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linkspooky · 3 years

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Hello, I just wanna ask what are your thoughts on ObaMitsu from KnY?

Something I noticed with Iguro and Mitsuri is that in the final battle Iguro loses his eyes and Mitsuri loses her arms which Iguro's heterochromia and Mitsuri's freakish strength are major causes for their respective tragedies and even though Mitsuri cannot hold him and Iguro cannot see her they proclaim their love for each other, not letting their pasts define who they are but if it weren't for their pasts and their sadness they'd have never met.

I’m going to add onto another Anon’s thoughts in regards to Obamitsu, I believe the relationship between them was written as a tragic, unfulfilled love.

In my previous meta I elaborated that both Obanai and Mitsuri believe deep down, they are unlovable people. What they’re fighting against isn’t really demons though, it’s their own feelings of self loathing that they externalize. Both of them have body features that resemble demons, Mitsuri is unnaturally strong like the demons in this world, whereas Iguro’s mouth was cut to resemble the snake demon that his family fed for generations. Both Mitsuri and Obanai have incredibly unhealthy self images, they don’t see themselves as humans, but rather as demons because of their unnatural bodies.

They both live their lives defined by rejection, not acceptance. Obanai was first imprisoned by his family, then blamed by the sole living family member for the deaths of the rest of his family, because he was born as a sacrifice, because he was supposed to be eaten. Mitsuri’s arranged marriage rejected her because of her body, her strength, her hair.

Both of them have been rejected all of their lives for features they were born with, Obanai was born to be a sacrifice, and born into a family that fed other people to a demon, and also planned on feeding him and he blames himself for being born that way. Mitsuri blamed herself for other people’s rejections, it was because she was so strange, it was because she had such a monstrous body.

Their response to this is to try to hide themselves, their physical features, their deformities. They believe in a body like this, they could never be accepted as normal and because of that they have to do something to make up for it. Because they were born as abnormal, they can’t fix themselves in this lifetime, but they try to anyways.

Instead of being themselves, they both want to be “normal”. Except they also both believe it’s impossible for either of them to live a normal life, Mitsuri because of her strength, and Obanai because he can’t be forgiven for the family he was born into.

They’re both seeking love and acceptance for who they are, while at the same time they’re self sabotaging, neither of them really believes they deserve such a thing. That’s why they try to earn love by fighting. Mitsuri believes if she fights with the demon hunters she’ll prove she’s worthy of love, and Obanai believes that if he defeats demons he can at least make up for what he’s done in the past.

They can’t ever feel good inside about themselves, so they seek validation from outside. They try to do good deeds, they try to fight, to prove that they arebetter than they think they are. However, that’s a flawed premise to begin with for both of them, because love isn’t earned, it’s given.

Mitsuri wants to be loved, and Obanai loves Mitsuri and wants to confess his feelings to her. It seems like a match made in heaven, no only that, but they already love each other for who they are, Obanai loves Mitsuri’s strong body, and Mitsuri sees through all of Obanai’s toxic facade and the mask he wears and believes he’s a good person.

They already love each other, neither of them has to prove anything to the other. However, at the same time they can’t speak of their feelings. Why? It’s because deep down, both of them are too insecure to believe they deserve that love. They’re actually, too similiar.

That’s why MItsuri and Obanai always add the caveat, I have to do this first, I can only love you in this world.

Both of them kind of believe they can’t achieve love in this lifetime, and that’s what’s so tragic about it. Obanai has the wrong idea about Mitsuri to begin with, she wants to love him as he is in this lifetime, he doesn’t have to die to prove himself.

And Obanai never once viewed Mitsuri as weak, or helpless, he just wanted to protect her because he believed she was more precious than himself. They’re so similiar in their flaws, that it causes a misunderstanding where they both keep throwing themselves into conflict to try to prove themselves and earn each other’s love when... neither of them loved each other for being strong or fighting demons.

Mitsuri was always a normal girl, and always a strong girl in Obanai’s eyes. He fell in love with that person.

And Mitsuri always believed from the beginning that Obanai was a strong person, she always wanted to be around him despite what Obanai’s self loathing would lead him to believe that he’s not worthy to be around the people he loves. They were already in love, and they could have been their for each other in thi life, but it was too late by that point.

Also, to add onto the anons point about how they couldn’t accept their pasts even though it made them who they were, and were the reasons they met they’re mostly right. As I’ve said this whole post, their self loathing makes it impossible for both characters to reconcile who they are now with who they were. It’s a shared flaw both of them have. They both try so hard to be a different person than who they were born as, they try to meet up in a different lifetime, ignoring the fact that this is the lifetime where they met. If they had not been born in this life, they never would have met, and never would have fallen in love. They both in a way contradict the theme of the series “you were born to be happy” because they’re both so self-defeating they don’t think they can be happy in this life, or ever happy with themselves.

I would also say their injuries are symbols of their self loathing, Mitsuri’s limbs get destroyed, and Obanai’s eyes get destroyed. Those were the features they hated about themselves the most, but loved about each other. Obanai admired her bottomless strength in loving others, and Mitsuri loved that he looked at her and accepted her. Therefore, they were wrong in seeking to destroy those parts of themselves. Mitsuri’s strength was a part of who she was, and what made her lovable, just as much as Obanai’s past and his eyes define the current kind person he is always trying to selflessly save others.

#Anonymous #metasks #kny meta #obamitsu #kanroji mitsuri #iguro obanai #kimetsu no yaiba meta #kimetsu no yaiba

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minisoysquares · 3 years

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As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun

(This ask and answer is about this post.)

First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.

I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.

I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.

All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.

In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.

Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.

If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.

Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.

Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:

Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')

It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!

If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.

Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.

We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.

Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!

Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.

So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)

Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!

There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.

If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!

Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.

It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.

It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.

Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!

This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!

Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.

#answered asks #19 tian #19天 #19 days #old先 #old xian #zhanyi #qiucheng #tianshan #jian yi #zhan zheng xi #he cheng #qiu #brother qiu #he tian #mo guan shan #she li #cun tou #xiao hui

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bamberry · 3 years

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Let the Mayhem Begin || Chapter 1 - Revealing Truths

Adrien Agreste x Marinette Dupain Cheng Pairing

Summary: When Chat Noir reveals his secret identity to Alya, all she can do is painfully watch the two make an absolute mess of themselves. But who said she couldn’t make it worth her while.

Ao3

The Beginnings of a story are the most important.

———————————————————————

It was few weeks after Marinette, her best friend, who couldn’t even get a single word out around a certain blonde, who often fell or bumped into a number of objects and people, told her that she was Ladybug, the hero Alya very much admired.

It had taken a few days and a sleepover to adjust to the fact that Marinette was secretly a renowned super heroine who was fighting every day to protect the city of Paris from a crazy butterfly man.

So when Marinette told her that Chat Noir and Ladybug didn’t know each other’s own identities she was quite surprised.

“But you guys are like the greatest duo in history?”

Marinette then went onto explaining that of the consequences and possibilities of Chat Noir knowing who she was. Alya had to be the one to reassure her that Chat Noir would never do anything to try and hurt Ladybug or Marinette for that matter. Alya fought alongside the guy a few times, if anything it’d be the last thing he’d do.

But nonetheless, Alya too had to respect Marinette’s choice.

“I’m going to have to tell him I told someone about my identity.” She tells Alya.

“Why?” Alya asked.

“He’s deserves to know that I told someone. He’s my partner and in order to protect Paris the best we can he has to know that I told someone else not because I didn’t trust him. But because I did what I knew what best. I have to trust that he’ll understand that.”

Alya really didn’t need Marinette to tell her twice that she was Ladybug. It was clear as day.

“You’re too good for this world Mari.” Alya pulled Marinette into a hug. Of course the blue-pigtailed girl returned the hug.

When they pulled apart Alya could tell something was still on Marinette’s mind.

“What is it?”

“It’s just-does that mean Chat Noir can tell someone who he is too? I mean, it only makes sense. It’d be fair. But what if he tells his identity to the wrong person? What if everyone, including Hawk Moth finds out? I couldn’t stand the fact if Chat Noir had to give up his miraculous because of that.”

“Marinette.” Alya grabbed her shoulders to calm the girl down,”I think Chat Noir is perfectly capable of making that choice for himself. He might be silly sometimes but you know he’s capable of making the right decisions. I’m sure he wouldn’t think about telling someone like Chloe or Lila.”

Speaking of Lila, Alya was quick to apologize to Marinette and is now currently plotting Lila’s demise, however unhero like that may sound.

“What if Chat Noir told you?” The question caused Alya to lose her train of thought,”What?”

“Think about it, you’re the first person to ever resist Hawkmoths power. If anything his secret would be most safest with you. Then there’d be no worry about our identities getting out.”

Alya looked at her completely surprised. As much as Alya would love to know Chat’s identity, it was not their decision to make. Plus Alya didn’t know if she could currently handle knowing another secret identity. Or maybe she just end up exploding with excitement

“Marinette, that’s something Chat Noir has to be able to decide for himself. “

She sighed,”You’re right Alya. But it wouldn’t hurt to give him that option. Regardless, I’m telling him tonight during patrol. “

Alya patted her best friends back,”It’ll be alright. I’m sure.”

“I just hope he doesn’t hate me Alya. Chat Noir has always wanted for us to truly know each other. I won’t lie, a part of me always refuses out of what he might think of my civilian self.”

“Marinette you’re literally one of the most kind hearted souls I’ve ever even met. You’re brave, strong-headed. If anything, Chat Noir would just love you even more.” Alya said with a mischievous smirk.

“Alya!!” Marinette fumed with red.

—

And so, that’s how Chat Noir ended up at Alya’s window later that night.

“Chat Noir?”

“Hey Alya,” Chat looked around to make sure there was nobody had been watching,”This isn’t a bad time is it?”

“Not at all. So what’s one of paris’s favorite superheroes doing here at this hour?”

Chat Noir sat on the window sill as he watched Alya,”Ladybug told me she told someone her secret identity.”

Alya figured much already. She can see how it seemed a bit upset by it.

“At first I wasn’t really thrilled. I had always wanted mi’lady to be the one to tell me who she was first. I thought it was because she didn’t trusted me.” Chat Noir said still looking rather glumly. Alya didn’t say a word, instead she let him continue.

“I won’t lie and say I really hurt by it. But then she told me she told you.” He said,”Which is kind of ironic because I couldve sworn you were the one who owned the blog that was made to figure out who we were.” He chuckled.

“But I thought about it, and I realized mi’lady is under a lot of pressure for being the new guardian. I get how stressful it must of been for her. But I also understand why she still couldn’t tell me. I don’t hate her for it though.”

“You must really love Ladybug.” Alya said to him.

“I do.” He replied looking back out at the city,”So when she me told that I could tell someone I trusted if I needed to. I wasn’t really sure who I could go to. Or if I even wanted to. I mean sure, I have some friends who come to mind, and they’re great and all but ..” He stopped for a few moments before continuing,”But I don’t really know if I’ve even shown them the real me yet.”

Alya felt heartbroken for the superhero. Did he really have no one who knew about his real self besides Ladybug? Did he really not tell those annoying cat puns with to his friends? Someone he could turn to? A part of her just wanted to hug him and give the reassurance that he wasn’t alone in how he felt. But she withheld.

“So when Ladybug suggested I could tell you. I was conflicted? Not because I don’t like you or anything like that , because you’re a great person. But if I’m being honest, I don’t know how’d you feel about that.”

Was Chat Noir really asking how Alya would feel if she knew his identity too. Would it be too much for her to handle and cause her to meltdown? Would she feel suddenly more burdened with another secret and possibly run away? Was he seriously asking her after all he just shared how she would feel?

“How I felt?” Alya asked dumbfounded.

“Ladybug trusted you with her secret for a reason. I don’t want to be the reason you might feel overwhelmed. You’re currently the reason why Ladybug is doing better and I don’t want to take that from her because I shared my identity with you.”

For the first time in a while, Alya didn’t know what to say and for a while she remained silent. Even after it all, it was still all for Ladybug.

Alya mentally cursed in her head and made a note to subtlety open Mari’s eyes to the possibility of Chat Noir.

“Alya?” Chat asked. Apparently Alya had been silent for a little too long.

“Sorry. It’s a lot to think about.” Alya said,”But you know what, I’m strong too. I know I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

“So you’re saying I can trust you?” Chat Noir’s tail seemed to move excitedly for a moment. It’s almost like he expected to be rejected.

“Of course you can, and to prove that. I’ll let you in on a secret of mine.” Alya said as she put her hands on her hips,”I’m Rena Rogue.”

Chat Noir’s eyes widened as he slowly forms a bright smiles on his face,”I should’ve known Ladybug would’ve chosen you for the fox miraculous. But I’m glad it was you.”

They both laughed and talked about the various battles they fought together in for a while until a comfortable silence fell between them.

“Alya.” Chat said,”I want to tell you who I am. But I want you to know something before I do.” He said,”I know you. In real life I mean. Like I know you in person. As in we’re already mutual friends.”

Alya eyebrows arched a bit, to say that enough to make Alya start thinking of the potential candidates. Ever since LadyBlog took off, Alya did have some fame to her name so she wouldn’t have been surprised if she had met his civilian form during an interview or something of the sort. But to say that they were already friends?

Chat Noir took a deep breath,”Okay I won’t lie I’m a bit nervous.” He laughed hugging his baton protectively.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. “

“No I do. It’ll be fine I think.” He said as Alya stared at him intensely.

“Uh alya.. you’re making me a bit more nervous.” He said embarrassingly. Alya shook her head,”Right sorry sorry just continue.” She said letting her unintentional threatening gaze ease.

“Okay.” The air thickened around as the tension increased.

“Okay but if you like hate me after th-“

“Oh my god CHAT NOIR.” Alya said almost laughing at his sudden nervousness.

“Can you? Turn around?” He asked fiddling with his fingers.

Alya did just that. He reminded her of Marinette around Adrien. Except Chat Noir could at least get a few words out instead of none.

She heard a deep breath

“Plagg, claws in.” He said. It was silent before she heard another voice,”You got any cheese on you?”

“Oh Plagg, you and your stinky cheese can wait.” The voice said.

Alya turned around and when she tells you nothing couldve prepared her for this. She means absolutely nothing.

“You-“ Alya choked out. Her mind racing literally everywhere. “But-“

Adrien scratched his neck and chuckled nervously,”Guess the cats out of the bag.”

“Oh my god.” Alya was in complete disbelief. Or was she? It slowly started to come together. He constant sneaking away. The way he had never been akumatized and was never seen together in the same room. The way he looked like Chat Noir when she for fun drew a mask on him that day she showed Marinette.

She froze. Marinette is Ladybug. Chat Noir is Adrien. Chat Noir loves Ladybug. Ladybug is Marinette. Marinette loves Adrien. Adrien is Chat Noir.

These idiots were in fucking love with each other and they didn’t even know. Alya wanted to just scream.

“Alya?”Adrien asked worriedly,”You havent said anything in a while? Are you disappointed?”

Alya’s spiritual form slapped her in the back of the head,”No!” She almost shouted. Adrien stared at her like she had gone mad.

“No! Not at all! Just surprised but not really? Does that make sense?”

“You’re not surprised ?” Adrien asked her curiously.

“It’s complicated.” Alya admits,”But I appreciate you sharing your secret with me Adrien. You can trust me.”

“Thanks Alya, it feels nice to have another friend.”

“Of course.”

And with that, the two spend the next hour or so just talking. About being Adrien and about being Chat Noir. It was clear Adrien was still pretty closed off about his Adrien life but Alya didn’t want to push him to say something he wasn’t ready to say.

When Chat Noir left Alya practically let out small a small screech ,”THEYRE literally GOING TO END UP KILLING ME WHEN THEY FIND OUT.”

“WHY ARE THEY MAKING IT SO DAMN COMPLICATED.” Alya banged her head against wall.

But then a thought occurred. A very dangerous but fun one.

She chuckled evilly to herself in her room as her forehead turned a bright red.

Alya knew these two would never get anywhere and she of course has sworn to secrecy. But no one said that she couldn’t help out the oblivious lovebirds. Of course she’d be discreet.

Her laughing became ridiculous, one full with mischievous intent. She plopped herself at her desk and began typing away at her computer.

Operation Cat-Bug| . . .

Alya saw the sun rise by the time she stepped back from her computer. A sight to behold. Sure, in need of a little proof reading but nonetheless she had it all planned down in her computer. She nodded in approval as she hit save. School was going to start in about an hour.

She proudly stood up from her chair, legs aching and sore but she did not feel an ounce of tiredness. It was the opposite actually. Excitement jittered through her.

Let the Mayhem Begin

—

omg hi! I’m starting this series. I don’t know exactly how many chapters it will be but I don’t blame on having it be more than 10. Or maybe who knows, I’ll just go where the wind takes me.

ao3 link

I promise they’ll get longer this is the introduction *wink face*

Next Chapter: School Days

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1994sunflower · 3 years

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Being stuck with Michael because of the storm but we had a fight

i pushed this request up on my list just because all the snow emergencies, especially in states like Texas are so devastating so i wanted to get something cute and short out to kind of take your minds away.

in which you get snowed in during a fight

The silence was deafening. Even the streets below, which you could usually always hear filled with college students out on their lawns, partying, from outside of your apartment window, were desolate.

It was to be expected with the multiple feet of snow covering everything from lawns to the streets themselves. Whatever snow plowing could be done had been minimal, not prepared for such a big amount, so it was too dangerous to even try to go out and drive somewhere. But somehow, the fact that the silence was even in your own home was at once frustrating and heartbreaking.

The heating in your apartment didn’t do away with the bite of the cold entirely. You were still shivering, even when covered head to toe with your blanket in your bedroom. Any other time, it would be simple. Just cuddle with Michael. He always brought warmth to you, if not for the sheer fact of having another, bigger, body to yours then for the warmth in your heart at having your boyfriend so close.

But yet, even when it was so obvious, it should have been simple. You were still laying alone on your bed with the door locked while he was in your living room. Neither of you having spoken in what seemed like hours, interrupted only by frustrated comments at one another.

Any other time, maybe you would have stayed away from each other for a while. Just to let you cool your heads and get past whatever it was that happened. But this time, Michael was forced to stay put in your house. Not having any other choice because of the snow. It was too dangerous outside, to drive or to be outside for too long without the proper equipment. Which he did not have because he hadn’t planned to leave your home for a while. It never occurred to him, or you, that anything would happen that would make him want to leave earlier, especially when, if he had the chance, he’d usually never want to leave your side.

Instead, you were forced to be under the same roof and dwelling in the anger and silence swirling between you, making it impossible for it to subside. You only spoke when necessary, when you had to feed him or when he gave you updates on the snow emergency. Even then, your tones were anything but forgiving to each other. It was awkward at best and each time you glanced at him, you felt a wave of anger at how stubborn he was being and by his clipped comments and answers to your biting or cold questions, he felt it too.

“I made food. Get some if you want.”

“Later.”

“Then make your own food next time.”

“Don’t ask if you don’t want me to answer however I want.”

“I just didn’t want you to be a jerk but I guess that’s too much to ask for.”

Neither of you had even seemed close to apologizing to each other. In fact, he had made it a point to barely look at you, which hurt maybe a little more than he expected it to. Which is why, it was better for him to be out of your sight. You left for your room and felt a bite of disappointment when he did nothing to stop you.

It was a stupid fight. You thought he was being difficult and he thought you were being unreasonable. And now, desperately lonely and missing his presence with you, you could maybe see neither of you had been wrong.

You hadn’t really realized how bad everything was outside. How, quite literally, you couldn’t go outside because of the snow. So when you asked Michael if he could, or both of you could, go get more groceries since you saw how the snow emergency wasn’t going to subside any time soon, his answer bothered you more than you’d like to admit.

It wasn’t just him denying you, it was the way he did it so bluntly and without any explanation, as if you were crazy for just asking. Especially when he reminded you so rudely, in your eyes, that you didn’t need a restock. Which, he may have had a point. But just because he wasn’t overly cautious with his things and planning for the upcoming week, didn’t mean you weren’t.

Your response maybe held more bite than either of you were expecting and you saw the way his jaw tightened. He was mad. Obviously not to the point he would get mad at others, he would never be that way with you. But still, it wasn’t the passiveness he held with you that usually would let you get away with most everything. And his resolve to stick with hat anger made you want to scream.

Especially then when you curled up deeper into your blanket, looking at the phone in your hand blankly when really all you wanted to do was go to the living room and curl up in your boyfriend’s lap. You missed him, you wanted the warmth and protection he provided, especially in a winter storm that seemed to bring out isolation and uncertainty. You hated feeling his anger towards you, were so used to feeling nothing but love. Anything else felt wrong.

You gnawed at your lip. You wished you could just apologize and pretend nothing happened. Because in a time where you were forced to spend your time together, no way to leave each other’s presence, with only each other, it wasn’t fair that you were angry and weren’t having a good time.

But you couldn’t apologize now. It’s been too long and by the cold way Michael was treating you, which you weren’t used to, you weren’t exactly sure how he would take it. If he would apologize back or if he would keep being angry like he was so used to being. He could hold a grudge, you knew, you’d seen it.

But that was toward everyone else. You were different, always his exception. You should have learned that by now.

Maybe if you had, you would have expected the soft opening and closing of your bedroom door. Maybe even have noticed it instead of being too buried in your blanket, shivering underneath, and missed it.

You didn’t miss the sagging of your bed as a weight was placed on it. But you didn’t turn around. It had to be Michael and feeling him so close finally, knowing he came to you, made you yearn for him in hope that you would be forgiven. That you could finally enjoy your time together, even if you guys had no way of doing anything else but being in your apartment for who knew how long. That you wouldn’t be cold and lonely anymore.

But you were sheepish, after everything and a little prideful, still hurt at how he talked to you and froze you out hours before, to want to make the first move. Even if the urge to throw your arms around him physically hurt to resist. Honestly, your resolve was thin and breaking fast. Who cared about pride when you knew you had been equally rude right back to him. You wanted to apologize, you knew neither of you had been in the right.

And you felt the words right at the tip of your tongue, were already moving your blanket to turn around and finally face your silent boyfriend, probably equally conflicted as you were (perhaps more with how much he was unused to apologizing). But his voice beat you to the punch.

“Are you cold?” His voice was softer than you would have expected, especially after how harsh his tone had been previously.

You turned around quickly, coming face to face with him sitting beside you. His gaze was on the bed, however. It was awkward but after everything, the fact that he was trying meant a lot. Even when both of you knew that you weren’t an angel in this either.

Nodding slowly, you watched as he laid down. Lifting the blanket from your body, he slipped under it himself. Holding the other side up for you to move closer to him. Which you complied with, silently. You moved until your head was on his chest and his arm was around you, keeping you there. You could hear his heart beat.

Just like you expected, in his arms and under the blanket, you couldn’t feel the cold you had been battling all day. The snow still falling through your window, the empty streets and dangerous ice on the ground were forgotten. You felt like you were in a cozy bubble. You were grateful and finally felt comfortable. Oh, how you wished that’s how it had been all day. Instead of the tense iceberg it had been.

Both of you were in silence, too in your heads to say anything. You wished you could just blurt out the apology already at your lips. But too senselessly embarrassed to do so. How could you say anything after all you had already said throughout the day, how you had acted?

But you didn’t have to. You heard his voice. “I’m…I didn’t mean to talk to you like that. I’m sorry.”

Relief flooded you. He wasn’t mad at you anymore. “I’m sorry too.”

You reached out, touching his arm. It somehow made you feel better that he was just as cold to the touch as you were. Neither of you could find the warmth you needed without each other. Who knew how much time he spent stewing on the couch, just as miserable, cold and lonely as you were. “I shouldn’t have expected you to go out in the middle of a snow storm. It was stupid, I…you were right. I shouldn’t have said everything I did either.”

He paused for a second before pulling you closer, breathing in your scent. “Missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it. You barely looked twice at me.” Your voice sounded a lot more tearful than you wanted it to sound but what was the point in hiding your hurt. You could have been nicer but he treated you like little less than a nuisance.

“I don’t know how to act when I’m frustrated. I’m used to…letting out my anger with others.” He admitted. Maybe things would have turned out differently if he actually used his words to speak out what he was thinking, smoothed everything out. But instead, he let them go on silently in his mind. Leaving you feeling rejected and unwanted. Until it was too late and he was denied even your presence as you moved yourself to your room, making sure the door separated the both of you. “But I did. Miss you. Even if I looked like I wasn’t paying attention to you.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Sitting alone on the couch, feeling like an idiot.” His eyes were closed as if he was savoring the moment he was having with you right then after a day full of torture.

“I hate being mad at you.” You played with the hem of his sleeve. “And it was so cold.”

You didn’t need to tell him. He was well aware of it every time he felt the innate urge to take you up in his arms. Even after how biting he had been towards you because he could never really be mad at you for long and if he seemed like he could, it was merely habit. But yet, you weren’t there. You were in your dark room to get away from him. And he felt stupid for forcing you away and depriving himself of the time alone with you he loved so deeply. Especially when the alternative was so lonely.

“We couldn’t even enjoy the snow day together.” You pouted.

“The snow doesn’t look like it’s letting up any time soon.” He pulled the blanket further up, only resulting in covering you entirely underneath which you giggled at. He couldn’t hold back the smile at your playfulness. He missed that noise all day. “We’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

#5sos #Michael clifford #Michael clifford x reader #5sos fluff #Michael clifford fluff #bad boy michael #bad boy fluff #5sos imagines #college au

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mc-critical · 3 years

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your analysis of selim? i think he's hated way more than he deserves. hating him for valid reasons is fine but telling that he's gonna be such a bad sultan is really stupid [and especially because only now do they bring out history & say selim was bad which is historically inaccurate as well]. out of all of suleyman's sons, it was only mustafa who was loved by all & talented [show only cuz apparently mehmet was also extremely talented & selim wasn't a bad sultan] enough for the throne. bayezid was extremely hotheaded and you can't tell me that a prince who can't control his emotions, especially in front of state officials, will be a good sultan. everyone tells selim was extremely selfish & the instigator of all their fights, when they were younger & older. siblings are always like that?? mustafa obviously wasn't like that because he was way older than mehmet, mihrimah, selim, bayezid & cihangir to get into stupid fights w/ them. mehmet & mihrimah had frequent & annoying arguments because they were closer in age. selim & bayezid had frequent fights because they were closer in age. this is a thing with many siblings; the elder provoking the younger & the younger disrespecting the elder. why do people point out their sibling fights as evidence for selim's personality? i feel sorry for bayezid as a kid but i feel less remorse for him as he's older. i don't say he deserves execution, especially at the hands of his own father, but he did rebel against his father's order & then proceeded to flee to another empire; like, the punishment for that is execution, what did he expect after rebelling? i feel extremely sorry for all his sons though, they didn't deserve this fate when they were just victims of their father's rebellion. also, unpopular opinion but bayezid is lowkey overrated pls don't cancel me i love him but he's annoying at times like all characters & no one really acknowledges it back to selim, he was honestly very underrated. he was really slandered in the series and he didn't have any real support w/ him until nurbanu & sokollu. although hurrem did vouch for him to go to manisa, it was literally only because he was 'peaceful' [we can read that as untalented as well] and no harm would reach him because he wasn't a threat [i actually really liked this plan of hurrem's, tough & clever; only if she was actually supported in this]. even mihrimah, till the end, is quite unfair to him. he had a problem w/ alcohol & people telling him to just stop? like, it doesn't work that way? people have to suffer so much in order to stop their addictions & they're actually restricted from their addictions; selim was a prince, no one around him could restrict him [his parents could but they weren't w/ him in his provinces]. he did become politically active w/ nurbanu's growing ambitions & he took smarter, more cunning & dirtier measures than bayezid to win the throne. the battle for the throne was bloody; resorting to honour like mustafa did was obviously not the best decision & people insult selim for being cunning enough [or being influenced by cunning people] to win the throne. let's also keep in mind that selim didn't even have much of an interest for the throne until manisa & nurbanu. i also like his relationship w/ nurbanu. it paralleled suleyman & hurrem's w/ the concubine arcs but selim did end up being monogamous to her in the show. their chemistry was fantastic [props to engin & merve for their acting] and although i don't really enjoy the 'a woman makes a man strong & influences him in everything; good or evil' kind of take, i did enjoy their relationship [he also sometimes looked at her like she was this ethereal type miracle, appropriately so w/ her courage]. i like what the show did w/ bayezid's execution a lot, the whole scene was such a wonderful cinematic experience; the music, bayezid's agonizing screams, his sons falling one by one, selim crying because he didn't want it to end up this way, bayezid falling & his screams ceasing, selim's heartbroken face because he was always a soft person & he always loved bayezid;

ahh, what a scene, so much love for it. anyway, that's just my opinion; i think he's hated way more than he deserves, especially in comparison to other characters & he's actually one of my most favourite characters from s4 [but i honestly love all characters w/ their good & bad, mc has many complex characters & i live for it]. what do you think about selim? sorry if you got annoyed at the long ask, i can get really heated when talking about selim [especially in reference to his historical figure], hope you don't mind if❤ [if it is annoying i'll stop it]

(okay, I'll talk strictly about the show, since I don't feel like delving deep into historical waters. There is still stuff we don't know for sure and I do want to keep the line between show and history in my head, except for the similar themes.)

While he isn't particularly my favorite character, I appreciate MC Selim and he is a very interesting subject when it comes to analyzing him. I'm actually amazed with what the show did with him in the span of a season (and something, counting some S02B and S03B moments) - he was one of the most fleshed out characters in S04 and we could get a clear picture as to why he does what he does.

Some people consider his debut to be an insult, for it immediately showed some of his weaknesses, putting him in a bad light right out of the gate. But all I can see in this debut is a showcase of his predicament of the prince no one sees as a capable heir of the throne. It’s as if he sleeps with women and drinks as a coping mechanism he’s delved into, with Mihrimah having to do effort to snap him out of it. The Selim we see in the beginning of S04 is a hopeless person. He doesn’t have dreams and ambitions, it’s as if he’s a already a lost cause and he has no one to truly support him. Even Hürrem wanted to send him to Manisa not because she deemed him as worthy, but to use him as a shield in order to deceive her enemies and protect the actual favorite. That may seem like a clever plan, but in actuality, it failed spectacularly - not only did her enemies not get confused for a second and didn’t attack Selim at all, but she forgot to tell Bayezid why she did it and made Selim confused to the point of demotivation, because none of his brothers were truly happy with this decision and they were all opposing it, directly and indirectly. And while he may not show it that much, because of his more composed and pragmatic nature, Selim is sensitive to the opinions of his brothers and the people around him and their prevailing disapproval may be a part of why he became so different than the rest. It’s like no one wanted to get to know him.

Nurbanu’s entrance in Selim’s life is very cathartic in this aspect, for she actually worked with him and gave him the needed motivation and ambition to fight, awaking sides of him that were dormant for a long time. And yes, I do think that Selim’s pragmatism is something he always had, if the whole arrow incident in S03B where he sabotaged Bayezid’s arrow, which caused him to lose is any indication.

{I don’t think that the quarrels Selim and Bayezid had when they were little are so much indicators of Selim’s personality as they are foreshadowing of their future conflict. Right, these quarrels are normal for siblings and Mehmet and Mihrimah also fought like that (heck, even little Mehmet and Mustafa had a fight once in S01 and that fight was used as the conflict of the remainder of that one episode), but they weren’t as frequent as the ones of Selim and Bayezid. I don’t know, it’s just the atmosphere of these scenes was different and hinted at something more. It could be because we know the historical events and we could see every tiniest bit of early sibling rivalry between them as build-up, but still, I always felt there just was something else. Like the whole arrow incident I mentioned, a presumably harmless little situation gains a whole other meaning later on. It sets up neatly Süleiman’s opinions of both of them (his reaction to apparent disobedience and the making of a scene by someone he doesn’t expect to, by which I mean Bayezid), Hürrem’s retroactive ignorance of a possible bigger enmity and the roots of the whole conflict. It’s not Selim deciding to sabotage Bayezid’s performance as a last resort, maybe knowing that he surely won’t do better than his brother (doing a pretty typical ,,prank’’ for a little, naughty kid) that is exemplary of his cunning later, it’s his validation and him getting away with it that eventually becomes it, just like how he ends up getting away with stuff in the next season. Selim definetly isn’t the instigator of all the fights, especially because Bayezid, thanks to his more impulsive nature, is much more likely to start a fight in the first place and contrasts to Selim’s overall better composure. Provokations among them were mutual and both were consistently throwing darts at each other, one after another. Their conflict is a very nuanced issue: while people try to play right and wrong, both sides were at fault one way or another. The conflict between them is mostly caused by insensitivity, favoritism and ignorance and the desperation of both to try to prove themselves to their parents and win their support, at the end of the day. Why did they always calm down in front of their mother? Not only because of their joint respect for her, but also because of these same attempts to earn her support. Even Bayezid, who obviously had to be sure of her support, wasn’t completely certain of it after Hurrem turned it on Selim for a while. Selim, on the other hand, obviously never felt her support, it’s like something was missing right from the start. Combine that with their completely opposing personalities and the whole system encouraging competition for the throne and there you have the inevitable ultimate conclusion. That’s why I also love the set-up, the pay-off and the aftermath of Bayezid’s execution. It may be historically inaccurate that Selim, not Süleiman, executed Bayezid, but when you think about it, it was the most logical thing that could’ve happened, ending their conflict with a heart-wrenching bow. I love the scene of the execution itself, too - the action, the dialogue, the direction, the character moments, the themes... I don’t know whether Selim loved Bayezid by that point, per say, after all they went through, but it was clear that he knew that he had to do it, that it couldn’t have ended any other way, but he was broken over it. He was aware that it was, ultimately, a sin, which would continue haunting him. He couldn’t catch a break afterwards, he couldn’t stop. All was solved, but at what cost?}

I love his dynamic with Nurbanu - they balanced each other off so well, their chemistry was amazing, such a power couple. Nurbanu’s biggest contribution is hiding some of his flaws and mobilizing him to fight. Her cold pragmatism ,,grounds’’ Selim’s softer side, she’s there to always remind him of the stakes of the game and to shut off the last ounces of his vulnerabilities after Hurrem died. He sure is influenced by her, but that doesn’t mean that he blindly takes her word for everything - he is always ready to call her out when necessary and assure her that there are lines she shouldn’t cross. Despite of her pleas, he kept having affairs with other women (that is honestly a trend with all the men of the show, but still..), he got mad at her after what happened to Huricihan and most notably, after he found out that she possibly stole his mother’s ring. A part of why their dynamic works so well is precisely this strenght of character and their awesome compatibility.

I have heard affirmations that Selim doesn’t care about Mustafa, which... simply isn’t true? While they have the least scenes together and Selim is the one that considers him most as a rival and his most dangerous competitor for the throne (which would explain his startled reaction after Musti saved him from the janissary), it’s precisely Mustafa’s death that is the turning point of his character arc. He was upping his game slowly but surely and before then, but he didn’t do much in terms of attacks. Neither Selim, nor Nurbanu once considered attacking Mustafa, the supposed biggest danger to them, which I find respectable and admirable. The bomb with the death drops and then every hope about a fair game is abandoned. Selim gets the realization that being honorable won’t work. The only way to win is bend the system and play dirty. There’s no time for sitting around or looking nice. And even though Nurbanu realized this, too, as well as Selim, Nurbanu was always more inclined to act this way than him and now the righteousness of her methods were only getting confirmed. It was Selim that had to reach this end. Discovering that he is no longer allowed to show any kind of weakness. Every chance that appears on the horizon, he’ll take it. That brings him to his first true dirty plan - the trap he set through the fake Mustafa rebellion.

Speaking of which, the worst deed of Selim’s for me is connected to that rebellion. I know I may be very biased in this regard, since it affects my personal favorite character and isn’t as recalled as others, but I hated when, in Selim and Sokollu’s attempts to wash their hands from the pulled off stunt, Sokollu, his man, told SS that Mahidevran was giving money to the rebellion. Okay, it’s not said outright whether is this directly tied to Selim or it was something Sokollu himself came up with out of desperation or something (though it was hinted that both thought something through in a scene where both were saying that they should come clean out of this all somehow) and it’s not outrightly confirmed whether Mahidevran gave the money or not (I highly doubt she did it; not only because it would destroy her whole S04 arc and she would become, well... MCK Gulbahar, but also because after the messenger told her of her alleged blame in E129, her eyes widened in surprise.), but all it does is be the only explicit case where Selim indeed looks bad, for his proposal to return Mahidevran in the castle doesn’t seem to stem from genuine guilt and remorse, but rather a late and empty attempt to placate his own conscience. Oh, not to mention (for the upteenth time, sorry in advance) how the scene back in E58 where Hurrem tells Mahidevran that her kids will be there taking care for her when she’s alone, which was treated as some big foreshadowing in the show, as well, by both the voice of the S02B narrative and the fandom alike, loses its value even more with that framing, because Selim and Sokollu themselves brought her to this state in the first place!!! Despite it making sense anyway, it’s still such a disservice to Selim as a person both inside and outside of the writing.

One aspect of Selim’s pragmatism I find most interesting is his ability to turn his enemies into allies, knowing exactly how to amass them and get them on his side, be it through giving them more money and promising them the world. These alliances are all opportunistic in nature and may not be as loyal as those of Mustafa’s or of Mustafa’s people (like Atmaca) with Bayezid, but I think Selim knows this and wants to keep them steady enough for the common goal. As for what kind of a padisah he’ll be.... I believe that state matters would be the least of his concerns, since he was shown to not care so much about them, compared to his other brothers (but then again, the show itself doesn’t put the political capability of the princes at center stage - their personal virtues are always the determining factor of what makes a good padisah and what doesn’t, more of a psychological outlook, if you will.) and he perhaps won’t plan as many campaigns or conquer as many territories, maybe he won’t be that successful at all, but his cunning would bring him advantage in front of his people, he will be at least a bit careful of who he’s choosing and won’t simply lose it in front of everyone, compared to Bayezid’s impulsive temper.

[I love Bayezid as a character, but the shadier aspects of his personality sure tend to be overlooked. While his anger is directed mainly at Selim and Suleiman, it often reaches such extremes to the point it becomes destructive and affects everyone. He doesn’t deserve his execution at all and most of his actions stem from a very sympathetic place, given how SS never truly gave him a chance and he went on the inevitable path, because he, just like Selim, realized that honor won’t work in this war, but took the opposite approach from Mustafa, direct rebellion. And predictably, both approaches didn’t work since Bayezid, too, was taken advantage of. While he didn’t get justice, the lead-up to his execution is a character arc of his and there are many reasons and events linking it all together and showing us why it took place the way it did.]

Selim’s dynamic with Suleiman is proof of how you can be presumably favored, but you have to work to get there. The reasons Suleiman favored him are very telling and sad and we see that he also doesn’t favor him because of any and all capabilities he may have, but because of his self-imposed distorted view of loyalty Selim has to do a lot to preserve, actually. He constantly has to make it so it looks like he’s loyal and obedient and doesn’t work behind his back. He doesn’t get the fullest appreciation from his father, as well, and I certainly feel it impacts him, in a way.

I agree that Mihrimah could be unfair to Selim. They weren’t that close and she had this open preference to Bayezid. Most annoyingly is when, in their confrontation in E139, which highlights even more their parallel sins, Mihrimah doesn’t seem to face that sin of hers when Selim calls her out on it. She has a reason to deeply resent him after what he did to Bayezid, but was offended when he reminded her of the crime she also committed. More solidarity on that front would be a bit better, at least a hint of like recognizing like even for a moment. (but maybe then her scene with Mahidevran later wouldn’t be as impactful? Huh.)

And lastly, about his drinking - Nurbanu tried to restrict him, but it’s true that such habits aren’t easy to give up on, especially knowing how his drinking is a coping mechanism as much as it is something he enjoys. He knows he shouldn’t do it, he’s told he shouldn’t do it, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t drink when he’s planning or scheming, but he keeps on doing it more and more with every problematic action of his. It’s an attempt to supress his otherwise strong conscience to the max, seeing how after his brother’s execution he apparently always took a drink when he was alone at night, fighting an inner conflict with himself. I don’t think there was a way he could stop doing it permanently in the show. It was a part of who he was, unfortunately or not.

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #sehzade selim #ask #mihrimah-sultan-can-rail-me

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shima-draws · 4 years

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FINALLY NEW OC TIME BABEY

The boy is Emrys, a prince from the Mirrorplane who is on the run from his own kingdom! The girl is Lacie, an orphan who was raised by a guild that rescued her from a somewhat abusive/manipulative friendship as a child!

More (incredibly long) info about these kiddos under the cut~

Emrys (or Em for short)

Age: 23

Hair color: Golden orange

Eye color: Red

Element: Lightning

Emrys is from the Mirrorplane, the parallel world to ATS. His kingdom is caught in a huge power struggle between all the other kingdoms, and Emrys’ mother, a queen who only seeks power from others, is leading them straight into ruin. Emrys is destined to receive the Crest of the Crowned, which is basically a huge emblem of power, as soon as he’s officially crowned as the king. Except that the queen plans to utilize the emblem’s power to start a grand war, which. Is not good!! The night Emrys finds this out, he plans to escape the kingdom along with his childhood best friend Lixin, a regular human who’s basically being used as a pawn to be married off to Emrys’ younger sister in order to create powerful elemental children. Yikes! Emrys is also engaged to a princess from another kingdom, but it’s an arranged marriage, and he doesn’t have feelings for her (so there’s another good reason for him to leave). Lixin is caught during his escape, and Emrys leaps to his rescue, but in the scuffle things get tense and he accidentally kills the guards sent after them. Hands stained with blood, Emrys stumbles into a portal leading to the other side of the Mirrorplane.

Emrys decides that he might as well stay there since he doesn’t know how to get home and he probably shouldn’t go home--he’ll be safer here, and this way his mother can’t use him to start a war. This goes alright for a couple months as he adapts to a world that isn’t constantly fighting with each other, until he realizes that his mother somehow sent people to come look for him and capture him so he can be dragged back home. He also hears word that Lixin is in this world as well. Emrys goes on the run, never sticking around one place for long, and tries to search for Lixin along the way. This is when he meets Lacie!

Personality traits

• Has a hard time trusting people in general. Refuses to get close to people in fear of them getting hurt. Because he's on the run and is a target he tries to keep to himself. A very lone wolf type. Doesn't want other people to get dragged into his problems so he tries to handle everything alone

• Very quiet, observant, INCREDIBLY intelligent--gets really absorbed in books when given the chance. One of the few times his facade falls and he gets Soft and passionate is when he's immersed in reading/studying. Loves absorbing knowledge from this world since it’s different from the Mirrorplane

• Makes scathing remarks often. Doesn't get riled up even when people tempt him. Is able to keep a very cool head most of the time. When he does get angry he gets STUBBORN. Refuses to let people try to talk to him or calm him down. Brushes people off and ignores attempts at support

• You know that he trusts you when he teases you or pokes fun at you

• Very wary. Always keeps an eye out for an escape route

• Careful around people. Knows his strength so he tries not to hurt others

• Deep down tho he's utterly selfless, unbelievably loyal to the people he cares about, and is a truly kind and generous person. He would sacrifice anything, even himself, to keep his friends safe, and beats himself up constantly if one of them gets hurt. Once he learns to open himself up to others he becomes Tender and is able to express himself easier. He's truly a gentle person at heart

• Is awful at romance because he has no experience (even being engaged) and gets flustered easily when it comes to anything with romantic intent. This is like the one thing he has zero confidence in. Lacie usually has to take charge in this department because he’s too hesitant and nervous to figure anything out himself, so he tends to follow her lead, which sometimes leads to disaster but they figure things out one step at a time!

• Was attracted to Lacie immediately but didn’t want to get close to her bc he knew she’d get hurt because of him. WELP

• Develops a huge guilt complex after Lacie loses her arm

Elemental abilities

Lightning elemental: Uses a thin sword/rapier to fight. Is VERY fast and agile. Usually starts by hitting pressure points and jolting them with electricity to numb the nerves. Doesn’t really like using his lightning directly so he tries to stick to the rapier as often as possible

He’s not a huge fan of fighting so he’d rather avoid conflict if necessary (especially after he killed someone on accident before). However he should not be underestimated in battle--he’s been trained how to fight from a young age so he knows what he’s doing. He uses a lot of tactics and smarts to get himself out of sticky situations

Lacie

Age: 21

Hair color: Gray/silver

Eye color: Brown

Element: Metal

Lacie’s parents died when she was very young, so she was sent to an orphanage shortly after. Her parents were bandits, labeled as outlaws, so a lot of the kids teased her and ostracized her. This caused her to hold a grudge against both them and her parents, even though they’d only resorted to thievery to provide for her and themselves. There was, however, one person who reached out to her there--an older girl named Gwendolyn. Gwen was very standoffish and didn’t care what the other children thought of her. She was the first person to treat Lacie normally, so Lacie grew attached to her. However, Gwen used Lacie and treated her as a tool to do what she wanted, but Lacie, too terrified of losing the only ‘friend’ she had, never spoke up about it. Gwen did care about Lacie, and there was a genuine friendship there, but that was overshadowed of her tendency to manipulate Lacie.

Gwen eventually hatched a plan to escape the orphanage and strike out on their own. Lacie agreed and together they snuck out in the middle of the night. (Sounds familiar? Wow, parallels!) The next day, Gwen tried to steal from a person in town, which ended up being a member of the guild nearby. Gwen managed to get to Lacie before getting caught and shoved the stolen items onto her, making her a target. Lacie realized how awful this was and finally gathered the courage to yell at Gwen. The guild member caught up, saw their interaction, and took Gwen in for questioning. He escorted Lacie to the guild, where she was pretty much adopted by the members.

Lacie grew up with the guild and learned compassion and how to forgive her parents. As an adult she’s a very kind, friendly and confident person. She is still burdened by her past but she tries not to let it get to her.

Personality traits

• Not the most polite person since she doesn't really have a filter

• VERY curious. Somewhat naive. Asks a lot of bugging questions if she doesn't know something

• Hot-headed and stubborn. Gets riled up easily, but can control herself when she's angry. Argues a lot but isn't fond of it

• In reality, a very kind person who cares for her friends and would do anything to protect her family. Spirited and determined

• Can be kind of silly, especially when she's trying to cheer others up. Emrys finds her amusing and calls her a dork

• A leader type character...one that can take charge of the situation when everybody else is losing their heads

• Willing to step out of her comfort zone and dive into new adventures without hesitation. She lives for the thrill. Is spontaneous and willing to take risks/chances. Drags Emrys into her fun a lot bc he’s so sheltered as a prince lmao

• Self confident on the outside, insecure in reality (a lot of this comes from the emotional abuse she went through as a kid). But not enough that it's crushing--just enough to make her second guess things sometimes, ESPECIALLY when it comes to Emrys because he's a rubix cube of emotions and she's always afraid of overstepping her boundaries--this is only when she finds out more about him tho. She doesn't mind being an ass to him when they first met because he’s kind of a jerk so her first instinct is to lash out at him

• Isn't necessarily a rule breaker until it's brought up, and then she gets excited about doing daring things. Is almost too enthusiastic about it sometimes

Elemental abilities

Metal elemental: Uses throwing knives infused with magic to fight. Being a metal elemental, she’s able to control their trajectory and can toss them around and have them zip right back to her like boomerangs. She mostly uses these to unbalance enemies and strike them hard enough that they get too dizzy to stand. After she loses her arm, she also utilizes the metal it’s made out of to temporarily transform it into usable weapons.

She’s fine with fighting and is hasty enough to throw herself into battle without thinking, but is fine with peace talks most of the time.

AND NOW onto how these two cuties meet ;)

If it weren’t obvious by now Emrys is a loner and therefore hates guilds and being associated with them. So naturally, after running into Lacie, he treats her with a lot of attitude and snark, which she retaliates against. After Lacie helps him chase off a couple thugs that he stole stolen goods back from (not the people actually chasing him), she somehow coerces him into the guild for a couple days, and he’s unsettled yet warmed by the friendly atmosphere. Emrys eventually admits he has to stick around town for a while to make some money, so Lacie offers to help him out by going out on official guild missions. Emrys is like I don’t need or want your help and she’s like alright fine then try making money on your own, guild missions pay WAY better and you can’t do one without an official member escort. So he’s like. Jesus fine okay I’ll go on the damn mission with you LOL

They go on a couple missions together and start getting close. Emrys is like oh no this is not what I want so he panics and tries to leave town, but Lacie catches up to him and yells him for leaving without saying anything. Unfortunately during this whole mess the trackers sent to follow Emrys find out where he’s hiding. He and Lacie go out on one last goodbye mission together and they get ambushed. They’re horribly outnumbered and even when Emrys resorts to actually fighting his hardest, Lacie gets terribly injured. Emrys manages to fight off the attackers, getting his hair cut off shorter in the process (which is why it’s shorter and in a cute little half bun in the second pic), but Lacie’s losing so much blood at this point--so he stumbles into the closest building in the closest town and GUESS WHO’S IT IS.

YEAH. IT’S THE ROBO FAM!! (Take note that this is like, 2-3 years after they return from the Mirrorplane themselves, so they’re around 25 at this point.)

Elias and Gifre are enjoying a nice evening prosthetic check date when Emrys stumbles into the mechanic shop, covered in Lacie’s blood, and begs for help before passing out. Both of them go OH SHIT and immediately leap to the rescue. As Elias, Gi-bot, Ava and Ignis (who were called in) work on patching up Lacie’s wounds, Elias realizes that her arm is too far gone to be saved. And this is kind of a sad moment for him since you know. He also lost his arm. So he can relate. Ava’s like you’ll just have to make her the best goddamn prosthetic in the world then and he’s like alright yeah, so they have to remove Lacie’s left arm and it’s. Not pretty.

Emrys wakes up several hours later to find that Gifre treated his wounds. When he asks where Lacie is and Gifre shows him, he immediately breaks down, because she got hurt SO badly because of him and this is why he didn’t want to get close to her in the first place. He laments over dragging her into his mess, and Gifre gives him a nice long Pep Talk, coming from a similar situation with dragging Elias into his personal issues with Python’s Blood. It helps a little, but Gifre can tell Em’s gonna be blaming himself for this for a WHILE (hence the guilt complex comment).

As Lacie recovers and gets used to her new prosthetic (and keeps smacking Emrys whenever he looks guilty about it), the two of them become closer despite Emrys’ attempts not to--but Lacie is stubborn and refuses to let him distance himself. They also get really close and bond a lot with the robo fam, having bunked with them for a while. The main part of the story is just these domesticity moments with the robo fam and their two new dysfunctional houseguests LOL

Eventually Emrys does find Lixin and decides to return to the Mirrorplane to sort things out with his mother, and that brings up a whole bunch of crazy drama, but the robo fam and Lacie come with him (and by that point he’s gone Full Tender and leans on them a lot for support so it’s NICE and CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT), so things get sorted out one way or another. There is a point where he and Lacie have a huge fight because Lacie...finds out something about the Mirrorplane that she does not like, and it nearly shatters her entire relationship with Em, so that’s a big oof. But they get it all sorted out and it’s fine. The reason why their fight hurts even worse is because at this point they’re full on in love with each other but are both too awful at romance to actually say anything. They’re stupid and they can’t communicate and I love them

Yes they end up together because *points at self* I’m a hopeless romantic loser. Lacie becomes a princess of the Mirrorplane which is WEIRD as hell to her but she gets used to it. Also they actually don’t stay there, Emrys hands the kingdom over to his younger sister, who’s always been better at handling royal affairs, and comes back to the regular verse with Lacie to live with her there. They get a house in Spinel Town near the robo fam and LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER THE END

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years

Note

How’ve you never been a Draco anti? Just cause he was a teenager doesn’t mean he had the right to make disgusting racist comments and do other ignorant shit. Age is just a number. I don’t mean that in a creepy sexualising way or anything but there’s never an age where it’s okay or acceptable to be racist and just be a terrible person overall. Sorry I’m all for respecting opinions and whatever but I really can’t comprehend how you apparently didn’t go anti for him. You called him insufferable in the Malfoy TLSQ but that wasn’t even him at his worst 😒

(Going under the cut, this became a #LongPost)

Did I say that? I don't doubt it but I have no memory of this and I don't really think I'd agree with that description anyway. Because he really wasn't insufferable during that quest, you're right. He was pretty spoiled for sure, and if anything I was pleased to see that side of him which the films could occasionally downplay. Like, don't get me wrong, Jason Isaacs is amazing, but he has specifically talked about his motivation during interviews, how he wanted to build sympathy for Draco by being such a cruel father. Which is just...not the kind of dynamic Lucius and Draco had, and I've talked about this before, but Lucius abusing Draco is just very out-of-character if you ask me. It's also the secret backstory of every cheesy Draco redemption fanfic ever and by no means is that limited to his character, but he's a prominent example of the trope. Ben Solo is another.

As far as the books go, Draco is another character like Snape where he gets downplayed. In the early books, he was such a pain in the ass, but I never took him seriously as a threat even as a child. I knew enough about bullying to recognize how small he felt on the inside. In no way does this make it okay for him to behave the way he does in books 1-5, I'm just saying that he was scarcely a character that I would even argue earned the title of "villain." He was Harry's school rival. The worst thing he did, by far, was the entire framing of Buckbeak. Painting this narrative of him being the innocent victim of a savage monster, with Hagrid as the negligent fool who let it happen. Draco felt humiliated and wanted revenge, and he saw an opportunity to try and get Hagrid fired. And amazingly, despite an entire classroom of witnesses who can verify that Hagrid did everything by the books and that Draco's own arrogance got him just a minor scratch....he is still, even next year, telling people like Rita Skeeter about the Hippopriff attack. How is he getting away with that? Well, I say this, and then I remember that the man behind the "Anti Vaccine" study had his license revoked after it was debunked and yet he continued to give lectures about the dangers of vaccines...

Boy, I'm getting off topic. Draco's character just doesn't bother me that much because I don't take him seriously. The Buckbeak Incident was his worst moment by far, but he remains a stagnant character for the first five books. And god damn, how can I not empathize with him starting in Half Blood Prince? Voldemort selects him for a mission that he fully expects to result in his death, all to punish Lucius. It is made very clear to Draco that he must murder his school Headmaster, Albus freaking Dumbledore. I have already on many occasions, documented how much this world reveres him as an all powerful, omniscient force of nature. I doubt I need to reiterate just how daunting and impossible this task would and did start to feel for Draco. But the consequences for failure were plainly stated. Either Dumbledore had to die, or Draco and his parents would die. He was all of sixteen years old, and he was cornered by Voldemort, when his family was already deeply involved with the Death Eaters.

I hold nothing against Draco for any choice he made in HBP. What was he supposed to do? He was trapped. He had no reason to trust Snape or Dumbledore, and they were probably his only lifelines. Even if he had managed to escape Voldemort, his parents would still have been in danger. Dumbledore offers them protection up in the Astronomy Tower, but how does Draco know he's telling the truth? How does he know that to be a promise that Dumbledore can keep? In the end, he couldn't do it. He didn't have it in him to take Dumbledore's life. Despite all that pressure on him. I think that means something. The stress of trying to carry out the mission was making him physically ill. Oh, and this was the year that Harry hit him with Secumsempra. Probably the stupidest thing Harry ever did, and I'd say it leaves them even for Ron and the poisoned mead, however indirectly. After Snape kills Dumbledore, Draco just tries to keep his head down. All he can do is nod or shake his head whenever Voldemort addresses him at Death Eater meetings.

When The Golden Trio is captured and taken to Malfoy Manor...Draco's fear, and his growing moral conflict, show themselves again. He cannot commit to identifying Harry, even though we're meant to assume he knew damn well that it was Harry. Now, sure. You can argue that he wanted to wait and be absolutely sure before they went as far as summoning Voldemort. Or you can argue that he just didn't want Voldemort to show up because he was frightened of him. I think that's more likely. Because Harry under a stinging hex is one thing, but Hermione? When asked if Hermione was who they thought she was, he once again gives an evasive "Yeah, it could be." Like it's not clear as day. Draco flip-flops a lot during Deathly Hallows. He does try to capture Harry during the Battle of Hogwarts...and a childhood best friend dies before his very eyes. Ultimately, Harry's choice to save Draco winds up being a positive inversion of his choice to save Wormtail. Saving Wormtail guaranteed Voldemort's return. Saving Draco, on the other hand, ensured Narcissa's cooperation, and thus, it bought enough time for Neville to kill Nagini, and doom Voldemort once and for all. Harry saving Draco made all the difference.

In canon, Draco is little more than a sleazy coward. His story echoes that of Regulus, and sometimes I like to imagine what it would be like if he had taken on a more heroic role toward the end and had a more complete redemption. That said, I don't strictly speaking, mind that he didn't. I love the image of the Malfoys just huddled together after the battle, unsure if they're welcome or not, but no one is actually sparing them a thought. I also like final shot of them in the film, where they just up and leave. That works for them. There was apparently a cut scene where Draco was supposed to throw Harry his wand and properly defect...and while that would have been pretty cool, again: He didn't need a full redemption necessarily. The books kind of ran out of time, especially since there was no eighth year. Draco was not emotionally ready to do the right thing. But he had learned enough about himself and the world to know that he was uncomfortable doing the wrong thing. It's easy to parrot the slurs you're taught from the cradle, but as you get older and are expected to start participating in hate crimes and things of the like...you might begin to realize just how fucked up it all is. Even if the realization is slow. Even if you're not brave enough to take a stand.

TL;DR: Early books Draco is annoying, but no more so than a fly. I just kind of brush him off. Late books Draco is actually a very compelling character and he has my sympathy.

#Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Harry Potter Analysis #Lucius Malfoy #Narcissa Malfoy #Lord Voldemort #Harry Potter Books #Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince #Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

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the-wintershade · 3 years

Text

in another life (I surely was there)

pairing: loki x reader summary: he wants to create a new world and he needs you -- loves you, but love is corrupt and he fails to realize the corrosiveness of his affections. wc: 3.1k+ genre: slightly angsty, dark, unhealthy desires, villian!loki

The first thing he learns is there is always darkness in the dawn.

Thrown onto the ground after portaling to Joutenheim, he cowers in the face of danger and death but swallows the unnecessary emotions with a pearly grin. There’s nothing that grin can’t repair, can’t magically fix.

They speak, the giant’s red stare burning holes in Loki’s perfectly concocted excuse. He bites back his unrestrainable irritation and partial embarrassment and continues with the facade hoping that they’ll grant his true desire.

….

He watches it in your face.

Your eyes zone onto his and he feels the anger, hurt, disappointment vibrating in the air around you — even if you are several feet in front of him. Your chest heaves, blood stains your brow crimson, and your eyes curl with darkness, conjuring every hateful emotion available to you.

But you smile at him, lips painted red. And it’s the smile that frightens him the most.

It’s not a smile of joy like he’s used to, but a smile with the promise of retribution, with the inkling of death and the promise of a deep, chilling anguish.

He knows he shouldn’t have left. And you turn away from him, throwing yourself back into the slaughter, defending the innocent while he watches, rooted in place, afraid — not by you but for you.

…

You ignore him.

Even when beaten to a pulp and unable to lift a leg muscle, you refuse his help. It is the captain who carries you to the safety of the jet as you cling to consciousness.

He feels how desperately you sway between life and death and hovers around, wanting to fight the man of black with a sharpened scythe. He can’t take you away, you still have sinners to punish, breakers of justice and righteousness to cleanse.

Your work here can’t be done. It’s barely begun.

He watched you go into the fray, punching wildly, impacts of limbs constantly striking you, repeatedly, without stopping. He would have stepped in if you hadn’t been so, so—

Your eyes peel themselves open and a moan escapes your mouth and it’s like he’s breathing again for the first time. They don’t stay open long enough; he needs to feel that wrath inducing stare pin down. But he can relax. You’ll pull through, he’s sure of that.

….

He finds out quickly that everything won’t go back to normal with flowers...or chocolate...or a gem refined by the dwarfs.

Nothing brings you back to him and he eats every present he brings you with no eye contact, no acknowledgement, and no indication that you’re aware he’s here.

He feels hollow, invisible, a ghost to forever haunt an unbeliever.

Bandages nearly obscure your face and now he feels horrible for leaving you and the others to fight the demon spawns of some alien race. He may have made a terrible mistake there but he couldn’t comprehend how you could ignore him so well.

He couldn’t understand how you frosted over in one day and now you were an impenetrable block of ice that no amount of warmth and care and heat he produced, you wouldn’t crack.

He was supposed to be the heartless one, not you. This was wrong.

…

“Why are you avoiding me? Why are you trying so hard to be as far away as possible?” He breaks the tension in the air, splitting the unspoken rule of silence established when it was just the two of you in a room.

It wasn’t like him to talk about motivations or ideas behind doing things. It wasn’t like him to bring up conflict. He was doing a lot of things he wasn’t used to doing now.

You glared. There was nothing in your eyes that gave the inkling of a promised answer.

He took two steps forward and you crossed to the other side of the room.

He felt it then. The split, the divide, the chasm that had opened between the two of you.

You wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. And he was still holding onto who you used to be. Both stuck in limbo. Both trapped in each other.

Instead of saying anything, you exited the room and Loki just stopped and stared. Maybe it’s time to give up. Maybe it’s time to let go.

…

You fall through the air.

And you smile.

That’s the first thing he finds strange. The second is your obvious lack of concern for your own safety. Because you used to warn him all the time to protect himself and be careful, always with a hidden undercurrent in your words.

Loki wasn’t good at emotional attachment so he brushed away your warm eyes, easy to fall into, and did whatever.

Now he feels what you must have felt when he was being reckless. Uncertainty. Fear.

The wind whips your hair and Loki only hesitates a second in horror before catching you and teleporting you to solid ground with him.

He holds you firmly, but you still refuse to pay him any mind. “Don’t—“ he breathes raggedly, as if he’d run a mile in the past few seconds. “Don’t ever do that again.”

He watches you fragment. The walls you’ve carefully built fall for a moment and only a moment before those soft, open eyes shift into a predatory, hateful gaze.

You shake out of his arms and weave out of his reach. “You should have let me fall.” You toss over the back of your shoulder and it’s the first time Loki can remember the echoing staccato of hurt.

…

He doesn’t leave. Not this time. Not even when the whole team is beaten senseless.

Not even when his skin is turning all shades of black and blue and his legs crumple under the strain. Not even when this battle is going so far left that he’s certain that you’ll all be overrun.

He bites back the bile worming its way through his throat and cuts down another monster, a twisted creation he likely had some involvement in sending there. His fingers ache from gripping harder than necessary on the handle of his knife. He lets them flex, breathing against the tight cage he forced them into.

He’d missed it. It was too late for any reaction as it sunk into his abdomen.

He couldn’t scream. Oh no. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a whimper or a plea for forgiveness. He was already light years past that now.

Besides the quick response of his limbs that move on their own to drive his weapon down to the hilt into their throat, the pain is still there. Blooming. Spreading faster than he anticipated.

The monster had gotten him good. Better than he could have done while he was paying attention to you.

You were like Tyr himself, a devastating figure of little remorse and brute strength. He knew what that power could do to a person. Its fuel lies in the deep recesses of the mind, midnight ebony and bloodstained red colliding to produce a substance of deep scorching pain. Yours spilled right out of you; it was like he could see it. Like it had a tangible shape, a shadow that clung to you, echoing your movements like a spectral warrior.

And it was impressive and so out of character for you.

Loki was awed by you once again and that awe led to his own demise. Figures.

He’s not bitter about it all, hitting the ground, watching vermillion soak his clothes and bury into the earth. He’s not devastated that his one true wish might not be fulfilled.

He’s thankful. For the first time in his life, he’s grateful to watch you become the force he knew you always could be.

He’s just sorry that he might have been the catalyst for such change.

…

“Loki.” Your face contorts in determination and a firm pleading. “Loki, can you hear me?” He would have thought this was the afterlife, the final test, the final trial to make everything right before he would inevitably be sent to hell. Then he saw the red smeared against the corner of your mouth and knew, oh, I’m still breathing.

He sees no traces of real concern on your face and his own falls at the absence. He just wishes he could make it all right. That he could change that stupid wish he’d made so many weeks ago.

But he was bound.

There was nothing he could do to get out of it all. He’d be stuck until the plan was fulfilled.

“Don’t die, okay? Just-” He watches your face contort in a mixture of pain and anxiety. For the first time in a while, he believes that he may be able to peel the darkness back, beat his doubts and the voices in his head warning him that all this will be for nought.

But they always return, always creep along in the back of his mind, circling like one of Odin’s devout warriors, ravens ready to devour a meal.

He’ll lose you, one way or another.

And that terrifies him more than the blue skin and red eyes he knows he has. It scares him more than his brotherhood with the giants of old and their unnatural complexion — his unnatural appearance.

He’s doing this all for a reason, a purpose that he can see, but others can’t. He doesn’t fool himself that you’ll be able to see it too.

“Hold on.” Your words warm him. He doesn’t feel the sting of the cold when you’re near. He can trick himself and believe that he’s human, not the being of frost that hides beneath the pallor of his glamour.

And when your hand slips into his own, bolstering ice with flame, he breaks in two. He’ll lose you. He knows you’ll leave him too.

…

He can feel you there, right next to him in recovery. He’s well aware of the scorn that the members of earth’s defenders have given you.

He almost wishes that you would run away from him, cast him off like everyone else does. But a bigger part is thankful that you stayed, even if it’s selfish, even if the end will be bitter.

Your hand is right there next to him. It lies limp on the bed, your head lolled to the side in your slumber. His hand crosses the space separating you from physical contact and grasps your hand in his.

You stir, eyes blurry and dark, waiting, coiled and ready to spring. Gently, he brings your hand to his lips. He feels the darkness stir underneath and in a few days time, everything will fall into place.

He’s just sorry it had to be this way.

“I love you.” He’s not lying when he says it. He’s not saying it because it will win you over, not because he feels obligated to. He’s saying it because it’s the truth.

There’s no grin to hide behind, no smile to cover up a trick. Just him and you and the truth.

Your eyes widen but the guard is still there, the walls are still up. He notices the black splotches in your irises recede for just a moment and then the moment’s gone.

The Avengers think it’s a side effect of a monster bite and the black veins, spiderweb bruising, and your general temperament will return to normal. But it won’t. You’ll be consumed and if you don’t fight your way out, you could die.

But he doesn’t see that in your future.

You’re too strong.

Your eyes watch his, waiting for the trick, for the moment the cat is out of the bag. When you don’t see one, your hold on him tightens. The words never come out of your mouth and he’s not sure that you can fully reciprocate his words, but you feel something and it’s strong enough to keep you within reach.

He’s thankful that you’ll share this moment together, that maybe this memory won’t be soiled when the change happens.

…

You’re gone.

The change came a few days later and Hel was right there, as was originally discussed, ready to take you for when the time came, when the final days of asgard were in sight.

He flashed that charming smile at his sister and tired to bargain with her. He knew that not seeing you was apart of the plan, that for this to work in accordance with the frost giants he would have to avoid seeing you.

But that wasn’t enough for him. He was greedy, what could he say?

It’s why he was doing this all in the first place.

For the greed of power, of recognition, of the world paying attention to the insignificant brother next to the heir to the throne. It was for the world to forever know his name. He was greedy and selfish; he wouldn’t deny that.

But he was even more greedy when it comes to you. He didn’t want to let you go. He would fight, tooth and nail, to hold onto you.

But Hel, holding your almost completely corrupted figure from falling to the ground, refused. She said no.

You were her warrior now and you’d be a powerful force at that.

And then she sank into the underground, dragging you, her slave, down with her.

The hole in his chest grew that much larger and without trying to, he fell to the grass where you just stood, gripping it firmly in his fingers, feeling the gap between you grow that much larger.

…

It’s been years now. Odin is dead. Ragnorak has begun.

His face is bloody and he no longer hides who he is, no longer denies his true self from the world.

His skin is a deep cobalt and his eyes burn like rubies set ablaze. He runs with his brothers, no longer ashamed, no longer afraid of the wrath of the Asir. He’s free to burn down his false home as he chooses and Hel has brought her warriors.

The thought of you crossed his mind a few times, wondering where your face would be in the crowd, what powers you would have, how dark and twisted you might have become.

He still feels horrible, but it was for a purpose.

Somehow he hopes he’ll live long enough to see you again, when this is all over, when he’s able to explain everything.

…

“Loki?” He cradled your broken body against him, smoothing the hair and grime from your face. The black lines receded from your face and you were no longer a demon. Loki now looked like the frost giant he was. It was truth to truth, no cover ups or falsities. “Why did you abandon me?”

Abandon?

No, he didn’t abandon you. He helped you work towards a higher purpose. He endowed you with something greater.

“No, no. I didn’t abandon you, (name). I helped you. I made you something greater.” He watched your eyes unfocus and waited before you were able to speak again.

“You lied and corrupted and hurt me. You made me a monster who does horrible things. You dragged me into a war that had nothing to do with me.” You lolled your head over in his direction, the ebony lines weaving in and out of your pupils. “You killed me. My death is your fault.”

He almost dropped you. This was nonsense, slander. You couldn’t be serious. You had to see it his way now. This was necessary. The world was evil and abandones others, but he was there to make it right again.

The world needed a new world order. He was going to give it to them.

“No, (name).” He pulled you closer and gazed deeply into your eyes. “I love you. I want greatness for you. I need you here with me.”

You laughed, laughed harder than you should be able to while on the brink of death. Your hand came up to cup his cheek. “You were always the gullible brother.”

You transformed in front of his eyes and in your stead, Hel stared right back at him. “Like my little performance? I thought that your broken human would be a great way to fool you.”

She streaked against the ash on the ground and Loki stood up, watching her with malice. As he made a dash in her direction, he ran into a bubble, a forcefield of power locking him in. A cage. Another cursed cage.

“You didn’t really think that you’d come on top of this battle.” She smirked and then scoffed at the shock on his face. “You’re too weak brother. You’re too naive. You think you know everything when the person you should have been asking about death was me.” His eyes burned and stinged. “If you want to wipe the slate clean and rule this new world, at least pair with the right person to accomplish your goals. The frost giants never needed you; they needed me. I am going to rule this new world while you sit here in this prison for the rest of eternity.”

He slummed, defeated, tears of shame ready to coat his face. “Oh, and while we were on the subject of your precious little human, you should know that she was wonderful. So much potential, so much power and strength. It’s really a shame that she fell. I was fond of her.”

She smirked when he crumbled. “Tootles, darling.”

Waving, she walked away into the darkness, into death, what she lived and breathed, while Loki sat, in the remnants of Asgard, wondering how he could have thought that this was going to end up any differently.

And as he turned, he found you, sprawled on the ground, a hole in your chest, eyes staring right at him asking, how could you, how could you, how could you?

I love you, I love you, I love you.

…

100 years have passed and he still sits in this forgotten cage in a forgot era. He’s let out from time to time, completing one job or another, but he’s eventually locked up again, doomed to live a lonely existence.

He still sees that face. He still sees your eyes that used to shine.

Loki knew you were aware that he was up to something, that he’d betrayed you somehow, that your story and his were intertwined forever.

And then he sees the darkness take shape, how you’re taking risks you didn’t used to, how your nature changed.

He realized that’s love. That’s what it does to people. Love won’t save, love will corrupt. The name of love means nothing, trust means nothing, and he was foolish to think that you would understand.

But he would find another.

Maybe someone a little stronger, a little purer, and a little more in love with him. Maybe he’d find someone who understood and in the next 500 years, he’d be able to win this time.

Maybe the 6th attempt would be the charm.

a/n: hi, it’s been a while. I hope you’re taking care of yourself and taking the time you need.

I love you. It’s good to be back.

~Ruby

#wintershade #loki fanfic #loki fic #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki/reader #loki x reader #loki x you

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9bitghost · 5 years

Photo

REMEMBER THIS AU???

Took me 2 years, but I’ve finally got everyone’s designs roughed out for my RPG AU!! Some designs gave me a lot of trouble, so I’ll probably change a few in the future, but for now, they’re all based around their outfits in the show. Getting back into this has also got me more into learning about D&D, so classes and subclasses are based on stuff from there and homebrews I’ve found and liked, with some liberties taken for the fun of it. ☆

I want to write proper backstories for all of them sometime, but until then, classes, alignments, and headcanons are under the cut!! ↓ ↓ ↓ (VERY LONG)

This AU can be set either as its own, or if everyone sat down and played D&D with characters based on themselves. I would love to write fic splicing the two together if I ever get around to it lol

Character Info

David: Ranger/Bard - Champion of Nature (Lawful Good)

S4E7 pretty much laid out his character and class perfectly; David is a Bard at heart, and sought to make people happy with his tricks and performances when he was younger, until he found his true calling in his connection to Mother Nature. His home is wherever he can set up camp and has his heart set on protecting the forests’ natural beauty and integrity from quickly growing cities. Breaks into song at random and dislikes conflict. Prefers to shut fights down though talk and song, but does excel at archery and long-range combat if the need arises.

(tbh, binary-bird’s david design is so much cooler and i was heavily inspired by it, so please just imagine him in that one instead lol)

Gwen: Bard/Cleric - College of Lore (Chaotic Neutral)

In all honesty, Gwen is the most difficult one for me to place in this AU. She strikes me as the one to DM for the kids so Nerris can play, and enjoys creating stories for them, hence why Bard comes as the most natural to class her. An unconventional one, as she’s sharp-tongued, usually straight-faced, and witty in a sarcastic sense. Probably owns a bookshop in her town and writes many of her own books (half of which are erotica and stored in a curtained off area you need a password for). She has a way with words and handles her spear with the same proficiency. Badass fighter if you get on her bad side.

Max: Rogue - Thief/Trap Master (Chaotic Neutral)

Grew up poor and practically on the streets with barely a glance from his parents, Max learned it’s every person for themselves from an early age. Known for being a little shit and a master at picking pockets, MacGyvering traps, and winning bets through words alone. Shitton of knives, prefers throwing them from the shadows. Says he doesn’t care for anyone but himself, but would actually kill a man or 20 for his friends. Met Neil when trying to swindle him out of some expensive potions and wound up traveling with him. Purely for profit at first after hearing about the tech Neil’s in search of, but they ended up clicking and became fast friends (in denial).

Neil: Artificer - Alchemist (Lawful Neutral)

Neil’s family is very well off and many of his relatives are well known scholars; his father being the leading philosopher in their district. Though proud of his family’s and his own scientific accomplishments, Neil became bored of his mundane village and life, and thus set off in search of new scientific discoveries that could land him a place in the history books. Hates combat and stays out of it whenever he can. Sticks to the side lines, crafting bombs, poisons, splash potions, and buffs for the party. Relatively level-headed and often leads the team’s strategies in battle, until things go wild and sends him into a panic.

Nikki: Barbarian/Druid - Path of the Beast Master (Chaotic Good)

Born into a broken family, Nikki fled to the woods at a young age and lost her way home. Found and taken in by a pack of wolves, she quickly answered to the call of Mother Nature and grew into a nomadic lifestyle with her pack. Nikki is a wild one, brandishing her giant axe with ease, communicating with animals, and able to shift into a wolf form. Met Max and Neil as they were passing thorough her forest and nearly bit a chunk out of Neil’s arm on their first encounter. Would do anything for her friends and thinks of them as her own pack as she journeys with them.

Nerris: Sorceress - Storm Bloodline (Neutral Good)

Born to a human mother and elven father, Nerris is skilled in magic pertaining to the elements, specifically lightning and electricity, and not to shabby with their shortsword when the need arises. Left their village on a traditional journey to hone their skills and become a great sorceress to make their family proud. Always up for adventure, but rash and dives head first into more dangerous situations. Met and traveled with Harrison, who they bicker with constantly over who is the better magic user, before they both joined the Main Trio feat. David. Don’t mess with their party, man, Nerris will beat your ass into the neighbouring realm.

Harrison: Wizard - School of Illusions/Wild Mage (Chaotic Good)

Harrison was born with chaotic magic that had his parents on edge since the beginning. He quickly became a specialist in illusions, but due to his wild magic, he’d caused a lot of unintentional trouble in his town, escalating to making his brother disappear with no idea how to get him back. Fled his family and town young in pursuit of honing his magic and searching for a way to bring his brother back. Terrible at hand-to-hand, weapons, or close-range combat, but packs a punch when his magic goes haywire, often being linked to his emotions. Will sometimes levitate without realizing and freak people out. His hat is his nearly unlimited inventory and is probably a dangerous rip in space-time that should be dealt with.

Preston: Bard - College of Glamour (Lawful Neutral)

Preston travels around in search of fame and artistic inspiration and loves any audience he can find. Rarely staying in one place for long, he recites his poetry and one-man acts for captivated audiences in the town’s square or taverns, sometimes accompanied by lute or flute music. His outfits are flashy and as much of a trainwreck as he is so he’s easy to spot. In battle, his acts are usually used to stun or paralyze opponents, often done as a tag team with a more offensive member of the party. If forced to fight, he’s not too bad at fencing his way out of it.

Dolph: Bard - College of Paint (Neutral Good)

Born into a prestigious and proud military family that he left to pursue a career in art. Has painted quite a few nobles’ portraits and has thus become well known as a traveling painter. Became quick friends with Preston when they met in a town square Dolph was passing through. Hates conflict and tends to stay back in battle, but if he has to fight, he’s able to summon whatever he paints in ink to fight for him (think Sai from Naruto lol).

Ered: Rogue - Scout (Chaotic Neutral)

Daughter and assassin-in-training of her two fathers who work closely with their country’s monarchy. Though she loves them more than anything, Ered has more of a go-my-own-way attitude, opting to work more freely and alone for smaller contracts than under her parents’ wings. Amazing sharp-shooter with her crossbow and can hold her own in hand to hand combat. She’s a name quite a few know in underground circles, and Max has heard of her before as well.

Nurf: Barbarian - Path of the Brawler (Chaotic Neutral)

Half-orc and full temper, Nurf is a brawler through and through. On the run for various crimes and resents the justice system for putting his mother behind bars. Fights mainly with fists and daggers and is one of the strongest in the party. Actually quite perceptive and insightful, but whether he chooses to act upon that insight is entirely dependent on how he feels at that moment. Nurf joined the party a little later than the rest, after meeting them during an ongoing brawl and teaming up as a spur-of-the-moment decision. He stuck around for one reason or another.

Space Kid: Cleric - Cosmic Domain (True Neutral)

Space Kid comes from a line of astronomers and astrologists, and he too answers to the Stars and Celestial Bodies. Many of his decisions are based on what star charts tell him and he’s just happy to be along for the ride. Met the Main Trio early on during a quest relating to astrology and, realizing they lacked a designated healer for the team, found Space Kid to be decent enough. Probably has untapped powers that are pretty incredible if he knew how to access them. Sticks around due to the Stars hinting that their fates are tied and good things will come about in the party’s future.

Other Notes

I’ve gotten an ask or two in the past asking about Daniel and he is 1458903% a Lawful Evil Warlock/Bard who answers to his patron Xemüg. Quartermaster is also a Warlock, probably Chaotic Neutral, and I like the idea of his patron being The Octopus (thank you S4E5 for the harrison and QM inspiration).

#camp camp #campcamp #reposting this bc it wasn't showing up in the tag for me?? never posting from drafts again lol #it's been so long since i wrote semi-decently #it feels so clunky but at least it's FINALLY DOWN IN WORDS #i love how i predicted alchemist neil and barbarian nikki long before the quest ep aired LMAO #s: cc #au: cc dnd #art: charades #i still know jack about dnd so please don't yell at me that some stuff doesn't work or w/e

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blancheludis · 3 years

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@whumptober2021 Day 3: Taunting, Insults

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition Characters: Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull Tags: Assault, Mage-Templar Conflict, Self-Worth Issues, Hurt Dorian, Holy Smite, Protective Iron Bull Words: 3.484

Summary: Dorian can count on one hand the times he was hit by a Smite and it was always during training, leaving him shaky and sick the rest of the day. This feels so much worse, done out of malice, meant to cripple instead of teach.

“You were saying, mage?”

- A few Templars attack Dorian in Skyhold. Bull comes to the rescue.

---

It has gotten late. Dinner is already over and while there is faint music to be heard from the Herald’s Rest, the rest of Skyhold is eerily deserted. Dorian curses himself silently as he hurries through the dark corridors. He lost track of time in the library, which should not come as a surprise, really, but he knows better than to walk alone after dark.

He is not afraid. Dangers lurk around every corner, but he trusts in his ability to defend himself. The thing is, that he is not certain whether he should defend himself. The Tevinter Mage far from home, shrouded in mystery. People do not trust him here, but the reasons are so laughably threadbare. He is neither a blood mage nor does he want to overthrow any kingdoms.

“Mage,” a voice calls out, harsh but slightly too loud for the late hour.

Dorian hastens his step. He knows the distaste in the tone intimately, even if it is only since he left Tevinter that he learned it paired just as well with mage as it does with slave or son.

He keeps his head up, makes it look like he is not running away. Running never helps. While most of the soldiers here are cowards, some do like to hunt, and Dorian knows better than to give them a reason to.

“I’m talking to you.”

And Dorian is trying his best not to hear him. One of these days, he is going to accidentally incinerate a hapless Templar trying to waylay him. The uproar that will cause. Perhaps that will still better than this cat-and-mouse game that he always, always loses.

A hand grabs Dorian all of a sudden, appearing out of nowhere in the dark. Dorian, who was concentrating on the yelling man in his back has not been paying attention to what is ahead of him.

Another Templar. Even out of uniform they are unmistakeable. That fanatic fire in their eyes that burns brightest when Dorian is near. They like to leave their hands hovering over their hips, even when they are not wearing their swords, constantly following that urge to be ready, to cut down a mage, no questions asked.

“Is there something wrong with your ears, mage?” the Templar in front of him asks, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. Alcohol clouds his breath, almost as potent as hate.

“Nothing at all,” Dorian answers brightly, trying to tone down the sharpness of his voice. “Nobody was calling my name, though.”

He bites his tongue. So much for holding back. It is high time to get out of here before the stragglers reach them. But no matter how much he twists his arm, the Templar’s hold remains strong. He could put the man on his back, but mages are not allowed to defend themselves and he does not want all of Skyhold’s guards to be called down on him because these guys are screaming murder.

“You bloody ‘Vints, always thinking you’re better than us good folks.”

Dorian barely manages to keep his face from scrunching up, but some of his contempt must have slipped through anyway because the man’s scowl deepens. Definitely time to get out.

“Well, I better relieve you of my presence then. Wouldn’t want to ruin your night,” Dorian says and calls fire to his hands, not enough to burn but to warm his fingers in warning. To his dismay, the Templar’s grip only tightens and he pulls Dorian closer.

“The Inquisitor should have never let you in,” he snarls, his foul breath warm on Dorian’s cheek. “We’re trying to save the world, not break it.”

Unable to help himself, Dorian laughs. “Did you read that in one of Master Tethras’ novels? Mighty impressive, I didn’t think they wasted the energy on teaching war dogs to read.”

Dorian should shut up. The drunk guy behind him is coming closer, leaning on a friend’s shoulder. Three on one are not odds Dorian would think twice about in the field. Things are different here. Even drunk and clearly hoping for a fight, people will listen more closely to these three than Dorian.

He is just a mage, barely a friend of the Inquisitor, neither trusted nor even a real asset because who would want a necromancer in their back when they could have him dead and buried, safely sealed away. It grates at Dorian’s pride, but he has practice in being not wanted and sneered at. He does not think it will ever stop hurting but that does not mean he will let them see.

Dorian twists his hand, determined to scare them off even if he does not dare to actually attack them. But before he can do much of anything, the Templar takes an abrupt step forward and shoves Dorian against the wall behind him. The force rattles his ribcage, upsetting a bruise he got while training with Bull. He does not let the pain show but raises a hand and lets a flame dance on his palm, bigger now and definitely a threat. Hopefully, the reminder that he could fling a fireball at their heads will be enough to get them to back off.

What Dorian does not expect is the wave of sudden coldness slamming into him, making him double over. The energy crackling under his skin, ready to be called forth, vanishes, drained by the Smite, leaving only nausea in its wake.

It is a terrible feeling, beyond words. Wielding magic is like breathing, but the Smite is more than a chokehold. It feels as if boiling silver is poured down his throat, charring his insides and leaving nothing but a barren wasteland and the painful memory of greatness.

He can count on one hand the times he was hit by a Smite and it was always during training, leaving him shaky and sick the rest of the day. This feels so much worse, done out of malice, meant to cripple instead of teach.

“You were saying, mage?”

The drunk guy sounds much more sober now if no less disdainful.

Panic unfurls in the pit of Dorian’s stomach as he realizes he is cornered. He cannot run, he can not access his magic. He is helpless in the middle of the Inquisition’s stronghold.

Perhaps they will be happy with simply roughing him up a little, with teaching him his place. The drunk guy is leering at him, but Dorian has gone to his knees under equally terrible circumstances before. If they want to kill him, though, there is little he can do. This is not how his story will end. It cannot be. And yet, Dorian has his hands full with staying upright.

He barely feels the first punch. It rattles his body but the pain is a mere echo, lost in the void that has suddenly opened in Dorian’s very core.

The men are still talking, all three of them now towering over Dorian, but he just hears the hate in their voices, no actual words.

A punch the face snaps him out of his stupor, the acute sharpness of it enough to penetrate the fog that has settled over his senses. With consciousness, though, comes more fear.

“You mage scum are good for one thing, though,” one of the Templars says. Dorian is far beyond being able to recognize faces, but his wide grin reveals a missing tooth. “And once we’re done, we’ll bury you outside in the snow, do a favour for all of us.”

Dorian hates the cold and he really, really does not want to die in it. He does not want to die at all, but the how has suddenly become a far greater concern then the when. He opens his mouth, not sure whether to say something or to just scream, but he does not get to do either because another hit to the head makes his vision swim and his thoughts scatter.

“What is going on here?” a new voice interrupts, making the three Templars jump.

The sudden lack of contact between them has Dorian slumping against the wall, his legs shaking too badly to keep him upright. His mind, however, whirs into a panicked chorus of denial. Three men are more than enough, he cannot have even more join the apparent free-for-all he has become this night.

Then, though, he sees the men back away, and when he looks at the newcomer, he finds too broad shoulders and horns and - Dorian has never been so glad to see Bull. It does not matter that he is a mage or a ‘Vint, Bull will not leave him to his fate.

“We were just having a friendly discussion,” one of the Templars says.

Dorian’s brain is slowly sorting itself out again as no new pain comes forth, and he scoffs. It tugs at a fresh bruise on his face.

“The Inquisitor is making a mistake trusting these abominations.”

Dorian is pretty sure that is the one who used the Smite. He shivers, pushes himself further against the wall. The Templars are no match against Bull, but they are still standing like a wall in front of Dorian.

“I suggest that you run,” Bull says, his voice vibrating with something dark. “And if you’re smart, you’ll leave Skyhold tonight and never look back.”

“We don’t take orders from beasts,” the gap-toothed one spats, no ounce of self-preservation.

Dorian has seen Bull on the battlefield, bloodied and hungry for a fight, an unstoppable force. Right in front of their eyes, Bull transforms into something worse than that. His back straightens, making him grow even taller, and his eyes gleam with that same battle madness, focused unflinchingly on these three, puny men.

“Run,” he bellows and takes a swing. Even armour would not have saved Gap-Tooth for Bull does not hold back. His fist slams into the Templar’s jaw with a sickening crunch, throwing him through the air as if he weighs nothing.

That is enough of a demonstration that they do not question Bull again but run, stumbling over their own feet in their hurry to get away. Dorian would laugh at their turned backs, relishing in how the situation was flipped on them, but he is still too busy with just breathing.

He closes his eyes and catalogues the pain. The throbbing, familiar ache of bruises is easier to deal with than the terrifying void inside of him. He reaches for his magic and nothing answers. His skin is just skin and not a conduit. His body is just blood and bones and nerves, full of pain and longing now, nothing greater.

“Are you all right, big guy?” Bull asks, sounding way too close.

When Dorian opens his eyes, Bull is crouching next to him, the madness replaced by blatant concern.

He will live. Nothing feels broken and there are potions against the pain. This is not his first rodeo.

“Of course,” Dorian lies. He is not sure he can stand up, much less make the way back to his quarters. He does not particularly want to be alone either – he has never been this weak before. Or, well, he was once, when his father – better not go there. This evening is ruined enough.

“You were assaulted –” Bull says but trails off when Dorian pushes to his feet.

Shaking legs or not, he is done cowering and he does not need Bull’s pity. Bad enough he had to be saved.

“Merely a misunderstanding,” Dorian says and puts in the effort to regain control over his expression. “Although I appreciate you stepping in.”

He has some experience with putting himself back together. And being alone in his room does not sound so bad if he thinks about it. There, at least, will be nobody to act tough for.

Bull nods but Dorian knows him well enough by now that this battle is not won. Coming another step closer, he his hand on the crook of Dorian’s elbow, never bothering to ask whether Dorian even wants help.

“How often does this happen?” Bull asks, his tone just conversational enough to almost hide the simmering anger beneath.

Deep down, Dorian is flattered that Bull would be upset on his behalf, but if he lets this happen it will only lead to more complications down the road. So, while he does not push off Bull’s hand, he takes care not to lean on him and begins walking towards his room. It is slow going, at first, because his body feels wrong, missing something vital, but he is walking.

“Do you think there’s someone waiting around every corner trying to trip me up?” Dorian says, falling back on his old friend sarcasm. That at least is familiar. “They were drunk.”

Drunk and ready to kill him. That is definitely a step up from mere insults and the occasional try to trip him in the hallways.

“And yet you don’t seem surprised.” Bull looks at him from the side, with an intensity in his eyes that reminds Dorian that bull is not just a formidable fighter but also a spy. “This actually explains quite a bit. You love your wine, but you never get drunk. You always leave the tavern early and never alone. You -”

Dorian pulls his arm away from Bull, very aware that people keep touching him. The momentum of that almost throws him off balance, but apart from the sheer wrongness of being without magic and the exhaustion weighing him down, Dorian almost feels like himself again. Half of himself, covered in bruises, but not a victim anymore.

“Are you done analysing me?” he snaps, knowing that his glare falls flat. “Nothing happened.”

Bull does not visibly react to Dorian refusing his help but looks decidedly unimpressed. “You’re shaking.” He does not move further away but somehow manages not to crowd Dorian either.

“Well, let someone cut one of your limbs off and see how you like it.” It feels like that, only that the loss is not located in just one limb but all of him at once. Magic is always there, waiting just for his call. His entire skin prickles with it, his lungs draw it in alongside the air to breathe. Without it, he barely feels human.

“A limb?” Bull asks, confusion interrupting his casual interrogation. Did they – oh. They took your magic?”

Bull’s realization does not sit right with Dorian. There is no malice on his face, no relief. One of his Chargers is a mage and Bull never gave the impression he minded Dorian using magic, on or off a battlefield. But Dorian is only too aware of how Qunari view mages. It is probably unfair, but he still cannot quite think clearly. And part of him will always be wary of Bull’s loyalty to the Qun.

“One used the Smite,” he says, trying for nonchalance, although it is hard to fool Bull even when he is not exhausted and in pain. “I’ll be right as rain in a minute.” Or a few hours, if he can only lock his door and lie down.

“Dorian.” Bull pulls him to a stop, just the briefest of touches before he lets his hand fall again. “This is not okay. You need to talk to Cullen about this.” It is a miracle, how he can sound so serious while saying something this ridiculous.

Dorian is already walking such a fine line with the Inquisition. It does not matter that he very much wants to rid the world of Corypheus and that he would keep hunting Venatori on his own, that he wants to reform his homeland until it is something to be proud of again. The Inquisitor likes him and trusts him not to betray them. The rest of the Skyhold’s inhabitants? Not so much.

Cullen is always civil to Dorian, the same way he is to foreign diplomats and nobles. Their conversations have gotten a bit warmer since they started playing chess together. That does not mean that Cullen would go against his own people for the sake of a mage telling tales.

“I most definitely do not,” Dorian says with a glare. “I can handle myself.” He has done so a thousand times before and likely will a thousand more.

“That’s what it looked like.”

It is not like Bull to mock him. About his clothes or the way he drinks his wine, yes. But about losing a fight? A minute ago, he called it assault but now the blame has shifted to Dorian. It always does. Time to go so he can lick his wounds in private.

“If you’re done insulting me, then –”

Bull reaches out and Dorian flinches instinctively. It gives them both halt, so much more telling about Dorian’s state than his threadbare lies.

“What about the other mages?” Bull then asks, his tone gentle, reasonable. “What if they’re going for someone a little less noticeable next? Who doesn’t play chess with the Commander and has his ear?”

Dorian has thought about that before. The other mages usually do not go out alone, too used to be wary of Templars. And he doubts anybody would dare to touch Vivienne or Solas.

“They hate me because I’m from Tevinter.” It is certainly true. And he is never quiet about his disdain of Ferelden either. The weather, the dogs, the food. He will not be forbidden to speak the truth.

But Bull does not seem to buy it. “Is that all?

Dorian stays silent. He is loud and flashy and unrepentant, so that is what might have drawn their gaze. There is little about him that does not offend people here. But that is not what their main issue is with him, but the fact that he commands a power they do not understand and never will because they cower from it.

Being a mage is not a choice, though. In most parts of Thedas, magic is treated as something to be contained and caged. Control is important, certainly, but magic is in everything and cutting it out means going through life half-blind.

Dorian turns and starts walking again. He is done with this conversation. People will always come after him and making him a fool of himself in front of the Commander of the Inquisition forces will not change that. In fact, he might just get another enemy out of this.

“I can talk to Cullen, if you’d prefer,” Bull offers, keeping up easily with him.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles,” Dorian bites out. He will have to talk to Fiona and perhaps Vivienne to make sure that the other mages are not harassed too. He can deal with it, has done so for as long as he remembers, even if the insults change wherever he goes. But Bull is right, he will not let other experience the same.

“Never said you weren’t capable,” Bull says, his placating tone falling on deaf ears. “Do you know who they were?”

Dorian has no ideas. If he remembered every face that looked at him with disgust, every person who spewed insults or spat at him, he would not be able to cram anything else into his brain. It was never that important.

He shakes his head. “Cullen trusts the Templars that came with him.” And, despite the progress Cullen has undoubtedly made, he does not trust mages.

Bull nods but argues anyway, “We’re getting more refugees every day. He doesn’t know all of them.”

And they will still be Templars while Dorian is just an enemy mage. But Bull is right. If they are going after a member of the Inquisition’s inner circle, the other mages are not safe.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promises grudgingly. That is not a conversation he is looking forward to. He can already imagine the questions. Are you sure you did nothing to provoke them?

“Good.” Bull smiles as if he never doubted he would win the argument. “Let me walk you back to your quarters.”

Dorian should protest. He is a grown man. But he is tired and shaken to the core, still empty inside where his magic used to reside. He still does not want to be alone, does not want to peer around every corner, waiting for the next attack. The shadows seem to retreat from Bull’s massive form and Dorian is glad for the company.

He does not say thank you, but the corner of Bull’s mouth ticks further up as if he hears it anyway.

“Next time, just find me at the tavern. If I’m not there, the boys will be just as happy to help.”

Dorian nods, even though he does not understand the offer. Bull does not owe him anything. But this is something he has been learning slowly, relying on others. Maybe he can allow himself to get used to it. He can dream, at least.

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #insults #dragon age #fanfiction #dorian pavus #iron bull #mage templar conflict #self worth issues #my writing

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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“One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail.” — Coriolanus, Act II, Scene VII

This brief excerpt from Coriolanus cuts to the quick of the Intellectual Dark Web (IDW), and their exaltation of individualism over tribalism and rationalism over ‘barbarism’. Coriolanus carries a dubious honor Shakespeare’s other works do not. The Roman tragedy was his only play formally banned under a liberal democracy; Its militarism troubled Allied censors in post-war Germany. In the play, Shakespeare elucidates the essential nature of all conflict: “strengths by strengths do fail.” Only a power can overcome another power, only a tribe another tribe.

The IDW can be divided into three principal factions: The New Atheists, led by Sam Harris, are vociferous critics of Islam, ‘Trumpism’, and woke fervor. The ‘Hard Liberals’, flagshipped by Bari Weiss and the Weinstein brothers, share many of the same viewpoints as the ‘wokeists’ they oppose, but seek to advance their position through discourse and persuasion. Finally, there are the Right Liberals, embodied in polemical figures like Ben Shapiro, Dave Rubin, and to a lesser extent, psychologist Jordan Peterson.

Almost every ‘member’ is concerned with the threats unfettered tribalism pose to civil society. In response to the January 6th Capitol events, Weiss asserted that America’s “liberal consensus is dying because of ideologues on the left and the right who hate the other side more than they love the country.” She goes on to call for respect of “our common identity as Americans.” But Weiss has her diagnosis of American decline backward. There is no ‘America’ as she describes. The liberal consensus scrapped American identity for parts during its sixty-year campaign of deindustrialization and deterritorialization. Regional identities were evacuated for hagiographic narratives of migration. Offshoring hollowed out once-proud cities and towns, annihilating regional elites and common livelihoods. Secularism disintegrated Americans’ shared moral universe, and catapulted cosmopolitans and heartlanders in opposite directions. The issue is not too much identity, or too much ideology, but too little, and of little quality.

As media theorist Marshall McLuhan believed, weak identities produce violence. Without metanarrative frameworks, senses of belonging, and ties to somewhere, man becomes violent to prove to himself he exists. The frontier, the high seas, the contemporary Middle East, are all replete with “people minus identity.” What Weiss sees as overactive tribalism is its obverse: a multitude of weak identities struggling to prove to themselves that they still exist. If you put swathes of the country under spiritual and material siege, they will lash out. The solution, then, is not to embrace a sort of vacuous pluralism or individualism, but to create strong collective identities, and remove the threats to these identities currently provoking violence.

On some level, Weiss knows this is the case. Her hero, Natan Sharansky, chaired a clandestine committee that removed Palestinians from East Jerusalem so Israelis could settle there, and consistently rebuffs taking any actions that may limit Israeli sovereignty. Fair, but the luxury of nationalism isn’t extended to Weiss’ American compatriots, the Trumpists she considers beyond hope. The civil strife and violence of today is, as ever, ‘a quest for identity’, something that civility and moderation themselves can never provide. These are the fruits of strong identities and political order, not its preconditions. There is no middle ground between evangelicalism and transgenderism, nor nationalism and globalism. Not even facts themselves supersede this tribal paradigm, and have themselves all but disappeared.

In honor of Caius Martius’ conquest of Corioli, he is given the name Coriolanus. After being urged to campaign for consul, he is ejected from Rome by envious patrician demagoguery. Rather than retreat into glum hermitage or inglorious sinecure, Coriolanus claims it is he who forsakes Rome and its people: “that do corrupt my air, I banish you!” He throws in his lot with an enemy tribe, the Volscians, and plots to destroy Rome. The IDW, almost entirely liberal to its core, is incapable of following him, because ultimately they’re true believers. Despite their own banishment, their own disdain for BLM and Antifa vulgarity, they’re unwilling to part ways with liberalism. If their cause was noble, or even viable, their antagonism toward political reality would be admirable.

…

The relationship between power and knowledge runs down to the very foundation of every society. At its metanarrative heart, there will always be something beyond criticism, justified by itself alone. Blasphemy laws arise to defend this core from injury, and to protect the people from being led astray. Today, the ‘seamless garment’ of kaleidoscopic minority ‘rights’ are this unquestionable center in American public life. This, the IDW understands — but their response is woefully inadequate. They seek a revival of an open public square, in which they will compete and triumph in a ‘battle of ideas’. Joseph de Maistre saw clearly in his Generative Principle of Constitutions that society’s spiritual core is not determined by elocution or intellectualism. As he writes, “fundamental principles of political constitutions exist prior to all written law.” It is not that a critical mass of Americans was persuaded to support abortion, gay marriage, or Black Lives Matter. These were victories delivered by judicial fiat or mass intimidation. Power inscribes new constitutions in man’s heart, and moves society in its stead. The IDW, an elitist project without elitist influence, can not change society with either podcast or polemic. Only power can do that.

This isn’t to say the IDW is all pacifism and pusillanimity. Sam Harris, for one, is perfectly fine with vituperation against an enemy. The targets of his ire are typically religious yokels, either domestic or foreign. His lengthy defense of torture and belief that “some propositions are so dangerous that it may even be ethical to kill people for believing them,” show that Harris is, as any other tribal, focused on rewarding friends and punishing enemies. Carl Schmitt’s friend/enemy distinction expresses itself among rationalists as well as zealots. What is different is that erstwhile IDWers are spectacularly bad at discerning ‘friend’ from ‘enemy’.

Brett Weinstein — who was famously forced to flee Evergreen College with his wife after protesting a banishment ritual inflicted on white students — recently waded into a ‘Wokeism’ Clubhouse discussion, brandishing his anti-racist credentials, only to be coerced into a struggle session, silenced, and pressured for Venmo reparations. Weinstein appealed to the purported common moral framework shared by those in the discussion, saying “I’m not a classical liberal, I’m an actual liberal.” Despite his protestations, his on-command affirmations of BLM and transgenderism, he was utterly routed. The Clubhouse coup against him isn’t fantastically unreasonable. Brett is claiming ostensible membership in the tribe, only to object to their victories on the grounds of procedure or politeness. He agrees with the leaders’ underlying premises regarding white supremacy, but refuses to take the radical action which necessarily accompanies that claim, for this tribe. IDW Girondins will proceed to the guillotines apace, in lockstep with the out-groupers.

Coriolanus’ mortal hamartia, his error in judgement, fell along the same lines. On the precipice of conquering Rome, besting his foes, and securing eternal glory, his mother intercedes with him on the city’s behalf. Rather than proceed with the siege, Corioalnus makes peace between Rome and the Volscians, and is promptly sentenced to death for his service. Unlike the IDW, he dies in heroic defiance of his captors. The error, however, is the same. In an attempt to remain tribeless he slights both sects and engineers his own destruction.

…

Postmodernity is a thoroughly haunted epoch. Dead ideologies are revived as kitsch, and past visions of the future hang over popular consciousness and political projects. We are a society in the void between history’s end and its rebeginning. History is idling, waiting to be restarted. The public square is a battleground, and only one tribe will enjoy it as their own in victory. Peterson knows this, though his tyrannophobia prevents him from understanding it fully. While his postmodernization of traditional symbols and stories provides the postliberal right a new means of popular interface, his politics provide neither solace nor solution. For civil society, facts, and ‘normality’ to reemerge, a decisive victory is necessary. Strong collective identities build strong societies, and these identities do not emerge from individualism or rational pursuit.

By and large, the IDW is a spent movement subsisting on podcast sinecures, fractured by Trump, incapable of accepting America’s tribal realities and lacking the understanding to resolve them. In a desperate attempt to escape from ideology, it only tumbles further and further into its maw. As facts themselves fade into ether, its members are left advertising an Enlightenment project long since dissolved. There are no longer any facts, only data flows to be instrumentalized or ignored. Collective identities are in terminal decline, desperately scrambling against deterritorialization through violence. Rights by rights are faltering, and discourse cannot save us.

As we explore our haunted and stagnant era, searching for exit, pining for unity, we see as T. S. Eliot did: “Only at nightfall, aetherial rumors/Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus.” A resurrection of Coriolanus, one who refuses to turn back, will be necessary for America to survive until the Final Resurrection. Those ready to leave the dark will light the way.

#benjamin roberts #im1776 #coriolanus #read the whole thing

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heroofpenamstan · 4 years

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RELATIONSHIP ASK MEME: JACOB SEED + JOANNE BURTON

( Tagged by @f0xyboxes and @mackie-hattwie (was just about to tag you in this, as well!); thank you so much! x gonna tag anyone that wants to do it, but still going to throw out some blogs because I know they may or may not have some amazing OCs: @shallow-gravy, @ariestals, @jacobseeds-mainhoe, @hawkfurze, @sammystark, @iamnotyourmusebitch, @shellibisshe, @foofygoldfish

Full template here because I skipped a section whoops;

Warning: crossed out text contains sensitive content! Also, very lengthy and quite smutty at times! Too long for my own good, tbh. )

DISAGREEMENTS:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Joanne; her bark is sharp and loud, uncontainable when irked. Jacob’s grave tone is enough to make anyone wary without him having to raise his volume.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Jo. Always Jo. Jacob’s smile always promises to bring her back to him, regardless if she does go or not.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Unsurprisingly, Jacob. Some slights against his siblings are just too large to be buried in the shallows, so he steps down periodically. Joanne feels his absence like a bucket of freezing water, leaving her cold for days.

Who trashes the house? You’d think it’s Jo with her tendency to pop off and shatter a glass or five, but the shelf barely hanging on a bent hinge is all Jacob.

Do either of them get physical? They get into brawls, but only when severely wronged by one another. Being who they are—dysfunctional assholes to the core, but equal in their prowess—the scraps and bruises blooming on their skin prove to be sufficient payback, enabling them to carry on with whatever the fuck is brewing between them.

How often do they argue/disagree? Initially, their differing worldviews and methods and everything they stood for caused uncontrollable rifts. Now? They know better than to spend their restricted time together conflicting about unchangeable facts that would get them riled.

Who is the first to apologize? Most often Joanne; she always gets at Jacob for his operation and tactics. Yet, when Jacob points out her mirrored misconduct, she concedes, albeit reluctantly. Jacob, on the other hand, is unapologetic for his actions; means to achieve an end—stop fucking glaring at me, Jo—

SEX

Who is on top/bottom? It’s a tumble down the hill for these two. Sometimes Jacob relishes in her heat and her weight sinking down on him, other times it’s Jo clutching at his scarred shoulders and wrapping her bruised legs about his waist. They switch and adapt most often than pick a preference.

Any kinks? Choking and spanking; nothing too severe, though they do get pretty hot and heavy and rough.

Who has the strangest desires? Not really odd, but Jacob craves Jo’s caresses and kisses at his scars at his most vulnerable sometimes. Joanne never holds it against him, nor comments.

Who’s dominant in bed? Both of them are clashing alphas, and it’s a constant battle to get the other to submit. However, because they do regard one another as equals, neither has a single qualm with being pinned down and ravished.

Is head ever in the equation? Most often.

If so, who is better at performing it? Surprisingly, (or not) Jacob. Jo always praises his fingers and his tongue and ravels at the scrap of his beard against her sensitive flesh.

Ever had sex in public? For them, public sex is usually safer than in Jo’s abode on Dutch’s (camera-filled) Island, or the Peggie-infested walls of Jacob’s holds that may or may not whisper back to the Father. Although, there once was an incident in a cage and a recruit walking in on something particularly gnarly that made both of them reconsider—Jo still hasn’t found out what had happened to the young trooper after that.

Who moans the most? Joanne doesn’t know how to sock it during a fight, a spat, or when Jacob traces her neck with an eager mouth.

Who leaves the most marks? Jacob. He likes seeing her pretty skin marked up by his teeth and his tongue; Jo, admittedly, can’t recognize her own claim that doesn’t involve sharp nails running along the expanse of his back.

Who is the more experienced of the two? They’re on the same page, give or take. Jacob has numerous years over her. However, Joanne’s troubled past of drug-fueled mistakes stemming from a young age quickly catches up on him.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Jo can count on a single hand the amount of times her and Jacob made love. It has always been their primal urges that meshed them together, or the hate burning at her chest, the desire brewing in his eyes. Yet, sometimes, he’s soft and she glows; Jo might even mumble something she isn’t supposed to, and that would spur Jacob on further.

How long do they usually last? It depends on where they are and how long someone would note their absence. When he is able, Jacob drags it out for as long as he can, wanting to see his little soldier crumble and cry for him. But, more often than not, it’s a rough, quick spur that leaves them both snarling and kneading.

Rough or soft? Rough; nearly always rough.

Is protection used? Joanne thanks the day implants came into play. (In the past, there was always a possibility of her hurling the pill back up her esophagus once the withdrawals set in, but now, with the Collapse right around the corner, she’ll be safe for the next years to come, much to Jacob’s delight.)

Does it ever get boring? No. They always have an ever-burning drive for one another, albeit not the most healthy—but it’s always there.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? The aforementioned cage can’t be topped; nothing will change Jo’s mind.

FAMILY

Do they plan on having children/or have children? Jacob thinks himself too old and too unsuitable for children of his own. Y’know, you remind me of the Old Man sometimes, John had said, only once—in a light manner, at that—but Jacob had shut the thought of his own kids at that exact moment, if he hadn’t before. He has his Judges and he has John, and that’s enough. Joanne herself thinks herself too irresponsible in that regard. She doesn’t fancy bringing another life into a fallen world once the Collapse hits, focusing on the Ryes if she ever gets a longing for children, only to be reminded just why it would be a bad idea in the first place.

If so, how many children do they want/have? —

AFFECTION

Who likes to cuddle? Joanne. On the rare occasions her and Jacob share a bed, she cuddles up against him subconsciously. She wakes up with her head tucked at his neck.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Jacob, usually. He’s not exactly subtle, but he’s no fool, either. He knows how to time his touches as to not get caught out in the open.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themselves? Jo would say it’s Jacob, but he would argue. (He has receipts in the form of crescent moons perched on his shoulders, after all.)

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Jacob isn’t one to cuddle, but when it comes down to it, he doesn’t mind losing circulation in his shoulder if Jo curls into him like that.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity? As simple as it sounds, talking is their favorite past time. Just connecting with another person who’s been chewed up by the world is therapeutic for both of them, especially with them having to sneak about and not getting to do much of anything else. Also, sparring with each other, once Jacob changes tactics.

Where is their favourite place to cuddle? Jacob’s cot, against a sturdy tree trunk, a boat once or twice.

How often do they get time to themselves? Never. Never, ever; especially Jacob, having to train his flock vigorously for the Collapse.

SLEEPING

Who snores? Joanne; she tends to sleep on her side for it, paranoia of choking and suffocating clouding her brain yet, from the time her nostrils were clogged with Naloxone and and her lungs constricting and her heart stopping— Jacob bumps her if he hears her snore, pulling her to his chest, turning her on her shoulder if needs be.

If both do, who snores the loudest? —

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? If they get to spend the night with one another, they share.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? They start off a bit further off, but cozy up to each other if one or both get nightmares of times still fresh in mind.

What do they wear to bed? Usually, they simply wear the clothes they had on during the day in various states of undress, for if they are sleeping outside of Jacob’s private lodgings, either or both may need to scramble out in a haste.

Are either of them insomniacs? Jacob; Jo is an actual log. ( “I don’t think you sleeping in for that long is good for ya’, pup.” Joanne can only snort: “So is napping for three hours a night, but I’m not gonna start.” )

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Joanne has pledged to never take any kind of drug if she wasn’t in mortal peril or doesn’t have her hands tied, resorting to herbal remedies to lessen the weariness. Jacob, too, shares this sentiment, but refuses Jo’s minty shit, fuck.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Joanne hooks her leg across Jacob like a lifeline. He doesn’t complain.

Who wakes up with bed hair? Jacob; the Herald has a face-full of braids, too.

Who wakes up first? Jacob. Joanne hates the early morning shift when he rises from bed.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Not prepares, per se, but Jacob does drop something pre-made or snack-y on her lap when she starts to stir.

What is their favourite sleeping position? They definitely tend to spoon ( Jo likes being the big spoon, tracing the scars littering Jacob’s torso. ) Joanne sometimes snuggles into Jacob while he’s laying on his back, too.

Do they set an alarm each night? Jacob has a strong internal clock, waking himself up at the slightest creak, so he doesn’t usually have a need for an alarm. To Jo, Jacob is the alarm clock; be it him pulling the curtains, pulling the sheets, or pulling her closer to him in the morning when their time is running out and they have to part ways.

Who has nightmares? Both of them. Jacob dreams of a raised hand and a child's wail, of a flaming barn and violent shouts. Most times, he hears Miller’s laugh, and that haunts him more than the carcass he reduced him to. Phantom gun shots make him jolt in bed as if shot, and Jo reminds him that you’re dreaming and it’s okay; I got you. On the flip side, Jacob sometimes wakes to the sound of Joanne nearly death rattling. It unsettles him, makes him wonder how she must feel when he is the one trying to spring to life as she does when he shakes at her, telling her to breathe. She always does, in the end, but it leaves her shaking and clutching at him for support.

Can a television be found in their bedroom? “Can you please turn off the monitor, at least for now?” Jacob pushes her swatting hands away with a huff. “No can do, Jo.” ( He has six more hanging in his room, besides the aforementioned. )

Who has ridiculous dreams? Joanne had once shared one of her dreams with Jacob, and the ingrained look he gave her prevented her from sharing any more of them.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Joanne may as well be making snow-angels if it wasn’t for Jacob caging her in.

Who makes the bed? Jacob, with a deep, resigned sigh fixes the bundled up sheets once Jo decides to finally step—fall—out of his bed.

What time is bed time? In the early AMs.

Any routines/rituals before bed? Joanne tries to take care of her hair as much as she can, what with the mud and grime and blood Hope County rubs into her scalp and her braids on the daily. Jacob double-checks everything before going to sleep, from looking at security footage to radioing his Chosen to confirm one thing or another.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Joanne by far; Jacob actually smiles when she throws a pillow at him.

WORK

Who is the busiest? On average: Jacob. Yet, oftentimes, Joanne gets sent on lengthy errands that take up half of her week.

Who rakes in the highest income? Jacob can dip his hand into the Cult’s fund, if he so wished, without much complain from John.

Are any of them unemployed? Technically speaking—both of them.

Who takes the most sick days? Jacob and Joanne don’t really know what it means to slow down if they have duties they must uphold, cold or flu be damned.

What are their jobs? Jacob runs the cult’s security, whilst Joanne is waiting for the second to leave the County and turn in her badge for good; helping out a Resistance by doing unlawful things is too much of an anchor for her mental health.

Who sucks up to their boss? Joanne, at first, when she finally lands the job she never thought she’d get, what with her history of drug abuse ( that had been painted way prettier than it actually was for the sake of entering the Academy. ) But once the Reaping began, Joanne felt less and less inclined to participate in all the bloodshed while still having her badge, oftentimes even ignoring direct orders from the Sheriff himself. And, Jacob—well. He doesn’t suck up to Joseph, but he does follow his orders obediently—unless they involve Joanne; he likes to detour.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Joanne; she doesn’t comprehend how Jacob, preoccupied as he always seems to be, is able to be where he needs to be as punctually as he is.

Who stresses the most? Jo is easily aggravated, and some minor inconveniences makes her loose it. Jacob just tuts at her nature, finding it more amusing than irritating most of the time.

Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Jacob doesn’t enjoy it as much as he sees it as a necessary sacrifices to perform his duties, while Jo grows to despise her job, for the people of Hope County expect her to gun down and demolish Peggies at the drop of a hat unprovoked, just because she’s the Junior Deputy. ( Apparently, that means she is in her right to snap a neck of an unsuspecting Peggie, according to some members of the Resistance. Jo would argue with that fiercely. )

Are they financially stable? Yes.

HOME

( Going to skip since they don’t live together. )

MISCELLANEOUS

Is money a problem? For Jacob, money hasn’t been a problem since his brothers resurfaced. For Jo, however, money has never stopped being an issue, not after her funds have been drained by her addiction for so many years.

How many cars do they own? Jacob can have a pick of any of the vehicles the cult has to offer. Joanne, running along the same lines, but with more stealing and hijacking involved, owns an ATV she has had to fix up more times than she could count, an RHIB she stole from one of the coastal guards and keeps in the Silver Lake Boathouse, and a car Dutch had provided her with that she uses to blare all her top hits from.

What’s their song? NFWMB by Hozier (lmao)

Do they live in the city or in the country? County.

Do they own their home or do they rent? Jacob owns several properties to his name ( Thanks, John ) and Jo has made Johnson’s Lookout Tower her home—with a lot of cleaning and refurbishing involved.

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Both of them love the outdoors, and Hope County has a lot to offer in that regard.

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Joanne assists people in need most of the time. Otherwise, she indulges herself in the freedom she has to roam about however she likes, be it cruising through the Henbane or chilling about Dutch’s Island, scouring the patch of land for supplies. Jacob performs his role as one of Joseph’s Heralds, training his soldiers, sniffing out the Whitetails, attending his brother’s sermons in order to keep an eye on him, planning and mapping out how to go about when Joseph’s supposed prophecy will come into fruition.

Where did they first meet? The catastrophic Church arrest wasn’t the first time they’ve laid eyes on one another, interestingly enough. Joanne has had a run-in with John Seed near his barely-finished ranch at the beginning of the summer, an affair of a volatile Peggie disrupting the peace in Holland Valley, and the lawyer having to jump in to save the nervous man’s hide. In the driver’s seat of John’s white pick-up, blue eyes stared intently at the interaction between his brother and the new Deputy, cataloging her features and her manner, the way her jaw seldom relaxes when John places a friendly tattooed hand upon her shoulder, the teasing roll of her title evoking nothing but an irritated brow to rise. Seeing as how the situation has been defused and dragged out, Jacob Seed had leaned his head out the rolled-down window, barking at John to get a move on since Joseph is waiting. The heavy gaze of the Junior Deputy still sears at his skin as he shifts back into drive.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Both of them don’t tend to burn money, only focusing on necessities and some odd trinkets here and there.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Jo had flashed her ( stolen ) helicopter in front of one of Jacob’s outpost, and it took everything in him to cease fire on the chopper.

Any mental issues? Jacob has PTSD, including some other disorders here and there, laying just beneath the surface. Jo has unresolved trauma of her own, among other things caused by long-term drug use.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? Joanne will crack up every single time the composed soldier loses his footing. Every. Single. Time. And get payback for it.

Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither.

Who kills the spiders around the house? The spiders and these two live in harmony; it just can’t be helped when you live on the countryside.

Do they have any fears for their future? Loads, although Jacob is more at peace with the inevitable. Jo, on the other hand, frets about her future outside the county, about the off-chance Joseph is right, about whether or not her and Jacob could last, will last. About what would happen if people from both sides find out about their affair.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Joanne; she can cook up a storm when she’s in the mood.

Who pays the bills? None of them, at the moment, do.

Who’s the tallest? Jacob, by nearly a whole foot.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? After some time, Jo finds that Jacob has no shame whatsoever; and for good reason,

Who wanders around in their underwear? Both of them do, Joanne more often than not.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Up Where We Belong by Joe Cocker is simply belted out as Joanne rows through her shooting assailants, trying to ignore the sickening squelches of the run-over bodies by positively screaming where the eagLES CRY—

What do they tease each other about? These two assholes hold nothing back, their teasing coming out as pure, unadulterated jabs. About Jacob’s scars or Joanne’s anger issues and impulses. His hair and her fevered face. His demeanor and her short height.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Jacob knows that Joanne doesn’t really have many insecurities about her appearance, but sometimes, he just can’t help but wonder about what sort of thought process occurred in that head of hers to wear that.

Who crushed first? Jacob. It took Jo a little while, but it wasn’t long until she was positively consumed by him.

Any alcohol or substance related problems? Joanne has had a severe drug addiction since she was fifteen; joining the police force seemed like an ideal way to go straight and help rehabilitate people suffering from the same things she has. Currently, she’s been clean for two years, excluding a few times with Sharky that involved Oregano here and there. Jacob, on the other hand, had tipped into the bottle a few times after his discharge, but has since forsaken drinking himself into oblivion since his rough period.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Joanne—there’s no doubt about it.

Who swears the most? They both swear equally as much, but Jacob makes it sound classy, somehow.

( I am so, so sorry if someone actually read through this ugly monstrosity. I just wanted to establish some of their details for myself, hence, this fucking fanfic-sized ask. )

#tag meme #oc: get to know jo #deputy joanne burton #jacob seed x joanne burton #lengthy and boring and self-indulgent #far cry 5 oc #female deputy #my stuff #otp: dark rabbit & red wolf

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spam-monster · 4 years

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Helsaweek 2020 Day 1: Swap

(or tumblr’s apparently being a butt but idgaf i’mma post this and head out)

I’ve done things like power swaps or gender swaps or kingdom swaps before (at least in my head), and I wanted to do something different this time, sooooo...introducing amount-of-siblings swap!

-----

In the beautiful kingdom of Arendelle, there were once thirteen fair princesses; although the kingdom had only ever seen two of them, for around the time the third was being carried the king and queen had suddenly closed the gates to the castle without warning. Stories were told, by the servants and traders who went in and out, of a group of perfectly normal, lovely girls. Yes, they all had their quirks, but none seemed to have any affliction that would justify hiding them away. Rumors were spread as well: questions of parentage, a hidden 14th child born with some terrible curse and locked away, a secret illness that affected only royalty…or perhaps something to do with the eldest child, Elsa, since she was almost never seen outside of her rooms.

But surely she was just engrossed in her studies, preparing herself to become the new queen after her parents had been lost. After all, the older townsfolk had met Elsa when she was younger, and she had been a perfectly normal, sweet young girl. Whatever had caused her parents cut themselves off from the kingdom, it surely had nothing to do with her…

---

“Alright, that’s enough! Dina, don’t play huntress with Frida’s Mr. Deer! Ingrid, stop trying to give Cathrine a makeover! Gunda, Hilda, stop fighting! Jorunn, we can go see the horses later! Klara, Linda…”

“You’re fine.” Brigitta says from behind her. “Now let’s all get ready for bed, we have a big day tomorrow.”

Anna sighs in relief, and mentally thanks Brigitta. At least one of her little sisters is acting responsible tonight.

“We want to make a good first impression on the peasants, after all.”

…Or maybe not.

“Yeah, c’mon. You don’t want them to get mad at us and rebel and drag us all to the guillotine.”

“Cathrine, no one is being guillotined tomorrow.”

“I’d like to see ‘em try!”

“Hilda, please don’t try to fight anyone.”

“…Will they even like us?”

“Linda, of course they will.”

“Why should we even care about Elsa’s coronation?”

Anna turned to Mathilde, the youngest of the thirteen sisters of Arendelle, slumped over on a couch looking bored. “Because she’s your big sister, and she’s going to be queen! We’ve all been waiting for this day for years, we need to support her-”

“Why should I care about someone I barely know?”

Anna flinched. “It’s true, that…Elsa hasn’t been around much lately…or spent much time with us…but I’m sure she’s just been…very busy! With…studying to be queen! And all!”

Mathilde glared. “That’s a lame excuse. She always ignores us.”

“She’s not…a bad person, really…”

“Yeah, I know, you always say you used to be “best friends” or whatever. But you’re the only one of us who’s ever seen her act like a real sister!”

Anna looked around, panicked, as most of the other girls began to nod and whisper in agreement.

“She never talks to us.”

“She’s never played with us.”

“She rarely even comes down for dinner.”

“She left you alone.”

Anna turned to Klara, confused. “Left me alone?”

Klara looked at her sadly. “After mom and dad died. She left you to raise us all on your own.”

And Anna had no answer for that.

-------

In the small kingdom known as the Southern Isles, there were once two princes. Although you might not have remembered at first, because the elder brother was so boisterous and dazzling that it was easy to forget the younger one even existed. Prince Torvald was remarkable; an accomplished hunter, a spectacular storyteller, able to charm even the most aloof noble, and sure he could be a bit boorish and egotistical at times, but he was a prince! It was to be expected, right?

“We should be grateful we even have a prince at all, let alone two.” People would whisper. “The poor queen had been trying for decades to bear the king a worthy heir, rest her soul.”

“Not sure the other one was worth her effort, though.” Others would grumble. “What’s his name…Hans? What has that one ever done that Prince Torvald didn’t do better? Well, at least we have a spare…”

---

“Is it not a fine day at sea, little brother? Clear skies, calm waters…and across the ocean, the quaint, little, unimportant country of Arendelle awaits the blessed presence of future King Torvald the Mighty!”

Hans tried very hard to suppress a sigh. *Arendelle is bigger than the Southern Isles* he grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“If…Arendelle is so “unimportant”, as you say…why did you bother to come with me?”

“A King never passes up an opportunity to impress other rulers with his might! That’s a lesson you should remember…or not, I suppose.”

*Since I’ll never be a king, you mean*

“Also, I have heard tell that the future queen is quite beauteous. Perhaps she shall prove worthy of the honor of becoming my bride.”

*That was my plan, damn it!*

Torvald laughs obnoxiously and slaps Hans on the back, almost knocking him off his feet. “Fear not, little brother! I have also heard that she has many younger sisters! Perhaps one of them shall take pity on you!”

Sitron knickers at him in concern. Hans shakes it off. “Yes…perhaps. I – um, should go…check on the horses.”

Torvald laughs again and sends him off with another hearty slap. Hans sighs heavily as he tends to Sitron.

“I’m alright, boy.” He murmurs to the horse. “And who knows? Maybe the queen will be smart enough to see my brother for what he really is, and…who am I kidding? She’ll never look at me.”

-----

(I imagine how this goes is that:

- Hans still meets and bonds with Anna but Torvald swoops in and grabs her attention away since Elsa is ignoring him (and he’s jealous Hans is getting attention for once)

- Elsa still freaks out and runs, Anna still goes after her by herself and leaves Torvald and Hans in charge, Torvald spends most of the time posturing and giving grandiose speeches while Hans actually works to take care of the people and ends up bonding with the other princesses as well

- at the castle Torvald makes Hans go in first and he actually has a conversation with Elsa and bonds with her

- in the end Torvald talks Hans into killing Elsa (because he doesn’t want to dirty his hands, plus then he can make Hans take the blame if things go bad), but Hans hesitates so Torvald tries to do it himself but Anna stops him

- Torvald gets sent back but Hans decides to stay (and clean up his brother’s mess), the sisters all basically adopt him as their new unofficial big brother alongside Kristoff, the end)

Might expand on this later (like designing the new siblings, or maybe WRITING SOME ACTUAL HELSA IN INSTEAD OF JUST HINTING AT IT.)

Bios for the au siblings under the cut:

I basically just ran down the list of Norwegian girl names for this one (one from each of the first 13 letters that aren’t “a” or “e”), so let me throw out some basic entomology/character stuff for the swap siblings:

Brigitta: 3rd child, in this ‘verse Idunn was probably pregnant with her when the accident happened. Goes between helping Anna keep the younger ones in line and causing problems herself. Has a bit of a superiority complex regarding her status as a princess - acts like she must be better than everyone outside the gates, but really it’s a coping mechanism to help her deal with the isolation she feels. Name means “resolute, strength”.

Cathrine: Name possibly derives from the goddess of witchcraft Hectate, so she’s the spooky, playfully morbid one. Level-headed when she’s not creeping the younger ones out by joking about death. Dina is her younger twin.

Dina: Name comes from the goddess Diana; Roman equivalent to Artemis, goddess of the moon and hunts. She picked up her love of hunting from the hunters who would come and sell fresh meat to the castle cooks, and spend her time stalking the other girls (and their stuffed animals) and sneak-attacking them with her toy bow and arrows.

Frida: Name means “peace”. A quiet nature-lover who hates conflict, which is ironic because she’s one of a set of triplets and the other two are the most aggressive of the bunch. Ends up being the target of the more aggressive girls a lot because she doesn’t want to fight back, and she’d rather they pick on her than one of the younger girls.

Gunda and Hilda: Names mean “war” and “battle” respectively, and they live up to them. The typical red-headed identical twin duo that’s always causing trouble (except they’re triplets and the other one doesn’t want to play along). Dina can either be their ally or their rival depending on the situation.

Ingrid: Name means “beautiful”- basically she’s the one obsessed with fancy clothes and trying to do everyone’s makeup.

Jorunn: Name means “horse lover” …yeah. Obsessed with horses, spends way too much time in the stables and comes back kinda smelly, biggest dream is to ride freely through the fields of Arendelle, possibly has headcanons of what breed of horse each of her family members would be (with accompanying fanart).

Klara: Name means “clear, bright”. Intelligent and honest, sometimes to a fault. Although she doesn’t like upsetting people, she won’t shy away from telling hard truths. Linda is her twin.

Linda: The most gentle and sensitive of the girls, easily stressed and has a hard time objecting to others because she doesn’t want to hurt their feelings. Gets along best with Frida, who tries to protect her from the more rambunctious girls. Name means “soft, mild”.

Mathilde: The youngest of the bunch. Acts out a lot because she knows she can get away with it. Her name means “battle strength”, and she lives up to it by being the most strong-willed and stubborn of the bunch.

As for Hans’ older brother, he had to be really obnoxious to make up for the fact that there’s only one of him instead of twelve. Torvald means “Thor’s ruler”, and I basically based him off Thor at the beginning of his first movie (minus any of the good traits) – he’s brash, egotistical, and takes his little brother for granted. Unlike Thor, he’s also an emotionally abusive dirty coward with no respect for women or anyone he deems “weaker” than himself (which is pretty much everyone except his father).

(Even though Hans stays in Arendelle in this ‘verse, I think he might end up going back and becoming king of the Southern Isles someday just because I can easily see the kingdom deciding its sick of Torvald’s shit and kicking him out. Maybe he and Elsa end up in a long-distance thing, or they unite their kingdoms or something idk how this works.)

#helsa #helsa au #helsaweek #helsaweek2020 #frozen #frozen au #elsa #hans westergaard #prince hans

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king-paimon · 4 years

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HNK Chapter 86 thoughts: Complicated characters being complicated (Thoughts on Diamond)

I’ve been so anxious about this chapter after the last one. I’m happy to say that it isn’t as heart wrenching as I thought it would be, which was great, but it’s clear now we are approaching end-game and there will no doubt be some sadness coming soon.

The art in this chapter was gorgeous! I want that two page spread as a poster! Phos looks awesomely horrifying and Ms. Ichikawa never fails to make me laugh at the most weirdest of times. Seriously, the whole buildup with Alex for it to end up with him passing out was hilarious! It was also nice to see most of the gems in the same chapter, and while I’m still sad we’re going to have some major losses, I’m really looking forward to what’ll happen next.

But I want to give my thoughts on the true star of this chapter: Diamond.

This is another really long post so be warned. I again apologize for the messy writing; it is still not my strongest trait, but I’ll do my best to put my thoughts into words and I will make any necessary edits if I need to. These are my thoughts and if you want to share yours, I’m all for it. Please no attacks, though. Everyone has their own opinion when it comes to the characters and while we may not agree, these opinions will be respected. Thank you and please enjoy my probably poorly written analysis!

Diamond... is such an interesting, complicated character. Like with Phos, it’s fascinating how they ended up this way.

After chapter 84, I was curious to see how Dia was going to react to Bort and it turned out better than I thought. After years of not properly dealing with this toxic relationship between Dia and Bort, of course it would end up with an emotional driven fight. But what has me most interested is how it’s Dia who’s going feral while Bort is being calm. It’s like their personalities flipped, but after looking back, it makes sense.

Diamond is tightly bound to their inferiority complex and their so-called rivalry with Bort. I betcha that if Bort was the same as he was at the beginning of this story, I’m sure Diamond wouldn’t be flipping out like they did in the chapter. I’m sure that was exactly what they were expecting to see, but that’s not what they got: not only had Bort changed physically, but he had changed mentally. He’s no longer the battle hunger fighter Dia knew; he’d rather care for the jellyfish and not fight at all. Bort has changed through and through. And maybe I’m seeing this all wrong, but I think this is one of the facts that made Dia livid.

In Dia’s insecure mind, they believe they must be equal to or better than Bort. They must prove to themselves that they are a true diamond by beating the stronger, battle loving Bort at his own game, so they can be truly free of fear and feeling inferior. Dia now finally has the chance to do this… but that Bort isn’t there anymore. And because of that, Dia feels cheated and angry. Also, I think it’s funny that Dia claims that Bort got to live freely because of them, though really, it’s Phos to thank but of course neither gem will acknowledge that. (Continuing to show how much the gems care about Phos, I see *sarcasm*)

It’s interesting though: Diamond was the one who left and got a new life, but didn’t truly mature or change, while Bort was the one who stayed behind but had changed and matured (sort of.) You’d think it would’ve been the other way around but the fact that this is what happened just makes the characters more interesting to analyze. Speaking of which...

Diamond and the blame game

I can understand Dia’s inferiority complex and how it’s tied to their obsession with Bort. I can definitely sympathize with them and understand why they made their decisions. But at the same time, I recognize that these feeling are not Bort’s fault but rather Dia’s. This ‘rivalry’ of Dia’s is entirely one sided and the negative thoughts Dia has about themselves are all self-imposed. For this reason, my sympathy for Dia can only go so far.

If Bort was the type to over-gloat and constantly and intentionally belittling Dia and putting these terrible thoughts in Dia’s head, then I would definitely be more sympathetic towards Dia and would hate Bort... But as far as I can remember, Bort never said anything like this to Dia (yeah, he said very mean stuff to Phos but that’s entirely another thing.)

While he had scolded Dia harshly for doing anything risky, like that time after he saved Dia and Phos all the way back in the first chapters (Chapter 3 specifically,) I pretty sure Bort never went out of his way to intentionally make Dia feel inferior, especially for some sort of personal gain. As far as I see, Bort’s only crimes against Dia was being overly protective, overly strict, and simply existing. I’m not saying that Bort is completely guiltless, because Bort is guilty of a lot of things and does deserve some form of punishment. But intentionally making Dia feel sorry for themselves isn’t one of them. That is all Dia; Dia is the one who put themselves in this negative head-space and chose to run away than properly deal with them. They shouldn’t keep blaming Bort for their self-inflicted misery, but they chose to.

Should Bort have treated Dia differently/better? Oh yeah, most definitely. Bort, throughout most of the story, had a problem when it came to how he treated the other gems, especially Dia and Phos, and could have done things differently. But regardless, I still understand why he acted the way that he did, partially due to my own experiences in life, and I can’t hate him for it. And despite what I said before, the same goes for Dia; I may not agree with how they’re handling things, but I can understand why it came to this. But in the end, the truth is this: Diamond’s inferiority complex

What’ll happen next?

I keep on telling myself to not make predictions for this series because Ms. Ichikawa is great at throwing curve balls, but I can’t help but think of the possible scenarios of what’ll happen next between Diamond and Bortz.

The first one is that they end with a draw. Both end up beaten to the point of exhaustion and maybe they both realize the errors of their ways without further destruction to one another. As nice as this scenario sounds, I don’t think it’ll happen, at least not this way. Maybe they both end up destroying each other without a proper resolution… I wouldn’t put it passed Ms. Ichikawa, honestly. So, this scenario, if it were to happen, can either end satisfyingly or unsatisfyingly.

The second possibility is that Dia wins. I find this more likely to happen because Dia has the advantage of the moon people and Bort having a messed-up arm. Anyways, I picture that Dia would win over Bort, finally ‘proving’ to themselves that they are better than Bort and is a ‘true diamond’ afterall... they finally ‘won’...to only realize they aren’t happy. They still felt empty. Wouldn’t that be both satisfying and unsatisfying? This whole build with Dia and Bort, after years of self-inflicted feelings of worthlessness, for Dia to win…to only realize that it was pointless. I kind of hope that we get a scenario like this because it’ll force Dia to acknowledge that Bort, as much as they may hate/love him, isn’t the one who’s holding them back. They’re in charge of their own happiness and blaming Bort for their misery was nonsensical and dumb.

The third possibility is that Bort would win but I definitely don’t think Ms. Ichikawa will have this happen. Regardless of how I’d feel, I think its safe to say that Bort is most likely not going to survive this fight. If he did, then it would honestly be quite pointless for both his and Dia’s character development. Who knows, though? Maybe something like this will happen but with more twists? Anything can happen with this series…

Either way, I don’t think Bort or Dia are going to get out of this fight unscathed. It’ll end up with both becoming completely broken physically and/ or mentally. (And to a degree, they both kinda deserve it. A lot. For various reasons.)

Final thoughts:

I’m glad to see I’m not alone when it comes to this character. Dia is anything but perfect or even morally good. Their character is more than the cute, soft, nice girly archetype; they have layers with many negative traits, including pettiness and selfishness, and these traits are shared by many of the other characters in this series. I know I say this a lot, but I can’t think of many characters in this series that are truly good or bad, black or white; everyone are various shades of gray and I think that makes for a fascinating story. And while Dia isn’t one of my favorite characters in this series, seeing them shed become unhinged after everything that happened is really fascinating and I can’t wait to see what’ll happen next.

Sigh, these dang gems…if only they knew how to communicate with each other! So many conflicts would’ve been resolved! But nope: they’d rather ignore the problem and let it fester or they let their emotions take over and go straight to violence without properly trying to resolve anything. Man, I love all of these characters, but they can give me such a headache…

And though a happy ending for all is out of reach, I still have hope that all of them. The moon and earth gems, the Admirabilis, the moon people (minus Aechmea) and most of all, Phos, deserve happiness. How will this happen? I don’t know… we’ll see.

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk spoilers #hnk spoiler #hnk chapter 86 #hnk thoughts #hnk diamond #hnk bortz #HNK theory #character analysis #i stan happiness #for everyone #except aechmea

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