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peaches2217 · 6 months

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Peach is crying again.

The panic that might normally strike Mario at such a sight is nowhere to be found, because this has been happening a lot lately; she gets misty-eyed over just about anything, a stark contrast to her usual fortitude in the face of great emotion. She's craving cake but realizes she'll have to wait for it to bake before she can actually eat it? Tears. Toadette brings her some tea just as she notices her throat's feeling dry? Tears. Mario uses her name alone instead of one of the plethora of endearments he normally assigns to her? Tears.

This is perfectly normal, Toadessa has assured them both. Her hormones will begin restabilizing as she approaches her second trimester, and until then, Mario has no reason to worry if she's suddenly weepier than usual.

That doesn't mean he likes it, and it certainly doesn't mean he'll just sit back and let it happen. If Peach is going to be inconsolable over every little thing, then she's going to be inconsolable while he attempts to console her anyway.

Right now she's leaned back in her chair in the royal office, making a half-hearted effort to compose herself, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief that looks like it's already seen a fair amount of use today. "Mario," she starts, and he already knows she's about to apologize. He doesn't give her the opportunity.

"Hey," he says, crossing the room with wide steps and reaching his hands out to her, "what's wrong? It's alright. Tell me what's wrong."

She adjusts herself so that she's facing him just as he reaches her, and he cups her right cheek in his left palm to look her over. Her face is blotchy and wet, yet her makeup is untouched. He's not sure if it's her magic keeping her cosmetics pristine or if she's just begun using waterproof mascara and eyeliner. Maybe some combination of the two.

Sniffling again, Peach leans into his touch and closes her eyes. "It's so silly," she sighs. "Please don't... y-you would laugh. Don't worry about it."

Mario debates pulling away to take his gloves off, offer her the comfort of his skin against hers, but she looks so relieved to be on the receiving end of his touch that he can't bring himself to do it. He summons his Firebrand into that hand in compensation, so at least he can offer her warmth.

“No.” He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear with his free hand, his voice as soothing and sweet as he can possibly muster. “Tesoro mio, no, your pain is my pain. I would never laugh at you."

Sniffle. Peach opens her eyes to fix him with a grateful smile, and more tears slip out as she does so. He wishes now more than ever that his leather gloves were made of a more absorbent material. "I..." Another deep sigh. "I started thinking, and then I couldn't stop thinking... and I wondered if you would..."

"Yes," Mario encourages, and now he takes both of her hands into his right hand, squeezing gently. "It's okay. You can tell me."

Sorrow washes over her expression, and Mario steadies himself with a deep breath. He hates seeing her like this. He wants to take all of her pain, all of her sorrow, put it in a bottle and put that bottle into a safe and send it sinking to the bottom of the ocean.

"Would you..." With a shuddering inhale, Peach finally presents her question: "Would you still love me if I were a Wiggler?"

Silence overtakes the room. Mario's so hopelessly baffled that he can't even begin to figure out how he's supposed to feel right now, much less respond.

"...Oh." Fresh tears well up, falling with renewed vigor, and that's enough to snap him out of his stupor.

"No no no," he quickly shushes, wiping what tears he can with his thumb, "I'm sorry! You just— I mean, I wasn't expecting that, but yes, I would still love you!"

“But what if I didn’t recognize you?” And now Peach sounds genuinely distraught, her voice breaking every third or fourth word. “What if I saw you and you tried to speak to me but all I could think about was munching on the tasty shrubbery you were standing next to?"

She's full-on weeping now, and as much as he hates the sight, it's taking all of Mario's willpower not to start laughing. Of all the hypothetical scenarios she might have imagined up wherein he might feel anything but overpowering love for her...

"Peach," he says, and he kisses her soaked cheek, "mia dolce principessa, l'amore della mia vita, that would change nothing! I'll love you to the very end no matter what."

The affirmation combined with the gratuitous usage of endearments wretches a sob from Peach's lips, and she frees her hands from Mario's grasp to pull him into an embrace, taking advantage of the more absorbent fabric of his shirt. He lets her cry, slipping his gloves off and stuffing them in his back pocket before returning her embrace.

"I'd love you too," Peach chokes out, her nails digging into the thick denim of his overalls. "If you were a Wiggler, I'd still love you just as much!"

Mario finally lets himself laugh, carding his fingers through her hair. "I know. I know you would."

~~~

That night, reclined on the couch with her head in Mario's lap, Peach cries for an entirely different reason.

"Why did you play along?" she groans, her voice pitched in embarrassment. "You should have been honest with me!"

"I was honest with you," he reasons.

"No you weren't! You didn't once tell me how stupid I sounded!"

"No," Mario corrects, "I told you nothing but the truth, mia amata. I would still love you if you were a Wiggler."

Peach buries her face in her hands and groans again, and Mario wipes at the tears that escape anyway with a tissue, shushing her softly.

#super mario bros #smb #mario #princess peach #mareach #mario x peach #peaches has opinions #peaches' fancy fics #tw pregnancy #it’s not super prominent but it IS the catalyst so the warning’s there anyway!

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gcldfanged · 1 year

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@unforestalledreturn

Scaevola Tanne: Third Class.

Like so many other Thirds, he seemed to have peaked shortly after surviving mako treatment. Unremarkable in stats- Strength and endurance above average. No magical affinity nor aptitude. Mental fortitude, acuity, and resourcefulness so-so. Main skills (if any) seemed to be observation and adaptation, mainly situational improvisation. Had a decent enough appearance that he could manage to be seductive, slightly above average.

All in all, ‘slightly above average’ was the club he wielded over even weaker recruits. He was a bully and a coward, an opportunist. Yet his unremarkable qualities were what made him so dangerous- He was virtually indistinguishable from any other ‘normal’ person working for Shinra, aside from being part of the SOLDIER program.

By far, he was the easiest to pin down in terms of habits, schedule, and pattern. Approaching Tanne during on-duty hours wouldn’t be impossible, but Jae-hyo wanted to deal with the Third alone, without his entourage of sycophants.

He wasn’t sure how long the abuse had been going on, but it was safe to say that Scaevola was a repeat offender. He liked being in control for all the wrong reasons, used his physical strength and imposing figure to lord over others and quash any hopes of retaliation. The type to apologize and gaslight in the same breath, truly and utterly without remorse or self-awareness.

There wasn’t a type based off of appearances alone, but he did target those who appeared the most vulnerable. Shy singles alone at the bar, pretty faces built on artifice masking non-existent self-confidence. Binge drinkers especially were Scaevola’s favorite flavor, swooping in to play the concerned bystander, the Nice Guy. Luring barely conscious young clubbers into taxis or down barely used alleys to get his ‘reward’ for his apparent chivalry.

All it took was some hair spray, heavier make up, and a change in wardrobe to become more appealing to his prey, but the performance had to be flawless.

Paying off the bar keep ahead of time, Jae nursed a handful of watered down cocktails as the night progressed- making sure that the number of emptied glasses were clearly visible. He made sure his body language was more confident, if loose-limbed and clumsy, flirting and dancing with a bevy of strangers. All it took was an ‘accidental’ trip into Tanne’s arms and the trap was set.

The Turk leaned heavily against the Third’s side, affectionate and uncoordinated. Scaevola wasted very little time taking him back to his apartment, pouring yet another drink to ply his inhibitions. Straddling the larger man’s lap, letting Tanne slobber all over him like a dog was a small price to pay for what he had planned as the payoff.

He jams a syringe into the side of Tanne’s neck and shoves the plunger down before he’s shoved off, as the Turk already at a disadvantage against a mako-roided SOLDIER who could probably take a hit from an oncoming train. After that, it was simply evade an enraged Third Class until his little cocktail of drugs kicked in.

“What’s wrong, I thought you liked slapping pretty boys around-” Jae purrs, driving his elbow into the blonde’s gut, before slamming his heel straight up into his lower jaw.

He picks up a marble ashtray off of the coffee table, quite enjoying it’s heft as he swings it and connects with the side of Scaevola’s forehead. Head injuries bled a hell of a lot, which was enough of a spectacle to make the larger man begin to question if he wanted to fight back.

Lowering himself, Scaevola attempts to shoulder tackle Jae-hyo down, only to receive a swift knee to the groin. That makes him fall over and hurl up a mixture of beer and bar food across the hardwood floors, hands between his legs in abject pain.

Jae lifts a leg and slams all of his weight down against one of Tanne’s kneecaps, relishing in the crunching sound it makes.

“How fast do Thirds heal again? Missing some teeth, fingers, and toes you’d be able to survive, but...” he trails off, pulling a chef’s knife out of a wooden block in the man’s kitchen.

“Unless you’ve got some Cleansing materia on hand, I doubt you’ll be surviving the night. That’s a pretty potent neurotoxin I just shot you up with, but it does take a few hours to really run it’s entire course through your system. You should be feeling a kind of buzzing sensation in your fingers and toes, spreading through your arms and legs. Like effervescent tablets in a glass of water, nice and bubbly.”

He squats down on his heels next to Scaevola and slaps him in the face a few times, looking only slightly annoyed by how easily he’s giving up.

“Guys like you are all the same-You’re all about power. Granted, it makes sense, but as soon as someone stronger than you shows up, you just fucking fold. You didn’t fear me when you thought I was some weak-ass little twink, but now you respect me... because I’m a threat.”

Tap-tap-tapping the flat of the blade against a burly shoulder, he yawns in a tired fashion.

“This isn’t how I expected things to go. I’m really just kind of disappointed.”

#unforestalledreturn #◈ RP THREADS #◈ GIVE ME A KISS THAT MELTS AWAY THIS FIRST DEATH IS FOR YOU [UNFORESTALLEDRETURN]#torture cw #vomiting cw #alcohol mention cw

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the-gentleman-adventurer · 2 years

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Adventure as Stoicism

In popular culture adventurers are strong-willed heroes with 'stiff upper lips' who are admired for their ability to 'tough it out' when the going gets tough. What do 'adventurers' who carelessly put their lives at risk get out of the experience? Should it be seen as admirable? Can misfortune be a positive force in our lives? Stoicism is a school of philosophy that has some surprising answers to these questions.

If a man stirs himself to face the worst of disasters and defeats the evils which overwhelm others, then he wears those very sorrows like a sacred badge. For we are naturally disposed to admire more than anything else the man who shows fortitude in adversity. - Seneca

Stoicism comes from the third century BC Greco-Roman world yet it has survived through the ages with many famous people adhering to it's tenets. Like most philosophy it can be a steep learning curve but there are a lot of resources online which can give you an idea of it's major principles. Ranging from this neat summary through the more comprehensive Wikipedia article to whole websites such as The Daily Stoic which has a comprehensive library of articles, videos and podcasts you could easily get lost in.

It has a lot going for it, especially when it comes to battling the 'no-win' issues that we all face: facing mortality, downplaying things we have no control over, deemphasising consumerism, prioritising virtue and appreciating what people do rather than what they say.

But there are also a number of ways that I can see that it can be twisted to rationalise negative behaviour.

The idea of accepting things that we have no control over means that you don't beat yourself up over things that you could never change, however you must still plan to avoid misfortune as much as possible. You have no control over the weather but you can plan to avoid extreme weather and wear or carry wet weather gear. You might think that you have no control over the protection of the environment and as an individual you don't. However as a member of society you should do your part to contribute towards it's protection though. Leaving a trail better for your passage through it by doing one piece of tail maintenance doesn't solve the problem but it helps. A Stoic would point out that this is a virtue, one of the things that they see as the core of their world view.

Even worse though, it leaves the way open to accepting fate and condoning things that you can contribute towards fighting. As Henry Gruber writes in an article in Psyche, "if you accept your fate joyfully, as a Stoic sage should, you’ll never try to change it." It's a small step to go from, "No matter how hard I try I can't guarantee my safety" to, "Why should I bother with safety precautions if I can't guarantee my safety?" Again, this is an aberation of their way because correct action, fulfilling your duty as a leader or as part of a team by planning comprehensively, is a virtue. You do it because it's the right thing to do.

It is, above all, a philosophy of "the strong willed"...

Seneca “For the only safe harbor in this life’s tossing, troubled sea is to refuse to be bothered about what the future will bring and to stand ready and confident, squaring the breast to take without skulking or flinching whatever fortune hurls at us.”

Marcus Aurelius “Tranquility…comes when you stop caring what they say. Or think, or do. Only what you do.”

Epictetus “Circumstances don’t make the man, they only reveal him to himself.”

Certainly there are a lot of caring epigrams from Stoics, especially from the ex-slave Epictetus, because caring is a virtue but this type of hard-nosed independance is what Stoicism is best known for. There are no half-measures here, it's the stoic ideal or failure. Modern society is built around inculsiveness and yet, in ancient stoicism at least, there is no attempt to allow for variables. Being self-contained and self-sufficient is all well and good if you are a high achiever but especially if we approach adventure as a way of developing and expanding as an individual, it doesn't encourage those who aren't.

Practitioners of modern Stoicism will point out that this is a shallow and skewed idea but it is an incredibly persistant one that needs to be addressed. Adventure is all about challenge, which carries the implication of success or failure and unplanned adventures such as survival situations, rescue attempts or war can often become critical situations where failure has dire consequences. Planned adventure theory steers away from this competative, binary, win-or-lose outlook and emphasises the achievement of at least making the attempt even if the goal is not reached.

Bottom line? Do your own research, I believe there's much of value in Stoicism but beware chiselled-chin, gung-ho types.

#adventure #stoicism #stoic

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

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The Weakest Link: Geto Suguru x F!Reader

synopsis: insecurity and doubt creeps into you in your first month as a jujutsu tech student, but somehow, Geto always seems to make you feel better

tw: sexual undertones.

words: 1,730

Excited conversation and sounds of merriment drift from under the other sorcerer’s doorways at Jujutsu Tech, but you stumble back to your room with nothing but the thought of a warm shower and hours of rest. Ache screams in your bones and joints, rolling down from your spine and settling into the base of your bruised tailbone.

It had been a month since you followed Suguru Geto down the dark alley and into a fight that left you speechless, more or less. Despite knowing all of this, you found yourself in Tokyo, looking up at the massive building in awe. He urged you to join the ranks, but you knew that fighting wasn’t your thing. It was obviously his thing and other people’s thing. But not yours.

Little red welts reminded you of that as you stripped down to your underthings, careful not to bump or touch any sore spots until you could reach the shower’s warm embrace. Geto had reassured you that every sorcerer went through training - every one of them had been broken for a good reason.

“It’s not for humanity’s sake,” he had mumbled through a rice cake. “It’s for our sake. We’re a family, and we are only as strong as the weakest link.”

It was a jab at your failure to procure any meaningful progress, but you pray that your breaking point is near, for your sake and Geto’s sake. The knob proves to be just as challenging to turn hot, and the feeling of failure washes over you with the freezing cold water from above. You can’t even turn a shower knob; how could you exorcise demons?

A strangled gasp escapes your lips as you sink to the shower floor in defeat. Giving up and going home seems like the best option. At least among your family and friends, you weren’t weak; you were just as strong - if not, more robust - than them. But here, you’re only as good as the humans that were outside of Jujutsu Tech. Which isn’t good enough.

After pressing your back against the cool tile, you feel the breeze of the A/C kick on and give you goosebumps. Whoever thought to put an air conditioner in the bathroom must have been an idiot, you muse, and give the knob one more effort, one more attempt to make the water hot.

“Ah!”

The knob gives with ease, turning the freezing shower into boiling lava. Your midsection takes the brunt of the heat as you hiss in pain, attempting to reach the knob again without more of your body being exposed to the stinging water. Once the temperature settles, you relax into the warmth and steam, sighing with contentment. You lather with lavender and vanilla soap, tenderly going through the motions of washing yourself and your face while the tender caress of the cotton cloth between your hands eases your aches. If only there was someone who could help you with the tension in your back…

Your mind flicks to a man’s hands for a moment, thinking of them trailing down your spine and pressing against your lower back methodically… thumbs pressing against the space between your neck and your shoulders with care. The phantom hands then wrap around your neck, tracing your vocal cords, soothing the raw and swollen lymph nodes before drifting over your shoulders and down your chest.

A slight moan escapes your lips at the thought of your body being catered to while the warm shower continues, lips pressing against your ear lobe and whispering something reassuring and comforting.

“Y/n… do you think about me when you’re alone?” The sound of Geto’s voice in your mind startles you back to the present moment, and instantly, you turn the water to a much colder flow. The cold snap helps you cool down, and the heat between your legs died down just as quickly as it began. When you finish, the towel you wrap around your body provides a comforting distraction to the thought of someone else touching you, smoothing their rough palms against your wet skin, breathing sweetly into your ear…

Stress. It’s the stress, you reason. It’s why you’re lusting after someone you don’t really know; someone who sees you as a friend and an ally. That’s all.

You push any and all thoughts of Geto out of your mind as you towel off and shrug on a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. With determination, you snatch up your mala beads and sit on your full-size bed, preparing to meditate. As your fingers roam over the beads, a gentle peace settles into your mind, leaving you with only one thought: Strength comes from within.

The mantra repeats itself with each bead that slides through your thumb and index finger until all you can focus on is the clicking noises and the occasional chatter of birds outside your window.

Strength comes from within.

You would endure, you decide. It’s not a case of discomfort or physical pain. It’s a matter of willingness and fortitude to continue down a path you set for yourself no matter the cost.

Strength comes from within. Strength comes from within. Strength comes fr--

A whisper-soft knock at your door breaks your trance. With hesitation, you slide off of the bed and wrap your beads around your left hand, sliding the door open without checking who stood there first.

Strength comes… from… where, again?

The raven-haired sorcerer who set you on the meditative path in the first place stands in front of you, leaning his prominent figure on the doorframe. At the sight of you without your uniform on and mala beads wrapped around your hand, Suguru steps back a little, running his black eyes across your figure once before tilting his head.

“Was I interrupting something, y/n?”

“No,” you respond quickly, noting his casual attire as well. “What’s up?”

“I texted you about dinner,” Geto straightens up, and you realize that the whole time you mourned about your lack of strength, you had neglected to even think about your stomach. As if it had been summoned, your stomach growls angrily like the third person in the room. Geto chuckles a little at the sound, his broad shoulders shaking under his shirt. “Sounds like you need something to eat.”

“Give me a second.” You shut the door and turn to find something more appropriate to throw on. As you changed into a pair of jeans and a less ill-fitting shirt, your mind fluttered to the idea of Geto bursting in and seeing you half-naked and--

“Stop it, stop it.” You hiss to yourself, jumping a little to button your pants. Despite feeling the familiar blooming of a crush in your mind, you set it aside to be dealt with later. This was not the time nor the place to have unrequited crushes; you had a purpose for being here, and it wasn’t to cozy up to someone who considered you to be family.

“Hey,” Suguru calls through the door, his voice making your stomach jump a little. You were taking too long.“Gojo and Shoko are coming too.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Your fingers are stuck in the mess you call “hair,” and the curls latch onto your fingers like snakes as you try to tame them. Against your better judgment, you had let your hair air dry, and now you were paying the price for not even running a brush through it. “Shit!”

“Are you… alright in there?”

“Jus-just a minute!” A moment of panic sets in as you attempt to control the frizz, but the curls defy your orders, only popping up again after you press them down against your scalp. No amount of bobby pins or gel could fix this. Your comb clatters to the ground along with the various-sized bobby pins, and as you stoop to hurriedly clean up the mess you made, you hear the door slide open. “Not yet, I--”

Through your thick mane, you can see Suguru’s feet shuffle into your line of sight. You push your hair back to observe his confused then understanding look, and he crouches down to help you, attempting to pick up the smaller bobby pins with his massive hands. It seemed impossible, but he picked up the little and the bigger ones with ease, depositing them back onto the porcelain counter with care.

“You should’ve asked for help, y/n,” Suguru murmurs, standing and holding his left hand out for the comb. You timidly place it into his hand and let him step behind you to gather the ends of your hair in his right hand. “It’s grown quite a bit.”

“You noticed.” The thought that he’s noticed your hair growing out from its short length to about mid-shoulder surprises you, and he looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, smirking.

“I notice a lot of things.” He doesn’t explain this statement, instead choosing to focus on combing your ends out before getting to the top of your head, gradually increasing his strokes down your scalp. “Do you want to put pins in your hair?” You answer the question by holding out two small bobby pins, and he places both between his teeth before pinning the left side of your hair down to your scalp. The other one tucks your bangs behind your right ear, and you marvel at the care he takes with his movements, careful not to scratch your scalp with the metal. “There.”

When Suguru finishes, he rests his hands on your tiny shoulders, waiting for you to approve of his work.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“You need to start asking for help during training. I’ve watched you struggle for a few weeks like you were struggling just now. It couldn’t hurt to ask the others for some assistance every now and then.” His words made you stiffen, and one of his eyebrows raised as if he was challenging you to tell him he was wrong.

“Well, I just--”

“I know what I said about the weakest link made you self-conscious. But you missed the point; all of us are linked. We can’t help you if you insist on doing this alone, got it?” You nod twice, feeling the insecurity and doubt whistle out of your body with each exhale.

“Got it.”

“Now, I’m absolutely starving, and I know you are. Let’s go.”

#jujutsu kaisen #getou x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #shoko ieiri #i know geto would help with any and all hair problems #because he's a hair guru #and a cult leader

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alorenawrites · 3 years

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On Words and Meaning

So I've been thinking a lot about how Loki is being discussed and the words used, particularly by Hiddleston, given his bent for using literary language in his descriptions. There are three words I want to touch on in this little post, one of them definitely rooted in his usage.

So the first I want to touch on is the term "romance." We've heard (often from Hiddleston), that Loki is, at heart, a romance. I think there's a dimension of the discussion missing in these conversations in that is important to consider.

To the layman, a romance is simply a love story, sometimes with a sexual undertone. But in the literary sense, a romance is a much deeper genre. I want to consider that this layer may also be present in Hiddleston's intent on using the term in describing the story arc. It certainly is in mine, as someone with a fascination with literary form and also with an English degree who has spent way too much time exploring genre.

So firstly, we need to define "romance." From literaryterms.net:

I. What is Romance?

In the strictest academic terms, a romance is a narrative genre in literature that involves a mysterious, adventurous, or spiritual story line where the focus is on a quest that involves bravery and strong values, not always a love interest. However, modern definitions of romance also include stories that have a relationship issue as the main focus.

II. Examples of Romance

In the academic sense, an example of a romance is a story in which the main character is a hero who must conquer various challenges as part of a quest. Each challenge could be its own story and can be taken out of the overall story without harming the plot.

Example 1

A knight who wishes to prove himself by recovering a stolen heirloom from an enemy may find himself attempting to make his way through a dangerous wood filled with thieves.

Once he has accomplished this challenge, he may find himself climbing a tall mountain on which a group of people are in trouble. He would save the group somehow, and then move on.

Then the final stage: the enemy’s kingdom. There may be a fair maiden whom he meets and somehow helps or rescues, or perhaps she helps him.

But the fair maiden is not the focus of the story – his quest is the focus. Each story can be taken out, yet each builds the hero’s strength to face his final quest. These stories tend to be serious rather than humorous and touch on strong values.

In considering this, I've thought about Loki's arc as a quest that does, indeed, involve the discovery and exploration of strong values with a three part quest, though I don't think the quests entirely stand on their own. The overarching theme is about Loki discovering his sense of self- his quest to become a full person, not just a trope for the universe to exploit so others can reach their better selves. I divide the show up in to three quests. The first, in episodes 1 and 2, is Loki finding a sense of purpose in the new world- his quest is to discover who this new variant is and where they are hiding. This is resolved by the end of that second episode. The second arc takes place in the next two episodes- Loki discovering his empathy for others is the continuation of the overarching personal development plot, while his quest is to discover Sylvie's goals and to uncover/share the truth behind the TVA. And in our third section, episodes 5 and 6, we get the culmination of the personal growth arc in his ultimate discovery of different facets of himself (illuminated by the different elements of self shown in the multitude of variant Lokis) while the quest is to uncover who is in control of the Sacred Timeline and why. The differences in colour palettes, settings, tones, etc. between the three episode pairings is a part of how I started to distinguish my thoughts on each. And regardless of the visual distinctions, I most definitely see the entire arc as exploring strong values and bravery, though the bravery is multi-layered, showing not only the visible bravery of facing down an apocalypse, Alioth, etc., but the internal bravery of challenging one's self and digging deep into discovering who one really is. This is a theme of queerness that I see lingering in this series- discovering who we are is a process, not an outcome.

I think that this definition of a romance, in the classical sense, is a little oversimplified, as there is often a theme of discovery of self or improvement of self along the way. In a Gothic romance, themes of "the people are the real monsters" come into play (Crimson Peak is an excellent example of this)- there may be elements of the supernatural, but the real thing of which the viewer/reader should be afraid is the person behind the curtain. Gothic romances also often do include a love story arc, but it is often deeply flawed on some level and often also includes some sort of sexual or romantic awakening, often by a female lead, that leads to the discovery of whatever darker is taking place (Crimson Peak turns this on its head in that it is Thomas' awakening with Edith that leads to his turning point and Edith's realization that the Sharpe siblings are the monsters, not the ghosts in the hall). The themes of discovery of self, or of the fortitude of moral values, or of the journey of a person's development, play into both a Gothic romance and its foundations in a classical romance.

So. There's part 1 of this ramble.

On to part 2!

The next word I want to examine is the term "relationship" and its companion, "love." Now, mind you, I come at this from a queer perspective as a demisexual, demiromantic individual, so these two words are ones I've spent a LOT of time pondering, in the quest to define my own identity.

We've heard the term "relationship" tossed around so often with only a romantic implication attached, but in truth, this word is so much more broad than this. You are in a relationship with your barber. You are in a relationship with your cat. You are in a relationship with a spiritual advisor, a professor, your best friend, your partner. Just because it is so heavily used in this way doesn't mean the relationship is only an intimate one (though intimate relationships are also not inherently sexual or romantic in nature, either, so let's remember this as well). Now if we break down what a relationship is, it's just a consistent interaction with someone based on some common interest or goal. It's a remarkably benign word. Its connotations, however, take it in a multitude of directions.

So let's look at it through the lens of an intimate relationship and add in the component of love. We'll start with just a blanket statement that love is not only one single thing. It isn't just romantic. It is our family, our friends, our pets, pie, the colour blue, that feeling of perfection when the waves of a warm lake brush over your calves...love is embedded in the experiences of these things. We love them. Love it as vast and broad as relationships. We love places, people, things, and experiences. We love ourselves (or we try to learn to).

In my world, through my particular brand of queerness, love changes in intimate relationships on a regular basis. I love my partner dearly. But on some days, that love is to my best friend, while other days, it is a romantic love and on others, sexual expression may be involved, but they may overlap in different ways. Sexual expression is independent of romantic attraction and the degree of each isn't tied together in any way. If we can separate these things, I think we can see the relationships in our everyday lives in different lights and with greater complexity.

I also think that looking at these things through the lens of diverse sexual and romantic experiences can inform how we interpret the Loki x Sylvie pairing and why some of us just aren't bothered by it (though certainly not the only reason people aren't).

We've been told Loki loves Sylvie. That much is beautifully clear. But love (and being in a relationship) doesn't automatically mean that 1) both parties are experiencing it in the same way, 2) both parties have the same approach or priorities, 3) the level of romance is necessarily the same between the people involved, 4) that sexual attraction exists at all.

Sometimes a kiss is a form of communication and not tied to the want to shag someone.

So this is where my interpretation of this particular pairing comes into play. I do see the story as a romance, in the classical sense, but also with a slight streak of the more modern sense involved. The focus is still on the quest, even when the love story emerges. And that is where I see the priorities of these characters and their definitions of the relationship differing and I analyze it through these different dimensions of love and relationship orientations.

Loki actually embodies one of the traits I've seen listed for demisexuals- we hold our friendships extremely close and because we hold our friendships the way we do, it isn't uncommon for us to end up with crushes on our best friends (and no, they don't generally develop into other forms of relationships, but they could). This is the phase in which I see Loki by episode 6. He has formed this intense bond, unlike any other it seems he's had, and his heart is breaking over the thought of losing her to her own rage. All he wants is for her to be OK, remember? This isn't a selfish action. But I think it is significant that while he tries to stop her, he's not the one who initiates the kiss. All his actions here are ones that a close friend would also do for their best friend. Like, I'd try to stop my besties from inadvertently destroying the universe. I'd even throw down over it. And for the exact same reasons- the risks are too great, we need to think, and I want them to be OK. Almost everything Loki does throughout his growing closeness to Sylvie is something I'd do for one of the people I've told I'd defend- as in, I literally told some of these people, "anybody messes with you, I'll cut a bitch- just tell me who and I'm there."

So because of all this, I don't see this relationship as sexual in any way. Romantic? Possibly. But not necessarily. Even being in love with one another doesn't mean a relationship has to have a sexual component.

Looking at Sylvie, I see her also as having found companionship with Loki, but her overriding goal is, ultimately, not to bond with someone- it's her mission. And she has sacrificed her entire life because of the TVA to this mission. She tells him repeatedly, in one way or another, that the mission comes first. Yes, she does care about him, but I don't think the way she cares about him is the same as the way he cares about her because they have differing priorities and needs (and hence why she feels betrayed by him when he tries to stop her). Or at least she hasn't allowed herself to express that. When she falls to the ground after she's killed He Who Remains, I think we get a glimpse of what Loki meant to her- she is alone, she grieves, and there is no meaning left to her story. She's done what she dedicated her entire life to and the person who could have given it other meaning is no longer beside her.

I still don't think that the first thing they would do upon seeing each other is suck face and have wild sex. Would that bother me? No, not really. I can headcanon something different than what actually happens, I'm fine with that (just look at all this glorious headcanoning happening right here!) I'd like it to stay a romantic friendship (queer platonic relationships for the win- they're squishes!) because I don't think we hardly ever see those types of relationships and queer platonic relationships are incredibly beautiful and powerful and yes, based on love and maybe even romance, in their own way. They are defined by the people in them, as are all relationships.

And now to address "but she kissed him!"

Yes, she did. And I've kissed my partner when there wasn't romance involved because I wanted to share a moment, to express something deeper than I had words for (yes, even on one of my aromantic leaning days), or just because it's fun. And it doesn't have to "match" up with how the other partner feels it, either, so long as the message itself is what comes across. This is how I read the Sylvie x Loki kiss. It was a message of worthiness. Loki's entire arc, including in that scene, is in discovering if he's anyone different than the monster he's made himself out to be (and encouraged others to see him as). He tells Sylvie that he can't be trusted, falling back on the habit of characterizing himself as the professional liar, the one who can't form those attachments which are built on trust. He also identifies her as someone incapable of trust in that moment, which I think is also a projection of how he sees himself. He tells Mobius he can only trust himself and the show slowly shows Loki coming to trust others, but in this moment in the Citadel, he's falling back on a different perception of himself.

This is where the kiss comes in, for me. Sylvie isn't trying to tell him she'd jump him right then and there, if things were different. Sylvie is trying to tell him that she does trust him, that he can be trusted, and that he is worthy of the affection of a friend, even if she can't have him in her way. She is prioritizing her mission, yes, but not without giving him some sort of reassurance, in her own way, that this rejection isn't personal. That he isn't too broken to be loved. It doesn't have to go into romance (not saying it couldn't, just saying it isn't a requirement). It doesn't have to go into sexual relationship territory.

Maybe I see this so vastly differently because of my experiences exploring gender, sexuality, and romantic orientation. Maybe I see this so differently because at this stage in my life, I would absolutely kiss a friend if I felt something so heavy was going to break them. I have a friend I say "I love you" to every time we talk on the phone or video chat- we've been together for 20 years. I've got photo proof of a snuggle pile of friends when I was a young adult. I've shared a bed with a friend with no reason other than that we didn't want to sleep on the floor and why not. I've had friendships that were awkward to start and intense once they got going that are absolutely still important in my life. I've had crushes on friends that have faded and just shown me another dimension of what it is to love someone. I've watched adults who struggle to make connections to other people discover those moments of awkward "how do I do friend mode?" and come out stronger for them, with that huge sense of victory hidden behind a small smile they don't want to share with anyone else quite yet.

I see so much possibility in how we interpret a television show reduced to "it's a romance and that's sick and incest and he wants to fuck himself!" and it just saddens me that so many people have such a limited understanding and experience of the depth and breadth of human relationships and of how people love one another.

#loki show #loki meta #thoughts on love and relationships #literary genre romance #loki and sylvie

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flightfoot · 3 years

Note

Do you think a lot of the problems with the Heroes of Olympus Series are caused by the fact that there wasn’t meant to be another 5 books? Like Korra after the first series there wasn’t supposed to be a second one and the writer/s was hurt by that fact?

No. Rick left the universe open for it, and the problems generally didn’t have to do with the transition from PJO to HOO, or from HOO to TOA.

Some of the issues were with Rick experimenting and taking risks. For some people they paid off, and for some they didn’t.

Like with attempting a third person writing style, or trying to juggle nine characters and their character arcs at the same time - that’s a LOT of plates to keep in the air. Or trying to have books 3, 4, and 5 all be sections of the same arc to the point that they felt more like parts 1, 2, and 3 of one MASSIVE quest. Which incidentally made it hard to keep track of for your average casual reader while the books were still releasing. It was easy to forget what had happened with all the characters when you were going over a year without thinking about them in-between.

These weren’t total failures, mind you. Rick was able to develop all 9 of those characters pretty well, giving them unique character arcs. It was just a lot to pack in.

There were some issues with some character arcs not working the way he wanted to though, judging by how there were some weird retcons to change. Most notably with Frank, with how he wasn’t all that useful or competent in Mark of Athena. In House of Hades it was revealed that Frank had had Ares and Mars screaming in his ears to kill everyone ever since they fled New Rome, making it difficult for Frank to concentrate. Considering that there was no hint of that in Mark of Athena, I’m pretty sure that was an Author’s Saving Throw to have an excuse for Frank not being more badass early on, and for him to suddenly get more competent once that was resolved (as well as impress readers with his mental fortitude).

I think the ending with the Giants battle was just something he hadn’t thought through properly. No defending that one, it was really weak. You can’t build up this massive battle for three books and then have it resolved within like, two chapters, and with very little detail. That one he just hadn’t plotted out well.

I actually like Gaea’s defeat though. I just find it hilarious, even if she didn’t end up being very menacing.

TLDR: Rick took risks with HOO by going outside his comfort zone, and not all of them fully paid off, but they rarely completely failed, either.

#asks #hoo #heroes of olympus #rick riordan

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symphonicdream · 3 years

Text

Call to Arms

Note: This drabble contains one instance of racism. In no way do I condone racism. So, here’s your warning against it. Read at your own risk.

For those involved, you are allowed to write your version of events that happen in this drabble.

----

There was no tear of paper to alert anyone of the portal’s presence. An alleyway was what greeted them as they exited through the portal. Kamijou Touma, Maira Espoir, Bowen Chuuno, Megumi Aino, the Hunter, Violent Violet and Melanie Sinclair all stood in the alleyway. The noise of people was considerably dampened, and she knew that they would probably be overwhelmed with the amount of people walking the streets at this time of day.

It was at least 8AM, Friday morning.

Melanie took the lead, taking them out of the alleyways and to the sidewalks. This was the shopping area of her town, and it was definitely something. Populated by various men, women and children of different sizes, colours and fashion tastes, some stopped to see watch the seven of them walk by. Touma’s misfortune manifested as him tripping over a cat and falling into a teenage girl. Said teenage girl punched him with the force of a scorned woman, causing him to shout aloud and draw more attention than they needed.

Of course, Melanie had to diffuse the situation and tell them that he was a foreign exchange student here to study English while ushering him away to the group. The remark the teenager said, though, had been something along the lines of a racist remark towards both her and Touma. She’d told them “You ching-chongs should just go back to China!” and stormed off.

Ouch.

Melanie ignored it and got Touma back to the group and continued their trek to the City Hall. It was where she’d been first summoned, and she would go back. To deny that spot entirely, and to face him down. It was quiet, save for some idle chatter from Megumi and Touma as well as Maira chiming in every so often. Bowen, the Hunter and Violet were quiet, which seemed different from what she knew of Bowen and Violet. The Hunter, though? She expected that from him.

But she didn’t expect that from everyone.

The trek to City Hall was waylaid by stoplights and crosswalks. Melanie had to drag Touma back onto the sidewalk before he got hit by a car, and then had to deal with the Hunter just crossing the street and holding up traffic. People angry honked while they crossed, and some cussed them out. All the Hunter had to do was look in their direction and they suddenly quieted down. The third time, the light somehow was green when it shouldn’t have been. Melanie pressed the light changing button but no sound emitted.

It was broken.

So, yet again, the Hunter crossed the street and held up traffic. There was even a Police Car. Melanie had to explain the situation and gesture to the light while traffic was stalled. It turned into the officer getting someone on the situation and letting them off scot-free.

However, the fourth time of street crossing got a bit dicey.

The light was green and it was okay for them to cross. Unfortunately, one of the cars almost hit Touma, screeching to a stop before they hit him and honking the horn.

“Get out of the road, asshole!” Came the voice of the driver.

“Right of way!” Melanie shouted back. “You’re running a red light!”

The driver got out of the car. A burly 6′0″ man with a shaved head and who looked like he got a chip on his shoulder. Immediately, he walked up to Melanie and shoved her, causing the group’s hackles to rise as they prepared for a fight. “You wanna go, you little whore?! Huh?!”

Melanie stumbled back from the shove, before gripping her fist tight and shouting, punching towards him but the fist never connected. In a near instant, the man’s body was blown backwards by the sheer force of the punch. Standing straight, she dusted her hands off and started walking again.

“Are you alright, Melanie?” Maira asked, concerned. Melanie nodded.

“That guy was a jerk.” Megumi commented.

“He nearly hit me with his car!” Touma was still a little shaken up by that.

At least the rest of the way there, which took an hour, was uneventful besides that. When they started to approach the City Hall, Melanie stopped walking for a few minutes. Staring at the building, looking at what it looked like. As if she’d never seen it before, but she had.

“This is it. This is where he resides. Let’s go... and stay close to me.”

They walked up the staircase leading to the automatic doors, with them sliding open and allowing them to walk inside. But Melanie knew where she was going, heading to the Administration Office. As requested, her friends did stay near her and watched as she opened the door.

The world around them faded away, replaced by the corridor she’d walked down not even a few days ago. She walked down it, and so did they. It was quiet, the sound of their footsteps the only thing they heard. The corridor seemed to stretch on, but Melanie gestured at Touma.

He reached out, touching the air in front of them with his right hand. Shattering it completely and forming the door only a few feet away. She walked forward, shoving it open and being greeted with the same greenery and waterfall that had been there when she last came here.

“I thought I’d cut off all avenues to this world. It seems I underestimated your pocket dimension.” Out of nowhere, a man clad in black appeared. His long pink hair was tied back in a ponytail and he seemed almost infuriated. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m here to reject your offer.” Melanie said.

“Nonsense. You’ll do as you’re told and take the seat. Become my bride as I have made you to be!” The man shouted.

“I’m not becoming anyone’s bride, shitface!” Melanie shouted back. “I’m not some doll you can pull around! I’m a human being, and I’m going to be free to choose what I want to do!”

“Melanie is not your toy!” Maira said, irritated.

“She’s our friend!” Megumi pulled out her PreChanMirror and Card.

The Hunter pulled out the red gun he usually wielded, training it on the man. As soon as he fired, the man vanished and appeared behind Melanie, kicking her in the back and sending her flying into the nearby clifface. She fell backwards onto her back, and turned over to get up but was covered by rocks except for her arms and head.

The battle began at that exact moment.

“Precure Rolling Mirror Change!” Megumi was surrounded by a pink light and changed into Cure Lovely. Immediately after, she called an attack, only to be grabbed in the face and tossed aside into the river nearby. Touma, too, was quickly taken out with a knee to the gut. The Hunter started to shoot at him again, firing with precision, but the man would disappear before any shot connected. Maira summoned a bright, glaring light, which stunned him for a few moments while Bowen also began to fire on the man.

It was clear, even with the help, they were outmatched. Violet went in to attack but he avoided it cleanly. “Hmm, even bringing a God Hunter...” The man seemed to already know about her, and that was shocking. “No matter, I am not a God, so your tricks will not work.”

The Hunter moved, sheathing the red gun and holding the golden, cylindrical casing to his chest. Melanie, who was struggling to get up from under the rocks on top of her, recognized what he was going to do. The familiar magic was starting up again.

“Soil is my power!” A circular part of the casing withdrew, extending out what seemed to be a drill. Long, black blades appeared shortly after and started to turn, creating a torrent of black wind. The Magun formed from the casing, from the blackened wind, and the man turned to face the Hunter. Unlike with the others, this was new. Noting his shocked expression, Melanie realized something.

Unlike the others, he couldn’t see to Wonderland. He knew nothing about the Hunter, nothing about what he could do. And that was their advantage. After the Magun had thawed, with the Hunter saying as such, he extended out a hand, pointing in the man’s direction. She remembered this clearly. He’d used it before during her tenure in Wonderland... The Magun.

“The Soil Charge Triad to use on you has been decided!” He reached into his belt, plucking a familiar Soil from its place.

“A bladestorm of bonds, Sword Viridian.” The bullet held a teal-ish green hue in its casing, and it was easily inserted into the Magun with a resounding Click.

Maira looked over, hazel eyes widened. “That magic-”

“The squall of fortitude, Kingdom Blue.” This bullet was a shining blue, as if torn from a kingom itself. It, too, was inserted into the Magun. Click.

“And finally... A prideful gale, Warrior Platinum.” The final bullet was a silvery-white colour, shining brightly as it was placed into the Magun. The final click resounded as the Hunter aimed at the man.

Melanie reached out a hand, finding a thread and gripping it tight. A tearing sound was heard and the man’s appearance faded away to show... a demon. With spiky, long horns and a muzzle for a mouth. It was as if the man was the Devil himself. A hellish roar echoed throughout the area, causing the ground to shake.

It was nothing short of horrific.

Cure Lovely pulled herself out of the river, getting to her feet. Despite being drenched, she yet again called forth an attack. The hellish monster opened its muzzle and shot out a stream of fire at her. It was quickly intercepted by Kamijou Touma, who blocked it with his right hand. The fire dispersed after a few seconds.

“Slaughter! I summon you, Knights of the Round!” With a bang, three colours flew from the barrels of the Magun, twirling and twisting as they flew. The Knights of the Round Summon the Hunter called forth seemed to materialize from the colours, and started their assault upon the hellish being.

Melanie finally got up, the rocks falling away as she did so. The being was avoiding the attacks everyone was trying to attempt on him. Even the summon’s attacks were being avoided. It was like a strange scenario in which the only winner would be the hellish being. She shuddered to think of what would’ve happened had she taken the offer.

But her friends were in trouble.

Melanie started to run towards the hellish being. There was no hesitation as she did so. Her skin started to glow.

“BALWYSIALL NESCELL GUNGNIR TRON!!!!!” She screamed, seemingly tearing her clothes off. But no, they only just vanished to be replaced by a quick transformation with Gungnir forming. She went to punch the hellish being but he avoided her as well. And then appeared in front of her, grabbing her by the throat and starting to choke her as he raised her up into the air.

Melanie couldn’t breathe, which meant she couldn’t sing.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of a clock ticking filled their ears. The world around them grayed out, and even the hellish being was surprised enough to drop her. Footsteps echoed throughout the area, and Cure Lovely was the first to speak up.

“Who-”

“How did you escape my timelock?” A voice asked. It belonged to a young woman, who looked to be about twenty-two years old. She had short black hair tied back in a half-ponytail and teal eyes, wearing a long dark blue dress and black boots. But the odd thing was, she looked almost like an older version of Melanie. The hellish being roared, but soon turned gray himself. The young woman walked up to the group, and looked at all of them.

“They call me Azem, the Traveler.” She said. “Time magic is... somewhat of a pain to use, but I’m getting used to it. Anyways, it looks like you need more help. Fellow Traveler, who are the friends you hold close to your heart?” Azem looked to Melanie, who lowered her head and closed her eyes.

“Why are you here?” Touma asked.

“I’m here to help my counterpart, of course.” Azem said. “The one born from the orchestrations of a deluded demon. She and I are cut of the same cloth. I can see a shard of my own soul within her.” A chuckle came from her, and she inclined her head. “So, Traveler. Tell me who are your friends you hold close to your heart.”

“......” Melanie nodded. “Yukine Chris, Kazanari Tsubasa, Kohinata Miku, Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel, Regal Bryant, Meteor Survivor and G’raha Tia.”

Azem laughed a little, before holding out an orange stone. “Here, Traveler. Use this and summon them forth to your side.”

Melanie took the stone, staring at it. She’d seen Meteor with this same stone once before. Hythlodaeus had given it to him, and he’d called them both New old friends. Was this because she, too, was a shard of Azem? The woman who called herself Azem smiled a bit.

“Call forth those you hold close and dear to your heart. Your allies of other worlds.”

Melanie closed her fist around the stone, holding it close to her. From where she stood, golden areas started to form. A glyph surrounded her, with eight circles that soon emitted light from them. Azem kicked the hellish being away, sending it sliding across the grayed floor. She stood straight again, looking at it before pulling out a claymore from what seemed to be thin air and assuming a fighting stance.

The lights dispersed one by one, revealing each person whose name Melanie had said before. But there was no time for introductions, as the world soon faded back to normal and the hellish being roared. Melanie handed the stone back to Azem, who pocketed it. The hellish being summoned forth demons of its own kind. There seemed to be many.

The song originating from Melanie’s Symphogear faded out, to be replaced with a different one. Chris, Tsubasa and Miku’s Symphogears did the same, once they summoned their Gears from the pendants they wore. A Unison.

One brings shadow, one brings the light Two toned echoes, tumbling through time Three score wasted, ten cast aside Fourfold knowing, no end in sight

“Let’s end this!” Melanie shouted.

The music gave way to the girls singing the song together. The hellish being roared and charged Melanie, who moved out of the way as fast as she could. Azem made a taunting gesture, causing the hellish being’s focus to be turned onto her instead. Provoking him to her. She pulled something dark out of her chest, letting it rise. A shadowy figure.

As the battle began, the sixteen of them split off into groups of four each, which meant each group had at least one Symphogear user with them. Swords swung, guns fired, magic was cast and punches thrown. Weapons were used without end, and the battle raged on without a seeming end. The Knights of the Round moved independently of the groups, helping decimate the demonic hoarde attacking them.

Melanie could feel power swelling up inside of her. She remembered this once before. Everyone could feel it. A swell of power from within them, from origins unknown. The groups fell back.

As if in the back of their minds, they all heard a shing sound. It was time to pull forth all their respective power and finish this off. Destroy this monster before it got any worse. It was like four Limit Break bars had filled up, and it was time to use them all.

A song resounded out, as if sung by all of them in their hearts. The Swan Song of the Valkyries, a song of Finé’s thoughts of causing the Curse of Babel. It resounded loud, though none of them were singing. The four Symphogear Users’ gears transformed into a different form of X-Drive. Their hair brightened with a gradient to it, and flared out. Wings made of fire expanded out, and they lost some of the clunkiness of the Gear.

Burning X-Drive. The one they’d used before, against Shem-Ha.

Glowing runes surrounded the group, and it was time.

LIMIT BREAK

The group rushed the hellish being, each one attacking with various weapons and spells. It was like a charge attack, with each person going after another. Each attack pushed the hellish being more and more towards the clifface that he’d thrown Melanie into. The Knights of the Round proceeded to pin him to it, and Melanie stepped forward.

She put both hands together, connecting the gauntlets and letting the spear form from it. She then pointed it towards the hellish being, in a form reminiscent of Elidibus during the fight at the Crystal Tower on the First. Her friends stood behind her, readying themselves for another attack.

“We are salvation given form!” Melanie shouted, and two ghostly hands placed themselves on hers. She knew who they were. Elidibus and Kanade, lending her a hand. How odd was it that an Ascian was helping her.

“Mankind’s heroes, and their final hope!” The words were foreign, coming out of her mouth, but this was true. The sixteen of them were the hope of this world. Even though they were from different worlds, they had all come together for this. Melanie delivered the final blow, empowered by her friends.

Piercing the hellish being with the cursed spear, Gungnir.

As if crumbling to dust, the hellish being lost form. Crumbled from his head to his feet, and was blown away by the wind. Melanie stood there after all was said and done, still holding the spear out. The ground rumbled and started to shake. The ceiling seemed to start to fall.

“We need to leave now!” Azem shouted. They all booked it to the door, leaving behind the battlefield they had fought on. Once outside and on the sidewalk away from City Hall, they watched as it crumbled to the ground. No one ever went there, but the people of the city stopped to watch the empty building crumble.

It was as if something changed. The world seemed to brighten up, and Melanie felt... lighter.

This was the beginning of a life orchestrated by herself alone.

Saying goodbye had never been her strong suit.

Melanie had opened fifteen portals, each pointing to different destinations. The worlds she’d brought them from.

One by one, they left. Each given a “see you later” by Melanie, who hoped to actually see them again. Once all fifteen portals closed after the respective person walked through it, Melanie was left with Azem. She looked to the Traveler and tilted her head to the left some.

“Do you need me to-”

“No. But before I go...” She held out the stone Melanie had given back. “I’ve learned all I can from the memories held in this stone. It’s time I passed it on to my counterpart, my fellow Traveler of the Stars.”

Melanie took the stone and put it in her pocket. “....Thank you, Azem.”

“See you again.” Azem turned away and walked off before seemingly vanishing into nothingness. Melanie was left alone, standing there on the sidewalk. She walked back towards the now-crumbled City Hall and felt no magic. It truly was over.

“So the imposter has been vanquished. Quite a feat.” The voice of the Overseer had Melanie on edge, immediately turning around to see-- a young man with long black hair and eyes that looked like they contained galaxies. Wearing just a plain graphic tee that had the Disney logo on it, slacks and velcro shoes. Nothing like the Overseer she’d seen before.

“Who--”

“I am the Overseer, Ryan.” The young man bowed. “The true Overseer. I assume this form is capable of being seen by you, as you addressed me.”

“Yeah, it is-- but why-- who--?”

“I am here to offer you the seat of God of this World. This will not change anything, though I will require you to come back every now and again. No staying away for years on end anymore.” He offered a smile. “And no, I will not be attempting to take you as my bride. You’ll find someone in your eternal lifetime, Melanie Sinclair.”

“....So, this means...” She didn’t know what it meant.

“If you take it, you will become a God. An immortal being, with powers unimaginable. And I would like you to take it, as you are the only mortal who can. The others ended up like...” He could only glance at the City Hall behind him. So, the false Overseer was a man who was once given said position? Melanie could barely believe it.

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I will wait until another few centuries. But I would like you to take it. You are compassionate, kind and do not kill without cause or reason. I did not orchestrate your birth like he did, but I have been watching. And you are currently the only one who can do this. I implore you-”

Melanie shrugged.

“At this point, I think it’s obvious if we leave it for someone else... That’ll happen. So yes. I’ll take it.”

Ryan chuckled just a bit and held out a hand. A pulse of energy emitted from it and went into her. For a few moments, nothing happened until Melanie suddenly clutched at her chest and groaned. It hurt. But she endured, and soon stood back upright. The Overseer smiled.

“Welcome to Godhood, Melanie Sinclair.”

Melanie gave a small smile. Nothing would change from here, she was just an ordinary girl with God powers now. It was just another Tuesday.

And things would remain as they were for her.

For the rest of her immortal life.

-----

@project-rebirth @tetsuwan-atom @rosecoloredmuses @kazeofthemagun @lunar-mage-mare @xbloodsoakedx

Thank you for allowing me to use your characters for this drabble!

Final Word Count: 3,701 words

#a story of might and magic ;; [ drabbles ]#tw racism #racism cw #this is it y'all. this is the full drabble.

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tales-of-asgardia · 3 years

Text

Loki's Knowhere, Chapter 2. Lost Fonts.

Asgard, the golden city in the Realm Eternal, in the early 13th century as the time was known to the mortals of Midgard, four prodigies of the old arts of sorcery and witchcraft studied. Lorelei, who above all else coveted power in all its forms, her older sister Amora, the most talented of Frigga’s class. Sigyn, with a sincere heart; and Loki, Odinson.

“Amora, I cannot express the greatness of which I do not wish to hear your pinings for my brother.” Loki pleaded to the sorceress with shining golden hair.

“Perhaps I might find the resolve to hold my tongue if my fortitude was not worn down by how grotesquely cute you and Sigyn were daily.”

Sigyn blushed, “Amora, I do not know what you speak of.”

“You refer to him casually as husband.” Amora stated.

“And?” Loki asked.

“You are not married, or betrothed...lest you have eloped to avoid the judging gaze of the Allfather?” Amora teased.

“We have not.” Loki replied.

Sigyn brought her hands to her cheeks, covering her flush, “Please, shush, her Majesty shall return soon.

“Sigyn, my sweet, most cherished friend, you are so very easy to tease.” Amora laughed.

[Scene transition.]

Several daggers flew across the table from Loki’s outstretched hand, Nebula dodged, but had to raise her arm to stop the third dagger from piercing her chest. She winced as the asgardian conjured blade burned at her cybernetics.

“The next one shall not miss your heart.” Loki declared.

Quill drew his twin blasters on Loki, “Yeah and mine will getcha right between the eyes.”

With the flick of her fingers, the seat below Quill flew up and slammed him into the ceiling and he fell with a hard thud.

Thor looked back to Nebula, “You...tortured Loki?”

“I am groot.” Groot whimpered.

“Under Thanos’s order, yes.” Nebula admitted, “He tortured everyone he could he could use but resisted his will. Including Gamora and myself.” She pulled the thin razor from her arm, tossing it on the table, “We were all his victims.” She said, looking at Loki.

Thor turned around, “Loki, I had no idea.”

“You never do.” Loki spat.

“We’ll leave, Loki.” Nebula said.

“I am groot?”

“Yeah, what about Gamora?” Peter asked.

Loki glared at Nebula, not trusting her eyes off her for even a moment, “I shall not be helping you.”

“There are other leads.” Nebula stated.

The cyborg daughter of Thanos was the first to step out, followed by Drax, Rocket took Groot’s hand. “I am Groot?”

Quill stepped out without a word.

“Uh, Thor?” Rocket asked.

“Sister, I…” Thor said, softly, conflicted. “I said I’d help them.”

Loki’s jaw trembled, “Go.”

Thor nodded, “Thank you, Loki.”

The Thunderer was leaving as Loki spoke up again, “Brother...don’t come back.”

Thor stopped in his tracks, his hand made a shaking fist, he replied, “goodbye, Loki.”

Loki held still, deady painfully still for a long long time. Finally, Loki let out her breath, tears rolling down her cheeks, “Thick oaf.”

Over the intercom a digital voice spoke, “Lady Loki, the hostile entities have left orbit and your throne has been replaced.”

Loki did not reply, she poured herself a goblet of wine, she headed deeper into the Collection, to her personal chambers, “Clear all scheduled events, I need...I need a lot of things.”

“Shall we compile a wish list, Lady Loki?”

“....No.”

Days passed into weeks for Loki, whose days consisted of day drinking on her throne, and the occasional approval of planetary defense systems as scavengers attempted to take whatever remained of the Collection.

She wore a green silky robe one morning as she sat awkwardly on her throne, lazily clipping her toenails, and munching on a bowl of grapes when the familiar roar of a bifrost bridge blasted outside the museum.

Loki jumped on her throne and glowered towards the sound, ‘Dense oaf, can’t follow the simplest request.” she muttered to herself, though despite all that had transpired she smiled softly.

All while you, Odin the protector of those Nine Realms, are sitting here in your bathrobes eating grapes.

“Oh shit.” She took a quick swallow of wine and stood up, glamoring herself, illusory light shifting her bathrobe into a green armored coat and matching boots, “Uhm, bumbum bah,” She adds fur to the collar of the coat, ‘Perfect.”

“Lady Loki, shall I engage defense protocols?”

“It’s fine, disengage all safety measures.” Loki quickly said.

As the door opened Loki put on an all serious face, “Even now you cannot listen to a word I say, dear bro-” Loki froze, seeing her breath, she closed her grip on a conjured dagger.

The figure stepped through the door and Loki threw the dagger but it was knocked aside, the figure raised their hand and waves of ice ripped through the throne room and blasted Loki against the wall.

“Foul monster, you dare invade the home,” Loki said, as the figure walked closer, “of Loki, child of...Laufey.”

“Hello, son.” Laufey said, grabbing Loki’s face by the chin and jaw.

Loki let out groans of pain, as her skin grew blue, shapeshifting into jotunari form to protect herself from the damage, she bit Laufey’s hand hard, drawing blood.

“Whatever trick this is, Jotunn, I am not fooled. I killed Laufey myself.” Loki stated, and strained against the icewall, “Now tell, who are you, why should I care, and why,” Loki struggled fruitlessly, “Why can’t I break out of this damn ice!?”

The Jotunn wearing Laufey’s face smiled, erupting into illusory light, revealing a powerful built Jotunn woman with icy blue skin and deep blue-violet hair in thick curls, “I am Utgard Angrboda, Queen of Jotunheim.”

Loki glowered, and sneered, “So, the frost giants finally decided on a new king of the rumble mound? And a witch at that. How many jotnar fell to the power vacuum left in Laufey’s absence?”

“None to succession, millions when the bifrost landed on our world and did not end until it bore into the planet’s core...disrupting rotation, and plunging my world into further ruin than Odin ever dreamed.” Angrboda spat, “My ascension to the throne was assured before our births, when Laufey propositioned my clan for a betrothed for his...child.”

“So what, you’ve come here to kill me?” Loki grimaced, “Wed me? I implore you, choose the first.”

“Neither, unfortunately.” She stepped away, pouring herself a drink from the bar, “I have come because I was assured of your capability, and to call on your debt to your own people. The Realms are in chaos, Yggdrasil sundered, the balance a distant memory...even if I save Jotunheim it would only be a matter of time until all is lost regardless.”

“Funny you should think a Jotunn of all things would know anything about maintaining the balance of the realms.”

Angrboda downed her drink, “Yes, you’re right, after all, only Nine, or was it Eight? No matter, only SOME of the realms have fallen under Odin’s protection.”

Loki grimaced, silently.

“The Balance of the realms has nothing to do with an Imperialist calm. Odin kept his peace in the realms but not true balance. He was it’s defiler, a murderer and thief. Odin stole the fonts of magic from all realms he could not control otherwise, the casket of ancient winters, the eternal flame, the mead of poetry. And in doing so he made the realms weak so he could seem strong.”

“Tell me, jotunn queen, why should I consider a word of what you’re telling me?” Loki asked.

“Because,” Called into the room a new voice, Loki looked to the door in disbelief. “She learned this from me, Loki.”

She walked into the room, with a wave of her hand, chains of light glowed and shattered over Loki, and the ice shattered, she fell to the floor on her knees, wide eyed Loki uttered in dear whisper, “Sigyn.”

Chapter 1 can be read here https://protector-of-mankind-thor.tumblr.com/post/632008264553463808/the-milano-slowed-as-it-entered-knowheres

#loki's knowhere #chapter 2 #thor #loki #guardians of the galaxy #knowhere #lady loki #mcu fanfiction #loki and sigyn #sigyn #angrboda #asgard #jotunheim

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thebiscuiteternal · 3 years

Text

“Once More, Again” Gen, Reincarnation, Yunmeng Reconciliation, Fluff and Angst, Creepy Frogs, Promises of Cats

__________

The night hunt wasn't supposed to be a big deal at all. A flock of possessed birds had scared a caravan of travelers away from their camps. A simple cleanup job, one that didn't really even need him.

Then one of his disciples comes running up in a barely concealed panic.

"Jiang-zongzhu, we have a... problem."

Coiling up Zidian to return her to her ring shape, Jiang Cheng scowls at the man. "What kind of problem? Is there another flock?"

"Ah- no... it's..."

A loud wail breaks through the trees, the source easily pinpointed as the small, dirty girl one another disciple is gently trying to shush as she guides the child into the clearing.

"That's our problem," the first disciple says, scratching the back of his head. "We found her in what was left of the camp, but none of the caravan members claim her."

"No one at all?"

"They say they have no idea who she is. She doesn't feel like she's connected to the birds, but-"

Scowl deepening, he goes to the child and crouches down. Surprisingly, she stops crying the moment she's aware of his presence. Scrubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she raises her head to stare at him.

He involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath.

The shape of her jaw and nose, the tilt of her brow, the spatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks, those are all different, but looking into bright silver eyes, he knows- he knows it can't be anyone else.

Sniffling quietly, Jiang Yanli reaches for the hem of his sleeve and clutches tight.

Little Meilin has been fed and bathed and safely ensconced in a veritable nest of blankets in the guest room closest to his own before he feels like he can breathe again.

Asleep and smiling, her hair shining from the oil one of the aunties had put in it, she looks like she has been living in Lotus Pier her whole life.

Or like she never left.

He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall.

No. No that's not fair.

He won't make her live in someone else's shadow. Even if she carries the same soul, she is Meilin, not Jiang Yanli and must be treated as such.

He briefly considers not telling Wei Wuxian. Wouldn't this fall squarely into that "past life" bullshit of his?

He sighs. Again, no.

Maybe it's a sign of weakness on his part, but he summons up a butterfly messenger. With a short succinct "A-jie reincarnated and is staying in Lotus Pier," he sends it off. He will contact Jin Ling properly in the morning.

---

"This better not be a trick, Jiang Cheng. That'd be low even for you."

Jiang Cheng freezes like he's been stabbed. He stares at the other man, looking for any sign of one of his usual bad taste jokes, but Wei Wuxian is pale and disheveled and angry and... oh. He really does think Jiang Cheng would lie about this to lure him back to Lotus Pier. After everything, he still...

He can't muster up any anger for this. He just feels tired all of a sudden, all the way into the marrow of his bones, and he doesn't want to be here anymore. "Liu Jiao will show you to her rooms," he says dully as he motions one of the maids who has been helping with Meilin forwards. Then he turns and leaves without waiting to see what kind of reaction Wei Wuxian has to that.

He's fleeing and he knows they can tell and he can't bring himself to care.

He tries to throw himself into work as a distraction, but quickly finds he can't concentrate for shit. After his fourth failed attempt at penning the necessary letter to Jin Ling, he decides he might as well give up.

Pointedly avoiding both Meilin's room and the area where he'd left Wei Wuxian and his ever-glowering husband, he heads out to one of the lesser-used piers. Workers gathering the autumn flowers wave in greeting, but thankfully give him space, and he settles in to watch and hopefully not do too much thinking.

---

It's nearly sunset and he's starting to doze a little when the pounding of tiny feet against the planks of the pier startle him fully awake. A giggling squeal of "Cheng-ge!" is all the warning he gets before his lap is suddenly full of squirming child.

"Cheng-ge? Who's Cheng-ge? Are we so familiar, now?" he chides with no actual bite at all as he flicks a button nose and her grin only gets even bigger. "Someone's been teaching you cheek, A-Lin."

"Can't possibly imagine anyone who would dare."

The flinch is entirely involuntary and he tries to smooth it over, but little fingers dig into his robe and he sees worry flicker over those bright eyes.

"Cheng-ge?"

"It's nothing," he says, patting her hair, then braces himself and looks up. It catches him off guard again to find Wei Wuxian watching him with a look of regret... maybe even apology.

"Mind if I sit?"

"Whether I say yes or no, you will anyway, so I might as well say yes." He'd intended it to come out sharp, the retaliation that he hadn't been able to manage earlier, but has much less heat and much more resignation than intended. Maybe it's because of that change that Wei Wuxian actually hesitates.

"If you want me to go-"

Leaning out of his lap, but refusing to get up or let go of his robes, A-Lin reaches out and tugs on Wei Wuxian's trousers in a clear demand.

Well... Maybe some things don't change, he thinks, rueful smile mirrored on his former shixiong's face as the latter obeys and kneels down beside them.

They sit in awkward silence, bound together by tiny hands holding a vice grip their clothing, until croaking songs begin ringing out from near the water and A-Lin perks up.

"Frogs! Cheng-ge, Xian-ge, can I catch one?"

He expects Wei Wuxian to automatically take over and say yes, but when he turns his head, the other man is just... watching him again.

He shakes it off and taps A-Lin on the forehead. "Boots off and let me tie up your skirts. If you get too muddy, the maids will throw you in a bath before they'll let you have dinner."

The girl wrinkles her nose, then nods and begins wrestling off her left. Practice born from another very squirmy child lets him work easily around her efforts, and she is shortly running off, laughter ringing behind her.

"You're... good with kids."

He scowls at Wei Wuxian. "That would be more of a compliment if you didn't sound so surprised," he says flatly.

"Ah." Wei Wuxian has the barest grace to look embarrassed, turning his gaze to the planks under him as he scratches his cheek. "Well... when I first met Jin Ling, he was such a brat, and then when I thought of who raised him-"

"Seriously not helping your case."

"Ugh, would you let me finish? Anyway, it turned out he was a good kid under all the thorn brambles. Which, again, considering who raised him-"

He really doesn't have the mental fortitude for this right now, he decides. Biting the inside of his cheek, he starts to get up, but a hand gripping his wrist stops him. "Wei Wu-"

"Please."

He squeezes his eyes shut.

Then he sits back down.

The hand on his wrist doesn't let go, and when he forces his eyes back open, Wei Wuxian is staring at that point of contact between them, thumb brushing absently against one of the tendons in an old familiar gesture. "When I got your message, I almost passed out," he finally says. "I was so afraid to let myself believe it. I thought I couldn't possibly be lucky enough for it to be true. I know I don't deserve for it to be true. I convinced myself you had to be lying, because somehow that actually hurt less than the possibility she was really here."

Jiang Cheng swallows back the pain that swells in his chest. His mouth tastes bitter. "Still not helping your case," he mutters.

But he still doesn't pull himself free.

Wei Wuxian laughs, the sound small and pained. "I know, I know."

"I did what you wanted," Jiang Cheng snaps, unable to stop himself. "This whole year, I-"

"I know." The grip on his wrist tightens and Wei Wuxian inhales shakily. "You did nothing to deserve it and I thought the worst of you anyway. I'm sorry."

He doesn't know how to respond to that, but he's saved from having to figure it out when a tiny figure stumbles along the docks, soaking wet and clutching one of the biggest lake frogs he's ever seen, short of a frog demon. "Did you fall in?" he asks, getting up again. "You look like a drowned-"

"He knocked me over! Look how fat he is!"

Big shiny eyes blink at him from the nest of her arms, then the creature makes a croak that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Maybe it is a frog demon.

A baby one, or something.

Wei Wuxian looks similarly nonplussed when he joins them, eyeing the frog with clear discomfort. "Eh... meimei, maybe you should let that one hop on home, yeah?"

"Aw, but he likes me!"

It does indeed seem to be very comfortable with being cuddled, which doesn't improve his opinion of it one bit. "We'll let someone look it over while you're In your bath," he says, subtly elbowing Wei Wuxian when it looks like the other might argue.

Fortunately, the other man catches on and nods. "Have to make sure he's nice and healthy."

"Okaaayyy."

---

"This is the creepiest thing I've ever seen."

Jiang Cheng can't argue with that, especially since the frog he's now definitely sure is some kind of demon is becoming creepier by the moment. Already, Wei Wuxian' prodding has caused it to turn from brown to a vague shade of greenish-purple and belch smoke.

When it opens a third eye, Lan Wangji has apparently had enough. "It should be exterminated," he says, starting to draw Bichen.

The frog hisses.

Hisses, showing off rows and rows of very un-frog-like fangs.

"Oh, fu-"

---

"Where is QiaoQiao?"

"You named it-"

"Escaped," Lan Wangji cuts in before Wei Wuxian can finish boggling at the choice.

"Yes, it escaped," Jiang Cheng says, mentally refusing to acknowledge that they agreed on the excuse. A-Lin pouts, and he gently ruffles her still-damp hair. "You can chase frogs any time you like, you know."

"But QiaoQiao was special."

That's... one way of putting it, he thinks as he tries not to shudder. "Why don't we find you something else special? What other animals do you like?"

"Hmnh... I like cats?"

"We can do cats. We'll find you the best cat," Wei Wuxian says, clearly relieved to hear no mention of dogs or more frogs.

Jiang Cheng allows it.

A loud rumble, far too loud for the tiny body that makes it, cuts into the conversation, and A-Lin hugs his sleeve to hide her face going bright red. "'m hungry," she mumbles into the cloth sheepishly, and he can't help the smile that tugs at his mouth as he crouches to scoop her up onto his hip.

"I think we're all hungry. Let's go see what the kitchens have in store for us tonight, hm?"

---

Having already seen A-Lin eat once already, Jiang Cheng takes more than a small amount of enjoyment in watching Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji openly stare as she inhales a fifth meat bun without chewing or coming up for air.

"What are you, a snake yao?" Wei Wuxian asks when he remembers how to work his jaw.

She puffs her cheeks at Wei Wuxian in an adorably offended huff. "I said I was hungry."

"No shi- kidding," Wei Wuxian quickly amends when Jiang Cheng glares. Then he grins. "How do you feel about spicier food?"

"You are not corrupting her with your chili oil addiction."

"It's not an addiction-"

"I wanna try. Can I try?"

His first instinct is to say absolutely not. But two pairs of eyes are giving him the soulful pleading look, and he sighs and fights the urge to roll his own. "Fine. But only a little," he says, picking up the bottle himself because Wei Wuxian wouldn't recognize the concept of "a little" if it bit him in the ass. "Chew this time."

"Well?" Wei Wuxian asks as she swallows the bite.

"It's okay."

He resolutely does not smirk at his former shixiong's crestfallen expression.

"Only okay?"

"Hot is good, but smoky is better," A-Lin pronounces with all the gravitas of a trained food expert, and both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian can't help grinning at that.

"Everyone's a critic," Wei Wuxian says as he elbows his husband, who has a sleeve over his mouth in a clear attempt to pretend he's not been charmed as well.

Jiang Cheng is absolutely not smug about that.

---

"So, what are you going to do?"

Dessert is long gone, Lan Wangji has retired to bed, and the three of them are left sitting in the main hall, A-Lin clinging to his robes with honey-sticky fingers as she sleeps.

"We'll put out word, but unless someone comes to claim her, she'll stay here." Wei Wuxian continues to stare at him with that inscrutable expression, and he finally sighs. "I'm not going to turn her into A-jie. Past lives should stay in the past, remember?"

Wei Wuxian flinches and looks away.

Good.

The silence stretches long again, then his former shixiong huffs quietly. "I don't..." he starts, then licks his lips nervously and changes whatever tack he was about to take. "How are you planning on raising her, then?"

He gently pets long hair, and A-Lin responds by burrowing against his chest and shoving her face against his collar. "To figure herself out. If she wants to cook, if she wants to cultivate... hell, if she wants to make a living catching frogs, that's up to her. She's already put in her duty to this family."

"Good. That... That's good."

Still petting soft, fine hair, Jiang Cheng considers his next words carefully. "Until she's old enough to travel easily, you know she's going to demand visits from her Xian-ge."

Wei Wuxian stiffens and his head snaps up. "And... you... You're okay with that?" he asks, a faint glimmer of something akin to hope in his expression.

"At least until you deliver that cat you promised," Jiang Cheng says dryly. "I'm holding you to that. In writing, if I have to."

"You would," Wei Wuxian replies, rolling his eyes, but there is no missing the relief in his posture.

Nor the loss of tension in the room.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #sort of #fanfic

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pfreadsandwrites · 4 years

Text

Acquiescence (Part 3/3)

AO3 LINK AND AUTHOR’S NOTES

warnings: angst, fluff, third-person, unnamed female character, 1400+ words

part 1/ part 2

iii. reunion

All the waiting and its anguish is rewarded, and they can both breathe.

Dawn rolls in, though she barely notices. All this time, sat under the windowsill, dragging her legs out then retracting, hugging her knees like a child, feels stagnant. She gave up trying to sleep; experience reminds her that she doesn’t have a hope in hell of that. She never does on nights like tonight. How could she? When they’re all out there, when he’s out there - as excruciating as this is, she knows she’s still the luckier one, if either of them can be considered so.

That’s right. You’re lucky. She’s careful to remind herself, even as her fingers tremble. Even as her lips quiver and her eye sockets ache. Even as watching as nobody at all, nobody, absolutely nobody approach their pathway home, has her heart palpitate so loudly that she thinks it might burst. But still. All you have to do is wait. That’s her duty too, she knows that. And she’s willing to take on her own to accompany his, small as it seems by comparison.

Duty. She doesn’t know what to think about that word, not tonight. It’s a chain on her neck. It demands some people’s lives, or other commensurate sacrifice, and demands others’ acquiescence. Endurance, without reward, or any that seems worthwhile right now.

Shinobi means one who endures.

Kakashi’s words float from the recesses of her mind so clearly that she thinks she just heard him. Almost. He’d said them far too eloquently (and far too indifferently for her liking), in an academy induction speech she’d sat in on. The children had been too excited to take much heed to his words, for which he’d been hesitant - though they weren’t as relevant to them anyway. They won’t grow up like he did, she’d reminded him. He’s suffered enough in their place to ensure that.

One who endures, the words echo again. If there’s anyone who epitomises that, it’s him. His stoicism, resilience, emotional fortitude, whatever you want to call it - it amazes her, she’s not so shameless as to try and deny it. Not when she’s grateful for it, when it’s anchored her. And she knows how crucial it’s been in his work, for the village, how it keeps it falling apart. How it’s kept him falling apart. But there’s a part of it that hurts too. How much he takes it for granted, how normal it is to him, how he just smiles and brushes it off. And she just lets him.

Because, she remembers, with an inhale so sharp that it’s almost a hiss, shinobi don’t have a monopoly on endurance.

(What the hell is this, what the hell is she doing right now, what the fuck is this, if it’s not enduring?)

Either way, neither have it in them to demand acknowledgement, let alone a reward.

After one final, fruitless peek through the window, she gives up. For now, at least. She’s looked through it more times than she wants to admit. With a sigh, and the reticence she prides herself on, that she’s learnt from him, she drags herself up. The natural light is something akin to solace now, at least. It resonates with the warmth inside her, that, as she provides her energy for it to grow, it provides her with the strength and semblance she needs. Maybe even optimism.

(There’s a part of her that hopes, silly and ridiculously sentimental as it is, that something in her - just as there’s something in him - that makes it all worthwhile for them both. That makes him forget he’s spent his life this way, as a tool. An honourable and esteemed tool, a tool that’s saved countless lives, but a tool nonetheless.

Love, home, family - it’s egregious to think of it as a reward, and not a prerequisite. But for a self-described tool to accept it? It’s a miracle. So she won’t doubt it any longer)

Because positivity feels easier now - it’s embarrassing how sudden it is, how sudden it always is - when she feels a familiar chakra approach and the front door creaks open. Green, that’s the colour she’d give it. Determined and withstanding, like moss is. It pulls her back to earth, even as her negativity drags her down, and sometimes even when her dreams fly her too far up. It’s grounding, a soothing, eternal support that doesn’t quite efface everything from tonight, but makes it easier, much easier, to disregard it. She’s already rushing to him, after all.

He closes the door behind him and slips off his shoes in the same, lazy movement. It’s typical, that he brushes it off like that, pretending that he’s only come back from saving everyone (again), only putting his life on the line (again), but she can hardly complain. Not when he’s back alive. When he’s safe, when she’s safe.

“I’m home,” Kakashi says lightly. Too lightly, she thinks, as she takes quick note of the dirt-speckled silver hair, the blood on his uniform, the tears in his sleeves. Too lightly. But though his eyes are worn, the crinkles that etch into their corners are a dead giveaway to how big his smile his under that damn mask.

His voice is husky, and though the exhaustion that laces it is obvious, there’s a comfort, a warmth behind it. A relief. A relief that compels her to his side in an instant. He’s alive. It’s all she can think as her inhibitions dissipate - to let him rest, to check if he’s hurt - and she wraps her arms around him.

He chuckles - partly in surprise, partly to mask the grunt that escapes as she presses against the bruises - and returns her. Suddenly, it’s easy. It’s easy to embrace her, breathe her in with the desperation a hypoxic breathes oxygen. She grants him permission to accept the lethargy - not just from tonight and its fights, but his entire life - and sinks into her affection.

(She’s too kind, this is too big of a burden, he knows it, but he can’t fight everything all the time. Especially not her.)

“Welcome back,” she whispers; a delayed response, but better late than never. She wishes she can sound as unfazed as him. But her voice is shaky, and she can’t maintain her composure like he can. Not in front of him, anyway.

(He doesn’t tell her that her inability to do so is more of an anchor for him than his ability ever could be for her, despite what she thinks.)

She trembles against his chest, and though she’s careful to muffle the sounds, the dampness that mixes now with the sweat and dirt on his clothes doesn’t escape his notice. Kakashi hesitates. Other times he’s quick to comfort her, even in his limited capacity - but tonight, he doubts even that. The proof right in front of him that she suffers as much as he does. That it’s at his hands leaves him all the more helpless.

So he ducks down, murmuring apologies and gratitude into her hair. It’s all he can do. He’s lucky that she endures it at all.

“I’m sorry-” she begins, attempting to find her equanimity, and Kakashi thinks his heart might burst. Like her as it is to apologise despite being the wronged one, it isn’t easy to accept. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Sorry to worry you.” At least he can say it, even if it’s not enough to assuage her pain or his guilt. But still, somehow, she looks up and smiles that genuine, selfless smile. So he can’t dwell on his shortcomings too long. “I should probably shower first. But you look about as tired as I do. Let’s go upstairs.”

She agrees, and pulls at that damn flak vest first. He lets her. She unzips it gently, the motion reminiscent of a more seductive scene that’s happened too many times, but something even more intimate replaces it now. She drags it off his broad shoulders and it slides off his back, dropping onto the floor unceremoniously. The characters for six and fire strike him, still demanding his attention for a split second - but this time, he refuses, and pays it no mind. They melt into the surrounding blood on the fabric instead.

Hokage, Lord Sixth, honourable, hero, and finally, shinobi - the words wash off his back just as easily as the clothes slip off. Fading further, vanishing somewhere far behind them until neither can see it anymore.

The chain on his back loosens and lifts, even if only temporarily, and he breathes a little easier now. They both do.

Just for a little while, but it’s enough.

For now, it’s enough.

#kakashi #kakashi x reader #naruto #kakashi fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #kakashi hatake #pfwrites #welp this won't show in the tags either most likely?

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mineshaft-birdie · 3 years

Note

omg after seeing ur recent post for devil muriel I gotta ask, what are the dets for zora and devil muriel. I want moreeeee! 😳😳😳

I have a 4 page google doc about the play by play of their relationship progression so I’ll try and shorten it for this. After talking about my hcs with @apprenticing, I made a lot of mental changes to their story.

- In any reversed end she’s in, Zora has communication issues. She infantilizes her S/O and tries to handle all of their problems herself.

- This reared its head when she came up with a plan to defeat Lucio by temporarily binding herself to him. It might have worked, too, had she told Muriel ANYTHING. She overestimated his trust in her and, not long after, Muriel took Lucio’s heart and his place as The Devil.

- To Muriel, Zora was sacrificing herself for him. Something he didn’t feel he was worthy of. He trusted her but he felt she was doing something irreversibly stupid.

- After Muriel ate Lucio’s heart, Zora was transported to The Devil’s realm along with him.

- Even though the succession process is magical, I HC that the alterations to the body are ungodly painful. That being said, there was a lot of blood as Muriel's new horns and teeth grew in.

- As she was blocking out Muriel’s screams, she was questioning her entire worldview. Luckily, she kept it together just enough to understand that she couldn’t show any weakness. Whatever force was causing Muriel such pain surely wouldn’t leave his mind unscathed.

- She was right.

- The traits of The Devil had immediately entrenched themselves into his personality and she could barely catch a of glimpse of the person she knew.

- From that point onwards she was focused on getting out of there.

- Zora also made it clear that she would do everything in her power to piss him off. It wasn’t that hard to do either. She just had to tell him the truth.

- “I love you, but I could live without you.”

(This feels long so more under the cut)

- From the start, the specific wording of her deal with Lucio made it so she could leave if specific criteria were met.

- Muriel knew that, so he did all he could to fortify the realm. Not to keep anything out, but to keep Zora in. He knows personally how crafty she can be with her magic. He also felt that, with enough time, she’d come around.

- His actions were in direct conflict with Zora’s core trait of wanderlust, though. She absolutely cannot remain in isolation. It causes the brain to atrophy and no amount of comfort Muriel could provide would change the fact that she already was deteriorating.

- Zora’s magic is the art of construction and deconstruction. Breaking things down, be it household objects, magical formulas, or concepts, and transforming them into something similar but fundamentally different.

- For example, Zora transformed the ledger in Asra’s shop so that it could do the math itself for @apprenticing‘s Erin. She basically made a magical excel sheet.

- This ability, however, is solely tied to her mental fortitude. Should she lack the proper mental stimulation(i.e. taking in new information by TALKING TO DIFFERENT PEOPLE), her magic wouldn’t have anything to deconstruct. It’s a bit like how the body processes energy. If one fails to provide external nourishment for the body, it’ll take it from the internals.

- There’s some crucial lore about her backstory I don’t wanna reveal yet, but nothing he had within his realm could’ve save her body form devouring itself. So Muriel found himself pushed into a corner, let her go and potentially lose her forever or leave her as is. The latter would be easier for him in the long run because she’d become a doll. Less work for him.

- At this point, he had already attempted to act like the ‘old’ him for her. He’d been ‘nice’ and ‘understanding’ and ‘patient’ as she looked for a way to save him(that magical attachment hits hard). Still, there came a point where he could tell she saw through his act. He could only push her so far without her hating him. He knew that there was a growing chance that she would get out of there. Her magic eating away at her mind would’ve been a saving grace. But he loved her too much to see her lose herself in that way.

- Instead, he chose the third option and made her his Thrall. This bound her to him in body and soul.

- She didn’t take it very well.

I’ll get into the Thrall portion of everything in another question since this is already a lot for me -_-. I wanted to get the(most) lore heavy stuff out of the way for now.

The specifics of Zora’s magic can get a bit confusing so feel free to send a follow-up question if there’s something I need to elaborate on!

#Guess who learned how to use bullets after she finished writing this #GUESS #zora the arcana #devil muriel #thrall zora #ask #anonymous

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ereborskingarchive · 4 years

Text

❝ […] but fíli is the youngest and still has the best sight , ❞ said thorin . ❝ come here , fíli , and see if you can see the boat mister baggins is talking about . ❞ ————— chapter 8 : flies and spiders , page 143 .

[…] a young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc . his armor rent , wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield . blow after blow the orc delivered upon this branch , ‘til one such powerful swing drove it back into the prince’s head , sending him down to the ground … ————— the hobbit : an unexpected journey . peter jackson .

dwarrows , with their preference to remain underground in the darkness¹ of their mountains where , in such subterranean conditions , little light reaches the eye , are more short-sighted than any other race in the middle earth . whereas elves can look across great distances , dwarrows can see very fine details when anything is brought close to their eyes , an ability that lends itself to the unmatched workmanship that they are able to achieve with their craft . the short - sightedness of dwarrows does not hinder them much² , and while it becomes less easy to see far away with age , they are otherwise unaffected and unaware of any difficulties . their architecture and ornamentation , comprised of straight lines , large , prominent statues , stamped patterns , deeply embedded runes , and embossed beads are aspects that reflect this small lacking in their sight and ensure that the dwarrows do not need perfect vision to navigate through their realm ( flat decorations are rarely seen , if made at all ) nor would they need eyesight by itself to be able to relate to their adornments that are as physically representative ( able to be perceived through contact ) ( i . e . the rune - stone received by kíli from dís is meant to be felt as much as it to be looked at ) as they are visually³ .

rare is it that a blow comes down hard enough to cause a dwarf any lasting harm , but when fighting azog the defile during the battle of azanulbizar ( 2799 of the third age ) before the gates of khazad-dûm ( moria ) , a swing of azog’s spiked mace causes the oaken branch that thorin wielded to strike backwards into his head . he falls to the ground , having received a severe enough hit to permanently deteriorate his eyesight further than what is usual for a dwarf . his sword cutting off azog’s arm instead of his head is a result of this , because he could no longer see clearly enough to translate the abruptly indistinct appearance of his foe , nor was he able to see azog carried into khazad-dûm alive.

the initial adaptation was difficult the more it deteriorated , but additional practice and training , along with a heightened hearing ( he has become particularly adept at hearing and recognizing sounds and when certain people are speaking ) , has him able to participate in battle with as much skill as any other warrior ( instead of direct assaults , thorin tends to twirl with his weapon as a means to make sure that he strikes his enemy and does not fall short because he could not aim as precisely ) ( i . e . this form can be seen most notably during the escape from the goblin tunnels )⁴ . his eyesight is not so far gone that he cannot recognize shapes and surroundings , albeit distorted or faint depending on the distance between him and what he is looking at . around one to two meters is as far as he can see without having any problems , but this depends on how well - rested he is , and the distance is oftentimes less than that . thorin can see up close as crystal - clearly as his fellow dwarrows . seasons passed , and he adjusted to being able to take in less than others , not thinking much on it save for when journeying required someone with sharper eyes than his ( the distortion is not so great that he cannot commonly make these journeys by himself , which he usually does ) . his instincts serve him well and make up for what he lacks in his eyesight . save for a few strange instances that may cause the dwarrows that do not know of his disability to scratch their heads⁵ , balin , dwalin , dís , fíli , and kíli are aware and do their best to support him without tramping upon his position as leader .

amidst the mourning for the losses sustained during the battle of azanulbizar , which claimed the lives of thrór , thorin’s grandfather , and frerin , thorin’s younger brother , and resulted in the disappearance of thráin , thorin’s father , his eyesight was not forefront on his mind , and was not so for awhile . indeed , it took nearly a year before he realized the change , though others around him, namely his training partner , dwalin, and vili , fíli and kíli’s father , noticed earlier, and kept a close guard around thorin . he moved on without taking a moment to grieve it, working himself nearly to the end of his fortitude to regain the skills that had left him in the wake of this disability . he neither cursed it , nor cared so little about it that it did not make him brood , nearer and nearer to thinking himself so much lesser than his forefathers . it was a weight set atop so many others , another strain upon the dimming of his mind’s wellbeing , but one that he had no choice but to bear , even if it snuffed him out .

thorin fumbles now and then , frequently enduring humbling mishaps and pushing on regardless without letting himself or the other dwarrows take much notice . he is determined to still perform his role to the greatest of his abilities , and does not slow simply because he cannot see the path as clearly . he knows it is there , and that is enough . he will make it enough .

𝑬𝑿𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑼𝑪𝑯 𝑶𝑪𝑪𝑼𝑹𝑹𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑶𝑾 :

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒕 , 𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚 : i . he arrived late to bag end because he could not see the mark that gandalf had left upon bilbo baggins’ door , which resulted in him becoming rather off - track . he walked up and down bagshot row twice before , on the third attempt , he drew close enough to see the mark . ii . instructing balin to lead the way when they journeyed out of rivendell was partly because balin knew it , and partly because it was unfamiliar enough that thorin did not trust himself to lead the company with his disability and the steep fall on one side⁶ . iii . in the misty mountains , during the battle of the stone giants , thorin’s eyesight was shortened considerably with the heavy rain - fall , and he could not see whether it was fíli or kíli beside him when they were separated from half of the company . as indicated by the film’s subtitles , he does incorrectly call for kíli , mistaking fíli for his brother . iv . thorin does not realize that bilbo is not with him when they make it out of the goblin tunnels because he simply could not see well enough to notice he was not there ( one of two such accidental occurrences , and not because he disvalued bilbo’s safety ) . v . it cannot be . thorin says this in the tree because , until azog the defiler speaks , he cannot see that far away to ascertain whether or not it was truly him and not a different orc . vi . azog the defiler’s warg bringing thorin to the ground that may look like bad form on thorin’s part , but when the warg leapt in the air , thorin could no longer tell for sure where it was in front of him , and by the time it was close enough for him to see it , it was too late , and he had charged too close . vii . when the orc approaches to cut off his head , thorin cannot reach orcrist partly because of the harm he sustained, but also because orcrist’s shape was too distorted for him to grab it without missing it ( his hand tries in vain anyway ) .

𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚 : i . the ending scene with thorin looking out at erebor in the distance : he could see enough to know the shape of it against the sky , though tragically not as much as the others in the company .

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒕 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒖𝒈 : i . the hardness of the stone path in mirkwood aided thorin in being able to lead the company for most of the way , but , as seen in the film , there are several instances that dwalin has to find the path for him if it was coated with enough greenery . ii . the longer he remained in mirkwood , the more his eyesight slacked under its enchantment , ‘til nearly all of his surroundings were a blur , and his abrupt command for the company to follow him and stray from the path was because he could not see and felt cornered into an unwise and impulsive action . iii . thorin does not realize bilbo is missing when battling the spiders because he still could not see well enough ( the second occurrence , still as much an accident as the first , and still not because he disvalued bilbo’s safety ) . iv . his boot stepping on the cord tied to the key before it fell down the mountainside was completely unintentional , which is why he gives bilbo the look he does before he stoops to pick it up .

𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚 : i . the white stag : archery is thorin’s least mastered skill because of his eyesight , but that does not mean that he does not use it every now then , though saving it for when he is certain he would not accidentally strike others . what he sees may be distorted , but having grown accustomed to it , he is better at discerning shapes and concluding where their edges are . ii . the incident with the barrels had him relying quite a lot on his instincts , but was also attributed to the culmination of his tireless training to ensure that others , including himself , would not die because of his eyesight . iii . running from smaug in erebor and the several rather treacherous leaps : most of his confidant running around can be attributed to stone sense ( explained in summary in the footnotes ) , and the several leaps he makes were ones of faith rather than knowing for certain something was there to grab .

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒕 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 : i . he could not see and be sure that bard held the arkenstone until kíli’s exclamation , when thorin’s face darkens with realization and his suspicions of the glowing colors that he could distinguish are confirmed . ii . the tragedy is that he could not see fíli’s final moments , not truly . azog and fíli were at such a distance that while he knew who was standing there , the details , such as the last emotions on his nephew’s face before he perished , were lost to him . he was unfortunately able to distinguish the blade that pierced through him .

𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒚 : i . throwing the ruby : it was mostly the assumption that the shapes of either fíli or kíli would catch it if he aimed it enough in their direction . he has remarkable aim that he worked diligently on throughout the decades . ii . the warning shot let loose at thranduil : a miss . he had been aiming to wound thranduil’s ride with gold - sick intent .

𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑬 : the top is with unaffected eyesight , and the bottom is what thorin sees .

𝑭𝑶𝑶𝑻𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺 :

¹ : dwarrows can see incredibly well in darkness , and despite his short-sightedness , this includes thorin .

² : this is because of stone - sense , something that all dwarrows have . stone sense , in a summarized definition , is the dwarven power to be able to sense the stone around them , noting where it is safe and where it is not , and using it to make their way through mountains both in general and with mining . thorin's short - sightedness is completely indiscernible to anyone watching him in the mountain because of how his stone - sense guides him , resonating a little more loudly due to his disability .

³ : information was drawn in part from this post .

⁴ : in regards to archery , thorin learned how to use a bow during his erebor years before his injury , and while he can only use it to a certain extent depending on the situation , he is still capable of shooting from one . that is not to say he is very good at it , however .

⁵ : thorin is practiced at hiding it , and while your character and others may figure it out eventually , it is not outrightly apparent that he is so very short-sighted . your character and others would most likely not catch on ‘til they are explained to by thorin , or are in a situation that reveals it because he made a blunder .

⁶ : this is not to say that he does not lead the company over dangerous paths , which he does , only that he merely hands over his position in the front when he thinks it is necessary ( and he is not always right about when it is not ) .

#* INTERPRETATION .#* MOUNTAIN - SON WITH CAVERNS DEEP .#i told myself this was not going to be long and yet ; here we are .

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ereborskingarchive2 · 3 years

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𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 , 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 , 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 ( 𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝟷𝟺𝟹 ) ❝ how far do you think it is ? ❞ asked thorin , for by now they knew bilbo had the sharpest eyes among them . ❝ not at all far . i shouldn’t think above twelve yards , ❞ said bilbo . ❝ twelve yards ! ❞ exclaimed thorin . ❝ i should have thought it was thirty at least , but my eyes don’t see as they used a hundred years ago . ❞

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 , 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 , 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 ( 𝚙𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝟷𝟺𝟹 ) ❝ [ . . . ] but fíli is the youngest and still has the best sight , ❞ said thorin . ❝ come here , fíli , and see if you can see the boat mister baggins is talking about . ❞

𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 , 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 ( 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 ) [ . . . ] a young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc . his armor rent , wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield . blow after blow the orc delivered upon this branch , ‘til one such powerful swing drove it back into the prince’s head , sending him down to the ground . . .

dwarrows , with their preference to remain underground in the darkness¹ of their mountains where , in such subterranean conditions , little light reaches the eye , are more short - sighted than any other race in middle earth . whereas elves can look across great distances , dwarrows can see very fine details when anything is brought close to their eyes , an ability that lends itself to the unmatched workmanship that they are able to achieve with their craft . the short - sightedness of dwarrows does not hinder them much² , and while it becomes less easy to see far away with age , they are otherwise unaffected and unaware of any difficulties . their architecture and ornamentation , comprised of straight lines , large , prominent statues , stamped patterns , deeply embedded runes , and embossed beads are aspects that reflect this small lacking in their sight and ensure that the dwarrows do not need perfect vision to navigate through their realm ( flat decorations are rarely seen , if made at all ) nor would they need eyesight by itself to be able to relate to their adornments that are as physically representative ( able to be perceived through contact ) ( i.e. the rune - stone received by kíli from dís is meant to be felt as much as to be looked at ) as they are visually³ .

rare is it that a blow comes down hard enough to cause a dwarf any lasting harm , but when fighting azog the defile during the battle of azanulbizar ( 2799 of the third age ) before the gates of khazad - dûm ( moria ) , a swing of azog’s spiked mace causes the oaken branch that thorin wielded to strike backwards into his head . he falls to the ground , having received a severe enough hit to permanently deteriorate his eyesight further than what is common for a dwarf . his sword cutting off azog’s arm instead of his head is a result of this , because he could no longer see clearly enough to translate the abruptly indistinct appearance of his foe , nor was he able to see azog carried into khazad - dûm alive .

the initial adaptation was difficult the more it deteriorated , but additional practice and training , along with heightened hearing ( he has become particularly adept at hearing and recognizing sounds and when certain people are speaking ) , has him able to participate in battle with as much skill as any other warrior ( instead of direct assaults , thorin tends to twirl with his weapon or use broad upward strokes as a means to make sure that he strikes his enemy and does not fall short because he could not strike as precisely ) ( i.e. this form can be seen most notably during the escape from the goblin tunnels )⁴ . his eyesight is not so far gone that he cannot recognize shapes and surroundings , albeit distorted or faint depending on the distance between him and what he is looking at . around one meter ( sometimes a little farther , sometimes less ) is as far as he can see without having any problems , but this depends on how well - rested he is , and the distance is oftentimes less than that . thorin can see up close as crystal - clearly as his fellow dwarrows . seasons passed , and he adjusted to being able to take in less than others , not thinking much on it save for when journeying required someone with sharper eyes than his ( the distortion is not so great that he cannot commonly make these journeys by himself , which he usually does ) . his instincts serve him well and make up for what he lacks in his eyesight . save for a few strange instances that may cause the dwarrows that do not know of his disability to scratch their heads⁵ , balin , dwalin , dís , fíli , and kíli are aware and do their best to support him without tramping upon his position as leader .

amidst the mourning for the losses sustained during the battle of azanulbizar , which claimed the lives of thrór , thorin’s grandfather , frerin , thorin’s younger brother , and resulted in the disappearance of thráin , thorin’s father , his eyesight was not forefront on his mind , and was not so for awhile . indeed , it took nearly a year before he realized the change , though others around him , namely his training partner , dwalin , and vili , fíli and kíli’s father , noticed earlier , and kept a close guard around thorin . he moved on without taking a moment to grieve his eyesight , working himself nearly to the end of his fortitude to regain the skills that had left him in the wake of this impairment . he neither cursed it , nor cared so little about it that it did not make him brood , nearer and nearer to thinking himself so much lesser than his forefathers . it was a weight set atop so many others , another strain upon the dimming of his mind’s wellbeing , but one that he had no choice but to bear , even if it snuffed him out .

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖 .

𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 , 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 ( 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 ) ONE he arrived late to bag end because he could not see the mark that gandalf had left upon bilbo baggins’ door , which resulted in him becoming rather off - track . he walked up and down bagshot row twice before , on the third attempt , he drew close enough to see the mark . TWO instructing balin to lead the way when they journeyed out of rivendell was partly because balin knew it , and partly because it was unfamiliar enough that thorin did not trust himself to lead the company with his impairment and the steep fall on one side⁶ . THREE in the misty mountains , during the battle of the stone giants , thorin’s eyesight was shortened considerably with the heavy rain - fall , and he could not see whether it was fíli or kíli beside him when they were separated from half of the company . as indicated by the film’s subtitles , he does accidentally call for kíli , mistaking fíli for his brother . FOUR thorin does not realize that bilbo is not with him when they make it out of the goblin tunnels because he simply could not see well enough to notice he was not there ( one of two such accidental occurrences , and not because he disvalued bilbo’s safety ) . FIVE it cannot be . thorin says this in the tree because , until azog the defiler speaks , he cannot see that far away to ascertain whether or not it was truly him and not a different orc . SIX azog the defiler’s warg bringing thorin to the ground may look like bad form on thorin’s part , but when the warg leapt in the air , thorin could no longer tell for sure how close it was in front of him , and by the time it was close enough for him to see it , it was too late , and he had charged too near .

𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢 ONE the ending scene with thorin looking out at erebor in the distance . he could see enough to know the shape of it against the sky , though tragically not as much as the others in the company .

𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 , 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 ( 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚞𝚐 ) ONE the hardness of the stone path in mirkwood aided thorin in being able to lead the company for most of the way , but , as seen in the film , there are several instances that dwalin has to find the path for him if it was coated with enough greenery . TWO the longer he remained in mirkwood , the more his eyesight slacked under its enchantment , til nearly all of his surroundings were a blur , and his abrupt command for the company to follow him and stray from the path was because he could not see and felt cornered into an unwise and impulsive action . THREE thorin does not realize bilbo is missing when battling the spiders because he still could not see well enough ( the second occurrence , still as much an accident as the first , and still not because he disvalued bilbo’s safety ) . FOUR his boot stepping on the cord tied to the key before it fell down the mountainside was completely unintentional , which is why he gives bilbo the look he does before he stoops to pick it up .

𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢 ONE the white stag . archery is thorin’s least mastered skill because of his eyesight , but that does not mean that he does not attempt it every now and then , saving it for when he is certain he would not accidentally strike others . what he sees may be distorted , but having grown accustomed to it , he is better at discerning blurry shapes and concluding where their edges are . TWO the incident with the barrels had him relying quite a lot on his instincts , but was also attributed to the culmination of his tireless training to ensure that others , including himself , would not die because of his eyesight . THREE running from smaug in erebor and the several rather treacherous leaps . most of his confidant running around can be attributed to stone sense ( explained in summary in the footnotes ) , and the several leaps he makes were ones of faith rather than knowing for certain something was there to grab .

𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗 , 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝 ( 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜 ) ONE he could not see and be sure that bard held the arkenstone until kíli’s exclamation , when thorin’s face darkens with realization and his suspicions of the glowing colors that he could distinguish are validated . TWO the tragedy is that he could not see fíli’s final moments , not truly . azog and fíli were at such a distance that while he knew who was standing there and what was happening , the details , such as the last emotions on his nephew’s face before he perished , were lost to him .

𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚢 ONE throwing the ruby . it was mostly the assumption that the shapes of either fíli or kíli would catch it if he aimed it enough in their direction . he has remarkable aim that he worked diligently on throughout the decades . TWO the warning shot let loose at thranduil . a miss . he had been aiming to wound thranduil’s ride with gold - sick intent .

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 .

¹ dwarrows can see incredibly well in darkness , and despite his short - sightedness , this includes thorin .

² this is because of stone - sense , something that all dwarrows have . stone sense , in a summarized definition , is the dwarven ability to be able to sense the stone around them , noting where it is safe and where it is not , and using it to make their way through mountains both in general and with mining . thorin’s short - sightedness is completely unnoticeable to anyone watching him in the mountain because of how his stone - sense guides him , resonating a little more loudly than most due to his disability .

³ information was drawn in part from this post .

⁴ in regards to archery , thorin learned how to use a bow during his erebor years before his injury , and while he can only use it to a certain extent depending on the situation , he is still capable of shooting from one . that is not to say he is very good at it , however .

⁵ thorin is practiced at hiding it , and while your character and others may figure it out eventually , it is not outright apparent that he is so very short - sighted . your character and others would most likely not catch on til they are explained to by thorin , or are in a situation that reveals it because he made a blunder . he will mostly ignore the question when asked .

⁶ this is not to say that he does not lead the company over treacherous paths , which he does , only that he merely hands over his position in the front when he thinks it is necessary ( and he is not always right about when it is not ) .

#interpretation .#the legends of the mountain - son .#moved this over here immediately #because this is important to my portrayal .

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 46 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Loki did not know how to respond. “Coronation? But...why, you’re not...”

“Yes, your Coronation, and no, I am not dead, clearly.” Laufey walked around the table that separated them and went closer to his son. “Your actions on the battlefield, the manner in which you carried yourself and your tireless striving to better yourself for our realm prove to me that it is time for me to become the first-ever Jotnar king to step down and not die for my son to succeed me. I am old, weary and weak, I do not have the energy and fortitude to continue this role any longer and you are ready. With a child on the way also, you are the future of our realm. A young king is the way forward,” Laufey explained calmly.

“But you…”

“I am tired, my son. I want to live out the last of my days in the wings, watching Jotunheim flourish under you as it never could under me. I want to watch my grandchildren come to be, to rest after so long of carrying the weight of the woes of the realm. The thoughts of spending the last of my life enjoying my grandchildren as they start theirs, nothing could ever give me greater joy. Already two grow within their dams, with Helbindi and his mate, who knows, perhaps even a third to come in the near future. Watching my sons grow from the small little Jotnar learning the ways of the realms, chasing one another with snowballs into men, fathers and in the case of you, Loki, into a King.”

“Father…” Loki could not process what was being said. He knew that his father saw him as his successor and knew the day would come they would discuss such a thing but to hear him speak of such now, when there seemed little reason to consider it, he could not think of a more competent response. “I am without words.” “There is nothing to say. It is decided. I spoke with Arden on your return. I asked him if he thought you were ready, he agrees with me, you are. You are the way forward for our realm, Loki. With a mate such as Ella, you will bring Jotunheim into a new and glorious era.” Loki did not know what to say with regards to that. He felt a pressure on him which made the feeling he had at the prospect of marrying Ella before he got to know her feel like nothing in comparison to the weight he now felt with his father’s words.

“We must, however, prepare for any that would argue such a decision,” Laufey stated.

Loki frowned. “Why…?” “You know how some are with regards to a grandchild of Odin Allfather being heir to our throne but they are the mere few. You heard Kristoff in the throne room yourself, even your own heritage angers some ignorant few,” Laufey thought for a moment. “For this, I think we require another to add their thoughts. When your mate is rested, I wish to speak with you both regarding the matter. She has a way of looking at situations that we do not, she may see something we do not see. She adds so greatly to everything she involves herself in, I feel she would add to this also.”

Loki found himself nodding before even thinking to answer. It was true, Ella would see angles and aspects they could not. She also brought the wealth of knowledge of dealing with the Aesir court, which he knew were often quite vocal with regards contesting Thor’s readiness to rule, he had heard that from both her and from the camp which he had shared with the Aesir through the war. “I will speak with her upon seeing her again. I just need to deal with another matter beforehand.” “What matter is this?” Loki contemplated saying nothing for a moment before deciding to be honest with his father. Inhaling deeply, he readied himself for the reaction that would come. “I insulted her with my actions, not a moment before coming to see you so I wish to find a way to apologise to her for such with a gift before forcing her to be in my presence again.”

Laufey nodded slightly. “Acknowledging your wrongs and apologising for them is an integral part of being a mate. So long as you did nothing too great, it will be easily sorted once more. She cares deeply for you, that is plain to see. Show her that you are remorseful for your actions and all will return to as it should be soon enough.”

Loki frowned. “If I am honest, Father, I genuinely expected you to admonish me.” “For what? Having an argument with your mate?” Laufey laughed at the thought. “Loki, take it from a Jotnar that has had three mates in his life, if you’re not arguing or disagreeing with at least one of them at some stage or another, you are not actually mates. I am not talking about full-blown rows with shouting or such but you will disagree and you will have times where you will not see eye to eye, that is natural, you are living beings with your own thoughts and opinions. What does matter is acknowledging when you are wrong and trying to fix it.” He put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Getting her a gift and apologising is what you stated you wished to do and I cannot fault such thoughts, do it and speak with her on this matter.” Loki nodded slightly in agreement. “What do you want from her as a mate?”

His father’s question baffled him slightly. “Sorry?”

“Your mate, what is it you wish to have with her? What sort of a life? How do you see this being in a thousand years or so?” Loki frowned at his father’s words causing Laufey to sigh. “Bertha always was the one I have loved for her knowledge of food and her heart, Farbauti for her kindness, her ability to nurture our home and children, your mother,” Laufey smiled fondly as he thought of Nal. “Norns, she was kindness and intelligence. There was nothing we could not speak about together. My life is enriched by their mere presence. To this day, I think of your mother with only the fondest of memories. When I retire for the evening, I get a sense of happiness knowing Farbauti will tell me of what she has heard since my leaving the throne room today and her ideas for both you and your brother to ready for your respective children. We will speak of how Bertha would be excited and trying to make everything they would have needed and of other matters. But what of you, what do you see as the connection between you and Ella? What makes you happy to see her, what makes you look forward to returning to your rooms later?”

“Well, the child…” “My son, please, please do not tell me that your answer is regarding the child?” Laufey implored, seeing Loki’s face, he sighed. “Loki, if all she is to you is a uterus to carry children and a mind to pick for use as you see fit…” “No, she is not.” Loki was quick to tell his father. It was true, he found himself truly enjoying being around Ella, though if he was honest, he was unsure as to what that was. “It is not like that. I...there is something when I am in her presence, it is like it soothes my mind, this knowledge that she cares so deeply, she was willing to risk her life to remain here because she felt it the right thing to do. She was willing to die for Jotunheim...Her loyalty to duty, it is incredible.” “It is commendable to a fault, but…” “But it's more than that. Her love for Jotunheim, for our home, is incredible, but how she...she knew everything about our realm she could before she ever came, thinking about that alone makes me feel as though she…” Loki thought of the sensation in his stomach in an attempt to explain it. “I cannot put it into words.” “Perhaps it is time to think it over and see if you can. For if you achieve that, you will be better able to embrace what you have and in turn, strengthen and better it. Then perhaps you will not accidentally insult her by making comment on her body changing to grow your child.”

Loki scowled at his father. “I did no such thing.” “Good, do not do that. Take it from one who did, Nal had it that I, the King of the realm was not even allowed on the royal wing, much less my own bed for a week after that.” Loki stared in disbelief at his father. “I was not always the brightest of young men, I learnt more from doing the wrong thing than doing the right, as you can see with regards to my actions in the war. Norns, but I learnt a lesson there.” Loki could not think of an appropriate response. “Go and deal with your mate and discuss what we have spoken about here. With a nod to his father, Loki left, thinking over everything his father said.

He chewed on his father’s words as he left his rooms, thinking of what could make up for how he had insulted Ella as he did so. One thought came to him, so with an idea of what to do and a plan of how to do it, Loki rushed to deal with the situation.

Ella gave her mate a scathing look as he returned to their room. She watched as he cautiously approached her, his demeanour suitably meek as he did so.

“I’m so sorry.” Loki began with those words knowing that they were the least he could say. If she did not listen to them, she would most certainly not listen to anything else he said. “I am so sorry for rubbing your kindness, caring and understanding back in your face as I did. I am sorry I made you feel inferior as a mate, that I put some unrealistic definition of what is masculinity on myself and in doing so, insulted us both. There is no shame in being comforted by a mate, it is one of the reasons we choose mates as we do. You sought to care for my wellbeing and I threw it back at you so callously. I am sorry, Ella.” He noted the harshness in her features become less cold. He walked over, showing her what was in his hands, a significantly sized peculiarly shaped piece of ice. “I got you this, as an apology, but also because I saw it before I left for the war and genuinely thought you would like it.” She took the ice from him and looked at him for a moment. “Wait and watch,” he smiled.

Ella did as he requested, noting that the ice was incredibly thin and was melting quickly. She watched as it revealed its contents to her. “I…” She touched it. “It’s cold?” “It is not diamond, but permanent ice. It cannot melt, even on realms outside of this.” Loki explained. “It is not very common, we rarely mine it as it is a very difficult to source ice and it tends to not really be used for much since the realm is cold enough to simply use the ice around us, but…”

“It’s beautiful.”

Loki took the necklace and tied it around her neck before looking at her again. “It suits you.” “Thank you.” The tension remained between them for a moment, Loki unsure of if he should say anything more. “And thank you for your apology.” She gave him a small smile. “I know males have a skewed ideas of masculinity but you are not any less of a man for finding my shoulder comfortable and for getting startled at waking in your bed and not on a makeshift one on a battlefield, these are normal and entirely understandable. I cannot say I fully comprehend what you have endured, Loki, but I do understand enough to know you are tired, in body and mind and the least I can do is let you rest comfortably.”

Loki felt himself feel more guilty for his actions when he woke. He could see all she wanted was to be there in any manner she could for him. “I apologise again. I...are you alright?” Loki looked worriedly at Ella, stepping forward slightly as she froze, her hand halfway to her stomach.

“I...I think…” She took his hand and placed it to her side. “He moved…” Loki did not know what to say or think, he simply waited. For a solid minute, he kept his hand where Ella had placed it but there was no movement, feeling disheartened, he went to take his hand away but Ella stopped him. “It does not…” The words were taken from him as he felt a slight nudge against his hand, almost too faint to feel. “Is that..?” Another little nudge went against his hand.

“I think someone is reacting to you,” Ella smiled.

“It is not so simple.” “He waited for you to speak to move again,” Ella countered. “It is the first time I have felt movement, he waited for your return.” She looked down to where his hand remained on her stomach. “It’s so peculiar.”

“I do not think he realises such things as my being gone and here.” “It is entirely possible. On your return, my seidr would have surged slightly with my being happy and relieved about it so he would have sensed that if he has any seidr of his own, meaning he would realise it in some manner and my seidr reacting to you being close by, it’s not entirely impossible, pending his seidr’s strength, lest we forget that I caused my own mother to go into premature labour from the force of my own, he could very well sense it.” Loki felt his throat tighten slightly at her words. Not because of their son reacting, which was incredible in itself, but her admitting her seidr would react to her joy at him being back. He thought of when he left in the past to go to different parts of the realm on matters for different reasons, none he had shared his time with before Ella seemed to react as she had on his return, even Angrboða , who he had thought had loved him, seemed to be happy that her amusement had returned more than she was happy to see him. Ella admitting that she was so happy to see him that her seidr reacted to his return. He looked into her eyes to see that her words were genuine. He swallowed. “Thank you.” “Don’t cry. Your reputation is already in tatters because you showed some form of emotion already today.”

Though her voice was sarcastic, there was no denying that her eyes showed the words were in jest.

Loki did not even think about what he was doing as he chuckled before cupping her face with the hand that was not holding her stomach where their son had kicked, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers.

Ella was unsure of what to say or do. She knew that the act was one of deep caring and love in Jotnar mates, she never expected Loki to do such a thing, taking her completely by surprise as he sighed contently as he remained still.

#Loki #other #submission #Submitted fic #wolfpawn #chapter 46 #Pride and Prejudice

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recentanimenews · 4 years

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Made in Abyss: Dawn of the Deep Soul – Trials Make Love Stronger

I finished the first season of Made in Abyss three years and a week ago, commenting that while I ached to know what would happen next, a long rest was in order, so that I might recover from the emotional wounds throughout that first run, culminating in the shockingly brutal story of Mitty and Nanachi.

Turns out no amount of time would heal those wounds to the extent they wouldn’t be re-opened and—very soul freshly re-crushed—upon watching the continuation of the Abyss story. That’s because the deeper Riko, Reg, and Nanachi descend, the more acute and devastating the horrors they encounter.

This is the third of three Made in Abyss films; the first two were a retelling of the first season, while the third is a direct sequel As such, spoilers throughout.

Case in point: upon arriving at one of her mother’s favorite spots in all of the Abyss, the Garden of Flowers of Fortitude, they encounter one of Bondrewd’s delvers, the Umbra Hands, harvesting tissue from other delvers who have been infected by a parasite that not only feeds off you while you’re still alive, but feeds itself to you in order to keep you alive. Lovely!

Few anime do soaring vistas like Abyss, and there’s something just so otherworldly and dread-inducing about the sight of the Fifth Layer’s Sea of Corpses, along with Idofront, Bondrewd the Novel’s domain. But as cold and unyielding and inhospitable as the spinning ghost city seems on the outside, within resides one of the sweetest, warmest, most human souls they’ve yet encountered: an adorable little girl named Prushka.

Prushka is Bondrewd’s daughter (voiced by Minase Inori), who is initially suspicious of outsiders coming to help her dad when she thinks she should be enough. But once she meets Riko, Reg, and Nanachi, they open for her a whole new world of questions and information about the Surface (she was born in the Abyss).

It’s so strange to see Prushka acting so lovey-dovey with Bondrewd, perpetrator of countless acts of sickening biological crimes, especially since he and his Umbra Hands resemble evil robots. And yet that evil robot still has a strange gravitational pull Nanachi finds hard to resist. Nanachi can’t forgive Bondrewd, but something still draws them toward him. Nanachi was something of a child figure to him, after all, so Nanachi sees Prushka as a younger self.

Bondrewd has bad news for Riko: while she may have her mother’s White Whistle, only the person for whom the whistle was made can use it to activate the altar that will take her down to the Sixth Layer. He offers them accommodations to “think things over”, but there isn’t any doubt his intentions for them are about as far from harmless as they’re all far from the Surface.

Despite her cozy room, soon Riko wakes up alone, and upon exploring, finds that she’s trapped in a small area with the only exit being a stair Prushka warned will cause “strains of ascension” if climbed. When Riko attempts to climb them anyway, she loses all sense of touch and balance, grinds her baby molars away and falls down the stairs, gaining cuts here and there. But she hallucinates far worse: as the very concepts of what and where are gradually eaten away by white light.

Ultimately, the reason Bondrewd does anything all comes down to curiosity and the aspiration to reach the bottom of the Abyss and learn its infinite secrets, same as Riko. It’s just a matter of scope and scale. Riko has managed to retain her humanity throughout her descent. But while has the affable dad voice and general form of a man, there is simply nothing left of Bondrewd’s humanity.

After Nanachi offers to stay with him and help him continue his research in exchange for Riko and Reg’s safety, Bondrewd tells them that, uh, unfortunately, he’s already tossed Reg to his Umbra Hands, who restrain him, slice off his right arm (along with Incinerator) and start collecting his bodily fluids. That’s when Riko, who was helped up to the upper level by Prushka, intervenes, and Prushka learns the truth about her father for the first time.

With Bondrewd showing his true horrific colors loudly and proudly, Nanachi, the most experienced with how he operates, comes up with a plan to take him out. This involves luring him into a nest of giant seven-tailed scorpions, trying to infect him with parasite larvae, and finally Reg crushing his body with a giant boulder.

Naturally, Bondrewd praises both Reg and Nanachi every time they toss a new tactic at him, saying things like “wonderful” and “I’m surprised.” After all, Nanachi is one of the creations of which of which he is most proud, one who unlike Mitty and the others was able to receive the “Blessing” of the Abyss rather than fall victim to the Curse. You’d could mistake it for fatherly pride if, again, Bondrewd had a shred of humanity. But his willingness to offer love and pain and suffering in equal measure disqualifies him as both from being either a parent or a human.

None of the tactics against him end up working, because the Umbra Hand who escorted Prushka simply takes the mask off of the crushed Bondrewd and places it on his head, thus transforming into a new, untouched Bondrewd. Turns out all of his Umbra Hands are him—and his immortality is tied to a relic called Zoaholic. The fight ends for now, and Bondrewd returns home with Prushka.

If Zoaholic didn’t make Bondrewd insane, the act of splitting his soul and essence into multiple bodies still removed what was left of his empathy or humanity, which is why he ends up having Prushka cruelly vivisected just like all of the other orphan children before her. He’s satisfied her experiences with Reg, Riko, and Nanachi helped “perfect” her, and this is the natural next step. She is never told this would happen, and never asked if it’s okay.

Her body is marked with “X’s” to signify the parts that will be cut away and discarded (most of it) until all that is left is a mass of “fleshy curse repellant” to be placed within a suitcase-sized cartridge. It is in this way that Bondrewd staves off the curse; using the pain and suffering of still technically-living children as his strength.

It’s truly skin-crawling, horrible, horrible stuff, and even though I had a reasonable suspicion that Prushka was doomed to a Mitty-like fate, I was still not ready to see even a little of that fate carried out, nor would I ever be. No one would!

By the Riko, Reg, and Nanachi return to Idofront to rescue her they’re way too late, while the sight of the “processing” room brings back Nanachi’s memories of assisting with said processing. When Bondrewd arrives, Riko and Nanachi they buy time for Reg, who hooks himself up to Idofront’s power supply and ends up rebooting in Berserk Mode.

Bondrewd tells Riko that his own White Whistle is the result of sacrificing his own body and soul, and that all White Whistles are made in this way—with a willing human sacrifice, not carved stone.

It’s then when Berserk-Reg arrives and fights on the same level as Bondrewd, ultimately blasting a huge sphere-shaped chunk out of Idofront. He lands in a pit of Mittys—material for Bondrewd’s cartridges, and we’re reminded of all those lights on the wall representing their lives are labeled: he remembers the name of every child, their unique qualities, and how cute they were. Shudder…

As Bondrewd and Reg are locked in an epic battle, we hear Prushka’s disembodied voice as she recounts her life with Bondrewd, starting as a failed subject. He decided to raise her as his daughter, gave her Meinya as a pet, and gave her a fun and happy childhood, ultimately culminating in her helplessly watching as pieces of her are removed one by one on the operating table.

We hear Prushka because she’s now a cartridge that Bondrewd is currently using in his fight, and ends up being his last cartridge. Even after what he did to her, she still wants to help her dad achieve his dreams—even if it means helping him fight against Reg, Riko, and Nanachi.

Thus aided by Bondrewd, Reg can’t defeat him with one arm, which is why he was buying time for Riko to retrieve his other arm. Even disconnected from his body, she’s able to aim it at Bondrewd and fire it, blasting him to pieces.

As this is happening, Prushka pleads with everyone not to fight, because they’re all going to have adventures together. An image of that dream appears in the climax of the battle, and is pretty much the most heartbreaking goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.

Then Bondrewd falls to the ground, finally beaten, and Nanachi stand over him. True to form, Bondrewd isn’t bitter about losing; on the contrary: he’s never been happier to find someone with stronger aspirations, will, and love defeat him. It means they, not him, are worthy of exploring the greater depths of the Abyss, and all the curses and blessings therein.

Riko holds the spent cartridge of what’s left of Prushka, simply red liquid that spills everywhere, and very understandably begins to bawl in absolute despair. But then she notices an object lying in the puddle of liquid: a White Whistle. Turns out Prushka’s soul willingly became the sacrifice necessary for Riko. Now her dream of going on adventures together can be realized.

With that, Riko gains the means to make her Last Dive, along with Reg (who learned a great deal about what his relic body can do) and Nanachi (who found a degree of closure in her vendetta with Bondrewd). Bondrewd, oddly enough, is still alive (after a fashion), but no longer a threat to them, and indeed is happy to see them off as they enter the “elevator” that will take them to the Sixth Layer, that much closer to Riko’s Mom, whatever’s become of her.

Quite appropriately, the end credits pull double duty as an illustration of that elevator descending ever deeper into the Abyss, accompanied by an achingly gorgeous song that is a collab between MYTH & ROID and Kevin Penkin. Penkin, of course, also contributed the score and outdoes himself in the task; his music has been and continues to be a vital piece of what makes Abyss so unique an special.

It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to end this in less than 1500 words, but whatever; this was basically four episodes of the anime comprising a Fifth Layer arc, enshrining Bondrewd the Novel as one of anime’s all-time most monstrous and compelling villains, exploring the ways ambition can mutate “love” into a heartlessly destructive force.

It also ably reinforced Abyss’ uncanny ability to tear its viewers’ hearts and souls to bloody shreds before painstakingly sewing them back together with delicate threads of hope. And with a second season in the early stages of production, the story of Riko, Reg, and Nanachi is far from over.

By: magicalchurlsukui

#Anime #News #RABUJOI – An Anime Blog

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