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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years ago

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NSFW (whole alphabet) for Maul?

A/N: PLEASE REMEMBER TO COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS! HEADCANONS NEED LOVE TOO YOU KNOW! (Also the tags are not working because they hate me)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s gentle, shockingly so. No matter how rough or intense, his entire demeanor shifts. He treats you like glass; caressing your skin, cleaning your mess, and reveling in the lingering warmth. He becomes one clingy bitch is what I’m getting at here.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your throat. He loves how you leave it so open to him, to kiss or bite or squeeze as he wishes. It’s a sign of trust, not to mention it leads down to your chests and all the other soft parts attached. (He’s a boob man, that’s all I’m saying)

As for himself, he likes his hands. They still hold his true strength. They can still wield the force to his will; to destroy his enemies or to place a gentle touch to your cheek. He’s amazed that you can allow him to touch you after how much his hands have done.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He makes a mess whenever you fuck. He likes to cum on you; on your tits, stomach, back, face, anywhere. But he really loves cumming inside you and watching it drip from your sex. Even if he can’t give you children, the idea of burying his seed in you is an instinct he can’t shake. Would love nothing more than to keep his cock inside you and fill you again and again with him cum until it spills out on the bed.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he purposefully makes you angry because he knows how you’ll punish him later. He’s not sure if you’ve caught on or not, but either way you play into his scheme perfectly.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very before you. He was taken by Sidious at a very young age; as a Sith he was trained to forgo attachments and obey his master at every turn. Sidious would not allow his apprentice any chance to form a connection with another aside from taking him back to Dathomir to fulfill a coming of age ritual where he was taken by a Night Sister. After that, nothing.

But, for what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in his willingness to learn. He asks what you want, what you like. He feels your reactions through the force and demonstrates a control you hadn’t found in previous lovers. He can be patient when it counts.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves it when you’re both kneeling, with you straddling his waist a he thrusts up into you. He’s able to reach deep inside you while allowing either of you to gain control as you wish it. Not to mention easy access to your throat and breasts as he clings to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Maul is 99.9% of the time completely serious during sex. Either his focus is entire on your pleasure or you’ve given him permission to work out his frustrations using your body. The only time he’d crack a joke is if he’s feels particularly smug about the way he’s making you feels and wants to tease you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No hair down below, because, well...he doesn’t really have a natural below. I doubt Mother Talzin added hair just for the fun of it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As I said before Maul has two modes; I need to fuck away my feelings OR you are the most important thing in the galaxy let me show you why. When he’s in mode two, he’s the most intimate and romantic partner you can ask for, almost desperate in his attempt to show you how you make him feel. If it’s option one, you’ll have to wait until after the sex to get the same treatment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre-Naboo, he kept it on the down low. He could only allow himself a moment’s release when his master wasn’t around. And even then, it was only when he was particularly stressed or angry. It was done quickly with no real thought of pleasure, just some kind of release if he couldn’t do it through violence.

After Naboo, it’s not really something he does because well...there’s not much down there for a good long while and after he gets some of his...parts back, he meets you. With you, he doesn’t feel as compelled to use his hands.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink. He can’t give you children, obviously, but there’s an almost instinct there. Just another thing Kenobi took away form him.

Also, not sure if it’s a kink, but he’s an absolute switch. One minute he’s squeezing your neck while using you as his personal cum bucket. The next, he’s tied to the bed begging and promising you the galaxy if you just let him cum.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a bit of an exhibitionist. As much as he wants to be the only one to see you naked and writhing underneath him, there’s something about fucking you on the throne of Mandalor that sends a thrill up his spine. Anyone can walk in and know that he’s the one making you feel this way. He has the power to fuck you in front of the whole of Death Watch if he wanted to and none of them could touch you. They would know you were his and as their leader they would not dare oppose him.

So, in terms of most common place, your bedroom. In terms of most thrilling place, the throne room, followed by the war room, and then the training room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You getting angry is the hottest thing in the galaxy to him. If you direct that anger into destroying your enemies in combat, even better. He’ll take you the second you’re alone in the ship.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Roleplaying. It’s you and him, that’s it. He doesn’t want or need to “spice things up”.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving. He loves your taste and how easily he can get you to cum with just his tongue. He can feel your pleasure through the force which only drives his further. Granted he needs to be mindful of where his horns are when you clamp him head between your thighs but that’s neither here nor there.

He’ll certainly accept you going down on him, but he knows it’s not as pleasurable for you to have a metal cock in your mouth no matter how good it feels for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be slow an sensual, but it almost always devolves into rough desperation. He’s a man of wild passions and it shows in the marks on your thighs the next morning.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’re almost always the one to initiate them. He says he can wait until the evening, but he’s often left working well into the night and forgets. You take it upon yourself to strive into his office and tell him you need a good fuck. That will get him away from the paper work long enough to leave your legs shaking and his mind a little more clear.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to try something you propose so long as you discuss it properly before hand. He wants to make sure you’re safe before trying anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It’s absolutely insane how high his stamina is. For one, he’s got a mechanical cock that doesn’t actually get soft even after he cums. Second, his reliance on the force allows him to recoup faster than normal. He can go for an many rounds as you can stand for as long as you want.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

That will be a negative. He doesn’t have any toys and the idea of you having a toy when all you have to do is ask he finds more than a little insulting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He always does it when he’s trying to win an argument or make a point, and it’s infuriating. He likes hearing you beg or admit he was right all while he teases you clit with the promise of more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Maul gets loud. It’s almost a defiance. His master would not allow him anything like this singular happiness with another being and now he’s taking it at his own pleasure. He screams and growls and moans and begs and every other noise in the book. He wants people to hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Maul wants to have kids with you, and that fact that he can’t really aches at him. He wants something that is truly his own; a legacy outside of the Sith, a final defiance to the master who abandoned him. They would be the best of both of you and unparalleled in their power. Nothing would stand in their way. He can see it in his minds eye every time you fall asleep in his arms. But, it can never be. If Mother Talzin had figured out a way to make life without the need of Zabrak men, he wouldn’t have been a Night Brother in the first place.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Like I’ve said, Maul’s entire lower half is mechanical, including his cock. Mother Talzin made him one which retracts back in when he’s not aroused. It’s shaped like a Zabrak male: three ridges, each wider than the last giving him good length and girth (look up Nova: Bad Dragon). It also gives him pleasure, which is better than a dilo and excretes a synthetic cum when he climaxes.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s not so much a sex drive as a yearning for you. There are times he just wants you, to hold you close, to bury himself inside you and forget anything exists outside of you. It’s in flux, but it’s certainly higher than most men you’ve known. You’re having sex at least every other night if not more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t dare fall asleep until you do. He likes the feeling of your body relaxing beside his as you drift off. He likes knowing you trust him to keep you safe, even in sleep. Only when he knows there’s nothing lurking in the dark to take you away does he finally fall asleep.

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #the clone wars #star wars #star wars imagine #lemon

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comradeacerbus · 3 years ago

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Miraak Headcannons (for fanfic)

Okay, so, I’ve been planning a Skyrim fic for some time now. I started one, but it fell through due to a lack of proper planning. Now that I know what I’m doing, I’m gonna try again! I’m just posting some notes on everyone’s favorite jackass here because I needed something to post. Obviously, since this is my fic, I’ll be referencing my granola-crunching pacifist Dragonborn, Haldis Ragnardottir.

Bethesda didn’t give us much to work with but that just makes it more interesting. I’m just getting a feel for his personality now so I can keep him consistent.

* Miraak was already getting up there in age by the time his revolt against Alduin fell through, so he’s a bit old and grey now. Maybe in his sixties physically, though he looks more past his use by date because of how Oblivion has affected his outward appearance.

* Stupidly tall because, yknow, Atmorans.

* He’s a dirty old man. He doesn’t come off that way initially, but internally, Miraak is a pervert. While he won’t get physical with women, he won’t hesitate to say something pervy.

* Just because he’s a bit pervy doesn’t mean he’s promiscuous. He certainly has game, I imagine, but he feels he’s too old to go throwing his weight around. It’s mostly for his own entertainment

* He loves to make people uncomfortable, especially our little baby Dwagonbown. Constantly picking on her, saying weird pervy shit, just constantly flustering her for his own amusement.

* A really good talker, can worm his way out of any bad situation with his words. He’s also a natural politician. He can make any insane remark and easily justify it to anyone who’s willing to listen to him.

* He’s no liar though. Not unlike Odahviing, he might not tell the whole truth, but he won’t tell much in the way of lies. He’ll just manipulate the truth. It’s no wonder he was so able to lead a cult, really.

* Literate in multiple languages. Obviously the Imperial language spoke in Tamriel and Dovahzul, but he is also fluent in Daedric and has dabbled in Falmer and Dwemer dialects as well, though he dislikes the cultures themselves as an Atmoran. He probably started looking into them out of sheer boredom in Apocrypha.

* He’s definitely looked into more than just languages in his time in Oblivion. He’s looked into various magics, histories of ancient civilizations, Aedra, Daedra, trades, and everything in between. In other words, Miraak knows his shit about a lot of things.

* In spite of how much he knows about a wide range of subjects, a jack of all trades is a master of none. He’s not talented in all the fields he’s studied, but he’s honed his main skills to a fine point. Namely the art of shouting, various styles of swordplay, and the main schools of magic.

* He frowns very strongly upon thieving and sneaking about. Subtly is one thing, but being sneaky and deceitful is a whole nother ball game to him. He dislikes the idea of assassinations, especially the use of poison. He much prefers the ancient Atmoran-Nordic tradition of openly challenging an authority figure for his seat.

* Under all the arrogance, Miraak actually does have some wisdom to him, and he does learn from his and others’ mistakes. He likes to pretend that he didn’t change after narrowly escaping Apocrypha, simply because he doesn’t want to admit that what he did was wrong, but he certainly has changed some of his views.

* Simply speaking of Oblivion’s Princes makes him uncomfortable because he wants nothing to do with them now, though he’d never admit that he’s afraid. He might be garbage in a lot of ways, but he’s definitely still human.

* Apocrypha has most certainly disfigured him, as well as the night Vahlok and his legion of Dragons burned his temple to the ground. He has some burns scars on his chest and some smaller ones on his face. They no doubt would have been worse, were it not for the metal of his mask. Apocrypha has made his skin pasty and his hair white and nasty looking no matter how much he cleans himself or walks around in the daylight. His sclera are also darkened permanently. He doesn’t wear his mask anymore, and instead prefers his hood when he returns to Tamriel, but he won’t usually show his face to anyone, aside from the Dragonborn, because he’s ashamed of what his choices have done to his body.

* He’s of an ectomorph body type. He’s super tall and towers over Haldis, but he’s not especially muscular. He’s got the broad shoulders of an early Nord, but he’s actually quite skinny. I imagine he tries his best to bulk up with his robes. The other cult leaders most certainly poked fun at him for him.

* After he and Haldis bury the hatchet and accept that they’re stuck together, I imagine he starts to see her as a niece/granddaughter/little sister figure. She doesn’t know much about shouting combatively, and he knows that her overall lack of fighting experience is likely to get her killed, so he begins teaching her from the ground up. It’s initially a thing out of necessity, but he later grows to enjoy it. Not like he’d admit it.

* He may have changed a little since his imprisonment, but he’ll still keep his pride forever. It’s what got him stuck with Herma-Mora, and it’s what got him through so much time in Oblivion.

* The main thing he was worried about for the time of his imprisonment was that he’d turn into a Seeker, but his will as a Dragonborn is likely what kept him from turning, so he’ll cling to his arrogance and his stubbornness till death does him part from Mundus.

* Yeah, he’s old fashioned and very stubborn, but he’s not unreasonable. He’ll listen to one’s argument, but with how well-spoken he is, he usually “wins” the debate, ultimately.

* Even if he is reasonable in the realm of debate, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants, even if it means using or hurting people to do so. This is a result of his inner Dovah. Haldis finds this rather insufferable and it’s one of the main reasons as to why they fight.

* When he gets drunk, he’ll sort of “forget” it’s not the Merithic Era anymore and will start speaking to people in Dovahzul and then get pissy when only Haldis can understand him. He doesn’t normally like to drink in his ripe old age, though, so it’s not something that happens often.

* A similar thing will also happen when he gets angry. He never loses his temper, but when he gets frustrated, he’ll start belting out Dovahzul rapidly.

* He may also speak Dovahzul to Haldis when trying to be subtle. For example, Haldis has to deal a lot in Skyrim’s politics as a diplomat, so if Miraak needs to tell her something or remind her to say something, he’ll tell her in Dovahzul so she doesn’t look dumb.

* The Dovahzul he speaks is a different dialect, though, given their difference in age, so things have been lost in translation from time time, resulting in small, humorous mishaps. He also finds Haldis’s accent when speaking Dovahzul to be very irritating, and mocks her for it quite a bit, usually saying that she sounds like she has a speech impediment.

* As her accent gets better, in his almighty opinion, they’ll have entire conversations together in Dovahzul when they’re alone, like out on the road or something.

I might reblog and take on some more here later. This is just some basic junk that’s not really organized. Also I did not proofread but shhhh

#ao3 fanfic #planning #character notes #Miraak #headcannons #Skyrim #I don’t understand why I have a thing for Peter Jessop’s characters but that’s okay whatever #Dragonborn #yayyyy

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masterswrd · 4 years ago

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Hannibal Fashion Meta Pt. 3

Like our boy Will, this one took a while to come out and just like him, I’m valid.

So Will’s turn. I don’t what to talk as much about his clothes per say (yet), but more what he does with them. So I’m covering his person suit. Part 4 is going to melt better with the series and be closer to it’s usual comedic tone.

This one isn’t funny like the other ones because I made it to specifically stab people in the chest. I also got a brain so I put this one under a read more so the people who follow us won’t want to murder us.

Apéritif’s costuming gave us everything we need to know about Hannibal and it gave us everything we need to know about Will and I use a few episodes of season 3 to really twist the knife about it.

Will goes through life being deeply uncomfortable with who he is. Through this episode we see Hannibal slipping his person suit on and off while Will’s is slowly being pulled away by himself returning home to Wolf Trap.

Will Graham hates ties. He absolutely hates them. This is borderline canon, not my personal opinion. Ties can feel constricting and bothersome especially if you have sensory issues. As soon as class is dismissed he takes it off and aggressively shoves it in his bag. (He does this again in S1E7 Entree when he goes from class to his meeting with Freddie Lounds).

Alone in his car he takes off his sport coat, rolls ups his sleeves and undoes a few buttons, before taking the shirt off entirely and replacing it with one of his white t-shirts.

Will’s person suit for season one was very much making people think that he was just a loner and harmless and awkward. He doesn’t like to socialize so wants to be unapproachable.But this suit was also a form of armor. The more Will is uncomfortable in a scene, he usually wears glasses and more layers.

There’s plenty of evidence for Will using layers to shut people out. A great example is when Will is taking refuge in Maine during his marriage to Molly, who I can only assume he met on farmersonly dot com (did you know that’s a gay friendly site? neither did Will Graham. I think he might’ve tried talking a guy then went home and threw up and never tried again. Hannibal is kind of like how my sister ate a bad avocado and now insist she’s allergic to them. She isn’t and Will Graham is bisexual). After Jack comes, Will puts on an extra coat. I live in the northern united states and we rarely get a temperature drop so sudden that we need to put on an extra coat, especially with a hot cup of coffee and the sun shining.

Will also slips his person suit off when he doesn’t care what people think. People, being being Bedelia, of course. When he chat’s with her, he takes off his glasses and has open body language. He knows what she is and she knows what he is. No need to hide the fangs and claws when they’re bound to just get into a cat fight anyways. Will is an asshole, anybody who says otherwise is lying to themselves and unless your Molly Foster Graham trying to hold together your crumbling marriage, you have no reason not to accept that.

Person suits aside, Will is not going to wear things that make him uncomfortable unless it serves a specific purpose and love struck Hannibal won’t make him wear a tie to the opera. In their shared mind palace, Will is usually wearing the clothes he has on in real life, safe for the dressy little suit (no tie again take that). But this? That loving gaze? That’s nothing compared to Hannibal’s display of love in Digestivo.

In Thomas Harris’ Novel, Hannibal, our cannibal saves Clarice from Muskrat farms like Hannibal does with Will in the show. I don’t think I need to prove anything about Will being a stand-in for Clarice Starling unless you’re new here. When Clarice wakes up, she’s need stitched up, bullets removes, cleaned, she’s given pain medication that makes her physically weak. Hannibal dresses her in a fine black dressing gown and gives her a pair of heels to wear to eat dinner with him.

In Digestivo, Will is put under very similar circumstances. When he wakes up in his bed he struggled to lift himself and needs to sit up and lean against the wall so that he can look at Hannibal at eye-level. Hannibal dressed Will in his own clothes. A grey undershirt and a soft flannel. Will owns nice clothing befitting a fancy dinner, but this is what he wanted Will to wake up in.

Hannibal gave up trying to manipulate Will along the way is season two and Will never bothered putting up his walls since he knocked them down in season one, before he knew what Hannibal really was. There’s no point. He was already being seen.

After he tells Hannibal goodbye, he puts his armor back on for the rest of the world. Same flannel that Hannibal dressed him in, a sweater, a jacket, and his glasses. Keeping the love that Hannibal has for him kept out of sight from everyone and close to his chest.

Another worthy mention of Will’s layering is in the following episode when he takes Hannibal’s letter out of his dresser. Despite being in front of a roaring fire, Will puts on a sweater, feeling too vulnerable being in his sleepwear. Probably afraid of what would happen if Molly walked in.

When chooses to talk with Hannibal in the red dragon arc, like the entirety of the show, Will never wears his glasses. He makes a show to the viewer of taking them off when he approaches Hannibal’s cell.

Will removes another layer in Wrath of the Lamb, being his jacket. (This one probably doesn’t mean anything, they were inside for at least a few hours.) BUT! I see a lot of people write that Will found clothes that Hannibal bought for him when he thought Will would run away with him. That mirrors Clarice wearing clothes that Hannibal picked for her before running away with him. I love to see it, but the last clothes we see Will in are canonically his clothes. The one’s he’d been wearing all day. Shirt unbuttoned, untucked, and very apologetically Will Graham. As much as I love reading about Hannibal dressing Will up like a ken doll, he’d never make this man wear a tie for him.

Will might not be consciously doing the things he’s doing when it comes to Hannibal, but he’s doing it. He has no control over how Hannibal makes him feel, but time and time again he will peel over his layers in his presence in a way that he doesn’t do with any other character in the show.

#hannibal #will graham #my correct hannibal posts #matt writes #aw will ur submitting to the mortifying ideal of being known and you dont even realize it #did i make myself sad because im a closeted bi stealth trans dude? maybe but thats for my therapist to not know and for me to bottle up #anyways im gonna go make french onion soup and cry about it dont look at me #hannibal fashion

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loopy777 · 4 years ago

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RE: WIPs game: Actress Mai. what is she acting in? besides her ongoing starring role as Repressed Perfect Child?

Ah, "Actress Mai." This is a headcanon I keep chipping away at in the hopes that I'll eventually have something I want to publish. I have a whole host of little ideas and scene concepts, but only one actual WIP.

It started with the idea that Zuko and Ursa are theater snobs. Sure, Ursa apparently attended Ember Island Player performances, which Zuko disdained, but my thought is that she took what she could get in terms of live theater with her family even if she agreed with his criticisms. However, I like to headcanon that Mai loves the Ember Island Players, hates classical theater, and generally is the type of person who thinks that Michael Bay movies are great and more people should just turn off their brains and allow themselves to be entertained.

Why?

Well, because character conflict is what makes stories interesting. Zuko gritting his teeth through Mai's praise of how the EIPs finally made "Love Amongst the Dragons" interesting? Gold! Ursa and Mai getting into heated drunken arguments about theater styles? Gold! Mai convincing Kiyi of the good points of the controversial 'Love Amongst the Dragons II: Love Harder' (which is canon to at least two of my Maiko fics) while Zuko and Ursa grit their teeth? Solid gold!

This fun little conflict turned into something more, though. If Ursa and Mai are dark mirrors of each other in terms of theater tastes, then it felt like Mai needed a little acting history to parallel Ursa's own. But Ursa could be a publicly known actress because she was a peasant; such a profession was okay for her. Mai is a noble, though, and an acting job would be seen as beneath her, especially as a woman, as Polite Fire Society knows (or thinks it knows) that 'actress' is really just a polite term for prostitute. This is a takeoff from some real-life history stuff that I first learned of through Sherlock Holmes stories. Apparently, Irene Adler being an 'opera singer' was a thing British readers would recognize as being of a sordid nature.

So I decided that Mai did some secret, illicit acting anonymously during her childhood and teenage years. She stumbled across an opportunity, gave it a try, and found it fulfilling despite the social stigma. She liked being able to project emotions of all kinds in public, while at the same time shielded by masks or makeup or costumes or whatever. She liked being other people, people who find love with their heroes or die tragically to teach everyone a point or villainously ruin everything around them as a force of vengeful nature. It was the only opportunity for expression that she had, as well as a quiet form of rebellion. So for years she snuck out of the capital, down to Harbor City, and acted in all kinds of plays for a troupe that accepted not paying her as a fair trade for keeping her anonymous.

Naturally, moving to Omashu put a crimp on that, and so it ended.

So the idea is that Ursa eventually learns this about Mai after years of their butting heads over theater opinions, sees the parallels and perpendiculars in their lives, and grudgingly comes to respect Mai's completely wrong opinions about theater as at least being informed. And Mai, who is good at acting and does know the classics and would be wasted in the Ember Island Players, helps Ursa out with some plays she writes (still anonymous, although Zuko and Ursa know) even though Mai privately thinks the dialogue is too stilted and the stories kind of cliched.

But I have had trouble beating all of this into a proper story. I want to do flashbacks to Mai on stage, I want to show her conflict with Ursa, I want to reveal how Ty Lee found out and used that to get Mai to accept running away to the circus, I want Zuko's reaction to finding that his wife can recite soliloquies from all the major classics, I want Kiyi becoming an Ember Island Players groupie, etc. It's just missing a plot to hang it all on.

So here's a snippet of one of my attempts to construct something:

Noren grimaced. "Honestly, I was impressed we got enough people to fill out all the parts, never mind understudies. This play-"

"-is important," Ursa finished for him.

He hesitated just a moment before nodding. "And it's important for the same reasons that it was tough to get actors. I'm sure once Zuko sees it and can give it his official approval-"

"But he can't see anything without a Rinzen." Ursa thought about her son out there in the audience, anonymous amidst the 'peasants' of Hira'a. Zuko didn't mind mixing with his people, despite being their Lord, but the only reason he was here, tonight, was because Ursa herself had written the play, and he was a good son who would always support his mother.

Zuko had even brought his friends, including the Avatar. Aang was a delightful young man, and always very nice to Ursa, but she couldn't help but feel trepidation at his presence. After all, Avatar Roku, Ursa's grandfather and Aang's previous life, was a major character in this play, and while the story was based on real events, it was Ursa's hand that had shaped his dialogue and actions. She was putting her thoughts and philosophies, her very heart, out on the stage for public assessment, and this was tricky material. Would it do right by history?

Plus the lead actress was sick, and going by her complaints and the smell of the privy, perhaps dying.

Ursa had to tell herself that her audience, her friends and family and neighbors, wouldn't enjoy this play becoming a disaster. None of them were that bad. This wasn't the Capital. And she wasn't a princess. Not anymore.

So why had she taken it on herself to write this play, to positively dramatize a story of an ancestor who a few years ago was considered a heretic and traitor, to will into being a performance right here in the Fire Nation of a play that featured a heroic Air Nomad character whose actress was currently trapped in the privy?

Because her nation had hurt the world, and she wouldn't leave it to her son alone to do all the work of helping to fix that. That's why.

"Maybe," she ventured, "I could play the part."

Noren frowned. "You? But you're playing the Lady of Glass, and the characters share several scenes."

But Ursa was already analyzing the copy of the script that existed in her mind. "Rinzen has a lot more lines than the glass spirit, and I'm the only one who knows them. And playing a spirit is a lot easier than playing an Air Nomad. A spirit is just a voice, a costume, and some special effects. An Air Nomad character is a performance, and we're fresh out of actresses."

Noren's head tilted from side to side. "We could ask Kiyi. She knows the play by heart. She's a bit young for the part, yes, but-"

"No," Ursa cut him off. "She'd say yes if we asked her, but she hates being on stage. I'm not going to do that to her. I'd rather call off the play and see if our Rinzen is feeling better tomorrow."

Noren blanched at the very thought and made a gesture of good luck. "Well, maybe we can find a new Lady of Glass. And adjust the Rinzen costume. So are you thinking we'll just go on stage and ask the crowd who wants to join the cast, or maybe-"

And then there was a shift behind Noren, the red curtain over the office's doorway being pulled aside to reveal a living shadow. It seemed to Ursa that a chill had entered the room.

Lady Mai, Intended to Fire Lord Zuko, had arrived.

Ursa stiffened as Mai stepped into the office and let the curtain fall back into place. Time and familiarity had not made it any easier to be in a room with her son's lover. She had no real doubts about Mai, no resentment over the early difficulties Zuko that had apparently been overcome, but it was hard to reconcile Azula's shy and dour childhood companion with what existed now. Mai walked around covered with knives, watching everything; she never spoke unless there was an explicit need, but her gaze was always focused and her eyes missed nothing.

And it was in Mai's kind of silent, watchful abyss that Judgement grew. Ursa did not have a good feeling about how Mai likely judged her. How could a child of the Fire Nation's capital, someone who had become strong alongside Azula, a world-class warrior whose last stand for the life of her lover was already the subject of at least one popular poem, have any empathy for Ursa's life or the mistakes she had made?

Mai looked at her with dull eyes. "Is everything okay? The crowd is getting restless, and Zuko was worried. I told him I'd check on things so that he wouldn't miss the beginning of the play."

Ursa hesitated against that flat, low voice, and Noren stepped in to answer, "Our lead actress is sick. Ursa and I were just discussing options. There- uh, there aren't a lot of them."

Mai might as well have been told that dinner was planned to include green sprouts, but they were all out and so the yellow ones would be substituted. "Which part?"

Ursa swallowed. "The Air Nomad girl, Rinzen."

Mai quirked an eyebrow. "The heroine." She was still and silent for a long moment, and then sighed. "Zuko's really been looking forward to this. I guess I can help out. All right, I'll be your Rinzen."

Ursa wasn't quite sure she had heard that right. "You- you want to take the part? But-" Her voice faltered, as all the possible objections swirled through her mind. Mai was, to put it simply, completely lacking in charisma and non-threatening presence. She spoke without emotion. She moved so efficiently that no one in the back of the audience would even notice her. And she was so disinterested in everything that she'd probably nod off in the middle of the performance.

Noren offered a troubled smile. "Thank you for the offer, but acting is harder than it looks. It's not just about going on stage and reciting lines. An actress needs-"

"It's Nomad part, right?" Mai shrugged. "So we want a high, bright voice. Circular gestures. A bounce in all the movements. Here, like this." She stretched out her arms, shook her head, and then-

-and then-

-and then Mai was no longer there. The woman in red and black looked like her, but there was a wide mischievous smile on her face, and her eyes were big and bright. She stepped towards Ursa- no, they weren't mere steps. She kicked her heels high with each one, and the way she shifted her weight flirted with almost being a dance. She held her arms up at her side as she moved, and then when she reached Ursa, swung them dramatically to bring her hands together into a sign of respect.

She bowed, and in a voice that positively rang and filled the room, said, "Are you not the Firebender Avatar, Roku? What a fortunate wind blows to lay my path upon your own!" She rose again, and trotted in a circle around Ursa. "I say, you are taller than I expected, and must be quite heavy. Are you sure you're keeping up with your Airbending, young Avatar?" She raised a hand and held it out to the side.

Noren recovered before Ursa did, realizing what was going on, and quickly found a rag and placed in the waiting hand.

Mai's eyes never left Ursa the whole time, and as soon as the rag was in her grip, she moved again, taking a stance that had clearly been modeled on Avatar Aang's own style, and held the rag out in front of her, dangling it from her fingers and bouncing it in the air.

Mai gave a laugh that was echoed through the little room. "Your beard flutters in my breeze! Come, young Avatar, let's have a spar!"

There was a beat, and Ursa was tempted to deliver Roku's next line in response, but then all at once the younger woman slumped, letting the grandness leak out of her limbs. When she straightened, Mai was back, standing like a blade made of shadow, her face blank and her eyes dull.

Ursa blinked. What had she just witnessed? So many questions swirled in her mind, and she decided to ask the most important of them: "You know all the lines?"

#avatar mai #mai #ursa #avatar ursa

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crusherthedoctor · 4 years ago

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Sonic Heroes: Sweet or Shite? - Part 1: SILVER

There are some heroes I like. And there are some heroes I don’t like. But why do I feel about them the way I do? That’s where this comes in.

This is a series in which I go into slightly more detail about my thoughts on the heroes in the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise, and why I think they either work well, or fall flat (or somewhere in-between). I’ll be giving my stance on their designs, their personalities, and what they had to show for themselves over the course of time. Two things to keep in mind:

1. These reviews will be focusing mainly on game portrayals. Though alternate media will occasionally be mentioned, it'll be for the sake of adding onto a point if a portrayal is similar enough, or to compare and contrast if a portrayal is different enough.

2. These are just my own personal thoughts. Whether you agree or disagree, feel free to share your own thoughts and opinions! I don’t bite. :>

Anyhow, for today’s installment, I decided to challenge myself by starting off with a complicated one. Born from the future, and never content to stay put in said future, it's the saviour whose debut came from the most unfortunate game... Silver the Hedgehog.

The Gist: Once upon a time, in the distant future, there was an idealistic young hedgehog named Silver, gifted with the power of telekinesis for reasons unknown. With his amazing potential, he was truly destined for a wonderful, prosperous li-just kidding, it was shit.

“All two of us.”

For as long as he knew, the world was forever plagued by Iblis, the terrible Flames of Disaster. Cities stood in ruin, flames stood high, the floor was lava... it was a bitter life to be certain, all thanks to Iblis. Not even defeating the titular creature did much good, since it would simply come back to be a shitty boss fight another day. What was he - and his friend, Blaze, a character we definitely never saw before and definitely didn't have a completely different backstory before - to do?

Trust the first person he sees, of course. Even if they look like they might be related to the same Flames of Disaster that he fights so constantly.

If he had eyelids, he'd be winking at the camera.

This mysterious fellow, Mephiles the Dark, informed Silver that if he were to wipe out Iblis for real, he would need to take a trip into the past, and eliminate the root of the problem... Sonic the Hedgehog? That was what Mephiles claimed, yes. What was his proof? There was no proof.

That was good enough for Silver.

Oh look, it's Fleetway Sonic.

After an elaborate series of events, which should sound exciting but really isn't because it was just Silver going “Iblis Trigger grrr” in varying tones of voice, he was finally able to corner the blue hedgehog... twice! And despite having less fighting know-how than the hero who saved the world plenty of times, he effortlessly came close to killing the blue hedgehog... twice!

This looks like a jobbing for...

Why twice? The first time was halted by Sonic's friend Amy Rose, who Silver had met beforehand after she mistook him for Sonic, an understandable mistake that even the keenest of eyes would be forgiven for making.

The second time was also interrupted, this time by Shadow the Hedgehog. There's only room for one controversial non-blue male hedgehog in this franchise, sonny boy. Actually, his reasons were more benevolent than that: he wanted to show Silver the truth about what was going on, by time travelling to the incident that gave birth to Iblis. Why was one able to to this, so long as more than one Chaos Emerald was present? No one knew.

That was good enough for Silver.

“I challenge you to a dumb-off.”

As it turned out, Iblis was one half of a sun god called Solaris, the other half being the aforementioned Mephiles. The Duke of Soleanna wanted to reunite with his late wife by harnessing Solaris' power, which succeeded from a certain point of view since he's dead now too. The resulting blunder split Solaris into two halves. One half was all brawn, with little capacity for intelligence. The other half was Iblis.

Understanding the error of his ways, and after making peace with Sonic, Silver went back to the future to try something different, which consisted of doing the same thing he always did. Luckily for him, the script decided it would work this time, albeit at the cost of Blaze sacrificing herself... Maybe? Sort of? It’s not entirely clear what happened to her, and it’s not like this was the last we ever saw of her.

~La laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, la laaaaaa, heading to a better game, la laaaaaa~

But ohhhhh nooooo, turns out THAT didn't solve anything either! In the present, Sonic was killed by Mephiles, after the latter realised he should probably do that already if he wanted to make any progress at all with his plan. This incident led to Iblis being brought into the present, and they fused to become the omnipotent Solaris once more. Such power... such divinity... such devastation...

Actually, he was really easy. The antlion from Underground Zone was harder.

Manchild robots - 1, god of time - 0.

With their super forms in tow, Silver, Shadow, and the revived Sonic joined forces to defeat Solaris, with Sonic in particular going the extra step in retconning Solaris out of existence entirely. Since time itself reset, meaning Iblis was no longer a memory, Silver's timeline was given a second chance. What was he to look forward to in this new, promising future?

Shit.

The Design: Let's take a closer look at Silver's appearance, shall we?

Or rather, a certain thing that's wrong with it.

He's holding up fifteen fingers.

Yes, you all know what I'm pointing to: the hairstyle. Let it be known that I'm very aware of the intention behind this design choice. It's supposed to be based on the Japanese Red Maple Leaf, which holds a lot of relevant symbolism for Silver's character. This is a fine idea in theory, and I can respect the intent and the creativity.

But here's the thing: If it looks like a ganja leaf, people are going to say it looks like a ganja leaf. I know some fans will gnash their teeth at me saying this, but the fact of the matter is that intentions and ideas, no matter how good they may be on paper, don't always translate well into the final product. Unleashed Secret Rings Black Knight Sonic '06 in general is certainly no stranger to showcasing examples of that, and Silver's hairstyle is no exception. There are ways to incorporate symbolism in a character’s design without making them look like meme bait in the process, and no amount of “umm ackshually” will change that, I'm afraid.

That said, there's another reason why I'm staying clean of Silver marijuana: it doesn't work for a hedgehog character. With the other hedgehogs, their hairstyles are simple and get the point across: Sonic's goes without saying, Shadow's is more angular to befit a slightly rougher hero, and Amy's is a cute bob cut of sorts. But Silver? Even without the ganja, you've still got the two tentacles making up the back of his head.

I'd rather not be reminded of hentai quills, thanks.

“I thought Crusher-san would like it :’(”

I do find it hilarious that they went through numerous designs for Silver, and this was what they chose to go with. Some of his prototype designs may have fared better had any of them been used instead... but we didn't end up with any of those ones. We ended up with this one, therefore I'm judging this one.

But don’t worry, it’s not all bad with Silver...

The Personality: As far as actual character goes, Silver's personality is as straightfoward as most characters in the series, yet it's no less interesting, because it took a while for it to fully evolve to what it currently is. The seeds of his character - a good-natured yet awkward and rather insecure kind of guy, who doesn't fully understand how the present time works - have always been there, but it was often downplayed in earlier titles due to him being hungry for Iblis Trigger blood... or being an arsehole for no reason.

Although to be fair, everyone in Rivals is an arsehole for no reason.

Eventually though, after the writers gave him a Snickers, these traits got more opportunity to shine. Mostly in side media admittedly, but it's been noted in the games as well. With no Iblis to angst over, he's proven to be a surprisingly bubbly chap, who just wants to know how you're all doing, fellow anthro kids. And whereas his naivety was previously used for intended tragedy to benefit the evil plan of a guy who thought taking the -istoph- out of Mephistopheles would make him inconspicuous, now it's been used for a bunch of low-key contexts that do a much better job at endearing him to the player.

Finally, something I can relate to.

Hell, he even seems to have learned from the Mephiles incident, as he was quick to make it clear to the next shadowy deep-voiced anthro with demonic eyes he met that he wasn't gonna fall for any of them fibs no more, ya hear?

“YouTube and Twitter don’t count.”

All in all, it works well enough, in my opinion. His personality does pave the way for some funny and wholesome moments, and since they’re no longer trying to build him up like he’s Shadow 2.0, he's nowhere near as much of a tool as he was before. So I guess you could say... I like it?

Does this mean I can say that I like the character as a whole then, design and '06-induced idiocy aside?

Well, not quite...

The Execution: This is where the complication part comes into play. We know now that I like his personality, not so much his design, but that's only the half of it. It would be more accurate to say that I like his personality... and dislike everything else.

Aside from that, obviously.

For starters, the creation process for his character and story was summed up with, in their own words, “Think Trunks from Dragon Ball Z”. So he comes off as rather lazy and uninspired. Now I'm not expecting my Sonic characters to be 100% unique, there's always going to be similarities to other franchises no matter what you do, even if subconsciously or by complete coincidence. Taking inspiration in itself is no big deal at all.

But... was that it? Copying a DBZ character to such a blatant extent? Was there no other thought put into it?

Naturally, this ties into an overarching problem: the franchise's mid-00's habit of trying way too hard to be the anthro Dragon Ball Z. Sonic has had DBZ influences since the early days, with the Chaos Emeralds and Super Sonic, but it didn't assimilate itself into every waking aspect of his universe. It was merely an additional flavor that added to the complete package, in the same way that a Death Star with a moustache didn't mean the franchise was suddenly Star Wars the Hedgehog.

But come the turn of the millenium, nearly every main title in the series ended with Super Sonic and/or Super Shadow saving the day, while everyone else either stood around being useless, or only helping in ways that no one actually cares about. Including the in-universe President apparently, since only Sonic and Shadow were featured in the photo on his desk.

Amy smiled. “I guess the rest of us can go fuck ourselves, huh?”

This reached its peak with - of course - Sonic '06, with Silver in particular being an obvious result of this then-ongoing trend. And yes, it would be unfair to use him as a scapegoat, considering it was already a problem long before he turned up. But moreso than even Shadow, it's an era that Silver is forever a relic of, for better or for worse.

But it doesn't stop there. Since Silver is considered a mainstay character, his gimmick of being from the future also creates problems of its own, because in order for him to make further appearances, he keeps turning up for little explained reason, and thus he suffers the Deadly Six problem of being shoved into places where he doesn't belong, for fanservice's own sake. Take Sonic Colours DS for example, where he went back in time JUST to check out Eggman's theme park... Okay...?

On one hand, I’d visit it too, since it's made by Eggman. On the other hand, I’d stay clear of it, since it's made by Eggman.

And when there IS a justification with more weight to it? It's just recycling the '06 routine of trying to avert his ruined future, which isn't much better. The cause may differ depending on the story, but if his future is a permanent shitehole for one reason or another, he might as well cut out the middle man and stay in the present altogether, since that's where his friends are anyway. But they seem intent on not doing that, despite the future schtick being a noose around his neck at this point.

In hindsight, maybe this was a hint to how the rest of the arc would turn out.

And then there's his dynamic with a certain purple cat... No, not Big. The other one.

“I’m here, by the way.”

Simply put: I don't like this dynamic. At all. Or rather, I don't like how they keep milking it. Blaze's backstory was radically changed to justify her presence in Silver's future, and it really shows, since she barely even shows up half the time, as if the developers themselves forgot she was in the game. But her backstory has since been restored to her original alternate dimension interpretation, so hanging around with the grey hedgehog is all good now, right?

To be brutally honest, I probably wouldn't care for this dynamic regardless. But I would be more willing to tolerate it, and I'd refrain from groaning every time they're seen together... if they weren't intent on playing it up so much in spite of '06 being wiped out, sometimes with a bit of commentary involving their thoughts and memories, which only succeeds at making things more confusing. If Blaze is around, Silver will be nearby, and if he's not at first, he will be soon enough. This franchise does have a problem in general with restricting who's allowed to interact with who (I personally believe Sonic Heroes may have led to this, or at least it accelerated it), but I'd argue it's at its most insufferable here, with Blaze's potential and her entire world taking a backseat to being the sidekick of Ganja Man.

And you might say “Well, it's part of the franchise now, so you'll just have to accept it”. To which I ask: Have you accepted Two Worlds? Have you accepted Solo Sonica? Have you accepted Sonic's friends not doing much as of late?

Yeah. That's what I thought. “It’s just how it is” doesn’t mean you can’t criticise it.

Meanwhile, Marine is lucky enough to get so much as a shout out.

So yeah, I have quite an extensive list of grievances involving poor Silver. But... very little of it has to do with him, right? They're all indirect problems that he just so happens to be linked to, as opposed to someone like Chris Thorndyke, who is genuinely a shit character through and through. This is more comparable to Tails being bitchy in Lost World, or Amy being manipulative in Chronicles, or Sonic being a smug dumbass in IDW, or Shadow not wearing a Hawaiian shirt in Boom. Frustrating, regrettable, but not really the character's own fault.

Yet even after all that, there's one last kick in the teeth... How do you fix all this? And how do you fix it when he's since gained a sizable fandom, many of whom like him for these very attributes? If you leave it as it is, you're stuck with this big, awkward mess that everyone pretends to ignore. If you try to do something about it, you'll get complaints about disrespecting the True Silver Spirit, and you’ll get questions about why you didn't create a new character instead... And if you did use a new character for the sake of a clean slate, THEN you'd get complaints about not using Silver.

It's a tough call to be sure, and it's such a shame because like I said, I do appreciate his personality, so I can't say he's bad outright. But with all this... clutter, I can only put him in the average category. So, in he goes.

Crusher Gives Silver a: Thumbs Sideways!

Well, I'm glad this one's out of the way. Putting my thoughts into words with Silver was harder than it should have been. I do slightly regret starting this series off on a rather downer note, but rest assured, it's a lot more positive from this point onwards, since while I have higher praise for some heroes more than others, the hero characters as a whole fare a lot better than the majority of villains not named Eggman.

I guess you could say that I hope to show why Sonic's friends aren't as shitty as the haters would suggest. ;)

#Sonic Heroes: Sweet or Shite?#Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog #Silver the Hedgehog

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ganymedesclock · 4 years ago

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“A dragon! A dragon in the castle!”

As if it weren’t awful news, every gossip in town flocked to the well, chattering like so many birds before a tray of seeds.

“I heard it was a kitchen fire-”

“A kitchen fire up the royal tower? I pick berries up by the castle, that’s nowhere near the kitchens-”

“Daft girl, I thought I told you to leave that be! You remember what happened to the old millet picker!”

“The queen’s not going to cut my hands off over an apron full of blackberries, now, is she? They all fall to the ground, anyway, nobody minds them- sorry, what were you saying, Anna, about the dragon?”

Anna bobbed her head eagerly, pigtails flying half out of her cap. “Edie saw it. She was emptying the chamber pots, and looked up away from the smell, and there it was- big as a tree and white like milk, swept right over the castle and out to the hills, and next she knew it, half the tower was burning, they had to evacuate the prince and all the lords, the smoke was terrible-”

And she went on like this, in her squeaky voice, captivating everyone, so neatly and efficiently that they did not notice the washer-woman, whom everyone knew was a half-wit who could barely speak, put down her washing, stand up, and take off into the trees.

Distances for a dragon were not the same as distances for a human, even if the dragon happened to be using small human legs at the time. A human’s senses were, for the most part, bound by two axes; up and down were only of so much relevance to something whose ancestors had disavowed themselves from both trees and the ocean some time ago. Up was generally more important than down, but either way, these things were governed by the ground.

The average dragon had a lot more opinions about up and down, and Dethel, at this moment, was of the impression that she ought to be going up as fast as possible right now, but unfortunately, when the village was all full of noise because of SOMEONE, going up first required a great deal of forwards. So, forwards she went, pounding her sensible washer-woman shoes over small hills and across gullies and making quite a mess of her only set of clothes that she’d have to mend later, first well, and then badly, and it was really all going to be quite a mess, but finally there was the old stone wall that had meant quite another thing to the people who’d laid it originally, but right now it was just a convenient metric for how much forwards was enough forwards.

Dethel split her skin, and tossed it to a low tree as if it were a blanket she might have been washing, and took wing. Shedding a skin left the body uncomfortably wet, but the sun was warm and bright, particularly as she crossed over the trees, and it dried her off quickly, back to the burnt and gilded shades of red she was properly. Now, the going was easy, and she was home in a matter of minutes, through the narrow cracks in the rock that had, until very recently, done a lovely job convincing humans that there were absolutely no caves in these mountains. “ESMER!”

Esmer’s head snaked out, disrupting the curtains about her horns. “I thought you were still out,” she said, in the dreamy tone that was especially prominent when she had no idea she was in trouble.

“I was out! I was working a perfectly serviceable job and now I’m going to have to contrive some reason I wandered off, all on account of you!”

The rest of Esmer’s body trotted out to catch up with her head. Esmer was a very beautiful dragon. She was not, as Anna (or Edie) said, white as milk, but the pearly silver of twilight, ever so slightly violet along the ridge of her spine to moonstone colors along her smooth-scaled belly. Dethel was reasonably certain if there was a reason Esmer could be quite so dense, it was because she had been born beautiful enough that it distracted everyone from being mad at her. “Well, that’s fine. You should come, come see my treasure.”

“Treasure? You raided a castle about treasure?” Dethel followed, incredulous, still spitting mad she reassured herself, but the faintest spark of curious. Also, one had to take initiative catching up with Esmer; Dethel was a perfectly sized dragon, but if there was one way the villagers were right, it was that Esmer was in fact very large. Bounding along to keep up with Esmer’s great, languid strides, she kept up her questions: “We have plenty of nice treasures. More of them than anyone else I know, in fact, because you keep going off like this, and I told you that you should talk to me about this, so we can plan it out-”

“I remember!” And it was reassuring to see Esmer bob her head in faint sheepishness. “And I know. I didn’t mean to make any sort of trouble.”

Dethel sighed, long, and hard, but there weren’t any cinders to it. “I know. You never mean to.”

“And I’ll take responsibility for this, like always. I just… this is different, alright? You really have to come see.”

“I’m coming. I’m seeing.”

They moved past the lying room, Esmer making a short hop and Dethel a much longer one to reach the landing up to the observatory. That gave Dethel a bit of pause, internally if not externally; the observatory was Esmer’s most special room, besides the library.

Maybe it really was something special or different-

-Dethel snapped that thought up like it was a stray sheep on a cliff’s edge. No, absolutely not, she was being cross with Esmer first. She was not going to forgive her for everything, especially when this could create a horrible amount of trouble for the both of them…

And, yet, it was hard to be mad at Esmer in the observatory that they had painted together, below the great telescope that had been so much trouble and bartering and arguing to procure, that she had been so delighted that she’d pranced all about the room warbling about the stars-

-there were reasons aside from beauty, admittedly, that Dethel herself could not always stay mad at Esmer.

Now, Esmer swept aside, piling her great length in several coils all about a side alcove that she had clearly cleared in a great hurry, shuffling other precious things off to the side to take refuge on other shelves. From this angle, Dethel could not see what was in the little box there, only Esmer’s delighted expression, but she had a bad feeling when she realized that the bottom of the box was curved, and that a moment later Esmer hooked the dewclaw of one wing ever-so-gently over the edge and began rocking it.

Dethel climbed the shelf, and leaned her head over.

“This is what you set a castle on fire for.”

Esmer shushed her hurriedly. “You’ll wake it, it’s sleeping.”

Dethel looked back at the doughy, squash-faced little mound of thing that would someday be a fully grown human.

She looked back to Esmer, and lowered her voice accordingly. “This?”

“Isn’t it lovely?”

“Esmer-” a pause. Scrutiny. “Are you going broody over a baby human?”

“It gets lonely here, doesn’t it?”

“You are. You’re going broody. Blood of the earth, Esmer, you sound like my grandmother.”

She looked back at the cradle. “What are we even going to feed it?”

“Yes, yes, it doesn’t have any teeth yet, I checked. I’ll have to stew the meat, to make it soft enough-”

“It probably can’t even eat meat yet, it’s not like a hatchling.”

Esmer looked alarmed. “What? No, oh no, it’s- it’s biggish, isn’t it? Look, it’s the size of my claw-”

“That’s little. Little for a human.” Dethel sniffed it, and the creature squirmed in its sleep. “Might be brand new. I’d say a month or so.”

“What- but- how could they-” Esmer swallowed. “Dethel, you don’t understand, it was crying and crying- the room was cold! Cold enough for me to feel it, and they just left it there and locked the door!” Her eyes were wide and frantic.

Dethel looked closer, and realized that the baby was not, in fact, swaddled in a blanket, but in one of Esmer’s tapestries. “We’re going to have to fix that,” she said, more making the note for herself than anything, “it needs proper bedclothes. And something to wrap its bottom in, before it poops.”

Esmer blinked. “It’ll tell us, won’t it?”

Dethel laughed until Esmer shushed her, and the infant shifted and squalled. “It won’t know it has to go until it’s gone, Es! Humans are completely useless for at least a year. We’ll have to get milk to feed it, and something to put the coals in to keep it warm, because it can’t touch those, and something to wrap its bottom, and a lot of those, because it’ll keep going whenever it needs to wherever it is right then-”

She didn’t expect any of that would actually stop Esmer, but rather, Esmer’s resolve seemed to strengthen. “Alright. I can do that. We can do that. Better than leaving it there.”

There was something behind Esmer’s eyes that Dethel had seen before, and that betrayed a truth worse than she had been expecting: this was not, in fact, a flight of fancy about a pretty trinket.

Then the shadow was gone, and Esmer peered at her warily. “Er- what… kind of milk, do little humans need? Does it have to be human milk, or could we find a goat, or-”

At that precise moment, the baby pooped, and, as that woke it up, began crying.

It was going to be a very long year.

#original microfiction #readmore #dragons #unsanitary tw #Ganymede Fic Tag

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trashcankitty12 · 4 years ago

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Musa Headcanons:

She’s sassy, she’s musically gifted, and she could 100% steal your significant other if she wanted too.

Meet Musa Kai, the Guardian Fairy of Melody and the lead singer for her band. (Though her band is usually Riven, Tecna, and Layla... But whatever.)

(Again all headcanons here are for my main verse and my “Left” verse. Thank you.)

-Musa’s a daddy’s girl, whether she’ll admit it or not. There’s not much she wouldn’t do for her father (aside from give up her own music career). And he absolutely adores her and had a tendency to spoil her (though those moments were few and far between after Matlin passed). Ho-Boe is so proud of his daughter and how amazing she’s become, he regrets trying to make her stay out of the music world.

-(He knows it was Mandragora’s poison that killed her, that the medication the Company came up with during the war was only a temporary solution, and not music that killed her. But he felt that she ended up straining herself and going passed her limits and the limits of the medication by continuing to perform.)

-Musa may have been a daddy’s girl, but she was extremely close to her mother, too. She loved singing and learning how to play new instruments with her mother and adored the stories her mother shared of being at Alfea and the (sanitized and child-friendly) versions of her Company of Light stories.

-Musa was absolutely crushed when her mother died and saw her father’s anger surge. She was 8 and confused and scared. All she wanted was her mother. (She did her best to sing at Matlin’s funeral, she tried, but the words wouldn’t come and her father’s hands trembled too much to play his koto.)

-She stayed with her maternal grandparents for a long time after her mother’s death, wanting to give her father space and to let him get his record company back on track. (And his emotions. He’d destroyed so many of their music sheets and instruments and even some of their records… And Musa felt helpless at trying to make him feel better, especially since she wasn’t feeling her best either.)

-Her grandparents encouraged Musa to continue her love of music and helped her figure out how she could get her emotions out with help from her music. How therapeutic it could be.

-(They’d helped Matlin to pursue her passions, and they felt they owed Musa the same courtesy.)

-She didn’t have too many friends growing up, or cousins her age to hang out with. Ho-Boe was determined to homeschool her for as long as possible, wanting to protect her from the outside world and the dangers of it.

-(Musa, like Layla, became an expert at sneaking out of the house, though she has a feeling her grandparents always knew what she was up too and just chose to let her have her freedom.)

-Mostly she snuck out to concerts or clubs, soaking in the music and letting it feel her heart and soul. It always felt so tangible and real to her, as if it was its own entity. Being away from it for too long felt… Like she was dying.

-Musa did have one cousin she was close to, the only cousin her age really. Galatea.

-Yes, Princess Galatea is Musa’s cousin. Her father, King Garomius, is Musa’s father’s eldest cousin. He became next in line after Ho-Boe abdicated the throne to pursue his music career his life with Matlin. (And the two of them remained close, even after Ho-Boe’s other family decided he was dead to them.)

-In fact, Galatea’s Princess Ball was the first and last time Musa ever met her paternal grandparents and her great uncles and great aunts. But she ignored them, feeling that if they felt her mother wasn’t good enough for them, then neither was she.

-(She and Galatea had a great time though, and a wonderful childhood growing up, even if Galatea is two years younger.)

-Like most from the Harmonics realms, Musa has perfect pitch and exceptional hearing. (She can use echolocation if she focuses enough on the sounds. But it takes practice to do and it often causes migraines if done for too long.)

-Her favorite instrument is her flute, even if she doesn’t use it in her performances much. It makes her think of her father and it was the first instrument she had that was hers. (It’s even got her name engraved.)

-Musa transformed for the first time after she’d turned 11 and had been arguing with her father after he’d found her guitar and flute. She’d refused to let them be destroyed and her magic summoned itself to transform her and let her protect her instruments.

-Ho-Boe had been so excited about her transformation that he’d allowed her to keep the instruments and quickly began starting her on more magic lessons and prepping her for entrance exams to the Magical Dimensions’ fairy schools. (Musa had almost, almost been a Beta fairy. Ehhh.)

-When Musa got to Alfea, she really clicked with Tecna. Yes, it helped they were roommates and had to share space so often, but Tecna was just… Everything Musa felt she needed in a friend.

-Tecna’s listening skills and ability to pick up on things made it easy for Musa to open up to Tecna (on her terms, of course). And it made it easy for her to feel okay with zoning out for a while with her music if she was having a bad day (or a depressive episode) without feeling like she had to explain it all to Tecna. Because she didn’t, Tecna already knew and just went with it by going about her own projects.

-(And the day that Tecna asked about learning to play an instrument to help her develop a new skillset for a ‘just in case’ scenario made Musa’s whole year. She figured keyboards would be for the best since Tecna’s already fast with her fingers and accurate.)

-Musa is the fastest flyer out of the girls. And yes, she rubs it in. (Especially to Layla. They have flying races often.)

-Musa has regular tea-time with Flora. It helps her to remind herself to take care of herself (because Flora always asks about her feelings and health) and it gives her a chance to wind down for a bit.

-She loves her pixie, Tune, but the manner’s bit drives her crazy from time-to-time. Thankfully, Tune has learned that Musa’s being blunt doesn’t mean she’s rude and Musa has learned just because Tune is very into manners doesn’t mean she’s pretentious. (And they’ve both really bonded through movies and pretend formal parties with Piff.)

-Musa and Riven have had many ups and downs as a couple and have had their moments of anger, but they both try to tamper it down as they get older. It helps that they’ve come up with an ‘honesty box’. They both make a ‘box’ around themselves and just speak their minds. No judgements, just talking and explaining and, if all goes well, a plan is made to try and fix the problem… Or at least, an effort is made to understand the problem.

-Musa is one of the few who knows just how bad Riven’s mother fucked with him, and she does her best to remind him that the opinions and actions of a bitch like that shouldn’t bother him. She understands why it does, and it’s okay that he feels hurt, but he is a better person than he gives himself credit for. (He’s not like his mother… He’s better than her.)

-She’s the first one to initiate pillow-fights and prank wars within the Winx Group. (Though she’s learned the hard way not to try and prank a sleeping Bloom… A fire fairy that’s startled awake is prone to burning the person ‘attacking’ them. Not fun. Thank the Dragon’s for Layla.)

-She’s also the first one to fall asleep. (Musa’s sort of like a shark. If she stops moving, she’s out. Though instead of death, it’s sleep.)

-Even though Musa loved her short hair (easy to style and kept her cool when it was hot), she wanted to experiment with her hair a bit and let it elongate. So far, she likes it alright, but she may cut it again in the future. Or go for a completely new style. Who knows?

-Musa had the best grades in the group, but only because she fought hard to study for exams and did her best on the homework. (Her mother was an A student. She would be too.)

-Out of the specialists, Musa’s actually pretty close Brandon and Timmy, for differing reasons.

-Musa and Brandon enjoy talking shit together when playing games. They also have a game (bad habit) where when out in public, they make remarks about ‘who walks by to check them out’ and making up ‘interesting scenarios with those people’ just to see what Stella and Riven will do.

-(They were not prepared for Stella and Riven to try their own version of the game, one that went explicit real fast. Never again…)

-Timmy likes to come to Musa for advice on Tecna (and to help get gifts for Tecna without her knowing). And they enjoy talking about music theory and how music can affect the mind and hearing.

-Musa has scars. Lots of scars. Mostly from childhood misadventures, but there a few from her adventures at Alfea and on Earth.

-(She likes Earth, by the way. The music here isn’t as soul-reaching in her opinion, but she enjoys the effort we non-magical beings put into our creative works. Her favorite genre so far is surprisingly showtunes…)

-Musa has a taste for spicy food and honestly the rest of the Winx are concerned that she no longer has tastebuds. At all. Like none.

-She is the second most-likely Winx to get physical in a fight, the first being Layla. (Musa’s getting pretty good at learning how to use a bo-staff and has trained in Melody’s martial art of Gian Liea.)

-Musa loves watching singing-reality shows. She goes on a binge and does her best to figure out what’s liked the most so she can incorporate them into her next performance.

-Musa loves being on stage and getting recognized for her music. She does not like having a whole ‘hero worship’ thing going on around her. (Yes, she helped save the Magical Dimension a few times. But dammit that’s mostly because she lives in the Magical Dimension and the authorities seem to be useless.)

-Musa may or may not have a juvenile record. (And it may or may not have to do with ‘disturbing the peace’, ‘fighting in non-designated zones’, and ‘vandalism’.)

-She’s fluent in several languages from the Harmonics realms and has learned a few of Earth’s languages too. (Not to mention, the language of Magix, also known as the linking language of all the Magical Dimension.)

-During her time at Alfea, Musa was part of the jazz club, glee club, band, and choir. She also briefly played Magi-Ball, but had to quit due to an injury to her knees.

-It shouldn’t be a surprise, but Musa wants to be an amazing music star, just like her mother was. She just hopes she’s talented enough to make it. (Which her father swears she’s does, and that just makes her feel like the best musician ever.)

#winx club #winx club au #winx club headcanons #winx club musa #winx musa #winx musa headcanons #melody fairy #harmonic singer

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lefaystrent · 5 years ago

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Nursing Home au

Patton works at the nursing home as a registered nurse, because the man truly cares for people.

He oversees the activities of the rest of the nursing staff, and he’s always keeping them in high spirits.

There’s a vacancy for a nursing aide. Who could possibly fill that position?

It’s Virgil.

At first, Patton honestly doesn’t think Virgil should have been hired there.

Patton had seen Virgil during the hiring process, and his personality didn’t seem like a … good fit. Too closed-off and kinda gruff, and probably not a good bedside manner, right?

Plus there was that criminal record to consider …

But the nursing home administrator hires him anyway, and Virgil joins the staff.

Patton keeps a close eye on Virgil.

Yes he feels guilty, but even Patton isn’t free from prejudices.

Virgil goes about his work very meticulously.

He arrives five minutes early every day, without fail.

He never complains about the tasks he’s been given, just quietly accepts them in a way that makes Patton and the others wonder what he’s really thinking.

He doesn’t talk casually with the other staff much, giving short answers whenever prompted.

Patton worries about the staff’s morale as a team.

Surprisingly, he starts hearing a lot of praise about Virgil. Not from the other staff members, but from the patients themselves.

One of them, a man named Roman, sounds like he’s complaining about him.

“And then he started criticizing my favorite movies!”

“I’m so sorry sir, I’ll talk to him about that.”

“What are you talking about? Kid had some good points. I like him.”

Patton starts subtly bringing up Virgil in conversations while visiting with the patients. For some, he doesn’t even have to warm up to the subject. They stop him in the hallway.

“Patton hun, you know that new boy with the eye-makeup?”

“Yes ma’am, that would be Virgil.”

“He’s so sweet. He helped me with my phone, it’s one of those smart ones? It wasn’t working right, and he fixed it. He’s a smart boy.”

The biggest sign is when one patient—Logan Crofters, who’s a notorious nitpicker—actually voices his approval of Virgil.

“He’s not an idiot,” is all Logan says on the matter, which coming from him, it’s high praise.

Patton doesn’t really understand yet why the patients have taken such a liking to him, but he endeavors to try harder to see who Virgil really is. Mostly he’s glad that his first impression seems to be wrong.

Virgil, for his part, doesn’t understand why the patients like him either.

He just knows that they do.

One of them goes out of their way to call him over to ask for his opinion on what color scarf to knit for their granddaughter.

Another one makes a point to introduce him to their visiting family.

Lots of them seem to like to talk his ear off in general and give him life advice.

Virgil doesn’t really mind it. He’s not used to people wanting to talk to him so much, and to be honest he could use some of the advice.

And the stories they have to share are kinda wild.

He likes bantering with the one old dude, Roman.

“I’ll have you know I’ve killed many a dragon witch in my day.”

“Was this before or after you went senile?”

“Brat.”

“Old fart.”

And then there’s Logan, the elderly man in a wheelchair. He’s probably the smartest man Virgil has ever talked to.

“You’d be surprised how many people assume I’m stupid.”

“You’re in a wheelchair, not braindead dude.”

“Yes, but I am old and crippled, and many people cannot separate physical inadequacy from mentality.”

“Well most people are idiots.”

Logan shows off his dentures in a rare grin.

After those two, there’s Remus.

Even the other staff members warn Virgil in advance about him.

It takes Virgil a month into working there to realize that he’s Roman’s brother.

It really should have been obvious.

“Virgil, where would you bury a body?”

“Why bury it when you can just burn it? Or feed it to some pigs; they’ll eat anything.”

“… oh, I like you.”

Okay, not so obvious, because Remus is a crazy old coot. But he’s got a lot of ideas and grand stories like Roman, only darker themed.

Virgil is convinced Remus is fucking with him to get a reaction out of him.

“He only says all that to get a rise out of you,” Logan confirms.

Challenge accepted.

Virgil continues being a bomb ass nurse.

He’s always super self conscious around his superior, Patton.

He knows Patton is wary of him and Virgil is terrified of messing up in front of him.

Or messing up in general. Poor babe really is too hard on himself.

Even the patients worry about him from time to time.

“You getting enough sleep at night, son? Ya got bags under your eyes!”

“That’s makeup, sir. You know that’s my makeup.”

“Hahaha, but it was funny, right? But seriously, are you sleeping enough?”

And Virgil can’t count how many times they’ve thrown food at him.

“You’re too skinny. You need to eat more.”

“I already eat a lot. I’ve got a high metabolism.”

“Is that one of those social media sites?”

“Roman, if you don’t stop acting stupid—”

“Kidding! I have an Instagram after all. Which you should totally follow me, by the way.”

It’s like suddenly being adopted and Virgil is now the grandson to many old folk.

He’s not even surprised when someone tries to set him up with one of their grandchildren.

What does surprise him is that it’s Logan.

“You should meet my grandson, Remy. Judging from what I’ve observed of your personality, you two would be compatible.”

“Huh, that’s funny, Roman’s got a grandson named Remy too.”

“Yes, Remy is both our grandson.”

“Wait, what?”

“We used to be married, Roman and I. Didn’t you know he was my ex-husband?”

Somehow Virgil has missed that.

But he is so going to grill them for details, because Roman with Logan?

Roman jumps on board when Virgil brings it up.

“Yes! Remy! You would be perfect for him! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it first!”

Virgil laughs it off because they can’t be serious.

Of course, they’re very serious.

Virgil is doing his rounds when he walks into Roman’s room and a guy not too far off from his own age standing there in a leather jacket and shades.

“Oh, you are cute,” the guy says in a way that lets Virgil know that he’s clearly heard about Virgil before.

Roman is exceedingly proud.

Virgil officially meets Remy, the grandson.

It’s awkward.

By the end of it, Virgil apparently has a date after work that he swears he doesn’t remember agreeing to.

Remy’s waiting for him in the lobby.

“You ready for the night of your life, babe?”

“…”

“Wait, you’re walking the opposite direction. Come back.”

Virgil goes out to eat with Remy.

Remy actually apologizes for his grandfathers.

“They’re cool old gay dudes, but they can be really pushy. They’ve been complaining about me being single for like yeaaars. Um, maybe I like being single?”

“Do you?”

“Okay, a bitch is lonely, but gurl, I can find a man or whoever on my own, amirite?”

“Why’d you agree to this then?”

“’Cause you really are cute and seem cool. Plus can we just talk about your aesthetic for a sec? What products do you use on your hair? The purple dye is perf.”

It’s not really a date.

But Virgil might have made a friend out of it, at least.

Virgil finds himself talking about it the next day with Patton.

It just sort of happens.

“They set me up with their grandson.”

“Oh Remy? You’ve met him?”

“Yeah…”

“Well? How’d it go?”

“Uh … I’m not sure? Like, I’m pretty sure we established it wasn’t really a date. But I think we might …”

“Might what?”

“Be … friends?”

“That’s nice, Virgil,” Patton says in a way that Virgil can tell he means it.

Virgil shrugs. “Yeah, I don’t know what I’m gonna tell his granddads though. Their gonna jump on me as soon as they see me. God old people love to gossip more than teenagers.”

“Just try to let them down easy, okay? They really adore Remy and just want him to be happy.”

It’s the first conversation Virgil has with him that doesn’t make him nervous.

The days go by and Virgil is starting to feel like he’s really settling in.

He still doesn’t understand why the patients like him so much.

Not until Patton finally sheds some insight.

It’s a busy enough day, and then Remus has one of his episodes.

He’s screaming and the other staff members who are more experienced with dealing with him are trying to settle him down.

Virgil hears the commotion from down the hall and comes running into the day room where all the patients gather and visit or watch tv.

“He gets like this sometimes,” Logan tells him. Roman sits silently beside him holding his hand, lips pressed in a thin white line and eyes not looking away from the chaotic scene.

Remus is throwing things at the nurses, yelling something about how the lights are trying to eat him.

“It’s best to stay back, Virgil,” Logan tells him.

Virgil doesn’t listen.

He goes and turns off the lights.

There’s still enough sunlight filtering in through the windows, enough to see. But everyone looks around.

Virgil pushes through the other staff.

He nudges Patton aside who had been attempting to console him.

Patton wants to pull him back. Remus is in a vulnerable state of mind right now and it could be bad for either of them.

But Virgil leans in and starts talking in a low voice to Remus.

And … it’s working.

Remus’s screams taper off.

He doesn’t look any less confused or scared. Just subdued.

“I want to go,” he says, eyes looking through everyone there. “Want to go back to my room now. Want to go back.”

“Okay, we can go, Remus. Let’s go,” Virgil says and guides him out.

It’s a slow process, but they make it to his room, Patton hovering close the entire way.

They give Remus a mild sedative to help him relax.

When Virgil walks out of the room, Roman is standing there.

He doesn’t say anything to Virgil, but he claps a hand on his shoulder.

There’s gratitude glistening in his eyes.

Roman goes into the room.

Virgil leaves for the break room. He’s definitely earned a break.

Plus his hands are kind of shaking, but shhhhh, don’t tell anyone.

After a long time, Patton comes into the room.

He sits at the table with Virgil.

“He’ll be fine,” Patton assures him.

“I didn’t say I was worried for him.”

Patton smiles and shakes his head.

“They all love you, you know?” he surprises Virgil by saying. “The patients. You do a lot of good by them.”

Virgil shrugs. “I don’t see why. I’m just me. Just doing my job. Nothing special.”

“You treat them like people.”

Patton leans closer over the table. Virgil doesn’t look away.

“You listen to them. And you talk to them, like they’re people. And for them, these people who have lost a lot of their independence and are often left forgotten here by even their own families—that’s worth a lot.”

Virgil doesn’t know if he believes all that.

But it’s a nice thought.

#sanders sides #patton #patton sanders #virgil #virgil sanders #roman #roman sanders #logan #logan sanders #remus #remus sanders #remy #remy sanders #nursing home au

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diifacto · 4 years ago

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Saw your post about the hunger games and i completly agree. Anyway you said there wasn't really a love triangle and now I'm curious what you mean with that? I mean like imma start following you anyway now so i won't miss it when you talk about this, but...

I’ve gotten a lot of questions/comments like this one on the statement I made in my last Hunger Games post about the series having no real love triangle, so here’s me (finally) explaining my reasoning.

It was really hard to organize my thoughts in a cohesive, complete way, as I’ve never actually organized my arguement on paper—just verbally, usually yelling (passionately) at my sister—so I’ve split them up into categories based on which aspects of the novels I’m discussing.

First Impressions

Beginning, as all things do, with first impressions. The Hunger Games is, first and foremost, categorized as a YA novel. Now, I love YA. I’ve been reading YA all my life and will probably continue doing so for the rest of it. But there are a ton of tropes/patterns found consistently through just about every YA novel out there, just as in any other genre—sci-fi has spaceships, blasters, and aliens; fantasy has monarchies, dragons, and curses; and YA has love triangles, rebellions, “bad boy” boyfriends, etc. Obviously, this is a gross generalization, but you know what I mean—when Katniss introduces Gale as “the only person with whom I can be myself,” and he checks off the attractive and male boxes on top of it, anyone who’s ever read YA has alarm bells going off in their head: Love Interest Detected.

But, before anything can happen with Gale, we’re heading straight into the Games, where we are confronted with yet another possible love interest. Peeta, Katniss’s competitor—but fake, star-crossed lover? And they have history from back in District 12? We have ourselves a second Love Interest, and therefore we’ve got ourselves a Love Triangle!

(Ignore the Games, of course. The oppressed, impoverished, desperate state of the districts under the Capitol’s control. The children being sent to die for their amusement. The two sixteen-year-olds doing anything they can to stay alive one more day. No, we’ve got some romance on our hands!)

And isn’t that it? Readers go into The Hunger Games, are introduced to these two young, attractive men, who obviously have feelings for Katniss, and whom Katniss depends on (we’ll dig into the significance of that later) in return—and understandably assume this’ll blossom into a plot point. And it does, but not in the way readers are expecting. Suzanne Collins herself never portrays Gale and Peeta as opposing love interests; rather, she uses them to represent opposing worldviews, a huge choice Katniss has to make in Catching Fire. What readers are expecting to happen, though—Love Triangle, Katniss choosing one of the boys, Team Peeta or Team Gale, etc.—can get in the way of how they perceive what Suzanne Collins is really trying to say.

Katniss’s “Choice”

I’d like to present a word to you: juxtaposition. I learned it in English class, it’s fun to say, and it means, according to Google, “The fact of two things being seen or placed close together with contrasting effect.” I think it describes love triangles pretty well; after all, isn’t a love triangle just two, different people placed in the same situation, each with their respective pros and cons? I also think it describes Gale and Peeta’s characters pretty well; except instead of Suzanne Collins juxtaposing them based on their looks, general atheleticism, and by who remembers Katniss’s birthday, she aligns them with two possible futures for Katniss, and two different beliefs.

A life with Peeta means a lifetime of keeping her head down, following the path the Capitol has set for her, living in fear and suffocating oppression, hoping the spark will die out. A life with Gale means the opposite: taking it to the Capitol, rebelling against the Games, turning the spark into a flame and hoping everyone she loves survives the fire.

This is the choice Katniss makes in Catching Fire. When she kisses Gale after he’s been whipped, it’s not because she’s coming into any newfound feelings, it’s because she’s made her decision—to stay and rebel against the Capitol. And in this choice, a life with Peeta is of the Capitol’s invention, and a life with Gale is only another way to rebel.

That’s all there really is to Katniss’s “choice.”

Dependence

“But Margaret,” you say, “Katniss does have feelings for Gale and Peeta in return.” Oh, sure. I won’t argue there—there’s a reason, aside from them being superficially perfect Love Interest archetypes, that both these boys themselves do appeal to Katniss. But these “feelings,” this reason, aren’t/isn’t inherently romantic.

After Katniss’s father died, Collins depicts how Katniss’s mother fell into an incredibly lethargic state, sick with sadness, and effectively abandoned eleven-year-old Katniss to deal with her own grief and keep the family alive, all alone. Understandably, this experience has kept Katniss from trusting easily or becoming too dependent on people, lest they do the same and leave when she needs them. For the most part, Katniss lives independently, relying on no one for support, not accepting help. But why, when people argue that Katniss does have feelings for both Gale and Peeta, do I have to admit that while I disagree overall, there is something there Katniss doesn’t let herself feel for anyone else? What makes these two boys different from everyone else in The Hunger Games?

Simple: they’re the only two people Katniss (reluctantly) lets herself depend on.

When discussing Gale’s popularity among the girls at school, Katniss mentions that it makes her jealous, but not for the reason people think. “Good hunting partners are hard to find,” she says, 1. acknowledging Gale’s desirability, 2. making her lack of romantic interest clear, and 3. admitting she relies on him as a hunting partner, and feels threatened by the idea of losing him. And of course she does—especially since Collins shows us that it isn’t just Katniss herself depending on Gale; after the reaping it will be Prim, who Katniss describes as the only person in the world she’s certain she loves, and her mother. Without Gale, and with Katniss heading off to the Games, she has no way to ensure Prim’s safety. Thus, Katniss is incredibly dependent on Gale.

Peeta comes later, but equally as necessary; offering Katniss safety through their star-crossed lovers strategy, and, later, an understanding of the Games she can’t get from anyone else. Katniss, someone so scared of depending on people, has ended up depending on these two boys for different things. Gale, to protect her family, her home, to offer her freedom from the stifling nature of the Capitol and the Victor’s Village; and Peeta, to offer her understanding and freedom in a different way, from the dreams, from the arena, from the pressure of keeping everyone alive.

So when people counter my opinion that Katniss never had any romantic feelings for either Gale nor, initially, Peeta (we’ll break that “initially” down, don’t worry), I’ll give them that, yes, Gale and Peeta got something from Katniss no one else did: trust. And trust is, of course, a fantastic base for a healthy, romantic relationship. But it doesn’t become one in Hunger Games. Katniss loves Gale, and she loves Peeta, I can’t argue that. But that love isn’t romantic.

Debts Owed

This will be very brief—just something to think about, to go along with my analysis of Katniss’s dependence.

I need to acknowledge that, while my arguement is that Katniss never had any definitively romantic feelings for either Gale or Peeta, they definitely did for her. And she knew. So, just for a moment, I’d like us to consider the thought process of someone who has never, ever, let herself depend on anyone else—depending on someone who obviously wants something more from her?

Do you think she may feel like she owes something to this person, as thanks? Do you think she might be afraid, if they weren’t to get what they want, that they might leave? Do you think that, even if she didn’t have any romantic feelings for either of the two, she might kiss them, just in case?

I’m not saying this is the case in Hunger Games, but as I was writing up “Dependence,” it occurred to me: what would that really do to a person? And I just wanted to bring it up for discussion. When Katniss made her choice—rebellion—did she have to seal that choice with a kiss? Or was that her way of ensuring that yes, she was picking rebellion, and Gale was the rebellious choice, and yes, this kiss, this promise, will keep him by my side.

Was Gale Ever Really A “Contender”?

Let’s tie the frayed ends of “First Impressions”/“Katniss’s ‘Choice’”/“Dependence”/“Debts Owed” together. If you’ve made it this far, you’ve an inexhaustible well of patience, and I applaud you.

Remember when I added that “initially” when discussing Katniss’s lack of romantic feelings for Peeta? While I’m still firmly on the side of Katniss ending up single—at least for a few years, while the poor girl recovers and figures all the shit you’re supposed to understand in your teens, and when you’ve been through a war, out—of both “choices,” of course she ends up with Peeta. Why? Well.

Despite the “choice,” despite dependence, despite all the evidence laid here on the contrary, despite all that, if you still think there’s a love triangle in Hunger Games, explain to me this: you need two love interests to make a love triangle—and was Gale ever really a contender?

Let’s walk through it. Right from the beginning, immediately after Suzanne Collins introduces Gale, she has Katniss go through the steps discussed in “Dependence”; acknowledge desirability and attractiveness, state her disinterest romantically, and move on. Already, sweeping any suggestion that Katniss may have some unspoken, romantic love towards Gale. Not to say it couldn’t develop—but it doesn’t.

Catching Fire is where the boys are perhaps juxtaposed the most, with Katniss’s “choice” coming into play. Remember what I said about debts owed? Gale continues to push Katniss’s boundaries, confessing his love, pressuring her, even after she’s expressed her disinterest in love right now (amid all this death and rebellion, a perfectly fucking normal sentiment) and confusion around the subject. Not only that, but he insults Peeta, Haymitch, and those involved with the Games (ex. Cinna, Effie, Katniss’s prep team) by lumping them in with the Capitol, and while the latter is a fair judgement, he doesn’t listen to Katniss when she tries to defend them and explain they’re rebelling in their own way, same as him. Gale in Catching Fire begins his “downwards spiral,” as he turns everything black and white, shunning Katniss when she doesn’t agree 100% and accepting her back with open arms after she kisses him.

Peeta, on the other hand, understands the gray area. He listens to Katniss, and although he’s getting exactly what he wants—a relationship with Katniss, a life with Katniss—he takes no joy in it because he knows it isn’t what Katniss wants. Remember after their proposal, on the Victory Tour, when Katniss asks Haymitch why Peeta’s not happy, as this was what he wanted? Haymitch tells her it’s because he wanted it to be real. And that’s true for Peeta throughout the whole trilogy; he truly cares about Katniss’s wants, tries his hardest not to pressure her, and is genuinely a continuous source of support. He rebels, the entire time, in his own quiet, calculated way; with the money in District 11, with the “baby bomb” in the interviews.

Here’s a juxtaposition for you: Peeta’s love for Katniss isn’t conditional; Gale’s is.

For proof, just look at Mockingjay. Specifically, look at—spoilers—Prim’s death.

Everyone knows that girl is the most important thing in the world to Katniss. All of District 12 knows it, President Snow knows it, President Coin knows it—hell, regular, average citizens of the Capitol know it. Everyone knows there is nothing, nothing in the world that could make Katniss put Primrose in danger, even at her own expense. Katniss would rather die than have Prim get hurt, and anyone close to her, who loves her, knows damn well that’s what she’d want.

So when Gale’s bomb goes off, delivering the final blow to the Capitol, at the expense of so many innocent lives, at the expense of Katniss’s sister—there was no love for Katniss there. There was absolutely no consideration, no respect for Katniss. There was just violence, and the hungry, desperate need to win this war, to rebel.

I could never say that Katniss and Gale weren’t a great team. I could never say they weren’t good, lifelong friends—I mean, starting out. They were fantastic hunting partners, further shown in Mockingjay, when they started hunting people instead of deer or turkey or wild dogs. But they grew apart, after Katniss changed in the Games and Gale changed in the rebellion, and there was never, really, the chance of anything romantic between them. Katniss depended on Gale to, above all other things, protect her sister, and he didn’t, so she stopped depending on him. And there wasn’t anything left.

That’s what I mean when I say, even if you think Katniss had real feelings for Peeta—and they do end up together, so even if I don’t agree with it, okay, alright, maybe it was Suzanne Collins’ intention—there’s still no love triangle, because Katniss never had feelings for Gale. And even if, maybe, maybe some would’ve developed—we’re getting into pure hypotheticals here—his character never would’ve been a real option for Katniss. They changed too much, and grew too far apart, and there would have been absolutely no chance for him after Prim.

Conclusion

In conclusion, I’m sorry. I’m more cohesive and intelligent verbally. Most of the time. Promise.

In conclusion, there is no love triangle in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games. Rather, there are two boys who have feelings for the same girl, and this girl, who never depends on anyone, depends on these two boys for different things, and has to make a huge, horrible, irreversible choice, and somehow it ends up attaching itself to these two boys. And that’s really all there is to it.

#booklr #book blog #opinion #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #gale #peeta #love triangle #it’s not actually a love triangle and here’s why #katniss should’ve ended up alone #fiction #katniss everdeen #suzanne collins #young adult #sorry this took so long I’m an unproductive mess #I swear I’m more cohesive in person #usually whilst yelling at my sister #book review

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adamarks · 5 years ago

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Penny’s relationship troubles and how that relates to Simon and Baz

aka my Baz and Penny mirror post

I said I’d do this and god what a fucking emotional ride we’re about to go on. Strap in, my dudes.

In Carry On, it’s well-established that Penelope is Baz’s mirror character. She’s mostly static in the book (because it’s almost completely focused on Baz and Simon) and she’s used mainly as a literary device. Her mirroring Baz in particular is established very plainly. Both of them being top of the class; both of them geeking out over spells; both of them geeking out over marriage spells; their mothers both being headmasters; both of them getting out chalkboards and making the exact same types of lists. It’s very much in-your-face screaming in Carry On.

It’s not so obvious in Wayward Son.

The main reason for this is that Penny was upgraded from static to rounded in this book. She has an entire arc of doubting herself, which will most likely be completed in the next book. However, just because it’s not banging pots and pans in your face doesn’t mean the mirroring isn’t there.

Let’s dig in.

Rainbow did something I really, really loved with this book: she made sure we know that happy endings aren’t what we’re told. The story doesn’t end because the Prince and Princess kissed-- how did they hang on? How did they make it to the hundredth kiss? Did they even make it to the hundredth kiss?

This book tells us that sometimes they don’t make it to the hundredth kiss.

This lesson is what’s got a lot of people’s panties in a knot. Here’s the thing though: it’s not a bleak lesson; it’s a warning. It’s a reminder that we have to keep trying; we have to want that hundredth kiss.

Simon and Baz want that hundredth kiss. They just don’t know how to get there.

Wow guys I’m gonna have to struggle to not cry while writing this. Wish me luck.

Yes, the boys are morons that can’t communicate. How does Penny fit in?

She didn’t get to that hundredth kiss.

Micah and Penny are what happen when you just expect happily ever after to take care of getting you to the next kiss.

Micah declares what the lesson Penny (assumedly with Shepherd Tornado Chaser Supreme) is going to learn about relationships is in Chapter twelve:

“A relationship isn’t about the end. It’s about being together every step of the way.”

This may be Penny’s lesson, but this is also a sort of (in my opinion) apology from Rainbow. Because, what was Baz and Simon getting together if not just a nice little tie up as part of a happy ending. What are queer consumers of media usually fed? Our representation usually dies, breaks up, or ends up together all happy go lucky right at the end. We don’t get to see characters we relate to struggle. We don’t get to see them still be miserably in love but unsure how to make it work when shit gets rough.

Wayward Son is what happens when you don’t know how to keep going, but god do you want to.

“I told you that I thought we’d grown apart--”

“And I said that was natural!”

(also taken from Chapter 12 of Wayward)

Simon and Baz growing apart when Simon is so severely depressed and unable to communicate is natural. It’s natural, but it doesn’t mean that he’s going about it the right way. Simon is fucked up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but (and this is coming from someone that’s struggled with the same kinds of thoughts Simon’s suffering from) that’s no excuse for him to hurt Baz in the process.

Simon even realizes that this is a terrible way to go about this. It’s why he’s thinking about breaking up with Baz.

i almost cried typing that just now rainbow why simon why i’m dying i-

BREAKING UP WITH BAZ IS NOT THE ANSWER, SIMON!!

Simon needs to learn how to communicate. How to talk about what he’s feeling and what he needs.

Here’s the thing though: Baz does too.

This is where Penny’s mirroring comes into play. Micah and Penny apparently didn’t talk for two whole months and she didn’t notice. They didn’t talk. They didn’t communicate. This is what killed their relationship.

This is what’s killing Simon and Baz’s.

In Chapter Fifteen we see Simon mulling over Penny and Micah breaking up:

“Penelope and Micah were going to get married.

And now... Merlin, what now?”

I’ll come back to the concept of “endgames” throughout this series, but for now, apply that to Baz and Simon.

Baz and Simon were supposed to live happily ever after, but ever afters don’t work like that. So, now what?

Everything sucks. We are all in Pain. The dumbasses won’t talk. What do we DO, JAY?

god, what do we do. suffer i guess idk.

Okay but for real, we don’t have to worry. Rainbow knows what their issue is. And! She’ll make sure it’s resolved! How do I know?

Well, I’ll tell ya.

Shepard.

We were introduced to a brand new, absolutely batshit, completely delightful character in Wayward. He’s spunky, he’s fun, but what does he do best?

Fucking. Talk.

He doesn’t shut the fuck up!! He’s completely honest and he just talks. Bitch will tell you his entire life story without batting an eye! This is what Penny needs.

This is where Simon and Baz are going to end up.

Perhaps not exactly, that doesn’t suit their personalities. This is what they’ll end up being, though: completely honest with each other.

These fuckers are constantly thinking about each other throughout the book.

“Oh he’s so beautiful.” “Oh he’s so charming.” “Oh he’s so funny and smart.” “Oh he’s so heroic and brave.” “Oh, i’d give him my whole being.” “Oh I wish he’d let me in” “Oh I love him so much.” “I love him.”

They’d both feel so, so, so much better if they just said shit out loud. Good god.

But neither of them are a) in a place where they can say it and b) in a place where they’ll believe it.

This brings us to our next biggie:

Baz still doesn’t like himself.

Simon’s obviously having troubles with self loathing. That’s not even a question in anyone’s mind. Simon’s depression and lack of self worth is one of (if not the) main vocal points of the book.

The issue with Simon’s sadness getting the spotlight is that we overlook Baz’s a bit. It’s thrown in so that we don’t notice immediately, because we’re not supposed to. Baz’s self-hatred isn’t as loud as Simon’s and he’s been dealing with it a lot longer. It’s a self-loathing he’s learned to live with-- he’s used to it by now.

Sometimes the demons we learn to live with are the most vicious of all.

I think it’s very clever that the most overt time we see Baz disliking himself is in his Things I Hate List in Chapter Fourteen.

“11. The wind in my hair.

12. Convertible automobiles.

13. Myself, most of all.

14. My soft heart.

15. My foolish optimism.

16. The words “road” and “trip,” when said together with any enthusiasm.”

It’s slipped in there awful sneaky! You’re giggling and going “oh thank god maybe I won’t be sad through the whole book” then BANG! there it is. But, right after we have “my soft heart” and you’re going “oh my poor baby he’s so sweet I love him” before you really had time to process number 13 as anything aside from an “lol i’m hot and icky and i hate myself” joke.

Baz is used to hating himself. It’s everyday whatever. Simon’s is only louder because he’s not used to being allowed time to think about the bad stuff. Everyday before the end of Carry On for Simon was just struggling to get to the next day-- whether that was at Watford or a home. Simon’s happy when he doesn’t have to think; Baz can’t just not think.

Penny’s just learned what doubting herself entails; Baz has been doubting himself for the last decade.

No matter how much they coo at each other, it won’t fix the underlying issue: Baz and Simon don’t like themselves.

This is the main internal conflict of the series for all of the characters: loving yourself for what you are.

This brings us to Agatha.

If you haven’t read my meta on simon being a dragon hell yes then you might want to. I discuss Agatha being a mirror for Simon fairly thoroughly in it.

Remember how I told you to put a pin in the concept of “endgames” earlier? Well, here we are. Agatha was supposed to be the “endgame.”

Endgames! Are! Bullshit!

Human beings are not our consolation prizes for getting through shit. Becoming stronger as people and loving ourselves more is our prize. Realizing how much you can withstand, how hard you can fight, how amazing you are for surviving is your prize for getting through it.

None of these guys realize this yet. Agatha and Simon just think there’s nothing good that’s going to come out of their lives and Baz and Penelope just think that maybe their “prizes” weren’t what they thought they were.

Maybe the rewards for our efforts were really just inside us the whole time. uwu.

Penny is just starting to think of plans again by the end of the book, but this time they’re looser, wilder, even more hairbrained than before and she really only has one plan at best! She’s learning that she can be strong and capable even when she doesn’t have all the facts and doesn’t have all the details thought through. Penny’s learning to loosen up.

Baz is in a better place by the end of Wayward too. He’s learned so much about vampires and even himself. Like sure I fuckin’ hate Lamb but he helped Baz to realize that... maybe he isn’t a monster. Maybe magical creatures aren’t lesser. Maybe he’s not any less human just because he can drink their blood.

They’re the only two that really, really develop in this book. Simon and Agatha change but mostly stay the same mentality-wise. Agatha still thinks she’s doomed to be a damsel in distress and Simon still thinks he’s just The Boy That Was. Baz and Penny are the most dynamic characters in Wayward Son.

I’m putting my money on next book being Agatha and Simon’s big development book. And at this point I’m convinced it’s going to be more than a trilogy.

Now! Let’s talk about Agatha and Penny.

@stressedidiot pointed out to me that Penny and Agatha holding hands and burning shit down in the last scene was supposed to call back to Baz and Simon. They’re absolutely right. I think the most important thing that was calling back to was Simon giving Baz his magic in Carry On.

This parallel confused me at first: why would Rainbow need to remind us of that scene? I know I personally have the Ladybird and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star scenes permanently ingrained in my head forever. Obviously we didn’t forget that Simon could pour his magic.

Here’s the thing.

Baz and Simon don’t stay together during any of the fight scenes in this book. They always get separated or one of them gets hurt or they’re scrambling trying to find or catch the other one.

They’ve forgotten that they work best when they’re together.

That was one of the main takeaways from Carry On. Simon and Baz work best when they’re together.

“A relationship isn’t about the end. It’s about being together every step of the way.”

Every! Step! Of! The! Way!

This is where my dragon Simon theory really comes into play. If Simon does end up with some sort of dragonesque powers, somehow Baz and him are going to share it.

When Baz figures out how to drink from humans without killing them, Simon’s going to be right there, ready to open up a vein.

This is the true beauty of their relationship. Simon wants to be the one to lead the dance of kisses and intimacy and communication, and Baz wants to be there to give him anything he wants. Baz has received Simon’s magic; he’s gonna drink Simon’s blood; and he’s somehow going to receive something from Simon regarding this dragon business.

“I’d give him all that I am.

I’d give him all that I was.

I’d open up a vein.”

They give and take and equal measures. They love each other wholly. I’m gesturing to my computer screen out of stress right now. They literally love each other that much!

Agatha and Penny sharing a magic conduit at the end of Wayward Son is a reminder of what happened between Simon and Baz and also foreshadowing of where they’ll be again.

Imagine how powerful they’ll be once they remember how to work together.

They were practically unstoppable before when they worked together-- they turned back a dragon.

But now their love for each other is stronger than ever. It’ll only grow once they finally talk. Once they communicate.

Two people, so strong separately coming together with only love and understanding for each other.

With their hearts beating together, they could do more than turn back a dragon.

They could change the world.

check my meta about simon’s wings being The Gay

And also my one about the scarf

Thank you for reading this word vomit. Just wanted to tag a few people that might be interested in seeing this shitstorm of a meta:

@goodie-giving-gecko-gets-gatos @singerofsimplesongs @wisest-girl @watfordwallflower @slaying-fictional-dragons @carrybits

#simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #basilton pitch #penelope bunce #carry on #wayward son #wayward son spoilers #meta #agatha wellbelove #shepherd wayward son #i can't remember shepherd's last name #did they tell us?#rainbow rowell #snowbaz #dragon simon #Simon and Baz #baz and simon

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corishadowfang · 4 years ago

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Cut Scenes: Putting Up Posters

Working on editing the current draft for On my Heart, and I’ve come across a chapter that I’m likely going to have to cut, and I am...so sad about it. A lot of the stuff that’s here is going to be recycled and used in different places throughout the story, but I wanted to put the scene as-is somewhere. (Disclaimer: The scene itself is currently only lightly-edited.)

The scene itself is under the cut! (Also, head’s up, this is about...13 pages in Word, so...not a particularly short scene.)

Trigger Warnings: Aiden has a panic attack and a flashback towards the end of the scene. Please stay safe and don’t read if you think that’s something that might be difficult for you.

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He stayed a few paces behind Jackie as she walked into the city, trying to ignore the glances she kept sending his way. This is stupid, he thought bitterly. I’m not going to do anything bad. How the hell am I actually supposed to put these things up with her watching me the whole time? He shot her a frustrated glance. It’s not like she wants me to get pardoned.

But he had to do it sometime. Otherwise, what else was he supposed to do?

Aiden took a deep breath, free hand slipping into his pocket. Nothing met his fingers, and he fumbled around a bit, patting his pockets, before cursing quietly and slapping a hand over his face. Shit, I forgot the tape.

Kiru tilted his head and trilled quietly.

Aiden’s hand ran down his cheek. Okay, okay. This is—fine. It’s fine. I just have to—give them out, I guess.

His eyes darted around the street, pointedly not focusing on Jackie’s back. “Uh. Hey!” He tried to wave a person down.

Jackie stopped, giving him a confused look, before seeming to realize the statement hadn’t been directed to her. Her eyebrows furrowed.

Aiden’s cheeks burned. He tried not to look at her.

The man he’d waved down gave him a slightly befuddled look. “Did you need something?”

“Uh.” He shoved the paper into the man’s hands. “Here.”

This is not fine.

The man took it with a slightly confused expression, but Aiden turned on his heel and left, hurrying past Jackie.

Jackie, to his surprise, didn’t say anything, and he didn’t stop to look at her expression.

This is stupid. This is so dumb, they’re going to figure it out, I’m going to get caught, or they’re going to think I’m some weird—I don’t know, criminal sympathizer, even though I’m not, I’m not a criminal, I—

Kiru tugged on the papers.

“Wha—Kiru, wait, what are you doing?”

Kiru pulled one free, in the process causing Aiden to lose his grip. Some of the papers scattered, and Aiden fumbled to catch them.

Kiru ignored him, instead taking the poster and running to a passing woman. She bent, looking slightly confused.

Aiden ducked his head, cheeks burning.

Abruptly someone shoved a poster in his face.

Aiden yelped, tumbling backwards.

“What is this?” Jackie asked, voice pitching incredulously.

“A, uh. A poster?”

Jackie gave him an exasperated look, then looked at Aiden’s crudely-made poster. “‘Provenance’s Dragon isn’t the monster you think he is. He acted in self-defense. He was attacked by a man named Tyson Gable.’”

“Well, I—he was.” Aiden looked glumly at the stack of posters. He wasn’t much of an artist; his attempts at rendering a dragon looked more like blobs (but he supposed that made it less real). He couldn’t say he was much of a story-teller, either, and had ended up throwing whatever he could think of haphazardly onto the paper (but it was the truth, wasn’t it?). The posters were obviously created by an amateur, and probably wouldn’t be taken seriously.

This was dumb.

Kiru returned and stole another poster, running back down the street.

Jackie asked, “What exactly are you trying to accomplish here?”

Aiden struggled not to grind his teeth. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Aiden stood, clutching the posters a little tighter.

“What the hell are you trying to do? Stir up sympathy?” Jackie waved the poster at him. “Did you think these would work?”

“Not so loud,” he hissed. “Just because you might want to get caught—”

“I don’t,” she growled, looking like she was a half second away from throttling him. “I want to get to the bottom of—whatever this is.” She gestured vaguely at him, and at Kiru, who had returned for another poster. “But I don’t want to babysit you while you’re throwing these half-assed attempts to get out of punishment at people, especially if you might get us caught.”

Fury burned bitter in Aiden’s throat and chest. He whipped around, stalking up to someone.

“Aiden—”

“Hey,” Aiden said, sounding bolder than he actually felt, “you know Provenance’s Dragon?”

The man blanched, then looked around wildly, confusion flashing across his face. “Yes?”

Aiden shoved a paper towards him. “Well, there are things you don’t know about his case.”

Kiru trilled approvingly.

Aiden tried not to feel self-conscious as the man took the poster. ‘Half-assed attempts.’ We’ll see. I’ll show you that I’m not—

The man’s exasperated sigh broke through his thoughts. “Sure, kid. I’m sure this is accurate.”

“Wha—it is!”

“Sure, sure, and you know more than the police.” The man gave him a patronizing look. “We don’t need any more people trying to justify dragons.”

“I’m not—”

The man shoved the paper back into his chest. “Listen, I don’t care if you want to play at social justice, or whatever, but leave me out of it.”

Aiden gawked as the man left.

Kiru let out a hiss, then snorted decisively.

“See?” Jackie said.

“It’s one person,” Aiden insisted, turning away pointedly.

Jackie caught his arm.

“Let go.”

“If you want to get yourself caught, then be my guest, but I’m not letting you act reckless while I’m still around.”

Kiru bit her.

Jackie jerked free, holding her arm tightly to her chest, eyes blown wide. “And call your Familiar off.” Her voice went unusually high.

Aiden muttered, “Like he’d listen,” at which Kiru made a pointed snort. Aiden took a deep breath and hurried forward, hoping Jackie would keep her distance long enough for him to do something. “Hey,” he said, flagging down another person, “can I talk to you about Provenance’s Dragon?”

The woman made a disgruntled face. “I’ve heard enough about that brat on the news.”

“I-I, I’m not—it’s not really like that, I just—oh, you’re leaving, o-okay. Uh, hey! Hey you! I have some information on Provenance’s Dragon.”

The man said, “That should really go to the police.”

“It’s, um—it’s not really that kind of—hey, wait!” He turned in a tight circle, trying to catch the eye of someone else. “Here!” He shoved the paper into their chest.

They jumped back, startled, crumpling the paper and walking away.

“You know,” someone said, startling him, “if you’re interested in Provenance’s Dragon, you’re talking to the wrong crowd.”

Aiden whipped around.

A man leaned against a building, watching him with a wry look.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“Your average person? They don’t give a shit about this whole thing. Well, aside from the whole ‘dragons may attack us’ thing.” The man pushed away from the wall. “But I can tell—you’re a kid who gets it.”

“I—thank you?” Aiden blinked, ignoring Kiru as he stood tense on his shoulder. “Who—who are these people?”

Someone grabbed his arm roughly, and it took him a moment to realize it was Jackie. “He’s not interested,” she growled.

The man lifted his hand. “Easy, easy, just trying to pass along information. Kid seemed curious—”

“We don’t want anything to do with Familiar users.”

The man barked a laugh. “Lady, you know that there are tons of Familiar users out there, right? What, do you put them all under the same label?”

Jackie tugged him away. “We’re leaving.”

“Jackie, wait!”

But Jackie was still stronger than him, and she tugged him unceremoniously into an alleyway, whipping him around to face her without letting go of his arm. “Drop the posters.”

Aiden tensed. His grip on them tightened a little. “No.”

“Drop them.”

“N-no!”

Jackie narrowed her eyes.

Aiden struggled to meet her glare, steeling himself as best he could, heart thundering. He managed a few seconds before he lowered his head, his grip on the posters loosening a little.

Kiru, however, didn’t seem ready to relent; he twisted down Aiden’s arm, chittering angrily in Jackie’s direction.

This time, Jackie didn’t move, though she did tense a little. “This is both dangerous and pointless. You understand that, don’t you?”

“It’s not.”

“It’s not? How is going up to people in the street talking about Provenance’s Dragon, unprovoked, not dangerous?”

“Y-you know, ‘unprovoked’ makes me sound like—like a criminal, and that’s probably a little harsh for handing out posters.”

“Like it or not, you are, a criminal, and—why is this thing still growling at me?”

Kiru’s flames whipped wildly, a low rumble running through his throat.

“Because he doesn’t like you.”

Jackie gave him an unimpressed look. “Familiars can’t form opinions on people. They can figure out whether someone is a potential threat—which is what I guess it’s responding to.” Jackie made a face, her grip on Aiden’s arm slackening enough that he could pull it free. “But they can’t think for themselves. They’re not really alive. They’re man-made abominations.”

Kiru’s growl deepened, and he jumped off Aiden’s arm.

Aiden rubbed his wrist. “What’s your problem with Familiars, anyways?”

Jackie gave him a look that he couldn’t read, one hand twitching towards her leg. She glanced aside. “Humans were never meant to use magic,” she began, carefully. “According to the Old Stories, humans and dragons were created at the beginning of time as balancing forces: one to guard magic, and one to guard creation. They were meant to shape the world together. But they fought instead, leading to dragons’ extinction.”

“Didn’t peg you for the religious type.”

Jackie turned her stern look back to him. “And now we think we can use what remains of these creatures we drove to extinction for our own benefit? Like we didn’t cause the genocide of their species? How arrogant are we?”

Aiden’s throat went dry.

“Familiars should’ve never been created.” Jackie released a heavy breath, kneeling reluctantly and fiddling with her bag. “I need to—to fix my prosthetic,” she said quietly. “And then we’re going back.”

A vague sense of hopelessness washed over Aiden, a heaviness in his chest and a bitter taste in his mouth, his mind turning over Jackie’s words slowly. That’s not—that wasn’t our fault. Not the fault of anyone living now, anyways. And—if we didn’t have Familiars, magic would’ve just disappeared entirely, right? Another, more terrifying thought fled through his mind. ��If we’d never made Familiars, then I would’ve never met Kiru.

It wasn’t until then that it dawned on him that his Familiar was still missing. He whipped around, looking for some flash of blue. “Kiru? Kiru!”

The Familiar didn’t reappear.

Jackie didn’t seem to be paying attention, slowly detaching her prosthetic, her attention focused on her bag.

Aiden sidled down the alleyway. He couldn’t have gone too far, right? He has to be this way somewhere.

When he came to the mouth of the alley, he still didn’t see Kiru immediately. Then blue flashed in the crowd, weaving amongst the people.

“Hey,” Jackie called, “what are you doing?”

“Just need to get Kiru,” he answered, ignoring Jackie’s cries of protest as he hurried down the street.

The Familiar had some distance on him, and had always been faster, leaving Aiden struggling to catch up as he wove through the crowd. “Kiru!” he shouted, hoping the Familiar would listen and come back. He didn’t—whether because he didn’t hear or because he didn’t want to, Aiden wasn’t sure. Aiden picked up the pace, trying to weave his way through the crowd a little better, eyes firmly on the distant speck of blue.

Kiru slowed after a time, eyes turning to something up ahead.

Aiden took the chance to close the distance, lunging and catching the Familiar. “Got you!”

Kiru yelped, squirming, before seeming to realize who held him, tilting his head backwards.

Aiden quirked an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing?”

The Familiar huffed, then struggled free. Aiden let him, watching as Kiru moved to get a stick. The Familiar dragged it through the dirt, occasionally glancing back at something.

Aiden tilted his head, then moved closer. The shaky lines in the ground vaguely resembled letters: a squiggly ‘s,’ a lopsided ‘c’, something that vaguely resembled an ‘o.’ “What are you—why are you writing?”

Kiru dropped the stick with a huff, looking away.

“Kiru.”

The Familiar reluctantly returned, phasing into Aiden’s hands. Vague frustration wormed through Aiden like a faint flame, along with images of Jackie scowling at them, echoes of her words about Familiars ringing through the back of Aiden’s skull. He blinked several times. Because of Jackie? It doesn’t matter what she thinks. We know better.

Yeah, but— More images, this time of reports on Provenance’s Dragon.

Aiden’s eyebrows furrowed. I’m not sure I get what you’re trying to say.

Kiru huffed, the frustration bubbling briefly before it was roughly shoved down.

Kiru, come on.

The Familiar didn’t respond.

Aiden bit back a frustrated sigh. Be that way, then. He leaned forward, brushing his fingers through the dirt. What were you trying to write, anyways? You’re not normally all that interested in writing.

It wasn’t until that moment that he finally glanced upwards. He stiffened. White Water High School stood in front of him, quiet for the moment, students and teachers likely still inside.

Aiden scrambled to his feet and stumbled a few steps away. Something clenched tightly in his chest. Oh. His hands shook.

Kiru tuned back in briefly, faint curiosity and concern briefly bubbling underneath his frustration.

Aiden took a couple of measured steps forward, fingers locking around the chain link fence. He swallowed convulsively. What period is it? It’s not even noon yet. Second period? Third? I’d be in Math or History, then.

His fingers tightened, hard enough that faint pain radiated through them. Did any of them notice when I disappeared? Did they care? Did James and the others wonder if something happened because they didn’t show up? His throat felt too tight, his eyes hot. If they had—if they’d just come like they said they would—then I would’ve never been on River Road when Tyson was there, and I never would’ve been attacked. The school blurred. I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have gone. Stupid, stupid—of course they didn’t actually want to hang out with me, I’m just that crazy kid who talks to his Familiar, they were just humoring me, and now—hell, who’s going to want to be near me know? No one trusts a dragon.

“I should’ve just left you,” a voice spat, and for a moment Aiden thought he’d imagined it. He didn’t turn, waiting as Jackie stomped closer. “You can’t just run off.” She stopped, and several silent seconds passed. “Why did you come to a school?”

“I didn’t. Kiru did.” He took a shaky breath. “It’s my high school.”

Jackie didn’t respond. Several moments passed before she said, quieter, “We should go.”

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I know.” Reluctantly, he pried his fingers away from the fence.

“Hey!” someone shouted. “What are you two doing?”

Jackie and Aiden whipped towards the voice at the same moment. That was the first time Aiden noticed the police car parked in front of the building—and the officer coming their way.

Every thought seemed to screech to a halt. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe, his mind scrambling for purchase on the thoughts that kept sliding by, Kiru shouting warnings that weren’t made of words or images but sensations and emotions that said he needed to go, they needed to do something.

They’re here because of me, he realized, managing to catch hold of one of the floating thoughts. They’re here because I used Mach Five, and they need to find me, and now I’m right here in front of them—

The thought was enough to shake him out of his stupor. “Jackie,” he said, turning around.

But Jackie wasn’t there.

Aiden froze, suddenly uncertain of what to do, his mind screaming, She left me, I knew she didn’t like me, but she was supposed to be watching me, how could she just—

The frantic thoughts gave the police officer enough time to reach him. “Shouldn’t you be in class?” the officer asked. “And where’d your friend go?” The officer frowned, staring down the street, likely in the direction Jackie had gone.

Maybe he should chase her, Kiru thought. She’s clearly the dangerous one.

Aiden, mouth dry, heart hammering in his ears, couldn’t respond.

The officer glanced down at him, eyebrows furrowed.

Aiden tried to shift away. It’s fine, he thought. It’s fine. He doesn’t recognize me. I’m wearing a disguise. He doesn’t know.

But is it good enough? What if he sees right through it? What if, what if, what if—

“I’m home schooled,” he blurted, far too late.

The officer gave him a scrutinizing look. “Your parents just let you wander around during the day?”

“I-I don’t have a set schedule.”

The officer was still giving him that same look. Slowly, his attention turned to something lying on the ground.

Aiden’s gaze followed, and his heart leapt into his throat. The posters. He swiped them, trying to clutch them tightly to his chest.

The officer peeled one away.

“H-hey! Give that back.”

The officer’s expression turned unreadable.

Aiden held his breath, half-poised to run.

“What,” the officer asked carefully, “are you doing with this?”

“I-it’s for a project.”

“Is it, now.”

Aiden’s mind scrambled to find a response, but he couldn’t come up with something convincing, his brain screeching to a panicked halt.

“Kid, you know this is a dangerous criminal, right? I realize that the idea of turning into a dragon might be appealing, but you can’t just latch onto anyone who does that.”

Anger forced its way past Aiden’s reservations, and he snapped, “He’s not a criminal!”

The officer gave him a searching look.

“I-I mean, wasn’t—there’s more to the story. Probably. And everyone’s just—making assumptions.”

The officer watched him a long moment. “Maybe,” he said slowly, “but Mach Five is still illegal for a reason. We need to set an example, or else we’ll have chaos.” He gave the poster another careful look.

Aiden’s heart stuttered.

“Where are you even getting this information, anyways? The Chief’s the one who has the most information on the case, but I don’t think he ever released some of this.”

Whatever self-control Aiden had fled. He turned on his heel, sprinting away, barely hearing the startled shout of the officer over the rushing of his own blood. He hadn’t made it far when someone caught the back of his hood. He jerked, struggling, trying to free himself from the confines of his jacket. He’d just started to wiggle free when the officer caught his arm. The officer mouthed something, eyebrows furrowed, but Aiden couldn’t hear anything over the thundering of his heart.

He knows.

He struggled, trying to kick free.

He’s going to arrest me.

The officer reached for something in his pocket.

He knows he knows he knows he knows—

He reached, desperate, for Kiru’s familiar warmth, and the Familiar answered. Magic tugged free—

Keep hold of it. Guide it where it wants to go.

—and pulsed towards his chest, bubbling through in a burst. Blue flames streamed from underneath his shirt, billowing wildly beside his face.

The officer whipped back towards him, a startled expression crossing his face. Electricity was already crackling along his fingertips.

Don’t let him.

Aiden wasn’t sure whether the thought was his or Kiru’s, but he funneled the excess magic into his hand, firing his own burst of electricity, however weak and unfocused, at the officer.

The officer, on reflex, pulled away, releasing Aiden in the process and summoning a shield.

Aiden fell back, posters scattering across the ground. Whatever tenuous hold he’d had on the magic—Mach Stage?—fell apart, the flames disappearing and the strange, tingling, hot-cold feeling in his chest fading.

Move!

The voice was undoubtedly Kiru’s, the school and the street turning dark, shifting into a nighttime road beside the river, the officer morphing into the grisly form of Tyson, his own magic flaring unstably along his arms.

For a moment, Aiden had the inexplicable, overwhelming urge to lunge at him, a guttural voice inside him growling, This is your fault, you did this, you made me—

Aiden, run!

But he couldn’t win, he’d end up back in the river, ad this time he might not come back up for air—

He wasn’t sure where he was.

He fell, hands skidding across the sidewalk, pinpricks of blood bursting on his palms where they scraped the gravel. He took several shaky breaths.

It was daylight. Wasn’t it night a moment ago? Where was Tyson? Why wasn’t he on River Road? Wasn’t he just—

A car rushed by, and Aiden flinched away, scrambling into an alley. He shoved himself behind a dumpster, head bent beneath his knees, hands lifted to clutch the back of his head, breaths shuddering in his chest as his stomach rolled. Bile rose in his throat and filled his mouth. He held it in, breathing sharply through his nose, in and out, swallowing it again and trying not to take great, heaving gulps of air.

A voice that sounded eerily like his mother’s whispered, Breathe in slowly.

I can’t.

You can. Steady. With me.

Aiden tried to take a deep breath. It caught in his throat and rattled against the top of his ribcage.

Try it again.

He did, still shaky, still not deep. On a third attempt he managed to drag a decent amount of air into his lungs.

Hold it and count to five.

He scrunched his eyes closed and counted silently.

Now release, slowly. Count to five.

Aiden obeyed.

Repeat the process.

He followed the instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until he felt less light-headed and nauseous. He rested his head against his knees, sweat slick against his pant legs. Thanks.

Kiru said, That wasn’t me. His voice sounded oddly strained.

Oh. So I’m imaging it. Good. Great.

But then a voice—still familiar, but not the one he expected to hear—asked, “Steady?”

He lifted his head so quickly it spun.

Jackie crouched in front of him, hovering close by, like she wanted to approach but didn’t quite dare, an odd expression on her face.

What had happened slowly trickled back to Aiden, and whatever shock he felt, whatever gratitude—had she been the one to talk him out of his panic attack?—fled in the face of the anger that rose in his throat, bubbling out like fire. “You left.”

Jackie didn’t deny it, just stared at him with the same unreadable expression.

“Why?”

Jackie glanced aside.

The anger burned his throat, but it felt good, warm, because didn’t he deserve to be angry, after all this? It wasn’t even my fault! “Oh, what, were you hoping the cop would just take me? Was he one of your friends? Real nice of you, glad to know where your loyalties lie.”

“I didn’t want them to see me.”

Aiden laughed incredulously. “What? With a dragon?” He spat the word, the tears that sprung to his eyes as hot as the words in his throat. “Well, you know what? I guess that’s fair. No one else wanted to be seen around me, either, but hey, who’d want to spend time around the crazy kid who talks to his Familiar?” His fingernails dug into his scalp. “I guess it’s fine, everyone hates me, anyways, so what’s one more?”

Jackie turned back to him, expression twisting between discomfort and frustration. “The hell, kid, you did use Mach Five—”

“I didn’t ask to be a monster!”

The words echoed through the alley. Everything fell silent, save for Aiden’s ragged breathing. For a moment they stared at each other, Aiden trying desperately to control his breathing again, Jackie studying him with a wary expression.

Exhaustion swept through Aiden. His head drooped beneath its own weight, and he planted both hands on it, staring blankly at the ground.

Kiru sent waves of comfort, and Aiden allowed his own emotions to coil with it.

Jackie murmured, “We should head back.”

Aiden nodded, a quick, jerky motion that made his head spin. He got unsteadily to his feet. He reached for his hood before remembering he didn’t have his coat anymore, and instead opted for hunching his shoulders, trailing after Jackie as she moved out of the alleyway.

He wondered if anyone would recognize him. He almost didn’t care.

His legs felt like lead. He couldn’t quite get enough breath into his chest. The city passed in a haze, a not-quite-tense silence between the three of them. Aiden’s emotions ebbed into something more somber, and it left him feeling cold. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually.

Jackie didn’t react.

“Why—why did you come back?”

It took a few moments before she shrugged. “We still need you.”

Of course. The thought didn’t feel as bitter as it might have before. His mind wandered, touching briefly on something Kiru had mentioned after his panic attack, the thought briefly swamped by his own frustration. His eyes drifted to Jackie’s left leg. “Thank you. For talking me down from, uh—”

“It’s fine,” Jackie cut in, her voice carefully controlled.

Aiden nodded tightly. The tension between them still hadn’t eased; even if Jackie had been willing to help him, things still didn’t feel fine. I guess this is just the way things are, now. Is it going to stay like this forever?

He didn’t have an answer.

_______________________________________________________________

Tag List: @siarven, @focusdumbass, @paladin-andric, @onedayiwillfind, @muggle-writes, @geth-consensus, @roselinbooks--let me know if anyone wants to be added to/removed from the tag list!

#on my heart #writeblr #my writing #cut scenes #how much of this can i repurpose?#HMMM

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crackinglamb · 4 years ago

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001 for dragon age?

Did you really want an essay? Cuz you’re gonna get one. I’ll stick with DA:I, since that’s the only one I’ve actually played. I have passing familiarity with the other two games, but not enough for details. And as always, it got really long while I was writing it out, so under a cut it goes.

Favorite character: Probably obvious. But it’s Solas. Love him or hate him, no one can deny that he’s a complex, intricately written character with lots of facets we have yet to see all of. Plus, he has a delicious voice and I’ll own that kink, no one can shame me.

Least Favorite character: *sigh* Vivienne. I wanted to like her, I really did. She’s a powerful, ambitious woman in her own right, a successful mage, an adept at the Game. She has strong motivations of her own, even if they’re written with a bit of a cliche. But that’s also part of her problem. She’s willfully blind to the suffering of her peers. She’s bought into the propaganda of the Circle and the Chantry. She’s like a political centrist and I find that distasteful.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): Solas/Lavellan; Dorian/Iron Bull; Varric/Hawke; Krem/Maryden; and finally a headcannon one: Solas/Ghilan’nain. There are a wealth of layers to a relationship between them, and a bucketful of explanatory suppositions for why he is the way he is now.

Character I find most attractive: Do we really need to revisit the voice kink? Are you gonna make me spell it out? *snort* Of course it’s that damned Egg. No, I don’t sound too happy about it, do I?

Character I would marry: None of them. They are, every single one of them, a hot mess disaster that I would never tie my life to, even if marriage wasn’t a convenient religious construct.

Character I would be best friends with: Varric Tethras. That dwarf is bloody loyal to a fault and he deserves nice things and people who care about him just as much as he cares about everyone else.

A random thought: How did I get here? I wasn’t supposed to be here. I just wanted to write the aforementioned happy ever after for Varric. How did this happen?

An unpopular opinion: *nervous laugh* My bestie is gonna kill me, but...Cullen isn’t as changed as people tend to think he is. The overall arc of his ‘redemption’ falls flat imo. I mean, all we really get from him is recognition that he has an addiction, has seen some shit and his attempts to deal with those. He falls under ‘forgiveness doesn’t equal another chance’. For a man who has been through as much as he has, his worldview is still pretty narrow. Having been on the receiving end of someone like that irl, it simply doesn’t appeal in my fiction.

My Canon OTP: Hah! Solas/Lavellan. And not just because I’m writing about it to the exclusion of everything else right now. I think it’s also the most in-depth view of Solas as a character. His romance gets the most information about him by sheer numbers.

My Non-canon OTP: Varric/Hawke. Hands down. You cannot tell me that a man like Varric, over protective and loyal, would not lay down his life for Hawke and tap that ass while he was at it.

Most Badass Character: Leliana. That woman is terrifying and yet all I want to do is give her a hug and a mug of hot cocoa. She has the strengths of her convictions, the agility of her mind, she will fuck you up before you know what hit you and yet...she’s vulnerable under the surface. But she doesn’t allow that vulnerability to break her. Aside from a single instance, she never even lets anyone see it. She’s remade herself over and over. She probably could use a nap and a snuggle from her nugs.

Most Epic Villain: IMHO, DA:I doesn’t have a strong villain. It has a series of boss fights. The story isn’t finished, and the game is basically a placeholder in a franchise. It’s too soon to know whether or not Solas counts (I don’t think he does, though, and if he does, I will be extremely disappointed in the writing team).

Pairing I am not a fan of: Cassandra/Varric. I’ve yet to see it portrayed with proper application of enemies to lovers. The start of their relationship is frankly abusive. She holds him prisoner and repeatedly threatens his life in close quarters and she never makes amends for it in canon. Bad tempers that lead to interpersonal violence are not cute or romantic. I love Cass, I sincerely do. But I do not ever see that ship as doing anything more than sinking to the bottom of the Waking Sea.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Bianca Davri. There was so much hype. So much. And she was astoundingly underwhelming when we met her. Love is truly blind, because given the portrayal we got, I have no idea what the ever loving fuck Varric sees in her.

Favourite Friendship: Solas and Iron Bull. Now, this is assuming one saves the Chargers and Bull becomes Tal-Vashoth. They go from butting heads on every single blessed thing to playing mental chess to pass the time and prove several points to themselves and to us, the players. They learn so much from each other. I get the warm fuzzies. Runner up to this is Solas and Dorian. Two men who are frighteningly similar but can’t see it. Or won’t admit it, anyway. And again, they learn so much from each other.

Character I most identify with: Okay, it might be a cheap cop out, but the Inquisitor. I too am not getting paid enough to deal with the shit life throws at me while simultaneously being responsible for the well being of both myself and a person dependent on me. Granted, my little person isn’t all of Thedas, but I wouldn’t say that makes it any less important. And I too am canonically disabled by the end. It’s rough being a spoonie.

Character I wish I could be: Ack, I don’t think I’d want to be any of them. They all need therapy. Possible exception is Cole. I like to help, just as much as I like to be left to my own devices if no one needs me. Speaking in riddles? Unleashing a torrent of compassionate wrath and disappearing before anyone makes me bleed? Having a deeper connection to the world around me? Sure, I can get behind those. I’m a Gemini.

Thanks for the ask. You know I love it when you make me think.

#ask #fandom ask #dragon age

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