#from no fault of yours! and i wish you well regardless and hope these horrifically long tags don't distract from that lmao god

[genshin-pals]

Corruption......part TWO!!!

Part one is here!! 

At this rate we’ll just do all the genshin characters because GOD I love this trope and y’all apparently do as well.

Characters: Venti, Lisa, Razor, Hu Tao, Qiqi, Rosaria

He hates Dragonspine. The snowy mountain only brings him sadness and pain. It serves as a reminder of a horrific battle that would end with his dear friend in pain and susceptible to suggestions of the abyss.

Anxiety consumed him when you told him you were off to the mountain, but he smiled and waved you off anyway. He regrets that.

There was a pain in his chest, fingers hovering above the strings of his harp as he stops in the middle of a song. 

Without another word he started running, running to the mountain he hated. 

It was up at the top of the mountain he found you. Kneeled down in the snow, clutching your head as something dark pulsed through your body. Tears fell. You were hurting.

Without his Gnosis, Venti’s power is limited. But he’ll be damned to leave you in this state. Taking a step forward, you turn at the crunch in the snow. Frantic like a cornered animal.

Kneeling before you, hands raise to gently cup your cheeks. He sees the pain on your expression. You’re frightened, much like Dvalin was when you first arrived in Monstadt.

“With the last of my divine strength, let me share in this curse...” 

The tips of his braids started glowing, and the boy’s form changed. Wings grew, and he was now dressed in white. However, all of that soon vanished, crumbling away as the darkness that haunted you moved over to the former archon.

Thoughts started becoming clearer, and recognition returned to your eyes. Venti...what was he doing?

Winds dying down, you stared at the other as he breathed heavily, still holding your face so gently as he panted.

“You, who have traveled the stars, also have your limits...” He forced out. Lifting his head, he smiled, despite the purple crack crawling across his face. “...but perhaps in a smaller dose, this hatred can be healed by your spirit...”

With the cursed blood split between the two of you, Venti helped you down the mountain. Windrise would help cleanse the last bits of corruption from you both.

How curious Lisa was. She wanted to know the truth of this world, but once she saw the madness that quest for knowledge cursed those around her, she gave up.

If the price of knowledge is the well being of others, it is best to remain ignorant.

Now, she’d use all her knowledge and power to save you. The witch was quite knowledgeable of legends of Monstadt, and the curse of Durin was no different.

That hatred radiating off of you was familiar. When you brought that corrupted tear drop crystal, that felt the same as you do now.

“Looks like I’ll have to play rough...”

Spell circles appeared at both her and your feet. The snowy clouds turned dark and pitch black. Lightning flashed, crashing down where you stood.

Identifying the woman as the source, you charged towards her.

But you couldn’t even get close. Thunder roared, and the air itself seemed to be filled with electro. 

This type of powers was almost unimaginable. Lisa may have forsaken the title of “grand mage”, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still qualified for it.

With all of her magic, a bolt of lightning finally struck it’s might upon your form.

The scream you let out pained the woman’s heart, but the fight was over. Rushing to your side, she kneeled down, lifting your head to rest on her lap. Gently, her hand stroked your hair.

Lisa hated work, but she’ll work as hard as she needs to in order to heal you.

He doesn’t understand what’s happening.

Razor followed you to the mountain, met a mysterious blond boy, and you got some weird sword. The more you battled, the more you changed. 

He was scared, but couldn’t find the words to express his concern. You assured him you were alright, but he never believed it.

One night, a blizzard raged across the mountain. The two of you rushed into a cave for shelter. Strangely, the cave seemed to radiate warmth. Razor looked at the white hail outside, calling your name. When you didn’t answer, he turned around.

You started at a large red...thing, in the back of the cave. Razor didn’t like it. If it wasn’t for the blizzard he would suggest leaving. But then something else happened.

You lunged at the wolf boy, slashing the cursed sword towards him. He gasped, quickly dodging.

“Please, calm!” He shouts. “Why attack?!” 

You weren’t listening, charging once again.

This was so bad. Survival came first, that’s what his head told him. But you were his lupical, and you were in pain... He could see it in your eyes, and the unnatural cracks in your skin.

Razor wanted to protect his lupical. So he had to think. This started when you entered the cave. No...before that. When you got the sword.

Static pricked on his skin, his sword clashing against your own. With a growl, electro burst forth from his blade. 

You were slammed into the wall of the cave. Razor was fast, roaring as he drove his weapon into Festering Desire. The piercing gaze of the gem cracked, and you let out a gasp.

Slumping down, you were out cold. Nothing Razor did would wake you up.

Positioning you on his back, he would run down to the city. Through the storm and over the hills, he needed you to be okay.

Dragonspine was a good source of business for Hu Tao. Foolish adventurers who believed they could conquer nature often lead to their own downfall.

Sometimes, she goes out there herself, knowing that there are bound to be bodies and spirits that have been lost for years. The pyro spirit that followed her kept her warm as well as helped to locate the corpses. But this time, it found something else.

Something else caught her attention. A disgusting energy. But it was you.

You rushed to slash at the girl, and Hu Tao dodged. This was unlike you and she knew it.

“Trying to send me off, hm?” She called to no response. Any sense of teasing was lost. This was serious. “I see...” Eyes drifted down to the weapon you held.

Twirling her spear, Hu Tao prepared herself for a fight. “Sorry, y/n. No discounts today.” She would take you back alive.

As the fight went on, the cold was starting to get to her. How long have you both been out on the mountain? This needed to end, and soon.

Summoning her blazing spirit, she swung it around and hit you. It burned, and you stumbled backwards. 

Hu Tao was running at you, before vanishing for a moment. In that single moment, the blazing spirit appeared from nowhere, screeching into your face. 

Something grabbed your wrist, turning, you saw the girl you were fighting.

“Boo~” She said with a grin, knocking the sword from your hand and holding you down.

Vision began to blur, and all you remember is a calm, forgiving warmth...

Someone who made Qiqi not mind the warmth was now so cold.

The energy created from the sword you were given wasn’t good. She didn’t like it, and yet Qiqi was unable to tell you.

You were hurt, attacking everything in sight. Somehow, that felt familiar, as if sparking a memory.

Qiqi didn’t want you to be sealed. So she would help you now.

With her orders received, she jumped into action. 

Even when you were marked with her talisman, the battle was difficult. The strength radiating off of you was almost overwhelming. But Qiqi felt if she didn’t save you now, you would be destroyed.

It was dangerous, but Qiqi unleashed the adeptal powers within her. Snow and ice raged around you two, and the small child rushed forward once again. She slashed at your hand, the evil sword sent flying.

You gasped, turning to retrieve your weapon when someone stopped you.

Small arms wrapped around your legs. They were cold, but shockingly strong.

“Qiqi loves you the most.” The girl spoke quietly. Those were the words used to cancel her orders. Typically spoken by Baizhu with no sincerity. But now? Qiqi means those words with all of her heart.

The adepti power helped to clear your mind, and soon your eyes fell heavy, along with your body. Now passed out, Qiqi would drag you down the mountain. 

Qiqi doesn’t ask for much, but she would demand Baizhu help you once returning to Liyue harbor. She would stay by your side until you woke.

Albedo is a dead man. She doesn’t know how, but she knew this was his fault.

It can wait, though. But for now, she focused on you and you alone. If you became a threat to Monstadt, she would end you. That is what she told herself. And yet, looking at you now, she wishes to save you instead.

Rosaria was making more work for herself, it seemed.

With a tired sigh, the sister darted forward. Blades clashed against one another, and Rosaria wasn’t above underhanded tactics.

Kicking up snow into your eyes, Rosaria moved to your back, slashing hard and fast. Blood dripped onto the white snow. You were injured, so that should slow you down.

It should have, but the power possessing you didn’t care what your physical state was. You fought regardless of the blood loss. Swearing under her breath, Rosaria noted how the darkness seemed to originate from your sword.

You ran to pierce her chest, but Rosaria’s spear parried your attack, sending Festering Desire into the air. Before anything else could happen, the woman tackles you to the ground, holding the handle of her spear to your throat.

You couldn’t get up with her sitting on top of you, and the bar above your neck made it hard to breath. Senses returning, your eyes fluttered close.

With a sigh, Rosaria stood, pulling you up and onto her back.

She would head back to the city, hoping Barbra would be able to heal you properly...

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin venti #genshin lisa #genshin razor #genshin qiqi #genshin rosaria #venti #lisa #razor #qiqi #rosaria #mod cake #corruption prompt

[personasintro]

before you go | myg drabble

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀; taking a step forward, you decide it's time to act after realization that you're worth much more than your boyfriend thinks, and you deserve even more

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: cheating au, mentions of sex, strong language, yoongi cries 

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2k

a/n: commissioned by the lovely @minyoongail​, who's been extremely patient with me! thank you again and I hope you enjoy this drabble!

𝗺.𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | ☕️

It happened gradually, smoothly even.

Although, you’re not sure if the word ‘smooth’ is the right one to describe it. It happened slowly and gradually, that you barely noticed it but now that you look at all the clues and details, it makes a perfect sense and you come to think; how stupid were you? You should’ve seen it sooner. You should’ve focus on those details more. And most importantly, you should’ve never trust him the way you did.

Cheating is unforgivable and unforgettable. But there was still a time when you ignored it, purposely tried to be blind about it and pretended that it never happened. But it broke you even more. How can it not?

It started with the lack of his presence. The usual excuse; the work got busy and they needed me. Funny how the word ‘they’ should’ve been in a singular form rather than plural. And at first, you believed that. Why couldn’t he be busy? Being an idol practically screams busy and unavailable but even then, you as a couple managed to get through that. You respected his profession just like he did yours, there was no reason to compare your two different professions. You were proud of him, fuck, you still are. Despite of what happened, you’re still proud of him for working so hard to the point the whole word knows who he is and they praise him for his incredible ability to comfort people with his music and lyrics.

It didn’t come weird to you when he started to stay nights somewhere else, rather than by your side and in his luxurious apartment placed in one of the newest buildings in Seoul, with a perfect view of Han River and center of Seoul. When he asked you to move in, you knew there’d be times when he would be just too busy but you also knew, it’d be a great opportunity to be closer to him. And a next step in your two year relationship. So naturally, you thought he’s just spending the nights in his studio and in the company. Oh, how wrong you were.

Then secret calls and messages happened.

Yoongi has always been a quiet man who liked his privacy, but not to the extent of changing his password and holding his phone for a dear life. It’s not like you went and snooped around in his phone, trying to find something suspicious or something like that. It happened randomly when you saw him unlocking it with a different password, when he laid on the sofa next to you. His Touch ID was broken and it was dark for his Face ID to work. If those two things didn’t happen, you’d never know or maybe you’d find out eventually. Regardless of that, maybe it was the universe giving you a first sign.

Yoongi always used to go to another room whenever someone called him, it was just his pet peeve. He wanted to go somewhere quiet where he could discuss an important business. But after he started to close a door and you couldn’t hear his muffled voice, so all you heard was a complete silence or whispered words, it started to become weird.

Third thing that caught your attention was the lack of intimacy in your relationship. Sure, Yoongi’s a busy man with a hectic schedule and life, but he used to find the time to appreciate you in more ways than possible. Even if it was just a quick sex to get a relief, and he drifted to sleep right away, he still whispered soft I love you’s into your ear. When days became weeks and weeks became months without him even touching you, you knew something’s wrong. He can be busy, but he’s still a man with needs like you’re woman with the same ones. You don’t have to mention dates, because those didn’t happen as well. And when Yoongi came home with a weird purplish mark on his chest, which you randomly saw because he started to shower alone and wouldn’t ask you to join him like he used to, you knew he’s getting his relief somewhere else.

It hurt. Maybe you have it all wrong, maybe it’s not how it seems. You desperately tried to persuade yourself, but things never got better and they just got even worse. So, you buried yourself into the work and distanced yourself just like he did but still, none of you voiced out the problem even though you both knew something’s wrong. Your relationship stopped having a future. But why can’t he just end it?

Why does he keep sneaking behind your back? He even started to be lazy with precautions, and left his phone on his nightstand one evening.

‘see you tomorrow, can’t wait x’, said the text.

The woman’s name almost burned your eyes but no, it was your tears that did.

And that’s how you’ve spent your nights, crying into your pillow and the person who was behind your crying was nowhere to be seen, and all you’ve had left was his empty side of bed. Where there were no tears left to cry, anger replaced the sadness and hurt. You were angry, but still holding yourself in your boyfriend’s presence. It wasn’t hard, he was barely present in your own presence. He made it easy.

But even anger didn’t last that long and you slowly became numb. Numb to the pain, to the anger and any other emotion. That’s what he’s done to you and he should’ve seen it coming.

Just like when he opens the front door, completely tired and worn out, met with the sight of two big suitcases. He knows they belong to you, his own are plain black but that’s not why he recognizes it at first. It’s because those are the same ones he helped you with when you moved in. Dropping his keys onto the small cupboard, he walks deeper into the huge apartment to find it just in the exact state. However, what’s different is you walking out of the bedroom with a bag in your arms, along with your phone. You don’t notice him, you’re too busy trying to check if you’ve packed everything and there’s nothing left of you. You don’t plan on coming back and if there’s something you accidentally forgot, you don’t want it. You’d rather lose that thing than to come here again and be reminded of the biggest heartbreak you’ve ever experienced.

“What are you doing?”

You almost jump at the deep and velvety voice, eyes widened at the sight of what used to be your boyfriend in front of you. He eyes your bag, a silent question decorating his features.

“Leaving,” you answer nonchalantly, almost scoffing at him. How the fuck does it look like? You surely aren’t going on a holiday.

“Why?” he asks, his voice suddenly getting more cautious and louder when he sees your distance, especially when you walk past him.

His footsteps are heard behind you, and you wish he’d just ignore you like he’s been doing for the past couple of months.

“We both know why,” you mutter, rolling your eyes before you stop at the picture frame that’s sitting on the dresser. It’s the picture of you and him, taken sometime when you started dating. It’s your picture and you’re the one who brought it when you moved in, it’s been decorating Yoongi’s apartment ever since.

That’s the one thing you’re willing to purposely leave behind, you don’t want that.

Feeling his eyes burning at the side of your face, he’s got the perfect view of it being expressionless before you walk past the picture like it means nothing. Because it does. It used to be one of the most precious things you've ever owned. It was decorating your home, a sweet reminder of your boyfriend whom you loved very much at that time. You missed him every minute but whenever you looked at that picture, it brought a warm feeling to your heart. It made all those moments when you finally were by his side, able to kiss him, even more precious. Now, that picture brings nothing but emptiness and irritant feeling instead. And it's only one person's fault and that person is standing just a few meters away from you with the most heartbreaking eyes. As if you're the one who broke him first.

“Come on, we can talk about this. Please, just let’s sit down and talk about this.”

The desperation that raises up in his tone is quite surprising to you, but you don’t react. Just when you’re standing in front of your suitcases, you glance at him. He stares at you with a hopeful gaze, but you just shake your head.

“What’s there to talk about?” you ask him.

It’s that unbothered tone and expression that makes him panic. Why are you so calm? He knew this day will come, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

“We both know this is not working out.” you tell him calmly.

“Baby,” he tries, causing the corner of your mouth to quirk up but it’s only for a second. It’s sarcastic that he remembered to call you that just now, when he barely called you anything in months. “Please.”

“Why don’t you go back to whoever you’ve been fucking behind my back?” you ask him, raising a brow at him.

He opens his mouth, a horrific expression decorating his pale face acting like it’s not obvious. At first it wasn’t, you were too blind at the beginning and then too stubborn to admit something your mind was telling you.

“Let me—“

“What? Explain? No, thanks. I’m done, Yoongi.” you tell him, turning around to grab your suitcases and just go.

When his hand grasps your wrist to keep you in place, your eyes snap to him ready to cuss him out but you’re speechless when you see the tears forming in his eyes.

“Please,” he begs, tears streaming down his cheeks. There were times when you’d cry at the sight, doing your best to comfort him but not now. Those times are gone.

Slowly, you pull your hand from his grip, ignoring his hurt face and how it scrunches both in pain and desperation.

Why is he suddenly acting so hurt over you leaving? 

“You should’ve seen it coming,” you tell him coldly, “Fucking someone behind my back— it was just a matter of time before I’d found out and I did. Long time ago but I’m done.”

Turning around, you take your suitcases and reach towards the knob to finally escape the suffocating air thanks to Yoongi. You don’t cry, you can’t and you don’t want you. You’ve already cried enough because of this man that proved to be someone that never deserved your tears. You’re numb to this.

“Before you go,” he speaks up, voice raising in panic when you’re about to open the door. “Is there something I can do to make this better?”

The regret in his voice is audible, but you don’t react to it at all. You see it written all over his face, he realized what he’s done and now that he sees you leaving from his apartment and life, there’s nothing but sorrow and pain screaming from him.

“Before I go?” you chuckle bitterly, “You went first, you went away first as soon as you decided to have sex with someone else.”

And that’s the final straw, he doesn’t deserve a second of your time and an ounce of your attention. Ending it with that, not answering him purposely because there’s nothing that could make this situation better, you take all of your stuff and leave out of his luxurious apartment. Before you fully walk away from him, you grab your keys — the ones he gave you before you even moved in — and you toss it on the floor. It lands right in front of his feet, tears streaming down his face as he looks at the keys. It still has the keychain he gave you.

The last thing he hears is the gentle thud of you closing the door, but to his ears it's the loudest sound he has heard. Along with his cracking heart but it just proves to be even louder.

#networkbangtan #bts angst #bts au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi drabbles #yoongi angst #bts smut #yoongi scenario #suga drabble #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts suga #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop angst #yoongi smut #personasintro

[iwhumpyou]

The Cost (Part 1)

Masterlist.  Wergild.

Taglist: @whumps-the-word, @swordkallya, @i-see-so-many-beautiful-stars.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Nerali hadn’t been able to stop wincing, though Aidan could see how hard she’d tried.  It was…disconcerting, to see his baby sister’s blank face ripple, breaking for a second as she bit the inside of her cheek, before resuming its neutrality, albeit with a fixed stare and more blinking.

“I’m sorry,” Robin murmured, and Aidan could see the tightness of her jaw, even as she efficiently examined Nerali’s arms.  Not rushing it, even as she tried to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Of course Jace hadn’t given her anything for the pain.  He had used her to break a blood curse to begin with, why would he care about her suffering?

(But he’d helped her. Healed her.  Had gotten enraged on her behalf.)

However, Aidan’s anger at Jace had currently been outstripped, for the first time in his memory, by his fury at Clarissa.

How dare she.  How dare she?!  Aidan hadn’t been willing to condemn Clarissa on Jace’s word alone, even as the guilt exuded off of her, but on Nerali’s?  He could. And he would.

He caught himself before he balled his hands into fists, and forced his anger off his face.  He was consciously aware that Nerali was staring at him, at all of them, that she seemed to think that this situation was in some way her fault, and Aidan did not want to promote that kind of thinking.

He had heard more than enough on the walk back home as Nerali alternated between apologies – without even apologizing for the right thing – and explanations that Aidan was sure she meant to sound reassuring, but ended up being horrifying.

He’d had to restrain from crushing her into a hug more than once, and had to force his rage off his face because apparently Nerali couldn’t tell the difference between being upset at her, and being upset on her behalf.  Had to force the sparks back down, because if there was ever a worse time for fire –

He would definitely prefer if Clarissa never come back, but it was a wishful hope.  It was now clear that Clarissa considered her position as clan leader the most important thing in her life and she would continue for her precious peace, regardless of what her own family felt.

Robin finally finished her examination and stepped back.  They all pretended not to hear Nerali’s sigh of relief.  Aidan twitched, because he recognized the expression on Robin’s face, and he would prefer to have this discussion where Nerali couldn’t hear, but his sister was staring at Robin curiously and he supposed that pulling Robin out of the room would not be subtle.

“It has healed slightly,” Robin said with a tremulous smile, “And there seems to be no sign of infection, though we should keep monitoring it.”

Aidan narrowed his eyes as Robin ducked her head.  “But this is curse damage,” she said quietly, “It’s beyond what I can heal.  I’m not sure any of the other clans have healers that can treat curse damage.”

“Won’t it heal normally?” Nerali asked, wide-eyed.

“I’m afraid not,” Robin said, her face pinched.  Nerali’s face twisted for a fraction of a second before it smoothed out.

Aidan hated it.  He hated that Nerali had to ever learn how to do that.  He hated it.

“What about the spring water?” Aidan asked, because it was one of the many things that had come up when Nerali was trying to convince them that Jace had treated her well.  “Will that help in healing?”

“Yes,” Robin said, her face still tight.  If only they had access to spring water. Aidan was not looking forward to the solution.  “Right now, I think the best medicine is some rest and time,” Robin said.

Nerali blinked at her, but didn’t directly contradict her as she hopped down from the table.  Aidan wanted to curse.  Nerali was the youngest, yes, but she wasn’t a child.  She could connect the dots well enough on her own, and smothering her without paying attention to her feelings was what had gotten them in this mess.

Davina stepped forward to draw Nerali away with murmurs about a careful shower and new bandages and sleep, and Aidan and Robin were left in the room.  Francis looked at them both, pressed his lips into a thin line, and left.

“We need that spring water,” Aidan said finally.

“And how do we get it?” Robin asked, tidying up her workplace, “Knock on Jace’s door and ask nicely?”

Aidan had been thinking on decidedly more larcenous terms than that, but he supposed it was difficult to explain away stealing when they were technically supposed to be allies.

He pointed that fact out to Robin, who huffed and shook her head.  “Jace’s made it clear he hates us.  He’s not going to give us magical healing water.”

“He doesn’t hate Nerali,” Aidan pointed out.  Aidan hadn’t entirely understood why not until Mirai had stepped forward.  So Jace had gotten his sister and his spring and he had clearly disliked the idea of handing Nerali back over to them.  He would part with the spring water for her sake. Maybe. 

“Do you want to send Nerali back to ask for some?” Robin asked quietly, not looking at him.

“No!” Aidan snapped on reflex.  No, Nerali was not leaving the compound for a long time.  (Not until Aidan stopped seeing her sightless eyes in his sleep.)  “No, of course not.”

“Then who, exactly, is going to go and ask for it?” Robin looked up.  Aidan felt his stomach drop into a pit.  That was…that was a good question.

Before Aidan had too much time to think about it, Francis returned.  “Clarissa’s back,” he said, tone clipped.

~#~

Clarissa had preached, multiple times, the importance of acting united in public.  Aidan wasn’t too sure whether ‘public’ extended to her once-best friend and his clan, but it probably did, given that Clarissa and Jace no longer seemed to be on speaking terms. 

So Aidan stood at attention alongside Robin and Francis when Clarissa returned, planning how to endure the long lecture she was about to give them.  He wished he could’ve barred her from the compound – Nerali deserved not to have to see Clarissa’s face ever again – but Aidan didn’t have the power to do that.  And Clarissa was still the clan leader. 

(Not his sister, though. Not anymore.)

But there was no lecture. Clarissa swept into the room – (her eyes were red, but Aidan didn’t care) – and stared at them for a long moment. She finally seemed to grasp that they were waiting for her to speak.  “How is Nerali?” Clarissa asked finally.

“Her wounds have healed slightly,” Robin said, tone clipped, words perfunctory, “But it’s curse damage. It will never heal fully.”

Clarissa winced, like Robin’s words had struck her, like she still cared about the wellbeing of her clan and family.

“Where is she?”

“With Davina,” Francis answered.  Clarissa nodded.

“Make sure someone is with her at all times,” she ordered.

(Too little, too late.)

“Of course,” Francis said. Clarissa nodded at him distractedly before leaving.  Presumably because she had more important things to do.  A dream of peace, finally achieved with her youngest sister’s blood. 

(Aidan wondered how much more blood would spill to keep the peace.)

“How long can we keep Nerali from Clarissa?” Aidan asked, once he was sure that Clarissa wasn’t in earshot.

“How long can we keep our injured baby sister from the head of our clan?” Robin asked, arching an eyebrow, “Perhaps thirty minutes, if we really put our minds to it.”

Aidan snarled and turned away from her.  Clarissa was stronger than them.  Perhaps all of them combined – Robin was good at healing and Francis with the details. Davina was almost as good as Aidan, though her specialty was water when his was fire.  They had never beaten Clarissa in a fair fight, not even fighting together.  Aidan wished he could.  He wished he could challenge her and kick her out and keep his baby sister safe. 

But he couldn’t.  He hadn’t.  And Nerali had horrific trauma from a curse that couldn’t be healed, except by magical water from their sworn enemies.

Not sworn enemies anymore, but Aidan was pretty sure Jace would view that as a technicality.

“Try your best, then,” Aidan said, heading for the door, “I’m not sure thirty minutes is enough, but I don’t want Clarissa anywhere near Nerali if I’m not there.”

“And where are you going?” Robin called after him as they followed him into the hall.

“You said that the magical water was the only thing that can help,” Aidan pointed out.

Francis stared at him blankly, and Robin frowned, “You can’t seriously be considering –”

“If not me, who?” Aidan cut her off.  “I don’t think Jace is going to let Clarissa within twenty yards of his compound.”

“You and Jace hate each other,” Robin said quietly, “You threatened to murder him.”

“Right now, Jace doesn’t have the greatest track record for returning my family members in one piece,” Aidan said coldly, “I’m not letting anyone else go.  Nerali needs the magical healing water and I’ll get it.”

“And you think Jace will agree?” Robin stared at him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“I’ll ask him politely,” Aidan said, even as a part of him raged at the thought, “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll ask him not-so-politely.”

“Aidan,” Robin said warningly and Aidan shrugged.

“It would be a shame if someone cursed that spring again,” Aidan said softly.  A curse only a willing elementalist could break.  (If he couldn’t get that water for Nerali, he would ensure it went to no one.)

Robin went pale. Francis had pressed his lips into a line so thin they almost disappeared.  “That will start a war,” Robin said, her lips almost bloodless.

“Peace was Clarissa’s dream,” Aidan reminded her, “Not mine.  All I ever wanted was to keep my family safe.”

And he would do anything for it.

~#~

The guards didn’t seem too inclined to either let him in or go fetch Jace, so Aidan amused himself by staying in their sightline and innocently starting fires.  Each fire was bigger than the last, and burned for a little longer before he put it out.  The last one flared in a particular fortunate gust of wind, scattering sparks in the direction of the compound wall.

The guards looked at each other.  One of them gave him a nasty glare and stalked through the gates.

Aidan smiled, and stopped playing with fire.

Jace appeared soon, dark bangs falling into eyes that narrowed upon seeing him.  Aidan forced himself not to sneer and walked closer, trying for a neutral expression, but settling for hiding his grimace.  Jace scanned the surroundings for a long moment, around Aidan, up at the trees, and towards his guards, before his gaze finally settled on Aidan.

“Where’s Clarissa?” he asked.

Aidan fought to keep his expression still, but judging from Jace’s raised eyebrows, a hint of his rage had bled through.  “Not here,” he said, as civilly as he could manage.

“And why are you here?” Jace asked, almost smirking, “Revenge?”  Aidan fought his shiver.  The look on Jace’s face was a familiar one, and one he never wanted to see again.

(“Stop!  Stop, please!”

“Aw, look, the rainbow baby can beg.”)

He did his best to ignore it.  “No,” Aidan said coolly, “I’m here to ask for your spring water.”

Jace looked surprised at first, and then cycled through different expressions until he landed on suspicion and disdain.  “And what makes you think I’ll give it to you?” Jace asked, raising a contemptuous eyebrow.

“Nerali needs it,” Aidan said, and watched Jace’s expression change again.  He looked almost guilty.  Good.  “Curse damage will never heal normally, but the spring water can help.”

Jace stared at him, his jaw set and face blank.

“Nerali broke your curse,” Aidan said, unable to stop the rage bleeding into his words, “She ended a decades-long blood curse of her own free will and you refuse to help her?”

“I never said that,” Jace replied coolly.

“Then give me the water,” Aidan said, taking a step forward.  The sooner he got it and the sooner he left, the sooner he’d be back home to block Clarissa from Nerali.

“I’m not giving the sacred waters of our clan to you,” Jace sneered and Aidan had to fight to resist the urge to lunge at him with fire-wreathed hands.

“You can’t put aside your disdain even to help the girl that saved your clan?” Aidan asked instead, his words as biting as he could make them.  Jace’s eyes flashed and he tensed, but before Aidan could see how much of a fight he’d provoked, the gates opened again – this time Mirai limped out.

Nerali had assured them that Mirai didn’t hold the almost-murder against her, but it was clear that Mirai was not fully healed yet, and the darkness in her eyes was a familiar one.  He knew what it felt like to be the second child – the spare, only useful if something happened to the glorious, shining, perfect heir.  To learn the same lessons that they did, but for a darker purpose. To move within the shadows, so their sibling always stayed in the light.

“I am perfectly willing to help Nerali,” Jace said through gritted teeth, his fists loosening with Mirai’s hand on his shoulder.  “I’m just not willing to deal with you.  My clan would be honored to welcome Nerali to recuperate with us.”

“If you think I’m willing to let her go anywhere alone,” Aidan snarled, “Especially now, you must’ve been dropped too many times on the head!”

Jace snarled again, and this time Mirai had to grab his arm to prevent him from advancing further. Aidan controlled his unease at Jace’s aborted lunge, and kept his head high.

“Nerali will be perfectly safe with us,” Jace settled for hissing, “After all, we weren’t the ones who told her that her life was worth nothing and then left her alone after a traumatic incident.”

Aidan balled his hands into fists.  He had tried.  But Clarissa had talked to her first and then Nerali had brushed them off and then she’d gone missing.  Clarissa had been convinced she was only hiding, and had refused to allow Aidan to stay at home and search for her. 

(He hadn’t tried hard enough.)

Aidan took a deep breath. He needed to try harder now.  Jace would never agree if Aidan kept antagonizing him.  He needed to find a third option – if Jace wasn’t willing to hand over his precious spring water unless it was directly to Nerali, then…

Jace could deliver it to their compound – no, he would never, and it would be better if he and Clarissa stayed far away from each other.

He could accompany Nerali on a walk every day to – no.  Too dangerous.  Nerali’s arms were all-but-useless and he wasn’t going to force her to make the walk every day.

(If Nerali was in Jace’s compound, she would be out of Clarissa’s reach.) 

A thought.  One he detested, but an idea nonetheless.  The benefits were too good to pass up.

“You can surely extend your hospitality to another, then,” Aidan said, as levelly as he could manage, “For the sake of Nerali’s safety.”

He would not abandon Nerali again.  No matter what it took.

“I don’t run a hotel for wayward elementalists,” Jace sniped.

“Abandoning Nerali to you would send the wrong message to her,” Aidan countered, “I mean, if you’re actually concerned about her.”

There was that flash of almost-guilt again.

“And who will I extend my hospitality to?” Jace asked.

Aidan raised an eyebrow. “Me,” he said.

Jace laughed – a short, harsh bark that ended quickly once he realized Aidan was serious.

“No,” Jace said, his voice quiet and serious, “No.  Your brother, perhaps.  Your healer sister, perhaps.  But you?  Clarissa’s shadow, an ever-burning fuse? You, who’s threatened me more times than I can count?  You, who I’ve never seen be able to control your temper?”  Aidan was controlling his temper right now by not lunging at Jace. “I will not have an out-of-control elementalist in my compound.  No.”

Aidan was not letting Francis or Robin wander into the lion’s den.

“What do you want, then?” Aidan asked.  He spread his hands, despite how much it rankled him.  “What’s your price for opening your gates to me and my sister?”

“What do I want?”  Jace seemed to find the question incredulous.  He turned to Mirai, who returned his gaze steadily.  He turned back to Aidan.  “I want to not be beset by idiotic elementalists.  Is that good enough for you?”

Aidan took a step closer. “Jace,” he said, fighting not to let his face twist and keeping the pleading note in his voice.  “She’s my sister. I will do anything to keep her safe.  What do you want?!”

Jace’s face went curiously blank.  “I am getting tired of being asked that question,” he said, and Aidan couldn’t decipher his tone.

“The suppression cuffs,” Mirai said, and they all turned to her.  She looked to her brother.  “If you’re worried about an out-of-control elementalist, we have the suppression cuffs.” She turned to Aidan.  “If you’re truly serious about protecting your sister, you’ll wear them.”

Suppression cuffs.  A part of Aiden went cold as memories clawed themselves out of the pit he’d slammed them down into.  Powerless and alone in the midst of an enemy clan.

But he already knew what his answer was.  “I agree to the terms,” he said, his voice hollow.

Jace looked to Mirai, and then to him, a battle warring on his face.  “Fine,” he spat finally, “If you wear the suppression cuffs, I will allow you to accompany Nerali.”

Aidan lowered his head in acknowledgement.  “You can expect us tomorrow,” he said, and left before he gave into the urge to start shaking.

Halfway home, he curled his trembling fingers into a fist and watched the sparks dance over his knuckles. It failed to warm him.

~#~

Part 2.

#whumpfic #wergild #arc: the cost #emotional whump #aidan is trying to be a good brother #the question is #how far will he go? #(and can I get him to break?) #(I'll certainly have fun trying)

[the-lulu-one]

Your Life Matters

The way my personality works is that, unfortunately, I care too much; I care to a fault. I love everyone; black, white, tanned, rainbow coloured… It doesn’t matter to me if you have translucent flesh and come from outer space. I don’t care what your skin looks like and I don’t care where you originate from. I don’t care if you’re human, animal or plant. All living things are equally important in their own way. 

There are millions of people who feel the same way as I do. Unfortunately, they are the ones who go noticed because we are too busy focusing our attention on those who make the most noise. We allow the squeaky wheel to capture our attention and manipulate our emotions.

The problem with caring to excess is that these emotions can easily override my sense of what is actually real, which means I end up suffering for no reason. Additionally, as a result of failing to examine my own mental and emotional processes, I put myself at risk of being blindly led to fulfill the selfish agendas of those who really couldn’t give a shit about me (or anyone else, for that matter).

I found the antidote to my excessive care in the practice of an equal amount of reason and logic. I study the facts and then some... I examine statistics before I can allow myself to form an opinion on anything. It is necessary, and the only way to function as a “normal” person in today’s world where we are constantly inundated with information (not all of which is factual, and much of which is based on people’s egos and the desperate need to appear like a moral human being.) It is called people pleasing. Therein lies the danger of following the crowd – people’s motivations are hidden, even to themselves. The result is not good.

If this movement is not about an innocent man being murdered by a corrupt cop, but rather, a black man being murdered by a white man. If this is about the police brutality and the justice system being fundamentally racist. If every single member of these institutions (including blacks, women and those who identify as LGBT) are racist. Then why are black people attacking everybody, without consideration or mercy? Worse yet, why are we actively encouraging it?

Why are we saying it’s okay to behave like criminals, like crazy people? Why is it totally acceptable to destroy all businesses (including the mum and pop stores that are barely surviving as it is)? Why are we saying it’s okay for people to post stolen items on social media, knowing they have ruined the lives of families and children who simply do not deserve such injustice? What about those guys? And what does it have to do with police brutality and racism?

Why are we encouraging people to leave bricks outside protest areas, knowing full well they will be used for destruction? Some people are just a-holes and like to sit back with a bag of popcorn and watch people hurt one another. That is how they get their kicks and it’s sickening. They have no investment in the cause and could not care less about racism. They don’t care that black people are losing their lives in these protests (17 and counting…) and that they helped contribute to such a tragic turn of events. They sleep perfectly well at night, while families grieve. Why has death become the answer to death?

Let’s imagine something for a moment. Let’s imagine that the statistics which show that white people get it just as bad as black people are in fact correct. (The sources that support this statement are incredible if you wish to venture outside the echo chamber.) Not only would this mean the system is hurting everybody, regardless of skin colour, it also means that all those white victims of police brutality and justice system unfairness died in vain. (If we hate white people so much, that fact alone should suffice for cause of celebration. Because racism is not okay. Unless it’s towards white people, yes?)

Getting back to my point, if just as many white folks are suffering at the hands of authority as black folks, then the problem truly is about police brutality and corruption of the justice system. Can we at least agree on this point? This is our enemy, not each other. This is what we should be fighting against. But we are not doing that. We are making all white people our enemy, which is so pointless and absurd that it does my head in. Yes, racism exists in the world. Yes, there are ignorant people walking among us. This cannot be helped. People are racist and ignorant all over the world, not just white folk areas.

In fact, what seems obvious to me is is that white people are the ones who are learning faster than the rest of the world that racism is simply not okay. Clearly, otherwise our little hearts wouldn’t be so hurt and we wouldn’t be fighting so hard. We simply wouldn’t care. White people fought to help end slavery. Does anyone remember this? It was called the American Civil War. It is behind us now. Why can’t we accept this glorious achievement in history? Racism and slavery is still practiced in other parts of the world, such as Africa and the Middle East. Why aren’t we focusing our efforts on this little problem? There are open air slave markets in Libya. That stuff should have ended in the Roman times, but it hasn’t. Nobody bats an eye though.

Why? Because facts require the effort of research and once we reach the Truth, it is really uncomfortable to share it with others. Per chance we might appear “racist”. And right now, all white people are shoved in the same category of racist. We really, truly cannot escape the label, and we dare not try, because we are too nice. And too scared. So we just let it continue and take it from every angle, even if we know ourselves to be loving and kind people. Name calling is the only way some people can make their point and it is something that’s very much on-trend these days. That and hating yourself for being white. 

Because self-hatred isn’t the number one most damaging thing to mankind or anything, and we don’t struggle enough with it, as it is. There aren’t enough self-help books published to help us out of such a toxic mentality. Yes, more guilt and shame is what we need, even if we weren’t personally involved in the enslavement of black folks and even if zero people in our bloodline were involved in such a hideous way of life. 

Let’s just hate ourselves for being white in the name of “solving” racism, because that makes heaps of sense. Let’s not communicate or brainstorm actual ides for it, because that’s uncomfortable. Let’s just self-flagellate till the end of time, to prove what wonderful, caring human beings we are, and how much we love everyone, clearly, because we hate ourselves. No. Just no.

Calling one another racist should not mean anything anymore because it’s become such a common go-to insult, but unfortunately it still has an effect on our fragile sense of identity. Feeling triggered? Name call. Losing a debate? Name call.  Here’s the thing: name calling is not an argument. It is what little children do in the playground because they haven’t yet developed their emotional intelligence. It is not what adults do.

We cannot continue to make emotional noises with out mouth holes and call it an argument. But because tribe mentality is part of our human nature, it’s easy to worry about what people think because nobody wants to be rejected and cast aside at the end of the day. It just isn’t a good feeling. But here’s another thing: we should not fear insults, because it is just sticks and stones. Our fear should center around conforming to illusion and bad ideas instead.

Here is yet another uncomfortable truth: racism is not about skin colour. I should know, I had white Australians as well as Indigenous Australians tell me to “go back to my own country” when I arrived as a newcomer. (I hate the word “immigrant” so I deliberately use “newcomer” instead.) They showed me how intolerant they were of those who didn’t speak a word of English and didn’t fit in with the Australian culture. Regardless of me clearly feeling scared and alone, and trying my best to assimilate to a foreign environment.

* Which is more than I can say for some cultures who refuse to assimilate and want literally everybody to work around their value system by using their “cultural beliefs” as an excuse to get away with horrific behaviour, such as domestic violence against children and the “traditional” practice of repression of women. This is unacceptable behaviour and nobody should stand for it. But we do, because we don’t want to appear racist. At the end of the day, we should be protecting women and children, no matter what.

But getting back to my story, what I was shown by whites and non-whites alike was that I was not welcome because I was different. It was that simple. A brutal lesson. Unfair. And had absolutely nothing to do with my porcelain complexion. It had everything to do with a fear of “other” and an incredible ignorance and laziness of mind to boot.

The looting, theft and violence of the Black Lives movement needs to find a different angle, because it is not about justice anymore. One cannot receive justice through violent acts. One cannot force justice onto society by inflicting pain on the innocent. Therefore, I truly believe that what is happening here is a long-waited for excuse to behave badly and get away with it. And we are all for it, cheering on the protesters and handing them bricks. (Feeling triggered? Name call.) The truth sucks, I know. I almost want to name call myself. But we need to look at this issue clearly with both heart and mind, and not just heart.

It makes me wonder what hope we have as a society when even health professionals are actively putting people at risk by saying “it’s okay to protest in these times”, knowing that social distancing rules will be broken and many people’s lives are at great risk. These professionals are directly going against their Duty of Care for their patients and the code of ethics initially agreed upon when they started their doctoring, or whatever it is they think they’re doing. 

The idea of putting my life in the hands of doctors now terrifies me, because they too are not immune to pushing their agendas onto people, and they too are scared of looking like they don’t support the movement and are therefore racist (because that makes soo much sense!)  If we cannot trust our own health care experts to stop encouraging us to protest at any cost then who can we trust? https://funnyjunk.com/Only+protestors+will+be+getting+sick/jqdmMwd/)

Some of us support the destruction going on around us, not because we are bad people. But because we are sick to our stomachs that racism actually exists and we are letting our emotions run away with us, hoping it will make a difference. What we actually need to do is step back and look at the bigger picture from a bird’s eye perspective and consider all angles. 

However, those of us who love a riot (until it affects us personally, of course) should review our value systems and what we pass down to our children, who are the future. As well as check that we’re not actually psychopaths. That would be a good start. This is what freedom of speech looks and sounds like. If such a thing truly exists (as it claims to do) then I should be allowed to have my say, like everyone else and not be crucified for it. I value freedom of speech. I need freedom of speech. I will hear everyone out, no matter what their point of view, as we are all learning how to properly human in this fucked up world. I will never stop people from expressing themselves. Ultimately, I will check all the facts but come to my own conclusion. As it should be. If I am wrong in the way I am perceiving this movement, I welcome the challenge of my ideas. I don’t mind civilised and honest debate as long as it is not a screaming contest and based on actual facts. I want to learn as much as I can about the world and the human condition, and I will never stop exploring. However I do reject name calling and unnecessary put downs in the name of “being offended”. Because, newsflash! Everybody is offended right now. I am offended, you are offended, the entire world is offended. That doesn’t mean we have to walk on eggshells around one another until the end of time. Please, can we not do that anymore?

In fact, there is great danger in submitting to that sort of game, as Steven Fry would agree: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJKXJNM3W-c&feature=youtu.be

* For some comedic relief after such a heavy topic, here is Steve Hughes’ video on being offended too. It’s much more light hearted but ultimately makes the same point. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHMoDt3nSHs

I am a human being, like everyone else, and I want to live in a better world. I want future generations to have a better planet in which to thrive. This requires me to speak my mind and I expect the same courtesy returned. We are not monkeys anymore; we have evolved from that. Let’s leave the past in the past and invest our energies on further growth and evolution. Let’s communicate. Let’s debate. Most importantly, let’s invest our very souls in the Truth, by allowing the antidote to our vulnerable sense of empathy to be introspection, hard research and the civilised sharing of ideas. It is the only way forward. 

May it be so.

#black lives matter #black lives movement #offended #white lives matter #police brutality #justice system #protest #introspectiontime #love #slavery #politics #the system #freedom of speech #freedom of thought #free speech #evolution #human species #racism #australia #skin color #culture #mom and pop #riots2020 #covidiot #covid-19 #covid2020 #2020

[hamliet]

On Banana Fish’s Ending

Welcome to the hell that is Banana Fish’s ending. If you like it it’s hell. If you hate it it’s definitely hell. If you’re like me somewhere in the middle but closer to “I don’t like this” it’s hell. We’re all suffering. 

Like any useless writer, I cope by writing out my feelings so here, have this.

I can see why some feel the ending narratively works in some respects, and in some ways I can even agree it can be read in certain ways that make it work. But I also think a happy ending could have been just as narratively excellent, depending on the execution, and my personal opinion is that this would have been a more responsible ending. But no one has to agree, and I understand why people hate the ending and why people defend the ending. 

I’m going to talk about this in a few segments: authorial statements, social messages, and genre. (I’m writing another meta on the narrative themes of the ending because that section got massively long.) For what it’s worth, a story does not exist in a vacuum, and while it’s absolutely valid to interpret and critique a story according to simply the written story, it’s also valid to weigh authorial intent (or to dismiss it), and to evaluate how the story plays into both larger cultural messages and larger literary trends. Any author 100% knows that their story will be interpreted according to all of these. But what follows is mostly my opinion/explaining why I feel as I do. It is not me saying anyone has to feel or interpret it the same way. 

Authorial Statements

I know Yoshida has made... contradictory and, frankly, offensive statements on the ending, in which she’s said things such as that Ash narratively had to die because he was a murderer and people who kill need to pay with their own lives. In general, Yoshida seems to struggle in interviews--like saying she hates Yut-Lung when the story’s moral center character (Sing) literally tells him in his last scene “I can’t hate you” and promises to help him redeem himself. This is hardly unique to her. It’s hard to explain a complex element of story in a few sentences of an answer. Ishida’s first interview after the end of TG had some cringeworthy moments, Rowling seems to make constant missteps (and retcons), etc. Hence, I generally employ “death of the author”--I think the author’s intent matters to the extent their work conveys their intent, but not if their work contradicts what they then say. 

The entirety of Banana Fish contradicts this idea of murderous karma. In fact, the story is at its core about finding a way out of a violent cycle, of finding freedom. Ash dying with a smile on his face literally says that he did not die trapped in a system of karmic violence with no hope of freedom. 

Not to mention Sing is a murderer. Yut-Lung* is a murderer. Blanca is a murderer. They all live, and get hopeful (even happy-ish) endings and implied redemption for Yut-Lung and for Blanca. 

*I know Yut-Lung is name-dropped as having been assassinated in a later manga called Yasha but like, he never actually appears in Yasha and it has nothing to do with his character’s arc in Banana Fish, so I don’t think it’s relevant to anything relating to Yut-Lung’s character as we know him. It’s really just an Easter egg, and since Yut-Lung dying in Yasha is a retcon of the fact that his arc ending with him living in the main story (Banana Fish) I feel completely free to disregard it as not actually canon.*

Additionally, Banana Fish takes empathetic looks at children who are suffering in a world where they are forced into the roles of prostitutes and killers, and what’s the point of empathy if it can’t change anything? Eiji is noted to basically be walking empathy, having a gift for comforting those around him, and the mutual, spiritual, and yes, romantic, love he and Ash share changes things for Ash (and for Eiji). To say that death had to happen narratively is to say that Eiji was, in the words of his critics, useless, which is rather at odds with the central emotional draw of the story: Ash and Eiji’s relationship. It contradicts Eiji’s beautiful letter, the one that Ash smiled as he died because of, because in this letter Eiji assures Ash: “you can change your destiny.”

So anyways, regardless of what Yoshida says, Ash being a murderer is not a narrative justification for the ending because that simply isn’t what the story conveys.

That being said, that perspective--that Ash’s death is karma for killing--is exactly Ash’s perspective. Just when he was about to overcome his flaw of not seeing his value by realizing how much he meant to Eiji, Lao reminds him of Shorter’s death, the one thing he cannot forgive himself for. And so Ash allows himself to die. But the thing is this perspective is wrong and narratively condemned. Eiji’s letter offers a counter to this, but Ash doesn’t take it (which is slightly inexplicable). Plus, as we see in “Garden of Light,” it leaves Eiji unable to completely overcome his flaw (an inability to act/truly live) for seven years, so the story condemns it too. 

And, of course, Ash also did not kill Shorter out of malice--he was forced into it, like he was forced into the life he had to live with Dino. It’s not the deaths of one of the people begging to be spared whom Ash killed for playing a role in killing Shorter, but Shorter’s death itself that brings about fear and mistrust in Lao. To have Ash’s death be a consequence for killing willingly (which he did plenty of), it should have been for one of those nameless people we got a brief shot of, instead of as a consequence for a murder Ash had no choice in and was a victim of almost as much as Shorter was. But that also wouldn’t work because a nameless death doesn’t quite suffice for offing your main character, so. Yeah. Ash’s death is not a narrative consequence for killing others; it’s expressly framed as a tragic and cruel result of his inability to forgive himself for specific acts that were not his fault. 

Social Messages Part 1: LGBT relationships

While Banana Fish was written in the 1980s-90s (kind of a dire time for LGBT+ people in the United States with the AIDS crisis), the trope of “bury your gays” has received rightful criticism since, and the ending can definitely be seen as “bury your gays.” (A criticism that is not helped by what happens to the gay/bi character in Yasha.) In other words, while I think the themes, characters, and frankly issues of Banana Fish are generally timeless, the ending is the only part of the story that I don’t think ages well. As time goes by, it will probably get even more criticism because of current society finally moving towards being better in the portrayal of LGBT+ characters. 

*Because I want to complain and explain why I really don’t consider anything post-GoL canon: the follow-up picture book “New York Sense” doesn’t help the “bury your gays” impression either: Sing and Akira are certainly intended to be parallels to Ash and Eiji as Akira is brought to the US by Ibe and interacts with gangster Sing in “Garden of Light,” and while such framing is very ambiguous/bordering on not being there in GoL the follow-ups absolutely paint a romantic framing to their interactions in GoL. They marry and raise a son, popping up in cameos in Yoshida’s other works. Hence it runs dangerously close to reading as the heterosexual couple introduced in the epilogue got the happy ending while the gay couple we spent 19 volumes with did not. Since Sing is also still heavily involved with the mafia in all of the follow-ups, this again contradicts narrative justifications for Ash’s death as karma. 

While I very much like Akira’s character, her romance with Sing isn’t just uncomfortable because of the above issue--it’s also uncomfortable because she is 13 and he is 23 in GoL (though their relationship doesn’t have to be read as mutually romantic there, and I don’t read it that way) and according to “New York Sense,” they marry when she is 18 which... implies things that seems very, very out of character for Sing, the series’ moral compass, and dramatically contradicts the skeevy adults preying on kids theme. It can also raise some cringe-worthy questions about why it’s framed as okay for the heterosexual couple but negatively (as it should be) for the people--who are primarily men--who assault Ash (and there is noted to have been a woman who assaulted him in “Private Opinion”). Like with Yut-Lung’s death, I just... don’t accept this retconning as canon. It contradicts the themes of Banana Fish as a story so I don’t have to.*

Social Messages Part 2: Abuse Survivors

For people who have been through abuse similar to Ash’s, in which choices over basic things like life, death, and your own body are taken from you, it’s honestly cruel to show someone who has spent their entire life suffering just about to grasp happiness, and then they die. It is fully valid to find this completely distasteful, and I do too.

But for me at least, one aspect that circumvents... some of the distasteful implication that Ash really was broken by things he had no choice in is the fact that Ash triumphed over his abusers first. Yet of course, having him die afterwards still hurts people who read the story and see themselves in a character like Ash, as it can reinforce the idea that abuse defines your life. 

I do wish (though I don’t think there’s a moral necessity) that more authors/creators would acknowledge that, in creating characters whom you in theory want people to relate to, see themselves in, root for, care about, you’re asking people to suffer with them as they suffer and if they die, grieve for them. Given the heaviness of Ash’s arc and the specific nature of his suffering (especially since it was horrifically emphasized in the story’s last arc with Foxx), the fact that Ash didn’t in the end overcome the message that he did not have value is going to be very painful for readers/viewers. (Lao missed his vital organs, so Ash really chose to die instead of getting help, because he chose to believe Blanca over Eiji, which... I’m not sure it quite works.) If you could have narratively had it end happily (and it absolutely could have, and apparently Yoshida’s editor told her not to end it with Ash’s death), there’s room to say that going with the tragic ending is hurtful and bordering on irresponsible. 

Genre

That defeat of Ash’s abusers is the reason I don’t think Banana Fish is quite as tragic as other stories like, say, the first Tokyo Ghoul or Hamlet or Macbeth, though it’s certainly tragic. In those stories, every single characters’ flaws lead to them dying, and it offers a cautionary tale. Banana Fish is more in the vein of say, Romeo and Juliet, or even the movie Titanic (I’m not making a romance comparison, for the record), in that the main characters might die, but their choices and the people they loved and how they loved manage to save a city, in the case of Romeo & Juliet, or to save Rose in the case of Titanic. In Banana Fish, Ash did help Eiji live, even if Eiji would need time to process it after the set-back of Ash’s death. 

In other words, even if I’m unhappy with it and I am, I don’t consider Banana Fish’s ending nihilistic. It wasn’t “life sucks and then you die,” at least not to me. Life sucked, but it also meant something, even beyond Ash’s relationship with Eiji. Ash’s life had value. Through saving Sing in the story’s climactic battle, and then helping Max with that article that would save other child prostitutes, Ash saved younger versions of himself. That’s powerful. Not only that, but Ash found love and hope in his personal life as well with Eiji, Max, Shorter, etc., and through that genuine happiness. Even if he couldn’t fully grasp it, he knew it was there, and he died knowing there was genuine, true love, and therefore beauty, in the world too. And that, for me, comes across as far more hopeful than surface-level, cheaper happier endings. But still, the fact that Ash couldn’t fully experience this beauty and happiness because of the cycle of violence he had no choice about being involved in, plus a questionable character decision, does leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. (That questionable character decision, with the letter not having a full effect, makes tragedy seem a bit forced on Yoshida’s part.)

I want to quote Arthur Miller’s “Tragedy and the Common Man,” and I’ve highlighted parts I think explain how I feel about Banana Fish and Ash’s character (in particular, why I don’t think a tragic ending necessarily sends a nihilistic message, at least not to me):

The Greeks could probe the very heavenly origin of their ways and return to confirm the rightness of laws. And Job could face God in anger, demanding his right and end in submission. But for a moment everything is in suspension, nothing is accepted, and in this sketching and tearing apart of the cosmos, in the very action of so doing, the character gains "size," the tragic stature which is spuriously attached to the royal or the high born in our minds. The commonest of men may take on that stature to the extent of his willingness to throw all he has into the contest, the battle to secure his rightful place in the world.

There is a misconception of tragedy with which I have been struck in review after review, and in many conversations with writers and readers alike. It is the idea that tragedy is of necessity allied to pessimism. Even the dictionary says nothing more about the word than that it means a story with a sad or unhappy ending. This impression is so firmly fixed that I almost hesitate to claim that in truth tragedy implies more optimism in its author than does comedy, and that its final result ought to be the reinforcement of the onlooker's brightest opinions of the human animal.

For, if it is true to say that in essence the tragic hero is intent upon claiming his whole due as a personality, and if this struggle must be total and without reservation, then it automatically demonstrates the indestructible will of man to achieve his humanity.

The possibility of victory must be there in tragedy. Where pathos rules, where pathos is finally derived, a character has fought a battle he could not possibly have won. The pathetic is achieved when the protagonist is, by virtue of his witlessness, his insensitivity, or the very air he gives off, incapable of grappling with a much superior force.

Pathos truly is the mode for the pessimist. But tragedy requires a nicer balance between what is possible and what is impossible. And it is curious, although edifying, that the plays we revere, century after century, are the tragedies. In them, and in them alone, lies the belief-optimistic, if you will, in the perfectibility of man.

This applies to basically all tragedy, of course, but I think some tragedies are more hopeful than others. And I see that struggle in Ash’s, and a hope in Banana Fish that I don’t see in other more nihilistic stories. Ash fought to reclaim the humanity that people tried to deny him, and through Eiji realized his humanity was there all along. 

Anyways, these are my complicated, all-over-the-place feelings on the ending. It’s fine for people to feel strongly either way, but also understand that when discussing such a heavy, fundamentally triggering work, it’s good to be sensitive to where people are coming from and interact with differing opinions with empathy. Many of us relate to characters like Ash, Eiji, and Yut-Lung, and since you don’t know where someone is coming from, let them express their feelings, and be kind. 

I’ll post another meta on thematic impressions on Banana Fish later. But to each their own. Also please note, again, this is really just my opinion. 

#ash lynx #banana fish #banana fish ep 24 #eiji okumura #asheiji #yut-lung lee #yue lung lee #sing soo ling #shorter wong #lao yeon-tai #lao yen-thai #banana fish meta #banana fish ending #ramblings #akimi yoshida

[harleyquilt]

Beware The Green-Eyed Monster Pt.2

Summary: Touka is worried about the stress Kaneki is going through in the TSC, but he refuses to be upfront about it. And so, she decides to take matters into her own hands...

Words: 6441~

Notes: So, uh, this is a sequel, I guess. I decided to make Kaneki the jealous one in this one, because damn, he’s cute when he’s jealous. It’s also a set two years after the whole dragon mess, just for context. Anyhow...hope you enjoy!

Kaneki, as of late, was anxious about something. What it was, Touka couldn’t tell, but she knew there was something. The TSC, the group that was supposedly replacing the CCG, was asking for his presence more often than usual lately. She understood that as Kaneki was responsible for the destruction of Tokyo, despite it not truly being his fault, he had much to repay for. She may not completely agree, but she at least understood the circumstances. Still, she had a good feeling that whatever was making Kaneki worry was related to these frequent meetings. However, whenever she tried to pry the answer from Kaneki, he’d always dismiss his stress and reassure her that everything was okay, even though it clearly wasn’t.

In truth, Touka felt almost regretful that she couldn’t be of better help to him. Everything was a mess and even after two whole years, there was still much to rebuild and repay. Touka also had her hands full trying to take care of Ichika. She had plenty of support, of course, and though Kaneki had his own debts to pay in the TSC, he was the best father anyone could ask for. Yet, whilst she was being given all this support, she only wished to extend this support to Kaneki. He was still her husband and best friend, after all, and he needed just as much support as she did.

If she had said this to Kaneki, she was sure he’d simply retort with gushing comments of how much she already supported him - he was too predictable. No, she wanted to do more. She may not be able to undo the horrific trauma and experiences he had to go through - even with his amnesia with Haise, he continued to suffer - that was simply something they’d have to live with together, but perhaps she could at least try to help alleviate the workload he was being given. The only question was how and to know how, she needed to know what was it the TSC are placing onto his shoulders. Now Nishiki did warn her to try not to stick her nose into other people’s business, and before she would have agreed, but she had noble intentions in mind. That should be enough to justify her actions.

Kaneki walked into the kitchen when Touka was thinking these thoughts, his tired eyes blinking slowly as he ruffled his dramatically messy bed hair. Walking over, he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on top of her head as he yawned. She nudged him with her elbow with a smile, whilst all the while, she mischievously thought out her plans for tomorrow when Kaneki would likely be asked into the TSC headquarters again.

“What are you thinking?” He kissed the top of her head before moving on to make coffee for the two of them. “You seem deep in thought.”

“I’m thinking about how disgusting these apples are.” Touka sneered at the slices of apples before her and she held her nose as she dropped the contaminated knife into the sink. “Why does it have so much blood? It’s so sticky and it’s unavoidable too. And the smell…”

“Well, first of all, it’s called juice.” She dumped them into a bowl for Ichika, throwing each one in with more and more disgust and rage. “And secondly, you ate a bunch of them when you were pregnant. It’s no wonder its her favourite.” Touka glared at Kaneki then, mumbling an accusation that it must be from his side of the family. “No no no, my favourite was hamburg steak…I should cook it for her one day.”

“If you do,” she placed the bowl on the living room table, “makes sure you give out the warning to evacuate.” Looking over to him with a smirk, waiting for him to insist once again that they should cook together, she saw him smile a goofy, blushing smile that left her heart fluttering. Out of panic, she threw a slice at him and lurked off to Ichika’s room as he was left sputtering at the apple blood.

. . .

Kaneki was in the shower and the small, chubby Ichika rolled on the floor, gnawing away at the apple slice she had in hand. And all the while, Touka sat in her seat with her coffee in hand, thinking intensely on how she should execute her plan. Kaneki was easy to conquer in his own ways, though if it was something too dangerous, he’ll act more defensive than he usually would be. That wasn’t to suggest that Touka wouldn’t be able to sway him to let her help, it would just offer insight into what exactly his problem was.

As she was left thinking, she watched Ichika roll back to the bowl of apple slices, her legs wobbling as she pulled herself onto her feet. When she realised that she had finished all her slices, she fell back onto the floor, turning the bowl this way and that as she watched with wide eyes. She then broke out into a smile and placed the empty bowl onto her head, laughing as she called for Touka.

“A disguise? No, that wouldn’t work.” Picking Ichika up, Touka wiped her mouth and hands whilst trying to ignore the sour stench of the apples. Ichika, whilst still laughing, stack out her tongue and blew a raspberry right in front of Touka’s face. “Spit in his face? Bold, but no. Though I like your style.”

Kaneki, with some alarm, watched as Touka reminisced these words. Whoever this person was, Kaneki sincerely hoped it wasn’t him. Though, even with his hopes that it wasn’t him, he knew deep down that it was. It was clear she was up to something, considering that she was in this trance-like state the majority of the whole morning, and whatever it was, it concerned him. He worried, for a moment, that it was due to her finding out about him breaking her favourite mug. He knew he shouldn’t have blamed it on Ayato, but he just couldn’t stand the pressure. Ah, all this guilt was too much. First he blamed his saviour, and now he was lying to his wife. She was planning her revenge, wasn’t she?!

“I’m sorry, Touka-chan!” Both Touka and Ichika turned to see Kaneki bowing on the floor, who was mostly naked with only a towel wrapped around his hips. “I won’t do it again!”

For a moment, Touka thought she was perhaps found out, even though that was technically impossible. Perhaps one of those new organs of his gave him the ability to mind-read. It was silly, but they were a species that shot out giant organ weapons from their backs. Regardless, she explained that she had no idea what it was he was apologising for and he remained still for a moment. When he finally lifted his face, it was red with embarrassment and walking away with slump shoulders, he muttered another apology for his silliness. Ichika, being the wonderful daughter she was, decided to show her support by pointing at her father whilst laughing at him.

Later that day, they decided to go out, since the weather was pleasant enough. More importantly, though, Kaneki finally had time to spend with his family. The work in the TSC was important, so Touka never held it against him, but due to their increasing demands for his presence, he was left having little time to himself. Whatever time he did have he’d spend with Touka and Ichika, despite his exhaustion. She would insist that he should spend this time resting, recovering his energy in whatever way he could, yet he would simply say that he’d rather be with his family. She didn’t doubt his words - his love for his family and friends were clear as day. What she did worry about was the fact that Kaneki was overworking both his body and mind. Since the tragedy of two years ago, he has opened up about his experiences, both from recent years and those of his past, and he decided to try to seek out more help from those around him. Even so, there were things he still had to deal with, like the nightmares he’d have every few weeks, or the depressive episodes that left him miserable and fatigued.

At first, she thought perhaps the work at the TSC would help distract him until they could sort it out together. Yet, with the more work he was receiving and the more time he spent having to deal with their continuous jobs, it was becoming clear that these jobs were not in any way helping him. If anything, it was only leading to more stress when he should be healing. All that progress he has made since the tortuous days before almost felt wasted when she saw him return home late at night, heavy bags under his eyes and body weak from the tiredness he carried. It was painful to watch and worst of all, she couldn’t seem to do anything about it. Or rather, he wouldn’t allow her to do anything about it in fear that she’d simply burden the same pressures he had to, especially with Ichika to look after. He was still too gentle, in the end.

Touka, Kaneki and Ichika sat under a tree in the park, a blanket under them and more apple slices placed down for the small brat. Touka leaned into Kaneki’s side, resting her head against his shoulder and she smiled at the small nervous hesitance he had when placing an arm around her, pulling her closer. They’ve been together for so long now, and still, he acted as if they had just gotten together. She never tired of his lovable reactions; the way he’d break into a smile every time she’d laugh, or how he’d always call her beautiful in bed. It was as if no time had passed at all and she couldn’t help but feel relieved. Even with everything going on, he was still the same Kaneki with her - though of course, this wasn’t to mean that he couldn’t be honest with himself during these moments.

“This is nice.” Kaneki sighed. He was now counting with Ichika, though she couldn’t manage beyond the first number, and he looked back at Touka, an almost somber look in his expression. “I know we should be doing this more often. I’ve been so busy lately.”

Touka was silent for a moment, perhaps waiting for him to continue. Sitting up, she faced him directly, their eyes meeting. “Why won’t you tell me what it is you’ve been doing lately? Maybe I can help.” He shook his head almost immediately before she pinched his cheeks between her hand. “Don’t give me that. If you won’t tell me, I’ll just have to come along with you tomorrow and see for myself.”

There were several things he wanted to say. “But what about Ichika?” He finally asked, his words garbled from her pinching. Indeed, a decisive move, trying to use Ichika as a cover, even though what he said wasn’t exactly wrong. “Someone will look after her. It’ll only be one day, isn’t that right Ichika?” They both turned to their child, who was busy trying to catch an ant. “See, she agrees and so it’s settled. I’ll join you at work tomorrow, see what it is I can do.”

She leaned back down, resting against him and he was left worrying whilst thinking about the next day. Deep down, he was undeniably excited to have Touka with him for the day, since he always felt somewhat lonely after spending so little time with her. Still, she had no interest in this business, hence why she kept her distance both now and the time they spent underground. She was only joining him because she was concerned for his well being, which was another worry of his. Because he wasn’t able to deal with his own problems, he was now dragging in Touka, when he didn’t want to trouble her at all. Perhaps it won’t be so bad, accepting help. She was much more firm than he was, after all...Ah, he should probably warn the others then.

“O-Okay, we can go to the TSC together then.” He cleared his throat and Touka smiled, hugging him tighter. Both knew that she didn’t need permission - she was going to go along whether he wanted it or not - but it was nice that this was something they could now face together. “Um...What exactly are you going to wear?”

. . .

Kaneki watched Touka with mouth agape and jaw slacked, amazed and astounded at the glorious sight before him. She turned in front of the mirror, dressed in office wear - a pencil shirt, a rose-pink blouse, a waistcoat and a ribbon tie. She was even trying on his glasses, which kept on slipping down her nose. He was a fool, how could he be so naive. He thought it’d be a fun time, having Touka besides him for the day, but he failed to foresee the torment he’d have to go through with her looking so beautiful like this. He was a damn fool!

Meanwhile, Ichika entertained herself by tangling one of Touka’s necklaces with her hands, her bracelets and bangles hanging off her small arms. When her mother asked her for her opinion on her new look, Ichika offered a beaming smile, the bracelets clanking together as she gave her applause. Touka then turned to her gawking husband, who was still staring with a starstruck gaze. With his mind distracted, his tie tangled around his hands and she rolled her eyes, deciding to help him out.

“And what do you think, Mr. Kaneki.” Touka first gave a cheeky smile before she realised she wasn’t sure how to tie a tie herself. She ended up tangling it up even more. “How do...these things-”

Kaneki leaned in, catching her off guard with a small kiss. It was only for a moment, yet she was left breathless. He grabbed her hands and took them away from the now knotted tie, holding them between his. “You look gorgeous. I think you coming in today is really going to help. Sorry for being so weird about it before.” She looked away for a moment, lifting a hand to hide her small smile. However, before either could say any more, Kaneki caught sight of Ichika scribbling her face with lipstick.

Touka was now in the kitchen, scrubbing away Ichika’s unusually red cheeks whilst Kaneki cleared away the makeup. It baffled the two of them that this two year old, who could barely walk, was able to reach the top of the drawers whilst they had their backs turned for a brief few minutes. They knew she was a miracle child in a sense, but this was going too far. Regardless, they had other things to focus on.

As soon as Ayato and Hinami arrived to look after Ichika, they left to go to TSC. Throughout their journey, Kaneki couldn’t seem to calm down. His eyes continued to wonder back to her every now and again and he took any and every chance he could to hold her hand. It was ridiculous - he was acting as if this was their first date. Was he really that miserable before? Did she simply not notice how much he had to go through? Or...was this how he usually was around her in public? Perhaps she was somewhat more self conscious since it had been a while since it was just the two of them going out together. Though going out to his job wasn’t exactly- Nevermind. As long as he was happy, she couldn’t complain.

The TSC building was as regular as any other office building, nothing like the dramatic designs of the previous CCG buildings. She shouldn’t be too surprised, since they couldn’t waste resources trying to make a statement. The city was still in repair and the TSC didn’t have the time or space to set up something extravagant. Even so, the interior reminded her of the CCG, though that was perhaps due to the personnel rather than the actual layout. It was, at the very least, nothing as intense as what it once was. There were ghouls mixed in with the humans and those horrid gates were nowhere in sight - it was certainly an improvement, in its own way.

Touka would be lying if she said that she’d never considered partaking in this organisation. Again, this was a vast improvement with the hunted now being comrades with the hunters and hopefully, in the future where perhaps Ichika can grow up in, such bitter rifts between two species will no longer exist. She tried not to hope for too much, especially with everything that happened, but it was...uplifting to witness this union, any union really, form between them. At the end of the day, it was clear that this union only occured because they now have a common enemy to fight against, though it was hopefully a good step into a better relationship between humans and ghouls. Nonetheless, Touka ultimately felt that she had no place in these organisations. Despite her hopes for a united future, she still couldn’t forgive the humans for what they did to her and her friends, even if she didn’t hate them as one collective group. Such conflictive feelings like that would make her unfit to serve something so sincere. She was fine with that, Kaneki was too. Besides, she wanted to open another cafe one day, hopefully.

As they made their way through the building, Touka became increasingly aware of the eyes watching both her and Kaneki. With her, she could understand - she wasn’t technically supposed to be here, she was bound to get a few confused stares. Then there was Kaneki, where it was almost an obligatory look they gave him. It wasn’t on the same level as when they were in the underground, the ghouls preaching him as their nameless king whilst he passed by. Instead, these people sent off a mixture of vibes. Some still saw him highly, it was clear as day, and those people were obviously ghouls. The humans, on the other hand, were more hesitant with their intent. She wasn’t too surprised to see that even after all this time, he was still given looks of spite and disgust and she couldn’t hold it against them, not really. Still, she was tempted to kick their asses for such looks, even if Kaneki acted as if he couldn’t see them. So, this was what he had to face every time he came here. She wasn’t exactly sure how he managed to deal with the judgement. Another reason why she kept herself away from this business.

They eventually ran into Tsukiyama, who was now apparently a representative for the United Front. Not that she had any idea what that meant. She was sure he explained it before, and Kaneki, and Nishiki, and most others, but it was clearly too boring for her to bother remembering.

“Ah, Kirishima-san. You look elegant today.” Tsukiyama clasped his hands together, nodding his head in approval of her outfit. Even though he was the one who picked out the outfit for her. “And what a pleasure it is to see you here with your beloved husband. Let us hope you won’t be too big a distraction.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, stupid-yama. I’m here for serious business.” She grabbed Kaneki’s shoulder, making him jump in response. “To be more specific, I’m here for maintenance. I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

“Ah, Touka.” Hide popped up from behind Tsukiyama and he gave a small wave at the couple. Including a look of sympathy for Kaneki. “We’ll help you in any way we can. I talked to Marude and he agreed to let you hang out with us for the day, granted that you don’t cause a ruckus or anything.”

“First of all, Marude never agreed, you just left the room before he could reply.” Tsukiyama smirked then, tapping his chin with his finger, as if in deep thought. “And this is Touka Kirishima we’re talking about. I’ll be surprised if the the building is still intact once the day is-”

Touka stamped on Tsukiyama’s foot, careful to make sure her stiletto heel would precisely hit his biggest toe. His face froze up on the impact and Kaneki and Hide exchanged nervous looks before they slowly lurked away, insisting that they heard someone calling for them. With a triumphed grin, she joined the other two.

They entered what looked like a meeting room, a table extending around the sides of the room. At the front sat Marude with his associate Mabuchi sat by his side, Hide and Kaneki taking a seat nearby. Tsukiyama, who was pale and sweating, took his seat in the front next to Banjou and others started to arrive, filling up the empty spaces around the room. They all greeted her and to her surprise, they were incredibly friendly. She didn’t suppose that they knew that she was a ghoul, not that it should make a difference to begin with, and she couldn’t help but feel somewhat flattered by the friendliness. Both men and women complimented her look and some even recognised her as Kaneki’s wife, showing their own respect for her position. What this position was, she wasn’t sure. Some even went as far as to call her queen. It astounded her, in some ways, that she was seen in such high regard. A part of her knew that she didn’t truly want to be seen as some goddess and be worshipped the same way Kaneki was, and yet...Well, she’ll only be here for this one day, and for Kaneki’s sake too, so she might as well indulge herself for the time being.

. . .

Kaneki was pouting. Or rather, he was glaring. No, to be precise, he was both pouting and glaring and the corner of his mouth twitched every now and again. Hide watched with some worry and followed his gaze, which was directed towards Touka. She was surrounded by a few members of the TSC and they all seemed taken away with her. It was possible they mistook her for a new employee, though he heard some of them mention her name every now and again. Either way, Kaneki appeared to be uncomfortable with this turn of events.

“What are you glaring at?” Hide nudged him and Kaneki shook his head, returning back to the usual gentle expression he wore. He insisted that it was nothing, his hand moving up to rub his chin. Hide gave him an unimpressed look before turning back to watch Touka. “My my, she’s very popular, that wife of yours. Just like back at the cafe. She certainly catches everyone’s attention.”

“Of course she does. She’s amazing.” Despite his kind, disgustingly sappy words, there was a clear sharp undertone to his voice. Hide grinned and sat back, Kaneki raising a brow. “What? What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?” Hide ignored him and instead checked his nails whilst replying only with a shrug. “Look, I’m not bothered by this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s no reason for me to be jealous. I’m being silly and immature.”

“Ah, so you admit that you’re jealous.” Kaneki coughed loudly over his words as Touka approached them. After apologising for being distracted by the others, she took her seat behind them. Kaneki took a deep breath and Hide leaned in, his voice now a whisper. “C’mon, dude. She came here for you and you alone.” He nodded, now relaxing some more. “And she’ll be here allll day, so try not to lose your cool by the end of it.” Kaneki shoved him away, grumbling how this was just another punishment he had to face.

The meeting went on as usual, everyone stating their reports on the progress of Tokyo’s rebuilding. The TSC school was running smoothly, apparently, but the threat of the beasts Furuta created remained at large. It had been on everyone’s mind that these beasts became less beast-like and more intelligent as time went on. It was undeniable at this point, even if they were still a far cry from being sentient species. The dots were being connected and theories began to spread; they were, perhaps, the connection between humanity and ghouls, more significantly the origin of the ghouls to begin with. Though, even that was a large leap in terms of theories. Regardless, they were still a threat...Their development would have to faced another time, when they are no longer rampaging monsters thirsting for meat.

Touka sat quietly, listening in every now and again, and she waited patiently for the end. At times, she was tempted to add some of her own input, but any comment she had would usually be said by someone else. They were more open-minded than she expected, especially towards improving the community between human and ghouls. Still boring, though. At the very end, they started assigning different tasks. Marude stood, pointing at a map with different events scattered across. The room was mostly empty by the time the main members were being addressed. Kaneki’s hands awkwardly clasped on the table, his head somewhat bowed. Hide took notice and glanced back at Touka with a small Frown. She shuffled in her seat, kicking his chair. He looked back and she offered him a thumbs up, Kaneki smiling in return.

“Kaneki-kun.” Marude turned to him next. His voice was raspy and his face was sunken with age. The director certainly seemed like a tired man. “I’m sorry to ask this but…” He started to list various tasks, from helping to find a missing peacekeeper, to speaking with a rebel ghoul who specifically demanded Kaneki’s presence. Touka winced with every new, ongoing task, alongside the others who all felt equally as sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, but doesn’t this seem ridiculous?” Touka stood with a frown, voice stern and blunt. Kaneki smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and Tsukiyama and Hide smiled with some gratitude.

“Miss Kirishima.” Marude sighed, tossing aside his clipboard. “I am very aware of how extreme this is-”

“But?”

“But...I don’t know what I can tell you. I really do try to make this easier for Kaneki, but it’s hard to convince people that he isn’t some villain that needs repentance.” Touka was confused at first and it showed, Marude continuing to explain. “Dangerous issues like these- it’s easy to simply make Kaneki take responsibility with the justification that he caused the issues to begin with.” She was about to protest, but he held up a hand, cutting her off. “I really do understand, it’s not as if I agree with these people. Well, not entirely anyway. Besides, Kaneki accepts the jobs, so I’m not going to waste my time changing his mind. Now, if you don’t mind, I want some coffee.”

He left the room, along with his assistant, and the room was left silent. Touka, with hands on hips, looked down at Kaneki and he could only smile awkwardly once again. Hide, sensing the tension, decided to drag Tsukiyama and Banjou out of the room before anything could be said. Kaneki flinched when the door shut, his eyes slowly moving back to Touka’s disapproving face. However, rather than her directing her complaints at him, she simply sighed and sat back down.

She came all this way to help him and she was useless. What was she really expecting? It wasn’t as if she was any kind of authority and even if she was, the people demand him to make up for his mistakes. What was probably most painful was the fact that Kaneki accepted this tremendous burden without hesitance. He was clearly still blaming himself for the tragedy. It was hard not to, she could understand this, but still...to think that he still felt this big a need to prove himself.

Kaneki watched with some concern, tilting his head to one side. Touka was clearly troubled by this, more so than he expected. He wasn’t exactly sure why she came here besides the fact that he could possibly use some company. She looked so disappointed at herself. Not him. Herself. Even though, just a moment ago, she went as far as to protest against the workload he was receiving. He might have accepted the work to begin with, but to see her so unhesitatingly defend him was touching and he hated to see her scold herself for such efforts.

“I’m sorry, Kaneki.” Touka finally said, leaning back against her seat. “I was no help at all. I couldn’t give you the break you needed.”

“Ah, is that what this was all about?” Kaneki took her hand into his and shuffled his seat closer to hers. “You don’t need to worry-”

“But I do. I can’t help it, when you return home, barely awake. I can’t stand it. And yet, here you are, allowing them to walk all over you.” He was about to lower his face then, in guilt of having Touka worry so much, but she cupped his face in her hands, turning him to face her. “You don’t need to keep proving yourself, you understand? Whatever hatred you feel for yourself, it will be forgiven. And if it isn’t, then we’ll just have to accept it and move on.”

Her head leaned against his and he watched with eyes wide with surprise. He placed his hands over hers and leaned up to plant a soft kiss against her lips. “You’re amazing, Touka-chan.” He chuckled and pulled her into a tight hug. “If I knew it’d make you worry so much - and ruin my health, it seems - I would’ve perhaps rejected Marude some more.” Touka mumbled that he was a liar and Kaneki couldn’t deny. At least, with Touka here, he could be more confident with himself. “Unfortunately, it seems my day is already set out for me. I’ll start taking care after this.”

As she listened to his calm heartbeat, his hand rubbing slowly against her back, she thought to herself for a moment. She thought deeply. It was still the beginning of the day and the long list of tasks were half filled with mundane jobs anyone could do. With an idea in mind, she then stood abruptly, Kaneki waiting for her to explain whatever it was she was thinking. However, rather than an answer, she quickly rushed out the room without another word, leaving Kaneki all alone.

. . .

When Kaneki left the meeting room, he roamed around the different offices calling for Touka. She was nowhere to be found and he worried for a moment that she could possibly be lost. Then again, knowing her, if she were to find herself lost, she’d simply smash the nearby window and leap down to the streets. Worryingly, that was the least of his concerns.

Eventually, he spotted her in the break room making coffee. When he looked closer, he realised she wasn’t just making one for her. Standing next to her was a pretty high ranking TSC member and they seemed noticeably interested in what Touka had to say. She then offered them a cup, a kind, heartwarming smile on her face. Before he knew it, Kaneki found himself lurking behind the door, glaring daggers at this clearly presumptuous and rude coworker of his. They were now laughing and they were complimenting her on her coffee. Of course they would, but how dare they!

When the coworker started to head towards the door, Kaneki moved to the other wall, trying his best to look natural. They greeted them as they walked past and Touka soon followed behind. She didn’t notice Kaneki at first as she watched the coworker head around the corner, and she jumped when she finally turned to her husband. He wanted to ask her what it was they were doing, besides drinking her coffee, but she almost immediately left, leaving Kaneki alone once again. He took a deep breath, and then another, though he found himself pouting once again. He slapped his cheeks, scolding himself, and he decided to go ahead and try to find Touka again.

As he tried to predict where he’d find her next, he saw her in the worker’s lounge, a few people sat besides her. They were all laughing, bonding over whatever it was they were talking about. Kaneki’s heart began to twist then, a sharp stab of loneliness holding him back from joining them. To think she’d get along so well with the others...There was nothing wrong with it, she was always likable, yet he couldn’t help but crave her attention once again. It was incredibly immature, he knew, especially since he was her husband and they had a child. And still, here he was, wondering why it was she desired their company over his. Maybe she was simply trying to stay out of his way, or entertain herself, since he took on all those jobs. This...was his fault, wasn’t it? He should’ve paid more attention-

His thoughts were then cut off when another worker leaned forward, brushing aside her hair with the claim that it was beautiful. Now Touka was blushing. Whenever he compliments it, she would shove him away and hide her face. This was hardly fair! With this new resolve bubbling up within him, he decided to head straight to Touka and take her away from these undeserving people. However, when he walked into the lounge, she was gone once again.

. . .

It was lunchtime and most people were now in the cafeteria or cafe, leaving the main offices mostly empty, spare for the one or two workers catching up with their issued jobs. With a deep breath, Touka smoothed out the creases in her suit and looked around for Kaneki. She noticed him snooping around for her before, though he stopped following her at one point. She was tempted to go back for him, yet she knew it’d be worth it if she carried on ahead and explained later.

She found Hide, Tsukiyama and Banjou seated at their usual desks and she asked them if they had seen Kaneki. Considering the jobs he had to do, it shouldn’t have been too surprising to hear that he went out to start some of them. And so, she decided to wait for him by hanging out with the others, catching up on whatever she missed the past few months. While the chatter did pass the time, Touka found herself impatient for Kaneki’s return, more so now than she usually was and within a few hours, she found him enter the room with a bunch of flowers in hand. In her mind, she mentally facepalmed.

The three others began to collectively snicker and Touka, whilst panicking, leaped forwards and dragged Kaneki back out the room. He was flustered, which was probably because he ran his way here, and he continued to hold the flowers. It turned out that he picked out her favourites, in her favourite colour too, with a little bunny note attached. It then struck her - was there an anniversary she was forgetting?!

“Touka-chan.” Kaneki breathed heavily, Touka watching incredulously. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you. I-I’ll be a better husband. I’ll try to take more days off, I promise. J-Just...Please d-don’t hate me.” He winced as he held out the flowers and she took them, blinking slowly between the two.

“...What?” With her blank expression, Kaneki grew quiet and he now wondered if the flowers weren’t enough. Maybe he should take out the gold necklace too- “Kaneki, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh…” More silence. “But you’ve been avoiding me all day, spending time with everyone else.”

“I, uh, how to explain this. I was dishing out your jobs to other people. You know, like the smaller ones that don’t really require you specifically. I thought maybe it’d help. Whilst being a nice surprise.” Kaneki stared at the ground for a moment as he took in these words and with this new realisation, his face turned bright red. He looked up, looking as stiff and awkward as Touka.

However, just when he was about to make a dramatic apology for acting so childish, Touka burst out laughing, her cheeks flushed and a huge smile on her face. Kaneki couldn’t help but join her and the two ended up laughing hysterically in the middle of a office corridor without a care in the world. When they finally calmed down, Touka wrapped her arms around him, thanking him for his gift and in return, he thanked her for her hard efforts.

He was always, always so worried about the outcome of his choices, no matter how many years pass. Yet, during moments like these, he was reminded that the biggest support in his life would always be by his side and she would never fail to understand him and help him through whatever it was he was going through. She was his saviour, so maybe it wasn’t so surprising that he was scared of losing her. But...she was scared of losing him too, wasn’t she? They also had a beautiful daughter to care for together too. It was no wonder that she tried so hard to help him get by, even if he didn’t deserve it half the time.

“Hey, I think I’m going to go home now.” Touka kissed his cheek and he kissed her in return, their faces inches apart. “Ayato is desperately asking for me to take Ichika from him before she pulls all his hair out. And besides, I don’t want you getting all jealous again.”

“I wasn’t- Okay, I was jealous, but you were teasing me.”

“Hm, only a little. It’s funny to see you get all hot and bothered.” She pulled away, smirking. “But I’ll be sure to make it up to you later.”

“I’ll try to come home earlier today, I promise.” He held her hand until she was too far to reach, his heart still leaping with ecstatic joy. “I love you.”

He whispered those words again once she was gone. Even though she was now gone, he knew that she’d be able to hear them. However, now that this whole misunderstanding was over, he faced a greater challenge ahead, likely his greatest. He saw Hide film the exchange and they’ve been laughing about it for the past few minutes. He knew he shouldn’t use his kagune, and yet...

#touken #kanetou #my writing #fanfic #fluff #ken kaneki #touka kirishima #tsukiyama shuu #hide nagachika #ichika kaneki #uhhh is there anything i'm missing #I think thats it

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/10/2020 (Headie One, D-Block Europe)

You know, I kind of expected a bigger impact from D-Block Europe given that this is their debut studio album. I guess maybe people are as sick of these guys as I am; the mixtapes they released got tracks higher on the chart than this, and that was without some of the big name features they had. Regardless, we still have nine songs to cover here, so... this week’s #1 is still “Mood” by 24kGoldn and iann dior, and welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Dropouts & Returning Entries

Last week had two album bombs – or at least whatever you can call “album bombs” on a chart that tries its hardest to stop those from happening – so naturally there are quite a few drop-outs and returning entries from the UK Top 75. Two of each from 21 Savage with Metro Boomin and Bryson Tiller are gone from last week, with the only songs from both albums still on the chart being the ones with a “(feat. Drake)” in the title. Typical. None of the BLACKPINK songs from last week have stayed either. Other than those six, we also have a handful of notable drop-outs like “What’s Love Got to Do with It” by Kygo and Tina Turner, “Hallucinate” by Dua Lipa and “POPSTAR” by DJ Khaled and Drake, which probably just felt the impact of dumb UK chart rules about streaming. All of these are pretty decent songs – the first two could have peaked a lot higher – so what in the returning entries is coming to replace them? Well, we have “Wishing Well” by the late Juice WRLD back at #74 and a theme of long-running hip-hop tracks like “Dinner Guest” by AJ Tracey and MoStack back at #72 and “I Dunno” by Dutchavelli featuring Tion Wayne and Stormzy at #68, all of which peaked in the top 20. The biggest gain this week was for Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” which is in the top 40 this week and predicted to be even higher in the weeks to come, especially in the US. We usually send 40-year-old songs to #1 but the States seem to have caught up with that too. The biggest fall this week was for the debut last week, “Outta Time” by Bryson Tiller featuring Drake, plummeting from #24 to #58, which is understandable; I mean the only reason it got that high in the first place was because of Drake. Now, onto the new arrivals.

NEW ARRIVALS

#63 – “BLM” – OFB (Bandokay and Double Lz) featuring Abra Cadabra

Produced by N2theA

Like many people, fans and artists alike, due to the recent events in America and across the world, I’ve gained a renewed interest in protest music, particularly songs about systematic racism and police brutality. Many artists, including some of the biggest out right now like Lil Baby, have made songs about this recently but really this is not an isolated incident or chain of events. Rappers, musicians and activists have discussed these issues for years and the fact that the general public is finally latching onto some of it makes me hopeful. Seriously though, if you’re looking for a great song from a couple years back protesting against the same topic, “Don’t Don’t Do It!” by N.E.R.D. featuring Kendrick Lamar is right there. OFB is a drill collective from Tottenham, and the group actually contains some genuinely massive names, like Headie One and RV, but here, we just have Bandokay and Double Lz, as well as affiliate Abra Cadabra on the chorus. There’s also a sample of Coldplay here, which actually works as a melancholy piano component of this drill beat, even if it feels like a bizarre choice at first glance. I don’t really need to talk to you about the beat, right? In a song like this, content is what matters and, yeah, it makes a pretty solid case for itself sticking up to inhumane police officers, even if some of the lyrics do feel oddly surface level at times, particularly Abra Cadabra and Double Lz, even though he does have personal anecdotes to tell, but not as much as Bandokay on the first verse where he does get pretty damn in-depth.

There’s no evidence on S but 21 years got slapped to his chest / Yo, I just want P like Diddy, police on my back ‘cah I look like Pops

Bandokay is the son of the late Mark Duggan, a 29-year-old Black man who was unlawfully shot and killed by police in Tottenham in 2011, sparking protests and riots across Britain. This feels particularly profound but also unnerving from Bandokay because he sees himself as next in line for this treatment, talking about how it still haunts him and when he finds out about a friend of his getting life in prison, he’s stressed because he feels like it could very well be him locked up in there for reasons equally unjustified or clearly at the fault of minority disenfranchisement, particularly for young Black men who are driven to the streets because of it. Both Bandokay and Abra Cadabra discuss how gang culture is seen as an excuse for police officers to shoot, with the chorus digging into how because of the violence depicted in Black art due to segregation and societal issues still present in the modern world, that gives them the justification for assault and murder of innocent Black lives. Double Lz goes a bit off-topic here but I can’t say that recall of a phone conversation he had with his friend in jail doesn’t hit hard given the context, especially in a time where we feel more distant than ever with fellow humans. I don’t think it’s as good as “The Bigger Picture” but these guys definitely get my respect for this. Check it out.

#55 – “Proud” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Mind the Gap

And now for almost the exact opposite of social commentary, serious topics and melancholy production: D-Block Europe, although this isn’t actually D-Block Europe, it’s half of the band. Young Adz has three solo songs on this stupidly long album and Dirtbike LB has two, one of which has a feature so I’m pretty sure we all know who’s the Swae Lee in this British Rae Sremmurd... especially since Young Adz’s solo song debuted this high. The song is actually quite different from their standard fare at least in terms of lyrical content, with Adz going into the gang culture and its effect on his mental health, particularly his relationship and drug addiction. His off-beat nasal crooning here is actually kind of charming under these levels of Auto-Tune and a fast-paced trap beat that actually works a lot once it kicks in a minute and a half in. The second verse, particularly, is pretty excellent, where he dedicates the verse to his daughter, who he hopes will not follow in his footsteps of “lifestyles” but also promises her wealth and a continued faith in Islam. The way he talks about how he wants his daughter to succeed even if he dies and later on his companionship with Dirtbike LB is... kind of beautiful, honestly, and does make me look past the mixing issues and... interesting delivery from Young Adz. The uncredited whispery vocals from RAYE on the outro definitely add to the feel of the track and, yeah, I like this quite a lot more than I expected but it still doesn’t make me want to check out that album.

#53 – “I Miss U” – Jax Jones and Au/Ra

Produced by Jax Jones, Mark Ralph, Cass Lowe, Alex Tepper and Tom Demac

Hey, remember Au/Ra? Well, I didn’t either until I checked her Spotify page and saw she was behind that “Panic Room” song that I loved from last year, specifically the remix from CamelPhat – seriously, I’d like to see more on the charts from those guys too. I’m not sure Jax Jones will be able to live up to the brilliantly-constructed ominous future house of that song, but this is supposed to be a silly love or break-up song so I expect a cute, vaguely tropical radio-friendly dance-pop tune with some 90s deep house influence thrown in there, like most of Jax’s stuff ends up being. Anyone else kind of sick of this stuff? I know it gets plays in the clubs which are still in the UK and much of Europe, using this type of dance music, but this robotic draining of the emotion from generic break-up tunes sang by indie-adjacent women over a four-on-the-floor beat is something I’ve heard hundreds of times before. I know this has been a British staple for decades but the new-ish style of vocal drops and generally tired production is growing pretty stale for me at least. It can work when it does, and Au/Ra isn’t a bad fit for this slick, beeping production – this is a pretty okay song all things considered – but there’s not any warmth or quality in this type of stuff anymore, let alone variation. This song is fine but I do hope it kind of underperforms for Jax just to set a precedent that this is exhausting and honestly kind of a cheap ploy for plays at this point. Is that too harsh? Probably, but after two and a half years of seeing these types of songs every other week, it gets on your nerves.

#49 – “Not a Pop Song” – Little Mix

Produced by Robin Oliver Fred, Tayla Parx and MNEK, peaked at #37 in Ireland

Does that mean I don’t have to review it? I want to like this girl group, especially after they ditched the manufactured pop image from Syco and signed to another label that I assume does not treat him as horrifically, but I feel like the music hasn’t changed or gotten any more interesting at all. In fact, this song serves as kind of a diss track to Simon Cowell, and not in any way a subtle one at that. “I don’t do what Simon says”? I mean, don’t you guys also have a talent show you executive-produced, and is airing currently on the BBC? Sigh, well, is the song any good? Well, it tries a little bit more with that guitar loop but not with the clunky trap beat, the harmonised triplet flows in the pre-chorus that sound awkward, and most importantly, the lyrics, which are otherwise fine in how they represent the music industry, a corrupt and unfriendly business, but not in a way that feels like it’s revealing any secrets or anything that really hits. Especially the chorus, where that “I don’t give a what” chant just undermines the whole message. Shouldn’t the point be that now you CAN swear on your songs? I don’t know, this is just worthless but admittedly a lot more listenable than their last record so I’ll give it to them there, even if it is out of a clear effort to be as inoffensive as possible.

#46 – “Flowers” – Chip

Produced by Dready

So, in Chip’s pretty garbage verse on “Waze” earlier this year, he took some shots at an underground artist that many assumed were shots at Stormzy, who commented on this with some subliminals on “I Dunno”. Naturally, in response to this light-hearted beef from two former good friends all based on misinterpretation, Stormzy pulled up to the guy’s house, with only Chip’s brother and sister being home. His sister even felt the need to pull out a kitchen knife to defend herself, so, yeah, I have no sympathy for Stormzy here. Unless this is based on personal drama that we don’t know of, he really unnecessarily escalated this petty dispute. Hence, Chip has two diss tracks here, this is the first of them; the other didn’t chart. To quote Chip’s manager, Ashley Rae, who is also name-dropped in the song: Stormzy pulled up unannounced to Chip’s building with three other people. The building was secure with gates and an intercom system. He didn’t knock. He came in and was posted in the car park screaming for Chip to come outside. After being told to leave twice as Chip wasn’t home, he refused and made his way to Chip’s apartment on the top floor where family were inside and it got heated. He caused a commotion so the neighbours called the police. This diss track seems to share my view of the situation; Chip even briefly brings up the political climate as he talks about how Stormzy should have expected the police to be called – after all, when people in Essex see black men shouting outside a building, regardless of their innocence, the authorities seem to get involved. In this diss track, Chip calls back to other disses he’s made, notes his disappointment in Stormzy collaborating with Ed Sheeran when he’s the one who escalated to potential violence – you’d think he’d be smarter not to risk his image – and sending some personal shots at his break-up with Maya Jama, which actually made me chuckle, particularly when he says that a throwaway track on a collaborative album seems to have incited a bigger reaction than that long-term relationship coming to an end. He goes even deeper into how he thinks Stormzy’s activism is hypocritical if he wants to incite black-on-black violence by pulling up to Chip’s house, and references the late 2Pac and Pop Smoke and... okay, he just ravages Stormzy here, and it helps that this beat is menacing, even if I don’t like Chip’s delivery or voice, as I never have. “Killer MC”, the other diss track, is a lot vaguer and with a pretty chaotic beat which Chip can barely flow on, so yeah, I’m glad this one charted. Man, a lot of aggressive, lyrically-focused songs today, huh?

#34 – “Destiny” – D-Block Europe

Produced by Jony Beats

And just like that, they appear. This is our second and last song from that D-Block Europe album debuting this week, and it’s only high because of a video anyway – that and the fact it’s the first on the album. Otherwise, this is typical D-Block Europe fare, albeit this time with a hilarious but absolutely pointless 30-second acoustic guitar intro that just consists of the guys whispering “Destined” with as much reverb as possible. Dirtbike LB is actually on the hook this time, making it even more lethargic. Young Adz is filling in empty space with ad-libs again, including his signature “SKI!”, and in his first verse here, I genuinely laughed out loud after that booming “bow-bow-bow-bow” vocal interlude coming out of nowhere. It honestly caught me off-guard. I kinda like Young Adz’s pretty energetic flow here though, and he definitely plays with the boring trap beat in a way that is pretty funny. He feels the need to say “Happy G-day” to a person in the booth with him, which shows that he’s freestyling at least some of this stuff, which is kind of impressive. He “endorses” new straps, which is just funny wording to me, as is when he says 9 Goddy “had” Norwich, like he just owned the city – although, as a fellow East Midlander, I kind of appreciate the shout out. My favourite part in the verse is probably his attempt at 2012 hashtag-rap, where he says “half a mil’, mortgage”, but the beat cuts out when he mutters a wimpy “rurr” ad-lib, and that almost forgives his weedy delivery and gross Auto-Tune. I think “Rurr, mortgage” makes up for the chorus, “Break a brick like Tetris”. Honestly, I get why people prefer Adz’s energy and funny content because the only thing to laugh at with Dirtbike LB’s bleak, almost depressing lyrics about materialism, meaningless sex and drug addiction, is how he phrases everything in a manner that is uniquely middle-class and polite, especially in this verse, and how he just seems to be accepting the dark topics he talks about in his verse with a shrug of his shoulders. It’s kind of concerning, I mean, I don’t like the music but I hope he’s okay. In conclusion, the song’s fine and honestly I kind of love the first verse but that chorus is dull and really it’s a pretty poorly-mixed trap cut. To be honest, if there’s more of this energy from Adz on the album, I might just check it out. The guy’s growing on me recently.

#29 – “Cool with Me” – Dutchavelli and M1llionz

Produced by The Fanatix

Apparently this guy is Stefflon Don’s brother, and now that she has been pretty quiet recently, I guess it’s time for Dutchavelli to step into the limelight, and he’s bringing fellow Birmingham rapper M1llions with him for a song with not much of a chorus to speak of. Instead, Dutchavelli and M1llionz trade verses and bars for three minutes over a pretty banging drill beat, with an eerie choral sample throughout and honestly pretty great verses from the two of them here. Dutchavelli sounds really aggressive here and I love the yelling in the ad-libs, even if it adds to some questionable vocal mixing throughout. M1llionz’s casual, meandering flow and cadence works really well in contrast, even if really nothing is said here other than gunplay and flexing. The beat feels like it never properly drops at all, and it just slides out abruptly by the end, but if this is an intro track to an upcoming album with a following track that drops us straight into it, I could see this working. As is, well, I’ve not got much to say about it but this is decent.

Also, I’d like to point out Dutch’s Wikipedia page, particularly the “in popular culture” section.

Dutchavelli has gained a reputation for being a hard man. This paired with his large stature has lead to a proliferation of memes relating to this within popular culture such as 'When Dutchavelli goes to a club, he asks the bouncer for ID'.

God, I love Wikipedia.

#24 – “Parlez-Vouz Anglais” – Headie One featuring Aitch

Produced by Al Hug and Ambezza

Okay, so our last two songs are both from Headie One and his overly long, 20+ track album he released last week, Edna. Do you see a trend with these British rap artists and debut albums? To be fair, I am more interested in this album, and I’ll probably listen to it after writing this. The feature list looks pretty good – I mean, it’s got Drake, Kenny Beats, Skepta and ironically, Young Adz on a song that did NOT chart this week – and I really loved “Both” from last year, so it’s probably worth checking out at least some of the songs. This song, however, was not one of those I was interested in. Man, I’m so angry I come back to this show and get back-to-back weeks with high debuts from rappers featuring this pioneer of gentrified drill music. He’s already made a song romanticising French women and high fashion as well, so it’s not like this is new territory for the guy. Admittedly, I do enjoy this cute, lounge-y elevator music sample but it feels pretty drowned-out by both the bog-standard UK drill beat and awkward flows from both, who are doing a similar thing to Dutchavelli and M1llionz did in the last song we talked about, but with more repetition to fill up time and more trading bars between the two, as well as an actual chorus, which is about as dull as bricks. Both Aitch and Headie have uninteresting flows and use awkward ad-libs to disguise a clear lack of any attempts at good wordplay or content that goes any further than worryingly blatant misogyny from Aitch and constant flexing. It’s not interesting, and it’s not good either.

#11 – “Princess Cuts” – Headie One featuring Young T & Bugsey

Produced by iO and TobyShyBoy

I’m not surprised this was the track that debuted this high. Thanks to TikTok picking up “Don’t Rush”, which is a brilliant song by the way, this group isn’t just big in the UK like most of these rappers, they are genuinely global superstars for the British hip hop scene and I love that. They made Aitch’s debut onto the charts both listenable and promising on “Strike a Pose” (It’s really a feat) and are constantly bringing smooth flows and Bugsey’s really nice voice over good production. They are more than deserving of being how British hip hop is viewed worldwide, even as they got onto the Hot 100 with Headie One earlier this year. I was surprised too. So, yeah, I’m excited to hear this new collaboration between the two artists, and, surprise, surprise, it’s really good. I love the nostalgic early-mid-2000s R&B beat especially with that slick Latin guitar and pounding bass groove. I love Young T singing on the hook over really beautiful vocodered samples and funky keys in the instrumental. I love Headie’s pretty impressive and at times smooth flow in his two verses. I love how Young T & Bugsey share a sing-songy cadence in their verse. Man, I love everything about this song sonically, and content-wise, the lyrics don’t really leave that much to be desired either. Sure, it’s pretty much just towing the line between a hook-up jam and flexing, but there’s enough funny lines and convincing delivery to make this worth checking out. I also love how Headie starts the smooth, sexy hook-up jam with “My young boy got the stick like Moses with the Israelites” in his deep, gruff tone, which is just comedy gold. Headie also takes time to praise the Lord and show his limited knowledge of geography, which is either insensitive to Asians or satirical depending on how you look at it. Either way, it works and it’s funny. This is just an incredible song and I hope it sticks around. Check it out.

Conclusion

There’s actually not much here to complain about, even with D-Block Europe’s two songs here. Little Mix take the Dishonourable Mention for “Not a Pop Song” and Worst of the Week is going to Headie One for “Parlez-Vouz Anglais” featuring Aitch but I might as well balance that out by giving the guy Best of the Week for “Princess Cuts” with Young T & Bugsey. I don’t want Stormzy to pull up to my house next, so I’ll delay on giving Chip the Honourable Mention, but that is instead going to “BLM” by Bandokay, Double Lz and Abra Cadabra for simply being necessary, although I’m scared to admit Young Adz was pretty close here. I don’t know what’ll happen next week – hopefully not that new Kanye song – but here’s the top 10 for Friday’s chart:

You can follow me @cactusinthebank for occasional political Twittage and I’ll see you next week.

[greysfanpage388]

Recovery

This is in response to a prompt sent to @omeliafics

Prompt: Amelia and Owen are in the hospital with Megan and Megan tells them how she lost a baby when she was captive and amelia is very shocked and starts to think about her baby and maybe comforts megan or something that owen realize how much pain she went trough.

This is a different fic from the collaboration fic ‘ On The Brink’ which is currently under hiatus.

Thanks to the amazing @jia911 for helping me to proofread this fic as usual  <3

*TRIGGER WARNING for mention of sexual assault and PTSD. Please do not proceed to read if these two issues trigger you.

It was late at night, and the atmosphere in the Madigan Army Medical Centre was quiet. In one of the private hospital rooms, Megan Hunt was fast asleep on her bed, while her elder brother Owen Hunt and her sister-in-law Amelia Shepherd were asleep on the reclining chairs by her bedside.

It had been more than a week since Megan was flown back to the USA. When he first laid his eyes on his sister, Owen’s heart broke. She wasn’t the same Megan, the cheerful, fun loving Megan who loved to tease and provoke him. Instead, she was being replaced by a stoic, solemn woman who looked malnourished and downtrodden. She had dark rings and eyebags under her eyes, and she looked like the burden of the entire world was upon her shoulders. Owen found it hard to believe that it was indeed his beloved little sister when he first saw her. She was so much thinner, and her eyes which were usually sparkling were dull, showing her pain. She just stared blankly at the hospital walls, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. No matter how hard Owen, Amelia or Riggs tried to get her to open up, she refused to utter a single word. Her behavior was starting to make Owen and Riggs worried. When Owen confided in Amelia about it,  she comforted him by saying that Megan had gone through a traumatic experience during her time in captivity and needed some time to be able to open up to others. She made an appointment for Megan with the best Psychiatrist in the country. Although they both were too busy caring for Megan to talk about their own underlying issues, they maintained a friendly interaction with each other.

Owen and Amelia had been faithfully staying by Megan’s bedside the whole time. Owen didn’t leave her side, refusing to go home to shower and sleep even though the nurses there repeatedly told him that they could take care of Megan overnight. He politely declined Riggs’s offer to take turns taking care of Megan. He gave the excuse that he wanted to keep a close eye on her. The truth was, he was still feeling so guilty about what happened to her and wanted to compensate for all the years they had lost by staying by her side the whole time now. Furthermore, he didn’t trust Riggs with Megan anymore and didn’t want them both alone in the same room. Amelia refused to leave his side as well. She had promised him that she would be by his side the entire time and she vowed to keep by her words. If Owen stayed by Megan’s bedside, that was where she would remain as well.

The couple never gave up hope on Megan, staying by her side 24 hours a day. They both had requested a couple weeks of leave from Bailey to be by Megan’s side, which she approved as neither of them had taken long leaves before. Owen told Megan how much he loved and missed her. He repeatedly told her about how he and their mom had been searching so many years for her, but to no avail.

Amelia watched the two Hunt siblings interact quietly, feeling her heart ache for Owen. It broke her heart to see Owen’s expression of despair and anguish when Megan remained expressionless and refused to respond to him. It was obvious how much he cared for his younger sister and how strong their bond was.

A few days after Megan’s arrival in the hospital, Evelyn Hunt appeared. Owen had called to inform her that his sister and her only daughter had returned back to them. She had shrieked in joy over the news.

As Evelyn hugged her beloved daughter tightly, tears rolling down her cheeks, Owen and Amelia watched the emotional reunion scene unfold in front of them, holding back their own tears.

At that moment, in her mother’s embrace, Megan finally broke down and cried  for hours, letting out all the sorrow, hurt, pain, anguish and suffering she had kept buried inside her after all those years of captivity.

After that, Megan slowly began to talk to those around her. She would utter a few polite words to Owen, Evelyn, Amelia and the nurses. When Amelia was first introduced to her as her sister in law, she maintained a noncholant expression which broke Owen’s heart. As the week progressed, she eventually began to communicate with Amelia, much to Owen’s relief.

Amelia’s eyes opened as she thought she heard a sound being emitted from the direction of Megan’s bed. A quick glance at Owen told her that he was still fast asleep. She didn’t want to wake him as she knew that he was exhausted from barely having enough sleep for the past few days. Evelyn had gone back to their house to get some rest after having been with Megan for the entire day.

Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she leaned over towards Megan’s bed. Her sister in law seemed to be muttering something unintelligible. She strained her ears to listen.

 ‘Please don’t shoot me! I’m pregnant. Please don’t shoot me, please!! ‘Megan whimpered, pleading.

‘No, no, no, please, please.  Please no!!’’ she wailed.

She then let out a gut wrenching scream as she clutched her stomach with an expression of pain on her face.  

‘Megan.’Owen was now wide awake too and shaking Megan’s shoulders.

‘ No, no, please let go of me, it hurts.’Megan whined, as her hands trashed violently in the air.

 ‘Megan!’Owen’s voice was gentle but firm as he gripped her firmly by the shoulders. He had PTSD before and he knew that she was having one of those nightmares.

‘Megan!! Wake up!! It’s me, Owen, your brother. You’re safe now ok? You’re in America now, not in Iraq. You’re safe now with me.’

Megan finally stopped trashing and looked at Owen for a long moment, staring into his sincere and sad eyes before breaking down.

Owen hugged her tight as her tears soaked his shirt and her heart wrenching sobs filled the room. They remained in that posture for a few long moments as he continued rubbing her back comfortingly and she continued sobbing in his arms, letting out all her emotions.

‘Shhh… It’s ok Megan, I’m here. You’re safe now.It’s just a bad dream. ’he whispered over and over as he rocked her in his arms like a baby, feeling his heart ache for her.

Amelia could only watch on helplessly, feeling her heart breaking for Megan and wishing that there was more she could do to help her sister in law.

Finally the tears subsided and the sobs became whimpers.

‘You feeling better now?’Owen asked as he rubbed Megan’s arm comfortingly.

‘Yes.’she sniffled. ‘I’m sorry, I had a bad dream.’she admitted, taking a quick glance at Amelia, who gave her a reassuring smile.

‘It’s ok, sis.’comforted.

Megan looked at him with dull, sad eyes, which showed so much hurt and anguish in them.

 ‘I dreamt about the night I lost my baby again.’she said softly.

‘Baby? You had a baby?’Owen asked, shocked by her admission. He had a niece/nephew he didn’t know about?

He didn’t dare ask whose baby it was.

‘ They shot me, they shot me in the abdomen and I lost the baby.’she muttered, wincing as she relived the painful memory.

‘I’m so sorry Megan.’Owen whispered, at loss of the right words to say to her, while trying to control his own emotions.

‘It was my fault.’she said as she looked up at him with a sad and pained look in her eyes. ‘ I secretly wished for the baby to be gone, because I couldn’t bear to bring a new life into this world which was created as a result of something atrocious. I just couldn’t do it.‘she shook her head, her voice quivering, as tears started to fill her eyes and roll down her cheeks.

‘It’s not your fault.’Owen said softly, holding her hands supportively.

‘ I bled out from the abdomen and also from down below.’she admitted in a low tone as  Owen’s heart sank.

‘ I can still hear the gunshot and feel the bullet piercing through my stomach. I can still feel the blood gushing out from below.’Megan continued, her eyes staring at the blank hospital walls as she recalled the fateful night.

‘ I’m so sorry.’Owen shook his head as his fists involuntarily clenched. He would love to  murder the culprits who did this, regardless of the consequences. He just couldn’t imagine what his sister went through. He had never felt so hopeless before. His sister, the little sister whom he was supposed to protect had ben tortured and was in pain. The worst thing was, there was nothing he could do to help her.

‘ There’s no need to apologize, Owen. There’s nothing you could’ve done.’said Megan, shaking her head sadly. ‘ It’s not your fault either.’she added, looking up at him with a downcast expression as their blue eyes met.

His eyes were filled with pain and hopelessness. Hers were filled with sorrow and hurt, reflecting all the torture she had endured over the years.

Megan now gathered the courage to open up to her brother about the horrendous experience she endured while in captivity.

‘ I don’t even know whose baby it is.’she admitted in a whisper. ‘ They took turns on me one by one, every single night. Initially, I screamed and I fought. But they were much stronger physically, and I was alone and helpless. They overpowered me and I just couldn’t fight back against them.’she continued in a low, monotonous voice.

Owen shook his head as his fists clenched again. If he could get a hold of them, he would have murdered them cold blooded. He couldn’t even picture what the beasts had done to his beloved sister. He couldn’t fathom how humans could be capable of doing such horrific things. It was too brutal for him to imagine. It made him nauseous.

‘ But when I lost the baby, I felt like a part of me was being ripped and torn apart from me.’she added as tears started rolling down her cheeks. ‘ I felt like I had lost a piece of my heart which I was never going to get back.’she added, her voice quavering.

‘I almost died.’she continued.‘ I kept on bleeding out, but there were gunshots being fired everywhere. Our capturers had run way. I was the only female captive. My fellow captives kept on praying for the enemies to go away, but they came closer. When they freed us, we then realized that they were actually American soldiers who came to rescue us. They rushed me to the hospital, according to the hospital staff I was so pale and cold, I was almost dead. I had to be transfused 4 pints of blood.’

Her voice and entire body shook as she recalled the terrible memory. It was still fresh in her mind as it just happened not long ago, during their rescue.

Telling her brother and sister-in-law about her experiences opened up her floodgates of painful memories and now she couldn’t stop recalling them.

Owen squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to prevent himself from picturing seeing his sister so pale and lifeless. When he first laid eyes on her, she was already in a bad shape, he couldn’t imagine seeing her when she was bleeding out.

Megan didn’t notice Owen’s face turn red as his jaw clenched. She knew her brother well enough to know that those were the danger signs that he was about to explode into a fit of rage. But this time, she was too absorbed in her own pain and emotions that she missed the warning signs.

She was starting to rock back and forth on her hospital bed, repeating the words ‘almost died and ‘bleeding’over and over again.  It was too heartbreaking for both Owen and Amelia to watch.

Amelia on the other hand noticed Owen’s sudden change in facial expression and knew she had to get him out of there as soon as possible before he had a PTSD episode.

She tapped him lightly on the shoulder, knowing that under this circumstance she had to be cautious around him. She didn’t want to trigger more PTSD episodes.

‘Let’s get out of the room.’she whispered as she gently took his hand and they walked out of the room to the hospital corridors.

‘ Can you take care of Megan please? We’re going for a walk.’she politely requested the nurse at the counter, who nodded. As much as she would love to stay in the room with Megan and comfort her, she knew that Owen was in the verge of having one of his episodes. She needed to get him out of there fast before his temper flared.

She led him to one of the benches outside the hospital and ushered him to sit.

‘Take deep breaths.’she instructed gently as he obeyed.

He finally calmed down and turned to look at her with an angry and hurt expression.

‘Those bastards.’he muttered under his breath. ‘How dare they do such an atrocious and heinous act towards my little sister! If I ever catch them, I’ll beat them to death, no doubt about it!’

‘ I know.’Amelia said softly, rubbing his arm comfortingly. ‘I know you feel very angry and outraged about this. But there’s nothing you can do, Owen. You’re far away here in America. You know it’s not possible to fly back there to the war zone and find the exact people who did this. The only thing you can do now is to be there for her.’

Owen sighed heavily as he buried his head in his hands, knowing that what Amelia said was true. There was nothing he could do except to be there for his sister. He had never felt so hopeless before. He was used to being in control of things, and really hated the feeling of being helpless.

They sat in silence for a few long moments, Owen trying to recompose himself as he took a few deep breaths, and Amelia rubbing his back soothingly.

Owen’s breathing finally normalized as he leaned back onto Amelia’s chest, feeling the comforting sound of her heart beat and the soothing motions of her hands rubbing his back.

She led him back into the room when she was sure he was calmed down. Megan, who was already attended to by a nurse, was fast asleep.

_______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Owen woke up to the sunlight shining through the hospital window. He rubbed sleep off his eyes as he tried to look around the room. His neck was stiff from the awkward position he had been sleeping in the night before.

His gaze stopped at the hospital bed where his wife was sitting by his sister’s bedside. Both women were chatting quietly to each other. Amelia was holding Megan’s hand. Megan seemed to be really comfortable with Amelia’s presence, and that made him feel better.

Both women were so deep in their conversation, they didn’t notice that he had woken up.

He strained his ears to listen to what they were talking about.

‘ I’ve also lost a baby before.’he heard Amelia confess. ‘He lived for 43 minutes, to be exact. He was anencephalic, no brain. But when I held him in my arms, I thought he was the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. When they had to take him away from me when he developed respiratory distress, I also felt like a part of me, a piece of my heart was being taken away from me.’

‘I’m so sorry.’Megan whispered, as she touched Amelia’s arm soothingly. This was the first time the two sisters-in-law bonded. For the past week, Megan had barely uttered a few words to Amelia.

Amelia felt her heart warm at Megan’s touch.

‘ It’s ok, I know that he’s in heaven now, watching over me with his father.’she said, smiling at Megan. ‘ I called him my unicorn baby because he was such a miracle. He donated his organs to so many other babies, and they all survived because of him. He saved so many lives in the short duration of time he was here on earth.’

Owen watched the interaction between his wife and his sister with interest. He knew that Amelia had lost a baby before, she had mentioned in passing about her baby living for only 43 minutes while they were both sitting in the hospital chapel after lighting a candle for Samuel Avery. He didn’t know the details of her baby’s premature departure though, he never got around to asking her. At that time in the chapel, they were both mere acquaintances and he didn’t want to interfere in her personal affairs. But as their relationship progressed, they had so many other things to talk about and he never got around to asking her about her baby. She also no longer mentioned her baby to him.

‘ Well, maybe our babies are up there in heaven and looking down at us.’Megan suggested as she looked up at the ceiling, finally smiling for the first time in ages.

‘ Yes, maybe they are.’Amelia agreed softly.

Megan’s smile faded as another flashback of her time in captivity returned.

Amelia took Megan’s hand in hers and gave it a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

‘ You survived. You’re a fighter and a survivor, Megan.’she said in encouragement.

‘ Thank you.’Megan whispered back as their eyes met. Amelia’s eyes radiated such warmth and compassion, it made Megan feel much more relaxed.

Amelia turned and smiled at Owen as she noticed him awake.

‘Oh, look who is awake.’she greeted. ‘ Good morning, sleepyhead.’

‘He has always been like this since childhood.’Megan chipped in, smirking. ‘ I call him sleepyhead too.

Owen had to admit, it warmed his heart to see his sister and wife ganging up on him and teasing him together. And it made him so glad that a part of the old Megan was slowly returning.

‘ Megan.’he muttered.‘I just…I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to say last night.’

‘It’s ok.’she dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. ‘ I feel better just talking about it.’

He smiled at her, at loss of words to say to her. She seemed more like her normal cheerful self this morning, although he knew that PTSD survivors had unpredictable temper and their episodes could flare up anytime without warning. Gosh how he missed this Megan, the cheerful, kind, caring Megan who loved to tease and joke with him.

He knew that comforting words were not enough for her, he knew that nothing he did at that moment could heal her emotional wounds and scars and and reverse the trauma that she had been through.

‘ I know.’ Owen said softly.  ‘I know how it feels like.’

‘ I also lost a baby before.’he admitted when both his sister and wife looked at him questioningly.

‘ Cristina aborted my baby.’he continued. ‘ She didn’t want children and she aborted my baby. I was beside her during the entire procedure, and after that it was like a piece of me was being taken away. But she didn’t even ask for my permission before making the appointment.’he said, shaking his head sadly at the memory.

‘ Oh, I’m sorry.’ Megan whispered.

‘ It’s ok, it’s long ago, and we aren’t even together anymore.’ Owen said as he exchanged a knowing glance with Amelia. He had told Amelia about it before, and she knew how devastating it was for him as he had always wanted to have children of his own.

Her heart went out to him as she noticed the sad expression on his face.

A calm silence filled the room.

Megan stiffled a yawn as she rubbed her eyes.

‘Why don’t you get some rest now, Owen and I will be here by your side .’Amelia suggested, as Megan nodded in agreement. She never got much sleep for the past 10 years. While in captivity, she would always be on the guard for enemies or her capturers approaching. For the past week, even though she was safe back in America, her nightmares and PTSD episodes were keeping her awake at night.

_______________________________________________________________

A while later, as Evelyn arrived to take over the duty of caring for Megan. Owen and Amelia decided to grab a simple breakfast from the hospital cafeteria.

The cafeteria was almost empty, except for the cafeteria staff.

They ate in silence as she munched on her sandwich and him on his burger and fries. There were so many word unspoken between them, so many issues unresolved and they both didn’t know where to start.

‘ Thank you, Amelia.’Owen began as soon as he finished his burger. ‘Thank you for being there for Megan to comfort her when I can’t. I just can’t picture what those beasts did to my sister. She’s my sister, my little sister.’he said, shaking his head with a defeated expression on his face.

‘I know. ‘Amelia said, a sad tone in her voice as she reached out her hand and their hands joined on the cafeteria table.  ‘I know you feel really upset about what happened to her and feel helpless that you can’t do anything to help her. I’m sorry I can’t do much to help, but I’ll be here for you both the whole time.’she promised as she gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

‘ I had arranged the best psychiatrist in the country to tend to her.’she continued. ‘She’ll be in good hands. Don’t worry ok? It’ll be a long process, but we’ll both see her through this.’

Owen nodded as he picked up a fry.

‘ Yes, the only thing we can do for her now is to be there for her.’ he agreed.

He cleared his throat as he decided to change the subject. Talking about what happened to Megan would only make him more angry and upset and there was nothing else he could do to help her.

He didn’t know whether it was the right time to be asking Amelia such a personal question, but she was his wife and he needed to know about her past.

‘ So….you said you had an anencephalic baby?’ he asked softly, being cautious not to scare her off.

To his relief, she nodded.

‘ How much of the conversation did you hear?’ she asked.

‘ From the part you said that you lost an anencephalic baby. I’m so sorry, Amelia.’ he said as he squeezed her hand in support. ‘ I know you  mentioned the baby in passing to me before, but I never asked you about it.’

‘ He was a special baby indeed.’ Amelia said, smiling at the memory of her baby. ‘ The most beautiful baby ever. He saved so many lives.’

‘ Yes, I know how special he must be to you.’ Owen said as their eyes met.

‘ Jake gave me the option to abort him, but I just couldn’t. I was too far along. And I reasoned that if he couldn’t live, at least he could give a chance to other babies to live.’ she continued, remembering her baby. ‘ He had done so much during his short stay here on earth. I miss him.’

‘ That’s a very noble thing to do, Amelia.’ Owen said, as he held her hand comfortingly across the table. ‘ Not every parent would voluntarily give up their baby’s organs like that, you know.’

‘ I know, that’s what everyone says.’ Amelia admitted, as she looked down at her empty plate before lookin back up at Owen. ‘ But I just felt like it was the right thing to do, you know. I mean if my baby couldn’t live, why can’t he help the lives of other babies?’

Owen looked at Amelia with awe, having newfound respect for his wife.

‘ Remember Ryan, the guy I told you about that night when we opened up to each other about our past?’ she asked as he nodded. ‘ Well, it’s his.’ she added as he remained silent but nodded quietly, silently urging her to continue.

‘ For some time, I blamed myself.’ Amelia continued. ‘ I kept on wondering whether my drug addiction was to be blamed for my baby being anencephalic. Jake assured me that my addiction had nothing to do with my baby’s condition, but I still couldn’t stop blaming myself for a long time.’

‘ And so this is why I don’t want to get pregnant again.’ she admitted. ‘ I don’t want to go through the pain of having yet another anencephalic baby. I don’t want to lose another baby.’ she added, her voice quivering as tears pooled in her eyes.

A moment of silence ensued before Owen asked gently, ‘ So this is the reason why you ran away? You were afraid of having another baby?’ he wanted to confirm.

‘ Yes.’ she answered softly, nodding her head solemnly. ‘ I was frightened, Owen. And when I’m frightened, I run. I’m so sorry. I should have talked to you. But I couldn’t face you. Not yet. I was afraid that if I told you everything, you would leave me too. Just like everyone else I’ve ever loved in my life.’ she felt tears rolling down her cheeks at her confession.

‘ But why were you frightened? You should have talked to me, Amelia. I wouldn’t judge you. I would never leave you, you know that. I’ll be here for you no matter what. I love you, Amelia.’

‘ Will you still love me if I only give you anencephalic babies?’ Amelia half joked as she searched his eyes.

‘ I’ll always love you no matter what.’ Owen answered earnestly. ‘Healthy babies or not. But I do have faith that we’ll have healthy babies.’

Amelia finally let herself smile as their hands joined across the table again.

‘ I’m sorry to hear about Cristina.’ she said earnestly. ‘ You have to know that I’ll never abort your baby.’

‘ I was devastated too, but it’s in the past now. It was her body, her choice and there was nothing I could do about it. We both had different views of what is really important and different priorities in life. She’s the past, but you are my present and my future, Amelia.’ he said as their eyes met.

‘ Ryan and my unicorn baby are my past, but you are my present and future too.’ Amelia said. ‘ We’ll get through this together right? Both of us, Megan and the babies we’ll have together. We’ll get through this together and as a couple and then as a family.’

Owen felt his heart swell at the mention of the word ‘family.’

‘ Yes, we will. We’re in this together. For better or for worse.’ Owen promised as he stuck his pinky finger out and she linked her finger to his.

They, Owen Hunt and Amelia Shepherd were a team. Nothing could get in between them now. They would get through this together stronger than ever.

As usual, reblogs, comments, messages, and reviews are very much appreciated. I love you hear from you all!! <3

 p.s  Teddy is not mentioned in here as I haven’t figured out how to fit her into the post season 13 finale story line

#owen hunt #amelia shepherd #omelia #omeliafics #omelia fanfics #omelia fanfiction #ailing's fics #grey's anatomy

[lightsaberss]

The Meaning of Death Chapter 7

AO3 / FF.NET

Riza had been uncharacteristically quiet. Not that the woman was exactly a motormouth, Rebecca had always trumped her where being chatty was concerned, but she'd barely said a word the whole time they'd been out. They were shopping, trying to fill Riza's wardrobe with useful items that hadn't been sitting in Mustang's spare room for the last two years. No one deserved to wear musty undies. It was the second shopping trip they'd taken for clothes, and Rebecca was desperate to slip some frivolous clothes into Riza's wardrobe, maybe a mini skirt to wind Mustang up. Not that Riza would ever wear it, but the idea had amused Rebecca, at least it had before her amusement at Mustang torturing had turned into concern for her friend.

They shopped, and Rebecca turned the problem over in her mind. She'd been fine a couple of days ago, worried about Mustang not talking to her much, but fine. Then Rebecca had a mountain of work to catch up on, because the excuse that General Mustang needed her for an operation didn't actually make her day job go away, unfortunately, so she'd been unable to catch up with Riza since she'd read Mustang the riot act.

If he'd done something stupid, she was actually going to slap him this time. Senior officer or not, Rebecca didn't give a damn.

Why was it always that man, with Riza? In Rebecca's humble opinion, Riza could've done so much better than unresolved sexual tension with her boss. It wasn't that Mustang was a bad person, no one would've believed it, but she had a lot of respect for him as an Officer. He'd given Jean back the use of his legs, and then insisted that he rejoin his team, even if at the time he still needed to use a cane and was stuck at the office more often than not. Jean had gotten better, and Mustang had promoted him. As far as Rebecca was concerned, for that alone, for the care and attention he paid to his people, she'd follow him and help him reach the top.

When it came to her best friend, however, Riza deserved more than him. More than a romance that could never reach fruition because of regs. More than some kind of weird co-dependent working relationship, which only seemed to hold her back from meeting someone that would be able to worship the ground she walked on.

Rebecca kept her mouth shut until they'd finished shopping, and took a break at a café, surrounded by shopping bags filled mostly with practical clothes.

"Okay. What did he do?" Rebecca asked, bluntly getting to the point as soon as they had hot, delicious coffee in front of them.

"Sorry - what?"

"Mustang. He must've done something. You're being way too quiet for nothing to have happened." Rebecca pointed out.

"Oh. No. Well. It's not his fault."

Oh, here we go.

"What did he do?" Rebecca asked, a little too sternly, perhaps. Considering the way Riza's shoulders sagged, and she stared into her coffee cup.

"It's more what I did." Riza said quietly.

"Oh, fuck, you didn't kiss him did you?" Rebecca asked. She knew this would happen. Leave the two of them alone in his house, and of course they'd end up doing something. She never should've allowed it, she should've put her foot down and insisted that Riza should stay with her, instead of going to Mustang's.

Also, she was going to kill Mustang. Regardless of what he did. If he turned her down then what on earth was he thinking? And if he didn't then Riza doesn't have any memories and is incredibly vulnerable so stop thinking with your dick, you prick.

"No, I didn't kiss him!" Riza sounded annoyed, but blushed at the idea.

Upside. She didn't need to kill Mustang. That would save a lot of trouble.

"So what are you talking about? You didn't do anything else with him, right?"

"No, Becca, honestly, it's like you have a one track mind." Riza sighed.

"I do not!" Rebecca insisted. "You two were always just stupid intense and I wanted to make sure he hadn't taken advantage of you."

"You just wanted all the juicy details, didn't you?" Riza asked.

"Well. That would've been my next question." Rebecca admitted. "But if it's nothing juicy then what is it? You've been quiet, like you're a million miles away."

Riza was silent. She stirred her coffee. She sipped her coffee. She looked around the room at the other patrons. She did anything other than look at Rebecca, or answer her question. Rebecca was desperate for her to say something, but she kept her mouth firmly shut and waited.

Then, after a while, Riza spoke; "I remembered things I'd done," She said, carefully. "In Ishval."

"Fuck." Rebecca whispered. "Oh Riza, I'm so sorry, I wish-"

"-That I didn't remember it? You and Roy both."

"No, I just wish it wasn't as painful as it obviously is," Rebecca said. "Ishval - I don't know, I wasn't there. But you came back a wreck, and it changed you. I wish I'd been there when you remembered, to help."

"Roy was there."

"Mustang's a moron with the emotional intelligence of limp spaghetti," Rebecca complained. "I would've been better."

"He's not that bad." Riza insisted.

Oh great, she was defending him again. It turned out, that years later, some things never changed. Before, it would've annoyed Rebecca and she would've rolled her eyes and complained even more. Now it felt like Riza was really here, that her memories might be fractured, but it was her best friend that sat opposite her. Rebecca couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face.

"That's only because you fancy him." It wasn't going to stop her from teasing Riza relentlessly, in fact, knowing it was her, feeling sure of it in her bones and in her heart, it only made it worse.

"I don't 'fancy' him." Riza said, but the red that blossomed over her cheeks told Rebecca a different story entirely.

"Liar."

"Shut. Up."

***

The corridors of Eastern HQ were familiar in the sense that a dream was familiar. Or maybe how a place from childhood might feel to an adult, hazy and yet familiar. She knew silly things, like where the toilets were, but she still needed Rebecca to lead her up to Roy's office. Riza tried to ignore the strange looks that seemed to follow her through the corridors. No doubt there would be whispers and rumours about her return from the dead circulating within seconds, but if  that was the price she had to pay for coming back, then she would pay it without complaint.

Roy's office was large, befitting of his station as Brigadier General. He was young, at only 32, but someone higher up must trust him, and Riza had heard how he'd proven himself during the Promised Day, even if she couldn't remember it. The room had an excellent view, although it was a bit too exposed for her taste, and she closed the blinds as Roy finished up his section of the paperwork before she had to sign it.

"Here." He said, and offered her a pen. She tried not to think of Rebecca's teasing words as their fingers brushed and lingered for a few moments too long. Yes, he was attractive, but everything else was too complicated to contemplate. Even if she wanted romance, and she wasn't sure she did, the fact that most of their past was a mystery to her put an end to any thoughts of kissing him.

She was going to kill Rebecca for putting these thoughts into her head just before she had to spend time with him.

Riza tried not to look at Roy for too long, or too closely, and instead inspected the paperwork. Once she was satisfied that it was correct and that he hadn't forgotten to sign anywhere, or tick any important boxes, she proceeded to sign her own name half a dozen times.

"And that is how you resurrect the dead." Roy declared, a little too dramatically, after she signed the paperwork that would bring her back to life in a legal sense for the final time.

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" She asked.

"No, after all, that is what we're doing."

"Only without horrific side effects?" Riza asked.

"I would hope so." Roy placed the paperwork in a folder. "I'm going to get this filled, will you be alright here?"

"You mean in the room with my friends? I'm sure I'll survive." Riza said.

"Edward and Alphonse are working on your case, and the others are helping, I just didn't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"I'll be fine." Riza assured him. He searched her face, as if to check that she was telling the truth, and she nodded ever so slightly, which seemed to convince him that she really would be okay here without him, and he left to go and file the papers, and she followed him to the outer office to wait for him.

The shopping bags from the day out with Rebecca were piled next to Jean's desk, and he only seemed to be putting up with them because Rebecca had sat herself next to them. He kept stealing looks at her instead of doing his work, and Riza hid a smile at his obvious infatuation with her friend, and decided not to interrupt them.

Instead she walked over to Edward, Alphonse, and Kain, who were all sat around a table, pouring over documents that she knew had to pertain to her disappearance, and sudden reappearance. She looked over their shoulders at scattered pictures of what looked like a battleground. It wasn't in Ishval, which were the only battles she could currently remember, although looking at the pictures, she couldn't help but smell dust, blood and something burning. The scar on her neck, which had never bothered her before, ached as if it was linked to a memory that was just out of reach. She picked one of them up, there was nothing remarkable about it, a destroyed building, and people she didn't recognise, but it felt familiar. As if she had stood there, exhausted and drained, clinging onto the Colonel to direct him and also keep herself upright. Distant memories tried to bring themselves into focus, and she picked up another picture, but this time it wasn't a memory of then that sprung to mind, but of earlier today. In the café.

"Becca, do you recognise him?" Riza shoved the picture under her friend's nose and pointed at a man who looked fairly unremarkable. He was dressed in a military uniform, and it bugged Riza that she couldn't read the rank on his shoulders, and had light hair, he wasn't unattractive, but Riza was sure he wouldn't have noticed him if she hadn't spent so much time looking at anyone other than Rebecca earlier today. He had the sort of face that would normally have just faded into the background.

"Didn't he sit two tables over from us?" Rebecca asked.

Riza nodded, and now that she thought about it, she could've sworn that she'd seen him elsewhere. Browsing in the department store where she'd brought some clothes, and loitering on the street corner smoking a cigarette as they walked from one place to another. "Yeah, but I don't think that's all." Riza hesitantly shared what she swore she remembered. Maybe she was being paranoid, and all of it was a coincidence, but she'd bet it wasn't.

"Breda, let's see if we can track this guy down." Jean said, and handed the picture to him. "Hawkeye, you shouldn't be alone. At all."

Riza nodded, she wasn't even willing to think about being alone right now. She took a spare seat in the corner of the room, and smiled warmly at both Alphonse and Edward, who both stared at her with worried looks on their faces. If it was true, that the man had followed her and Rebecca around town, and that he was there the day she disappeared, then the lead was a good thing. Even if her stomach was tied up in knots and her heart felt like it was trying to beat itself out of her chest. If they could find him, and catch him, then this nightmare might come to a close. Or come closer.

Roy's arrival back into the office was met with action that disturbed Riza from her thoughts and worries. Jean pulled him into his office, and closed the door, only for moments later it to slam open again. Roy stood in the doorway and stared right at her, his face full of worry and anger. "Are you-"

"I'm fine. Go back to work, I'll wait here until it's time for you to go home."

Roy exchanged a look with Jean, who nodded. "We've got it, boss. Take care of her for us."

"Call me at home if you need anything, Fuery, bring over anything that needs my signature," Roy ordered, as he grabbed his coat. "Edward, carry Hawkeyes bags down to the car."

"I am not carrying her bags for you." Edward complained. "I'm busy trying to timeline the last two years of her life."

"This will take five minutes."

"Five minutes I'm not working on something important." Edward fired back.

"I'll do it. I want to stretch my legs." Alphonse said, as if he could sense the danger of that turning into an actual argument. He gathered up her bags, and along with Rebecca, who had her hand on her gun, followed her and Roy out of the building and to the car.

Roy drove them home in silence, his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and he kept checking the rearview mirror, in case they were being followed from his office, to his home. Riza didn't have the words to comfort him, but she placed a cautious hand on his knee, which seemed to do the job, or at least he relaxed his hands from their death grip around the steering wheel.

It was only when they got into the house, and closed all the curtains, to block out prying eyes, that Riza felt safe enough to talk about it. "At least we have a lead now." She said. "That's something."

"I should've been with you today."

So that was what was eating away at him. Guilt over not being able to protect her from being followed. He really needed to stop doing this to himself, but Riza had the feeling that he never would. That along with everything good about Roy, this annoying and frustrating tendency to fill himself with guilt over her well being, was just something that would never disappear.

"You would've hated shopping with me and Becca, and you know it." Riza pointed out. "She was with me, and armed, if anything had happened-"

"-Something did happen, Riza. You were followed by someone who might've been responsible for taking you in the first place."

"Oh, is that what happened? Thank you for spelling it out for me." Riza snapped back at him. "He followed, but he didn't do anything. Let's just be thankful about that, shall we?"

"That's not the point."

"You're not my bodyguard, Roy. I'm yours." Riza said. "Stop feeling guilty over this."

"No, right now, your protection is my priority." Roy said. "And, fine, maybe I do feel guilty, but that's just because I can't lose you again."

Riza softened, still annoyed, but not so much that she couldn't push it to the sidelines of her mind to take his hand and squeeze it gently. She was still here, nothing had happened to her, she wasn't lost. "You won't." Riza promised.

"But-"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Not again." Riza declared. "We'll find who did this, we'll make them pay for it, okay?"

"Pay how?" Roy asked.

"You're not setting them on fire." Riza said. "I want them to live their entire lives locked away from the world and forgotten by everyone."

"And you called me dramatic earlier."

"You were." Riza insisted.

"I wasn't that bad."

Riza put on a deep voice; "And this is how you perform a resurrection." She rolled her eyes and dropped the act. "Dramatic."

Roy snorted with laughter, and the mood that had overtaken him broke into something a little less angry and guilty. "Fine. It was a little dramatic."

"I'm glad you agree." Riza said. "So. What are we going to do?"

Roy shrugged, and sat down on his battered couch, and pulled her down so she was sitting next to him. He looked lost in thought, and she let him ponder whatever it was that was going through his mind. "How would you like a trip to the country?"

"The country?" Riza asked. "Why?"

"I thought we could visit your childhood home, see if you can remember anything from then." He said. "It won't be easy, your childhood wasn't exactly happy. But it would get you out of the city, and hopefully away from prying eyes."

Riza had thought about her childhood, the father that had inked his notes onto her back, and what she might've felt towards him. Now it was just sadness that she couldn't remember him, for good or ill. Answers were never easy, but the bad parts of her life were just as important to remember as everything else. Ishval had taught her that.

"Okay. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." Roy agreed.

#The Meaning Of Death #Royai #Riza Hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Rebecca Catalina #I'm not sure if I'm happy with this or not #Tbh it took so many tries to get anything for it #That in the end I think I've just given up #It did everything it needed to do #And I don't hate it #But eh #IDK

[ruffoverthinksthings]

Can you do malvie for the ship meme?

1.Whois the most affectionate?:

Evie.

Shewas trained by her mother to shower her “future prince” with asmuch love and affection as she possibly could before starving himshortly after, so the flame of his passion wouldn’t go out, his eyewould never stray, and he wouldn’t consider something soscandalous, hurtful—and most importantly, jeopardizing to EvilQueen’s desired standard of living—as divorcing Evie, or runningaway with “some harlot” and taking all of the money andreputation with him.

Ona darker note, Mal has been reluctant to show affection to prettymuch anyone as Maleficent has been keen in her attempts to drill andbeat all the love and kindness out of her. She got better with datingBen and hanging out with their friends, but it’s hard to undosixteen years of brutally efficient conditioning.

2.Bigspoon/Little spoon?:

Malis the big spoon, Evie is the little spoon, always.

Regardlessof whether or not you subscribe to Mal getting moreFaerie/Dragon-like now that she’s getting a regular doses of magicto her system (and proper nutrition beside), Mal is incrediblyprotective of her girlfriend, and Evie is more than happy to beprotected, cuddled, and loved in such an obvious way.

3.Mostcommon argument?:

WhatMal is wearing, especially to public events in their adulthood. Mal’smost common complaint is “But you picked this out for me!” iscountered with “I have a better idea!”

4.Favoritenon-sexual activity?:

Casuallymaking up insults and comebacks for the people that still haven’tgotten used to VKs being productive, accepted, and contributingmembers of society. Sometimes, they do them with their friends,during playful teasing or the odd occasion where they wish to cutdown the others ego.

5.Whois most likely to carry the other?:

Mal.

Eviewill carry Mal if it’s a matter of life and death, butotherwise, Evie is more than content to be the princess being carriedoff by her lover—she may have been wearing high-heeled boots sinceshe could walk, but she still isn’t immune to the pain of wearingthem for too long.

6.Whatis their favorite feature of their partner’s?:

Mal’seyes are Evie’s favourite. Aside from the striking emerald colour,she enjoys how they light up when she’s happy, excited, or angry,and how you can tell she is not someone to be messed with from a lookalone.

Evie’sskin is Mal’s favourite. Because Evie was the only one with anyreliable access to both proper and homemade cosmetics and body careproducts, she was one of the few VK girls with almost flawless skin;she’s long been jealous of Evie for having such soft, warm, andnon-scarred and bruised skin, and now she realizes that jealousy wasfrom not being the one caressing that.

7.What’sthe first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings forthe other?:

Eviesuddenly gets suspiciously reluctant to help pick outfits out for Maland especially witness her changing clothes, because now she realizeswhy she’s so incredibly, casually touchy-feely with her, and it’snot just because the concept of personal space is pretty non-existentin the Isle.

Malgets incredibly avoidant with everything involving Evie, andfiguratively and literally runs away from her such as sleeping overfor weeks at a time with anyone who will let her in their room,trying to find some way to not be partnered with her on schoolprojects, and finding increasingly flimsy reasons to not hang outwith Evie aside from “I’m avoiding you because I’ve realizedI’m gay for you, and I don’t want to accidentally blurt thatout.”

8.Nicknames?& if so, how did they originate?:

Asidefrom “M” and “E,” there’s “Princess” for both of them,“Blue” for Evie, and “Sparky” for Mal. The last one is Mal’shabit of lighting up dark rooms and candles using her magic as amatter of convenience and flair.

9.Whoworries the most?:

Mal.

Shehas just started admitting to herself that she cares deeply aboutthese people and that she doesn’t see them as mere tools, and tosee or to think that something bad will happen to them sends her in atizzy. It doesn’t help that she’s slowly revitalizing heratrophied sense of Fairy Empathy, and she’s feeling intenseemotions after 16 years of pushing them down.

10.Whoremembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?:

Mal.

Shehas a better memory than Evie; not as infallible as Jane’s orJordan’s, but still impressive. This is both because she ishalf-Fae and because she has had to remember a lot of details andinformation for her evil schemes, both for lack of reliable writingimplements on the Isle, and to keep people from finding out thedetails and turning it against her.

11.Whotops?:

Evie.

12.Whoinitiates kisses?:

Evie.

Malloves them, and can’t get enough, but since Evie keeps making herstop functioning for minutes to hours after some particularly intensekisses, she knows better than to give in to temptation most days. Shedoesn’t stop Evie if she initiates, however, because now it’sEvie’s fault that she couldn’t do the thing she needed to do.

13.Whoreaches for the other’s hand first?:

Evie.

Again,Mal was taught and habituated to avoid all form of physical affectionand feelings for other people, to maintain the objective distancefrom people so you can use them as you should: tools.

14.Whokisses the hardest?:

Evie.

It’spart of the Evil Queen’s chief strategy—push and pull, “leavehim drowning in your love one day, leave him high and dry the next,never let him rest.”

15.Whowakes up first?:

Mal.

Evierequires her beauty sleep, and Mal is used to waking up early to keepfrom being victimized and have a headstart on all her mischief and“the good stuff” before someone else takes it.

16.Whowants to stay in bed just a little longer?:

Evie.Again with the beauty sleep, and later on, so she can cuddle with herown personal tiny space heater some more.

17.Whosays I love you first?:

Mal,surprisingly enough.

Eviehas only ever learned to say “I love you” as a means tomanipulate her exes and people to get them to do what she wants;she’s never really understood or considered ever meaning that shedoes in fact love that person.

Andbefore you ask, Mal blurted out those three magical words after Eviefinally confronted her, and demanded that she tell her just whyexactly she’s suddenly avoiding her all the time.

18.Wholeaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does itusually say?):

Evie.

“Thesecret ingredient is love, and also (list of exotic ingredients orflairs in her cooking here).”

19.Whotells their family/friends about their relationship first?:

Mal,largely because it’s easy to tell that to a lizard who’s onlycapable of communicating through a very basic text-to-speech consolewith an intentionally limited number of buttons and sentences you canmake out of them.

Itwas also easier for her, “Because I had already made myself a giantdisappointment to her once, what’s a second time?”

20.Whatdo their family/friends think of their relationship?:

Maleficentseems even more disappointed and disgusted with Mal than usual, it’shard to tell when she can’t really make facial expressions, and hasto communicate via pressing buttons with her tiny lizard claws.

EvilQueen is disappointed. “This wasn’t the royalty I wished you tomarry, Evie.” She’s even more disappointed when she learns thatMal is going into a career as an artist–”At least be an artDEALER!”–that they live in a very modest apartment, and Evie isactively GIVING away her wealth and talent on a regular basis withoutexpecting something in return or “taking advantage of” (abusing)the goodwill she’s earning with the people.

21.Whois more likely to start dancing with the other?:

Evie.

She’salways the first one on the dance floor, looking for someone that cankeep up with her, and even though Mal still can’t hope to hell withmatching her style, she’s perfectly content to be the incrediblystupid-looking human pole that Evie is dancing around.

22.Whocooks more/who is better at cooking?:

Evie.

Asidefrom the facts that Mal has never cooked for herself or done much ofanything entirely by herself except evil plots, and Evie has beentrained in how to cook and has an instinctive understanding of mixingand combinations because of her lineage, Evie just likes doing allthe “wife stuff” while Mal would rather distance herself from it.

23.Whocomes up with cheesy pick up lines?:

Neither.

Eviehas long developed a distaste for them ever since she starteddissecting how incredibly sexist, raunchy, and outright disgustingthey can be, while Jay has forever ruined that for Mal.

24.Whowhispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear duringinappropriate times?:

Evie.

Yetagain, another technique from the Evil Queen–”Always keep him onhis toes, promise reward, but only ever give it when he’s justabout to give up.”

25.Whoneeds more assurance?:

Mal.

Self-confidenceissues, and a demanding, horrifically abusive mother with impossiblyhigh standards, ahoy!

26.Whatwould be their theme song?:

“Seventeen”from “Heathers: The Musical.”

Thesetwo have been stripped of their childhoods and forced to become grownup well before they should be, and while there’s no reclaimingtheir innocence or going back to the time before they realized theentire world was out to get them and that life just isn’t fair,they can act their age and do normal, everyday things like regularteenagers, or later, adults.

27.Whowould sing to their child back to sleep?:

Mal.

She’sthe one who’s most protective and concerned over their futurechildren, unless it’s Dizzy—she’s Evie’s sole domain.

28.Whatdo they do when they’re away from each other?:

Malworks on her art or explores the big wide world to get inspiration,Evie socializes and reminds herself what it’s like to hang out withsomeone who isn’t her girlfriend, and of course, run her business.

29.oneheadcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart:

Asmentioned, Mal’s avoiding Evie at all costs once she realizes thatshe’s in love with her, which is coincidentally the reason why Evierealized she was in love with her back—having your female bestfriend suddenly completely avoid you like you’re the Crimson Curse,spending lots of lonely nights laying in bed, and being prone torumination and overly meticulous examination does that.

Evielikely falls into a depression, finding herself unable to work,socialize, or do all the things she could, experiencing what it’slike to legitimately be heartbroken—made worse by the fact thatthey never really were a “thing” to begin with.

30.oneheadcanon about this OTP that mends it:

Fedup, depressed, and possibly just a little bit concerned at thethoughts she was having after she sharpens her new pair of shears andrealizes they could cut pretty much anything just like that, even byaccident, Evie finally decides to stop “lamenting her faith” likea “lady should,” breaks out of the tower prison their room hasbecome, and goes on to find Mal, corner her, and demand that she tellher just why it is that their friendship has suddenly gone to shit.

“Thisis bullshit, Mal! We’ve been friends for years! Did all ofthat mean nothing to you?” Evie starts tearing up, and thistime, she’s not feigning it for sympathy. “Did I ever meananything to you…?”

Mal’sface contorts in pain. “Yes, but–!”

“Butwhat, huh?!” Evie snaps. “What is it, Mal?! Tell me, evenif it’s the last thing you’ll ever say to me!”

“Ilove you!” Mal screams.

Evieblinks. “What…?”

Mallooks like a sheep just realizing that a dragon’s open jaws areright above it. There’s a reflexive part of that wants to makesomething up and avoid this whole business, before she finally admitsto herself that all this evading has done nothing but worsen theproblem, and that she’s done withrunning.

“Ilove you,” Mal says, quieter and slower. “I love you as way morethan my best friend, and that freaks me the fuck out, becauseI know that if we get together, it’s probably going to be all aboutthe sex and pissing off our moms and ironically making the guys wantyou more, just like it was on the Isle, and I don’t want thatanymore!

“… Now…now, I want to actually get serious with you… like date youexclusively, hold your hand and kiss you even if no one can see us,fuck for more reasons than we’re bored and have nothing better todo… maybe even get married and try and start a family, settle downtogether and all that domestic crap…”

Eviestares at Mal, her cheeks wet with fresh tears.

Malsighs, turns around, and hangs her head. “I’m sorry…” shesays, her hands balling into her fists, her nose getting stuffy withsnot, her own eyes getting blurry and hot with tears. “I’m sorryI’m such a huge fuck-up who can do anything but ruineverything…”

Sheprepares to bolt again, no destination except anywhere away fromhere, before Evie grabs her shoulder and spins her around.

Malgets ready to snap, figuratively or literally breathe fire on Evie,before she feels her smash her lips on hers, and suddenly Mal’seyes go wide as her body turns to gelatin. Evie grabs the sides ofher head to keep her from falling away, before she pulls back.

“Ilove you too, Mal,” Evie says, her bloodshot eyes shining, her lipscurled into a smile.

Malblinks. “Wait, what?”

“Ilove you too, Mal,” Evie says. “I realized that some time afteryou started sleeping over all the time. And for your information, Ialso don’t want to do what we did on the Isle, and I also want tosee if we can make a future here… together.”

Malstares at Evie, her mouth falling open in surprise, before she findsherself grinning. “Man… we fucking suck at this ‘romance’business…”

Eviechuckles. “We’re VK, Mal—it’s kind of our thing.”

Malfinds her footing again, wraps her arms around Evie, and the two ofthem kiss once more.

Meanwhile,on the sidelines, all of their friends and several other Auradon Prepstudents gush over them, take pictures, or talk quietly amongthemselves, asking “Should we… should we leave? Or do we justtell them to go find a room…?”

#descendants #disney #headcanon #malvie

[myvoice2020]

Learning to find my voice..

It's unreal right? You think the world is your oyster.. everything is going GREAT then BAMM.. you're right back at the start again. I like to think I have my shit together, that nothing in this world effects me.. but who am I kidding? The sad reality is the bad has changed my whole vision on the big wide world and all the beauty that can be. At the age of 25 i've felt so much heartache, so much pain and enough emotion to last a life time.. I like to think I'm a good person, with a pure heart. But each and everytime I feel I'm achieving something BAMM right back to the start I go. Childhood will always remain with me.. not for the family holidays, or the picnics in the park. Or not even the walks and laughter; but because it's made me the cold hearted bitch I sometimes can be. I love my mother and father, they did there best.. together, as a unit.. married; unfortunately due to reasons we've never been told.. they separated, went separate ways and become extremely hateful towards one another. As the years went by, we were children.. from a broken home, seeing mum Monday-Friday. And dad Friday-Sunday, the fun was no more. We never did anything TOGETHER. Dad found a new partner, and she was OK.. but I hated the fact she was with him; I cannot explain why..? Maybe she replaced where my mum once stood..? She became his reason to smile and laugh again, that my mum once did. I have no idea why I disliked her so much.. but all I know, I did. She didn't last long, the relationship died out and they both went separate ways.. but as they walked away from each other. My mum found someone, he seemed lovely, I wasn't a huge fan.. but me and my brother learnt to keep our options to ourselves, as we felt responsible for the break up between my dad and his now ex partner. We gave him his due, welcomed him into the home & treated him with the upmost respect... the good soon turned into horror, this 'nice' man soon turned into a absolute MONSTER. It started with stupid things.. but back then caused alot of upset. He'd blame me and my brother for stupid things, for forgetting to do certain things. Or we'd do our chores like mum had asked, and he'd come and make a mess again.. so it looked like we'd not done anything.. we got grounded, told off and sent to our rooms. Because our mum couldnt see beyond his betrayal. We told her and told her, but she was too blind. As I grew older, I grew wiser. And learnt to do things when my mum was present.. if we has something to eat and it left crumbs on the side.. it would instantly have to be cleaned... toys instantly put away as soon as the room looked a mess. Which unfortunately effect me in adult-hood.. I constantly have to clean the toy room, because the mess drives me insane.. or is it fear because we knew the consequences if we didn't listen? .. as we grew older, we watched and heard the most horrific things.. our mother, the women who birthed up and raised us. Would get beat, I'm not on about a slap.. I mean black eyes, broken ribs, bust noses. The amount of blood would send cold shivers down your spine. But she never left?? Why?? She stayed and carried on living the same routine, as soon as alcohol became involved.. all hell would be welcomed into our home. As I grew older i left, I moved in with my dad. Life was good, normality was good. Mum lived across the way, so I seen her often. But everytime something was good, the bad would soon follow. I wont discuss my whole childhood, because it's gone. It's the past and honestly, I hate it. Somethings aren't worth discussing and can be left untold in a past full of heartache. I grew up.. obviously! But unlike most teens. I held onto secrets from my past, from my childhood. I guess I didn't come to terms with certain things.. or didn't learn how to express them, so I turned to drugs and alcohol. I blocked the bad with drugs, and steered clear of the good.. because as soon as good happened, bad quickly followed. It's part of my life I definitely try to forget about.. getting into pointless fights.. why? Pain.. pain made me feel alive! Pain is all I ever knew. I made bad decisions, nothing shocking. But shitty choices, I fell pregnant with my beautiful daughter aged 16.. still a child myself, with a head full of shit and hate.. so I told myself, this child will either be the making or ending of me. I watched my bump grow and grow.. full of questions, what kind of mother would I be? Would I cope? How do I deal with a crying baby? .. aged 17, I gave birth to the most beautiful.. tiny.. human, she was beyond anything I could of ever imagined.. absolutely perfection. As the weeks past, I struggled.. silently, because we grew in a house hold where we didn't talk.. we didn't share our emotions, we kept everything locked away.. because you'd just be laughed at or called stupid. Midwives and health visitors told me I had post natal depression.. but I was in denial, absolutely not! I was a young mum, learning my place in the world with a tiny human.. I wasn't depressed! But actually I was. Stupidly depressed. I cried. For hours, locked myself away from the world.. and refused to bond with this tiny human.. I used to think she was nothing to do with me.. when she cried, I'd just stare and hope she'd go back to sleep.. I couldnt cope. After finally admitting it was PND I dealt with it.. learnt again, took baby steps. And learnt this little baby was mine.. this precious little girl was mine, to love.. to cherish and to keep away from bad. I went on to have another beautiful boyo, who was so big chubby and beautiful! Again I'm not getting into the whole story.. I'd write a book if I started! So I met a man.. someone I 'thought' was lovely.. things went pretty fast.. seemed good.. We moved to a new home,.away from the area.. he was adamant we couldn't stay local.. and wanted a 'fresh start'.. no he wanted to remove me away from.people i loved.. which at the time I wasn't aware of. The first few months in our new home, went well. But then the secrets soon started to appear. He was a alcoholic.. and I never knew?.HOW? I lived with this man, and never knew he had a problem.. WOW. I should of walked. But I didn't, stupidly I didn't. In time his true course appeared, he'd message other girls behind my back.. meet them and the rest I'm sure you can think of without me getting into it. But that would apparently be my fault?.. why.? I do not know! But I stupidly still stayed, because he'd be adamant he did nothing wrong and I believed him!! Stupid women.. should of ran.. and ran and not stopped! I found out I was pregnant, I was absolutely heartbroken.. I DID NOT want this baby, how could I bring a baby into this?? How would it be fair? My older children were already suffering because of this knob.. I refused to bring another child into the mess!!! I booked an abortion, the last resort. But I had to do this.. he didn't agree, like most other things. But this had to be done.. the hours turned into days.. and the days turned into two weeks later, the morning of the abortion.. full of emotions I can never explain. I set myself to have this done, I knew it was the answer.. I went to leave, but the car had gone? He'd taken my car so I couldnt attended my appointment. So as you're be aware, the abortion didn't take place. I was pregnant, with a baby by a man who I hated. But as the months went by; I came to terms with 'it's my baby's regardless of the outcome I will be the best mum to my unborn child and love s/he unconditionally! The pregnancy was dreadful, he was constantly drunk.. vile, the names he used to call me were absolutely degrading.. the names he'd call my children were disgusting. As soon as he picked up a tinie I knew, I was in for a night full of nastyness. Was history repeating itself?? Was I turning into the empty shell my mother once was? I kept it away from people.. kept it to myself, because I thought things would get better.. but they grew worse.. the nightmare soon begun, that I do not wish to talk about, not now or again for that matter. October came.. and I gave birth to my beautiful baby BOY. He was perfect. The relationship remain the same.. but I didn't walk, I didn't want another child going through a broken home, I get the heartache. But he did the unthinkable, harmed my baby.. his own flesh and blood. Then refused to hold his hands up and suffer the consequences. He made me look as bad as him in a court room, I was held in the pool of perpetrators like him.. because he refused to admit it!!! This was his last chance of having control, he had me right where he needed me.. and was still in control. He knew the longer he kept the secret away from the public eye and court.. he still had CONTROL, I'd be treated as terrible as him.. but fortunately I wasnt. They knew i didn't do this, and just needed him to admit the wrong doing.. which he FINALLY DID!!!!! Even with a court order he'd still make my life miserable.. still TRY and be in control... but I wasn't her anymore, i started finding my inner strength. This man causes absolute heartache, ripped my family away from me and still thought he'd control me.. still thought I was under his spell.. but I grew stronger.. wiser and more clever, he lost! For once i was starting to win. Every single day, I fight battles inside my own mind. That I cannot even put into words, I'm still learning and coming to terms with life. Because when you learn to lower your guard, good things DO happpen.. but I most learn not every good follows a bad, and not every person drinking alcohol are bad people. Not everyone who talk badly to you will forever do it.. But I also must remember I'm still learning.. still adapting. But I'm alive, and so long as I have breath in my body.. I'll carry on fighting the demons, because I'm a mother.. a partner, a friend and someones daughter. And for that reason, I'll put my brave face on.. and just remember the reasons I never gave up.. I do not want my children to grow around hate and anger.. I want them to feel nothing but love and commitment and know, I will love them forever! And as there mother, I will do my upmost to love and care for you. And as a partner.. I'm learning, learning not everyone is the same.. but always remember, you are my reason to smile. And your helping me every day.. without even talking, you instantly put me at ease. I'm ready, to deal with the past. Because I hate the way that shit makes me feel.. I've got this!