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brighteststar707 · 7 months

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Turn It All Back

Part Three of Don't Say My Name

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist | Read on AO3 (Registered users only)

✦ Saeyoung x gn!Reader

✦ Words: 3407

✦ TW: Death mention, destructive anger

“And… what brought you here?” As if he doesn’t know. He can read it off your face. You were there with him at the funeral, were the one to give him the news. You have been watching him with those same eyes since the day he woke up. “I’m worried about you.” The real question is how much do you know? What do you see when you look into his eyes? He can’t bear to look at you and find out.

Saeyoung sits at his desk and absentmindedly watches the screens in front of him. One of the monitors is broken, a web of cracks and multicoloured pixels is all that’s left on the screen. He can’t remember the outburst that caused it, only the sick feeling he got when he realised what he had done. He pretends it’s not broken, though, and keeps flitting his eyes from screen to screen, as if he's anticipating a mission that is never coming.

This has been an increasingly common occurrence over the past few days as the anger inside him has swelled up, taken up all the remaining space in his body, leaving room for little else. It has resulted in small, isolated outbursts like the one that caused him to break the screen. Manifestations of momentary frustration that he cannot contain.

He feels like a time bomb about to go off, the pressure between his ribs threatening to break him at any moment. The funeral was the last straw. When he is not at the hospital, mask all the way up, putting his only real energy into trying to help Saeran, he loses hours to sitting motionlessly, holding himself tense so he doesn’t do something stupid. In the waiting room seats, in the car, at his desk. Even at the funeral.

He has caught himself fantasising about revenge lately. It is temptingly easy. He'd go quiet for a few days, abduct Rika before she can be sent anywhere out of reach. He would finally be able to ask her all the questions that had been raging in him for so long. He'd deliver justice. Then, he'd finally be free. Or so he tries to believe.

With everyone at fault gone or out of reach, he is the only one his anger has left to hurt. This is the closest thing to catharsis he can picture.

He had seen her at the funeral today. Intentional or otherwise, there was always someone standing between them, keeping them a safe distance apart. He wonders if it was your doing, or perhaps Jumin had been more attentive than Saeyoung had given him credit for. She had been staring at V's picture, oblivious to everyone around her. In a world of her own grief.

It doesn’t take long before his fantasies are interrupted by the more rational side of him that knows that revenge in this form really won’t make things any better. Even if she spoke to him, he doubts anything she would say could make any difference. Killing her would just put more blood on his hands, make him feel more like a monster than he already does.

The robotic voice of his security system suddenly announces a visitor, pulling him from his train of thought. He doesn't care enough to get up. Whoever managed to get through the front gate will just have to come find him themselves if they really want to. It's probably Vanderwood anyway, here to pick up something he forgot.

He was not expecting your voice to ring through the house.

“Saeyoung?”

He straightens up suddenly, wincing when he jostles his arm the wrong way. He scrabbles for the alarm remote to turn it off. Gingerly, he gets up from his chair and rolls out his shoulders, as if it’s going to do anything to ease the tension there. He is equal parts thrilled to see you and anxious to keep you away from him as much as possible.

“I’m here,” he says as he comes out into the living room. It’s a mess. Besides going without Vanderwood’s regular cleanings (Saeyoung does not have the presence of mind to attempt it himself yet), there is more proof of his declining mental state here too. A broken figurine, the robo-dog looking worse for wear after getting in his way. Old takeout containers sitting by the front door. He hopes you won’t see any more of these traces through the house before he can set them right.

You’re already there, waiting for him in the middle of the room. There is a strange dissonance in seeing you here under the fluorescents. He has come to associate you with warmth and comfort, starry skies and sun coming in through the windows. The real, the beautiful. There is nothing in this house that is real (not in the way that it relates to him), much less beautiful.

You take him in slowly. For the first time, he feels self-conscious of how poorly he has been taking care of himself. His clothes are crumpled (he hasn’t gotten changed since getting back from the funeral), his hair is a mess. He knows he has dark circles and he can’t remember the last real meal he ate. Belatedly, he notices he is still holding the remote.

“How did you get in?” He asks to try and deflect your attention away from him.

“Vanderwood lent me their dictionary. Turns out my Arabic isn’t too bad.”

He assumes that Vanderwood also gave you the address. Traitor.

“I’m worried about you.”

The real question is how much do you know? What do you see when you look into his eyes? He can’t bear to look at you and find out. He does what he knows best instead.

“Oh, this?” He gestures vaguely to himself and the space around them, “It’s better than it looks, I promise. It’s just with Saeran… ah… you know how I get.”

“Saeyoung.”

“Please,” and now his voice is pleading. More desperate than he wanted it to sound. Please let it go, he thinks, I can’t talk about it or I’ll shatter. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” You echo. His pupils are big and dark, all but swallowing up his irises. He looks possessed. “I thought we promised that we’d tell each other the truth.”

The memory hurts. It’s bright, coloured in a happiness that seems almost unreachable to him now. He will be the first to admit that he has fallen into old habits, keeping you just out of reach for your own safety. And he hates it. Now that he has grown used to the comfort you bring, he hates to be apart from you. It’s just that lately he has been afraid of exploding and hurting everyone around him. His roughest edges are out on show, and he is barely keeping them contained. He'd rather he be the only person he hurts.

So, he deflects again.

“You… don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

“Bullshit.”

He looks surprised. You’ve never spoken to him this way before. But this isn’t the time for delicate approaches. He will take any out you give him.

You know full well that the funeral was the last drop in the bucket that was on the brink of overflowing. You had caught the sharpness to his words, the way he kept his hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking earlier today. And that terrible stillness. That’s the biggest tell. As if someone has robbed him of his essence and left behind an eerie impostor.

Opposite you, his demeanour has shifted. He has squared off his shoulders as if he is preparing for an attack. “Fine. I don’t want you to know. It’s… ugly,” he says.

“That excuse has never worked on me before. I want to know what you’re feeling and thinking, regardless of how bad it is. How am I supposed to support you if you won’t let me in?”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you stubbornly.

More softly, you add, “you know I’m not going to think less of you for what you’re thinking, right?”

In theory, he does. He has come to trust you completely. It’s still hard to believe in practice, though. Being in his own head so much lately has made it hard to imagine that you wouldn’t be disappointed in him, or worse, repulsed by what he has become. He doesn’t know what will become of him if he ever lets go of his building anger completely.

God, does he wants to, though. There is a part of him that wants to put himself in your hands and trust that you’ll know how to help him. It’s almost a relief that you were stubborn enough to come and find him yourself . He loves and hates that you would chase him down just to break down his walls, over and over again.

He knows just by looking at you that you’re not going to give up. And in that moment, he has to trust that you are as strong as you have proven to be so far. That you will catch him if he crumbles.

“What… do you want to know?” He finally says. His posture relaxes slightly, his eyes not empty but fearful, as if even he doesn’t know what is coming next.

“What are you thinking?”

“I… I don’t –” It dies in his throat. It’s nothing coherent. A hot, restless fury, fantasies of blood and revenge and the inescapable reality of the damage that has been inflicted.

“Okay, then let’s talk about Saeran instead. How is his treatment going?”

He deflates a little bit. You know him too well. The details of Saeran’s care are imprinted on his brain, and they start to tumble out of his mouth without needing any more prompting.

"It's not. He is resisting treatment; the doctors don't know what to do with him. He won't talk to me and he- " his breath catches when he thinks about how broken he looked the last time he saw him. Not just physically, but mentally too. The emptiness in his eyes as he watches the clouds passing by his window. “The doctors say that his condition indicates years of drug use.” He grits his teeth. “Years.”

The anger that had temporarily subsided in your presence flares up again. It fills his lungs and burns his throat as the memories come all at once. That list of chemicals, the blue substance they discovered after raiding the Mint Eye compound. The side effects, the withdrawal symptoms. The testimonies of former cult members coming out every day – the ceremonies and the punishments. His brother’s eyes, icy mint where they were once warm amber.

He instinctively wants to put it out, change the subject before he can’t breathe anymore and his heart starts to hammer too hard. At the back of his throat, it all builds up, begging to be let out. It's too much.

You’re looking at him encouragingly, urging him to push through it. So, he lets the spark catch. The more painful realisations start to come out, and these hurt more to say.

“They forced that stuff on him for years and put him through hell. They lied to me, sent me those pictures to keep me quiet while they abused him! It was never supposed to be this way!”

His voice is already getting louder, but you don’t flinch, so he doesn’t try to stop it. He hasn’t said any of this out loud yet, and in a way, this feels more like a way for him to untangle the mess in his mind than it is to answer your question. You let him talk regardless.

“V spoke to me almost every day and he never told me how bad things were! He told me to defend the RFA against the hacker! He knew who I was fighting and did it anyway! How DARE he!” Every time he says V’s name, it’s with venom. "I might have made things worse for Saeran by just-" His voice gives out before he can finish.

He doesn't fight against the memories that resurface.

Saeran’s skills at hacking, the years it must have taken, the toll it took on his health. That keyboard at the compound, the letters on the keys long since rubbed away from use. The list of injuries he sustained, old scars and new bruises, the chronic malnutrition and lack of sleep, and – somehow the most offensive – the extensive scarring around his wrists and ankles from being physically restrained.

Blood is pounding in his ears. He wants to scream, to sob for every second Saeran had to endure in that place. It is impossible to think clearly when all he can hear is his heart racing and all he can see when he closes his eyes is the pain and regret in V’s eyes when they were back in that cell. It wasn’t enough, and it is all he will ever get.

“This was supposed to be the beginning. We were supposed to be free. But how am I supposed to live with his fingerprints on everything in our lives? I go into Saeran’s hospital room every single day and he threatens to kill me. How am I supposed to move on?” He says that last part mockingly, echoing what one of his doctors had told him before he was discharged. “He let Saeran be tortured! Who gave him the right to meddle in our lives? We were kids!”

In that moment, his fury feels inescapable. Embedded in his flesh, impossible to separate from himself without turning into a bloodied wreck.

“You asked me what I have been thinking recently? I wish I was the one to kill him. I wish I could have ruined him exactly how he ruined us. I wish I could show him what any father of mine truly deserves.”

It’s all too much, it needs to get out out out before it chokes him.

He hears the plastic of the remote cracking against the floor and then feels it under his heel as he grinds it into the tiles. It takes a second for his mind to catch up.

He looks back to you suddenly, expecting the worst, shame already clawing at his insides. He is already looking for any trace of disgust on your face, or worse, fear. But you only look mildly surprised.

“Saeyoung, you’re crying.”

He touches a hand to his cheek to find that it’s wet. How long has he been crying for? He isn’t sure. You reach out to cup his cheek. The tenderness in your eyes makes him feel brittle, on the brink of shattering.

He takes a ragged breath and then says, “That boy… in the pictures… that was who Saeran was supposed to be. Happy, in the sun. Carefree. Now, he might never -” he doesn't want to finish that thought. Shakily, he continues, "I was the one supposed to suffer for us. He should never have known this kind of life even existed."

You intervene, meaning to stop him before he can follow that line of thinking further. You clasp his hand in yours, try to straighten out his fingers, warm them up in your own (they're uncharacteristically cold).

"The responsibility of saving yourself and your brother should not have fallen solely on you. They should have protected you too," you continue.

He goes cold. Your statement tugs at something in him. A feeling so old it is etched into his bones, remembering it sends a dull ache through his body. It’s more instinctive than a clear memory he can define.

When he was young, there must have been a moment where he had wished that he didn’t have to hurt so much to keep Saeran safe. But that thought might as well have been sacrilege. He quickly repressed it, put it somewhere far out of reach, and grew around it.

But the way you've put it, so matter-of-factly, without any space for doubt, has unearthed that feeling, brought it back with a renewed strength, made it impossible to ignore.

His anger so far has felt overwhelming, too complicated to handle. This anger is simple. Childlike, almost.

He is Luciel, naming himself after the devil, and nobody intervenes. He is told that he has to do work - commit crimes - to earn money (he would only learn of V's personal riches later on in life and never connect the dots). He brings down international servers at the age of fourteen, because he'd rather be a criminal than watch his brother go hungry again. Nobody intervenes.

He is Agent 707, aged sixteen, fresh out of agency training, body aching and mind wiped blank. He is breaking codes he didn't know he had until it was too late, crossing lines that he never had the luxury of setting. Killing someone for the first time, taking on assignments without knowing who he is serving. Begging V and Rika, the only people he trusts in the world, for any indication that he is doing this for something greater than himself, because the concept of himself as a person is fading further every day.

He had always taken these struggles as a necessity, the sacrifices he has to make to keep his brother safe. He trusted V and Rika to guide him in the right direction, to know better than he did. They told him the agency was his best option, so he took it without question.

It’s only in hindsight that he realises just how much of himself he lost to that decision.

It’s in the knowledge that, despite being unconscious at the time, he can picture exactly how Saeran felt on that fateful day at Mint Eye. The cold metal, clasped in his hands. The shot, the recoil, the ringing in his ears. That momentary sense of relief, because he had bought himself more time, immediately followed by the sick seeping sense of guilt at what he’d done. He has been there many times himself. It is a feeling he’d do anything to take off of Saeran’s hands.

Again, more muted this time, he feels that surge of anger through his body, wishing he could pull V out of hell now and squeeze the life out of him himself and save Saeran that pain, at least.

There is a child in him, begging to be heard, wondering if he really was deserving of better. For the first time, he listens.

He inhales sharply through his teeth. "If I believe that then..."

"Then everything else falls apart," you finish.

If, he said. But it has already taken a hold in his head. The belated frustration he is feeling on his own behalf, the way his past memories are being tainted. And, yes, it all falls apart.

His voice is fragile, the question devastating in its simplicity. “Why? What did we do?”

The fight has left him. The anger has forced its way out and has left him raw and tired. With no defensive buffer, there is only the pain left to feel. You reach for his other hand and guide him to the sofa with you. He sinks into it warily and melts at your touch.

You give his hands a squeeze. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“There’s so much… where do I put it all? I can’t get away from it… I can’t let it go. It’s ruining me.”

“I don't know. There isn't an easy way out. But allowing yourself to feel the things you're feeling is better than the alternative. You can’t hurt yourself forever. I won’t let you.”

He lets that sink in. You wrap your arms around him and he allows himself to feel small for a moment. He can feel the breath you take before you speak again.

“You know I’m always here to catch you, right?”

And for the first time, he does completely.

You comb your fingers through his hair. He takes a breath, then another. Each one hurts, but it feels good to focus his energy on one action.

You both know that this isn’t the end. That this isn’t the last time this conversation will have to happen, but he feels a certain relief in knowing that he made it through this one. That you will be here to hold him through the next one and the one after that. Maybe it won’t kill him and maybe he doesn’t have to become a monster consumed by it.

He can only hang on for a day when he isn’t ruined by everything he has lost and suffered.

#Oh the time i have spent writing and rewriting this one #Don't say my name #mystic messenger #mystic messenger saeyoung #mystic messenger Saeyoung Choi #mystic messenger 707 #mystic messenger Luciel choi #Mystic messenger luciel #saeyoung choi #mysme seven #mysme 707 #mysme saeyoung #my writing

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t3a-tan · 8 months

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Failed Meeting - The Meeting

James meets Sammy! Well...kind of.

---

Sammy was home.

After years of suffering, grief, and losing hope, she was home.

Of course, she enjoyed hanging out with Oscar. After months she truly began to trust him— not blindly, but she didn't even need to say her boundaries before he respected them. He always seemed to notice when she was sad or scared or uncomfortable.

But it still wasn't home.

Realistically she understood that her home was gone; it had been torn away the moment her personal hell began. It died when she watched her brother fade away, too far from reach.

Or, so she thought, until Oscar had offered to take her on a walk out into nature. Sammy had agreed, if only to sit against his chest in his pocket and let her bad thoughts disappear with every chime of his warm laughter.

As embarrassed as she was to admit it, she loved when he would hold his hand against her as she sat in his chest pocket. She felt safe; his hands were protective. Sometimes she wished she could lay surrounded by them forever…

And that was when—as she looked out at the trees—she noticed that she recognized them. In a hurry she began to direct Oscar, her heart racing in anticipation, knowing that with each turn the route was being solidified, and her home was coming back.

She had at first resolved herself to live alone with Oscar. She was fine with that— happy even. But the moment they entered the oak forest she couldn't help but hope that she was right.

Oliver had been like an older brother to her for her whole life. He had moved in with her parents after she was born, and so they had been raised with each other. As Sammy grew he taught her many things her parents couldn't; like how to read and write.

Sammy was almost scared to see him again, if this really was the right forest. Would he recognize her..? How would he react to Oscar..? All of these worries were secondary to her desperation to see another member of her family again.

Oliver broke down at the sight of her, recognizing her instantly, and Sammy almost did the same, letting him cradle her scarred face with a sad smile. He then pulled her in for a hug, holding her close— that was the last straw for Sammy as she held her older cousin tightly.

Almost as if she was back to being 14. The age she was taken.

Oliver reacted surprisingly well to Oscar, thanking him profusely and acting like he wasn't a human at all. Sammy had been confused by his lack of fear, but it definitely made it easier to introduce the two to one another.

Sammy decided she wanted to stay with Oliver for a few weeks, to catch up with him and just to enjoy his company again. Oscar understood, and although she could see the sad puppy look in his eyes, he assured her that she should stay as long as she needed.

Which led her to now.

Home.

…

Oliver had been taking time to focus on Sammy completely. He was devastated to hear that his aunt and Tanner had both passed away, but couldn't hold back his joy and relief over Sammy returning.

She looked different in a few ways. The last time he saw her she was a mischievous and bright-eyed young girl, outgoing and a proud borrower; like his uncle. Now she was a young lady, haunted and warrior-like, paradoxically brave whilst also being terrified of what the world had made her into.

Oliver didn't push for any information that she didn't willingly give up herself. His questions were always gentle, his movements careful.

For the first week Oliver had lay awake for most of each night, watching over Sammy and processing that she was finally home again.

Every time he observed her abused body he couldn't help but feel a mix of wanting to cry all over again whilst also wishing the most painful deaths imaginable on whatever insane human had gone so far. The kinds of scars she had sustained were far beyond any cruelty he had witnessed himself.

So, with that in mind, and with what he had learned through occasional chats with Oscar, he decided not to introduce Sammy to James. Not yet. She was in a fragile state of mind, and just because she trusted one human did not mean she was ready to meet another.

But after a particularly bad nightmare Sammy had, waking Oliver up when he saw her having a violent panic attack, she begged to be allowed to come with him on Gail. Oliver had agreed.

He explained once they were within James's walls the situation, assuring Sammy that his friend was a safe human, like Oscar. After a brief moment of panic at the news, Sammy calmed down and said that she would stay inside the tunnels whilst Oliver hung out with James.

Although hesitant to leave her alone, he agreed. He couldn't force his cousin to meet a new human if she was scared. Her fear, after all, was built upon years of torture.

…

Sammy was nervous, spying through various holes and cracks at the human that Oliver was hanging out with. She wanted to make sure that nothing would happen— and as much as she wanted to be out there protecting Oliver from harm, the thought of being in front of a new human sent her into a panic

So she watched instead.

Oliver seemed just as comfortable with James as he was with any borrower, which was confusing. Borrowers and humans were different— humans were monsters; only some could be fully trusted.

Through her observations she found that Oliver's human was rough and reckless. He would poke and tease Oliver as he pleased, picking him up whenever he wanted to go anywhere else— and sure, Oliver didn't look like he minded, but her cousin must be brainwashed.

Oscar always asked, always checked, and was always gentle with her. That's why he could be trusted. He understood what a human was and was doing the opposite— but Oliver's human didn't seem to care that he was a monster at all. He wasn't even trying not to be scary.

After watching for a couple hours she began to feel more and more at ease. Not enough to be okay with meeting the frightening human Oliver somehow considered friendly, but enough that when she felt a bit peckish she could actually leave the walls to take something from the kitchen.

There was no entrance directly on the counter— or rather, there was, but it was slightly blocked by the toaster so she couldn't push it open. Luckily there was one on the floor on the other side of the kitchen, so Sammy exited from there and uses her hook to climb up onto the counter.

She focused on a pack of oyster crackers that were out on the side— only a small pack, but perfect for borrowing. She made sure to be completely silent as she began to drag the tiny packet across the countertop back towards her hook. As she did so, her mind wandered onto her own human.

She smiled just thinking about him. He was such a thoughtful and kind human— probably the nicest human on Earth.

Sammy froze up when she felt the ground shaking; a tell-tale sign of a human moving about. She went still, trying to focus and figure out if he was coming towards the kitchen or not. As soon as she realized he was she quickly abandoned her prize and, knowing there wasn't enough time to climb down, she instead ran and hid behind the coffee machine.

She covered her mouth to keep from being heard, staying perfectly still. The human would leave. He would leave. Her mind was plagued with flashbacks as she felt the shaking stop at exactly where she was. She could almost feel the cold metal bars around her again, the amused murmurs of humans, the probing fingers.

She fought off the panic, knowing that she couldn't afford to make any sound right now. Oliver may say that his human was trustworthy, but Sammy knew better than to blindly believe that.

Hearing her heart pounding in her ears, she listened as James activated the coffee maker. All normal. All good. Her heart practically stopped when she heard the man speak.

"A hook..? Is this…" She turned, watching from behind the coffee machine as the human picked up her hook, cursing internally at that fact. She should have picked it up and brought it with her, but she was in such a hurry to hide that she had completely forgotten it.

"Oliver? Did you leave your hook in here?" The human called out, whilst walking back towards the living room— just enough to hear Oliver's response. Sammy couldn't hear it, only getting to hear his human's side of the conversation.

"What!? Really? Can I..?" He trailed off, leaving Sammy confused. She peeked out, watching the one-sided interaction.

"But—" The coffee maker beeped, causing Sammy to flinch whilst also signaling the human returning to grab his mug of coffee. Sammy quickly ducked her head back behind the coffee machine. "Hang on. Let me just get my coffee."

James had been told vaguely that Oliver had found his cousin a few weeks ago. They both had celebrated the discovery with a hug, and then James had also comforted Oliver as the man finally allowed himself to grieve his aunt and his youngest cousin. James knew very little about the situation, just that Oliver's cousin Sammy was absolutely terrified of humans.

He wanted to meet her though— to show her that there was nothing to be scared of with him. Oliver had been teaching him how to act with other borrowers, and he felt like he could be trusted to not scare the girl.

Oliver had yet to explain what Sammy had suffered— partially because she hadn't even opened up to him fully on her experiences, so he wouldn't go around talking about her trauma without her permission. He felt that leaving it at you'll meet her when she's ready was sufficient enough.

But James, now knowing that Sammy was probably somewhere on the counter, couldn't help but take the opportunity. He noticed the oyster crackers that she had probably been trying to take and got an idea. If he gave them to her then she would understand he wasn't trying to hurt her, wouldn't she? She already knew he was Oliver's friend after all.

His eyes scanned the counter for potential hiding spots. The biggest one… the coffee maker. If he was small he'd definitely pick that as a hiding place. He took his coffee mug off of it to make sure it wouldn't spill before moving the machine to the side, glad to find he was right. Just as he was about to say hello, he stopped, struck by her appearance.

He had seen Oliver's sketches of his cousin before… He didn't expect her to look exactly the same, but as he took in her disheveled appearance, her unnaturally blonde hair and glowing blue eyes, so many scars— He felt a bit sick when he saw she had a prosthetic arm, one that hadn't been there before.

James wasn't expecting this to be the state she was in, and the moment he realized why she must be terrified of humans he regretted moving the coffee machine.

Why didn't I just listen to Oliver?

"Hello…" His voice was quiet, uncommitted, sad. He had seen some awful stuff in his line of work, but not like this. Stabbings, sure— but this was a victim of multiple years of torture, clearly. His mind raced as he continued to scan over her seemingly never ending scars; new and old.

He received no response, not that he was really expecting one. Her terror was palpable.

Rather than standing around and making it worse, James tensely placed the packet of oyster crackers and her hook near her, trying not to get his hand too close but failing as he saw her flinch and cower.

"I— sorry." That was all he could say before he took his mug, stepped back, then quickly left the room.

Oliver was not going to be happy about this.

#g/t community #ocs #g/t artist #g/t #borrowers #g/t writer #giant/tiny #borrower au #g/t au #g/t writing #g/t angst #giant/tiny writing

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deadlymistletoe · 10 months

Text

A Broken Bond

Pairing: Grey Wing x f!reader

Request: @cloudytrail asked: Gray wing and reader are mates, and there’s a skirmish at the Forest cat’s border ( this is before the great battle ) and reader dies, this makes Gray wing rlly angry and then Gray wing completely disowns Clear sky cuz he’s the one who killed her :D

A/N: I’m normally not good with heavy angst/major deaths like this but I’m happy with how it turned out! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy it!

Genre: Angst/grief

Description: Grey Wing has had a rocky relationship with his brother for a while, but when you’re killed in a border skirmish with the hot tempered leader it’s the final straw.

Warnings: Major character death, major violence/injuries

Word count: 1217

None of you had expected it. The rabbit had only made it a few tail lengths into the forest when you’d been able to make the kill.

Now, only seconds later, here you were, engaged in what was quickly becoming a violent skirmish with your mate’s brother and his cats.

When he’d first bowled into you, knocking you away from the rabbit, you’d been caught in a swift moment of shock, before recovering enough to dislodge him from where he pinned you down. And so the fight began.

You could hear the yowls and screeches coming from your friends as they too were forced to fight cats who had previously been their friends.

In a moment of relief from the attack, you recognized Hawk Swoop breaking away from the fight and sprinting back towards the direction of your camp.

You let out a sigh of relief when none of Clear Sky’s cats followed her, assuming she was retreating, before being knocked back into the present battle when you felt sharp claws rake down your side, the weight of the leader taking you both rolling further away from the rest of the patrols.

You felt your claws break skin as you raked them across his shoulder, hoping to force him to loosen his grip.

It didn’t work, even as blood covered both of your fur. “Prey stealer.” He hissed into your ear.

“Clear Sky!” You gasped out as you tried to catch your breath, the tom’s weight pressing you into the ground. “Please! Stop this!”

“If you wanted to share my prey you should have followed me to the forest instead of staying with my fool of a brother!”

“You're crazy.” You hissed. And your words were true. This cat was nothing like the Clear Sky you used to be friends with. Nothing like the cat that was brothers with your mate.

You vaguely heard more cats joining the fight, but you kept your eyes locked with the leader’s cold blue ones, so unlike Grey Wing’s warm golden ones that only ever looked at you with love.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you continued. “You’re power hungry, and greedy, and if those we left behind in the mountains could see you now, they’d be so ashamed of you. You’re nothing like the cat I used to call a friend. That cat is gone.”

You knew you’d gone too far when you saw the flash of rage through the cat's cold eyes. The only warning you had was a shout of your name in a familiar voice, and you turned, your eyes locking with Gray Wing’s horrified golden ones where he stood just in front of the tussling cats from your patrols.

You felt a cold, sharp claw slice through the fur and skin at your throat, and you choked, the last thing you see being Grey Wing running towards you as your world went black and life left you.

When Hawk Swoop had burst into the camp yowling about a skirmish over prey, all Grey Sky had been able to think about was you, and wasted no time joining the others going to help. When she had continued to tell them how Clear Sky had ambushed you, knocking you off the rabbit, claws out, it felt like a shard of ice had pierced his heart. This was one fight he’d never wanted to witness - his brother fighting his mate.

When the sounds of the fight came into earshot, Grey Wing out on a burst of speed, overtaking Tall Shadow in his hurry to reach you before his hotheaded brother could do something he’d regret.

He pushed his way through the tussling cats, looking for a glimpse of your familiar fur. He felt someone latch onto him before being yanked off, and he realised that Tall Shadow and the others had joined the fight.

It was only when he reached the other side of the fighting cats that he found what he was looking for.

You and Clear Sky were a distance away from the main fight - or perhaps, he realised with a feeling of dread, you were the main fight - Clear Sky had you pinned to the ground, the two of you holding each other’s glares as you snarled something at the pale furred leader.

Grey Wing realised what was going to happen a second before it did. He called your name, frozen to the ground in horror, and you turned your head, the eyes he loved locking onto his just as Clear Sky raised a paw, claws gleaming and brought them down across your throat.

All Grey Wing could see was the blood that seeped across your fur as you choked, falling limp beneath his brother and the light left your eyes as he unfroze and ran towards you.

He ignored the shocked look in Clear Sky’s eyes as the tom stumbled off your body, the reality of what he did catching up to him, instead crouching beside your body, looking desperately into your eyes for any sign of life.

He found none.

The other cats broke off from their fight as they heard the heartbroken sound Grey Wing made, turning to see him beside your limp form, Clear Sky standing to the side with blood staining his paws.

Grey Wing closed his eyes, pressing his face into your fur one last time before taking a deep breath and standing up, golden eyes opening to glare at his brother who stood on your other side.

He would grieve for you later.

“Grey Wing…”

“Don’t.” Grey Wing cut off his brother’s words, ignoring the tremble in both their voices. “Don’t even try to justify what you just did. I have tried to tolerate your actions as they grow more despicable every day, but this time you’ve gone too far.”

The others stood watching silently, horrified as they realised what had happened - how your fight with Clear Sky had ended.

The grey tom kept speaking, leaving no room for the blood stained Clear Sky to interject. “You knew what she was to me, knew how much I cared about her, and yet you still go as far to kill her over a rabbit, and a couple of harsh words?”

“Grey Wing… my brother…” Clear Sky whispered, shaking his head.

“No!” An uncharacteristic harshness came over Grey Wing’s voice. “If you believe you can still call me that after what you just did, you’re mistaken. You are no longer my brother.”

Clear Sky shook his head, panic clouding his features. “You can’t do that. Quiet Rain -”

“Quiet Rain would agree with me if she saw this! She would be ashamed to call you her son!” Grey Wing snarled.

The grey tom turned to glance at Tall Shadow, who nodded once and ordered her cats to take your body back to camp, shooting a disgusted look at Clear Sky as she padded to stand next to Grey Wing, running her tail over the distraught cat’s back.

The silence amongst the cats was only broken by the quiet “Goodbye, Clear Sky.” as Grey Wing turned his back on his former brother for the final time.

And so from that day onward your death was known as the one that broke the bond of family between the brothers once and for all.

#imagines #female reader #warrior cats #erin hunter warriors #warrior cats x reader #grey wing #grey wing x reader #clear sky #tall shadow #my writing

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c0nf3tt1 · 1 year

Text

His Reason (Izuku x GNreader)

Fantasy AU

Izuku is a knight, you are a fellow companion

(I wanted to give everyone the ultimate amount of freedom in this one so there are no specifics about the character that represents you! I have been trying to do more of this style of writing to make sure everyone can enjoy my work ! i hope you do !!)

Summary- it isn’t until a moment of weakness does he realise who he has been fighting for.

Warnings: mention of a death of a small child. wholesome, lil angsty? (not really) pinning!! (what’s a fic without a lil pinning?)

Word count: 1600, short, pretty much a recycled fic from a while ago. i wanted to do a parallel to the current state of the anime/manga without the spoilers, and of course some happiness !

You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen Izuku in such a state.

The overexertion and welling emotions barrelled into him all at once and he finally let it go.

It had been so long since he had openly cried in front of anyone, if ever-and he was sick of it. So sick and tired of all of the death, sadness and grief that seems to plague him for reasons he couldn’t understand.

So that brought him here, in the thick of forest in the middle of returning from a mission with you, on his knees during the night sprawled across your sitting lap.

Underneath the many stars that he could only hope were carrying the ones he had lost.

Their glint did little to brighten his spirits in this moment, his usual optimism all but snuffed out in his own desperation.

It wasn’t intentional, for him to break down in front of you.

He promised himself he would become the strongest knight

He had convinced himself he had become strong, achieving his ultimate goal in becoming the kight supreme of the northern kingdom. Someone who would protect every soul within the lands of the kingdom. He had saved countless lives during the recent war.

Although, the loss was incomprehensible. Death still spread, no matter the efforts of he and his fellow companions. Throughout the devastated landscape and small villages.

The loss of life was one thing, but the loss of livelihood was another destruction that plagued thousands.

But after such an intensely monumental battle. Things had started to catch up with him, it had all happened so fast.

He couldn’t help it.

He had collapsed, holding onto the closest thing that could provide comfort. Which happened to be you.

The only other person for kilometers.

It had just been the last straw.

The outskirts of the kingdom grounds were peppered with small civilisations, they were mostly abandoned now. The families packed up to seek refuge within the walls of the kingdom.

It was your duty to survey the damages, to help plan the replenishing of the peoples homes.

Izuku and yourself had encountered the death of a small child, a little girl during the sweep of the grounds. Up until that point, there were no findings of innocent lives slain. Izuku knew that it was only a matter of time.

The prerequisite of this thought did not nullify the shock of this discovery. Even with a victory, the extent of loss weighed down greatly in that moment.

You both weren’t new to death, especially on missions but something was different this time. It had struck a chord in the both of you. The act of laying her to rest personally, or the way she had been left behind to face the carnage alone. Maybe it was the size of her innocent, untainted hands that would never get to experience the wonders of the world like you had. It nested within the both of you.

It just wasn’t fair.

The piercing sounds of his sharp inhales echoed throughout the woods around you. The crackling of the orange flame castes an inviting glow across your intertwined figures.

There was a whisper,

“Please, just hold me a little longer.” a pleading voice struck your heart.

“Of course, I’m here and I’m not going away until you’re ready.” your tone is the softest he’s ever heard. It mellows over him in a calming wave.

Another involuntary sob shakes through his core, this time triggered by the comfort he wasn’t used to receiving. His desperate hands clinging harder onto the fabric of your clothing.

You only held him closer, the racing of your heart pumping sparks of adrenaline at his closeness. The skin of your cheeks burning against the air of the autumn night.

You could never let him go, not in this state or any other. You would always be by his side, forever desperate to pour your innermost feelings out for the boy in front of you, you just couldn’t.

Not when all he needed was a friend.

You listened carefully to his every sound, and sensed his movements. The gentlest grips of the fabric at your sides, or the shiver that slightly ran the length of his spine with every high pitched sound that left his lips.

Truly, this was worse than any open wound, seeing the one you loved so deeply feel this loss.

It was something you were blessed with, but it was also a curse, being so one sidedly in-sink with this selfless boy. Hyper aware of his every move, but that’s love you had told yourself for the slightest bit of closure.

It wasn’t until a cricket symphony later did you notice that his breathing had begun evening out, prompting you to hold him closer in reassurance. You shift slowly, standing up from the log that you had set down next to the fire. While you adjusted yourself not once did Izuku let go of you completely, it was then you sunk to the ground in front of the boy.

Your knees touched each other as you faced him fully. His hands tightly clutch the fabric at the sides of your waist. It was only then did you get a look at his face, the deep sunken features made your heart constrict in pain.

He was tired,

so tired of it all.

Of not having someone to hold onto, in fear that he’d lose them-

But you were here.

With your hands caressing the sides of his face in a gentle embrace. That gave him the strength to look into you further then he ever has.

You had always been there.

A sparkling shine of realisation filtered through the sadness within his eyes. His mouth fell slightly agape.

The softly shining milky light of the moon reflected wonders in the deep forest green of his irises. A gorgeous garden so full of life, you had never gotten to fully appreciate this close.

The soft short breaths that left Izuku’s lips began to drown out the clicking sounds and small rustlings of the forest around you. He was steady now, his eyes drying slowly. A new shine alight in the depths of his green.

The gravitation you had felt in that moment was the strongest force you have ever encountered, you were being pulled closer to him.

In more ways than one. It was at that moment that you both realised that the only thing holding you back were these walls. The walls that were finally breaking with every second you stared into each other’s eyes.

The depths of his gaze connected with your own.

A link that will forever remain, in both of your hearts.

A silent revelation.

The aching in the joints of his knees forgotten in the soft caress of your hands against his skin. The warmth of your palms breathing new life into his tired body. Then you smiled, one he had never cared to notice after all it was something so small. The one he had just found out made his heart flutter and cheeks warm. The soft shape and the curve of your eyes was so comforting that he had almost forgotten his sadness entirely.

The warmth of your hands suddenly became suffocating, the heat buzzing into his skin. Yet he would never back away, instead he drew nearer. His hands slowly un-clench your clothing, his fingers now gentle, gliding to rest underneath your rib cage, your eyes soften. Even in a moment like this, he was still so polite, never once taking advantage of vulnerability.

The thundering beat in your chest echoing in your ears. The crease of your eyes displaying your undivided affection for the boy in front of you. He was staring back at you, lips pulled into a tiny tranquil smile, reddened eyes held a wonder you didn’t recognize.

The soft strokes of your thumbs over his freckled skin lulling him into a sense of solace.

It was then that he had realised, it was the people he had grown to love and care for that made every pain worthwhile. He couldn’t save everyone, no one- nothing could. He knew that, but he'd be damned to an afterlife of eternal suffering before he’d let those he cared for cross paths with death. There was a time Izuku would convince himself all he was close to were his purpose to fight.

Although without him realising, you had become a reason to strive for the impossible, a world of harmony and peace.

Although now, he knew with an utmost clarity.

Your name but a whisper upon the soft clear breeze of the forest as you pulled him closer. Breaking the unrelenting intimate gaze, you held him tightly against your chest. In one last effort to savor the feeling of closeness you had never experienced with him-or anyone else before.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around each other’s figures. Enveloping the both of you with a sense of home that had not existed with anyone else.

The sparkle sewn into the dark sky held his gaze momentarily, a sense of encouragement inspired him to let go completely. To fall into you.

You had caught him. An emotional man encumbered with the burden of a title and extreme power, so effortlessly with open arms.

His eyes welled up once more, although this time due to the new comprehension of the heavenly emotion he had never once admitted was always present in your company.

It was in a silent moment, where his brain had been quiet, did he finally understand.

That his reason was you.

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stardust948 · 2 years

Note

In any of your fandoms what character(s) do you think deserved better? What should have happened instead?

Oh boy this is gonna be a long one.

Aang and Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender.

Aang should have gotten a growth arc. He should have been given the opportunity to mourn the genocide of the Air Nomads and learn how to let go of his attachment to Katara. Book 2 hinted at that but Book 3 completely reconned it.

My rewrite for Aang is that Sozin's Comet mirrors The Crossroads of Density. Ozai doesn't blast him with lighting right away. Aang still covers himself with rocks as Ozai attacks. There, Aang lets go of Katara and goes into the Avatar State. This is when Ozai shoots lighting at him. But unlike COD, Aang redirects the lighting. He still spares Ozai and the rest of the fight plays out like in cannon. The finale balcony Kata*ng kiss is replaced with Aang apologizing to Katara for his mistreatment of her. Katara forgives him and says she meant it when she said they would be Aang's family. They embrace and the rest of the Gaang come onto the balcony and join the hug. This would mirror the group hug at the end of the first episode of Book 3, thus coming full cycle.

Also, Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender deserved to have her trauma treated seriously and not shoved aside to become a trophy girlfriend/wife.

I would mainly have Katara and Sokka talk things out after the events of The Southern Raiders. They would realize that grief is different for each person and that's okay. Also, I would have someone stand up for Katara during The Ember Island Players. She was clearly disturbed by her portrayal and instead of her friends understanding or sympathizing with her, they agreed with the play. In fact, I would change the whole tone of the EIP episode by having it focus on propaganda and stereotypes. I would also have Zutara crumbs, but they won't confirm anything at the end of the series. I think the ending works better with a group hug.

2. Azula from Avatar the Last Airbender comics

They did her so dirty in the comics. They turned her into a literal psychopath who hallucinates and has to be restrained. To make matters worse, they replace her with a random half-sister who is perfect in every way.

I'm not sure how to fix this without rewriting the entire ATLA comics story, but the gist of it would be Azula working through her trauma and coming to terms with it.

3. Starscream and Knockout from Transformers Prime.

For most of the series, Starscream had been straight up abused by Megatron, Leader of the Decepticons. So when Starscream decided he'd had enough and left, I was rooting for him. He went rouge for a couple of episodes and was a threat to both the Autobots and Decepticons. But then he returned to Megatron??? And pledged his loyalty??? Then mourned his death??????

That made no sense! When Starscream returned to Megatron, I honestly thought he was going to try to dethrone him again but he just submitted. Last time he did that, Megatron tried to kill him in cold blood.

Hated it. Hated it. Hated it. Toxic relationship all day long.

Starscream should have stayed rouge for the entire series. That was when he was at his peak.

Knockout was the Decepticon's medic who joined the Autobots at the end of the show. I love Knockout. I loved that he switched sides. But I hate how they did it. It was so shoehorned. The Autobots had the upper hand and Knockout joined them to avoid going to prison. And they let him no questions asked despite all the trauma he caused them.

I would have had KO questioning his loyalties throughout the show. KO is treated like trash by Megatron (though not half as bad as Starscream) and is constantly looked over. The death of his lab assistant and friend, Breakdown, would have impacted him more especially since Megatron merely brushed it off. Starscream leaving also would have affected him. The final straw for Knockout would be when Dreadwing is murdered.

In the show, Dreadwing questions the honor of the Decepticons and they hint at him joining the Autobots. But he seeks out Starscream for revenge of the death of his twin brother and Megatron kills him. In this rewrite, Dreadwing shares his thoughts of honor with Knockout. He too is upset by the treatment of Breakdown's death because he was with him when he was murdered. Knockout is hesitant but Dreadwing has made up his mind about switching sides. When he goes to talk to Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, this is when Megatron kills him. Left alone with Megatron's abuse, Knockout is essentially locked in the ship. Later when Ratchet, the Autobot's medic, is kidnapped and forced to work for the Decepticons, he helps him escape. Ratchet notices KO's change and invites him to come along. KO finally takes the chance and switch sides for good. He proves his sincerity by exposing Megatron's Earth terraforming plans to the Bots.

4. Lotor and Allura from Voltron: Legendary Defenders

Lotor was basically Space Zuko. He hunted down team Voltron in the beginning but later joined them to stop his dictator father. It was also revealed that the father (I forgot his name) abused Lotor and forced him into villainy.

But then, the writers decided to recon all of that by saying Lotor was secretly using Team Voltron and draining the life form from a race of people thought to be wiped out by his father (that his is half of mind you). Team Voltron readily believes this despite fighting beside him for seemingly months and banish him to a different dimension where he MELTED. They actually showed his melted corpse!!! To make matters worse, they gave Haggar, his mother, a redemption! She abandoned Lotor as a child, sat by and watched his father abuse him, tried to destroy the multiverse, and only got a slap on the wrist!!!!

Honestly, I would have ended the show after Lotor and Team Voltron team up to stop the dictator. Maybe have them fight Haggar too? But Lotor definitely would have been part of the team and help rebuild the universe and marry Princess Allura.

Princess Allura pretty much brought the team together and was the heart of Voltron. She was killed off at the end to restore the universes Haggar destroyed. I'm not sure how it went down because I stopped watching the show after Season 7 but from what I read, it didn't make sense. They also forced Allura together with Lance who she has had no interest in beforehand.

I would have the Voltron lions sacrifice themselves to restore the universe. It would symbolize that their work is done and are no longer needed. Allura lives and continues to explore and help rebuild with her friends and marries Lotor.

5. Mikasa from Attack on Titan

I love Mikasa. And I love Eren x Mikasa. But I do not like how it was handled. Without getting into spoilers, Mikasa evolved her entire life around Eren despite the warnings of living solely for others that are placed throughout the manga/show.

I would have had Mikasa discover that she can love Eren but also live for herself. That it's okay to be a little selfish. She learns how to enjoy life and live to the fullest despite all the heartache and pain. In a sense, she fulfills Eren's dream of being free.

6. Chole from Miraculous Ladybug

Chole was the typical mean girl bullying the protagonist Marinette. It was later revealed that her actions stem from the emotional abuse she receives from her mother. The show flirted with the idea of giving Chole a redemption arc but then reconned it so hard and replaced her with her random half-sister. (What is it with half-sister clones?)

I would rewrite it by Chole not revealing her superhero identity to the public for fame. She does try to milk the position but gradually learns how to become a better person with the help of Ladybug and Team Miraculous.

7. Glitter from Hooves of Death

This is a webtoon about a ragtag team of unicorns and other mythical creatures trying to stop the zombie apocalypse. It's pretty good except for the weird love triangle between Sprinkles, Glitter, and Blaze. Sprinkles acts more like a father figure to Glitter, and Blaze is a freaking incel.

Glitter has made it clear, time and time again, that she's not interested in romance because they're in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Sprinkles had the decency to respect that, but Blaze kept pushing. He sulked and acted petty literally half of the series because Glitter wasn't responding the way he wanted. In one of the recent updates, Sprinkles is comforting Glitter because she has some heavy decisions to make and Blazes yells at them then storms off. So then Glitter goes after him and he yells about caring for her so much, but she never notices him. Typical Nice Guy TM stuff. Then Glitter apologizes to him and agrees to date after the apocalypse.

Um what?

I was so close to dropping the webtoon. Honestly. That was disgusting.

I would rewrite Hooves of Death by having Sprinkles, Glitter, and Blaze act as a found family with Sprinkles as the dad and the others as siblings. This is because at the beginning of the apocalypse, Glitter lost her entire family to the zombies. In this rewrite, she's hesitant to get close to anyone again in fear of losing them but warms up to them over time. I know it's cliche, but it's loads better than this gross love triangle.

Thanks for the ask ❤

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silver-tooth-the-panther · 7 months

Text

Half-Demon! Tanjiro AU

Chapter One:

The End is Only The

Beginning

Warnings: LOTS of angst and quite a bit of violence!

Word Count: 3010

The sun had finally risen over the horizon and it seems that the battle had finally come to an end. The giant infant-like form of Muzan had finally disappeared, leaving the surrounding slayers devastated and wounded. “Lord Kamado! Lord Kamado!” One of the Kakushis yelled as they knelt down beside the form that was Tanjiro Kamado.

The young boy looked like he was on an unconscious state. His head was facing the ground as he sat on his knees. Tanjiro’s remaining arm was limp as he sat there, back facing the sun. Giyuu Tomioka, who had also been severely injured along with many other slayers, took his place in front of the young boy.

“He’s not breathing and he has no pulse!” The Kakushi yelled out in pain. Giyuu’s eyes widened in horror when the news rang in his ears. The others around them weakly looked up at them with the same look of horror. Giyuu fell to his knees and took the remaining hand of the boy. “I’ve failed to protect you again…Forgive me.” He lowered his head in shame. “I always receive protection from others..”

The dam had finally broke as everyone started to mourn Tanjiro’s death. So many lives were lost during the final battle..so many..and his death was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Inosuke and Zenitsu trudge their way towards the young slayer, tears filling their eyes.

Something rumbled within Tanjiro’s body. He slowly started to lift his head up, but nobody noticed due to their grief. “In my place..you must destroy..the demon slayers!” Muzan’s voice rang in Tanjiro’s head as his wound healed and he opened his eyes. They were scarlet..just like Muzan’s.

The young boy immediately swiped Giyuu away from him. The Water Hashira fell back, perplexed as to what was happening. Tanjiro jumped away from the group and roared ferociously. His arm had completely regenerated and he was snarling at them like a hungry beast.

“T..Tanjiro?” Giyuu spoke weakly as he looked upon the boy in absolute terror. Tanjiro raised his regenerated arm to his mouth, wiping off his saliva. “No way..Tanjiro?” Zenitsu winced as he was held up by a Kakushi. Inosuke stared at the boy in disbelief. Tanjiro looked straight at Zenitsu, eyes shining with hunger.

Off in the distance, Nezuko Kamado came running closer and closer to them. Her humanity was flickering within her. Due to Tamayo’s medicine, her body was having a hard time deciding whether or not she was a demon or a human. Nonetheless, she was going to do what she had been doing for the past few years..Defend her brother.

“Oni-chan!” Nezuko called out to her brother as she steadily approached the scene. Tanjiro looked at her and snarled, causing the girl to yelp. “Get back!” Giyuu yelled as he picked up his sword, grunting as pain surged through his body.

Strangely, Tanjiro only stared at the young girl. He looked like he was dazed, like he had no thoughts behind his eyes. Then, the young boy cried out. His roar cut through the skies like a knife through butter. Tears flowed down his face as he struggled to speak. “Grr.ge..get..GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Everyone stopped and stared at him in disbelief. What was going on? Was he fighting back against Muzan’s control? Tanjiro snarled as he looked for a way out. The young boy bolted directly for Nezuko. “No!” Inosuke yelled as he rushed to protect her. Nezuko covered herself with her arms, preparing for the attack.

But the demon did a strange thing. He jumped over both of them, using them as stepping stones, and ran off into the forest. Zenitsu struggled out of the Kakushi’s grasp and landed on his knees. With tears filling his eyes, the blonde watched helplessly as Tanjiro ran. “TANJIRO!!” Zenitsu screamed in agony as the last glimpse of the young slayer disappeared.

The mess that the battle had left was extremely scarring. Many had died and needed to be buried. Kiriya and his sister, Kanata, came to assess the damage. “Where’s young Kamado?” Kiriya asked tiredly as he walked over to where Muzan had been killed.

“He’s gone..” Giyuu had fallen back on his knees, wiping tears from his eyes. “Gone? Do you mean..he’s dead?” Kanata put her hand over her mouth, sickened. “No..He ran..He’s..” Giyuu tried to mutter the awful terrible words. “He’s a demon..”

Kiriya’s eyes darkened as he felt shame overcome him, like a weight inside of his stomach. He shook his head to shake off any haunting thoughts, but it was to no avail. “Forgive me, Tomioka. The losses that have taken place in this battlefield..have destroyed us all..”

“We can’t just sit here and wait for him to come back!” Zenitsu gritted his teeth, turning to face their leader. “We have to go search for him!” Everyone looked at him in awe. Even after all that fighting, he was still willing to get back up. “But we can’t find him like this!” Nezuko cried out, knowing that they would all get killed.

“Miss Kamado is right.” Kiriya inhaled, relief resting in his heart. “We will take you to the Butterfly Estate to heal and recover. In the time being, I will send out tracking teams to search for your friend.” The young leader nodded to the crowd that had perched above them. They cawed before taking off to the woods where Tanjiro was last seen.

Everything looked like a haze to the young boy as he ran. His breathing was irregular and his heartbeat pounded within his chest. However, this was strange. Demons weren’t supposed to breathe or have heartbeats. Tanjiro collapsed on the floor before roaring in anguish.

“Why are you fighting me, boy?” A familiar, demonic voice echoed through Tanjiro’s mind. “Grrr..GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” The boy screeched, digging his sharp claws into the bark of a nearby tree. “You are mine, boy! You will fulfill my dream!”

Tanjiro then saw himself in the black and empty battlefield. There was nothing here, no movement, no light, no sound, nothing. “Is this my mind?” Tanjiro asked himself as he looked up. The boy’s eyes widened when he saw Muzan in his final form. The demon king was panting, tired from the war. “You..will be..MINE!”

His ferocious whips went straight in for the kill. Tanjiro thought he was helpless. There was no one here who could help him. However, he noticed how the whips were much slower than they were and took a fight stance. With great precision and strength, Tanjiro deflected the sharp whips.

Muzan’s eyes widened in shock before quickly reverted back to a furious expression. “So this is how you want to be..fine!” Muzan flung his whips more and more at the young boy, but it didn’t seem to do any good. Tanjiro quickly deflected the whips and only edged closer to Muzan. “I’m not giving up my body to you!”

Days passed without a hint of Tanjiro’s whereabouts. Everyone at the Butterfly Estate started to grow weary as more and more time passed. Naho, Kiyo, and Sumi tried their best to raise everyone’s spirits. Even Aoi tried making a special feast to relieve their tension, but nothing worked.

Inosuke usually passed the time by wandering around the mansion or training, but he didn’t speak a word. For the boar, this was incredibly worrisome. Normally, he couldn’t stay quiet, but the disappearance of his friend..seemed to break him.

Zenitsu ended up taking Tanjiro’s disappearance the worst though. He usually had the door to his temporary room locked. He hardly ever came out to interact with the world around him, so much so that he began to starve himself, saying “It just doesn’t feel the same without him here.”

Nezuko tried her best to help everyone’s spirits alongside the girls, but her efforts failed. Her body was still teeter tottering between being a demon or a human, which exhausted the poor girl. She mourned for her brother every night that he wasn’t there to hold her hand. Nezuko often wondered if this pain would ever end.

After three days of Tanjiro’s absence, a crow flew by the Butterfly Estate. Since everyone was waiting impatiently for any news, they noticed the bird immediately. “Caw! Caw!” The bird screeched. “The master has news! The master has news!” Aoi opened the front door of the mansion and let the bird rest on her shoulder.

“What’s the news?” Aoi asked tiredly. She felt drained like all the others, but she did get a small sense of hope. “There haven’t been any unexplained human deaths in the past three days! Caw!” Aoi’s eyes widened. “There..there hasn’t?”

Unbeknownst to her, Nezuko was listening intently from the right hallway. All she wanted was just a little bit of good news about her brother. She craned her neck closer, intrigued by the bird’s words.

“That is correct! Young Kamado’s whereabouts are still unknown, but the tracking teams are working hard to find him!” The crow cawed as it preened its wing. “I see..thank you.” Aoi’s voice sounded both relieved and anxious. She was glad that no more had died, but she was still deeply worried about Tanjiro.

“Rumor has it that he’s fighting back for control of his body! Caw!” Aoi looked at the crow with a dull expression. “Do you think he’ll succeed?” She asked. “Beats me!” The crow shook his wings and flew off into the sky. “Well, that was helpful.”

Nezuko couldn’t believe what she just heard. The fact that her brother hasn’t eaten in days both worries her, yet relieved her. She was glad to know that her brother was fighting for his body, but she was also terrified for him. She shook her head and immediately ran off to see Zenitsu.

Everything in the mansion felt cold and dead as Nezuko ran past it all. She stuck out like a warm color on a painting of the ocean. She halted once she reached Zenitsu’s door and knocked lightly. “Who is it?” A tired and empty voice called to her. “It’s me, Zenitsu.” Light footsteps could be heard from the other side before the door lock clicked open.

Zenitsu looked at Nezuko with a deadpan stare as he opened the door. The poor child had severe bags under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep, and he looked like he lost a few pounds. “Nezuko, is something wrong?” The young girl shook her head. “Not with me.”

“What do you mean by that?” He tilted his head slightly, perplexed. Nezuko sighed then forcefully entered the dark room. “Hey! I-“ Zenitsu protested against this, but quickly realized that there was no use. The room was almost completely dark. It was a wonder how he could even see in here.

Papers littered the hardwood floor, making the floor appear nonexistent. However, the letters by Zenitsu’s mangled up futon caught her attention. The young girl went over to the ratted futon and picked up a rather nicely written letter. It was from her brother..

Tanjiro had sent this letter to Zenitsu when he was training at the Swordsmith Village. This one in particular was about Tanjiro’s curiosity about Genya. Tear marks stained the paper, forever etched like time. Nezuko turned sympathetically back to see the blonde, who was fiddling with his haori sleeves nervously. “Zen..”

“I-I’m sorry, Nezuko.” Zenitsu’s golden eyes couldn’t contain the sorrow he felt any longer. The blonde fell to his knees and sobbed into his hands. Nezuko immediately rushed towards him, wrapping her arms around him like a mother. “It’s okay, Zenitsu. I miss him too.” She tried to speak soothingly, choking back tears of her own.

“They’re going to kill him, Nezuko! I know it!” Zenitsu sobbed into her chest. “Once they find him, they’re going to kill him!” Nezuko’s expression only softened even more. “Zenitsu, what makes you think that they’ll kill him?” The blonde looked up at her, golden eyes flowing like waterfalls. “You saw what happened to him! He’s a demon! He’s probably killed over fifty people by now!”

Nezuko shook her head. “No, Zenitsu. He hasn’t killed anyone.” The young girl wiped away some of his tears. “What do you mean?” Zenitsu asked in a confused tone. “Well, a crow came by earlier today and told Aoi that there haven’t been any unexpected human deaths as of recent.”

“Really?” Zenitsu sniffled. “Do you think that..” He cut himself off before he finished the sentence. Zenitsu didn’t really believe that Tanjiro could conquer Muzan’s control completely on his own. “He might be able to, Zenitsu. We don’t know for sure, but I have a good feeling about this.” Nezuko disagreed.

Zenitsu looked around at the messy, dark room. He breathed deeply and looked back at Nezuko. “Don’t worry.” Nezuko smiled reassuringly. “We’ll bring him home.” Zenitsu returned the smile. “Alright.” Nezuko took his hand gently and helped him out of his cage.

The endless fighting was beginning to wear on both Muzan and Tanjiro. They grew more exhausted with every whip and slash they threw at each other. As the time passed, Muzan only grew more agitated. “How dare you resist me?! I can make you immortal!” Muzan roared ferociously as he flung three spiked whips at the slayer.

“That’s at the cost of human life! I’d rather die than kill anyone else!” Tanjiro yelled as the whips wrapped around his sword. Muzan tightened them, hoping to break his sword. However, this action failed and the whips only turned to dust. “What?!” The demon king roared, enraged.

This gave Tanjiro the opportunity to attack. He quickly ran towards the demon king, sword aiming at his neck. Solar flames burned from the sword as it sliced Muzan from the crook of his neck and down to his belly. “Crap!” Tanjiro gritted his teeth as he jumped back. “Grrragh!” Muzan growled in pain as he gripped his chest.

“You will pay for this..” Muzan snarled as he tried to run at Tanjiro. The young slayer prepared for an attack…when Muzan’s feet turned to dust underneath him. The demon king fell with a grunt at Tanjiro’s feet. He sat himself up on his elbows and looked back to see his body turning to dust.

“What did you do to me?!” Muzan roared angrily, trying to swipe at Tanjiro’s ankles. The young slayer quickly backed away when a sudden chill filled the air around them. Metal scraping the floor could be heard in the distance. Tanjiro looked around the empty, black environment for the source of the sound.

Muzan’s eyes widened in pure terror. “No! NO! I’m still fighting! I’m not done yet!” The demon king wasn’t yelling at Tanjiro, but to whatever was in the distance. “What’s happening?” Tanjiro asked himself. This was all too confusing for him.

“He’s come for me..”

Four hooks, that seemed to be on chains, emerged from the darkness and pierced the demon king right in the chest. Muzan screeched as he tried to claw away to safety, but it was no use. Tanjiro fell back, watching the gruesome scene. He looked up to try to see what this thing was.

All he could see was a bright, blinding red light. The chains started to retreat back into the darkness, dragging Muzan with them. The demon king screamed as he was being dragged away and he left claw marks from when he was trying to escape.

Muzan’s screaming was cut off as soon as he wasn’t visible. Tanjiro gasped in horror, having no clue what he just witnessed. Ash flew by the young slayer as he stood up and looked directly in the red light. The light then started to envelop the environment. Tanjiro tried to cover his eyes from the blinding light, but it quickly overcame him.

The young slayer’s eyes flickered open as he woke up. The sun was shining brightly upon him and he put his hand up to block it. “Wha-what happened?” Tanjiro said softly to himself as he tried to regain his balance.

He stood up and immediately hit his head on a thick tree branch. “Ow..” Tanjiro rubbed his head. He looked around his surroundings. The young slayer quickly found himself next to an abandoned shed and a small pond on the outskirts of a nearby town.

“I..I need to get back.” Tanjiro panted weakly as he turned to run back. However, the tired boy only tripped over his feet and nearly fell into the pond. “That was a close on-“ Tanjiro stated at his reflection. Instead of seeing a scar where his right eye was poisoned, he saw two scarlet demon eyes staring back at him.

Tanjiro yelped and fell backwards. He crawled away from the reflection as if it were a vicious beast. This can’t be happening! This must be a dream! The young slayer raised his hand and felt around his upper jaw. Low and behold, he felt two small fangs where his human canines should’ve been.

The young slayer’s head felt like it was spinning. He couldn’t believe what was happening! Was he really a demon? If so, why isn’t he attacking everything around him? He tried to stand up once again, almost tripping on the same branch he hit..and must’ve broken.

Tanjiro leaned against the shed for support. He looked at the rusted door..which he was taller than? There’s no way he should be taller than a door! Granted, it wasn’t one of the common sliding doors, but it was still a door! His breathing only grew heavier with each passing second.

Wait, breathing? Demons weren’t supposed to breathe! Tanjiro put his index finger on the bottom of his wrist. There he felt..a pulse! What was going on? What happened when Muzan was defeated? He had no clue. Tanjiro raised his hands in front of his face, seeing sharp demon claws on every callused finger.

“What am I?”

Author’s Note: This is the first of many chapters of my AU! This has been my comfort AU for quite a long time and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! The first few chapters may be quite angsty, but I promise that it’ll get more comforting soon.

#half-demon! tanjiro au #demon slayer #demon slayer tanjiro #tanjiro kamado #kimetsu no yaiba #kny nezuko #nezuko kamado #demon slayer nezuko #zenitsu agatsuma #kny zenitsu #demon slayer zenitsu #kny inosuke #inosuke hashiriba #demon slayer inosuke #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu

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incomingalbatross · 9 months

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Hey, I hope you're doing well.

So, I was minding my business when I began wondering about Catholic Bat Family again. At what point would Jason go to Lourdes? Would Lourdes be the first step on his journey back to the faith, or would it be the last step with Bruce right beside him?

Also, I feel like the stuff with Jason would get resolved before Damian shows up and before Identity Crisis (aka when Bruce gets stuck in the time stream), so as to wrap up one issue before going forward. Can you imagine Jason becoming the spiritual leader of the Wayne household by keeping an eye on Tim and bringing Dick fully into the faith?

And finally, your idea for Selina fits extremely well with her character.

Again, thanks for everything you do and God bless you!

Hey! I am doing well, thank you for asking. :) Hope you are too.

Good questions! I guess I'd put it somewhere in the middle? I feel that if you're making a trip like that, you've already taken some steps back to the Faith—you know, if you're already secure enough in it to go looking to Mary for healing. On the other hand, I like the idea of this being a personal pilgrimage Jason undertakes. Maybe one last thing which brings him enough wholeness that he feels he can truly, fully rejoin his family when he comes home? But after the reconciliation has begun.

(Though there is something to be said for Lourdes as Jason's first step—if you imagine him so desperate and tired of his anger/confusion/suffering that he's grasping at the straws of faith he has, running to the only chance he can see... That is also compelling.)

This might say something about the place the fandom was in when I started reading Batfam fic (I'm really not sure :P), but I personally like Bruce's "death" as a pile-up of maximum dysfunction for the whole family. So I personally wouldn't resolve Jason's issues before that? But that's my preference, you're free to construct your own scenario!!

I like putting Dick's conversion during Bruce's "death" as a fruit of his grief, because with his rock suddenly gone from his world he has to find a new rock... and he ends up finally discovering for himself the one Bruce built his own life on. And then Damian can go to RCIA with Dick and be drawn in by both Bruce's absent example and Dick's present one—they can grow together, just like they do as Batman and Robin!

I'm not sure what Jason's spiritual state is during this period (I mean, canonically I'm pretty sure it's Bad, but in THIS retelling :P), but I think it would make sense for him to hit a crisis point during or soon after this that starts pushing him back toward the Faith. I personally like Dick leading the way for the family's various conversions/reconciliations, BUT I am all for Jason outstripping him at some point as he regains his faith and is able to add another cradle-Catholic perspective to the household! (AND rediscovers his vocation!)

...I still haven't decided what's up with Tim. I think he might be the hardest nut to crack in this whole family. :P

And I'm really glad you liked my Selina thoughts!

Thank you again for your asks! God bless!

#asks #francisofgotham1 #catholic batfamily

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donald-is-my-man · 2 years

Photo

I believe this phrase defines Ressler better than any other told by any other characters, including Red.

And oh, did you catch the The Wonderful Wizard of Oz reference in Red's words? Hint, Tin Woodman, hint.

There’s something haunting about the way this phrase is told by Reddington. Not only because Red truly knows what it means because he’s experienced many losses along his way (and, subsequently, much of those were inflicted by him, directly or not), but also because this phrase captures the essence of Donald.

Grief. He’s starting his way in life with a loss and grief for his father, then—his brother, though it’s estrangement rather than death. Another loss nonetheless. He loses Audrey—not once, actually. Twice. I’m not sure whether Red (I mean, he knew everything about Donald, including the break-up with Audrey, so it’s quite possible he might’ve guessed she’d come back at some point in Don’s life) predicted Audrey coming back to Ressler, but indirectly he’s complicit of her death as well.

The last significant loss in Donald’s life would be Liz. I won’t go into debates about her and Donald and argue the one-sided nature of their connection. My opinion is based is solely on how I interpret Donald’s actions and language. Her death has crippled Donald. A final straw after which he hits the rock bottom, and reaches the point of self-hatred where nothing matters. His life, feelings, Reddington (yeah, take it or leave it, but the guy’d been a part of his life since the moment that file had landed on Donald’s desk), his job. What’s the point of fighting, protecting the innocents, what’s the point of doing good if he can’t save those he cares for and about?

Old habits are hard to break... But he’d never really broken them, hadn’t he? He’s way too good at hiding what’s beneath, where his most intimate desires, aches, and fear lie. Look with what ease he’s crushing those pills with the glass. And how effortlessly he lies to the doctors, who are completely oblivious. They see a man who needs help, not an addict. And he gets another fix. And another.

Everyone can see he’s hurting but let’s be honest—no one tries to actually make him sit and talk. Yes, they do offer their shoulder to cry on and confess, but... Honestly, it’s like standing on the shore and offering the drowning man a life jacket.

It takes Donald lots of will power and perseverance to be back from the abyss. He’s back, his inner self damaged and bruised. He’s picking up the pieces of himself. But Donald is crippled no more—he is slowly coming to terms with the fact that sometimes you lose. You lose this or that fight, you lose someone. It happens. Life happens. Can’t do anything about it. But to feel—or not to feel, be numb and silent, for that matter—is also alright. We're all humans, we all are designed to feel things. Nothing to be ashamed of.

I know there are good people out there. People I could connect with. People I should connect with. But I don’t. I can’t. Not yet, anyway.

Tin Woodman was looking for the heart, hoping the Wizard would gift it to him.

Donald, after so many years of deliberate ignorance of his own heart, has finally uncovered it.

And hopefully, he’ll find a way how to live with it.

#donald ressler #ressler meta&essay #gifs

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verycrowindeed · 1 year

Text

The legend of the man from Covaspo

Howdy!! It's Crow here!! So i've been thinking lately and i've decided that i want to share with you all a little something i wrote a while ago.

Some context: This legend is a tiny part of the lore of a bigger story that my friend and I are writing. Everything is completly fictional and it contains upsettling themes (See the tags)

With that already said, here's the story

They entered to her website and were greeted with a big text, all in red, that seemed to talk about the old legend of the man who founded the city, a legend that was, of course, a simple horror story that some teens probably made up some decades ago, and that for some reason was passed from generation to generation as a way to scare little kids,

"Of course" -Sinno thought- "If anyone on earth would actually believe in this shit , it had to be Hela".

.The first man in Covaspo.

They say that a man whose surname was Covaspo was the founder of this town.

He, his wife and his two baby twins used to live in an unknown city, where their monetary situation was worse each day, and the Covaspo family lived in absolute poverty and misery, so one day, he decided to run away with his family to a place far, far away, where they could forget about all their problems and start anew.

After many hours of driving they found a place in the middle of nowhere, so they built a house near water well, and they started a new life there, where no one could bother them.

And that could be the end of the story, but then that man and that old well would mean nothing today, and we all know it isn't like that, because it turns out that Covaspo and his wife (of whom we don't know the name) were really good people, and so they decided to invite some close family to live with them in what they called "The Covaspo Community", the word started spreading and what once was a little community formed by family and friends gathered around a well, slowly became a small village, and then a town.

And so, the city we all know and love today, was born. Or at least that's all they teach us in school and in books, but they refuse to let us know what happened to Mr Covaspo's family after that.

Well, to make it simple for everyone, the man went nuts.

So, you see, Covaspo had run away from his old life in the city to finally be able to take a breathe and have a peaceful time the last years of his life, not to accidentally become a Mayor in a city he accidentally created, so that caused him some stress, and, in the top of that, protection wasn't exactly a thing back then, so he had more kids.

His wife announcing her 5th pregnancy was the last straw for him.

The night after she gave birth, everyone gathered at the church to bless the newborn and to pray for his health while the mother stayed in her mother in law's house, who would take care of her and the baby the first month, as it was the tradition back then.

Mr Covaspo stayed at home, taking care of his other kids, because at that time people believed that the man was the strongest one in the relationship, so he had to manage the kids while his fragile baby and spouse where resting. Everything seemed to be normal, the kids where playing and laughing and yelling -As kids usually do-, until suddenly there was complete silence.

It turns out that it was really late at night, and Mr Covaspo couldn't stand all the noise, so he came up with an amazing solution, with a kitchen knife he slitted all the four kid's throats open and they all bled to death.

After that, Covaspo was never seen again.

A week after the incident, miss Covaspo, was found dead in the city well, some say the grief and fear was too much for her so she decided to take her own life, some others claim that it was Covaspo who came back to finish his job, but nobody knows for sure what happened (But, if you ask me, i think it wouldn't make sense for it to be covaspo's revenge, because then why wouldn't he also kill the baby, his fifth son??)"

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

At the end of the publication there was a "Do you want to cite this?" link that when you clicked it, it showed this little window to copy and paste in whatever you wanted to, if for some reason you really, really wanted to quote this crazy girl

"De Covaspo, Hela. "The first man in Covaspo." Aug. 28, 2000, find more about this in my website; Hela's Magic World."

Okay! I hope you guys liked it and if you did, please reblog this!!!

#tw blood #tw murder #tw violence #tw death #original fiction #fiction #hqlmns #'till death do us part #oc

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thesaintofnevergettingitright · 1 year

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Oh thank god, I actually came up with an idea for the steddie bigbang. I was so scared I was gonna sign up and then freeze.

(brainstorm word vomit beneath the cut if anyone’s curious lol)

it’s not fully flushed out yet, but I’m thinking of going with an

~*~Orpheus/Eurydice Retelling~*~

I feel like the whole “drag your one true love out of hell but if you look at them you’ll both DIE” thing has very Steddie energy, ya know??

BUT I want Steve to be motivated mostly by Dustin and Lucas’s grief (at first)

cuz I think that Dustin would take Eddie’s death HARD. Like harder than the end of the last season would have us believe

especially since I’m thinking that, after Dustin tells him that Eddie’s gone, Wayne leaves Hawkins because he can’t stand being alone in the familiar place with all the memories etc. (which is very fair and valid)

but I think losing that one connection to Eddie would be the last straw for Dustin’s poor traumatized soul

Meanwhile Max isn’t snapping out of her coma and with every day that goes by, Lucas gets more and more withdrawn.

It gets to the point where Lucas isn’t talking to ANYONE and is spending every waking moment in the hospital. It’s unhealthy.

and so both Dustin and Lucas are getting more and more consumed by grief and Steve can see it happening and feels totally helpless to do anything

so he gets more and more desperate to find a way to FIX IT because the only thing he’s ever been able to do right is to TAKE CARE of these kids and now he’s FAILING

and the harder he tries to help, the harder Dustin pushes him away and the further Lucas retreats into himself

until finally Dustin lashes out in some way and blames Steve for everything that went wrong and says something hurtful (cuz he’s a deeply traumatized and grief-stricken child.)

and Lucas stops eating or sleeping and starts sneaking out of the house to spend even MORE time at the hospital

no! I lied! actually what Lucas starts doing is spending more and more time sleeping and no one really understands why (other than standard grief reasons)

finally Erica gets so worried that she goes to steve for help

So steve and erica (and robin because she and steve are a package deal) research the upside down and mythology and D&D and theoretical science and whatever else they can to try to find a way to make everything BETTER (I think Steve is claiming that he’s mostly focused on Max and getting her back, but he’s fully willing to do whatever it takes to get eddie back for dustin, including fucked up magic or sacrificing himself or WHATEVER)

this results in them adding eleven and will to the research crew cuz they need Upside Down experts

(I was thinking nancy might be a part of the research team, but actually maybe the wheelers leave town? In fact I think Nancy herself might pressure her parents into leaving for they sake of Holly’s safety? And mike would probably flat-out refuse to leave and end up staying with the Byers-Hopper clan, but I think Nancy would be haunted enough by Vecna’s vision that she’d do whatever it took to keep her family safe)

And they keep coming up empty on the research until Steve finds Eddie’s D&D notes for the campaign he was planning on running after they defeated Vecna

it was going to be a home-brew based on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, but tweaked to fit better into D&D rules/logic, where the goal of the campaign was to save a god and a goddess who were trapped between worlds

Eddie based his version on the orpheus/eurydice myth, d&d lore, and some satanic rituals he’d found while searching for new ways to antagonize the entire town lmao.

so robin/erica/steve end up retracing eddie’s steps in all of this research and suddenly Steve “The Hair” Harrington easily knows more about Satanism and like pagan magic than anyone else in Hawkins, probably INCLUDING eddie

somewhere in the middle of all this, steve starts dreaming about eddie and, at first, he thinks it’s just because he’s been thinking about him so much from retracing his steps. But then he starts feeling like the conversations he’s having with dream!eddie are feeling more and more real....

anyway they discover that the main difference between the original myth an the version Eddie came up with is that it would take TWO people to save each trapped god: a rescuer and an anchor

the anchor would help keep the rescuer connected to the “real”/mortal/whatever world, and the rescuer had to have a strong bond with both the person getting rescued AND the anchor

in the campaign, the “rescuer” was going to be determined by prophetic dreams getting sent to specific players, but they all write that off as just part of the game and figure all that’s needed is a strong bond.

so the plan is to send in El to rescue Max with Will acting as her anchor

they all wish they could do something to save eddie, but the focus is on max right now because she’s the one they KNOW is stuck between worlds

and steve and Erica both feel unsure about this plan, but Steve is used to trusting that his friends are smarter and doesn’t even know why he’s so unsure so he’s willing to go along with it...

but it turns out Erica was less willing to just go along with it and has essentially tattled to Dustin about the plan so before they can start the ~ritual~ or whatever, Lucas and Dustin burst through the door yelling incoherently

they’ve discovered two things:

1) it turns out that Lucas has been sleeping so much because he’s been having the same kind of dreams Steve has, but about Max

this prompts Steve to share his dreams with the group, saying that maybe this means that Eddie is actually alive, which Dustin agrees with and adds

2) it’s not just “any” strong bond that will work for the rescuee/rescuer/anchor bonds. Eddie’s notes were right, the rescuer has to be the person receiving dreams about the person stuck in the in-between, and the rescuer/anchor bond has to be FAMILIAL

so this means Eddie is out there and savable, because Steve is having dreams about him. No one really seems to understand WHY that bond manifested between Steve and Eddie, but they just have to roll with it

Lucas and steve are officially the Rescuers(TM)

then dustin gets this stricken look on his face cuz he realizes that Erica can be Lucas’s anchor, but there’s no one to anchor steve cuz his family sucks. so dustin starts insisting that steve shouldn’t go in cuz he’d just get lost along with eddie and that’s not what eddie would want and dustin doesn’t think he’d make it through losing steve too and and and and.....

and then steve shuts him up with a big hug and says something like “what are you talking about? I’ve got my whole family right here, including the world’s most annoying little brother.” *cue dustin sobbing*

just to be safe, both robin AND dustin step in as steve’s anchors

*insert emotional trip through the In Between (which I’ve decided is the name of the place Max and Eddie are stuck in)*

they make it out and there are a lot of very emotional reunions etc. etc. but for some reason eddie is avoiding eye contact with steve

That’s right we’re not done! now it’s time for part 2: just miscommunication and falling in love

so things are kinda awkward and tense between steve and eddie, especially when it’s determined that the smartest thing to do is to get eddie out of town while hopper works on clearing his name and creating a story for How Eddie Munson Isn’t Dead

Which means it’s time for my favorite trope: Road Trip to Murray’s!

Steve insists on coming along with Eddie, not trusting eddie not to disappear again, plus he wants to know why eddie’s been so weird around him ever since they got out of the In Between, plus it makes the most sense: he has a car, and his parents are never home so no one will notice that he’s gone for an extended period of time

When he finally demands eddie tells him what’s going on, turns out eddie is furious that steve risked his life to try to save him. like FUMING. and steve is so confused and distressed because he thought they were really connecting, hell he even thought he might be catching feelings for him....

then eddie doesn’t want steve to feel like he’s responsible for him or like he owes him anything etc. etc.

basically eddie is doing everything he can to push steve away, seemingly under the assumption that steve is there out of obligation

finally, Murray reveals that he’s been snooping through eddie’s stuff and whips out a piece of paper. It’s an as-yet-unknown secret missing page from Eddie’s D&D notes that the gang never found. Turns out the twist of the campaign was going to be something Eddie discovered in his research: the bond/the dreams only work between soulmates (ohmygod the were soulmates)

turns out eddie’s been functioning under the assumption that the soulmate bond went one way, cuz steve is straight (obvs), and thinks that the rescue only worked because he was so pathetically in love with steve, it made up for the deficit

Murray points out that this is stupid

steve also points out that this is stupid

they make out about it

some other stuff happens but that’s the most important parts

the end

#steddie #stranger things #steddie big bang #mine #don't mind me I got an idea in my head and I wasn't gonna be able to function until I got it out

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curseofbreadbear · 2 years

Text

GIVE ME A TOPIC & I’LL WRITE A META! || ALWAYS ACCEPTING! || @flaggedred

flaggedred asked: OKAY I FINALLY DECIDED FOR THE META THING…….. Maikohl + The Afton Family

OH, THIS IS A GOOD ONE.

Now, bear (haha) in mind: Michael has KNOWN the Aftons - or rather, William Afton -- since he was a kid. William has been considered part of his family for a LONG time, not just when his mother remarried and Michael became his step-kid.

That being the case, Michael had an idealized view of William (as did his younger siblings) when he was younger. William was referred to as "Uncle Will," and the kids would happily treat him as such. None of them ever caught onto who he really was until it was too late. When Charlie died, Michael was none the wiser to who it could've been. All he knew at the time was that his sister was gone, and his family was irrevocably broken.

There was one thing that struck him around the time of Charlie’s death, though; William seemed to be both his father and his mother’s shoulder to cry on. That wasn’t such a strange thing in and of itself, as William was a beloved family friend; what bugged him was that his parents never grieved with each other. They were the ones who shared each other’s grief in the exact same way, and yet they were never open with each other about it the way they were with William.

In other words, Michael witnessed -- in little ways, each and every passing day -- his mother slowly gravitating towards William, and away from his father. For a long time, he didn't think anything of it. William was still their family, after all, and Henry was isolating himself more and more with each passing day. At the time, it made perfect sense for her to rely on him for comfort instead.

Then "the bite" happened, and once again, their world was destroyed...because of Michael. Henry lost himself in his grief, renouncing his defective machines and blaming Michael for his loss (as much as he tried to hold himself back from doing so). His mother discovered what Henry was up to in his workshop, the bots he was creating to perpetuate his denial, and they divorced within the year. She took Michael with her.

Michael wasn't all that surprised when they moved in with William. At first, he was even grateful to his "Uncle Will" for being so generous -- but then he saw his mother kiss William for the first time, and it all started to sink in. He felt sick once he realized what really might have been happening behind the scenes. His family had been falling apart for a long time, but this felt like the last straw.

[TW: PHYSICAL & EMOTIONAL ABUSE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, CHILD ABUSE]

Elizabeth was born a year into their lives together, but that year was about the furthest thing from peaceful. Now that they were under his roof, William enabled himself to vent every frustration he had against his mother, and he took every liberty to hit and belittle her. During those first few months, when Michael believed that William was a good man deep down, he would jump into the fray to try and protect her. William didn't hesitate to hurt him instead, much to their shared horror.

From there, the household became one of tension-filled torment; nobody knew when William would snap, and when he did, his harm was indiscriminate. Michael avoided going home at all costs. As much as he hated to admit it (as his mother was a victim in all of this, too), he started to resent her for falling for Afton's tricks. He resented himself for the same thing. How could either of them believed he was a good person? Why did his mother stay?

His question, in part, was answered when his mother announced that she was pregnant. William didn't ease up on his abuse because of this news; if anything, it became worse. This new baby was tenure against her, his way of chaining her to him forever. Michael stepped forward more than ever to defend his mom now, even though he was furious about the entire situation.

Again, when Elizabeth was born, matters only worsened. His mother was fragile and broken to her core, and yet William continued to beat and berate her. He even made threats against their infant daughter. Michael often had to step in and care for / protect Elizabeth, young as he was. He was still a kid, but he was more of a parent than either of them, as far as he was concerned.

As such, it was heartbreaking when Elizabeth grew up and got attached to WILLIAM, of all people. Michael feared for her every time that she approached him, and his fears were often validated. She was being raised around a monster, and he was desperate to protect her; still, he failed again and again. There were a number of instances where he had to patch up her scrapes and abrasions from when he hurt her, all while trying to hold back his tears. He wished he could do something, but he was too weak.

[END TW]

And we all know what happened next. William started building / modifying Circus Baby, a creation that was made "for Elizabeth." Elizabeth caught one glimpse of the animatronic and was obsessed, not just wanting to meet her, but wanting to become her. She painted her face to match the clown's, and occasionally wore her hair in pigtails to match. She was fascinated. She wanted to meet Circus Baby so terribly. Alas, when she did...

Well, Michael lost yet another sibling -- and that was his last straw. He confronted William, threw a punch, and was consequently booted from the house. He tells everyone that he moved of his own volition, but in actuality, he was homeless for a good sum of time. Henry getting into contact with him again was sort of a godsend. He wouldn't know what to do with himself otherwise.

#flaggedred #{ IM SO GLAD I GOT A CHANCE TO RAMBLE ABT HIS FAMILY SHIT }{#{ william afton go die forever in ucn challenge }#domestic abuse ///#abuse //#child abuse //#{ i have a warning in there for when it all goes down but JUST IN CASE }#🎬 || there are secrets that will be unwound! (answered.) || 🎬#🎬 || it's make believe inside your head. (headcanons.) || 🎬#🍿 || brave volunteer. (michael.) || 🍿

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limen-lime · 2 years

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what happens at the funeral?

The deaths of Brook Harlow and Nash Sikes shook the Meadows community to its core. Found dead only a month before the centennial celebration of the city's establishment, all eyes were pointed towards the joint memorial service, like the whole town was holding its breath. There were icy fingers locked around the throat of their sheltered community that only the turning of graveyard earth would banish.

The closer that Jack's mother drove to the Lemnos Isle Funeral Home, the more his hands trembled. He chewed his nails. He rubbed the wet spots on his knees, picked blades of grass from the soles of his shoes. A bleak, cavernous sinkhole opened up in the bottom of Jack's stomach and swallowed the last of his courage.

As a cosmic final straw, the crowd gathered out front parted so he could just make out his father's outline against the open funeral home doors. He instinctively reached to cover his right forearm.

John-Edmond Halley Jr. was cut from granite, all sharp lines and cold gray tones. Sheriff of Asphodel Meadows like his father before him and likely to once again sweep the upcoming local elections, he could have broken beneath the weight of a case so gruesome, but instead, Sheriff Halley had weathered the storm and come out on the other side unscathed.

No thanks to the spiraling mental health of his only son.

"He's just worried about you," Martha reassured her son and reached across to squeeze the hand clamped over his forearm. "We just have to get through today, alright? Just one more day."

Jack had been telling himself the same thing since he woke up in the forest covered in the blood of his two best friends. One more breath, one more step, one more hour, one more day. Like the rest of the town, Martha Halley was clinging to the hope that spreading some dirt over two caskets would banish whatever darkness had taken two of Asphodel's sons.

Bury a box, kill a wolf.

They still hadn't caught the monster responsible. Jack was half convinced they never would. A small part of him feared that it would be there today, that it would walk among them, right onto that hallowed ground. That it would look him in the eye and smile a wolfish grin.

"Say it for me," Martha asked him softly. "I need to hear you say it."

Jack looked into her eyes and saw his own fears and sleepless nights reflected back at him. He may have inherited some of his father's flinty exterior, but underneath, he was Martha's son, all the way to the bottom of that sinkhole. "Just one more day."

They approached the funeral home together. Heads turned, voices lowered. A few people offered their condolences, but Jack couldn't help but wonder how many of them asked themselves, as he did, why he'd been spared. Anyone whose eyes lingered for too long met Martha's motherly fury.

For his part, Jack was trapped in a forest of swaying black trees. Head down, eyes focused on one step at a time - "just one more day" echoed like a promise through the yawning pit in his gut - he only caught movement in the corners of his vision. And with every breath he expected to find a wolf staring back at him through the black-clad branches and bark jagged grief.

The forest funneled him toward the doors, toward his father. His breathing quickened. His pulse spiked.

"Deep breaths," Martha whispered, but he could not hear her over the sound of the moving trees.

He was lost in the murmuring rush of leaves. Somewhere in the depths of the forest, a howl shattered the night air. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and the wild thing inside his own mind said, "Run! Run!"

Jack twisted his arm from his mother's grasp, turned on his heel, and bolted. He could just hear her voice calling after him as he fled, but he could not stop himself. He had to get away.

John-Edmond put an arm around his wife's shoulders and said, "Go on in. I'll get him."

Previous and Next

#chapter one #7

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greywoodrpg · 7 months

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𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕒𝕦𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕖

he was born thirty years ago, is a werewolf and lives in white oaks as a carpenter, and is in no pack. he looks an awful lot like reilly dolman.

“I’ve made my mind a sunless place… I share my dreams with ghosts.”

tw: addiction, alcoholism, death

It seems a universal truth that families are complicated, but for the Baudelaires ‘complicated’ was never even the half of it. Asher doesn’t look back fondly on his childhood; it is fraught with contradicting memories–spatterings of artificial normalcy punctuated by the glaring absence of the ‘hero’ father his older brother worshipped, the same man his beloved mother used to cry herself to sleep over in an empty bed most nights–the stuff of grade A organic daddy issues. There were happy times, of course–there always are–but as Roman’s service to the country pulled him away more and more often those became fewer and further between. Even when distance was no longer a hurdle, the drug and alcohol fueled downward spiral on which Roman relied as he attempted to weather his trauma and adjust to civilian life left little room for nurturing relationships with his children, and Asher more so than the others struggled to bond with the man. The dad Asher and his siblings had known from better days was gone, replaced by a broken one with a whiskey bottle in his hand. He was a mama’s boy through and through; one with little patience or forgiveness in his heart for the angry, drunk stranger in the house. His parents eventual divorce was a blessing. While his mother never would say what the final straw was, something about her was different after that night, and Asher drew his own conclusions…they were not generous ones. For a time things got better. Carina found love again with a good man who was kind to her children and happy to fill the void Roman had left as a husband and a father. Asher and his stepfather connected in a way that he never could with his own dad, and for the first time in ages he had a taste of what a happy family was supposed to feel like. It was short lived. Tragedy took it all away in an instant.

Asher was devastated, and gutted by his grief surrendered to the same poisons he had spent his whole childhood hating his own father for turning to in his darkest hours. A propensity for addiction, as it turns out, runs in the family. Though a promising student and athlete with a bright future ahead of him, he soon dropped out of school and began taking up odd jobs and construction work around town to support his habits. Despite his struggles, Asher was still functional enough on the job sites to catch the attention of one of the master carpenters who soon convinced the young man to sign on as his helper and apprentice. It turned out to be a saving grace; steady work and invaluable skills were only the beginning. Asher had a real talent for the craft, and a mentor who genuinely wished to see him succeed. In a few short years–and thanks in no small part to the support of his siblings–he managed to get his substance abuse under control, while simultaneously building a reputation for himself as a tradesman. Renovation projects and prime work in some of Greywood’s most affluent neighborhoods were continuously flowing his way, and Asher’s life seemed to be getting back on track.

That proverbial train derailed in spectacular fashion one fateful night when Asher was working late on a secluded cabin-build far in the rural outskirts of town. The last of the crew to leave, he’d been packing up his truck, music blaring though his headphones as usual. He never even saw it coming. What Asher remembers of the attack is mostly a blur, but one thing is clear in his mind: The face staring back at him when he regained consciousness was Roman’s. It had been an accident, his father swore. Asher wasn’t certain what to believe, but keeping the secret seemed in everyone’s best interests; after all, families are complicated. In the subsequent months everything began to unravel. Like his father, Asher had been infected with lycanthropy…and like his father, he sought comfort in the bottom of a bottle. Sobriety went out the window with the first full moon, much to the chagrin and disappointment of the people in his life who had worked so hard to help him attain it the first time around. Ironically, there is only one person in Asher’s family who could truly understand what he is going through. That has been perhaps the most bitter pill to swallow about the whole ordeal.

Existence as a werewolf has been a rough adjustment, and unlike many of his brethren Asher has not embraced what he has become. He keeps to himself in that regard, intentionally avoiding the known pack gathering places in town, and shifting in solitude on full moons as far from civilization as he can manage. Asher lives in a fixer-upper he hasn’t quite gotten around to fixing up in the working class White Oaks neighborhood, and his ongoing struggles with alcoholism and substance abuse have been a noticeable drag on his once thriving carpentry business. Anger, bitterness, depression, and grief have whittled away much of the person Asher used to be; or perhaps they have only revealed what he has truly been all along. Asher Baudelaire finds himself becoming more his father’s son every day, though what that ultimately means for them both remains to be seen.

“what power did he attain when settling in greywood?”

Greywood bestowed upon Asher a constant companion of sorts…for better or worse. Asher calls her “Fig”; for what he perceives to be a figment of his imagination. After all, he is the only one who can see her, or hear her on those rare occasions she deigns to speak. She appears to him as a teenaged girl and is always with him–always–day and night, haunting every waking moment and his dreams as well; an inescapable presence. It’s enough to make a man believe he’s going mad. For the most part Fig communicates non-verbally with Asher, though she has been known to use words sparingly. She cannot touch or be touched, or otherwise manipulate the physical world, but she knows the truth in people’s hearts and will usually convey her approval/disapproval for him. It isn’t uncommon for residents of Greywood to find Asher seemingly carrying on a one-sided conversation with himself, which is a fair assumption given that he has only told a few trusted confidants about Fig. He frequently becomes frustrated with her presence and wishes she would leave him alone.

penned by... chell

#supernatural rp #town rp #oc rp #literate rp #para rp #horror rp #mystery rp #mature rp #werewolf #reilly dolman fc #addiction tw #alcoholism tw #death tw #retired

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allgather · 1 year

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@chidoried asked me: tell me all about minato's disillusionment with the shinobi system after all his team’s deaths.

minato is already grasping at straws to carry on after obito and rin, to get up in the morning and take on the role of teacher and hokage. but he stays in the village, stays as hokage to be there for kakashi. he lives for a hope for the future that kakashi & kushina & the family he wants to make together with her. he can live on that hope. as long as he can protect kakashi, he can survive. barely, he is suffering, weighed down by unspeakable grief and loss, but he has a child he vowed to look out for who still needs him.

but if he lost kakashi. oh my god, he already failed him so much. he had one thing he needed to do and he couldn’t keep him safe, couldn’t keep him from losing the boy to his grief, from taking unnecessary risks. and then he’s dead and this team that made up his identity, that gave him hope for the future, made him want to be a better hokage, to make this world better, the kids who would be his legacy, who were the best parts of him. all three are gone. it was his job to protect them and he failed for utterly. it tears him apart, it eats him alive.

and the village feels cold. kushina has always been an outsider and minato worked so hard to be hokage, to hopefully change things, to make her accepted and to keep his children safe. but the children still die. he’s still so powerless. the most powerful shinobi in the leaf, in charge of the village, and it doesn’t mean a fucking thing.

and if he doesn’t break and leave with kushina prior to naruto’s birth (because minato and kushina can’t stomach the thought of raising a boy just for him to be as outcasted and hated as his mother or like animals for slaughter to die in the line of duty like the siblings he’ll never know), he would DEFINITELY defects after the ninetails and kushina’s death. he’d have given up the post of hokage long before, right after kakashi, his final student’s, death. then he leaves because he can’t let this happen to his child, this one last chance he allows himself. he can’t. not again.

he’s already been too complacent, too powerless for too long. sitting there with the hokage’s hat like it meant something. he’s lost everything, including kushina, if they had waited until after the ninetails. he has no one else to care for, no one more to protect but Naruto, and the most loving act he can think of is to take him and run. to get out. a life on the run is dangerous, but it’s more conscionable than allowing his son to be raised to die in war. he resents the time he spent stationary in grief. he regrets what he allowed to happen on his watch. he goes and he leaves a slash across his stone face. a warning, a statement: he’ll be back for the others, the living (for their very lives) and the dead (for their violent legacies, upheld by the power hungry and the cruel).

this is all he knows how to do to honour their legacies: obito, rin, kakashi, and kushina. to destroy this system that condemned them to death. to raise a child in their memory, whose future will be happy, safe, and free.

#(minato)#obsessed w the idea that minato Wake Up and realizes his failures are compounded by the system and he stands up snd is no longer complacent

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dikanamai · 2 years

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So, about that delete scene of Encanto…

Yeah, the "I wish I were dead" one.

I have A LOT of opinions about it, but the main thing I wanna say is I'm very, very, very glad they didn't include something like that in the final version of the movie. Why? There are several reasons.

The first one has to do with Bruno. What I do like about that deleted scene is that it fleshes out his character a bit more and gives some extra background to his departure. Let's be honest, that "I had a bad vision that was going to be misunderstood and I hid in the walls for ten years without a goodbye" feels a bit lame, at least. Bruno's last vision wasn't actually the main problem, but the last straw in a situation that had been burning him out for who knows how much time. So yeah, I can picture him arguing with Alma very often over the years, as he got older and more tired. They probably vented on each other more than once, just like Pepa and Alma do in the movie. And it would've been great if the movie had been more emphatic about the fact that Bruno didn't left just to "protect" Mirabel, but for his own reasons. This man had two sisters that adore him (YES, THEY ADORE HIM) and four more niblings to care about, the oldest ones already preteens who had shared their lives with him. The fact that Bruno loves his family to the point of "leaving without leaving" means he was part of the family, he wasn't ostracized. I love Mirabel, but I'm super tired of this tendency to believe Bruno didn't care about absolutely anyone but her, because that doesn't have any sense. Bruno wanted to protect the whole family, not just her. And he left because his gift wasn't helping the family, and it "wasn't helping" the family for a long time before Mirabel's failed ceremony. A backstory more focused on him and his issues instead of Mirabel would've been far better.

BUT, even if he and his mother argued every now and then, there would be lines they would never cross. Why? Because if any of her children had confronted Alma the way Mirabel does in the movie, it would've happened exactly the same that happens in the movie: Alma would've opened her eyes. That's the point.

The reason the family's situation has been perpetuated over decades is because no one has confronted Alma before to that extent. The triplets didn't do it because they know their mother, her pain and her motivations. They're not going to call her out, because 1) probably Alma was getting sterner gradually as she got older, so she hasn't always been that way, 2) they love her and they know she loves them, and 3) they know what gave them the miracle was their father's death. We talk a lot about Alma's grief, but what about the triplets' grief? They couldn't meet their father, but they had lived their whole lives honoring the miracle because it costed Pedro's life. I bet the three of them had that kind of "do it for him" mindset every time they felt overcome, not because Alma told them so, but because they felt that way, as well as her. I know everybody loves the angst, but the "I wish I were dead" line, imho, is something a teenager/young adult would say in the heat of the moment, not the response of a 40 years old man who knows perfectly what's his mother's problem. Even less in this kind of context, with the overwhelmed presence of their dead father filling the house.

And that leads me to the most important reason why I (low-key) hate that delete scene: Alma would never NEVER say something like "If you go, you're dead to me" in the context presented by the movie, and I'll die in this hill. She could shout, she could argue, she could be stern, hard or even rude, but she would never say "you're dead to me" to any of her kids or grandkids, far less to her only son (who I bet is the apple of her eye). This woman is traumatized by the death of the love of her life, and her children are her everything. All she has ever done has been a desperate attempt to keep them safe and sound, and if any of them had said "I leave", I think she would've freaked out rather than getting mad. Her love could be suffocating (she held on too tight), but it's love, and she would rather die herself before even mentioning rhetorically her son's death. Even in her final confrontation with Mirabel, what she says is "you're hurting the family and you have to stop", and that moment is awful, but Alma never rejects Mirabel as a member of the family or tries to cast her out or some shit like that. Alma is not Imelda Rivera, and Imelda could say "you're dead to this family" to Héctor just because she thought he was an asshole who had abandoned them. So yeah, I'm very glad they didn't make Alma say that fucking nonsense just for the sake of drama, because it would've been OoC as fuck.

The reason Encanto actually works so well is because it manages to keep an amazing balance between the characters' relationships, bordering the limits without trespassing them. Every single bit of these relationships has sense, even if there're a lot of people out there claiming the opposite. The first generation of Madrigals weren't able to open Alma's eyes, because they were too close to her, sharing her pain. And when you're close to the person who's suffering, you tend to overlook their faults. Many times (especially in cases like this one, I think, when the parents aren't actually abusive, but stern and exigent), the older you get, the better you understand and thus the less you argue with that level of hardness. If the love beats the resentment, you just learn to deal with your parents' issues and keep going. And that's not good, ok, but it's how it is and it's understandable. That's why Julieta scolds Alma softly even if she doesn't like how her mother treats her daughter. That's why Pepa is like "OK, MAMÁ!!" full of irritation at Alma's remarks, but never goes further with her complains. And that's why I really love the fact that Bruno left without a peep, instead of after some spectacular argument full of shouts and hard words. Because he knew he couldn't argue, he didn't want to argue, he knew that argument would be The Mother Of All The Arguments and he wasn't up to go so far. He loves his mother, as he loves the rest of the family, and he would rather isolate himself to avoid that confrontation and all the hurt it would bring.

Of course, he leaving in the middle of the night without a word was far more hurtful, and that's why Pepa starts thundering any time she hears his name and that's why Alma says he didn't care about the family, because that's what it seemed. They're mad because they think he just abandoned them and they're devastated, not because they hate him (and I can't believe there're so many people unable to understand something so obvious, tbh). And actually, their reaction is another proof that Bruno was never hated by his family; he was loved and he's missed. But that's another matter for another post.

By the time the movie takes place, the older grandkids have also fallen in this dynamic, too busy "earning the miracle with work and dedication" to think of changes. The Madrigals are trapped in this vicious circle in which no one ever calls Alma out, thinking that's the best way to respect her and not hurt her, so Alma never opens her eyes, because she has lost her way and she NEEDS HELP to find it again. The first person to really confront her and make her react will be the one who breaks the circle. And that person was Mirabel.

Long story short, this deleted scene is better deleted, because it doesn't fit the slightest with the movie or the characters we know.

#encanto #disney encanto #encanto deleted scenes #encanto spoilers #bruno madrigal #alma madrigal #abuela alma #I said Encanto shows an amazing balance between the characters' relationships #but that balance is actually quite fragile #so when any aspect of them gets altered it affects the whole picture #that's why I'm not enjoying in the slightest the novelization either #it changes VERY important details and that's getting on my nerves #for me the end of the movie works because the family isn't abusive #but if you twist the balance showed in the movie and make them more bitter #the tone of the whole movie gets watered down #the characters' actions lose their sense #the resolution feels more problematic #but that's another ANOTHER matter for another ANOTHER post

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