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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

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The Stars Are Not Wanted Now

Was this among my list of WIPs I posted recently? No. Not at all. Because it popped into my head fully formed and hurt my feelings so I decided to make it everyone’s problem.

TW: Believed character death (not real) ,grief, discussions of hallucinations.

Title cheerfully stolen from W. H. Auden’s Funeral Blues

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It took Geralt almost an hour to realize what he’d done. He’d sat and stewed and wished his tearducts would give him more catharsis than a handful of small drops. He wanted to sob, really cry, eyes red and face wet, but his body let him down. He stared for a while at the dirt. At the footprints in the dirt.

They weren’t his. They were from Jaskier’s stupid shiny boots. Impractical boots that gave him blisters, but he’d only had enough money for one pair and he needed ‘court boots’ apparently. And he was walking down the mountain in those silly boots and a doublet that wouldn’t keep him warm as the mountain air chilled with night and Geralt had just let him go. Geralt had made him go. He didn’t have any gear, they shared gear and Geralt had made him leave.

Geralt’s slow, witcher heart beat double time as he realized he might have murdered his bard.

Roach huffed at him for being gone so long but he shushed her and loaded her up as quickly as he could. He needed her, and Jaskier needed him.

Geralt followed the footprints like a bloodhound, eyes and senses searching, but his mind wandered behind. Their relationship was such an odd one, Jaskier always traveling ahead or staying behind. Bards needed audiences and witchers needed wilderness, but they were never more than a few days from eachother, and every town Geralt went into he could be sure Jaskier was there. There had been exceptions of course, when bardic festivals or court appointments swayed Jaskier’s path, but he always came back. It was down to the separate nature of Geralt’s Path, with the capital P, and Jaskier’s path. Bards traveled between towns, straight shots, rarely sleeping rough, so his bard didn’t need gear, and it would only slow him down. Witchers wandered, fighting a monster here, collecting potion ingredients there, and coming to towns only for contracts and coin.

Geralt’s eyes scanned every inch of the track, never missing the boot prints, noting the depth of them, the scent of sadness lingering. A human would have missed the single, red thread caught on a bush, the shade of Jaskier’s stupid, too thin doublet. Geralt’s fingers plucked it from a branch.

He remembered how, in the first years of their acquaintance, he’d watched the bard walk away each time, believing he’d never see him again. But Jaskier had always come back. He’d circle around or wait in the next tiny village, playing ditties for barmaids and he’d greet Geralt with a smile that struck something sensitive and previously well protected in Geralt’s chest. Slowly Geralt had started expecting Jaskier’s presence and those treasured smiles.

It had come with detriments, that was true, Jaskier talked so much Geralt wondered how he found the air and he was foppish and disinclined to wake before noon. It was just that, so slowly that Geralt didn’t know how it had happened, those faults found favor in Geralt’s eyes.

And now he’d told Jaskier he was a burden. That he wanted him gone. As Geralt had grown to treasure his bard he’d stopped expecting Jaskier would leave him and started fearing he would instead. Geralt had just been the creator of his own nightmares, doing to their friendship what wind, weather, time, and age could not.

That was the thing, Geralt thought as his eyes scanned the trail, near invisible in the dark. Age. Jaskier was forty at least. Crow’s feet, Yennefer had said. He would have to leave Geralt sooner or later, settle in some city and see him only if Geralt sought him out. The impending end to their precious routine rolled Geralt’s stomach and took over his thoughts. Now, though, well, how weak was a forty year old human? Strong enough to go down the mountain in the dark? It seemed so, which was frustrating. Geralt was going as fast as he could while tracking Jaskier’s every footstep, but even his magical eyes only saw so much in total darkness. Jaskier was hiking blind.

A new scent drifted to Geralt’s nose. Wolf. A mixture of fur and wilderness and wet dog.

And blood.

Geralt let go of Roach’s reigns, sprinting as best he could, letting his nose lead him. He could smell blood. He followed it into the trees, crashing through the brush, careless of the briars that tore at him. He didn’t even smell his own blood, it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. All his senses narrowed down to the smell of Jaskier’s blood and...

and his eyes saw red. a torn doublet,

Geralt lurched forward, hoping, praying that it didn’t mean what he knew it meant. He clutched the rags to him and he stumbled. His foot hit something.

A boot. A stupid, shiny boot and it reeked of blood. Geralt let it fall from numb fingers. A tiny beam of moonlight struggled down, gleaming dully off of leather. Geralt knelt before the instrument case, smelling blood on the strap, feeling the contours of it. When he lifted it it was heavy. Jaskier had died alone on a vicious mountainside, devoid of his beautiful doublet and his lute.

Geralt felt a puff of breath on the back of his head. Roach had followed after him, picking her way through the forest in the wake of his mad dash. He pressed his face into her mane and finally felt tears flood his cheeks. She settled beside him when he no longer had enough water to cry and he just stayed there, knelt between tree roots and bushes, cradling the lute and a scrap of doublet that still smelled like chamomile.

He didn’t move until dawn.

When the runny light of morning came Geralt just moved on. Whatever had happened to Jaskier’s body, he couldn’t see it. Of course the bard deserved a proper burial, and Geralt cursed his weakness all the way down the mountain, but there mightn’t be much of Jaskier left to find. Geralt felt sure that if he saw his friend like that he’d simply lay down next to him and die too.

He already felt like he might.

Geralt moved on, physically. He moved around, slinging Jaskier’s lute up with his saddlebags. He wandered between towns and fought monsters, going north in a roundabout way. Going home.

Kaer Morhen was going to be cold that year, it always was, and Jaskier was never there, but without the hope of Jaskier’s smile in the spring the cold seemed to have taken residence in his soul.

Geralt wasn’t eating well. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than chew a few pieces of dried meat. He drank a lot and didn’t sleep and took too many risks when fighting monsters. It was foolish, he knew, it was how witchers died, getting sloppy like that. He did it anyway. And on the rare nights he did sleep, he clutched the tattered piece of doublet. The chamomile scent was slowly fading and Geralt feared when it left entirely. It and the doublet were all he had.

In light of all of this, Geralt wasn’t that surprised when he finally lost it. He heard music in a tavern and it sounded like Jaskier. Every bard sounded like Jaskier now. There were no instruments, just an achingly familiar voice. Of course, Geralt still had the lute.

When he walked into the tavern and saw a bard turn, saw Jaskier smile wide at him, Geralt didn’t even flinch. His medallion was still on his chest. This was no ghost, he had simply lost his mind.

Geralt sat at the bar without looking away from the apparition, and his heart swelled as it sauntered towards him. Jaskier looked so lifelike, so alive. There wasn’t a scratch on him. He was exactly the bard Geralt remebered, no crows feet to be seen. He was dressed in blue, not unlike when they had first met. Geralt’s heart twisted as he remebered all things he’d said, and, even worse, the things he hadn’t. His heart was thundering in his ears, blood rushing, everything else tuned out. It didn’t matter that Geralt had gone crazy, Jaskier was here and so beautiful and Geralt loved him so much that it hurt.

“Mind if I join you?” The hallucination said. Geralt just stared. He wasn’t going to talk to it, there were enough rumors about witchers without the townsfolk knowing he was crazy.

“C’mon, now, Geralt,” the faux Jaskier said. “You wouldn’t keep a man with bread in his pants waiting.”

Geralt just stared as the bard pulled a half-eaten roll from his pocket and winked. The hallucination stopped smiling, shoulders slumping. “I’ll go,” it said.

“Stay,” Geralt whipsered immediately. He was alright with going crazy because this last bit of comfort was so tantalizing, so real Geralt could almost reach out and touch. “Please,” he said, even quieter. “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier beamed and sat and ate and Geralt wondered idly who the bartender served in place of the man he knew couldn’t be there.

Geralt had thought the hallucination would be gone in the morning, but the vision of Jaskier was standing by Roach the next day, a travel bag over one shoulder. Okay, Geralt’s brain was in it for the long haul. Fine, but there had to be rules. That momentary weakness last night couldn’t happen again. He needed to get to Kaer Morhen soon if he wanted to beat the snows and there could be no distractions. So, no talking to the bard.

It was very hard not to talk to the hallucination. It traipsed and danced and prodded and teased, but when it got not even a hum in response the exhuberance dimmed. That was horrible. Geralt didn’t need the reminder that he’d hurt Jaskier’s feelings, he’d already killed him. The proof was walking right beside him.

Something in Geralt felt healed, though. It was why he didn’t try to fix this. Having Jaskier, even if it wasn’t real, was nice. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and kissed the bard. It was his hallucination after all. The thought, though, that he would reach out to Jaskier, who looked so real and alive, and feel nothing but air....Geralt would rather go through the trials again. It would be like losing Jaskier all over.

One night, when the hallucination reached out for the instrument strung on Roach’s saddle Geralt tensed. Some part of him believed that if this shade of Jaskier was reunited with his beloved lute he’d go, dissappear and leave Geralt all alone again. He didn’t, of course. This wasn’t a spirit, Jaskier wasn’t tied to this realm by the lute. He was a figment of Geralt’s tortured mind.

He played Toss a Coin and Her Sweet Kiss. As far as Geralt knew, Jaskier hadn’t finished the latter, but his imagination finished it anyway. It hurt to hear Jaskier singing about love unrequited, it was obviously about Yennefer but that...that wasn’t Geralt’s love. Geralt’s love had be eaten by a mountain. Red sky at dawning, Geralt had had enough of red. It didn’t put him in mind of Yennefer’s lips or of rubies or harpies or anything else, but Jaskier’s doublet, the scrap still hidden in Geralt’s bags, and some words. “See you around, Geralt”

The apparition continued to play, but Geralt turned his face away. Maybe this was torturing him for killing his only blessing.

At the crossroads of the northern mountains Geralt paused. He had been walking besde Roach, resting her for the trek up the Killer, with Jaskier’s lute across the saddlebags and his hallucination trailing along behind. This was where Jaskier always parted from him in the autumn, and the hallucination stepped forward, reaching toward the lute on Roach’s back. Geralt felt ice down his spine.

His hallucination was going to leave, of course it was, Geralt had never brought Jaskier to the keep, but to be there all winter without this small, fake comfort would kill him.

Geralt wrapped his hand around the lute strap, ready to pull it from the nonexistant fingers of his dead companion. “No,” he said.

He slung the lute over his shoulder and walked toward the Killer, praying that his failing mind wouldn’t choose now to become sane. To his relief, the hallucination followed.

On the way to the keep the vision changed into a warmer cloak and gloves and Geralt marveled at the detail. He wondered if he wasn’t dead himself, or asleep and simply dreaming, but he kept going up the trail, hearing the crunch of Jaskier’s shiny boots on frost. The vision talked and Geralt loved its voice and cursed the sound.

Night was falling when they reached the gate of the keep, and Geralt could see three lit lanterns, one for each brother and another for Vesemir. He paused, watching the lights come closer. He drew a breath, in through his nose, smelling pine and chamomile, out through his mouth. He couldn’t let the others know. He had to pretend that the ghost of all his regrets wasn’t doggin his steps. He flexed his fingers on the strap of the lute.

“Don’t just stand there, idiot, get in here, it’s cold,” Lambert called. Eskel smiled at Geralt and took Roach’s reigns, cooing to her as Geralt followed Vesemir and Lambert into the hall.

The fire was lit and warmth seeped into Geralt’s numb fingers and toes. Vesemir raised an eyebrow at him.

“Aren’t you going to introduce your guest?”

“What?”

“Vesemir shook his head. “Gods almighty, Geralt, I didn’t raise you boys with much manners but I thought you had some.” Then Vesemir turned to where the vision of Jaskier stood. “You Geralt’s bard?” he asked.

“There’s no one there, Ves,” Geralt hazarded.

Vesemir scowled at him. “Stupid prank to play on your old teacher. Never get an apprentice, lad, they’ll take your sanity and all your time.” That last part wasn’t aimed at Geralt. It was like someone had poured fire into Geralt’s veins.

“You can see him too?” he asked, quietly.

“What game are you--” Vesemir began, but Jaskier’s eyes had gone soft with understanding.

“Oh, Geralt,” he whispered.

Geralt stretched out one shaking hand and caressed his bard’s chilly cheek. Jaskier leaned his face into it and brushed a kiss against the palm. “I’m so sorry, dear heart,” he said, stepping closer to Geralt and wrapping his arms around his neck. “I should have known something was off.”

“You were dead,” Geralt said into the crook of his neck. “There was blood and your doublet was shredded, and you left your lute behind.”

“You truly thought...all this time? Geralt, I thought you knew,” Jaskier said, warm breath brushing Geralt’s ear. To his surprise, Geralt was crying, tiny, bare tears and shoulders shaking.

“Knew you were alive?”

“That too, but dearest, I’m a changeling, on the mountain I...I was so sad I just wanted to run away, and I was so tired, so I became a wolf.”

“Changeling...you’re fae?”

“Only half,” Jaskier said. “Or less, I’m not sure, but I can change into all the animal of the forest.”

“You never have.”

“It’s a painful feeling and you can’t play a lute with wings or paws but I was overwhelmed so I just...oh darling I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think--”

“I smelled blood.”

“My boots, you told me to buy the practical ones, but I didn’t listen.”

Geralt pressed his forehead against Jaskier’s and felt the warmth of him. “You’re alive,” he said. “You’re real and you’re alive.”

“You thought all this time I was a ghost?”

“A hallucination,” Geralt said. “A good dream, or torture for killing my...”

“Killing your what, darling?”

“Killing my love. Letting my greatest blessing be taken from my hands. I thought it was penance, my love.”

Jaskier leaned in and kissed Geralt softly. His lips were soft and perfect and too chapped to be a dream. His breath tasted like the jerky they’d eaten on the trail and it was real. When he pulled away Geralt leaned back in and kissed him again.

“Nothing I said on the mountain was true,” he mumbled against dry lips. “Not a word. I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier said. “And I won’t leave again, not even if you tell me to.”

“I won’t,” Geralt said. “Never again.”

#geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #post mountain #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #angst with a happy ending #fake character death #tw: grief and mourning

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lightrises · 3 years

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"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

#hollow knight #hornet (hollow knight)#hornet hollow knight #hk hornet #the radiance #hk radiance #herrah #hk herrah #hollow knight meta #sup folks it's been a minute since i dropped a whole dang essay but Here We Go!!!!!!

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disfordevineaux · 4 years

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Character Parallels: Chase vs Julia

First off, let me start with:

SEASON 3 SPOILER WARNING.

This is somewhat a continuation from my original Chase Devineaux Case Study I did a while back. Feel free to read it to fully understand the context behind my opinions and thoughts on Chase, Julia and such discussed below. Let’s begin.

Although Season 3 was short, it was still a season that provided us with a new potential story catalyst to propel the plot in the form of major character development.

A bit of context:

Throughout the series, Chase Devineaux was always sceptical and often outright against the idea that Carmen Sandiego could have ulterior motives (due to his ill-fated meetings with the said person driving that home and on the surface she literally is stealing), an idea his previous partner, Julia Argent, was the spokesperson for. To quote a long story short, Chase was not too pleased or in agreement with the idea proposed by Julia: Carmen Sandiego isn’t the real enemy. Others shunned this idea too (Zari & Chief) and consistently was never outright ‘proved’ from a physical evidence standpoint. Both stood on opposite ends of the ‘who really is Carmen Sandiego’ spectrum. This was the major theme of division between Chase and Julia, a plot point further driven by the unlucky streak he suffered when dealing with Team Red, and VILE. Mostly he, and ACME, could not separate the entities completely, even up until the end of Season 3.

In the S03E04, ‘The Masks of Venice Caper’, after 3 seasons of being moments away from Carmen Sandiego at every step, Chase succeeds. After a long and clearly exhausting chase throughout the streets of Venice, he is able to finally catch up.

He leaps aboard after making the jump and officially bears witness to the handing over of goods, something which Julia was only ever afforded. Chase is blindsided at her easy surrender, simple innocent explanation and instantly clean escape. He does not go after her, instead stands bewildered at what she said, leaving him with the important line of: ‘Jules would understand’, (because she would with her prior knowledge and experience), to digest what just occurred.

This was not what he was expecting, as on other occasions they met him with hostility or evasion without explanation. Instead, he is treated as if he were Julia, filling the role as a substitute, as she is no longer on the scene to be the recipient of the ‘handoff’. At this moment, thanks to Carmen’s finale line, it all clicks. Previous conversations run through his mind, visibly questioning, as he makes the connection before being interrupted by Agent Zari, congratulating him on stopping the robbery.

The confirmation that he finally gets it is reaffirmed by a theme of a ‘silent partner’ which he now uses himself with commenting, awkwardly, that ‘I did not do it alone’ (A call back to S01E09, see below). This is the formal affirmation that he now understands that Carmen is not the enemy. There was no way he would have ever connected the dots without visual verification, experiencing it for himself first hand, a situation Julia experienced multiple times by fortune, something people forget when watching him grapple with his inability to detain the ‘thief’. Julia was provided with many chances throughout season 1-2 to work with or in situational coincidence with Carmen and aid in the protection of potential goods in harm’s way. (Most notably S02E04)

Julia’s departure, though disappointing to fans (and myself), was a crucial plot device to enable Chase to be finally exposed to the events which would lead him to change his mind for the better. Unless by some miracle he was chosen as the recipient of Team Red’s well wishes with Julia on the scene and/or in tow, it would have taken far longer for the realisation to be made. An understanding that is only able to be fully recognised by Julia and Chase. The only two people around long enough and familiar enough with Carmen Sandiego and the entire case to be in any position to come to the right conclusion about her intentions.

As many may say, seeing is believing. And seeing was what he needed to believe, both Chase and Julia needing that direct witnessing to understand. Seems the red lining of his original coat meant something after all.

(Do note: Julia was more inclined and susceptible to a conflicting opinion due to her heightened observation skills from the get-go but still needed visual confirmation, which she got, to stand strong with her diverging opinion on Carmen Sandiego.)

The Parallels:

In the next and final episode of S03E05, "The Jolly Good Show Caper", we are greeted with a callback to S01E03’s episode "The Sticky Rice Caper". Instead of Chase and Julia being on their way to interrogate Gray in the Paris Interpol office, Agent Zari and Chase are walking through the halls of the Italian Interpol office to interrogate their latest captured VILE operative, Neal the Eel. From a clearly visual standpoint (see below), the makeup of the scene and placement of characters is a direct callback to the dynamic between both Chase and Julia, and now between Chase and Zari.

S01E03 VS S03E05

Chase now takes the place of Julia, physically and mentally, who listens to a rundown of the situation, proposes a vague counter-argument which is disregarded by Zari. Chase is now wanting to look beneath the surface of the robbery or incident (like Julia always did), unlike before. Similar to the situation in S01E03, Zari is unwavering in her opinion that Carmen and the new detainee are in cahoots, Chase stating that his previous statement was merely ‘entertaining all possible angles’, a comment he further elaborates on to Chief at the end of the episode.

S03E05:

S01E03:

After coming to the interrogation room, Zari dramatically pushes it open in the same style as Chase did seasons earlier, halting her statement to reveal the suspect has ‘escaped’. Zari is stumped, Chase not too phased at this revelation and quickly checks the documents to understand what has occurred, once again.

S03E05

S01E03

Chase again, takes the stance of the ‘Julia’, all-knowing and proceeds to correctly recount the possible scenario that they have found themselves in, having experienced this once before. This ‘recounting of events’ is confirmed to the audience by Chase’s voice monologuing of sorts over an escaping by boat, Neal.

S03E05

S01E03

This scene is interesting for obvious reasons: it’s a direct call back to a later episode and the dynamic within. It is also a pivotal moment we see that Chase was always fully aware of what is happening around him, and really only required the correct pieces to fall into his lap at all the right times to now be the new ‘Julia’ in the dynamic. That style of a sequence of events is what helped Julia see the truth in Carmen’s actions in the first place. Chase has always been cognizant of the events around him, even if they could be contradictory to his main beliefs. Actively choosing not to present it to the audience, in favor of the popular opinion presented by and through ACME, their agents their leader that Carmen Sandiego is the enemy. Half of this being pressure, wanting to succeed in his work, gain praise for it and lack thereof witnessing first hand some sort of ‘positive’ reaffirmation of Carmen’s good intentions and that he really thought he was right. We see this through his sheer self disappointment and embarrassment when facing Chief after mistakes he had no true control over.

Towards the end of the same episode. Carmen is ‘captured’ in London. Agent Zari and Chase receive this development while travelling, Chase jumping out of his seat surprised, shocked, concerned that she was detained saying ‘that is terrible!’. Zari is notable taken aback, Chase quickly tries to collect himself and adjusts his statement and ends with ‘that. we were not the ones to make the arrest.’ Time has passed since the escape of Neal, Chase left to stew with his changing opinions and it clearly appears as if he no longer wishes for Carmen’s capture in the traditional sense, knowing that what she has been doing, is not criminally based. It’s unsure what his plans are when facing Carmen once again, but it at the very least no longer her capture.

Not only are Chase and Julia’s mindsets on the same path, but Chase is also no longer the driver between the pair. A fun nod to how Chase always drove, if dangerously at times.

After events unfold, Chase and Zari soon discover the planted crown jewels in Roundabouts office after a tip off, they run to retrieve them and Chase stops to glance out the window, witnessing Carmen Sandiego flying away from the scene. This is important, if a small detail, in once again showing us he has changed. He is far more observant and is the new candidate to witness the usual things Julia would if she were there. He stopped, was in the right place at the right time, recognised first hand the role Carmen plays in the grand scene of things, as a protector who runs interference.

When things have seemingly been resolved, Chase and Zari are in conference with Chief who details how she deems that it was all an elaborate plan where Roundabout and Carmen were in cahoots. In what is shown to be his first moment ever displaying his new and differing opinions to Chief on the events prior, he details how, maybe, Carmen left the items here for them to discover purposefully. Chief glares at him silently, Chase displaying an awkward reluctant smile, then ignores his opinion moving on. She informs him that it is his job to interrogate Roundabout for answers on how Carmen is connected to him, disregarding his prior though they are not united until Zari receives a phone call. They are informed that Roundabout never reached the destination and has escaped.

S03E05

A Sum Up:

In conclusion, Chase has officially changed opinions on Carmen Sandiego and has fallen into the role Julia left for him when she departed from ACME. Even with the pre-existing knowledge of the hacking by Player and all other indiscretions against him perpetrated by Team Red. He has been through a journey and come out the end with a new perspective

Agent Zari has now acted as both Julia’s and now Chase’s, well ‘Chase’, when it comes to the dynamic of the pairing. In many instances when consulting Chief, Julia has been informed to essentially ‘do her job’ or is only half-listen too, in a subtle way, instead of coming up with theories that don’t necessarily correlate with the majority. This all comes ahead in S03E02 ‘The Day of the Dead Caper’, where Chief is finally blunt with Julia (see below). The same thing has now befallen Chase (see below), except with little to no lead up to instant rejection. All of Chief’s patience for differing opinions was used up, all on Julia it appears.

S03E05

S03E02

The summation of all this produces a new defender of Carmen Sandiego; Chase Devineaux. The likely future outcome will be Chase attempting to contact, seek an audience with Carmen as Julia once attempted, and would succeeded in part from time to time. It is unlikely how well this will go considering Chase and is usually outwardly expressive with his determination to arrest her. One can only hope he is given a chance to rectify his past miscalculations and is able to further support these new set beliefs to ACME, Carmen Sandiego and himself.

One can also hope Julia returns, maybe by a proposition from Chase, who will no doubt have trouble enacting his new purpose of true justice, and seeking answers/help from Carmen Sandiego. This would also promote a chance for an adult discussion, an apology, one sorely lacking in Season 3 between them. With this new air of familiarity between their opinions on Carmen, a rare opinion it appears, a chance for a reformation of a proper team dynamic is possible.

They lacked a connection throughout season 1 and 2 which aided in their bitter union, both full-heartedly, if not realised or intentional, determined to have their opinion victorious over the other to themselves and to those around them. Chase far more openly critical and cynical, Julia keeping such comments more hidden and modest, but also far more willing to stand up for herself to and in front of Chief. (Prominent examples seen in S02E02,4 & 8, S03E02) Chase was aware of his poor behaviour but found it justified in a sense that he truly believed she was misguided, that he was correct about Carmen Sandiego, now knowing she clearly was right all along. (This does not excuse/justify his rudeness in any sense, but can explain it.)

They would be a great team, now finally on the same page but unfortunately separated. Julia has the nohow and Chase possess the drive to make it happen. They do share those traits, each more natural at one over the other. Neither are willing to give up without a fair fight, and proudly declare and justify themselves at every turn, both proud individuals. (Julia far more modest in comparison). If they worked together, who knows the possibilities, if they can change ACME’s stance on Carmen Sandiego or if they decide to abandon it altogether and aid the other fighter of VILE, Team Red. Either way, it was clear Julia could not do it all on her own and I’m sure we will see Chase realise and suffer the same fate. Hopefully reasoning that he needs help, not getting it to form anyone else, remembering Julia, seeking her out and bringing her back to ACME.

Her reason for leaving ACME was that her heart was no longer in it, her passion snubbed out. Her work now directly contradicts her beliefs which are doubted by all those around her at every turn.

A sad but visibly true thing as no one else in ACME was willing to consider her way any longer, her opinion not shared by anyone else, a very demoralising thing to go through. She was always fighting and standing up on her own.

With Chase now sharing this opinion, the burden of seeing and knowing the truth, it will be easier to stand behind with full conviction, to attempt to highlight the innocence Carmen Sandiego has hidden in plain sight, together. Only time will tell how it all plays out.

#season3spoilers #welp #thats was longer than i wanted it to be #HOPE YALL LIKED IT?#chase devineaux #julia argent #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego netflix #if i come back and read this and find any mistakes i will murder someone #cs chase devineaux #cs julia argent #cs 2019 #cs #cs chief #cs agent zari #agent zari #cs roundabout #disfordevineaux #text

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

Note

Saddest billy hcs? I have one where he gets sexually abused by a lifeguard as a kid but never told anyone because he’s scared

I think you sent that to me, bc I for sure wrote one that was that. It’s here. (TW for mentioned sexual assault in the ficlet)

Okay, I’m gonna do this like I did the Steve one. Strap on in.

Warnings for mentions of child abuse and some allusions to substance abuse. There’s one labeled with a TW that deals with self-harm, some suicidal ideation, and substance abuse if you squint real hard

Billy’s a crier. He cries when he’s sad, angry, frustrated, happy, all the time. Neil knows this

They left California bc Neil found out Billy was dating/kissing/screwing another guy and you cannot change my mind

Billy genuinely thinks he’s never going to see 30. He doubts he’ll even see 25. Between Neil, and the fire inside of him that burns way too bright to be sustainable, he figures he’ll be a die young kinda guy

He was chubby as a kid. Neil often called him “Lard Ass”.

We see a lot of Billy using things his father has said against him, against other people, like in the flashback thing in season 3 when Neil calls him a pussy, and then he calls another kid a pussy, basically see above.

Sometimes he refuses to touch Steve for days on end because he is still so disgusted with himself for their fight and how much he hurt him and feels like he doesn’t deserve to touch Steve

Lucas was the first person he apologized to after That Night. Then to Max, then to Steve, then to Mrs. Byers

Hopper pulled him over once for speeding. Bily was shaking their entire interaction and Hopper decided to let him off with a warning when he noticed the red mark on his jaw

TRIGGER WARNING I go back and forth on this one. Sometimes I can picture modern Billy self-harming, but he tends to lash out more than put it on himself so I really don’t know. Sometimes it makes the most sense and sometimes I feel like he’d just be vaguely self-destructive, like party too much and do whatever drug he can get his hands on and drive drunk and just think like ‘if I die I die’

When he gets out of his dad’s house he goes down a big scary road of self-destruction bc he literally doesn’t know how to control himself outside of fearing for his safety from his own father.

Body issues? Body issues.

He has a very weird relationship with himself. He absolutely hates himself and who he is as a person, but he also thinks that he’s the best in all ways and swings wildly between both attitudes

The scar on his eyebrow is from his dad’s class ring. Billy buys an eyebrow pencil to fill it in because while he thinks he looks hot, he also really hates looking at it and knowing why it’s there

The first week they moved to Hawkins, Billy drove to Indianapolis and went on a bender for three days bc he just couldn’t deal with the fact that this shitty town has his life now.

His room has almost no furniture bc he was only allowed to bring what he could fit in the Camaro. He bought himself the couch and his bed frame second hand once they arrived in town

The first time Billy saw Steve was in between classes. Billy walked into a classroom on his first day at Hawkins High, and Steve was talking with the teacher and looked like he was about to burst into tears, and Billy noticed he was holding a failed test, and kept talking about how hard he studied, and his only thought was that he wanted to hold Steve and kiss the sad look off his face, and it was like a block of ice settled in his gut. He hates himself for liking guys, and that’s the whole reason they had to leave California, and he can’t do that here, Neil would kill him this time. He resolves to be nothing but fucking aggressive to Steve if they ever cross paths again because he needs Steve to hate him. He doesn’t have the capacity to stay away from him, he needs Steve to want nothing to do with him.

Steve of course ruins everything by forgiving him and falling in love with him and generally looking Like That so really Billy never stood a fucking chance

Billy has called his dad “Dad” less than five times in his life. It’s always “sir” or he calls him “Neil” when referring to him behind his back

Billy knows the exact date and time his mom left and that whole day is always really shitty for him. He usually spends it in the middle of a bender so he doesn’t have to think or feel about it

Billy felt absolutely disgusted by the group of moms by the pool, but figured if he didn’t play into it, they would start to ask questions, and rumors circulating about him fucking married women were probably better than the rumors about him fucking guys soooo, swings and roundabouts.

Teaching swim lessons is actually one of his favorite things he’s ever done. He can connect with the kids and he likes that kids just speak their minds and are kinda weird sometimes. It was nice to focus on them, too, and not their mothers ogling him from the sidelines

He came out to his mom a week and a half before she left and he often wonders if that’s why

His dad is ex-military and his plan is for Billy to join up after high school. Billy’s plan is to run away before then.

So, here they are. A lot of them kinda deal with the same stuff, but basically, yes.

#ask to tag #yikes headcanons #yikes writes #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #tw child abuse #neil hargrove

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may-day-voice · 3 years

Text

First Impressions

Eijirou Kirishima's Timeline | 172732014

please do not repost, but you have permission to reblog :)

• Watch/ Listen on YouTube: https://youtu.be/UaN7KhnC1WQ

• Read on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1061231254-eijirou-kirishima-pro-hero-au-172732014-first

The ticking of the clock nagged at the back of your mind. It didn't help while you sat at your desk, eyeing the clock on the wall, waiting for the day to end. Today wasn't as exciting as you thought it would be, being one of the few days that you were stuck at a desk rather than patrolling the city. Fourth Kind had been fervent about balancing effectiveness at the agency, but that also meant having to take up the desk job every once in a while.

You stared at the pile of papers you completed forms for regarding reports on your own patrols as well as any others in the agency. The one thing Fourth Kind was very fervent about aside from civil service was prompt paperwork. It was boring if you were being honest. You wanted to be out and about, seeing people, fighting crime, saving a cat, anything but staring at the hands of the clock counting down to the end of the day.

A yawn caught you off guard while you stretched your limbs up high, spying the seconds counting down on the wall.

"Ah, how's my best Hero?" Boomed a voice from behind, turning your head up and backwards to spot Fourth Kind, with all four arms crossed.

"Ah, sir?! Boss! Hey!" You exclaimed with a grin, waving at the Pro-Hero, still leaning against your chair.

"I'll need you to be a part of an operation prepared for downtown Musatafu. You're our best candidate for the job."

Well, that was sudden, and with only ten minutes and sixteen seconds to spare, but your face brightened up at the prospect of being considered for a major operation. It made you fumble a little on your seat, righting yourself to turn towards Fourth Kind properly.

"Whoa really?" You exclaimed, turning your gaze between him and the clock.

"Yes, it's being set up for Esuha City. I was originally part of the First Wave, but the Commission decided to keep us at a distance and put in some young blood," explained Fourth Kind, his eyes pensive at the decision. "Made me think of you to take my place, besides with your running record of keeping the peace in our small neighbourhood, you're a public favorite."

You nervously sighed, pondering on the tiny notion that this choice of his was favouritism over your primary skill set, however, that didn't deter the excitable butterflies in your stomach.

"So, what are the deets to this thing?" You asked, noticing the clock still counting down.

"Well, that's why I came to fetch you," started Fourth Kind. "The meeting's in half an hour at Fatgum's agency."

"What?"

"The operation is set for tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"Pack your desk down. We set out at 1655 hours."

And with that, Fourth Kind left you to your devices, staring blankly at his large back. Despite his passion for civil service, his promptness wasn't ideal at times, catching you off your game most times in the office. It was also part of the reason why you'd prefer patrols.

You stared at the clock, noticing its hands close to the time Fourth Kind had stated earlier before you pulled yourself up from the seat. At the very least, you were given an early mark.

——

The trek to Fatgum's agency wasn't eventful riding in Fourth Kind's car to the office. But with every turn on the road it made your stomach churn. You rapped your fingers on your lap with anticipation, wondering what this meeting was about. It came too suddenly at the end of the day, and as soon as your eyes landed on the building ahead, you could feel the nerves travel through your limbs.

After Fourth Kind parked his car, the both of you entered into Fatgum's agency, noticing a handful of Sidekicks leaving for the day, as well as noticing a small handful of Commission agents waiting around the foyer. Along with them was Fatgum, his burly size hard to miss while he conversed with who you presumed was a Hero. By the look of them, you recognized them as the Head of the Local Hero Network, soon watching them excuse themselves from their conversation to take a phone call.

"The meeting will start soon in Meeting Room One," informed Fourth Kind. "Be ready in ten minutes."

"Will do, sir," you affirmed, finding a smile on Fourth Kind's face before he greeted Fatgum ahead.

After the long drive, you decided to stretch your legs by taking a stroll around the foyer, making note of where the meeting room was held as well as admiring the agency. You've roamed inside once or twice before, but it was on a casual basis, more so because you were involved in Hero activities within the bounds of Esuha City, out of your volition, or out of your control. You sighed remembering the number of paperwork you had to fill, another bane of Pro-Hero life.

You soon found yourself wandering the agency, stumbling across a few Sidekicks who passed by ready to either end the day or start their shifts for the midnight hour. You couldn't imagine anyone who would willingly take graveyard shifts, but shrugged knowing that that wasn't the kind of life you'd ever want to find yourself in. Stuck in thought, you bumped into a tall figure taken by surprise by your absent-mindedness. He took a few steps back, hands up in defense before he uttered a small apology.

"Oh no, that's on me!" You yelped, mirroring the man standing by you with his long blue locks hiding away his eyes from you. "I wasn't paying attention."

"Oh, still, sorry about that," he spoke in a low whisper. "Did I hurt you?"

"Nah, I'm fine. You have a pretty hefty swing in your shoulder though."

"Is that bad?"

"Huh? No, I was going to say that you're probably pretty fit."

You smiled up at the man, finding his eyes looking elsewhere, yet he did not budge or make an attempt to leave your vicinity. You stared at him, wondering where you had seen him before. He looked awfully familiar, but with his casual tee and outfit, you couldn't quite place your finger on who he was.

"Is something wrong?" He quietly asked, noticing your stare.

"Oh sorry, that's rude of me," you apologized with a nervous chuckle. "I'll leave you be. Have a great evening!"

With that, you continued to walk the halls, leaving the broody man behind. You checked the clock on your phone, seeing that there was five minutes left before the meeting was to start. You contemplated if you could take a roundabout route back to the foyer or just turn your heel and walk back the way you came. Still, you may end up crossing paths with that gentleman again, which wasn't a terrible notion if it wasn't for that nagging feeling at the back of your mind that you had seen him somewhere before.

You quickly decided to turn tail hoping to save a few minutes if you trekked back the way you came, your body swinging on your heel until you crashed into somebody. In the collision, as if by reflex, he grabbed hold of your arm while you did the same, stopping you from falling backwards onto the floor. The rush was mind-boggling. You felt like you walked into a brick wall.

"Whoa, hey, you all right?" He asked, concerned for your well-being.

"Yeah I'm fine," you started, still boggled. "Thanks."

"Heh, my bad, I should've looked where I was going."

"Same. I thought I walked right into... a..."

You shook your head a little before you turned to find a redhead before you, his long locks loosely tied behind his head while his headband opened his face up with his toothy grin. He appeared a little disheveled as if he just came out fresh from the showers, but he was built and towered over you in a crisp shirt and track pants. He looked rather friendly though, his bright eyes smiling down at you until he stared into your own stare, his expression curious of your trailing silence while he still kept a hold on you.

"Hey, you sure you're okay?" He asked, waving his hand before your eyes to snap you out of your reverie.

"Huh? What? Yeah, I'm fine," you piped, shaking your head.

"For a minute I thought you had a concussion," he admitted with a smile. "Glad I'm wrong."

You chuckled nervously in reply while you reprimanded yourself internally at the embarrassment that soon travelled through your veins. Were you just staring at his chest of all places? And then the feel of his hands on you as did your hands on his crossed your mind, releasing yourself from him in realization.

In an attempt to keep your thoughts from bay, you pulled out your phone, noticing that you had lost a couple of minutes on the clock. Panic ensued, realizing that this meeting was about to start and you still had to trek back to the foyer.

"Well, nice to meet you. Sorry for the trouble. I have to go," you quickly spoke, running your mouth while you slowly made your way past the man to ready yourself until-

"You're part of Fatgum's meeting, yeah?" Asked the man, catching you off guard and halting you in your tracks.

"Um, yeah?" You replied, hoping not to waste any more time lest Fourth Kind reprimanded you for your lackluster punctuality.

"The foyer is quicker to reach down this way," suggested the redhead, pointing in the other direction.

"Really?"

"Yeah, the agency runs in a loop, it's better than having to walk three quarters of the way back."

That made so much more sense than to rush back the way you came adding more time to your dilemma. You quietly turned towards the redhead, walking past him and continuing to do so down the hall.

"Uh, thanks!" You quickly piped, hoping to get to the meeting before the man appeared beside you again, walking along with you.

"I'm on my way as well, so you don't mind if I join you?" He asked while he rubbed against his neck, rolling his shoulders a little.

"Oh yeah sure, why not?" You quickly spoke, still semi-power walking through the halls hoping that would shave seconds against the clock. Despite your speed, the man kept pace with you, looking unstressed about the matter. If it was the end of his day, he had it easy, unlike this impromptu meeting that was thrusted upon you.

"Wait a minute, you're part of this meeting too?" You asked, spotting a nonchalant look on the man's face.

"Oh yeah, Fatgum spoke to me earlier today about it," he answered with a smile.

"Do you happen to know what's going on?"

"You haven't been briefed about it?"

"I was only told about this whole thing before five this evening, and then the intention of being part of a First Wave? But that's about it."

You noticed something change in the man's demeanor, glancing your way before the both of you arrived into the foyer. It was quicker than you had anticipated to reach your destination before you noticed a group of people outside Meeting Room One. Aong with your boss Fourth Kind and Fatgum, a familiar gentleman spoke casually to the BMI Hero by the doors - that soft spoken man that you bumped into earlier in your wandering. Staring at the two conversing beside each other triggered that nagging feeling again, staring at the scene until it finally clicked where you had seen the man.

You didn't recognize Suneater out of uniform, only realizing that fact when you could visually see him next to Fatgum. You felt your ears warmed with embarrassment, recalling that minor altercation in the hallway despite it being a to and fro of self-blaming one another. You had spoken words with one of Fatgum's Top Heroes, in fact, with one of the most highly sought out and spoken about Heroes to graduate from UA in his time. And all you did was just stare. You felt like hiding away between your shoulders, wondering if he was part of the meeting until you spotted him bidding farewell to Fatgum, leaving the agency.

"There you are!" Yelled Fourth Kind from across the foyer, your shoulders stiffening from his harsh tone. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry," you called back. "I arrived within ten minutes just like you advised."

You shut your eyes, expecting a knock on your head by one of his many fists until you felt nothing come your way. You peeked through one of your eyes, finding Fourth Kind looking elsewhere but with a smirk on his lips.

"Well, long time no see," he spoke, catching your attention.

"I'd say the same Fourth Kind. How have you been?" Spoke the man's cheerful voice next to you.

"Doing my part, and keeping this one in line."

You felt his words referring to you, a little embarrassed and confused about the current exchange between the men until the redhead placed a strong hand on your shoulder.

"Oh they're one of yours?" He asked.

"My best and brightest, at least on patrol," replied Fourth Kind.

"Hey!" You retorted in kind.

"Come on folks, let's get this sorted," yelled Fatgum from afar, leading everyone into the meeting room for this briefing to start. "Get a move on Red Riot, you're the main focus here!"

"Gotcha, we'll be in soon!" Yelled the redhead.

Your heart immediately stopped. Did Fatgum just call this guy next to you the illustrious-

"Nice to chat with you Red Riot," commented Fourth Kind. "We'll see you inside."

"Sure thing, can I have a moment?" Requested Red Riot with a smile.

You only caught a haughty chuckle from your boss before he strode towards the meeting room, leaving you with the Pro-Hero still with his hand on your shoulder. You felt nothing but sheer and utter embarrassment at your lack of awareness. You blamed the whole day at a desk numbing your faculties, kicking yourself mentally that not only did you not recognize Suneater, but you didn't even discern the Red Riot.

"Wow, I never knew you were part of his agency," he started nonchalantly. "Guess it makes sense if you're in the First Wave instead of him now. But hey, I guess this is good news. I get to meet my partner before we set off on this mission tomorrow."

"Wait, what? Partner?" You piped, still trying to catch up to the situation.

"Yeah, I'm leading the First Wave and you're my reinforcement. It's just the two of us."

You stared at Red Riot slack-jawed, speechless from the arrangement. You were being partnered with the Red Riot, the rising Pro-Hero in Fatgum's agency only equal to the recent intake of Heroes from his academy no less. You stood there not knowing what you wanted to say. Was it a thank you, or an honorable mention? You were just a patroller if anything. Missions were somewhat a pipe dream you hoped to embark on one day, but never had you thought that would arrive tomorrow.

"Are you sure you didn't bump your head too hard back there?" He asked with concern.

"Uh, no, I mean yes, I'm okay, I'm perfectly fit and ready Red Riot. Whatever you need I've got your back," you blurted out.

Just what were you thinking?

"Please call me Kirishima out of uniform," he jested with a smile, his hand outstretched before him in greeting.

Still in shock and utter waves of nauseating embarrassment, you took his hand, feeling it engulf yours with a hearty shake. Kirishima soon led you towards the meeting room before seating yourself where your name card placed you, still next to him. It only exacerbated that self-consciousness of yours, feeling it implode with every glance of his smile, toothy or not. As the meeting proceeded, you couldn't keep your eyes off of him, finding his cheerful and serious moments both surprising and frightening. A mix of emotions ebbed and flowed; excitement, mortification, and the feeling that you may have blown your first impressions.

You thought best to get yourself out of desk job duties in the future.

#eijirou kirishima fluff #eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha au #bnha #kirishima #pro heroes #pro hero kirishima

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tiaragqueen · 4 years

Note

Can I please request a yandere shinso trying to make his darling notice him again? like, he became kinda popular ever since he got into the hero course everyone praised him, and everyone said hello and hi to him in the hallways, 'you're gonna become a great Hero shinsou!' and he became kinda bratty and slightly arrogant there, but then reader didn't like that anymore so she just avoided him ever since and he was like what the fuck y/n? why aren't you answering me or my texts anymore?! y/n: who u

Imperious

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Shinsou Hitoshi x General Ed Student! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,4k+

✂ Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, possessiveness

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“You’ve changed, you’re not the angel I once knew. No need to tell me that that we’re through. It’s all over now.” - You’ve Changed [Ella Fitzgerald]

You knew that underneath the cold shoulder you’d been giving to Shinsō lately, lied profound disappointment and dejection over his change of attitude. Your heart would wrench whenever you listened to his arrogant response towards the constant praises and support that surrounded him daily, and tears would prick your eyes whenever he attempted to strike a conversation with you.

Were you overreacting? You didn’t know. All you knew was that he’d stomped on your feelings, on your delicate trust, with his behavior.

And all of this happened without his knowledge.

Not that you’d bothered to tell him, though. It was hard to bring yourself to look at him in the eye and feign a smile. It was hard to avoid him when he always lingered in front of your classroom, waiting for an opportunity that you’d never give. It was hard to ignore his messages when he practically bombarded your phone every day.

Today wasn’t an exception, either.

[06.18 pm] Shinsō: What the fuck, [Name]?! Why do you keep ignoring my texts? First, in school and now this. Heck, you even took a roundabout route just to avoid me yesterday! What have I done to you?!

Seen.

You frowned. How did he know that you took a longer path to your home yesterday? Was he… was he stalking you? No, that was impossible. He must’ve seen you somehow, despite your painstaking efforts to elude him. Then again, if he did spotted you, why didn’t he approach you? Although you wanted to diminish any possibility of confrontation, it’d be strange if he didn’t try to at least grab the chance.

Was he simply biding his time?

[06.23 pm] You: Who the hell are you? Stop spamming my phone.

Seen.

The reply came quickly as if he’d been waiting for yours, or relieved that you finally answered his desperate questions.

[06.23 pm] Shinsō: Very funny. Your first reply and you already made a joke.

Seen.

[06.24 pm] You: I’m not joking, tho. You really should stop spamming me. I don’t know you anymore.

Seen.

[06.25 pm] Shinsō: Oh? So you move on from me now, huh? Got a new friend or something? A boyfriend, maybe? Is that why you’re so cold towards me lately?

Seen.

[06.26 pm] You: The hell are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.

Seen.

[06.27 pm] Shinsō: He can be from another school for all I know. Or maybe it’s Agoyamato. You do seem close with each other, after all.

Seen.

[06.27 pm] You: Stop it.

Seen.

[06.28 pm] Shinsō: Why? Are you scared because it’s the truth? Tell me, how long have you been dating him, huh? Since I transferred to the Hero course? Or is it longer than that?

Seen.

Scowling, you refrained from breaking your phone out of sheer exasperation. This guy thought he could ruin your evening and interrogated you as if he was a disapproving parent or boyfriend. He really had changed for the worst, and you didn’t know whether you should be enraged or calmly confronted him about it. You weren’t sure if you had the courage and patience to do the latter, though. And yet, on the other hand, a sentimental part of you yearned for that forgotten connection and wished to solve things instead. You knew you were being childish with this whole silent treatment stuff, and why the result was counterproductive then your expectations.

If only there was a way for you to sever the ties without hurting you both. But the world hadn’t been kind to you, had it? First, his accession and now, his baseless suspicions over your imaginary relationship with a classmate.

When your mother said that high school time was ‘eye-opening’, you didn’t expect it to be like this. You thought you’d deal with the arbitrary romance or schoolwork, not handling conflict with your ex-friend.

[06.30 pm] You: We are not dating.

Seen.

[06.30 pm] Shinsō: Oh, lying now, are we?

Seen.

You groaned loudly. Why was he being so goddamn difficult?! What did you have to do to convince him that you weren’t and would never date Agoyamato? What did you have to say to knock some sense into that thick skull of his?

No, wait. Why did his opinion matter, anyway? It wasn’t your job to justify things to him, and it wasn’t his job to meddle with your affairs too.

Sighing, you gently massaged your throbbing temples and proceeded to end the conversation. Hopefully, once and for all.

[06.33 pm] You: You know what? I don’t care. I don’t care if you think I’m lying or not, because I already told you the truth. I’m tired and I want to sleep. Goodbye.

Seen.

[06.34 pm] Shinsō: No, this conversation isn’t over yet. Not until I say so.

Seen.

[06.37 pm] Shinsō: [Name]?

Seen.

[06.40 pm] Shinsō: So you’re back to ignoring me again, huh? Very mature, [Name], very mature.

Seen.

[07.00 pm] Shinsō: Look. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just… scared that you found another friend already. I know it sounds silly because you’ll never ditch me like that. But the truth is… I miss you. I miss you so much, [Name], you have no idea. So, please, text me back. You don’t have to speak to me at school, but please don’t ignore me here too. I’m lonely without you. If I could, I would’ve brought you to the Hero course too.

Seen.

[07.05 pm] Shinsō: [Name]?

Seen.

[07.10 pm] Shinsō: [Name], answer me NOW. I know you don’t sleep around this hour, so stop this childish game. It’s not funny.

Seen.

[07.15 pm] Shinsō: Oh, fine! Do you want to keep ignoring me? Go ahead, but I hope you know that there’ll be consequences.

Seen.

[07.15 pm] Shinsō: I will make you notice me again.

Seen.

Frowning, you immediately shut off your phone and rolled to the other side of the bed. You ignored your mother’s call for dinner and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to dispel the last message from your mind. You refused to acknowledge the dread that crept to your chest or his tone of finality.

Nope, it was just your mind overanalyzing a simple and harmless text. There was nothing to be feared about tomorrow. Besides, what could he do to you that wouldn’t garner attention from the students anyway? That’s right, none. Because he was officially the student of Hero course, therefore, his movements would be more examined than other faculties.

He was the face of the school now, so there was nothing for you to be worried about.

That was what you tried to reassure yourself. Then again, the world hadn’t been kind to you ever since your abrupt separation with Shinsō.

It was as though you were doomed to be the bad end of the stick while he got the pleasant one.

“Wah, [Name], I didn’t know you’ve been dating Shinsō-kun!”

“Yeah, why didn’t you tell us? I thought we were friends, [Name]-chan!”

“Who confessed first? Him or you?”

“Are your feelings genuine or are you just dating him because he’s in the Hero course?”

“Man, I know this is late. But congratulation, [Last Name]-san! You’ve got yourself a keeper, you know?”

You clutched the doorframe, trying not to topple from the enthusiastic classmates that crowded you the moment your foot crossed the threshold of General Department class. What was this nonsense they were spouting on? You were dating Shinsō? Didn’t they know, or at least notice, that you no longer hung out with him and actively avoided his presence? You might not go around babbling about your problems to everyone, but you’d thought they could sense the tension that grew when Shinsō tried to confront you in front of the class a few weeks ago.

“W-what are you talking about? We’re not dating, I swear.”

“Oh, really?” A girl sneered and shoved her phone to your face. “Explain this, then.”

Bygone photos of you and Shinsō laughing and eating together burned your eyes more than the bright contrast. Your visage froze in a state of bewilderment and sullenness as she swiped the pictures rapidly and locked the device, barely giving you a chance to process with her challenging yet irritated stare. Overwhelmed with the silent questions that begged for your affirmation – not that they needed it, though, they just wanted to know if you’d be honest or deny it again – you took a step back and glanced over your shoulder.

Sensing your incidental look, Shinsō smirked and waved mockingly from his spot against the windows outside your classroom.

“Hello, girlfriend.” he mouthed.

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yaboylevi · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love ur blog, especially ur Snk Metas and Ereri metas. What are your thoughts on the whole “Eren has always been like this” (always been evil or capable of great evils like genocide) that a lot of people seem to agree on? I’ve always had a hard time believing in that idea because we’ve been shown multiple times that Eren is capable of sympathy and empathy, so to say he’s ALWAYS been like this is wrong.

Hi! Thank you!!

Looking through my snk 121 tag I found that I have already received similar questions, so I’m gonna link one here if you want the short version of it. Even if it was something I wrote up right after the chapter was out, it’s not like my opinion has changed much... more like, my faith in Isayama writing a decent conclusion and explanation in regards to Eren has plummeted in the past year and a half.

But anyway, now we have some new information pertaining Eren, so I feel like I can add more on this moment and my take on it in light of such new perspective.

Let me preface this with: Eren hates what he’s doing, is despising every second, was scared of his future visions, often paralyzed, desperate to find a better solution than this, because he knows - let me repeat it - HE KNOWS this is horrifying. We had hints throughtout the story, but many have ignored them. For me, Eren going through grief and apologizing for something he hadn’t even done yet in chapters 131 was no shocker at all, but I guess some people may have actually been surprised, I don’t know. It was right there since the Marley arc and his breakdown over Sasha, but many have completely misinterpreted that scene, denying it was desperation that he was feeling, so it was nice to finally have confirmation. Kinda.

However, you know, Isayama doesn’t seem to have picked a side on his characterization of Eren. Or maybe there is still something that’s concealed, because everything we have seen, isn’t evething that has happened, and it doesn’t explain yet some things about Eren and, relevant to this post, why Eren has decided to give up and give in to his future self’s memories of destruction. I’m sorry, but Eren believing “there is no other way, other than killing the whole world’s population, because the future cannot be changed” due to some memories is not gonna cut it, especially because we haven’t seen him fight too hard against it. In my opinion, at least. Or maybe he did, but we haven’t been shown.

The most hopeful part of my heart wishes he is already trying to change things, in a very roundabout and secret way, but the tired and logical part is done hoping. After all, Eren is alternating between being hellbent on going through with rumbling the world, and being absolutely horrified by it. I’ve been getting whiplash every month for a couple of years now.

As for your actual question, and that line during the Paths Time Travel...

Let’s start from here, shall we? That whole conversation with Zeke in Paths was to Zeke what chapter 112 was to Mikasa and Armin, imo. Chapter 121, huh, same numbers...but anyways. I think I have already wrote it somewhere, but I believe Eren lied, and purposely hurt Zeke. To make him, and Mikasa and Armin, realize something and act accordingly, maybe against Eren himself.

In Mikasa’s case, the realization was gradual since then, because Eren’s lies kickstarted it immediately. In Armin’s case, I think we still haven’t seen the full potential of it, though it may come next chapter - and I mean the “You were influenced by Bertolt, an enemy” angle. I am surprised Armin hasn’t followed this reasoning in regards to Eren, who has three titans within him, none of them particularly allied with Paradis. We left Armin seeing Bertolt, who is, in turn, watching him. I wonder if a conversation won’t happen right off the bat in chapter 136.

Anyhow, Eren, in chapter 112, also very much hit Armin and Mikasa where it hurt them the most - which is the same thing he did to Zeke here, bringing up his hate for Grisha and how it was the only think really fuelling him, and went through all the effort of making him reconcile with Grisha. Mmm, sus. Am I the only one feeling it’s sus??? I really have to wonder if he doesn’t kind of want/need Zeke to stop him, just like I believe he did with Armin and Mikasa. After all, there was no need to antagonize them and make them have reasons to stop caring for him, if he didn’t want to be stopped.

So, if it wasn’t already clear, Eren is a big liar, and he’s good at it if you don’t know him (and Zeke, Armin, and Mikasa have proven they don’t know or understand him very well at times). His acting skills have been shown all the way back in the cabin scene when he was 8 years old and tricked those traffickers.

There is another layer to these lies that I’d like to touch upon, though.

The line you were inquiring about feels exactly like his “I am free” in chapter 112. He sounds so sure, but it is a freaking lie.

See how both Armin and Mikasa are confused by such a bold, out-of-the-blue statement, the same way Zeke asks Eren “Since birth?” because, like, what is that all even about?

Eren has been feeling trapped in his own future memories to the point that his freedom of choice even existing anymore has become a big question mark. There is no freedom in following the path you were shown.

Eren’s urge to save someone from “having their freedom solen” by “physically assaulting the perpetrators first” has never, ever meant that he was willing to or okay with sacrificing innocents. Quite the opposite, in fact. There have been whole arcs about that. About Eren freaking out over people dying for him, refusing to sacrifice friends for the bigger picture, grieving for or sympathizing with innocents losing their lives or having them destroyed by some bigger threat. That has not changed.

So the big question remains: Why?

With these outrageous and confident statements about himself, I don’t think Eren is merely lying to his interlocutor to change their perception of him. I think he is lying to himself as well in the meantime. It looks like it did the trick, or not - based on how you want to interpret it. He really has been dissociating hard during his rampage.

But it all depends on what Isayama's angle is with Eren. In 112 Eren seemed to believe his “I am free” statement because he had an instant reaction to Armin challenging it. At the same time, now that we also have chapter 130-131 to enrich our reading, there is no way Eren felt free into the choices he made after hearing Willy’s declaration of war. He saw a terrifying future, he hoped against hope that it would change, but felt powerless and gutted and desperate that all pointed to such a future being unchangeable. So I do wonder if maybe he didn’t end up lying to himself - subconsciously or not - that he is free... and that he is always been this way - a cold-blooded murderer who did it all for justice.

Zoom in on Eren forlornly watching himself as a kid show pure kindess to a girl who just went through the most traumatizing experience in her life.

For the matter, I don’t believe Eren “has always been this way”. I actually don’t believe he’s ever been that way. I don’t know why many(?) people just accept whatever Eren says at face value, ignoring all context surronding it.

As I posted very recently, it doesn’t make sense for Eren to go from one extreme to the other without a better excuse, or explanation, or a more believable writing of it...or a plot twist that I guess I will wait for for another 4 months:

Eren came to realize that outside the walls people are just...well, people. There are good ones everywhere, people who suffered just like him, people who deserve better, certainly don’t deserve to be caught up in the Rumbling, people who have lives, children, moms, loved ones. This is highlighted again in chapter 131, because maybe, when Eren brought it up in the basement with Falco and Reiner, people didn’t think he was being genuine. So Isayama shows us again that Eren truly believed that.

And yet, the chapter before, Eren put those very same people on the same level of Titans when he used to think Titans were scum, a nightmare sent to eat them alive, because he addressed them with “匹”, a derogatory counter when applied to people, because it is usually used for small animals.

The parallel to how he used to feel towards Titans is smacked in our faces, because in Japanese, it’s the same exact line. He now feels that way about people.

...What?

It doesn’t make sense, right?

Because really, the same way Eren’s first impulse in Marley was to save Ramzi when he was being beaten up (and threatened with a worse fate than some bruises), the same way Eren helped him regardless and again went against 3 full-grown men, it’s the same way Eren rushed to Mikasa’s rescue when he didn’t even know her... or the same way he pushed himself into a Titan’s mouth just to save Armin. it doesn’t come from a sentiment of “I need to punish these monsters because they are threatening me”. It comes from a natural, intrinsic need to help and save others. It is deeply saddening that at the end of this journey, with Ramzi, he just feels like this natural predisposition of his is just a fake and turns him into a hypocrite.

So for Eren to say he has always been that way while looking at his 8 years old self stabbing a human trafficker in the chest to save a little girl to try and explain why he’s killing innocent people who happens to be living alongside “the bad guys” is a false equivalence. Either it’s a lie Eren tells himself and to Zeke to make both of them believe this is what Eren is, and has always been, and there is nothing they could do to prevent it - in a sort of twisted liberation from guilt because “if I was always like this, then you and I both shouldn’t have expected anything different”...

...or it’s Isayama’s failed attempt at presenting a theoretical concept he liked and talked about in interviews, suddenly turning Eren into a poster boy for it and canceling previous sides of Eren’s complexity as a character. I would like to believe Isayama hasn’t lost his magic touch this badly, but every day I’m less sure of it.

My opinion, for what is worth, is that that line you quoted is something he said to trick Zeke into detaching himself from Eren and going against him - breaking the bonds of love all around him has been a very deliberate choice Eren has made post time-skip - and at the same time it’s something Eren is trying to believe himself, in a desperate attempt at explaining to his own conscience that he was destined to bring such destruction, that he was always capable of it, and that there is a sort of justice in it where there isn’t. And he knows, deep down. That’s why he dissociates in the end.

In a very twisted, self-deprecating way, Eren is a liar to everyone, himself included. He has become an unreliable narrator about himself. Eren has completely shut down because he cannot stand what he is doing.

And I would very much like to know why he gave up on trying to find a different solution, if that’s what it is that happened, and why he sounds like a different person every other scene he appears in, in the next 4 months.

#eren yeager #snk spoilers #snk meta #shingeki asks

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hanawrites404 · 3 years

Text

Wynne's Diary - Journey With Asra

(@sweetalnazar HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART)

"Gosh.......how long is it?" I groaned and threw my hands hysterically.

"Just a few miles more, Honey. We are almost there" The whitehead held the map of the city in front of him and steered the paper around to find the right direction of the path. We were touring, since today was the day Asra wasn't being too cautious about my health and neither did I need to dispute against him for not ever bringing me to one of his journeys. But who told me that it was going to be this boring and exhausting?!!

We were walking during midnight on the lonely streets of a hamlet far away from Vesuvia for leisure. We were supposed to reach before evening, but due to some extreme weather, we had to stay back. It was only after five hours the sandstorm had settled down, but when we did reach our destination without any further problems, here we were irrationally strolling just anywhere, Asra being the slowest and worst navigator ever.

"Ugh, are you sure your broken compass is working?" I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms.

"Hey, it's not broken. It's just taking its time. Be patient, will you?" He blew onto the compass to remove the dust and shook it for the needle to gain some movement. He then kept it flat on his palm, but just as I already expected, it didn't work. The pointer fell back dead as before.

"bE pAtIeNt WiLl YoU?" I repeated after him. Asra sighed and kept the compass back into his pocket. He focused on the map instead, trying to find out which road we were on and where would the next milestone be. It had only been twenty-five minutes of us walking from the inn, but because of his sluggish navigation skills, we were sure lagging.

"Ugggh why don't you give me the map instead?" I suggested him.

"Wynne, you have never been in this town before. And the map has branched roads and connected at different spots, which makes it difficult to search for the right route. Give me some time to figure out" he dismissed me. But I didn't take it well as I scoffed and snatched the map from his hands.

"Was twenty-five minutes not enough for you???" I angrily stated with a pout on my lips.

"U-Uhhh....." Asra stammered. He didn't have anything to assert against me, so he just looked down and rubbed his neck. I didn't want to shame him, but damn I loathed his obstinacy and wanted him to just shut up and listen to me for once.

I sighed again and took a look at the map myself. I glanced at the entrance and remembered every turn we took to conform with the illustrations on the map. I noticed the pattern, thanks to the landmarks and me paying attention to the pathways unlike one stupid guy and dragged Asra by his sleeve to show him what I found.

"You see this here?" I pointed at the entry gates. "This is how we came in, after some kilometres, we reached the inn and from here, we went straight down and turned to our left, then we continued on that line at that's when we took a right, walked over that, and again right, and through the roundabout, we made our way to the left, then straight, again straight, and finally, to the right.

So according to me, we should be at least five miles away from the rocky beaches. Also, there must be a brothel somewhere like......" I looked up from the map and scanned around.

"no....no...no........no.....Ah! There" I pointed to our northwest where a grey and tall construction made its place at the corner.

"Oh! I....I never noticed that before" Asra rubbed the back of his head.

"Of course you didn't. If only you had brains like me, we wouldn't have been wandering around in the middle of the night looking like passive thieves!" I pouted again and flicked his forehead, earning a short yelp from him.

I adjusted the scarf around my head and closed the map. I We had figured out the whole passage so I we didn't need it anymore. I handed the map back to Asra and stretched my body for a bit. Seriously, walking continuously for twenty-five minutes may sound like a short interval, but you try it once, you will start feeling like weeping in the middle, especially when you realise that you don't know where you are going and how you are going to make your way back.

And people say that the journey is more beautiful than the destination. Heh, fucking bullshit. Let me hear someone say this when they almost died in the way and I'll fucking slap the morals out of them. I dare you.

"Now then, let's continue on our journey, shall we, My Beloved?" I swear I wasn't being sarcastic. Trust me.

"O-Of course. Sorry for earlier" he apologized timidly. I scowled at him for a moment but let it slip away. It was useless getting furious over him anyway.

"It's alright, at least we know our way now and we aren't lost. That would have been a waste" I snorted and carried forward on our steps, Asra following me shortly.

"Heh...I can't believe our time was saved by an unknown brothel" I kidded.

"Yeah... funny indeed" Asra snickered. I nudged him with my elbow playfully as we walked beside each other, my resentment finally melting away and being replaced with solace and comfort, with him and the starry night.

"So this is how you travel all the time? With no sense of direction and a broken compass??" I mockingly asked him.

"Well, not always. Sometimes I do get lost, not going to lie. But Faust helps me find my track back. Too bad she is not here with me since she wanted to stay back with Ichigo at the inn" I stuffed his hands into his pockets, his bright coat and the black hat he always wears during treks lightly fluttering in the subtle wind.

"And I know this local city well, yet I have no idea why my mind went blank so badly today. I'm sorry for the inconveniences I caused you, Wynne. I wanted you to show you the wonderful places this town has, but I only ended up making it worse for both of us" He held his forehead in his hand, his fingers mushing against his hair.

"Hey" I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "This is not your fault, you have been travelling for hours barely with any rest. I can understand why you suddenly couldn't think of the path. Your mind must have gotten tired too, and there is no one to blame for that. And so, you shouldn't blame yourself too" I comforted him.

"But, I did waste your time. I know how particular you are about time, yet I consumed everything of yours so mindlessly" he shook his head again.

"Oh well, you are right on that" I truthfully agreed. Asra shot his eyes onto me. His expression of disbelief and bafflement.

I raised my eyebrow. "What? You thought I was going to say, no you didn't consume any of my time and then hug you tight and strangle you with kisses? Really, Alnazar??" I cocked. Asra's cheeks flared with ruddy as he looked down at his feet again. My smirk got wider, and I heckled him again.

"Ahhh so you were looking forward to it huh, Asra?? You naughty, wicked boy" I pinched his bronze cheek and laughed. He didn't reply to me and continued shying away and trying to escape from my tease. Looks like I embarrassed him this time. And I don't admit guilt of it as always. It was fun bantering him. But I think I have had too much fun because he was feeling awful, and I cannot just ridicule him anymore. That might just be plain rude, and I didn't want to be an asshole to my only husband.

"Fine, listen to me" I began. "Yes, I agree you did 'consume' my time" I specifically added quotations marks.

"But, you didn't waste it. That's absurd! You would do anything with my time than fritter it. Because.....every minute I spend with you is like magic. I get to learn more, experience more with you. And I discover my interests with you, Dear. You have never wasted my time. And neither did I ever said that to you, but you always assume wrong things and make me worry along with you" I raised my shoulders.

Asra stopped in his tracks, making me imitate him and stop walking too. He turned to face me again, his tanzanite orbs connecting with my golden ones. I peered closely into them, only to find myself in there. There was nothing else in him and that was very odd. Because usually his eyes were the real door to his true emotions and feelings, deeply hidden in like a prize of a maze, so I always stare into them when I want to know what he truly conceals into his deep irises, and I never cared how much time would it need to find them all because it was always worth it.

But.....I saw nothing in them. Just me. Me and my stupid face. Now, why would his eyes show me myself? What did he want to convey?? Was he feeling.....me?? Was he hiding.....me??? Was he............

Looking inside me????

I really had no clue. Asra though being more hospitable and extroverted than I was, always was the one to be more mysterious and secretive than the two of us. Maybe because he had more enigmas than I had?? I guess so. Or maybe he wants to wait for revealing them the right time comes for both of us. But because of never finding such a chance, he ends up being solitary though he never intended to be one.

But who knows. If Asra doesn't open up to me, I would be both courteous and disappointed with his boundaries. Complicated right? But that's how I am. A nasty unsatisfied bitch.

"Look" I held his cheek and stroked him. "If you don't believe me, that's fine. But remember one thing, Alnazar. You are my husband. We are bound together, and I'll never break apart from you, you hear that? And you have never, ever, let my time to waste. Because you are too sweet and cherishing for that, Asra. I adore you, and I'm willing to spend my whole life with you. And I had decided to since the day I yelled at you in the Lazaret for sacrificing your heart"

I sighed bitterly. That Lazaret occurrence had to be one of our bitterest times because we both impaired each other without acknowledging how we both felt at that time. But to be very honest, I never want to forget this. Because I want to remember how we were before and how far we have reached now. And I think that's plausible, and I guess Asra would approve with me on this.

"But back to the topic, you will never be a waste of time, My Love, Never. Mark my words, all this time I have spent roaming around with you and following that cursed compass which never helped had to be one of the stories I would remember and laugh about it every time. And you know why I would laugh at it? Because you were being nuts of course. But also because you were in it" I gently jabbed his nose.

"Every moment with you is like my treasure, Asra. And I don't want to lose it. I want to be greedy about it, and never let you get out of my sight. And I'll stick with you no matter what happens, and whether you like it or not" I tittered.

"I......" He opened his mouth.

"Yes, sweetie?" I tilted my head and innocently yet lovingly peeped at him.

But he ignored me again. He just pulled me closer, grabbed my waist to lift me to his height, and smashed his lips onto mine.

"Mmm!!" My voice became faint and my cloak dropped from my head, but I didn't protest against him and kissed back. My arms snaking around his shoulders and embracing his warm body closer. I was looming over him, and my hands slithered from his shoulders to his cheek, my lips working and pulling onto him.

Asra was a tremendous kisser, by the way. And how do I know? And is that even a question?

Both of our faces were red hot as we pulled back, my lips quivered from incitation and we both were panting away.

"I believe you...." He answered me and roughly kissed me for one last time. I moaned against his lips, wallowing in the pleasure I received from him, my hands curling around his hair and tugging it gently. He then pulled away and hugged me back as he breathed against my neck.

I exhaled with him, enjoying his sweet lips on me. But then I gently patted his shoulder to get his attention.

"hmm?" He replied.

"Hey....take me to the beaches....we came this far now" I told him.

"Ah....sure, Milady. Let's not keep you waiting" he sneered at me, but I was worried, to be honest.

Because I knew very well that it was a sneer of mischief he had on him.

I expected him to keep me down on my feet, but he abruptly let go of my waist and swung me up into his arms to hold me and carry me to the beach like a bride.

"You scared the fucking shit out of me there!" I caught my gust on time. The way I cried out as he took hold of me was the moment I want to shirk so badly. Meanwhile this white fucker was laughing away to glory at me! How fucking dare he?! Ugh I hate him when he does that!

"Tit for tit, sweetheart. I didn't forget the way you pinched my cheek" he winked. Blush swelled around my cheeks and I hid my face in his chest, Asra lightly giggling and resting a small peck on my head.

"Whatever" I muffled.

"Sure, suit yourself" he shrugged.

"Now let's show you the rock beaches" and there he was, holding his beloved wife close to him, never letting her go, never letting her feel alone. Because he was always there for her, and he valued every second with her like golden coins.

And they say, journey is more beautiful than the destination.

Heh, I guess they were right. But to me, both the journey and destination were marvellous when he was around.

And damn, I deserve a fucking slap for disagreeing with such a truth. Honestly.

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #wynne toprak #arcana apprentice #arcana mc #arcana oc #asra alnazar #asra the magician #the arcana asra #asra x mc #asra x oc #asraweek2021

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056crowshit6556 · 4 years

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“Go. Just take him.” The cycle of Revenge in The Last of Us Part II

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE LAST OF US PART 2

Spoilers + screenshots under the readmore!

Some thoughts on The Last of Us Part II

The Last of Us Part II threw me for a loop in subtle, nuanced, deep, and impactful ways. It was a story of loss and hate, resentment and grief, and the major theme: The Cycle of Revenge.

These themes all come together in the last fight between Abby and Ellie– which, before I delve into some kind of analysis, made me cry. It was honest in its delivery, resonant in its pain. It seemed Ellie wasn’t just fighting Abby, but herself in a sense. And because we had played a big part of the game as Abby, I felt a hesitance to fight Abby to the death. It doesn’t feel victorious-- plainly put, it felt “bad” to fight Abby, and in another sense, it felt futile.

I have a soft spot for storytelling, and there’s always been something about The Last of Us which touched me, probably because it focuses on the complicated nature of what’s morally right or wrong. At the game’s beginning, I wasn’t completely sold on Abby’s storyline. I could tell that Naughty Dog was trying to show a neutral grey area, that there’s no black and white, no true heroes and villains. I think alot of stories are going with this direction now, some poorly (i.e. a villain gets an underserved or forced redemption arc), but The Last of Us Part II treated its characters less like heroes and villains and more like human beings who are capable of good and evil, capable of bravery, selflessness, indoctrination, and antagonism.

The list could go on. The world of The Last of Us strives to mirror our own world to the best of its ability. It asks “what could go wrong in a post-apocalyptic world”, then in the same breath, “but what is beautiful and meaningful in such a world too?”

As the story progressed, I saw parallels between Ellie, Abby, and Joel. I saw the message as ‘destruction in revenge’; but also, by having two protagonists, one of which I should have been led to despise, I came to see each person as a “main character” of their own story, as we are main characters of our own lives, or stories, due to the limits of our perception. Abby’s world is different from Ellie’s, but there’s overlap, enough to see them as a reflection of each other. And as I’ll delve into, their story arcs follow similar paths, as they’ve both experienced loss which left them incapacitated, except... Abby’s story is about redemption, while Ellie’s is about hate and revenge.

This final fight, the scene near the end of the game, struck me for a number of reasons.

The location of the fight has significance, as the ocean represents our subconscious, and the fog represents disillusionment and confusion. Ellie had buried memories of Joel, both good and bad, into her subconscious. That was her way of dealing with the pain. She buried the pain “underwater” so to speak, into an underwater oceanic subconscious.

In that scene, she is surrounded by an “ocean of grief.”

It resurfaces to Ellie in dreams throughout the game. PTSD flashes of memory too.

Ellie went after Abby a second time, and engaged in a fight with her. Abby, starving and weak, could hardly fight back. At the last moment with Abby’s head underwater, as she was drowning, Ellie sees an image of Joel– happy, safe, alive.

And she falters, she releases Abby.

Ellie continued to seek vengeance, an outward action, rather than experience grief, which is an inward action. Revenge as the distraction. Grief as the unbelievably long, lonely process. Revenge may have been satisfying, but if Abby had been killed, what would happen next? Ellie would be sitting in the ocean, still wrought with grief, still unable to essentially face Joel’s memory (whether it’s the terrible memory of his death, or the good memories, or the memories where she pushed him away because of resentment).

When Ellie says to Abby, “Go. Just take him,” she’s talking about Abby taking Lev and making their getaway, but to me… it was the overarching summation, the metaphorical line that delved into the point of the entire story.

When Ellie says, “Go. Just take him”, she’s also talking about Joel.

The vast ocean in front of her represents the subconscious, the unknown, and death. Ellie is sitting in the water, facing the unknown, and inwardly, the grief she feels over losing Joel. When she releases Abby, she is releasing her desire for vengeance. It is a singular point in the story. Revenge is a goal, a mission– it’s what drove the story, especially from Ellie’s point of view. But… revenge is not really a process, it’s a cycle. Because as the story showed, one act of vengeance turns into another act, and then another. It is the serpent biting its own tail.

Abby’s cycle of revenge halted because of Lev.

Abby’s responsibility was altered by the presence of Lev. Lev tells Abby to stop just before Abby is about to kill Dina.

The music at this part slows from an adrenaline-fueled heartbeat. The hate and the rage lessen. Quiet takes over. The presence of Lev is what stopped her. This new-found purpose halts the cycle of revenge on Abby’s part. She is done.

Abby found new purpose and direction in her life because of Lev. Abby’s relationship with Lev is very similar to Joel’s relationship with Ellie in the first game. Joel found new purpose and meaning in his life with the arrival of Ellie. They even look similar to Joel and Ellie, I believe, in how Abby is clearly Lev’s protector, as Joel was Ellie’s protector in the first game:

(Even the colors of their clothes resemble Ellie and Joel in the first game).

By the game��s end, Abby has found new purpose in her life just as Joel found new purpose in his through Ellie. As Joel said in the first game,

“I struggled for a long time with surviving. And you– No matter what, you keep finding something to fight for.”

Earlier, Abby and Owen are speaking outside the surgery room. Abby says that Yara and Lev are just kids, then she asks:

Abby found the light in Lev, a Seraphite, or “Scar”– she found the light in someone who would otherwise be her enemy.

Abby has a recurring dream, in which she’s walking down the hospital corridor towards the surgery room where her father was killed. It is her place of fear, her nightmare, and over and over it haunts her, replaying her pain and trauma.

After saving Yara and Lev, the dream changes. Her father is alive and smiling, almost as if this is his way of saying goodbye to her.

That is what’s crucial here– After Abby kills Joel and satiates her need for revenge, she still has the nightmare of her father’s death. Revenge did not reconcile her pain, it did not stop the nightmare– in fact, it only created guilt.

In the boat scene, Owen explains why he killed Danny. He describes how there was a Scar at a camp, and he was going to kill him. He describes how he hit the man on the head, hard, but he just laid there. He didn’t go for his weapon. He was an old man who was tired and ready.

And something about that weakness, that human vulnerability, breaks Owen, and he can’t kill this old man. The cycle of revenge exhausts itself.

This story directly parallels Joel’s– he was an old man who was tired and ready.

In this same scene, Owen shames Abby for going after Joel. Mel does the same in a later scene, telling Abby that she’s a bad person. Abby’s group struggled with the action they took on Joel. Abby does too. Her reaction to Owen and Mel shaming her shows she feels guilt over what she did.

That guilt is reconciled with the arrival of Yara and Lev; particularly Lev, who becomes Abby’s responsibility later in the story.

By the same token, Ellie had that option with Dina and the baby. She could have shifted her direction in life towards her new family, but she chose not to– instead, she went after Abby a second time. It could be because she was overwhelmed by grief, or because her trauma felt unbearable. Maybe she was obsessed with the idea that revenge would alleviate the pain. Or maybe, she felt responsible for Joel’s death.

Ellie continued to move her life in the direction of vengeance, when really she needed to confront her own grief of losing him. And that takes time. That takes confrontation. The stagnation of “doing nothing” is not in Ellie’s character (for instance, Dina loses Jesse because Abby killed Jesse, but she does not seek revenge. She refocuses her life on her baby).

To contrast, Dina’s responsibility in life is to her child; Ellie’s responsibility in life is not necessarily to get revenge but to atone for her resentment towards Joel.

Ellie attempts to drown Abby as though it will bury the memories of Joel even more, but they surface regardless, one small droplet memory of Joel sitting on the porch with a guitar, and she can’t do it. She can’t continue the cycle of revenge.

After the final fight, Ellie looks out into the ocean, but there is no horizon. The fog covers it. There is no point, no “point on the horizon.” There is no point in continuing the cycle of revenge. As the poet John Ford wrote, “Revenge proves its own executioner.” Ellie was destroying herself as much as she was destroying her enemies.

I think... the reason Ellie had such difficulties dealing with her grief was because she felt responsible for Joel’s death in a roundabout way-- if she had died on the operating table, Joel would have never been a target, if she had never been immune, she would have turned when she was bitten-- and because she felt guilt, because she couldn’t accept their last conversation.

Which was so beautiful in its simplicity. Neither Ellie or Joel knew this would be their last conversation, and so there’s a sense of mundanity about it. It’s crucial but at the same time, not (because we as the players know this is their last conversation).

Ellie says she will consider forgiving him. The animosity Ellie felt towards Joel was not entirely resolved. And besides that, she had been giving him the silent treatment for over a year before that. She lost time with him because she held a grudge; the grudge is another reason she feels guilty. (Not saying Ellie’s grudge isn’t warranted. That’s what makes the situation so complicated and nuanced. She had a right to be mad because she wanted the vaccine, she was willing to sacrifice her life for it. So we see the difficulty she has in accepting Joel’s decision). Which spurred her on in her quest for revenge, while pushing aside the grief she felt.

There is not point in continuing the cycle of revenge. Grief… it doesn’t necessarily have a “point” either, I don’t think. Like the ocean, it comes in waves. It soaks the body. It ebbs and flows, but it will lessen with time. As with Abby, who found a purpose in life by protecting Lev, Ellie has the option of finding a purpose in her life too– not the one she initially wanted, in which she sacrificed herself for a cure, but maybe one built with the same kind of love Joel felt for her.

But the process of grief means Ellie has to essentially, at one point, say to Death or the Unknown, Okay. You can take him. When she releases Joel, she is releasing so, so much more than what she would have gained from killing Abby.

At the game’s beginning, when Joel was dying, he looked at Ellie, and he smiled. There was something in his eyes that said he was glad, for everything, the pain, the struggle, the heartbreak, because in the end he’s looking at Ellie, and in the last crucial moment it’s as if he thinks, ‘It was worth it, for you’.

He knew the consequences of his actions when he stopped the Fireflies, when he stopped the cure from ever being made, and when he took Ellie from that hospital. He knew there was a risk involved, but at the game’s ending, during the flashback scene, he says, “If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment… I would do it all over again.”

(*Brief note: Interestingly enough, Abby is not explicitly seeking revenge on Joel because he prevented the cure from being made... she’s seeking revenge because he killed her father. It shows that in the grand scheme of things, what matters is the close relationships we form with others... that if Ellie had been the cure she would have been remembered as an almost “deified” concept, but Joel would have returned to the hopelessness of his own life. Abby didn’t enact revenge for humanity’s sake, she did it for her father. This ties in nicely with the ongoing war between the WLF and the Seraphites, and how each faction is a faceless mob until individuals like Yara and Lev meet Abby, or Owen has his emotional experience with the old man who was too tired to fight. Owen says he’s tired of fighting for land he doesn’t give a fuck about. It begs the question of what’s important in life... like the memories of Joel and Ellie exploring museums or Tommy and Ellie sharpshooting. It was the small, seemingly insignificant moments which mattered most, the moments Ellie remembered).

Joel died without regret. He died knowing that Ellie would be willing to forgive him. And even though their time of peace was brief, he died happy for the small moments they got to spend together, that for all the pain and suffering, in the end, it was worth it.

Ellie is angry at him because she believes her life would have mattered if she sacrificed herself for a vaccine. That there was a point to all the loss, for her best friend Riley’s death, for the numerous other deaths she witnessed in The Last of Us. When Joel took her from the hospital, it was selfish, but that’s because her life does matter, to him. Beyond being a cure, beyond being a martyr, Ellie as a human being matters to him. Yes, she would have been remembered as “the cure”, but only Joel would have remembered her as an actual human being: a person with habits, quirks, unique traits, vices and virtues.

He would do it again knowing how much she would resent him for it. I don’t know how else to describe that. I think it goes along the notion that, you don’t truly understand what it means to love someone more than anything, more than yourself, until you’ve had a child. With loss comes grief, then hope. Joel lost his daughter Sarah and suffered for years, but Ellie gave him hope. Abby lost her father, but found hope in Lev.

Ellie lost Joel, but what kind of hope returned to her at the story’s end?

When she returns to her home, Dina and the baby are gone. The house is empty, and all of Ellie’s belongings have been put into a single room. She goes there, and picks up the guitar Joel gave her.

Ellie lost two of her fingers, and now she’s unable to throughly play the guitar. The notes are disjointed, the melody is cracked. That is how Ellie is now. I’m not saying she’s a miserable broken wreck now– I’m saying she’s rough around the edges, she has a noticeable aura of fragmentation about her. Even if the grief lessens with time, she will be hardened by this pain. What she’s experienced has changed her and it’s a weight she’ll have to carry for the rest of her life. As the title suggest, she is the “last of us” regarding our journey throughout the game-- every emotion, every violent action, every loss and heartache-- Ellie is the bearer of it.

She places the guitar against the windowsill and leaves.

And you see that shot through the open window, Ellie leaving the house in the background, the guitar leaning against the windowsill in the foreground. I see that and I know, in one year the vines and weeds will start to take over the house like they do in all the abandoned houses. In two years the strings will rust and snap. In ten the guitar will become part of nature. Nature will come in through the window, and it will wrap itself around the guitar. The wood will crack and eventually it will disintegrate from the rain and wind.

The reason I think there’s an emblem of a moth on the guitar is because moths have very short lifespans (in their adult stage, they typically only live about one week). Because of the brevity of their life, and because they are night creatures, they are considered messengers of the unknown, or the “beyond.” Something not quite of this world, symbols of magic. But I think the more important part of the moth on the guitar is to show how brief Joel and Ellie’s time together was; how the lives of the characters in The Last of Us are often cut short, often without warning. In an even broader sense, life is brief, and time’s a thief, as the saying goes. The guitar in the last frame of the story was played for only a few years, and then, it has been left to the hands of time.

It’s here that we don’t really know what happens to Ellie: does she go in search of Dina? Does she go back to Jackson? Does she begin somewhere else, or will she live on her own for the rest of her days?

The uncertainty of her life from this point on leaves a bittersweet touch to the story. People move on, people leave. What is an old guitar weathered by the seasons, lost to time, was once a beautiful song shared between two people.

Joel, in saving her life, essentially gave her a chance at life. The rest is up to her.

#the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part II #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 #joel miller #ellie williams #my posts

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bgn846 · 3 years

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If Only It Were That Simple

Summary: Ignis and Gladio go on a diplomatic trip together in place of Noct. They are alone and having to make do with what little amenities are available. Que some angst and a few misunderstandings, what else could happen?

---

Unable to understand why Gladio still had a smile plastered on his face; Ignis tried his best to not scream out loud. First, they’d been drenched while waiting at the train station for a ride. Then, the car that had come to get them, suffered a flat tire. Gladio had of course offered to help the lone driver in switching to the spare, which meant Ignis felt the need to get out and help as well.

So, here they were, ninety minutes later, standing in what was most likely the town hall, waiting to meet with the man in charge. This was supposed to be a diplomatic mission to strengthen ties with an outlining village north of Insomnia. The nifs hadn’t made it out that far, so the place was left relatively untouched. Ignis suspected it was left alone simply due to the fact that it was so difficult to get to! Protected by mountains and only accessible via one poorly maintained road, this village was the epitome of off the beaten path.

Working to suppress his shivers Ignis tried not to pace the small space as they waited to be seen. The driver had shown them into the cramped space and promptly disappeared. Most likely to go find whoever was supposed to greet them.

Breathing deeply through his nose, Ignis attempted to calm his nerves. They’d been chosen to come out here on Noct’s behalf. The prince’s royal advisor and shield held some clout in certain places. It made sense why Regis had been reluctant to send Noct. They were in the middle of nowhere. Any visit from the crown was good, whether or not it featured an actual royal. Ignis was proud to serve his friend and prince in any way.

Despite this sentiment, he was struggling with his emotions. He should feel special that the king trusted him enough to handle this mission. However, as the rain continued to pour down outside with no other signs of life appearing, Ignis was beginning to wonder if they were being laughed at back in Insomnia. He could almost hear Regis and Clarus debating how they’d handle the trip ‘let’s send the two youngins’ out into the field and see how they do’. His daydream of their current nightmare ended soon enough, he had other things to worry about.

When he’d first been debriefed for the mission, it had sounded like the perfect escape, a far-away place, no prince to take care of, and pure unadulterated alone time with Gladio. Now, as he fought to keep his composure, he wasn’t so sure. The part of his brain that handled his ever-growing crush on his friend, and fellow crownsguard, wasn’t being very helpful either. Having to constantly tramp down on the barrage of ‘you’re finally alone with Gladio’ thoughts was a challenge. He was on a diplomatic trip, not in some romantic fueled fantasy land.

“I see why they didn’t want to send Noct,” Gladio offered quietly as they waited. “It’s a little rough n’ tumble out here.”

“Yes, well, I don’t see why they had to send us instead,” Ignis hissed under his breath, his self-doubt kicking in.

“Aw come on Iggy, it’s an adventure. No boring council meetings or pampering a grumpy princess for the next week. Relax and have some fun.”

Ignis tried desperately to cling to those words of encouragement. He managed to survive the introductory meeting with Bhanis, the man in charge. They sat in soaked clothing for nearly thirty minutes as Bhanis talked and talked. The guy either didn’t care that they were clearly uncomfortable or hadn’t noticed. Ignis was leaning on the side of hadn’t noticed, since Bhanis’ own appearance indicated that he’d also gotten soaked through with the rain. Perhaps it was a normal occurrence in this place. Sitting around and having meetings in damp clothing.

Though, Ignis’ patience was wearing dangerously thin as the leader of the small village showed them to their rooms. Or rather a room. Turns out when you call someone by their official title and fail to add more detail, misunderstandings can happen.

Staring at the lone bed in the space Ignis tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t come off as being rude. Thinking fast he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Is the other room nearby? I’d like to have a debriefing meeting with my collogue before dinner.”

Bhanis furrowed his brow and frowned. “This is the only room, we only have one.”

Did that mean they’d only prepared one room and they had others, or this was literally the only guest room in the whole village? “I see; might there be another room available with two beds?” Ignis tried hoping he wasn’t sounding too dense. The man had just said it was their only room.

“No, sorry, we only have this space to house our guests. Your communication only mentioned one person coming so we thought it would be alright. I think it had noted an advisor and a shield.” Bhanis paused and looked over to their bags. “Though, that’s an awfully small shield if you’ve fit it in your pack.”

Realization dawned on Ignis. They’d thought he was talking about a thing, not a person. Vowing to go back and reread his letters to Bhanis, Ignis was sure he’d clearly mentioned two people. “No problem, we will make due,” he replied with a forced smile.

“Good, good, we’re all very excited to have someone from the crown visit. Not many people make it out this way.” Bhanis announced with a grin. “Rest until dinner if you’d like, I’ll send someone to fetch you when it’s ready.”

The moment the door closed Ignis began apologizing, “I’m so sorry this has happened, I didn’t think they’d misread what I’d sent over. I can sle--.”

“Iggy, calm down, I’m not complaining,” Gladio interjected. “This is fun, it’s a new place with new things to learn.”

Groaning by way of an answer, Ignis threw himself into a nearby chair and sulked. This was his first mission away from Insomnia and he’d already screwed it up. He was only nineteen and still working hard to earn the respect of those at the citadel. Did it matter that he’d been personally chosen by the king to stand by Noct? Not to everyone else it seemed. Lost in his own mental battle, Ignis missed Gladio walking over.

“Hey Iggy, you should take a hot shower and change, hanging out in these damp clothes for too long isn’t good.”

“Hrm, oh yes, quite right. Where’s my bag?” he asked looking around in a daze.

Gladio motioned with this thumb where the bags were but didn’t step away, “You okay? You seem a little frazzled.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” he lied.

“Hey, I’m not one of the council members, you don’t have to lie to me,” Gladio replied with a reproachful tone.

“Apologies Gladio, I’m merely lost in my own thoughts, do forgive me.”

“Go, hop in the shower, I’ll see what’s on tv, and then maybe we can relax a little before dinner.”

Taking the opportunity to be alone, Ignis quickly got up and rushed into the bathroom. Praying for hot water Ignis turned the taps on and began getting ready. He needed to get a grip. Worrying about what everyone else thought wasn’t going to help. Ignis needed to have a successful trip and not act like a total idiot in front of Gladio. How hard could that be?

Ignis discovered that not acting like an idiot was in fact, very hard. Ten minutes later as he stood with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist, he realized his mistake. The bag with his clothes was still in the room. Why did the Eos hate him today? Before he could fret any longer a knock sounded at the door.

“Hey, you forgot your bag, do you want it now?” Gladio asked.

“Yes, please, and thank you.” If his voice cracked, Gladio didn’t comment. Soon the door opened and his bag was handed off. Ignis could feel his face burning from the embarrassment of it all. Thankfully, he stayed hidden behind the door and promptly snapped it shut when Gladio’s arm was clear.

What more would he have to endure before the night was over? Then, in a flash, Ignis remembered what his brain had so craftily pushed aside earlier. There was only one bed; they were going to have to share. Normally this wouldn’t have been an issue, they’d gone camping together before and shared a tent, but this was different. The camping trips had been a long time ago when they were younger before Ignis had developed his crush.

He was already feeling bad about the room mix up, the last thing he wanted to do was add to the misery by making things awkward between them. Nothing screams this is completely casual like accidentally dry humping your best friend in the middle of the night. Unsure of how to handle the situation, Ignis got dressed and put on his best ‘I’m totally fine’ face, and left the bathroom.

Surviving dinner was his first real challenge of the night. He’d weathered the aforementioned tv watching by sitting in the lone guest chair, while Gladio lounged on the bed. This place really was devoid of any luxury items, it was no wonder since they didn’t have many visitors.

Hoping that Gladio wouldn’t notice his odd mood, Ignis forged ahead and continued on with his normal duties. They were here on a diplomatic mission after all. He had to get something right before they left this six-forsaken place.

Roundabout what would have been the dessert course in a fancy meal, Gladio began to worry about Ignis. His friend was acting very odd and almost giving him the cold shoulder. He could understand if Ignis was focused on making sure he paid attention to Bhanis and the few others in attendance. That still didn’t explain why he wouldn’t make eye contact with him.

Thinking back to when they started on their journey that morning, Gladio wondered if he’d done anything to upset Ignis. Resigned to waiting until later, after they’d retired for the night, Gladio forced a smile and kept quiet. He could at least let Ignis do his job without interruption.

Thankfully, their hosts assumed they were both tired from the long day of travel and ended dinner with little fanfare. Though, Gladio wasn’t sure he was looking forward to sharing the room with Ignis anymore. The advisor held his stone-faced expression the entire walk back to their room. The rain had stopped finally, but it had turned the village into a veritable mud pile.

Sighing heavily he trudged after Ignis; whose’s shoulders were squared, in a very unfriendly gesture. It was almost as if he was going to his own death sentence. The sooner Gladio climbed into bed and fell asleep the better.

Going for the bathroom first, he got ready for bed and decided to ignore Ignis. If his friend was bothered by something, then he better damn well tell him because Gladio had no clue what he’d done wrong. Looking only at the bed when he exited the bathroom, Gladio quickly got in under the covers and rolled on his side to face the wall. He’d left enough space for Ignis, there wasn’t much more to do.

He heard Ignis clear his throat once but didn’t bother to acknowledge it. If he had something to say to him it could wait until the morning. This was bullshit. This trip was supposed to be fun, not whatever this had turned into.

“I’m going to sleep on the floor, to keep from --.”

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care,” Gladio grumbled before he could stop himself. He was upset and not in the mood to hide his emotions.

“Oh,” was all Ignis weakly managed.

Tuning out the small noises Ignis made as he got ready, Gladio tried to force himself to fall asleep. He wanted to go home and forget this whole stupid trip had ever happened. Time drug on after that, his mind refusing to calm and give him peace. Every little breath or sigh from Ignis felt amplified in the tiny room. Gladio wasn’t even sure Ignis had lain down yet.

Gladio knew he wouldn’t be able to get a proper night's rest if he let whatever this was fester. Sighing loudly he flipped over and scooted closer to the other edge of the bed. “Hey, I can’t go to sleep when we’re mad at each other, think you cou--.”

“Mad?! What? Oh, astrals I’ve really screwed things up haven’t I,” Ignis spit out as he resituated himself on the floor. Gladio had been correct Ignis was still sitting up and leaning against the bedframe.

“What are you talking about? What did you screw up?”

“This whole trip is my first diplomatic endeavor and I’ve gone and screwed up the accommodations and I don’t think Bhanis likes me, and now you’re mad at me.”

“Whoa, wait a minute, what do you mean I’m mad at you? You started it.” Gladio huffed while waving his arms around frantically.

“I’m not mad at you,” Ignis replied sincerely.

“Then why the hell are you acting like a dolt, come on get up off the floor and get a proper night's rest.” Before Ignis could comment Gladio had reached out and grabbed his arm. “Come on, up you get.” Being strong helped when manhandling a slightly dazed person. Ignis tried to fight him but eventually gave up and allowed Gladio to drag him onto the bed.

Pulling the covers up with a quick pat on Ignis’ chest, Gladio smiled at his handy work. “There now you’ll sleep better.”

“I’m sorry I made you think I was mad at you.”

“Don’t sweat it, next time let’s talk sooner. I think I understand why you were freaking out earlier though. I didn’t get how upset you were about the room.”

“I don’t want everyone to laugh at me,” Ignis whispered after a moment. “I’m supposed to be Noct’s advisor and I can’t even handle simple room accommodations.”

“Seriously Iggy, that’s a load of bullshit, you are great at your job. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Are you actually worried about this, how the hell would anyone find out anyway?”

“You mean about the room?”

“Yeah, I doubt Bhanis is going to send a letter to the king about how you should’a booked two rooms. I mean they don’t even have more available. The only thing that would have changed is maybe bringing a sleeping bag or somethin’” Gladio paused and waited for Ignis to think about what he was saying. “I wouldn’t have let you go alone so don’t go assuming that outcome either.” When Ignis finally laughed, Gladio knew he’d broken through the fog that had consumed his friend most of the evening.

Even in the dim light from the night sky outside, Gladio could make out Ignis’ face clearly. He still had a smile on his lips and that made Gladio feel so much better. “So we good now, no more weird shit?”

“Oh yes, I’m sorry about making you feel like I was mad at you, it wasn’t my intention. I was simply lost in my own head.”

“I don’t like it when you’re angry, you have enough stuff to stress about in life as it is. Now, relax and get some sleep.”

Ignis hummed in response and let out a deep breath. It seemed he was starting to calm down in an attempt to sleep. Rolling back over himself, Gladio closed his eyes and promptly passed out.

For the first time in ages, Ignis awoke feeling well-rested and warm. The body pillow he usually used was very comfortable this morning. Not paying much attention to the improvement he slowly opened his eyes and froze. He was not at home in his own bed; he was hundreds of miles from Insomnia, currently draped over Gladio like a bloody blanket.

Why had he not slept on the damn floor?! Swallowing hard Ignis breathed in once and attempted to slowly pull away. This was when he became aware of Gladio’s muscled arm holding his shoulder. Six, was he actually using the shield’s arm as a freaking pillow? Figuring he could slide out from the bottom of the bed, Ignis began to wiggle ever so slightly.

However, when he went to untangle one of his legs that was wrapped around Gladio’s thigh, something terrible happened. Gladio moved.

“Oi, where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled before swiftly rolling over and pinning Ignis beneath him.

“For—forgive me I didn’t realize,” Ignis stammered.

“Is that why you wanted to sleep on the floor last night?” Gladio asked nonchalantly, his expression almost smug in nature.

“Shit,” was all Ignis’ brain could conjure, “shit, shit, shit.”

“Oh really, that bad huh?” Gladio replied with a smirk as he rolled his hips.

Ignis had been thinking of what he could say, but Gladio’s simple movement caused his brain to short circuit. What had been the start of morning wood, before the shield surprised him, came back full force. Unable to bite back the moan at the sensation, Ignis turned his head in embarrassment. Maybe if he closed his eyes he’d wake up from this nightmare.

“Iggy, Ignis, come on, look at me,” Gladio requested after a moment. “Get outta your own head, look at what I’m doin’ to you right now!”

“Hmmm.”

“I’ve got you pinned to a fucking bed and I’m enjoying it.”

That statement got Ignis’ attention, Gladio was enjoying it too. Feeling like a colossal idiot Ignis opened his eyes again and looked directly up into the two amber eyes staring at him with lust. “I’m afraid my skills of observation aren’t working as they should be,” he mumbled hoarsely.

Gladio barked out a laugh and grinned, “No shit Sherlock.”

Ignis watched as Gladio’s grin faded into something softer. The shield was slowly closing the gap between them. His eyes were darting up and down, most likely caught on Ignis’ lips. He could attest to that desire as his own gaze flickered between Gladio’s eyes and his mouth.

“Can I – can I kiss you?” Gladio breathed out, barely audible.

Ignis didn’t bother answering; he rushed up to meet Gladio’s mouth instead. It was like a dam breaking, he couldn’t get enough of the shields lips on his skin. They spent the next few minutes trading kisses like drowning men. All the while Gladio continued moving his hips around. It was almost too much to handle, but somehow not enough at the same time.

Reaching up to pull at Gladio’s hair, Ignis was working to remove his t-shirt when a knock sounded at the door. Freezing in place, Ignis waited. Whoever it was knocked again and announced that breakfast was ready. Listening intently to the sound of steps walking away, Ignis let out the breath he was holding. “We can’t, not right now. We can’t keep them waiting,” he rasped.

“That’s okay, I mean, we’ll be sharing the bed again tonight,” Gladio teased as he claimed one last kiss before breakfast.

Gladio couldn’t believe his luck. He’d always entertained the idea of liking Ignis as more than a friend. The time and place hadn’t come about to broach the subject until he’d woken up with Ignis clinging to him. Never having seen his friend look so peaceful before, Gladio had taken the time to enjoy the moment before Ignis woke up.

Even after he’d made his move Ignis still doubted the facts in front of his perfect face. Watching him practically melt into the bed was such a rush. Now, his only issue was how to act professionally in front of their hosts for the rest of the trip, when all he wanted to do was kiss Ignis silly.

Despite Ignis’ attempt to get them ready in a timely manner, they were still late for breakfast. Not by much, mind you, but enough to make Ignis glare at him across the table as they ate. This time Gladio could tell the look had no heat behind it. Most likely because the reason for their tardiness had to do with the mini make-out session they’d managed after brushing their teeth.

Gladio almost forgot they were here for other reasons when Bhanis started talking about their excursion for the day. They’d be visiting a farm in the mountains and not returning until later that evening. Curious as to what was so important that merited an all-day trip, Gladio easily listened to Bhanis as they all walked outside.

Grinning excitedly when he spotted a few motorcycles in their path, he turned to Ignis to comment but stopped dead when he noticed Ignis’ expression. Ignis was wide-eyed and looking at him imploringly. He knew Ignis knew how to drive a car among many other types of vehicles, why would a motorcycle freak him out.

Stalling so Ignis could catch up, he raised an eyebrow in hopes Ignis would spill the beans. “I don’t know how to ride!” he hissed quietly.

“Oh, that’s easy, start looking in your satchel, think like a nerdy professor,” Gladio offered before he strode away towards Bhanis. “I love to ride, which one do we get to use?” he asked happily.

“They are all the same, please choose anyone you like.”

“Great, I think Ignis and I will fit on that one alright,” Gladio announced while pointing to the nearest bike.

“Oh, you don’t have to share this time,” Bhanis laughed. “Bikes we have plenty of, just not extra rooms.”

“Nice, but I think Ignis really wanted to document the trip and he’d be better able to do that if he wasn’t driving.” Looking over to Ignis, Gladio waved his hand around to indicate the scene before them. Ignis picked up quickly and pulled out his phone and a notepad.

“Yes, I was hoping to get a good record of the trip, can the bike handle two riders?”

“Oh sure, that makes sense,” Bhanis replied easily. “We’re very excited to have more people know about our efforts here.”

Nothing more was discussed as they got on the bikes and started out. Gladio could tell that Ignis was relieved at not having to learn a new skill in less than five minutes. Though, he was sure the advisor would have picked up the basics in no time.

The ride was rough over the rocky terrain, which made handling the bike a little tricky. He knew things were getting bad when Ignis would squeeze his legs together slightly as if silently telling him to be careful. After about forty minutes a small building came into view, followed by a long wooden fence. Given how far out from civilization they were, nothing could have prepared Gladio for what lay on the other end of the fence.

“You breed chocobos?” he asked in disbelief when a whole herd of the birds crossed their path a few minutes later.

“There must be hundreds of them,” Ignis added as they took in the sight.

Bhanis smiled proudly as they looked over the landscape filled with the giant birds. “Yes, this is how we make our living.”

“Why don’t more people know about this?” Gladio asked in wonder.

“We use third-party sellers to broker deals, so that means not very many people make it out here.”

“Forgive my lack of understanding, but how do you manage to sell enough birds to make it profitable?” Ignis asked kindly.

“Ah, our birds are raised in the best conditions,” Bhanis announced. “The mountain air helps them gain a cold tolerance that other breeds don’t have, and we feed them nothing but the highest quality food.”

“I see, so that makes your birds desirable over other breeders.”

“Exactly, our birds are the best you can buy.”

“Hey, wait a minute, do you all specialize in anything, like race birds?”

Bhanis’ grin grew even bigger; it was all starting to make sense. They were visiting a premiere chocobo racing breeder. No wonder it paid the bills, racer birds went for thousands of gil.

“What other jobs can the birds do?” Ignis asked quickly, Gladio could tell his mind was working overtime.

“Oh they’re sturdy; if the crown were to ever need any good birds for the military we’d be happy to be your supplier. You can’t get a better chococbo than this.” Bhanis supplied as he looked out over the sea of feathers and yellow beaks.

“I would very much like to discuss this with you in greater detail,” Ignis added excitedly. “I can see us having an en excellent partnership in the future.”

The rest of the day flew by after that. Ignis spent their time at the farm taking pictures and talking to farmhands. They even had a chance to see a rare black chocobo, the bird was truly magnificent and seemed to like Ignis. It would follow him around as they toured the farm. The spunky bird even tried to steal his glasses at one point. The advisor ducked out of the way just in time and promptly put his glasses away for safekeeping.

They ate as the sun began to lower into the afternoon sky, Bhanis wanted to get back to the village before sundown so they’d have to leave soon.

Gladio was happy to see Ignis finally getting into the trip. It seemed the prospect of bringing back such a treasure trove of information to the king had made him feel better. The ride back was pleasant enough, despite the bumps and dust in the air. Thankfully, Bhanis had given them visors to wear during the ride, it kept most of the debris away. Though Gladio was sure his hair was one giant knot and Ignis looked really cute all windswept and rosy-cheeked.

He wanted to get back to their room and pick up where they’d left off that morning. They had so many things to catch up on and discover. Overall, this trip was a success; Gladio knew Ignis would get high praises for his efforts when they returned home. Brokering a deal for military stock chocobos would ensure a leg up if they went to war with Niflheim. He was proud of Ignis and how he handled everything. The advisor was a hard worker, and Gladio hoped he would be able to show him how much he admired him. They were at the beginning of a new adventure together, one that Gladio couldn’t wait to get started.

Thirteen Years Later

The sun glittered across the newly installed glass of the citadel as Ignis stood waiting for Gladio. He had a lunch packed for them and was ready to get going. They were exploring some of the outlining areas of Insomnia to check the damage level. Life was bustling again for most of the city, but some areas still hadn’t started rebuilding.

When the rumbling of a loud engine reached his ears, Ignis looked up and watched Gladio ride across the parking lot on a comfortable looking cruiser motorcycle. Smiling at his lover, Ignis then turned to wave goodbye to Noct. The king insisted on seeing them off since he was still a little clingy after being stuck in the crystal for ten years.

The king narrowed his eyes and pointed to the bike when it rolled to a stop in front of them. “Why only one bike, you know how to rid--,”

“Shhh,” Ignis interjected smoothly.

“What, excuse me, did you just shush me?!” Noct exclaimed. “I only wanted to know why you aren’t riding your own bi--.”

“Nahhhhhh Majesty, shhh.” Ignis could hear Gladio laughing behind him.

“Leave him alone princess, he wants to ride with me.”

“You too are so gross, don’t forget to take pictures,” Noct chided. “And I mean pictures of the city not of you two making out and being cuddly.”

“What, no pictures at all?”

“Nooooo, I’m already a nervous wreck when you two go out exploring without me, be safe, and have fun okay.”

“Will do majesty, don’t give Prompto too much of a hard time, he’s a good stand-in shield, let him do his job.”

“Yeah, yeah, heard, get outta here before it gets too late.”

With a simple nod, Gladio and he set off into the morning light, ready to explore their newly liberated city. Life had been rough, but they’d handled it the best way they knew how. Together.

Relaxing into the seat Ignis closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the wind in his hair and Gladio’s sturdy body between his thighs. This was going to be a fun day.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691978

#ffxv #fanfic #gladnis #gladio #ignis

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moonlitdesertdreams · 3 years

Text

Judgement Call (Din Djarin x OC)- Chapter IX

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CHAPTER IX: DANGER

“Mando, can you help me?”

Zakia held two large crates from the ship, one sliding awkwardly overtop of the other and threatening to fall. They were on the small wooden ledge surrounding their hut, courtesy of the thankful village, moving all of their supplies in. The Mandalorian had moved most of the large items, but Zakia had apparently bit off more than she could chew.

“I got it.” The Mandalorian took the top box, successfully removing it from Zakia’s view.

She carefully trod into the hut, almost running into Mando’s back as he stopped in front of her. Zakia peeked around his body to see what had stopped him, taking in the tall woman who was anchoring the outside blinds up for them. She recalled Caben mentioning that someone named Omera was setting up their lodging, and assumed this must be her.

“Please come in.” She said, tightening the knot. “I hope this is comfortable for you. Sorry that all we have is the barn”

Omera had a kind voice and brown eyes, but Zakia could see the weariness behind her irises. “This will do fine. Your village is very quaint. Peaceful.”

“I’m glad.” Omera smiled gently, and Zakia felt herself gravitate towards the personality. It had been a long time since there had been a motherly figure in her life. “I stacked some blankets over here.” She motioned to the corner.

Zakia managed to squeeze by Mando and place her box on the ground as he thanked the woman for her thoughtfulness. A flash of gray and blue near the door caught Zakia’s eye, and the Mandalorian was already reaching for his blaster by the time she turned around. The offending figure leapt out of sight with a gasp, and Zakia brought a hand to rest on Mando’s arm as she realized it was not a threat.

Omera glanced between them and the door, before walking over to wrap an arm around the shoulders of a young girl. She bore a striking resemblance to Omera, and Zakia’s lips turned up at the edges.

“This is my daughter, Winta.” She introduced as the girl clung to her skirts. “We don’t get a lot of visitors around here. She’s not used to strangers.”

Zakia waved a hand in greeting, attempting to dispel some of the tension that had grown in the room. Winta managed a small smile back, fingers lifting off her mother’s shirt in the smallest hint of a wave.

“These nice people are going to help protect us from the bad ones.” Omera explained to her daughter, stroking a hand through her hair.

Winta lifted her head, brown eyes darting between Mando and Zakia.

“Thank you.”

It was barely a whisper, but it caused the motherly feeling within Zakia to flare. The warmth that spread through her was the same as when she held the Child, who was toddling about behind Cara outside the hut. Winta’s scared eyes and timid voice seemed to affect Mando as well, though no one else would ever pick up on it lest the helmet be removed.

Omera gave the couple a fond once-over before ushering Winta off the small porch. “Come on, Winta. Let’s give our guests some room.”

The family took their leave, and Zakia turned to Mando. “I think this place will be good to us.”

Emotionless steel stared back at her, but the voice gave away all she needed to know. “I think you’re right.”

The Mandalorian was unused to the sounds of children playing and people milling about so close by.

Zakia was scouting the edge of the village with Cara, though Din was fairly sure she was just bored sitting around and needed an excuse to move. The village was quaint, as she had said, and it was something foreign to the hunters. His own lack of action manifested into an afternoon of weapons maintenance. After cleaning his own blaster and handing it off to Zakia, he took hers and offered to clean and oil them. She accepted and kissed his helmet before taking off with Cara.

Having made his way through a quarter of the blasters and rifles in the crates they had moved in, Mando settled on taking care of his Amban rifle. The pronged weapon was getting used more and more as Zakia once again acted as long-distance support on missions. It was a rhythm he had missed- one they had forgone after her injury. Before they traveled together, it was fairly common for them to work together on a large bounty. Din would go in the front and draw the attention, and Zakia would pick off the enemies as they appeared. She’d been damn good, and the best, according to many. To both their surprise, the injury she’d befallen at the hands of the Wookiee damaged her facial muscles beyond comprehension. Sniping proved much more difficult with half a face that refused to listen to nerve signals.

Din focused on the rifle, carefully removing the pronged end to clean the connections and oil the threads where it screwed together. A knock echoed from the hut’s entrance, and he didn’t have to turn. After many years of wearing a helmet and using his ears, Din learned to identify people by their footsteps very easily. And they were too heavy to be Zakia.

“Come in.” He grunted, wiping a rag over the tip of the rifle.

His shoulders moved just enough so he could see Omera enter with a tray of food and cup of water beside the provisions. Her daughter followed close behind, eyes on the Child which rocked in a small wooden bassinet behind him. The creature’s ears perked up at the girl’s appearance, and Mando heard her giggle as he continued his work.

“Can I feed him?” The quiet voice of Winta reached his ears, and Din felt the hair on his neck rise.

A protective instinct rose within him, making his limbs jittery and his throat tight. He fought the feeling back, squashing it with confidence and looking back at the girl.

“Sure.”

He watched the girl carefully out of the corner of his visor. She knelt down to his level and the baby giggled happily, clawed hands reaching out for her hair. Mando had noticed the fascination it had with woman’s hair, as it had stared down Cara’s when they were on the speeder the previous night, and always reached out to grab Zakia’s wild curls. Winta kept her hair out of reach, but instead satisfied the Child with a small piece of cheese. It chirped happily as it accepted the meal, and Din couldn’t help the smile beneath his helmet.

He was almost finished with the Amban rifle when Winta spoke. “Can I play with him?”

Again with the jitters. It was harder to push away this time, and Din grit his teeth. He was unwilling to admit his attachment to the creature, but at the same time didn’t want it out of his sight.

“Sure.” The answer was choked out, but his modulator helped to hide the edge in his voice. Din propped the rifle against a nearby create and bent forward to place the Child on the wooden floor.

It toddled and babbled after Winta, and Mando’s body moved forward out of instinct when they made it to the threshold.

“I don’t think-”

Omera waved him off, “They’ll be fine.”

His body propelled him another step forward. “I don’t-”

“They’ll be fine.” This time the woman took a step in his path, obviously sensing his distress.

Din realized then he hadn’t been alone in an unfamiliar place in a long time, and it explained some of the anxiety that mounted in his brain. Zakia was out of his sight and the Child as well, and his heart was racing beneath his beskar.

“I brought you some food. I noticed you didn’t eat with Zakia before she left.” Omera motioned to the tray which she’d sat on the windowsill, “I’ll leave it for when I go.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.” The Mandalorian said, wiping the remaining oil from his hands.

His hands that absolutely were not shaking with unjustified paranoia.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

The roundabout question momentarily pulled Din’s mind away from the feelings swirling around his brain. His eyes found Omera in his peripherals, and his body relaxed a touch. The woman was docile and kind, and Din admired that which remained after everything she had been through.

“Go ahead.”

The shifting of Omera’s robes indicated her hesitancy. “How long has it been since you’ve taken that off?”

It was the question everybody had, but few were brave enough to ask. Din admired the courage she had in asking, and sighed. When on missions, the days rolled by with the helmet over his head. He tried not to count, only beginning to maintain some semblance of normalcy when Zakia began traveling with him and he would take it off at night. He tried each night to remove it, taking a few moments to plunge the living quarters into darkness and allow Zakia to touch his face. To card her fingers through her hair and remind him that he did in fact have a home. But it had been a day since his helmet was removed. Their recent shenanigans with regards to the Child had left their previously managed schedule in disarray.

“Yesterday” Din decided. He thought he remembered waking up and pulling it on, though that very well could have been the previous day. Time felt different in space.

“I mean, in front of someone else.” Omera pressed.

Din could hear the concern and feel the mothering. He hadn’t embraced anything like it since he was a child. Zakia cared for him in a very specific way; they were partners and they did love each other. However, Zakia was never one for doting. She knew he could handle himself and he acknowledged she could do the same. Losing their unborn child had made her grow cold and callous. Their love had faded, but the bond they shared never would. But their acquisition of the Child had reinvigorated something long gone. Something Omera seemed to possess and lend out to anyone in need.

“I wasn’t much older than they are.” Din motioned to the children playing outside the window, ignoring the twinge of sadness that came along with memories of his childhood.

Omera’s face fell into what Din could only describe as sadness. “You haven’t shown your face to anyone since you were a kid?”

It was unlike him to allow these types of questions, but Omera’s nurturing nature and motherly tone didn’t indicate her as an enemy. The opposite, in fact. “No. I was happy that they took me in. My parents were killed and the Mandalorians took care of me.”

“I’m sorry.” Omera said softly. Her hands moved as if she wanted to comfort him but thought better of it.

“This is the Way.”

The saying seemed lost on her, but the woman nodded curtly. “Let us know if there is anything you need. And, please extend the same courtesy to your family.”

The word family hit Din like a charging mudhorn- and he knew what that felt like. It knocked the wind out of him and plunged him headfirst into a freezing stream of emotion. The helmet suddenly felt too tight, and he maneuvered to the windowsill. He remained in the shadows and shed the beskar, sucking in a deep breath. The plate of food was dragged closer automatically as he realized how empty his stomach was.

The Child was directly in front of him, surrounded by other village children who were gigging excitedly. Din drew in a breath and rubbed his face. His mind was racing, and he gulped down the glass of water like it was his last. The food followed shortly after, and Din found himself munching through a pack of the spicy bantha jerky Zakia liked so much.

Nerves calmed and stomach satiated, Din slipped the helmet back on. He stood near the windowsill for a moment, this time so the children could see him. The Child seemed to sense his presence, and cooed at him from his playtime. Two other figures who he quickly recognized as Zakia and Cara crossed through the village center, the former kneeling to say hello to the Child. Din’s breath caught as he watched the creature smile at her and tug her curls. Watching her interact with the kid had the jittery, protective feeling shooting back through his limbs. These were his people.

His family.

Though she had come back appearing to be in a good mood, Zakia had always done well hiding her concerns. Her and Cara had entered the hut quietly, each taking a seat as they explained their suspicions. DIn’s stomach lurched at the fact that there may be a AT-ST concealed in the trees, and hoped Cara and Zakia were simply overreacting.

However, he was the one who was wrong.

Din followed the women back to the sight of their find, kneeling down near the patterned footprint. It was an obvious indication of the machine’s presence, and he gritted his teeth. There was no way the tiny village plus him, Zakia, and Cara could fight off an Imperial Walker.

“Bad news” He had announced when they made it back to the village, “You can’t live here anymore.”

The village erupted into mumblings of disbelief, and some stared at the trio of warriors on the porch. Din stood in the middle, with Zakia and Cara on either side. The blonde smacked his arm at the declaration, the ice shards she called eyes rolling. “ Stars, Mando.”

“You think you can do better?” He snarked, nuding her ribs with his elbow.

Cara snorted. “Can’t do much worse.”

Much to Din’s relief, the dark-haired woman stepped forward. “I know this is not the news you wanted to hear.”

“You took the job!” They protested. Din bristled, but he knew they villagers couldn’t comprehend the danger. They had never experienced the carnage that an AT-ST was capable of.

“We didn’t know about the AT-ST when you found us.” Zakia remarked, lips dropping into a frown.

“What is that?” It was one of the two men who initially met Zakia and Mando who spoke.

“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t tell us.” Cara returned, eyes catching Din’s visor and Zakia’s icy ones before turning back to the crowd.

They all murmured their protests, begging for help. Din’s eyes landed on Winta, who cradled the Child to her chest and pressed into her mother’s side as the agitation grew.

“We have nowhere to go.” Omera spoke directly to them, and Din watched the exchange carefully. Zakia chewed on her cheek, puckering the already mangled skin. He could read her eyes, and the pity in them. The village was being hunted, just as he, Zakia, and the Child were. They couldn’t run away like he had. Their whole lives were rooted in this one place, and it was a place Din and Zakia had both agreed that they wanted to stay in.

“Sure you do.” Cara’s words pulled him out of his reviere. “This is a big planet.”

The villagers began to rile once again, speaking of their family’s history in the village. It became blatantly clear that they were wholly opposed to leaving. Din considered the thought. They could train these people. Teach them how to shoot, how to fight. But going into battle with an AT-ST was a whole different story.

“I’m sorry. We understand your reluctance, but there are only three of us.” Zakia spoke up, surprising Din. The pity had not left her gaze, but it was evident she cared more for their safety than their village. Things could be replaced.

“Look around! There’s at least twenty here. We can learn!”

“I’ve seen that thing take out entire companies of soldiers in a matter of minutes!” Cara exclaimed, looking to Zakia and Mando for help. The former nodded in agreement, but Mando leaned against the wood hut, internal debate raging.

What was happening to him?

“We’re not leaving.” Omera insisted. Her eyes darted from Zakia to Din, pleading for support from someone who could sway the shock-trooper’s opinion.

“You can’t fight an AT-ST.” Zakia reiterated Cara’s statement, blue eyes shifting across the crowd. “I’m sorry.”

“Unless we show them how.”

Both women whirled on their heel to face the Mandalorian. Cara maintained a neutral expression, but the concern in her eyes was clear. Zakia simply stared before brushing by him into the hut.The villagers were too busy whooping and cheering to notice the exchange, but Cara cocked a brow.

“You got your work cut out for you.” She said, stepping off the porch.

Mando glanced down at her, mind already planning their training. He had the guns here, but there were other weapons in the ship he hadn’t brought. “We’ll have to make a trip back to the Crest, but-”

Cara chuckled. “Not with the villagers.”

She disappeared into the small crowd, and Din stared at the empty space she had occupied. He knew Zakia had been strained after all of their sudden lifestyle changes, and the added stress of the Walker seemed to stretch her further. Din had hoped the decision would make her happy- if they were to stay there with the kid, it had to be safe.

Biting the inevitable bullet, the Mandalorian turned on his heel and left the people to their devices. Inside their dwelling, Zakia was sitting on the small futon near the windowsill with a blank gaze pointed towards the treeline. Mando took a moment to cover their door with a canvas and pull the drape over the window. She didn’t flinch as he came and sat beside her in the now-darkened room.

“You’re angry.” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m not.” Zakia rubbed her eyes as if trying to wash the emotion away.

“Then you are..?” Din never was good at gauging a woman’s mood, and he assumed it wasn’t the best time to guess.

“I don’t know. Hormonal?” Zakia supplied.

Din flinched, and she lifted her head to look at him.

“Don’t worry it’s not serious. Just, between the shootout and the kid, and everything else. I’m a little frazzled. I want to stay here, but these people can’t fight a Walker, Din.” Zakia leaned into his side, nudging her hands beneath his cuirass and holding onto his undershirt.

“Maybe they’ll surprise you.” He thought of Omera and her child, and didn’t doubt Zakia inferred something from his statement.

“Speaking of,” Zakia set her chin on his pauldron. “It seems that you made quite a connection with Omera.”

“She’s very kind.” Mando said, hand moving from his lap to stretch across Zakia’s shoulders.

“I noticed.” Zakia tapped her nails against his beskar, and Mando wished they were on his skin. “I think she likes you.”

Din snorted, and the modulator changed it into a strangled sound that Zakia giggled at.

“For real! Maybe I’ll take the Crest and go back to bounty hunting. I’ll leave you here with the widow.” Her face was serious, but her words were teasing. “Really though, I think she’s hiding something.”

“What would that be?”

“I don’t know, Din, I just feel it.” Zakia told him. “I’m good at people.”

Their training began the next morning. Mando worked with blaster skills, Cara with staff and bayonetting, and Zakia with preparation. The blonde was teaching them how to put their wooden fence up, and where to dig out the ponds to create a trap for the Walker. She only paused when they began target practice across camp. Her group continued working as she strolled to Mando’s side. The villagers were firing one by one down the line. Each missed or ricocheted, until they reached the end. Omera stood there with a repeat blaster to her shoulder, and fired off near twenty shots that hit the target dead center each time.

Mando tilted his head in curiosity, and Zakia’s elbow was once again in his ribs. “Told you.”

When sunset fell and Zakia was strapping on her holsters so they could draw the enemy out, she noticed a presence on the porch where Mando stood. Omera stepped up quietly, and Zakia narrowed her eyes. She was a sweet woman, that was a fact, but she was hiding something. There was no reason that a villager from Sorgan would have ever had weapons training as she demonstrated.

“You’ll be departing soon.” Zakia could hear Omera’s voice from her position on the bedroll. She finished strapping her boots and listened closely.

“And when we return, we’ll be coming in hot.” Mando replied. Zakia looked towards them, and her eye twitched at the proximity. She caught herself shortly after, sitting up straight so quickly she almost had whiplash.

She was jealous.

Zakia almost laughed aloud at the ridiculousness of it, and a short guffaw broke through her lips. She knew the Mandalorian would never give anyone a chance except her, and she was comfortable in their relationship. What she was feeling came from somewhere deep and instinctual.

“Are you okay?”

Zakia shook her head to clear it, looking up at the form in front of her. Cara was ready to go, guns on her hips and hair freshly tied back. The blonde stood, striding out of the hut with Cara to where Mando was waiting. Zakia couldn’t help the urge to touch him, and reached a hand to the underside of his pauldron. Din looked to her as she initiated the contact, and she would imagine his eyes were confused.

“Are we ready?” Zakia asked, repossessing her hand.

“Yes. Clear on the plan?” Mando asked aloud, boots whispering on the grass they stood on just outside of their Walker booby-trap.

“Draw them here and bring the Walker. We’ll take it down, and then handle the raiders.” Cara recited.

Zakia nodded in agreement as they headed into the forest to end Sorgan’s conflict once and for all.

#din djarin x oc #din x oc #din #mando #mando x oc #sorgan #baby yoda #star wars #grogu #at-st #imperial walker

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flightfoot · 4 years

Text

Alya (and Nino)

Note: I’m specifically talking about the Alya and Nino from @angelofthequeers excellent fic “Hold Me By Both Hands” There be spoilers!

AO3

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

Alya gets a prominent storyline of her own in Hold Me By Both Hands, with Nino serving as her Deuteragonist.

At first Alya mostly has a supporting role, not too different from canon. Even from the first chapter though, things start diverging quite a bit, including with Alya, with Marinette going into a lot more detail with why Lila’s assertions should be taken with a grain of salt, pointing out that Ladybug saving Lila doesn’t really make Lila that impressive or interview-worthy. Ladybug’s saved a LOT of Paris. Along with pointing out that even if her claims of being Ladybug’s best friend WERE true, it’d be highly irresponsible for her to be bragging about it, and dangerous to broadcast her association with Ladybug in case Hawkmoth went after her or the people around her for leverage. That’s enough to prompt Alya to do a rethink about Lila’s other claims and take them with a grain of salt, along with taking down the interview in case it attracted the wrong kind of attention.

But the part I really loved about the sequence was this bit:

“Ladybug’s saved half of Paris,” Marinette points out. “Lila’s not the only person she’s saved.” She hasn’t even saved Lila before. “If anyone was going to be her best friend, I’d think it’d be someone like you, right? You’re the one she gave that interview to. She wouldn’t even think of agreeing to that interview when I asked until I mentioned that you’d be the one interviewing her. She’s only saved Lila once, but she’s talked to you loads of times.”

“Oh – well, I mean, you’ve got a point there.” Alya practically swells before Marinette’s eyes. (Chapter 1)

Marinette’s pulling at the threads, unraveling Lila’s lies, but… she’s not doing it by tearing down Alya for believing her. She’s boosting her up instead by just stating the truth. And that subtle reminder that Marinette got Alya that first interview, while also saying that she agreed to it because it was with ALYA… it’s just so good! Marinette cares about Alya a lot, and wants her to know how much she appreciates and respects her, even if when it comes to Ladybug, she has to do it in a roundabout way.

It’s not too big a deal when Alya (and also Nino, who heard part of it) begin to doubt Lila, she’s ultimately just a girl who brags and makes up stories at this point. A little disappointing that some of the things she’d say she might be able to set up obviously aren’t feasible, but nothing especially worldshaking.

No, Alya only really shows dislike for Lila once she starts harming her friends – at first when she just pretends that SHE was the main organizer behind the protest to get Adrien back in school instead of Marinette, and later on with how Lila keeps touching Adrien. She still keeps her confrontations civil and to-the-point though.

“Lila, why did you try and take credit for Marinette’s idea?” Alya says. “Why’d you tell Adrien that you were the brains behind everything, but you let Marinette take charge?” (Chapter 4)

She points it out and asks, but allows for explanation, since it looks bad, but Lila still giving her a chance to defend herself and explain. This sort of questioning should serve her well as a reporter, holding people to account, but allowing them room to give context to their actions.

Alya and Nino also join in on poking holes in Lila’s lies like Marinette was back in Heroes Day, to about the same level of effect.

There’s a lot of nice just… friendship fluff with Alya and Marinette hanging out together having fun, with the occasional hiccup like during Chloe’s party, but nothing that a good conversation can’t help with. Neither of them want to harm the other, and as long as they’re willing to sit down and talk things out, with neither of them meaning any harm, but occasionally just getting the wrong idea or not realizing a problem, it’s nothing they can’t handle.

Just… all the little sequences of Alya and Marinette hanging out, just having a normal friendship – not one completely devoid of any semblance of conflict or disagreement, but one where they can work those things out because they’re willing to do so, and normally just enjoying each other’s company – it really makes them feel alive and REAL.

The casual establishment of their friendship and of Alya’s character makes the kickstarting of her own subplot all the more satisfying, since the reader has good reason to be invested in Alya, even beyond already being invested in her via canon.

Ladybug and Chat Noir start thinking about recruiting help, Ladybug putting forward Alya’s name, naturally.

“Well…” Ladybug chews her lip. “Alya’s the Ladyblogger, right? She’s already familiar with our job. And she loves us, so I know she’d never betray us. Also…maybe she’ll have a new appreciation for our secret identities if she’s got one of her own?”

“Makes sense,” Chat Noir says. “But why the Fox? Alya’s a pretty forceful person…from what I’ve seen.”

“Trixx is a crafty kwami,” Ladybug says. “I think he would be a good influence on Alya and help balance out that forcefulness. And the Fox corresponds to wood, right? That push to grow and hang back to get the facts first could be just what Alya needs, especially after why she was akumatised into Lady Wifi.” (Chapter 19)

She’s got multiple reasons, both positive and negative, but all pushing towards making Alya the fox. On the positive side, she KNOWS how loyal Alya is to them, that she wouldn’t turn against them, that they can rely on her. But also acknowledging some of her flaws and recognizing how giving her Trixx, making her a superhero, can help her grow, rather than simply taking those as marks against her. The need for subtlety and to hang back combining with Alya’s more naturally forceful, action-oriented nature… the balance helps reinforce the themes of the show, and of the fic in particular taking pains to make the different relationships between characters (Ladybug and Chat Noir especially) more balanced overall.

Alya’s drive, her impulsivity, is only a bad thing if left untampered – going too far the other direction can be just as bad. So Ladybug recognizing that and specifically choosing the fox for her, helping her restructure her mindset a bit, to foster the need to take the time to gather information and analyze the situation before acting? I just really love her looking at Alya and thinking about what kind of support and scenarios would be most useful in fostering her development. It really shows why Ladybug’s a good leader here – not just because of her ability to make up plans on the fly, but for how she’s supporting her teammates.

Ladybug still gives Alya a bit of a test, with telling her she needs to give it back at the end, but she’s not singling Alya out for this – she and Chat do it for most people they end up giving Miraculous too, when practical. It’s a reasonable precaution, even though they DO trust the people they’re giving them too generally.

The banter, the playfulness when they give Alya her Miraculous, just… just getting to have fun with the three of them interacting, Alya getting to have a good time in her own right… it’s sadly rare to see that, to see her own emotions, feelings, and story get a prominent role. It’s great showing her being support for Marinette, but it’s also great to see her friends helping and supporting her as well.

Seriously, Alya’s living her best life getting to be a superhero and banter with Ladybug and Chat Noir (I really love the banter), and seeing her just getting to be happy and excited and just generally being portrayed in a positive light and having a good time, it’s a really big relief and break from the negativity I often see towards Alya in fanfics.

Ladybug’s evaluations of Alya are really great, positive but showing where there’s room for improvement, and actively trying to help her on that path, being constructive rather than tearing her down.

“Besides, imagine the chaos of having unlimited illusions everywhere without a timer once you’re more experienced,” Ladybug says. “You wouldn’t know what’s real or what’s not. The Fox is suited to hanging back and annoying the enemy, remember?”

“Hanging back? That doesn’t sound like me at all,” Rena Rouge says.

“Which is why we picked you for the Fox,” Ladybug says. “It’s not always about what power you’re best suited to, but what that power can teach you. I get the feeling that you’ll benefit from learning how to be a true Fox, especially since you wanna be a professional journalist someday. Hang back, gather information, confuse your opponent, then get out of there. Even if you prefer to be in the thick of things, it’s all about learning how to use your wits under stress. He did say that aggressive foxes were a thing, didn’t he?” (Chapter 19)

Ladybug’s up front about her reasons for making Alya the Fox in particular, when at first glance it doesn’t seem like it’d suit her – something which Alya also realizes. Ladybug’s really intent on bringing out her teammates true potential and helping them shine, both as a superhero AND as a civilian here, with giving Alya experience honing skills she’ll need as a reporter, but that she hasn’t exercised much so far.

Something else I really love about this whole chapter? The first illusion Alya makes.

Right, right. I think I’ve got it.” Rena Rouge’s brow furrows, then she unslings her flute and raises it to her lips to play a short tune. “Mirage!” She flings the orange orb at the end of her flute and when it hits the ground in front of her, a small group of people appear in a flash of orange light.

Wait. Why is Chat Noir looking at himself? Well, not technically himself, but his civilian self. Adrien. And Marinette, and Nino, and a few other people who he assumes are Rena Rouge’s parents and sisters. Except that they’re slightly fuzzy around the edges and very obviously not real.

“Guess what, guys!” Rena Rouge crows. “I’m a superhero! I’m Rena Rouge! Me, Alya!”

“Oh my gosh, really?” Illusion Marinette bounces on the spot. “That’s so, so cool, Alya!”

“We all know how much you love superheroes, especially Ladybug!” illusion Adrien says.

“I’m so proud of you, babe!” illusion Nino says.

“Our daughter, a hero!” illusion Mrs Césaire says, and illusion Mr Césaire beams and hugs her.

“Super Alya! Super Alya!” the illusion twins chant.

“Not bad, sis,” illusion big sister says. Rena Rouge’s necklace beeps and loses a tail segment, so she sighs and reaches out to touch illusion Nino, and the group of people disappear in another flash of light and the faint sound of flute music. (Chapter 19)

She gets to do what she’s forbidden to do in reality, to tell the people she cares most about that she’s a superhero, to see them be proud and happy for her, to experience it.

And she’s NOT portrayed as selfish for wanting this. It’s recognized as being natural, and being something to commiserate with her over since she can’t have this in reality (well, as far as she knows anyway, considering that half the people she wants to show end up being Miraculous Wielders). Her emotions are recognized and validated.

“Rena?” Ladybug says softly when Rena Rouge says nothing for a few moments. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Rena Rouge turns to face them, and Chat Noir’s stomach lurches at the sight of her glossy eyes. “I just…had to tell them somehow. At least I’ll have that memory with me.”

“You know we’d love nothing more than for you to be able to tell your friends and family, right?” Ladybug says. “But all it would take is one brainwashing or mind-reading akuma…”

“Not even Ladybug and I know who each other are,” Chat Noir says. He slips an arm around Rena Rouge, and she smiles and leans into his embrace. “Considering how many hits I take for her, that’s probably a good thing.”

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” Ladybug mutters as she joins the embrace, sandwiching Rena Rouge between herself and Chat Noir. They stand there in silence, squished together, ignoring Rena Rouge’s Miraculous when it beeps again.

“You know,” Rena Rouge eventually says. “I never would’ve put this on the Ladyblog, even without you guys asking me. I don’t care about the world knowing who I am. I just want my close friends and my family to be proud of me…”

Alya considers Adrien to be one of her close friends? Chat Noir can’t help but squeeze Rena Rouge tighter after that, not that she’ll know why.

“I think they already know just how miraculous you are, even without superpowers,” Ladybug says. (Chapter 19)

They reinforce why this can’t happen, but gently, while giving her support all the while – physically with the hugs as well as verbally by telling her the people she cares about already know how great she is, even without her now being Rena Rouge. She doesn’t have to deal with any of this on her own. Her friends are there to support her.

She gets to hang out with them some more later too, just getting to talk and banter and laugh. It’s somewhat fillerish – it doesn’t move the plot forward much, and doesn’t really tell stuff about Alya that the audience doesn’t already know, but – it’s important in its own right. Seeing her talk about her freebie list, joke about adopting Chat, and talking about stuff that’d happened recently, it all helps develop her and make her feel like a part of this world, and not one that just exists when the plot requires it, promotes her as a person with her own thoughts and feelings and… and presence beyond being a satellite character around Marinette.

Alya’s first major conflict of her own comes with Mr Alternative News blogger, Lars Vos, who is just a PRICK. Seriously, dude jacked her footage and then whined when she told him off for it. He’s akumatized into Faux News, who can make whatever he says a reality.

I really liked how the design for him purposely mirrored a fox, drawing parallels between him and Alya visually, as well as just continuing with the fox = illusions/lies/just generally making it look like something’s real that isn’t.

He goes after Alya’s work in particular, makes it personal, using his newfound powers to steal all the work she put into the Ladyblog for his own website and making the Ladyblog into just a random, amateur website with barely anything on it. Not something that would stick after the guy’s deakumatized, but it’s still really hurtful for Alya, even KNOWING that it’ll all be restored.

And Ladybug and Chat Noir RECOGNIZE that, comforting her, giving her emotional support.

“Hey.” Ladybug grabs Rena Rouge by the biceps and squeezes gently. “We’ll take care of it, okay? We’ll defeat Faux News and the Ladyblog will go back to normal.”

“What milady said,” Chat Noir agrees. “Like we’re gonna let some ugly Rena knock-off win. Hawkmoth deserves our Miraculouses if we lose to this guy.”

Rena Rouge snorts and wipes her eyes, even though her mask conceals any traces of tears. “Thanks, guys. I just…god, I can’t stand people who steal others’ work.” (Chapter 29)

Of course, even with that support, she’s only human. It helps, but she’s not really calm enough to fight the akuma with a level head, which gets to be a bit of an issue.

“There’s too many of them!” Ladybug says. “And Rena’s too angry to focus on a proper Mirage!”

“You no-good fake!” Rena Rouge shrieks in the background, inadvertently confirming Ladybug’s assessment. “Stop hiding behind your little fans and face me like a proper fox!”

“Rena, take a chill pill!” Chat Noir calls. Naturally, he’s ignored. “Okay, uh, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let her take this one?”

“We should’ve made her sit it out,” Ladybug agrees while elbowing a young man in the solar plexus and dropping him like a sack of bricks. “Too personal. I think I’ll have to…Lucky Charm!” A little red and black candle falls into her hands. (Chapter 29)

Her rage is especially a liability with the specific powerset she has, since it really requires her to be calm and able to think critically and concentrate in order to use it effectively. It’s one of the issues with deliberately giving her a Miraculous that requires a mindset that clashes with her personality; it’s useful in honing specific skills she needs to develop, but in a more emotional situation like this one, it’s a liability. Though she’d have been in a bad situation regardless, with the anger making her reckless and potentially easier to trick into making a damaging mistake.

So Chat needs to choose a new ally to help, giving Nino time to shine. He’s been a part of the group before this but didn’t really have his own arc per se, mostly just hanging out and giving Adrien some support when it comes to his crappy father.

Chat looks for something a little different when choosing an ally-Miraculous pair; Ladybug deliberately chose against type when giving Alya the Fox in order to help her shore up her weaknesses, while Chat chooses a Miraculous first, then tries to find someone who matches it well right away, whose strengths match those of the Miraculous. Which probably has to do with it being an emergency; with Alya they had the luxury of being able to train with her first, while in this case, the Miraculous Wielder’s gonna be dumped into battle immediately. There isn’t time for them to learn the ropes.

His choice of wielder is pretty much inevitable. Adrien just doesn’t have a very large social circle.

Nino’s naturally on board with it, even if he’s not chomping at the bit like Alya was. Mostly because hey, he can actually help protect Alya, since she can be pretty reckless sometimes.

I really like the dynamic that builds up between Rena Rouge and Carapace, with both of them being offended at the insinuation that they might be romantically interested in each other and having this sort of rivalry. It adds an interesting twist to their dynamic, especially with how it mirrors the Love Square in a bizarre sort of way.

Anyway, more of that comes in later. Back to Alya.

After defeating Faux News, she KNOWS she messed up and even assumes that Ladybug’s gonna want her Miraculous back.

Because I messed up big-time.” Alya still hasn’t looked up from the ground. “I made everything worse. I let my anger get in the way. And if you can’t trust me to –”

“Stop!” Ladybug holds up a hand, and Alya’s mouth clacks shut. “I’m not taking the Miraculous, Alya.”

“You’re not?” Alya’s head whips up, revealing the newfound shine in her hazel eyes.

“You don’t lose it for making a mistake, little kit,” Trixx says from Alya’s shoulder.

“Trixx is right,” Ladybug says. “Both Chat Noir and I trust you with our lives, and we’ve made plenty of mistakes between us. It’d be hypocritical to take your Miraculous from you. But it can’t happen again.” (Chapter 30)

I really liked this. Because yeah, she messed up and it was dangerous… but it wasn’t the sort of mistake where she should have her Miraculous taken away. It’s something she can learn from and work on, and it’s just… well, it’s just a normal, human mistake. It’s a damaging one that put her in danger, but like Ladybug said, she and Chat have made mistakes too. Sometimes emotions override good judgement.

I also really liked Ladybug’s approach on how to prevent this from reoccurring.

“I should’ve realised that the battle was too personal,” Ladybug says. “This is a battle you should’ve sat out, Alya, and I’m sorry that I didn’t recognise that from the start.”

“Well, it’s not like you could’ve told me,” Alya says. “And wasn’t it safer for me to be Rena, anyway? So he couldn’t find me?”

“Yes, but we shouldn’t have let you get involved,” Ladybug says. “I’ll talk to Chat. We might implement a rule that you’re not allowed to get directly involved if we feel it’s too personal, unless we desperately need your help. One mistake could’ve leaked your secret identity or compromised your ability to be part of the team.” (Chapter 30)

I’ve talked about how I like Ladybug’s approach of trying to bring out the best in her teammates before, to help them grow, and this is an extension of that sort of philosophy I think, this idea of “ok these are the people I’m managing, how can I help them reach their full potential and maneuver them for the best outcome?” It’s not based on rewards and punishments, but on talking things out and just plain treating the other person with respect. Seriously, she’d be a great manager and is a really good team leader.

Ok I’m reading through some of the Rena-Carapace interactions some more and damn they are just really funny. Like, just having them know each other and having the same interactions they do as Alya and Nino is fine, but the little twist in their dynamic with the love-hate relationship and just generally sassing each other as superheroes makes it a lot more intriguing than it would be otherwise and gives an opportunity for a different sort of banter than Rena has with most of the others.

That’s most of the rest of the story, with Alya just hanging out with Marinette and co. and bantering with teammates as Rena Rouge. It’s a nice way to keep her involved and keep things interesting while not focusing in on a subplot with her specifically, since other subplots need room to shine. But it’s still a treat to see her in any scene she’s in.

Oh, though just to finish it off, the Nino-Alya reveal near the end when everyone reveals their secret identities is just pure gold.

In any case, I just really loved the whole arc with Alya, especially how even when she made mistakes she wasn’t yelled at, but instead she and Marinette would talk and work things out, would try for a constructive approach instead of the punitive one I often see in salt. It’s just a real breath of fresh air.

#miraculous ladybug #hold me by both hands #alya cesaire #alya sugar #fanfic analysis #ml analysis

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elsylynneverbright · 3 years

Text

Mirror Season Part 1: Divergent Paths

The writing prompts for this series of posts are by @velerodra-valesinger and can be found here!

Elsie was aware of the coming storm that ushered in this “mirror season.” She had little interest in it herself, as it was difficult enough dealing with one version of herself at the time. To her, it seemed like an interesting concept that perhaps Vadel and Kana might have a bit of fun exploring, assuming it was safe. She had not yet heard of anyone falling victim to some sort of accident involving the season in the past though and she had little intention of trying to prevent either Vadel or Kana if they so desired.

Vadel definitely desired to explore this phenomenon herself. She was overcome with some sense of adventure and overwhelming curiosity at the thought. Elsie decided to at the very least join Vadel outside just in case something were to happen. She figured that the mirror would simply pop up and Vadel could interact with it at her leisure. Much to Elsie’s surprise though, the mirror seemed to have a different target in mind.

As the two were standing outside, awaiting this magic mirror, there was a crack of lightning and suddenly the mirror that they had been searching for appeared directly in front of Elsie. She had little time to react before she was sucked in, thrust through the multiverse to a destination unknown.

“Mom, I already told you not to teleport into my dressing roo-” The familiar sounding voice cut herself off as she turned around to see Elsie steadying herself on the wall.

Before Elsie could fully comprehend what was going on, she held up a single finger and quickly stumbled over to the nearest trash can. Multiverse travel was not particularly easy on her stomach. She took a moment to empty the contents of her stomach into the trash can before looking up and wiping off her mouth.

The room was fairly small and filled with various instruments and clothes thrown all over the place. The woman Elsie had heard speaking before was currently sitting on a sort of swivel chair in front of a mirror that was lined with bright lights. The lights illuminated her face and Elsie could see that this woman was in fact her, but considerably more pretty, at least in Elsie’s opinion. It was also pretty clear that this woman was a full-blown musician. At least, that's what would make the most sense to Elsie anyway.

“Who the fuck are you,” the musician asked. Her face was filled with equal parts fear and curiosity as she looked Elsie over.

“It's complicated.” Elsie shook her head as she stood up straight and walked over to where she had first appeared. She took a moment to look around for any sort of path back, but she quickly found herself empty handed. “Ok maybe it's not that complicated. I’m you but, from a different universe. Or reality. Or something…”

“That sounds pretty complicated.” The musician crossed her arms and leaned back in her swivel chair.

“Yeah, for us, kind of.” Elsie was well aware of her lacking inclination toward magic. “Listen, I don’t want to bother you literally at all. I just need to get the fuck back to where I came from. Do you see any like.. Portal back or something?”

The musician looked around the room for a moment. She then began to spin her chair around slowly as she leaned back and examined the room entirely, though not very thoroughly. “Nah, I don’t see shit. You just kind of teleported in.”

Elsie let out a sigh as she turned around and leaned her back against the wall. “Well shit.” She looked at the musician for a moment as she tried to recall what she had been told about the mirrors. “I think I have to… do something then? To get back I mean.”

The musician slowly circled back to Elsie and shrugged. “Sure, that makes sense I guess.” The two sat in silence staring at each other for a moment before the musician spoke up again. “You kind of look like shit.” The musician cleared her throat as Elsie glared at her before continuing. “Not like in terms of beauty or anything. I mean, we have the same face, clearly. I mean, like all the scars and shit…. Are those burn marks on your neck?”

Elsie continued to glare at the musician for a while before letting out a sigh. “A lot has happened. I see none of that seemed to happen to you.”

The musician turned and looked at herself in the mirror for a moment, running her hands over the places where Elsie’s scars were. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve never been in a fight in my life, other than training with my dad some.”

Elsie slowly slid her back along the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She leaned her head back a bit as she looked over at the musician out of the corner of her eye. “So your parents… they’re still alive?”

The musician nodded as she turned back to Elsie.

“Both of them?”

“Yeah of course.”

“And they're together?”

“Should they not be?”

Elsie ignored the questions for the time being as she picked her head up and looked around the room at the instruments. “So, you’re a musician then?”

The musician gave Elsie a weird look as she dropped the subject but then nodded. “Yep. Just got done with a concert before you showed up.”

“Well damn. Good for you.” Elsie chuckled as she leaned her head back once again and stared up at the ceiling as if some sort of wormhole would open up and suck her back to her own timeline. “I guess that's the difference between us. You chased your dreams and I didn’t.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” The musician tilted her head slightly as she looked at Elsie. She seemed to almost pity her in a way.

“I never had the chance.” Elsie let out a loud sigh. “I kind of got fucked over if I’m being honest.”

“By the world?”

“By myself.” Elsie chuckled as she picked her head up again. “Just kind of kept making dumb decision after dumb decision.” Elsie stared at the musician for a moment as she attempted to put the pieces together in her head. “You ever deal with Vanlien?”

“Yeah.” The musician rolled her eyes and Elsie instantly knew that what they went through in that regard was the same. “He was what inspired me to dive into music, in a roundabout sort of way, by being an utter piece of shit.”

“Good, we can agree there.” Elsie laughed at the musician, who responded with a light chuckle and a smile. “So, I guess that's where our paths sort of… separated. I went to war and you went to music.” Elsie grinned a bit as she thought she had figured it out, but still no path back arrived. The two sat in silence for a while before Elsie spoke up this time. “So, do you have a sister?”

“No, do you?” The musician gave her an odd look.

“Yeah, half sister. Vadel. She is a little shit but… she is secretly kind of sweet. Once you get through the hundreds of walls she has put up.” Elsie smiled up at the ceiling. “What about a girlfriend?”

“A what now?” The musician gives Elsie an even odder look this time.

“Oh shit, you don’t even know yet?” Elsie returned the musician’s gaze and attempted to keep a straight face. The poor girl still thought she was straight. ‘You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

“The fel is that supposed to mean?” The musician began to blush just a bit. The sort of blush that Elsie had previously been embarrassed for, but it at least helped her see exactly what was going through this alternate version of herself’s head in this moment.

“So, it's just you?” Elsie again quickly veered the conversation off the subject at hand.

“Yeah, pretty much.” The musician shrugged as she turned to look in the mirror again. Elsie walked up behind her and put a hand on her chair, looking into the mirror with her.

Elsie stared at herself in the reflection for a moment before directing her gaze to the musician. The look of pity that the musician had previously worn when looking at Elsie now rested on Elsie’s face. At first, she was envious of the musician. She had achieved what Elsie couldn’t after all. But, as Elsie thought on the subject longer, it began to dawn on her what she had that this musician didn’t. She wouldn’t give that up for the world, even to achieve her wildest dreams.

The two stared at each other in the mirror in silent contemplation for a while before suddenly a sort of portal opened up behind Elsie, sucking her back in and sending her spiraling through the multiverse once again.

The portal disappeared and the musician turned around. She slowly looked around the room, but Elsie was gone. The musician then turned back around to the mirror and rested her head on her arms. Once again, she was alone.

#mirror season

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thequirkdetective · 4 years

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Investigation 6 (10/7/2020): Hardening – Eijiro Kirishima

This time, we’re going to be tackling a quirk I have been thinking about for a while now; Hardening. This allows Kirishima to “make his entire body [as] hard as a rock”[1]. The quirk is mainly used for defence but does also make Kirishima’s body rough and sharp, which causes his attacks to be more dangerous to opponents. We’ll look at the exact composition of Kirishima’s hardened body, as well as the systems that allow the body parts to both harden and soften.

Firstly, we need to know what Kirishima’s hardened skin is made of, and to do this we need to know how much force it can withstand.

The largest easily measurable force Kirishima withstands is when he is crushed underneath a few robots in the sports festival [1]. It is difficult to tell how many robots of which type(s) he is caught under, but we can do the maths on both types, and see how they compare, starting with the largest robots. These are in fact the same model as the one Deku punched in the entrance exam due to it nearly crushing and killing Uraraka[2] (I’m not sure how UA spun that one in the risk assessment to allow them to make a reappearance). In any case, whatever fate would have befallen Uraraka instead turns its gaze to Kirishima in season 2, but rather than being steamrolled Kirishima instead undergoes the more abrupt and deadly force of a robot in freefall. He survives (unsurprisingly, or this investigation wouldn’t have much data to work with), due to his quirk.

The whole scene plays out with the contestants of the obstacle course race coming across a group of the aforementioned giant robots. Todoroki (no doubt fuelled by chronic daddy issues) freezes the robots and gets through, but makes the decision to freeze them in such positions as to cause them to fall over. Ignoring the rather worrying possibility of Todoroki deliberately killing the entire student body of UA (get mad in the notes), only two people are caught underneath the ensuing pile: Kirishima and Tetsutetsu. The actual moment of impact isn’t shown, but a few seconds afterwards, an unnamed student declares that they see someone trapped in the rubble, and Kirishima bursts upwards in a shower of metal and testosterone, followed closely by Tetsutetsu.

This shows, in the most basic interpretation, that quirked-up Kirishima is harder than a UA robot, since if he were less hard he would be immediately crushed. Sadly, material science is a little more nuanced than that. The exact definition of ‘hardness’ is difficult to pin down, and the stresses would not be equal across Kirishima’s whole body. This blog doesn’t have access to laboratory grade material simulation software (yet), so we can’t see the exact forces involved in a student-robot collision. We can, however, estimate the rough pressures Kirishima’s body withstood after being mercilessly crushed by Todoroki.

There are no viable references for discerning the height of the robots in season 2, so let’s go back to their first appearance in the entrance exam [2]. The scene where Deku punches on of the robots in the face gives us a nice tall building in the background, which we know from earlier is about 15 storeys high (50m or 164ft). Deku jumps upwards until he is level with the robot, and gives the robot a good whack. It topples backwards, his bones shatter, and he is accepted into UA, all due to his incredible feat of self-sacrifice for his love interest. However, in the many, many different shots between the jump and the impact, the height of both the boy and the robot’s head varies from level with the roof to well above any of the surrounding buildings. This is in part due to camera angles and fisheye effects, but whatever the reason it is difficult to say for certain how tall the robot is. Let’s approximate between the two extremes, and say it’s around 55m tall (180ft). The area of the base of the robot is, you guessed it, difficult to get a proper estimate of. This is mostly due to it being framed close-up or surrounded by clouds of ice and dust. Taking this into account, along with the fact that I have strayed way too deep down this rabbit hole, allows us to approximate the robot’s base size as the same as the surrounding buildings’, since it is shown in front of one and nearly blocks it from view. This means the robot is around 15m x 15m x 55m (49ft x 49ft x 180ft). Piling on another wild guesstimate of average density gives us a robot with a mass of ~4000 tonnes (~4400 tons). Now, we can use a bit of physics to figure out the force the robot exerts on Kirishima.

We now need to use what is fast becoming the most useful equation in these investigations: F = ma. We now know m, but we have yet to find a. Fortunately, it has an equation: ΔV/t, or the change in velocity over time. Unfortunately, since the robot topples sideways, we cannot use simple acceleration due to gravity. We have to get velocity in a slightly more roundabout way.

The velocity can be found with two equations, using the principle of conservation of energy (we’re ignoring air resistance, as is traditional in physics). In the process of falling, the robot’s gravitational potential energy gets converted into kinetic energy, and so if we know the amount of energy converted, we can find out the resultant speed. Gravitational potential energy is given by , or mass x gravitational field strength x change in height, all relative to the centre of mass. Pairing this with the kinetic energy equation ( ½mv2, or ½ x mass x velocity squared), and using conservation of energy, we see , so . Rearrange, and voilà: sqrt(2gΔh) (a very nice equation that serendipitously does not contain mass). The robot has a large, heavy base, so lets say the centre of mass starts 20m (66ft) up. Then, the robot falls and the centre of mass ends ~5m (16ft) from the ground. Now we know is 15m (49ft), and is, at least around sea level, 9.8m/s2. Therefore, if a 0-point robot toppled over, it would hit the ground with an average speed of 17m/s (38mph).

Now we can work out , if we approximate the distance it took for the robot to stop. It fell onto soil and kicked up quite a dust cloud, so lets say it embedded 1m down. Assuming uniform deceleration across the 1m of distance, comes to 144.5m/s2, and is a whopping 5.78×108 N, spread over ~750m2 (8073ft2), giving 770667 Pa (112 PSI), or 7.5x atmospheric pressure.

The smaller robots seem to be no more than 10m tall, so the force of their fall is only 10m/s (22mph). This means the force is a measly 50N, and the pressure 0.5Pa (7×10−5 PSI). Now, finally, we can find out what these numbers mean in terms of Kirishima’s quirk.

The pressure would be spread over ~1m2 of Kirishima, meaning the force on him is anywhere from 0.5N to 770667N depending on the type of the robot. The issue with this calculation is that it assumes the fall of both robots is distributed evenly between the ground and Kirishima, so the forces would actually be more in the range of 50N-770667N, the equivalent of balancing a weight on your head with a mass of 5-80000kg (11-176370lbs). A force of 770667N is about the force a house exerts on its foundations, but the shock needs to be taken into account. It’s the difference between having a house resting on concrete, and dropping half the house from 10m onto the same concrete. From this example it becomes rather clear which one does more damage.

Due to this, as well as the sheer magnitude of the resultant forces, we can rule out Kirishima being crushed by the largest robots. Such a robot would flatten almost anything in its path, including Kirishima, no matter what his quirk made his body into. This also explains his quick escape; he was underneath a small robot and only had to dig through a metre (3ft) or so of robot wiring and metal panels.

Kirishima’s quirk is continually compared to rock [1], which to me says silicates. Silicates are the predominant compounds in the earth’s crust, and are mostly responsible for giving rocks their hardness (sorry geologists and material scientists, but I do have to end this somewhere). The question now, as with many other investigations, is where the silicates originate. Many health food such as spinach, soy, and bananas contain high amounts of silicon dioxide, also known as silica or quartz. However, a much more efficient way to increase silica intake is sand. Sand is mostly silicon dioxide, and is also fairly easy to ingest, making it very useful for such purposes as turning into rock at will. We’ll figure out which one Kirishima employs later on.

In the Shie Hassaikai raid, Kirishima’s quirk is shown to deflect a quirk-destroying bullet[3]. These bullets are hollow, and do not cause nearly as much damage as a standard metal bullet so it may not be the case that Kirishima is fully bulletproof. This does make sense; granite shatters easily upon contact with a bullet and the quirk-destroying bullets did not give Mirio an injury comparable to a bullet wound. The ‘bullets’ instead act more like flying syringes. However, Kirishima does also defend against a rapid succession of punches from Kendo Rappa[4] using his quirk. This is again feasible, since it is akin to Rappa successively punching a brick or granite wall. Therefore, Kirishima’s hardened body is made of some silicate, most likely akin to quartz – the primary compound in both granite and sand, with trace amounts present in food.

This means that Kirishima’s body can in some way store silica, and then reconstruct it onto or into the surface of the skin. Silica is notoriously insoluble, only trace amounts dissolving in water or acids, and the main viable solvents for dissolving it being hydrofluoric acid or hot alkaline solutions. It’s the same story for pure silicon. However, if Kirishima’s body were to absorb silicon as an ion (a common way to absorb minerals) then the compound could be made soluble in some interesting ways.

Detergents are used to make oil and grease soluble in water, by having a hydrophobic end that binds to dirt, and a hydrophilic end that is attracted to water. The detergent molecules then surround dirt particles and make them hydrophilic, forcing them into suspension (not technically solution). A similar mechanism could be used to lift silicate ions into suspension in Kirishima’s bloodstream. These would collect in Kirishima’s cells. Then, all it takes is the degradation of the ‘detergent’ molecules to force the silicates out of suspension, where they then crystallise. This essentially turns the inside of Kirishima’s cells into rock, if given a few tweaks.

The first main problem is that the silicate ions would not necessarily create silica unless they were introduced to oxygen ions. This can be fixed by the other chemical required – one to denature the detergent molecules. The whole process involves ionised molecules that bind to silicon ions and bring them into suspension in Kirishima’s blood. They travel to his cells, and collect there. The activation of the quirk is in fact the release of a specialised chemical which breaks down the ionised molecules, releasing the silicon ions. This chemical could then also contains oxygen ions which bond to the silicon, creating silica within Kirishima’s skin cells. Then, when the quirk is deactivated, the silica is broken down and more ionised molecules are released to bring the silicon back into suspension.

The only remaining problem with this system is movement. Turning all of Kirishima’s skin into rock would lock up his joints and prevent him from moving his limbs. The solution to this is leaving some of the skin cells at points of motion un-hardened, allowing certain areas of skin to stretch and flex whilst still gaining some defensive advantages. This does leave Kirishima with a few relative weak points at his shoulders, elbows, knees, and hands, but overall, this mechanism fulfils the brief almost to the letter: turning his body into rock. It also means that it simply strengthens his skin, and does not create a new layer of rock. This has the added benefit of transferring any damage to his hardened form onto his normal body, for example a large chunk of rock being blasted off would leave a large chunk of his flesh missing once the quirk was deactivated.

Finally, we need to establish the source of the silicate ions. It is most likely diet, but is eating silicon-rich foods enough to provide the amount of silicate required?

Kirishima’s quirk manifested when he was quite young [4] , let’s say 3 years old since he can’t remember the event very clearly. At this point just his hand and arm could harden. The amount of silicate required can be calculated by the surface area of the affected area multiplied by the thickness of Kirishima’s skin.

The average surface area of a man’s hand is ~0.1m2 (1sq. ft). Kirishima is a toddler at this point, so a 0.1m2 area would cover his upper arm too, as shown. Skin is around 1mm thick on average, so the volume of silicate required for the first manifestation of his quirk is ~0.26g (0.009oz) of silica, the same amount as present in 40 bananas. This is a very feasible amount of silica to have ingested in three years, and if Kirishima made a habit of eating silica rich foods he could have enough silicon ions to harden his whole body in 10-15 years, depending on the thickness of the hardened skin. This matches with the anime, because his quirk was not very strong and could not activate across his entire body when he was in middle school [4] . In fact, the quirk could even manifest throughout most of Kirishima’s cells, leaving a few un-hardened for movement, and the amount of silica needed would still be plausible to intake over such a time period provided his body’s ability to absorb it.

Another fun effect that corroborates with the source material is silicon-rich foods like spinach being prone to wearing teeth down, possibly leading to the strange, sharp teeth Kirishima possesses. Most likely he has them filed due to their continual wearing.

In summary, Kirishima’s body can absorb silicon ions, using detergent-like ionised molecules to force the ions into suspension. Then, the silicon is carried through the bloodstream to Kirishima’s cells. When his quirk is activated, a molecule, most likely some kind of enzyme, is released that destroys the ions responsible for keeping the silicon atoms in suspension. This causes them to react with the oxygen ions present in the cells and enzyme, creating silicate crystals within Kirishima’s cells. Some muscle cells are left without crystals in order to preserve movement, and some skin cells are kept softened for the same purposes. When the quirk is deactivated, more ionic molecules are released which bring the silicate back into suspension, softening the cells again.

[1] Season 2 Episode 16: In Their Own Quirky Ways

[2] Season 1 Episode 4: Start Line

[3] Season 4 Episode 68: Let’s Go, Gutsy Red Riot

[4] Season 4 Episode 72: Red Riot

If you liked this investigation and want to have a say in the next one, then make sure to send a recommendation for which quirk I should investigate!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #kirishima eijirou #eijirou kirishima #tw: gore #gore mention #quirk investigation #bnha analysis

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