#the fandom grew a lot over the course of this volume and its great to see so many people so invested | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

drshojo · 5 years ago

Text

The World, My Childhood And My Hero Academia: Vigilantes

Hello friends!

Its Dr. Shojo coming at you with a post that will be divided into three parts!

Part One: The world as we know it!

The world has changed a lot since we last connected. For starters, TOILET BOUND HANAKO KUN HAS NOT ONLY A PHYSICAL RELEASE BUT A GORGEOUS ANIME! And not only that, but MY NEXT LIFE AS A VILLAINESS: ALL ROUTES LEAD TO DOOM! IS GETTING AN ANIME AS WELL! The last time I wrote about Katerina there wasn’t even an official English translation of that long-ass light-novel-title. And now?

A WHOLE ANIME. A BISEXUAL HAREM AWAITS! I am JAZZED!

Do you think it’s my fault? No matter, I’ll take all the credit. All the manga I talk about are getting anime adaptations. I’LL DO MY DUTY AND TALK ABOUT SOME MORE!

But first. Let us address the Covid-19 shaped elephant in the room

I deeply regret that it took a whole-ass pandemic to get me back to writing. In my defense, I bought an iPad and started drawing like 900 kokichi oumas. I was really busy with that. And then I started reading fanfiction. Then that got me thinking about how fanfiction such an interesting look into how people interpret fandom, use it for wish fulfillment and escapism, and good god is everyone OK cause that bulimia fan fic was super detailed....and I am officially on a tangent. Off track. Ahem.

We are all staying inside a whole lot more which means y’all probably need some reading material and Dr. Shojo has your back! Go read “Horimiya”! It’s amazing! Ahhhh, my work here is done! I'm serious, if you’re here for a Shojo rec, that’s it! There's also like 8 million more Otome Isekais to check out now. It’s like they’re multiplying like rabbits..............

As a Doctor, I must advise you to stay inside and read some manga and practice social distancing. Embrace your inner hikikomori.

Allright? All good? Okay now one final disclaimer:

This post is going to be talking about something a little different than usual and I want to start by giving you some context about who Dr. Shojo is in real life.

Part Two: Dr. Shojo Exposed

You see, when I was little I was obsessed with Japanese media. This doesn't surprise you at all I can tell. Probably because I walk around calling myself Dr. Shojo and shout about manga that you should read.

Anyways, the reason why I was obsessed wasn’t because of the big eyes or the spikey hair or the interesting new culture. It was because it tended to have more character development and overarching plotlines than the media I was used to in Canada. Dexter’s Lab, Magic School Bus, pretty much everything I saw on TV was episodic in nature, so imagine how much my mind was blown when I saw Naruto and Card Captor Sakura, heck, even Pokémon had the Indigo Plateau! Here were kids that were learning more and more each day and got to see enemies become friends and vice versa. They lived and grew older just like me. Except they were cooler than me. And had more interesting lives than me. I gotta tell you, I was so sad when I was 12 and Kero didn’t tell me I had latent magical powers. But there was magic in my life and it was the magic of a complex narrative story. And not only that, it had a sense of movement and had cool costumes. I was hooked immediately.

Also, fun fact, at that age I happened to be a complete and utter tomboy! I loved pretending to fight my friends in the playground and was really worried that puberty would ruin my life because being a girl sounded so CUMBERSOME.

Which leads me up to my confession. Before I became Dr. Shojo, I was in fact......Dr. Shonen.

Bleach? Naruto? One Piece? I've read every single chapter there is.

Hundreds of hours of watching fight sequences. Another fun fact, I only got into shojo because my aunt bought me volume 7 and 8 of Fruits Basket thinking “all mangas like the same right? Kids love comics?” It’s a tribute to how episodic western media was back then that she thought buying volume SEVEN and EIGHT was a REASONABLE PLACE TO START READING.

Now you might also say, Hey! Dr Shojo! Cardcaptors was a shojo! And you are right! but back then the anime was marketed to boys over here in the west and they actualy like, edited out episodes that they thought wouldn't interest boys?! Second fun fact, Once when I was in Grade 3 I was told I was not allowed to join a club under the stairs cause I was a girl and it was BOYS ONLY. The point of the club? To talk about how great Cardcaptors was! I Kid you not!

So anyways, your pall Dr. Shojo loves Shonen manga to this day!

The only reason I made this Dr. Shojo blog specifically about shojo is because, being a tomboy with no female friends, reading shojo manga was the first time I really thought about what it meant to be a girl and fall in love. And y i k e s. Shojo manga, like most media, fails miserably most of the time in displaying real world relationships. Or at least, it doesn't prepare you for how disappointing everything can be. When I had my first kiss, I was thinking about how it didn’t feel at all like how I felt reading Zen and Shirayukis kiss in Akagame No Shirayuki Hime. Those were formative years, and shojo was one of the only places I saw romance being talked about for younger audiences. I liked reading romances where no one had any sexual experiences and were figuring out what love meant to them. But let’s shelve this topic for now.

The point is that gender roles are dumb and if you have an open mind there's a world of stories out there for you. Take this time inside to read something you wouldn’t normally. Critically think about the ways that the worlds you see in stories and how you experience the world differ. What are the messages a story is trying to tell you? And why do you like the stories you do? Reflect on how the stories you tell yourself color your view of the world. Even mindless entertainment leaves an impression on us. Anyways.

Whilst you're doing that, I'm going to absolutely lose my hecking mind over the Shonen Jump series MY HERO ACADEMIA: Vigilantes!

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!

Part Three: I downloaded the one month free trial of the Shonen Jump app and made you read all that, so I can tell you that today Dr. Shojo is going to rant about a spin-off of a shonen manga

THAT’S RIGHT, OF COURSE I READ HERO ACA AND YES I DID PICK UP THE SPIN OFF SERIES. SHONEN JUMP LETS YOU READ ALL THE NEW CHAPTERS FOR FREE ON THEIR APP. KIDS, IF YOU LIKE SHONEN AND YOU’RE PIRATING ON A SCANLATION SITE STILL GET OUT BECAUSE YOU DON’T NEED TO SEE THOSE WEIRD PLASTIC SURGERY AND DENTISTRY ADDS ANY MORE.

SHONEN IS HERE AND ITS LEGAL AND ITS FREE FOR YOU. GET OFF MANGA FOX OR MANGA ROCK OR WHATEVER THE KIDS ARE USING THESE DAYS.

OK, so by this point in the article you have learned two very important things about me: 1) I love Shonen manga and 2) I read a lot of fanfiction.

Specifically, I read an absolutely biblical amount of My Hero Academia fan fiction and let me tell you, A solid chunk of it is vigilante/ Deadpool / criminal with a heart of gold themed.

So when I saw Hero Aca had a spin off, and it was about vigilantes, I was NOT SURPRISED IN THE SLIGHTEST. Ao3 sure is powerful.

Now, if you will permit me a tangent in a post full of tangents—HOLY CRAP, THERE ARE TOO MANY VIGILANTE AUS. I CAN'T KEEP TRACK OF EM. IT’S THE ISEKAI PROBLEM ALL OVER AGAIN. I GET AN EMAIL A FIC HAS UPDATED AND I’M LIKE IS THIS THE FIC WHERE DEKU HAS AN ABUSIVE MOM OR THE ONE WHERE HE HAS SPLIT PERSONALITY DISORDER OR THE ONE WHERE HE’S VIGILANTES WITH HITOSHI. OH WAIT, nvm, it’s the one where deku has a healing quirk.

OH WAIT WHICH OF THE 6 DEKU WITH HEALING QUIRK VIGILATE AU FICS IS THIS ONE?! ARGH WHY DIDN’T I WRITE A DESCRIPTION IN THE BOOKMARK FOR THIS!

My gripes aside, there's a reason why there's such an abundance of vigilante story telling—

Deadpool made like an absolute buttload of money and people love sass and memes.

People have a desire for a story in which they see themselves. Or, how they think of themselves.They like a story about someone who maybe came from nothing. Someone who has less money, maybe someone who is unlucky and had some bad breaks. Someone who never learned they had magic, never got their Hogwarts letter, never saw Kero, someone who never got that God-level quirk from All Might. And if your on Ao3 They want someone who also has seen a lot of memes and kind of wants taco bell and is also questioning their sexuality a bit?

Enter our new hero VIGILANTE DEKU.

But the cannon can't do this, cause hey, Deku is the chosen one. Albeit, chosen by All Might, He’s got his own thing to do. But how can we still cash in on a vigilante story?

And thus enter our New-New hero KOICHI HAIMAWARI—code name Nice Guy and then later The Crawler. True to his relatable roots. He’s just a dude in an hoodie who can go about as fast as a bike.

First off, I love Koichi. He wants to be a hero and fight crime, but most of the time he has to run away because at the end of the day he's just a dude.

He’s cute but not wildly good-looking, A bit of a nerd but not like an extreme okaku. He’s got a part time job and hates violence.

And this is where Koichi really shines—in every day stuff. He helps out wherever he can. Often, that just means listening to people complain and maybe helping his friends out with whatever they’re going through. He’s the kind of guy who smiles, not because he's especially brave, but because he just takes things one at a time and doesn't sweat the past. I think it’s really telling that he missed getting into hero high-school because he skipped the entrance exam to help someone. He’s the kind of person who lets us experience the superpower of human decency and empathy. And you know what? That’s something the world need desperately.

This theme of human decency is really the driving force of Vigilantes—it’s a manga about how the laws are there for a reason but sometimes they unfairly impact the poor and vulnerable. It's about how a lot of criminals are just people who fell into bad social circles or on bad times. People have the capacity for cruelty and violence but that’s never all they are.

Now, speaking of crime, the entirety of Hero Aca falls into some murky water when it comes to its evil doers. Much of the fandom has a huuuuuge problem with how much the franchise is willing to sweep under the rug in the name of redeeming their baddies. RE: people getting mad about forgiving Endeavor’s child abuse, or Bakugo’s suicide baiting. Or Mineta’s blatant sexual harassment.

But this theme is in Vigilantes even more than it ever was in the main series. To start off with, there’s this guy who tries to rape Pop Step early on, and the later he later winds up befriending everybody. It becomes a running gag that each new villain winds up befriending the other villain guys and then they all open a cat café together.

Using jobs as a way to lift people out of lives of crime is great and all but in the story there is no nuance or consequences for past wrong and well.....it feels very weird. It's like Vigilantes plays at having an opinion about moral ambiguity and the complexity of human existence and then just.......lets everyone get along because who has time to get into all that. Make of that what you will but it sits weird for me personally.

Anyway, let's move on and talk about POP STEP our main girl!

I love pop stars and I love vigilantes and a guerrilla performer is defiantly a character I could get behind. And I think they do a good job with Pop. She is actually kind of shy, but has this secret edgy persona she puts on when she performs. She is every girl on tumbler in the early 2000s. I also looooove that they make her not that great a singer. SHE’S GOT PASSION AND CHARISMA and maybe not born talent but like why should that stop you! Talent can be earned through practice and this is a great lesson to show people.

Unfortunately, Pop is also a great example of everything wrong with romance in Shonen.

It’s established early on that Pop loves Koichi because she is the girl he rescued all those years ago and yada yada yikes we’ve heard this one before. Many times before.

Sure, it's fine that they’ve met before, but gosh am I sick of damsels in distress. It's like she can't love him just because she respects what a great guy he is in her life and in the community at large, no no, she just needs to be rescued on top of that. And LOLOLOL isn't it funny he never noticed she was a girl because she was a child with short hair?! Once he realizes she has boobs now they will for sure fall in love! That’s how love works!

She's just with him all the time—nothing romantic ever happens she just gets a little tsundere.

I am never ever going to believe Koichi likes Pop because he spends like sooooo much time with her and they never have like, a moment. The first time he considers her is when Makoto is like, ‘hey I would love to get together with you, but have you thought about if you are crushing on Pop’. (Also this entire plot point is suspect—she's arbitrarily falling for Koichi cause he.......is the protagonist?)

Say what you will about shojo, they give you the emotional conversations, the moments where you think.....ahhh I can see why she is falling for him. They give you context! Shonen likes to just say HERE’S A GIRL YOUR AGE. YOU CAN DATE LATER WHEN THE ADVENTURE IS DONE.

Just when they might get together, Pop suddenly turns evilllllll. The evilllll beeeees made her eeeevilllll (and more sexy).

*Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh*

Because why on earth would they get together if Koichi didn’t get to rescue Pop one more time?

I’m tired. These troupes are tired. I’m sure you are too. HOWEVER! If your still with me, Let’s move into why I'm really writing this post. Let’s get to the part that got me screaming to my friends, who by the way, don’t even care bout Hero Aca….but listened anyways. May you all find nakama like these my friends.

Anyways,

HOLY FUCK ERASERHEAD’S ENTIRE BACK STORY IS IN THIS AROUND CHAPTER 60 AND IT IS WONDERFUL AND ABSOLUTLY HEARTBREAKING AND IS ONE OF THE BEST CHARACTER BACKSTORIES I HAVE EVER SEEN AND IS THE REASON WHY THIS SERIES IS A MUST-READ FOR MAIN SERIES FANS.

AND BY ALMIGHT.

WHY. IS. IT HERE.

I present to you my late night text messages to my friends

ALSO, AIZAWAS TEACHER IS PRINCE?!?!?!

AHEM, so as you can see, I kinda lost my shit.

And now, I would like to formally defend my claim that DESPITE HOW AMAZING IT WAS, ERASERHEAD’S BACKSTORY HAD NO BUISSNESS BEING IN THE VIGILANTES SPIN-OFF MANGA.

Eraserhead, aka Aizawa Shouta, is a side character who is working with the police on some crime stuff. He is not a main cast member in this spin off. He’s a guest character that fans of the main series will be like OH COOL. GRUMPY CAT MAN LIKES CATS ON HIS OFF HOURS TOO. LOVE THAT FOR HIM.

So, my imagine my absolute surprise when Aizawa runs into Koichi and the following happens:

It starts to rain, so, like in any good manga, this means some great FORCED BONDING TIME

Except no. It doesn't because rather than start talking, Aizawa JUST STARTS REMEMBERING—ABSOLUTLY SILENTLY TO HIS OWN PRIVETE SELF—HIS ENTIRE TRAGIC BACKSTORY.

AND THIS GOES ON FOR CHAPTERS.

THIS GOES ON LONGER THEN ARC ONE IT FEELS LIKE.

I LOVE IT, BUT KOICHI IS ABOUT TO JOIN ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA IN THE DUBIOUS CATEGORY OF “PROTAGONISTS THE SERIES FORGOT ABOUT IN LIEU OF COOLER SIDE CHARACTERS”.

AND LO IT HAS NO BEARING ON THE REST OF THE PLOT, CHARACTERS, OR STORY

What the ever-loving-just WHY?

WHY?

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?

SURE, IT’S A COOL TIE-IN.

YES, OF COURSE I LOVED IT. I SHIP ERASER MIC, I DREW THIS FOR HECK’S SAKE:

AND YET I AM ANGRY.

I AM ANGRY BECAUSE MY FRIDAY WAS RUINED BECAUSE VIGILATES SUCKER PUNCHED ME WITH AN AMAZING STORY THAT REALLY WASN’T PLOT RELEVANT AND PROBABLY SHOULDN’T HAVE BEEN THERE.

IS THIS WHY THEY TOOK LIKE NEXT-TO-NO CARE WITH POPS ARC?!?

I mean its ongoing, so it’s too early to say but—

In conclusion—

Excuse me one more,

AIZAWA WAS TAUGHT BY PRINCE!?!??!?!?!?!? PURPLE RAIN PRINCE!?!??!?!?!? WHAT!??!?!?!

It’s so ABSURD that I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING ABOUT IT. I HAD TO WRITE PARAGRAPHS TO JUSTIFY YELLING ABOUT THIS ONE THING. WHAT THE ABSOLUTE—

Ahem,

Anyways, I hope you liked this weird rant/personal-story/random-diatribe in three parts.

If you’re reading this, thank you, stay safe, and I’ll be back with more shojo manga next time.

Ciao!

Dr. Shojo

(aka Dr. Shonen)

#my hero academia vigilantes #koichi haimawari #pop step #my hero academia #erasermic #Cardcaptors #Shojo manga #Shonen Manga #Dr Shojo #read Horimiya

76 notes · View notes

spidercakes · 5 years ago

Note

Tony stark is a well known mob boss and he meets and falls in love with Baker! Peter parker

Oh, I love the trend of mob boss!Tony and baker!Peter in this fandom :)

Peter fiddles with his apron nervously, unsure of himself as Tony takes a bite of one of the cannolis that he made. Its not really that he doubts his skill as a baker, he knows he’s good at it actually, its just that Tony is Italian so he has more of an expertise in Italian food. Which Peter knows because Tony has told him. Also, apparently he sucks at cooking and despite being his grandfather’s favorite he was routinely called a disappointment over his lack of skills in the kitchen. Apparently that was the only time he was ever insulted by his grandfather, which seemed to be a rare thing because the man was supposedly difficult to please, but still.

He lets out a breath of air that he hadn’t known he’d been holding when Tony all but shoves the rest of it into his mouth. “That’s fucking good,” he says around the food and Peter smiles.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he asks and Tony snorts.

“When have you known me to lie?” he asks and right, good point. Tony is a pretty blunt person, sometimes a little too blunt for his own good.

“Okay, good point,” he says as Tony eats another cannoli. Well, the good news is that his cannolis don’t taste like ass according to at least one actual Italian.

“You have any more of these?” Tony asks, gesturing to the now empty plate.

Peter smiles, “I might have some more in the back,” he says. “Just for you,” he adds, a little unsure of himself but Tony looks enthusiastic about it or maybe he just wants the pastries…

“Earth to Peter,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow and Peter snaps to because right, the cannolis. He lets out a nervous laugh and disappears into the back to grab the rest of the pastries, stuffing them all into a box and bringing them back out.

“Um. Here,” he says, a little flustered and he really shouldn’t be by now. He’s used to how attractive Tony is but he always feels a little caught off guard with it. Especially when he smiles like he does now.

“What do I owe you?” he asks and Peter shakes his head.

“Oh, those were a test recipe so nothing. I was going to probably give them to my roommate if you didn’t like them anyway.” Ned’s a bit of a human dumpster and frankly so is MJ. If Tony didn’t like them one of the two of them probably would have eaten them on account of they’re food and they both like food in any form.

“You saying you made them just for me?” Tony asks and Peter can’t tell if its flirtatious or just part of Tony’s overly large personality.

“I mean. Kind of. I wanted an opinion from someone who’s actually Italian,” he says. Or at least the kind of Italian that grew up with the cuisine, unlike most of the Italians he happens to know.

“And here I thought it was because you liked me,” Tony says, pouting.

Peter laughs, “well, and also that. I could have asked that little Italian grandmother but I think she would have cussed me out in Italian,” he says.

Tony lets out a sharp laugh, “oh, you only think that because you don’t know what she’s saying half the time. Trust me, she wouldn’t curse you out she just looks grumpy all the time,” he says.

“Wait, what does she say?” he asks, ignoring how amused Tony looks because he has a need to know.

“All flattering things, I promise,” Tony tells him, dark eyes glittering.

“Aw come on, Mr. Stark tell me what she says!” He leans forward with interest and for a moment he swears he sees a bit of lust on Tony’s features but it disappears too fast for him to properly identify it.

For a moment he thinks Tony might tell him but instead he gives Peter a quick once over. “You have plans for tonight?” he asks.

The sharp change in subject confuses Peter for a moment but he shakes his head. “No, not really. I mean, probably petting my cat and refusing to make baked goods for Ned. He knows I make them all day and if he wants a pie at 3 am he can make his own pie.”

Tony laughs a little, grinning. “Great. How about dinner with me?” he asks and for a moment Peter is thrown because why would Tony want to go to dinner with him? Tony’s a bit, well a lot, out of his league.

“Uh, yeah, okay, sure. Sounds good,” he sputters out, unsure how to handle this and wait, did he seriously just agree to go out with someone who asked him out at work? And how’d Tony make that not skeevy?

Peter really doesn’t know how he gets himself into these types of situations but god he so doesn’t regret it. Tony pets up and down his sides and yeah, they’re in a restraint but they’re in a private room so its not like Peter has to worry about much, or at least that’s what he tells himself as he leans in and kisses Tony.

“So pretty for me,” Tony murmurs and Peter shivers at the praise.

“I barely changed out of my work clothes,” he says. Like Tony isn’t dressed so much better than him in that delicious suit of his.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony tells him, “you’d look good not matter what you wore. Besides, pretty little thing like you in my lap, I figure I should count my blessings,” he murmurs as he leans in and kisses him again.

Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, pressing himself into him as Tony’s hands find their way to his hips. This is ridiculous, totally ridiculous Peter thinks, sitting in some guy’s lap in a restaurant and making out with him. But then Tony could probably talk him into just about anything and he’d go along with it. When he finally pulls away Tony gives him a lightly disapproving look and Peter rolls his eyes at him. “Don’t give me that look, you don’t know what I’ve got planned,” he says and it piques Tony’s interest enough for him to pay attention. “Please tell me you have a house with a bed,” he says and Tony laughs.

“Of course I do, baby. What do you-” he’d continue but someone walks in and Peter jumps, letting out a small squeak of embarrassment as he turns around. He finds an irritated red head glaring at Tony in particular, hands on her hips.

“Tony Stark, stop trying to bang the baker in a restaurant and answer your damn phone. We’ve got business to deal with,” she tells him.

“Business can wait until tomorrow,” he tells her, hands on Peter’s hips tightening.

“Um,” Peter says, unsure what to do here.

Tony pets his side softly, “don’t worry about her, sweetheart she’s just my assistant,” he murmurs.

“Oh you are pushing your luck,” the red head tells him.

Tony doesn’t look worried and Peter thinks maybe he should. “Tomorrow, Pep. And don’t bother me before noon,” he says.

The red head glares at him for a few more moments before she rolls her eyes. “Don’t bitch when this blows up in your face,” she tells him but she leaves them alone. Peter sags a little in relief and Tony laughs.

“What baby, shy all of the sudden?” he asks. Yeah, Tony has no shame and Peter feels like maybe he should have a little shame.

When Peter wakes up in the morning Tony is gone but he left a note telling him to find him in his office. He also finds several missed calls on his phone from Ned so he calls him back, figuring he should let him know that he’s not dead or anything. Ned answers right away and lets out a relieved sigh, “Peter what the fuck,” he says in place of a greeting.

Peter grins, “sorry I didn’t call, I um. Went on a date and it went well,” he says, letting Ned draw his own conclusions.

Ned snickers into the phone, “oh, with anyone I know?” he jokes.

“Not unless you know a Tony Stark,” he says, not anticipating Ned choking into the receiver.

“You went on a date with who?” he asks and Peter frowns.

“Um. Tony Stark? Is that relevant?”

“Relevant? Oh my god, oh my- MJ! You gotta come hear this shit!” he yells, phone obviously away from his face because he sounds a bit far away despite the increased volume of voice.

“What?” he hears MJ mumble in the background.

“Tell her who you just slept with,” Ned says.

Peter rolls his eyes, “Tony Stark and I don’t know why you think that means something to you,” he says.

MJ starts laughing and Ned lets out a long sigh. “Bro, you totally just fucked New York’s most feared mob boss and your stupid ass didn’t even know because I guess you never watch or read the god damn news.”

“There is no way that’s true,” Peter says. He reads the news. Sometimes. Its been awhile but he’s been busy starting a small business, he has to get up early to bake and stuff and has it really been that long since he’s read a news article?

“Holy shit, only Peter,” MJ says. “I will give you this, he’s at least hot.” He decides now is a good time to hang up and get out of bed. He scoops Tony’s discarded shirt off the floor and throws it on before he carefully walks over to the door and cautiously sticks his head out of it, looking down the hallway.

“Office is down the hall to the left,” someone tells him and Peter lets out a surprised squeak. He turns and finds a tall pudgy guy standing by the door in the opposite direction he first looked in. “Relax, this so isn’t the most compromising position I’ve found Tony in. Technically he’s not even here, which is a real treat all things considered. I’m Happy, I already know you’re Peter, and boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting so go on, get out of here,” he says.

Peter has no fucking clue what to make of any of that so he decides to just follow instructions and scampers his way down the hall and to the left, finding the office easy enough after that. He can hear Tony talking in it and the door is open so there’s that. He considers maybe making a run for it but Tony spots him and smiles and oh, right, that’s how Peter ended up here.

“Peter, hey baby. Come here,” Tony says and Peter’s stupid body betrays him and walks over, perching in his lap without a second thought. “How’d you sleep,” he murmurs, kissing the space underneath his jaw.

Peter huffs, “well, fine technically. Ned called like seven million times but I called him back so he knows I’m not dead and apparently you’re a mob boss?” he asks more than states. Tony looks confused but not more than the red head Peter had seen yesterday.

“Your teeny bopper baker doesn’t even know who you are?” she asks, throwing up her hands. “I quit! I’ve had enough of this, I can go work for some rich CEO who is a lot less troublesome than you!” she says, walking out.

“He’s twenty five!” Tony calls after her. “Teeny bopper my ass,” he mumbles.

Peter sits there, unsure what the hell just happened and not quite awake enough to process it. “Um. Sorry your assistant quit on you,” he says but Tony laughs.

“Nah, she’ll be back. She’s put up with worse and she used to work for Justin Hammer, there’s no way she’s willing to do that twice,” he says. “Did you really not recognize me?” Peter shakes his head. “Wow, that’s a first in… well, a long time. No wonder you weren’t scared of me when I walked in. I assumed you were brave.”

“No, apparently just a dumb bitch who doesn’t read the news,” he says. “I’ve been busy with the bakery so like. In my defense I feel like I have a good excuse.”

Tony considers him for a moment, hand settled on his thigh and Peter knows he should just run off, get out of dodge while he can but he stays put. “You okay with this, then?” he asks, eyebrow raising.

Not really, but instead of saying that he says, “well I can’t unfuck you so I guess so.”

Thankfully Tony laughs at that. “Good. Because if you want I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life,” he murmurs. Peter feels like he should be put off by that but he knows Tony, he knows people who work with Tony- apparently underlings or minions of whatever the hell the mob calls them- and they all seem to like him too.

And Peter’s always wanted to be taken care of. “Okay,” he says, sure that whatever he’s just signed on for he won’t regret it.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

136 notes · View notes

leggomylino · 5 years ago

Text

Dark Rising☽✮☾Act Two

☽✮☾ Dark Rising Masterlist ☽✮☾

Genre: Horror/Thriller, Drama, Romance, Comedy

Pairing: NCT’s Johnny Suh x fem!reader (x ???)

Word count: 9.3k (we’re covering a lot of ground in this one! :D)

Warning(s): mentions of blood, yandere-esqe themes, cuts/injuries, soul stealing and kidnapping. Possibly more in the future depending on what the original authors decide. They write for ot9 and so do I.

A/N: Main Masterlist in BIO! | This is a spinoff series to the SKZ fanfiction Twisted Karnival, by @gaiyofanfiction. It can be read alone, but you are encouraged to read the original story first. At the authors’ request, I will take this down if asked to do so. I do not own Twisted Karnival or Stray Kids, or Johnny Suh, or any characters used in this. All credit goes where credit is due. The events that happen in this story are not canon in the original story, this is simply a work of fandom and appreciation, and thus will tie into canon events as closely as possible in respect to the original works. All that being said… Thank you. <3

~ ☽✮☾ ~

It was two in the afternoon. After complaining to Johnny that there was no way you were staying overnight in some spooky, definitely-haunted, no-fun funhouse little-shop-of-horrors, he ended up grumbling about how useless you were already proving to be and walking you all the way home. You, useless! When he was the one that came to you for help!! The nerve of that guy!!!

“I have an order for...y/n?” a waiter asked, stopping just at the corner of your table. You smiled gleefully while bobbing your head, smacking the already dish-packed tablespace, pastry crumbs and croissant flakes flitting about the area. “Yeah! Set ‘er right here, please!”

“Hn.” Johnny scoffed, watching disdainfully as you shoveled a double order of German chocolate cake down your throat and washed it down with a caramel milkshake. “Do you ever stop eating? I swear you’ve inhaled the entire dessert menu in less than an hour.”

You kept onto that milkshake until the last drop was gone, eyes peering up boldly to meet his. “...I thought you didn’t swear,” you asked, setting the glass down and going for the cherry that awaited you in its cream-stained contents. C’mere, you! <3

Johnny looked away, albeit for just a moment. He began crunching commands into his phone. “I don’t, but—”

“Then buttout.”

He gave an annoyed sigh. Outside the Urban Grind Cafe, life went on as normal, despite the fact that hundreds of people had gone missing just last night. Whispers filled the streets and alleyways, about sons and daughters who never came home, mothers and fathers and aunts and uncles that never called, never left a message of any possible sudden work meetings or last-minute plans; but no one had the gall to actually say anything out loud. It was as if they were afraid to, defaulting to cling onto false hope: Oh, it’s okay. They probably stayed out so late they decided to crash at a nearby inn. Maybe there was an all-nighter event. ...Who, so-and-so? (S)he’s a party animal, probably went to (friend name)’s house.

“...ou listening to me? Hello? Johnny?”

You’d pushed yourself up to wave the blank cherry stem in his face, lightly poking his nose with it. Johnny flinched a bit, swatting your hand away while you chuckled and fell back into your booth seat.

He groaned. “Y’know, most guys don’t care much for girls that--”

“What? Eat a lot? Talk back? Interrupt your call to the Mothership?”

“...Yes. All of those.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Bite me.” ...Then you had to smirk, pausing a moment as you crossed a spoonful of pudding from bowl to blissful heaven. “...Are you by chance trying to say that--”

“No. Definitely not.” He gave you a serious glare that stopped any giggling rising in your throat. “Enough chit-chat. You can keep stuffing your face if you want, but I need you to listen to me.”

You wanted to throw your spoon at him, but the risk was greater than the reward of seeing him with vanilla pudding all over his face and a black eye. So instead you grunted, shoveling another spoonful of whip cream. “Yeah, alright, I’m listening. But I still have questions for you too. Like, how come—”

“Please don’t talk with your mouth full. No one wants to see that.”

“...”

Now you really were going to throw that spoon. Or you would have, if the same waiter from before hadn't shown up with a helping of creme brulee. Yum! 😍

“......” Johnny folded his hands before his face, leaning in with elbows on the table. “...I’ll start from the beginning. As I told you before, I’m—”

“An angel, yes, I know.”

“...Right. And it’s my mission, along with the other messengers, to combat the evils of this world and defend mankind. However, we can’t always act alone, because we’re not allowed to corrupt freewill...and that’s where matters can get really complicated.”

You continued inhaling creme brulee, eyes flitting back and forth between Johnny and the dessert before you.

“A long time ago...a long time ago, there was a period of peace on this earth. It didn’t last long, but time flows differently in the realm above this one.” He steadily exhaled, and abruptly his face scrunched up in distaste, seeming to decide on something. “...I lied, this is going to take too long, and you don’t need to know everything; at least, not yet. All you need to know is that there was a short period of prosperity, and then...something serious happened, and one of our own was cast out to be…”

He cleared his throat. You paused again, setting your spoon down to listen more intently.

“...She was…” He swallowed. “...She was sent down to earth. But only because of the sacrifice that many of us made on her behalf.”

Your head tilted, drawing a blank. “...Sacrifice?”

“Yes. She was tricked by demons and did some things she shouldn’t have. Her punishment was to be cast out to the other side, but many of the others stood up for her and offered to take her punishment in her stead.”

“Wow...she must have been a true saint.”

The look in Johnny’s eyes was soft and distant. “...She was. She was beautiful, and had the purest heart imaginable. But she failed to guard that heart, and she was deceived into a great sin.”

“So...sort of like, Eve and the Tree of Knowledge?”

He nodded. “In a sense, that’s an accurate comparison. It’s not the same per say, but loosely speaking, yes. That day…” ...His voice grew quiet. “That day, everything changed. The sky grew dark, and everything sort of lost its color, if not just for a single moment. There was a cackle of laughter that echoed from down below, but we could all feel it, with our own intuition. We knew she was gone.” A painful sadness filled his eyes. “And there was nothing we could do. There was nothing...I could do…”

“But...wait,” you said. “I thought you said you all made a great sacrifice for her? And then something about her being on earth?”

He rested his arms down on the table. “We did, and there was. After many trials and God’s grace, she was still stripped of her wings, but rather than being sent to the underworld, she was reborn a human.”

“...That’s...a punishment?”

Johnny scowled. “Think about it. Use that big head of yours.”

“Hey! ...Urk, well, okay…” You frowned, steadily losing your appetite as you shuffled the remaining three bites of creme brulee around. “I guess that makes sense. Life does kinda suck from time to time, and heaven is supposed to be pure bliss.”

“It is,” Johnny assured, the corners of his mouth raising just slightly. “It’s wonderful. And life on earth is no picnic, but it’s much better than an eternity below. Trust me.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I get it…” Paused again. “...Hey, so, what was her name? Can you tell me?”

“Yeah…” He of course, paused for effect. The suspense was practically suffocating, the way his features seemed to sharpen, the hollow silence that filled the small space around the booth the two of you shared.

What if...What if it’s… —Am I…? Could I be—

“Her name is Evangeline.”

...Oof. You mentally shunned yourself for being so conceited as to have thought it could possibly have been you. But then...

An image of a girl with silky smooth hair and bright, passionate eyes filled a blank space in the center of your mind. Quickly, you swallowed down your most recent mouthful you’d forced in too soon, coughing a minute before leaning over a tower of empty dishes, a cup of tea nearly spilling over given how hard you slammed the table. “That...That girl from before.” There’s anxiety rising in your chest, though you’re not sure why. “Was it her?”

Johnny’s eyes widened in slight surprise, almost seeming to have trouble focusing on your own. “Yeah. Good guess.”

Not really. Somehow, you just...knew.

“Whoa...so then…” You slowly descended back into your seat...then jumped back up with more fervor than before, startling a few nearby customers. This time, you did end up spilling that cup of tea. “Those demons have her! They have your one true love! We have to save her!!”

“Uuuu—“ Johnny was leaning back, glaring at you again with even wider eyes. “Whoa, okay, I never said we were in love. And if you can find it in that pea-sized brain of yours to settle and keep your voice down, I’ll agree that you’re right and it is a main aspect of the mission.”

“Wha?!” You did glue your bum to your seat, but as for lowering your voice? Quite the opposite. “Just a second ago you were saying I have a big head, and now I have a small brain?!”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Isn’t that how it always goes with brazen girls?”

“Brazen?!” You rolled up your sleeves. “Oh, I’ll show you brazen—!”

“E-Excuse me…” Your waiter had partially hidden himself behind an empty tray he was holding. “I’m sorry but, I’ve been getting a few complaints about the volume of noise over here and um...we don’t allow violence in our cafe. If you don’t calm down, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Oop— well, it certainly wasn’t your fault!

“Tell that to him!” You roared, pointing an accusatory finger at...no one.

Johnny was gone, a closing door and the faint scent of aftershave the only trace that he’d ever been.

Something heavy and full of numbers was set down timidly beside you. It carried a hefty burden on your nearly-empty coin purse, causing it (and any excitement you’d had left) to shrivel up and die.

“Your bill, miss. You can pay at the register over there.”

…………

The wails of a heartbroken young woman filled the chattering silence.

~ ☽✮☾ ~

“I can’t believe you just LEFT me!! What kind of a gentleman does that?! Huh?!?”

The two of you were wandering the back alleys of town, taking some sort of shortcut somewhere, you had to assume. All you knew was that you were lucky you had a decent sense of direction when it came to navigating the city and not many people were incredibly tall and wore an old trench coat in the middle of Spring.

Johnny glanced back at you from over his shoulder, at the angry expression on your face where puffs of animated smoke arose, and your hands rubbed raw from having to wash dishes. He smirked. “I never said I was a gentleman.”

You faltered, feeling like a ton of bricks had fallen on your head.

AAARGH! You seriously wanted to pound him into a poundcake for this! You’d only know him for like, what, a day? Maybe two? And he was already unbearable to be with! Did you seriously have to work with this guy…?

“You were supposed to treat me! That was your apology for scaring me half to death and getting me involved in all this! Y’know, a real man would have— oof!”

You bumped right into his frozen backside. After quickly retreating two steps and rubbing your nose, you placed aggravated hands on your hips like some sassy middle school student.

“Oh, what is it now?! Wait, don’t tell me…” You turned one palm to gesture upward. “There’s a demon! Oh NOOOO, what will we— mmph!”

Johnny secured one hand over your mouth, the other balled and ready for action. His voice was tight and laced with concern. “Be quiet, and start walking back, slowly. Get to a populated area as soon as possible. Don’t make a sound you can help, understand?”

What-

“I just don’t understand,” a gruff voice said. “I’m always careful about counting tickets. Jeongin and I sealed the chamber after everyone was accounted for. I know.”

“Well obviously, you miscounted this time.” a second said. The hairs on your neck were beginning to stand. “It’s fine, it’s just one human. That’s nothing compared to the hull we got this time; and anyway, it’s not like they were special or anything. You were probably too distracted by my new sub— I mean, our new plaything, to be paying very good attention.”

The first voice let out an ominous growl.

They were talking about you; you didn’t need the proof of seeing them with your own eyes. Seeing wasn’t always believing. Their voices alone dripped with malice lying secret beneath succulent temptation, the most dangerous of siren songs.

A song...didn’t Johnny mention something about that before?

...Hey, wait a sec. Did those guys just say you weren’t special? 💢 How rude!!

Something pushed you scant but roughly away, towards the faint rays of sunshine feebly reaching out from the nearest shopping district. “Get going. Move.”

You furrowed your brow at the man separating you and danger lurking up ahead. “Okay, okay!” you hissed. “No need to be so rough…”

You’d taken about three nimble steps back the way you came at a cat burglars’ waltz before the mutters up ahead once more caught your attention. When you turned around to look, Johnny had vanished, and you found yourself whipping in every direction before nervously taking shelter behind some pipes jutting out the back of the nearest building.

“Sigh. This is stupid. I could be spending time with our precious doll but instead I’m stuck out here looking for a heap of rubbish.”

The second devil’s eyes grew menacing and serious, a soft purple hue sweeping over the surface. You shuddered at the sudden temperature drop. “My creations are not rubbish. It was just a misfiring of signals caused by the pressure of the oncoming storm. I can ensure that it doesn’t happen again when we get back, now quit whining about your screwup and help me look.”

“...A…” The first demon paused, frowning concern at his partner. “...Not to sound like Jisung, but is that even possible?”

The other snorted, bending down to shuffle through a pile of old broken pipes and other junk. “Han wouldn’t have even known what I’m talking about. But yes, it is possible...ah! Here she is~”

He smiled while pulling out a small toy robot, the hair and paint job looking...rather real. The first demonic being, who you could now see had hair the color of a Halloween sunset and a face full of stars, made a slightly grotesque expression, being sure to hide it stoically the moment his comrade looked back. “Great for you, now can we get back?”

“......” The latter looked sideways, almost seeming to be looking right at you. Your breath hitched, squeezing the pipe in front of you so hard it may well have burst. He closed his eyes with a smile. “...Yeah, sure. But first, there’s something I wanted to get off my chest as well.”

Freckles looked puzzled. “Wha? Right now? To me?” He furrowed his brow with a slightly annoyed pout. “Why? What is it?”

“Well…”

His voice dropped slightly. You leaned forward in a feeble attempt to listen.

“...Do you remember what Chan was saying? About the concern for lack of performers?”

“Huh? When did Chan say— OW! Why did you step on me?!”

The robot man frowned, glaring. “Do you remember what he said now?”

“...Ah…” Freckles glanced around. He suddenly seemed to catch wind of something, smirking the next moment. “...Yes, I do recall hearing something about that. I was, uh...busy...before.”

Mr. Robot rolled his eyes. “...Right...you were at that...thing. Anyway,” he announced loudly, “I don’t know what I’m going to do! He asked me to hire more performers, so I’ve decided to hold tryouts for new talent tonight at 8 pm.”

“Oh? Tonight at 8 pm??”

“Yes,” he repeated rather...automatedly. “Tonight at 8 pm sharp.”

“...”

Freckles abruptly leaned forward, whispering something. Robo-boy heaved a sigh, muttering back, then announced once more, “Oh, fine! We can hold it at 9 pm if that’s what you really want.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to— mm?!” A piece of duct tape was slapped over his mouth from the other’s toolbelt. He began pulling him promptly farther down into the alley, toy doll secured in the other arm.

“Great, so 9 pm sharp then! We better hurry or we won’t be ready for all the star talent!” ...And then they were gone.

You wasted no time scrambling around to find Johnny, wheezing out his name into the dim-lit area: “Johnny! Johnny?! Johnny!! Where are you?”

A flourish of feathers rushed past you from an offbeat breeze, fading into silver dust that vanished in the dank air. Something landed beside you, a bored expression on its face.

“...Don’t tell me you actually believed all that.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He nodded to where the demons had once been gossiping. “That. Over there. If you couldn’t tell that was a trick to lure you back there, then we have a lot more work to do than I was hoping for.”

Your cheeks inflated to represent a pouting Jigglypuff. “It’s not like that! Don’t be so suspicious, they don’t even know I’m a Sailor Guardian chosen by the Moon!”

“A...A what?”

You grabbed both his hands. “We’ll never know unless we try! This could be our chance to save your one and only true love!!”

“Urk—“ He winced. “...I told you, she’s not my true anything! Quit putting words in my mouth!”

You took a step back. “But—!”

“No.” He groaned. “...I thought you hated being involved in this whole spectacle, anyway. Since when do you want to march into a demon-infested funhouse and pick a fight?”

...You had to think about that a moment. He did have you there; but being a hypocrite was sort of your thing. And what about Evangeline?! “...Since...Since…!” Urgh! “Since I have this! And this!!”

You held up the necklace and whistle proudly, both of which had been resting in your pocket. For some reason, Johnny stared at them in contempt and rising anger. “I told you, these are not toys! And do you mean to tell me you weren’t wearing the necklace this whole time?!”

You’d been cackling proudly until...this point. “...Uh...y-yeah—“

“Idiot!”

“Whaa!” You fell on your bum, the weight of his words sending you flying. Johnny just glared like he had every right to throw you into the nearby dumpsters and trash piles where that toy robot had been. “You’re so naive and dense! I told you, you need to be wearing that necklace at all times! DO NOT take it off, ever, for anything!”

He snatched the whistle out of your hand, leaving marks of anger in his wake. A small hiss of pain left your lips, and you held your breath, gripping the injury in pain. When you let go a second later, a stain of blood greeted your eyes.

You’d opened your mouth to say something back, but he silenced you real quick, waving the silver whistle inches away from your face. “And this is not a toy! You can’t use it whenever you feel like it, or put your full reliance on it! It’s only for a serious emergency when I’m not around, or you get separated from me and need immediate help! It’s strictly for dangerous situations only, as a backup plan! It can’t be your only means of fighting, because I can’t fight all your battles for you! I TOLD you this, I’m not allowed to intervene in the laws of freewill! Why can’t you open your ears and listen to me?!”

“...I-”

“What? You what?” He tsked. “Are you just too stupid and incompetent to do that too? Good grief, you really are useless…hey, wait…” His eyes shifted down, to your hand now nestled in the sleeve of your trendy store-bought Letterman jacket. You were shaking and breaking out in goosebumps all over. “...What’s wrong with your hand?”

You refused to answer him, the silence blaring far and wide. The heated haze gently lifted from over his eyes, awakening him from his rampage; but it was too late.

“...Y/n…” He kneeled down. You let out a hiccup, followed by a sniffle. Guilt quickly took him over. “...Y/n, I’m—“

Your head shot up like a volcano erupting, red-faced and teary-eyed. The atmosphere was yours to command, anger rising over everything. “SAVE IT!” You roared, snatching the whistle back. You ran with all your might down the alley, made a swift turn into civilization, and kept running until you were exhausted and could run no farther, and had to result to power-walking, even after Johnny had called for you to stop, to slow down, to wait, to come back.

You ran all the way home, glaring heatedly at the dumb slender whistle in your hands before tossing it into the blender, and slamming the on button. But for some reason, it refused to start. When you took it out and tested the power, it worked just fine. When you tossed the whistle back in, it wouldn’t start at all.

Letting out another frustrated scream, you instead marched upstairs, throwing open the balcony doors and tossing it as hard as you could into the forest behind your house. You hoped a rabid squirrel or a bobcat would find it and carry it far, far away...maybe swallow it or something.

With a defeated huff you collapsed to your knees, resting your arms and head on the balcony railing. Seriously, why did Johnny have to be like that?! It wasn’t your fault this was all happening so quickly, and there was a lot to take in— forty eight hours ago, you’d been a normal girl just doing your job, minding your own business, living your life. And now you’d been scouted out of nowhere by some tall wack-job claiming to be an angel, when you hadn’t even seen his wings...just a few feathers, and an impulse to believe…

Why? Why were you so gullible? Why would you just believe him without knowing for sure? Even if he did have the strange power to calm you… well, now he’d also hurt you.

Your cellphone buzzed, but you ignored it. The home phone rang, but you let it go to voicemail.

“Y/n, it’s me. Pick up. We need to talk.”

What the heck...how did he get your phone number? How did he…?

Hng. You were starting to learn not to question Johnny, save for the matter of his true identity, in the scheme of how fast things were going. He may be an angel, and he may not be. But he was basically out of your league in terms of being crafty and resourceful.

A notification bell chimed from your computer, the screen coming to life. You could have sworn you turned it off before leaving the house, though…

You sat down at your desk and searched for a notification to respond to, but there was nothing. Strange. Wait...what was this?

There was a window minimized on standby. You opened it, finding a digital flyer for the Twisted Karnival.

The words spoken by the two demons before resonated in your mind: tryouts for new talent. 9 pm sharp.

Your fingers tightened around the necklace still in one hand, and as much as you wanted to hurl it off the balcony as well, you threw it over your head instead, burying the pendant beneath your shirt. You were still mad, but if you were going to do this, you weren’t going to be stupid about it. You’d march right over there and blend in perfectly; you’d put on a disguise so good, no one would be able to recognize you, not demons, not even Johnny! And this necklace would provide you with protection, just like he said! ...That was what he said, right…? ...Whatever. You’d make this work no matter what! Even if it was a trap! You’d just have to turn it around and bust that trap! Then he’d really see who was useless!!

“Who’s resourceful now?” You’d say. “Huh?!”

A sharp sting pierced your right hand, and you winced, shutting down your computer and running across the hall to wash the wound. It really wasn’t that bad of a scratch, so you had no idea why it was stinging so much…

Sigh. There were a lot of things you didn’t know as of late. Instead, glaring back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you decided to focus on things that you did know.

And one of those things was that you were about to prove Johnny very wrong.

~ ☽✮☾ ~

After taking a nap to be in tip-top shape for kicking demon ass, fueled by rage and determination to prove a point, you awoke just shy of eight to find you’d gained a bit of common sense...in other words, you were starting to have doubts.

According to plan, you were to march into uncharted enemy territory that had a 50% chance of being (...okay, 99.9%...) a trap, without Johnny, without anyone, to fight supernatural beings that possessed freaky powers you likely didn’t stand a chance against. You had no strategy, no combat experience, and no weapon save for the silver cross that was supposed to keep you safe somehow; but you couldn’t even remember exactly what it did. Something about making you invisible, maybe…? ...There was just so much information…

Perhaps you needed to think this through a bit more carefully, now that the previous flames of anger had died down to a subtle wisp of ember. With the smoke clearing, you were now able to see the real danger that lied up ahead; it was like you were standing there all over again, on carnival grounds, watching that girl’s life being sucked away…

No, not sucked away. It’d been corrupted. She’d been put under some sort of spell, and supposedly, you were the only one...or at least, the one chosen...to stop it. Johnny has chosen you for this. There was something he said...there was a reason you were chosen for this. Again, too much information in too little time…

...What if that was you? What if you rushed in there, full of spirit but no power to back it up, and ended up just like her?

...Even if that were to be the case, and you were wrong, and Johnny did turn out to be crazy, you couldn’t just abandon the thought of someone in need. Not when you’d seen her suffering with your own eyes, waiting to be saved.

You still didn’t know why it had to be you, but time was running out, your alarm clock reading 8:15. You’d made up your mind. You’d just have to find out along the way. If you died trying, well, hey— at least you died trying. You wouldn’t turn your back on someone in danger.

And even if I did call the police,what are they gonna do? Heck, the demons would probably brainwash them and have ME arrested instead. 🗿💧 There’s no way I’d be able to afford a bail fee on my school salary!!

Okay, y/n, it was time to get ready! Game on!! —Hey, hold on.

After jumping out of bed with a fiery new spirit, you looked down to your hand before you. The injury Johnny had given you…

...was completely gone.

~ ~ ~

Standing outside the carnival gates was like standing at the gates of a cemetery. As creepy and unfavorable as one could imagine, it was ten times worse.

You hadn’t known what to wear exactly in regards to the demon-slaying-attire department, but you also needed a good disguise, so you’d opted for your one-piece swimsuit from middle school that you miraculously found lying in your closet and just as miraculously still fit your matured body. A solid navy blue, you paired it with some stretchy ballet flats and a trench coat similar to Johnny’s belonging to your roommate, Jisung...more on him later. Basically you’d probably be owing him a new one after this, which may or may not have been more expensive than a brainwashed-officer’s bail fee...since it was…

Givenchy?! 😱 S-Son of a—

“Oh! There you are!”

AHH!

The appearance of Cherry Boy nearly made you jump out of your skin. He was so close, his face smiling sweetly to you from the other side of the twisted black fence, the thickening fog washing out his pale features (other than that blindingly bright red mop on his head). You pulled your Jisung’s jacket like a hug.

“Uhm...y-yes! Hahah, heeere I am~”

A strangely excited glint filled the young boy’s eye. Oddly enough, he didn’t move to unlock the gate for you or anything; in fact, he did the opposite, stepping back into the dense miasma as the gate just...opened itself… “You almost didn’t make it! Good thing you got here on time! Auditions are about to start!”

Your jaw was about to drop, but you did good to snap it shut, not wanting to show any forward emotion that may tip him off. You were an unsuspecting young girl, just trying her luck at auditioning to perform in the risingly-famous Twisted Karnival. No big— ...

Hold on. Cherry Boy had seen you. He’d gotten dangerously close to you and looked right in your eyes and spoken directly to you. But…

Weakly, but with fever, you patted your chest. Checked your pockets.

Johnny’s necklace was gone.

“Are you coming~? No need to be shy! Come on in! Oh, what’s your name?”

You stared horrifically into the blank atmosphere filled with mist. You couldn’t see Cherry Boy anywhere. “...Y/n...I mean!” Shit. “That’s what I wish my name would have been! But it’s really, uh...uh...S-Samantha!”

You could no longer see the demonic redhead anymore, but you could feel his presence twice as strong. His voice sounded as if he were right in front of you. “Samantha…? Hm. You sure don’t look like that name suits you at all. No offense or anything, it’s still such a lovely name for a lovely young lady~”

And then he was right behind you. His breath tickling your ear.

“Say, since you like the name y/n so much, how about we call you that instead? What do you think about that?”

...You thought you were this close to whopping this guy in his cute face and making a break for the shelter you passed two left turns ago. But alas, he was gently walking you forward, escorting you to your doom awaiting you in one of the many striped tents hidden in the mist. No turning back now.

The moment you crossed the gate’s threshold, something instantly didn’t feel right.

“So what will you be auditioning for today?” he asked in a bright, cheerful voice. It stood out like a sore thumb given the dank depressing carnival air. “Oh, I’m not one of the judges or anything, I’m simply curious to know.”

Okay, this was it. You’d decided on the way over that you would be auditioning in some form of acrobatics, since you’d also had minor experience in gymnastics as a kid and well...that’s really all you had to go on…

You sunk your head farther down into Jisung’s thousand-dollar jacket. Man. This plan is already proving to have way too many holes. What should I do?

You had to give him some kind of answer. “Um...yeah, sure! I’m...auditioning for…” You gulped. Felt his eyes glued to you, like a bullet to the back of the head. “...Uh, it’s a surprise! No spoilers!”

You’d jumped forward and spun around, making an X with your hands. Cherry Boy blinked.

“...Oh, I see! Yes, of course...wouldn’t want to ruin the fun!”

“Right?!” Phew.

“Yes, of course~” He stepped around you, pulling open the side-flap of a smaller tent to your left. “Well, here we are!”

“Oh, but…” You examined the size of the tent. No we ain’t. “This isn’t the main tent?”

“...No, it isn’t.” Cherry Boy confessed. He pointed somewhere North, maybe toward the center of the carnival. It was too hard to tell with all this blasted fog in the way. “The Main Tent is that way. I’ll be escorting you there once you finish getting ready! We have a professional makeup artist on standby, so hurry and get changed, and we may be able to make it on time!”

A wha??

“H-Hold on— I already have a costume—!” …

There was no holding on. He’d already pushed and closed you inside.

The tent was small and dim-lit by candlelight, barely big enough for four people. It held a trunk, a narrow wardrobe, and a compact vanity with a box of tissues and makeup supplies. A smiling young woman was waiting for you, one leg crossed over the other in her tight pencil skirt and bright pink lipstick. She looked...a little pale and...out of place. Like she didn’t belong in a circus, or a carnival, or whatever.

The woman didn’t say anything, not even when you slightly waved and muttered a less-than-confident hello. She stood up, gestured for you to sit down, and started mechanically slapping random compacts of powders and shadows to your face. The oddest scent of burnt rubber filled the air the more she awkwardly jerked and moved…

“Um...are you okay…?” You frowned. “Ma’am, you’re kind of...well, your movements are—”

She dropped the blush she was holding and paced over to the other side of the tent, jerkily, where the wardrobe was. Something snapped as she took a step halfway there, and she suddenly dipped, but before you could finish gasping at her expense and leap across the space to steady her she’d righted herself like nothing happened. Uncomfortable with all of it, you stared strangely at the blush that simply rested on the floor.

“Hey, Miss? Are you sure you should be working right now? I think that maybe you oughta go home...also, I’m sorry but, I don’t know the policy here...is makeup supposed to be left on the floor?”

She, again, didn’t answer. Something clicked and sparked while she rummaged the closet, though, and next thing you knew she was wrestling you into a new outfit.

“Hey, hold on, stop it! I don’t need a costume, I brought my own! I’m wearing it! Please— ack!”

Your face smacked into plastic, floor-abandoned foundation shoved up your nose.

After managing to shove her off and sneezing/coughing a few times, you were yanked before a mirror that...definitely wasn’t there before. Spooky…oh, but…!

The girl that greeted you back actually wasn’t that bad. Her makeup was kind of sloppy, but the idea behind it was pretty classy and kinda sexy. The outfit you now wore— a pure white leotard with an open back and a flashy, glittering pink trail (y’know, those skirts that are open in the front, like a cape for your waist), and pristine, matching white gloves— altogether, the ensemble was...dare you admit...actually pretty dang cute.

This woman may have had too much caffeine or been drunk off her ass, but she knew what she was doing in the scheme of things. “Say, this is actually really cute! Thanks!”

She bowed. Very unnaturally. It was way too low, like you were royalty or something, and you could have sworn there was a spark next to her hip. Weird. When she didn’t get back up and you could hear Cherry Boy calling, asking if you were ready, you snatched your Jisung’s coat and skipped out of there, muttering another awkward thanks.

Outside the tent Cherry Boy was grinning at you from ear to ear, a disgustingly adorable rosy tone to his cheeks that counteracted to your false one. Curse him. “Wow, look at you!” He padded closer to stroke your cheek, an action you didn’t call for to occur. It left you stiff and frozen solid, color fleeing where his skin met yours. “...That outfit certainly is stunning...to make a last debut in.”

Those last words didn’t quite make sense to you, but you were more concerned with the way he was examining you, scanning his eyes up and down the length of your body like you were an exhibit on display, and he was an aspiring artist, trying to take in everything that he could…and the fact that he still had his hand on you…

You felt like a corpse. But also, for some unnamed reason, you felt almost angry...

“Jeongin! Hurry up— oh!”

Both you and Cherry Boy— Jeongin, you guessed— pivoted your heads in the direction a new player called from the main stage. After only seeing a silhouette for the longest two seconds of your life, at last, Mr. Robot himself came into view.

Nervously, you gripped the sides of your sparkly half-skirt, shivering from both the chill of settling mist and the heavy negative vibes ascending in the air. When Jeongin released you, you stumbled back a step and a half, gripping the gaping hole swelling in your gut. Your mind clouded with backlash thicker than this impenetrable fog: how stupid this was, how dumb you were, that you should have never come—

You came to a death trap empty handed with no survival skills or redeeming known qualities except that you were somehow “the one.” ...Were you insane?!

Just like Johnny’s outburst, it was too late to escape. You were already too far in. Two of them now knew you were here, and you couldn’t even run if you’d wanted to; fear held you down like a magnet, and the hole in your stomach was beginning to fester.

Yet, beneath that, in the pit of your stomach, in the center of that swirling vortex, there was also something...stirring…

...Maybe you just need to throw up again. “You must be the last audition we’ve been waiting for! Everyone else has already gone, we’re just waiting for you!” Robo-boy smiled like a kid that knew he’d won before the game was over. “Are you ready?”

You dragged your foot a step back, then another, clinging to your coat for dear life. It was a miracle you even found your voice at all. “H-How did you know I was going to audition? How did you know I’d come here?”

...What? The jig was basically up anyway.

“Hmm…” He thought. Or pretended to. “I suppose you could say we had...a hunch.”

And then you aren’t sure what happened, because the next second his eyes were glowing that purple hue you saw in the alleyway, only it was stronger now...brighter...and you were left with nothing but a will to follow him.

Though you could no longer control your movements, you still had an awareness that was all your own. Jeongin and Robot Guy snickered the whole way they led you to the Main Tent, joking about how they wished they’d had more time to play and experiment before it was time for you “to go.” They laughed at the expense of how smoothly you’d just waltzed right into their plan, and Robo Boy in particular stated something along the lines of hoping one “Chan” would allow him to use your body as a spare part (or spare parts) for some side project he was working on...whatever the heck that was supposed to be. It didn’t sound good.

You jerked and jimmied on the inside, pulling back with all your might, but it proved fruitless on the out. Like you weren’t even struggling at all.

Dang it, dammit all! I can’t move!!

Struggle and pull as you might, it was completely useless...just like Johnny had called you. Useless. You really were useless…

The two demons (well one, really) marched you through the back entrance of the mothership, down a dark passageway, and directly to the stage...only to make an unannounced sharper-than-a-knife right turn and up a tall ladder hidden behind some dull velvet curtains. Every step and reach was intensified, like your senses had become twice as strong; you were more than aware of what was happening, being forced to lock in on the current moment.

When you reached the top, you were standing on a thin white platform...with nothing but a thin, fraying rope that led to the other side. To a matching platform some three hundred, four hundred feet away.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Robot Boy called from below. “But I riffled through your brain and found a coherent thought about wanting to try your luck at a game of balance? It should prove to be quite...interesting.”

He let you look downward, only for a moment. If allowed to show expression, your jaw would have hit the floor...er, platform. The main tent was HUGE— way more massive within that it looked outside. It was like a freakin’ coliseum made to look more festive and carnival-istic, though gothic-ly so. There had to be at least a thousand seats, probably more...and all sorts of strange equipment and contraptions littered the stage. Canons, various raised platforms, hoops, some large...vacuum...thing?

The demonic population had grown. Instead of two, there were now seven of them...and after you’d closed and opened your eyes, a whole room full. Every seat had been filled: with a demonic creature, a shadowy blob, or some kind of horrific mortification of the two…

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t. Tilting your head to face forward again, two of the seven original monsters had teleported themselves to be waiting on the platform opposite to you, one sitting, the other standing. The standing one flashed you a smile that would have been priceless were it not tainted by brutality and fear; the other one, a short but muscular man sitting down, was holding a ball of fire in one hand. He rolled it gently onto the twine connecting the distance between, and the whole thing engulfed in a line of fire. You whimpered, but still couldn’t move.

The Givenchy coat caught onto the flames, or perhaps the flames caught onto it— regardless, it burned away and crumbled to ash, but amazingly the fire didn’t touch your body...or at least, you didn’t feel anything. You were now standing vacantly in the borrowed outfit that was most likely your funeral gown. Nothing but a hollowed version of your former self.

The standing demon that had a killer smile to boot flashed you his pearly whites in the most graceful way possible, and carefully but with little effort he walked into the flames, though he remained completely unscathed. He padded and strolled across the wire with the gracefulness of a swan, pausing when he reached the center. He did not waver, didn’t lose his balance or second guess himself, for an instant, never taking his eyes off of you rather than where he was walking. He extended a graceful hand out to you.

“Come to me...my angel.”

His eyes glowed green, the color of emeralds in a sea of fire. It was beautiful, mesmerizing…

Slowly, you raised you right slipper, taking a placid step forward—

“Y/N!!!”

Huh…? Who—

A blindingly white light pierced the skies, washing out everything around it.

“Release!!!” Someone yelled.

One of the demons cursed, and whatever spell that had been holding you vanished, your heart turning you towards the source. Could it be…? Was it really…?

It was. You smiled.

“Johnny!”

...And then feeling something hot and burning dangerously close, stared into the pits of hell you’d almost walked and fell into. “AAAAAH!!”

Something swooped by and grabbed you, like an eagle catching and carrying off its prey. Fearfully, you tilted your head back to see…

“Johnny!!” :D

“Yes, you already announced that,” he smirked. But wait…

Curiously, you focused blurry eyes on what had been supporting the weight of you both behind him. It was soft and feathery, a mix of brown and white, glowing faintly with a yellow-golden aura…

It was Johnny’s wings. He really was an angel...for real this time.

“Don’t worry,” he said, zigzagging slightly to avoid incoming fireballs and flying daggers. “You’re safe now, I promise. But you have to—“

“WHAAAAAA!!!”

“W-Why are you still crying?! I just told you you were safe!”

“That’s not iiiiiit!” You sobbed. “I...I thought bad of you before. I still didn’t believe what you were saying, but...you were telling the truth all along. ...And…” You looked up to him with teary eyes. “J-Jisung’s jacket...I’ll never be able to pay it off! I’m gonna be poor forever!! Whaaaa…!!!”

“What—?” 💧

“Grrr…” one of the demons growled. “Quit MOVING!!”

A flaming kunai came hurling after the two of you at blinding speed compared to the previous attacks, and at last your luck had run out...or maybe not. Fortunately, though Johnny went down with a hurt wing, the two of you managed to crashland on the nearest platform, and he flicked the knife away like it’d only barely punctured him.

“Goodbye, BLTs…” you sobbed, still too hung up on broke-life. “Goodbye, kpop album collection—“

Johnny gave you the 🗿💧 face. “You can cry about being broke later! Right now, I need you to focus on becoming Sailor Moon and stopping these guys!”

“What?! But why can’t you— aah!”

You both ducked for cover as a flaming frisbee-contraption nearly cut both your heads clean off, slicing through the pole behind you. Gulp.

Johnny scowled, his temper rising again. “I TOLD you already! Don’t make me have this argument with you again, I— ...hnn,” he groaned. “I’m sorry...for the way I treated you before. I should have found a better way of introducing all this to you. I should have known better and I shouldn’t have lost my temper…” His eyes sparked with a fire as he turned to you, determination leaking from every part of him. “But right now I need you to set all that aside and focus on the mission! Please! You can do it, Sailor Y/n!”

“B-But…” You faltered still. “I-I don’t know how! What am I supposed to do?!”

“For starters,” he squinted his eyes, tossing something over your head. “Wear this. And don’t lose it next time!”

��Ahh!” You smiled gleefully, relief washing over your nervous system. “The necklace! You found it!”

“Enough talk!” A new demon you had yet to meet, with smooth parted hair and a tiger at each side of him, smiled up at you from the center stage. “I have orders from Chan. We are to eliminate this girl and the angel immediately.”

Uh-oh. You worriedly took a few steps back, as his eyes glowed a yellow hue that only got brighter. The beast beside him growled and hissed, positioning themselves to pounce and attack.

“All of you stand back. I’ll finish her myself.”

“What? No fair, you and Felix and Seungmin always have all the fun, with your dumb tinkering and running around selling tickets.”

“...That’s Felix and Jeongin, Han.” Robot Demon said.

Han rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Minho and everyone else gets to have just as much fun. I haven’t even gotten to do anything yet!”

“Would you shut up?!” Green-eyes yelled from above. “All you do is ride that dumb bike of yours all over camp! It’s annoying and you’re constantly running into stuff and scaring away potential victims!”

Han’s eyes glowed pink. “Oh-ho! Looks like someone remembered to take his bitchy pill this morning, huh Hyunjin~? PMS still got you down?”

Green-eyes...threw his shoe at him.

Freckles— Felix— sighed, scowling almost as much as Robot Guy (Seungmin?) and the others were. He placed his hands on his hips in a familiar sassy-middle school student pose. “Can we maybe not fight right now? If you haven’t noticed, we have company.”

Hyunjin blinked, shifting his attention to the star-faced boy. “Woah, hey, was Felix actually sensible just now?”

“ENOUGH!” Minho barked. Everyone else snapped to attention. He sighed. “All of you stay out of this and go strengthen the barrier or something. Let me handle these two, I’m more than enough of a match.”

“For a little girl and an old man?” Han scoffed. “I’d hope so.”

“Go.”

“Hmph.” Han swung around over a bike behind him, probably the one Hyunjin had been complaining about. “Fine. I’m out of here.” He smirked. “I’m gonna go cut in line to play with my doll~”

Hyunjin stared at the retreating dust incredulously as he zoomed away. “WHAT?! Oh no you’re not! I have her next!”

He flipped off the tightrope with ease, landing just as gracefully as before and retrieving his missing shoe. He then hightailed it after him.

“......” The man who’d quietly been sitting on the platform (besides trying to kill you with flaming balls of fire) sighed once they left, jumping down the long distance and landing like it was nothing as well. “I better go make sure they don’t kill each other again. You got this, Minho?”

Minho growled. “I told you, I did. Get out of here.”

He held his hands up, rolling his eyes a bit. “Okay, okay. See you later.”

He met your eyes before vanishing, the orbs glowing orange. You “eep”-ed and covered yours, and you heard a distant chuckling as he vanished from sight.

When you opened them, a small fire burned at your feet.

“AHHH! Hot, hot, HOT!!”

You danced and jumped into Johnny’s arms, the remaining demons chuckling at your expense.

“Awww, did Changbin’s fire burn you? It’ll be okay, if you come down here and let my babies eat you, I’ll make sure it’s a swift and painless death.”

“Hey, wait,” Seungmin frowned. “Leave her body in one piece. I may be able to use it for my latest side project.”

Minho frowned more. “You sure as hell didn’t say anything when Changbin and Felix were throwing flaming daggers.”

“That’s because I knew they’d miss. You actually have a chance of mauling her.”

In the background, Felix twitched. “Hey! I did so land a hit!”

“Yeah, one. That did little to no damage.”

“Shut up!!”

They just kept going back and forth like this. Back and forth, back and forth. As they bickered, you followed Johnny’s gaze to one of the far side entrances, where the ones called Han and Hyunjin had disappeared through.

You thought. And pondered. And puzzled. Until…

“Oh!” You declared, landing a fist in your palm. “That must be where they’re keeping your one true love!”

“Huh?!”

The remaining three demons all turned to look at you. Wait, you could have sworn there’d been four, though…? “Hm? Coming up with a strategy to escape?” Minho chuckled, crouching down. “I can’t allow that.”

Now it was your turn to scowl, a new confidence suddenly swirling within you like a vortex. Really, you were just tired of being here, and getting kind of hungry.

You pointed an accusatory finger at Minho, mimicking your best Sailor Moon pose. “Augh, enough already! I’m sick of being here and I wanna go home!” You flashed a few more poses, giving your best fighting stance. “Alright demons, listen up! In the name of the Moon™, I’m shutting this carnival down! Get ready!”

“U-Uh…” Behind you, Johnny began to sweat.

Minho laughed again, the other two standing their ground with a smirk. “Are you now?” He ran a hand down the back of one of his beasts, the creature both purring and growling lowly. “And just how do you plan on doing that? Hm?”

…Well once again, the supernatural had gotten you there. “Uh...I’ll…” You wracked your brain for an suitable answer that wouldn’t make you sound too dumb or inexperienced. “...report you to the BBB! I’ll make sure to leave a bad review, too! No stars!”

Johnny facepalmed.

“......” Minho turned over his shoulder. “...What is she talking about? What’s a BBB?”

Felix shrugged, appearing just as lost. “No idea. Let’s just take her soul and give it to this guy. It’s gonna be my turn to play with our doll soon. ♥ ”

Like beetle juice, Hyunjin reappeared in the doorway, arms stretched wide in prehistoric rage like a certain popular internet meme. His hair and clothes were a mess from the previous battle with Han. “Wha?! No way, Chan said I could have her next!”

Minho began groaning and growling all over again. “Quit fooling around! We have to fight already!”

Felix gave him a skeptical glare. “What? But you told us to—“

“Be quiet!” His eyes shone brighter. “Go get her!”

“Grrrrwar!”

The tigers both pounced in unison, landing halfway up the pole and making an unnaturally powerful climb toward you. You shrieked, latching back onto Johnny and demanding he take you as far and high into the clouds as he could go.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pushed you off (gently...ish), squaring your shoulders to face him as death quickly crawled up from below. “Listen! I’m only going to say this once! You can and will do this! Believe in yourself!”

“WHAT?!” It was an understatement to say you were panicking; you were downright having a nervous breakdown. “WHAT THE HECK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! I LIED, I CAN’T SHUT ANYTHING DOWN!! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO—“

And then he just...floated away from you.

Your jaw dropped. “JOHNNY!!!”

“Grwar!!”

“AAAA!!!”

You braced yourself as one of the tigers pounced, knocking you back. When someone (Johnny) broke your fall but you still managed to land with a thud, you wasted no time hopping to your feet and making a beeline for the exit, tossing as many obstacles as you could behind you in an attempt to give yourself time.

“Stay away! Leave me alone!! EEP!!!”

You tripped as the other tiger came out of nowhere, tackling you down. Because Johnny intervened and held it back for a fraction of a second, you instead skidded forward, faceplanting a far wall.

“Ow…! Dang it…” You looked back over your shoulder, as Minho and the two beasts were closing in, twistedly stalking closer. Spinning and pressing yourself as hard against the wall as you could, your eyes frantically scanned the area for Johnny, but he was too busy distracting the other two...really three...from ganging up on you, even if Minho had insisted for them not to.

“It’s over…” He mused, splaying an open hand toward you. “Finish her.”

“GrwaAAAAR!!”

“AAAA—!!!”

...This was it. You held your breath. Shielded your face. Closed your eyes. Waited for it to be over…

…But, then…

Time came to a stop. Your stomach churned, swirling, the vortex growing stronger. Stronger, stronger, and stronger, until…

You heard Johnny gasp, the chaos of battle coming to a halt. “Y/n…!!”

“Ahhh...aAAAAAAH!!!”

Something dark and vibrant exploded throughout the room, the source coming from your stomach. The fabric over the area burned away, leaving a sizzling hole, rays of ultraviolet light beaming forth. It sent the creatures fixing to murder you flying the other way, soaring past Minho, who cringed and squinted his eyes, shielding them with one arm. The sudden windstorm caused his hair and clothes to whip around him, all of it like a scene out of a movie…

“What...What the hell…?! ...Nngh, ahh!”

Then he went flying as well. But not from the wind as you’d momentarily thought. When the light faded and the air settled down, a dark shadow landed before you, having attacked Minho. The shadows dripped and slithered into a pool beneath it’s center, revealing…

A boy. A man with purple hair.

From somewhere far off, you heard Johnny say something, remaining as still as the waters of a cysteine chapel:

“...Oh, shit…”

...Guess he did swear after all.

~ ☽✮☾ ~

A/N: Hi, everyone! c: Thank you for reading the Dark Rising series thus far, it’s been a blast to write! If you liked this story, please do me favor and give it a like and reblog! And be sure to leave me your thoughts in the tags or my inbox, it means a lot and I’d greatly appreciate it! Thank you so much for reading; I’ll see you in Act Three!! <3

23 notes · View notes

mllemaenad · 5 years ago

Note

Why is everybody keep forgetting that elves had quite some forces and were not some helpless souls? Why do ppl forget that it's their own racism that initially caused the war in the Dales? Why everybody dismisses Minaeves' story about how her clan treated the unwanted mages? I mean Chantry sucks big time, but can we please stop making elves into some magic creatures that only do good. They do not. None of the races and religions in Dragon Age is perfect, yet one has a particular bias from fandom

Hi Anonymous person.

Um. Sorry, but … what? That’s … a lot of vitriol. I’m … going to do this point by point.

Why is everybody keep forgetting that elves had quite some forces and were not some helpless souls?

No one is claiming that the elves were ‘helpless’ in the sense that they were children, or somehow unable to fight. Elven sources are a bit spotty, for solid ‘in universe’ reasons, but there’s enough on the Emerald Knights to understand that they kicked some serious arse.

But. By the time Orlais set its sights on the Dales, it had already steamrolled over a bunch of other nations, effectively doubling its original size.

The grand nation of Orlais occupies a full quarter of the Thedosian continent and extends its influence far beyond its shifting borders. In ages past, Orlais flexed its military muscle, threatening territory belonging to Nevarra and Tevinter and outright invading Ferelden. One could argue that the Emperor or Empress of Orlais, regardless of competency, is the second most powerful person in Thedas – the first, of course, being the Divine.

…

Together, the two [Kordillus Drakon and Area Montlaures] transformed Orlais from a few squabbling clans controlling their own city states into an empire. Hand in hand, they conquered well into modern-day Ferelden and Nevarra, stamping out any worship of the Old Gods as well as lingering Alamarri and Ciriane Deities.

– World of Thedas Volume II

Sure, we have an account of the massacre of a pacifist nation (note that they are also vilified by the text, even though they are literally ‘helpless souls’ being overrun and slaughtered by an empire), but that is going to be the exception to the rule. Most of these ‘squabbling clans’ would have had warriors and fortifications. It didn’t matter. Orlais invaded, defeated them, forced them to convert – and absorbed the survivors. The Orlesian empire is The Blob.

Do you … not get how massive this thing is? A quarter of Thedas is under direct Orlesian control. That’s what came for the Dales. An almost endless supply of soldiers and weapons and supplies against one newborn nation. That’s what’s so scary about empires, once they get going: they can take the resources of the people they conquered yesterday – including the bodies of the actual people to be used as soldiers or workers – and use them against you today.

So yeah: big picture, they were ‘helpless souls’ being knocked down by the biggest bully in Thedas. They put up a hell of a fight – even took Montsimmard for a while – but they didn’t have the resources of an empire to sustain them, so they were screwed.

Why do ppl forget that it’s their own racism that initially caused the war in the Dales?

Okay so … racism. I feel like I keep saying ‘empires are bad’ and ‘conversion by the sword is bad’ and … these are somehow controversial statements that people want to refute? That’s … just a little bit scary, you know?

The elven people quite famously worked with humans. Specifically with the Alamarri rebels who took down the Tevinter Imperium. You know: Andraste?

At Shartan’s word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady’s, ten thousand swords

Rang from their scabbards,

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

– Shartan 10:1.

– Dark Moon

There’s even a whole fucking verse about Shartan and his people making a bloody suicide run on the entire Tevinter army to try to rescue Andraste:

The Liberator drew the blade at his side

And charged the pyre, the freedom of the Prophet before his eyes,

But from the legion came a storm of arrows

Blacker than night. And the disciple who had fought side by side

With the Lady fell, along with a hundred of his People.

And among the Alamarri ten thousand swords fell to the ground in a chorus of defeat.

– World of Thedas Volume II

That’s pretty heroic! And pretty tragic! Elven slaves and human rebels standing side by side, fighting an empire. Winning, in the end, although at great cost. And yet what you’re trying to tell me is that the elves are ‘racist’ (also: not a great word to use in reference to an oppressed people because racism requires social power) rather than, say, justifiably worried about the growing power of a nascent empire?

He [Kordillus Drakon] began his holy quest at the ripe old age of sixteen by taking to the battlefield. At the time, each clan had its own variety of the cult of Andraste, its own rituals, traditions and versions of Andraste’s words. Young Drakon unified them by the sword.

– World of Thedas II

Orlais is aggressive and fanatical. It is running around slaughtering people who disagree with its religious beliefs. If you are a non-Andrastian nation sitting more-or-less on the Orlesian border, watching other nations fall and be forcibly converted – and those people just believed different things about Andraste – you have to know what’s coming. This really only goes one way. Are you really going to call closing your borders and prepping for conflict ‘racism’? Is that really the word you want to use?

Halamshiral, “the end of the journey,” was our capital, built out of the reach of the humans. We could once again forget the incessant passage of time. Our people began the slow process of recovering the culture and traditions we had lost to slavery.

But it was not to last. The Chantry first sent missionaries into the Dales, and then, when those were thrown out, templars. We were driven from Halamshiral, scattered. Some took refuge in the cities of the shemlen, living in squalor, tolerated only a little better than vermin.

– The Dales

Relations broke down completely when the Chantry sent missionaries. Because of course they did. The fact that Orlais fundamentally does not believe in religious freedom is the very thing that the elves are afraid of. It is also, you know, a pretext. Provocation meant to push the elves so they start something and Orlais can say it was their fault. There is almost always a pretext. The empire says it’s coming in to resolve a local conflict, or they’re dealing with an incident on the border, or they’re ‘liberators’. And then they stay. And they take.

Do you really mean to blame the elves for being conquered?

Why everybody dismisses Minaeves’ story about how her clan treated the unwanted mages?

No one has forgotten or dismissed Minaeve. Everyone is keenly aware that – on a meta level – Bioware did some quite ugly retconning in Inquisition to make both elves and mages look less sympathetic. Many people have noted that Minaeve’s story is the exact opposite of Lanaya’s story, and that neither Velanna nor Merrill talk about anything like that. Nevertheless, it is raised at least three times in Inquisition: by Minaeve, by Vivienne and by The Iron Bull. So yes, that is a deliberate retcon made at a late stage in the series in order to allow people to do exactly what you’re doing: yell that the elves are ‘just as bad’. It’s gross.

In universe, of course, it’s worth noting that Minaeve was seven when this happened. Whatever it was, it was terrible – but it may not have been what she thought. It’s also worth noting that the Dalish are wandering nomads with few resources, under constant threat from humans in general and templars in particular, and if they did find themselves forced to throw one mage child to the templars to protect the rest – that is fucking horrible, but says more about the world Orlais has created than it does about the elves.

But I have to ask – why do you think it’s so important that everyone remember a twenty-second pro-templar conversation with a minor character, instead of extensive conversations about elven society and losses with Merril and Velanna? Those are two grown women who have lived their whole lives as Dalish and have a keen understanding of the culture of their clans. Or whole novels about Fiona and Briala, respectively the leaders of the mage and elven rebellions?

I know the novels are supplementary material so I’m certainly not blaming anyone for being unfamiliar with them. But if there were things I wish people could always remember when talking about the elves – it would be those stories of oppression and revolution.

I mean Chantry sucks big time, but can we please stop making elves into some magic creatures that only do good. They do not. None of the races and religions in Dragon Age is perfect, yet one has a particular bias from fandom.

It’s … interesting that you brought ‘race’ into this. Because I didn’t. I haven’t been writing criticisms of ‘humans’. I’ve left the Rivaini alone; usually mentioned Fereldans favourably; I haven’t been talking about Antiva or Nevarra. They haven’t come up.

I was talking about the aggression of the Orlesian empire and its Chantry. The elves were brought up as possibly the people who have lost the most to Orlesian aggression. They’re certainly the best sourced of those people. I’ve talked about the Chasind and Avvar where I can (humans!). I’ve talked about dwarves and Qunari. I bring up the Daughters of Song and the Disciples of Andraste where I can, because I have references for them. I know that a whole lot of other cultures were destroyed by Drakon and his Chantry – but alas, I can’t say anything meaningful about them because there are no codex entries, in game dialogue or other reference materials for them.

Of course the elves are not ‘perfect’. While Zathrian’s rage is understandable, his decision to keep the curse going even when it began to threaten his clan was terrible. Merril’s clan was far too easily led to bully and exclude her; they were her family and someone should have stood up for her. Historically, the Dales probably made a mistake staying out of the Second Blight. I mean – I get it. The Blight softened up Tevinter enough to let the rebels take it down. It could have worked again against Orlais. But in retrospect – bad idea. Didn’t work.

Those are just examples. Of course there are more. But it doesn’t matter. That an elven character fucked up at some point does not change the fact that they face racial persecution as non-humans (and are pretty clearly coded as a combination of indigenous, Jewish and Romani people), that they face religious persecution as non-Andrastians and that the Orlesian empire stole their land and forced them into slums.

And I note all of this because of the … tenor of your Ask. Had you said something like “This elven stuff is great, but I’d like to chat about how the dwarves are basically facing an apocalypse and no one will help them, and also wouldn’t a story about a casteless revolution be great?” I would have said “Yes! Let’s talk about that!” Had you said something like “Isn’t it fucked up that the Qunari are treated largely as savage invaders, operating as an ‘Other’ it’s okay to hate?” I would have said “Yes! Yes, it is!”

But … this reads like a list of ‘reasons why people should stop pretending the elves don’t deserve to be oppressed’. And … somehow equates ‘Orlesians’ with ‘humans’?

I mean – surely you aren’t saying that our sympathies should not be with the frequently enslaved minority group who are forced to live as second class citizens in appalling slums, and who have been forcibly converted to a religion they don’t want to follow … but rather with the empire that took everything from them?

Because … I really hope not.

#dragon age #chantry critical #Anonymous

359 notes · View notes

laughingpinecone · 4 years ago

Text

Press Start letter

I am laughingpineapple on AO3

It’s a long list of character combos so the specific requests aren’t overly detailed, please draw at will from my general likes and general fandom likes in addition or as an alternative to any of those!

All requests are art or fic - for art, the stuff I like is the kind that depicts the characters doing something. I’ll always be happier with a very simple drawing of two characters walking together or sharing a cup of coffee than with an ambitious composition that looks like an Avengers poster. I also enjoy seeing them wear different clothes, getting a feel of what their fashion sense is like beyond their canon outfit(s).

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

Cool with: any tense, any pov, any rating, plotty, not plotty, IF, nerdy canon references, unrequested characters popping up

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents are okay), canon retellings, consent issues

Dark Souls

I’m only familiar with the first game+DLC! It’s probably relevant to mention that I think that linking the fire is kind of a dumbass move and Gwyn is an ass, but on the other hand Kaathe has his own agenda and there’s no winning move in this world, or at least no obvious one. Feel free to deviate from anyone’s canon endings, to make things happen that’ll stave off their hollowing. I am interested in any of these people meeting and possibly striking up a friendship, and also in exploring Lordran’s temporal/dimensional fuckery, where it’s possible to meet people who have been gone for ages…

Group: Solaire of Astora & Siegmeyer of Catarina: so much fanart of Sun Bro & Onion Bro being bros, so little fic. And yet, the potential! How’d they bounce off each other, what about the fact that Siegmeyer is apparently a proper Catarina knight after all while Solaire just painted his self-made insignia and left, what would Sieg think of Solaire’s quest?

Group: Alvina the Cat & Sieglinde of Catarina: dunno, kitty. I love them both and I want everyone cool to go on adventure with each other. What’s left for Alvina now that Sif is gone, Artorias’ grave desecrated? For her part, did Sieglinde, you know, (mimics Ash Lake)?

Ghost Trick

I am very interested in various characters finding about the erased timeline, but not getting their memories back, and having to live with being told about what they did but never remembering it. Exploring the ghost lore is great. All what-ifs welcome (what if they managed an acceptable happy ending but didn’t reset the timeline, what if a different party went back to the past and kept their memories, what if Alma’s ghost stuck around…) Also open to AUs here, especially for generic fantasy or sci-fi settings or the Final Fantasy ones I prompted last Yuletide.

For the non-canon sides of Jowd/Alma/Cabanela, please no infidelity? I’d be good with either setting the fic during the game timeline or some what-if thereof when the other spouse is dead or unavailable, or simply keeping them offscreen and not mentioning them (eg Alma/Cabanela beach day, Jowd/Cabanela precinct shenanigans)

For Jowd in general, I do love my big boy and enjoy milking that size difference for all it’s worth. In gen contexts too, it’s neat. him big.

Group: Jowd & Yomiel: I’d love to read about the intimate understanding that comes from their shared memories and the horrors they’ve mutually forgiven (and a penchant for morbidity they’ve gained from such horrors probably). Cat dads things welcome.

Group: Alma/Jowd/Cabanela: maybe once Alma and Jowd have figured out he’s smitten and that they do in fact reciprocate... they tease him to death, slowly and deliberately? Is it even a Jowd romance if there’s not an exhausting amount of teasing involved, I ask?

Group: Alma/Jowd & Cabanela: Cabs’ life is wild; his best friends’ home is a safe haven...

Group: Emma & Pigeon Man: Emma’s unsuspected beta reader...

Group: Alma/Cabanela: (taps mic) legs. And fashion!

Group: Cabanela/Jowd: a recent tumblr post made a convincing argument for Cabs liking to be in charge (the argument is just pointing at Cabanela, honestly). Jowd is... agreeable, by his own admission. But is it that simple?

Kentucky Route Zero

I love the ending and I’d love to see its themes and setting explored. I’m all for exploration of any of the game’s themes and for including any staples from adjacent genres - wanna go full-on American Gothic? Dip into surrealism? Take a leaf from Twin Peaks with tulpa / split narratives to explore the characters’ issues? I love AUs so that’s an option too. Or of course there’s Xanadu at the height of its glory, an infinite what-ifs generator. Were the requested characters part of it, what were their digital counterparts up to? A Xanadu narrative would be great! I’d also love to hear about any new spot along the Zero or the Echo river, or an expansion of some place that’s only mentioned by Will in HATATE or only gets a few paragraphs of text. Mostly, I just love all these characters so much and I’m going through the tagset’s options like a hyperactive cat. Any fragment of their lives will make me happy.

Group: Shannon Márquez & Conway & Conway's Dog: does Shannon get to see them after the ending? Even for a moment?

Group: Lula Chamberlain/Joseph Wheattree/Donald: so Lula went back to Mexico. Joseph is pensive. Did the events of the night shake up Donald, or what will it take?

Group: Junebug & Lula Chamberlain: artists! Outspoken... artists... with a complicated personality. Put them in the same room and...?

Group: Junebug & Johnny: where’s the strangest place they played in, and what did Johnny find there?

Group: Conway & Johnny & Junebug (Kentucky Route Zero): their story is about finding individuality, his is about succumbing and losing it. Would any of them pick up on this mid-Act IV? Or just... talking about limbs and stuff?

Group: Cate & Will & Shannon Márquez (Kentucky Route Zero): a few months later, Shannon finds herself on the Mucky Mammoth again...

Group: Carrington & Weaver Márquez & Shannon Márquez (Kentucky Route Zero): maybe the cousins were trying to bond or reminisce or whatever and Carrington dive-bombed into the conversation, but in the end it was an enriching experience... of sorts?

Group: Carrington & Lula Chamberlain (Kentucky Route Zero): I don’t usually look for college shenanigans but this may be the exception? Or Art Opinions?

Group: Carrington & Clara (Kentucky Route Zero): would she even... get a word in? Maybe with the right topic?

Group: Carrington & Cate & Will (Kentucky Route Zero): Mammoth life! ...what does theater have to say about mushrooms again?

Group: Shannon Marquez & Weaver Marquez (Kentucky Route Zero): at the end of it all, Weaver was waiting. After this end, they can stand side by side again...

Group: Emily & Ben & Bob (Kentucky Route Zero): so what does it mean, like, poetically, that they were temporally displaced and Act I is in their future from Act V? Is it possible they were not aware of it?

Mutazione

The island, the sense of community, newcomers joining the community, gardens and music... I love the mood of this little game. Got ideas for some part of the island we haven’t seen? What stories do they tell each other about Moon Dragon and the first days of the new life it brought? The plants encyclopaedia was great - do Yoké’s archives hide some other cool tome? Please, if Graubert is mentioned, I would much prefer a sympathetic portrayal - he’s got his issues but I felt that the game was much harder on him than anyone else.

Group: Yoké & Karoo: I love the friendship between Yoké and Nonno and filtering it through Karoo feels even cooler to me. When did the big spooky bird first visit, did Yoké know or perceive what was going on?

Group: Yoké & Claire: book club book club book club!

Group: Spike/Claire: they’re so cute! Dinner at Mori’s? Swimming together?

Group: Nonno & Spike: I love Nonno’s role in the community and Spike’s role in the community, and they’re the two people who landed there and decided to stay. Could they bond over this?

Group: Dennis & Nonno: Important Tree Health Business!

Group: Bopek & Jell-A: Jell-A is the absolute coolest and Bopek grew on me a lot. Their friendship is adorable! What could they do together? As a side note, Jell-A’s place has the tightest interior decor in the whole game. How’d that happen, and does Bopek get a flair for vintage shapes and volumes in his weaving?

Group: Mori & Nonno & Yoké: FRIENDS. Friends for a long time, through so much pain. An evening together while The Youths (tm) are at Spike’s bar?

Yoké: catch-all Yoké request because he’s my fave! Doing Yoké things, being a big nerd, caring for books and plants and stuff

Pyre

The burning found family feelings, the revolutionary passion, the tension between topside social constraints and the kind of freedom allowed by the Downside! Thoughts about finding oneself at the end of an age, as everything crumbles down to form something new. I love all the themes, the solemnity, the heart of this game. I adore everyone in that Blackwagon+Dalbert+Celeste, so if you want to add a Nightwing or two to any prompt, please do! I also love all the Scribes and find Erisa a compelling tragic figure. Out of the other triumvirates, I’m “love to hate them” for Manley, Brighton, Udmildhe and Deluge and would not like to see them featured in sympathetic roles. My main interest usually lies in post-canon exploration when applicable, but I’m also into various adventures during canon. Pick a location or a place outside the map and see what happens? As for the ending variables, I’d ask for a peaceful revolution and Oralech alive, but no preferences for who’s up and who’s down, pick whatever works best for any given plot bunny.

Group: Tariq & Soliam: what were Tariq and Celeste like in their earliest days? Were they made or summoned from some sort of preexisting star consciousness? They’re wildly different scenarios! I’m good with either. Does Soliam then see Tariq as a child of sorts, someone he made, or something greater than himself? Did he mean to do that, to have these two immortals around? What does Tariq learn from the First Scribe?

Group: Tariq & Dalbert Oldheart: Any excuse for Tariq to hang out with the Fates for a little while, and treasure and be treasured by dear Dalbert...

Group: Oralech & Vagabond Girl: after all is said and done, Oralech’s view of the Scribes is probably... understandably... dire. So of course I want to see him talk it out with ae!

Group: Celeste & Ignarius: look, listen, if the various triumvirates just camped out near their respective Scribe’s place during the Nightwings’ years-long absence (not the only possible explanation for how you find them all neatly lined up before the first lib rite, but an explanation nonetheless, I think. just let me have my crack), that means Iggy was Celeste’s neighbor for a long time. Neighborly hijinks please?

Group: Bertrude/Pamitha: Pam returning from her travels, again and again, and finding a home in Bertrude’s lab, finding an understanding there... Bertrude’s attitude being thorny in a way that’s just what Pam needs to allow herself to open up... also: snake kisses.

Group: Volfred Sandalwood/Oralech: waking up and remembering that the mourning that’s set deep in your roots is for someone who never died, waking up and remembering that the bitterness that consumed you had made up a betrayal that never was, finding each other through these crumbling walls...

Molten Milithe: that’s the pov for a love letter to the Downside, right? And/or which Scribe did she bond with the most? Or the least for that matter?

Volfred Sandalwood: catch-all Volf’n’anyone request. I want to see our tree interact with any friend and foe you might fancy! Arguing for his beliefs, being a history professor through and through, finding himself in a tight spot and getting unexpected help, verbally tearing Brighton a new one if they ever cross each other’s path again...

group: Volfred Sandalwood/Tariq | The Lone Minstrel: Volfred’s zodiac sign is Cancer and Cancer is ruled by the Moon, so there’s that. I love how they both hold the other in the highest esteem, especially on Tariq’s part since he’s the immortal Herald of the Scribes and Volfred is, all in all, a history teacher, but listen to him and you’d think the roles were inverted. I love my nonviolent canon but could anything happen to either of them that may require a rescue, and/or some good old-fashioned h/c? What’s something that could make Tariq of all people lose it? How’s life 100 years on?

Shenmue

This game cares for the little things. I’d love to see fanworks that try to out-slice-of-life canon...

Group: Qiu Hsu & Xianzi Bei: cormorant kung fu adventure! Do they hang out sometimes?

Group: Hazuki Ryo & Shenhua Ling: any moment, discussion, small adventure from their travels together! I love their bond! For all its waifufication of Shenhua, S3 really sold me on their friendship and a shared brand of dorkiness. Alternatively, sometimes I remember that they’d be 50ish in the present day - how and where do you picture them?

The Silver Case

I‘m all for the surrealism, big things being introduced and never picked up again, Rashomon’ing it up with six explanations for the same thing where no single one can be true, people dying and then popping up again like nbd... maybe the thing I like the most is characters transcending their humanity and looming over the dystopian world like ominous avatars. Correctness’ first ending had me swooning, that kind of mood is unparalleled. I have played TSC, FSR and 25W so far and have vague memories of K7. I’m aware of the “everything’s connected” readings but that’s not my main interest in these games. For FSR-focused requests, I see Lospass as a real island but also a metaphysical place of transformation first and foremost, where strange things happen that don’t make sense elsewhere.

Group: Toriko Kusabi & Remy Fawzil: What’s Toriko up to when she’s not chasing Chris? I think it could be fun to throw her at Remy and see the island from their point of view!

Group: Tokio Morishima & Edo Macalister: since Tokio stayed at the Flower Sun and Rain... I’m interested in peculiar happenings on Lospass that are not centered on Sumio...

Group: Tetsugorou Kusabi/Sumio Kodai: Tetsu picked one hell of a crush, huh! What’s it like in the aftermath of the games, when Sumio is Like That? How does Tetsu grapple with Parade? Is Tetsu an anchor of sorts for Correctness Sumio, who seems (at best) to be existing on a slightly different plane of existence at any given time and could disappear if you blink too hard?

Group: Tetsugorou Kusabi & Shinko Kuroyanagi: I’m joining the “let these two be foulmouthed friends” masses - who’d be more fed up with the other’s nonsense, and in which ways would they be an unstoppable team?

Group: Shinkai Tsuki & Tetsugorou Kusabi: Both of them end their stories in the shadows one way or another, and defending their protégé may have had a hand in their misfortune one way or another. What kind of understanding could they reach? What IS Tsuki up to anyway?

Group: Christina & Catherine: anthro Catherine, as per the Placebo bonus chapter Yami, was unexpectedly charming. What was Chris before reaching Lospass, and did he also have a chat with her on the plane or on the island?

#letter

1 note · View note

broomballkraken · 5 years ago

Link

Title: Ray of Sunshine

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Pairing: Dedue/Raphael

Word count: 2542

Warnings: None

Summary: When Dedue returned to Dimitri’s side at the Great Bridge of Myrddin, all he cared about was making sure that he could assist in His Highness’s goal of defeating the Empire. The depths of his scars were much deeper than those that now marred his skin, and no one seemed to notice. No one except for Raphael.

The greenhouse had not changed much during the five years of war spanning across Fodlan. Dedue was grateful for that, as he had been slightly worried about its condition after seeing how utterly devastated the cathedral was. The plants seemed to still be thriving; he wondered if Ashe was the one who took care of them in his absence. His thoughts wandered to the past, and he cringed as he picked up a watering can and started to tend to the plants.

Dedue honestly expected to be long dead by now. He was incredibly lucky when the survivors from Duscur rescued him from his impending execution after he took His Majesty’s place. All he had cared about after the fact was reuniting with his lord and serving him the best that he could. Nothing else mattered to him. So why...why did he feel so...incomplete? Hollow? It did not make sense to him.

“Dedue! It’s really you!”

The wind was knocked from Dedue’s lungs as someone large barreled into him from behind, booming laughter echoing throughout the greenhouse. It was a familiar laugh, and Dedue’s eyes widened as a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him off of his feet as he was crushed into a tight bear hug.

“Raphael?” Dedue managed to say when he recovered from the shock. He was set back onto his feet and he turned around, finding Raphael beaming at him. He hadn’t changed much over five years, besides somehow gaining even more muscle and growing out his hair a bit. The sight of his trademark blinding smile rendered him speechless, and a feeling Dedue had not felt in quite some time stirred deep within his chest. Raphael had not been at the battle on the Great Bridge of Myrddin, and when Dedue inquired about it, Ashe had said he had been recovering from a previous injury and could not join the march.

“Yeah! It’s me! I’m so glad to see you. I was really worried when you didn’t show up with the rest of the class.” Raphael said, his smile somehow growing larger as he placed his hands on Dedue’s arms. “Gods, I’m just...so happy to see you!” Dedue was taken aback by Raphael’s exuberant amount of enthusiasm. Dedue had thought that he would have been used to it by now, but being away from his loud, boisterous friend for so long made him forget how much light Raphael had brought to his life.

“I am...happy to see you as well.” Dedue said, a neutral look on his face, even though he desperately wanted to return the smile aimed at him. He wondered why he could not bring himself to smile, when the man that made him the happiest was standing right in front of him. The one who had approached him one day during their time as classmates, without the fear or contempt that many others had held for him, but instead with incredible kindness and warmth. It was an infectious warmth that would continue to grow and grow within Dedue as he and Raphael spent more time together, until Dedue realized too late that the warmth he felt had grown into something more than one would feel for just a friend.

The start of the war had been swift and jarring, and it forced them to part ways before Dedue could tell Raphael how he truly felt about him. Now that he had finally reunited with Raphael, however, Dedue was feeling...hesitant. He felt like a weight was bearing down on his chest, a weight filled with many feelings from these past five years. Those difficult years, filled with pain and worry and sadness and fighting. So, so much death and destruction plagued him, compounded by fearing for his life, and wondering if His Highness and his friends, especially Raphael, were dead and ultimately making his efforts worthless. He felt like he had been slowly suffocating from the crushing weight of his buried, festering feelings.

“Are you okay?”

Dedue was pulled from his thoughts and found Raphael staring at him, his brow furrowed and a rare frown on his face. His honey-colored eyes were filled with concern, and Dedue’s heart felt heavy. A wave of guilt passed through him. Raphael did not need to waste his time worrying about him of all people. Jaw clenched, he steeled the wall surrounding his true feelings and nodded his head slightly. He couldn’t look Raphael in the eye as he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“O-Of course...As long as His Highness is alive and well, I-.” Dedue was interrupted when Raphael made an annoyed huffing noise, shaking his head forcefully as he cut Dedue off.

“Uh, yeah, that’s great and all, but that’s not what I asked. Are you okay, Dedue?” Raphael said, his gentle, non judgmental gaze boring into him, and Dedue felt his throat tighten up as he tried to swallow. His composure started wavering, and he trembled slightly. How could he lie to someone as sincere as Raphael? Dedue did not know what to do. He felt like running away, sprinting straight out of the greenhouse and finding somewhere to hide. A place where Raphael could not bare witness to his weakness, his darkness. Dedue did not want to snuff out the brightest light in his life.

Large, warm hands suddenly closed around his own, and Dedue finally lifted his gaze to Raphael’s. The most beautiful smile greeted him, and Dedue felt tears welling up in his eyes. The wall he had built up was cracking, and it scared him. Dedue let out a shaky breath when Raphael’s hands moved to cup his cheeks, and even though they were calloused from the rigors of battle, they were gentle, warm, and so, so soft.

“You know, Dedue, you don’t have to lie to me. These scars,” Raphael said, his voice dropping in volume as his thumb brushed over the large scar on Dedue’s left cheek, “they’re all new. And I know that a lot of them are not just skin deep.”

Raphael did not need to say more, as the wall finally shattered and Dedue let out a strangled sob, before breaking down completely as tears flooded down his face. His hands moved to cover his face, his entire body trembling with the force of his pent-up anguish.

“I-I am...not okay...Raphael…” Dedue choked out between sobs. Raphael was silent as he wrapped his arms around him, a hand moving to the back of his head. Raphael gently coaxed Dedue’s head down until his face was resting against a broad shoulder. Dedue only sobbed harder, his arms wrapping around Raphael, hands gripping his shirt as if he were hanging on for dear life.

“It’s okay to not be okay, Dedue. Let it out. I’m here. I’m here. It’s okay.” Raphael whispered in Dedue’s ear, and he repeated it like a soothing mantra. It felt like an eternity had passed before Dedue’s sobbing finally slowed, and Raphael patiently held him the entire time, until Dedue took a deep breath and let it out slowly, the last of his tears falling down his face and dripping onto Raphael’s already soaked shirt.

“Feel better?” Raphael said when Dedue slowly lifted his head from his shoulder. Large hands cupped his cheeks again, and Dedue sighed as he nodded slowly. Raphael smiled brightly as he brushed his thumbs over Dedue’s moist and red cheeks, wiping away the remaining tears.

“I’m glad to hear it. Sometimes you just need a good cry to get all those bad feelings out. And...you’ve been through a lot these past five years, right? I was...really worried when you didn’t show up with Dimitri and the Professor and the rest of us.” Raphael continued, a light blush dusting his cheeks, causing Dedue’s brow to furrow in confusion.

“You worried for me?” Dedue asked, and Raphael’s blush only deepened as he averted his gaze, his hands dropping from Dedue’s face as he fiddled with his collar.

“Well, uh, yeah. You see, there was something that I wanted to say to you, but then the war started, and I had to leave to go take care of my sis, and you had to go with Dimitri and before I knew it such a long time had passed and-”

“You are rambling, Raphael.”

“Oh, whoops!” Raphael said, and the slightest of smiles finally graced Dedue’s face again; he could not recall the last time he had really smiled. In fact, Raphael was probably the last person to make him smile, so it was fitting that the same man would help him to smile again.

“Ah, anyway, what I wanted to say to you is that, uh...Well, you see…” Raphael said, and Dedue waited patiently, watching fondly as the object of his affection struggled to get to the point.

“I just...I really like you, Dedue!” Raphael finally blurted out, his arms waving dramatically in front of him to drive his point home. Dedue stared at him, eyes wide and jaw hanging slightly open. He what?

“I-I’ve liked you for a really long time, but before I could work up the courage to tell you, it was too late!” Raphael continued, “I...was really scared that I would never see you again...never getting the chance to tell you how I really felt.” A sad look appeared in Raphael’s eyes, and Dedue’s smile grew as he listened to the rest of Raphael’s confession.

“You’re just...a really awesome person! You’ve always been the type to help people out, even to the people who would say unkind things about. I was always so happy being your friend, and just being around you. You’re brave and strong and kind and fun and a good cook and...you’re really handsome too!” Raphael gushed, his voice raising in volume as he spoke. Dedue’s eyes somehow widened even more, and his face flushed a bright red in color at the total sincerity of Raphael’s words. He was stunned into silence, and Raphael nervously rung his hands together.

“So, uh, what do you think? Do you, um, like me back?” Raphael asked, swallowing nervously as he waited for Dedue to speak with bated breath. Dedue snapped out of his daze and a wide smile broke out over his face, and it was probably the biggest smile he had ever wore.

“Raphael,” Dedue finally said as he reached out and took Raphael’s hands in his. He noticed that they were shaking slightly, and Dedue chuckled and gave them a gentle squeeze. “I do not know how anyone could not develop feelings for you. You are the most kindhearted and loving man that I have ever met. You are...like a ray of sunshine. You spread warmth wherever you go, and you light up every room that you enter. You have certainly become the brightest light in my life. It was...so dark in these long, long years without you.” Dedue paused when he noticed that Raphael was gawking at him, his jaw hanging open and eyes bugged out. He chuckled and brought one of Raphael’s hands up to his face.

“Raphael, I adore you.” Dedue said, his seafoam eyes locked with those honey-colored ones he loved so much, and he pressed his lips to the back of Raphael’s hand in a lingering kiss. Dedue laughed when Raphael made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, his mouth opening and closing rapidly like he was a fish out of water gasping for air.

“Y-You really mean it?” he finally managed to blurt out, and Dedue nodded, a large hand moving to cup Raphael’s cheek.

“Yes, of course.”

“Yes! Yes yes yes!” Raphael exclaimed, letting out an excited ‘whoop’ as he wrapped his arms around Dedue and lifted him off of his feet again, his laughter echoing throughout the greenhouse. Dedue’s laughter joined in, and when he was set back onto his feet, Raphael’s arms stayed securely around him.

“I adore you too, Dedue!” Raphael continued, and Dedue smiled fondly at him. “Not only that, but I love you! This is the best day ever!” Dedue laughed once more and nodded.

“I agree, on both accounts. I love you as well, Raphael.” he said as he gently caressed Raphael’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“Ah, I’m so happy!” Raphael said, his smile turning shy as his eyes locked with Dedue’s. “Hey, Dedue? Can I, um, kiss you?” Dedue’s heartbeat quickened at the question, but he smiled and nodded.

“Of course. I would like that.”

Raphael beamed at him, and his hands moved to cup Dedue’s face as he slowly leaned up, pressing his lips to Dedue’s in a gentle kiss. Their first kiss. Dedue felt giddy at the thought, and it was an odd feeling for him, but certainly not a bad one. He smiled against Raphael’s lips as they both moved their heads to try and deepen the kiss. It took a moment to find a rhythm, with their combined inexperienced hindering them, but after Raphael pulled away for a moment to let out a sheepish giggle, they kissed again. This time their lips fit together perfectly, like it really was meant to be.

As they lost themselves in their intimate embrace, a warmth spread through Dedue’s chest. He never thought that he could find such happiness, with someone who loved him unconditionally. Someone who Dedue loved just as much. Life had been so, so hard for him, but it seemed that things would finally be looking up. Even though there was still a war to be fought, Dedue knew that he could face any challenge with Raphael at his side.

When they finally pulled apart to catch their breaths and to gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, the moment was interrupted when a loud growling noise filled the room.

“Whoops!” Raphael said, his face flushing as he rubbed at his stomach. “All of this confessing feelings and stuff made me really hungry!” Dedue blinked at him, and he suddenly burst out laughing so hard that tears started running down his face.

“You...you really have not changed a bit, Raphael.” Dedue said, and he raised an eyebrow when Raphael pouted at him.

“Hey, I’ve changed a lot! Just look at how big my muscles have gotten!” he said, flexing his arms for Dedue, who laughed again and shook his head.

“Ah, my mistake. You certainly do look stronger, my sunshine.” Dedue said, and Raphael beamed as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Ah, gods, you’re embarrassing me, Dedue.” Raphael said as he slipped his hand into Dedue’s, entwining their fingers together. “C’mon, love! Let’s go get some food!” He tugged at Dedue’s arm, who chuckled and let himself be pulled towards the door.

“Of course, darling.” Dedue said, blushing as Raphael paused to lean up and kiss his cheek. This day, Dedue was able to walk away from the darkness that had plagued him for so long, in the rays of sunshine that led to a brighter future. Yes, the future looked bright indeed...and it was all thanks to Raphael, Dedue’s own personal ray of sunshine.

#fire emblem three houses #dedue molinaro #raphael kirsten #dedue/raphael #raphadue #fanfiction #jade writes fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

maybeformepersonally · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: Try new things?

Title: Try new things? Author: maybeformepersonally Rating: E / Explicit Summary: Trying new things doesn't always come easy, but it certainly can have its perks. Word Count: 3527 Author’s Note: This is a (belated) birthday gift for the lovely @filisaceaf! Darling, you are a delight to know, and I hope you are having the best birthday week of your life yet (hey, if Phil can have birthday weeks so can we, right?) You make being in this trash fandom a much more enjoyable experience, and I selfishly hope I can count you as a friend for many years to come <3 Warnings: None

Read on AO3

The quiff

The decision to get rid of his fringe was harder than it should had been.

Phil had been talking it over with Dan for at least a year before he dared to finally do it.

It all boiled down to his fear that his fringe was too iconic, too integral a part of his branding, and what if changing it was a terrible business move? What if his hair was the source of his power, like some weird modern day Samson?

Dan kept telling him he would and did look great with a quiff, and even if he got one bad haircut, it wasn’t the end of the world, hair grew back and people wouldn’t stop watching him over that. But Phil still worried. He knew it wasn’t entirely rational, but his appearance played a key role in his job, and he did depend financially on people watching his videos and buying his merch.

So he eased into it.

He kept the fringe for videos and public appearances, but he started wearing it differently at home. Just to try it out. He styled it out of his forehead and tried giving it some volume, and it worked out pretty well. He liked it. He liked that he had both options open, either leaving the fringe down or styling it up into a quiff. It felt safer than jumping off the deep end with a more radical change he might regret and then would be stuck having to deal with.

It turned out to be the right choice, because wearing his hair up in a quiff sometimes turned into wearing it into a quiff all the time off-camera, which got him so accustomed to it that it started to feel natural, and styling it down into the fringe started to feel weird and contrived. It made the final step - finally getting a haircut specifically to wear as a quiff - feel organic and right, a small step rather than the extremely radical change it had felt like at the beginning.

And his viewers actually liked it! It was a relief, as he couldn’t imagine going back at that point.

He was even more pleased to find out that Dan really, really liked it.

Dan had liked it when Phil started wearing his hair differently around the house. He hadn't made a big deal out of it, because he knew Phil and his anxiety intimately well by now, and he was a sweetheart who overthought everything and would never purposefully make another person self-conscious, least of all his favourite person in the world, so he played it cool. He did comment on how he liked it, and Phil caught him staring a few times, but when caught Dan just smiled at him, or gave him one of those cheeky suggestive grins that always got under Phil’s skin in the best of ways, or he complimented Phil’s shiny pale forehead (this happened several times, the dork).

As it got more and more common for Phil to wear his hair in a quiff, Dan started bringing up the subject, always full of patience and understanding, always encouraging. Well, almost always, Dan was only human and he had bad days, too. Phil had fond memories of the one time Dan had been so done with him for wanting to change his hair but being too scared to actually do it that he’d resorted to pontificating about how great Phil looked, how could he think anyone wouldn’t like it, he was so fit, what was he thinking, and so on. It had ended up with Dan pushing him down to sit on his lap, slipping one of his hands down into his pants and pumping his cock fast and hard while he told him just how much he liked various physical attributes of his in a low, sultry voice and watched him come apart under his ministrations. He hadn’t let Phil kiss him while he did it because he wanted to watch him, he’d said. And he had. Watched. Intently.

It hadn’t really undone the knot of anxiety in his head, but it had helped.

And it made for a lovely fantasy to come back to when they were apart.

Eventually, it happened, right in the middle of the exhausting preparations for their second tour, Phil made the decision to cut his hair. Not just wear it up, but actually get a haircut specifically to wear as a quiff. He was pretty happy with the results.

He posted a picture online, and it was a roaring success, which calmed the worries that persisted in the back of his mind, and just like that, it was done.

It was only a few weeks after his haircut, they had carved out a full hour and a half to relax and do nothing after dinner, maybe watch a movie before they had to turn in to get enough sleep to hopefully fuel them through another intense 12-hour workday of setting up, rehearsing and fine-tuning the show, not to mention making far too many little decisions about literally everything. People didn’t talk enough about how exhausting it was to make decisions constantly, and these were decisions that would shape their show, which they had been working on for so long and wanted so bad to make the best they could. Phil was grateful every day that Dan was right there alongside him, he didn’t think he could be doing this alone.

It had been a good day, despite the tiredness wearing down on them both. They’d been vlogging all week for a video that they’d be posting some time the following week to promote the show, and even though there was still a lot to get done, it seemed the worst of it was behind them and this huge project of theirs was actually going to work out fine after all. Dan was no longer feeling (too) overwhelmed by it, and Phil had officially crossed the threshold from scared to excited.

Of course, despite plans to relax and put work aside for the evening, they really couldn’t help themselves from talking about it. They ended up lounging in their living room sofa and shuffling around ideas and expectations, their hopes and fears for the coming tour.

Phil was babbling, jumping from subject to subject as he often did, going through different details from parts of the show and laying out his thoughts in a jumble that would be hard for someone who wasn’t familiar with him to follow. He never had to make an effort to spell out his thoughts for Dan, he’d been able to follow Phil’s ramblings almost from day one. As it was, Phil was caught up enough on his own train of thought, and his excitement for the coming months, that it took him a while to notice the way Dan was staring at him.

Dan stared at him all the time, of course. It had stopped being something that made him feel embarrassed or self-conscious years ago, although it still caught him off guard sometimes. It still made him blush sometimes, made him want to hide his face behind whatever was at hand, bashful even after all these years. But that was rare. Mostly it filled him with a slow, treacly feeling of warmth; it made his chest coil and his stomach flutter.

Dan had always spent an inordinate amount of time looking at him, yes, but ever since Phil had finally decided to cut his hair a few weeks ago, it had become ridiculous. Dan was ridiculous, staring at him like that, with such painfully obvious affection that it made Phil bashful. Dan, this breathtakingly beautiful man, with his warm eyes and soft, puffy lips, and his lovely cheek “deficiencies”; Dan, who could charm anyone, who had a way of drawing eyes wherever he went; Dan, who at 26 was every bit as irresistible to Phil as he had been as a gorgeous, nervous teen taking a wild chance. This Dan, Phil’s Dan, had never quite broken the habit of staring at Phil, but lately it was less like he was indulging in it and more like he physically couldn’t stop himself.

Phil raised an eyebrow at him.

Then raised the other one.

Then he waggled them.

Dan burst out laughing. Success!, though Phil triumphantly.

“You really like it this much?” Phil asked, running a hand through his hair.

He was expecting a “yes”. He was expecting a heated look, a flirtatious remark, a teasing touch. Maybe a kiss.

Instead, Dan held his gaze, tender, enamoured, and softly said, “I like you.”

It wasn’t often these days that Dan could make him blush. But it still happened sometimes.

The stubble

He’d been thinking about it for ages.

He wasn’t sure if he’d like it, could he even pull it off? He was curious.

He liked how he looked clean-shaven, so he’d probably not change his everyday look. But it would be nice to feel comfortable with not shaving when he was really busy (or really lazy).

If he was being honest, he was more worried about what his audience would think of it, he knew how much they can dislike change. And he often wonders if all of them would still watch him if the professional lights and carefully chosen camera angles didn’t make him look younger.

Less pressing but even more important to him was the question of what Dan would think of it. Phil knows Dan would never ask him to change something about himself, but if Dan didn’t like it there was no way in hell that Phil would want to keep it. Some might say that was unhealthy, or wrong, or inadvisable, but Phil didn’t care about any of that. He’d been shaving this long, and he liked how he looked without facial hair, to continue shaving would be no hardship and he still, after all these years, wanted to look good for his partner. If Dan had a preference, Phil would want to indulge him. They were both like that.

Phil smiled a secret little smile whenever he was reminded of a much younger Dan grudgingly giving his natural curls free reign as a gift to Phil on certain special occasions - or sometimes just because. Just because “I love you”. Just because “I like to spoil you”. Just because “I know how much you enjoy it, you weirdo,” said with a happy, dimpled smile and soft eyes that always made Phil melt, without exception.

So if Dan didn’t like it, he’d most likely scrap it. If his audience didn’t like it… well, he’d have to be careful to shave before videos and liveshows and any kind of public appearance (not that there were many of those, thank god, he’d got a better handle on his anxiety over the years, but it could still be exhausting). But he was still curious to try it out. He’d been turning it over in his head for ages before he finally made the decision.

As it turns out, he needn’t have worried.

Dan liked it.

Not just liked it, but liked it.

The first day he forewent shaving yielded no visible results and so life went on as normal.

The second day it just looked like barely there five o’clock shadow, and them making out lazily on the sofa had somehow devolved into Dan rubbing his own cheek against Phil’s because he said he liked the feeling. It had made Phil laugh, amused, yeah, but also happy that he had a person, that he had this specific person, who he was so close with that they could be weird and silly together without a care in the world. They could do and say bizarre or absurd things and trust that the other would just go with it, maybe they’d have to endure some light-hearted teasing for it, but even that felt like a blessing most days. Dan always looked so fond when he poked fun at him.

The third day, there was the beginnings of visible stubble, but they were so busy that Phil actually mostly forgot about it, focused as he was on everything they had to get done, and by the time they were finished they were both so exhausted they just collapsed in bed and went directly to sleep.

The fourth day, though. The fourth day was. Eventful.

Phil woke up first, to his slight disappointment, and he got up to the siren song of the coffeemaker resonating through his veins.

He was on his second cup when Dan joined him, looking sleep soft and ruffled in his oversized t-shirt and fuzzy slippers, long legs bare to the slightly chill air of the morning.

Phil did not get to finish his second cup of coffee that morning.

He was very much okay with that.

Having a sleepy Dan burrow into his arms and leaving soft kisses all over his jaw that turned to playful nips that turned to Dan grabbing his face to lick into his mouth was a very nice way to start the day, and you would hear no complaints from Phil about it.

Phil, distracted by Dan’s pretty lips and big, clever hands and still only about 36% awake, failed to connect the dots until after Dan had peeled most of Phil’s clothes off him, hands running over Phil’s bare chest, and had gone back to bite his jaw.

Dan liked his jaw, but he didn’t normally give it this much attention.

“Oh,” Phil said.

“Hmm…” Dan hummed, causing vibrations to travel up the side of his face he was nibbling on, then licked a stripe up his neck, all the way to his chin. It should have been weird, but Phil had never concerned himself with weird when something felt good, and Dan’s tongue on him felt fantastic. “I want to feel the scratch all over,” Dan said softly into his cheek. The words suddenly opened up a whole new genre of fantasies in Phil’s mind. Dan’s effect on him had always been remarkable.

Dan was back to kissing him before Phil recovered from this revelation, sucking gently on his tongue one second and biting on his bottom lip the next, exactly as hard as Phil liked it, one hand running down his spine, slow but with intent, tracing the curve of his ass and squeezing. Phil let out a soft moan and rubbed up against him, chest bare against Dan’s thin t-shirt. They had moved automatically to line up their cocks together as they kissed against the kitchen counter, so in tune with each other’s bodies after all these years, and Phil could feel Dan hardening against him. He loved that, had always loved that, there was something so intimate about being able to track his partner’s desire this way, to get to partake in the experience with them.

Dan dragged his mouth down to his neck, wet and sloppy and leaving a burning trail with his tongue, and he sucked, hard enough that Phil wasn’t sure he wouldn’t leave a mark, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh and making Phil’s knees weak. And as he did this, he moved the hand grabbing one of his asscheeks possessively down to Phil’s thigh and lifted it until Phil instinctively wrapped it around him, and he moved his hips in maddening tight little circles that were shooting sparks under his skin, and Phil wanted to touch skin, wanted it now, so he grabbed a handful of oversized t-shirt and pulled, and pulled, until the fabric had bunched up in between their chests, and Phil could feel the soft skin of Dan’s bare stomach against his own, and Dan’s bare cock rubbing against Phil’s where it was still trapped in his pants. Phil was whining a little, the combination of Dan’s far too clever mouth on his neck and Dan draped all over him, the intoxicating way they moved together, then Dan reached between them with the hand that wasn’t holding Phil’s thigh firmly in place around him and in a practised move he had pulled Phil’s leaking cock from the confines of the tight, restrictive fabric and just like that he was stroking them together, tight and slick in his big hand, the slide made easier by the precome sliding down their cocks, and before long they were thrusting up into Dan’s fist in a perfect rhythm.

One of Phil’s hands was holding on to Dan’s back for leverage as they rutted against each other right there, under the brightness of the morning sun against the shiny kitchen they had both liked so much when they first visited this house looking to rent, and the great acoustics of the room meant that all their little sounds of pleasure felt a little too loud, and the too bright light coming in through the huge glass door made Phil feel a little too exposed, made this feel wonderfully dirty, and then Dan let go of his neck with a little pop that drew a thrill down Phil’s spine because that felt amazing, and there was no way Dan had been careful enough, he knew he was going to find a purple bruise on his neck when he checked later.

Dan sucked on his earlobe, kissed right under it wetly in that one spot he knew made Phil all tingly, and then said right next to his ear, “You’re so hot. I can’t wait to sit on your face later,” he was interrupted by a little moan, god Phil loved every little sound Dan made during sex, they never failed to make his cock twitch with want and now was no exception.

“Yeah? You gonna let me eat you out later?” Phil was surprised how hoarse he sounded, voice tight and breathless with how close he was to coming all over Dan’s fist and Dan’s cock and Dan’s soft, pliant stomach. “You wanna see how the burn feels there? On your inner thighs? How it feels around your hole while my tongue pushes inside?”

Dan whined, high and desperate and seconds later he was coming in his hand, still thrusting maddeningly against him. Phil could feel Dan’s cock twitch against his own, could feel his come hit their stomachs and spill down to where his hand was still tugging on both their cocks, and the sounds and the suddenly slicker slide and the fantasy running through Phil’s mind, overimposed to this reality that was just as erotic as the thought of spreading Dan open with his tongue and leaving stubble burn between his cheeks, the fact that Dan hadn’t stopped moving his hand even though he must be starting to feel oversensitive by now, it all coalesced together to wring a very intense orgasm out of him, which had Phil adding into the mess on their stomachs and groins less than a minute after Dan.

Dan milked every last tendril of pleasure out of him, and then gently guided his leg to the ground. And they stood there, messy and a little high on hormones as they caught their breath, hanging off each other. Seems they’d be taking a shower before Phil got to finish breakfast.

He wrapped both arms around Dan’s broad back and squeezed him in a weak bear hug. He looked so pretty like this, the skin around his mouth looked tender, a bit red from Dan kissing all over his face and rubbing his own face against Phil’s stubble. His face was flushed and his hair was a mess, lips a dark pink and so shiny Phil wanted to kiss them forever. He indulged himself in planting one short but heartfelt kiss on them, making Dan smile, and he nuzzled their noses together, feeling euphoric and drunk on love.

“So I take it you like the stubble, then?”

That earned him a proper, too loud laugh from Dan. Phil would never get enough of Dan laughing like this, so sincere and carefree, with deep dimples and crinkly eyes and a happiness that reached his eyes. “Yes, Phil, I like it,” he pronounced once he had finished laughing, a wide grin still on his face and audible on his words.

Phil was grinning just as wide, arms full of the man he loved and endorphins still rushing through his system.

“But we need to shower now. And then breakfast. And then and only then will I tell you more about how much I like your stubble, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Phil was smiling too wide, too open, too happy. “Okay.”

“Come on, we’re disgusting,” Dan said, but he wasn’t bothered. It was just the usual banter. Phil knew all of Dan’s hard limits and dislikes, and he knew Dan didn’t really mind them standing half naked and covered in drying come in their too bright kitchen.

He had a point, though. And so Phil let himself be pulled to their main bathroom for a joint shower.

And as he let Dan gently wash the soap off him, he let himself think about later, and how he might use this newfound, unexpected advantage to give Dan everything he wanted, and then some.

#phanfic #phan #am i writing now #beware the smut #i blame this on phil for being an absolute snack

25 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 6 years ago

Text

RWBY Recap: Volume 6 Episode 9 “Lost”

Welcome to Volume 6, Episode 9 where “Lost” truly encompasses all of my feelings today! Sorry for the late recap, but let’s not waste anymore time.

We open on Emerald and Mercury as they hang out in Salem’s palace, the woman in question nowhere to be found. She’s probably still off seething over Ozpin’s latest reincarnation. There’s some pretty heavy symbolism attached to how each character navigates the room: Mercury energetic and full of purpose as he trains in the open space; Emerald static and curled in on herself on the floor. She admits that she hates “being in the dark like this” and Mercury agrees. Cinder was annoying, but at least she kept them both filled in.

Of course she did, because Cinder craves power in a way Salem doesn’t. She wants a particular type of submission tied up in validation. Qrow reminds us in Volume Four that Salem keeps to the sidelines. She’s—to borrow our Wizard of Oz vernacular—the man behind the curtain, happy to pull strings that lead to everyone pointing accusingly at one another, with no inkling that someone more powerful is really to blame. Can we picture Cinder laying out plans that didn’t result in her taking credit for the plot? I can’t. She needs to be in the thick of things, monologuing her victories, and by extension she has a closer relationship with her pawns than Salem ever will, by pure necessity. Cinder would have eaten up the kind of attention from Tyrian that Salem brushes aside unless acknowledging it directly suits her purpose. It’s that faux intimacy that’s convinced Emerald they have a real connection.

With these kinds of thoughts on her mind, Emerald asks Mercury why he bothered to come with them all those years ago. He reveals that his father was an assassin, trained him to be the same, and the night he manages to kill him a group comes along that just happens to need his particular type of expertise? “Just felt like it was meant to be.”

Emerald: “That’s it?”

I agree. Though Mercury is by far the more convinced of the two, he’s still demonstrating the same lack of clear convictions that our heroes have been grappling with. You signed your life over to this war because a bunch of strangers happened to be passing by? That sort of coincidental justification can’t sustain itself. Even Pyrrha’s firm belief in destiny grew shaky once she was faced with a truly difficult decision and Mercury has had pretty smooth sailing lately, especially compared to the life he had with his father. He beat up a bookseller, framed Yang, helped destroy Beacon, had a minor role at the Haven battle, and has been hanging in the palace ever since. He’s actually been doing pretty well, especially since losing Cinder is no real blow to him, so why wouldn’t he think he made the right choice to impulsively follow her and Emerald when they met? The problem is, these victories won’t last. What’s Mercury going to do when his “it just felt like it was meant to be” collides head on with a truly difficult situation… like oh, say, having Salem turn that anger on him as an abuse survivor? As others have already pointed out, Mercury was pretty damn spooked by her reaction to the news about Oz and saw it coming far faster than the other characters. One of these days he’s going to realize that it’s not going to be continuous smooth sailing to Salem’s new world where he’s a top dog no one can touch. Then he’ll have a choice to make.

Of course, Tyrian is already anticipating that. Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether you ever discover those true convictions. Even if Mercury some day realizes he wants to get out from underneath Salem’s thumb, good luck with that. Hello, difference between her and Ozpin. Ozpin let’s people leave, no matter the cost to himself and the war effort. I doubt Salem provides such luxuries.

Emerald tries to get Mercury to understand how her motivations were tied up entirely with Cinder: “[She] was the only family I ever had. She cared about me…” Mercury interrupts with the cruel truth that no, she doesn’t care about either of them, and Emerald is so enraged that she attacks.

You can easily see her heart isn’t in it though. In a nice parallel to Oscar’s line at the end of the episode, she’s been worrying about the exact same stuff. After her initial attack Emerald is barely keeping her fists up and backs off as Mercury starts advancing on her.

He brings up an interesting conundrum: is it worse to have been denied the love of a parent, or to experience the hatred of another? Of course, the truth is that both are horrendous, but Mercury is clearly of the mind that his trauma trumps Emerald’s. Surprisingly calm while also housing great fury, he reveals that some semblances can apparently steal others. At least I’m assuming this power came from his father’s own semblance. Whatever it was (omg tell us lol) apparently made Mercury “weak” in his eyes and after taking it he said he could get it back when he proved he was “strong.” Well, Mercury proved his strength by killing his father, but he didn’t get his semblance back. So it apparently doesn’t revert back after death.

Before things can get anymore heated Tyrian sneaks creepily out of the shadows. His usual entrance. The highlight of his hastily justified visit—just saying goodbye!—is the reveal of his new tail. Did he have the rest of his tail removed? I’m assuming that only the end is new with the rest of his tail just encased in that armor. Later we can clearly see a drop of his poison on the tip (along with the purple visible on the underside) so I suspect in order to create an apparatus that could draw it out again they’d have to keep the rest of the limb. Regardless, it’s too bad for our heroes. It looked like Ruby had done some permanent damage back in Volume Four.

I’m actually rather fascinated by how RWBY treats its disabled characters. There’s a very heavy focus on the psychological trauma as opposed to the physical. Meaning, once the character “gets over” the injury (I use that awful phrase not literally, but just to describe the moment when the arc focused on their injury is complete and the narrative needs to move on) the focus then segues to how much stronger they are now. Again, physically if not mentally. Mercury’s legs are now more powerful than the average human’s, as is half of James’s body, Yang’s arm, Tyrian seems to be able to do everything he previously could with his tail, except now it won’t be so easy to slice through it with a scythe. We also get moments where the act of being disabled is the factor that tips the scales: such as when Yang detaches her arm to get into the vault. On the one hand this is an incredibly positive and potentially inspiring trend. On the other hand real life disabilities sometimes still suck in a way that really isn’t portrayed here, especially since everyone has access advanced tech to “fix” the problem. Yang is right. There’s a part of her missing that she’ll never get back, but that doesn’t change the fact that her new arm is portrayed as more powerful and versatile than her original could ever hope to be. Putting aside the trauma of losing it for a moment, the fact that she’s missing an arm is itself no longer presented as a disability.

I’d actually like to see more moments where the tech isn’t portrayed as such an easy fix: Someone doesn’t have the money to get fancy Atlas stuff, Yang’s arm breaks down in the middle of a fight, whatever dispenses Tyrian’s poison jams up, someone with a tech or metal-based semblance gets a huge advantage when they realize a bunch of the allies are reliant on metal limbs, etc. AKA, more like Fullmetal Alchemist where disabilities are both an asset (I always have a weapon on hand!) as well as a hindrance (…that often gets destroyed) depending on the situation. I think the closest we get is with Maria. Losing color meant that she didn’t pick up on Ruby’s eyes until the very last moment, putting them in more danger. Beyond that she says her specs need a tuneup, but so far we haven’t seen any downsides to not getting them upgraded.

ANYWAY. I should get back to the actual episode…

Tyrian points out that Mercury is too afraid to leave the pain and violence that he’s always known and Mercury gives the expected line that Tyrian doesn’t know anything about him. Makes me wonder what Tyrian’s past was like and why this conversation out of them all would bring out his more philosophical side.

We see more of Emerald’s need to hang onto what little family she has left. Despite attacking Mercury just moments before she lets out a furious, “Hey!” when Tyrian pins him and uses “we” when asking whether they’re just supposed to leave, despite the fact that Mercury has expressed zero interest in considering that option. Emerald considers them a set and, like with Cinder, is projecting more love than might actually be there. She expects that if she leaves, Mercury will follow.

Boy, that might be another kick in the teeth if it ever came down to it…

Tyrian gets his line about how they should love what they do… but ultimately you don’t have much of a choice. Not when Salem is involved. Watts appears reeeeeal far back to let him know it’s time to leave for Atlas.

Could you be more dramatic?

With the ominous knowledge that literally every semi-notable character is heading to Atlas, we cut to JNR looking for Oscar. Jaune gets some excellent lines here:

“This is all my fault. I overreacted…he didn’t do anything wrong.”

Damn straight. Most of the fandom was willing to absolve Jaune the moment he showed a guilty look, but in this volume particularly looking guilty isn’t the same thing as an apology and a change in behavior. Qrow hasn’t apologized to the group yet. The group hasn’t apologized to Ozpin. There’s been a lot of shots of people looking regretful, but not doing much to act on that regret. Given this theme I wouldn’t have been surprised if Jaune hung onto his anger and tried to justify his reaction… but he didn’t and I’m so glad to see this glimmer of maturity, especially coming from one of the more violent characters this volume. He’s doing everything right here: being frank about his mistakes and responsibility, implying that it won’t happen again, apologizing the moment he sees Oscar. Good job, Jaune.

We see how with a few hours to calm down JNR is totally on board with continuing the mission. They’re concerned about what they’ll do, not whether they’ll do anything at all. “It’s going to be a lot harder than we thought” implies that they’ll be continuing the fight and Nora and Ren are back to their endlessly optimistic selves. Honestly… while I’m glad to see this characterization in general, it feels cheap after last episode. As said, RT has given everyone an identical reaction to the information about Salem, undermining their individual temperaments and outlooks, all so we can build up this hatred of Ozpin. But if you’re going to give characters unlikely reactions (like Nora going full pessimism) at least commit to it. By skipping over their thought process and discussion, by jumping straight back to, ‘Of course we’ll fight!’ it paints their original reactions as inauthentic. Nora isn’t really doubting whether all their work meant something, Ren isn’t really mad at the rest of the group, Jaune doesn’t really think Ozpin has taken over Oscar—those emotions were just tools to fuel the drama of one scene. And yeah, some people will read that as a legitimate response to getting horrifying news. I personally don’t. That scene could have achieved everything it needed to without making JNR a carbon-copy of RWBY in their grief.

We also get another example of how the team is happy to keep secrets when it serves their own purposes—“I know, I know. Top secret”—and how less stock they put in the traditional huntsmen lifestyle now. Saphron says that if they’re not sure what to do they can always get their licenses and help out in Argus. “There’s a lot of good you can do here” and this is juxtaposed with images of safe and smiling people who only have that happiness because of the everyday huntsmen doing their work. Saphron points out that they don’t have to be the ones to complete this mission and “it’s not the only mission that needs doing.” She doesn’t have any of the details… but she’s right. Someone needs to get the relic to safety, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be 10+ people. If anyone has doubts about continuing the fight against Salem specifically, now’s the time to bow out, especially since not being committed is dangerous to everyone else. It’s what Ozpin said back in Volume 5: abstaining isn’t anything to be ashamed of, but you’ll reach a point where you can’t retreat.

This suggestion is brushed off though and I don’t think it’s because JNR has some inspiring drive to face Salem no matter the cost. It’s because everything else still feels ‘useless.’ It’s hard to learn about the Big Bad and then go back to fighting the small fry, even though that’s primarily what keeps Salem at bay. Fighting grimm, bandits, her subordinates, promoting peace… these are the things that keep her from getting a foothold. JNR may be willing to continue to Atlas, but they haven’t quite acknowledged yet that this war doesn’t always have straight-forward quests for them, the heroes, to complete. Secure the relic! Kill Salem! I mean this will never happen because it’s a show and we need plot, but in-world it’s totally possible that after Atlas the thing to do is just the sort of stuff Saphron suggests. Salem’s plans are usually years in the making and we can’t go kill her… so I guess all we can do now is go back to being just huntsmen.

I hope RWBY addresses this pseudo-superiority that’s developing; the idea that their group always has to be on The Mission To Save The World. I just want someone to acknowledge again that keeping magical relics safe is important… but so is, say, saving a random village from their geist grimm. The world needs both.

Which brings us to Pyrrha.

(Ah, look at that Volume 1 opening callback.)

Ren and Nora try to cheer Jaune up with drinks at a cafe (coffee! shop! a! u!) but he hangs back on a bench. Everyone’s heart rips out when a familiar leaf drifts by and lead’s Jaune to Pyrrha’s statue…

Let me be clear here. I love the emotion of this scene. I love that JNR finally got to have this conversation. The only thing I don’t love is how heavily it pushes the idea that it’s noble to die even when you didn’t have to, even when it accomplishes precisely nothing.

Woman: “[Pyrrha] understood that she had a responsibility to try… I don’t think she would regret her choice, because a huntress would understand that there really wasn’t a choice to make. And a huntress was what she’d always wanted to be.”

This viewpoint makes sense for whoever this woman is, Pyrrha’s mom, her older sister, etc. Of course that’s how she’s going to rationalize the tragedy, especially when she presumably doesn’t know the details of Pyrrha’s death. I truly doubt anyone from Beacon told her Pyrrha went off after someone who she knew she’d lose against and died uselessly. But JNR and the narrative itself? They can afford to be more critical.

Of course there was a choice to make. If Pyrrha was here she SHOULD regret the choice she made! There was no reason for Pyrrha to die. She didn’t die out of ignorance by underestimating her enemy. She didn’t die to save someone else’s life. She didn’t die to buy someone time. RWBY was careful to make sure that Pyrrha’s death served absolutely no purpose and has brought only hardship to those around her. That was her fatal flaw—fighting for the sake of fighting—and Ruby at least recognizes this as something they need to learn from. JNR? Apparently not. They parrot the woman’s words and talk about how they “have to try,” clearly conflating Pyrrha’s situation with Salem’s immortality, but they’re in no way the same thing. They actually don’t have a choice when it comes to Salem because the only other option here is death/enslavement for all of humanity. You know what other choice Pyrrha had though? Listening to her headmaster, not throwing her life away, sparing her friends their grief, and living to do more good later on. I’m used to the fandom endlessly twisting Pyrrha’s death into something inevitable (Ozpin manipulated her!) or something purely noble (she was so close to beating Cinder!), but I didn’t expect the show to do the same thing. It’s a disservice to her character to pretend that she didn’t have any faults… and that one of those faults got her killed.

So yeah. The lessons in general are important ones, just not when they’re applied to this specific context. Regardless, it solidifies their feelings that they’ll continue on to Atlas and after some more apologies from Jaune for being a “terrible leader” and friend, they decide to head back to the house. Jaune takes one more look at Pyrrha’s statue with an airship flying overhead, a very non-romantic choice that won’t make sense until the end of the episode.

After all that emotional upheaval we cut to Ruby. Looking like this:

This child is so fucking done.

I suppose the one silver lining is that Qrow managed to make it back to the house before he passed out? Yang comments that she’s “never seen him this bad” as these poor kids drag him back onto his feet. As Ruby angrily fills him in about Oscar being missing Jaune goes, “Don’t worry. We’re not going to Atlas without him.”

Ruby: “We? :D”

As everyone basks in their newfound determination, the door opens to shed some literal light on them all. Our farm boy is there, safe, sound, and sporting new digs.

Oscar: “Oh. I was wondering when you’d get back.”

I know I joked last time about how Oscar probably just went for a walk since everyone agreed to take time to themselves, but RT could have given us some indication of where he went, what he did (besides shopping), what he thought… basically anything that would show us some actual development, rather than having it all happen off screen. Like Nora, Ren, and Jaune suddenly 100% on board after their pessimism last episode, we completely skip over Oscar’s thought process. We don’t get to see how he went from this

to this.

The fact that this time skip proceeds Jaune’s apology makes it a highly uncomfortable scene—for me at least. Because Oscar went from flinching in his company to making them all dinner and interrupting Jaune before he can even finish, claiming it’s fine because he’s had the same worries. In short, it feels like Oscar is the one apologizing here because we haven’t gotten any insight into what else might explain this sudden mood change. He’s a “like minded” soul to Ozpin though and Ozpin blames himself for everything. So Oscar watches how no one gives a damn if he’s okay after Jaune assaults him and, instead of being angry at them for that, makes everyone casserole with the hope that they’ll be pleased with that gesture. He doesn’t let Jaune take full responsibility for his actions or complete his apology because Oscar thinks that reaction was justified. Oscar implicitly apologizes for making them worry all day even though he had every right to leave. He talks about himself like he’s dying—“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be me”—and instead of being upset about that anymore he says that he’s going to help others with “whatever time I have left.”

Oscar is doing exactly what Ozpin did a few episodes ago, trying to please those around him instead of calling them out on their shitty behavior. For Ozpin it was giving them a life without him; for Oscar it’s playing the supportive outsider who’s determined to not be a burden. He can’t help that he’s merging with Ozpin, but he can be better prepared for their next battle (combat gear), take care of little things he has control over (dinner), and accept their apologies instantly with a smile. He’s not giving them any reason to hate him anymore than he thinks they already do.

If this is at all a reflection of how Ozpin’s comeback will go, it’s not a good sign in my opinion. I’m still worried that Ozpin will be the one apologizing and will just brush off any half-hearted apologies he gets in turn.

Of course, a big portion of the fandom is theorizing that this isn’t Oscar at all, but rather Ozpin controlling him. I’m not buying that theory right now. Mostly because Ozpin wouldn’t do that. We just watched Jaune lose it because he thought Ozpin might be tricking them by pretending to be Oscar…so Ozpin’s gonna turn around and do exactly that? And to what purpose? Take back the relic from Ruby? If he could hear during his self-imposed isolation then he knows that RWBY is still determined to get to Atlas. If he couldn’t then he woke up in Argus and can infer the same thing. It’s foolish to go off on his own in a body that, to be frank, is still barely trained, especially when time has proven that it takes a team to make it out there. The only way I might buy this is if Ozpin thinks he’s sparing everyone by taking the relic himself; unburdening them from the mission.

I can see why people are suspicious. Oscar is indeed acting off, though I attribute that to the fact that, again, he’s clearly rattled by what happened and is trying not to show it. I can also kinda see why people would be suspicious of him buying combat gear now—he’s planning to go off on his own!—but this was also just a decent time for him to get an outfit change. Plus he needs combat gear regardless of whether he’s with the group or not.

In the end, believing that this is Ozpin in control here is rooted in the fandom’s belief that Ozpin is a horrible manipulator who would turn around and do all the things Jaune just accused him of. If this ends up being the case I’d be incredibly disappointed in RT, because this goes against so much of Ozpin’s core characterization. Until it’s actually proven, this isn’t a theory I’m subscribing to.

With Oscar’s Jaune’s apologies out of the way Qrow tries to leave and Ruby finally loses her temper, snapping that he can at least sit with them. Qrow is once again entirely dismissive of Ruby. He sarcastically says how he “wouldn’t want to get in the way of your celebration,” callously brushes off whatever Oscar and the group apparently made up about, and reiterates that they don’t have a plan. Hell, he doesn’t even know that JNR has learned about Salem and he clearly doesn’t care. Jaune tries to diffuse the situation by mentioning that he has thought of a plan... though it’s the “no going back” kind.

Steal an airship. Please look at everyone’s horrified reactions. Except for Nora.

She’s so proud!!

Why the shock though? Objectively speaking this group has never cared much for laws or rules. Ruby and Yang come from a family with bandits in it. Blake was a member of a terrorist group. Ren and Nora clearly had to steal in order to survive. Jaune got into Beacon with forged transcripts. They happily let Ozpin bend the rules for them at school. They never reported all the illegal activity of the White Fang. They then started acting as huntsmen despite not having licenses. Weiss snuck out of her own Kingdom as cargo. And they just straight up lied to a military figure to try and cross the boarder. Like I get that stealing a ship is a bit bigger than this other stuff (with the exception, perhaps, of Jaune’s transcripts and Blake’s past), but it’s not like this is a group of totally law-abiding citizens. They’ve been working outside of the Kingdoms’ laws for a rather long time now.

It’s the perfect excuse for Qrow though and he tells them to drop it. There’s a clear visual divide between him on the stairs and everyone else below, reinforced when Ruby says that she wants to “hear [Jaune] out.”

Interesting choice of words. Jaune just admitted that ‘steal an airship’ is all he’s got. There isn’t anything more to hear out. Ruby is just making it very clear who she’s siding with.

She says she knows Qrow is worried for them and thinks it’s all hopeless, but “right now I don’t really care what you think.”

To quote the popular meme, you can pinpoint the exact moment his heart breaks!

Needed to be said though.

However then… then. Oh boy. Then Ruby spouts this absolute nonsense about how the kids have never needed adults and definitely don’t need them now.

“We’ve been in tough situations before and we didn’t need an adult to come save us or tell us what to do. We did it our way.”

I’m sorry, Ruby. When the hell was this?? Was it when you tried to take on the White Fang by yourself instead of providing Ozpin with information that might have helped him figure out Salem’s plan? Or was it when an experienced huntsmen had to come save you with your team when you went off alone at Mountain Glenn? Was it when the adults did just as much work to win the battle of Beacon as you? How about when you were traveling to Haven and didn’t have any grimm to deal with because the adult was following behind and taking care of them all, then saved you from being kidnapped? Was it when Ozpin trained you for weeks and finally gave you a plan to follow? Or was it two days ago when Maria’s experience literally saved you all from certain death?

To say nothing of the reverse. It’s because of the kids’s actions that they’re in this position in the first place. It’s because Ruby went and used a question that Ozpin isn’t around to help them anymore, to help recognize the Apathy for what it was, to gain them entrance across the boarder. Kids thinking they know best is precisely what started all this nonsense.

But yeah. Apparently there’s no remorse for how they treated Ozpin yet. Rather than regretting their inhumane treatment now that they’ve had time to cool off, they’ve settled on a ‘Who needs him anyway?’ mentality.

This viewpoint came totally out of left field and I honestly hate it. Everything from the rousing shots of everyone’s smug expressions—Yeah! Bonding over how much we don’t need you!—to Maria cheering them on, I absolutely hated it. Ruby isn’t mad at adults, she’s mad specifically at Qrow and his drinking. She could have easily called him out on his shit (something that needs doing) without charging her team up with the misguided idea that they’ve somehow been surviving without adults when they haven’t. We could have re-asserted Ruby’s convictions to keep fighting without throwing all her 20yo+ allies under the bus. Apparently they’ve learned little from their impulsive decisions this volume.

However, RWBY is acknowledging a common issue with child protagonists: how do you make them the star of the show when presumably adults should be fighting in their stead? There are a couple ways to get around this:

Adults are available but we don’t trust them (Harry’s abuse in Harry Potter)

Adults are around but are fundamentally useless (HP again - Harry is brushed off by McGonagall in the first book, dealing with evil or idiotic DADA instructors, etc.)

Adults are forced to hand over the reigns to kids (any story with a Chosen One plot)

Adults might want to help but can’t for reasons outside of their control (they all died off, they’re hypnotized like the parents in It, etc.)

The problem with RWBY is that adults have always and will always be an integral part of the plot. The narrative hasn’t given Ruby a distrust of authority figures (she grew up with a loving father and clearly respected her instructors), it hasn’t painted her as Remnant’s inevitable savior (in-world at least. We as the audience know she’s the primary protagonist, but to the cast she’s only a little special because of her silver eyes), it hasn’t forcibly removed adults from the battlefield, and it hasn’t characterized them as useless. Yes, RWBYJNR has had some of their faith undermined given Ozpin’s fall from grace and Qrow’s drinking, but those are balanced out by Maria’s endless help and the Cotta-Arc family giving them sanctuary. RWBY is suddenly trying to push a YA-esque ‘kids know best’ viewpoint without doing any of the work to justify that. As an adult watching this show, that scene didn’t make me go

like I think it was supposed to. It just reinforced that they are, in fact, kids. Literally. Only kids look at adults and go, “We don’t need you! We’d be just fine on our own!” I mean yeah, as semi-trained huntsmen they’d probably survive, but that’s not what Ruby is saying. She’s taking her frustration with Qrow’s individual problem and twisting that into a failing of everyone who’s not her age... while standing next to the adult who saved her life and finally explained silver eyes, while her hosts finish making her dinner, in the house they’ll all be sleeping in tonight, while prepping a mission that hinges on getting to Ironwood. Sure, Ruby. Your way doesn’t rely on adults at all.

God I hope this view was just a one-time thing that I can forget ever happened. If Ruby’s leadership gets tied up in a kids vs. adults mentality the rest of this volume is going to be very uncomfortable to watch. Maria’s,“Looks like you didn’t give her enough credit either!” is great, just not in this particular context. A lot like Oscar’s kindness and JNR’s determination to “try.” This episode was filled with things I wanted to see, but then they all got twisted in ways I never expected—and largely don’t like.

Oh well. I’m gonna hang onto Oscar’s BAMF new nutcracker outfit and that glorious image of the gang prepping to dog-pile on him.

Until next week!

Other Details of Note

I’ll admit, I did like the apparent threat behind Tyrian’s goodbye while he had his tail poised over Mercury’s face. He’s good at messing with people.

Nora’s gasp when she sees Pyrrha’s statue : (

But she still got Jaune a drink! :D

I’m wondering now why Pyrrha chose Beacon over Haven…

Terra freaking out about the neighbors was pretty hilarious.

Interesting that Ruby says, “We got this far without Oz.” Normally I’d be thrilled to see her treating him as a peer with a nickname, but considering that the rest of the speech is about how they don’t need adults, it feels more like a dig. He was still “Professor” after Jinn’s vision. Now that she’s decided he’s useless? No more respectful titles.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #mymetas

128 notes · View notes

darkhymns-fic · 6 years ago

Text

New Year’s Eve

Lloyd and Colette celebrate their first New Year's together the best way they can. (Modern AU)

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: T (on tumblr) Mirror Links: AO3 (contains mature content) Notes: A quick story I wanted to write for New Year’s, based off an rp with @frayed-symphony. The story on AO3 contains higher-rated content so watch out! Thank you for making this a great year and I can’t wait for what 2019 will bring!

With the clock striking closer to the hour, Colette found it harder and harder to stem her nervousness.

He’s been gone a while… But she shook her head, trying to busy herself with her assignment that she had gotten over the winter break. She had already gone more than halfway through it though, and the rest seemed too mindless to concentrate on. There really was not much else to do but wait.. She wished they had gotten Noishe for the day, so that at least she wouldn’t feel completely alone.

Maybe I should call… no, he’ll be too busy to answer… or maybe something happened. The worries only continued to build. She had even tried watching tv, though its volume was low enough to just be background noise. The brightness of the electric lights, along with panning shots of so many people, kept being there at her edge of vision, reminding her of the current day, or night actually. I should have just gone with him… or went myself. What if he misses it?

At the front, the doorknob jiggled suddenly, accompanied by a familiar voice outside that sounded like he was having trouble. Colette instantly got to her feet, her every nerve sparking with excitement as she rushed to open the door.

“Oh! Thanks!” Lloyd was grinning wide – in his arms he carried grocery bags, some of them holding maybe a wine bottle or two, along with snacks. Were there decorations there too? She saw some colorful things, like a few party hats, even though it was only going to be the two of them. But she didn’t stare long at that, because Lloyd was wearing a funny decoration himself.

“I just got a couple of things! Like those cool party poppers, and the store was selling really cheap candy… oh, what is it?”

Colette couldn’t stop her giggles. Half of Lloyd’s face was obscured by the 2019 plastic glasses he wore, their entire surface covered in red glitter that was definitely going to get everywhere in the apartment, even more than Noishe’s fur. “Did you get one of those for me?” she asked, pointing at it.

“Of course I did!” He finally unhooked the bags from his arms and took one such glasses from one of them, handing it over to Colette. “I got one in blue, if that’s okay.”

She nodded, already fitting it on her face. It was wide enough for her to see well for the most part, though her side vision was now a bit obscured. Lloyd was grinning at her with his own party glasses, hands on his hips. She loved it when they matched, even on such silly things.

“Thanks, Lloyd! Though, you didn’t need to get these. We were only missing the wine..”

“I know! But these looked neat!” He took out another party item from the bag, a little noisemaker that was wrapped in bright green foil. It looked like a tiny flute almost. He blew on it, and the end of it unfurled, tapping Colette on the nose. “Oh, sorry.”

“That tickled!” She couldn’t help but laugh more, knowing he also bought plenty of these. “You’re really excited for New Years, aren’t you?” She now saw why he took a while – the stores would be putting out every colorful thing they could display for last-minute sales and Lloyd would have been drawn to nearly every one of them.

He smiled a little shyly. “Yeah, just I’ve never had it here in the city. There’s supposed to be a bunch if fireworks, right? I only ever saw it on tv.” That smile widened, and even his eyes must have twinkled a little at the anticipation of it, helped out by those bright glasses. “My dad sometimes set off fireworks but he always had to be careful so there was never a lot… also Noishe got too scared of them anyway, so we don’t do it too much.”

“Oh, right.. I wish he could be here though.” Noishe was staying at Dirk’s home back out in the calmer countryside. She had thought about going there for celebrating New Year’s, but Lloyd had mentioned before about the city. She had seen it each time, so it wasn’t anything too new for her. Maybe that was what Lloyd felt about his home, too.

“He’d be hiding under the bed for hours if he heard any fireworks,” Lloyd explained. “But we can get him tomorrow!”

Colette instantly grew excited. However, while still staring at Lloyd’s silly headwear, she then remembered. “Oh, we only have like 10 minutes left! You took a while, I was.. getting worried.”

“Wh- It’s that soon?!” Lloyd instantly reached for the wine bottle, along with multiple party poppers and noisemakers in hand. “Um, maybe we can drink after… Do you think they’d start early?”

Colette was already putting on her jacket, clasping the silver buttons, smiling softly at the red material of the clothing. She saw the same with what Lloyd wore now too, which would be helpfully bright against the dark of outside. “Maybe people with their personal fireworks… but the big ones always start at 12!” She reached for his hand, taking a few of the party favors for herself. “So we should hurry.”

“Yeah, alright! Let me just, uh-” He shoved the wine and other quick foods across the kitchen counter, nearly uptipping the bottle but saving it at the last second. But he grasped her hand back, already going out the door with her. “Okay! Wanna race again?”

“N-not if you’re gonna cheat!” she said back, grinning. They just rushed off together to the stairwell instead. The night would be cold, but the skies would be bright. Colette had never felt as excited for this as before… but Lloyd always made everything more exciting.

Luckily no one was on the rooftop as she had been afraid of. It really did feel like a special place, even on this day. By the time they reached it, she could already hear the soft whistle of a firework arching through the air, ready to ignite. An early one, but not the main event yet.

Lloyd swiveled his head towards the sound, looking up wide-eyed as one firework exploded, showering lights through the air. “Whoa… is that it?”

“It’s gonna start soon!” Colette reassured. The night was still cold, and she bunched her jacket tighter to herself. The sleeves still went over her wrists, but she liked it that way. She really did. Adjusting her party glasses, she took one noisemaker, and blew it behind Lloyd’s head.

“Hey!” Lloyd jumped, grinning as he turned around. He blew his own into her face. “Bet I can do it longer!” And he proceeded to do just that, the sound so harsh but making Colette nearly double over in laughter. He just looked so silly, and it made her want to do what she promised herself before it was time…

Then finally, the real fireworks started.

Lloyd noticed, and turned back towards the skies, the noisemaker still in his mouth but silent. Some fireworks did the usual spreading out of lights, while others formed pictures – of hearts, of stars, and even of words! ‘Happy New Year’ was lit up against the dark, like briefly formed stars, before falling away, trails of smoke following after them.

“Wow!” he said aloud, dropping the noisemaker from his lips and catching it in time with a fumble. “There’s way many than I thought.”

Colette was watching too, but her hands fidgeted with themselves a little. It was midnight right now, and she wanted to help make it count before the seconds ticked by too fast. It was just hard to make Lloyd turn away, he looked so happy…

Still, maybe this would make him happy, too. “Lloyd?”

She was surprised he could hear her through the constant booms and crackles of the fireworks. She had taken off the party glasses, and then reached out to take his own from his face. It looked so cute on him, but it would only get in the way.

“What’s up? You feeling okay?” he asked her, but then she leaned in quickly to kiss him. Lloyd’s lips felt chilled from his time outside, but still soft, drawing her even closer.

I always wanted to share this moment with someone, she thought, hands gripping his shoulders tight.

She only pulled back once she felt it was enough – he probably wanted to go back to looking at the fireworks. “H-happy new year, Lloyd,” she whispered, eyes lowered. “It’s.. been a really a good year, meeting you and…living together and everything. I want.. more of that for next year, too. I…” she paused, suddenly feeling shy. “Sorry, you should go back to watching! There’s still a bunch more.”

But Lloyd was moving forward, kissing her more deeply than she had. She opened her mouth at that, hands reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair. His tongue rushed through her, and she felt him press their bodies even closer.

She still heard the fireworks, could see their lights through her shut eyes as she kept kissing him, her face feeling so hot from his closeness.

The kiss lasted so long that once they finally moved apart, the night wind felt biting without his mouth to cover her in warmth.

“Colette,” he whispered, lips still so, so close. “I love you.. This has been the best year for me.” He kissed her again, his breath quickening against her lips. “I want you for every year.” His kisses grew desperate, moving from her lips to her chin before halting. “Ah, sorry… got carried away.” She felt his grin at her ear.

His hands moved to wander across her sides. They hadn’t even drunk the wine yet, and already she felt Lloyd wanting her so much. It made her feel so comforted, not alone in her feelings.

“It’s okay… we can.. keep going.” She wanted to celebrate with him the best way she could. “If that’s okay..”

Another kiss, and she was lost with him.

#tales of symphonia #colloyd #lloyd irving #colette brunel #fanfiction #one shot #frayed-symphony #happy new year!

26 notes · View notes

spinzgirl · 6 years ago

Text

What’s Love Got to Do With It?

So I’m still seeing posts about how Lotor got a shit deal from Allura, and how she should take the blame for his becoming this:

Now, even if we didn’t know his history, the idea that a woman is responsible for a man’s behavior is dangerous. The last thing young girls need to hear is that they should treat a man with kid gloves and cater to his every whim. Even worse, that a woman should forgive a man of straight up murder because he says he loves her!

I remember when we got the first teaser for Lotor. The fandom went into a frenzy because he was seen as the hot guy with the great hair and sexy accent. In the first episode of S3 he’s introduced as the “heir apparent” to the Galra throne. He handily defeats Throk and quickly establishes himself as someone to be both feared and trusted.

However, as he leaves the arena he tells his generals that the masses are easily manipulated. Of course those words sound like a jab at the Galra to both the generals and the viewers of the show. In a greater context it would include them and us as well. We don’t learn this until S6, when he explains to Ezor and Zethrid that he needed to make the Voltron team believe that he was sincere in helping them in order to get into the rift. He saved them at Nacxella for his own benefit, and used Voltron to help weaken the Galra Empire as well.

In S5 Lotor spins a sad tale about how he wants to be like King Alfor (who he never met) and how he tried in vain to save a planet (unverifiable information) to make Allura believe he wants to save the universe. He manipulates her feelings by constantly reminding her that their fathers had been friends and that she is the universe’s best hope. He never lays out an actual plan, just continuously harps on how much better things will be with all of the quintessence they’ll have access to.

All the talk about him being able to overcome his childhood trauma? Allura’s father was murdered by his friend and comrade. She of all people could easily use that as a reason to become a tyrant. We even see evidence of that in “Hole in the Sky” when we learn about Empress Allura and the Altean empire. There no one got to choose their path in life. Our Allura never makes demands of others, and never manipulates people to get the results she wants.

But not only does she not want to rule the universe, she doesn’t even ask for praise for saving it. She reminds Lance that it’s not about the glory. Even the fact that she takes on the role of Keith in the “Voltron Show” episode says a lot. There is no desire on her part to be recognized for saving planets and freeing people. Her singular goal is to get people to willingly work together to defeat Zarkon.

On the flip side we have Lotor. Whereas the Blade of Marmora are berated for not having accomplished anything for ten-thousand years, Lotor is somehow exempt? And when we do find out he’s been working in the shadows to depose his father we see that he’s done so at a great expense.

First, look at the colony. It’s been there for roughly 100 centuries. They’re living in huts essentially. Minimal technology, space pods that no one can use. You see the group of people lined up for the mission? Not a staggering number, is it? In that time frame the human populations is estimated to have gone from 1-10 million to roughly 7 billion.

I realize we don’t know how many Alteans he began with, but one would think over that great a time period the population would have grown exponentially. This shot below is of a group of Alteans arriving early on. It’s hard to see but the line reaches well towards the mountains. So, a fairly large number, much bigger than we see in the current day photo above.

In contrast we see how many are being held in the harvesting facility. Roughly the same number, maybe more? But keep in mind that when Bandor returned he was dying. So these aren’t the same Alteans who have been there this entire time. They’re having to be replaced. Considering how little time he’d been gone, we could estimate the average to be a year before they are replaced. By that count how many thousands would have died over the centuries?

The other interesting thing is the statue. It’s massive. It would be viewable from any corner of the colony. Lotor makes a point to land his ship in front of it. He is creating an illusion of his “greatness” to keep the colonists from questioning or challenging his rule. It’s also greatly narcissistic. He views himself as their savior, after all.

The visual of the names on its base is a stark reminder of those who were sent to die. Lotor has literally tried to build an empire on the bodies of the Alteans he was supposed to save.

And finally, when the truth comes out and Allura literally dumps his ass, he doesn’t seem in the least bit distressed about it. His generals rescue him and he’s basically “thanks, now let’s go get that quintessence.”

When they arrive and are greeted by the four lions he does try to win Allura over one last time. He may have actually fallen for her during his time on the ship. But it was a shallow love at best, because the moment she says he’s worse than his father he vows to wipe her from existence. There’s zero hesitation on his part. That speaks volumes about his mindset.

Anyway, that’s my say on the whole Lotor situation. You can call the writers lazy all you want, but they built a case against him. They didn’t just flip a switch. There was careful planning involved. And to call it discriminatory is laughable. Galrans have been depicted as being capable of good (Keith, the Blade, etc.) and Alteans as being capable of evil.

To say that he should be given a happy ending because his mother was distant and he was raised by a governess? Sorry, but that just puts him on par with your average rich boy. We see nothing that indicates he was abused (neglected, yes) or mistreated as a child. They aren’t pointing to his past as an excuse for his current behavior, either. After all Keith was orphaned and seemingly had a rough time in the foster system. He also grew up without a mother. Yes, Shiro helped him get his shit together, but there’s no way I’m going to believe Keith would've become a mass murderer had the two not met.

So let’s drop the “Lotor was wronged by the writing staff” dialogue and appreciate that we were given such a well written, three-dimensional villain.

And what can you do instead?

Why not write about how bad you feel for Allura for being used in such a cruel way. About how this is going to make trust difficult for her in the future. About how she’s already lost and suffered so much but always looks forward positively, trying to save as many as possible even at her own peril. About how Lotor took the last bit of home away from her as well. About how you want to see her get a happy ending with the person SHE loves.

Can we see more of that?

#sometimes the bad guys are actually bad #not just misunderstood #you can still like Lotor #no one will judge you #but that means accepting him as he is #now can we please give Allura a break

66 notes · View notes

tolkien-fandom-history · 6 years ago

Text

Interview with Angela P. Nicholas--author of "Aragorn: J.R.R. Tolkien's Undervalued Hero"

We were very excited to have the opportunity to interview author Angela P. Nicholas. Her book "Aragorn: J.R.R. Tolkien's Undervalued Hero" is an extremely detailed, in depth examination of Tolkien's Aragorn--his life, his relationships, his achievements, his skills, and his personality. It is a very worthwhile addition to any Tolkien library. She has some fascinating insights into Aragorn, book vs movie representations of the character, thoughts on the upcoming Amazon series and fan fiction as part of the Tolkien fandom. Hope you enjoy reading it!

1. How did you first become interested in Tolkien?

Answer:

Although The Lord of the Rings was very much in fashion during my student days in the late sixties and early seventies I wasn't interested in it at that stage – probably because I didn't tend to follow fashions! It was not until a few years later, in 1973, that a friend persuaded me to read it. He stressed that it would be a good idea to read The Hobbit first and promised me that I was "in for a treat". I was hooked immediately and when I got together with my future husband soon afterwards I wasted no time in introducing him to Tolkien's works as well! I re-read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings several times during the seventies and bought The Silmarillion as soon as it was published in 1977. Further readings have followed since, especially while working on Aragorn, extending to Unfinished Tales, the twelve volumes of The History of Middle-earth and Tolkien's Letters as well.*

2. Aside from reading the books, have you had any other immersion in the Tolkien fandom? Online, through societies, other venues?

Answer:

My Tolkien-related activities include membership of the Tolkien Society since 2005, leading to attendance at Oxonmoot (most years) plus a number of AGMs, the occasional seminar and the event in Loughborough in 2012. I've contributed several articles to Amon Hen and also gave a talk about Aragorn at Oxonmoot a few years ago. In addition I attend meetings of my local smial (Southfarthing) which is actually a Tolkien Reading Group.

3. There are so many richly written, deeply compelling characters in Tolkien. How did you decide to focus on Aragorn?

Answer:

There wasn't really any decision to make, as right from the start I found Aragorn the most complex and appealing character in the book. Every time I re-read The Lord of the Rings - including delving into the Appendices - I found new depths to his character and significance.

4. What prompted you to write this book? How did the impetus to write about him, in such rich detail, come about?

Answer:

The actual impetus came from Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films. Although I enjoyed his portrayal of Aragorn in some ways, it was clear that there were significant differences between the film and book versions of the character. For my own satisfaction I decided to re-discover Tolkien's Aragorn by studying all the Middle-earth writings and making detailed notes on anything of interest. I did not, at that stage, see myself actually writing a book.

5. Did you initially plan such an exhaustive and detailed study of this character, when you first decided to write the book?

Answer:

No, I didn't envisage anything so detailed. It just got out of hand: the more notes I made the more ideas I had and the thing just grew exponentially!

6. The title makes use of the word ‘undervalued’—how do you define that in terms of Aragorn and how did you come to associate that word with him?

Answer:

While studying Aragorn it became clear to me that his role in the story is a lot more significant than is immediately apparent. This is partly because the book is “hobbito-centric”, to use Tolkien's own word [see end of Letter 181 in The Letters of J R R Tolkien edited by Humphrey Carpenter], so is largely written from the hobbit viewpoint. For this reason Aragorn's ancestry and earlier life are only described in the Appendices, which not everyone reads. Thus his deeds - and their significance - are often overlooked, causing him and his role to be undervalued. Chapter 1.5 of my book in particular aims to address this problem by concentrating on the story of The Lord of the Rings from Aragorn's point of view. He does many crucial things behind the scenes, for example: the lengthy search for Gollum; standing in for Gandalf as shown by the secret vigil he conducts over Frodo during the months before the latter's departure from the Shire; and - the most significant achievement - confronting Sauron in the Palantír of Orthanc thus implying that he himself has the Ring and so diverting Sauron's attention away from Frodo.

7. If you were to consider writing a similar book about another character from Tolkien’s legendarium who would you choose to focus on?

Answer:

I find Finrod Felagund, Galadriel and Elrond interesting, especially in the light of their impact on Aragorn and his ancestry. Among the hobbits, Merry Brandybuck is rather appealing. However I have to say that I am not planning to do another book on this scale!

8. What were your thoughts on the portrayal of Aragorn in Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies?

Answer:

Given “book” Aragorn's lengthy struggle to regain the kingships of Arnor and Gondor and to be deemed worthy of marrying his beloved Arwen, it was extremely disappointing to be presented with the image of “Aragorn the reluctant king” who breaks off his engagement so Arwen can sail west.

In general I felt there was too much emphasis on Aragorn as a fighter, along with almost total neglect of his formidable healing skills, impressive foresight and knowledge of history and lore.

Another great disappointment was the omission of the challenge to Sauron in the Orthanc Stone. Yes, this incident was included in the extended version of The Return of the King, but it appeared in the wrong place and also gave the impression that Aragorn lost the confrontation. (The credit for seeing the enemy's plans in the Stone was actually given to Pippin!)

In addition I found the beheading of the Mouth of Sauron particularly disturbing.

9. Did you find Viggo Mortensen believable and appealing as Aragorn?

Answer:

In spite of my answer to the previous question I liked Viggo Mortensen's performance. He did actually look something like my image of Aragorn and he seemed to capture the sadness, remoteness, physical courage and protectiveness I associate with the character. Basically I thought that Mortensen did very well with the part he was given to play - but the part was not that of Tolkien's Aragorn!

10. Amazon has bought the rights to the appendices of the Lord of the Rings and is planning a 5 part series. Rumor has it that the first season will focus on young Aragorn. What do you hope to see in this adaptation and are there any particular incidents/scenes/events that you think merit particular attention or inclusion?

Answer: The following seem to me to be important:

- Putting Aragorn's early life in the context of “Estel”, the Hope of the Dúnedain, who has been prophesied to be the one who will atone for Isildur's failure to destroy the Ring, and who will restore the kingship of Men.

- Some emphasis on his family members: Ivorwen, Dírhael, Gilraen, the death of Arathorn, subsequent fostering by Elrond, and training by Elladan and Elrohir. Some indication of the close relationship with his foster-father would be good: Elrond loved Aragorn as much as his own children but this was not made apparent in the Peter Jackson films.

- The scene when Elrond tells the 20-year-old Aragorn his true identity.

- First meeting with Arwen

- Friendship with Gandalf from age 25 onward

- Betrothal to Arwen, and Galadriel's involvement: he was 49 by this time, so that may not be considered part of his early life (though 49 would be young for one of the Dúnedain!)

- Perhaps some reference to the events of The Hobbit in 2941-2 when we know that 10/11-year-old Aragorn was living in Rivendell.

11. What do you find most inspiring about Tolkien’s world?

Answer:

The depiction of such a complete and seemingly realistic world, and the fact that one can pick up extra hidden depths in both story and characters on each re-reading. There is always something else to discover or a new interpretation of a familiar passage.

12. Are you involved in any more projects involving Tolkien?

Answer:

Not at the moment. I have one or two ideas for possible short articles.

13. What advice would you give to those first encountering Tolkien’s work and wanting to learn more about Middle-earth and its inhabitants?

Answer:

Speaking from my own experience I would say: Read The Hobbit first then The Lord of the Rings several times, including the Appendices, before delving into other works: The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, The History of Middle-earth and Tolkien's Letters, plus critical works, etc. - and of course online sources which were not available when I first became interested in Tolkien.

14. In the preface to your book you mention discovering the online Tolkien fanfiction community—what are your thoughts on Tolkien fanfiction? What time frame was this and did you join the fanfiction community at that time?

Answer:

I started writing fanfiction during 2003 and continued doing it until about 2007 which was when I made the decision to write a serious work about Aragorn. One piece of fanfiction appeared in Amon Hen, and the rest on a couple of websites which I think no longer exist.

My main thought about fanfiction is that it was this which started me off writing. It was very much an experiment as my last attempts at creative writing dated back to my school English lessons in the 1960s! Without trying the fanfiction first I don't think I would ever have got round to writing articles for Amon Hen, let alone my book.

15. Did encountering fanfiction or even writing it have an effect on your thoughts on Aragorn and the salient points of his character that truly defined him?

Answer:

Yes - because the chief aim of the fanfiction (mine and, I suspect, that of other fanfiction writers) was to fill in the gaps in Aragorn's story. I scoured the text for possible motives and feelings of the people I was writing about. My fanfiction was always based on the “book” version of the story and characters (never on the film version). I did sometimes use invented characters but only to add detail and interest to the story. For exampIe this approach was used when writing about Aragorn's Rangers and when describing his interactions with the inhabitants of Bree. Some stories were actually based on invented characters, in order to try and see Aragorn through the eyes of others. This probably helped me when writing the “Relationship” chapters [see next question.]

16. One aspect of your book that to me is truly unique is Part 2, where you study and interpret his interactions and relationships with the other races and individuals he encounters in Middle-earth. What made you decide to pursue this format?

Answer:

It just seemed the most logical approach. I couldn't study Aragorn's relationships properly without also studying the other half of each different relationship. There was so much to be revealed about both parties in these studies, many of which were based around families and generations (such as in Rohan, and Gondor, and in the Rivendell and Lothlórien communities).

17. Aragorn as a character brings together elements and bloodlines from the First Age into the Fourth Age—you outline these genealogies and relationships quite thoroughly in your book. How do you think this knowledge of his genealogy affected him in his transition from youth to Ranger to King? Is there a character from the earlier Ages that you think had a more significant impact on him or that he resembles the most in character?

Answer: Aragorn would presumably have learnt about these people as a child during his history lessons, but would not have connected them specifically with himself until he was made aware of his true identity at the age of 20.

Elendil, Isildur and Anárion stand out as the obvious significant ancestors whom Aragorn would have striven to emulate - plus, in the case of Isildur, also to atone for his failure to destroy the Ring.

Other ancestors who may well have inspired admiration and/or gratitude in Aragorn include:

- Elendur the self-sacrificing eldest son of Isildur. A passage in Unfinished Tales refers to Elrond seeing a huge similarity between Elendur and Aragorn, both physically and in character. [See footnote 26 at the end of The Disaster of the Gladden Fields.]

- Amandil, the father of Elendil, who advised his son to gather his family and possessions in secret and plan an escape from Númenor in the event of a disaster, before himself courageously setting out for the Undying Lands to plead for mercy for the Númenóreans. He was never heard of again, but the Númenórean race was saved due to Elendil's successful escape to Middle-earth after following his father's instructions.

- Tar-Elendil the 4th King of Númenor and his daughter Silmarien. The royal line of Númenor and its heirlooms only survived via this female line.

- Tar-Palantir the penultimate King of Númenor who resisted the influence of Sauron and tried to turn the Númenóreans back to friendship with the Eldar.

Another notable ancestor for a different reason was Arvedui, the last King of the North Kingdom, who tried to claim the throne of Gondor as well but was rejected and ended up losing both kingdoms before fleeing to the frozen north where he died in a shipwreck. Aragorn must have regarded his own mission to reunite the two kingdoms just over 1,000 years later with some apprehension.

Ar-Pharazôn would clearly have served as a dire warning!

I wonder if Aragorn felt any unease about his namesake, Aragorn I, being killed by wolves!

A comment in Appendix AI(i) of The Lord of the Rings states that the Númenóreans came to resent the choice of Elros to be mortal, thus triggering their yearning for immortality and their subsequent downfall. Did Aragorn ever resent his ancestor's choice? Personally I think he would have had the knowledge and wisdom to understand Ilúvatar's purpose in reuniting the immortal line of Elrond with the mortal line of Elros (through the marriage of Arwen and Aragorn) in order to strengthen the royal line prior to the departure of the Elves and the beginning of the Age of Men.

18. What are your thoughts on the original premise that Aragorn was Trotter, a hobbit?

Answer:

Eeek! The grinning and the wooden shoes! I don't think that the book could possibly have had the same impact, depth and sense of history if the main characters had all been hobbits. I seem to remember that the name “Trotter” still survived for a while after he became a man. “Strider” sounds much better. I'm so glad Tolkien didn't pursue the original idea.

19. Do you have any advice for budding Tolkien acolytes and scholars who are first delving into the legendarium?

Answer:

Read and re-read, record thoughts, ideas, passages worth quoting. Read what JRRT wrote and what others have written. This worked for me, over a very long period - more by accident than design.

*this answer is the same as Angela's answer in the Luna Press interview with her as it has not changed! Take a look at that article for more information on Angela and her book. https://www.lunapresspublishing.com/single-post/2017/09/04/Aragorn---A-Companion-Book

Interviewed by @maedhrosrussandol

July 14th 2018

45 notes · View notes

odderancyart · 7 years ago

Text

His Hatred is as pure as his Love

The title is a quote from a comic by xLadyMalice (18+ blog)

The poem/quote in the fic comes from Steven Moffat

I couldn’t find an owner to Disbelief Papyrus

On AO3

Fandom: Undertale Characters: Papyrus, Frisk, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Asgore Summary: Disbelief Papyrus. On a neutral run, Frisk kills Sans. Papyrus’ hatred is born, and that is something you never want to be the victim of.

Demons run ”You killed… you killed hi… I believed in you. I believed in you and you killed my brother.” Gathering the dusty jacket in his arms Papyrus watched the back of the human disappear into Waterfall. Tears ran down his face. His brother, Sans, was dead. The human had killed him in cold blood. Whilst smiling. They had struck from behind, Sans hadn’t stood a chance despite his ability to dodge. The sobs Papyrus let out started to die, changing into giggles as he stared at the dust at his feet. He put it into a container he had stashed in his inventory, before putting it back, and then he grinned widely. He stared at the path the human had taken. His giggled turned into laughter as he put the jacket on. It was too small. But what did that matter? Papyrus continued to laugh as he stalked after the kid that had dusted his family.

He would make them regret ever coming here.

When a good man goes to war His eye blazed orange as he made his way through Waterfall. It was almost interesting, how most of its inhabitants seemed frightened, talking about how a human had dusted their friends and families, but a few only had nice things to say. Once, Papyrus would have seen those few as proof that the human wasn’t all bad, but now he knew better. They were taunting him. Pointing out that they had spared a few, just like Papyrus had spared them just before they killed Sans. He did stop to help a few monsters who was in need of his aid, but most scuttered out of the vengeful monster’s way. His eye sparked as he heard two Temmies talk. One of them had seen the human dust another Temmie, and one had liked the human. He grinded his teeth, scaring them off. He hated it. He hated the human. And he would get his revenge.

Night will fall and drown the sun Undyne had tried to stop him. The human had spared her as well. For this, he was almost grateful. His best friend lived. But she had tried to stop him from punishing them for what they had done to Sans. Said to leave it to the Guard, to let her take care of the human. She had already failed once. There was simply no way he would risk her messing up again, letting the human go once more. He told her this, with cold voice. She had looked hurt, but still tried to stop him. He had attacked.

Undyne was stronger than him, he knew this. She was the strongest monster Underground, Sans had once said she had a natural well of Determination – something extremely unusual for monsters. But she was still hurt and tired from her encounter with the human, and Papyrus was not going to allow anyone to stop him. He pinned her to a wall and left for Hotland, in his brother’s killer’s tracks.

When a good man goes to war Mettaton was alive. His body was completely, utterly, destroyed, only the SOUL container not in a thousand pieces, but he was alive.

Papyrus knew he should feel something, anything, when hearing these news. MTT was his idol after all, but nothing. It was like all his compassion, all his love, all his hope – everything he was – had disappeared together with Sans. There was not much he cared about anymore, except getting revenge. He had felt something like relief over the fact that Undyne was alive, but otherwise Papyrus was not able to find another positive emotion in his body.

All he knew was this great hatred.

Friendship dies and true love lies ”U-Undyne?” The skittish royal scientist asked the captain of the Royal Guard, who was currently sitting on the floor of her lab. When Papyrus had beaten her up Alphys had immediately sent Mettaton to pick her up before leaving to meet the human, so she could patch her up. ”A-are you o-okay?”

”Okay?” Undyne replied, and let out a light laugh. It sounded forced. ”Of course I’m okay, Alph. I’m always okay. That my best friend just nailed me to a wall in blind rage doesn’t change that. Neither does the fact that there’s a human killing their way through the Underground, and Papyrus is going after them, wants to kill them. Papyrus!”

Alphys could only nod as she watched the person she was sure was the love of her life keep in sobs, grinning a grin that looked slightly unhinged. She was scared.

Night will fall and the dark will rise The Hall of Judgement. The golden room that had been Sans’ primary work place. The Hall of the Royal Judge.

But as the Royal Judge was not there anymore, Papyrus would just have to take his place. He had gotten here before the human, thanks to his ability to ignore and manipulate gravity; much like Sans had been able to manipulate time and space and therefore teleport. He grinned where he stood, leaning at a pillar. It was feral. He had waited, and watched, and his hate had grown with every life the human had taken and spared. Footsteps was heard, coming closer, and Papyrus clutched Sans’ jacket a little closer.

”Don’t worry, brother.” He whispered quietly, darkly. ”I will avenge you.”

When a good man goes to war The human looked surprised to see him there. Apparently, they had thought that since they killed the Judge, they would not have to face judgement, like they had in all earlier RESETs, Papyrus realized. It was almost enough to make him feel slightly giddy.

Then the human shrugged, smiling their weird smile, and kept walking until they reached the middle of the Hall where he stood.

Pushing himself of the pillar he faced the human who had murdered Sans. ”LET’S JUST GET TO THE POINT, SHALL WE?” He asked, back to his normal volume. The black of his eye grew more compact. ”YOU DIRTY BROTHER-KILLER.”

Calling them into a fight he grinned at the way the human almost flinched back at his tone. They did not look worried, though, which Papyrus knew was because they had never had too much trouble with his fight in the past. But he also knew he would make them regret underrestimating him. He called down a shower of bones, letting them rain over the human.

Demons run, but count the cost They were both panting, sweat dripping down their faces. Papyrus couldn’t remember the last time he had been sweating at all, let alone this much. But while the human got slower and slower, he still had a lot of energy left. The training he had gotten since childhood assured that he could fight for days at a time.

He dodged, threw bones, fired Gaster Blasters. He got a twisted joy from seeing their face when he called on the Blasters the first time. He had ten out at all times, more than Sans ever had been able to manage for more than a few moments, so even if they had fought Sans in an earlier RESET there was no preparing for his attacks. They were completely without a pattern; Papyrus was too furious to care about that. He did not know who had taught him to fight without patterns, nor did he care.

He laughed, the sound giving the impression of coming from the edge of madness, and fired on the same time as he let a wall of blue bones rise from the ground. He dodged the human’s attack and turned their SOUL blue.

The fury on their face was great, but the exhaustion in their body even more evident. They were down on 2 HP and he knew their inventory was empty. The battle had been going on for hours. The human screamed as he purposefully only dropped their HP with 1 while still making sure it hurt. Badly.

”FINE!” They yelled, voice filled with a hatred not nearly as pure as the hatred Papyrus felt, but extraordinary nevertheless. ”FINE! I GIVE UP! KILL ME THEN, I GIVE UP!”

The human just stood there, and Papyrus grinned. Finally. He lifted his hand, before bringing it down, firing one of the Blasters.

The human’s body fell to the ground with a final thump, burned almost beyond recognition.

The battle’s won, but the child is lost Papyrus stared at the body lying on the golden tiles. He felt a rush of victory going through his bones. He had avenged his brother’s death. As that thought came into his mind he felt a sob forcing itself up his throat. Sans was avenged, but he was still dead. Papyrus was still alone, without his family.

And who knew when the human would RESET again, and what kind of human they would be?

The orange glow around his eye disappeared as he crumbled to the floor, clutching the jacket tight. He sobbed violently, shaking, as he again called on his magic and had bones impale the dead body again and again and again.

Sans was dead and he was alone. Sans was dead and he was alone. Sans was dead and he was…

”Sans?” A soft voice came from behind, but Papyrus hardly noticed it.

”Oh dear.”

A hand on his shoulder, and he jerked so violently he almost lost his balance. He would have, if the fuzzy paw holding him hadn’t helped him keep it.

”You must be Papyrus.” The voice said. ”Undyne and your brother have told me so much about you.”

Papyrus managed to look up toward the one speaking, through his tears. A goat monster he recognized well was looking down on him, eyes soft and sorrowful. The king. Papyrus couldn’t even bother to care about the fact that the King of All Monsters was in his presence.

Two fuzzy arms wrapped themselves around him, and he cried into the king’s chest, grateful that someone was there to keep him from falling apart. It hurt. It hurt so much. Sans had been the one constant in his life, had been there from the start. Sans had been the most important person in his life. Sans had been the one person he loved more than anything else. His lazy, hot cat-selling, joke-telling, slacking, kind and brave brother.

Once the tears had dried out, he looked at the human body, which was now hovering a few feet above the floor, held up by his bones. His hatred still burned brightly, as strong as ever, not only toward this single human, but toward humanity. He looked up at the king, determination in his face.

”Let me into the Guard.” He simply said, quietly, voice almost void of any emotion except determination. ”I killed the human. The seventh human. You can take their SOUL and break the Barrier. A place in the Royal Guard is the least you owe me. And I will fight when we go to war against those demons.”

While he almost felt bad for forcing his way into the Guard through Asgore instead of waiting for Undyne to allow him in, he would not wait anymore. Then all Papyrus felt was grim and cruel satisfaction as the king, looking pained, nodded.

He would fill the void Sans left behind by making those who killed him regret ever being born.

…

RESET

30 notes · View notes

sickdaysofficial · 7 years ago

Text

Sickdays 3.0: July 27th

Fandom: Free!

Prompt: Water- Eating before going swimming

Word count: 2225

Warnings: Vomit.

This is my submission for today's prompt! :)

The old wive’s tale specifies that you must wait half an hour after eating to start swimming, or you shall suffer terrible stomach cramps. But nothing can keep Nanase Haruka out of the water. Not even scarfing down two giant yogurt parfaits. Bad idea.

Nanase Haruka’s relationship with water is, contrary to popular belief, is actually a love-hate one. He loved it so much that it permeated every fold of his brain, drowning the precious neural tissue and causing him to act stupidly. Really, really stupidly. Like right now.

His whole head was swimming, as was he. Oh God, why did I eat that parfait? And then a second? His stomach was just as tumultuous as the water and felt like it was growing talons trying to claw its way out.

Continuing to act stupidly, Haru pushed himself. Another 50 meters, he huffed. I can make it.

~10 MINUTES EARLIER~

Nanase Haruka was late. And he was never, ever late. Not when it came to swimming. Hell, he was usually early, warmed up and in the pool a full half hour before the rest of the team even appeared, fully clothed.

But no, this time he was significantly late. See, he had an exam today: that he had conveniently forgotten about. So his whole lunch period was spent cramming in the study lounge. And, out of pity and a damn good bit of luck, his teacher let him stay after class for a while to finish the couple questions he had left.

Which added up to a 20-minute delay and a panging ache in his belly. He hadn’t eaten since his breakfast that morning and now his tummy was making the rumblies that only mackerel would satisfy.

Of course, the school cafeteria didn’t have mackerel for an after-school snack, so he snagged 3 strawberry yogurt parfaits and sprinted out of the building and towards the pool.

Everybody was waiting for him. Makoto’s eyes, which were wide with fear, softened as Haru came into view.

“Where were you?” He asked. “We started getting worried, well, as soon as we got here and you weren’t in the pool.”

“Had to finish a test,” Haru huffed. The sprint had left him short of breath, despite his notable athleticism. His stomach gave a loud and guttural growl that turned everybody’s heads.

“You hungry?” Nagisa asked brightly. “I know I am…”

“When are you not?” Rei retorted with playful scorn in his voice. The two continued to bicker as Haru opened the first parfait and inhaled in in three heaping spoonfuls.

Mako’s brows furrowed. “You sure you should be eating like that before swimming?” Concern flowered on the brunet’s face. Haru could take care of himself, living alone and all, but he often made poor choices.

Haru simply glared at him and popped a yogurt-covered strawberry into his mouth. Mako rolled his eyes and put on his goggles as Kou approached.

“Hey boys!” She squealed, waving a clipboard. On it were dozens of characters; clearly, she had spent quite a long time on the day’s training schedule. She took a moment to survey her team’s thick slabs of muscle, smiling approvingly. But her eyes fell on Haru.

“Haru-chan, what are you doing?” She stared at the pink goop splattered sloppily around his mouth in a fashion quite uncharacteristic of the boy, as well as the boy himself hunched over his snack and devouring it like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

He stared back with cold ocean eyes that burned, What does it look like?

Kou dropped it; he was a boy, and boys will be boys. “Anyway, I thought you’d benefit from some conditioning and stamina training!”

“An apt assessment, Kou,” Rei commented in his cocky yet endearing matter-of-fact attitude. “We’re doomed to fail if we can’t keep up in the final meters of our events.” Nagisa stuck his tongue out at the four-eyed butt-kisser.

“Exactly! So you boys will be doing a lot of sustained and sustained exercise today. You better be ready for an extra-hard workout, but it’ll help you a lot in the long run!”

The black-haired swimmer threw down his second empty parfait cup, stood up, snapped on his goggles, and jumped right into his lane. The three other guys sighed and jumped into theirs with a lot less enthusiasm.

They floated for a few minutes to adjust to the water while Kou reviewed her regiment notes. Meanwhile, Haru’s belly began to feel rather strange. Kind of like it was bring stretched at the corners, which gave him a terrible burning sensation. Cramps. Dammit. He dipped a hand under the water to knead at his swollen belly, which did nothing but intensify the pain.

Mako looked over from the neighboring lane.

“Hey, Haru, you feeling okay?” He whispered. “You look a little green around the gills.”

Grimacing, Haru tensed up as a ferocious cramp rolled through his abdomen. The slop in his stomach was roiling and quite unhappy with its host. He hiccupped quite loudly, turning everyone’s head again, then mumbled, “ ‘m fine.”

Tachibana turned back to his lane but continued to send a suspicious gaze towards the free-styler.

“Alright!” Kou cried out. “To get your hearts pumping, we’re gonna start with a 100-meter race. Just do whatever stroke you’re comfortable with, but go as fast as possible. And if I think you’re slacking, I’ll make you do another 100!” The competitive flash in the manager’s eyes was just as dangerous as her brother’s. Them damn Matsuokas…

All four swimmers placed their hand on the pool wall and waited intently for the signal. She allowed them to wallow desperately in the anticipation, then gave a loud screech from her whistle.

Just like that, they all took off. Three of them went absolutely sailing, slicing through the water like a hot knife through butter.

Except for Nanase. He was swimming more like a butter knife through beef jerky. And that’s what his gut felt like: tough and gross. With each stroke, his abdominal muscles seared from the stretching and sent a wave of nausea ringing through him like the Liberty Bell. Despite the cool water, he felt quite hot. That yogurt was sitting in his stomach like a rock. A boulder would be a better descriptor, considering the sheer volume he had scarfed down before jumping in the water.

Bad decision, he groaned. Each of his breaths were extraordinarily shallow, as the stomach had bloated up and taken away all the room for his lungs. At the end of each breath, a white-hot and piercing pain shot through his chest and through to his stomach. The cramps were getting unbearable, just as he was nearing the turn.

Kou had been watching all of this unfold. The others were doing excellent, but Nanase was uncharacteristically sluggish. He was a full length behind everyone, even Rei.

“Pick up the pace, Haru!” She chastised. Concern began to blossom inside of her. Nanase should be a full length ahead of everyone else, not the other way around, she pondered. I hope he’s okay.

When Haru folded in on himself for the turn, he experienced a brief reprieve from the pain. Curling in around his stomach had ebbed away some of the pain. This relief was short lived, for when he extended his midsection for the second half of the race, the muscles screamed in pain. As did he, causing him to aspirate a mouthful of water. He began to cough, which only made the cramps worse and brought the yogurt farther up his throat.

Makoto had been watching his friend the entire race. Of course he noticed that Haru was falling behind. Way behind. His strokes were sloppy and his kicks uncoordinated. I knew it, Mako cursed. Dammit, Haru, this is why you shouldn’t stuff your face before a race! You’ll get a bellyache!

This was all coming too late for Nanase Haruka, however. Panting harshly, desperately trying to get air into his strained and compacted lungs, he flashed his gaze ahead to the rest of his team. Nagisa had finished and was catching his breath, Mako was close behind, and Rei would finish any second now. He himself only had 10 meters left.

The agony in his stomach was a monster that couldn’t be ignored. It became so great that it grew claws and pulled down his arms so that Haru, without even thinking, stopped swimming and clutched his midsection in the middle of the pool. He immediately began to sink. But he couldn’t even worry about that. A spasm was growing in the angry organ that spread from his abdomen to his whole body, culminating in a pained cry erupting from his throat. The once-contoured but now-swollen flesh around his stomach felt so hot that he wondered if the water around it would start boiling.

“Shit,” Makoto cursed. He recognized the situation. When they were kids, Haru would never wait the recommended 30 minutes after eating before leaping right into the pool. And without fail, he would always get terrible stomach cramps. That’s what was happening right now. Except this was worse. Their pool was deep, and Haru was in too much pain to limp towards the ladder.

Makoto had to enter full lifeguard mode. As he swam, he barked orders at the rest of the Swim Club. “Guys, Haru’s cramping up!” He spluttered through the mist he generated while pumping his arms. “I’m gonna go get him!” Rei and Nagisa exchanged distressed glances.

Haru was a good half-meter under the water by the time Makoto reached him. He wrapped his arms around the raven-haired swimmer and began to tug him to the wall. Progress was slow, and each second drove a stake of fear farther into the backstroker’s heart. Haru looked unconscious. And from the violent splashing, it was hard to tell if he was breathing.

When he reached the end of the pool, Rei and Nagisa helped pull the two out of the water. Haru fell limply against the concrete. The water from his body streaked off and formed a dark silhouette around him.

“No, no no, Haru!” Makoto cried. He pounded his fists against the boy’s chest turning his head to the side and shaking him, but nothing seemed to work. He leaned a delicate ear right up to his slightly parted lips and heard breathing. Shallow, but there. A good sign, at least.

“C’mon, Haruka!” Nagisa screeched. “Makoto is the only one who’s allowed to drown!”

Makoto’s green eyes grew wild as they scanned the unconscious body of his best friend. His chest rose mere millimeters. There was no way he was getting enough oxygen. That meant drastic measures needed to be taken.

Without so much as a second thought, Tachibana Makoto surged forward and locked his lips against the clammy ones of Nanase Haruka. He blew with gentle force, hoping to clear the water out of the airway.

Rei, Nagisa, and Kou all gasped at the site of their vice-captain and captain swapping spit. In an emergency context, nonetheless. That was their main concern.

Makoto gave a few more experimental puffs of air into Haru’s chest before his eyes snapped open. Mako flew backwards, and just in time, as Haru flipped onto his side, retched, and brought up a massive wave of barely-digested parfait.

Kou screamed, covered her face, and went running towards the locker rooms. Rei followed soon after, pressing one hand to his mouth and the other to his own stomach. Only Nagisa stayed behind to survey the scene in front of them, chipper as ever.

Haru gasped, coughed, and spluttered as pink drool and pool water dripped from his panting mouth. His stomach felt worse than ever. Seriously like it was on fire, caving in on itself and taking Haru with it. He jumped when he felt a cool hand begin rubbing his bare back between the shoulder blades. It was Mako.

“Shh,” he cooed. “It’s okay, Haru.” He rubbed gentle circles in the angular muscles and brushed strands of saturated black hair out of his face. With a disgusting watery groan, Nanase spewed another pastel mouthful. Mako grimaced but continued comforting the sick swimmer.

Nagisa leaned forward to examine. “Dude, you puked up a whole strawberry!” The short blond was right. Sitting in the middle of the stinking puddle was a full strawberry: warped and discolored nonetheless, yet completely intact.

“Nagisa, now is not the time,” Makoto growled over the retching sounds of his friend. Nagisa shut up and stepped back as the pink pool grew in diameter.

Haru gave one last feeble burp and brought up a final mouthful of stomach sauce. He groaned, laying a tentative hand on his belly, then falling flat on his back on the damp concrete. Nagisa and Makoto leaned over him.

“You done?” Makoto asked. His pity instinct was wearing off. Now he was left with disappointment and a little bit of anger. “What possessed you to eat an inhuman amount of dairy and immediately start swimming? Don’t you know you’re supposed to wait? Have you learned nothing after all these years of stomachaches and cramps?”

Haru opened a single eye to stare at his disgusted and scowling captain. He coughed weakly, as the acidic geysers had burned his throat raw. “I guess not,” he croaked.

Makoto could only roll his eyes and extend a hand out to his friend. “C’mon, let’s get you some water.”

Instinct kicked in and Haru began to crawl back to the pool.

“Water to DRINK, you idiot!” Mako roared as he restrained the ravenette and dragged him towards the school.

#vomit tw #cramps #drowning tw #kinda #july 27 2017 #sickdays3 #submission

8 notes · View notes