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with-my-calamitous-love · 10 hours

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A DWINDLING, MERCURIAL HIGH

odasaku x reader

long fic, angst, brief smut, themes of abusive marriage/family poverty, cheating, pregnancy

a/n: i had to split this into two parts! it was getting so long but i wanna get this out now. part two is in the works <3

a/n: mourning someone a lot recently, someone who’s love i can still feel. this one is very self indulgent and i hope you enjoy

you were 18 when you met odasaku, and 18 when you were forced apart.

in the bustling city of yokohama, it was often hard to find serenity.

it often felt like the city’s people never truly rested. they tore through the streets like a bullet through paper. always a place to go. always an important job to make little money at, always a date for a failing relationship, always somewhere to be and somewhere to go. no matter where you drove, walk or ran to, there was almost never a place that felt calm. not boring, as others would call it. calm. like a checkpoint just for you. so when you did find those hidden caverns, forgotten by the world to busy to pay attention, you savoured it.

you thought of it like your superpower. being able to scope out the places of sweet refuge.

the hidden away, small coffee shop covered by graffiti- small you called cozy and graffiti you called art- was rourou cafe. you knew the owners well. it seemed only you knew to order the green curry because it tasted the best with the jasmine rice they always served fresh. it didn’t taste like the pompous food they served only to the finest, with refined flavours and an astonishingly large bill that always managed to ruin a meal. it had the aroma of comfort, and the flavour of home.

kogaya park was a sight for sore eyes on your long walk home. in its heyday, it seemed to be the only right place for a romantic confession. now, you see couples lose their love like the trees lose their leaves to the enemy we call time. you met an old man there once. he was blind, yet saw the world better than anyone you had ever known. “[y/n],” he spoke in slow breaths like the sun rising over the land before anyone had awoke in its grace. “age is not a number. age is how many times you’ve felt the suns warmth. age is how many times you’ve heard a beautiful song. age is how many times your feet have carried on and moved you forward. when i die, that is what i’ll remember.” you knew he was a man who bared stories like they were his clothes. this park was the only place where the warmth of the sun remained uncovered, the only place he could slow down and feel. you felt that too.

your favourite place, if you could truly choose, had to have been the aishi library.

part of it was that you worked there, and so loving it made your mundane tasks easier. but you were by no means forcing yourself to love it. it seemed everyone who walked in and out were much like you- people who longed for a quiet life. while you spent your hours of the day sorting books into shelves and keeping the place clean, after hours was the true beauty of it all. you’d bury yourself in the stories, pages that opened a gateway to different worlds. relationships that lasted, lives that were fair, and endings that truly mattered. those pages were your true home. fantasies are much nicer than reality, anyway.

perhaps the reason not everyone found escapes as easy as you was because they never needed to.

ever since you were young, you were always forced to search for something more pleasant. you were someones daughter, and that meant helping with dinner and hoping that the sound of chopped vegetables and boiling water could overpower the sounds of your parents falling apart in the other room. being someones daughter meant trying to heal your mothers trauma while she hid away in the closet, scared to come out and look for you knowing he might be there too. being someones daughter meant forgiving your father over and over again. not because you truly forgave him, but because you didn’t want to find out what would happen if he knew that.

your father was a dangerous man. one who owed debts to unsavoury people. people you had only read about in books. people you would soon come to know all too well.

as the days passed on, you grew more and more reliant on that little library. winter soon came, and the familiar faces you knew slowly began to phase out. people left to be somewhere warmer, and you knew that longing for warmth better than anyone else. you stayed focus on the task in front of you, arranging a pile of books back into their rightful homes.

ring!

the front door bell announces that someone has walked inside. in your peripheral, you see him- a young man you presume- enter the library and scan his surroundings. you look over your shoulder. indeed you were right, a young man you had never seen before. soft, reddish brown hair framing his strong jawline with eyes like the ocean to match. he dressed well, you noticed as a tinge of blush blooms on your cheeks.

he notices you too, and smiles.

you immediately turn back to your books.

all is still for a moment. he walks around for a bit, examining his choices of stories to read. he carries a pen and paper by his hip, as if ready to note the anecdotes of life at a moments notice. he must have been writer. or maybe you were thinking of him a little too much.

“excuse me, ma’am. do you have a book you’d recommend?”

wow. you thought. his voice was deep but honeyed. you turn to face him, as he gets a good look at you without your nose stuck in a book.

wow. he thinks as well upon seeing you.

“follow me.”

you take him to your favourite section, the fantasy novels. the stories that made real life seem like a poorly written, unfinished drama. “any one of these here are beautiful reads, i would know.”

you pulled out a velvety green book from the bottom shelf. “but if i had to recommend, i’d start here.” you handed the book over to him like it were a prized possession.

“the cave of two lovers?” he asked, curious blue eyes scanning the treasure you had gifted him.

“the story of oma and shu, two lovers from enemy villages who-‘’ you began to ramble. “oh i wouldn’t want to spoil it!”

he smiled again. “i’ll have to give it a try, then.”

you had grown terribly fond of your new friend, odasaku. he’d make sure to come in once a week at least to tell you his thoughts on your recommendations. the setting sun by osamu dazai was a riveting read, one that he’d lazily get back into while eating the green curry you let him in on. the tears of the kingdom, the story of a princess and her knight torn apart by evil was the book he relaxed into while at kogaya park. he even spent a day reading his favourite verses to a kind old man who reminded odasaku of himself. he absolutely adored the cave of two lovers, but thought that the avatar’s love- it’s sequel- deserved a better ending. he felt as though zuko and katara would have been a much better fit.

“i’m glad you’re enjoying youself.” you hummed while you sorted away more books. odasaku had taken it upon himself to help you with this task, reaching the taller shelves you couldn’t get to- much to your dismay. and he insisted he didn’t mind, though he was embarrassed to admit he did it simply to he around you more. everytime he’d reach over you, you were gifted the scent of his cologne and the sight of him. you could spend the rest of your life putting books away with him.

“you have great taste. i’m happy to come here.” odasaku paused in his tasks to admire your rhythm. every now and then you’d pick up one of your precious books, flip through the pages before sorting it alphabetically. sometimes you had to run and grab tape or pen, but it didn’t matter how far those were- you knew the library like the back of your hand. he knew you spent a lot of time here and hoped he wasn’t intruding.

“i’m happy you like my recommendations. i don’t always like to share my favourites.” you hum, now facing him and giving him your attention. “the people who come here don’t usually care about what i think.”

“well, i do.” he reassures you, his lips forming into a smile that could light up the world. “but i actually have a recommendation for you.”

“oh?”

“i recommend..” he placed down the book he was holding and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over yours in small strokes. “that you let me take you out tonight.”

your heart nearly leaped out of your chest.

“we can go to that cafe you introduced me too. i find it lovely, but maybe more so with you there, [y/n.]” the way he said your name made you melt, like molten honey dripping from his lips. each syllable of your name sounded like poetry as soon as he said it.

“i’d love that.” he took your hand and brought it to his face, pressing a kiss to your wrist. his blue eyes didn’t blink once as he stared at you. he had feelings and knew you felt them too, and he was taking advantage of that now.

in hindsight, you wished he would have just pressed his lips to yours and made you his right then and there. because life gives you no warning when it changes, and that night it was all about it change.

as soon as the door to your house swung open, the feeling of uneasiness rushed at you. something screamed wrong, and you were about to find out why. you followed the sounds of anguish to your living room, finding your mom on the couch. her head was buried in her hands wrinkled with guilt and age. you were used to the sight of her crying, but never without reason.

seated across from her was a man you had never seen before. dressed in a black suit with hair like midnight, tied in a neat ponytail. his white gloved hands sat orderly in his lap, a disturbingly calm contrast to your mother in distress.

“mom, whats going on?” you cautioned as you sat down next to her weeping form. she slowly removed her hands shielding her face, turning to you. her eyes screamed pity.

“[y/n], we h-have a visitor. this man is ogai mori, and well… he’s your fathers boss.”

mori smiled, his eyes piercing through your soul and screaming nothing but bad news. “it’s very nice to meet you ms. [l/n], i’ve head very good things.” his words seemed nice on paper, but his tone spewed venom.

“ms. [l/n], i’m sure your aware that your father owes me quite a bit. your family is also struggling to stay afloat right now.. i’ve come here to tell you that that will no longer be an issue for you.” he smiled, but hie eyes remained sinister.

you looked to your mother desperately for answers. how could your debt have been solved so easily? why was she crying if all your problems had supposedly been solved?

“ms. [l/n], kindly lend me your hand.”

hesitantly, you reached out your hand- the same hand that has previously been blessed by odasaku mere hours before. his slender and much larger fingers grasped your palm as he slid a silver ring onto your finger.

you froze. cold sweat dripped down your forehead at the sight. you jerked back, staring down at the ring mori had forced on you.

no. no. no. no. no. no. NO.

“what the fuck is this supposed to mean?!” you cried, knowing what it meant but not wanting to accept it. your mothers tears dried, motioning behind you. it was only then when you noticed the suitcase of clothes- your clothes- packed and ready. your mother looked down. she looked ashamed.

“ms. [l/n], don’t be startled. we have plenty to do together, afterall.”

meanwhile, odasaku sat and waited patiently at rourou cafe. he was deep in thought, worry and insecurity rattling in his shaky hands. everything seemed find when he had asked you to this date. maybe his worst fears were true. maybe there was nothing between you after all.

“is [y/n] coming?” the cafe owner asked.

odasaku shook his head.

7 years later.

you had thought that marrying the leader of the port mafia was punishment enough. you cried and cried and cried, mourning what you had lost in the blink of an eye. your husband reminded you that this was the contract that your father signed you off to- now that you two were married, your family could live debt free. but that wasn’t your choice. it was decided for you.

it wasn’t just a marriage where you turned into some pretty housewife- no. mori had taken it upon himself to train you. to turn you into one of his most deadly weapons. you hated it. you hated learning to shoot and to look away as you stole the breath of someones life. but over the years, your heart hardened, and your tears dried. perhaps it would a good thing he had made you this way. now not even he could touch you.

long were the days you read and weeped for the fictional. ougai had promoted you to executive status, a rare feat for someone with no ability. but your skills were exceptional, and only the broken could do such unspeakable work. that had to have been why he broke you in like a god damn shoe, after all.

but no matter how much he forced your heart to fortify, someone stayed in your mind. someone who left his kiss on your now wedded hand.

you had influence within the mafia. as an executive and as ougai’s wife, you knew that you could track down odasaku. you knew that you could have your men summon him into your office with the snap of your fingers. so why didn’t you?

your high heels tapped against the floor as you were just about to turn a corner. you head the voices of some subordinates, mocking your name.

“theres chuuya, the short ginger, kouyou, the hot one, and queen bitch [y/n] mori. what does that make you, just some bandage freak?”

you peered the corner to see two of your subordinates, challenging your fellow-executive dazai. you were always a fond of him, and by the smirk on his face when you turned the corner, he seemed quite fond of you too.

“ah ah ah boys, you’re going to regret what you just said.” he provoked them further. its clear that whatever he was doing he was clearly aware of. he was a demon prodigy- yet he had his fun toying with the minds of others.

“oh yeah? why’s that?” one of the men challenged.

dazai chuckled. “queen bitch, you say?“

“bitch! i bet shes only one of you fancy ass executives because shes married to the boss!”

“ahem.”

dazai chuckled and backed up, giving you room to enter the scene. the two boys blood ran cold at your sight.

you slammed the particularly loud one into the wall, pressing your arm up against his chest. the other bolted in the opposite direction.

“y-y-[y/n]! i didnt mean any of that! we were just j-joking around..”

“you don’t get to address me by my name.” your voice was cold as ice. no one had called you by your name in years. no one you would ever let.

your knee flew up, hitting him right in the crotch. you released him from the wall and watched as he wailed, grabbing the sensitive area in pain. you began to walk away, dazai following shortly after you.

“what are you doing? you’re an executive, act like it.” you spewed. dazai sighed like a little boy.

“well, i only stepped in to investigate all the things they said about you! so really, you should be thanking me.” you chuckled; childlike stupidity was always funny.

later that evening, you found yourself desperately needing a drink. the mafia was fond of a few different bars in the surrounding area, but one you knew of well was lupin. it was a cozy and elegant setting, one that reminded you of your past enough to draw you in but not too much that it made you want to burn it down.

you ordered a glass of white wine, drinking it down as though you never used to hate the taste of alcohol. so far, you’ve managed to shut down every piece of your past. this was you now. you couldn’t escape anymore, you had become the thing you hid away from all those years ago. and you had no choice but to move forward.

“whiskey, neat.”

the man next to you ordered. his voice was comforting, but you knew not to be lured in. only the mafia came to this bar, and that meant everyone waa bad news.

but, you couldn’t resist tilting your head and hearing him speak. he was a deep, husky baritone, one that made you wonder who’s lips it came from. you looked down at your wine glass and lightly spun it, watching the liquid as it sloshed! around the cup in boredom.

you wondered what your name would sound like in his voice.

“[y/n]?”

you chuckled to yourself, knowing your imagination called out to you in delusion.

that was, until the voice called out again.

“[y/n]…”

you finally looked over, and there he was.

age had done odasaku justice. he looked stronger and adjusted, like his life had sculpted him into a beautiful man. those eyes stayed the same. the ones you had dreamed about for years.

your lips stayed agape. his blue eyes examined the sight in front of him. he noticed you changed as well. your sweet blush, gentle hands, and forgiving eyes had been buried away. you seemed older, like life forced you into a corner you fought back to. but you were still fucking beautiful.

“i-i, wow, odasaku. i mean. you look great.” you spoke as if you slapped the few words in english you learned when you were 5.

he was forgiving, and chuckled at your demeanour. “is that your way of making it up to me?” he teased.

“no! god no! i- wow. i mean, what are you doing here?” you questioned. you had to admit that the subtle reference to the past caused you a tinge of pain. but all you could do is be thankful that he was actually here, alive and well in front of you.

“i could ask the same about you.. though, since we’re both here, we can assume one thing.” odasaku’s eyes never lingered off of you, as if he wasn’t trying to lose the image of you in his mind.

“i see… i guess life forced you into this as well.” you spoke before taking a deep sip of your wine.

“i guess so. but i never stopped thinking of you.” there it was. odasaku’s warmth, his radiance like the sun that kept you warm throughout the harshest 7 year winter you had endured. you wanted to bathe in it forever. he placed his hand on your thigh, moving closer to you. but something caught his eye.

“you’re married?” he asked, tone changing to confused as he looked down at your silver ring. he remembered that hand, the one he wished he could hold the rest of his life.

to be honest, you had completely forgotten about that as soon as you saw odasaku. “oh!” you took your hand and studied the ring. “yes, i’m married to ougai.” that last part of your sentence fell flat with resentment.

this was the moment odasaku had realized how much you’ve changed. how could someone as sweet as you marry that monster? but oda knew to act better than he felt.

“i see..” he calmly replied, removing his hand from your thigh and finishing his whiskey. you panicked, knowing that look of disappointment all too well. you had seen it on many men before you, but his seemed more worried than anything.

“i’m so sorry if i made you think..” you lied through your teeth, trying to comfort the man in front of you.

“its okay, [y/n]. a beautiful woman like you.. it was bound to happen.” he reassured you, knowing that the rose of love had its thorns.

the way he said your name broke down every wall inside your head. god, how you wanted to tell him the truth of your marriage. how it hurt knowing he simply thought loved another man. how it hurt he didn’t know that that man was him.

“i’m really glad i ran into you, odasaku.”

“i’m glad to see you, [y/n].”

the rest of the night you spent laughing and chatting like you never had before, taking you back to your secret book club meetings with just him years before. this is what warmth felt like. you hadn’t felt that in years.

it started out with simple, nightly phone calls. you’d call him on your way back home since ougai worked such late nights and often didn’t bother to check on you. oda would. he’d text you to confirm you’d got home and wait up for your goodnight text.

it then evolved into private, clandestine meetings at the bar. you’d meet late into the night, sometimes joining ango and dazai in their chats. odasaku would introduce you as a mere “friend”, though everyone knew that that title felt wrong on many levels. you pretended not notice odasaku take a swig of his drink everytime your husband was brought up in conversation.

but you relearned everything you loved about odasaku. his jokes, his way with words, and how he always managed to make everyone the worst parts of yourself feel like a eulogy. he had filled your empty heart with something you longed for. something you hadn’t felt from your parents in years, something your husband had never given you once: love.

you didn’t mean for it to happen. but you were falling back in love with him.

well, its not like you tried to stop it.

and even though odasaku was a man of class, and wanted to respect the vow of marriage, he too could not deny the lingering feelings he had kept like a locket all these years. and it burned inside of him knowing that even though his words were the ones you kept in your heart, at night you laid next to another man. he was the man that held your hand on hard long days, but it was not his ring that wedded you. that even though he loved you more than the air he breathed, you were married to ougai mori.

it wasn’t him. it wasn’t him. but it should have been. he thinks every time he sees that fucking ring on your finger.

odasaku could be content knowing that at least, you were loved by another man. but you weren’t. the more he learned about your marriage, the harder it became to act better than he felt. he wanted to respect that you were a wife, someone else’s wife, but that was some made up vow on a sheet of paper somewhere. your heart belonged to him.

odasaku had taken you to the rooftop of his apartment. it was late at night, so late that you thought even the stars had longed to go to sleep. you knew ougai would begin to grow suspicious, but right now your fear was overpowered by the man beside you.

he held you close with a firm arm wrapped around your waist, securing you to your rightful place by his side. your eyes watched as the stars blanketed the night sky in a bright hue that stretched for infinity, singing a choir of celestial beauty that only those fortunate enough could see each night. you watched the sky, and oda watched you.

all these years and you still looked so fucking beautiful. bathed in the moonlight, you heart was beating like it were about to burst. you turned to face him, placing your hands on his chest and allowing yourself to be enveloped by his scent. he hummed in response, hands keeping a firm grip on your waist as if you would be pulled away from him at any second.

you never wanted to kiss someone more desperately than now.

“i love you.” you whispered, finally allowing your heart to breath. for what felt like the first time in 7 years, you spoke the truth.

odasaku let his forehead drop, pressing it against yours. his eyes closed, hands never wavering from off your body. he felt like you lifted bricks off of his back, confirming that you had felt the same for him all these years. but there was just one problem.

“you’re married, [y/n].” he wanted to scream. scream how it was unfair, scream how you should be married to him instead. but his lips could only muster our the first half of the truth. he had to put you first, always.

you scoffed. “do you really care?”

that right there, was all he needed. “no.”

he pressed his lips to yours with passionate fervour, like he were to die without feeling your kiss. you wasted no time returning the favour, pouring every ounce of your love for him. odasaku kissed you like he hopelessly, desperately needed you- every bit of you. probably because he did.

you desperately grasped his shoulders as he used one hand to cup your face, the other remaining diligently on your waist. you were pushing him past his limits. your beautiful eyes, waist shaped like it was just for him, and a soul that could dare any man to fall in love with you.

you couldn’t stop kissing, even when both your lungs scratched for air. you only pulled apart to look into his eyes once more before going back in, pressing your lips to his like he was your lifebuoy. you needed to feel him, all of him. you needed his love. you were deprived of it for years and subjected to a hell without it. but he was here now, and god damn it if you weren’t going to feel all of him. your husband waited for you in a barren, cold apartment, but the love of your life kissed you under the warm gaze of the heavens.

you were what he needed. he was what you needed. this is what love felt like.

you were everything he wanted love to be, and he wasn’t going to stop at just your lips.

for a man so gentle, sweet and loving, you had never expected him to be this way in bed.

“odasaku!” you moaned out of breath, barely being able to speak his full name. he thrusted his thick, throbbing cock into your pussy. he groaned, relishing in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him. he pinned your hands above your head, while his free hand rubbed circles on your throbbing clit. he fucked you like he was going to lose. he needed to feel you, all of you.

the sounds of skin slapping echoed throughout the room. with a sharp thrust, he buried himself deep inside your willing body, a guttural groan of pleasure escaping his lips. “this is where you belong. not with him, with me.” he reassured you as he pressed his lips to your already hickey-infested neck. he was going to send you home with his marks. he was going to make sure your piece of shit husband knew who you really loved you. he might have been married to you, but odasaku was the one who fucking you now.

he set a relentless pace, pounding into you with ruthless abandon as he chased your pleasure. he wanted you to forget ever feeling unloved, only being able to think of the way his cock fucked you. the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the air, and by the end of the night you would only be able to remember his name.

he continued to pound into your pussy. your desperate moans and cries of pleasure fuelled his relentless pace. he reveled in the feeling of your tight heat enveloping his throbbing cock, the sensation almost enough to make him lose control. he let out a deep moan as he leaned down, his lips and teeth hungry against your flesh. he sucked and nipped at the soft skin of your breasts, determined to leave his mark - a possessive display that would show the world that you belonged to him and him alone.

“f-fuck! fuck oda… fuck please.. i need you.” you desperately cried out to him as you felt your core begin to slowly unravel itself. you were coming undone from underneath him. gripping your hips firmly, he resumed his relentless pace, his thick shaft plunging into your body over and over. the sound of your shared moans and the slap of skin on skin filled the air as he chased your release, intent on thoroughly ruining you for anyone else.

“i’m gonna cum.. fuck please…” you cried out. he kissed your chin as he felt himself come close as well. his vision swam with stars, his only mission now to plant himself so deep inside of you your husband couldn’t even think of touching you. he clutched your hips with bruising force, driving himself in as deep as he could go. with a few more sharp snaps of his hips, you let out a cry of ecstasy as his release crashed over him and you hot spurts of cum flooding their intimate embrace. he let out a groan as your pussy clenched around him so tight, cumming around his cock desperately. he continued to pump into you slowly, drawing out your orgasm. you were practically seeing stars.

slowly, he pulled out, a trickle of his spent release dripping down your thighs. leaning in, he placed a possessive kiss on the nape of their neck, a satisfied l smile playing on his lips. he removed himself from on top of you and laid down beside you. odasaku pulled the blanket over the two of you, pulling you closer to him and his embrace. he kissed all over your face, making sure that you were okay. you lazily nodded, reassuring him that you simply needed to come back down to earth.

your head fell into the crook of his neck, allowing the sleep to overtake you. for the first time in your life, you laid next to someone who loved. odasaku could sleep soundly, knowing you were safe. knowing you were with him.

“my wife, i was so worried about you the other night. tell me dear, where have you been?”

bullshit. you thought.

ougai had summoned you into his office, a rather rare occurrence considering your relationship. if he wanted to assign you a job, he’d simply call you. when he wanted to see you in person, it was because he needed to see you. as a doctor with extensive knowledge on the human body, ougai knew how ro detect a lie. but you knew how to hide one well.

“i was assisting the black lizard in a raid.” not a complete lie. hirotsu was a personal friend of yours, and often called upon you as backup. he also had a distaste for mori, so he’d have no problem confirming this in your favour.

ougai pressed his lips into a calculated smirk. “i see.” something was up. he was testing you.

“my dear… the mafia speaks of you in such high regard.” he began, turning in his chair and facing the portrait behind him. he had a painting of you made, one that required you to stand in an uncomfortable silk dress that barely fit you properly for hours on end. he didn’t want a wife, he wanted something beautiful he could own.

“they speak of your power and your beauty, your voice and your and your heart. many think of you like a goddess, and their eyes twitch with jealousy upon learning that you are married to me.”

your brows furrowed. “whats your point?”

he stepped up, carefully walking towards you. that wretched smile of his never fell off his lips, and it was anything but comforting. he moved until he was mere inches away from you, leaning in to your ear.

“what would they think if they… knew you were pregnant with another mans child?”

#bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd fanart #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs fanart #bungo stray dogs manga #bungou stray dogs #oda sakunosuke #bsd odasaku #odasaku sakunosuke #bungo stray dogs odasaku #odazai #odasaku x reader #dazai and odasaku #oda bsd

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hazbinextgeneration · 1 year

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Demon Bride Ch3 Dealings With Fate P2

(WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS!!! EVERYONE in this story is in their early 20s-30s! This story will contain mentions of past abuse and death! I'll be keeping it as SFW. Some backstories have been slightly altered for this particular story, and some characters cannonically dead or harmed is alive and well. I own nothing.

Credit to @flanelltees for the designs I based the demons off to look more demon-like with tails and pointed ears.

This story will be sfw, but there will be some blood, implied death, fighting, some gore mentioned, and a few other things that will be made aware by warnings. Pay attention to warnings at the top of any chapters just under the summery please.)

Once in the mountain villages it was a custom that once a year on the night of the new year's first moon, an unlucky young lady would be selected and left for the demons to become one of the unlucky few who married such a husband. In exchange for this offering the demons would protect the villages and leave the humans in peace. Until one day a powerful warrior drove the demons away freeing the humans of them. Now 2,000 years later, it's become a tradition that once a year, a new young lady would be picked and wait for her future husband to retrieve her from a shrine in the mountains. And now the lucky tradition would fall upon Y/n L/n. It would be her own turn to take on the tradition and not have to worry about demons. After all that part of the old tradition was just fake, made up by paranoid ancestors. Everyone knew demons didn't exist.

...Right?

(WARNINGS: None in this chapter .)

First Part Here:

https://at.tumblr.com/hazbinextgeneration/demon-bride-ch-1-thus-it-begins/dibtpmvn5d42

Last Part Here:

https://at.tumblr.com/hazbinextgeneration/demon-bride-ch2-dealings-with-fate/iyf330adf17j

Next Part Here:

https://at.tumblr.com/hazbinextgeneration/demon-bride-ch4-freedoms-grasp/7qp8bhg34ufh

The deal was agreed upon. The cards were set. The dice had been rolled. And all parties were now aware of the price that would be taking place. Six weeks. You had just six weeks to figure out and plan how you were going to be able to pull this off. One problem was solved. You before had no choice but to pay back the debt by marrying either Shinazugawa brother, but luckily the Elder HAD agreed to the terms and agreement of your deal, so now you did have a choice. Not only a choice, but a CHANCE!! But with it came two other questions and problems.

How are you going to get the last five coins you need in just six weeks? And once you DO get the coins, how are you going to get out of marrying anyone?

Both of them equally carried different problems. It took you nearly a third of the year just to save up enough coins after buying food and anything else you needed. Five coins may not seem like a lot to most people, but when you lived in poverty just doing odd chores to survive, then it was extremely hard. You were SURE you could do it if you worked yourself hard enough, but then that left an even BIGGER problem. How were you going to ensure you wouldn't be married off to anyone else the Elder chose for you? Sanemi or not, you were STILL chosen to be the next one married so like it or not....You would still be forced to wed someone the Elder chose, and you were absolutely SURE he already had picked someone else for you to marry. Once someone was chosen to do the New Year Full Moon Marriage Right, there wasn't backing out. So while you may escape your fate with the debt, you'll never escape your fate of being trapped to someone in the village. If not Sanemi or Genya then you'll just be married off to someone else in one of the mountain villages. It could be anyone from Rengoku who was a different villages' protector but he often came by to visit a few friends he made in this village. From what you knew he was a very loud but kind man who enjoyed sweet potatoes. Or maybe it could be your villages' resident blacksmith Hatoru. For as long as you could remember, the blacksmith often wore a mask on top of other clothes to keep his face and features hidden from sight, even if it was blistering hot. You heard a rumor it was because one too many people mistook him for a woman but considering you couldn't remember the last time he had the mask off, you weren't sure yourself. It could even be as someone as unexpected as the man known as Zenitsu. The blonde haired man was a-...Strange one. Don't get you wrong. You ran into the blonde often as he was often wondering the village doing work for one of the Elders of the village who took him in, a man everyone usually referred to as 'Gramps'. He was once a fierce samurai who served the mightiest of lords before his injuries forced him to retire, he took Zenitsu in as a child after a misfortune befell him. Zenitsu was a kind man but often...naive and was taken advantage of as a young child. Gave all his life savings to a girl he loved and then she vanished without a trace from your village leaving Zenitsu in deep trouble with no one to turn to until 'Gramps' took him in. You felt sorry for the blonde who crushed easily, but he wasn't someone you would want as a life partner, not that you wanted to marry anyone here anyways. Which is why you had to figure out a way to get away from this.

That night you couldn't sleep. Too consumed by the thoughts and nightmares of being trapped with someone like Sanemi to do so, but the reality of the situation was set in stone just a few days later. Your mind and body had been on autopilot the entire time. A routine you've always had in your life. Get up, work hard, earn and save as much as you could, and then sleep only to repeat the cycle first thing in the morning the next day. The blur was shattered glass when a small girl came to interrupt your work. Today you had been hauling heavy bales of hay from a nearby field into a barn for a farmer ...all for one measly coin, but it'd be ONE measly coin you wouldn't have to worry about. You'd eat tomorrow..or very late tonight if you can talk the farmer into giving you one of his potatoes. You were dragging a particularly HEAVY bail towards the barn all the way on the opposite side of the field, dragging it a few inches at a time. Your hands in tight fists around it knuckles with, your chest heaving for breath with each step you took, and your feet tired after dragging ten others before this one across the field to the barn and lifting them to stack them on top of each other. You didn't hear the small footsteps approaching you until they stopped and you continued to drag the bail farther and farther along the field until someone was standing beside you. You looked at her and then jolted in surprise not noticing her before but you instantly recognized her. It was one of Elder Ubuyashiki's daughters. It was hard not to recognize the twins. They were always beside their father helping the illed man or running errands or delivering messages for them. The one you were looking at was the twin with white hair and purple eyes, she dressed in that purple kimono of hers with the flower pins in her hair. She didn't seem to react to your surprised jump and only looked at you in a way her father always did. The resemblance between himself and his children was uncanny. The twins couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen if you remembered right.

"You must forgive me for startling you," she politely apologized with a small bow of her head, "But I've come to retrieve you for the choosing."

"Uh...Chosing?...Chosing of what?," you asked blinking and lost at her.

"Of the women who'll be the ones who help you plan and get you ready for the wedding of course. You have yet to chose. Many women in the village have volunteered their services already." Ah...Right. You forgot word around her spread like wild fire. She calmly gestured behind her. "There is a selection already waiting for you to chose from. If you'll please follow me."

You shook your head. "I can't. I have four more bails after this one to put away." You nudged the bail you still held with a foot to make her look at it. "I have to finish this job if before nightfall if I want to earn that coin."

She frowned a little before tilting her head. "Forgive me for my confusion, but are you saying hauling these bales of hay when you can complete the job later is more important than picking help for your eventual wedding?"

DONT REMIND ME!! You wanted to yell at the young girl, but held your tongue when you remembered she was innocent in this situation. After all you shouldn't shoot the messenger. So instead you nodded and started hauling it again. "YES!! Tell the elder I'll pick tomorrow!"

"My apologies again," she stepped along and Greeeaaattt she was following you now, "But you already have something scheduled for tomorrow and every other day after that in order to prepare for the wedding."

Every other day after that!? But then that mean you wouldn't have time to work off the rest of the debt! UGH!! Was that why the Elder seemed certain you wouldn't be able to do it?! With this situation breathing down your neck, you'd NEVER be able to save yourself! If only you could switch places with Kanae, then she'd be the one who would be marrying Sanemi-....Wait. Your body once again stopped and the young girl stopped next to you as you also stopped. A thought stung into your brain like a bee sting.

Why COULDN'T you just trade places with Kanae?!

The thought seemed to make your tired brain jumpstart with ideas. Yes...Why couldn't Kanae be the one who was to be married? It all made sense. Everyone heard the rumors. Everyone was EXPECTING Kanae to be married. You remembered how she looked after your announcement to be married. Just a day after the Elder made it known, you saw the Butterfly sister on the far end of town, talking with Sanemi of all people and for once the scowl he always carried was gone. Replaced with a long far off stare, one you knew all too well. For it was the same look you gave travelers leaving your village or whenever you looked to the mountain. He wanted Kanae- He loved Kanae. He didn't want you. He made that very clear when he caught you staring at them, and that look of longing turned into the most rage filled snarl you'd ever seen. Not that you blamed him. It seemed even Kanae couldn't bring herself to congratulate you because when the Kocho sisters came to give you their congratulations, Kanae wasn't among them. Aoi said it was because she was too tired, but you knew better. So ...why should you plan for your own wedding..WHEN YOU PLAN FOR KANAE'S INSTEAD!? The thought of that made you slowly smile as an idea to all your problems began to form. The girl also smiled taking it as a good sign when you looked at her.

"Are you ready to go now?"

"No. I'm staying to finish this job for that money, but I know exactly who I want to help me plan my wedding!"

"Of course. Who shall I send you tomorrow to begin the preparations?"

You couldn't help but smile wider. "Tell Mitsuri I'd like to see her bright and early tomorrow in private!"

In the end the child agreed and left and you hurried to finish the job you'd been tasked with. In the end you did manage to earn that one coin from the farmer. Measly pay for the backbreaking work you had to endure but now you had seventy six coins. Four more and you could pay off the debt in full. You still weren't sure how you'd get the last four coins in a short amount of time but you had an idea involving your home. The hard work the day before left you to collapse in your measly futon as soon as you returned home, only for your sore and tired body to be groggily woken up by a loud pounding at your door. Your groggy self had barely gotten up and managed to open the door before a woman of pink and green hair just burst through with a loud babble of her own-

"Ok! It's about time you opened the door! I was like rattling that thing for the last ten minutes before you woke up! I was afraid to accidentally break down the door you know?" ...You tiredly blinked- "Anyways, I never planned for you before so I'm going to have to start from scratch." A few thuds rang out as she just dropped multiple books and papers and other writing utensils on the floor beside a package wrapped in brown paper before sitting herself down with a louder thud. "I'm going to have to COMPLETELY start from scratch and with everything just a few weeks away it's going to be a tight fit and-...Are you even listening!?"

Your tired brain still made you look at her......before you finally realized who it was and why you wanted her here in the first place. "OH! M-Mitsuri." You yawned widely before you reached up to wipe at your eyes. "I-I'm glad you're here. I w-wanted to talk to you."

"Of course you did! You know I'm the best when it comes to planning these things!," she said before holding up two scrap clothes of two different shades of white. One a more pure white, and the other a more beige-white. "I know it's last minute, but I brought two colors I thought would contrast you well against whichever one's gonna be your groom." She held up the pure white one as you poked your head outside and looked around....No one was around...Perfect. "This one would be the best if you're marrying Genya! He usually wears black so it'll help you stick out next to him!" She then held up the other beige-white one. "However this one would contrast better against Sanemi's white hair. Don't you think?....Hey! Are you even listening to me right now?!"

"Oh trust me. I am." You slid the door closed before inhaling and slowly turning to Mitsuri who looked lightly annoyed you didn't seem to have interest in what she was saying to you. You smiled. "But I actually wanted you to sit with me and listen to my ideas for this whole wedding."

Instantly she beamed at the thought of you having ideas for this entire wedding. "Oh good. Taking some initiative! I like that in a soon-to-be bride! What did you have in mind?"

"Have you already planned ahead for Shinobu's wedding?" It was a simple question, but knowing the love-obsessed woman that was Mitsuri she would've totally done so, and like you were hoping she nodded.

"Of course I did! I'm still waiting to put that in action! *sigh*...Maybe next year."

"And I don't suppose you also did so for Kanae?"

Mitsuri blinked..before looking at you and raising a brow. "....Yes? But this isn't about her-"

"Actually." You sat yourself down in front of her with the most serious tone and look you could muster. "It IS. Because she's going to be the one to marry Sanemi. Not me."

Mitsuri seemed to blink at what you said before squinting her eyes in suspicion. "...And how are you so sure about that?"

You sucked in a breath before letting it out shakily. "Because I'm going to pay the debt I owe Sanemi and his brother." You hoped she bought it. "And the Elder said if I'm able to pay my debts to them, then I won't have to marry Sanemi." Which was the truth. "And Kanae can take my place instead!" Which was a lie but the surprise on Mitsuri's face told you she didn't know that.

"The Elder said that?"

You nodded. "Yes." You felt really, REALLY bad for lying blatantly through the smile your mouth held but it was the only way. You were NOT going to be married to Sanemi if you can help it! And you were going to make sure it didn't happen. "I'll have all the money I'll need by this Saturday, which is why I want you to go on ahead and start the preparations for Kanae's wedding instead."

Mitsuri seemed to stare at you wide eyed...before an absolute beaming smile appeared on her face and she gave a loud squeal of excitement. "Oh goodness! This IS a blessing in disguise! I already have so much planned in mind and she's going to be so happy once she hears-"

"NO!!" You had shouted and held up your hands immediately which caught the other woman off guard. "You can't tell her yet! You can't tell anyone yet! Not until I pay off Sanemi!"

That suspicious look was instantly back. "That seems ..rather suspicious of you to say so..Why?"

"Because the Elder doesn't want anyone to know about this in case I CAN'T pay off the debt," you stressed and acted annoyed like it was actually the truth. "He told me that under no circumstances was I supposed to tell anyone about his plans until I give Sanemi the money! I might already get in trouble because I told you."

....She blinked. "Oh. ...Oh, yes that does make sense. Then why did you tell me?"

"Because I plan on giving Sanemi the money this Saturday after I settle a few things!" You already KNEW how to get the last four coins you needed and you knew how you were going to turn this around. Whether everyone else liked it or not. "I already have everything I need. I just need you to please just go on and start with her preparations while I finish everything. And PLEASE don't tell anyone. We could all get in serious trouble if we go announcing it before the Elders do. I wouldn't want to upset Kanae anymore than she is at the moment, I want her to be happier." And you meant that last part too.

Mitsuri seemed to frown at the mention of Kanae's disappointment before nodding. "Yes...I completely understand that." She inhaled before nodding and raising her fists. "Alright! You can count on me! I'll be sure to make Kanae's dream a reality with your help!"

You smiled relieved and sighed. A weight lifting off your shoulders. "Good. I'll make the necessary arrangements for this Saturday. In the meantime you just do what needs to be done." It was then your f/c eyes scanned over the package she had brought along and pointed towards it. "What's that?"

She hummed looking to wear you pointed. "Oh! A gift!" Gift? A flash of realization went across her face before she grabbed it and held it out to you. "It was just something I threw together last minute for all your practice trials before you're actual wedding-..Er. Well Kanae's wedding actually. At least now I won't have to start from scratch and struggle. I can just follow one of my plans!"

Practice trials package? After a moment of staring you slowly took it from her and slowly began to open it. Underneath was a plain, ordinary, everyday kimono. Like...there literally was NOT anything special about it other than it was all white. Not even fit enough for a wedding dress.

"What is this for?"

"I made it so you can practice your ceremony with it. You know, to help you feel like it's a real wedding! But now that I know you won't be doing anything like that, you can just keep it."

"Wait. Really?"

She nodded. "I have no further use for it. Besides Kanae certainly won't be able to use it either. You both are completely different sizes! I'll have to craft her a different practice dress!"

You stared at it for a moment before smiling. "I-...Thank you, Mitsuri. I like it."

She nodded before sighing. "Well...I have to change my schedule around. This completely threw me off from what I expected was going to happen."

You nodded placing the package down and standing up. "Then this concludes our business. I'll leave everything else in your hands." You then turned to the door.

"Huh? Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

You only smiled back at her sliding the door open. "To take care of some unfinished business I mentioned before."

With that you walked out and closed the door behind you. And by 'unfinished business' you meant selling your home. And you knew exactly the person who'd want to buy your home. When the elderly woman who previously owned the home passed, someone expressed interest in buying it from you. And that someone happened to be Yuki's Father. The older man was VERY interested in the home but even more so in fertile land it came with. The woman was too old to use it herself, and you barely used it except for a few crops to get you buy. You were always too busy to maintain the entirety of it. At first you rejected the many, many, MANY offers of ten coins her father always offered for the property, and while the offer was tempting, you needed the home for the time being but now??...Now that old home and property would be your salvation. It didn't take long for you to reach Yuki's home, and you found her mother sitting on the front steps of her home sewing what looked to be a new blanket for someone's futon. The older woman didn't notice you at first but looked up hearing footsteps and blinked when you stopped and smiled, pausing in her sewing.

"Good morning, Ma'am," you greeted with a bow and you hoped you didn't look too much a mess from waking up that morning. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but is your husband in? I have to talk to him."

The woman blinked for a moment before casually nodding. "Yes. Wait here and I'll fetch him for you."

You leaned back up as the woman leaned back to turn her head to the open door, and she hollered out a man's name twice before she got a response. Footsteps approached and after a moment, a middle aged man around the same age as the woman appeared, and you recognized him instantly from all the times he made an offer to you. This was definitely Yuki's father.

He seemed surprised to see you. "Yes? What is it that you want?"

"Mr. Yuki. Do you remember that offer that you made me?"

He seemed even more surprised Rasing his brows. "Yes. What about it?"

"If that offer still stands, then I'd like to take you up on it."

#Demon Slayer #Kyogai #Kyogai x reader #Douma #Douma x Reader #Hantengu #Hantengu's Clones #Hantengu's Clones x reader #Kokushibo #Kokushibo x reader #Enmu #Enmu x reader #Kaigaku #Kaigaku x reader #Akaza #Akaza x reader #Gyutaro #Gyutaro x reader #Daki

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flashbackonyourbehalf · 3 months

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Desperation

I’m terrified of poverty.

I shiver in my studio; and my cat

Is only *this* cuddly when she’s cold, too.

I push her off, though,

Feverishly filling coloring books

Just to stay sane after withstanding

The outdoors for my 9-5.

I’m scared

That it’s not enough, that

I’M NOT ENOUGH, I’ll never NOT be

Choking

Beneath the merciless boot of late-stage Capitalism. I know

That unplugging the microwave,

Turning off the heat,

And not flushing during frequent usage

Will only save a minuscule amount -

Not nearly enough to balance out the

Hard ciders and nicotine that help me cope -

Still.

It makes me feel better, despite

Efforts in vain.

The pleasure is short-lived

When I pay for parking daily and narrowly

Avoid ticket-checkers on trains and need

Battery-acid energy drinks to function.

These treats make me happy, but if I had some

GODDAMN SELF-CONTROL,

Then maybe

I could take longer showers.

And I wouldn’t worry about overdraft fees.

I want to decorate my temple

With tattoos and piercings, I want

To dye my Viking braid

Either crimson or emerald - (I can’t decide)

I want to go on dates without

Worrying

About rent, I want

To shower my loved ones with gifts,

Fill my haven with scented candles, and

Add to my ever-growing earring collection.

But I’m trapped.

Because I’m poor.

Because the cycle never ends.

And it will never be enough.

I have few spoons to spare, but maybe I could

Sell my body beyond

The 40 hour work week;

Surely there are older, wealthier

Gentlemen who see my curves

Rather than my gender - surely

I can perform in other ways

Than work requires, surely

Allowing detached vulnerability will

Fuel my self-disgust.

But, at least, I’ll be able

To buy a binder.

To dye my hair.

To decorate my body.

To afford parking and still buy lunch at work.

To buy more contact lenses.

To indulge in drinks without guilt.

To spoil my cat and my loved ones.

To pay for blood work I need for transitioning.

To make the best homemade meals, but also

To get takeout when I’m too tired to cook.

To enjoy life - rather than

Chasing dopamine.

I’ll never catch her.

She always escapes my grasp, but that sheer

Desperation

Is what will free me from this cage.

#capitalism #capitalist hell #capitalist dystopia #anti capitalist #poetry #original poetry #words #spilled poetry #spilled thoughts #thought vomit #writing #personal #personal rant #pri writes

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acefms · 9 months

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MEET WESLEY!

if you’re hearing STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM by DRAKE playing, you have to know WESLEY ‘WES’ CARTER ( HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the 40 year old RETIRED NBA BASKETBALL PLAYER has been in denver for, like, 3 YEARS. they’re known to be quite UNYIELDING, but being DAUNTLESS seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble JESSE WILLIAMS. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those A LUCKY WRISTBAND, DRINKING BURBON IN A DULLY LIT BAR, RUNNING RAIN OR SHINE, LIGHTNING STRIKES TWICE, NEVER FORGET WHERE YOU CAME FROM vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the WASHINGTON PARK long enough!

NAME: wesley ‘wes’ carter

AGE: forty

HOMETOWN: Detroit, Michigan

BIRTHDAY: april 11th

ZODIAC: aries

GENDER: male he/him

SEXUALITY: bisexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single

OCCUPATION: former star basketball player in the nba / bar owner

[ tw: poverty, car accident, severe injury/paralysis & death.]

• Wesley grew up in a loving household with two parents still together and four other siblings. Wesley is the second eldest, with one older sister, one younger sister and two younger brothers all aging from 25-45. His mother was a stay at home mom and his father worked as a basketball coach for the local team. However, a car accident would leave Wesley’s father with serious injury causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. It didn’t take long for the family to feel the strain of their fathers new reality. Wesley was in the car with his father but very luckily escaped with only a broken collarbone and several bumps and bruises.

• With seven mouths to feed, Wesley’s mother had to take on any jobs that she could, and each of the children did whatever they could to help, but nothing ever really seemed to help. Most days they’d all share a small amount of food, but despite their conditions, and many disagreements, there was only love at the core.

• Of all the siblings, Wesley showed the most promise from a very young age, taking after his father with his own love of basketball. During his younger years it was the only thing he truly could focus on to escape his reality. Star of his high school team, he was accepted into college on a full sports scholarship and did everything that he could to succeed.

• Despite a setback with his own injury during his senior year, after finishing college he was one of the top draft picks for the Detroit p.istons and soon found his career taking off. Since then, he’s played for a number of different teams and brought each one a certain level of success. At the age of thirty-seven several injuries forced him to retire, and he’s still trying to figure out who he is when he’s not playing the game he spent his entire life loving. The game that saved him, in many ways.

• His career has allowed him to give his family a better life, and no matter how much success he has, he has never and will never forget where he came from and the fight he had to put in to get to where he is today. He took every no and turned it into a yes, never once accepting defeat.

• His mother would end up passing away in her sleep 5 years ago of a suspected brain aneurysm. This was very hard for him to take, but being the sibling who always ‘fixed’ things, Wes bottled up his grief and made sure everyone else was ok. His father moved in with him, and Wes made sure he had the best medical care possible. It is also not unusual for his siblings to stay with him for long periods of time, either. But he doesn’t mind. His success is theirs as he wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.

HEADCANNONS

• He hates not being able to fix things for the people he cares about. He’s such a fixer?? Your problems come first, his can wait. Which of course makes them 100x worse but it’s cool.

• Romantic with someone? You are getting beyond spoiled.

• So competitive it’s unreal. Like no, he’s not even gonna let you win to be cute. It’s just the way he is wired to fight to be the best ? He’s sorry he doesn’t mean to be an ass about it, it was just programmed into him to show no mercy in that sense.

• Needs quiet moments to simply get through the day? His home and job are always so loud, he needs the quiet for at least five minutes or he will explode honestly.

more tba.

#chq;intro #intro | wesley.#poverty tw #car accident tw #injury tw #paralysis tw #death tw

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tetsuoo0 · 1 year

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Trying to see the silver lining, but I don’t think I’ll ever escape poverty. Or never be able to live, travel & experience things. The world is so bad.

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sin-i-gang · 3 years

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Hate that I’m 20 now and I’m abouta go to a new school and ik technically I still have time to do all the things I missed out on as a teenager bc I was too depressed to do or enjoy much of anything but fuck man with all the pressure my family is mounting on me to graduate as soon as possible and find a job, I feel like really I’ll just spend the next 2 years of my life trying to please everyone but myself and then a decade down the road I’ll feel like I wasted my youth… ANYWAY

#it’s the capitalism again innit #I hate that it’s conditioned everyone in my family to think there’s a specific frame to fit ur life into #like it’s just: finish school at age 22 ➡️ get a stable job within a couple years ➡️ get a house ➡️ have a family ➡️ retire ➡️ die #and bc I’m given such a small time frame to finish my education it just feels like I’ll never be able to do stuff I actually want #and I feel like I can’t really deviate from what my family wants bc it all goes back to why they moved from the philippines to here #like. I feel like I HAVE to be rich bc my family came to the states to escape poverty #I don’t wanna be rich #I don’t wanna be anything

0 notes

imagineyourworld · 3 years

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Paper Rings

Howzer x Genderneutral!Reader

Summary: Will you marry Howzer even though he can’t offer you the shiny things you’re used to? (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same title)

Warnings: Like one mention of war and allusion of poverty, otherwise just tooth rotting fluff

Check out my other work here

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What was he thinking? Your parents were a Duchess and Duke on your home planet, they were friends with the Syndullas, you grew up in a mansion and here Howzer was, wanting to marry you. Not only did he not have much property, most people considered him property, He couldn’t offer you what you were used to, what you deserved. But no matter how often he told himself that he shouldn’t ask you to marry him, he just had to. He couldn’t take the thought of dying without ever having told you just how much you mean to him, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life, however long, with you. But today, he finally decided, was the day. The war was over, for the first time since Howzer could remember there was something resembling peace, and you’d be arriving later that day. Just a few days ago you had commed him, telling him that you had asked your parents to let you finish your university education on Ryloth and they agreed. So you will spend the next two years right there next to him, And afterwards you could look for a job on Ryloth, or maybe, now that the war was over, Howzer could find a way to escape the army and the two of you could settle on your home planet or any corner of the galaxy you wanted. Provided you said yes. Howzer was on duty most of the day, which is why he couldn’t greet you the second you set foot on Ryloth. But as soon as his shift ended he hurried to the Syndullas’ house, in the garden of which the two of you had been secretly meeting for the past two years. Or maybe not so secretly, he thought as he saw Hera waving at him from the window of her bedroom. “Great”, Howzer muttered. He liked Hera, loved her like a little sister even, but he really didn’t want anyone watching this proposal. No one should know, in case you said no, an answer for which Howzer had to be prepared for. That’s the reason he had decided against asking for Eleni’s help in choosing a ring. Instead he had gone with a small silver band, engraved with the initials for both your and his first names. It was classic and simple. And cheap, the nagging voice in his head insisted. Of course there had been many more beautiful rings, but the truth was that he couldn’t afford any of them, even the engraving had almost blown his budget. He finally reached the bush behind which he knew you were hiding. The second he stepped around it and into your eyesight you had your arms wrapped around Howzer. “I’m so glad to see you. I missed you”, you greeted him. Howzer hugged you back for a few seconds before letting go to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “I missed you more”, he whispered, his forehead leaning against yours. You shook your head, a smile on your lips. “That’s impossible.” With a matching smile, though maybe just the slightest bit more nervous, Howzer grabbed your hand and lead you over to a thick log on the ground. As soon as the two of you sat down you rested your head on his shoulder. It wasn’t the most comfortable, due to his armour, but being uncomfortable with Howzer was million times better than being comfortable alone. Howzer tried his best not to look you in the eyes, which was a lot easier with your current position, because he knew the second you really looked at him you’d be able to tell that he was nervous about something. And he wanted to stall for just a few more moments, just in case the question he was about to ask would ruin everything. “So”, he started. “How was your day?” He didn’t need to ask twice. You began telling him all about the beautiful room the Syndullas had set you up in until you could find an apartment of your own. The university campus you had seen for the first time today and the classes you would take this semester. “I can’t believe I’m finally going back to university after I had to leave when this stupid war started. Although, without this stupid war we never would have met, so I suppose that’s one positive thing about this whole kriffing mess.” It’s now or never, Howzer thought. “Speaking of us...”, he said. He nudged your head with his shoulder to make you lift it before taking both your your hands into his and looking you deep in the eyes. “I really don’t know how to say this. I’ve tried to practice, but everything sounded wrong, so I suppose I’ll just wing it.” A horrified expression made its way to your face and if Howzer’s hands hadn’t been sweating so much he would have noticed moisture gathering in your own palms. “Howzer, my darling, are you breaking up with me?”, you asked, voice shaking and tears threatening to spill. You couldn’t believe it. Just a few days ago he had seemed so happy to have you on Ryloth with him, he had told you he loved you, and now this? Before you could do or say anything else Howzer began shaking his head frantically. “No! Stars, no! Cyare, just listen to me.” You nodded, although still a bit shaky. “I’m so happy to have you here with me for the next two years, but that made me realize, or rather it’s one of the things that made me realize, that I want to have you right next to me for the rest of my life. I don’t know how long my life will be, even now that the war is over, I don’t know what the empire will do with us clones, but if you’ll let me, I will do everything in my power to never leave your side. I know I can’t offer you much, I don’t have a mansion like the one you grew up in, or even a house to call me own, I can’t give you jewelry or fine clothes or the best food, but everything I have, everything I am, I can give to you. I offer you my heart and my soul and I promise to do whatever I can to make you happy for as long as you want me to.” After his last words he let go of one of your hands and knelt down in front of you on the ground. In the same swift motion he pulled a simple black box out of his holster where his blaster should be. “(Y/N), cyar’ika, mesh’la, my beloved, my beautiful, my darling, my sun and stars, will you marry me?” The tears that had been in your eyes earlier were now floating. Never had anyone said something like that to you, offered you so much and asked a question you never knew you wanted to hear. But Howzer, in his worried state, misinterpreted your tears. He sat the box down on the ground and put a hand on your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t want to marry a man who cannot offer you the riches you’re used to.” Tears were now making their way down his cheeks as well. You shook your head, slowly at first, then violently. How could he think that that’s why you’re crying? “Howzer, I love you. I love you whether you’re the richest man in the galaxy or the poorest, it doesn’t matter. I may like shiny things, but I’d marry you no matter what, even if you proposed with a paper ring.” Within seconds his expression went from shock to relief to pure happiness and love. He lifted the box from the ground again and opened it, showing you the ring inside. “It may not be paper, but I doubt this is worth much more.” Laughter bubbled past your lips. Without thinking you leaned down and pressed a kiss to Howzer’s forehead, another to his cheeks, his eyelids and his nose, before your lips finally connected in a loving kiss. “I still need an answer, mesh’la”, Howzer mumbled against your lips after you had separated to catch your breath. You wouldn’t have thought it possible to smile even wider, but somehow you did. “Yes. My answer is yes, Howzer. I will marry you.” With a smile matching yours, and after another quick kiss, he gently slipped the ring on your finger. And even though it was probably the cheapest thing you owned, it was also the most valuable and you loved it almost as much as the man who had given it to you.

-------

I know my usual day to post is Friday, but I was listening to Paper Rings and thinking of the latest Bad Batch episode and this fic just came to me and I couldn’t wait to write and share it.

#howzer x reader #howzer x you #captain howzer #howzer #captain howzer x reader #captain howzer x you #captain howzer imagine #howzer imagine #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch imagine #tbb imagine

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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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Anonymous asked: I have always appreciated your thoughtful views on the defence of the British monarchy, and as a university historian it’s reassuring to see someone using history to make invalubale insights to a controversial institution. I wonder what are your own thoughts on the passing of Prince Philip and what his legacy might be? Was he a gaffe prone racist and a liability to the Queen?

I know you kindly got in touch and identified yourself when you felt I was ignoring your question. I’m glad we cleared that up via DM. The truth is as I said and I’m saying here is that I had to let some time pass before I felt I could reasonably answer this question. Simply because - as you know as someone who teaches history at university - distance is good to make a sober appraisal rather than knee jerk in the moment judgements.

Contrary to what some might think I’m not really a fan girl when it comes to the royal family. I don’t religiously follow their every movement or utterance especially as I live in Paris and therefore I don’t really care about tabloid tittle tattle. I only get to hear of anything to do with the royal family when I speak to my parents or my great aunts and uncles for whom the subject is closer to their heart because of the services my family has rendered over past generations to the monarchy and the older (and dying) tight knit social circles they travel in.

Like Walter Bagehot, I’m more interested in the monarchy as an institution and its constitutional place within the historical, social, and political fabric of Britain and its continued delicate stabilising importance to that effect. It was Walter Bagehot, the great constitutional scholar and editor the Economist magazine, who said, “The mystic reverence, the religious allegiance, which are essential to a true monarchy, are imaginative sentiments that no legislature can manufacture in any people.” In his view, a politically-inactive monarchy served the best interests of the United Kingdom; by abstaining from direct rule, the monarch levitated above the political fray with dignity, and remained a respected personage to whom all subjects could look to as a guiding light.

Even as a staunch monarchist I freely confess that there has always been this odd nature of the relationship between hereditary monarchy and a society increasingly ambivalent about the institution. To paraphrase Bagehot again, there has been too much ‘daylight’ shone onto the ‘magic’ of the monarchy because we are obsessed with personalities as celebrities.

Having said that I did feel saddened by the passing of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. After the Queen, he was my favourite royal. Anne, Princess Royal, would come next because she is very much like her father in temperament, humour, and character, so unlike her other brothers.

I have met the late Prince Philip when I was serving in the army in a few regimental meet-and-greet situations - which as you may know is pretty normal given that members of the royal family serve as honorary colonel-in-chiefs (patrons in effect) of all the British army regiments and corps.I also saw him at one or two social events such the annual charitable Royal Caledonian Ball (he’s an expert scottish reeler) and the Guards Polo Club where my older brothers played.

I’ll will freely confess that he was the one royal I could come close to identify with because his personal biography resonated with me a great deal.

Let’s be honest, the core Windsor family members, born to privilege, are conditioned and raised to be dull. Perhaps that’s a a tad harsh. I would prefer the term ‘anonymously self-effacing’, just another way of saying ‘for God’s sake don’t draw attention to yourself by saying or doing anything even mildly scandalous or political lest it invites public opprobrium and scrutiny’. The Queen magnificently succeeds in this but the others from Charles down just haven’t (with the exception of Princess Anne).

However, many people forget this obvious fact that it’s the incoming husbands and wives who marry into the Windsor family who are relied upon to bring colour and even liven things up a little. And long before Kate Middleton, Meghan Markle (very briefly), or Lady Diana Spencer, were the stars of ‘The Firm’- a phrase first coined by King George VI, Queen Elizabeth II's father who ruled from 1936 to 1952, who was thought to have wryly said, "British royals are 'not a family, we're a firm,” - it was Prince Philip who really livened things up and made the greater impact on the monarchy than any of them in the long term.

Prince Philip’s passing belied the truth of a far more complex individual: a destitute and penniless refugee Greek-Danish prince with a heart breaking backstory that could have been penned by any 19th Century novelist, and also eagle eyed reformer who tried to drag the royal family into the 20th century. At the core of the man - lost scion of a lost European royal dynasty, a courageous war veteran, and Queen’s consort - were values in which he attempted to transform and yet maintain much older inherited traditions and attitudes. Due to his great longevity, Philip’s life came to span a period of social change that is almost unprecedented, and almost no one in history viewed such a transformation from the front row.

Prince Philip would seem to represent in an acute form the best of the values of that era, which in many ways jar with today’s. He had fought with great courage in the war as a dashing young naval officer; he was regularly rude to foreigners, which was obviously a bonus to all Brits. He liked to ride and sail and shoot things. He was unsentimental almost to a comic degree, which felt reassuring at a time when a new-found emotional incontinence made many feel uncomfortable. Outrageous to some but endearing to others, he was the sort of man you’d want to go for a pint with, perhaps the ultimate compliment that an Englishman can pay to another Englishman. This has its own delicious irony as he wasn’t really an Englishman.

There are 4 takeways I would suggest in my appraisal of Prince Philip that stand out for me. So let me go through each one.

1. Prince Philip’s Internationalism

It may seem odd for me to say that Prince Philip wasn’t English but he wasn’t an Englishman in any real sense. He was a wretch of the world - stateless, homeless, and penniless. That the Prince of Nowhere became the British Monarchy’s figurehead was more than fitting for a great age of migration and transition in which the Royal Family survived and even flourished. That he was able to transform himself into the quintessential Englishman is testimony not just to his personal determination but also to the powerful cultural pull of Britishness.

He was born on a kitchen table in Corfu in June 1921. A year later in 1922, Philip, as the the great-great-grandson of Queen Victoria and nephew of Constantine I of Greece, was forced to flee with his family after the abdication of Constantine. He grew up outside Paris speaking French; ethnically he was mostly German although he considered himself Danish, his family originating from the Schleswig border region. He was in effect, despite his demeanour of Royal Navy officer briskness, a citizen of nowhere in an age of movement. From a very young age he was a stateless person, nationally homeless. Indeed, Philip was an outsider in a way that even Meghan Markle could never be; at his wedding in 1947, his three surviving sisters and two brothers-in-law were not permitted to attend because they were literally Britain’s enemies, having fought for the Germans. A third brother-in-law had even been in the SS, working directly for Himmler, but had been killed in the conflict.

Even his religion was slightly exotic. He was Greek Orthodox until he converted to Anglicanism on marrying Elizabeth - what with his wife due to become supreme head of the Church and everything - but his ties with eastern Christianity remained. His great-aunts Princess Elisabeth of Hesse and by Rhine and Tsarina Alexandra are both martyrs of the Russian Orthodox Church, having been murdered by the Bolsheviks; Philip’s mother went on to become an Orthodox nun and a “Righteous Among the Nations” for saving a Jewish family during the Nazi occupation of Greece, spending much of her time in squalid poverty.

His parents were part of the largely German extended aristocracy who ruled almost all of Europe before it all came crashing down in 1918. When he died, aged 99, it marked a near-century in which all the great ideological struggles had been and gone; he had been born before the Soviet Union but outlived the Cold War, the War on Terror and - almost - Covid-19.

The world that Philip was born into was a far more violent and dangerous place than ours. In the year he was born, Irish rebels were still fighting Black and Tans; over the course of 12 months the Spanish and Japanese prime ministers were assassinated, there was a coup in Portugal and race riots in the United States. Germany was rocked by violence from the far-Left and far-Right, while in Italy a brutal new political movement, the Fascists, secured 30 seats in parliament, led by a trashy journalist called Benito Mussolini.

The worst violence, however, took place in Greece and Turkey. Following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, what remained of Turkey was marked for permanent enfeeblement by the Allies. But much to everyone’s surprise the country’s force were roused by the brilliant officer Mustafa Kemal, who led the Turks to victory. Constantinople was lost to Christendom for good and thousands of years of Hellenic culture was put to the flames in Smyrna.

The Greek royal family, north German imports shipped in during the 19th century, bore much of the popular anger for this disaster. King Constantine fled to Italy, and his brother Andrew was arrested and only escaped execution through the intervention of his relative Britain’s George V. Andrew’s wife Alice, their four daughters and infant son Philip fled to France, completely impoverished but with the one possession that ensures that aristocrats are never truly poor: connections.

Philip had a traumatic childhood. He was forged by the turmoil of his first decade and then moulded by his schooling. His early years were spent wandering, as his place of birth ejected him, his family disintegrated and he moved from country to country, none of them ever his own. When he was just a year old, he and his family were scooped up by a British destroyer from his home on the Greek island of Corfu after his father had been condemned to death. They were deposited in Italy. One of Philip's first international journeys was spent crawling around on the floor of the train from an Italian port city, "the grubby child on the desolate train pulling out of the Brindisi night," as his older sister Sophia later described it.

In Paris, he lived in a house borrowed from a relative; but it was not destined to become a home. In just one year, while he was at boarding school in Britain, the mental health of his mother, Princess Alice, deteriorated and she went into an asylum; his father, Prince Andrew, went off to Monte Carlo to live with his mistress. "I don't think anybody thinks I had a father," he once said. Andrew would die during the war. Philip went to Monte Carlo to pick up his father's possessions after the Germans had been driven from France; there was almost nothing left, just a couple of clothes brushes and some cuff-links.

Philip’s four sisters were all much older, and were soon all married to German aristocrats (the youngest would soon die in an aeroplane crash, along with her husband and children). His sisters became ever more embroiled in the German regime. In Scotland going to Gordonstoun boarding school, Philip went the opposite direction, becoming ever more British. Following the death of his sister Cecilie in a plane crash in 1937, the gulf widened. As the clouds of conflict gathered, the family simply disintegrated. With a flash of the flinty stoicism that many would later interpret, with no little justification, as self-reliance to the point of dispassion, the prince explained: “It’s simply what happened. The family broke up… I just had to get on with it. You do. One does.”

In the space of 10 years he had gone from a prince of Greece to a wandering, homeless, and virtually penniless boy with no-one to care for him. He got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

By the time he went to Gordonstoun, a private boarding school on the north coast of Scotland, Philip was tough, independent and able to fend for himself; he'd had to be. Gordonstoun would channel those traits into the school's distinct philosophy of community service, teamwork, responsibility and respect for the individual. And it sparked one of the great passions of Philip's life - his love of the sea. It was Gordonstoun that nurtured that love through the maturation of his character.

Philip adored the school as much as his son Charles would despise it. Not just because the stress it put on physical as well as mental excellence - he was a great sportsman. But because of its ethos, laid down by its founder Kurt Hahn, a Jewish exile from Nazi Germany.

Hahn first met Philip as a boy in Nazi Germany. Through a connection via one of his sister’s husbands, Philip, the poor, lonely boy was first sent off to a new school - in Nazi Germany. Which was as fun as can be imagined. Schloss Salem had been co-founded by stern educator called Kurt Hahn, a tough, discipline-obsessed conservative nationalist who saw civilisation in inexorable decline. But by this stage Hahn, persecuted for being Jewish in Nazi Germany, had fled to Britain, and Philip did not spend long at the school either, where pressure from the authorities was already making things difficult for the teachers. Philip laughed at the Nazis at first, because their salute was the same gesture the boys at his previous school had to make when they wanted to go to the toilet, but within a year he was back in England, a refugee once again.

Philip happily attended Hahn’s new school, Gordonstoun, which the strict disciplinarian had set up in the Scottish Highlands. Inspired by Ancient Sparta, the boys (and then later girls) had to run around barefoot and endure cold showers, even in winter, the whole aim of which was to drive away the inevitable civilisational decay Hahn saw all around him. To 21st century ears it sounds like hell on earth, yet Philip enjoyed it, illustrating just what a totally alien world he came from.

That ethos became a significant, perhaps the significant, part of the way that Philip believed life should be lived. It shines through the speeches he gave later in his life. "The essence of freedom," he would say in Ghana in 1958, "is discipline and self-control." The comforts of the post-war era, he told the British Schools Exploring Society a year earlier, may be important "but it is much more important that the human spirit should not be stifled by easy living". And two years before that, he spoke to the boys of Ipswich School of the moral as well as material imperatives of life, with the "importance of the individual" as the "guiding principle of our society".

It was at Gordonstoun one of the great contradictions of Philip's fascinating life was born. The importance of the individual was what in Kurt Hahn's eyes differentiated Britain and liberal democracies from the kind of totalitarian dictatorship that he had fled. Philip put that centrality of the individual, and individual agency - the ability we have as humans to make our own moral and ethical decisions - at the heart of his philosophy.

At Dartmouth Naval College in 1939, the two great passions of his life would collide. He had learned to sail at Gordonstoun; he would learn to lead at Dartmouth. And his driving desire to achieve, and to win, would shine through. Despite entering the college far later than most other cadets, he would graduate top of his class in 1940. In further training at Portsmouth, he gained the top grade in four out of five sections of the exam. He became one of the youngest first lieutenants in the Royal Navy.

The navy ran deep in his family. His maternal grandfather had been the First Sea Lord, the commander of the Royal Navy; his uncle, "Dickie" Mountbatten, had command of a destroyer while Philip was in training. In war, he showed not only bravery but guile. It was his natural milieu. "Prince Philip", wrote Gordonstoun headmaster Kurt Hahn admiringly, "will make his mark in any profession where he will have to prove himself in a trial of strength".

2. Prince Philip and the modernisation of the monarchy

In his own words, the process of defining what it meant to be a royal consort was one of “trial and error.” Speaking with BBC One’s Fiona Bruce in 2011, Philip explained, “There was no precedent. If I asked somebody, 'What do you expect me to do?' they all looked blank. They had no bloody idea, nobody had much idea.” So he forged for himself a role as a moderniser of the monarchy.

He could not have had much idea back in 1939. Back then in Dartmouth in 1939, as war became ever more certain, the navy was his destiny. He had fallen in love with the sea itself. "It is an extraordinary master or mistress," he would say later, "it has such extraordinary moods." But a rival to the sea would come.

When King George VI toured Dartmouth Naval College, accompanied by Philip's uncle, he brought with him his daughter, Princess Elizabeth. Philip was asked to look after her. He showed off to her, vaulting the nets of the tennis court in the grounds of the college. He was confident, outgoing, strikingly handsome, of royal blood if without a throne. She was beautiful, a little sheltered, a little serious, and very smitten by Philip.

Did he know then that this was a collision of two great passions? That he could not have the sea and the beautiful young woman? For a time after their wedding in 1948, he did have both. As young newlyweds in Malta, he had what he so prized - command of a ship - and they had two idyllic years together. But the illness and then early death of King George VI brought it all to an end.

He knew what it meant, the moment he was told. Up in a lodge in Kenya, touring Africa, with Princess Elizabeth in place of the King, Philip was told first of the monarch's death in February 1952. He looked, said his equerry Mike Parker, "as if a ton of bricks had fallen on him". For some time he sat, slumped in a chair, a newspaper covering his head and chest. His princess had become the Queen. His world had changed irrevocably.

While the late Princess Diana was later to famously claim that there were “three people” in her marriage - herself, Prince Charles and Camilla - there were at least 55 million in Philip and Elizabeth’s. As Elizabeth dedicated her life to her people at Westminster Abbey at the Coronation on June 2, 1953, it sparked something of an existential crisis in Philip. Many people even after his death have never really understood this pivotal moment in Philip’s life. All his dreams of being a naval officer and a life at sea as well as being the primary provider and partner in his marriage were now sacrificed on the altar of duty and love.

With his career was now over, and he was now destined to become the spare part. Philip, very reasonably, asked that his future children and indeed his family be known by his name, Mountbatten. In effect he was asking to change the royal family’s name from the House of Windsor to the House of Mountbatten. But when Prime Minister Winston Churchill got wind of it as well as the more politically agile courtiers behind the Queen, a prolonged battle of wits ensued, and it was one Philip ultimately lost. It was only in 1957 that he accepted the title of “Prince.”

Even though he had almost lost everything dear to him and his role now undefined, he didn’t throw himself a pity party. He just got on with it. Philip tried to forge his own distinct role as second fiddle to the woman who had come to represent Great Britain. He designated himself the First Officer of the Good Ship Windsor. He set about dusting off some of the cobwebs off the throne and letting some daylight unto the workings of the monarchy by advocating reasonable amount of modernisation of the monarchy.

He had ideas about modernising the royal family that might be called “improving optics” today. But in his heart of hearts he didn’t want the monarchy to become a stuffy museum piece. He envisaged a less stuffy and more popular monarchy, relevant to the lives of ordinary people. Progress was always going to be incremental as he had sturdy opposition from the old guard who wanted to keep everything as it was, but nevertheless his stubborn energy resulted in significant changes.

When a commission chaired by Prince Philip proposed broadcasting the 1953 investiture ceremony that formally named Elizabeth II as queen on live television, Prime Minister Winston Churchill reacted with outright horror, declaring, “It would be unfitting that the whole ceremony should be presented as if it were a theatrical performance.” Though the queen had initially voiced similar concerns, she eventually came around to the idea, allowing the broadcast of all but one segment of the coronation. Ultimately, according to the BBC, more than 20 million people tuned in to the televised ceremony - a credit to the foresight of Philip.

Elizabeth’s coronation marked a watershed moment for a monarchy that has, historically, been very hands off, old-fashioned and slightly invisible. Over the following years, the royals continued to embrace television as a way of connecting with the British people: In 1957, the queen delivered her annual Christmas address during a live broadcast. Again, this was Philip’s doing when he cajoled the Queen to televise her message live. He even helped her in how to use the teleprompter to get over her nerves and be herself on screen.

Four years later, in 1961, Philip became the first family member to sit for a television interview. It is hard for us to imagine now but back then it was huge. For many it was a significant step in modernising the monarchy.

Though not everything went to plan. Toward the end of the decade, the Windsors even invited cameras into their home. A 1969 BBC fly-on-the-wall documentary, instigated by Philip to show life behind the scenes, turned into an unmitigated disaster: “The Windsors” revealed the royals to be a fairly normal, if very rich, British upper-class family who liked barbecues, ice cream, watching television and bickering. The mystery of royalty took a hit below the waterline from their own torpedo, a self-inflicted wound from which they took a long time to recover. Shown once, the documentary was never aired again. But it had an irreversible effect, and not just by revealing the royals to be ordinary. By allowing the cameras in, Philip opened the lid to the prying eyes of the paparazzi who could legitimately argue that since the Royals themselves had sanctioned exposure, anything went. From then on, minor members of the House of Windsor were picked off by the press, like helpless tethered animals on a hunting safari.

Prince Philip also took steps to reorganise and renovate the royal estates in Sandringham and Balmoral such as intercoms, modern dish washers, generally sought to make the royal household and the monarchy less stuffy, not to have so much formality everywhere.

Philip helped modernised the monarchy in other ways to acknowledge that the monarchy could be responsive to changes in society. It was Prince Philip - much to the chagrin of the haughty Princess Margaret and other stuffy old courtiers - who persuaded the Queen to host informal lunches and garden parties designed to engage a broader swath of the British public. Conversely, Prince Philip heartily encouraged the Queen (she was all for it apparently but was still finding her feet as a new monarch) to end the traditional practice of presenting debutantes from aristocratic backgrounds at court in 1952. For Philip and others it felt antiquated and out of touch with society. I know in speaking to my grandmother and others in her generation the decision was received with disbelief at how this foreign penniless upstart could come and stomp on the dreams of mothers left to clutch their pearls at the prospect there would be no shop window for their daughter to attract a suitable gentleman for marriage. One of my great aunts was over the moon happy that she never would have to go through what she saw as a very silly ceremony because she preferred her muddy wellies to high heels.

A former senior member of the royal household, who spent several years working as one of Prince Philip’s aides, and an old family friend, once told us around a family dinner table that the Duke of Edinburgh was undoubtedly given a sense of permanence by his marriage into the Royal Family that was missing from earlier years. But the royal aide would hastily add that Prince Philip, of course, would never see it that way.

Prince Philip’s attitude was to never brood on things or seek excuses. And he did indeed get on with the job in his own way - there should be no doubt that when it came to building and strengthening the Royal Family it was a partnership of equals with the Queen. Indeed contrary to Netflix’s hugely popular series ‘The Crown’ and its depiction of the royal marriage with Philip’s resentment at playing second fiddle, the prince recognised that his “first duty was to serve the Queen in the best way I could,” as he told ITV in 2011. Though this role was somewhat ill-suited to his dynamic, driven, and outspoken temperament, Philip performed it with utter devotion.

3. Prince Philip’s legacy

One could argue rightly that modernising the monarchy was his lasting legacy achievement. But he also tried to modernise a spent and exhausted Britain as it emerged from a ruinous war. When peace came, and with it eventual economic recovery, Philip would throw himself into the construction of a better Britain, urging the country to adopt scientific methods, embracing the ideas of industrial design, planning, education and training. A decade before Harold Wilson talked of the "white heat of the technological revolution", Philip was urging modernity on the nation in speeches and interviews. He was on top of his reading of the latest scientific breakthroughs and well read in break out innovations.

This interest in modernisation was only matched by his love for nature. As the country and the world became richer and consumed ever more, Philip warned of the impact on the environment, well before it was even vaguely fashionable. As president of the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) in the UK for more than 20 years from 1961, he was one of the first high-profile advocates of the cause of conservation and biological diversity at a time when it was considered the preserve of an eccentric few.

For a generation of school children in Britain and the Commonwealth though, his most lasting legacy and achievement will be the Duke of Edinburgh Awards (DofE). He set up the Duke of Edinburgh award, a scheme aimed at getting young people out into nature in search of adventure or be of service to their communities. It was a scheme that could match the legacy of Baden Powell’s scouts movement.

When Prince Philip first outlined his idea of a scheme to harness the values of his education at Gordonstoun by bringing character-building outdoor pursuits to the many rather than the fee-paying few, he received short shrift from the government of the day. The then minister of education, Sir David Eccles responded to the Duke’s proposal by saying: “I hear you’re trying to invent something like the Hitler Youth.” Undeterred he pushed on until it came to fruition.

I’m so glad that he did. I remember how proud I was for getting my DofE Awards while I was at boarding school. With the support of great mentors I managed to achieve my goals: collecting second-hand English books for a literacy programme for orphaned street children in Delhi, India with a close Indian school friend and her family; and completing a 350 mile hike following St. Olav’s Pilgrimmage Trail from Selånger, on the east coast of Sweden, and ending at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, on the west coast of Norway.

It continues to be an enduring legacy. Since its launch in 1956, the Duke of Edinburgh awards have been bestowed upon some 2.5 million youngsters in Britain and some eight million worldwide. For a man who once referred to himself as a “Greek princeling of no consequence”, his pioneering tutelage of these two organisations (alongside some 778 other organisations of which he was either president or a patron) would be sufficient legacy for most.

4. Prince Philip’s character

It may surprise some but what I liked most about Prince Philip was the very thing that helped him achieve so much and leave a lasting legacy: his character.

It is unhelpful to the caricature of Prince Philip as an unwavering but pugnacious consort whose chief talent was a dizzying facility in off-colour one-liners that he was widely read and probably the cleverest member of his family.

His private library at Windsor consists of 11,000 tomes, among them 200 volumes of poetry. He was a fan of Jung, TS Eliot, Shakespeare and the cookery writer Elizabeth David. As well as a lifelong fascination with science, technology and sport, he spoke fairly fluent French, painted and wrote a well received book on birds. It’s maddening to think how many underestimated his genuine intellect and how cultured he was behind the crusty exterior.

He didn’t have an entourage to fawn around him. He was the first to own a computer at Buckingham Palace. He answered his own phone and wrote and responded to his own correspondence. By force of character he fought the old guard courtiers at every turn to modernise the monarchy against their stubborn resistance.

Prince Philip was never given to self-analysis or reflection on the past. Various television interviewers tried without success to coerce him in to commenting on his legacy.But once when his guard was down he asked on the occasion of his 90th birthday what he was more proud of, he replied with characteristic bluntness: “I couldn’t care less. Who cares what I think about it, I mean it’s ridiculous.”

All of which neatly raises the profound aversion to fuss and the proclivity for tetchiness often expressed in withering put-downs that, for better or worse, will be the reflex memory for many of the Duke of Edinburgh. If character is a two edged sword so what of his gaffes?

There is no doubt his cult status partly owed to his so-called legendary gaffes, of which there are enough to fill a book (indeed there is a book). But he was no racist. None of the Commonwealth people or foreign heads of state ever said this about him. Only leftist republicans with too much Twitter time on their hands screamed such a ridiculous accusation. They’re just overly sensitive snowflakes and being devoid of any humour they’re easily triggered.

There was the time that Philip accepted a gift from a local in Kenya, telling her she was a kind woman, and then adding: “You are a woman, aren’t you?” Or the occasion he remarked “You managed not to get eaten, then?” to a student trekking in Papua New Guinea. Then there was his World Wildlife Fund speech in 1986, when he said: “If it has got four legs and it is not a chair, if it has got two wings and it flies but is not an aeroplane, and if it swims and it is not a submarine, the Cantonese will eat it.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Philip quickly developed a reputation for what he once defined, to the General Dental Council, as “dentopedology – the science of opening your mouth and putting your foot in it”. Clearly he could laugh at himself as he often did as an ice breaker to put others at ease.

His remarking to the president of Nigeria, who was wearing national dress, “You look like you’re ready for bed”, or advising British students in China not to stay too long or they would end up with “slitty eyes”, is probably best written off as ill-judged humour. Telling a photographer to “just take the fucking picture” or declaring “this thing open, whatever it is”, were expressions of exasperation or weariness with which anyone might sympathise.

Above all, he was also capable of genuine if earthy wit, saying of his horse-loving daughter Princess Anne: “If it doesn’t fart or eat hay she isn’t interested.” Many people might have thought it but few dared say it. If Prince Philip’s famous gaffes provoked as much amusement as anger, it was precisely because they seem to give voice to the bewilderment and pent-up frustrations with which many people viewed the ever-changing modern world.

A former royal protection officer recounts how while on night duty guarding a visiting Queen and consort, he engaged in conversation with colleagues on a passing patrol. It was 2am and the officer had understood the royal couple to be staying elsewhere in the building until a window above his head was abruptly slammed open and an irate Prince Philip stuck his head out of the window to shout: “Would you fuck off!” Without another word, he then shut the window.

The Duke at least recognised from an early age that he was possessed of an abruptness that could all too easily cross the line from the refreshingly salty to crass effrontery.

One of his most perceptive biographers, Philip Eade, recounted how at the age of 21 the prince wrote a letter to a relation whose son had recently been killed in combat. He wrote: “I know you will never think much of me. I am rude and unmannerly and I say things out of turn which I realise afterwards must have hurt someone. Then I am filled with remorse and I try to put matters right.”

In the case of the royal protection officer, the Duke turned up in the room used by the police officers when off duty and said: “Terribly sorry about last night, wasn’t quite feeling myself.”

Aides have also ventured to explain away some of their employer’s more outlandish remarks - from asking Cayman islanders “You are descended from pirates aren’t you?” to enquiring of a female fashion writer if she was wearing mink knickers - as the price of his instinctive desire to prick the pomposity of his presence with a quip to put others at ease.

Indeed many people forget that his ‘gaffes’ were more typical of the clubbish humour of the British officer class – which of course would be less appreciated, sometimes even offensive, to other ears. It’s why he could relate so well to veterans who enjoyed his bonhomie company immensely.

But behind the irascibility, some have argued there also lay a darker nature, unpleasantly distilled in his flinty attitude to his eldest son. One anecdote tells of how, in the aftermath of the murder of the Duke’s uncle and surrogate father, Lord Mountbatten, Philip lectured his son, who was also extremely fond of his “honorary grandfather”, that he was not to succumb to self-pity. Charles left the room in tears and when his father was asked why he had spoken to his son with so little compassion, the Duke replied: “Because if there’s any crying to be done I want it to happen within this house, in front of his family, not in public. He must be toughened up, right now.”

But here I would say that Prince Philip’s intentions were almost always sincere and in no way cruel. He has always tried to protect his family - even from their own worst selves or from those outside the family ‘firm’ who may not have their best interest at heart.

In 1937, a 16-year-old Prince Philip had walked behind his elder sister Cecile’s coffin after she was killed in a plane crash while heavily pregnant. The remains of newly-born infant found in the wreckage suggested the aircraft had perished as the pilot sought to make an emergency landing in fog as the mother entered childbirth. It was an excruciating taste of tragedy which would one day manifest itself in a very princely form of kindness that was deep down that defined Philip’s character.

When about 60 years later Prime Minister Tony Blair’s spin doctors in Downing Street tried to strong arm the Queen and the royal household over the the arrangements for the late Prince Diana’s funeral, it was Philip who stepped in front to protect his family. The Prime Minister and his media savvy spin doctors wanted the two young princes, William and Harry, to walk behind the coffin.

The infamous exchange was on the phone during a conference call between London and Balmoral, and the emotional Philip was reportedly backed by the Queen. The call was witnessed by Anji Hunter, who worked for Mr Blair. She said how surprised she was to hear Prince Philip’s emotion. ‘It’s about the boys,” he cried, “They’ve lost their mother”. Hunter thought to herself, “My God, there’s a bit of suffering going on up there”.’

Sky TV political commentator Adam Boulton (Anji Hunter’s husband) would write in his book Tony’s Ten Years: ‘The Queen relished the moment when Philip bellowed over the speakerphone from Balmoral, “Fuck off. We are talking about two boys who have just lost their mother”. Boulton goes on to say that Philip: ‘…was trying to remind everyone that human feelings were involved. No 10 were trying to help the Royals present things in the best way, but may have seemed insensitive.’

In the end the politicians almost didn’t get their way. Prince Philip stepped in to counsel his grandson, Prince William, after he had expressed a reluctance to follow his mother’s coffin after her death in Paris. Philip told the grieving child: “If you don’t walk, I think you’ll regret it later. If I walk, will you walk with me?”

It’s no wonder he was sought as a counsellor by other senior royals and especially close to his grandchildren, for whom he was a firm favourite. His relationship with Harry was said to have become strained, however, following the younger Prince’s decision to reject his royal inheritance for a life away from the public eye in America with his new American wife, Meghan Markle. For Prince Philip I am quite sure it went against all the elder Prince had lived his life by - self-sacrifice for the greater cause of royalty.

This is the key to Philip’s character and in understanding the man. The ingrained habits of a lifetime of duty and service in one form or another were never far away.

In conclusion then....

After more time passes I am sure historians will make a richer reassessment of Prince Philip’s life and legacy. Because Prince Philip was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life; a life intimately connected with the sweeping changes of our turbulent 20th Century, a life of fascinating contrast and contradiction, of service and some degree of solitude. A complex, clever, eternally restless man that not even the suffocating protocols of royalty and tradition could bind him.

Although he fully accepted the limitations of public royal service, he did not see this as any reason for passive self-abnegation, but actively, if ironically, identified with his potentially undignified role. It is this bold and humorous embrace of fated restriction which many now find irksome: one is no longer supposed to mix public performance with private self-expression in quite this manner.

Yet such a mix is authentically Socratic: the proof that the doing of one’s duty can also be the way of self-fulfilment. The Duke’s sacrifice of career to romance and ceremonial office is all the more impressive for his not hiding some annoyance. The combination of his restless temperament and his deeply felt devotion to duty found fruitful expression; for instance, in the work of Saint George’s House Windsor - a centre and retreat that he created with Revd. Robin Woods - in exploring religious faith, philosophy, and contemporary issues.

Above all he developed a way to be male that was both traditional and modern. He served one woman with chivalric devotion as his main task in life while fulfilling his public engagements in a bold and active spirit. He eventually embraced the opportunity to read and contemplate more. And yet, he remained loyal to the imperatives of his mentor Kurt Hahn in seeking to combine imagination with action and religious devotion with practical involvement.

Prince Philip took more pride in the roles he had accidentally inherited than in the personal gifts which he was never able fully to develop. He put companionship before self-realisation and acceptance of a sacred symbolic destiny before the mere influencing of events. In all these respects he implicitly rebuked our prevailing meritocracy which over-values officially accredited attainment, and our prevailing narcissism which valorises the assertion of discrete identities.

Prince Philip was Britain’s longest-serving consort. He was steadfast, duty driven, and a necessary adjunct to the continuity and stability of the Queen and the monarchy. Of all the institutions that have lost the faith of the British public in this period - the Church, Parliament, the media, the police - the Monarchy itself has surprisingly done better than most at surviving, curiously well-adapted to a period of societal change and moral anarchy. The House of Hanover and later Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (changed to Windsor), since their arrival in this country in 1714, have been noted above all for their ability to adapt. And just as they survived the Victorian age by transforming themselves into the bourgeoise, domestic ideal, so they have survived the new Elizabethan era (Harry-Meghan saga is just a passing blip like the Edward-Wallis Simpson saga of the 1930s).

There was once a time when the Royal’s German blood was a punchline for crude and xenophobic satirists. Now it is the royals who are deeply British while the country itself is increasingly cosmopolitan and globalised. British society has seen a greater demographic change than the preceding four or five thousand years combined, the second Elizabethan age has been characterised more than anything by a transformational movement of people. Prince Philip, the Greek-born, Danish-German persecuted and destitute wanderer who came to become one of the Greatest Britons of the past century, perhaps epitomised that era better than anyone else. And he got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

I hope I don’t exaggerate when I say that in our troubled times over identity, and our place and purpose in the world, we need to heed his selfless example more than ever.

As Heraclitus wisely said, Ήθος ανθρώπω δαίμων (Character is destiny.)

RIP Prince Philip. You were my prince. God damn you, I miss you already.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #prince philip #duke of edinburgh #queen elizabeth II #the queen of spades #monarchy #britain #british #royalty #politics #history #culture #europe #crown #icon #great briton #society

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volturiwolf · 3 years

Text

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

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(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

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

I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

#felix volturi #felix volturi imagine #felix volturi x reader #volturi #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight post #demetri volturi #alec volturi #jane volturi #the cullens #the denali coven

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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If you were editor of Nightwing's book ever since at least the start of Rebirth to today and you were given free reign, what would your story mandates?

Oh no, this is dangerous. LOL. Hmm, I have no idea what to shoot for here, so I'll try to keep it to ten. That's reasonable right? Ten is good. Yeah. Is fine.

Okay, so, in no particular order:

1) Let Dick be competent 101. None of this him having to play hype man for every other character to pop up in HIS title bullshit. Nope. That's not what they're there for. He's the lead man, LET HIM BE THE LEADING MAN. Like sure, everyone has their areas of expertise, he doesn't need or have to be the best at everything, blah blah blah.....but its about the nuance. All of that is kinda lip service because the thing is, you don't go into MOST comic books and NEED to be reminded of that because the lead characters of those books are all constantly getting saved or shown up or chastised by every guest star in their books, you know? This is a very weird, very niche phenomenon very specific to Dick's character, and I'm super over it. I'm here to read about the guy who has literally been doing this longer than most superheroes twice his age. The guy who's been doing this since before he hit double digits. The born acrobat. The destined ultimate warrior or whatever of Gotham's Ornithological Society Of Murder and Pretentiousness. Gimme that guy. And that guy doesn't need to be 'humbled' every other page, because the thing is, he's not some egomaniac to begin with so the everpresent need to humble him doesn't actually come off as humbling! It just comes off as pandering and not even to actual fans of the actual character, so its like.....wyd DC.

2) Let other people take responsibility for their own crap with Dick rather than always just expecting a mea culpa from him. I'm so unbelievably tired of the words I'm sorry from Dick. I love personal accountability, so I never thought I'd have to say this about a character, but enoooooough. They have made it completely in character for this dude to apologize to everyone ELSE for being brainwashed, getting amnesia, being KILLED, like.....the amount of things he's groveled for forgiveness for when he didn't actually do a damn thing wrong or worse yet, was the ACTUAL victim of is like....pretty damn staggering. And meanwhile, there's nary a peep of apology from the people who regularly insult or belittle him, get physically violent with him, take advantage of him or take him for granted, etc, etc, etc. Its entirely too one-sided and imbalanced, and the pendulum needs to swing the other direction, like YESTERDAY, and in a fairly big way, IMO.

3) None of this Baby's First Social Justice Awakening 101 crap. I'm sorry, but no. Especially not when you go out of your way to acknowledge that Dick is Romani, only to then turn around and act like he's only JUST had his eyes opened to an awareness of like, classism and poverty and the real struggles people face day to day? Sorry not sorry, but especially for other white writers out there, do not use people of color as self-inserts for dipping a toe into Learning To See Past Privilege. And especially when talking about a character who has a history of being actively abused and hurt by the system and institutions of power, or hell, even leaving out that particular origin story, who has still been out on the streets helping people since he was a literal child. You can not tell me that this is his first face to face experience with social issues, or the first time he's had the inclination to try and address those head on. (And its also particularly egregious that the people second-guessing Dick in his own title and giving him reality checks or acting like they have more of an awareness of all this than he does like, happen to all be white? OPTICS. LEARN ABOUT THEM. COMMON SENSE. GET SOME.)

Know what would actually be a better way to approach this? Flashbacks. Show us Dick running into situations that make him think back to a case when he was still Robin, when he and Batman had started fighting over their approaches to things, actually SHOW us those conflicts and how their viewpoints had started diverging, and how much of that was due to Dick not having the same experiences as Bruce, or the same standing in society, no matter what house he lived in. THEN you can jump BACK to the present, with the reminder/awareness that this is something that isn't NEWS to Dick, but that he in the past felt he was forced to make his peace with as something he wasn't in a position to do that much about....only NOW, he's in a very DIFFERENT position, and suddenly it just hits him how he's still acting like he did when he was limited in resources or in having to be part of a chain in command or having to factor other responsibilities into things....now he ACTUALLY has the power and the resources to make meaningful change in the ways he ALWAYS wanted to, but maybe just needed time to figure out HOW.

Like you know what would have made Shawn Tsang's story arc so much better? If Dick didn't just remember her as the Pigeon's one time teenage sidekick he'd briefly fought as a kid, but like.....if he remembered her as someone he and Bruce had FOUGHT about. Because he didn't agree with sending someone to juvie for defacing public property as a form of political protest, when it was someone's LIFE who was going to be irrevocably damaged by that while the damage to the city could be fixed with a check, and what made Dick any more deserving of Bruce's leniency and faith in his potential or underlying goodness than Shawn?

But he was still a kid himself back then, and when Bruce responded with his usual conviction, talking about the importance about rule of law and etc etc, Dick just didn't have the words to get through to him then, to get him to understand that this wasn't just Dick not getting it because he was too young, it was BRUCE not getting it, that Dick was literally just saying well he wasn't too young to have been in juvie himself, and of the two of them, he's the one who has experience there so why was Bruce's opinion on whether this was the punishment that fit the crime the one that got to hold more weight here? When Dick's the one who knows what that punishment actually LOOKS like beyond the abstract, for whom it was a reality that still haunts him in ways that even defacing a few statues of some rich old fucks doesn't deserve?

Or hell, go back FURTHER than when he was Robin. Idk where any of those posts are, but I've always wanted to see something where Dick maybe runs into someone he remembers from his time in juvie, maybe a guard who is like, the source of the reasons Dick mistrusts figures of authority and is so hung up on independence and not being under anyone's thumb, or maybe someone who was in there with him, another kid who looked out for him when he didn't have to, etc. Gimme Dick tackling head-on his firsthand awareness that there's no rehabilitation to be found in a jail for kids, when most of those kids don't even need rehabilitation in the first place and only did what they did in order to survive or escape from worse situations or like, were there purely because of racist cops, etc. Let him go after THAT system, driven by personal experiences and memories that maybe only hit him in full after recovering his memories from the Ric Grayson arc, like they're things that he put in a box in his mind a long, long time ago because he didn't have the spoons or reserves to deal with them when he was a kid still so traumatized in so many ways, like, something had to give and so he put all those memories away for another day and just....never got back to them because life kept hitting him with new and fresh trauma every week.

But now something has him thinking back to those early days in Gotham, and reminding him that not everyone had a Bruce Wayne willing and able to give them an out from that place or acrobatic skills to escape it on their own, and like. You want to do something about the cycles of violence in Gotham and Bludhaven? Why not start with the places that literally MANUFACTURE cruelty on an institutional level, that teach kids that no matter what they did to get put there, even if that was nothing at all, they're all going to be treated the same way and given no reason NOT to do whatever it took to be top dog in a dog eat dog world by the time they got out.

There's SO many better approaches to social awareness in the Batbooks than what we're seeing, and like. Sheesh. The bar is way too low.

4) On a related note, if I'm editor of the Nightwing book, the FIRST thing I'm doing is making it a priority to find a writer of color for that book, ideally someone of Rom descent. Its waaaaay past time to let a Romani writer take the reins on Dick, Wanda, Pietro or Doom, aka some of the only prominent Romani characters out there? You can't tell me that there aren't talented writers who identify as Roma who would be more than willing to add their perspective to Dick's archive of narratives, and if an editor's gotta go looking for them? Go fucking look. DC and its fans have milked a lot of mileage out of the idea of Dick being Romani with very little in the way of nuanced storytelling to show for it in the past twenty years, and if DC wants to trot out little reminders that Dick is Romani every couple years, like in the form of a freaking line that has no follow up or expansion to any degree and is offset by an internal monologue that otherwise reads as incredibly privileged, the least they can do is TRY to expand on that with the narrative perspective of someone they claim to be representing via that character.

And no, this isn't gatekeeping, this is prioritizing. Its not about preventing other writers from writing this character, like just for the hell of it, its about being proactive about finding a writer who can write specific aspects of this character that have long gone unaddressed or poorly represented. And like. Okay. Its not easy breaking into the comics industry for anyone, but its particularly not easy for marginalized writers. Most every major comic book company just recites 'make your own stuff first and then show us that' but when you're a writer specifically, finding a compatible artist to partner with on creator-owned indie stuff first, when those artists are in the same position as you are and apologetically and understandably tend to have to take paying work over yours if you can't pay except on the back end, like....there are a lot of hurdles to getting your start in comic books, and while there are more and more marginalized writers in comics these days, DC and Marvel kinda fucked up, because you know what?

After being told 'make your own first, then we'll talk,' writers DID do just that....but then found out that well, due to the ease of online distribution and access these days, for any writers who CAN find an artist to partner with, its a hell of a lot easier to get their content out there these days WITHOUT a major publisher behind them.....and for a lot of marginalized writers in particular, its worth it to keep full creative control in exchange for smaller circulation. Especially when they don't have to deal with editors 'softening' their work to make it more palatable for audiences that quite frankly aren't necessarily their primary target. So yeah, marginalized voices are becoming more and more present in comics, but Marvel and DC for the most part are keeping the same voices centered they always have, and what these voices have to say is becoming less and less relevant and outdated. Because much like this arc from Taylor, even when they DO dip their toes into story matter that's of interest to wider audiences, they're doing so to a degree that still puts them years behind the conversations everyone else is having.

5) The same holds true of disability representation. I stopped reading Taylor's run for a lot of reasons but his way of responding to people unhappy with his depiction of Babs was a key one. If I'm editor on a book, and someone tweets at one of my writers that their depiction of a disabled character was hurtful because it feels like they're doubling back on everything Babs has ever said about not being defined by or ashamed of her disability and now its being treated like a dirty little secret, and that writer's response is essentially to just laugh at them and say there's nothing wrong or ableist about their writing of a disabled person, TO a concerned disabled person? That writer's ass is getting fired. Full stop.

Either you give a shit about this stuff or you don't. Don't pay your readers lip service about how important social issues are to you and how much you care about using superhero narratives to inspire people on these matters if you're gonna turn around and show your ass the second you don't feel comfortable and prioritized by the conversation, like it wouldn't exist without your oh so valuable contributions. ESPECIALLY if you don't identify as sharing the same identity of the marginalized character you're writing. You are a guest in someone else's lived experiences at that point, and you think you've got the right to belittle and talk down to the people who LIVE THERE? Fuck off, my dude.

6) Re-center Dick as someone who the superhero community RESPECTS. I love seeing Dick depicted as someone who has an awareness of his own limitations and an appreciation for what others bring to the table, and so I'm not opposed to him calling on others when he needs to.....but I also would like to see more of the opposite. But not in the way we usually see it these days, where he's asked to come help with a crisis and then usually second-guessed the whole way, and then sent back home without so much as a thank you when its done. Yawn. Sorry. I've read that story by now.

You know what story arc I freaking LOVED as a kid, back in the 90s? In Green Lantern, when Kyle Rayner first became the sole GL, one of his very early arcs, before he ever joined the JLA or anything....was him realizing how little he knew about being a superhero. He was like, my predecessors all had a full fledged CORPS to teach them everything they needed to know, but I had a few lines of exposition from a funny little blue guy in a red pillowcase and then I was off to the races. That's not good enough. There's so much I don't know about being a hero, I don't even KNOW what I still need to know.

So he went on kinda a superhero training roadtrip. He went to Metropolis to ask Superman for advice, he went to Batman to learn from Batman and Robin (Tim at the time). He went to Wonder Woman, Sentinel (Alan Scott, the first Green Lantern), etc, etc. And in the end, Kyle very much became his own kind of hero who wasn't just a pastiche of all those other heroes and the advice they gave him, but like....this put him on the road to that.

And I'd love to see something like that happen in Dick's solo title. We've seen him train in a team setting, we've seen him train the other Robins.....I'd love to see like, young superheroes from OTHER books, not ones created by the title, but like names people actually recognize from other franchises, like, guest star in Nightwing's book to learn from HIM, specifically. I wanna see something where Wally looks at the latest speedster and is like, you know what, if you really wanna be the best hero you can possibly be, then Nightwing's who you gotta go to, because there's no one I trust to make a better hero out of someone than him. I want the newest kid on the JLA block to worry that people aren't taking him seriously because of his age or experience, and he's always hearing them talk about Nightwing and how young he was when he started and so if anyone knows something about how to gain the respect of your older superhero peers, that's the guy to talk to.

Gimme Dick's couch being crashed on at various times by a half dozen new or upcoming young superheroes who all heard or figured out that if they really want to up their superhero game, Nightwing's the guy to see.

7) Bring back Bea. There's no long paragraph expansion on this, its really simply. Bring back Bea. She was one of the freshest breaths of air in Dick's supporting cast in ages, most of the current run is based off her character direction in the first place, she's literally the best suited TO help Dick in this venture, and the reasons they gave for writing her out of Dick's life were all bullshit and they just wanted to focus on his previous relationships, which would be fine if they didn't fall into the same two endless cycles of bring back up, go nowhere with, awkwardly avoid each other for years, rinse and repeat. Like. Bring back Bea, please and thank you, the end.

8) Focus on new villains. Heartless is meh, but the idea of new villains is still better IMO than rehashing Blockbuster, Zucco, etc. Like, nostaglia ain't it. If I want to read Blockbuster fucking up Dick's life, I can do that. They're called back issues. The thing is, love it or hate it, the Blockbuster arc WAS iconic. It left its mark. And anything that doesn't leave just as much of a mark, if they're going to bring him up again, is just gonna be a waste of time, you know? It'll just dilute his overall presence when like, what he was - worked fine as is. We don't need Round Two.

The trick to good villains, IMO, is they have to speak to a fight that needs fighting.

What I mean by that is....the best villains are those who resonate on a more instinctive level because they embody something that already exists in a reader's mind as a conflict that needs fighting. Like, if superheroes exist, if the embodiment of larger than life presences and forces devoted to protecting the world from various things are real....then their villains need to embody the kinds of fights or conflicts that NEED larger than life figures to combat them, at least on a one to one level.

Look at Superman and Lex Luthor. Superman at his core embodies the strength of community. He's the ultimate hero of the people, his essence is that he was the last survivor of a doomed race who was raised by two honest, hard working people to see the beauty in just being ONE of them, in using what he had on behalf of all of them and not just himself. In contrast, Lex Luthor is basically the embodiment of capitalist greed, of excess, of the entitlement of being able to have anything with a snap of your fingers and thus assuming that gives you divine mandate to make the kinds of choices that he sees as only his right to make.

He hates Superman, ultimately, because Superman is the WRONG savior of the people. He wants their only savior to be HIM, half the time he honestly believes he's saving the world FROM Superman, but just as often he's perfectly content to be the villain and not shy about it....because Lex Luthor's ultimate motivation is he wants everyone to know when he's dead and gone that LEX LUTHOR WAS HERE. He genuinely doesn't care WHAT his impact or legacy is at the end of the day, just that it exists and it overshadows most everything else...because all that really matters to him is the irrefutable proof that HE mattered. And thus at their cores, Superman and Lex are perfectly opposed. Ideally situated to eternally be in conflict, their own forever war, because their core natures are incompatible. They CAN'T compromise, without compromising themselves and essentially ending up as someone totally other than who and what they are already.

And you can go down the list. The Joker is the chaos to Batman's order, while Mr. Freeze is the stagnancy of that order taken too far, he's what you get when you freeze everything in your grief and refuse to let anything go on, anything new grow, because that would mean having to admit once and for all that what you're mourning is really gone. Two-Face is the ultimate embodiment of Man vs Self, a once good man at war with his own worse nature, and reminding everyone who looks at him how easily they could fall to the same fate.

And so on and so on. What Dick needs, is more of the same. Like, as much as I'm not a huge fan of Talon stories, I maintain that the Court of Owls were a great foil for him - just they tend to be poorly used in canon as well. But I also think how poorly they come off in canon has a lot to do with canon not really touching on WHY they're such a perfect foil for Dick....and that's Dick's history with being outside the system, mistreated and even exploited by the system. Because the Court, their core concept, is they ARE the system. They are entrenched, enfranchised, institutional power, passed down through generations, dynastic control that is a perfect counterpart to the dynastic power of the Wayne family, embodied in its youngest generation in the form of Bruce's FOUND family, the children he adopted regardless of whether or not his peers found them deserving of that honor. The Court, and their entire....thing...about the Gray Son, is the entitled fury of those denied something they deem theirs simply because they WANT it, and who will burn the whole world down rather than admit defeat or let someone else have it instead.

And that resonates. It could resonate a lot MORE if DC would actually lean into those concepts and allow Dick to explore how the Court are nothing he's not used to, they're literally made up of the same people who have looked down on him ever since he came to Gotham, but now they're actually a face and a name put to all those attitudes, something he can literally FIGHT BACK AGAINST. The Court are literally human-sized embodiments of everything and everyone who's tried to confine Dick since his parents' deaths, tried to define him without his permission, tried to make him other or lesser than who and what he is.....and who thus now exist in a form that Dick can literally BATTLE. So that he doesn't HAVE to just take this stuff lying down.

Thanks to the Court, he doesn't HAVE to just passively accept it, that this is just how life is, that some people are going to view him this way and think this about him and there's nothing he can do about it. He CAN do something about it, in superhero stories. He can kick its ASS, in the form of the Court of Owls and everything its members think about him and intend for him. He can refuse to bow down to them, to accept their mark on him. He can say lol, no, and then blow their shit sky high, ideally with a little help from his family. He can BEAT them, in this incarnated form, and in doing so, even though he can't beat everything they stand for and represent, that victory still matters, still means something symbolic to readers it resonates with.

And that's what we need more of. Villains created specifically to embody concepts that are diametrically opposed to Dick and what he represents. The system, yes, but also villains who embody the kind of tyranny and control he fights back against in his constant battles for autonomy and self control. Villains who embody the 'new hopes' of a second generation just like Dick himself is the focal point of the hopes embodied by the second generation of heroes. I'm actually not the hugest fan of multiversal constant Dick Grayson, but I might like it more if he had an opposite number there, someone he was specifically contrasted with. Idk.

But you get it.

9) Dick having a social life. Gimme the Titans and his siblings showing up JUST to show up. We have room enough for at least a couple pages every other issue where we just get to see these characters having some breathing room, taking a beat to stop and be something other than just a superhero, to be human as well. There's more to life than 24/7 fighting, even for them, and that's largely been lost in modern superhero comics, which kinda sucks, because that was what made most of the more iconic and lasting dynamics between various characters like, STAND the test of time. The larger than life battles between good and evil might be what many of us come to superhero comics FOR, but the relatable back-and-forths and ups and downs of their private lives spent with friends and family tends to be what keeps most of us coming BACK. And lately its all just mission, mission, mission, and I'm like blah, blah, blah and its like, meh, meh, meh. Y'know? Give the guy some down time, and let his friends come spend it with him.

10) Boone. This is purely self-indulgent, but if you know anything about me, you know my obsession with Robin: Year One, Dick's brief time at Vengeance Academy, and the hate/hate relationship he has with his brief frenemy from that period, Boone aka Shrike. This character has SOOOOO much potential to be Dick's true archnemesis and rival, and like. *Sobs* I can't get into it all again. Its too much. I can't do it.

Okay, I absolutely can. And will, probably. But like. Later.

BONUS ROUND:

Other thing I would absolutely insist upon if I were Nightwing editor....

GET THAT FUCKING MEME SHIRT ABOUT BRUCE SLAPPING DICK THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

Like. Seriously. WHAT THE HELL. Why would you double down on THAT? Why is Babs STILL wearing it? (Last I checked, like I think I saw it in a scan from last issue? I'm pretty sure its still there? If not, forget this entire rant, and I am very embarrassed. Okay not that embarrassed. I don't really care if I'm wrong here but like, in case I'm not)...

WHY. Who thought that was funny? No, seriously, on behalf of any other abuse survivors who like me are SERIOUSLY not amused, who the FUCK thinks its FUNNY to have one of Dick's best friends sporting a shirt that no matter what it represents IN universe, to readers OUT of universe, is always going to call to mind the fact that this meme only freaking EXISTS because of all the times DC has obliviously and without acknowledgment written Bruce abusing his children, including the BFF that Babs is literally wearing that right in front of.

Like omg do you hate her, DC? What other possible reason could you have for thinking that would be a cute, funny thing for her to wear around the guy getting SLAPPED, by his DAD, in your shirt's iconography.

Okay I'm done.

LOL.

Sorry, that last one was brewing for awhile. Deep breaths. Woo.

91 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 3 years

Text

Emerald + Mercury = Cinder

BEGINNING OF THE END = MIDNIGHT

The episodes Beginning of the End and Midnight can be seen as complementary.

Both share a similar structure with the first part telling Cinder’s story and the second part showing how past events are influencing the present. At the same time, they show the links among Cinder, Emerald and Mercury and explore their changing dynamic.

In Beginning of the End it is shown how they came together and we reach the climax of their cooperation. The Fall of Beacon is when the trio is at its strongest. It is only because of their coordination and teamwork that the plan succeeds. In Midnight instead we are shown the beginning of their separation.

For different reasons (fears and wishes) both Mercury and Emerald are about to leave Cinder. Mercury already has and it is probable Emerald will soon.

The two episodes also give us two opposite and complementary visions of Cinder.

In Beginning of the End, we have the way Cinder wants to appear:

Cinder: (stepping forward slowly, glass anklet shifting with her footsteps) I've already told you. And I don't like repeating myself.

Salem: I would like to think I have shown a great deal of patience over my many years walking Remnant. But I do hate repeating myself.

Mercury: Is this how you treat a patient? (Emerald reaches over and twists the screwdriver in his leg, causing him to wince) Ah, too tight!

Cinder: Enough. Our Mercury put on a wonderful show. He was quite brave.

Salem: Do you find such malignance necessary?

Watts: I apologize, ma'am. I'm not particularly fond of failure.

Salem: Then I see no reason for your cruelty towards young Cinder. She's become our Fall Maiden, destroyed Beacon Tower, and most importantly, killed dear Ozpin. So I'm curious, to what failures are you referring?

In Midnight we see who she really is. Moreover, it becomes more and more clear that her imitation of Salem is different from the original:

Salem: I will tell you when and where you are needed.

Cinder: Both of you, get out. I’ll let you know when you’re needed next.

Mercury: Yeah about that, Salem’s got other plans for me. I’m not gonna be taking orders from you anymore.

Why is this being shown through her interactions with Emerald and Mercury? Why are they important for Cinder’s character?

First of all, Mercury and Emerald are Cinder’s kids, at least narratively speaking:

Roman: Oh, look! She sent the kids again! This is turning out just like the divorce!

Roman calls them so when they first appear and later on several characters refer to them as kids in relation to Cinder.

Raven (about Emerald and Mercury): Two children you've tricked into following you.

Tyrian: (chuckles as he slowly walks toward Emerald) Careful, little girl. Cinder isn't here to protect you anymore.

Tyrian (mocking Mercury): Oh yes, the world is mean, and I'm a big, bad man now just like the others.

Salem (to Emerald): Speak, child.

In short, they are meant to be the last link in a chain of abuse that starts with Salem, goes on with Cinder and finally arrives to them.

At the same time, as the title says Mercury + Emerald = Cinder because they are nothing more than parts of Cinder herself, both in their backgrounds and in their personalities.

CINDER + “HUNGER” = EMERALD

Cinder: Follow me, and you'll never be hungry again.

Cinder: It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like hunger. I like it.

In Beginning of the End Emerald and Cinder are shown to share a hunger motif.

Emerald is presented as a street rat who survives through stealing. She is poor and starved, so she accepts Cinder’s offer to be taken care of and to be given food. That said, it is clear that other than food what Emerald is truly starving for is love:

Emerald: I just... (sighs) Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things...

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one

Similarly, Cinder too is shown to be hungry. More specifically, she is hungry for power:

Cinder: I want to be powerful.

It is meaningful that in the episode where Cinder tells Emerald she won’t have to starve anymore, she herself is starving. This contradiction conveys the tragedy of Cinder’s character aka a traumatized girl taking in a kid similar to her and becoming like her past parental figures.

As a matter of fact Emerald and Cinder’s first meeting has parallels with Cinder meeting both Madame and Rhodes.

When Cinder meets Madame she asks for food, but is negated it:

And she is later shown to have survived through leftovers.

In contrast, food is the first thing Cinder offers Emerald, who she recognizes as a girl who has survived in poverty, like her.

In their first meeting, Cinder also treats Emerald pretty much like Rhodes treated her. Both discover a young girl, who has just committed a theft and confront her. However, instead of punishing the girl, they both offer to be the girl’s mentor and become her idol.

As a matter of fact both Cinder and Emerald are shown to idolize their saviors to the point that both girls try to look like them by changing their hair/clothes:

So, it would superficially seem that Cinder is acting like Rhodes and in the opposite way of Madame. However, the reality is far more complex. Deep down, Cinder is acting like her adoptive mother because she is targeting a girl and thinking about how she can weaponize her. At the same time, there is a key difference between her behaviour and Rhodes’s. Rhodes had Cinder give the sword back, while Cinder never stopped Emerald from stealing. If anything, she encouraged her criminal activities changing her from a thief to a terrorist. In other words, Cinder radicalized Emerald.

This is once again linked to the motif of hunger both girls share:

Cinder: You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you'll have it forever, but it just makes the rest of us hungrier.

Cinder’s trauma is rooted in the unfairness of the world. She was made to starve simply because she was born in the wrong situation and society completely failed her.

What is more, when Rhodes refuses Cinder as well, she too refuses his vision of the world. Rhodes, pretty much like the Prince of the original fairy-tale, offers Cinder a way to social-climb. In the fairy-tale, Cinderella marries the prince and so becomes a princess in the end. Here, Rhodes is telling Cinder she can reach her own castle. Cinder can escape her misery and reach Atlas. However, this is seen as a lie by Cinder the moment he attacks her.

So, Cinder giving food to an orphan like her and trying to destroy the current order are both coherent with the idea that the world is unjust and needs to be changed. However, Cinder is using the same problems she criticizes to her advantage. What is more, she is exasperating them in order to fulfill her personal agenda, which is only about herself and her self-image.

Let’s see now, what do our two young thieves steal? What are they “hungry” for?

a) Emerald steals a ring:

Salesman: A beautiful ring... for a beautiful woman.

Interestingly, the ring itself might be a reference to the original story of Aladdin, which is apparently Emerald’s allusion.

In the original story Aladdin meets two jinns. The first one is in a ring and Aladdin uses it to save himself and to escape with the magic lamp, where a stronger jinn is. So it makes sense for Emerald to steal a ring (something she wishes) just to meet a woman that promises her she can have more (her personal jinn aka someone that can realize Emerald’s dreams).

Why does Emerald steal the ring?

It is possible she just wants to sell it in order to buy some food, but I like the idea that she steals it also because she wants some beauty (”a beautiful ring for a beautiful woman”) in the harsh and horrible world she lives in (“filth”).

b) Cinder steals a sword:

Like in Emerald’s case, the object of Cinder’s theft can be seen as part of her fairy-tale’s allusion.

As a matter of fact, in Cinder’s adaptation of Cinderella the swords are nothing, but her glass slippers.

This is made clear later on when Rhodes (both the Prince and the Fairy Godmother) gives Cinder the first sword. It is meant to be a prize on his part. He is showing Cinder she does not need to steal it anymore because she has gained it. Moreover, weapons are said to be extensions of a person by Ruby, so it makes sense that the slipper of the original Cinderella becomes a sword in this version. It fits the personality of our Cinder, a fiery young girl, who wants to become a huntress.

Finally, since Cinder’s story uses both inversion and deconstruction when adapting the fairy-tale, it is interesting that in the end the Prince refuses to give Cinder the other sword (slipper) and Cinder takes it by force:

In this way, Cinder goes back to stealing, which was what Rhodes had originally tried to avoid.

Why does Cinder steal the sword in the first place?

She steals something to defend herself with and to hurt her tormentors. Violence is rooted in Cinder’s first theft.

In short, Emerald wants something beautiful, while Cinder wants something powerful.

This difference is coherent with their respective semblances since Emerald creates illusions, while Cinder is able to overheat objects, so that she can create explosions and manipulate their shape. Both powers are representative of their user’s flaw and coping mechanism.

Emerald is a person who has reacted to her traumatic life by chasing illusory dreams of warmth and love. She tricks others and is tricked because she refuses to dispel her self-delusions.

Cinder is instead a person, who has been molded through violence just like the glass statues in the hotel. She is forced to endure until she can’t take it anymore and she explodes:

She herself is the Glass Unicorn, which shatters like Cinder’s innocence when too much pressure is added. Not only that, but Cinder too has started molding others to her will. She has been grooming both Emerald and Mercury for her own ego. This is why the name Scorching Caress fits her so well. It is because behind every act of care it is hidden an act of manipulation. And this happens because Cinder too has been treated utilitaristically and the only kind of love she experienced (Rhodes’s) was a “weak” love Cinder ended up perceiving as fake.

In short, Emerald and Cinder have different coping mechanisms and aim for different things. However, this does not mean that one is better or worse than the other. Their main difference is that right now Emerald is more in touch with her own needs and wishes. Ironically, the delusional girl has never lost sight of what she truly wants.

Emerald wants a family. She has been looking for it in the wrong places and she has been pursuing it in the wrong ways. However, Emerald has never forgotten what she is truly after and she is starting to realize she won’t have it, until she stays on Salem’s side:

Salem: It's important not to lose sight of what drives us: Love, justice, reverence... but the moment you put your desires before my own... they will be lost to you. This isn't a threat, this is simply the truth. The path to your desires is only found... through me.

Tyrian: Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. I want to tell you both a little secret. Your question is all wrong. (laughs)

Emerald: What?

Tyrian: "What do you want from this?" Children, please, if you're not loving what you're doing, then you're in the wrong field.

Salem promises to fulfill Emerald’s wishes, but Tyrian has already told her that pursuing a wish while working for Salem is useless. Emerald is starting to realize it and this is why she will probably leave.

Cinder has instead forgotten what she originally wanted:

Cinder: Like you? You can do whatever you want, go wherever you want.

Cinder’s original wish was to be free and also to be loved, like Emerald:

You're no good I hope you know That your life is of no use And the truth is that No one's ever loved you

However, her being failed by the adults has twisted her wish into a desire for power.

This difference is well conveyed by Cinder and Emerald’s respective line in Beginning of the End:

Cinder: Follow me, and you'll never be hungry again.

Emerald: Thank you...

Cinder: The Huntsman severed the connection before it was complete. (pause) Yes. It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like hunger. I like it. (pause) Yes. I will claim what is ours. (pause) Thank you.

Emerald thanks Cinder because she won’t have to be hungry anymore, while Cinder thanks Salem because she is able to feel a hunger she likes.

This fits well with Cinder’s last words to the Madame:

Cinder: You’re right. Without you I am nothing. But because of you, I am everything.

Emerald does not want to be hungry, while Cinder has been tricked into thinking that being hungry is the only way she can become not even “everything”, but just “something”.

CINDER + “EVERYTHING” = MERCURY

Cinder: Because of you, I am everything.

Mercury: So I got strong, but I never got it back! I've had to work harder than anyone to get where I am.

Cinder’s way of thinking is very similar to Mercury’s. Not only have they both endured their parents’ violence, but they have tried to give this violence meaning. It is because of Madame that Cinder has become “everything” and it is because of Marcus that Mercury has become “strong”. They must believe that it was not all for nothing and that the pain they felt made them stronger instead of weaker.

This is why Cinder thinks that deep down her “hunger” is good. It is because it drives her, but she ignores that it blinds her too.

This is why Mercury keeps going back to his father:

Mercury: Bad hair, used a scythe, and smelled like my dad after a long day. It was him.

Mercury: My dad always said... "if you need to know a city, ask the rats."

He mentions Marcus here and there and uses his teachings to solve problems. That is because those teachings must have some value, right? If they don’t, then Mercury’s life means nothing.

The nature of Cinder and Mercury’s foiling is clear in their first meeting:

Like in Emerald’s case, Cinder finding Mercury calls back a moment of her past.

In particular, it parallels the murder of her adoptive family and Rhodes discovering it. Mercury, just like young Cinder, has just killed an abusive parent and is confronted by a person after the fact.

Once again, Cinder seems to act differently from the adults that let her down. Rhodes was horrified and attacked her, while Cinder praises Mercury and has him join her group.

However, she is deep down acting as Rhodes did. As a matter of fact what truly hurt Cinder about Rhodes’s reaction is that he convinced her that she is irredeemable.

The whole scene plays with the Cinderella’s allusion and inverts it:

The clock strikes midnight and just like in the fairy-tale, the magic is over. In Cinderella, the protagonist goes back to her true self and runs away not to be seen. However, in the end, the prince recognizes her through her slipper (a symbol of her innate beauty and kindness) and marries her despite her humble condition.

In Cinder’s story, midnight is when she reveals a part of herself to Rhodes. She shows all the anger and violence she has been repressing. Cinder is not a “good victim” like the Cinderella of the fairy-tale and Rhodes can’t accept it. Not only that, but he negates Cinder’s dream to be free:

Rhodes: You can run, but you’re going to be running for the rest of your life.

Cinder: I won’t have to run now.

Rhodes: That’s all you’ll ever do.

This shatters Cinder’s hopes and self-perception. She internalizes that she will have to live in opposition to society because she is somehow “a bad person”. She is not a huntress (a princess), but a nobody who’ll have to use violence to survive. And she starts doing it immediately. As the song that starts playing implies, she has been awaken from the “fragile lies in bones”. However, this “truth has broken her soul in two”. This wound is still there and it has influenced, among other things, her reaction to Mercury.

When Cinder meets Mercury, she associates him to his father three times:

Cinder: And you're his son. We saw your fight from the treeline. He's taught you well.

Mercury: Guess so.

Cinder: What's your name?

Mercury: Mercury.

Cinder: Mercury... Tell me, are you anything like your father?

In this way, she strengthens the connection Mercury tried to cut by killing Marcus. She is indirectly convincing him that he can’t be different from his father:

Tyrian: All you ever learned was pain and violence, and now you're too afraid to leave it. Such a tragedy.

Tyrian spells it out clearly for both Mercury and the audience. The only reason Mercury joined Cinder and is now working for Salem is that he is scared. Not only is he scared for his own survival, but he is scared about failing to be anything else than what his father taught him.

Cinder is deep down scared too by Salem and her group:

However, she too, like Mercury, has given up on being anything different than a criminal. She puts up a strong demeanor, but is actually really frail. She is like glass that has been bended through heat (violence) and can easily shatter.

Both Mercury and Cinder are two violent victims. This duality is kind of conveyed also through their names and colors.

“Cinder” is something that has only partially burnt. They tried to reduce her to ashes, but failed and a part of Cinder is still burning. This is why her main colors are black and red. She is black because she was burnt. She is red because she can burn. She was both hurt and has hurted others.

Similarly, “mercury” is a silver/gray metal and this is Mercury’s main color. This choice gains a possible deeper meaning when one considers that his aura is white and that his surname is Black. His aura can be seen as Mercury’s nature, while the surname “Black” is a symbol of the “nurture” he received. Mixing these two factors made so that Mercury turned out like he is (a gray character).

So, Cinder and Mercury have been shaped by their abuse and this is clearly visible on their bodies as well:

Cinder keeps the scar on her neck hidden, while Mercury has chosen to weaponize his missing legs.

It is telling that Mercury made of his own mechanical legs his weapon and that he mostly uses kicks to fight. It is another detail that shows how he is reducing both himself and his trauma to weapons he can use.

Cinder too shows how frail her sense of self is through weapons. It is not by chance that her current weapons are made of glass. In her backstory her swords were a symbol of her true self and of who she could become. Right now, they are nothing, but glass imitations of that ideal.

In short, Cinder and Mercury are both victims and murderers and they needed to have both sides of themselves accepted by their mentors.

However, Rhodes and Cinder failed to do so. They both refused the victimhood of the child in front of them, but they did so in opposite ways.

On one hand Rhodes refused Cinder’s violence and its reasons. He ignored his feelings of affection for the girl and steeled himself, so that he could fight her.

On the other hand Cinder gladly accepted Mercury’s violence and groomed him (Scorching caress), so that he would completely embrace it too.

The difference between Rhodes and Cinder lies in them having different reactions to the violence perpetrated by a child. However, they both fail to address the child’s pain. Rhodes does so because his vision is too black and white. Cinder does so because she is not even able to address her own pain.

However, both Cinder and Mercury need to address their own victimhood. Still, they refuse to do so because it would mean to accept their vulnerability. It is easier to convince themselves that they are the strong and violent ones. They are the ones others are scared of:

Mercury: We're the guys you should be afraid of.

But it is precisely because of this refusal that they are currently caught in dynamics similar to the ones they escaped:

Salem and Tyrian are nothing, but more dangerous versions of Madame and Marcus.

Salem treats Cinder as a pawn, rather than a person. She strips her of her personhood and agency and punishes her violently.

Tyrian is a killer, who enjoys his job like Marcus. He keeps invading Mercury’s personal space and threathens him. Moreover, his own semblance is similar to Marcus’s. It might not steal people’s semblances, but it still messes with their auras (with their very souls).

Cinder and Mercury struggle to recognize their own situations because to do so they must accept they are still stuck in their horrible childhoods:

Mercury: You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!

Cinder: I don’t serve anyone. And you wouldn’t either, if you were built that way.

However, this refusal is confusing them about what their true needs and wishes are:

Cinder: I want to be strong. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful.

Mercury: So what's in it for me?

In Beginning of the End both characters receive a line where they express some kind of wish.

As stated above, Cinder’s wish is not her original one, but a twisted version because she thinks she can’t reach her true desire.

When it comes to Mercury, he is not even sure of what he really wants. This is made clear even later on:

Emerald: I mean, there has to be something you want from this, right?

Mercury: Salem's promised us everything. We win this thing for her, we'll be top dogs in her new world. What more do you want?

He says Salem will give him all he wants, but he still fails to answer Emerald’s question. What is it that he wants?

He wants “everything” Cinder can offer him and later on “everything” Salem offers him. However, this is just another way to say he’ll take anything he is given, be it even something as basic as survival:

Mercury: Look, even if what he said was true, we can’t stop Salem. You told me yourself, Hazel tried. He failed and he got in line. Big guy’s not going to pick fights he can’t win, and neither should we.

This is because Mercury is so scared and hurt he can’t even start to think about what he wants.

Similarly, he goes back to a fatalistic vision of the world:

Mercury: Just made sense.

Emerald: It made sense?

Mercury: All my life, my father trained me to be a killer, an assassin like him. And then moments after I killed him, you two showed up looking for someone with my exact skills. Just felt like it was meant to be.

Let’s highlight that Cinder does the same:

Pyrrha: Do you believe in destiny?

Cinder: Yes.

Cinder: You know, Neo, someone once asked me if I believed in destiny. And I'm happy to say I still do.

Both Mercury and Cinder have convinced themselves that there is a “destiny” written for them and that they must play that role (the role of an assassin, the role of the Maiden). However, in this way they are just chaining themselves and accepting to Do As They Are Told by adults and mentor figures, who do not really care about them.

EMERALD + MERCURY = SOUL + BODY

I'm the one That was born in a nightmare a murderer's son Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun Overrun By the hate and the beatings defiled by a father I'm the one I'll race with your eyes and you'll never outrun Illusions Will conquer your mind and will make you fulfill my design

Mercury and Emerald’s song says several things about them.

First of all, it conveys the idea of two kids that feel let down by the world and have decided to retaliate. They mock their opponents and praise their respective abilities. However, it is clear from the verses above that it is just a mask to hide their pain.

This fits with them appearing for the first time in Best Day Ever where Ozpin says this:

Ozpin: And they will be, but right now they're still children. So why not let them play the part? After all, it isn't a role they'll have forever.

Differently from out protagonists (at the time), Emerald and Mercury are not playing the part of kids, but they are acting as big bad thugs to prove themselves to the people around them.

Secondly, the song is useful to explore Emerald and Mercury’s foiling.

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun Overrun By the hate and the beatings defiled by a father

Emerald was never given love, while Mercury was given hate:

Mercury: I'm sorry you didn't have a mommy that loved you, but I had a father who hated me!

This difference is at the root of their different personalities.

On one hand Emerald attaches herself to the care Cinder gives her and takes it as the most love she’ll ever receive.

On the other hand Mercury is just content with not receiving hate and violence from the people around him.

Emerald is more open about her connections with others, while Mercury is more disillusioned. She is strongly driven by them, while Mercury is too scared to fully embrace them.

Emerald has clear wishes, but she is deluding herself about them. Mercury has fears that do not let him realize what he wants.

This difference stems from the different nature of their traumas. Who was never given anything accepts whatever they are offered, while who received pain thinks even nothing is better than more pain.

Still, we are currently seeing an inversion of this dynamic. Emerald’s wishes and their not overlapping with reality are making her doubtful. Mercury’s fear and survival instinct are making him refuse the truth:

Mercury: And all of this is pointless, anyway. Salem’s not ending the world.

In the end, facing one’s own feelings, being them wishes:

Or fears:

Is still better than repressing them, even if it might be painful.

I'm the one That was born in a nightmare a murderer's son Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

I'm the one I'll race with your eyes and you'll never outrun Illusions Will conquer your mind and will make you fulfill my design

The song I’m the One has four key verses. In the first two ones both characters tell a little of their past and then discuss their abilities, while in the other two Mercury mostly talks about his past and emphasizes it, while Emerald highlights her semblance more.

This ends up foreshadowing the importance of Emerald’s semblance and Mercury’s lack of one (”got no gun”).

Emerald’s semblance is important on different levels. As stated above, it perfectly embodies Emerald’s flaw:

Mercury: You're in denial.

And it is linked to unconscious aspects, like wishes and fears. Finally, it is a semblance linked to trickery and lies and these are among the causes of The Fall of Beacon:

Cinder: Our Kingdoms are on the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark.

It is not by chance that this semblance specifically has been so instrumental in Cinder’s plan, after all.

Similarly, Mercury’s lack of a semblance is one of his defining traits:

Mercury: He never went easy on me! Every day of training was a beating. And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his!

Ironically, this would make for an excellent narrative objective for Mercury’s character. However, he is so sure his semblance can’t be taken back that he has completely given up on it. This even if he is clearly bitter about having had a part of himself stolen.

The key aspect here may be that Mercury has failed to get his semblance back through his father’s teachings:

Mercury: He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back!

And he is now considering it lost forever. It is possible that the path to find his ability again is instead another one altogether.

That said, while Cinder mostly used Emerald’s semblance in her plan, she also made great use of Mercury’s skill and of the peculiar nature of his body:

The first step in her plan, after all, uses both Emerald’s semblance and Mercury’s prostethic legs to spread negative emotions. This tendency continues in PvP where Emerald uses her semblance and Mercury, unhurt because of his legs, prevents Ruby from interrupting the fight.

In short, Emerald mostly relies on her semblance, while Mercury mostly relies on his legs and fighting prowess.

This detail adds to the idea that Emerald and Mercury have been acting as a unit and have been complementing each other. Emerald acts as the “soul” and Mercury as the “body”.

The soul is one’s personal essence (like the semblance). It is where (once again) wishes reside. The body is what protects the soul and is animated by instincts and self-survival.

They complement each other. This complementarity is shown in Emerald and Mercury’s fights.

In the Vytal festival, Mercury takes on both Coco and Yatsuhashi for a short while, so that Emerald can size her chance to fight Coco at her own terms (and she wins by using her semblance).

In the Battle of Heaven, Emerald uses her semblance to help Mercury fight and, in a sense, she compensates for his lack of one:

This perfect complementarity used to make them strong, but right now it is clear that it has become limitating:

Blake: When you’ve been at someone’s side for so long, after a while they become a part of you. But that’s just it, they’re only a part of you. Don’t forget about the rest.

This is why they are currently being separated by the narrative.

On one hand Emerald must learn not to be so emotionally dependant from others and must make her own choices. This is also why her using the lamp might be meaningful:

Qrow: This last great creation would be given the power to both create and destroy. It would be given the gift of knowledge, so that it could learn about itself and the world around it. And most importantly, it would be given the power to choose, to have free will to take everything it had learned and decide which path to follow - the path of light or the path of darkness.

The whole point of the relics (and of the journey we are going through) is to learn about the world, about creation and destruction, so that in the end a choice can be made.

This is why the first relic we saw is the relic of knowledge. Now, Emerald is a character that has been dependant on others, so that she could realize her wishes. Aladdin itself is a story about a character depending on a Jinn to make his dreams come true. However, it is possible Emerald’s arc will be different and it will be about gaining the knowledge to act and realize one’s wishes.

On the other hand Mercury must face himself and learn what he really wants. He must start living instead of simply surviving. In a sense, he must take the soul his father stole back.

Mercury quoting Marcus: "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!"

Marcus was wrong. One’s individuality (semblance) does not make them weak. If anything, Marcus’s abuse of Mercury made him need a literal crutch (since he lost his legs) and the boy is still hiding behind this violence to avoid any real choice about himself. This is what prevents him from becoming strong:

Yang: You might be powerful, but that doesn't make you strong.

Raven: Who do you think you are, lecturing me?! Standing there, shaking like a scared little girl?!

Yang: Yeah, I'm scared. But I'm still standing here!

His connection with Emerald might still play a role in this. After all, Mercury is, among other things, the god of thieves and this allusion has been played with by making him protective of Emerald (whose surname means “thief”). It might be used in a deeper and more meaningful way later on.

Emerald and Mercury must grow because if they don’t, they’ll end up as their dark foils:

Both Hazel and Emerald ended up joining Salem out of a feeling of love that was twisted. Emerald joined Salem because of her loyalty to Cinder, who is using her. Hazel joined Salem because of the death of his sister that he blames on Ozpin. Their semblances are even symbolic of their respective flaws since Emerald is caught up in her own delusions, while Hazel is unable to properly grieve, so he can’t “feel pain” on more than just the physical level.

Both Mercury and Tyrian are assassins and Tyrian is who Mercury might become if he truly chooses to live only to kill and does not find a different goal.

It is also telling that both Emerald and Mercury are currently put in similar circumstances as their two foils. As a matter of fact Mercury is leaving with Tytian, while Emerald and Hazel have been given the password to use the lamp and must choose what to make of this information.

At the same time, Emerald and Mercury have also some traits of respectively Tyrian and Hazel as well.

Emerald is fiercely loyal to Cinder like Tyrian is to Salem:

Tyrian: So devoted to someone so incompetent.

Hazel wanted to protect Gretchen (and is still acting on these unfulfilled feelings of protectiveness) like Mercury is trying to protect Emerald. Moreover, Gretchen and (probably) Emerald’s choice was/will be to fight an enemy that can’t be beaten, going against Hazel and Mercury’s wishes.

All in all, Emerald and Mercury have had interesting interactions with both Hazel and Tyrian that can be (ironically) seen as two incomplete and flawed mentor figures.

On one hand Hazel has been acting as a protector of sorts. He carried Emerald when she lost consciousness after the Battle of Heaven and he tried to protect both Emerald and Mercury from Salem’s rage after their failure.

On the other hand Tyrian is seen tormenting the two kids whenever he gets the chance. That said, he ironically ends up spelling out for them truths the two must face:

Tyrian: Do what makes you happy children... please? I'm begging you...

Tyrian: Of course she is! You’re surprised? Salem is destruction incarnate! Our mistress wishes to see the end of it all! There is no ideal more beautiful.

In short, some kind of interesting foiling seems to have been set-up for the four of them and it will be interesting to see if/how it develops.

MIDNIGHT = BEGINNING OF THE END

In a sense, when the clock stroke midnight it was the beginning of Cinder’s end because she entered a spiral she has not been able to stop since then. Not only that, but she has dragged other people in that same spirals and those people are now struggling against it, just like her.

At the same time, midnight signals the end of illusions and that may be a fitting description for where we are in the story so far.

Ruby has just announced the existence of Salem to the world, Emerald is uncovering several truths about Salem, Cinder and herself and the Ace Ops are being forced to face their emotions. Of course, when some illusions end, new ones appear. However, it is clear we are in a pivotal moment, which will hopefully lead to some changes.

Similarly, Cinder, Mercury and Emerald will probably go their own ways soon and it will be interesting to see how their paths will foil and where they will meet again.

As for now, it seems that because of Emerald’s allusion to Aladdin, she might use the last question to Jinn. If so, she will probably aquire knowledge and wisdom (emeralds are the stones of wisdom apparently).

Mercury will probably spiral a little bit as for now, but I wonder if he will receive some pivotal focus in the Vacuo’s volumes. Other than him going there with Tyrian, there is also the fact that it would make what is currently just a juxtaposition with Penny (thank you, @hamliet for noticing) a more interesting foiling.

Penny is an artificial human, a creation who was given life because her father loved her so much that he sacrificed a part of his aura for her... twice. She is at the centre of the theme of creation and it represents the good sides of it. She is a creation with a soul, a child, the fruit of parental love. It is because of the love she received that she is willing to protect creation:

Penny: That is not… I choose to fight for people who care about me.

Penny’s arc is about self-actualization. She struggles to be her own person outside her role, her purpose and even her parent. However, even if she has been objectified and keeps being objectified, she has also been given affection and this is why she fights.

Mercury is her opposite. He was the target of his father’s violence. Marcus not only stole his legs (while Pietro built Penny a body), but even a part of his soul (while Pietro gave Penny a part of his). He taught Mercury hate and violence and this is why he is currently helping a witch to destroy the world. Because of this, it would be interesting for such a character to receive focus on the volumes about destruction.

Finally, Cinder, as the Fall Maiden, is linked to the theme of choice. This has already been explored a little bit in her being obessed by destiny, as said above. However, the theme of choice is one which must still be fully explored.

In particular, there are several references to choice and destiny when it comes to Cinder’s foil aka Pyrrha:

Cinder (about Pyrrha): Hmm... People assume that she's fated for victory, when she's really taking fate into her own hands.

Cinder: It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours.

Pyrrha: When I think of destiny, I don't think of a predetermined fate you can't escape. But rather... some sort of final goal, something you work towards your entire life.

Red-Haired Woman: She 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 is what she always wanted to be.

Pyrrha’s arc is about making a choice. She must choose if she wants to become a Maiden. She struggles, but in the end she accepts this responsibilty. She embraces her idea of destiny and tries to be a Maiden even without powers.

Cinder’s idea of destiny is not fully explored. In a sense, just like Pyrrha, she has taken destiny in her own hands. However, she also seems to use the idea of destiny to nurture her self-image as the Chosen One and as the Worthy One.

At the same time, Pyrrha’s choice led to her tragic death. Not only that, but in the end her death accomplished little. Even Ruby activating her silver eyes has more to do with her wish to protect life, rather than with death. Why is that so? It is probably because Pyrrha’s choice was made without knowledge. She had been explained only a fragment of the truth, while the whole point is that one should learn, meet creation and destruction and then make a choice. This is why we have yet to meet the relic of choice.

My guess is that the theme of choice will mostly be explored through Cinder’s character, who will be asked to choose her destiny in the end.

#rwby #rwby meta #cinder fall #emerald sustrai #mercury black #my meta

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a-detraque-barista · 4 years

Text

My Treasure

Dragon Izuku x Reader

Genre: smut, dragon au

Word Count: 2900+

Warnings: feelings of insecurity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it peeps), big dick Izu, cunnilingus, hints of a scent kink, dom izu if you squint

A/N: Tis finally here...dragon Izu! This is my second official smut ever but I’m kind of happy with how it turned out! There's a good chance I'll come back to this and make changes. This is only day 2 for the Izumonth collab so go ahead and check out the announcement post here. Made by the lovely peach herself @birds-have-teeth

~~~

“Izuku, are you here?” your voice rang through the cave that you knew to be the jade haired dragon’s den. He had asked for you to come today so he could show you something. You had never gone farther than the mouth of the dark cave. The dragon didn’t want you to see what was inside. Maybe it was for the best, who knew what a dragon kept in his precious den.

You had befriended the dragon only a few fortnights ago. Stumbling upon him while bathing ended up being a less gruesome consequence than what you would imagine. The man was shy and sweet to you. His face was so red as he spoke to you while only waist-deep in the small spring water pond. Even with his pointed horns and scaly skin, he never posed as a threat.

You must have apologized about a hundred times by the time he got out and dressed to speak to you properly. Even though it was you who barged in on him, he was apologizing for making you uncomfortable, when he did nothing of the sort. You were surprised to see how much muscle he could hide beneath his clothing. But already seeing him without, led you to know better.

After that, the two of you couldn’t help but meet daily. Sometimes outside of his cave and others inside your home. The dragon-man was respectful and did nothing to make you anything other than ease. Never did he make you feel unsafe, it was quite the opposite. He was so sweet you couldn’t believe that he was a dragon. Once he shifted into the large creature you’ve only heard about in children’s books and legendary stories passed down from ancestor to ancestor. And he took you up into the clouds, gliding above them and enjoying the wind on your face. It was like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.

Ever since then your feelings have been growing for the dragon boy who made your heart skip a beat. Although, you didn’t know how he felt about you. He probably only wanted to be friends with you...and you were alright with that.

It only took a minute or two for the green-haired man to walk out of his domain to greet you, “Hello Y/n-chan.” His smile showed his canines that only caused you to smile back. “Are you ready to see it?”

‘It’ was still a mystery to you as he took your hand and pulled you inside the cave. At first, all you could see was darkness besides a small glimmer of light ahead of you. Holding onto Izuku’s hand tighter, you proceeded to walk alongside him to whatever he wished to show you.

Slowly, the two of you were getting closer to what was glimmering through the shadows of the cave. For a second, your eyes had to close to block out the sudden exposure of bright light. When you opened them again your jaw dropped at the sight of what could only be called treasure. Mountains of gold and jewels. You’ve never seen so much treasure in your poverty-filled life. Is this what Izuku wanted to show you?

“This, Y/n-chan, is my hoard,” he stared at the gold with pride as he still held your hand in his.

“What-what’s a hoard?” you almost felt embarrassed to ask but you were only a human girl, learning things about dragons little by little.

“A hoard, my dear, is where a dragon keeps all the things they’ve collected over the years. It’s their most prized possessions all in one place. Dragons go to unimaginable lengths to protect their hoards from being stolen or destroyed. And this is my hoard that I hold very close to my heart.”

The fact that Izuku was comfortable enough around you to show you his hoard spoke volumes. He chuckled at your expression as you still gaped at his beloved hoard.

“Come, I want to speak to you about something,” with his hand still around yours he pulled you to what looked to be a bed. Blankets and cloth, most likely stolen from villages, were in layers on top of one another to create a plush area for the man to sleep.

You sat down with him and he gently pushed your hood off from your head. Smoothing your hair down. This was strange, Izuku has never been so affectionate with you before. This really must be a serious matter.

“Y/n,” oh no. “You’ve been so kind to me these last couple of weeks,” what did you do wrong? “I want to know,” oh god. “How do you feel about me?”

You looked up with your eyes wet with tears about to fall, “What?”

“How do you feel about me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- gods," he took a second to gather his thoughts. "I mean do you have feelings for me?” his face had never been so red as he blurted out his question.

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute your dragon friend was being. Then you accidentally let out a giggle. Seeing his face fall, you took it into your hands and looked him dead in the eye, “Of course I have feelings for you.”

But that didn’t seem to erase the unease from his handsome features. So you explain yourself, “I only laughed because I thought I had made it painfully clear that I care about you more than a friend. It was practically embarrassing how much I showed it.”

This caused Izuku’s cheeks to pass heat to your hands and eyes to look elsewhere. And with his cheeks squished between your palms he muttered, “Well, I didn’t know.”

Your smile grew and so did his. Letting go of his face caused you to look behind his shoulder and see a familiar piece of clothing. Your brows furrowed as you focused on it as you realized that it was your nightgown that’s been missing for weeks.

“Izu, why do you have my nightgown?” you felt his body stiffen next to you.

Damn. How was he supposed to explain this to you? Dragons had a keen sense of smell and everything had a certain scent. Even humans.

“I-I uh, well you see...I took it so my bed could smell like you,” his words came out jumbled but you were able to understand what he said.

“You, like my scent that much?” now it was your turn to have flushed cheeks.

“Of-of course I do. It’s my favorite…”

You sighed. As much as you were flattered, he still stole your clothes.

“You can keep that one, BUT no more stealing my clothing. If you want to borrow something to scent your bed than just ask,” you laid your head on his shoulder and softly scolded him.

“O-okay.” he tapped his two pointer fingers together, minding the sharp nails that came out about an inch. “You mean more to me than any of the treasure here.”

The statement was sudden and quiet. But with your head being next to his mouth, you heard him just fine. Your head lifted from his shoulder to look at him properly. He was about to stutter out a response before you could say anything that would reject his words but you kissed him instead. Your lips collided with his to interrupt anything he was going to say.

After the initial shock passed, Izuku closed his eyes and reciprocated by pressing his lips into yours just as much. Both of your faces now felt hot as did the skin that was touching. You felt his tongue shyly poke at your lips, asking permission for entrance. Once your jaw slackened a bit, he slipped the appendage into your wet cavern and explored every inch. It startled you at first how long his tongue was but you had no complaints as it wrapped around your own.

His hands began to trace down your arms to hold your waist. Gently, he pushed you back to lay down, not once did he break the seal your lips created.

From your waist, his hands roamed your body. Every curve and every dip was not left untouched. He had dreamt for several nights to be able to take you like this. He never thought his dreams would come true.

Izuku could feel his trousers become tighter by the second but all he could think about was getting you ready first.

“Izu- ah!” you went to say his name but a moan escaped from the back of your throat.

The reason for your sudden wanton moan was the feeling of Izuku’s finger slowly slipping between your lips and into your quivering hole.

“My nails aren’t too sharp for you, are they my love?” he broke the kiss to ask his question but continued to leave open-mouthed kisses along your jaw.

“Mm-mm,” suddenly you felt a nip at your skin.

“Use your words.”

You swallowed thickly and gathered as much of your voice as you could, “N-no.”

Feeling him smirk against your skin made you blush harder than it ever has before. A whimper left your mouth as you felt him insert another finger. Slowly, he pumped them in and out, every now and then he scissored them. Opening you up bit by bit so you would be able to take him without too much pain.

Izuku has lived for many decades, only bedding women every few years. He never had the urge to sleep with them unless his ruts were too painful to handle by himself. But right now, he’s feeling insecure. It’s been so long since he’s been with someone. And now that someone means more than anything to him and is lying in his bed. The last thing he wants to do is to get something wrong.

By the time he inserted a third finger, he was placing small bites along your collarbones. Leaving dark purple bruises on your skin made him feel joy knowing all the males in your village will see his marks.

And his ears picked up on every little sound you made. All the whimpers and quiet moans caused by his fingers inside of you. He absolutely loved it.

“Izu~ please give me more,” your heavy-lidded eyes looked down to his curly hair just above your chest.

Reluctantly, he stopped kissing your skin to look into your eyes, “I suppose since you asked so nicely.”

He worked his way down so his head was now between your things. Lifting your skirts up to see your already glistening lips, he took a sharp intake of breath. Your scent was so arousing, Izuku licked his lips and couldn’t help but stare for a few seconds before latching his mouth onto your bud.

He sucked on it hard while continuing the stretching of your tight cunt. Switching from sucking and licking at your clit, his fingers began pumping faster. The clover green dragon was determined to see you fall apart by his mouth and fingers only. However, he could feel the effects of waiting as his bulge became almost painful. For now, he settled with gently rubbing his erection into the blankets.

You, on the other hand, were in a state of absolute pleasure. His thick and calloused fingers rubbed against your rigged walls, his nails very lightly scraping against the muscles. Moans were falling out from your mouth as Izuku kept sucking and licking at your sensitive and throbbing bud.

For a split second, you felt empty as Izuku removed his fingers but replaced them with his tongue. His tongue was longer than a normal human’s, allowing him to reach further than even his fingers. He swept his thumb between your lips and began to circle your clit vigorously. This caused you to reach down to his unruly hair and tug at the strands.

“Izuku-hah.”

He hummed into your opening that caused vibrations to work through your lower half. Soon, your body began to shake and Izuku worked faster to get you to come undone. Your thighs closed around his head and your back arched as you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard leave your mouth before. Izuku only stopped when you tugged at his strands more gently. Bringing his head up from between your legs, caused your face to flush once again seeing your fluids on his lips and chin. He licked his lips and wiped away what was on his chin with the back of his hand.

Izuku’s eyes were practically encased with his pupils. The green iris only being seen as a ring around the pupils. Using his nails, he tore away the pesky dress you have chosen specially for him.

And god, were you absolutely stunning. He just had to stop and stare. Examining and analyzing every spot of skin his eyes could take in. The staring had made you self-conscious and you brought your arms to cover your chest. This caused Izuku to finally blink out of his trance and furrow his brows.

He leaned down to peck your lips, “I want to see all of you.” Gently, he moved your arms away and took you in for another few seconds. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it somewhere out of the way.

Trailing kisses around your breasts, he began to work on freeing himself from the very unwanted trousers that societal decency has cursed upon him. Once his member was free it sprung up and stood tall against his abdomen. While lapping and sucking at your nipples he worked his pants off and threw them elsewhere.

He pressed his hips into yours leaving his cock between both of your stomachs while he gave your other breast the same attention. Slowly, he bucked his hips making precum leak from his tip. Izuku took his large cock into his hand and sat up to sit back on his haunches. This gave you the chance to see just how big he was. Your eyes almost widened to a comical size as you stared at it. The feeling of it against your stomach was not an accurate comparison to what you saw now. It was the biggest you’ve ever seen. There was the size and also the ridges along the bottom of it.

Izuku could feel your hesitation once you saw his cock. So he began to massage your thighs, “Don’t worry my love. It won’t hurt too much. I promise.”

His words made you feel better as you took in a deep breath and nodded for him to continue. He gave himself a few slow pumps before rubbing the head between your lips and around your wet cunt that kept contracting out of anticipation. Slowly and gently, he pushed in his cock little by little. The stretch burned only a little once you relaxed enough for it to push in with ease. Making sure you showed no sign of wanting to stop, he pushed the rest of the way in. You moaned for what must’ve been the one-hundredth time that night. No one and nothing has ever reached so far into your body. You would’ve thought that the ridges would be painful, but they were dull and only added to the pleasure.

The pace of hips was slow as you were still adjusting and felt only a tad bit of pain. It didn’t quite make sense why you were taking him so well for the first time. You thought he might have split you into two. But that thought quickly went away once his pace became quicker.

His thrusts were shallow at first before he heard you calling out his name like a mantra. Wrapping his arms beneath your knees he brought them closer to your chest so he could have a better angle. Now you could feel his cock going even deeper. On particularly hard thrusts you could feel the head nudge the opening to your womb.

Izuku was grunting and groaning as he pounded into you. Your moans became louder as his thrusts became harder.

“Hn! Izu- fuck,” you tried to call his name but a moan stopped you.

“Gods, you feel so good, wrapped around me like this,” his words had you moaning like a whore. “It’s like you were made for me.”

His words only brought you closer to your release as his pace remained consistent. His nails were digging into the flesh of your thighs and sweat trailed down his nose to drop onto your chest.

“You’re squeezing me so tightly-hah~ I don’t think I can last much longer-”

“Fu- ck, Izu. I’m gonna-”

Knowing what you were going to say, he bends his knees to get more balance before continuing. “It’s okay my love, just let go.”

He knew once he felt you release, he going to join you. His thrusts became uneven and sloppy as he leaned down once more to give you a searing kiss.

“Come with me,” he whispered while trailing his hand down between your legs and began to rub your clit in quick small circles. With the new pressure added it didn’t take you long to come undone.

Your back arched, eyes rolled, and body shook as you practically screamed out his name. The clenching of your walls around caused Izuku to pump a few more times before holding still, burying himself at the hilt. The searing hot spurts of his cum added to your euphoric feeling.

The two of you stayed still, catching your breath as Izuku’s cock kept pulsating. Between your panting, you decided to tease the dragon boy, “How long are you going to stay like this?”

He chuckled breathlessly, “You think it’s a lot now, wait until I have my rut in a few months.”

You laughed along with him, just imagining what his rut will be like. Once the two of you caught your breath, Izuku looked down at you, smiling. The love in his eyes made your heart skip.

He went to say something but you interrupted, “I love you.”

The dragon smiled once more, “I love you too, my lovely treasure.”

#server collab #izuku midoria x reader #mha midoriya #izuku smut #izuku midoriya #bnha deku #dragon izuku #deku smut #izu x reader #bnha x reader

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cuntess-carmilla · 3 years

Text

On disability and gender

I'm writing this from my perspective as a dyadic TME non-binary lesbian (also mixed but very pale and non-Black, as well as relatively thin). I will group myself with women but like, I'm also not really a woman it's complicated lol. I say this because I can't have first-hand comprehension of all the possible dynamics between gender and disability, and other physically disabled people are very much encouraged to add their own thoughts and perspectives to this post.

I don't feel equipped to speak on how being disabled and intersex impacts gendered experiences because I have too much left to learn, so I'm sorry that I'm not going to go into it. It's not because I don't recognize that struggle, it's because I just don't have the range, so please, if you're an intersex and physically disabled person and you want to expand on this, don't be afraid to do so.

Able-bodieds can reblog but don't speak out of turn.

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

For a long time I've been trying to articulate my thoughts and pain on how physical disability impacts our gendered experiences and I think I'm finally starting to get to it.

When you're physically disabled you're immediately stripped of a (willing) gender identity as well as desexualized.

Gender is embodied and performed. You can embody it "incorrectly" and perform it "poorly". Everything regarding the embodiment of physically disabled people is seen as incorrect, and the literal meaning of "disabled" is that we can't perform the same way that able-bodied people can, or at least we can't without severely impacting our wellness.

Disabled men are emasculated. Constructs of ideal manhood are in big part built on things such as physical prowess, never expressing vulnerability, being self-sufficient outside of anything domestic, and conquering women sexually and romantically.

Disabled men are seen as weak, they are seen as pathetic for having visible vulnerabilities or (if their disability isn't immediately visible) for exposing their vulnerabilities instead of "sucking it up". By needing aid, accessibility and carers that do more than what a wife would traditionally do for any man, the sense of self-sufficiency men are supposed to perform is unavailable to disabled men. All disabled people are desexualized and seen as repulsive once our sexualities are acknowledged, and even disabled dyadic cishet men can't escape this. Able-bodied women see them as unfit for any sort of serious romantic or sexual partnership. Not to mention too the traditional role of men as providers and how difficult it is for any disabled person to acquire wealth at all, let alone enough to support more than ourselves alone. The rates of poverty for physically disabled people are fucking astronomical, so most disabled men can't even use that to their advantage in romance and sex to make up for all the other ways in which they're at a disadvantage compared to able-bodied men.

Disabled women fail at embodying and performing every single aspect of traditional womanhood too, but in particular; domestic labor, sexual labor, and beauty standards.

All labor is difficult if not downright impossible when you're disabled. Disabled women who need carers as adults are seen as complete failures because, even as children, but especially as adults, we're the ones who're supposed to be the carers of others, not the other way around. People love to pretend that women are coddled more than men, but nothing breaks that illusion more than being a disabled woman. A woman's needs are supposed to be invisible and self-fulfilled, or else we're whiny spoiled bitches, and guess what that means for disabled women. When we can't perform this pristine role we're immediately marked as failures, we're undesirable and nothing but a parasitic drag in the lives of abled people.

Yes, not all disabled women are straight, plenty of us are bi or lesbians, many are also aro/ace, but the point is that the patriarchy doesn't really give a shit what a woman's sexuality is, because no woman is seen as having sexual agency, so even if we're not straight we're expected to exist to satisfy men sexually. I cannot describe how difficult it is to be sexual, even when you're not ace, if you're physically disabled. Speaking from my own experience, trying to maintain a sex life as someone who experiences chronic fatigue and chronic pain is one of the most frustrating and demoralizing aspects of my disability. I want sex, I want to want sex, to be able to fuck my fiancé, but most of the time I simply can't gather the energy to even feel horny. I feel like such a failure of a lover because of it. Even though my fiancé is patient and understanding with me!

Can you imagine what it is like for disabled women who aren't as "lucky" as me, to have a partner who understands that we simply can't do it all the time even if we do want to? I don't want to go into too much detail about this because it's very painful and triggering to many, but I think you can imagine what happens to a lot of disabled women (and disabled people in general) when we're not satisfying a partner sexually and they get too frustrated by it. Being as vulnerable as we are, nobody cares much what happens to us. More so since, again, physically disabled people are seen as sexually repulsive, so if anyone wants sex with us we're supposed to be "thankful" for it, no matter the circumstances.

As for beauty standards, any woman who doesn't fit traditional beauty standards will know just how badly men treat you when they don't find you physically appealing, and well... Let's just say that a cane or a wheelchair aren't seen by society as particularly attractive, no matter how much the woman using them fits traditional beauty standards otherwise. Then there's female amputees, women with deformities, etc. In my case, I'm a literal mutant. If I don't disguise my tells with corsetry, long sleeves, and so, so much more, my body looks "off", I have been told repeatedly that my body looks "off" my whole life, and I'm one of the least visibly disabled ones! Even regarding body hair it's fucking hell. My collagen is so elastic that when new hair grows it stays ingrown unless I manually break my skin with a needle or a pumice stone (no, gentler ways of exfoliation don't work), but shaving isn't ideal either because my skin is, due to my altered collagen too, literally transparent and you can see the roots of my dark hairs under it even if I shave down to accidentally harming my skin with the blade.

Performing femininity at all is just... It's fucking hell. If it's exhausting for able-bodied women, can you imagine what it is like for us? I can barely manage to shower, by the time I'm done with my hair, makeup and outfit, every bit of my very limited energy is depleted and then I still have the rest of the day to go through. And I LIKE being feminine. I like wearing makeup and wearing the outfits I wear and yet I still dread it when I know I'll have to do more than stay in my pajamas at home.

Also, the perceived fragility of disabled women isn't the type of fragility that is seen as desirable in women. It's not delicacy. Wheelchairs, canes and other mobility aids aren't seen as "delicate" or "demure". Neither is kinesio tape, or compression stockings, or any other sort of medical equipment which, on top of it all, tend to not be very "aesthetic". Our fragility isn't the romanticized type, it's the "wow, you're an useless burden who can't serve me the way I expect you to" type.

When it comes to "binary" disabled trans people (for a lack of a better term) the degendering is even more intense than it already is for their cis counterparts (all that I described above applies to them too). There's a dichotomy of the even heavier denial of their actual genders as men and women due to the combination of their transness and disabilities, contrasting with how even if they were to conform to their assigned genders at birth they'd still be seen as failures at it due to everything I've already stated. There's also the sentiment that their identifying outside of their assigned gender at birth is a sort of consolation prize, something they're going for only because they were failing at being proper cis men and cis women, and thus their actual genders are even more invalidated and effectively pathologized in the most medical sense of the word, which is already a problem for all trans people, but for physically disabled trans people this intensifies the problem even more.

When it comes to non-binary disabled people things get so fucking confusing and infuriating. If binary disabled people get denied their manhood and womanhood, best believe that multigender disabled people (bigender, genderfluid, etc) are denied all aspects of their genders even harder. Not even completely agender disabled people are safe from being seen as failures of their gender identities by people who would perfectly respect the identity of an agender but able-bodied person. The fact that the default gendered status of all disabled people is forcefully degendered makes it so agender disabled people aren't seen as having any agency or self-determination in their (lack of or neutral) gender identity, it's seen as a passive inevitability from their embodiment, so it doesn't really "count", while simultaneously being subjected to the general transphobic bullshit any other agender person would be subjected to.

All of these things already affect white, thin and dyadic physically disabled people. When you add race (especially Blackness and/or being dark skinned), fatness and being intersex into the mix, the ways in which we're degendered and misgendered are off the fucking rails.

We can't fucking win.

#disability

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socialjetlagged · 2 years

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hey y’all! this is peyton again (also the mun of sverre olsen) & this time, i’m here to introduce you to moon eunsang. bear w me ‘cause i’ve been pretty busy and i still am so this isn’t my best work but i’ll rework it asap! in the meantime, i’ve got a couple links for him: STATS, PINTEREST and anything else worth knowing will (hopefully) be below the cut.

QUICK INFO

frommmm busan’s general vicinity / a little outside of busan? pretty small area, everyone knowing everyone and all that.

raised by a (mostly) happy couple as the younger of two boys. parents loved them both equally, but eunsang was always the shy one whereas his brother was a natural charmer so i think he got to do a lot more than eunsang did??? like he played sports, joined kids’ clubs, whatever while eunsang just like... stayed at home with his mom LMFAO

and i think he wanted to get out and do more, but his parents didn’t want to stress him out so they never pushed him and he was too nervous to take the first step on his own so... rip to his social life???!?

now, that said: eunsang was a really intelligent kid, but i wouldn’t say it came naturally? he studied super hard ‘cause he had nothing else to do tbh and i guess academics is where he shined. parents frequently mentioned how eunsang was gonna be the one to break out of this cycle of like generational poverty (not that they said that to HIM ‘cause he was just a kid yk) / often told him he was doing well and that he was lucky ‘cause he’d be able to work w his mind instead of his hands and live a comfortable life, said that being happy and comfortable was all that they really wanted for him.......

umm unfortunately eunsang did end up losing his mom when he was around 13/14 and while he STILL wasn’t getting out and doing anything, he also didn’t want to study anymore / didn’t have the motivation or energy to study. he was super super attached to her (kind of an unspoken understanding that he had his mom, his brother had their dad lmfao) so it took a huge toll on him and like... his future kinda went down the drain? ‘cause grades were finally actually getting important but all he wanted to do was sleep in class, sleep at home, etc.

eventually started self-medicating too and i do think there were a handful of figures in his life who noticed he was doing really really bad and they tried to help him, but at the end of the day, it’s hard to help a kid who refuses to cooperate when there are many other kids who really WANTED help so naturally he was left behind.

got rly into the internet as an escape around this time, got really into music too so he spent a lot of time fucking around w his acoustic guitar (that he got when he was like 11 but never put much effort into playing, typical kid shit) and trying to write songs, making tiktoks, finding a little niche community to settle into.

he eventually started posting snippets of songs on tiktok like “1k likes and i’ll drop the full version!” (spoiler: he’s never written a full song in his life) and idk i think he kinda started growing??!?! but he acted a lot different on tt than he acts in real life, so he had the people in his community being like “well, eunsang will come back around, he’s a good kid” vs his internet community falling in love with this fake ass personality he showed, and neither perception of him were actually.... right.... so it fucked with his head a lot.

ummm for reference, here are a few songs that i find very very similar to what eunsang writes: bugs by lonesome rhodes, if you love me, come clean by flatsound, your dog loves you by colde, dead oaks by now, now, headache by elaine, cloud by goopy, liking all your posts by oscar lang??? / very easy listening, mainly written w an acoustic guitar & nothing else but he does fuck around with computer software sometimes.

so you’d think that’s the kind of music he’s into, right? and sometimes it is, but he’s actually really into hyperpop at the moment. most played song of january 2022 was haunted by laura les.

anyway: for a while, music was what he REALLY wanted to do. it’s what pulled him out of his sadness and, well, isn’t it human nature to want to create, anyway? / but his dad encouraged him to be realistic and honest to god, eunsang’s not rly the kind of guy who could be a performer anyway so he started aiming to becoming an entomologist. he’s always had a lil interest in bugs anyway and like... science is hard as hell but i’d say that’s almost why he chose to go into a specialized science??? idk i think he’s trying to find his ambition again

but anyway he’s at hansung (biology major, sophomore) because naturally he’s poor and has nothing to show for his academic abilities -- in some ways, he’s finally starting to come out of his shell and live again, but in others, it’s almost like he’s losing himself in a whole new way? bc he goes to a lot of parties as he feels like that’s what’s expected of him, but he pretty much always ends up leaving early (or breaking down in the bathroom lbr) whereas less of his time is spent doing things he actually enjoys / tikok account is dry as hell now and his guitar’s collecting dust. like... he’s still very focused on becoming a person that other people can like or view as cool but fr eunsang is not meant to be cool?!?!?

wants to find himslf, doesn’t know where to start. doesn’t help that everyone back home is like “damn eunsang, this is the best you could do???? really?!?!” ‘cause hansung’s soooo shitty and definitely not what was expected of him. it is what it is.

CONNECTIONS

1. coming soon, i promise.

#hs:intro

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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Okay, so here we go! Chapter 1 of “No Regrets”!

There’s a few things I want to point out about this chapter, because both visually and textually, we get a lot of information about the Underground and Levi, and his relationship with Isabel and Furlan. So I’ll just go through it.

The first thing that really caught my attention for this chapter was the opening page, which is a retrospective shot of Levi after he’s joined the SC, thinking about how he can’t ever know what the results of his choices are going to be. He says here “I trusted in my own strength... I trusted in the decisions of comrades who had earned my faith...” And this quote from Levi is really important in later understanding why he makes the choice he does, at the end. He says he trusted in the decisions of comrades who had earned his faith, and that tells us that Levi believes in Furlan and Isabel, that he believes in their strength and their capability, that he believes in them enough to let them choose for themselves and trust in their judgement. We’ll obviously delve more into this as it becomes more relevant to the story. But moving on...

The next thing to catch my attention is the panels of the Underground we see. These are probably the best shots of this place we get in the whole series, as it really depicts a place that is totally run down and dilapidated, with buildings falling apart and crumbling in disrepair, filth ridden streets with literal sewage water coming out of drain pipes, and a actual cave cover overhead, complete with stalactites, blocking out all sunlight except for few and far between pockets which break through holes in the rock ceiling. The most telling panels though are the ones which depict the violence and poverty of the place. We see a panel of a homeless man passed out on the street, painfully thin looking, and under him, two men in a fight, one beating the other violently. And the next panel shows us a little girl, sitting barefoot on the ground between two men who have just blown each other’s brains out with guns. Truly, this is a violent, dark, poverty-stricken place that breeds crime and depravation. The pages before this say that BECAUSE of the splendor of the Capital city above the Underground, this place exists, and that’s accurate. Because of the excesses and decadence of the rich and well off above these people rejected by society, that means fewer resources for the less fortunate. It’s truly tragic.

Alright, now I just want to move on to some small, but telling moments here while Levi and the others are being chased by Erwin and his crew.

When Isabel is bragging about how the MP’s never learn, referring to how they’ll never be able to catch their gang, she asks Levi if what she said was cool. Levi tells her “Don’t be stupid.” This might seem like Levi just blowing her off, but the way I read it, it seems more to me like Levi is warning her not to be cocky, not to be over confident, because that’s the kind of thing that can get you killed, or caught. Big Bro indeed! We also see how mindful Levi is here as a leader, when he tells them they can’t afford to lead the soldiers following them straight to their hideout, and clearly they have a plan in place for just this sort of thing.

More importantly, Levi is fast to realize these aren’t ordinary soldiers after them, which shows his great instincts, but what’s really interesting is his internal thoughts here. His logic is telling him regular MP’s wouldn’t work this hard to catch them, and that their skill with the ODM means they must be SC. But Levi doesn’t really believe it which, given what we later find out about the deal with Lobov, and Lobov warning them of Erwin’s plans, tells us that Levi never really believed the SC would come after them. He’s clearly surprised here.

Further, after informing Isabel and Furlan and confirming his suspicions, he tells Furlan that he’s got no intention of getting mixed up with “these guys”. This tells us Levi never wanted to go through with Furlan’s plans, never wanted to join the SC, never wanted anything to do with any of it. There’s further evidenced in this very chapter, which I’ll get to in a moment. But it tells us a lot about the dubious feelings Levi had from the start, and how he probably would have simply been happiest to stay in the Underground with his friends, even though it was a hard life.

Alright, so, this next part is a big deal, and it’s an overlooked detail which speaks volumes about the kind of person Levi is. I didn’t even notice this the first time I read it, so I want to talk about it. Levi separates from Isabel and Furlan, and takes Erwin and Mike on a wild chase through the back alley’s and narrow passages of the slums. He really tries to give them the run around here, until he flips over a door, into another area. What’s really important here is Levi’s dialog. He says first “... Lost ‘em, huh?” And then he says, “That got a little crazy... I hope... none of them crashed.” This is kind of amazing. Levi is showing actual concern for the two soldiers who’d just attempted to catch him and his friends, who were doggedly pursuing them with obviously bad intentions of some kind. And Levi, after having to resort to some serious ODM skills to shake them, says he hopes that none of them crashed. He doesn’t want Erwin or Mike to get hurt, he just wants to get away from them. Considering he doesn’t know either of them at this point, they’re just nameless, faceless military dogs trying to mess things up for him, that shows remarkable character.

Of course, things go downhill from there, when Mike crashes through the door and tackles him. All bets are off then, because Levi’s life is now in danger, and when that happens, he’ll resort to physical force. Still, he only throws Mike off of him and once again attempts to get away, only for it to be Erwin who swoops down and cuts Levi’s cables. This was actually really dangerous. Given Levi’s momentum and position, he crashes hard into a nearby wall before falling to the ground. So we already see some of that ruthlessness from Erwin here. Of course, that spurs Levi into violence himself. I have no doubt that when Levi lunges for Erwin and knocks his blade away, bringing his knife to his neck, he truly intended to kill him in that moment. Levi’s compassion for these soldiers can only go so far, considering the desperation of his own circumstances. If Mike hadn’t been there to stop it, I think Levi probably would have ripped Erwin’s jugular right out, and that would have been that, lol. And then, it’s important to note too WHY Levi stops. Not because Mike was able to physically restrain him, but because he tells Levi to look around himself, directing his attention to the fact that Furlan and Isabel have been caught. That immediately stays Levi’s hand, and once again, we’re shown how Levi puts the wellbeing of his friends above himself. He could have ditched Furlan and Isabel right then and there and escaped on his own. Instead, he allows himself to be restrained and cuffed. He refuses to abandon them.

Now the next scene is hugely important to a lot of stuff.

Erwin’s got Levi and his friends down on their knees, in the sewage, questioning them about their ODM skills, and the three of them stay silent, obviously defiant. We really get a good look at Erwin’s abilities as a manipulator here.

He’s pulling the whole good cop/bad cop routine on Levi, when he tells him “I’d like to avoid any rough treatment if I can” before looking to Mike in a clear signal for Mike to pretty damn violently tear Levi’s head back by his hair before smashing his face into the sewage on the ground. And this really IS sewage. It’s not mud. If you look at the panels, we see this brown muck coming out of drain pips attached to the surrounding buildings. This water is probably, literally, dirty with feces, and Erwin has Mike put Levi’s face in this and hold it there. Now let’s remember something important about Levi. He’s a clean freak. He obviously cares deeply about keeping both himself and his environment clean. Erwin couldn’t know this about him at the time, but nobody of course would be happy about having their face shoved into literal shit. But for Levi, I can only imagine this had to be tantamount to a kind of torture. Erwin keeps questioning him, looking down at him without any kind of emotion, and Levi remains stubbornly silent, despite how awful this must truly be for him. We get a close up of Levi’s eye in one of the panels, paralleled with Erwin’s own, and Levi’s expression really strikes me as one of awful humiliation. He goes from looking up at Erwin in rage, to looking away, staring straight ahead, while Erwin keeps looking down at him.

Still, Levi says nothing, and it’s Isabel who finally cracks, telling Erwin that they didn’t learn to use ODM from anyone, with Furlan further explaining that they taught themselves as a means of survival. He remarks that “anyone who doesn’t know what sewage tastes like couldn’t understand!”. Clearly, both of them are really upset to see this being done to Levi, and I have to imagine it’s at least in part because they know how awful an experience this has to be for him, given that they know how much he desires to stay clean. Their shocked expressions when Mike first pushes Levi’s face into the sewage says as much too.

But still, Levi remains silent as Erwin then demands to know Levi’s name. What Mike does to Levi in the next panel is even worse. He pushes his face into the sewage and holds him there until Levi literally starts to choke in it, for long enough that, when he finally does pull him up, Levi is gasping for breath. I really don’t see people talk enough about this scene, but, well...

It’s a torture scene. Erwin is ordering Mike to torture Levi here. It may not be the most extreme form of torture, it isn’t the type of physical violence we typically think of when we think of torture, but that’s what it is. It’s causing Levi both physical and mental degradation, as well as physical distress.

Even with this though, Levi’s still silent and refuses to answer Erwin at all.

It’s only when Erwin literally threatens the lives of Furlan and Isabel that he finally talks. This is such an important detail. Levi was willing to take what to him must have been truly horrific treatment, but as soon as Erwin gives the signal to the other two Scouts who have hold of his friends, we see Levi’s expression shift from defiant rage to wide eyed fear as they put their blades to Furlan’s and Isabel’s throats.

Finally Levi talks, calling Erwin a “bastard”, to which Erwin simply asks him again what his name is, and after a slight hesitation, Levi finally gives it.

I think this entire scene is vital in understanding WHY Levi was so violently pissed at Erwin, to the point of wanting to kill him.

I think it’s a combination of both the humiliation and torture he puts Levi through here, and, worse still, the fact that he threatens Isabel and Furlan’s lives. Levi already feels looked down upon by Erwin here, he already feels humiliated and embarrassed and as though he’s being treated like he’s worthless, because Erwin IS treating him like that here. All while Erwin stands there, expressionless, making statements like he doesn’t want to have to use any rough treatment, etc... while at the same time ordering Mike to do just that. Already, Erwin is sending Levi the message that he’s a liar and a manipulator who thinks nothing of putting another human being’s face in shit. And then, to top that off, he shows Levi that he’s willing to hurt, maybe even kill, his two friends to get what he wants.

Is it any wonder Levi hated Erwin as much as he did at the beginning? After a lifetime in the Underground where, from the time of his birth, he had to deal with him and those he cares about being treated like worthless trash. It would be a miracle if Levi DIDN’T want to kill Erwin at this point. To have to then submit to him willingly, after all of that, must have been beyond humiliating for him.

Erwin continues to be manipulative here too, when after Levi gives his name, Erwin’s attitude suddenly shifts, and he smiles at Levi and gets down on one knee with him, in the filth, his entire demeanor seeming to shift into an abruptly friendly one as he offers his deal to Levi. Again, that whole good cop/bad cop thing. At the same time, he continues to threaten Levi by telling him if he refuses his offer, he’ll hand them all over to the MP’s and that, given their crimes, they shouldn’t expect to be treated with any kind of decency. What’s kind of funny about this statement from Erwin is that up until now, Erwin and Mike have done anything but treat Levi decently.

Okay, one more important point to make about this chapter, and it goes back to what I said earlier about Levi not wanting anything to do with the SC, and how that tells us Levi really didn’t want to go through with Furlan’s plans.

After Erwin makes his offer, we see Levi look over at Furlan, who’s giving him an intent look, and in the next panel, we see an almost surprised, or astonished look on Levi’s face, like he can’t believe Furlan is asking him to do this, before he grits his teeth in obvious frustration, and then accepts Erwin’s offer to join the SC. What this tells us is that Levi only takes Erwin’s offer because Furlan wanted him to. Because this was all part of Furlan’s plan, to go through with Lobov’s commission, to get caught by the SC, etc... It’s clear Levi never wanted this, and he’s upset at having to do it. But the fact he agrees after looking over at Furlan and seeing him implore Levi with his eyes tells us, once again, that Levi is willing to sacrifice his own desires for the desires of others. That being his two friends.

For them, he’ll join the Survey Corps, even as every one of his instincts is probably screaming at him that this is a bad idea.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for the first chapter of “No Regrets”. There’s a lot more to unpack in this manga than I think people realize. I hope whoever took the time to read my long ass post found it at least a little worth while. I’ll be moving on to chapter two next!

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #No Regrets #acwnr #Levi Ackerman #Furlan Church #isabel magnolia #meta #snk analysis

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