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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

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MAG 199 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: Slow Tuesday at work/after work...

MARTIN: "Anyone want another cup of tea?" Ah yes, Martin's solution for everything. Tea XD

MELANIE: "So, we’re seriously holding up ‘let Jon become god’ as a legitimate choice here?" Yeah, I guess Melanie would hate that. Even if it's not her god, with her being cut off from the Eye and all xD

So, as far as I see it from these first few sentences we have Melanie and Martin who want to send off the Fears. Then we have Jon who is adamant on becoming the Pupil and letting the Fears die so no other Jon ever has to suffer this. And Basira and Georgie, who are kiiiind of more on the neutral/fence-sitter side.

GEORGIE: "But is it all other realities, or just some of them?" JON: "Does it matter?" MARTIN: "I mean, maybe? If there are infinite worlds out there then “thousands” isn’t even a drop in the bucket, cosmically speaking." MELANIE: "'Cosmically speaking'?" MARTIN: "You know what I mean." [MELANIE SIGHS] BASIRA: "It’s still more than one, though, isn’t it? Which is what we’re discussing." It's time to bring up MAG 155 again! xD They are talking more than one, that's for sure, so it seems like they would do more harm if they send off the Fears, hitting more people than they are, in total numbers I mean. But are they? Here's the hypothetical part again (in MAG 155 it was that the statement giver was working on projects which could save thousands of lives. Hypothetical, cause in the end nobody knows if the projects would have actually failed if it wasn't for her). They don't know what these other worlds look like. We know there's one very similar to theirs from MAG 114. But how many people are there? Maybe all those other worlds are so much smaller that in total numbers they are less than the people here. Very unlikely I know, but there is no way to tell for sure.

GEORGIE: "Option two is Jon takes over from Magnus. Keeps the Powers contained here with us, and tries his best to make the place a little more… tolerable, until the end." MARTIN: "And we lose him." Technically, they don't know that either. Martin fears Jon's humanity will be lost once and for all. But what if he just stays the same?

MARTIN: "No, Jon, I’m sorry, but if one world still matters in an infinite spread of dimensions, then one person does, too." That's the problem. Jon doesn't think that way. If you're counting in total again, trading one life for so many others would have been quite expensive.

Lol, I just remembered this is basically Life Is Strange on a much larger scale and more complicated due to more variables and unknown outcomes XD

MELANIE: "I-I think the issue is he matters a bit too much." MARTIN: "The point is you don’t have a responsibility to sacrifice yourself just to make everyone else’s lives a bit easier." JON: "I’ve already made them a hell of a lot harder!" Okay first, fuck you, Melanie, seriously! Second, their conversation here again feels so real. Martin thinks Jon's martyr complex is bullshit and that it's not his fault. I feel like Jon did a lot better during their pilgrimage, accepting that it was not his fault and that he was used. But now after what Annabelle told them I'd say he sees himself existing already as his fault.

MELANIE: "Hey! Georgie didn’t do anything!" GEORGIE: "No, Melanie, I, I didn’t." MELANIE: [Softly] "Yeah." GEORGIE: "And maybe I should have. I kept out of it, even when I got a pretty good idea of what was going on towards the end. But… I should have known better. Hiding never helps." It's cool that doing nothing is also presented as doing something. (On a lighthearted note, it's just like someone asking you "Hey, what's your plan for the weekend?" - "Doing nothing" - "Great, then you can join-" - "No, you don't understand. My plan is to do nothing!" XD)

GEORGIE: "For a while! But… we couldn’t actually do anything, could we? Couldn’t save anyone." BASIRA: "Okay, fine, blame for everyone. But the hard fact is, Jon’s the only one who can take over the Panopticon." Oh wait, isn't there a Communist Bugs Bunny meme with Basira??

GEORGIE: "Which brings us to our third option." JON: Which is?" GEORGIE: "Do nothing. We… adapt to the new world, and just wait for it to finally end." Of course Georgie comes up with that one xD But she's right. As I said, doing nothing also is doing something.

BASIRA: "Do we actually have the right to make this decision? The five of us? For the whole world, or for maybe infinite worlds we know nothing about?" GEORGIE: "No, of course we don’t. But we’re the ones here." Ahh, I love the dilemma.

GEORGIE: "And I doubt there’s anyone else out there who’s in a better position to decide." JON: "There isn’t." I mean, Jon wouldn't know, he can't see them. They could technically try to ask other watchers who don't like that they ended up as a tormentor.

MELANIE: "Right? It’s kind of shitty to bring them out just to ask them if they’re willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good." There simply is no right way to do this.

MARTIN: "If it’s just a matter of guilt, then I’ll take it right now. I’d rather live the rest of my life lying awake wondering if I made the right choice, over lying awake listening to the screams of everyone on Earth being tortured!" JON: [Angry] "What? So it’s better for a thousand times more people to scream as long as we can’t hear them?" Very fair point of Jon. Also, most of the guilt would still be weighing on Jon, since he was the lynchpin to all this. I think it would totally fit his character to be high at risk of committing suicide in a scenario where they pass on the Fears and nobody knows he was the Archivist so nobody would come to take revenge on him.

MARTIN: "No! Because Annabelle said it wouldn’t be like that. Wherever they go, it’ll be like it was here before, with the Powers just lurking on the edges." MELANIE: "And our world survived like that for… for what, all of history?" MARTIN: "Mmmm." MELANIE: "Sure, it’s not great, but it’s, it’s not like those other realities won’t have bad stuff happening already. We all lived with monsters in the shadows, and we just got on with it." BASIRA: "Yeah, until we didn’t – until the ritual kicked off. What’s to stop the same thing happening in these other worlds?" MARTIN: "It, it took like millennia of failed rituals before this happened. That means there has to be a chance that it won’t happen at all, right?" Sooo many possibilities! It's such a shitty situation all over again!

MELANIE: "And if it does happen, it will be because of the actions of the people in those other dimensions, just like here it was because of –" JON: "Me." MELANIE: "Because of us." Ohhh, another Communist Bugs Bunny meme!! Also, if it does happen (another mass ritual working) it was only possible to happen at all because that world got the fears passed onto them. So it's not solemnly the fault of the people over there. Our crew would have given them the materials necessary for it.

MELANIE: "Exactly. Probably have their own Panopticon, their own Archivists." Oh yeah, what again are the stakes in The Magnus Protocol? TWO Panopticons and FOUR Eliases!!! xD

GEORGIE: "Well… Did Annabelle say for certain that this dimension is where they were, um, ‘born’, I guess?" JON: "No. No, the Eye can’t see its own creation, so… I don’t actually know how they came to be. Perhaps we can’t know." This does change things again. Annabelle said she doesn't know if they are unique to their world. But that there are definitely worlds without them to spread to. (Also, wait, isn't the MAG 200 statement exactly that?)

JON: "Sure, but even if that was true, it doesn’t change the situation." BASIRA: "Yes, it does. If it’s a choice between stopping the Fears completely – destroying them once and for all, here and now – or just being one universe they don’t escape, among potentially infinite ones where they do… Those are very different scenarios." Yeah exactly that, very well summarized.

JON: "We don’t know. And even if we hunted Annabelle down, and squeezed more information out of her, I don’t think she knows either. We simply don’t have that information, and we can’t just arbitrarily decide what’s true just because it makes the choice easier for us." Ahh yes. One of the themes in Magnus. Making decisions based on the information at hand at that point.

BASIRA: "No. No, I’m not just gonna stand here, and watch you try to justify murdering humanity." JON: [Angry] "How is it different from just letting it happen on its own?" BASIRA: [Forceful] "Because it is. It’s not an option. End of discussion." This and...

GEORGIE: "We’ve got to hope." JON: "Hope that our actions don’t destroy countless other worlds!" GEORGIE: "It’s better than the certainty that they’ll destroy this one!" [TENSE SILENCE] JON: "Sounds like you’ve all decided, then." ...this were breaking points. Especially not even counting Euthanasia as an option. It's Jon's life all over again. People deciding for him what to do. And the thing is, for the plan of passing on the Fears he doesn’t even have to do anything actively. All he need to do is watch them doing it. But doing nothing is also doing something...

GEORGIE: "Can I have a cigarette?" Noooooooooooo! This marks the point of no return. Just like MAG 1 already was the point of no return for them. And Jon once again takes the bait...

GEORGIE: "Then you won’t mind if I hang onto this?" JON: [Distracted] "Hmm." [FAINT STATIC RISES AND FALLS] Did Georgie know what the lighter means? Or that Jon can't keep track of it? We didn't hear how they explained the whole situation, so we don't know... And can this moment be seen as the one Jon finally sheds all the cobwebs off of him? Also I said last episode there's another lighter-moment for me, it's this one. Cause I missed this on my first listen!!! In MAG 200 I was just as surprised as Jon was when he looks for the lighter XD

GEORGIE: "I’m sorry. I know you hate what we’re doing." JON: "I hate all the options. I just… It’s all my fault, you know?" GEORGIE: "What, because you weren’t able to outsmart the literal embodiment of manipulation and scheming?" JON: "Mmm." GEORGIE: "We all make bad choices, Jon. It’s not your fault some eldritch horror decided yours were going to affect the whole world." For all the things Georgie did that made me not like her, I do like her for that one.

JON: "They were still my choices." GEORGIE: "Yeah. And you live with them. Or you don’t. That’s all there is, really." JON: "Hmm." I think that's another cog wheel for Jon to make his own decision.

MARTIN: "I’d understand if you hate me right now." JON: "What? No! No, Martin, I love you. I always will. And I know you love me too. I mean… [sighs] that’s it, isn’t it? That’s the real core of it. You want to save me." MARTIN: "I want you to save yourself." And that's the last puzzle piece for Jon to finally see the big picture. So to count them all again I personally would think its Jon learning his life was a set-up to this. The others dismissing his options. Georgie telling him all he can do is live with his choices or don't and finally this. Jon doesn't see sending off the Fears as saving himself. It's condemning himself. Again. Him saving himself would mean he can finally put a stop to this and save other people like him in return. Spare them the guilt.

JON: "Sometimes… I imagine if none of this had happened. If we had just… met. Been together, without… all of this." MARTIN: [Softly] "Me, too. … But we wouldn’t have, would we? Been together, I mean." JON: "Huh? W-What do you mean?" MARTIN: "Well, we had that, didn’t we? Almost a year of just working a normal job together, and you hated me." I don't think Jon meant this as them working in the Archives together. More like, him still in research, without the pressure of a job he's not qualified for, without a chaotic task of cleaning up after that one colleague who was about to retire and therefore didn't do their work anymore and without the feeling of The Eye pressing down on him. Just Jon meeting Martin in the library and getting to know him.

JON: "Oh god, Angela! Ha! She’s still about, you know? Lording it over a nasty little Flesh domain. Anyway, I didn’t explicitly say it. I… implied it." Face it, Jon, you're a prick xD

MARTIN: "Face it, Jon, it took almost two years of crisis and trauma to even make us compatible. And that sucks. But here we are. And I don’t want it to be for nothing. I won’t let it." JON: "That’s very sweet of you, Martin. Sort of. Thank you." I do see Martin's point of view and I think Jon sees it too. But I also think Jon thinks it will all be for nothing if he sends off the Fears. Also yeah, shared trauma can create a hell of a bond.

MARTIN: "Wherever you go, I go. That’s it." JON: "You promised to let me go. If I had to." MARTIN: "And you promised not to go if there was any other choice. And there is. So that’s the deal." JON: "That’s the deal." I wonder if it would have changed anything, if Martin left it at that. (Also "Wherever you go, I go" T__T)

MARTIN: "I guess that’s why it really bothers me, you know? I try, but I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you. And it… It hurts to know you can." Oh no. If reminding Jon of his promise might have actually turned him around, than this here definitely sealed the deal on going with his own decision again. Martin basically admits here, that he wouldn't have held up his end of the bargain. This makes it sound like Martin is relieved he doesn't have to break his promise cause he definitely would have anyway. I think this is so crucial to what Jon ends up doing.

JON: "I did this. It’s my fault. And I don’t want… I can’t let anyone else feel that. That helpless, enormous guilt. Ever." [JON SNIFFS AS IF TEARING UP] MARTIN: "Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, come here, come here." [FABRIC RUSTLES, WITH SNIFFS FROM JON] Oh fuck that wrecked me. Still does. In general, these "hey, hey, hey, hey, hey"s get me, I don't know why. It was the same in MAG 102, when Jon does it when Martin begins spiraling into his guilt over not even knowing Jon was kidnapped.

MELANIE: "We were scouting. I was showing Basira where we think the gas mainline is." MARTIN: "And?" BASIRA: "Not good. You know those eye things?" JON: "The old Archivists?" BASIRA: "Yeah. I think they know something’s up. The place is crawling with them. It’s like they’re looking for something." I mean yeah, it's world-building, but also a bit of a loose end, since we never hear their struggle to get to the gas main. I think Jonny mentioned in one of the Q&As/Retrospectives that he thought about squishing in a scene of that somewhere in MAG 200 but he couldn't find a fitting place for it. And I think he's right. I don't think it fits anywhere before Jon realizes the lighter is gone and then an explosion immediately hits, it would kind of devalued this moment. And after that there's already too much going on, breaking off Jon and Martin at that point would destroy the atmosphere. But it's fine, there's a lot in TMA that was implied which we never actually hear first hand. It does give MAG 200 a bit of a suspense, like are they actually able to light up the gas main.

MELANIE: "Jon, you’re sure about this whole gas main thing? It just seems, I don’t know, really mundane." JON: "It’s what Annabelle said, and she wasn’t lying. At least, she didn’t think she was." It's also what Gertrude was planning on doing and she had lots of experience about blowing stuff up.

MARTIN: "You’re not listening. I mean, if he kills Jonah, then knowing our luck he’s just going to end up taking his place in the Panopticon, isn’t he?" Hmm, there's quite some dream logic involved. Cause in MAG 193 Jon said "The Eye would choose a suitable replacement" and "If we kill Jonah Magnus, I take his place". It is never specified if different persons killing Jonah have different outcomes. But I guess you could argue that if Jon himself does it, he's more connected to he whole thing going on and the Eye would be much quicker to put him into place. With someone else doing it (whom the Eye does not see fit to become the Pupil) it probably takes a few moments to connect to the Archivist.

MARTIN: "He can come up with me, but when it actually comes to Jonah…" It wooould make more sense for Jon to hide in the tunnels, cause the Eye can't properly see this place. It would probably take a looooot longer to get to Jon, which is easier for them to time their operations. Buuut, if Jon had to stay in the tunnels, we would immediately know Jon went up to Jonah alone, and so we still have a few seconds benefit of the doubt.

BASIRA: "I just mean… um… If we don’t make it out of this… I wanted to say thanks. For coming back for me. [sighs] What I did… Who I was… I – Thanks." JON: "I’m sorry for all of this." Aw, same thought as with Georgie earlier.

BASIRA: "We’ve all got regrets. But we can’t undo what’s done. All we can do is try and do something worthwhile with the time we’ve got left." [HEAVY SIGH FROM JON] JON: "Yeah." Oh no, that "Yeah" didn't sound good...

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 199 #tma #tma spoilers

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foramoment-whenimdancing-iamfree · 5 months

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If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?

Okay so I’m preparing to get way more personal and go on a lot longer than most folks will want to read so more after the cut, I think. I assume y’all are here for kink content and this will not be that lol

I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to take care of people. Mostly at first it was because, in my family, putting others first was the only way to get my own needs met. My parents largely treated me like an afterthought, so I learned to do that too. My siblings were too young to help themselves and my parents were only marginally more interested in them than they were in me, so I stepped up to look after them.

As I got older, I found this dynamic replicated in all of my close relationships. I rarely found the support of friends, even after they leaned on me too hard. I learned to figure things out on my own. I cultivated a deep inner life that is peaceful and restorative, and I maintain that today. Any partner or friend I have has to add something to my life that I don’t already provide and I try to be selective about who I let in. Invariably, to this day, I‘ve been unable to find a connection with another person who is as supportive of me as I am of them.

I don’t say this to paint myself as a martyr. I’m not an easy person to get close to. I’ve experienced some awful things and I’m careful about who I share those details with. I am satisfied with my own company and it takes a lot for me to let people in. At the same time, I’m over-generous in other areas which often lends the appearance of closeness but allows me to keep back certain details. Once I decide to trust someone, though, I struggle to create and maintain boundaries with them. It’s a confusing jumble that makes me a difficult person to know.

I do crave closeness, though, and community. Like anyone else, I long for a deeper connection that feels reciprocal. In a relationship like this one, I’d hope that I at least wouldn’t have to spend so much of my time urging this person to work on their own traumas while putting my own on the back burner. In my ideal scenario, this person would be at a similar point to me in their own efforts to take care of their mental health. We’d be able to have honest discussions without constantly bumping into the unhealed parts of our traumas. I wouldn’t feel the pressure of guessing how they are feeling (and acting accordingly), because they would be able to tell me.

This doesn’t sound like much, but so many of the people I’ve dated or been friends with have this exact issue. It isn’t so much that they’re not willing to talk about issues, it’s that they spend so much time pushing their emotions away, they inadvertently put all the responsibility for them onto me. By the time I bring the issue up, they’ve so far removed from their own feelings they can’t do anything about it.

So if I had a crystal ball, I’d want to know if I’ll be able to find that. Whether it’s with current partners or new ones. Or if I should try harder to be content on my own and keep supporting people because it’s the right thing to do.

After the most recent fiasco with someone I trusted, I’m feeling less generous. Less trusting. Less patient. I’m angry - and so tired. If I could ask, I’d want to know if that’ll ever change - if it should change at all.

#ask game #personal #asks #probably not the answer you wanted but #I’m trying to get better at disappointing people

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katnissdoesnotfollowback · 2 years

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Hey !! I really hope I'm not bothering you with these asks everyday but here goes another cuz I haven't had the opportunity to discuss thg this deeply ever , and your answers leave me feeling like I've grown , So...... in mj after they had declared Katniss's death which even Coin bought , it just make sense for her to send Prim in medical unit stationed in the Capitol , she was 14 she had no business there ! Katniss as far as Prim knew was dead ( atleast if we consider that she travelled to the Capitol after the squad had been isolated bcuz if it were before Katniss would know , right ? )

Okay so here’s what I think on this one. There’s a couple possibilities and I’m not sure which one is true so let’s have at it.

1) Prim is brought to the Capitol as a medic after Katniss and some of the Star Squad shows up as Not Dead. Coin brings her in to use as leverage against Katniss and to die in the parachute attack. This also explains why Katniss doesn’t know she’s there, because the Star Squad has lost its ability to communicate with the rebels, but doesn’t necessarily explain how Prim wound up on the front lines so quickly after the Star squad shows up on cameras again. Katniss in the books gets to the Capitol through the train tunnels, not by hovercraft. It takes several days to get to the Capitol from 13 the way she travels. This is because, as she points out in the books, almost all of the hovercraft in Panem have been damaged or destroyed during the war. Since this option also hinges on fast transport from 13 to the Capitol that may not have been available to get Prim there in such a short time, I’m not sure it’s all that likely.

2) Prim was brought to the Capitol earlier to control Katniss but shit hit the fan and the Star Squad lost communications before anyone could tell her Prim was there. No mother freaking out, No Haymitch going what the fuck??? Because you’re right. Prim was 13 years old when she dies and had no business being there. She was not old enough yet to carry the district 13 title of Soldier and be put into combat. I would point out that D13 puts their trained 14 year olds into combat, though so add child soldiers to your list of their war crimes while you’re at it. The problem with this one is that Coin had no way of knowing the Star Squad would lose communications and “die.” So Katniss would’ve found out and raised hell. It also depends on either Prim demanding to be sent (against her mothers wishes and months before she turns 14), or on Coin pushing through a waiver for her to go… but that probably requires Mrs Everdeen’s consent. Possible explanation: Prim wasn’t sent to the front lines at all, but to a camp near the rear to tend to the wounded, well behind the lines of fighting. Where she could be “safer…” But then things got confusing or the lines blurred or they lost a lot medics, and Prim wound up in the City Circle. If that’s the case, then sloppy writing Ms Collins because that should be explained after the fact.

3) Actually let’s pause here to remember what Johanna said about there being riots in the Capitol streets if Prim gets hurt… hi hello??? What’s this? Coin actually smartly using an Everdeen girl for propaganda? Possibly. Basically, I propose that Prim was gonna die in the City Circle bombing whether Katniss was still alive to see it or not… because Prim had become another sort of symbol to the country. A beloved symbol of healing and innocence. Put her near a pen with injured Capitol children and she’ll try to help them, blow them all up, make sure the camera catches it (an argument Katniss used to justify risking her own death to Coin…) and Voila! Everybody hates Snow even more than they already do. In which case, Coin doesn’t need to think Katniss is alive when she sends Prim. She could send her to the Capitol when they all think Katniss is dead. What’s better than one dead Everdeen martyr? Two dead Everdeen martyrs!! (My apologies I get morbid when I’m stressed). Problem: depends heavily on Coin getting her to the Capitol when Mrs E has already lost one daughter could prevent her second leaving (maybe?) AND on Coin knowing what Prim is most likely to do in certain situations and taking advantage of it. So…. So maybe a little too much deus ex machina in this option…

4) Prim’s death is an accident but an added bonus in Coin’s viewpoint. It’s only Katniss (helped by Snow) who really seems to believe Prim wound up there because Coin was trying to manipulate/break Katniss. Maybe it really was just a tragedy of war. So how does Prim even wind up there at 13? I’m gonna make the argument that Coin actually sent her behind the lines, possibly even Mrs Everdeen was there. And Prim, like her older sister, defied those orders and charged forward with her medic unit into the fray. This one actually seems the most feasible to me mainly because as awful as Coin is, there’s a lot of devious planning and a lot that could go wrong involved in Coin actually orchestrating Prim’s presence in the City Circle.

5) *throws papers in the air* Suzanne done fucked up and wrote us a sloppy ending with something we can’t easily explain because we’re missing vital information.

Take your pick, love because I don’t know which one is more likely right now.

#sommmee #look at that ask

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rjthehybrid · 2 years

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Checked the #TeenWolf fandom fics and there's suddenly an influx of Scott hate and i find it fucking absurd so here

(You have your fave/faves i have mine and i don't play blind cause it's convenient)

The only thing wrong is that Scott has literally died AT LEAST TWICE and nobody has ever seen to it that he is okay. Yes, he is the alpha but like Stiles said in season 4 “Team Captain, Alpha Werewolf, you’re still only human.” then in a complete turn-around in season 5 Stiles accuses Scott of not being human. I like Stiles, but if Scott doesn’t understand a decision that Stiles made then Stiles says it’s because he’s not human. Stiles is Scott’s best friend so he knows what he fears most, one of said fears is losing his humanity and Stiles uses it to his advantage a lot. Sorry if this offends you, but Stiles may only be human, but sometimes he is less human than Scott. So please write more if fics like this because there are not nearly enough of them.

They all went through traumatic experiences, yes, but really I’d wager that it is worst for Scott. Not only does Scott have a martyr complex, but starting on that fateful day he has been trampled by dear, found numerous dead bodies, mind controlled by a psychotic werewolf, been hunted for YEARS, saw friends die, see his friend date his Ex, nearly have his and Stiles and Allison’s dad or mom be sacrificed, was sacrificed himself, became an Alpha and the only person who could help him understand the chances that brought from a werewolf’s perspective left, lost his anchor, nearly went insane, was nearly killed by his possessed best friend, had his first love die in his arms then shortly after saw one of his pack die, then he has to go to Mexico and ends up getting tortured, finds Derek then has to fix Derek, nearly gets killed again, accidentally injured a freshman, ends up having to bite said freshman, sees someone get killed by a tomahawk, has to find a way to help his new Beta, ends up number one on a deadpool, feels like he failed those he wasn’t able to save, still has NO idea what the heck he is doing, gets kidnapped and taken back to Mexico, where he is once again mind-controlled by a psychotic were and nearly kills his pack, has to fight the father of a pack member, then ends losing(almost for good) his most trusted Beta, then there is the chimeras, Dread Doctors, and Theo, gets KILLED by someone he thought he could trust, lost his pack, attacked by his best friend mere hours after dying, has to fight to get his pack back while figuring out multiple mysteries, fighting a gigantic werewolf from a long time ago, has to break someone out of Eichen House again, nearly has his friends die again, ends up getting his neck clawed and being forced to see all his memories of his first love who ends up saving him because of that, watches a former friend who killed get sent to hell, loses another girlfriend, nobody asks if he is okay, then there is the fact that all of basically everybody’s memories of his best friend/brother erased from their memory, has to find a way to get him back, gets him back then loses him again, as well as a Beta, everyone that he had been working to SAVE end up trying to kill him, suffers nearly unbearable losses, faces extreme fear and sense of failure, watches an enemy turned mentor die, has to claw his own eyes out and is so off that he almost loses the ability to regrow them, still NO-ONE asks if he is okay, just drag him into a literal war. Yet not once does anyone truly make him admit that he is so far from okay I wonder if he even remembers what that feels like. He nearly let himself die of guilt, nearly sets himself on fire and he gets one comforting speech from Stiles and that’s it. And less than a year later he is nearly set on fire and he is so far trying to ignore that fact that he asks why nobody used the guns they had and all he gets is a very concerned look from Derek. Someone help Scott! He has been nearly killed by most EVERYONE in his pack, yet no one says a thing about it.

#teen wolf #good alpha #think what you will #scalia #scott mccall #good alpha scott mccall #scott mccall defense squad

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electricbluebutterflies · 2 years

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Jess/Leto + A Hoarse Whisper “Kiss Me”

Choice-era, PG-ish, late queued crosspost // also on ao3 // look y’all I cleared 50 ficlets for them, HOW.

She is unprepared for the sadness.

She is unprepared for so many things, for the range of emotions she has learned to feel these past few years and how much it turns out she enjoys most of them. Her public presentation remains calm and delicate and distant, but her internal life has blossomed and beneath her carefully maintained layers of ice it turns out she is a burning fire and-

Jessica is unprepared, in the weeks that will later feel like the last calm before the storm, when she is not alone in her body but no one else has reason to know. She was never supposed to be this vulnerable – never supposed to do any of this as she has – and all of those contradictions be damned, she cannot imagine any other life.

She is still prone to wandering, more purposefully now than when she had first come here and not trusted anyone’s attempts at showing her around. She found her hiding places by accident and cultivated them, made sure the right people knew where to look for her in case of emergency but also understood why she might need quiet. If the reputation that gave her was not quite what was intended with her placement… eccentricity is tolerated better on the more stable planets, and at least she’s been visibly harmless, at least she hasn’t gotten blamed for any major decisions her partner has made, at least-

That’s all about to change. Her body is a timebomb, a matter of weeks if not days before she discloses what she has done and right now she is bracing herself for the consequences. Her partner will be supportive – she has done the only real thing he has ever asked her for, and she has been here long enough to see what kind of man he is, the depth of loyalty that has somehow been attributed to her and helped her see that she loves the same way. The rest of the world…

For her lover, it will be minor scandal, something that will fade over time once it becomes apparent that their son is normal enough. For her, most likely, it will be damnation.

She fell in love and committed a single act that might be enough to break the world. She doesn’t know. She paces along the beach, the cold air and the twirl of her skirt enough to keep her in a body she already feels herself disconnecting from. There are no absolutes, she has convinced herself of this over these past few years, she knows what she has done is against protocol but she does not know by how much or why or how that might impact the fate of the known world and-

She herself is neither savior nor martyr, she knows this even now, but she is no mere vessel either. What she has done – and oh how easily she disconnects herself from her actions, already defense mechanisms forming and this too she was unprepared for – was of her own desire above all else. She was created to preserve and entwine bloodlines, she knows this, she is nothing special in that way. Her partner talked pretty in the quiet of night with his hands on her and made her believe him, and if he too is damned it will be more by association than anything else, and-

At some point the emotional loops overwhelm her, the sadness and the anger of it all, the cosmic insignificance of her little life and this was how she decided to defy it, and her control slips. There is less shame in crying if she is alone, if no one sees her lose composure, and it feels right to get out of her head and into her body, to fully let herself feel every conflicted thing within her. It will be easier when she keeps fewer secrets, she comforts herself as she kneels on the ground and still carefully arranges her skirts for minimal damage, as she allows the sounds she cannot control to do no more than concern a flock of nearby birds. It will be easier when her partner knows, after he makes enough promises to let her sleep through the night and after the accusations start to go over his head, after-

It is strange sometimes how paths cross, how thinking of a person seems to cause them to appear. Jessica knows that is not the true explanation, but it is still a comfort as she hears familiar footsteps and heartbeat, as she turns her head and wants to hate herself for how much affection she has learned to feel. Tolerance, she had once been taught, was the ideal outcome of a placement. What is within her heart is deeper and more pleasant, and-

To his credit, her partner does not say anything about her visible state of distress. She has made a point not to manipulate him by the methods she once expected she would have to use to survive, and the acclimation that has occurred instead has been more natural, a proper result of desire and domestic routine. His curiosity has not faded as she’d hoped, but at least he’s quieter about it now, at least-

She still sees the worry in his eyes as he kneels down next to her, the understanding that she is in no mood for conversation but she will tolerate being touched. This too is acclimation, the discovery over time that her body can be pleasant, can be-

Familiar hands around hers do not stop the crying. She’s not sure anything could.

She loves him so much and it’s already ruined her, loves how he makes his heart clear and at the same time is so effortlessly casual about it. There are certainly other things he should be attending to right now, she is well aware, at least some of the infinite paperwork that power entails, but instead he is here with her and she is convinced there is no higher priority on his mind right now. The little patterns he traces on her skin, the acceptance of her lack of eye contact, the tension that feels more like worry than anything else and-

“Kiss me,” she breathes. The sadness and fear have not passed, may never pass, but she needs to give something, she needs-

Her partner leans in with adequate caution, soft collision and the things they have to be cautious about saying. She knows his body like her own – that was supposed to be the point of her, once – and she suspects he has come to see her the same way, each an extension of the other, how easily they entwine and-

“You worry me,” he murmurs when they breathe, and it might as well be the grand declaration of love she doubts she’ll ever actually get.

“I’ll try not to.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” he counters, almost a laugh and skies he makes her warm sometimes. “I know you don’t…”

“I was never meant to be difficult. I don’t-“

“Don’t apologize for things you didn’t do.”

“What I have done is more than enough.” Two weeks, perhaps, until she is not alone in understanding the full weight of that statement. For now it is as close as she wants to come to disclosure, for now-

He kisses her again, soft as ever, and then little feathery kisses across her face and at least she is loved, that will be the refrain when her world catches fire, at least she has been loved, at least-

“You make things better,” he murmurs. “Screw the rest.”

How little he knows. How much more she loves him for it.

#ebf writes fic #leto x jessica #queue

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makeste · 3 years

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have you noticed in the latest chapter the light is gone from Izuku's eyes? The same way it was gone from Katsuki's between his rescue and Deku vs Kacchan 2 fight. Izuku is hurting inside and im sitting here wondering how long will it be til he hits breaking point

so I’m late in answering these two asks (got them last week after 309 came out) because a certain someone had his birthday and so I was busy reading fanfic and hunting down gremlin faces, and then 310 came along and so I got distracted with that, and also I just suck at answering asks. but anyways, yes. yes to all of this, and thank you both for pointing this out. like, let’s talk about this. because this is how Deku’s eyes look normally,

and this is him in the latest chapter.

first of all, this is really well-played imo, because it’s all about consistency. it’s a very subtle change (or at least I thought it was lol), and the reason it’s so effective is because Horikoshi is so consistent in drawing the “normal” bright-eyed Deku look that you can’t help but notice the change when he suddenly stops. even if you can’t necessarily put your finger on exactly what’s off at first, I think most people definitely got that feeling of something being wrong. and that’s very deliberate.

so why is this important? well because a lot of people’s big fear right now is that the story is tacitly endorsing Deku’s recent choices and painting them as right/correct. namely, people are worried that this whole thing with Deku striking off on his own (because let’s be real, that’s exactly what he’s done; it doesn’t matter that All Might and the Hawksquad are accompanying him, because he’s clearly keeping his distance from them and is ready to give them the slip the moment things get bad) is going to be framed as The Right Decision Which Is Best For Everyone. and for a lot of people, that comes as a betrayal, because up until this point the series has espoused teamwork and trust as core virtues, and what Deku is doing right now is basically the opposite of that.

and this is why little details like the Despondent Eyes of Angst and Despair (or D.E.A.D. eyes for short) are so important -- because they signal to us that this is not the case. they are a very clear visual indicator that in spite of him appearing to have his shit together, Deku is very much not okay right now. like, let me just repeat that one more time: Deku is not fine. Deku is very much not fine here at all. Despondent Eyes of Angst and Despair are not just a little thing to be ignored. D.E.A.D. eyes are a dead giveaway that a character is Going Through It and is not in the right state of mind right now and needs help. but before I start spamming this post with images, let me add a read more cut.

okay, so! case in point,

Nana’s eyes normally:

vs. Nana’s eyes when she’s talking about potentially killing her grandson in order to defeat AFO:

Iida’s eyes normally:

vs. Iida’s eyes when he’s plotting premeditated murder to avenge his brother:

and again, Deku’s eyes normally:

vs. Deku’s eyes in chapters 306 through 310:

Deku’s eyes were still clear all the way up through chapter 305 when he was talking to the Vestiges about wanting to save Tomura. in fact, they were clear af when he was giving his speeches about that, because that light in his eyes always shines brightest when he’s speaking and acting with true conviction. it’s one of the ways the art shows us how determined he is. when Deku talks about saving people no matter what, he’s speaking straight from the heart about one of the core principles of his character, and the look in his eyes reflects that.

now contrast that against the look in his eyes when he talks about not wanting anyone else to get hurt:

once you see it, you can’t not see it. it’s Horikoshi’s way of showing that even though it may sound like the Same Old Deku on the surface, it absolutely is not the Deku we’ve come to know and love. something is deeply wrong. even though these might appear to be the same old convictions he’s always had -- protect everyone at all costs -- he’s gone from acting out of belief and principle to acting out of fear. he’s afraid of someone else getting hurt because of him. he’s so afraid that he’s pushing people away left and right to stop it from happening again. and that fear is holding him back, because as long as he’s holding himself apart from everyone else and trying to do it all solo, he’s making the same mistake that All Might once did. no one can bear all of that weight on their shoulders alone. AFO isn’t someone who can be defeated by any one person alone. the only way he’s ever going to be defeated is if the characters hold true to the one ideal that’s at the very core of the series: one for all. the combined strength of many, working together to overcome the selfish, arrogant, limited strength of one.

basically, this right here is why I haven’t been concerned about the story suddenly veering off the rails with this latest development. like, this isn’t Our Lord And Savior Deku being put on a pedestal and worshipped while all the other characters are shoved aside. this is Literally-Still-Just-A-Child Deku having an angst spiral while the distracted adults around him try their best to keep an eye on him but kind of suck at it because there’s too much other stuff going on that they’re also trying to deal with. All Might could be the one to help him in theory, but in practice he’s too accommodating and doesn’t really know how to say ‘no’ to this kid he loves like his own son, and right now he’s basically letting Deku walk all over him. as for the Vestiges, they’re great for helping Deku in battle, but well, how do I put this lol. basically I’m not fully sold on trusting Deku’s mental health to a bunch of angst-ridden martyrs who all died willingly in order to further the cause of taking AFO down. not really the best life coaches, there.

but you know who I do trust to finally get through to Deku and get him to see reason and start having faith in others again?

these guys.

so yeah. tl;dr, Deku isn’t okay right now and we’re not meant to think he is. and unless I’m way off base, this is going to be a very temporary arrangement. I don’t think Deku can continue as he is right now indefinitely. saving others has been his whole thing since the very start of the manga, but like everything else, eventually it has to come full circle. and I think that very soon, it’s finally going to be his turn to be saved. luckily for him, he’s got some good (and determined) friends. and as they say, giving help that’s not asked for is part of what makes a true hero.

#bnha 310 #bnha 309 #midoriya izuku #bnha meta #deku meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks

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jekacatrina · 3 years

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Fate don't know you like I do

Hello, guys, have this super cheesy and self indulgent piece I wrote for Bakudeku day! I'm so happy to be part of this fandom and all the wonderful content creators out there, so here's my little contribution, enjoy! I wrote it super fast so sorry for any mistake or typo!

Also, the title is a song I love, please check it out, it inspired the whole thing!

Izuku wakes up to the sight of his bedroom ceiling, body aching and mind restless. He’s no longer wearing his hero suit, except for the undershirt and his pants, everything else is gone. Slowly, the yells of the crowd infiltrate his thoughts and he wishes to run away, to go to where he can’t hurt anyone he cares about.

He has to leave. He is being selfish. Izuku props himself up on his elbows.

“That’s the face of a rabbit ready to bolt,” the gruff voice startles him, and he turns to see Kacchan sitting on his desk, frowning. It adds up that they wouldn't leave him without someone standing guard.

Kacchan has changed out of his hero suit, and a dark grey long sleeved t-shirt hides the bandages on his shoulder and stomach, but Izuku is keenly aware of the wounds he was sporting as he flew around trying to keep him from leaving. By the end, his childhood friend was bleeding through them. That was Izuku’s fault; both Kacchan reopening his injuries and the fact that he has them in the first place.

“Kacchan, I'm so-“

“Save it, nerd,” he abandons the desk chair and shuffles closer.

Izuku takes him in; after weeks of agonizing over the state in which he left Kacchan, seeing him do a perfect arch in the air and stop a villain with a precise AP Shot, filled him with a relief so strong, it paralyzed him, and he was only able to stare in awe.

During the following fight, if Izuku can call it that when it was against his friends, Kacchan was everywhere; coordinating different maneuvers, and he even had a new move. Izuku told his friends they couldn’t keep up, and he remembers vaguely that he apologized, because in reality they’re miles ahead of him.

Still, nobody is like Kacchan: certain and absolute, pure will held together by his convictions. He never backs down, and he never gives up, only marches forward. Izuku never stood a chance against him, in more than one way.

Kacchan kneels by the bed, putting an elbow on the bed, close to his hips, and lazily resting his head on his hand.

“Kacchan, I can’t stay here,” he mumbles, trying to convey all his inner turmoil. He wants to stay, he is so tired and scared, but he will not risk anyone for his sake.

Kacchan frowns in response.

“You can, and you will, dumbass,” he states, surprising him by clutching his forearm. “I’m not chasing your sorry ass around anymore.”

“Then let me go,” Izuku turns his arm, grabbing him as well.

“You’re not going anywhere, Izuku.”

The name travels through his body, lighting him up on the inside, coursing through him with the violence of the first time he used One For All, equally exhilarating and terrifying.

It all comes back to him; the rain, his words, his bow, Izuku collapsing and Kacchan appearing in time to support him.

Izuku.

“You apologized,” he whispers, tears coming to his eyes. “You said all those things in front of the whole class.”

“I had to, asshole, you left before I could tell you in private,” he doesn’t look embarrassed or regretful. Kacchan doesn’t shy away from his decisions once he makes up his mind. “Only a shitty letter for explanation and that was it.” He shakes his head. “You didn’t even let me go with you, idiot.”

“You’re still dealing with the outcome of the last time I let you come with me.” The tears are running freely down his cheeks. “I had to watch how he almost took you away from me.” He scrubs his eyes furiously with his free hand, not letting go of Kacchan. “I can’t allow more people to suffer because of me.” He’s on his way to a full on breakdown, struggling to get air in his lungs, and blood roaring in his ears, the noises muffled.

Suddenly, Kacchan is hovering over him, shoving his shoulder firmly.

“Hey, Deku, scoot over,” Izuku only glances at him through his crying, baffled. “Give me some room to lay down, like when we were kids.” He’s already in the process of climbing on the bed, and Izuku manages to slide his body closer to the other end, grabbing the bed cover when the weight of his childhood friend laying down almost makes him roll over him. “Jesus Christ, you stink,” Kacchan complains.

“I know,” Izuku turns on his side, creating more space between them. Hygiene wasn’t that high on his list of priorities, not even eating or sleeping was, and he feels awful. He didn’t have the energy to shower before passing out.

“You smell like dirt and sweat.” Kacchan scrunches up his nose. “Worst of all, you reek of that goddamn martyr complex, and it pisses me off.” he turns too, and traps Izuku in his red gaze. “If you’re choosing to ignore all I said before, at least pay attention to the last part.” He’s not sugarcoating his words, he’s as brash as he always is. “We all want to fight, because we’re heroes and we want to protect everyone, including the fucking chosen one, whether you want us to or not. I’m not asking for your damn permission, and neither is any of the rest. So, you can either play nice and make it easy for us, or be a self-sacrificial idiot, making it all the more annoying. Your call.”

“I don’t know how to stop,” Izuku grimaces, reaching for him with a shaky hand, and awkwardly squeezes his arm. “I’m not ignoring all you said, Kacchan” he chooses to focus on that, gaze in his All Might covers. “I, I forgave you a long time ago, mostly because I wanted to focus on the good parts, so in a way I let go of it for me.” He forgets about his smell, and scoots closer, resting his forehead close to his shoulder. “But thank you, Katsuki.” He hasn’t said that name in ages, but that doesn’t come from any animosity on his part. Kacchan has always been and will always be Kacchan. Izuku feels him move as Kacchan places his chin on top of his matted curls, and they stay like that for a while, with their past laid to rest at last.

Kacchan speaks up first.

“Listen, Deku, everything is getting pretty fucking real,” he pauses for a moment. “Shit is really dangerous for any of us, but for you it is like a thousand times worse. Your ass is a fucking death magnet, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“One For All is a big responsibility, Kacchan, but it’s not yours.” He does his best to keep his voice low and soft, the weight of the legacy crushing him.

“The Hell is not!” Kacchan retorts vehemently. “You made it my deal the moment you told me!” Izuku winced. “What’s up with that? Wasn't that the biggest secret ever? Are you that much of a blabber mouth?”

Izuku clutches his arm harder.

“I wasn’t going to let you think I lied all those years.” He explains, and in a moment of bravery, he continues. “I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Kacchan.”

The anger in his voice disappears as fast as it came.

“I know that, idiot.” His bigger hand finds Izuku’s hip. “One for All is your responsibility, but you are mine.” Izuku is pretty sure he stops breathing. “Since we were fucking four years old, and you were this quirkless little shit that wouldn’t quit chasing after me, no matter how much I pushed you away.” Kacchan scoffs and his breath tickles him. “Well, congrats, dumbass, now you have me and I’m not going anywhere.” His heart flies to his throat and doesn’t let any word come out. Kacchan growls, clearly bothered by his silence. “All for One VS One For All is the fucking shit show for the ages, and of course you, Deku of all people, have to be right in the middle of that crap.” He talks through clenched teeth, and Izuku longs to soothe him, but there’s nothing he can say to fix the situation. “All those who fell against that fucking maniac and now you have to-” Kacchan chokes up, and punches Izuku on the arm. “Whatever, there's nothing I can do for those nobodies that came before you, but you have an advantage over them.”

“What’s that?” He whispers in a small voice, not believing he is having this conversation in bed with his childhood friend.

“You have me,” Kacchan utters, and Izuku feels like he hit him with an explosion, sweeping his feet from under him. “Just let me set something straight, Deku, I’m not going to be your fucking sidekick, you hear me? You watch my back and I watch yours. I don’t trust anyone to keep up with you.”

I don’t trust anyone else to protect you.

“Kacchan-”

“You deal with this crap once and for fucking all, Deku, and we come up on top.” Kacchan declares, Izuku can hear the smirk in his words, and he has to smile back. “I don’t settle for anything but the best, and taking down fucking evil incarnated, I’m in, Deku, I’m all in.” He disentangles them, leaning back with a vulnerable expression, and offers his hand for Izuku to clasp. “What do you say?”

Izuku wants to say no, push him away from danger and lock him somewhere where he is going to be safe, but he knows Kacchan. He is determined, stubborn to a fault, and braver than anyone he has met. If he sets his mind on protecting Izuku, nothing is going to stop Kacchan, not even him.

That’s why Izuku loves him like he does.

In this space, with just the two of them, Izuku can be honest with himself: He is scared, and he has been for a while.

Scared of not living up to All Might’s hopes.

Scared of never mastering this power.

Scared of letting down all the people that gave up their lives to take down All For One.

Scared of being the wrong choice.

At the end of the day, Midoriya Izuku is terrified of not being enough.

In the midst of all the fear and doubt, he sees Kacchan; the person Izuku admires the most, the hero he has chased since he was four years old, and the driving force behind his progress. Kacchan, who knows all of him, and understands him because he sees Izuku for who he is, all the good and bad parts.

His Kacchan, who is now offering to help him and ease his burden, risking his dream, his precious life in the process, to stay close to Izuku and protect him.

A part of him, the one that imitates All Might, is screaming at him that he has to reject the support, to do it on his own. He should hold the weight of the legacy by himself. However, the other part of him, the one that believes Kacchan is what victory looks like, tells him he isn’t All Might and he doesn’t have to be.

He is Midoriya Izuku, and he is allowed to live his life and fight his battles on his terms, just as Kacchan does.

He clasps his hand, and Kacchan smiles, without a trace of mockery or anger, just plain happiness and relief lifting the corners of his mouth. Izuku hasn't seen him smile like that in years, and he needs to say something. He means to say yes to his offer, maybe thank him, but what comes out instead is:

“I love you.”

The punched out gasp that Kacchan lets out shocks Izuku more than his confession does. He can’t believe the words he has hidden for so long in his heart escaped that easily. More shocking is the fact that he doesn’t want to take it back. Even if he is scared of many things, Kacchan isn’t one of them. Yes, Kacchan frustrates him, he worries him, and makes him nervous, but Izuku is not scared of him, never has been. He can die any day now, any of them can, and he is done with silencing his feelings.

Kacchan is not screaming or scowling, neither he is leaping out of the bed and running away from him, so Izuku would say he is mostly stunned, although he doesn’t see why. His feelings for him are a key part of the person he is. Izuku admires him, cares for him.

Izuku loves him.

“Do you mean it?” The question seems to pain him. He hasn’t released his hand.

“Yes, Kacchan.” Izuku is not hiding it, not anymore.

“After everything?”

The words strike his heart and cut deeply. Izuku doesn’t hold any grudge or resentment, and he can’t tolerate the idea of Kacchan thinking he can feel something for him despite their past.

“Because of everything, Kacchan,” Izuku replies, touching their joined hands with his forehead, shying from the red eyes. “The past doesn’t disappear, but that’s not our present, and definitely not our future.” He takes a deep breath to calm his heart. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it to get an answer.”

“Deku, you can do so much better,” Kacchan says, bluntly.

Izuku doesn't let the obvious rejection deter him from speaking with the truth.

“I don’t see how,” he stares at him, mustering a wonky smile. “You are you, Kacchan; you’re brave, honest, loyal, brilliant, and hardworking.” The words spill without filter, and he drinks the sight of his pale skin blushing. “It’s not about doing better, just who I choose, because when it comes down to it, I chose you a long time ago, Kacchan.”

Kacchan tips his head up, the blond strands cloaking his eyes. Izuku refuses to regret coming clean about his feelings, but as the silence grows between them, he starts to fidget. Little by little, he realizes the true weight of his confession, and the bridges he might be burning.

“This doesn’t have to change anything, Kacchan.”

“It changes everything, Deku,” he replies, not missing a beat.

Izuku curses his luck; it was just like him to confess his love right when Kacchan finally came back to him, something Izuku hadn’t dreamt in his wildest dreams. Dealing with these feelings much longer, when they are so powerful and consuming is not possible. Still, he should have tried, for the sake of their friendship.

A callous finger touches his chin, breaking his spiral of thoughts, and lifts his face. The fiery eyes are wide and defenseless, embers instead of the wild inferno Izuku expected.

The first touch of chapped lips is an awakening, and his first kiss is over before he can finish tasting it.

Kacchan leans back, and for the second time in his life, Izuku’s mind goes blank and his body moves on its own, chasing after him. Their second kiss is messy, they don’t have any experience, but Izuku is lost to it. He tries to commit to memory every brush of their lips and ragged gasps, how soft is his blond hair, and the feeling of fingers sinking in his curls, guiding the kiss.

They break apart, but stay close.

"You didn’t have to do that, Kacchan,” he says against his mouth.

“I never do shit I don’t want to do, Deku.”

Izuku grabs him again, bunching up his t-shirt, so full of love that he fears he is going to float away if he doesn’t get a firm grip.

“Deku, I-“ his voice quivers and Izuku kisses him again, softly and reassuringly.

“It’s okay, Kacchan, you don’t have to say anything yet.” Izuku told him because he wanted him to know, but he has had years to come to terms with it. He’s not expecting Kacchan to figure everything out right now.

“You better stick around after that, you damn nerd,” he touches their foreheads together. “Or take me with you. Two options, I’m magnanimous like that.”

Izuku giggles, the sound so foreign after the past weeks.

“Okay, Kacchan, for that I’ll stick around.”

“Or you’ll take me with you.”

Izuku is still terrified of anything happening to him, but he trusts him the most.

“I’ll stick around or take you with me,” he promises, and Kacchan nods satisfied, wrapping Izuku in his arms and hugging him closer. “I thought you said I stink.”

“You fucking do,” Kacchan says immediately. “When I think about this, the first thing that is going to pop into my mind is that my first kiss smelled like a wet dog.”

Izuku laughs until he cries, and Kacchan joins him.

At one point, his back is to Kacchan, and he’s playing with his hands. Izuku’s so relaxed his eyes are drifting close, sleep taking over.

“Hey, Deku,”

“Yes, Kacchan?” he says drowsily.

“You have magnificent taste.”

Izuku snorts, pulling his arm tighter around him.

“I’m going to sleep now,” he murmurs, and he jumps when Kacchan buries his face on the crook of his neck. “Wake me up if something happens.”

“You can trust me, Deku, nobody is going to pass through me.”

Izuku believes him with his entire heart, but he still chooses to only think and not say what crosses his mind before falling asleep in his arms:

I would die before letting anything happen to you.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bnha 322 #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #happy bakudeku day guys!

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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Ah, and now onto one of the most depressing chapters in all of SnK, chapter 132.

You know, if anyone ever needed a reason to despise Floch any more, how about the fact that he’s literally the reason Hange died? If this bitch ass ho hadn’t shot the fuel tank of the plane full of holes, Hange wouldn’t have had to engage with the Titans to buy time for them to fix it, and they wouldn’t have died. So, fuck you Floch. I wish you’d suffered more before Mikasa finally ended your ass.

Well, anyway, what can I say about this chapter that hasn’t already been discussed? Probably nothing, but I’ll try my best to give my observations anyway.

This really is Hange’s chapter, and Levi’s, in terms of putting a spot light on the importance of their relationship to one another.

Hange’s sacrifice in this chapter is heartbreaking, it truly is, and such a major blow to everyone. But to Levi most of all, and for so many reasons.

First of all, what stands out to me is the exchange between them, after Pieck tells Hange to stop being “gross”. What I want to talk about here is when Hange asks Levi if he thinks their dead comrades are watching, and if he thinks they’ll be proud of what they do here today. Levi tells Hange to stop talking like “him”, meaning of course Erwin. This scene is just heart-wrenching, and part of that is, I think, because of Levi’s reaction to what Hange is saying. He has, once again, such a weary, resigned looked on his face, and it’s because, I think, of the parallels he sees with Erwin. I think Levi already knows, at this point, that Hange is going to die, in some way. He recognizes the same, fatalistic bent to Hange’s mindset as he saw in Erwin, that day in Shinganshina, the same burden of guilt. Just as Erwin began to bow and break under the weight of all the lives that had been lost under his command, Hange too is beginning to break, overcome by despair and hopelessness at what they perceive to be their failures. Hange expresses this outright in the scene with Yelena, when Yelena tries forcing everyone to admit that Zeke was right, and Hange just resignedly agrees, saying that it was because of their failure to come up with a plan, because of their loss of hope, that Eren’s done what he has. Of course, this isn’t true, just like Erwin blaming himself for the deaths of all those soldiers wasn’t based in any kind of truth. But the sense of guilt is the same. Hange blames themselves for what’s happening now, and they say this in front of everyone, including Levi. And then Hange says what they do to Levi, about their dead comrades, and I think this must have been like the worst kind of deja vu to Levi, this kind of guilt driving Hange towards despair and hopelessness. He tells Hange “Don’t you start talking like him, too...” because he can’t bear it. He can’t bear to see his last, true friend succumb to the same fate as Erwin.

And then the Rumbling shows up, and Hange refuses for anyone else to engage with the Titans but themselves. They tell everyone “I’m the one who led us here. I pressed on, even at the cost of so many lives. Time to face the music.”, and it’s Hange willingly taking on the role of martyr, the same one Levi had to help Erwin to accept for himself, in order to give their comrades a chance at victory. Hange’s selflessness here is the definition of heroic. True, unwavering conviction to what they believe is right.

But once again, similarly to Levi’s final push to help Erwin become the commander everyone believed him to be, Levi recognizes for Hange, in their final moment together, what it is they need. He doesn’t try to stop Hange, doesn’t try to convince them against their chosen course of action, doesn’t cry out after them. The same way Levi recognized in Erwin the way he was being crushed under the weight of his guilt, and understood how it would be a mercy and a salvation to make for him the decision to let go of his dream and die, Levi also recognizes in Hange that same burden and suffocating sense of guilt, and knows this is a decision Hange has made for themselves, their final absolution and ownership of their past choices, and that this is the thing Hange needs to relieve them of their burden. A way for them to bear the burden of their past choices without regret. Hange implores Levi to let them walk away and do this, and Levi does, because he understands, the same as he understood with Erwin.

But we finally see in full view the consequences for Levi in making these decisions, in letting his two, closest friends go to their deaths for the sake of their cause. Levi’s expression in the following three panels is one of such unfathomable heartbreak. He looks like a man utterly resigned to losing every good thing in his life, conscious and accepting of life’s bitter injustice and the grief of loss, but no less affected by it. Levi is in so much obvious pain here. Not physical (though obviously there’s that), but emotional and mental. Hange is it for him. They’re his last, real connection, his last, true friend, his last person. And he has to let them go here. Both for the sake of humanity, and for Hange’s own sake as well. It truly is the bitterest pill to swallow. And once again, it is a desperately heartbreaking display of Levi’s own selflessness, that he lets Hange go, that he lets Hange do this thing that needs to be done, without complaint, without protest, without influence from his own feelings, sacrificing once more what would be best for him for the sake of everyone else. Levi looks devastated as he lays his fist against Hange’s chest and tells them “dedicate your heart”. This final acceptance of his own, tragic loss, and Hange’s own choice to sacrifice their life.

And it continues when Hange flies away, at last, and we see Levi standing with the rest of their group. Everyone around Levi has expressions of shock, dismay, and disbelief. They haven’t yet accepted that this is happening, that Hange is flying to their death to buy them the time they need. They look astonished and horrified. But Levi is the lone exception. He doesn’t look shocked, or disbelieving, but only continues to carry that same expression of weary, despairing resignation and acceptance. And I think what we see in Levi, in this final arc is, in many ways, the culmination of a lifetime of loss and grief. Levi’s lost more than probably any other character in SnK. He’s experienced the most extreme forms of poverty and depravation from the time he was born, and with the death of Hange, has now lost every, single person that he ever formed any kind of close bond with. With Hange’s death, Levi is left finally, completely alone. And the look of defeat on Levi’s face throughout this entire arc is, I think, reflective of the affirmation he must feel, of the cruelty and injustice of life’s indifference to the suffering of everyone. Every experience in Levi’s life has driven home to him the lesson, again and again, of the unfairness and cruelty of existing in this world. And the events of this final arc, Eren’s betrayal, Zeke’s manipulations and cruelties, the deaths of so many comrades, the Rumbling, violence and destruction and allies turning against one another, and finally, Hange’s death, can only solidify for him the hopeless cynicism he’s fought against all his life, the awful comprehension of life’s brutality. With Hange’s death, Levi is made to face once more what he’s always, deep down, known, which is that to exist in this world is to suffer with no purpose.

And yet, still, Levi fights on. He accepts Hange’s death with all the pain the loss crushes him down with. He tells Hange goodbye, and asks them to “Just watch us.”. Because even with the affirmation of all of Levi’s greatest despairs, he still finds a reason to make the fight worth it. To realize the dream they all fought for, the salvation and future of humanity, and through the realization of that dream, to give meaning and importance to the lives of all those who have died in that dreams name, and meaning and importance to the lives of those yet still there. Levi refuses, still, to give up, refuses to accept the futility and insignificance of people’s lives, even as he’s so ruthlessly reminded again and again of it. And it’s in Hange, I think, that Levi finds that strength. Because Hange also refused to give up. Like they told Floch as he bled out, “We still can’t give up. Even if we fail here, now, maybe someday...” Maybe someday, life really will get better. Maybe someday, people won’t have to suffer so much. Maybe someday, there really will be a point to all of it. Even in the face of total despair, Hange and Levi both found reasons to keep fighting.

Also, just some smaller observations about Levi’s physical state, and what it also says about his determination to not give up, but also about his perception of himself.

Levi is doing BAD here. I didn’t notice this on my first read through, but when they’re all gearing up with their ODM gear, Levi is the only one sitting down on a crate, while everyone else is standing. We see earlier in the chapter, when he leaves his room on the boat, he can’t even stand without the support of a handrail on the upper deck, or Armin’s arm around his shoulders. And then when we see him testing his grip on the handle of his ODM’s blade, his hand is visibly shaking. Levi’s physically too weak to stand on his own at this point, too weak to even hold his blades steady. He must be in absolutely horrific pain. Probably dizzy and lightheaded, probably nauseas even. He’s FAILING physically. On the verge, it seems, of collapse. The fact that he’s even up and making the effort to move is something of a miracle, let alone that he’s prepared to engage in intense, physical combat, which just a short time later, he DOES. That’s remarkable, and such a testament to Levi’s incredible will and unwavering conviction to fight for humanity. He’s dying. I think literally, he’s extremely close to death, genuinely frail. But he still is ready and willing to give his all. I think, over the course of the few chapters before this one, it must have been horrifically hard for Levi to sit by and watch as everyone else risked their lives to fight. This isn’t something Levi is used to, being helpless and unable to fight for others. He isn’t used to letting others take the risk while he stays back. When Levi comes out of his cabin and Armin tries to convince him to go back to bed, Levi snaps with impatience that if he keeps resting, they’re all going to forget he even exists. This reveals a lot about Levi’s perception of himself as someone who needs to make himself useful in order to matter. As a tool to utilize. He feels useless and like dead weight if he isn’t able to fight, and so, even on deaths door, he pushes himself to do just that, to become a weapon to be used in the coming battle. It’s heartbreaking, to see Levi regard himself this way, even as it proves his incredible devotion and heart. Once again, his own well being takes a backseat to the cause of others. His health is secondary, in his mind. For someone who always shows so much compassion and kindness and understanding for others, it makes it doubly heartbreaking, to see that Levi can’t manage the same compassion for himself, can’t give himself a break, or a pass for his weakness. That he can’t allow himself that vulnerability, or for others to fight for him, even as all his life, he’s done nothing but fight for others.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman #hange zöe #snk 132 #meta #thoughts

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writersmorgue · 3 years

Text

Nightmare Material

15+ for graphic descriptions of violence, blood, and gore

can be read as slash or platonic

not proofread

“SHUT UP DEKU! OH MY GOD, CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES?!”

The common room goes silent.

“Woah, Bakubro, he just asked if you were busy,” Kirishima chuckles nervously.

Katsuki looks over to Deku who, as expected, already has tears welling in his eyes.

“Shitty crybaby, of course I’m busy can’t you fuckin’ see? Go bother someone who cares.”

Deku sniffles like the pathetic little child that he is, and nods, “Ok Kacchan.”

“Fuckin’ annoying ass-” Katsuki mutters, ignoring the glares as he stomps out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time before slamming the door shut behind him, imagining the flinches of his classmates as he does so.

Fuck that fucking nerd, always looking down at him. Asking him for help on math of all things, when he fuckin’ knows that’s Katsuki’s worst subject. Fuck him.

The little shit shouldn’t even be here, he’s not on Katsuki’s level. Just gonna get himself killed.

After a few minutes of grumbling into his pillow, there’s a knock at Katsuki’s door, followed by a meek, “Blasty?”

He groans dramatically and flops over onto his back, propelling himself up with a few controlled explosions.

“Fuckin’ what-” He swings the door open and comes face to face with the entire idiot squad.

Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Kaminari all stand in front of him, Sero nervously wringing his hands, Kaminari avoiding eye contact, and Kirishima giving him a look.

Mina steps to the front of them, patting Kirishima’s shoulder as she does so.

“Blasty, you really gotta stop.” She stares him straight in the eyes, not backing down no matter how hard he glares.

“Stop fuckin’ what.”

Kirishima places a hand on Mina’s chest, stalling her step forward into Katsuki’s space. “You know what, Bakugo.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, “Oh please, like the little shit can’t handle some yelling. I’ve seen discount hot topic make his ears bleed-”

“This isn’t about Jirou. This is about you. You need to sort your shit out.” Sero’s frowning, a rare sight.

“Oh?” Katsuki quirks an eyebrow, “Or what?”

There’s a tense silence before Kaminari sniffs. “Or- or we won’t be your friends anymore!!” He stutters, bottom lip wobbling.

The rest of the group nods, one by one giving him a last glance.

Katsuki stands there for a few minutes, mainly thinking, but also fuming

How dare they treat him like that, like trash. He’s not trash, and he’s not the bad guy. He’s just trying to save Deku before it’s too late. Stupid idiot won’t last a day in the hero business, even with his new freak quirk. All it’s good for is hurting the nerd.

“Stupid Deku and his stupid protection squad, fuckin’ blind idiots.” He grumbles, slamming the door and returning to his lair.

He changes his clothes, resigning himself to finishing his weekend at the gym instead of on next week’s homework.

Bakugo stomps through the common room on the way to their practice room, a few of his classmates shoot him glares but he’s ignored for the most part. Something noticeably purposeful since he’s not exactly being quiet. Even Kirishima refuses to acknowledge his presence.

Yeah, that hurts.

He runs for two hours, lifts for one, and finishes with core for thirty minutes before his post-workout cooldown ritual. Thoroughly satiated and tired to the bone, he heads back to his dorm. Ignored this way too, he doesn’t bother saying goodnight to anyone. Not that he would usually. Not that he misses Ashido’s “Night blasty!!” on his way up the stairs.

He doesn’t give a shit.

He scrubs at his body with his last bits of energy and brushes his teeth half dead on his feet. Exhausted, he flops down on his bed and passes out almost immediately.

…

Someone’s screaming.

Katsuki lunges toward Shigaraki, whose hand barely grazes Izuku’s neck.

Izuku? When did he ever call the nerd something other than-

“DEKU!!!” Oh, he was the one screaming. He blasts himself forward and pushes Izuku out of the way, his dusted skin flaking off into the breeze as green hair skids to a stop on the ground below.

“Damn BRAT-” Shigaraki mutters, angrily scrunching his hand in mid-air before turning his attention to Katsuki. “YOU.” He points a cracked, pointed finger at Katsuki.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do about it old man?” He snorts, preparing his arms to blast again, he can feel the resistance from his last jump.

“You saved the little shit,” Shigaraki mutters to himself, nails dragging roughly down his neck, “must have a relationship, must be close to my enemy. Must die-”

Katsuki raises his hand, palms crackling in defiance, but he’s geared to go anyway.

Nothing happens.

“Fuck goddamnit!” His one fucking chance to get a drop on the guy and he’s out of juice? Fucking really?!

He’s so caught up in his fury he doesn’t notice the mad glint in the enemy’s eye. The way he smiles brokenly, bloody tongue barely peeking out.

“Poor little hero.” He mutters.

Katsuki jerks his head up just in time to see five fingers inches away from his face.

Well, this was fun.

“KATSUKI-” There’s pressure on his side and he falls, belatedly realizing he was pushed out of the way.

He looks hits the ground hard, hearing the reverberated snap of his ankle as it breaks.

“FALL HERO!! FALL BEFORE ME! YOUR NEW GO-”

Shigaraki falls to the ground as Todoroki whacks him over the head with a piece of rebar.

HIs normally stoic expression is frantic, he’s got fresh tears streaking down his face, and his forehead is covered in dried blood.

He tears his eyes away from the downed villain as Kirishima comes to cuff him, and screams in anguish at the sight of Izuku- Something Katsuki is still trying to wrap his head around.

A startled, almost pained sound escapes Katsuki as he half limps, half runs towards his best friend.

...best friend?

“IZUKU!”

Izuku has long since crumbled to his knees, clutching what remains of the left side of his face. Still slowly crumbling away. Blood pours down his arm and neck, making it difficult to see, but the sight of his eye frantically widening as Katsuki sits next to him is enough.

He removes his hand and sobs, throwing himself onto Katsuki.

“Eih- hgo-” He chokes, blood soaking Katsuki’s own suit as he rocks them both.

“Shh, it’s okay, Izuku.” He whispers, making eye contact with a sobbing Todoroki, who nods in approval.

“Izuku you’re gonna be fine.” The shock has yet to remove itself from Katsuki’s voice, and his words are filled with cracks and sobs, but he hopes it’s what Izuku needs.

“Aa- aah” Izuku’s broken kacchan followed by a fresh flow of blood down Katuski’s neck.

“I love you, Izuku. It’s gonna be alright.”

Izuku whimpers, clutching onto the blond’s neck for dear life.

And then he goes limp.

Katsuki’s eyes bug out, and he pulls Izuku arm’s length away. The gruesome sight that greets him is one he’ll never forget.

Izuku’s left eye hangs loosely down the side of his mangled cheekbone and jaw. Katsuki can see teeth starting to crumble as the decay works its way through his face. His nose is completely exposed, with no flesh left. No cute freckles. No scrunch when he smiles. And his other eye, possibly the worst part, stares lifelessly at Katsuki. The last remnants of tears make their way down his face.

He looks… terrified.

He died scared in the arms of his abuser. Someone who never even apologized to him. For fucking anything. Some vile part of Katsuki reminds him.

He saved me because I couldn’t do my fucking job.

He thrusts Izuku’s lifeless body into Shouto’s arms, who lets out a heartwrenching sob. Katsuki scrambles back, and can vaguely register the sound of pink cheeks vomiting behind him.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” becoming increasingly more desperate with each utterance of the word, “FUCK!” Kirishima comes up behind him, picking him off the dust-covered ground and holding him to his chest. “This is all my fault!!!” He wails, “He fucking saved me, I couldn’t- this isn’t right no no NO-”

“Shhhh Katsuki-” Eijirou soothes him through his own tears, always the constant in Katsuki’s life. Well, after Deku.

Deku Deku Deku.

Dead Deku.

Because of you.

Katsuki takes another good look at Deku’s face where Shouto had freaked and discarded him on the ground. The unnatural bend of his arms, the bloody drool escaping his parted- if you can even call that a mouth anymore, his eyes.

And he screams.

He screams and he screams and he screams until someone shakes him so hard he wakes up.

Wait-

“BAKUGO!!! WAKE UP PLEASE-” Shitty hair screams at him, shaking his shoulders desperately as he thrashes in his sheets.

He stills, staring up at Kirishima with a shocked expression.

“Wh-”

“You were having a nightmare,” Kirishima explains, gasping for breath like he just ran a marathon.

Katsuki looks to the doorway where half of the boys in their class stand, expressions varying from worried to shocked.

He looks back at Kirishima, a pitiful whimper escaping his throat, “It- it wasn’t real?”

Katsuki looks to the door, half expecting to see Izuku there.

Missing an ear, you can see his tongue through his cheek.

Katsuki gulps, “Where’s Izuku?” He murmurs into the quiet room.

“Izuku?” Someone in the hallway mutters.

“Uh,” Kirishima catches himself before he can say something dumb, “Izu?- Uh- Midoriya is probably in his room. Didn’t think you’d want him here, but he knows. You kinda woke up the whole dorm.”

Kirishima has barely finished the sentence before he’s jumping out of bed, pajamas be damned, and sprinting toward the stairs. When he gets to Izuku’s floor he makes a hard right, Icyhot shouting something about being nice behind him.

Katsuki can yell at him later.

Running gives him time to think, and the more Katsuki thinks the more he realizes that his nightmare might as well have been a prophecy. Izuku would pull some martyr shit like that, but it was only Katsuki’s fault in the first place that he was put in that situation. He’s the only one to blame. Izuku had done everything right, and Katsuki managed to fuck it up.

Hollow socket, tendons hanging, blood turning his green suit a muddied brown.

Katsuki knocks on the door frantically, scared about what he’ll see when Izuku answers.

There’s some rustling from inside before Izuku peeks out, green curls messy from sleep.

“Wh- I thought Aoyama said you were having a nightmare.” His eyebrows furrow.

“I was,” Katsuki breathes, taking in how whole his rival is. “But it wasn’t real.”

He reaches out hesitantly and brushes an unruly lock of green out of Izuku’s left eye.

“Everything’s where it should be-” He chuckles almost in bewilderment.

He drags his fingers gently down Izuku’s cheek, tracing where the decay had rotted away skin, now whole.

A few of the classmates who followed him gasp in surprise when Katsuki clutches Izuku’s shoulders and buries his face in soft green hair. Completely breaking down as he sobs.

Izuku freezes, terrified of ruining the moment, even though he really wants to ask someone what the fuck is happening.

He gives Kirishima a questioning look as he hesitantly rubs along Katsuki’s back.

The redhead just shrugs.

“I’m sorry Izuku.”

Aaaand the damn breaks.

Izuku sobs as Katsuki clutches him tighter, their friends begin to awkwardly back out of the hallway after witnessing whatever that was.

“Wh- Kacchan?” He pulls away reluctantly, but he needs to see Katsuki’s face.

The blond’s eyes are red and puffy, same as his cheeks, but he’s dead serious.

“I’m so fucking sorry. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, you’re a really good guy.” He heaves in a breath, “And- I know you’ll be a great hero someday.”

“Kacchan… why?”

Katsuki looks away, “I just- thought about some things,” He doesn’t mention that the thinking involved seeing his classmate’s bloodied corpse, “realized how full of myself I am. You really did just want help on that math homework, huh?” He huffs, shaking his head at his past self.

“I did. What else would I have wanted?”

Katsuki sniffs, angrily rubbing at his eyes, “I don’t know, Izuku. I’m a fucking idiot.”

Izuku smiles sadly, “All I’ve ever wanted is to be your friend, Kacchan.

The blond nods, “Yeah, I think I see that now. Can- can we still do that? Be friends?”

Izuku beams, rubbing his own tears away and pulling Katsuki into another tight hug.

“There’s nothing I want more, Katsuki.”

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Our Song

At the last show of his tour, Kells invites you on stage for a duet, but it turns into a bit more than that.

Request: “Can you do one where the reader and Colson both are music artist. I know you're doing this with "The Thing We Can't Tell Pete about. But with this one they have been dating for a while and while they are in the middle of the song Colson decides to announce they're dating and gives her a kiss in front of the crowd, and the reader is just in shock. However it ends it up to you. Love ya!!!!!!!!”

Colson Baker x Reader

Warnings: implied smut/ mentions of sex, cursing

A/N: So, I used my own lyrics in here because why not (sue me I guess)

Word Count: 2326

The last two months had been absolute hell on Earth. Yes, you loved your job. Recording your third studio album was exciting but being busy all the time was exhausting. On top of that, your boyfriend being off on tour meant you hadn’t seen him in person in two months, which was driving you even more insane.

It also meant you hadn’t had sex in almost two months.

You’d called each other every night, even if you were both drunk off your asses or faded beyond belief. It had become your routine; get home from the studio, grab something to eat, then hop into the bath and facetime your blond boyfriend.

Tonight, was no exception, but the energy on the call was different. Colson was coming home tomorrow. Granted, he would be going straight to the venue for his concert, but he’d be here.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right princess?” He asked, a joint hanging from his lips.

You smiled, nodding, “I haven’t seen you in two months. If I’m not there, you should assume I’m dead.”

He chuckled, “good.” He hesitated before continuing, “I was thinking you could perform with me. We haven’t performed White Sea in like a year.”

You bit your lip at the thought of performing with him again. He was right, after you’d finished live performance promo for the song, neither of you had performed it together. “Yeah, I’m down.”

The song was the first one you’d written together; it was actually the whole reason you’d met. “You don’t think people will get suspicious though? I mean, people are already catching on. I feel like performing it out of the blue would add fire to the flames.”

He thought about it, the wheels turning in his head. “I think it’ll be fine. Besides, it’s not exactly a secret.”

You nodded, “I know, we’ve just never really talked about telling people.” The last two words came out softer than you had intended.

Colson and you had been together for a year and still hadn’t officially told anyone outside of your closest circles. You liked the privacy, and getting the media involved always caused problems. So, you kept it to yourself. People saw you out together, but nothing had been confirmed.

Colson left the conversation there, not having a good answer. You had both agreed a long time ago that if people figured it out or someone slipped up and told you would be okay with it, and you would. You just didn’t think it was a big deal if people knew or not.

He started talking about his day on tour, the crowd he’d played to tonight. You told him about the song you were working on. Eventually he got called away by the boys.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.” He smiled at you through your phone.

You smiled, “You better. I-“ You almost slipped up. Almost said those three words so casually. But you’d caught yourself. “I can’t wait.” You covered.

He gave you a small wave before your screen went back, the sound of the line disconnecting ringing through your bathroom. You put your phone on the floor next to the tub, leaning your head back and sighing.

You don’t know why it worried you so much. You knew you loved him, and you were pretty sure he loved you too. There was just something about saying out loud that scared the hell out of you.

The next day was amazing. As soon as he texted you that he’d gotten to the venue, you were rushing to meet him there. When you stepped into the green room where he was, he ran up to you and grabbed you by your waist. Your arms went around his neck, legs around his as he lifted you up, burying his face into your shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” He mumbled into your skin. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, holding him closely.

“I missed you too.” You whispered. He lifted his head up and pressed a deep kiss to your lips as your feet came down to touch the floor again. His lips were so familiar, it felt like the world had shifted back into place when you felt them on yours.

He pulled away, forehead and nose still pressed against yours. Your hands travelled from his neck to his shoulders, rubbing the fabric of his t-shirt. “I didn’t think I was gonna survive another night without you.” You said with a slight giggle, making him laugh.

“Well now you don’t have to worry about that.” He said, pressing a peck to your lips.

Before you could pull him back to your lips, your moment was interrupted. “We get it, you guys are cute. Whatever. Can we get hugs from our favorite girl?” Irv joked, pulling your attention to the group of guys near the couches in the room.

One of the things you loved most about being with Colson was how accepting his friends were of you. Slim and you had bonded over your love of music production and mixing, Baze had taught you some more complicated bass riffs, and Rook was your designated adventure buddy (after Colson, of course). You felt lucky that your boyfriend’s family had taken you in as one of their own.

You ran over to them, giving each of the guys a hug. When you hugged Ashleigh, she whispered in your ear, “don’t ever leave me alone with these lunatics again.” You both giggled at that, leaving the boys confused.

After messing around backstage for a while and catching up with your friends (mostly from the comfort of Colson’s lap), it was time for the guys to perform. You set up your spot side-stage with Ash, Irv, and Andre, excited to see the set.

Before he went on, Colson came over to you and pulled you in for a very giddy kiss. Pre-show Colson was your favorite Colson, except for maybe post-show Colson, only because he was so excitable. Every time you sat show side, he demanded you give him a good luck kiss. No matter who was watching.

Watching him was magical, in fact watching all the boys was magical. The way their passion showed through the music and the performance was something that not many other artists could perfect. You felt like you’d never match their level of performing.

When Colson brought out his acoustic guitar and two bar stools, you were a bit taken aback. Normally his shows were so high energy that he never wanted to sit down, even during the slower songs. It wasn’t really his style.

“I wanted to bring out a very special guest today to help slow this down a bit.” He said to the crowd as they screamed. “I haven’t performed this song in a very long time, but I figured today would be the perfect time to do it.”

He looked over at you, a smile on his face. It finally registered in his mind that he was talking about your song. Luckily, you’d had ears put in at the beginning of the show, so that wasn’t an issue. One of the venue’s techs handed you a microphone and signaled you to go on stage.

Once you came in view of the audience they erupted into another round of cheers, making you smile. Colson met you halfway and pulled you in for a sweaty hug. He led you over to the chairs, letting you sit down while he adjusted his mic stand. “For those of you who don’t know, not that there should be anyone who doesn’t know who this is, but just in case, this is Y/S/N. We wrote this song a little over a year ago today.”

You smiled as he started to strum the familiar intro, the lights dimming just a little bit.

Drownin’ in empty space.

You started singing.

Don’t even know my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

It’s okay

Rook brought the drum beat in as Colson smiled at you, his verse starting

Yeah

I was drownin’ in this darkness

Feeling like I was so heartless

All these drugs makin things harder

They tried to turn me to a martyr

You loved watching him party on stage, but you loved watching this side of him, too. Completely stripped down and raw. Hearing him rap the words you wrote together made your heart flutter, even if you’d written them so long ago.

I can’t handle shit I’m just a man

I tried to tell ‘em, they don’t understand

Riptide’s pulling me away from land

I couldn’t stand till you reached out your hand

And now I can.

The rest of the music came in, the sounds mixing as you began the chorus.

Drownin’ in empty space

Don’t even my name

Feels like you’re miles away

Close my eyes, see your face

The key raised.

Out on the open sea

Feel your eyes watching me

Wanted to fall asleep

Now I believe.

The music kept playing, but Colson’s rap didn’t enter like it was supposed to. Instead, he just looked at you, a fond smile on his face. You tilted your head, questioning him, but he just placed his guitar on the ground and kept looking at you.

“I just want to let everyone here know, that today is my one-year anniversary with this amazing woman right here.” He said into the mic, causing the audience to burst into screams. Your jaw dropped, eyes widening.

He caught your expression and laughed but kept going. “It wasn’t a secret that we’ve been together, but we’ve been quiet about it. But I mean, like, fuck that shit. When you’re in love you should tell everyone, right?”

You smiled at him, your heart picking up speed. “And Y/N I am so fucking in love with you.”

You looked down, trying to hide the heat on your cheeks and the idiotic grin you were sporting. You had never expected this from him. “Like, seriously, this past year has been the best year of my life. Even when we aren’t together you are the one thing that I look forward to the most, every day. You are one of the best things in my life, and I want everyone to know that.”

During his little monologue he had walked over to your chair and pulled you up into his arms. You nuzzled your face into his bare chest, making him laugh. He pulled the microphone away from you both so it wouldn’t pick up your conversation.

“Hey, look at me.” He said softly and you complied. “I love you.”

You had tears in your eyes as you studied his perfect features, “I love you, too.” You whispered. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while I just…”

“I know, princess.” He smiled, leaning down and pressing your lips together in a sweet, passionate kiss. The audience erupted in applause, cheers, and awes. “Are you gonna say anything?” He asked once you’d pulled away, motioning to the audience with a smile on his face. You shook your head, burying it back in his chest and laughing. He spoke into the microphone, “she got all shy now.”

The crowd laughed with him, shouting supportive comments at you both. “But she said she loves me too so that’s all that matters.” He continued, earning even more cheers.

After the show, Colson came backstage and immediately attached his lips to yours, hands holding you close. You pulled him into one of the unused dressing rooms, mouths never leaving each other. He hoisted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, and leaned your back against the mirror.

Finally, he released your lips from his, making you whine. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about all this, but after last night I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore. And you just looked so pretty out there that I-“ You cut him off with a kiss, lips moving together slowly.

He chuckled as you pulled away. “Colson, I loved it. I was hella embarrassed because the first time you told me you loved me was in front of thousands of people, but I loved it. And I love you.”

He smiled, pressing a peck to your lips. “How much do you love me?” He asked, slyly.

You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing something was up. “Depends on your next statement.”

A laugh fell from his mouth as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Because I really hope it’s a lot.”

“What are you doing?” You asked him, giggling.

He lifted the lid off of the box to reveal a key with your first initial painted on one side and a C on the other. “You don’t have to, but if you wanted to maybe think about moving in with me, now you have a key.” He smiled as you took the metal in your hands.

You looked up at him with wide eyes, lips open in shock. “So, you’re asking me to move in with you?” You confirmed.

“Only if you want to. But yes.”

You smiled, looking back down to the key and then up to his face before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your waist. “Of course, I want to, dummy.” You giggled and reconnected your lips.

“We’re supposed to go out and celebrate the last night of tour tonight, you’re gonna come, right?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“You act like I don’t wanna be around you.” You pushed his chest playfully. “But we might be a couple minutes late.” You smirk.

Colson raised an eyebrow, “oh yeah? And why is that?”

Instead of responding you just giggled and pulled him back into a kiss.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

Note

Another first sentence + 5 sentence fic, "I hate it when you're being a martyr!!?"

Lol, next time just send me a sentence. I don't think I'll ever be doing "only" +5 sentences xD

Okay, okay, so this isn't from my *THE* time-travel fic, but the thing is... I just love the idea of a bamf!sterek that go back in time and don't tell anyone about the truth and then comes this CONFRONTATION and everyone else is confused/in awe.

Quick rundown of dynamics, just because: Alpha Talia Hale. Human/Alpha Mate Nathaniel Hale. Betas Peter Hale, Laura Hale, Cora Hale, Claudia Stilinski. Human Noah John Stilinski. Alpha Derek Hale (but he presents as a beta to everyone except Stiles). Human Stiles Stilinski (but he is actually a spark, the strongest there is).

Idk their ages, but you can imagine Stiles as a 15/16 year old teen (he's mentally older, of course, think like... hmm... let's say he came back in time at age 21. So he should be 30, mentally). That makes Derek 21/22 (mentally 36).

Okay, enough rambling, now let's get down to the fic!! I'll be writing this from Laura's POV. Also, tell me if I should post this one on AO3? Now it's on AO3!

The Moon's Come Out

"I hate it when you're being a martyr."

Stiles' voice is a soft whisper underneath the chaos of blood and death, but it's not quite enough to drown under. It's a resigned exhale of breath, a truth so absolute that it's no longer just a truth. It's a fact.

Laura Hale wonders when her baby brother aligned himself to such a fact. She wonders lots of things about her baby brother.

She remembers the day when it all changed. When Derek changed. It was subtle, but it was prominent.

She remembers when she'd helped Derek with his flirting skills. Paige, she remembers; the same Paige who had once held Derek's eyes had been rendered into nothing that day. No, not nothing—something else. Something deeper. Something like grief.

But why would Derek grieve someone living? It's a mystery, but more than that it's an act shared between Derek and Stiles—like they're barely tethered to the world, and every moment with anyone but each other is like a gift and a curse, all in one.

But this isn't the time to think about it, how it feels like she's lost Derek once.

It's time to save him.

"Mom," her voice is a barely there sound, but her mom, her Alpha, she's here.

And she's silently crying.

"Mom, we need to- need to help him,"

Her mom is nodding her head, and they're moving between the bloody bodies—hunters, who'd come to kill them, only to die by Stiles'... everything.

Laura feels she can save him.

"Stop." Stiles' voice is still a whisper, but it's an order. A command.

Her mom—Alpha Talia Hale—stops in her tracks, and Laura, with her injured leg has to stop with her.

Dad is shouting at Cora to stay back, and John is trying to free Claudia and Peter from their confines, and Laura can hear all that. But right now, her world boils to where Derek is. On the ground, only a few feet away but so, so far away, spitting blood out of his mouth as his healing tries to kick in where the bullets are lodged on his body.

Bullets. Because Derek had jumped in front of the hunters when they started shooting at Peter and Claudia. And they're all wolfsbane laced.

Laura opens her mouth to protest, to shout, but Stiles doesn't let her.

He's always stopped her from talking.

She hates Stiles.

He's taken Derek away from her. From the pack.

"I can deal with this, you don't have to worry,"

"You can't order me around." Laura's eyes flash at her Alpha's tone, and she bares her neck.

Stiles' jaw sets with a determined look. "Oh, yeah? You really think so, Talia?" Laura watches him as he speaks, words fast paced and laced with worry and fear and anger. It's an ensemble of emotions, but even Laura has to admit that there's always been something special about this kid. His hands work as he talks.

"I mean, maybe you do. You Hales always think you know the best, don't you? It's like you think nobody else has any brains but you. Well, except Peter. That fucker is just too clever for his own good and he knows it. But he at least knows not to underestimate others. That's more than I can say for you, Talia. Or Laura. You two are so similar, you know?"

Laura does. She does know. And she is proud of that fact. But Stiles says it like a curse, like being so similar to her own mother—her Alpha—is nothing short of the worst thing.

Laura wonders why. She wonders a lot when it comes to Stiles.

"Stiles," everyone stops at that voice, as if freezing in place would freeze time itself.

Laura has been tortured, she's seen more blood than she needs to today, and she'd cried herself hoarse when they'd started to torture her previously unconscious mom. And then she'd wanted to die when the hunters turned their guns toward Cora, Claudia and Peter. So much so that she'd barely noticed Derek somehow escaping from his own personal confinement, the shackles he was in, all of it covered in wolfsbane. Neither had she witnessed Stiles breaking the literal cage the humans of their pack had been put in. But the thing that truly, truly scares her isn't any of those things. No.

It's losing Derek. Her baby brother (he used to hate it when she called him that, but when he changed, that hate turned into a grieving sort of fondness, like this was something he'd missed), who feels more like an adult than she is, her Derek. She can't lose him. She just can't.

It would break her. It would break the pack. Derek has always been the heart of it, the sweet little kid who is adored by his sisters and trusted by his parents; the man who even Peter respects, and Claudia cherishes like her own son, and John who calls him a good man.

It's no surprise they all just stop when Derek speaks for the first time since he was shot. And oh, was it only minutes ago? It feels like hours.

"Finally coherent, huh?" Stiles asks Derek, like Derek speaking right now is no big deal. Like it's that easy to try and repel the poison of wolfsbane.

"Shut up," Derek coughs out, voice throaty and weak.

"Derek," someone calls out. It's choked with tears, and it's a female, and it's her voice. "Derek! Please don't die,"

Derek tries to move his head, but falls back on the ground with a thump. Stiles swats at him, and Laura only now notices that Stiles' hands are covered in blood, one anchored on Derek's chest while the other digs around one of the holes. There's a host of bullets lying on the other side; Stiles throws another bullet there.

Perhaps everyone notices the same thing just then, because everyone makes a noise, a wail of pain and disgust and fear, all of it mixed in one sound.

Her mom has lost all her fight in herself, and Laura deflates, too. Stiles seems to know what he's doing.

And he doesn't seem to care what he sounds like.

"No, shut up? Me? Shut up? I swear to the fucking moon, you asshole, if you die on me I'll follow you. I'll fucking follow you there, because nothing is left for me here, okay, and I know you know that. You know this. How could you even do this to me? I told you to wait for my signal! I never would have let them get hurt, Derek! No, no, shut up! You keep your words to yourself and you listen, you goddamn martyr, you listen.

You made me a promise. When we came back, you promised me we'd be together. Always. We'll fix things, then we'll live, and then we'll die. Together. But you-you broke that promise, Der. You did tha-that,"

Laura is missing something. They all are.

Stiles' voice is a steady stream, a flow broken only by the cracks in his voice and the anger in it. And then it's a whisper, the height of his voice toppled down by his sorrow.

Derek smiles softly, as if Stiles worrying himself to death about him is not a new thing. Like Derek almost dies on a constant basis, and this is a routine they have—Stiles worries, Stiles shouts, and then Derek smiles because he's still here. He isn't gone yet.

Laura watches as Derek puts his weight on his elbows, brings his face close to Stiles'. Nobody interrupts them, still frozen in time, still processing what they just went through. Stiles shuts his eyes.

"I am here. I am here, Stiles," Derek tells Stiles, and Stiles takes a shaky breath, and it hangs there, that breath—the worry, the anger, the pain, everything—between them, before Derek lunges forward and presses his lips against Stiles'.

There are a few sharp breaths, and a hysterical giggle from Claudia. "I told you," she says, and Laura thinks she's saying it to John.

Laura isn't exactly surprised. She's caught them kissing multiple times, and she's always wanted to tattle on them. And she would have, because this is wrong—Stiles is a teenager and Derek is an adult—but Stiles is clever and somehow always a few steps ahead of her. He knows all of her secrets, and she'd rather he didn't but that's not the life she has. No, the life she has is—

—clearer in hindsight. She thinks back on those kisses, shared in the early mornings or late nights, between whispered words that Laura couldn't make out and with a desperation that went beyond the desperation of wanting a good time.

And she looks now, looks at the way Stiles' breaths are shaky and labored, but his hands are steady, even as he brings flames appear out of nowhere and presses it against Derek's bullet wounds. She looks at the way Derek has his forehead pressed against Stiles', and how he moves his head to Stiles' neck at the precise moments that the fire touches his skin. Like he's done this before, knows how to keep his pain between him and Stiles. She looks at the way Stiles' other hand, still bloody, tangles in Derek's hair, comforts him, like he's the only comfort Derek needs in this world.

She looks at the way Derek's body heals, like even his body is used to being hurt like this.

"It all makes sense," Peter's voice brings her out of her thoughts, and she turns to look at him. He's vibrating with excitement. "The way they talk—the way they behave—it all makes sense!"

Laura doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to know how this much blood and death and crying and confusion could ever make sense.

But if knowing is the answer to ease the burden on Stiles' and Derek's shoulders, she'll take it. She will know.

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #laura hale #the hale pack #teen wolf #my fic #thanks for the prompt!

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #Stucky #steve x bucky #Queer!steve rogers #Queer!Steve #Queer!Bucky #Queer!Bucky Barnes #Captain America #pride month #Steve angst #steve fluff #Marvel cinematic universe #Mcu #mcu fic #steve fic

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lochsides · 3 years

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If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power Review

Where do I even begin with 'If I Can't Have Love, I Want Power'? It is such a good album, it's almost criminal. If I had to pick the best album to be released this year, IICHLIWP would be it. Halsey has always been an excellent songwriter, that was never even in question, but it has been proved once again, in case anyone wasn't paying attention. IICHLIWP is an album that covers so much depth in sound and in lyric. The dichotomy of the Madonna and the Whore, as they said in their announcement of the album, is an overarching theme of IICHLIWP and it is articulated so consummately. The references to pregnancies and childbirth are more subtle than I expected but that's what makes them so genius. This is an album where every lyric is intentional.

My favourite songs are ‘The Tradition’, 'Bells in Santa Fe', '1121' and 'Ya'aburnee'. More detailed thoughts on each track are below the cut. Trigger warnings for sexual assault and miscarriages.

The Tradition — This is the first song on the album and Halsey had already fucked me up so there's that. I got full-body chills listening to 'The Tradition'. The production is masterful. There is this darkness that settles in early and ebbs and flows beautifully, not only throughout the song but the album as a whole. 'The Tradition' already sets up so many of themes of this album, but what a way to talk about sexual assault. I am in love with the entire chorus line but I think my favourite lyric is ‘she got the life she wanted but now all she does is cry.’

Bells in Santa Fe — The transition from 'The Tradition' into 'Bells in Santa Fe' was so smooth I didn't even notice that the songs had changed until I looked at my screen. I don't think I could actually describe how much I adore this song if I took up the rest of my life doing so. The production is absolutely God-tier. Everything from the way it keeps building throughout the song to the percussion to the piano on the second chorus and the distortion towards the end is so perfectly done. You will never hear me rave about production this much. What a fucking song! On top of all that, you have the lyrics that are so powerful. When they said 'cause who the fuck would chose this?' it reminded me of my favourite Manicsong, 'Forever... is a long' where they sing 'how could somebody ever love me?' so that stood out to me. I love the cadence on 'secondhand thread in a secondhand bed with a second man's head' but the lyric 'better off dead so I reckon I'm headed to Hell instead' is probably the one that hits the hardest. My escapist, runaway tendencies felt very exposed by the entirety of the pre-chorus.

Easier than Lying — The way she emotes on ‘you lair, you don’t love me’ is fucking everything. I needed to start with that. It’s my favourite aspect of the whole song. And then there is that obvious callback in the bridge. ‘Easier than Lying’ is the punk sound we were promised of IICHLIWP and they delivered. The Grungy electric guitar, the bass, the production!!! This one goes hard and it makes no apologies of it’s anger.

Lilith — ‘I’m disruptive, I’ve been corrupted, and by now I don’t need a fucking introduction.’ I mean what could I possibly say after that??! Honestly, I love the duality of how this line could be about Halsey but it could also be about Lilith, herself. There is a selfishness to 'Lilith' that I love. When you connect that to the mythology of Lilith preying on pregnant women and the context of this album — it's just got so many layers. Halsey's mind!! I love the sound of this song. The production has a classic rock flare to it. Those drums are so clean and the bass accompanies it perfectly. The smoothness of their vocal on this track is very pleasing to listen to.

Girl is a Gun — I'm not going to lie, this song isn't for me. I get it. The message is right up my street but the overall sound of it just isn't what I personally like. I do love their little laugh at the start! The lyric 'it's a shot in the dark, I'm not a walk in the park, I come loaded with the safety switched off' is my favourite.

You asked for this — This song is really interesting because they gave us a pop punk sound, pushed it to the back of the track, really grungey guitar riffs and all, but their voice is so light and delicate almost, very airy in a way that stands apart from the backing track. I really like it. To me, it's like an emphasis of the message of 'You asked for this'. Young women are oftentimes forced to grow up too soon and 'be a big girl.' Society forgets, I would even say purposely overlooks, that they are 'still somebody's daughter,' one of the few things that is used to give value to a woman. We've all heard people throw the phrase "but what if it was your daughter/sister?" into the conversation when discussing women that have somehow been abused by the patriarchy. 'You asked for this' also calls attention to how when we're younger, all we want is to be grown up but how unaware we can be of what it means to be a woman in this world, the trauma that comes with it.

Darling — The guitar in this song and it’s almost-country sound are what sets this song apart from the rest of the album. ‘Darling’ is a lullaby for their child, but it tells a story of their struggles. It is honest in a way that feels private. Motherhood sounds so good on them!! This song is just a collection of things I love in music. 'Darling' is soothing and it sounds like comfort, in both melody and lyric. 'Foolish men have tried but only you have shown me how to love being alive' is perhaps the softest lyric on the whole album.

1121 — I expelled a heavy sigh when I heard ‘1121’ it absolutely took my breath away*.* This song is a truly moving ode to an unborn child. So many people talk about how they had never known what unconditional love really meant until they had a child. Halsey tells it as such: ‘you could have my heart and I would break it for you.’ I love their vocal styling on this song so much, going between their lower register and those beautiful falsettos in the chorus. The overlapping on the bridge of ‘please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you left me’ and ‘I’m running out of time to tell you, I’m running out of things that I regret’ and ‘you’d never, you told me’ really capture all the wide array of emotions felt by pregnant person upon finding out they are pregnant when they’ve dealt with miscarriage. Her voice emotes the fear of losing another child, the regret of the ones she's already lost, the promise, almost desperate, of the opportunity they have right now. All of these feelings are brought to life further by the production of the song. There is so much depth in '1121'.

honey — Pop punk wlw anthem check. Halsey suits this sound so much. This track, the production, the instrumentation, all of it catered to their voice so perfectly. The sound is so refreshing and yet so classic. I adore the melody. It’s unsuspectingly catchy. I wonder if there are links to ‘Lilith’ with ‘she’s mean and she’s mine’ or if I’m just reaching. Either way, a song about a love that is a little chaotic and wild, sign me up!

Whispers — Whispering on a song called 'Whispers' might be obvious but I'm a basic bitch so leave me alone, I loved it. Lyrically, 'Whispers' was the song that I saw myself in the most. When she said 'camouflage so I can feed the lie that I'm composed,' I just felt far too exposed for comfort. Same thing with 'I do not know me.' And that's what art is supposed to do. The instrumental is haunting and dark. The way they create tension by adding in one instrument at a time. The production is amazing. Top 5 shit right here!

I am not a woman, I'm a god — Not only does this song have the catchiest hook, it’s literally ‘I am not a woman, I’m a god. I am not a martyr, I’m a problem. I am not a legend, I’m a fraud so keep your heart ‘cause I already got one.’ That hook right there tells you everything you need to know about this song. ‘I am not a woman, I’m a god’ acknowledges that one needs not be a woman to create life. They are claiming power to their gender identity through relation to Godliness. Even in the other lyrics, they talk about being ‘a different human in a new place’ or ‘a better human with a new name’ (this line in particular draws direct parallels to trans experiences). Both times, they specifically use ‘human.’ The production of this song is designed to be a single. It’s got the signature darkness of this album, tells the listener where Halsey is at sonically, and it’s a total banger.

The Lighthouse — The way this song just comes in swinging right away with the distortion and the heavy guitars is exactly what I expected from this album going into it for the first time. Very modern punk rock. And the lyric doesn't pull any punches either. 'From a tender age I was cursed with rage,' like c'mon!! I love the melody and her vocal inflations throughout the song. This is the longest song on the album but it doesn't drag. The change up right before the outro really helps with that. I find that outro so interesting. The contrast between the instrumental constantly building but their voices staying so far in the back on the track creates so much tension that is relieved in the best way possible with 'Ya'aburnee'.

Ya'aburnee — ‘Ya’aburnee’ is the perfect conclusion to this album. Halsey said in their Apple Music interview that IICHLIWP is about the power to choose and by the end of the album you realise that they choose love. This song perfectly embodies that. It’s familial. The entire chorus talks of seeing yourself in your kin and the circle of life. The second verse is a clear love letter to their partner and it makes me emotional, knowing their romantic history as we do, to hear them sing ‘wrap me in a wedding ring.’ I love how the lyric ‘you will bury me before I bury you’ is not only a statement of their hopes that they don’t have to live in a world without their loved ones, a statement of how parents should never have to bury their children, but it almost sounds like a protective promise that they will do anything to ensure their loved ones are kept from harm so as not to need burial. The softness of the instrumental on ‘Ya’aburnee’ is feels like unwinding from the rest of the record. It’s such a beautiful song.

#halsey #if i can't have love i want power #iichliwp #reviews #music #i finally did it guys

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samdotdocx · 3 years

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A very long-winded essay about why I love Night in the Woods and The Ramayana makes me Big Mad ft. Lets Talk About Mental Illness™

So I was in this class called 'The Ecology of Language". Excellent class, 10/10 would recommend - and especially relevant in the Indian context in particular, but that's a topic for another day.

One of the things we talked about was the concept of 'relatibality' in media, which, I'm sure we can all agree is a large component of contemporary character or story-line development. Considering the context of modern readers, what that sometimes ends up looking like (in our society that is built on constantly being told we are lacking, and the subsequent need to satisfy manufactured desires), is some wonderfully nuanced characters in stories stories that are three-dimensional, well rounded, and well developed and written. It's pretty great. And sometimes, what that means is that we have excellent characters that don't conform to the standard 'protagonist' stereotype. They might not even be 'good' (this is NOT a villain-apologist post). In fact, they might be complete idiots. They might be the people in stories who make all the wrong choices.

One such relatable character is Mae, and it's because she's an unmitigated train-wreck.

Anyone who knows the game probably knows what I'm talking about when I say the illustration style and character designs are gorgeous. Anyone who's ever dissociated probably knows what I'm talking about when I say that illustration style and character design were excellently used to create the sort of subliminal, surreal state of Mae's mind. And as you play the game, you see how that state of mind plays with the other characters, and - spoiler - it isn't great.

This is the first of the relatable aspects of Mae’s character; there are people around her who love her and are worried about her, but at the same time, are angry and irritated about her behaviour. At what point does it become too much to ask of those around you to forgive all your continuous and repetitive mistakes? Even if you have a good reason for it, mental illness is not an excuse for being exploitative, even if it is unintentional. Mae is not trying to hurt the people around her, but she constantly needs emotional labour from them – it’s exhausting, and people’s patience is going to run out eventually, as is their right.

Another aspect of this behaviour is the lack of reciprocity, an example of this being when Bea’s mother died of cancer – and Mae didn’t even notice.

There are several instances of Mae’s thoughtless behaviour throughout the game; she gets completely wasted and makes a scene at the party, gets jealous of of Greg and Angus because they’re leaving the town without her, and ends up destroying the radiator Bea was supposed to fix, getting her in trouble.

The thing is though, that Mae is given the opportunity to fix her mistakes.

A large part of relatability is the want so see yourself in a character. Mae is relatable to me because there are several circumstances and events in our lives that match up, but more than that; the game is an interactive visualization of her healing process. Her nine steps, if you will. She is given a second chance – and that chance is hard won, particularly in the context of the game.

Mae talks about feeling like she’s falling behind, of knowing that she is, in a way, wasting an opportunity that was a privilege in the first place, especially considering her family’s financial situation – but at the same time, being literally unable to help herself. And the aspects of the gameplay that hint at the supernatural elements of the story possibly being a figment of Mae’s imagination – well. All us depressed losers know what it's like to not be able to trust your own judgement and point of view. She talks about why she dropped out of college, and her description of the dissociation, and the mental and emotional deadening that it causes is spot on and so well represented.

It underscores the point that the logical brain knows that mental illness is an illness like any other – but the emotional brain doesn’t care.

The game does a brilliant job of laying bare the realities of middle class life, and makes painfully clear the fact that, at that level, it doesn’t matter how difficult things are for you. The world isn’t going to wait for you to get back on your feet.

Mae’s mental state and the limitations it imposes on her cultivates a state of extreme frustration. Again, relatable. It’s an understated aspect of illness of any kind; the anger at yourself, and how that anger carries over into a lot of things in your day to day life. After a point, it becomes a habit. Mae does this too; she's belligerent, and instigative, and unrepentant of consequences, because anger blinds you.

It's not how things will always be. I have the privilege of hindsight, so I can say that with authority. But, this isn’t the kind of thing that ever fully leaves you, either. If you break a kneecap, it’s going to bother you for the rest of your life, and similarly, mental illness has a ‘no return, no refund’ policy. So you grow up, and you try to adapt those habits and impulses into a more positive context. Recycling, right? Maybe you set your sights on things that actually deserve your anger, and you go from there. You find people who, for their own reasons, perhaps or perhaps not related to your own, are angry.

And you don’t understand the people who are not.

A large part of the anger and frustration surrounding mental illness is due to the stigma surrounding it. It’s frustrating to be so powerless and dependent, but this is exacerbated by the attitude of ‘it can’t be that bad’, which makes it so difficult to reach out, to be able to say, ‘I need a break’ – and actually get one. This is an attitude that carries over to a lot of other issues as well, and the worst part is – we are surrounded by people who are okay with it, who believe in and support that mentality.

The myth of Sita, for example. She is a strong female figure in Indian mythology, who overcomes her circumstances to live a ‘good’ life, and for all intents and purposes, is a hell of a role model.

But that’s the thing; her life wasn’t good, was it? She was supposed be a goddess reincarnated, she should have been powerful, and respected, but instead she is reduced to ‘wife’ – and everyone today is fine with it.

I respect her immensely for the choices she made; marrying for love was her choice, going into exile with her husband was her choice. She was the paragon of virtue, of 'wifeliness', of kindness – she chose her husband over everyone and everything else, including herself, as was expected of her. But yet – she couldn't win his trust or respect. It should not even have needed to be won.

It’s commendable the way she takes it all in stride, but why did she? She was kidnapped and held captive for years, entirely against her will, and her husband's response to that is to force her to walk through fire to prove her ‘purity’ – and she does it. And she stays with him after, and I cannot understand the depths of her patience and forgiveness, because I would have been livid, and I want her to be so too. I’m furious for her, because Ram was not just her husband, he was also the king, and his later verdict to exile her, alone, while heavily pregnant, his readiness to condemn her based on speculation and public sentiment, was not just a verdict against her, it was against every woman in his kingdom who had ever been victimised.

Sita became a martyr to the modern feminist movement – if she could not be angry on her own behalf, we will do it for her. But at the same time, she is still relatable, because we are held to a slightly lesser degree of the same expectations. There are always going to be aspects of things that you relate to. ‘Big Mood’ culture is a strong indicator of the human ability to empathise, especially with characters that you like, or respect.

Sita’s world, I imagine, was run by the expectations her society and community had of her, and maybe she didn’t even have the liberty to be angry. Who is responsible for portraying her in passive acceptance of her fate? Is that representation reliable? Would the story have been different had it been written by a woman?

I can't remember a time when I was not angry, especially about things like this. I am always ready to fight, and I think the same goes for so many other people today, sometimes to our detriment. I cannot imagine a world where that was not at the very least an option. Not necessarily the best option, - but Sita’s world was very different to ours. Even with centuries between us, we’ve just gotten over angry and depressed women being labelled as ‘hysterical’ and subsequently being locked away. What is it like, to have to be calm and careful in response to being treated like this? This care in response may not be an overt requirement anymore – though the fact remains that society will not take you seriously if you become hysterical - but shouldn't you, at the very least, be able to rely on the support of other people in the same boat?

That is the main difference in these stories, and another main point of relatability to me; Mae, like myself, had a support system. Sita did not. Mae was selfish and demanding in so many ways, and required a lot of time and patience and healing before she was able to give back, but she got there eventually because she was able to put herself first. She fought for herself, and when she couldn’t, she had other people to fight for her. Night in the Woods represents the intersection of oppressed minorities and community with their portrayal of Mae, Greg, and Angus in particular, and the importance of community support – and, the difference between geographical community, and communities formed through camaraderie and actual unity. And so does the Ramayana - except, where was Sita’s community? Where were her sisters, or her parents, when she was abandoned in the woods, and later when she committed suicide? We are well aware, in the modern day, of the state of mind that causes people to kill themselves, and yet that is a part of the story that we never talk about. Where were her people then?

What would have happened if she had been more like Mae, and put herself first instead of bleeding herself dry for people who never respected her, and would never do the same for her?

People relate to personalities. They relate to choices, and circumstances, and habits, and it is neither a good nor a bad thing, to be relatable or not. Sita will be highly relatable to people who, like her, were governed by their circumstances, and were screwed over despite their best efforts. People who felt they couldn’t, or shouldn’t exercise their power and agency. Sita’s death was at odds with her strong personality, and so was her deference to her fate on many occasions, but there are a lot of people out there who will relate to the feeling of simply wanting things to be over. Mae on the other hand; she’s a steamroller, and she doesn’t stop. There’s a reason her character is a cat, and jokingly referred to as feral in the game. She is persistent, she is growing.

[1] In Defence of Kaikeyi and Draupadi: a Note – by Fritz Blackwellhttps://www.jstor.org/stable/23334398?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents [2] https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2015/10/emergency-room-wait-times-sexism/410515/

#ramayana discourse #night in the woods #sita #tw suicice #tw mental illness #mae borowski #spam-by-sam

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everythingsinred · 3 years

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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 15)

I'm posting this on time! Yay! I'll try to be timely tomorrow as well. Be patient with me if I can't ;-;

This will be the final part of the New Year's Arc. Natsume and his friends reunite and fight to save Aoi. Unfortunately, this fight will take a victim, and for once it's not Natsume.

Chapter Sixty-Six

We see Natsume again, still in a stand-off with Yakumo. Things change, however, when Nobara “wakes up” in a trance. All thoughts of getting Natsume out of the dungeon are gone from her mind now. She’s just another of Persona’s weapons, ready to fulfill her orders without any pesky hesitation or guilt.

And even later, when Mikan rejoins the group, we can see that Natsume is guarding his friends with his alice while Nobara’s rages on. He suggests he and Mikan work together to stop Nobara. He can use his alice to protect them from the ice, and she can use hers to stop Nobara’s alice completely. It’s interesting that Natsume has gotten to such a nonviolent point. He doesn’t even like Nobara, since she’s a teacher’s pet and he doesn’t trust her at all. But he knows she doesn’t mean any ill will and it’s not her fault that she’s attacking them now. He could think first of trying to attack her, but it would be much safer for her if Mikan simply nullified her instead.

He’s come such a long way, from attacking Hotaru and Iinchou so Mikan would spill her alice to now choosing a less violent approach to tackling a person who should be an ally. Now, he won’t be nonviolent in every regard, and there’s little reason he should be, but moments like this are noteworthy. Even more, he’s the one to suggest to Mikan that they work together. They could be a team, like she’d wanted in the Z Arc. They could work together to beat Nobara, and Natsume is willing to admit he won’t be able to do it alone. Ultimately, he’s asking for help, and Natsume never does that.

"Let's do it together," because he can finally ask for help.

But really, for Mikan, it doesn’t take much effort at all. In fact, Mikan uses her nullification to get Nobara entirely out of the trance in no time at all. Nobara runs away, ashamed, and Persona emerges from the woodwork, irritated that he has to do all the work himself.

Mikan breaks Nobara out of it without any help, all on her own. It's foreshadowing for all Mikan will do by herself in the rest of this fight. Natsume wants to work together, but he would never want her to take on everything by herself.

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Persona’s presence has only inspired anger. Natsume attempts to attack him, but he’s no match against Persona when he’s carrying Nobara’s alice stone as protection. Persona then informs Natsume that he’s lost the deal. After all, Rui and Hayate weren’t defeated by him, rather by the people who followed after him. Therefore, Natsume won’t be allowed to leave the dungeon or ever see his sister again.

Despite all his best efforts, he's failed. All these risks he's taken in the past two days have been for nothing, have even caused more of a mess. And if he's stuck in a dungeon, not only will he truly never be able to save Aoi, but he won't be able to see Mikan or Ruka either. It's not like Persona doesn't have the power to do this, either. This is a genuine threat, and if he and his friends lose here, then Natsume will be screwed for good.

Mikan stands up for Natsume, but Persona attacks her, only stopped by one of Ruka’s mice, who quickly demonstrates what happens when someone is caught by Persona’s alice, the touch of death or corrosion alice. Only Natsume (and we, the readers) knew what his alice was prior to this, and it creates a new atmosphere of danger. Getting hit could get you killed. Any misstep could be deadly.

Something interrupts the fight, though. Aoi is shuffling down the hall, gripping the walls since she is blind.

She calls out to Persona, to Mikan, to the very few people she’s had in her life for the past two and a half years.

This is the first time Natsume has seen her in just as long, and he calls out to her. He wasn't supposed to see her. This was a trap, after all, and he'd been told he'd never see her again. To be able to see her despite that is excellent luck (and because of Mikan's help). He nearly can't believe that it's really happening. What follows should be a dramatic and emotional reunion. Sadly, that's not the way it goes.

Natsume failed Aoi so much. Look what he's done. She's blind and has amnesia all because of him.

He approaches, but before he can reach her, she asks nervously who he is. She's blind, so there's no way she'd recognize his face, but she can't place his voice either. It's like a sucker-punch, not being remembered at all by one of the most important people in his life. It's not just that she's blind--that's shocking news too--or that she's been held captive in a dungeon for years. She also can't remember him at all. To make matters even worse, Aoi asks instead for Persona. Natsume is immediately shocked. He’s been putting himself on the line tirelessly for years, and she has forgotten him. It’s just another way in which he’s failed to protect her, since she doesn’t even remember her life anymore. And for his role in her life to be filled instead by Persona is even more cruel.

Persona has been abusing Natsume for years while manipulating Aoi into feeling pity for him. One moment, he seems to treat Aoi with kindness, and the next he goes to Natsume and threatens her safety if he doesn’t obey. It’s enough to make anyone’s blood boil, and Natsume is understandably hurt.

Mikan, who has met Aoi already, tries to remind her that Natsume is her real brother, but Persona is eager to get back to business, so he dispatches Yakumo to immobilize Ruka, Hotaru, and Mikan.

Persona goes right back to manipulating Aoi, lying to her and telling her that Natsume is responsible for her loss of sight and memories. But Natsume doesn’t care about being hated or loved, he only cares about protecting. He stands in front of Aoi and tells her to run. This time, no matter what, he will protect her. He won’t ever let her be hurt again.

Natsume has been blaming himself for what happened to Aoi for years. The job of protecting her was put on his shoulders since he was little. It’s always been his duty to keep her safe, so if she is unsafe, it means he failed. He’s just a little kid. He may have a powerful alice, but he is ultimately powerless. He’s up against government controlled entities and adults with influence. He couldn’t do any more to protect Aoi than he already did, but he’s been living with the guilt of not doing the impossible, because he was told that was his duty. Natsume feels like a failure whenever he can’t properly protect someone because he thinks that’s all he’s good for. He will take the hits for everyone else, will take responsibility for everyone, put himself in the face of danger and death to keep everyone but himself safe.

To be hated or loved or entirely forgotten has nothing to do with his life's mission anyway. Natsume gives unconditionally. He doesn't want anything in return, because it's not an exchange to begin with. The people around him are precious, and their happiness and safety is important. They should have long, pleasant lives. He's just a soldier in comparison. His life was always going to be short anyway, so why shouldn't be dedicate himself entirely to preserving the happiness of others? Protect, protect, protect. Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice. It's all he knows. How other people feel about him doesn't change his purpose at all. Whether he does it openly or in secret, he exists only to protect.

Aoi was his biggest failure, in his mind. He won’t allow anything to stop him from protecting her this time, to make up for the time he failed. His determination and promise of protection triggers memories in Aoi. She knew her brother very well, knew all his nuances and quirks. She's the one who first explained to Ruka that he's endlessly selfless, always protecting. If Natsume is anything, he's a martyr. He will make a bold proclamation of protection, or stand in front of somebody to guard them, or take a hit in somebody's stead. She can't help but recognize it, his most outstanding character trait. Nobody in the world is quite like Natsume in this way. She says his name, shocking and distracting him. He hadn’t meant to have her recall him. He was just doing his job as her older brother to protect her. Again, Natsume is resigned to being hated, disliked, and even forgotten, so long as he can do his job of protecting people. Of course it surprises him when it’s exactly that loyalty and protection that reminds Aoi who her most important person is.

Natsume just needed to be as much himself as he could and it triggered Aoi remembering him. If only this sort of thing could work every time.

But Persona isn’t as touched as the rest of them are. Aoi has lost her utility. She remembered Natsume and can no longer be effectively manipulated. Before he can turn his alice on her, though, Mikan saves the Hyuuga siblings. It's Natsume who initially told her in the Z Arc that she has to be vigilant, always watchful, when you're in a dangerous situation after all. If Natsume is distracted, and can't be vigilant, then Mikan will be in his stead. The danger persists, and despite Natsume's readiness to protect his sister, it's Mikan once again who tackles him, nullifying him, but also knocking his alice restraining mask off his face.

Now that Mikan has touched Persona directly without his mask on, she’s certain to die.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Even Yakumo is put off by Persona’s actions. He obviously never expected to actually be involved in the murder of a little girl. Persona shrugs it off, calling it nothing more than an accident, but that sets Natsume off.

Mikan got in the way to protect him and his sister, and now she will die.

He was willing to work as a team, but he is not willing to watch her completely take on his duty as the resident martyr.

Natsume doesn't like being protected. It's his job, after all. His life is meaningless in comparison to everyone else's. Not only is it destined to be short anyway (so who cares if it ends earlier than later?) but being protected by somebody else means he failed. Somebody is hurt because of him. Natsume is angry at Persona more than anything, but he's also disappointed in himself. Mikan should never have to take an attack for him. She got hit because he was distracted and because he didn't stay vigilant. She's hurt because he didn't do his job correctly.

He goes berserk, his fire alice raging on, despite the barrier. He screams at Persona, but it’s not enough. He hunches over in pain and gasps. Keeping up his alice like this with the barrier is difficult, and even in his anger he can’t keep it up for long.

When Hotaru tries to attack Persona, he moves to get her instead, and Mikan, already struck by his alice, decides to hit him again. Natsume is horrified. He can yell at Persona all he wants, and could even kill him, and it wouldn’t undo the damage Mikan has just now taken for her friends. She’s done for already, but each hit of Persona’s alice has her that much closer to death.

This must feel awful, Natsume. Watching somebody hurt themselves ceaselessly to protect others and not being able to do anything to help. It's a good thing you'd never put anybody in that position, especially after experiencing it for yourself, right? RIGHT?

Mikan bravely declares that she will take all of his hits, to do anything to protect her friends. She tells them to run for it and leave her to face Persona, but Aoi rushes to confront Persona. She still mistakenly thinks there’s a bond between them, that maybe she can get through to him, but he quickly proves her wrong, telling her that he won’t hesitate to use his alice on her as well if she doesn’t move aside.

He’s about to attack her, but Mikan gets in the way, not keen on her sacrifice being for nothing. She protects Aoi, perhaps in Natsume’s stead. In her final sacrifice, she is able to crack his earring, which protects him from “looking like a monster”, and now he looks on the outside the way he does on the inside, entirely corrupted by his own alice.

Now Persona is no longer a threat, as he has run away, but there remains the problem of Mikan, who has been directly hit by his alice and doesn’t stand a chance of surviving.

This whole thing is quite interesting. Natsume is practically useless here. He doesn't protect anybody: not Mikan, not Aoi, not anybody. In fact, he's the one who has to be protected. Mikan did in one day what Natsume has been doing his whole life, and she's paying for it with her life, which is what happens when somebody always chooses the happiness of others over their own.

He's so physically unwell that even his anger and rage can't assist the situation. He can't do anything. Mikan gets hit over and over and over again and all he can do is watch helplessly. You'd think an experience like this would perhaps inspire some understanding in him. Watching somebody die for you is horrible, especially when you feel so powerless as it happens. You cannot stop it from happening. You just watch as they die. But Natsume does not come away from this, thinking about the potential consequences for his martyr complex. Instead, he will do everything he can to make sure nobody ever hurts themselves to protect him again. He will protect everyone even more, to save them from the death that awaits them if they have to protect him.

If they protect him, after all, it's his fault for not being as observant, for not doing a better job. He's the soldier, the martyr. He's the one who should die for others.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

Natsume went into the dungeon, willing to give up his life, fully aware that he might never see his friends again, because it was worthwhile to him as long as he could save his sister. Despite his determination, Natsume couldn’t protect anybody. Mikan protected him, protected Hotaru, protected Aoi. The girl he loves is going to die now, and it’s his fault, because he couldn’t actually protect anybody and in turn had to be protected.

Mikan was also saying very Natsume-esque things, like “it doesn’t matter what happens to me, as long as the people I care about are safe”, and willing to give up her future for the sake of Natsume and Aoi’s futures together. He’d never wanted to be on the receiving end of selflessness. That’s his job. He’s supposed to be the one sacrificing and dying for everyone else.

In this moment, he’s powerless, because for all his talk, Aoi is free because of Mikan, and now Mikan will die, and he can’t do anything about it.

Because of this, when they all rush to Subaru and Sakurano to get Mikan immediate medical help, Natsume speaks up and takes responsibility. He promises to take Aoi and leave the academy so nobody else will suffer because of him anymore. Besides, he won’t be allowed to live normally at the school anymore anyway (he'd be in a dungeon), and it’s best for everyone, in his mind, to have him out of their hair.

His determination crumbles when Mikan wakes up just enough to sadly ask him if he’s really leaving. She looks upset at the thought of him gone, and all his resolve falls apart.

He was supposed to be protecting her and he failed. She had to take it all on because he messed up, and now she's dying. And on top of that, he's hurting her, telling her he's going to leave her. He put her in this situation and now he's just gonna leave? What kind of monster is he?

Well, he was going to but how is he supposed to do it now when you look so sad?

He can't ever leave her.

But the upperclassmen rebuke his plan anyway as unrealistic and unsound. Natsume is physically distressed and Aoi is blind, so escape will not be so easy. Besides, there’s no guarantee that Natsume taking all the blame will mean anything to the ESP, who will simply punish everyone else involved in his stead. His plan was idealistic.

But Ruka brings up a good point: why should Aoi be forced to stay in the academy when she isn’t even an alice anymore? This leads to a better plan: cause a much bigger scandal around the academy than what happened in the Hana Hime den dungeon. They’d force the school’s hand and possibly be able to get out of the situation largely unscathed.

He stands by Aoi's side. He's going to protect her and save her, because he couldn't do it before. More than that, he knows he can't leave. He'll do what he can to prove to Aoi how much she matters because he won't be coming with her and she might not see him for quite some time, if ever again. If Aoi is safe, he can focus more energy on protecting others, especially Mikan, who will need all the protecting she can get now that she's upset the academy higher ups.

For now, what matters is that they start a scandal around Aoi being held captive and abused by the academy for years.

As a result, a riot breaks out, with people either outraged that a non-alice was allowed in their midst for long or because the Hyuuga siblings suffered so much so that Natsume could become a child soldier. Thus the ESP is distracted with trying to suppress that, though he does still blame Mikan for the whole thing.

Chapter Seventy

While Mikan recuperates, strangely saved by her mysterious stealing alice, Natsume has been causing mayhem with his sister. The school is unhappy and there will be serious consequences to come, but at least he won’t be trapped in a dungeon, and Mikan won’t die.

In fact, because this scandal has exposed the truth about Natsume's situation, on the surface, the school will have to put an end to the abuse they put him through. No more beatings. No more missions. It's all about PR, and apparently people don't like seeing that kids are abused by their school. For a moment, it might really seem like things will be looking up for him. Unfortunately, nothing is quite so simple.

It is time to say good-bye to Aoi, because she cannot be forced to stay with all the scandal surrounding her. Many kids are there, which Natsume points out since it was supposed to be a secret send-off.

So many people came because they wanted to meet Aoi and because they have come to the conclusion that because Aoi is leaving, Natsume has no reason to stay either. After all, he only came to the school to keep his sister safe. Now that she won’t be held over his head anymore, why would he stick around?

Yes, he stayed for Mikan and all that, but Natsume is somehow still somewhat surprised that so many other kids in Class B care about him and don't want to see him go.

And then we see a flashback, where Aoi begs Natsume to leave the school with her, even pleading that he doesn’t leave her on her own anymore. But Natsume doesn’t have a choice. Like Sakurano and Subaru said, even if it was feasible for him to leave the school, leaving would only put the rest of them in danger. They would be held responsible for what happened in his stead and they’d be punished for his sake. And Aoi was not the only person being held over his head to begin with. Ruka and Mikan and even Yo-chan are incredibly important to him, and they have also been used as blackmail for Natsume to perform on missions.

And more than anything, Mikan almost died to protect him. He failed and she got hurt, and he can't ever allow something like that to happen again. He will do anything he can to keep her safe going forward, and that will involve a great deal of sacrifice in the future. But he's always been the protector, so he is willing to throw himself into the role of being Mikan's guardian angel. From now on, it's all about her. He simply won't allow himself to fail her again.

He tells Aoi that he can’t leave. His friends are here. But he promises to see her again, when he leaves the academy. Aoi understands, and she’s happy for her brother that he has so many people he cares about who care about him too. She used to be the only one who really understood him, how selfless he was and how many burdens he was carrying. But now he’s properly understood by so many people. She can count on them to look after him.

Natsume grew up with the idea that he has to look after other people. Aoi tells his friends to look after him, letting it be known that Natsume needs to be protected sometimes too, and that he can’t be allowed to sacrifice himself forever.

Then, Natsume is able to see his father again, for the first time since he told the driver to speed up. His dad hugs Aoi, and the gate is closed, but Natsume still goes to hug them both through the gate. The moment is touching, as it’s the first time Natsume has been able to contact his family at all in more than two years, but it’s cut short. He can’t stand by the gate forever, after all.

Listen I tried my best but this picture got me bursting into tears.

This whole moment in time is just like the family visit: too short. It should be enough that we can see Natsume happy, right? He will get everything he wants for one split second, and then he will go right back to suffering, because that's how he was always meant to be. Eternally suffering for the sake of everybody else.

Mikan is then reminded that they all have to be on their best behavior going forward or they’ll risk losing stars, but losing any stars for Mikan would send her right back to being a no-star again. In response to her panic, Ruka tosses his stars. It’s only symbolic. He’s still a triple, of course. But tossing them is supposed to represent solidarity with Mikan, and understanding from Natsume. Those stars symbolized Natsume’s suffering and endless trauma. By throwing them, Ruka is telling him that he understands what Natsume went through for them, and that he’s okay with a no-star status if Natsume is less burdened. After all, Natsume shouldn't be going on missions anymore. If Ruka's star rank is lowered, it's worth it, because Natsume will be safe and happy in exchange.

Ruka is now intent on helping to protect Mikan’s smile, no matter the cost. He then thinks, “You’ve been ready to do that for a long time, haven’t you, Natsume?”

Natsume is very smiley for a kid whose gonna go "volunteer" to suffer endlessly for his friends and the love of his life.

After all, Natsume is staying, more or less, to protect his friends, namely Mikan, who almost died to protect him. He won’t let her give any more up for his sake. That’s his job, and he’ll go back to serving it with no hesitation. His missions are supposed to stop. Coercing him will no longer be about holding Aoi over his head. The school instead will shape it like it's his idea, his choice. He can stop, if he wants, but if he chooses to continue, very good things will happen for his friends.

His suffering in the DA class is about to get a lot worse.

Conclusion

Natsume put his life on the line, risking everything to save Aoi, but in the end Mikan is the one who paid the price. Instead of viewing Mikan's sacrifice as affectionate or touching, he's angry with himself for having put her in the situation to begin with. He will never allow her to be in danger again. No matter what happens, he will be there to protect her. It has just become his life's mission. Though Aoi is safe and his missions and abuse under the school should end, they have really only just begun.

Like I was saying, Natsume doesn't do very much at the end of this arc, which is kind of the point, but it also leaves some chapters' analysis somewhat threadbare. I apologize for that.

Going forward, we'll see that Natsume has a new attitude. The illusion of choice regarding the abuse he faces from the school has given him some semblance of peace, because he's content with his duty of protecting Mikan. Every smile from her means he's doing his job right.

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#gakuen alice #alice academy #hyuuga natsume #natsume hyuuga #natsumikan #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #my meta #ga #mine #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: natsume #honestly how dare mikan try to take over natsumes job. THATS HOW HE MAKES A LIVING MIKAN #im joking #sometimes i look at natsume and wonder if hes so used to sacrificing himself for others that he sometimes PUTS himsef #in dangerous situations unconsciously #hes very reckless at times #the other times him being so willing to die for everyone else rly makes it seem like he actually has a death wish #but he rly cant stand being on the receiving end of it #it drives him crazy #sacrifice as the ultimate show of love.....#but only when he does it!!!!!!#if somebody else does it then he FUCKED UP #editing these tags to drop a song rec #times infinity by mexicolas #its from the movie keith which i have strong feelings abt

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