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justfangirlthingies · 3 years

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Friend of a Friend (Dr. Laszlo Kreizler)

This is my first ever request! Thank you very much for sending this in @laurentrvn I hope you like it🥰

Request: would you do Laszlo x fem!reader

Reader was working on Howard Detective Agency. John Moore would like to invite you for dinner, want to expect to see his friends too. later reader was getting ready for dinner, John would like Reader to meet Doctor Kreizler, they get to know each other. they quite bit closed to each other. (fluff)

I usually try (I don't always succeed, but I always try my best) to keep the reader as neutral as possible so that really everyone can read my fics and feel included, but this time there will be mentions of reader's gender and reader wearing a dress.

I also tried to do this as best as I possibly could, I just didn't really know how to make fluff happen after the first meeting, so I added a few things 😅😊

Writing my requests takes me a while since I'm not exactly a very fast writer, I hope you understand :)

Warnings: none, if there is anything you think deserves a warning please lmk so I can add it here

Word count: 3094 words

The day started off pretty normal for you. There was some paperwork for you to do, a few reports to fill out and Miss Howard had asked you to go fetch a piece of evidence or rather a drawing from one of her friends. From John Moore to be exact. You had met him now and then and even exchanged a few words with him, seeing as he often assisted Sara in her cases, his reports in the papers have brought in new clients to the company on more than one occasion. It was a win win for both sides. People read his stories about the cases he assisted on because they were exciting and in exchange the Howard Detective Agency gained popularity and another pair of helpful hands for their cases.

It was early afternoon when you made your way to the meetup point, said meetup point being a simple, small, wooden bench in a park. You looked around, but John was not in sight just yet. You were probably just early, that must be it. With your thoughts drifting around your head and focusing on the current case you sat down on the bench to wait for the man. It was mere minutes later that you saw a flash of brown from the corner of your eyes, so you turned your head in the direction. It was John. He sat down next to you as you flashed him a smile "Good day, Mr. Moore." He smiled back at you "Good day to you too, but you can just call me John." "Well, I suppose you may just call me (Y/n) then." John gave you a small nod before his eyes switched back to the notebook in his hands, holding it between the two of you he opened it up. You stared in amazement at the drawings as the gentleman next to you skimmed through the pages until he finally reached the illustrations he was searching for. When he found them he was quick to tear them out and hand them to you "You're very talented." you muttered under your breath as you examined the pictures, but it still reached the man's ears "thank you, though I have to say, I prefer drawing other things..." he paused for a moment "scenes that are less brutal and capture the beauty of the world and its people." The answer you received made a small grin grace your lips "It's good to see that there are still optimistic people like you out in this world. Maybe next time we meet you could show me some more of your work." You nodded your head slightly in thanks for the pictures and as a way to bid him goodbye, as you rose from your seat on the bench "Good day, Mr. Mo- John." you quickly corrected yourself before turning around to make your way back to the office. However, John's voice caused you to stop and turn on your heels "(Y/n)! I could show you more of the drawings. How about dinner this Friday at Delmonico's?"

The question had caught you completely off guard, you had not expected to be met with...well, what even was this proposal of his? A flirt attempt maybe? Heat crept up your neck and wandered further to your cheeks "I- umm...all due respect Mr.- John, I don't think that is such a good idea. I'm afraid you aren't quite-" Your rambling was promptly cut off by John "Oh dear god. That is not what I meant" he chuckled, was he trying to talk himself out of a rejection with humor or was it really a misunderstanding? "Oh my, if it was a misunderstanding it would be so embarrassing." you thought "What I actually meant, was to invite you to join and meet a few of Sara and I's mutual friends. Besides I'll be a married man and a father to be soon" The tension in the air dissolved slightly, leaving you with a feeling of embarrassment and a slight stutter in your speech "Oh- I-I'm sorry. I completely misunderstood the meaning of what you proposed." "It's alright, now do you have time on Friday, my friend?" he chuckled, slightly easing your embarrassment a little. In response you just nodded your head again and gave him a smile "I'd like that, thank you. Goodbye again, John" You heard Mr. Moore wishing you a good day in return as you began walking away, trying to clear your head from the awkward encounter and clasping the sheets of paper in your hand, you made your way back to the agency.

▪︎

The days leading up to Friday passed more quickly than you would have liked, but there was nothing you could do about it really.

Soon, you found yourself in front of your mirror as you touched up your hair a bit. Just when you were done getting ready you heard a knock on your front door, it was probably John, seeing as it was already getting close to 7 pm. You had received a letter from him the day after he invited you to dinner, informing you that he would pick you up at your home at 7 pm to accompany you on the way to the restaurant you were going to.

Finding your reflection once more, you brushed your hands over the elegant fabric of the dress you were clad in, in order to straighten it out a bit before examining yourself again. With a nervous exhale you cast your gaze away from the mirror and towards the door, your feet quickly following your eyes as your hand reached for the keys in the lock. With a quiet clinking noise, that could be heard on the other side of it, you unlocked the door and took a deep breath, hoping the awkwardness from your last meeting had subsided by now. As you opened it you were met with the face of John Moore, flashing him a polite smile as you exchanged greetings. "I hope it won't come as a problem to you if you meet one of my good friends even before we reach the restaurant" You raised a questioning eyebrow at the man before you "He has offered to take us to the restaurant in his carriage instead of having us walk by foot or paying for one" John explained. His explanation made your eyes widen in surprise. His carriage?! That person you were going to meet had his own carriage?! You gave a nod to John, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about your dress. Was it elegant enough for this occasion? You hoped so. "That is very kind of your friend" you said as you stepped out of the comfort of your cozy home and onto the streets of New York. You made sure you carried everything you would need with you before you locked the door to the house. "I need to warn you though, Laszlo can often times be a little..." John paused, thinking about how to describe the alienist as you turned around to look at him "...eccentric" Once again, you cocked your eyebrow and just as you were about to speak up again, you found your eyes wandering to a carriage that promptly came to a halt right in front of you. In anticipation of meeting John's friend, you watched as the door to the carriage opened and mere seconds later a cane emerged, followed by the well dressed man it belonged to. He smiled as he approached the two of you so he could greet you both, but ended up getting pulled into a hug by John in the process. When he finally got to you he shook your hand, you couldn't help but notice how gentle and light his grip was compared to those of other men, you made eye contact with the stranger as he introduced himself "I'm doctor Kreizler, but seeing as you're a friend of John you may call me Laszlo" His hazel eyes were captivating and his voice smooth, you noticed a bit of an accent "And you are, miss?" Laszlo asked, pulling you back from your trance an amused smirk on his lips. Oh god. Had you been staring? "(L/n). (Y/n) (L/n)" you rushed out. "It's nice to meet you Miss (L/n)." You smiled softly at him "Likewise...oh and (Y/n) is fine, no need for the formalities." The doctor returned your smile and for a moment you just looked at one another, none of you able to break the eye contact, it was as if you were enchanted, enthralled by those dark eyes of his and for Laszlo the feeling was mutual.

Well, until John broke the trance that is "Well then, shall we get on with our trip to dinner?" Your face grew warm as you finally snapped out of it and realized what you had been doing. A sheepish smile still graced your lips when you entered the carriage and it stayed until you arrived at the restaurant. You watched Laszlo and John make conversation in the carriage, they truly seemed to be good friends. "Laszlo, how was Europe? You only came back home a couple of days ago, right?" Now, that conversation topic peaked your interest, your eyes switched between the two men as you listened intently. "Yes, I only returned the day before yesterday. Vienna was beautiful, I could tell you many things about Freud, the people I met and the new studies I came across, but I doubt you are interested in all the information about psychology, John." John chuckled "Right you are" before he could say anything else the carriage came to a stop and the three of you got out in front of the restaurant.

It turned out that you were actually the first to arrive, the rest pooling in a couple of minutes later. The dinner was fun and interesting, you learned new things about everyone who was there and to your surprise, there came a point where you were flooded with compliments for the exceptional detective work you did. Needless to say, these compliments had you flustered. Laszlo seemed to notice your slight discomfort with all the attention on you, so he started talking in order to relieve you from that embarrassing feeling. You flashed him a grateful smile and mouthed "thanks", to which he just smiled and gave you a nod in reply.

The rest of the dinner went smooth and you learned many new things about the doctor and of course about his most recent research and travels. One could say you got along with one another quite well, he was a bit different from other men, more straightforward and very curious about everything, but you wouldn't say one needs a warning before meeting him, like the one John gave you. The evening went by rather quickly and before you knew it you were back in the carriage, sitting opposite of Dr. Kreizler. John however, wasn't there with you now, it seemed he had a bit of a misunderstanding with the alienist and favoured walking home on foot. He was an adult who could make his own decisions and if he preferred walking home then so be it.

The ride in the carriage was nice, you never ran out of conversation topics and at some point you came to the realizisation that you quite enjoyed Laszlo's company.

In the days pursuing the dinner, you often caught yourself thinking about him, wondering if and when you'd meet the doctor again, and every time you did, a smile made it's way onto your lips.

▪︎

The following weeks seemed quite boring, until a new case rolled in that is. You had looked over the paperwork and the crime scenes of the case and did your best to put yourself into the criminal's shoes. In order to find them you needed to find a motive as to why someone would commit such horrid deeds. After days on end of trying to solve this mystery you finally found something. A break in the case maybe. As soon as you realized what you had just discovered, you jumped up from your chair and practically sprinted to Sara's office, in your excitement it seemed that you completely forgot all your manners. You knocked on the door, but before you even got a reply from the other side, you had opened it "Sara! I just found something! We got a break in the-" and that was when you saw him again. Laszlo Kreizler.

Sara's and his eyes were both trained on you, causing your excitement about the progress in the case to subside as you flashed them a sheepish smile "Apologies. I-I should have waited I'm terribly sorry." Laszlo smiled at you "Good day to you too (Y/n)" His greeting caused heat to rise to your cheeks. You even forgot to greet him.

After a few moments of silence the doctor spoke up once more "Please do continue, Miss Howard was just filling me in on the case anyways and it seems like you just made progress in solving it. I would like to know everything you found out as of right now"

▪︎

The case had brought the two of you closer together. A lot closer actually.

You found yourself in front of your mirror once again, this time wearing the prettiest dress in your posession. You smiled at your reflection when you heard a knock at the door, only this time it wasn't your friend John who had knocked to bring you to dinner with friends. No. This time it was Laszlo Kreizler who stood on the other side of the door and instead of just dinner he would take you to the opera and to dinner later, then he'd bring you back home, well at least that was the plan.

When you opened the door to your home you were met with the man you had been thinking about nonstop. You smiled at him as your (e/c) eyes met his hazel ones and once again the man had you starstruck. The eye contact was intense and it reminded you of the time you first met him. "Good evening (Y/n)." hearing your name fall from his lips made you feel all giddy and happy "Good evening to you too Laszlo."

▪︎

You struggled to focus on what you were supposed to be doing the whole evening.

You did enjoy visiting the opera, but with Laszlo being there it felt like the spotlight was shining solely on him. Instead of watching what was happening you put your focus on him, watching his eyes light up and the excitement clearly visible on his face was much more interesting than the opera, well at least in your opinion. Whenever Laszlo would glance at you he had this smirk adorning his lips, he probably knew you were staring, seeing as you most likely weren't as subtle about it as you wanted to be. You smiled softly at him before shifting your focus back to the opera, in these moments you felt his eyes on you too.

During dinner you spent more time looking at him than at the menu, so when the waiter asked for your orders you just went with what he had chosen. That earned you an amused smirk and a raised eyebrow. Oh he was definitely aware of how smitten you were with him, he had to be. The whole evening you felt nervous and full of joy. What you didn't know was that Laszlo was just as nervous as you were, the difference was that he just knew how to hide it better than you did.

Only when dessert arrived did you notice him getting more nervous, a slight blush was visible on his cheeks. It certainly was a sight to see the normally so composed doctor become flustered, an adorable sight that only had you falling harder for the man. As soon as he spoke up though, it was your turn to get flustered. "(Y/n). We have known each other for quite a while now and..." he stumbled upon his words a bit and that just had the anticipation you felt, about what he was going to say, growing with every second "I sincerely apologize if I misinterpreted anything, but I noticed that... well, I know that I have taken a strong liking towards you and from what I picked up on, this liking seems to be mutual" his confession caused you to choke on your food and you tried to hold back a coughing fit, instead of giving in to the cough you took a sip of your drink as to soothe your throat and tried to calm your breathing. You also tried to calm your now very rapid heartbeat, but failed miserable at that. Laszlo's eyes widened slightly and a hint of sadness and regret seeped into his features "I'm terribly sorry, it seems I misinterpreted your feelings. It would have been a miracle if someone like you had reciprocated my feelings like that" He was about to stand up and grab his walking stick, but you immediately shook your head and gripped the cane first, in order to keep him from leaving "Laszlo, you didn't misinterpret anything" you felt the heat travelling through your body as your nerves and hartbeat were as strong as ever. The alienist was shocked to hear your response. He looked at you expectantly, waiting patiently for you to continue as he felt his own heart beating in his throat. You swallowed taking all your courage together to speak up again. "I was simply surprised to-to hear you say these things, I'm not surprised you picked up on my feelings for you" you chuckled awkwardly "I just didn't expect you to feel the same way and to adress it like that." Laszlo let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and brought the hand that had been reaching out for the cane back to the table. You copied that last movement also letting go of his cane. However, as soon as your hand was back at the table he reached his good hand out to hold yours, a grin on his lips "May I propose a courtship then?" Your eyes went wide as you beamed back at him "Yes!- I mean...yes, I'd like that very much" Your answer earned you a chuckle from the good doctor.

▪︎

"I'll have to thank John for introducing us"

Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives (you asked to be added to this even though you don't even like or know him, I'm just reminding you it's not my fault that you're tagged here), @stanknotstark @ateez-star @littlemissnoname13 @gwlvr @handmaiden-of-mischief

#laszlo kreizler fanfic #laszlo kreizler imagine #laszlo x reader #dr. laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler x y/n #laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #daniel brühl #the alienist #the alienist x reader #the alienist imagine #luna writes #luna's requests #daniel bruhl

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bnha-more-like-bnh-gay · 3 years

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I saw your Izucrew headcanons, and I love them a lot! But I was also wondering if you had any Kiricrew headcanons as well.

Thank youuu! I’m glad🥺💙 ! ! ! ! ! Y E S I D O ! ! !

KIRICREW HEADCANNONS:

They quote memes and old vines constantly

Kaminari, Mina, and Kirishima are all fairly competitive, and have mini competitions almost constantly. Sero commentates and they often lose focus on what they’re doing because he makes jokes in his commentary

Mina makes them all dance. She tries to teach them, she really does. They end up getting it. Sero is already good at dancing though and helps give Kami and kiri pointers. Mina says sero is her favorite for weeks. Eventually it becomes an inside joke, and the entire squad refers to Sero as “the favorite”

About once a week, kiri goes on rants about how manly they all are, and by the end of it they’re usually all in tears

Whenever kami short circuits, they all make sure he’s safe and take care of him. Whenever Mina is on her period (they refer to as shark week) they make sure she has the food she likes, chocolate, etc.

Whenever one of them gets self conscious about something (kiri thinking Kiri thinking his quirk , they all remind him how manly he is. Whenever sero gets frustrated about everyone calling him “plain,” they all talk about how great he is.

They gossip,,, so much,,, mainly Mina, sero, and Kami, but kiri gets intrigued too. Nobody knows how, but Mina will just pop up and share some gossip she heard. The first time she popped up, it was in Sero’s form. He didn’t see her walk in. She just appeared next to his bed yelling, “GUESS WHAT?!” He screamed

Kami and Mina both have ADHD, and often can’t sleep because of it

Kirishima and sero are both pretty optimistic people, and kamimari and Mina are very enthusiastic, they all hype each other up daily. It’s very chaotic,, but also fairly wholesome

They try to recreate the most chaotic vines

They hang out outside of campus a lot. They’ll go to arcades, the mall, the beach, etc.

They all take skincare fairly seriously, or at least have started to after their first sleepover. Mina brought a bunch of face masks. They now have mini spas at their sleepovers

They have Mario kart and super smash bros competitions. They have gotten noise complaints, and accidentally broken things before. But it’s fine, it’s fine. Yells of “FRICK YOU, SERO” have been heard throughout the building

They try to study together, they really do. They get distracted though, and before they know it it’s been four hours and they’re playing truth or dare

They binge watch pre-quirk era movies and compare sero to Spider-Man. They all then start trying to recreate the Spider-Man movies

Denki does help them with English and literature

After mina told kaminari how creepy m*neta was, and how uncomfortable he made her, kaminari stops hanging out with mineta all together. They all regularly bash mineta, and help sero wrap him up with his tape

They have so many nicknames for each other. Including, but not limited to Acid-o, dancing queen, Dwayne Johnson, shark boy, electric love, Thor but from Walmart, duck tape can fix it, and flex seal

Sero is fairly good at cooking, and they love him for it. Sero has referred to them as leaches because of this

Whenever one of them falls down the others all laugh. This has resulted in whoever fell down grabbing someone’s leg and making them fall over. This merely creates a domino effect and soon all of them are laughing hysterically in a pile on the floor

Mina and Kami get really bad test anxiety. Sero and kiri always try to remind them that they’re trying their best and that’s enough, and that they believe in them, and that just because they’re not the best at taking tests doesn’t mean they’re dumb.

One time they ram into kirishimas old bullies at the mall, and Mina absolutely obliterated them while Sero talked Kiri down from a panic attack

In order of most impulsive to least impulsive, it goes Mina, Kirishima, Kamimari, and Sero

Mina and kirishima both have embarrassing stories of each other from middle school that they love to share with Kami and sero

Kiri and Kami both have anxiety. Sero and Mina always try to remind them that it’s okay to not be okay sometimes, and that their feelings are valid

They’ve tried to find cryptids before, and have gone ghost hunting

After finding out that Bakugou is indeed a bully, and hearing about what he’s done to Midoriya, Mina and the entire squad start an anti bullying campaign in the school, and lead an anti bullying seminar with the izucrew, sharing their experiences, talking about how to help, etc.

They hold mini game shows and have gotten mist of the class to participate in them as well. They’ve also hosted a biweekly game night for the class that gets very intense. Aizawa wants a raise, but secretly enjoys watching his chaotic class of gremlins

They train together a lot. Working on special attacks, weight training, running, etc. Mina and kiri are both pretty buff, and they’re helping sero and Kami with weight training. Sero and Mina are better at aerial attacks. Kamimari is the best at hand to hand combat. Kaminari and sero are best at long distant combat with their quirks, and are especially helping Mina get better at them using her acid.

I shall add more later as well! I love these four so much😭👏🙌 I hope you enjoyed these though!!

#bnha #mha #kirisquad #kiricrew #kamicrew #serosquad #mina gery #bnha mina #mina ashido #sero hanta #bnha sero #bnha kaminari #denki kaminari #bnha kirishima #kirishima eijirou #anti bakugou katsuki

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flickeringart · 3 years

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Sagittarius Sun and Moon Combinations

Planets represent different energetic principals in the life of an individual – the signs show how these energies express themselves.

Having an inner planet (or luminary) in the sign of Sagittarius gives the personality enthusiasm, an expansive quality. No matter what other placements the person has, the energy and spirited nature is going to come through.

To simplify;

The Sun represents individuation, ideal self-expression and conscious self-expression.

The Moon represents instinct, emotional nature and personal needs.

Sagittarius Sun – Gemini Moon

This person has a difficult time keeping the enthusiasm in check. Once the ball is set rolling, it doesn’t move in a straight line, it bounces off the walls until it accidentally hits a target. The overall personality is set on being honest, but in the jungle of information one could get confused about what one’s thoughts actually are. They change so fast and move from this to that – it might feel like there’s no truth except the constant search for truth. The person would crave stimulation and be allergic to boredom. The personality would be unsuited to work that requires stamina and determination – there’s too much scattered energy living inside this individual to mobilize towards a concrete goal. The excitement of living is more important than anything that can be accomplished – to inspire, charm and have fun is what this person lives for. When potentials aren’t actualized or when the person is forced to follow a strict path it will be difficult to find any joy. But, even in the midst of restriction, there’s a light-heartedness and a willingness to provide a spark of inspiration. The person is full of ideas and pride, anything could be an adventure if one is allowed to exercise one’s creative mind and bring some life to existence. On the down side, this person would feel disinclined to define themselves in any way. To remain in a state of potential is much preferred to concretize a stance, a need or a desire. Everything depends on the moment, what arises and what is called for with this combo. The constant state of flexibility could benefit the person but be detrimental at the same time. The effort and dedication it takes to wait for something to actualize itself through a longer process doesn’t necessarily appeal to a person with these placements. On one level, it’s as if this person isn’t registering the pressures of life, but is sublimating them, dealing with them as mental concepts rather than being squarely in the experience of them. Keeping things moving and avoiding soaking in experiences could lead to feelings of meaninglessness and futility, despite the original proclivity to be optimistic. This is a healthy state, presumably, which gives the mutable personality some depth instead of mere superficial excitement. When the person matures, there’s recognition of value in the journey, and value in information. Not to mention the recognition of power in knowledge.

Sagittarius Sun – Pisces Moon

There’s a lot of optimism and sensitivity to this combo. While the Sagittarius personality might be able to brush things off and put themselves above any petty criticism of their character, the Piscean need is to be loved by everyone. Life is not worth living if there’s not a genuine belief in love, and depending on what circumstances the person find themselves in, the dream of bliss might get crushed or kept intact. Even though the process of individuation for this kind of person is to gain confidence, a spirit of enthusiasm and trust, the person is originally prone to want to retreat into a state of non-separateness. There’s a tendency to idealize people and places, to live with a kind of bitter-sweet outlook on life. While the person would strive to always have things be exciting and to explore things outside of the comfort zone, there would be great emotional sensitivity to stimuli which could hold them back. The person would perhaps more often than not end up exploring their interests and fascinations in private – exploring the inner world of dreams and images could be very satisfying. Since Sagittarius and Pisces are universal signs, there might be an enhanced capacity to intuitively know things, to intuitively grasp complex themes and patterns within and without. Both signs hold broad and inclusive perspectives and seeks to make sense of the totality of reality through meaning and purpose. The limited and the personal is not this person’s primary concern. The essence of life is sought on a general level. There’s an awareness of the unseen, a great love affair with God and an acceptance to be led through existence back to one’s source. Although the person might go through episodes of sadness and world-weariness, the Sagittarian identity that is unfolding throughout life is designed to have faith, to inspire, to convey wisdom and adopt a more or less carefree attitude - never loosing sight of the big picture. The Piscean tendency to be thoughtful and introspective adds a nice touch of depth to the personality, and a remarkable ability to feel what is taking place emotionally on a collective level. The person lives in connection with humanity and the world more than others, always picking up on trends of the times.

Sagittarius Sun – Virgo Moon

There’s a concentration and an attention to detail in the quest for knowledge. The zest for life is paired with practical reason – there’s an awareness that extraordinary life experiences won’t just fall in one’s lap, they are put together piece be piece. The tendency is to plan, to organize and process everything, which could put a damp cloth over the desire to be care-free. Anxiety over whether everything is going to work out is conflicting with the trust that the person strives to develop. Sagittarius Suns are supposed to take on a broad vision, a perspective that allows for mishaps and bumps in the road because one knows that it’s all part of divine plan. The Virgo Moon effectively counteracts this by being aware of things that could go wrong from a more earth-based perspective. To ride a bike without a helmet could end up in a disaster or eating too many sweets could make the person hyper-active. The Virgo temperament is not designed to overlook these little things, which could make the person frustrated because the Sagittarian spirit doesn’t want to be limited by petty things. The advantage, however, is that the clumsiness and boldness of the person is toned down by a careful and hyper-aware disposition that could serve to keep them out of trouble. The friction that is created between a rational and physically anchored perspective and a adventurous and freedom-loving one can produce an interesting dynamic. There’s a push and pull between self-actualization and basic personal attributes. The need to have established routines that guarantee optimal health and efficiency has to exist alongside the process of finding oneself, the process of actualizing as an individual. As long as there’s mere focus on ritual and everyday normality, there’s nothing that sparks the self-expression. Once there’s room for excitement and pursuing an intuitive path, the Virgo attributes can come in handy putting all the knowledge into practice and not loosing sight of the importance of specifics. Both signs are mutable, so adaptability is a great strength, although stubbornness and skepticism might kick in every so often. One should take care as to not let the belief in one’s intellectual capacity cause ego-inflation. Knowledge should be used for good of all, not to enhance one’s own sense of superiority.

Sagittarius Sun – Sagittarius Moon

With the Sun and Moon in Sagittarius nothing stands in the way of pure enjoyment of life. Independence, freedom, travel, exploration, adventure – life is calling them to set out on a quest for truth, a journey of the spirit. This person would not want to settle and would prefer to keep up the speed, even in old age. There’s a tendency to live as if one has already reserved a place in heaven, free of sin, free of guilt. There’s nothing to impede or hinder this person because life itself is what is treasured, not the particular form or circumstance. On the down side, this attitude could exclude the awareness of denser emotional states, making the person prone to gloss over negativity by viewing it as a betrayal of the eternal spirit. There’s validity to the experience of limitation and lack – the denial of these is to avoid going deeper and cope by flying up into the realm of belief in eternal life. Although this person would generally be open to a multitude of perspectives, there would be a strong sense of the correctness of personal opinion. The need to preach one’s stance with force could upset a few people. There’s a censoring that could happen which would seem selfish and narrow-minded. Not to mention that there can be a scatteredness to the person’s thinking that could make their message seem insubstantial and backed by confidence rather that convincing arguments. The task is to adjust and evolve into the more refined traits of Sagittarius, to cultivate compassion and understanding for people, to uplift and inspire through genuine love of life rather than going down a path of reckless and irresponsibility. It’s good to have confidence but it should not be acquired through rubbing one’s competence in other people’s faces and bragging unnecessarily about one’s broad knowledge and insight. One should watch out for the risk of viewing oneself as superior, bossiness can hardly be labeled a virtue – it’s childish and immature. The person might not be suited to lead because of their strong ambivalent and independent streak, but I could see this combo being a great side-kick, a resource of great value that would have to be kept on ”long leash” in order to be willing to work under someone else. The person would definitely need variety and freedom to act on impulses.

Sagittarius Sun – Libra Moon

The bold and fearless self-expression is slightly modified by the need to enhance the self through entering relationships. The person naturally gravitates toward self-flattery disguised as humility. The effort to be charming, sociable and well-liked is on autopilot while the more bold and uninhibited individuality needs to be developed and expressed consciously. The person cares about how other people perceive them, for better and for worse. To develop the Sagittarian traits one might need to live from an outlook of a more general and universal standpoint, viewing social interaction as an experience on the road to truth rather than an end in and of itself. The person might benefit from taking risks by speaking their mind when it isn’t socially advantageous, to push the limits of what is socially appropriate. It might not be comfortable, but it could be worth it in order to live more from a place of freedom than restriction. The Libra Moon needs to navigate carefully as to ensure optimal social and relational esteem. Personal safety and satisfaction depends on having other people to bounce their ideas off of. There’s difficulty in merely setting out on one’s own and trusting one’s gut – everything is done within the framework of a social context. Libra is very aware of the fact that one doesn’t exist as an island unto oneself, there’s other people that contribute to form one’s own life. Being with the right people at the right place and the right time makes all the difference to who one is. There’s some validity to this perspective but it’s also very limited and superficial. By developing one’s Sagittarian expression it’s possible to transcend the personal and the social and see others as fellow travelers of the world – equally independent and valuable despite all the differences. The Libra Moon is covertly competitive, giving off the impression that they’re merely out to make everyone else feel respected and seen. In fact, to be pleasant is their agenda, to ”win” at the social game. The Sagittarius Sun however, makes the person prone to be a little arrogant and blunt which could taint the perfect impression one is trying to preserve. Speaking first and thinking later could put this person in a tight spot of quickly trying to patch things up by doing the socially appropriate thing of apologizing or compensating for the slip-ups.

Sagittarius Sun – Cancer Moon

The optimistic and casual attributes of the ideal self becomes difficult to accommodate for in the midst of mood-swings, strong emotional attachments and apprehensiveness about the ”world out there”. The natural way of coping with life is through putting up strong defenses against threat. There’s great sensitivity and need of mothering, which the person seeks to provide for themselves – either through partnership, a family or perhaps a close circle of friends. The ability to care and support others through their ups and downs in life could earn them a positive reputation of being considerate and trust-worthy. However, the Sagittarian potential calls the person to develop qualities of openness, curiosity, fearlessness and trust. A spirit of adventure is worth cultivating while having a safe base to return to when the world starts to seem too harsh and inconsiderate. Sagittarius Suns are not very keen on admitting to vulnerability and weakness, but this combo requires these states to be factored in. To live as if there’s no tomorrow and as if one is immortal and exempt from frailty is not possible to get away with. Feelings should not be viewed as an inconvenience, they should be valued for the experience they provide. There’s no use glossing-over personal and primal needs - they exist in their own right. I can picture this person as a parent, capable of being soft and gentle with the children yet ready to play and take them out on little adventures when the mood hits. It’s after all not only important to provide shelter and protection but to instill an confidence that allows one to test limits and attempting to fulfill innate potential. There’s an element of trust that needs to be cultivated in order to venture outside of the safe zone, a trust in life to be helpful rather than destructive. These signs complement each other because they respresent different dynamics, on the Cancer end there’s awareness of threats to survival and a feelings of vulnerability, on the Sagittarius end there’s the pursuit of knowledge and freedom of the spirit. Cancer is primordial while Sagittarius is universal. Literary and philosophical knowledge might not make the person feel safe, but it will be how the person expresses their individuality.

Sagittarius Sun – Capricorn Moon

If this isn’t the embodiment of the dutiful pursuer of truth I don’t know what it is. There’s a need to achieve something of substance, of greatness. The feeling of abundance is not there from the get go, so the person has to summon their resources and use them wisely as to get ahead. The person is very controlled and conscious of how they present themselves, strategically trying to get everything right as to reach their long term goal. On the downside, there’s a lot of internal pressure and inhibitions of spontaneity which would take a toll on them eventually. The path ahead is to develop the Sagittarian worldview of expansion and freedom rather than discipline and scarcity. Being spontaneous and enthusiastic about things is how the person will self-actualize. However, since the need is to stay within convention, there’s a bit of a conflict present. Ideally, the person would combine the need to achieve worldly success and the pull to live a life free of responsibilities and commitments in honor of the eternal spirit. If the person decides to follow the beaten path of prestige and societal approval, there might be an inner urge to break free from all restrictions and limitations. It might be wise to try and combine the desire to move and explore with a sense of responsibility – to seek to accomplish something ”worthwhile” according to convention while being bold and passionate about it. The inner compulsion to always aim high could pay off, or it could make the person stressed and unproductive. The Sagittarian Sun indicates that there should be an attempt of freeing energy, of overcoming the burden of judgement, of rooting for life rather than mechanical and dead materia. The Sagittarian philosophy is that life is supposed to be lived, not boxed in and deemed as unworthy because of superficial lack. All life is worthy, and there need not be any punishment that is implied by the apparent boundaries of structure. The person could have a hard time accepting a more liberal world-view for themselves that doesn’t define right and wrong so clearly. The Cap Moon is more or less tied to playing within the confines of structure, but with the Sagittarius Sun there’s the potential for introducing variety, a broader perspective and a more optimistic attitude. The structures aren’t set in place to enslave the human spirit, they should work for the expansion of all.

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Sagittarius Sun – Aries Moon

The warrior that strives to gain wisdom. The inborn personal attributes are that of force, competition and impulsiveness. The task is to mobilize these in order to actualize an identity of curiosity, independence and trust in a benevolent universe. The person might be quite aggressive in the pursuit of answers to the big questions in life, seeking challenge and confrontation with life as to test one’s capacity to prevail and conquer. There’s a lot of energy to this combo – and a lot of emphasis on independence. The person would first and foremost stand up for themselves and leave others to do the same. There’s little tolerance for dependence as quality in others and in oneself. Strength is always emphasized – this person has nothing to gain from acting meek and vulnerable. Anger and frustration is the most common response to things that stand in the way – whether it’s an opinion another person holds or of it’s a literal lack of support – confrontation is the immediate reaction. Even if the person is quick to aggression, it’s usually easily diffused and forgotten. These fire signs live in the moment and are not prone to hold grudges. That being said – they won’t back down and is set on furthering themselves in all that their doing – especially if they’re continually opposed. The Sagittarius Sun indicates that the person is supposed to seek knowledge and broaden their perspective through exposing themselves to variety of culture and thought-systems. Identity is found through sharing and consuming knowledge, through breathing life back into a world of stagnation. The Aries Moon jumps on every opportunity to excel and to be the best, providing a fighting spirit to the more casually bold Sagittarian Sun. The person would be prone to provoke people unnecessarily, always wanting to compete and lead the way. However, the expression of the fire signs is usually so direct and uncalculated that it comes off as pure, even though it’s fundamentally self-centered, At least, it is honest and relatively uncomplicated. The Aries directness further enhances the Sagittarian tendency to speak the truth no matter the cost. Not to mention, the Sagittarian proclivity to be scattered and all over the place is counteracted a bit by the simple and straight-forward Arien nature.

Sagittarius Sun – Aquarius Moon

This combo represents the peak of objective perspective. The person is emotionally separated from the irrational, moody and earthy human condition. One lives for potential and that which can be found beyond the horizon. There’s likely to be a restlessness and annoyance with the current society and other people’s limited perspective. Ordinary and mundane is so ”yesterday”, it’s a pity that one can’t be rid of the current unevolved existence and jump to the future without having to go through a long and process of unnecessary in-between states. The person is likely to be the type to hang out in the thought-scape rather than on the earth-plane. There’s a tendency to get bored very quickly and be a bit uninterested in idle conversation and interaction with other people who are light years behind in the progression of thought. The path for this person is to cultivate passion and inspired involvement in worldly knowledge – to read and educate oneself in order to get a more well-rounded picture of what it means to be alive. Sagittarius is all about spreading truth and connection to essence, while Aquarius is more about the fixed thought-based blueprint that dictates form. There’s a coolness to this person that is their fundamental nature – it’s not rooted in being but rather in becoming. Sagittarius is not cool but vibrant and alive, ready to interact with the variety of expressions of the universal spirit. The person’s task is to become through being, to find the face of self in all fleeting experiences and appreciate them as they come and go. There’s value in the brokenness, there’s beauty in the imperfect. The Aquarius Moon might have a hard time viewing life in this way, having to label and categorize and put things into context. It’s worth to consciously develop the capacity to perceive meaning in experiences, to connect to the intelligent source of life that is not found through perfection but underlying everything. There’s more to life than hacking the blueprint and getting things to work better, look better or feel better. There’s mysterious inner wisdom that is untamed and unbound, intelligently guiding one’s steps on the path of higher truth. To put in a word of caution, it might be tempting to view oneself as more important or superior than people with more primordial natures and simple minds. It’s true that people are different, but everyone plays a part in life however big or small.

Sagittarius Sun – Scorpio Moon

This is a freedom-lover, an explorer and an emotionally volatile individual. There’s a need to test, to push, to provoke while keeping all the vulnerable parts of oneself tucked away where they can’t be reached. The fundamental nature of this person is extremely sensitive to violation and feels things strongly. There’s an inner fear of being controlled or deceived to the point of paranoia. This is not to suggest that the Scorpio Moon radar is faulty and sees threat where there is none, it’s just that they can’t allow themselves to put their guard down. Ever. Through developing a Sagittarian individuality, there’s likely to be an increase in playfulness and chill, but at the core there’s always going to be suspicion. The person would want to promote the truth as a part of their individuality, to inspire and lift people’s spirits. However, the personal need for secrecy and privacy would present a contradiction. There’s an impulse to live out a destructive nature, to revel in powerful emotions and let people know that they shouldn’t be messed with. While the Sagittarian tendency is to view experiences from a ”higher perspective” of belief and philosophy, the Scorpio seeks to penetrate or be penetrated energetically. There are three choices in the book of Scorpio; being attacked, attack or hide. Although Sagittarius is bold and willing to take risks because there’s an attitude of optimism in everything they do, a proclivity to say things as they are and be honest, the person will not share things that can be used against them (if they can help it). The strength of these signs are very different, but they could potentially work together relatively successfully. The emphasis could be to make people aware of the power-holds and dishonesty that takes place underneath the surface layers of society and reality, to uncover and reveal things about others or oneself that grabs people’s attention and makes a statement. Transformation and truth is what this person is ultimately after and it could be pursued in all kinds of ways. It would be important to remember to keep the Scorpio paranoia in check and to be a little careful of boasting and inflating one’s ego unnecessarily. One has to show respect in order for other people to be willing to be respectful in turn. That being said, it is appropriate to call people out on their bullshit from time to time.

Sagittarius Sun - Taurus Moon

The path of self-actualization is to expose oneself to a variety of experiences while the personal need is to provide oneself with things of material value. The need to possess and have things be tangibly present in order to feel good doesn’t really go together with the realm of spirit. The Sagittarius Sun perceives the world in terms of higher truth – and it’s not an ultimate truth that a house provides stability. Yet, the person would need the material representation of safety and could not deny the importance of the physical realm. The development of the Sagittarian identity would take the person into the realm of abstraction rather than tangible perception. Life opens up and is more than what needs to be done on a routine basis. The earthy and stubborn temperament would be balanced out by the desire to introduce new impressions and new experiences. The need for a solid ”living and working” situation would prevail, but the person would ultimately aim higher than that in terms of individuation. Some Sagittarius Suns would be content with exploring their interests in private, to explore fascinating topics that adds to their own life while other would have to venture out into the physical world – to smell, see and touch different countries, to be in the sensory experience of it all. Taurus is a very physical sign and would likely appreciate the concreteness of experiencing something in the flesh rather than as an abstraction. The ability to picture things vividly in the thought scape sometimes doesn’t come as easily to more earthy temperaments. This could make it difficult to get excited about something without actually being in the actual excitement. However, the Sagittarian Sun has the potential to provide a great intuitive and creative capacity. This combo could be indicative of a person that is keen on securing a predictable future and predictable present while not taking it all too seriously. Whatever happens, it’s fine. Life goes on and one can trust that things are going to work out – not that it’s going to fix itself but that one has the stubbornness and stamina to see things through. It also gives the person a willingness to not only be concerned with the material aspect of life, but to see meaning in experiences as they unfold and present themselves.

Sagittarius Sun – Leo Moon

Honoring oneself through living out inherent greatness is of utmost importance. The person needs to know that they are whole and magnificent without having to explore and expand through the experience of variety and diversity – however, they could use their knowledge and insight to enhance their authority. The person would feel as if they were blessed from birth with a specialness and a right to be admired and loved. The need to occupy space and claim a place of importance is pressing for this individual. Speaking their opinion, retelling stories and dwelling on the subject of one’s involvement in significant events would be typical. I make it sound as if it’s done in order to compensate for a sense of inferiority, and it could be, but often Leo Moons have a genuine air about them that is magical and captivating. The person would be inclined to dramatize their life, to demonstrate their radiance through everything they do. With a Sagittarius Sun, it would optimally be done through travel and the experience of culture, religion and ancient wisdom. Everything has to be profound and glorious with this person – grace and charm is what they embody without trying. What the person needs to develop throughout life is more of a casual nature, a broader perspective and a recognition of people’s sameness. Leo’s tendency is to enhance personhood and not be overly concerned with the universal spirit – the universal self. Sagittarius knows that the same life that is oneself is also found in the rest of the existence. By developing the Sagittarian identity, the person doesn’t have to tone themselves down and live as if their separate self wasn’t worth promoting. The person could sustain a sense of specialness and still acknowledge other people’s beauty and rightful participation in life. It would be wise to keep in mind that there’s a big risk to always assume that one is right. Although Sagittarius provide a sense of openness and willingness to adapt and blend in with the spirit of the location, Leo needs to claim and dominate the environment they’re in, the conversation they’re in. This doesn’t necessarily go over well if it’s done with arrogance– other’s would easily feel diminished and disrespected. However, if the person is more mature, this need to shine could be felt as a genuine, benevolent presence that makes other people comfortable.

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colderthancoldest · 3 years

Text

An Easy Alliance

Prompt: "You're here." "I'm here, just like I promised." & "I came back for you. I promised I would, and I did." (This Request)

Ao3 Link

Pairing: Dhawan!Master × Reader

Word Count: about 5k

Summary: It's not easy to be a human with a Tardis. You have a doorway to any where and time in the universe- however, the catch is that the worlds on the other side are often treacherous and it feels like they're against you at every turn. You begin to wonder if it's worth it, if you even deserve this opportunity, when a stranger saves you from it- in more ways than one. Maybe you're worth more than you know.

Various Tags: First meeting, falling in love, fluff and angst, happy ending, my goal is that you will cry but laugh by the end, im ambitious like that, relationship is open to interpretation

Warning: Feelings of Depression, passive suicidal thoughts (It's not that dark, it's actually quite optimistic by the end, but I always add a warning for anyone sensitive to these topics. Please stay safe, thank you.)

Note: Please let me know what you think! I don't often write in this style so I really appreciate feedback! Enjoy :D

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It's not easy to be a human with a Tardis.

It's a bit of a long story as to how you've obtained a Tardis of your own in the first place.

Essentially you found it, purely by accident. The ship had fled from the Time War and was left to rot when it's pilot was killed. Tardises are known to be temperamental, and humans are notoriously weak telepaths- but neither of you would get anywhere without each other.

In short, you struck up a deal. You take care of the Tardis, learn how to maintain her, and in return- she becomes your door to anywhere and any time in the universe.

It's difficult, seeing as the two of you can't communicate the way telepaths are able to talk to Tardises, but she- the Tardis insisted 'she'- was making do.

She translated the manual for you, provided you with food and clothes and shelter, and was patient as you slowly learned how to fix and fly her.

As if teaching yourself every inch of advanced and sentient technology wasn't difficult enough- you also found yourself deeply out of place in the far away lands the Tardis took you to.

You're human. You're mortal. You look, dress, and act in a way that's out of place in most non-human societies. Even humans from the distant future- as little as a mere few centuries ahead- barely recognize you.

You're clever and fast, but it's not always enough.

It's all too easy to offend people from cultures you've never met. Even if you do nothing wrong, it's your word against theirs.

If you had a nickel for every time you've nearly been killed by a misunderstanding... Suffice it to say, you could easily afford the tungsten wiring your Tardis is always quick-tempered about.

It's in one of these situations that you meet... him.

You're alone, as you always are, with cuffs scratching at your wrists.

The locals of a planet from the future have opted to skip the 'fair trial' bit and head directly to execution.

Of all the ways to go, you can't help but feel a bit... disappointed. A human with a Tardis, a person with a door to anywhere in the known universe, to any time that's ever existed- and this is how it ends.

You suppose you've already gotten more out of life than you could have hoped.

Maybe it's best to quit while you're ahead.

"Really? That's all?" a voice echoes about the large room you're being detained in.

You whip your head about in a feeble and failing attempt to pinpoint the source of the noise. Whoever it is sounds almost amused.

"Someone so quick, someone who's been so careful with the hand they've been dealt, and you're willing to give it all up- here and now?" the strange voice questions.

You spin your head around but there's nothing except shadows. You're set to die at noon and it's barely dawn.

"Who said anything about giving up?" you reply sharply.

You're scared, but that's no reason to show it. You grit your teeth and glare into the darkness around you. You can't pinpoint the figure meandering about in the dark.

"Why? You did, my dear," the voice replies, sounding pleasantly amused.

You squint in a failing attempt to make out the shape stepping into the pale moonlight.

"Me? You don't know a thing about me! I've never met you in my life!" you retort.

And you know this, because you've barely met anyone. You travel to see the sights, not to interfere. You visit worlds to satisfy your curiosity and nothing more. Whoever this is, you've certainly never told them who you are.

The stranger only chuckles faintly.

"I know all about you. A human with a Gallifreyan Tardis? I've been observing you ever since I first detected your ship on Earth.

Then again, it's not your ship- is it?"

Your eyes widen momentarily, but you're quick to force your racing heart back down your throat.

"What I do is none of your business," you defend yourself.

"And what I do is none of yours," the stranger replies in a passive song.

"However," they continue.

They step out from the dark and into the white streaks of moonlight sneaking in from the skylight in the ceiling.

They... look like a human man. A... quite well-kept and well-dressed human man.

A deep purple jacket over an eccentric checkered suit, perfect dark hair that curls at the ends like waves over his face, and dark but shining eyes to match.

You can tell in an instant that you've never met anyone like this before.

"Things have grown dull and you're the first exception to the rule I've seen in a very long time," he says in a tone that suggests this confession is somehow a compliment. "You're never after anything. You only observe."

He tilts his head.

"As much as I dislike humans, somehow- you're different."

He paces about you until you can't see him anymore because of the way the cuffs keep you pinned to the chair in the middle of the room.

You lose sight of him for a brief second.

You fear the worst but then...

The cuffs fall with a clink and your hands are suddenly free.

"For you and only you," he says as he paces back into your field of vision, "I propose an alliance."

"An alliance?" you echo flatly. It's a question, to get him to elaborate, but also a surprise.

All your time traveling, and no one's ever offered you such a thing before.

"Yes, dear," he says in a way that you would assume was patronizing if not for the polite tone of his voice, "an alliance. Your human mind is so loud, I've heard you wondering to yourself how to communicate with your ship, how to repair her, how to fly her. I can be beneficial in that field."

He sounds proud of himself.

You don't cave quickly. You aren't that naive.

You haven't made it through countless adventures- your feet pounding over the surfaces of countless planets, escaping all sorts of dangers- without being careful.

"And in return?" you ask cautiously. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"In return, you help me," he says warmly.

He looks you over with an amused smirk at his lips.

"You see, I have big plans for a certain enemy of mine. However, I don't have time to deal with the day-to-day nonsense of Earth. You help me with the little things and in return, whenever you need saving, I promise to be there."

He taps his chest with a prideful grin.

"I swear on my hearts."

You brush past him as you make your way for the door. You'd better get going before the guards return for your scheduled execution.

The sun is coming up, dying the sky a beautiful purple haze.

"You think that's something you can promise? All of time and space, and you expect me to believe that?" you scoff at his words, "You'll abandon me the moment it's convenient. No deal," you tell him.

He slips past you and reaches an arm across the doorframe to block your path. You cross your arms and glare at him.

To your surprise, he looks angry.

"I'll have you know I take great offence to that! I make good on my promises- unlike some people," he grumbles that last part to himself.

"If I say I won't abandon you, I won't abandon you. If I say I'll be back, I'll come back," he says sharply as he stares you down.

There's something in the way he locks his jaw, something in the way he takes offense to your distrust, something about the way he scrunches his nose and his brows- that make you realize he's telling the truth.

"I keep my word," he insists gravely. "Which is something- you'll find in this universe- not many people do. This arrangement is mutually beneficial. You won't be offered a better deal than this."

You exchange a glare with him for a long moment.

His gentle features are twisted up in anger, his eyes betray and old pain that you've dug up by offending him, his hand remains locked on the doorframe to block your path- and, for some reason, it makes you smile.

You huff a small breath.

"You haven't done this whole 'alliance proposition' thing before, have you?" you ask him.

He falters.

"I haven't had any need for it before," he reasons. "However, I'm currently on a bit of a schedule. I have a lot of dominos to set up before my best enemy arrives to topple them," he admits. His expression softens at the mention of this 'best enemy'.

You pat his shoulder and then pry his hand from the doorframe to pass him by.

He caves easily and follows you outside.

The dawn is breaking and you still need to get back to your ship.

"Alright," you decide with a small sigh.

You do need help with your Tardis and- more than anything- you certainly need someone to watch your back.

It's not every day some well dressed stranger saves you from your own curiosity. You feel obligated to return the favor- seeing as he did just save your life- so you decide you might as well make the most of it.

"What do you need me to do?" you ask, hopefully and yet still bracing for the worst.

Your newest ally grins.

He mostly wants information about Earth. He doesn't tell you why- and you don't ask.

It doesn't matter all that much to you anyway. With your Tardis, you've watched whole apocalypses pass you by. You've grown numb to it. In the end, it's always just a different verse of the same old worn-out song.

You're tired and nothing holds your interest for long anymore. Whatever he's planning, you doubt it'll have any effect on you. You might as well keep up your end of the deal.

Once you gather everything on the requested topic, he asks for information on a new one. He wants to know about Cybermen next. He wants to know about The Great Cyberwars- but only odd specifics from near the end that were left undocumented.

You begin to get the feeling that he needs to research their timeline for some reason, but he has an odd fear of them simultaneously. He doesn't want to get too close to the subject.

Again, you don't ask what it's for- and in return: you get more than you gave.

Your latest ally- he has yet to give you his name- plays translator for your Tardis. He explains bits of the manual you were stuck on and how the Tardis functions as a unit.

He's polite and- once you get past his gallows humor- he can be quite funny.

He explains how certain pieces of the Tardis controls have to be flipped in unison because Tardises are meant to have multiple pilots.

He's odd, he's blunt, and strangest of all: he's a very good cook.

He's the kind of person who always has a secret up their sleeve and he surprises you in all the best ways.

You... begin not to mind his company.

He always seems to know what you're about to say before you say it. You blame that part on his psychic abilities.

However, it's almost nice to be understood in that way. In an abstract, personal, understanding way you've never known before.

In response, he gauges that your words and actions are genuine. His ability to sense your unfiltered thoughts let him know that it's safe to open up to you in return, little by little.

Without even realizing the gradual change- he's suddenly a friend.

Now when you go out on adventures, when you're a lone mortal facing down the strange and terrifying perils of the universe, you're drastically less afraid.

Instead of passing through with your head down, you're able to stare up at the stars and admire then. You can safely look forwards rather than watching over your shoulder.

You're living instead of surviving.

It happened so gradually, you'd barely even noticed.

One day your Tardis lands in a heavily guarded patch of sacred land. It looks like the hillside near a heavily fortified church.

You're not fast enough to explain why you're there, and even if you were- the local authority won't let you. They're very strict people with very black and white thinking.

You're tied to a chair and tossed in the back corner of the guard outpost. So few people get this far past their defenses that the locals don't even have a proper prison to toss you in.

It's a long day indeed, awaiting whatever fate they have planned for you.

You're stuck in the box, alone, tied up in the dull silence. It's... annoying. Instead of wondering if perhaps you deserve it, you decide to escape.

At some point, the guard leaves you alone. You kick the chair around and reach for the scissors on the guard's desk with your hand pinned tight to the metal frame of the chair with rope.

You don't have a chance of escaping, the physics simply aren't there. And even if you get untied, you'll never make it far alive. Still, that doesn't mean you're not going to try. You're not going to let the universe- nor your own apathy and fear- get the best of you this time.

A different guard returns all too quickly. They're draped in the huge robes that the people who occupy this 'holy' land always wear. Of all the possible places to visit, you not only landed in the most heavily fortified part but also the most boring. It was basically just a monastery with a military guarding it.

You're not sure how you're going to reason yourself out of the fact that it very clearly looks like you're trying to escape.

You sharply kick at the guard's knee. It's all you can do. You're not sure if you can take them down, but it's worth a shot-

"Bloody- F- Gah- Do you mind?!"

You recoil visibly at the familiar voice.

"You?" You ask sharply.

The faux-guard pulls their hood down to reveal a familiar face. He looks quite annoyed.

"Actually, my acquaintances call me, O- but yes. It's me.

We made an agreement after all!" he hisses as if this all should be obvious to you.

"You're here," you observe, still quite shocked by the reveal.

He only rolls his eyes.

"Yes. I'm here, just like I promised. Do you really think so little of me?

I told you. When you need saving, I'll be there.

I keep my promises."

Without bothering to ask, he takes a seat on your lap. He sits sideways so the pressure doesn't pinch your thighs- which, all things considered- is quite polite of him.

He reaches down to his injured leg and rubs it with his hand for a moment. He appears to have a previous injury in that leg, and you very clearly haven't helped matters. Either way, once he's chalked up your assault to some bruising, he brushes the injury off.

"No, I'm just surprised," you tell him.

"You didn't think I would save you?" he asks, a little disappointed.

You press your lips together in a neutral expression. Whatever you think of saying, he already knows every word of it.

"I couldn't bet my life on it," you say simply.

He pulls a knife from his pocket and reaches around you to to saw through the tough rope.

"You tried to escape this time," he observes aloud.

You bite your tongue.

Yes, you did- didn't you?

It's interesting, the things you've begun to do ever since you gained someone to share your travels with. Someone who knows what it's like to do all of this. Someone who... knows what it's like to spend it alone, spending every day wondering if you're worth it.

He must hear your thoughts, as per usual, because he can't look you in the eye. He soon stands up again and leads you out.

He doesn't say another word as you return to your separate Tardises and leave.

Things get better from there and soon it's a pattern.

You have fun, on your own. You see the sights, you walk the streets, you eat the food. It's quiet, but it's nice not to have anyone else with you to color the world in any other way than it already is.

It's you and the world.

You and your flirts with danger.

You and narrowly escaping the authorities.

You and wondering directly into the jaws of the latest beast- only to be met with the familiar eyes of someone who is no longer a stranger.

"Again?" he asks.

Sometimes he plays dress up, sometimes he simply hypnoses the guards to let him through, but no matter the situation he's always dramatic about it.

Seeing him always brings a smile to your face. It's rare, but it's always familiar. Being 'saved' becomes more of an excuse than a necessity.

There's a learning curve to traveling the universe and before long, you've reached it's peak. You learn what to do, what to say, how to keep yourself safe.

You don't need him anymore, but you're more than willing to let him drop in to 'save' you anytime. It becomes a comfort, to know that even when you mess up, you're worth saving.

Sometimes you're in the middle of taunting a guard who hasn't even arrested you yet and when he shows up to hypnotize the problem away.

And sometimes, he suggests that he'd better stick around for a bit to make sure you stay safe.

And sometimes you recommend the pair of you get food together, and sometimes that meal turns into a walk through the park, and sometimes that walk turns into laying in fields of grass, staring up at the stars, exchanging ideas about the possibilities of this big old universe you find yourselves in.

And sometimes you wonder why this person, who's so kindhearted and protective, so warm and good-humored, keeps you at arms length.

There's something more about him, you suspect. There has to be.

You're willing to bet anything that it's something dark- but he never shows it.

He's different when it comes to you. You're not certain why.

Is it because you can't lie to him? Is it because you're honest with him? Is it because you don't ask, you don't press, you just let him be at your side whenever he chooses?

It hits you all at once one day that perhaps this arrangement has become more.

It stays true to its core, to be mutually beneficial and serve in favor both parties personal interests, but that's not all it is anymore.

Without realizing, it's suddenly two parties who mean a great deal to each other. Suddenly, you're choosing to help each other rather than acting in order to receive something in return.

You're not scared of danger anymore. You know how to get out of it now- and even if you can't, you know he'll be there.

You trust that he'll be there.

He's no longer contingency, he's normalcy.

You're never traveling alone because he's always there, in the back of your mind, as you wonder if he might join you should the opportunity arise.

Maybe you should voice this next time you see him.

When you run into him, you're offering information- per another strangely specific request- that you obtained from a library in the distant future that your ally may or may not be banned from.

You consider asking why he can't fetch it himself, but you don't. He either offers information or not. One of the rules is that neither of you ask about the others' personal business.

When you arrive at your typical meeting place, his own Tardis is a mess.

It looks... like a cluttered house inside.

The way it's decorated feels very unlike someone like him.

He immediately hugs you as you enter. That's how you know something's wrong.

You catch him rather than hug him. You suddenly feel too sick to remember any of the things you had wanted to tell him.

"What's wrong?" is all you ask softly.

He crumbles.

He remains as elegant and unyielding as always, but it's easy to feel that he's trembling. His breathing shakes and his fingers lock into the fabric of your coat.

It feels like a long time, ages, until he gets out a small sentence.

"I... have to go away for a while."

You're scared to know what that means.

"How long?" You ask tearfully.

"It depends," he breathes quietly.

"On what?"

"If my plan works."

There's a long silence as his words hang heavy in the air.

You don't know what to say.

The rule is that neither of you ask about the others' personal business.

You want to honor that rule but... the way he's acting... it scares you.

He clings to you, his fingers clawing desperately at your sleeves as he hangs his head down low, but he doesn't know what to say either.

Eventually... he decides on a sentence.

"Do you remember... when we first met?" he asks quietly.

You nod.

"How could I forget?" you chuckle warmly in a weak attempt to lighten the mood.

He smiles for a split second. It comes and goes in the blink of an eye. He shakes his head and his expression grows darker as if he's scolding himself for something.

He lets go of your clothes and turns away.

"You didn't bother trying to escape on your own. The whole universe at your fingertips and... you didn't know what to do with it.

I could hear your mind- I always can- and that day you... were about to give up fighting."

You look off to the side and let your eyes fall to the floor.

It's true. The whole universe ahead of you and you were nearly too tired to keep living in it.

You don't believe you deserved to find the Tardis anyways.

Who were you to have a doorway to the universe? Who were you to intrude where you didn't belong? You never belong anywhere anyways. That was why you left Earth in the first place.

There was never anywhere you fit. The only way you can justify your existence is by being useful, to the Tardis, and then to your new friend.

On your own... you're no one. Sometimes you wonder why you bother at all.

"What about it?" you ask coldly as you cross your arms.

You don't want to think about that anymore.

The two of you.... Helping each other gives you purpose. It gives you something to keep busy with.

You still felt the way you felt before you knew him sometimes, but you're improving. That has to be worth something.

He looks sad and broken.

You suddenly remember that he can hear every abstract hint of emotion racing through your mind.

"I feel that way too," he confesses.

His words hurt to hear.

He slowly wonders off through the room. There he goes. Keeping you at arms length again.

"It's been fun... but it isn't sustainable. My lifespan is far longer than yours. It's not worth... us hurting each other over something that can't last."

He shakes his head.

"All this time," he begins, "I've been working towards an end. I'm going to make a stand with my best enemy. I'm going to tell her everything I've learned.

I'm going to make it so that she doesn't have another choice.

I'm going to end something that should have never existed. For good."

He sounds determined all of a sudden. His last mission.

He turns to you abruptly.

"I'm telling you this because I won't be able to help you anymore," he says steadily.

You blink at the tears in your eyes.

Oh.

So...

That's what he means.

"I... understand," is all you can say.

There's a long moment of silence and then-

You rush over to hug him. He lifts you up until your toes can barely reach the ground. He holds you tight against him and spins you about as your tears splash onto the shoulder of his coat.

You want to beg him not to go, but you know he's been preparing for this. He's clearly made up his mind. There's nothing you can do to stop him.

And anyways.

He already knows what you're thinking.

"It'll be okay," he promises.

You want to believe him.

You can't.

It's quiet now.

Something about it all makes everything else feel quieter.

Everything feels... perhaps distant is the word you're actually looking for.

And you feel tired again. No, apathetic is what you're looking for. As if you can't bring yourself to care about the real world anymore.

You feel like you're back where you started.

You don't know what to do.

You have more than you deserve. You're smarter than you know what to do with. You're more than ever before and yet as powerless as always.

Or...

Maybe not.

You know more now. You can do more now.

You know what you're capable of when you aren't afraid and- as terrified as you are right now- you know what the right thing to do is.

It's time to put everything you've learned to good use. He’s saved your life after all- in far more ways than one. It’s time you return the favor.

"Doctor!" the Master shouts as the Doctor abandons him for the latest of countless times.

Why is he surprised anymore?

He should know by now that she always finds a loophole in his foolproof plans. That she always runs from danger. That she always leaves him in the end.

Now some idiot no-one cyberman-resistance soldier has pressed a button to detonate a planet-destroying bomb.

He'll be dead in seconds. Shattered into atoms and quirks and nothingness.

For as much as the Doctor leaves him, the Master simply can't bring himself to leave her. He can't stop chasing her.

Quite soon, he won't have a choice.

This is it. This is what finally pushes him over the edge.

If the Doctor can leave him for dead like this then... she isn't the person he thought she was anymore. He'll finally learn better. He'll finally give up on her.

It was a shame it was too late.

The particle is active.

He runs but... he isn't going to reach his Tardis in time.

He's alone.

And then suddenly he's not.

Suddenly he isn't in the crumbling Matrix room anymore. He isn't on Gallifrey at all.

He's standing, safe and sound, being held tight in someone's arms.

He comes to his senses slowly. The seconds don't feel real as they pass. He looks up to see that he's in your Tardis, in your arms, looking up at your face.

"You..." he breathes. He can barely feel reality around him.

"It just took a bit of fancy flying to swoop in, just a second in time, and save you," you smile at him.

He stares in disbelief.

"You came back for me," he says breathlessly.

"Of course I came back for you!" you chuckle. "It's like you're always saying. I promised I would, and I did."

"Saving you is my job!" he replies, still in shock.

"I had to return the favor sometime," you smile.

His face is still locked in an expression of disbelief. He's still processing this.

You decide to make it easier on him.

"How about this:" you suggest with a heavy heart, "we go back to saving each other. To adventures and pastimes and pretending this is nothing more than a profession partnership.

Most importantly, we both take it one day at a time.

And down the road, when we're done, once we've had all our fun, then we'll find out a way to go out in style.

Together."

He contemplates this for a moment.

"You won't be offered a better deal than this," you smirk. "You'd be smart to take it."

He shakes his head.

"No," he says firmly.

Your eyes widen.

"No?" You ask nervously.

The Master takes your hands in his own and laces your fingers together. He moves closer, his face inches from yours.

"No," he repeats. "I don't want to go back to how things were. I want a proper partnership.

You and me and the universe.

I don't know how I didn't see it before."

You laugh warmly as he presses his forehead to yours.

"I'll do it right this time," he promises. "I took care of what I needed to. No one will ever bother us now.

We can..."

His eyes darted about as he searched for the right words.

He held your hands tighter in his own.

"We can go back to saving each other- the universe be damned.

Every day.

For as long as you want," he promises wholeheartedly.

"Whenever you need saving, I'll be there."

Your heart is racing.

It's all you could ever want and more.

He is all you could ever want and more.

You don't need to agree out loud. He already knows. You voice it anyway.

"Okay," you grin.

In a strange way, you understand now.

You understand why he saved you.

You learned how to fly this Tardis. You learned how to save your friend from the clutches of death.

You are worth the life you've made for yourself and more.

You deserve to be happy- and you plan to be.

You don't know why you ever believed you didn't.

You have a doorway to anywhere. You have a hand to hold. You have a partner who would burn down every planet in the sky for you.

It's time to go out there and get in trouble and make mistakes. To fight the same old fight against every new day and always emerge triumphant.

And your partner is working on a new project. Something to do with regenerative healing using research he stole from the shambles of his old home.

With any luck, maybe the two of you can travel the universe forever.

#Thank you for reading!#please let me know what you think!#im always a bit unsure what people will think when I do characterxreader fics #but i think it turned out okay :)#dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfic #long post #doctor who #dw

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imagine-that · 4 years

Text

Agressive

Warnings: fluff, mild swearing, Peter Parker being more lovable and adorable than humanly possible

Pairing: Peter Parker x Rogers!Reader

AN: hey look, it’s Peter Parker word vomit round two!! I love most of this but Idk what I was thinking with that ending 😬🤦‍♀️ maybe you guys’ll like it though?? I guess I’ll have to wait and see. Also can you tell I’ve fallen in love with Peter? Because I definitely have.

With a deep breath you take one last punch at the bag in front of you, watching calmly as it goes flying across the gym.

“Woah!” A voice from behind you says, causing you to spin around.

“S-sorry! It’s just... that was.... that was so cool.” The boy says sheepishly.

“Yeah superhuman serum can usually make a person capable of stuff that others deem cool.” You say, unfazed by the look of pure amazement.

“Yeah that’s um... that’s true.” He stutters, his face going a bright red.

“Who are you exactly?” You ask bluntly, pulling off the mitts on your hands and grabbing your water bottle.

“Oh, I’m uh... I’m Peter. Interning for Mr Stark.” He explains nervously.

You squint at him, trying to figure out where you may recognize him from.

“He’s also Spider-Man.” Tony says as he passes by briskly.

“Mr Stark!” The boy groans, looking at him desperately. Tony merely shrugs as a response before being back on his way.

“Ok well I’m done here so I’ll be going.” You mutter, putting your fighting equipment back where you’d found it all. You grab the punching bag from the floor, hanging it back up with ease.

“I-I’m sorry? Is everything ok?” Peter asks, looking really confused.

You let out a sigh, finally looking over at him. “Look, you seem like an ok guy but the fact is, you’re one of the people who helped drive my dad out of the country so I’m not interested in making nice, alright?” You explain, walking around him towards the door.

“Don’t mind Capsicle junior, she’s/he’s/they’re hostile with everyone.” Tony says to Peter as he comes back into the room.

“Heard that.” You call over your shoulder.

“Not my fault it’s true.” Tony says with a shrug.

“Whatever tinman. If you talk to my dad anytime soon, can you just tell him how much a kid’s social life tanks when their parent is a wanted fugitive?” You ask as you pull one of your dads disguise caps over your hair.

You didn’t get to go on many missions and you never went undercover but you often used to take your dads hats when you were younger and he eventually just stopped protesting and let you take them as long as they were returned eventually. Now, it seemed they were all yours.

“If I talk to him, I’ll let him know.” He agrees.

“No, not if. When!” You correct.

You’d always been more optimistic than most but since your dad had fled the country, it’d become a rare sight which is why Tony was surprised at the statement.

“Alright, when.” He says with a small smile and you nod before making your way out the door, barely noticing the eyes on you the entire time.

—————————————————————

As a car pulled up to the curb outside your school, you raised a brow at the driver before getting in.

“Nat? I thought you were on another mission off in the world somewhere?” You ask as you buckle your seatbelt.

“I was but then someone dragged me back so there was someone to keep you out of trouble.” She says with a smile.

“I’m guessing Tinman is that someone?” You ask and you groan as she nods.

“You know what happened the last time he was gone. He came back to find you completely drunk after some party.” She shrugs and you sigh, watching out the window wordlessly.

“The last time he was gone, he was going after my dad.” You point out.

“I know you miss Steve y/n. But you have to try to control your anger. No one wants you ending up in one of those cells like Wanda, Sam and everyone else.” She explains.

“At least then I wouldn’t have to listen to people call my dad a criminal.” You fire back.

“Oh forgot to mention but there’s a teenage boy in the backseat.” Nat says casually and you whip your head around to see Peter.

“Nat! You couldn’t have said something when I got in?” You grumble.

She gives you a small shrug. “Figured you would’ve noticed. You ought to train with me more, you’ll be more attentive to detail.” She says.

“Of course. Will do.” You mutter sarcastically, cursing a bit under your breath.

“Hi!” Peter says quickly, obviously very nervous.

“...hi.” You say hesitantly, peering over the headrest to see him and ignoring the little bit of butterflies you feel unexpectedly in seeing him in normal everyday clothing instead of his suit.

“I uh... I’m Peter.” He says awkwardly.

You roll your eyes a bit, a lighthearted smile on your face. “Yeah, I remember. We met like a month ago I think.” You remind him, obviously amused.

“Right...” he sighs, clearly cursing himself quietly.

You’d seen Peter around a few times actually, at Stark industries events and around the Tower and such. You’d basically avoided the boy at every possible interaction, not wanting to be anywhere near him. You’d gone as far as avoiding the gym completely for over a week, worried he might go through there to get to Tony’s lab.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, you gaining the odd grin from Natasha when she sees you looking back at Peter in the mirror every now and then and you immediately avoiding the view afterwards.

It wasn’t as though you liked Peter. You couldn’t. It was a nearly impossible idea to even think of liking him. You didn’t know a single thing about him. You were still mad about everything that had gone on at the airport.

But you couldn’t say that he didn’t intrigue you. At least not without it being a flat out lie.

Once back to the tower, you quickly scramble out of the car, hiking your backpack over one shoulder as you rush into the building with your head down.

To your surprise, you hear the slapping of the bottom of shoes coming up behind you quickly.

“Sorry, I just... I- can we talk?” Peter asks, searching your eyes desperately for a way to read you or see at least a fragment of what you felt.

You could tell that’s what he was doing. It didn’t much affect you, having been trained to lie by Black Widow herself at a young age. You were quick to put up your defences at any sign of emotional situations which was why everyone resorted to calling you cold and distant. Especially since Steve was gone.

You nod, motioning wordlessly for him to go on.

“Well, I just uh... I just wanted to y’know, check on you. I um... I know our first meeting was a little... rough.” He explains and you sigh, relaxing your shoulders a bit to show a sign of less hostility.

“Look, I don’t hate you or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. I know being offered the opportunity to work with the great and mighty Tony Stark was probably too tempting to turn down.” You mutter sarcastically. “I’m just going through some stuff right now and you being the guy who basically almost got my dad caught isn’t helping matters.” You explain, running a tired hand through your y/h/c hair.

“Oh! That’s actually not what I meant. I can see why you’d not really like me right now.” He says with an awkward smile.

“So what are you talking about then?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, you’re a kid with superpowers for one. I can kind of relate to that.” He says with a laugh, making you smile a bit. “And your dad is captain America. That must be pretty cool.” He adds.

You laugh a bit, remembering bits and pieces of your moments with your dad. “Yeah... except when you get lectured for having detention by your dad in front of everyone at school.” You say playfully.

“Oh god, I forgot about that video.” Peter says, cracking up a bit.

“You don’t have a reason to hate it as much as me! I had to listen to it and then my dad lectured me about it when I got home. And so did aunt Nat, uncle Bucky and aunt Wanda.” You point out, your smile slightly faltering at the memories.

Peter is smiling but when he looks at you and notices the sad expression on your face, his smile falls even faster than yours had.

“Are... are you ok?” He asks hesitantly, head tilted in concern.

You sniffle a bit, annoyed at your sudden sign of weakness.

“I’m fine. I just... miss them.” You say with a shrug. You laugh awkwardly, wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. “I’m a mess, don’t worry I know.” You add.

“You have a reason to be though.” Peter assures you nervously.

You laugh, a bitter and off sound leaving your mouth.

“That’s not what people at school think. You’d be surprised at how fast people will literally boo you during gym class when your dad pops up in a video to explain simple health or weight training or whatever. Or how quick they’ll be to shun you. They all think I’m hiding him, harbouring a fugitive.” You mutter, staring down at Peters shoes to distract yourself.

You shake your head a bit, trying to clear your thoughts.

“My dad is off risking his life and he still protected me from everything that happened so far. The absolute least I can do is to stop being pathetic and moping about it.” You mumble with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose tiredly.

Without warning, Peters open palm is against your back, moving in soothing circles over and over. To your own surprise, you don’t flinch away from the contact. You instead choose to embrace it, taking deep breaths to keep yourself calm.

“Thank you.” You murmur as you feel him pulling you into his chest a bit. You hesitate for a moment but ultimately decide it’s alright for you to let your head fall onto his chest, almost nuzzling it into his shirt.

You can feel him tense up in surprise, almost pulling away awkwardly.

Immediately, you straighten your posture from your previously slouched figure, back on high alert and embarrassed by your show of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry. Basket case, I warned you.” You say quickly, forcing a laugh as you point an index finger at yourself.

“Er... yeah...” He stutters with a tight lipped smile, causing you to nervously bite your lip.

“Excuse me.” You sigh, running off into the gym again, leaving Peter standing alone in the hall. Or so he thought.

“Well that was... strange...” Tony says, watching the space you’d just left with a perplexed look on his face.

Peter jumped a little bit, immediately standing with near perfect posture.

“Yeah- Yeah very strange mr stark.” He agrees.

Tony looks at him with a cocky grin.

“Kid, do you even know what makes that whole interaction strange?” He questions, leaning against the doorframe.

“Well no-“ Peter begins quickly and Tony holds up a hand to stop him before he gets the chance to yammer any longer.

“Well underoos, it’s incredibly strange because not once have I ever seen junior be in any way vulnerable with anyone before. At least no one outside of the Avengers.” He explains. “And the first time I see it, it’s with you, who she/he/they knows absolutely nothing about.” He adds when he notices the look of pure confusion on Peters face.

“Well it might just be because I was here. Or because I was being nice or...” Peter begins rambling, looking for any valid reasons you may have looked for comfort from him of all people.

Tony stops listening after a while and when Peter finally stops to breath, he puts a hand on his shoulder calmly.

“Kid, she/he/they is right in there. And she/he/they isn’t just nice to anyone for no reason.” He begins slowly as though talking to a child. “Go ask her/him/them yourself.” He says, giving Peter a gentle shove towards the doors to the gym.

Hesitantly, Peter pushes the door open and slips through, gulping a bit as he walks in to find you in the same place you were when the two of you had met.

As he notices you turning around at the sound of his entrance, his nerves take over and he finds himself using his webs to jump up onto the ceiling.

“Hello? Someone there?” You call out uncertainly as you survey your surroundings.

Your fists are up as you cautiously take steps forward, looking around for any source of the noise.

After another few seconds of silence, you figure you were just hearing things and go bag to throwing agressive punches at the bag in front of you.

The feeling of a pair of eyes on you throws you off a bit, suspicions creeping up your spine. You spin around in a circle like a dog chasing their tail, your senses on high alert as you try and shake the feeling.

As you turn with an irritated groan back to the bag, Peter finally decides to reveal himself, dropping down from the ceiling and landing poorly right behind you, causing you to swing around swiftly, socking him in the jaw with your gloved fist.

“Ow.” He moans, putting a hand over his aching jaw.

Your hands immediately go to cup your mouth in shock as you see who it was.

“Shit! Don’t sneak up on someone like that, what the hell?!” You cry out, looking at him with wide eyes.

“I- sorry!” He says, starting to mumble a bit.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and groaning a bit.

“That was... sorry. That was fucking selfish of me.” You mutter. “Are you ok?” You ask, gently reaching over to examine his jaw.

“Fuck that’s gonna leave a mark. I’m sorry.” You say, trying to contain the laugh threatening to escape your lips.

“Don’t worry about it. I did kind of sneak up on you I uh... I guess.” He replies, laughing sheepishly.

“Yeah. Curse my damn reflexes I guess.” You say with a small grin.

“Junior, language!” Tony says in a mocking tone as he rushes past, clearly on his way to something important.

You scoff, raising an eyebrow at him. “Oh c’mon! That was one perk to my dad not being here.” You say dramatically, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

With the amount of sarcastic remarks and swears you uttered, many people would probably believe that you were Tony’s kid rather than Steve’s.

“Well sorry he asked me to look after you. Blame the old man, not me.” Tony says with a shrug.

“Of course he did.” You sigh but your eyes widen quickly as you look over at him, a light turning on in your brain. “When did he tell you that?” You ask hopefully, eyes baring into Tony at this point.

“Sometime last night? Oh and he said no s/o’s yet. Little late for that I think.” He says, suppressing a grin as he eyes a very red faced Peter.

“You-you talked to him?” You ask softly, too elated to notice the squirming Spider-Man beside you.

Tony nods and you grin.

“He’s ok?” You ask, blinking at him.

“He’s doing fine. Busy all around the world.” He confirms somewhat bitterly.

You were no stranger to the tension between them and somehow you knew that the last time they were physically near each other, it had gotten worse somehow. Still, you knew neither of them would ever break contact with the other for your own sake.

Ignoring the spiteful undertone, you jump around a bit excitedly.

Peter palms a snicker and you whip around, realizing he’s still there.

“My dad’s been gone for so long... I just...” you mutter, hardly noticing as Tony once again slips out of the room.

“It’s ok. I get it, if my parents were still around I’d probably feel the same.” Peter says, a lopsided smile on his face.

“It’s actually kind of... um.... kind of cute.” He admits, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck nervously.

Without thinking, you jump into his arms, nearly knocking him over as you hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” You breath into his ear, ignoring the internal alarms telling you to keep your guard up.

His mouth moves to speak but is quickly interrupted by yet another show of your boldness as you press your lips onto his, kissing him softly.

“I- I’m sorry? I don’t... I don’t know what that was.” You laugh nervously as you pull away, the adrenaline from the moment still pumping through you.

It turned out you’d taken a lot more of a liking to Peter than you’d initially fooled yourself into thinking you did.

“No! I-I mean-“ Peter exclaims, blushing furiously again. “I mean I kind of... I kind of wanted to do the same thing?” He sighs, looking up at you through his lashes.

You blink, your mouth opening and closing with no words coming out.

Before either of you can say much more, Nat walks into the gym and gives you a smug grin when she notices the proximity of your bodies to each other.

“Nat-“ You begin but she tuts her tongue to stop you.

“Your dad won’t find out as long as he also doesn’t find out that I helped Tony try and get you two together.” She offers, looking between the both of you again.

“Ok su- wait what?!” You cry, eyes once again widening in shock.

She grins again before walking out of the gym.

“I could kill them-“ you mutter and Peter places a hand on your shoulder.

“Or we could... er.... we could actually go out together? Like, on a... on a date?” He asks hopefully.

You smile softly, probably one of the first genuine smiles you’d had since your dad left.

“Sounds like a date. Pick me up from the foyer at the compound around six.” You grin, quickly pecking him on he cheek. “Oh, you might want to put some ice on that. I throw a pretty hard punch.” You add, pointing at his jaw and walking away, leaving the boy speechless and more smitten than he’d ever thought possible.

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appples · 4 years

Text

Oh, Cats (4/10)

pairing: Aizawa x Reader (OC)

genre/warning: 18+

words: 1535

summary: An average girl with a cat quirk starting over in a new city, as typical as usual. Until it’s not. You drop into someone’s life unannounced and not necessarily wanted.

Walking past the UA gates, you felt invincible. Since your confrontation with Aizawa, you launched into training in the evenings; self-confidence inflating rapidly. This was the first time you had left UA without hiding any of your features. Although you didn’t often go, if at all. Feeling like you don’t need to hide was still a very new sensation. People always looked as you walked by, but fewer than you remember pointed. It’s not often cat feature quirks manifest in this particular way. The heavier cat-like influence was more common, resulting in realistic heads of paws.

Out of all the things you could have missed the most, it was merely sounds of everyday life. People were so happy and oblivious to what heroes had to do to protect them. Without a plan, you wander the streets. Meandering in back alleys, meeting some local cats. Hours passed before you knew it and started to look at going home. Abruptly a bad feeling washed over you as you stood still. Unaware until now, there had been a coordinated effort to try and funnel you to a specific location where you currently were. How could I be so naïve to think this wouldn’t happen? People don’t change. Looking around and surveying the area gave you a brief advantage. You saw something racing towards you on the ground and jumped to the side. As you jumped, you saw it was a tentacle; aware, there must be a second coming soon. It wrapped itself around your ankle and pulled you backward, you tried slashing at it, but it made no difference. Knocked down, you try to break free. Another man emerged from the shadows holding his hands forward in front of himself. Nets eject from his fingertips, ensnaring you further. Finally, the third accomplice appeared, pleased with the finished task.

“Bind her hands, watch she doesn’t scratch you” the three men laughed above you. The tentacle began to move its way up to your legs, searching for something.

“No, stop! Please stop!” you were trying to kick at the tentacle with your free leg, but it only continued to rise. Inching closer and closer to your underwear, snatching at them in attempts to pull them down. There was a swift thick, wet sound. You looked down at the tipoffs, the tentacle still hanging on to your panties, now detached from the arm it belonged to.

“Ahh, what the fuck, man?! That was my fucking arm!” The tentacle man was screaming over his loss.

“It’ll grow back.” Aizawa emerged from the shadows. Unfazed, he practically danced in front of you. Releasing his capture weapon, he sent it around the man's throat with the net finger quirk, then another around the third man. Aizawa crossed his arms over, sending the two men crashing into each other. Having wounded the last man already, Aizawa bound him with the capture weapon. You were still on the ground when he walked up to you, standing up, avoiding his gaze.

“T-thank you.” You squeaked. “I was in a little over my head.”

“What the fuck happened” he snapped at you. Until this point, you had never actually seen Aizawa angry. You thought you did but had now been shown how incorrect you were.

“I just wanted some time away from UA, a -and they followed me” your words shook as a response to the ordeal you had just been through.

“If you can’t protect yourself, maybe you shouldn’t be leaving campus. What if a student saw you and decided today they were going to be the hero? What if they were hurt or killed?” Staring at the ground, you bit your tongue in an attempt not to cry.

“Did you even think of that?” He had moved closer. His shouts grew louder and more accusatory in tone. “Did you?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t give a fuck, how sorry you are.” He paused and collected his thoughts, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stepping back from you as he realized how close he had gotten. “If you can’t take care of yourself off-campus, then maybe you shouldn’t be teaching,” his words stung like the tears in your eyes. You knew he was right, as much as you hated to admit it. You were too weak to keep yourself safe, so why should you have any agency over students. You’re supposed to be protecting them, not the other way around.

“Just go back to campus. I will take these guys in and leave you out of the incident report. Neither you nor the school needs the extra attention right now.” You nodded your head and turned to leave, digging your claws into your fists as you stiffly held them by your sides.

Aizawa watched you leave before returning his attention to the task at hand. He hadn’t realized how furious he was with you at first, and it caught him off guard. It wasn’t logical. But how could you be so careless, had your time at UA really taught you nothing? What if he hadn’t shown up or showed up too late? The thought made him sick to his stomach. There were reasons why he didn’t have close relations with most people in his life. Aizawa always tried to maintain enough distance between the two of you, but it didn’t seem to be making any difference. He still refused to admit to himself how much he cared about you, instead following the safe route and shutting you out.

To get ready for the workweek, you had come up with responses to just about any question someone could ask about the injury’s leftover. Most of the noticeable abrasions you were easily able to hide under clothing. Unfortunately, some around your neck and face were a little trickier. Your colleagues left you alone for the most part, merely asking how you were g. It gave the impression that these sorts of things operate on don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Once the initial discomfort went away, you were left with your classes with Aizawa. You would have just about traded for anything else right now. Neither of you went out of your way to speak to the other, interacting as minimally together as possible. Thankfully it did provide some reprieve. At the end of one of your shared afternoon blocks, you had to turn over some marking you had completed, making eye contact as you place them on his desk. He stared up at you. Tired would be an understatement; he looked exhausted. Eyes redder than usual, and his facial had was longer than you had ever seen him let it go. Ripping your hands away from the paper, your fingers yearned to reach out and touch him, but you turned towards the door and left before your heart could overrule your mind. Despite having walked away from Aizawa, you could see your last conversation with him on replay.

“What if a student saw you and decided today, they were going to be the hero. What if they were hurt or killed?”

“If you can’t take care of yourself off-campus, then maybe you shouldn’t be teaching.”

Could you have had made the wrong decision when taking this job? What were the students even gaining from you being there? Sitting back down at your desk, you start to seriously consider quitting your job. Brows furrowed deep in distress. After turning your computer on, you make quick work to find a resignation template. Writing it made you feel good, like you were in power, that this was your decision to make. Finishing it, you read it over. It kind of felt like you were running away. This wasn’t supposed to be about you. It was for the students. Your feelings for the final decision should take second priority.

Forging on, you sent the document to the printer, waiting for the finished product. Holding it in your hands made it feel much more real, heavier. Sighing, you lean on the nearest desk. Something rustled as you leaned up. Without realizing it, you had sat at Aizawa’s desk. It was full of papers with coffee ring stains and empty jelly drink containers—a reminder of his bad habit you had picked up. You hated cooking, and the supplement drinks weren’t the worst. Aizawa knew what these kids needed better than anyone. And he spoke the truth about your lack of self-reliance and ability being a hindrance to them. It started to feel like your head might burst. You had been thinking about this so hard over the last few days. Is it okay to continue believing that I add value to their education, something because of who I am and cannot be replaced with someone else? With another sigh, you look up at the ceiling, lights screaming at you. But what was really bothering you, what were you avoiding?

Of course, it was Shouta. You wish you could take back how you felt, gather it all together in your arms and pull it back in. Sometimes it bordered on hating how you felt. Giving someone that much power and influence over yourself only ever ended in anguish. Then what do you do? How do you continue to move forwards and push past these obstacles? What is it that I can’t stop myself from falling for? Could it be something I’m searching for and missing in myself?

Your eyes closed as you stood up from the desk. Opening them, you walked back over to your desk and began to open your bag.

“I think there should be…Aha!” you withdrew two jelly pouches. Assessing the flavors, you chose your preference and placing the other on Aizawa’s desk, separate from the empties. The poor guy really did need to talk better care of himself. At least you seem to hold that advantage. Feeling a little more optimistic, realizing that Aizawa was also human. He didn’t have everything covered all the time. You left work for the day reviewing and reanalyzing everything you had just thought about.

#my hero academia #bnha #mha #fanfic #fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #aizawa x reader #aizawa x oc #smut #angst and smut #angst #mha smut #bnha smut #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta

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senacal · 4 years

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Dr. Charles Xavier (Part 3)

Request: Continuation of @saltysebastianstan request.

Pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem Reader

Prompt: Charles and (Y/N) go out for coffee and (Y/N) has some realizations.

Part 1 , Part 2

Warnings: Fluff

Author’s Note: I honestly don’t know how long I want this series to be so bare with me 😬 and Sorry this took so long to get out, I had a little bit of writers block and of course my dear friend, no motivation.

Requests Are Open!

(Not my gif)

It had been a while since Charles had felt any type of stress, sure he had been anxious recently. Who wouldn’t be anxious talking to a large group of college kids? College students could be blunt, cynical, judgmental, and assholes. Thankfully he hadn’t met many of them, the majority of the college kids who did attend his lectures either kept to themselves or ignored him altogether, it was the best possible scenario. That is until he met (Y/N). When he had stepped onto the stage that afternoon, he hadn’t thought he’d meet someone so invested in his work. While he was trying to place whose voice he was hearing, Charles made sure to answer the questions and fit it into his lecture at the same time. After all, he didn’t want to get caught. Although no one would suspect that he was a telepath, they ha no reason to.

Somehow he knew the person behind the voice didn’t have any ill intent involving his work. How could they? Their questions were precise and specific to a field of study that couldn’t lead to a point of danger, or Charles had convinced himself that no one would use his knowledge for evil, but that was a fear he liked to ignore. Charles preferred to have a more optimistic outlook towards others because it was much more easing to think the best of someone than constantly worry about getting screwed over. But Charles could have never imagined someone as magnificent as (Y/N).

(Y/N) was pure in mind and spirit. The benefit of Charles’s gift (other than the obvious) was his ability to sense a person’s intent. (Y/N) had raised good points when she asked why he would trust her, she didn’t know how his powers worked. How could she? She wasn’t a mutant, but that was why Charles wanted to help her. She was actively trying to understand mutants so that she could help them. Her sincerity was one of the reasons he was drawn to her, the others, well, she had an interest in his work. Most girls he spoke with were merely attracted to him because of his looks and accent, he didn’t hold it against them. He might have used those traits to pick up women before, but this time it was different. Not only was (Y/N) persistent that she didn’t like him in any other aspect than a professional relationship, she had an interest in his studies. No one had taken an interest in his work before, at least no one he was interested in dating.

Of course, that was a moot point in the end because as he reminded himself before, their relationship was purely professional. (Y/N) wasn’t interested in him… But for a moment he could have sworn she was interested. He wished he could peek inside her mind to figure out what she thought of him, but he promised no to invade her privacy and he would keep that promise damn it. He just wished it wasn’t so frustrating. Charles was used to reading people’s minds without hesitation. It was a part of him so it was rather hard to suppress. He made a point to keep out of his friend’s minds, but he didn’t have many friends so it wasn’t too hard to remind himself. Perhaps somewhere down the line (Y/N) could become his friend if not, girlfriend.

“Professional, Charles. Stay professional,” He muttered to himself for what seemed like the hundredth time. He didn’t know what it was about her that made his thoughts keep drifting towards wanting a relationship with her, but she managed to enrapture him. It was quite frustrating, and if he was honest, stressful. That’s why he was standing in front of his full-length mirror trying to tame his hair that refused to cooperate with him. Of all days, it chose now not to stay in position. For fucks sake, he wasn’t asking for much, all he wanted was to groom it like the way he had it last night when (Y/N) seemed to take interest in his hair. That wasn’t too much to ask right?

Charles huffed when a strand kept popping up. He had hoped not to add too much product because then his hair wouldn’t be as soft, but it looked like he’d have to.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve seen you fuss over your hair as much as you are now. And that’s saying something,” Raven commented. She had her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe of Charles’s bedroom.

“Very funny, Raven,” Charles grumbled. He dragged his comb through his hair one more time. He narrowed his eyes at the offending strand of hair.

“Why don’t you just reapply that hair product thing you use? What is it, Vitals?” Raven shrugged.

“I’m trying not to overdo it,” Charles flattened the strand with his hand, which worked for a second until it sprung back up. “Maybe I’ll just start all over. Nothing is working.” He tossed his comb onto his dresser with a sigh of defeat.

“Here,” Raven approached him. She licked her hand and slid it over the strand.

“Raven!” Charles pushed her hand away, “Don’t be gross!”

“Don’t be such a baby, it worked!” She defended.

Charles checked himself in the mirror once more and frowned. It did work, but at the cost of having Raven’s saliva smeared on his hair. “What time is it? I think I’ll just shower again.” He checked his watch.

“That’s why I came up here, it’s 11:30, doesn’t your date start at noon?” Raven sat on Charles’s bed, bouncing in her seat, “Why is your mattress more comfortable than mine?”

“Shit. It’s not a date, but yes. I’ve got to get going, uh,” Charles patted his pockets for his keys.

“They’re on your dresser, genius. How you survive without me, I’ll never know,” Raven stood from her seat and pat Charles cheek as she passed him by, “Don’t forget your notes.”

Charles grabbed his keys before he grabbed his briefcase. He thankfully had the brain to pack what he needed the night before. Raven might have told him to do it, but that’s not the point.

Charles rushed to grab his coat, “Okay, Raven. I’ll be back, don’t wait up!” He yelled as he rushed out the door. He checked his watch once more and cursed. If traffic was as horrible as it was the day before, then he’d be a little late. If he could expand his mind and communicate that to (Y/N) he would. He didn’t want to disappoint her so early in their relationship. Professional relationship.

_______________________________________

(Y/N) sat in a booth at the coffee shop she and Charles had agreed to meet at. She glanced at the clock on the wall and tapped the pads of her fingers against the table. He still had another five minutes before he was late, why was she stressing? (Y/N) sighed and picked up her cup of coffee. Maybe it was the caffeine. She shrugged and took another drink anyway. It helped her headache, believe it or not, if only it didn’t worsen her anxiety.

“Would you like anything else?” A waitress asked once again.

Since (Y/N) had been there, which was only ten minutes now, the same waitress kept checking on her. Maybe she thought she was being stood up.

“I’m okay, maybe once my friend gets here. Thank you,” She paused to look at her name-tag, “Mindy,” (Y/N) dismissed with a kind smile.

“Alright, sugar, just let me know,” Mindy smiled kindly and left her once more.

Maybe this was all crazy. Charles didn’t have to show up. He was a busy man and possibly had other people vying for his help and attention. Why should he show up to help (Y/N)? She was just some college kid he met because some girl wouldn’t leave him alone. They weren’t even supposed to meet. (Y/N) looked up at the clock again. Another three minutes till he’d be late.

Yeah, who was she kidding? (Y/N) drank the last of her coffee. This was crazy. It was ridiculous. Why would she think anything he said was serious. He had so much better things to do than teach her about mutants and mutations.

“Sorry, I’m late, love. Traffic was horrendous,” Charles panted. He plopped down in the seat across from her with an apologetic smile.

“You came,” (Y/N) smiled despite herself.

“Of curse I came,” Charles smiled back, he decided then that he’d do all he could to see her smile more often.

“Right, uh, did you want anything? I was just about to order another cup of coffee,” (Y/N) waved her hand hoping to catch Mindy’s attention.

“Uh sure,” Charles set his briefcase next to him.

Once Mindy came to their table, (Y/N) ordered her new cup of coffee and a chocolate chip muffin.

“And for you handsome?” Mindy asked.

“I’ll have the same thing, thank you,” Charles smiled.

“Coming right up,” Mindy winked at (Y/N).

Charles laughed and tapped the table, “In case you’re wondering, she was thinking how lucky you were for having such a handsome date,” He teased.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Don’t know if I should trust your word or not.”

“You can trust me,” Charles chuckled. He leaned back in his seat, “I’m a very trustworthy person.”

“Everyone thinks they’re trustworthy,” (Y/N) quipped.

“That’s true I suppose, but I know you know that you can trust me.” Charles shrugged.

“What happened to not reading my mind?” (Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t have to read your mind to know that,” Charles grabbed his briefcase and set it on the table, “Now, I brought the notes I thought would interest you more, though I do need to know more about your thesis or the thoughts you had.” Charles opened his case and took out his stacks of notes.

“Okay, where should I begin?” (Y/N) relaxed in her seat. She could talk business; it was easier for her, and her mind would be on her thesis and not how handsome Charles truly was. Mindy had been right because Charles was dressed nicely, but he might dress like that regularly. Plus his hair was combed to perfection, and he wasn’t hard on the eyes either.

“First, why have you taken an interest in my work? Maybe from there, we can figure out your intent.”

“Okay, When I was seven or eight years old, my parents wanted to go to the Fourth of July parade. When we were there, there was this man, I never learned his name. At first, I thought maybe he was drunk or something, but then I noticed he was injured. When I looked away for a second and then looked back at him, it was like he was magically healed. I could have been seeing things, but then someone bumped into him and he had these claws extend from his knuckles,” (Y/N) looked down at the table in thought, “At first it scared me, but then they retracted almost instantly and it was as if they weren’t there anymore. I think someone was looking for him because a group of soldiers came running in. Everyone thought they were a part of the parade, but I could tell there was something different about them. Anyway, the man tried his best to get away unseen. I don’t know what happened to him after that though. I never saw him again,” (Y/N) looked back up at Charles, “I just remember feeling sad because if anyone else had seen him, I knew something bad would have happened to him. Since then, I’ve wanted to find out anything I could so I could help any mutants who need it.”

Charles nodded, “You’ve come to the right person then,” He shuffled through his notes, “You said you’re majoring in medicine too, correct?”

Mindy came by with their order, placing napkins down in front of them.

“Thank you, Mindy,” (Y/N) smiled gratefully, “Yeah, my family wasn’t too happy that I wanted to study mutations. They said I was wasting my time,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Sadly, most people will think studying mutations is a waste. I’ve had the same comments when I was in graduate school,” Charles sipped his coffee and hummed appreciatively. “In a way, the second major you have can benefit you.”

“Yeah, I was actually thinking of maybe becoming an obstetrician if the whole mutation study didn’t pan out? I might have a soft spot for babies,” She picked a piece of muffin off and popped it into her mouth.

“You could still do that,” Charles smiled, “I have some great notes on mutant pregnancy, and I’m sure mutants will feel safer with an obstetrician who is accepting of them versus a doctor who won’t understand them.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, “I hadn’t thought of that,” She grabbed the notebook she brought with her and flipped it open, “Okay, so now I know where I’m headed. Time to teach me some new things, professor,” She grinned. She couldn’t remember feeling this excited before. Okay, that was an obvious lie, but still. It was always a great feeling to have.

Charles hadn’t realized how much time had gone by while he was discussing his teachings with (Y/N). Whenever she was confused or had a comment she would speak up so she could get clarification. She was engaged in their discussion which was refreshing especially since no one has ever been this intrigued in what he had to say when it came to Charles’s work. Raven usually spaced out or pressed his nose and said “snooze.” It got annoying really fast, but he supposed Raven thought the same when he talked about his work.

“Okay, so the potentiality of a human-human couple is slim, but not impossible? What would that mean for me? If we can’t identify that the baby is a mutant, would they be examined by a regular obstetrician?”

“In that case, yes. Unless you were assigned them as your patient there wouldn’t be much for you to do. As you said, there are no tests that will let us know if their child will have the X-gene. It’s best to play it safe in that instance. You can always assist if need be, but for this purpose, we’ll have your thesis focus on identified mutant mothers or fathers. We’ll leave the human couples alone unless specified.” Charles shuffled his papers around so he could continue to keep them in order, but still have access to the next page of notes.

“I hope I’m not being rude by asking, but… your parents, did they have the X-gene?” (Y/N) asked curiously.

“I suppose my father might have, though I couldn’t ask him to verify,” Charles looked up to meet (Y/N)’s eyes, “he passed when I was ten. He didn’t give any indication to him being a mutant though.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” (Y/N) spoke softly.

“It’s quite alright, it happened a long time ago,” He ran his hand through his hair, “I do know for sure that my mother didn’t have the X-gene. Perhaps I was just special,” He teased to deflect from the topic of his family. That was something he wasn’t too keen on sharing. Only Raven knew about his family and that was only because she had come into his life while they were both still so young.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “keep telling yourself that Charles,” She smiled slightly but hid it behind her coffee cup. Throughout their talk, Charles would crack jokes as often as he could. It was refreshing and welcomed considering they were working.

“What about you?” Charles asked.

“Not so special,” (Y/N) shrugged, “Human parents, human friends, human me.”

“That doesn’t mean that you aren’t special,” Charles tenderly said. He knew for a fact that she was special. She presented it in the way she spoke about her interests and how she spoke to others even if she didn’t find them very charming. She tried her best to treat everyone she met with kindness and that in and of itself was the most special thing about her. She didn’t talk down to people and she knew what she wanted. Charles knew that he wanted her but because of her strong morals, that wouldn’t happen.

“You’re very charming, I bet that comes in handy,” (Y/N) deflected his compliment

“Oh it has its benefits,” Charles agreed.

Instead of doing more work for (Y/N)‘ s work, she and Charles spoke casually about their lives. It was kind of comforting talking to Charles because things seemed to come easy. They talked about their childhoods and their families. (Y/N) found out how long Raven and Charles had known each other, and Charles found out how long (Y/N) had known her best friend. It was almost surprising how comfortable she felt with Charles. Just the other day she was hesitant to even be his friend, but now that she got to know him and some of his quirks, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier. Charles was funny in a witty way, he was beyond intelligent, he was a gentleman, and there was never a dull conversation with him. It helped that (Y/N) took an interest in his work.

“It’s gotten quite late,” Charles glanced at his watch, “I hope I didn’t keep you from anything?”

“Nah, (F/N) probably would have just dragged me to another party by now,” (Y/N) gathered her things together, “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“It’s no problem, really. Perhaps we can meet at my home next time? I’m sure Raven would like to get to know you better. Also, it’d probably be cozier.”

(Y/N) bit her lip in thought. What could be the harm, right? She liked Charles, and after a while, her butt did start to hurt sitting in the booth. “Yeah, that’d be nice actually.”

“Wonderful, I’ll uh- did you need a lift?” He offered, hesitant to leave her alone.

“It’s okay, I don’t live too far, remember?” (Y/N) tried to brush him off. She didn’t want to burden him with anything else. After all, he was helping her with her work.

“You’d get home faster if I gave you a ride,” Charles insisted.

“Alright, I’ll let you drive me home then,” (Y/N) agreed.

Together they walked out of the coffee shop to Charles’s car. Once again Charles proved to be a gentleman when he opened both the store and car doors for (Y/N). She thanked him when he was in the car. (Y/N) should have known better than to doubt Charles’s sense of direction and memory. She’d have to remember that he was powerful in his mind. Rather than being afraid of him, it only made him that much more interesting to her. (Y/N) glanced at Charles while he drove. He looked comfortable and confident in his position. (Y/N)’s heart nearly skipped a beat watching him do an everyday activity.

‘I told myself I wouldn’t get wrapped up in his charms,’ She scolded herself.

______________________________________________________________

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#Charles Xavier #charles xavier x reader #professor x #professor x x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #charles xavier x fem reader #x-men x fem reader #professor x x fem reader #james mcavoy

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zalrb · 3 years

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hi! same anon from before, hahah. first of all thank u so much for answering - i'm a big steve mcqueen fan too and i was wondering if you were ever interested in reviewing your favourite mcqueen movies? a few words for each kinda thing. i love your movie reviews because way more often than not, i find myself agreeing with you and you seem to find the exact right words. of course, it's merely a request you don't *have* to take seriously.i hope u have a great day!

OK so here is my list, starting from favourite to least favourite. The only feature film of his that I haven’t seen is Hunger.

What I will say are general Steve McQueen characteristics that I like about all of the movies is the fact that his films require patience and attention. If I’m tired or not really in the mood to devote my focus but I want to watch something, I’m not putting on a Steve McQueen film. I want to be fully present. His work demands that. I appreciate that.

I have also come to respect that there are what you would consider holes in his movies. Like we don’t really know anything about Brandon’s backstory in Shame, we know his sister says that they come from a bad place but we don’t know what that place is and the movie doesn’t find it necessary to divulge that information. Widows has a lot of loose ends that a typical heist movie may at least attempt to sort out but I don’t think McQueen really concerns himself with those details, he concerns himself with the emotional present and he concerns himself with the present to such an intimate and almost unbearable degree that it can make you flinch and cringe as a viewer because it’s uncomfortable to kind of stew in emotional truth like that, it’s uncomfortable to stew in the present that way.

There is an artistry and a poetry to his movies, it reminds me of paintings and I can say without irony or without being corny or without being pretentious, that these movies really do examine the human condition, do deep dives into emotion or deep dives into emotions that a particular event or issue would bring about.

1. Lovers Rock

I love this movie for so many different reasons. It means so much to me as a woman of Jamaican descent to see an ode to Caribbean party culture in the diaspora

and even though it’s in London and even though it was in the 80s, there is so much overlap in Canada, it was basically like a spiritual experience watching this movie and on twitter, there was so much outpour of gratitude and feeling seen by Caribbean Canadians, it was like a whole moment, so this movie makes me super emotional.

Like this scene, where they yell “Jah!” “Rastafari!” it got me in my chest and I had never experienced feeling so seen in film before because it’s specifically Caribbean, in this case Jamaican, and what I usually see is African American or movies from the Continent and this was diasporic and it was Caribbean

But what I also love about it is that even though it takes place over one night, it’s a love story between two young dark-skinned Black people and it’s handled with the kind of grace and beauty and weight that I like in my love stories, like it’s not Atonement, it’s not POTC, but it’s this culturally specific courting and coming together and it’s super sweet and just very nice

2. Alex Wheatle

There is this scene in this movie that is excruciating to me in its simplicity and it’s one of McQueen’s techniques or choices. So this installation in Small Axe is about Alex Wheatle who is an author and in the beginning we see his life in an orphanage and how he’s abused and ridiculed and how as a child he would be thrown in a room for hours just lying on his side

Then we get to him as an adult and we see the way the police harass Black youth and they take Alex throw him in the back of their van and he’s bloodied and beaten and he’s just lying on his side for hours. And I cried because that callback to his childhood was so brutal to me even though we don’t see excessive violence onscreen, it was just him lying on his side like when he was a kid and how systems upon systems are failing him and failing Black children, Black people and I didn’t need that spelled out for me, I just needed to see him lying on his side for minutes. And that’s kind of the power of McQueen’s directing/storytelling to me?

Another reason I really like Alex Wheatle - and the Small Axe anthology as a whole - is showcasing Black history in other countries

and it’s a great story about identity and figuring out your history, your roots, where you come from and how it informs you

3. 12 Years A Slave

I didn’t know if I was going to watch 12 Years A Slave or not, I kind of make it a point not to watch movies about enslavement now and I haven’t seen a movie about enslavement since (I did watch the show Underground though). What I love about this movie is how it examines the human condition, how it examines resilience, how it examines the soul, really, through many of the characters but particularly Solomon. It’s that unflinching portrayal of emotion and the present that really stuck out to me. And also again some of McQueen’s choices, like when they’re on the slave ship, for a lot of it we don’t see inside, we see the rudders

but that inspired such dread in me? We see the trees a lot.

We see the setting. We see the environment and that just adds a whole other layer, Lupita Nyong’o spoke about that when filming, about just thinking about the trees and what they witnessed. But I watched it, I didn’t cry until the third act then I wouldn’t stop crying then I pulled myself together and a week later, my roommate was playing it in her room and I could hear it and I was trying to write for workshop and it was just the score that I could hear and I got so emotional I had to ask her to put her earphones in so I could work.

4. Education

This installment of Small Axe was again an educational one for me (pun intended) because I know the ways in which the education system in my country and in my province and in my city fail Black children and I know enough about how that happens in the States, I didn’t know so much about how it happened in England and this was very illuminating for me without it taking on the tone of a docu. There is this scene that is just so uncomfortable to watch because it’s long and it’s boring and it’s irritating and that’s exactly what you’re supposed to feel because you’re supposed to feel exactly what the characters would feel in those moments:

Education also has a scene where we hear an entire song, but it’s deliberately not fun, when the teacher torments all the kids with his acoustic version of “House of the Rising Sun.” Why that song? That happened with me!

Oh my god. The teacher brought in his guitar, and he started to strum. We’re this captive audience. That was it. But it’s interesting, about that sequence. Because it’s funny, and then it gets irritating, and then you get bored. You have to go through boredom to get to the other side of it, and then you get to something else. And then there’s another understanding of it. So it had to play out that way, in real time.

and you know by the end, the movie explores how to engage children, how to encourage children, how to advocate for children and the different ways you can educate children so it’s an optimistic movie and I appreciated that

5. Widows

My second best experience at TIFF (Toronto International Film Festival) was watching Widows. TIFF screenings tend to be very quiet. But there’s a scene in Widows where after the protagonists (four women) do the work and get the money, Daniel Kaluuya watches them, holds them at gunpoint and takes the money, then leaves in his car. Then you’re with him in this car and he’s feeling good about himself and he’s laughing and he’s listening to this speech his brother makes then you see another car gain on him, run into him and it’s the protagonists and they take their money back and the entire theatre cheered and clapped and it was awesome. And that is the type of “girl power” scenes I like that aren’t “girl power” scenes? Where it’s just this man thought he could take what he wanted from these women and leave and they were like ummmmmmm?

I would say Widows is McQueen’s most commercial movie and it still doesn’t read very commercial and unfortunately Liam Neeson is in it but again I like the choices he made, I like that when Colin Farrell’s character is going on this racist rant in his car, we see the exterior of the car with his dialogue as a voiceover.

I like how controlled and tight the direction is and how throughout the movie I was on the edge of my seat in a different way, I was just tense until it was all over. It was also interesting watching his direction with Gillian Flynn’s screenplay interact with each other.

I had issues with this movie, mainly one moment which is when Alice, who is white, slaps Veronica (Viola Davis) -- Veronica slaps Alice first but Alice is a character who has been abused and who has been controlled by the men in her life, by her mother and she’s finding independence and so she exerts that by slapping Veronica back and I just thought there were other ways to show that.

6. Red, White and Blue

Another installment of Small Axe. My first husband stars in it and won a GG for it

and has this gem in it

It’s a good representation of what it looks like trying to right a system from the inside, since this is about Leroy Logan who became a police officer and ended up policing the neighbourhood he grew up in and how he was trying to be a positive change in the environment and in the police force and the racism he experienced as an officer

7. Mangrove

The first installment of Small Axe. To be quite honest I wanted to like Mangrove more than I did. It’s Steve McQueen so it’s a good movie, although the accents had some Trini people I know be like mmmmmmmmmmmmno, and again it’s also an educational movie because you learn about the Mangrove restaurant which was a Caribbean restaurant and hub for the community and for artists and authors and the police saw it as a threat so they constantly harassed the costumers and did raids and did everything in their power to shut it down.

And there are some great lines in this movie, I was most compelled when it became a courtroom drama, because that was some masterful directing

8. Shame

Shame was definitely uncomfortable for me to watch haha and it’s interesting because there were reviews that were like the title doesn’t match what we see because are we really expected to believe that the protagonist feels shame when we see him in New York having anonymous sex with [conventionally] attractive strangers and he has awkward moments with his sister and I was just like ............ if there’s anything McQueen is able to do is show how mechanical and compulsive Brandon’s sexual conquests are and his inability to actually connect because once he does he becomes impotent and pushes Marrianne away, his life is sterile and unfulfilling

so, I don’t know, some of the reviews had me like, what movie were you watching?

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earthfluuke · 4 years

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welcome to part 3! i’m very excited about this one, so i hope you all enjoy it!

just a reminder: i based some parts of the nymphs off of the nymphs from greek mythology, but for the most part, they are whatever i made them up to be.

parts: 1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3

Sarawat has the entire town fooled, but Earn is smarter. She knows her best friend, knows when there’s something he’s hiding. Finding resources and deciding if the land is stable enough to move in on doesn’t take this long. Weeks have gone by; enough is enough.

It should surprise her to find Sarawat entangled with a boy adorned in flowers, eyes taking over his face when he catches a glimpse of her. And it should surprise her even more when she finds herself chasing after them when they dart down the opposite side of the hill to the banks of the river. But neither can compare to the slack jaw, awe struck shock she feels when she sees her.

Ankle deep in the water, the girl stands proud. Back straight, arms stretched to her sides, her palms lay flat, fingers spread with the threat of forming another wave. Her brown eyes hold fear when they bore into Sarawat but morph to protective when they flicker to the flower-draped boy. Sun light reflects off the pink and gold scales that outline her cheeks and round over the curve of her temple.

To anyone else who happened to be blessed by her presence would consider her mystical, magical, otherworldly. But the only word that comes to Earn’s mind is beautiful.

Everything around her – Sarawat, the flower boy, the forest in front of them and the field behind – disappears, and there’s nowhere to look but at her. Her desire to go forward is just as strong as her need to pull herself back. Potential of scaring her off keeps her grounded, and all she can do is watch her through the hazy, golden halo her mind – or is it her heart? – has set around her.

Sarawat breaks her free. Hands shaking her arms, he begs her, pleads her, to keep what she’s seen to herself, to not under any circumstances tell anyone else in town, to please, for him.

“Who is she?” she hears herself asking between his cries. She looks over his shoulder towards the girl. She’s calmer now, at ease, as she takes the boy’s – the one she can only assume belongs to Sarawat – hands into her own. Her softened features send Earn’s heart into double time.

“I don’t know,” Sarawat answers quickly before he goes back to his frenzy. “But, Earn. Please. For me. For him. Tine; his name is Tine. Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just please. Please.”

She finally looks to her best friend, and she cannot remember a time he’s looked more serious, more scared. His fingers dig into her, but they shake at the same time. This boy must be special, if he can turn Sarawat to this.

“I won’t tell,” she finally swears and accepts the bone crushing hug she’s pulled into.

…

A condition comes with her promise. Not because she needs anything to maintain her secrecy but rather because she’s desperate.

She follows after Sarawat and parts ways with him at the apple tree. Canvas in her satchel, easel strung over her back, she sets her makeshift studio out along the banks of the river. Cups of paint circled around her, she picks out a brush and loses herself to her art.

She starts with the bases – the pale blue sky, the dark green grass, the teal river she shades to appear crystal. Fluffs of clouds and sharp tree branches follow. Final touches in the forms of a cluster of cattails growing at the edges of the river and the lily pads floating atop it near complete the painting. But there’s one thing missing.

Every so often, she lifts up her brush to glance at the river, pay close attention to it to catch bright eyes or mirrored scales. Luck comes to her just as the sun sets. When she goes to switch brushes, she spots her, the girl from the river, the beautiful mystery, the one thing missing from her painting.

Eyes peeking over the surface of the water, they watch her. She doesn’t raise up any further, but Earn has what she’s come for. It’s a rush job to add her into the painting, but she can’t contain her excitement.

She tip-toes towards the river as to not scare her. She bends, bends, bends over until the tip of her nose is a mere breath from the girl’s forehead. Only then does she duck away, quick movement startling Earn face first into the river.

She watches from beneath the water as the girl disappears downstream. The current that follows her carries one word to her ear: Pear.

…

Her mistake isn’t one she intends to make again, and it comes with consequences. For the next week, there is no sign of Pear. Earn remains optimistic, continues to believe that she will return when she once again feels safe. But by the seventh day, she’s beginning to grow discouraged.

She waits until the sky turns a golden orange, pink sprouting out from the setting sun, to add it to her painting. It’s the same scene she’s been painting for days, but this one is brighter, a burst of color against the familiar neutrals she now paints like they are second nature.

Sudden water droplets drip onto her pant leg, and her head is whipping to the side before she can stop herself. She’s met with a cheek covered in pink and gold scales, and now that she’s close enough, she takes note of how they also dip down her neck.

Pear isn’t looking at her, gaze instead set on her painting. Earn doesn’t dare move, barely lets herself breathe, as she steps closer. Her foot – also covered in scales that dissolve up over the outside of her calf – hits a cup filled with pink paint.

Picking it up, she dips in a webbed finger. It comes out the same color as the paint, the same color as her scales, and in one last surge of curiosity, she presses it to the very center of the canvas.

She looks both surprised and terrified to see that she’s left her mark on something that isn’t hers. Taking a step back, she’s ready to bolt within seconds. But Earn doesn’t give her the chance.

Quickly covering her own finger in red paint, she places her fingerprint next to the one Pear left. Turning to her, Earn offers her a soft smile, one that reaches her eyes and tells her everything is just fine. Pear returns it, and she feels a small flame warm her heart.

It only grows when she dips her finger back into the paint and decorates the entire frame. By the time she’s filled half the canvas, she motions to Earn’s hand. Too afraid to make the wrong move and send her hiding back in the depths of the river, she stays still. With an unsatisfied huff, Pear takes it upon herself to lift her hand and press her paint covered finger back onto the painting.

The feel of her hand wrapping around her wrist engulfs Earn’s chest with fire, and she burns. Her insides are impossibly hot from a single touch, and it worries her to think of what anything more could do to her.

She cools herself down by littering red fingerprints in the spaces between Pear’s pink ones. By the time they’re done, the image beneath is unrecognizable. And yet it’s the most wonderful painting Earn has ever made.

…

“You look happy,” Sarawat comments as they journey back to town.

“Maybe I am,” she says, readjusting the canvas in her arms. Stroking over the raised bits of paint, only just dry, she hugs it close to her. The distance between her and Pear dulls the flame in her chest, but it sparks at the thought of having this small piece of her. “I don’t think I really knew what happy was until today.”

…

Two canvases are heavy, but the extra weight is a small price to pay for her to see Pear waiting for her in the grass beside the river.

Setting up the extra easel, Earn gifts her with her own set of brushes. Lips pursed and eyebrows arched, she holds the brushes in the flat of her palm, running a tip through the bristles and watching them bounce back in intrigue. This innocent curiosity along with the tiny gasp she gives all but melts Earn into the ground below.

It’s trying to get the brushes to fit between the webbing in Pear’s fingers, but their attempts are finally met with success. “You can paint whatever you like,” Earn tells her, timid and gentle, nerves of scaring Pear away still bubbled high in her stomach. “There are lots of colors to choose from, see?”

Uncapping each cup, she offers Pear the pink. Familiarity hits her, and her smile outshines the sun. She’s off from there, and Earn should be as well. But each time she turns to her canvas, she’s drawn to the one beauty her art can never replicate.

Pear’s strokes are calculated, careful. And yet her wrist bends just so, loose and at ease, languid lines bleeding over the page. She’s very much the river she resides in; the calm stream flows freely, quiet and serene. But then there’s a wave, a crash against the banks, whenever she makes a mistake. Suddenly, she’ll still, wait, and Earn prepares for the flood that never comes. She breathes deep, exhales slow, and returns to tranquility.

The end product isn’t much more than a collection of lines with the occasional stray fingerprint. But it’s Pear, and for that, it is everything.

…

“What shall we paint today?” Earn asks, back to Pear as she adjusts the canvas along the ridge of the easel. Having watched Earn’s creations, Pear had become less keen on the abstract of her lines and wanted something more realistic. They’d begun with flowers, moved up to small frogs that politely sat still when Pear asked them to, advanced with the forest of trees on the opposite side of the river. Any mistake Pear makes is met with kind reassurance, a helping hand atop hers that guides the brush the correct way, a smile that she eventually returns.

Brushing off her hands on her pants, she turns to meet a held out hand. She accepts it easily, because of course she does. It fits nicely in her own, even around the webbing, and she dares a stroke of her thumb over the scales that cover her knuckles. They’re cool and smooth and unlike anything else she’s ever felt.

There’s a light tug, a shake of her arm, and it calls Earn’s attention upwards, to Pear’s pretty face and desperate eyes. They’re endless, large enough to hold oceans, captivate Earn to the point of no return. Only when Pear squeezes her hand does she break away to ask, “You want to paint me?”

The nod she gives is shy but firm. She’s head set despite her concerns, and Earn is in no position to deny her. She allows her to position her how she wants, tries and ultimately fails to keep her breath even when Pear pushes her every which way until she’s satisfied.

Behind the easel, she’s focused, pinched brows and scrunched nose taking over her features. Earn truly does her very best to maintain her far off gaze, but she cannot help but be magnetized back to Pear. Art is creating art before her; not staring is futile.

Time passes too slow and yet too fast, and Pear is shifting from foot to foot with her bottom lip between her teeth. Seeing her brush set aside, Earn gets up and circles around to the opposite side of the canvas.

Altogether, it’s a messy attempt. Edges are jagged, colors blur together. But there are lighter brown highlights that show the sun reflecting off her hair and curved lines etched into the center of her lips. Small details that Earn has only mentioned in passing decorate her portrait, and it sets her ablaze once more. The hopeful glances Pear gives her, hands clasped together in front of her chest, do little to extinguish it. This girl will char her to a pile of ash, but if her way to go is by the slope of her smile and the hesitant flush to her cheeks, then by all means, take her.

“It’s lovely,” she says. Her shoulders sag in relief, and Earn takes the opportunity to grab her hands once more. “I’ll have to find a frame for it. It’ll look so nice in my room.”

Smile widening across her cheeks, Pear pulls herself closer, giggling high and sweet, jingling bells sounding through her ears and heart. Earn lets their arms drop, dangle between them as her head tips forward. There’s still a space between them, but it’s enough. Especially when Pear doesn’t back away.

…

Guitar strings strum behind them, and they draw Pear from her canvas. Gaze up the hill, she’s distracted long enough for Earn to notice.

Setting down her brush, she swivels to look up towards the apple tree, towards where the notes are drifting from. “You want to listen to the music?” she asks. “We can; I’m sure Wat wouldn’t mind a bigger audience.”

She’s tugged backwards just as she moves forward. Both of her wrists are caught, and suddenly she’s being swung around the field, twirled around and around and around. It’s dizzying, and her vision kaleidoscopes; she can make out colors, patterns, but not much else. Catching a flash of Pear’s face, her wide smile, she’s serenaded by the giggles she gives as they fall into an unled dance.

Time passes, the song changes, but they still move together – in, out, back, forth. And then she’s falling, crashing into the shallow end of the river, water beneath her and Pear atop. She catches her by the shoulders, holds her up, and when the shock wears off, she realizes this is the closest they’ve been.

It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once. She wants to stay, try for more, test the figurative and literal water with her. But there are boundaries, hurdles, stepping stones they have yet to get past, over, around; barreling forward head on will only get her hurt.

She’s held down as she goes to sit up, and she dares a glance. Wide eyes are hard to read, but at the very corner, small enough to miss, there is that ferocity Earn saw the very first day she’d spotted her. There is fear and pause, but along with that is passion, the very thing that keeps her strong and steady.

That passion drives her forward. Hand cupping the side of her head, Earn fits her fingers below her ear, threads them through her hair. Chin tipping up, still not daring a full lurch, her eyes flicker to Pear’s lips and there’s an intense want, an unquenchable need.

Patience dwindling, fire growing, she inches further. And that seems to be enough. Fists in her shirt collar, eyes on hers until they finally shut, Pear closes the gap Earn is too afraid to.

Every sense bursts to life at once. Scents of damp grass, river water with a touch of floral; sounds of dragonflies buzzing by and a familiar tune taught to her by the elders in the village floating from the top of the hill; touches of brown tendrils brushing across her cheeks as their heads tilt, soft skin and hard scales contrasting beneath her palms; tastes of apples and finally and yes; and the sight of the most beautiful girl, most beautiful creature, most beautiful anything that graces this very earth flushing pink and dipping her head when they pull apart.

Her fluster doesn’t deter her far. She lets herself be held, and Earn’s heart, spirit, soul soars far from her body. No more spaces between, no more hesitations. She pulls her back, waits for the slow sigh Pear gives against her lips before she deepens.

The fire roars on, and slowly the embers turn to ash.

…

Her return is met with a tangle of limbs and lips against her ear. Stepping back to steady herself, her hands come to rest upon the curve of Pear’s spine, fingers dancing up and down the ridges.

“Hello,” she breathes through a laugh, tilting up her chin when Pear nudges beneath it. “I’m sorry I haven’t come for a few days; my parents needed my help around the house. But I snuck a few of the tarts my mother made into my bag. Will that make up for it?”

Pear doesn’t go for her bag, for the treats. She instead goes for her mouth, bleeds relief and happiness and I missed you into it. Hands pressing against her waist, pushing their torsos closer, she turns to her jaw, her cheek, her nose, to brush all of her emotions there as well.

Earn lets her, soaks in every second. Only when she pulls back, gives a satisfied giggle, does she return the affection. Butterfly kisses flutter about her skin, followed by the whispers of longing and the promise of it will never happen again.

It has only been a few days, but the effect is strong. Paint brushes untouched, canvases downturned, her inspiration had fallen from her, dropped over a cliff into the abyss. Here – grass blades tickling her ankles, the coolness of scales beneath her fingertips, her beautiful nymph in her arms – her imagination bursts to life; it spills back into her. And as she rests her forehead against Pear’s temple, she cannot help but think the muse never left. It has only been waiting for her to return to it, for now it resides here. In this meadow, by the lake, with Pear.

…

Knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder. Not even a breath of air can pass between them, not with how close they’re sitting. Pear’s forearm pressing heat into hers, they look out towards the water. Sun shining down, the ripples crystalize under the light.

Earn turns to the nymph at her side. She’s blinded by the reflection of her scales and wonder of how someone like her – so astonishingly, mind-bogglingly perfect – can exist; and alongside that, how she has the pleasure of existing with her.

Fingers finding the root of a long stem beside her, she plucks upwards. A water lily – jasmine pearl, white petals fading to purple – fills her palm, and she goes to tuck it behind Pear’s ear.

Reaching to touch it, eyes questioning as they look to her, Pear doesn’t even realize how very fitting the scene is. The flower is her twin: a delicate, gorgeous bloom that captivates anyone who stumbles upon it, making it impossible to look anywhere else. It’s breathtaking. It’s stunning. It’s her.

“I can’t make you a flower crown,” she admits. Pushing back some of her hair that dares to fall over the flower, she offers her a smile. “But you deserve to get flowers as beautiful as you are from someone who loves you.”

Distance closing, she whispers, breath fanning against Pear’s lips, “And I’d like to be that someone.”

Earn sees a smile stretch across her face before her eyes shut fully and their lips come together. There are so many things to feel all at once. Love, desire, a raging fire. But more than anything else, happiness spreads through her, bursting wide like the flower behind Pear’s ear. Happiness, she thinks as their hands come to hold each other. This is it.

#2gether #2gether the series #earnpear #earn x pear #2gether fanfic #my writing #nymph!tine au #but now also #nymph!pear au

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arotechno · 4 years

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The Heartless: Chapter 14

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Chapter XIV: in which the truth comes out

For the first few weeks, whenever I would try to bring up the nearly eight years that stretched between us, Basil would go tense in his shoulders and quickly change the subject to something more mundane, like if I was feeling okay or what we were going to have for supper. He’d talk me in circles about life in the commune and the array of people who lived there, or reminisce on our early years when we’d play made-up games all day and sit speaking in hushed tones about our single shared secret by night—but the moment the conversation drifted too close to that fateful day or the many years that followed, Basil was quick to shut it all down.

I grew tired of the run-around late one afternoon, as I sat at Frida’s dining table watching Basil flit aimlessly around the kitchen, looking for something to occupy his hands in an effort to avoid confronting me.

“Basil, we have to talk about what happened.”

For the briefest of moments, Basil froze, before he resumed rummaging through the kitchen cabinets in search of nothing in particular. He said nothing in response.

“I told you everything,” I pointed out. “This isn’t fair.”

Basil turned and glared at me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I quickly swallowed my frustration. “How do you expect to bridge the gap between us, then? Did you just expect us to pick up where we left off? If you’re hiding something from me to protect me, don’t bother. I’m not a child and it’s not your job, as my friend, to try to shield me from horrors I know plenty about myself.”

“Fine.” Basil pulled out the chair across from mine and dropped into it roughly. I didn’t miss the wince when he sat down. “If you really want to know what happened, then I’ll tell you.”

“And I’m happy to listen,” I replied with what I hoped was a reassuring tone.

Basil breathed deeply and looked out somewhere into the middle distance. Then, he began, “Well, you remember the last time we saw each other. Eventually, I managed to scramble away. I don’t remember if someone intervened or if I just found an opening, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. I took off running into the woods, as best as I could with a broken leg, and I guess I ended up running in the opposite direction you did.” Basil snorted, though it wasn’t really funny.

“I didn’t stop running until the adrenaline wore off and I could barely move,” he continued. “I pressed onward, though, for a couple weeks. I had no sense of where I was headed or if anyone would ever find me, but I was afraid of what would happen if I went back. I barely ate, drank, or slept that entire time. Those were the most terrifying nights of my life, wondering if I would die out there. Eventually, though, I was found by some folks from Verdigris out hunting, and they carried me unconscious to Frida’s house. I guess that’s why I started taking walks into the woods from time to time as I got older; never thought I’d actually find anyone, though, until I found you. Carried you pretty far until I managed to find help.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? At first, I wouldn’t let anyone near me. If they tried to touch me, I’d start screaming. Frida was the first person I warmed up to, and after I was back on my feet she took me on as an apprentice. But in a way, the entire commune raised me. They all took me in as one of their own, this terrified kid they found in the woods, and I think they’d have done the same even if I wasn’t Heartless. In spite of everything that happened, I was lucky. I guess even us cursed folks get lucky sometimes, don’t we?”

Basil slid his gaze over to meet my eyes and smiled earnestly in spite of his words. I immediately felt a pang of guilt, and Basil must have noticed it in my face, because he quirked an eyebrow at me and let the smile drop into a frown.

“Basil, there’s something I didn’t tell you,” I whispered, biting my bottom lip. “It’s about the curse.”

As expected, my words sucked the air out of the room. An unnerving silence stretched across the kitchen table, threatening to widen the gap between us that we had only just begun to mend. But peculiarly, the look that passed across Basil’s face was not one of surprise or trepidation, but of something akin to shame, a sort of conflicted expression that took the confession from my lips and painted it across his own.

Before I could open my mouth, Basil stood up abruptly from the table and moved to stand by the kitchen counter so that I could not see his face. He leaned forward with his arms outstretched and palms pressed against the counter’s edge.

“You’re going to tell me it’s not real, aren’t you?” he asked, so quietly I could barely hear him.

“Something tells me I don’t have to,” I responded.

Basil said nothing. Instead, he merely bowed his head.

“How long have you known?” I demanded, keeping my voice low.

“I’ve known for years,” he admitted. “Everyone here does. I was afraid to tell you.”

My mouth went dry. Several seconds passed in tense silence; Basil still wouldn’t turn to meet my eyes.

“So you’re telling me,” I finally spoke, pausing as I tried to gather my suddenly spiraling thoughts into something coherent, “that you all know about this, and yet you let your own people suffer under those lies?”

Basil whirled around to face me, expression darkening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Why doesn’t anyone come back for us? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

The usual warmth in Basil’s eyes flared into raging fire.

“Why didn’t I come back for you?” he snapped. “I just spelled out every horror of my life for you—at your behest, might I add—and you have the nerve to think I should have come back for you? You wouldn’t have been there anyway!”

“But all these years, I thought we were monsters—”

“What does it change?” Basil shouted, throwing his arms wide in exasperation.

I swallowed my rebuttal, and his statement rang through the empty house for what felt like ages in the resulting silence. After a few moments, Basil shook his head and reached for his cane, and I realized belatedly that his hands were trembling.

“Gods above, Ace, this is why I didn’t want to talk about this. Try again when you’re mature enough to listen.”

With that, Basil disappeared outside, the back kitchen door slamming shut behind him. I stood up to go after him, but a firm hand came down on my shoulder, lowering me back into my seat. I swiveled to see Frida standing behind me, a somber expression on her face.

“He won’t go far, just give him some space,” she reassured me, already bustling about the kitchen as if she’d been waiting for our impromptu meeting to adjourn so she could go about her business.

“Were you eavesdropping?” I questioned. She nodded. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” was all Frida said. “Now, I’ll fix us all something to eat, you just stay there and calm yourself down.”

Startled, I looked down and realized my own hands had been shaking too, in plain view out on the tabletop. I quickly hid them from sight, pressing them between my knees to try and stop their anxious jittering. As Frida set to work lighting the stove, I allowed myself to consider what Basil had said, and a cold, heavy feeling settled into my chest.

By all accounts, I was a murderer, even if King Brutus had deserved it. I was also a thief, even if it was only for my own survival and even if it made me no different from someone like Knife Boy. I had left behind Petra, Bertrand and the others without so much as a thank you. And now, I had even hurt my best friend, the first person who had ever truly understood me, and potentially driven a permanent stake through our already complicated relationship. Would any of that have really been different, had I known the truth all along?

Eventually, Frida slid a bowl of hot soup in front of me and waited for me to take a few sips before starting in on her own portion.

“As you might imagine, all of this is a very sore subject for Basil. I don’t like to make him talk about it,” she told me, though it didn’t strike me as a reprimand. “He’s a very mature and optimistic young man. I think sometimes that causes me to forget he has seen as much hardship as many of the rest of us, and perhaps more so, given his young age.”

“He was the same way when we were young,” I responded, eyes downcast into my soup. “I looked up to him, I think, because he seemed so much more sure of himself than I was. I think a part of me always believed he was unshakeable, even up until the end. But I now realize how childish I have been for thinking that way.”

Frida hummed in response, and we remained silent for the duration of our meal. When I had finished, she peered out the kitchen window and tutted in disapproval before disappearing into the other room and coming back with Basil’s cloak draped over her arm.

“Here, why don’t you go bring this to him, and see if he’ll come back in to eat?” Frida suggested, passing the garment off to me. “I don’t want him catching a cold.”

I found Basil sitting cross-legged in the tall grass beside the house, cane sitting discarded at his side. He was flitting between staring at his hands in his lap and gazing out at the rest of the commune. I was cautious to approach, almost feeling like I was intruding on some kind of private moment. Basil jumped when I draped his cloak over his shoulders but quickly sobered up and turned away again when he realized who was suddenly dropping down next to him.

“Are you here to apologize?” he muttered when I was silent for a moment.

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Basil,” I said softly. “It was unfair of me to attack you like that. I was being insensitive.”

Basil shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I shouldn’t have pressured you to talk in the first place,” I insisted. “But if you don’t want me to push it, I’ll leave it be.”

He shook his head. “No, I appreciate the apology.” Basil pulled his cloak tighter around himself. “What you don’t understand is that nobody here wants to go out into the world and draw attention to ourselves. Even if I thought I could, I wouldn’t want to. That’s the very thing that got me—both of us—hurt before.”

I began yanking blades of grass from the dirt absentmindedly. “Why would someone fabricate such a cruel lie?”

Basil didn’t have to guess what I was talking about.

“People fear things they can’t understand, Ace.”

“But how could anyone believe it?”

“We did.”

My breath caught in my throat. “That… That’s different! We were only eight—we were victims!”

“Maybe so, but either way you and I both still believed it.”

“I’m still trying to make sense of this. This whole time, it’s just been a convenient lie for the higher ups?” I cried, finally turning to look at Basil. He was frowning at me, eyes sullen and brow furrowed deeply.

“You’re living proof of that yourself,” he pointed out. “If the Heartless were really dangerous monsters, then why haven’t the royal guard taken out your entire village?”

I didn’t answer.

“It’s easier for them to blame some arcane curse and cast us aside to flounder on our own than it is to challenge everything they think it means to be human. Bigotry is for cowards.”

“That’s it? It’s really been that simple all along?”

“The cruelest explanation is usually the simplest one.” Basil sighed.

We both fell quiet, but this time the silence was a comfortable one, not so unnerving as it had been in the house. After a few minutes, I remembered the soup waiting for Basil on the stove and nudged his knee with my elbow.

“Do you want to come in and have supper?” I asked when he looked at me quizzically. “Frida has soup waiting for you.”

Basil shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“I know, but you should try to eat something,” I urged. “Just a little. What do you say?”

Finally, Basil nodded, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly. It wasn’t much, but I could see the faintest glimmer return to his eyes. I let Basil use my shoulder as leverage to push himself back to his feet, and we headed back into the house side by side, as equals for the first time in years, if ever at all. And though we said nothing, I felt as if we came to understand each other for the first time all over again.

#the heartless #aro #aromantic #aro writing #aro writers #aro creators #aro creatives #aspec #aspec writing #aspec writers #aspec creators #aspec creatives #writing #writeblr #op

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skeletorific · 4 years

Text

CLASSPECTING TIME

You have no idea how fucking long this took. Also I’m willing to like hear ideas about this but as these are my personal headcanons don’t be like….weird about it ahfdksafd classes are FAKE AF and we are all just guessing bitches out here.

Ardata Carmia: Maid of Doom. A Maid is typically understood as “one who creates [aspect]/creates though [aspect]” for the benefit of others. The Doom aspect represents death, suffering, misery and destruction, something Ardata quite literally serves up on a silver platter for her subscribers. She creates (relatively) low stakes of misery for her subscribers to watch and enjoy, as well as to feed her lusus’ hunger for blood. Despite the apparent selfish motivations, its clear that Ardata doesn’t really enjoy what she does. At least, not for its own sake. Its a means to fulfill the role she believes society demands of her, even if filling it makes her actively miserable and very, very lonely.

Diemen Xicasi: Page of Hope. A page is typically understood as one who “provides [aspect]/provides through [aspect]” for themselves. While his meal of choice may be some savory meat products, Diemen’s real bread and butter is his unwavering optimism. Not to say he’s always looking on the bright side, merely that he allows the miserable realities of being a homeless rustblood on Alternia to wash off his back. Like other pages that have proceeded him (Tavros Nitram and Jake English), Diemen has been noted to have an effect on people that makes them want to help him, without any apparent psiionic tricks to force it out of them. Furthermore, when he really wishes for something (and its usually hot dogs), well, things have a way of working out in his favor, no matter the twists and turns it takes to get there.

Amisia Erdehn: Heir of Mind. I’m gonna be honest, Amisia was tricky. Mind doesn’t on first glance seem like a natural fit for her. However, while there’s a variety of definitions for what an Heir does, I prefer the description of the Heir as someone who strives (or succeeds) to wholly embody their aspect. As such, Amisia is the pure embodiment of both Mind’s decisive problem solving and single-minded logical framework. Need paints? Well, blood is multicolored. Actual creation is difficult, yes, but when it comes to getting the right materials, well, there’s no one more driven and no one less deterred by mere sentiment. This isn’t to say she’s emotionless, merely that emotions are often an obstruction to her true potential, rather than an aid.

Cirava Hermod: Prince of Hope. Awful dark class for such a chill motherfucker, but like most things about Cirava, it makes far, far more sense in context. Hope is about convictions, about right and wrong, about doing what your internal code compels you towards. And, there was a time when Cirava felt like this. They would constantly get into fights on Chittr with highbloods, despite knowing it was risky, because they felt it was wrong to take credit for their work. However, the Prince is ultimately one who bring about destruction through/destruction of their aspect. Cirava certainly brings about destruction in a physical sense: they destroy their eye in order to prevent injustice. Likewise, they take the time to try and destroy their own connections to the hopeful aspect, attempting to kill off their morals and content themselves with keeping their head down and quietly streaming.

Skylla Koriga: Knight of Time. While Time is perhaps the aspect most bound up in the mechanics of Sburb/Sgrub, its ultimately defined by a determination to triumph despite the odds. In Skylla’s case, like Dave Strider, that desire is tempered by a sense that what she does should be for the sake of others. Skylla is one of the most selfless trolls we encounter, expressing generosity and kindness to a stranger even at her own personal costs and even expressing confusion when others (like Konyyl) are not so kind. Skylla, while she may slip into despair when the situation is pulled beyond her control, ultimately refuses to take anything lying down that she can fight against.

Bronya Ursama: Sylph of Breath. The typical verb applied to a Sylph is “one who heals through/heals their aspect” for the sake of others. In general, I prefer the verb “restores”, as it has a broader application. However, in Bronya’s case, that healing is for the most part literal. Breath is the aspect of freedom and individuality, which seems an odd choice for the rules-oriented Bronya. However, by looking at the people in her life it begins to snap into greater clarity. Bronya may restrain herself, but her presence provides freedom to so many characters: she gives the reject wrigglers a chance at new life even when the culling system would condemn them to death. The other jades are allowed the freedom to explore themselves and the world around them because, on some level, they know Bronya will protect them from consequences as much as she can. Bronya does not serve freedom or necessarily provide it wholecloth, but she restores it to others who would have it taken from them otherwise.

Tagora Gorjek: Thief of Space. Space is hard. Like time, its an aspect very bound up in the mechanics of Sburb. How Kanaya describes it, as concerned with propagation, didn’t seem to have much to do with a guy who doesn’t seem concerned with much more than the propagation of his own wealth. This is part of why Thief felt natural for Tagora: “one who steals/steals through their aspect” for themselves. However, as we’ve seen from Meenah and Vriska, while the motives of a Thief may often be selfish, it doesn’t mean that they are necessarily harmful to the party. The Thief will take the most direct path to getting what they want, but if what they want is the good of the party, then they make powerful allies. Space heroes, like Tagora, are creative and very aware of the way they go through the world. Tagora is environmentally aware, which is part of what makes him an effective legislacerator (and an effective con artist).

Vikare Ratite: Mage of Mind. The Mage, like the Seer, is bound up in knowledge about their aspect. However, they are often cursed by either an excess of or severe shortage of their aspect. Vikare, arguably, suffers from both an excess AND a shortage of Mind. On the one hand, atmospheric flight a logical first step before interstellar flight, and the fact that Alternia didn’t take that step is in fact, pretty fucking wild if you consider it. Vikare suffers by being (apparently) the only one aware of this level of absurdity. However, in other respects, Vikare is cursed by a lack of Mind when it comes to decisive action. Rather than actively pursuing his desires, he hides them behind an apparent embrace of his true role, and eventually has to have flight “forced” on him for him to truly enjoy it.

Polypa Goezee: Rogue of Breath. Polypa here can be seen to be stealing her aspect in two regards. One, she is literally stealing “breath”, or life (not to be confused with Life GODS ASPECTS ARE HARD) from her targets. Two, she is in some sense stealing their movement and independence, in particular from highbloods, who are not used to the fear of death impeding their choices in the way it impedes the lowblood. However, unlike the Thief, Polypa steals for the sake of others, whether it be working as a hired killer, getting vengeance for her lost lusus, or protecting her friends from the uncomfortable truths that would force them to act against their true wishes (as with Tegiri).

Zebruh Codakk: Heir of Doom. One who invites misery and despair wherever they go. Definitely sounds like how it feels when Zebruh walks in a room. Jokes aside, Zebruh is drawn to situations of misery and destruction (e.g., his attraction towards lowbloods) out of some latent sense that he can exploit it. If the Heir is someone who reaps the benefits of their aspect, then Zebruh certainly fits the bill. Likewise, the world is affected when the Heir is finally allowed to “Become” their aspect. Easily one of the endings most literal about it being a “doomed” timeline is Marvus’ bad ending; notably, its also the only ending where Zebruh dies. When Zebruh finally fulfills the promise of doom, the entire timeline goes down with him. That is very possibly some powerful godtier commentary.

Elwurd: Witch of Hope. One who changes their aspect/changes through their aspect. Elwurd doesn’t believe in shit if she doesn’t want to, and if she wants to believe something then damn it if she won’t make it true. She commits herself consistently to relationships that she knows are a bad idea under the presumption that she can change them. You can’t ever properly convince her that she’s not hung up on her relationship with Bronya. In the end, the only one who can change Elwurd is Elwurd.

Kuprum Maxlol: Knight of Hope. optimistic Duelist has a good video already on the topic and while I disagree with their classpecting for Folkyl ultimately I don’t really feel the need to add much onto it. Suffice to say, Kuprum defies fate for another person. Rather than let voidrot run its course, Kuprum volunteers himself as a battery for his moirail. While its perhaps a short sighted plan, its one that stems wholly from Kuprum’s belief in his ability to make a difference, if not for society at large, at least for one person.

Folykl Darane: Seer of Void. One who is wholly in sync with their aspect, in full understanding of it. Folykl is entirely aligned with the nothingness and emptiness associated with Void, being quite literally denied vision, power, and even the ability to ambulate on her own. Likewise, though, she has a clarity of vision in the metaphorical sense. She accurately assesses both Kuprum’s feelings towards Trizza and Trizza’s worthiness of those feelings, emblematic of Void’s disdain for a comfortable lie. However, true to the passive nature of her class, while she often chastises Kuprum for his feelings she isn’t ultimately willing to do more than bicker about it.

Remele Namaaq: Page of Space. Initially I thought we might end up with two Thieves of Space, but what important to note is that whle Remele does steal artwork, theft isn’t necessarily her true nature. At her core, she’s an artist that has been forced to become cynical because of the society she lives in. Sburb roles aren’t just meant to embody you. Often they’re meant to challenge you. As such, her more derivative works can be seen less as the final fulfillment of her role and more the beta stage of her coming into her aspect. While it may not show in her artwork yet, Remele demonstrates a great potential for on the spot creative thinking that could potentially be bolstered into a powerful force in its own right. Likewise, like Diemen she demonstrates the Page’s intuitive ability to get people to aid her in her quest, regardless of whether or not its in their own best interests

Konyyl Okimaw: Prince of Light (because gendered classes are FAKE NEWS). One who destroys/destroys through their aspect. Light is associated with both fortune and knowledge, and Konyyl can be seen destroying (and destroying through) both. Her matesprit, Azdaja, is the Mind aspect: he supplies knowledge to Konyyl, who in turn uses that knowledge to destroy the lives of others. Likewise, she’s heavily resistant to doing the thinking for herself, seeming to intuitively sense its not her role. She’s also a bit on the unlucky side (I mean, what are the odds of an adult troll being there at that exact drop off point) but can destroy the luck of others. By killing them. Worst luck ever. Also she’d look cute in the puffy pants don’t tell me otherwise.

Tyzias Entykk: Page of Blood (damn there’s a lot of pages in here its almost like most of these characters have yet to come to their true potential or something). While its not always the case (Jake English being a notable exception, to my mind), Pages may often start the game with a deficit of their aspect. Tyzias has a deficit of friendships. She mentions she doesn’t have time for any quadrant but her matesprit, who is arguably the only troll on Alternia more overworked than she is. Beyond that, her social circle is restricted to people she meets in class. Despite this, Tyzias has a unique capacity to reach out to other people, which, once tapped into her, makes her a force to reckon with, especially so far as the empire is concerned.

Chixie Roixmr: Witch of Mind. GODS Chixie was so hard. However, what ultimately unlocked it for me was the rap battle. A witch is one who manipulates/manipulates through their aspect. Chixie, for as sweet as she is, is a pretty effective manipulator. She keeps Zebruh on the hook without getting forced into a quadrant with him, she manages to sway the crowd into her favor (despite the fact that no one in their right mind should be siding with a bronzeblood in a highblood owned club), she even manages to get the Reader to act in her favor on certain occasions. She does this through clear, decisive action, and through careful combinations of absorbed information, all of which come to a head in the rap battle. Despite potentially risking everything she’s worked to build, she forces herself onto that stage and, under pressure, synthesizes everything she knows about the band from social media and her own encounters with them into some pretty sick lyrics.

Azdaja Knelax: Thief of Mind. Azdaja, as previously mentioned, is the information half of Konyyl’s duo. Utilizing powerful psiionics, a quick grasp of strategy, and a willingness to do whatever it takes (all of which can be understood as part of the Mind aspect), Azdaja manipulates scenarios into ones that will directly benefit him. Often, he quite garners literal monetary gain, but equally as powerful for him is the added notoriety his actions gain him.

Chahut Maenad: Knight of Hope. No title more fitting for a defender of the faith. Chahut has strong convictions that run to the core of her being, something vital to a Hope player. However, while her convictions may render her single minded, they do not necessarily render her selfless. When the player does not antagonize her morals Chahut seems happy to benefit them (although most players would probably not view being a sacrifice as a benefit). She is happy to learn at the feet of people who have earned her respect, and defend those like Amisia who she considers worth protecting, all of which render her an apt candidate for the Knight category.

Zebede Tongva: Heir of Light. One who embodies their aspect, often perhaps to the point of excess. Zebede is many things, but he is certainly knowledgeable, in particular about his interests. At times, that interest can be cute, but at other times it can lead him towards creepy and possessive behavior. He knows everything about Cirava, to the point that he feels comfortable posting fanfiction about their life. Likewise, he displays frustration and anger when he is not allowed knowledge (or, in a meta sense, is denied union with his aspect), as in hs bad end when the Reader implies they are talking to other people while at Zebede’s house. Zebede, though his method of expression isn’t the healthiest, at his purest form is really just curious about the lives of the people he watches, and allows that curiosity to overcome him.

Tegiri Kalbur: Rogue of Void. If Tegiri embodies anything to me, its how much the temperament of a person affects their expression of their classpect. On first glance he and Roxy Lalonde have nothing in common. However, like Roxy, Tegiri has the ability to “steal” nothingness by replacing it with something else. He replaces it with order, imposing laws whether otherwise no sane troll would think to enforce them. By doing so, he’s not only stealing away the chaos associated with the Void, but also the sense of meaninglessness he might otherwise succumb to if he ceased to believe in Alternian law (much like a few other teals I could mention). Also like Roxy, Tegiri seems troubled by the sense that he may be irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, and becomes determined to impress his status as a hero of the blade upon us as quickly as possible.

Mallek Adalov: Witch of Time. Ok this one’s a little weird, but hear me out: a Witch, inherently, is about a refusal to accept your aspect as it is. Mallek demonstrates an understanding of the lacking nature of Time. With his Rites of Maturation perigrees away, he has a hard time coming to terms with how little time he has to do everything he wants to do. This might imply a Mage or a Seer, but what strikes me is not that Mallek wants to understand time, but that he is frustrated with his inability to do anything about it. We aren’t really told what he does after his conversation with the reader, but it can perhaps be assumed that, inspired by their words, he is doing what he has to to give himself the time he needed. Were an sgrub session to take place, he would be given the literal chance to do just that.

Lynera Skalbi: Maid of Rage. Again, whipping through an unusual class combo. The Maid is one who creates their aspect, for the benefit of others. Rage is not just about anger (although Lynera certainly has that in spades), but about convictions and truth. Lynera creates her truth and beliefs, and makes them in alignment to the people that matter to her. When she understands that keeping under the radar of Alternian society is important to Bronya, she becomes the bad cop needed to enforce those convictions. When she understands her making other friends is important to the Reader (and to Bronya), she immediately latches onto them as her nearest and dearest friendship. Ultimately we never see Lynera at a healthy place with her aspect, but she’s a dedicated soldier, ready to evangelize (or, create convictions) on behalf of the people in her life to matter to her.

Galekh Xigisi: Seer of Blood. The Seer is of course, associated with understanding. However, its important that unlike the Mage, one who already understands and suffers from it, the Seer is rather one who invites understanding. They may have a large knowledge base already as regards their aspect (a la Terezi with Mind) but are constantly on the hunt for more to the benefit of their party. Galekh, while he can be pompous and uptight, at his very core wants to understand people, and the people who matter to those he cares about especially. He is one of the few trolls to approach us with the explicit intent of forming a relationship (and deepening an existing one with Tagora). That wordiness and sense of self-righteousness likewise aligns him with our other known Seer of Blood, Kankri Vantas, although Galekh has arguably gotten more of a chance to mature than Kankri got.

Tirona Kasund: Thief of Heart. Tirona seeks to override the convictions, and by extension the “soul”, of others, whether by force or by persuasion. Her memeaganda is one branch of this, ingratiating the Heiress to people in a way that will make them forget the various ways in she has harmed her. Likewise, she goes rooting through the offices of their friends to dig up details about their personal opinions and politics in order to expose them for her own gain. Heart Players really can’t catch a break outside of Boldir huh. Speaking of…

Boldir Lamati: Muse of Heart. Unusual, I know, but then, she’s an unusual lady. Not much is known about the muse class, given that our only Muse is Calliope. Typically, the verb that I would assign to the Muse is “inspires” or “unifies”, as a contrast to the Lord’s “command” or “dominates”. Boldir’s strong unity of the self would likely explain how she demonstrates an uncanny awareness over the strange time activities. She is, arguably, on the verge of becoming her ultimate self. Likewise, simply by being around her the reader becomes deeply aware of their alternate selves. However, unlikely Dirk’s existential dread in the face of his splinters, Boldir inspires that peace and independence unique to the Muse class which allows her to transcend the division of self so often toxic to Heart Players.

Stelsa Sezyat: Knight of Blood. Together with Galekh, they’re two halves of a whole Signless kin. Knights defend their aspect and defend through their aspect. In the case of relationships, Stelsa does both. She is a loyal and caring friend, always on call for both the Reader and her matesprit Tyzias even when she disagrees with their actions. Likewise, Stelsa’s strongest asset, in addition to her boundless energy and organizational talent, is her capacity for networking. More so than perhaps any other troll, Stelsa understands that the key to victory sometimes isn’t what you can do, but who you know. In the event she goes godtier, though, the first thing she’s doing is ditching the hood. Not subjecting her hair to that, no sir.

Marsti Houtek: Heir of Void (side note, Inherit Nothing by phemieC may have been written for Equius but it is a jam and a half and kind of snaps this class into greater perspective for me). Like every troll on Alternia, Marsti has been forced most of her life to confront her limited options under the hemocaste system. True to her nature as a Void player, she seemed to have accepted her apparent irrelevance in the grand scheme of thing. As an heir, she embodies not only this irrelevance, but the enigma around it. We’re never truly given an insight into how Marsti actually would want her life to go. She seems resistant to any attempts to force her into some kind of emotional arc. Rather, she frames her actions in terms of simple “this is what I do” statements. Marsti is content with her own nothingness, and is frustrated by people who cannot accept that about her.

Karako Pierot: I uh…..really like the Lord of Mind theory. There are a lot of mind players in Hiveswap, but Karako, to me, embodies the karma aspect of Mind more clearly than any that proceed him. He either gets justice against his attackers, or, should he be killed, the reader feels compelled to enact that justice on others. Karako at once breaks the rules of his aspect (his illogical speaking patterns, his afterlife return to the Dark Carnival, the embodiment of whimsy and mystery) while commanding it through his will and the forces surrounding him.

Charun Krojib: Sylph of Rage. If Lynera embodies the part of Rage that deals with convictions, then Charun embodies the more anarchic, confusing parts of the Aspect. However, they do not seem to use it for destructive purposes, but deconstructive. Charun meets the player at a point when they are feeling low and burnt out and angry. However subtextually, Doc Scratch’s imposition over their narrative is starting to chafe at them a bit. Charun utilizes that anger and that confusion into a tool for healing via their art. They encourage the Reader to make something. Doesn’t matter what: if it turns out crap that it can just be stripped down and made again. And working with those nebulous guidelines, the Reader is able to process their frustration into art. Art that has no set meaning, but who’s lack of stakes and general confusion bring healing to the reader. Thus, Charun embodies the Sylph’s restorative role.

Wanshi Adyata: Seer of Doom. Seers are often seen as already understanding their aspect in some respect, but the role of Seer is one who is perpetually learning and understanding more about their aspect. Notably, Rose and Terezi are both still having revelations about the nature of their aspects and abilities even as late as Act 6, where most of the other players have broadly figured out their own as far as they need to. Wanshi has demonstrated a proclivity towards knowledge and understanding, being a voracious reader. However, we as the Reader are there with her as she takes her first steps into her aspect. Though no stranger to the suffering of Alternia, we see her experience death in the most direct way she has at that point in her life, and struggle to comprehend it. Depending on how Hiveswap goes, as she grows older she may be forced to reckon with this role, and part of her maturation will be whether she buckles under the negativity of doom, or successfully incorporates it into her worldview, allowing it to inform her without sinking her.

Fozzer Velyes: Bard of Heart. Man, heartbound derse players just canNOT catch a break….criminal. In any case, the heart has to do with the self, the soul, and the identity. The Bard is not someone who destroys, but someone who invites destruction of (or destruction through) their aspect. Notably, bards often demonstrate avoidant personalities, often refusing to directly confront the things that scare them (as Fozzer with the ghosts), and are prone to talking big game but falling victim to minor hitches in their plans (as the Reader notes contrasting his cowardly reactions with his revolutionary spiel). Fozzer’s self is in fact destroyed over the course of his route, and rewritten by forces beyond his control. Its possible he will continue to enact this role on others. If we’ve seen anything from homestuck, its that bards are the ones to watch out for.

Marvus Xoloto: Seer of Time. Alright, so like I said, I’m like 99% sure we’re do for some kind of twist with Marvus. However, the Caprist sign he’s been previously associated with is timebound, and based on his bad end especially I’d say that’s a good fit. The Seer is the role I chose because Marvus doesn’t really seem to exert any particular control over his aspect, nor does he feel bound to serve it (actively defying it, in fact). Rather, he demonstrates a more in-depth of the machinations of paradox space and “canon” than any character prior, arguably even more than Dirk. Marvus may not successfully wrest control of the narrative, but he provides further insight into the function of doomed timelines, as well as some possible hints as to how paradox space’s pull can be resisted by means other than the retcon juju.

Daraya Jonjet: Rogue of Hope. Something notable about rogues is that in their immature stages: a lot of them seem to initially covet their opposite aspect. Roxy, Rogue of Void, struggled with a desire for recognition from others (Light). Rufioh, Rogue of Breath, tries desperately to forge relationships that ultimately he isn’t ready to live out (Blood). Likewise, Daraya seems desperate to perform the anarchic and embittered Rage aspect. Her bad ending is her giving herself fully to these bitter teen “burn it all down” impulses. However, that’s not ultimately how she’s happiest. She is at her best when she learns to redistribute Hope to other people. Notably she’s the first person we make legitimate effort to connect with Tyzias’ revolutionary actions. Tyzias is a powerhouse in her own right, true, but she’s one person, and though her Blood aspect gives the the ability to connect to other people, as we’ve seen she’s not the best at rallying the troops (given that her attempts at a pep talk with Daraya fall flat with the Reader not there to help). Daraya, as she grows into her role and partners more with Tyzias, may be able to help with that, stealing the Hope so long denied alternian trolls and giving it back to the people with her rebellious actions. One things for sure: the two are stronger together than they are apart.

Nikhee Moolah: Knight of Rage. She weaponizes anger into her powerful arsenal, but arguably does do it for the benefit of others. In her good ending she strengthens the reader to their utmost, actually reaping muscular benefits as a result. Likewise, her fights are (arguably) a place of catharsis for Alternian trolls and may draw in more outsiders (given the only non-clown purple we have ever seen is….there PLEASE SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS NOT CLOWN TO ME WHAT’S THEIR STORY). That anger becomes just as powerful a tool turned against the Reader as it is for the Reader, but ultimately Nikhee seems to do what she does for the good of her audience.

Lanque Bombyx: Thief of Life. Insert mandatory vampire joke here, but its not far off from how Lanque goes about his day to day. Life isn’t just about literally being alive, its also associated with growth, betterment, and positivity. We see Lanque take these things, especially from Lynera. While the amount of growth Lynera really demonstrated is VERY debatable, its hard to argue that Lanque immediately shut down the first attempt at reaching out to someone romantically that Lynera has done for anyone but Bronya, immediately turning it into an opportunity to put the moves on someone else. This may nudge him into the Prince class, but I think its more accurate to assert that Lanque isn’t destroying his aspect, necessarily, as he certainly seems to benefit from it. Instead, he’s simply ensuring that no one else gets it. Lanque is childish in temperament, and may assume that other people are as slow to mature as he is. Likewise he displays the Thief’s attitude that “I should get what I want if I’m smart enough and strong enough to take it” that we see with both Meenah and Vriska. Like both of those characters, he’s not necessarily doomed to evil behavior, merely that its more realistic to hope that he’ll start to see the good of the party as beneficial to him as well, rather than wish he’d just lose his self-interested ways (as Bronya does).

Barzum and Baizli Soleil: the fact that these two embody two different aspects (Breath and Doom respectively) seems to imply that there is at least some difference between the two twins, but whatever it is is hard to riddle out, given that they effectively switch personalities on a whim. As such, its possible to see Breath and Doom as merely two potentials towards which they could drift, either becoming more and more individuated as they embrace their Breath aspect or more and more singular as they embrace Doom. As such, I would probably assign them both the page role, as they are both untapped potential yet to mature enough to really embody anything but chaos.

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justjessame · 4 years

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The Deal Chapter 23

17 Days.

It’s been 17 days since Atlanta. Since Daryl walked out of that hospital carrying Beth’s body. Since Maggie became shrouded in grief. Since Noah became part of our group.

17 days, and it feels like a lifetime or a second, depending on where I stand.

New goal. New plan. New purpose. Noah’s home, outside Richmond, Virginia. Five hundred and thirty miles from Atlanta. To me? It could be as far away as the moon or as near as the person standing next to me. Another hope. Another dream. Walls. Security.

Glenn voices his worries. Dad, ever the optimist, mentions that we can move again. And again. Michonne keeping the theme going adds that there’s always another place. Again and again.

We separate. Two groups. Dad, Glenn, Michonne, Tyrese, and Noah lead. The rest of us close but back.

We get news through walkies. Wait, we’re there. And then, it’s gone. And then, we have to cauterize the wound. Never good news. Never.

And another loss. Another goodbye. Another funeral. Tyrese this time. My protector. My companion when we’d fled the prison. And now he was gone. His strength hadn’t mattered. His convictions hadn’t made a difference. Nothing mattered. Not anymore. My tears came easily. I didn’t have to search for the pain of his loss. It was on the surface bubbling.

Dad buried him himself. He was angry by the loss. By this man who’d protected his daughters when he couldn’t. And as I watched Tyrese’s beanie placed on the cross marking his grave, I thought how horrible this world was. How futile survival seemed. And as I let my tears flow freely, I never noticed if anyone comforted me.

We’re sixty miles from DC, things have gotten desperate. On foot, with walkers circling like vultures, I almost envy my former exhaustion. We’re moving. We’re putting one foot in front of the other. Yet we seem to get nowhere.

Sasha’s pain from two losses is making her yearn for a fight. A suicidal attack, if you ask me, since we’re all dehydrating and starving. She wants to attack the circling scavengers head on, Dad wants higher ground. And as my group ponders around me, Daryl and Carol take off in search of water and food. And I can’t find energy to care about either situation.

Our walker problem gets solved by a convenient revine/overpass combo. Just like, what is that animal that tumble off cliffs en masse? I fight for the knowledge that seems to be on the tip of my dry tongue, but it doesn’t come. And Sasha ruins any type of focus I can muster by attacking the horde, forcing the rest to join her. And then Daryl’s back, rescuing my dad, once again.

Moving forward. Thirst and hunger are constant companions, more constant than the man who swears he loves me, I think. I’m terrified that I’ll fail at my one fucking purpose in thie hellscape. Keeping Judith safe has been downgraded to keeping Judith alive. Screw safety. Living is what I’ll settle for.

I hear an argument over alcohol, and I glare. And then the barking starts. And then gunfire. And now we have food. Hunger can make people do desperate things, and I’m not above them. I close my eyes, and force away the image of the collars around our dinner’s throats. Living, I remind myself, that’s what we’re striving for.

And more moving. And more. And I stop fighting the urge to disappear. Into my head, away from it all.

I get pulled away from the nothingness I’ve slipped into by the dampness of rain. And before I can fully process, we’re rushing for a barn because the storm has picked up and is raging.

As night falls, the pounding storm batters down on the roof of our shelter. Dad tells a familiar story of my great grandfather. And as the others listen, I slip away again. Inside of myself. I don’t hear or see the walkers fighting against the doors. I see and feel nothing. I hold my crying sister close, and convince myself that I am nowhere.

Morning dawns and I’ve been leaning against the wall of the barn all night. Judith cradled on my outstretched legs. And I can tell it’s over. The storm. The walkers. Gone. I survived. We survived. And that’s proof, I think, that nothing in this world makes sense.

When another stranger appears, a man named Aaron, promising hope. I wonder when door to door salesmen made a comeback. And then I shut it off again. I focus on Judith and her survival. And I wait for Dad and the others to make the plans.

He has photos. Of this magical community. Alexandria. Dad knocks him out, he’s tied up, and when he comes to, he’s asked for more intel. I listen passively. Does it matter? Whether he’s telling the truth, or leading us to another Terminus, does it matter?

Dad, Judith, and I stay in the barn since everyone else seems gung ho to check out the Disneyworld of the apocalypse. While we sit around with Aaron, Dad being clear on his threats, I hold Judith and take my place from the night before. Leaning against the wall, her cradled on my legs. I wonder what Dad sees when he looks at me. Does he see that I’m broken? Have I hid it so well that even he sees nothing? I must be, because he barely glances my way. Trusting that Judith and I are safe together. And he’s right, she’s safe with me.

She’s hungry, and fussy. So Dad crushing acorns, trying to make something that she can have to curb her tiny hunger. I help him, as our guest begs to be untied, for extra security. When the ploy doesn’t work, he offers applesauce he has in his backpack. Dad, untrusting as me, tests it first, no matter how the stranger acts insulted at the thought he would poison a baby. And Judith, having starved for too long for either Dad and I to admit, finally got something in her tummy that helped.

Our group returns with supplies. Dad wants to keep the food and not go to Alexandria, but he’s overruled. And so, as night falls, we’re on the move again. A vehicle this time, and I feel myself relax despite myself.

There are potholes. Walkers, flares, wrecks. But eventually we make it. It’s morning. I’m in the RV with Abraham and the others, and I feel panic build at this new community. What are we really driving into?

Dad’s holding Judith in his arms in front of the huge gate. We can hear children playing, and he takes my hand in his. A united front. United in front of an unknown group. Daryl takes my other hand, and I feel a little shocked at it. When was the last time we touched casually? I couldn’t remember.

We walk through the open gate and are greeted with demands to hand over our weapons. I stare at Dad, feeling completely confused by the mere thought of disarming. I hadn’t been without at least one weapon since this entire mess started, and while my bow was long retired, a knife or gun was always at my side.

Aaron, calming down a tense situation, assures us we can keep them until we meet Deanna Monroe, their leader. A woman who looks like the end of the world never happened. Clean, coifed, and dressed like a Stepford wife, I wonder what made her worthy to lead.

We each meet her one on one in her well appointed house, a video camera lurking behind her to record our interviews. Because when I take my seat, I have no doubt at all that we’re being interviewed. She begins by giving the full community brochure in detail. Eco friendly this, self sustaining that. And I listen as I take stock of what I’m seeing and not hearing. Nothing about security or training for attacks. Nothing beyond the gate and guards, who failed at their one job by not getting us to hand over our weapons. She was a politician, that’s as clear as a bell. She doesn’t seem to want to know much.

I tell her what I care to share. I’m Rick Grimes’ oldest child, his first daughter, and I take care of my baby sister and brother. I keep things running smoothly. I maintain the contentment of our group. And as I’m standing, I realize that I never mentioned Daryl. Not once.

Our weapons seem a small price to pay for the home we’re given. Dad, Carl, Judith, me, Carol, and Daryl. Cozy. My first goal, even before food or water, or anything basic need based, is to get clean. And so, Judith and I take our first shower together. I find such happiness in her amazement at the warm water flowing over us, at her giggles as the bubbles from my shampoo slide over us. And when we come out, I find that someone, Carol I assume has placed clean clothes for me on the counter, and some things for Judith as well.

Brushing my long hair after the shower, while Judith lay in the middle of the bed in the room I’d chosen, I let myself pretend that the world had been forced back into the before. That there wasn’t danger lurking all around and that we were safe. That we had a chance of a real life. In a house. With running water and appliances, and electricity. That this would work. That there wouldn’t be another screw up. And I let myself pretend that I could see it, believe in it, and feel happy about it.

#daryl dixon x ofc #rick grimes daughter #eventual negan x ofc #angst #The Walking Dead #alternative universe #mental illness

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steve-needs-a-hug · 4 years

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“Home is where you really belong.”

Hey guys. So I’m seeing TRoS this Friday night, and I figured it’d be a good idea to share a little piece I wrote a couple months ago which is basically a possible TRoS ending.

Brief summary: It starts off at the climax, with Rey having just defeated Kylo Ren in an epic battle. Things are about to take a dark turn but Rey has a change of heart. Poe lets off some steam he’d been keeping bottled up for a long time, and it ends happily with the trio and Chewie flying off safely in the Falcon.

(It sounds benign, but I cried a lot after writing it because it got SO intense and emphasized a lot of the major themes that a lot of people seem to gloss over. It was a meaningful experience writing it, and I hope it’ll be a meaningful experience for you reading it.) *there is NO ship content except the Millennium Falcon lol*

“Can you see them?” Poe called to Finn.

“Not yet!” Finn shouted. He squinted through the window of the ship, searching through the thick cloud cover and heavy rain. Suddenly he saw flashes of blue light, followed by a flash of fiery red.

“Uh, I think I found them,” Finn called back to Poe. Poe and Chewie quickly descended the Falcon, now looking for a safe place to land on the wet, stormy planet. Finn was on edge, anxious about Rey’s safety; he wished he’d never let her go alone. As soon as the Falcon was on solid ground, he opened the door and rushed out, but what he saw stopped him short.

Kylo Ren was on his knees, slashes and burns on his face and all over his body. Rey fought him relentlessly with all the anger and rage in her heart, and now she stood tall over him, her lightsaber drawn to his throat. There was something different about her. Her eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light, and Finn could have sworn he heard a sinister whisper in the air.

Rey glowered down at her defeated enemy. He’d hurt so many people. She could avenge them, right then and there. Rey started to become aware of a blackness creeping over her heart…it felt like she was being swallowed up with wrath. She closed her eyes, and suddenly there was only one thought in her mind – “Do it.”

She opened her eyes again, but they were clouded by a red haze. “Do it. Do it. Do it.” She heard a voice in the distance calling her name, but it sounded so muffled and far away. She looked down at Kylo Ren and all she could see were painful, bitter memories of torture, violence, destruction, and lies. She could end it now and deliver Kylo Ren the justice he deserved. She was the punisher. She was the avenger. He thought he could teach her, turn her, but now he was completely at her mercy. She felt as if raw power was coursing through her veins. Rey now distinctly heard an old, gnarled voice. “Do what must be done, Rey. Do not hesitate, show no mercy.” Her grip on the lightsaber tightened. She began to lift up her arm to strike, to land the finishing blow and end the evil deeds of Kylo Ren once and for all. Suddenly a face began to take shape in her mind…an old face…careworn, but kind…a familiar woman.

Rey saw Leia’s sad eyes, Leia’s warm smile. She remembered Leia’s arms around her as she cried on the Princess’s shoulder. She remembered Leia sitting alone, her mind far away, dwelling on people and places long gone. Rey glanced downward at Kylo Ren, red blood dripping down his face and matting in his thick dark hair. Her stomach lurched when she looked at his eyes, big and brown just like his mother’s. It was hard for Rey to even believe that Kylo Ren was related to the people Rey looked up to most. As soon as Rey saw the eyes, she couldn’t unsee them. She couldn’t unsee Leia Organa’s only child in this broken monster of a man. Rey’s head started swimming as it raced to a future mere minutes from coming to pass…Kylo Ren’s blood spilt all over the ground. Would she leave his body there? Would they have to take it with them and bury it somewhere? Rey saw herself facing Leia once she returned. Her son’s blood on Rey’s clothes. She knew she would never be able to look Leia in the eye again. Just one more soul-shattering trauma to add to the Princess’s already burdened heart.

Rey detracted her lightsaber, the fury and heat of moments earlier abruptly replaced with bone-chilling cold. She blinked several times as the haze dissipated and she turned around to see Finn and Poe standing a small distance away, staring at her, frozen. Rey suddenly turned around and took off running straight towards them; Finn jumped, nervous that some darkness possessed Rey and turned her against them, but as she approached he saw her eyes back to their normal hazel colour, her face full of emotion. She nearly smashed into him, her arms tightly wrapped around and hands gripping Finn’s body for dear life. Finn had no clue what just happened but he knew she needed him right now, so he held her close and didn’t move or speak until she finally pulled away with teary eyes.

Kylo Ren felt the darkness envelope Rey in that moment. It was so thick in the air that he felt as if it was choking him. He saw her eyes glow with an uncanny orange light. He felt not only her fury, but an ancient spirit of hate and revenge overtaking her. Kylo knew what was coming next and he had nothing left in him to fight. He began to long for the blade to hit. At least the pain would be over.

But then she looked at him like he was a human being, retracted her lightsaber, and…ran away. He struggled to focus on who was waiting for her in the distance…the traitor, of course. And that pilot. Rey was hugging Finn so tightly that Kylo wondered if Finn would break a rib (even on the brink of death, Kylo’s dry humour is never absent). Poe Dameron watched his friends embrace for a while, but his attention shifted to Kylo’s distant, slumped over figure. Kylo pulled in a shaky breath, knowing what was coming as Poe strode over to him. Poe stopped only a few feet away from Kylo and stared hard at him for a solid minute.

Poe badly wanted to slap Kylo Ren across the face, but as he neared him and saw Kylo’s wounds, he decided to express his feelings in a way that didn’t involve getting Kylo’s dark red blood on his hand.

“Interesting,” Poe finally said. “Last time we met, I was the one bleeding with you looming over me. You ripped my mind apart like it was a game to you, and my friend told me you did the same thing to her. You nearly killed Finn. You work for people who obliterated an entire system of populated planets. But you know what? You know what, Kylo?” Poe spat. “That’s not the worst thing you’ve done. None of it is.” Poe paused, eyes boring into Kylo, who faced the ground.

“She put up a brave face for the others, but I saw her. I saw her sitting quiet, alone, and I know she was thinking about you.”

Poe suddenly lunged forward. “Where’s her husband?! Huh?!” Poe shouted at Kylo.

“Where is he?!”

Kylo’s jaw clenched as hot tears streamed down his face, causing the wounds to sting even more. Finn, hearing Poe’s raised voice, walked over to see the scene unfold. Finn watched Kylo’s eyes, witnessing the resentment, shame, defiance, and regret he was experiencing all at once. He had never been so vulnerable.

“It’s only because of her that we didn’t kill you,” Poe bitterly whispered. Kylo finally looked up from the ground to meet Poe’s eyes through a curtain of dark messy hair over his bloodied face, opening his mouth slowly.

“I wish you had,” he croaked, pain breaking his voice. Poe didn’t flinch. Kylo Ren shut his eyes tightly, starting to wobble from the effort of keeping himself up on his knees. His head started to swim as he felt a familiar figure approaching him slowly.

Chewbacca stood over Kylo Ren and emitted a low, quiet groan. He remembered when this broken man was a happy young boy, with loving parents at his side. As Kylo slipped into unconsciousness, Chewie stooped down and picked him up with his strong, furry arms. Poe turned and headed back towards Rey and Finn as they watched Chewbacca carry Kylo into the Falcon, themselves standing outside a little longer. They remained silent for a moment. Rey noticed Poe’s reddened face and glassy eyes.

“He’ll pay for what he’s done,” Rey said quietly. “It’s over now.”

Poe turned to her, eyes now glowing fiercely. “Is it? Is it really?” Finn blinked rapidly; he’d never seen his usually easy-going friend this intense until today.

“The Galaxy was peaceful until Darth Vader and the Empire showed up,” Poe continued. “Just when we thought things were going to be okay again, then here came this guy. How do we know there’s not going to be another maniac trying to take over the Galaxy?”

Finn placed his hands on his hips confidently. “If there is, they’ll have us to deal with.”

Rey smiled, and Poe shook his head and chuckled sadly. Finn’s expression then turned more serious.

“I’m done running,” he said. “I’m ready to stand and fight, as long as I have you two by my side.”

Rey put her arm around his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

“Where? Back to Jakku?” Finn joked, eliciting a laugh from Rey.

“Anywhere but there! No, my home…” Rey trailed off for a moment, pondering. Where’s home? Home is where you really belong. Then she finally knew the answer to the question she’d been asking all along. “Wherever you guys are, that’s where home will be.”

Finn beamed, a huge grin on his face. Poe put his worries aside for the moment and smiled with his friends. Together they turned and walked back inside the Falcon. Kylo lay crumpled on a couch in the corner, his tattered black cape draped over him like a blanket. Chewie sat in the co-pilot’s chair, the sorrowful expression in his eyes lifting when he saw the young trio’s optimistic faces. Rey took a deep breath and plunked down beside him, gave him a loving pat on the back, and started preparing for takeoff. None of the people in that ship knew where life was going to take them or what the Force had in store for their future, but Rey, Finn, Poe, and Chewbacca knew that as long as they had each other, they were going to be all right.

THE END

#star wars #the rise of skywalker #rey #kylo ren #finn #poe dameron #chewbacca #finnreypoe #leia organa #han solo #finnrey #tros #sw tros

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ivalice-tifalucis · 4 years

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My ramblings on FFVII Remake

The irony never lost on me that after so many years on tumblr, I finally act on my username, actually post things related to FF.

So I finally finished FFVII Remake this Wednesday although stupidly I quitted the game before the credits finished rolling so I had to replay the last part again on Saturday. Thank goodness I already knew what to do so I only needed an hour to finish the last part. Took me 2,5 weeks and close to 50 hours of gameplay to finished as I also have real life obligation to do and couldn’t just play video game for whole day. And oh my god what an experience. As non OG fan who got introduced FFVII and FF in general because in 2006 her school best friend couldn’t stop yelling about Advent Children, who have watched Advent Children for god knows how many times even though she could barely understand the context, who felt weird at Dirge of Cerberus, and who cried stupid at Crisis Core ending, this game is beyond my expectation.

In 2015, when they announced the release, I was like ‘ oh great, finally they’re gonna make this after all’. I have waited for the remake for almost a decade at that time yet I felt empty because I was no longer care so much about FF anymore. I still haven’t even played FFXV yet I waited that for so long since the first FFVersusXIII trailer. So finally Square Enix got their shits together, great for them.

And then FFVII Remake was released. Y’know what, I didn’t even see the trailer. I didn’t care. But then covid-19 happened and I was bored. My brother kept suggesting me to buy FFVII Remake, said that the game got great reviews and I’ve waited for so long. I was like ‘ok, let’s see what the fuss is about.’ I never actually play the PS one game because 1) Never got the chance to, and when I could have the resource to play it, 2) I lost interest in FF. So it’s a good way to play a game you only read about it all this time. Then I read some of the review and bits of spoilers, because I’m that kind of person, that the game is not exactly a remake, that it’s only first few hours of original game, which quite dissapointing at first because you thought you’re gonna play like the real ans whole reimagined FFVII. And people talk about Zack. That’s what pique my interest more. I thought it’s only flashback because Zack did appear as flashback in OG but then spoilers said he’s alive??!! What??? Ok gotta have this game.

And so begin my geeky nostalgic journey. I haven’t heard The Prelude for so long and it was so beautiful hearing it on the menu. I stopped to listen to the song. Then the intro, beautiful, exactly what I always dreamed about if FFVII got a remake. Then the first bombing mission is done and Cloud met Aerith for the first time in Loveless street. And holy maholy, ‘wait, is that- omg The Promised Land from Advent Children!!!!’ Yep that sold me. No getting away from this.

By the release of this game, it brought me to realization that not every FFVII fans are keen of Compilation of FFVII which is too bad because I love Compilations with all its ups and downs. I wouldn’t like FFVII if it’s not of the Compilations. What makes FFVII far more interesting than other FF series is the mystery and big world building. Midgar is only tiny piece of Gaia compare to what we would explore in later Remake chapter. Every characters, good or bad have their own story and mystery. And while many of the backstory is explained in the OG, some of them got fleshed out in sequels and prequels. Listening to The Promised Land brought me to realize that FFVII Remake is not merely a remake but more like another chapter or maybe the first chapters that could conclude FFVII for good. Because I would love to see at least the definitive end of FFVII, where at least all the mysteries are answered.

The introduction of the Whispers or Arbiters of Fate during first encounter with Aerith made me realized immediately that this is what people meant when they said FFVII Remake defied from OG. I think if used well Whispers could give deeper impact to Remake. It adds more mysteries but it could also answer mysteries. Yes, including Zack’s fate. It depends on how Kazushige Nojima and Tetsuya Nomura used it. Of course I’m also a bit anxious. I don’t remember what but something Nomura did and said in the past is actually what made me driven even further from FF and honestly I’m afraid. I never played Kingdom Hearts but I heard people talk about how it becomes bumbling jumbo which I agree since that’s the reason why I never play KH because I had no clue what it is even about. Even reading the plot made my head hurts. And in the last two years I have been let down by my favorite franchises that are Game of Thrones and Star Wars sequels. However I’m optimistic because I don’t think Tetsuya Nomura would want to destroy his own legacy. FFVII is what makes him the top tier guy in Square Enix in the first place. It’s his precious baby and he has complete control over it.

In other topic, the game is absolutely beautiful. I had doubts when my brother told me they used Unreal while FFXV used Luminous Engine which based on what I saw on youtube made FFXV so beautiful and immersive (I hope someone could explain to me why). FFVII Remake is also beautiful game within its capacity. Of course because the engine limitation there are few downs on the graphic and render. I couldn’t get over that door in Sector 7 slums looks so unrendered I thought the game had rendering delay. But overall the game has reimagined Midgar perfectly. Other than objects that you could way too easily kick, there is so little bug. Other than Crisis Core, which was only PSP game and couldn’t do much, this is the only time we see Midgar before disaster other than the OG game. And Midgar is amazing. The upper plate, the cities look modern and well planned while the slums look so lively and dense. The Wall Market is festive and crazy, the mission is also crazy. I had a great laugh and snicker all the way during this part. Exactly what I would imagine Wall Market would be when I read about it all this time. The puzzles are great. The gameplay is also great. It’s not repetitive and makes you feel accomplished. Each enemies require different approach. I sometime had to look into walkthrough so I could find a good suggestion on how to defeat certain boss, after I failed so many times. There is a need for strategy so I have to prepare what kind of materia and accessories I would use on certain character which sadly lacked in the last FF game that I played almost a decade ago, which was FFXIII.

The music, damn I haven’t stop listening to Hollow since I finished the game. You notice that the previous posts had me got mind blown by it. Nobuo Uematsu has done it again. He touches my heart with his music, and he has done it again. The rest of the soundtrack is also great. Did I mention that I stop for a while to listen to The Prelude? Also got nostalgic and humming along with Main Theme, Aerith’s Theme, Tifa’s Theme, Shinra’s theme, Those Who Fight.

All in all, the fact that I couldn’t stop talking about this game, to me, is indicator that this game is amazing. 9/10 (because I don’t like that they used Unreal).

#cloud strife #tifa lockhart #aerith gainsborough #zack fair #final fantasy vii remake #my ramblings #i review something yeay #ffvii remake review #spoilers

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scifinal · 4 years

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DW s12e03 "Orphan 55" or The Importance of Not Conveying a Message

I swear this is not a Doctor Who fan blog - there's simply no denying that what DW has become as of now is a major and highly influential sci-fi franchise, and there's also no denying that last week I, regrettably, dedicated two days of my life to binging its, as of now, most recent season (and to think I could've been re-watching series D of Blake's 7 instead!), which, in turn, led me to doing what I've had in mind for quite some time now – creating this blog (and returning to tumblr, which I wasn't planning on doing). I wrote my review on the season's finale just yesterday, but there are plenty more things in this season that, I feel, need to be touched upon.

So, here I am, doing just that.

Part One: The Idea

Now, I ask you to imagine a story. Imagine a story in which a neglectful mother leaves her child and, as years go by, gets so overwhelmed with guilt she decides to give said child a gift hoping that maybe, just maybe, this gift will make up for that horrible thing she did years ago. The mother wants to give her child a literal world as a gift. So she picks a planet that nobody will ever claim, an orphan planet, and tries to raise money to afford terraforming it. She becomes a mother to an orphan planet in an attempt to become a mother to her orphan child.

This sounds like a beautiful story. It is a beautiful story.

Part Two: The Science

Doctor Who, which started out as an educational show for schoolkids, is, as of now, at heart, a space opera. There is nothing inherently bad in space operas: these are merely a subgenre of science fiction that focuses on relationships between its characters and social issues, with little to no regard or often at the expense of the "sci" in "sci-fi". Space operas can be beautiful. "Dark They Were, and Golden-Eyed", one of my favourite stories by Ray Bradbury, and one of my favourite short stories period is a space opera. "The Stainless Steel Rat" series by Harry Harrison is a space opera. "Ensign Flandry" by Poul Anderson is a space opera. I love them all.

The surprisingly hard thing with writing space operas is that you have to be careful with science. What I mean by that is that a writer behind a space opera project has to be careful with inventing his technobabble in case he faces a necessity of explaining something. The writer has to be careful and make his technobabble so illegible yet science-y that his audience has no choice but to roll with it, regardless of whether they have the faintest idea what the words the writer has used mean or not. The space opera technobabble has to sound science-y but otherwise has no business using scientific terms that might happen to make some sense to an audience member that happens to be slightly more educated than average and thus more perceptive of your nonsense (bonus points if what the writer has created is not as good as they themselves think it is and that slightly more educated audience member has already gotten so tired of The Work that they unintentionally begin to catch more factual mistakes than they would had the author not oversuspended their disbelief), because at that point...

...Science Says "Hello, I'm Still Here!" (Part Three)

The third episode of the twelfth season of Doctor Who gave its seemingly made-up term "orphan planet" a very clear definition: a previously habitable world that, through processes which may vary in nature, has become unable of supporting sentient, if any at all, life. Here's an excerpt from the Doctor Who fan wiki:

Again, a fairly clear definition.

Except...

"Orphan planet" is an actual scientific term. There are many synonymous terms used to describe it, but, basically, an orphan planet is a planet that doesn't belong to a star system and travels on its own. Here's an excerpt from Wikipedia (I do realise that it isn't a reliable source, but in this case this actually is a correct definition):

And this isn't a rare term, either. In fact, the concept of a rogue, or orphan, planet is fairly common in science fiction – a strange cold, inhospitable world, incapable of supporting life, travelling through the vast cosmos all on its own, fearsome and unpredictable.

Now, why the difference between two definitions of an otherwise well-known occurrence?

Because the story I asked you to imagine in the beginning of this post wasn't enough.

Part Four: The Need for Relevance

There's no arguing that, in some way or another, every piece of media captures the time its creator lives in through the lense of their worldview. It might be obvious in things like clothing, technology, or societal constructs they, the author, perceive as normal or abnormal. There is no arguing that every piece of media ages, and no arguing that most media produced for mass audiences has to be relevant. And science fiction set in the future, surprisingly enough for some, is not an exception; more than that, it may even age worse than other genres as technology develops beyond what creators of science fiction of the past could possibly imagine.

One way of compensating that aging is creating an ever-relevant story. The reason the original trilogy of Star Wars still stands despite its dated effects and tech is not only that it's set in an alien world, but also that it tells a fairly simple story that is bound to be relatable for years to come: it's a journey a hero sets on to right the wrongs. The reason the original Star Trek is good after all these years despite its dated, er, everything technical is that its themes are relatable, its morals are clear, its characters – well-defined. Blake's 7 is wonderful (I mean, this is the third or fourth time I'm mentioning this fairly little-known show in two posts, it should be clear that I love it) not only because of its cheesy British-TV-sci-fi-show-shoestring-budget effects, late-70s-future-fashion outfits charm and well-done models, but because of its clear idea that's bound to last for ages: there will always be an oppressor, there will always be the oppressed, there will always be those who resist the existing regime.

But creating a story with a long-lasting theme is not the only way to being appreciated. We live in an era of information, and we live in an era of that information being at our fingertips, and we also live in an era in which, as always, people want to make profit. Fast profit.

And a much easier way of making profit is not making a story that will last forever, but a relevant story, a story with which its intended audience will resonate right now and not over a prolonged period of time.

This is the time for us to again return to the story I asked you to imagine in the beginning. That story is timeless. Its themes will last as long as there are orphans in the world, and as long as there are neglectful parents, and as long as guilt exists. It's a good story.

But people want more profit than a story that is merely good can make. People want a good story that is also currently relevant.

And so they add a currently relevant theme to it.

Part 4: Additions Have Got to Be Made

There's nothing inherently wrong with adding a new theme to your already existing storyline: it may lead to exploring new depths you didn't expect would open up. The problem arises when said theme is nothing but pandering and is there only to admit the existence of something so the audience can say "I know about this thing that they've mentioned", as if that gives them a figurative gold star, and get back to their business, satisfied that some story they connected with acknowledged a problem that they feel something about. This is pandering.

Now, what does this have to do with the two different definitions of one term and that story?

Part Five: Here's What I Think Is the Problem

I don't think that at the early stages of writing the screenplay for "Orphan 55" DW's definition of the term "orphan planet" was all that different from what an orphan planet actually is. On the contrary, I think the person who first pitched the story did have in mind actual interstellar objects – otherwise they would've devised a new term for uninhabitable planets; besides, almost everything in the episode makes sense without an orphan planet being a once inhabitable world. I also believe that this change was thrown in towards the end of writing the actual script, because then it would probably be written in a way that allows the idea of their version of an orphan planet to be more developed. So why did they, in my opinion, even add that?

You guessed it. Pandering. My best guess is that the higher-ups wanted to throw something "hip" into the story, to add something "relevant", because they wanted a bigger resonance and thus a more profitable episode. And what could be more relevant that the fact that we, the humanity, have kind of screwed our planet up and now everybody's talking about this?

This is the reason they've changed the definition of a pre-existing term. It's not that they wanted to make a statement: they wanted to make money. It's not that they wanted to raise awareness: they wanted to raise their profits. The message wasn't intended as a warning directed towards people who may not know or do not care about the subject: it was a corporation pandering towards those who already agree with it.

It hurts me to write this; I genuinely want to believe this isn't the case. I genuinely want to believe that the addition was made by some well-meaning script editor – but I can't. We live in a world in which corporations can and do use important messages as a means to profit off of people's beliefs. The optimistic option just isn't that probable.

And in the End...

Imagine a flower. Imagine a tender flower on a small flowerbed; a beautiful flower, carefully tended to, lovingly grown, a flower that will bloom for a long time. And next to it, a bigger, more colourful one, a flower that grabs your attention, but only for a short moment – and for no other reason that its life is so short. The big flower will wither, and it will wither soon, and the small one will go unnoticed simply because it's not as bright, and not as big... but it is beautiful when you notice it, and it will bring a smile to your face when you notice it again.

That story about a mother, her child, and a planet was a good story, but its theme about being an orphan wasn't what grabbed the viewer's attention: it was the blunt message about saving our habitat, and it distracted from the actual plot and its own underlying theme.

Your story is your flowerbed. A bright and resonating theme will live on for only as long as it stays popular, for as long as the public is interested in it, and the second that interest is lost, your flowerbed of a story dies with it. If that was your intent – you did well. But if you tend to your garden for the future generations to see, don't make it about here and now, make it about everywhere. Make it about always. Make it so the bright and eye-catching, and short-lived isn't what people know your garden for.

#doctor who #doctor who review #thirteenth doctor #critique #review #spilled thoughts #long reads #long post #sci fi #sci fi review

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