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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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Desexualized Mammy & Strong Black Woman, too busy for “frivolous love”

“Alyse” (Anon Submission) asked:

My science fiction story includes a black woman (Talia) who raises two children that aren’t her own and takes on two young adults as apprentices. One of the children she is raises has Arabic background and was taken into her home upon his father’s death (his mother’s whereabouts are unknown). She was a close friend of his father and the closest thing he had to a relative. The second child has mixed French-Latinx background and was taken in after becoming shipwrecked with no means by which to contact her people. Talia was the first non-hostile individual she encountered and one of the few who would so openly embrace a stranger. Since Talia is Master Medic (the highest medical authority in her community) she is training two apprentices (think residency) and eventually mentors the second child as well. She was once married and passionately in love but lost her husband to illness. In this setting, some technology we take for granted is inaccessible and violence against their people is commonplace. Most have experienced sudden loss. This particular loss was the catalyst that drove Talia into medicine- a desire to protect her loved ones and prevent others from experiencing similar tragedy. She is usually kind (though businesslike) but sometimes succumbs to a frigid, furious depression when, despite all her knowledge and determination, she can’t save someone.

I worry that her maternal association with the two children (one of whom is an outsider) mires her in the mammy trope. On top of that, she hasn’t pursued romance since the death of her husband. I’ve considered giving her a romantic subplot but there are already so many characters to keep track of. Furthermore, I just can’t see her engaging in the frivolous pursuits of new love when she’s dealing with kids, students, and an extremely taxing career.

In terms of race and culture in this story, practically every character can trace their ancestry back to populations displaced through war. Even Talia’s second child was shipwrecked during a botched evacuation from a military science lab. The people who live here have been isolated for generations and no longer have a real concept of their ancestry. Cultures have blended, new religions have formed, and many of our familiar racial/ethnic issues are forgotten. However, new and different but equally toxic ones have replaced them. In this way, Talia’s blackness doesn’t carry the same associations in her world as it would in ours. However, readers may still make these associations. Do you see any issues with her character that I could amend?

So! You have:

A highly educated Black-coded woman (the highest medical authority in the community)

She raises two kids alone

She also looks after two apprentices

She is widowed (not sure the race of the husband, was he Black?)

Having experienced heartbreaking love, Talia's drive to look after, protect and save people through medicine is a great motivation for the way she is. Her experiencing depression and taking losses seriously is also very human and is dynamic characterization.

However, such characterization with Black women is prone to brush across several tropes. You have a Black woman who gives and protects, but what does she get in return? Who cares for her?

Prioritize your Black character’s happiness

"I’ve considered giving her a romantic subplot but there are already so many characters to keep track of. Furthermore, I just can’t see her engaging in the frivolous pursuits of new love when she’s dealing with kids, students, and an extremely taxing career."

Priorities, priorities. Is love a frivolous pursuit in her eyes, or yours? Because I strongly disagree. You probably don't mean to but you, as the author, having an excuse to NOT give the Black woman romance is showing that you do not think she's worth being loved. TV viewers and stans who are uncomfortable when Black women characters have relationships find similar excuses to explain away not wanting BW in relationships.

"She's too strong and independent for a man/relationship"

"I liked her better alone."

"It'll take away from her character."

“A romance doesn’t feel right for her”

These sorts of statements above are grounded in racialized misogyny.

Relationships do not lessen the woman.

Relationships does not lessen Black women.

Love

Whether that love is romantic, familial, or friendship, it can come in many forms. Give Talia love. Because Black women characters deserve it! Either one or all!

Let her have a loyal best friend, a cat, and a girlfriend. Because why not? And not to downplay the love of children to parents, but please provide her love beyond what she gets on a maternal level from the children she looks after.

The stories that Black women are in today severely lack love for us, so why add to the narrative of Black women being all work and no play, and too [insert excuse here] to be loved?

Of course, you didn't provide all the details from your story, but I'm not seeing much of a balance from the struggle. She is a caretaker, teacher, doctor (or doctor-like figure).

Her position and background in itself is okay. It's the Strong Black Woman being presented with seemingly no commentary that strikes me.

Where is her team to help balance the weight of the world?

Who takes care of her when she's depressed from another loss?

What does she get in return from taking an emotional and physical toll to heal her community?

Do those around her recognize all she does for them and offer their friendship?

When does she get to relax and turn off the need to be everything for everybody?

Fitting love into a book with many characters

There are many books with several characters to keep track of. People tend to manage. Also, I'm sure some of those characters are in and/or out of relationships. Even stories that couldn’t be classified as romances have relationships of some sort. It’s unrealistic to have a ton of characters and none of them be in relationship(s) of some sort. Not when there’s so many forms of it and many sexualities.

Friends, frenemies, enemies, romance, affairs.. Relationships make stories (and life) interesting. By no means do I think adding these dynamics harm your tale. And what’s one more for a hard-working Black woman who sacrifices a lot and clearly deserves a shoulder to lean on? And, if you use an existing character to be that friend, family, or lover, then you won’t need to pencil in another character.

For romance specifically - I think a misconception when it comes to including romance in stories is that they have to somehow take over the story. Romance does not have to bombard the plot nor be described in lavish detail. Not every story is a romance and those sort of details aren’t everyone’s style or things they’re comfortable with. A sentence or two establishing relationships does not take away from the story.And how those relationships look and affections expressed will vary based on the characters, sexuality, etc.

Not every character needs to have a deep level of detail.

“Katie and Lisa, a newly engaged couple, walked into the meeting.”

“Jack and Jamie are a married couple in their 40s.”

“The two met in college. After two months of blissful courtship, they eloped, eager to start their happily ever afters. Twenty years together, they were still blissfully in love and never too far from one another.”

Sentences like the above are enough for some characters. You don’t always need to put in paragraphs worth of relationship-establishing details or plot.

When it comes to the characters whose love you would like to highlight, at least a bit, you still don’t have to go over the top.

Use subtle details.

“As soon as Talia’s back was turned, he gave her a longing look before shaking his head and getting back to the patient.”

“He squeezed her hand before taking hold of the stethoscope.”

“She kissed her wife goodbye before racing out the door.”

“You mean the world to me.” he had said, holding her face. Those words stayed with her all day, making her heavy load light as a sack of feathers.

“She soaked his shirt with her tears and he just held her tight, saying nothing, silently holding her together.”

As for Talia specifically…

Talia having the mindset you described, as love being frivolous and not a priority, is understandable knowing her background (I just don't agree with you as the creator using this as a means to keep her alone. Whether she’s romantically alone or without close friendships). She has lost so much, and continues to experience loss with patients. This can be extremely traumatizing. I gave some examples of being subtle, so perhaps that will help with the burden of feeling a thick subplot of romance doesn’t fit in your story.

And as Talia doesn’t strike me as someone who would go looking for companionship, what if she stumbles upon it without trying? Is there someone on the medical team that can offer her friendship? Someone who admires her and feels the urge to care for her that she feels the same for, or has pushed feelings down for? What happens when she can’t hold those feelings down anymore?

Takeaway

Talia deserves healthy love, even if she doesn’t believe it or feel she has time for it. That love can come in any and many forms, not necessarily romantically required, although it is a plus. A struggle-ridden novel is balanced by love, support and rest for characters that hold the weight of the world. If you do not, evaluate why you want to write Black characters in these struggle roles without at least a social commentary.

~Mod Colette

#Black women #Strong Black Woman #Mammy #relationships #romance #asks

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traumatictouch · 3 years

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why tomura reads like a sexual abuse survivor

ive noticed that a lot of survivors - including me - easily read tomura as a csa survivor. ive decided to try to put these impressions into words, mostly for myself, but also for anyone curious as to why he’s so frequently read this way, or why i personally write him as such. i will mostly be elaborating on the reoccurring sexual assault imagery and csa survivor traits tomura exhibits.

triggering themes ahead, including discussed child sexual abuse, incest (sibling and pseudo), trauma and its effects, and sexual assault imagery (from the bnha manga itself). also spoilers for the most recent manga arc.

(disclaimer: i realize symptoms of trauma are pretty much common all across the board, and depression also comes with a lot of these behaviors - but there are some that crop up more commonly in cases of sexual abuse (especially from a young age) than in others. csa survivors also frequently end up with depression, too, so that doesn't necessarily take away from it.)

i’ll start with the cover above. the hands touching him here are much more expressive than the ones he usually wears. it's also framed in a way where you can't see the ends/cap things very well, and they don't appear so symmetrical, making them feel much more like real, living hands grabbing him.

there's also the fact that his face is exposed, which is something we had rarely seen him do willingly at this point in the manga, and even when he had he was still covered up with a hoodie or completely alone. the way he's covering half his face gives off the impression that he's not okay with the way he's exposed.

all of that, plus the obvious distress tomura is in, gives this very glaring assault vibes.

also, the hands on his head are clearly someone's actual, living hands as well. my guess is afo, especially since they seem to be petting him, which is reoccurring imagery between tomura and afo.

tomura's total lack of privacy

there's a clear lack of boundaries between tomura and the adults in his life. most of the spaces that seem to belong to tomura (the bar - he feels safe enough there to take Father off, and his room) are accompanied by cameras and audio transmissions from afo. he has no privacy, and doesn't even seem bothered by this fact.

he also doesn't seem to set boundaries with other people in general. toga can hold a knife to his neck, spinner can grab him and yell in his face, the doctor can shout over his earpiece, dabi (or anyone, really) can say whatever rude or callous things he wants to him… really the only time i can think of that even comes close was when mr. compress made a joke about working with overhaul and tomura said "hey, not funny."

he seems to kinda just let whatever happen to him. earlier in the series, tomura seemed to rely on kurogiri to notice when he needed space and step in for him rather than ask for it himself. that's a pretty telltale sign of someone who's had their needs and boundaries violated (or even punished) for a long time.

Tomuras over-attachment to afo and his praise/affection

obviously afo groomed tomura whether it involved sexual abuse or not, but it is something that could have easily lended itself to that as well. early in the series, tomura clearly highly valued afos opinion of him, and seemed to strive to please and repay him for his kindness. these are feelings afo incited in him on purpose and did, canonically, take advantage of to turn tomura into a villain and pawn - who's to say he didn't use it for other purposes, too?

it's also the kind of thing survivors tend to latch onto to cope with their abuse. it can be easier to think of the event as being affection, returning a favor, and/or special treatment, than to think of it as abuse. tomura looked up to afo so much that it's possible he could have considered (or been convinced) that it was special that someone as great as afo wanted to do something so intimate with him.

also, if this is really tomura realizing his sensei isn't as special and powerful as he'd been led to believe, then his reaction being to cover up while looking angry might, well… be a reaction to feeling used.

Tomura & older men

there's not a lot of people besides afo that tomura seems very quickly, openly… invested in. there are two major ones i can think of, and they are both 1. older men, and 2. mentor figures (even if not to tomura.)

the most obvious of the two is aizawa, who tomura has seemed pretty fond of since his first appearance and, even in the most recent chapters, can't seem to help but think about how cool aizawa is. aizawa isn't a mentor to tomura, obviously, but he is a teacher and tomura knows this. (and seems impressed by the way he tries to protect the students in his care--something afo very specifically does not do for tomura.)

the second, and perhaps less obvious to most, is Stain. i wrote up a whole post trying (trying.) to explain the way tomura seemed interested in him, and you can see a bit more about that and how tomura was hoping he'd be a mentor to him here.

in other words, tomura has shown reoccurring interest in older men, who are mentors, that he does not show for anyone else.

early sexual abuse can influence a person's attractions. survivors tend to be drawn to what is familiar, even if it hurt, and so it's pretty common for them to be attracted to and/or desire a relationship with those who resemble their abuser(s).

and afo is an older man who is a mentor to tomura (and others.)

immaturity (& age regression)

tomura, in early canon, is often described by characters in-universe as being childish, especially in regards to how he processes his emotions. (i don't really like to conflate these things with "age" or "being childish" - but the way the manga itself presents these qualities is clearly intended to give tomura a immature/childish vibe.)

tomura's emotional processing, simple motivations, fixation with video games, toys littering his room, and need for close caregiving (kurogiri) all give off the impression that he's had trouble developing the way he "”should”" have--kind of like he didn't really move on at all.

this sort of stunted development tends to occur in people with childhood trauma, especially csa survivors. ptsd at its core is the brain getting "stuck" in the moment of trauma, so if the trauma occurred as a child, then one's development is somewhat halted there, especially in areas of emotional processing, because the brain and body have to dedicate so much energy to just trying to cope and survive. it's pretty common for csa survivors to have trouble coping with and controlling their emotions.

relatedly: i have no real way to confirm this right now, but i’ve heard that during the mla arc, while tomura was kind of going in and out of flashbacks, he started switching to using “boku” - a self pronoun for young boys - as opposed to his usual “ore”). ive since had to wonder if this is a reoccurring state for tomura - it might partly explain why he keeps his toys around despite never showing interest in them on-screen, and has such close supervision from kurogiri.

again, age regression can go for any kind of childhood trauma, but seems very common in child sexual abuse survivors in particular.

Lack of hygiene (esp oral)

look at how tomura's teeth are drawn compared to even another villains. dabis teeth are straight and clean, whereas tomura's have holes and chips, and tend to be drawn uneven with wobbly lines, like they're covered in plaque.

not caring for one's hygiene is common for people with depression too - but failure to care for teeth also frequently crops up in survivors of sexual abuse, due to an aversion to things touching or being inside their mouth, because it can remind them of the abuse.

in a similar vein, tomura's hair looks unwashed and greasy to me, especially when it gets long. it sort of gathers in clumps and appears heavy. survivors may avoid taking showers because they aren't comfortable removing their clothes for long periods of time, or because the abuse occurred in proximity to bathing. (which is a convenient time for parental figures to groom and abuse their children, since it already involves them being naked and the parent touching them closely.)

in general, there just seems to be something off about tomura's relationship with his body. maybe it's the way he barely bats an eye at major injuries, doesn't care for his hygiene, self-injures, and didn't mind undergoing a surgery that altered its shape and function pretty heavily--but i get the impression that tomura sees his body as just a tool more than anything.

which, if someone grew up having their body regarded as nothing but a means of pleasure, kind of makes sense.

his clothing

im not sure if this has the same “connotations” (for lack of a better word) for flat chested people, but tomura always wearing a lowcut shirt that shows off a fair amount of his chest, but covering the rest of himself head to toe--including his face--feels significant to me. as well as the way he covers up even more (his hoodie) when he’s stressed. the hands, too--being covered up seems to be calming for him.

the placement of the hands afo gave him

you can't tell me little tenko placed these hands where they are by himself. the ones on his chest aren’t even from his family or meant to resemble them - they’re additional hands afo gave him to wear. pretty weird place for “afo”’s hands to go...

I feel like theres a little bit something to tomura frequently having his clothes ripped off during fights

not that it's particularly uncommon for bnha characters to get their clothes a bit shredded during fights, but i can't help but feel like there's something to tomura getting torn down to nothing but his pants twice, with both battles heavily involving tomura's traumas, including the ones related to afo. the vs mla arc with how tomura met afo and how he turned him into what he is today, then the war arc where the methods afo used to control and abuse tomura (the hands) are brought back again--and afo repeatedly takes tomura's bodily autonomy away from him.

AFO's predatory behaviors

tomuras own behavior aside, All For One himself has some behaviors and imagery that gives off very predatory vibes. i’ll start with Ragdoll…

most people theorize that she was going to be turned into a nomu, but there are two important things here. ragdoll was found 1. alive, and 2. naked. all nomu are made from corpses - if afo had time to take her quirk and undress her, he certainly had time to kill her, especially since three days had passed since she was kidnapped. (and, what benefit would there be to making a nomu out of a quirkless hero?)

her dazed state is also curious - we've never been told taking or giving quirks has a side effect like this, and i would think itd at least wear off after three days…

there's also not actually a lot to suggest she was submerged in one of the tanks (that i know of); in the full body image, she doesn't seem to be soaking wet or anything. there's no water dripping off her. there's just a bit of liquid on her face and neck, which could merely be sweat, or… other fluids.

this next part is more debatable due to it being more dubiously canon (although My Hero: One’s Justice has been known to basically spoil villain related lore before it appears in the manga) - but he has some dialogue that makes him sound... pretty fuckin enthusiastic about sexual violence.

and time and time again, afo has been... very creepy and obsessive about his brother. who happens to look an awful lot like tomura, and is vaguely connected to nana as a user of OFA, and we know how far afo would go to spite both of them.

The "wow this is pretty much confirmed now" page

i always thought i was just projecting when i read tomura as a csa survivor - until i saw this page, which was so viscerally uncomfortable that it made me nauseous. it definitely made me decide i wasn't just reading into things that weren't there. that's not exactly to say this panel 100% confirmed it (though it certainly did in my mind, personally) -- but the imagery here can't not be deliberate.

tomura is literally shirtless and bent over before afo, and sure, afos not completely standing behind him, but that's partially because his lower half is inside of tomura. and from our previous example of afo taking over tomura's body…

i wish i could find the translation i first saw - this is the viz translation, which is notoriously horrible - but the one i read felt much more along the lines of "i saved you, so i get to do what i want with your body."

that is a line of logic that could have EASILY applied to their earlier relationship. the way afo saved tenko was very much on the forefront of tomura's mind early in the series, possibly either an idea he clung onto to justify the abuse he experienced from afo, or something afo personally reminded him of frequently.

also… part of afos body is definitely wrapped around tomura's upper thigh, and in certain panels seems to be emanating from between his legs.

speaking of, tomura's stance is also notable to me. compared to the panel where tomura first realized afo was taking control of him, where his knees are pretty straight on or outwards in a powerful balanced brace, in these panels his knees seem to be bending in towards his body, like he wants to squeeze his legs shut. huh.

i touched on this before, but it's interesting to me that what finally let afo fully take control of tomura's body, was having a hand (one afo very specifically used to control and abuse tomura into doing what he wanted) placed upon his body without permission.

so, all in all, afo is "inside" tomura's body, using it for his own means, against tomura's wishes.

what else does that sound like? no wonder deku feels like tomura needs help, despite everything...

again, this isn't to say that csa is definitely the cause of these things, just that tomura does have an abundance of behaviors and imagery that could easily be read that way.

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Tenko Shimura #boku no hero academia #all for one #afo bnha #bnha #long post #ITS FINALLY HERE #i did my best i hope it makes sense #csa tw #child abuse tw #meta #ooc

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perpetual-help · 3 years

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If I might ask, how did you return to Holy Mother Church?

Well, the short answer would be by the graces won for me by The Blessed Mother. I owe everything to her intercession.

I was a cradle Catholic who fell away from the Church during my later teenage years. I abandoned God out of anger and also out of a growing curiosity in the occult. I studied and practiced (and eventually mentored in) witchcraft for about six years. Towards the end of the six years, my pursuits into witchcraft grew darker and more sinister. To give you an example of the mindset I was spiraling towards - back then, I was becoming more acquainted with groups who condoned human sacrifice / cannibalistic rituals / cursing for the pleasure of causing chaos and misery / knowingly working with demons. I thank God that I was spared from going any further in these groups than simply learning what they do or what they encourage to be done through text, and nothing more.

I met someone I will call “H” through a mutual friend (in person.) My first impression of H wasn’t a very good one, given that I could tell from our first interaction that H was a Christian. Back then, I could differentiate between Christians and non-Christians by the feeling of the air that would surround them, and if I found them to be Christian, there would be an immediate swelling of hatred towards them. I had a tarot reading done for H and I to see whether it would be worthwhile to humor a friendship with a Christian, and the person who gave the reading claimed that H and I were actually soulmates. I took this seriously and decided that, since H and I were apparently connected in such a way, I had to make an effort towards H’s wellbeing, even if it never led to anything romantic. H attended a small Pentecostal church that would post its service online, and I would occasionally watch some of the sermons in order to mock and laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They would “speak in tongues,” give “words” to people, run around in “the spirit,” and do other things that I found stupid but thoroughly amusing. My interest was especially piqued by the idea of “speaking in tongues” - because, when some of them would “speak in tongues,” I could understand what they were saying. (More on my present thoughts about this later)

H suffered from depression, which I considered a blight to the both of us, given that we were allegedly soulmates. One Sunday, H said they did not want to go to church because of the depression, and so I offered to go with them, knowing that they would leap at the opportunity to drag a heathen to church. On my way to the church, the voices I recognized as my “spirit guides” at the time were leaving me with strong internal impressions such as: “He is going to say that your chains are breaking, ignore him.” And “he is going to single you out, don’t fall for it.” My answer to these impressions was “fine.”

When I entered the Church, I felt an immediate repulsion. People were dancing and singing pop worship songs, and I internally questioned why I had chosen to do this. Sure enough, the pastor did single me out. Most of what he said to me could be attributed to cold reading, but it was entertaining. I was told “Your chains are breaking. You wear your past bad relationship like a scarlet letter on your forehead.” and “You’re going to meet a Godly man and your relationship will be like out of movie. When you do, cling to him.” I’m not sure how to describe some of the sensations I felt during parts of the service. At times, I felt like my skin was crawling, or like my skin was burning, and other times as though my throat were closing and I was being choked. I initially brushed these feelings off and tried to convince myself that it was social anxiety, but that experience lingered with me even after the service. H and I talked a lot after church, mostly about the Bible and different parts in the scripture. I had a lot of questions and H was kind enough to offer loving and well-thought-out answers. I went home and cried, and it was the first time I had properly cried in several years. I wasn’t sure why I cried at first, but the day’s events recurred in my mind’s eye and I recalled how horrible I’d felt while people worshipped around me. At that moment, I genuinely wanted to know the truth - I wanted to know whether God was real. And, if He was real, I wanted to know whether He would help me. So, I prayed. I asked God this: “If you are real, please touch my heart so that I know.” Immediately, I enveloped by this warmth and peace, and something I can only think to describe as perfect love and tranquility. My heart felt this so intensely that it seemed to be overflowing in and through me, and I wept. I only then was able to realize how absolutely miserable and exhausted and anxious and depressed and wrathful I had been for so long. I wept, and I promised to give myself entirely to God. In return, I asked Him to help me to become a servant pleasing to Him - to love Him more, always. The demons I once considered my “spiritual guides” and “deities” showed their true colors after this experience. I would say, for the first year of my conversion, I was tormented a lot in different ways - but especially in my dreams, and by feelings of intense anxiety and despair that would be thrown upon me out of nowhere and that coupled with the sensation that the walls were closing in. The voices and impressions I once recognized as “friends” started to say things like “you can’t be saved, you’ve already given yourself to us.” among other lies. These torments continue today, and in other ways, but they aren’t as constant as they were towards the beginning.

I threw away six years worth of junk I had acquired which left my room essentially empty, but it was a liberating feeling. I started to attend the Pentecostal church, but my time there didn’t last. They hosted a woman who called herself a prophetess who spoke in tongues, but what she would say would be blasphemies. People would shout “amen” and “alleluia” to these utterances, and I began to understand that this group didn’t know how to discern the spirit. The breaking point for me was when the pastor claimed that Jesus had to learn how to perform miracles - that, and, the glaringly obvious inconsistencies between his sermons and scripture. There was an unhealthy focus on titles of ministries and “what God can do for your health and wealth.”

I lasted three months at that church before it clicked in my head that the Catholics were right. This, was also in part due to my rediscovery of the Bible verses that referred to Jesus’ command to eat His flesh and drink His blood, and a dream that followed. So, I went to confession for the first time in probably 8 or more years. It was a frightening experience and I cried during the entire confession like the wimp I am, but the liberation I felt afterwards far outweighed it all. A couple of days after my confession, I attended Mass with my mother. During the Transubstantiation, while the Priest held up The Body and Blood of Our Lord, I smelled a strong incense. I only noticed the smell because I normally disliked Church incense for how strong it is, but this one, while it was strong and impossible to ignore, it was the most beautiful smell I’ve ever encountered. (There was more crying) After Mass, I asked my mom whether she knew what kind of incense they used, and she deadpanned “They didn’t burn incense.”

Now that I have had more time to process the beginnings of my conversion and especially my encounters at the Pentecostal church, I am of the impression that I was able to understand their “tongues” because it was demons speaking through them. I’m aware that there’s a Charismatic Movement of Catholics who also claim to speak “in the tongues” but I am always wary of such claims, and I avoid such practices like the plague.

God is so merciful and so loving, and my entire life is a testament to this. I did nothing but offend Our Lord and hate all things good and Holy, but still, He called out to me and saved me from the miserable state of death I hadn’t realized I was in. All Glory to God.

As St. Germanus of Constantinople said: ”There is no one, O Most Holy Mary, who can know God except through thee; no one who can be saved or redeemed but through thee, O Mother of God; no one who can be delivered from dangers but through thee, O Virgin Mother; no one who obtains mercy but through thee, O Filled-With-All-Grace!”

For this reason, I also attribute these great graces given to me by the intercession of Our Blessed Mother, and I owe her nothing less than my life in return for this favor she has shown me.

I hope my answer has satisfied the question without being too tedious.

God bless you, and keep you.

#catholic #roman catholic #catholic witch #christian witch #christian #witchcraft #conversion #ask

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0nerd-at-heart0 · 3 years

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How We Got Here

not my gif

A/N: still working on other stories, but had a dream about this so I had to write it.

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: fluff and angst

You had an itch, a problem per se. You needed everyone to like you. So you tried really hard. To smile, be happy, be likable.

You never faced a problem of someone not liking you, at least not until recently. Not until you met the one and only Steve Rogers. Or how you liked to call him Mr. Perfect. Perfect in the way he smiles. Perfect in the way he cares. Perfect in the way he is America's golden boy. You two could have been friends. Maybe if the situation was different.

You joined the avengers not so long ago. With your training as an agent and your bad-ass powers of mind-control. You were the best candidate to join the elite superheroes. Besides all that you had a talent. A talent with technology.

Your obsession began when you accidentally broke your dad’s computer at the age of 12. You were so determined to put it back together before he could find out. In doing so you used some spare parts from your also broken Nintendo console and upgraded his computer. You were considered a prodigy from that point.

A plan was set for you. You were going to become a computer engineer. With the support of your parents, you continue your studies all through college. And a month before graduation Hydra found you.

They wanted you and they werent going to stop until they had you. Your parents so valiantly fought them. But at the end, they lost the battle and you, well you lost your parents.

Hydra had a hold of you. They experiment on you like crazy. You were going to be their new super weapon. As much as they tried to turn you. You wouldnt let them, you would be their rag doll to use and abuse. You weren’t about to let your parents die in vain for you to become a monster.

What felt like centuries of being locked up were actually a month. A month when Nick Fury came bursting in and saved you. After a much needed shower and sleep, Fury and you had a chat.

You didnt know how to repay him for what he had done for you, you should have chosen better words than that. Because sooner or later he was asking to train you, use your powers for good. How could you say no to the man who saved you?

Two years of training, Fury took you to meet the Avenger. You arent going to lie, you fangirled hard over them. They were all so welcoming. Even Steve.

Fury made it your new assignment to learn from them, which meant you were going to be staying in the compound.

It was a lot to get used to. You mostly stayed by Wanda’s side. Occasionally you and Peter would train together. Tony was more of a mentor. And Nat loved playing around with your powers. But Steve and you had never had a chance to interact other than the welcoming party.

You really wanted to be friends with him. There was so much you wanted to say but always bite your tongue when he’s around. A friendship could blossom or better yet could have.

The possibility of a relationship flew out the window when he overheard a conversation you had with Tony one early morning. You wanted to give the compound a technical upgrade. Including everyone suits and equipment. Tony was intrigued, not because he never thought of that because he has, but because of how bold you were.

You had so much faith in your skills and Tony respected that. He agreed to let you mess around with some of the equipment for starters. You were smiling, you were excited like a child who had too much candy and was on a sugar high. But that sugar high came crashing down as soon as Steve made his appearance.

How could you forget the conversation. The way he yelled.

“Excuse you! You can't just come in here and demand for change. Our dynamic works, it has worked for a while. I dont know who you think you are but you dont get to mess with our equipment and you certainly dont get to mess with MY team”

His voice rang throughout the whole compound and the image of his nostrils flaring as he yelled haunted you for weeks.

It still haunts you. You hate being yelled at. Tony told you to ignore him, that he is too “perfect” for his own good, but even all perfect people have their flaws and his way technology. Hence the name Mr. Perfect.

Tony and the rest of the gang kept encouraging your journey well all except Steve. Your fighting got better and you were proud to say you were finally in control of your power.

It was their pleasure to finally declare you one of them. As you all party Steve stood there scowling. Not even Bucky could wipe that scowl off his face as he had a mouth full of cherries.

You weren’t going to let him get the better of you. If he wanted to be snarky you would be snarky. If he wanted to be cold you would be cold.

That became your new routine. He pushed you, you pushed back harder. From bumps in the hallways to calling him Mr. Perfect every time you can.

The team thought you guys would get over this, that over time you two would learn to get along. But you were always at each other's throats. Missions become harder and harder when there’s a constant argument.

You werent like this. You knew that but that man was just too infuriating to do nothing about it.

Currently you were on a way back from a mission with Nat. You two were sent to stop a shipment of guns from being delivered. As smoothly as it was going, Steve was on the comms just nagging how it should have been him and Nat out there. You turned off your comms, knowing the earful you are going the get when you arrive back.

As you walked into the kitchen, there was Steve nursing a glass of what seemed to be bourbon and tapping his foot. You knew what was going to happen.

Nat made a B-line for her room, not wanting to hear the argument that's about to go down.

You stood in the middle of the room thinking of all the comebacks you can. Ready to fire at any moment. Steve stood up from his seat and made his way towards you. His jaw was set and his fists were clenched.

He stalked over you and you suddenly felt small. His stare was burning through you, you have never seen him like this. You looked down at your feet but Steve stopped that movement and he grabbed your chin with his hand forcefully to make you look at him.

With your chin in his hand he had a full view of your face. As he looked at you, his demeanor changed. The tension in his body was gone, the look on his face soften and the force in his hand was replaced with a gentle touch.

“ Who?”, he asked.

You were confused, “ who what?”

“ The bruise under your eye, who did that”, he asked, a little more annoyed this time.

He noticed the bruise? It's so small it doesnt even hurt, you forgot it even happened.

“ Oh, that bruise. The mob boss Sergio showed up. It surprised us and in our state of surprise he sucker punched me in the face and got away. But dont worry we got control of the shipment, we will get him eventually”, you stammer out.

He lets go of your face and takes out his phone. He turns around, “ Tony, yes it's me. Apparently Sergio, the mob boss got away. I need all focus on him, can you do that? Okay thanks!”

“ What was that”, you surprisingly ask.

His focus goes back to you, “ No one hurts my team and gets away with it”

He turns around to walk away. But stops in his tracks when he hears you murmur, “ You hurt me everyday with your words''

He goes back towards you. “ My words are never meant to hurt you, Y/N,”

“ But they have, since the moment we met. I let it happen but then I had enough and started to talk back. If one thing I learned from my parents is to always fight back”, you quietly stated. Looking down at your feet shifting weight from one foot to another.

All that energy to fight back was gone. You needed answers.

He grabbed your face, cradling it between his two hands. This time there was no force but it was a touch so soft, so warming, so welcoming.

“ No words can describe how sorry I am. I let my emotion get the better of me. You joined the team and you were everything I am not. The person I am is thanks to a serum. But you, you have it all. You have the strength, the smarts and the beauty”, he sincerely apologizes.

“ Beauty?” you question looking into his eyes. Using his eyes are filled with what looks like hate, but right now they are filled with something more, could it be love?

“ I dont deserve this but if you allow me”, he asks, leaning closer.

You know what he is asking and you too want it. The ball is in your court. You move your body closer to him and he takes that as an indication to smash his lips onto yours.

The kiss starts off rough, like you are in need of each other. But it becomes softer and more passionate. An apology in itself. Both of you cant and wont pull away. You were deprived of each other for so long.

Now you knew, Steve Rogers did like you. Maybe a little more than you would ever imagine.

#captain america #steve rogers #avengers #marvel #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #fanfic

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buffintruder · 4 years

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can you imagine what the untamed would have been like from Lan Sizhui’s pov because that would have been so funny

like first of all, you’re just going about your regular business, hunting evil spirits with your squad, and you meet this guy who used to be part of the Jin sect but got kicked out and apparently is crazy and always wears a mask? but he’s also clearly being mistreated by his family, and you know that whatever got him kicked out, he does not deserve this humiliation and abuse

you feel sorry for him, even when he stomps a spirit-summoning flag into the ground and runs unprotected into the middle of a fight and generally causes mild distress and irritation to your fellow juniors.

except then it turns out he actually seems quite competent and he even figures out a lot of what’s going on with the goddess statue, and sure he has weird habits, but he is nothing like how Jin Ling describes his bastard uncle. also maybe he summoned and sent away the Ghost General with his flute? but that’s impossible because the Ghost General should be ash, and anyway, the only one who could control the Ghost General was—

And that’s not even the weirdest part, because then Hanguang Jun arrives. You are certain the two of them have not been close in the past, because surely he would have mentioned it, and besides, when would their paths even have crossed?

But Hanguang Jun is your adopted father/mentor figure, and even though he has shown you nothing but kindness, you know how stoic and reserved he is to the rest of the world. Yet he treats Mo Xuanyu with a care you have never seen him offer to anyone besides yourself and his brother. He is never like this around strangers, and you don’t understand what is going on.

(edit: now on ao3)

You part ways, then meet back up again not too long afterwards, and any pretense Hanguang Jun might have had at not being incredibly close to Mo Xuanyu dissolves. When they fight together at Yi City, there is a familiarity in the ease of their movements, the way they never have to look to make sure the other has his back. Sometimes when Hanguang Jun looks at Mo Xuanyu, you see more open emotion than you possibly have ever seen before. Hanguang Jun never flinches away from Mo Xuanyu’s touch.

Any pretense Mo Xuanyu might have had at being anything less than an expert cultivator also vanishes. He slips into the role of mentor and protector with ease, joking to keep all of you calm while he teaches you how to save your lives, always putting your safety above his. You wonder if it would be weird to consider a near-stranger fatherly.

He feeds your poisoned fellow Juniors ridiculously spicy congee, and it does cure them, despite all their complaining about how it murdered their mouths. You had tasted some when helping him make it, but even with how strongly it burned your tongue, there was a strange part of you liked it. For some reason it taste familiar, like home somehow, even though you have lived in the Lan sect for as long as you can remember and they only have bland, spiceless food.

That’s when the memories begin coming back, slow and weak, like a faint flute melody in the wind, too quiet to fully make out.

You do not remember your early childhood. This is hardly an unusual phenomenon, but you still feel its loss. You were not always a Lan. That development came when you were around four or five, according to what others have told you. Four seems an old enough age that you always thought that you should have at least some idea of what happened before, but you never have.

But now you have the faint impression of a different vendor in a different city selling a similar grass butterfly to the one you bought on impulse despite being far too old for toys. You think of the familiarity of congee, of the reedy melody you heard the night you met Mo Xuanyu and then again as the Ghost General stopped attacking the juniors and ran off into the trees. You have a handful of clues, but they paint no coherent picture.

These thoughts haunt you for three months, but since Mo Xuanyu returns to Cloud Recesses as you continue on your night hunts, there is nothing but the occasional sparks of familiarity around random items or phrases to fill in the missing parts.

And then the word comes out that Mo Xuanyu is actually Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, the founder of demonic cultivation. This is the man who killed thousands, who betrayed the clans, who murdered his own family, including the parents of your—your friend? the boy you’ve run into a few times and survived life-or-death situations with?

Except when everybody else reacts with anger and fear, you... don’t. You can’t explain why, but the name Wei Wuxian brings an echo of comfort, half buried under all the horrible stories you’ve heard about him.

Part of you wonders if it has anything to do with the whispers of memories, that faint deja vu that has started haunting you. Or maybe it’s the way that Hanguang Jun has always turned sad at the mention of Wei Wuxian, how he never speaks a bad word about him despite their alleged rivalry. All your fellow juniors are terrified and furious and hurt at having been deceived, at having grown to like this eccentric man who teased them and saved their lives then turned out to be the monster from all their childhood bedtime stories, and even though you understand them, you feel none of that.

He saves all of you not too long afterwards, and you can’t say you are surprised. Even when all evidence pointed to him being the one to trap you and your friends in a cave for days, it never seemed quite right to you.

It was a set up you learn, as he and Hanguang Jun and the Ghost General save you from an army of corpses and reveal the true traitor. All those terrible deeds you’ve spent your whole life hearing about are not explained away, but this one is, and you have faith that Wei Wuxian is not the villain everyone has made him out to be.

His Ghost General, Wen Ning, certainly isn’t. A living corpse who has slaughtered armies sounds terrifying, but in reality he’s rather sweet. There is something so soft and hopeful in his eyes as he approaches you and asks you for his name. Your friends keep their hands on their swords, but you offer him a smile and an answer. There’s something familiar about him too.

Maybe that’s why you talk to him, despite the intense look in his eyes. Or maybe because he seemed so sad, alone, separated from everyone else, and the intensity seems anything but dangerous. “You—look like my cousin,” he says, and you start to wonder, everything so close to sliding into place.

You don’t know who your parents are or where you came from, but there is something about the clan name Wen that feels so close to something right, despite all the tales you’ve heard about the destruction they wrought.

Then he gives you a grass butterfly, so similar to the one you bought at the market, so similar to something you know was important to you long ago. And like one last pebble taken out from the base of a wall, this small token brings everything above it crumbling down, and suddenly the memories start spilling in. You look at him properly now, because this was your relative, and you once lived with and played with him. He sees the recognition in your eyes, you know, because he steps forward, trembling.

Of course, Jin Ling has to ruin the moment, but now that you know, there is nothing in the world that could keep you from talking to him and finding out more. You were a Wen, you think. You must have been raised in the Burial Grounds by Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch. You were one of the people he betrayed all the clans to protect. No wonder you never feared the stories of the monstrous Wens and Yiling Patriarch. How could you when they were your family, when you were one of them?

You never could have lived among the Lan Sect if people knew, so you understand why it had to remain a secret.

Still. You have to know more.

“Did Master Wei really put a five year old child in the soil like a turnip?” you ask Wen Ning, at the nearest opportunity. That child was you, and both of you know it, even if you can’t say it out loud, not this close to all these people who would be willing to turn on Wei Wuxian on any excuse, who would be willing to turn on you if they knew the truth.

Wen Ning smiles and nods, and there is more life in the glow of his eyes than any corpse has the right to have. “Just like this!” he says, gesturing, as sparks of memory come back even stronger than before.

And then of course everything goes wrong. Wen Ning throws you into the temple where all the leaders of the four main clans plus Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun and a few others are. Jin Guangyao is holding a thread around your friend’s (you think you can call him your friend by now) throat and there is blood, and so many secrets spilled, confessions made.

In the midst of it all, you see Wei Wuxian for the first time since you started to remember, and now there are more memories, sharper, clearer. You remember his spicy congee, the toy butterfly so similar to the ones you hold now that Hanguang Jun bought for you that day Wei Wuxian took you out into the city. Back then, you hadn’t really understood the significance of all those things, why you lived on a mountain full of buried bones, why Wei Wuxian hadn’t bought that toy himself, but now you are older and you know some of the history behind it. Not all of it, you are sure, since so many assumptions of the past have just been proven wrong tonight, and the history you were told had never mentioned the existence of a small child among the supposedly evil remnants of the Wen clan.

You do not know the full truth, but you want to.

Even once everything is over, with the enemies dead and gone, there are a million things going on, relationships being broken or repaired for the first time in over a decade, injuries to be treated, people to reassure that you are okay, that you made it out alive. It takes a bit for you to peel away from everything, to speak to Wei Wuxian, but you find Wen Ning, and the two of you manage to catch up before Wei Wuxian and Hanguang Jun can go far.

Your thoughts and memories are still chaotic and scattered, little bursts of images and sensations that only barely form a coherent picture. But you summon all your determination, sixteen years of questions that are now clamoring for answers in your brain. You take a deep breath. “I have something important that I must ask you.”

Your heart is pounding, and in the past few days, you have faced an army of fierce corpses and fought against the Ghost General (for which he has apologized a thousand times) and helped confront a master manipulator, and somehow this is the most terrifying thing you have done. You are so sure of the truth, but some part of you doubts. How can you truly be sure when you were so young? And even if the man in front of you helped raise so long ago, how can you know if he still has any affection for you, that he is willing to recognize you? These are irrational fears, you know, but they weigh heavily.

Still, you meet his gaze with eyes that are already starting to water and begin to speak of your long-buried memories, the words spilling out with more and more ease as you continue to talk, as his expression changes from confusion to something full of grief and slow realization.

“Wen was my surname,” you say, now confident of this fact, your previous doubts melted away in the face of Wei Wuxian’s teary eyes.

He looks away, blinking as if he can’t believe it and mutters, “Wen was your surname? Isn’t Lan your surname? Lan Sizhui... Lan Yuan... Lan Yuan.” Then he looks up at you with so much hope, full of a scared longing that you know is the same as what fills your own heart. “A-Yuan.”

It has been a lifetime since you last heard your name called out in that voice, and you wonder how you could have gone so long without even knowing you were missing it. You nod. Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes, but you can’t be bothered to fight them.

You can tell it doesn’t seem quite real to him, the way he looks so afraid to believe it. He thought you were dead this whole time, you realize when he turns to Hanguang Jun for confirmation. And that breaks your heart a little more. He had lost so much, and you had lost so much even if you weren’t fully aware of it, but now you have found each other all over again, and the miraculousness of that is almost too much to bear.

You rush forward to hug him, sixteen years of Lan propriety forgotten. You are a child again, clinging onto a man you have always loved, except you are also an adult with so many years of separation only hitting you now that you are finally reunited. You are both and neither, and as his arms come up to wrap around you, you know that all that matters is that you are home.

#the untamed #lan sizhui #lan yuan #wei wuxian #lan zhan #lan wangji #wen ning #wen yuan #my post #my writing #mo dao zu shi #mdzs

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lover-of-queens · 3 years

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Farah Dowling is Alive Part 2

The follow up to Part 1 or as I like to call it: look mom, I told you this degree would have uses in the real world!

If you haven’t had a chance to read it yet, you can find Part 1: Here

You know the drill, under the cut cause this is probably going to get long!

Episode 4: Some Wrecked Angel

Episode opens with our favourite trio. If you’ve read the first part then you’ll be familiar with my argument that it could be possible the writers are leaving Farah x Saul threads to pick up at a later date. I think this scene has some interesting ones. There’s a lot of effort in this scene to set Farah and Saul up as parallels - in a way that also makes them stand apart from Ben. We have them saying his name together, but also, when they discover Callum’s body, both Farah and Saul are in sync as they move into a kneeling position.

I don’t necessarily know if this could be considered an argument for them bringing Farah back, however, in the scene with Farah, Stella and Luna, Stella brings up an interesting point about Farah’s pedagogy. We’re told that Farah chooses care and time over “solely results” when it comes to teaching. In the next episode we learn Rosalind’s own teaching style involves putting her students “through hell”. I don’t necessarily know when the change will happen but given this, I don’t see any way Rosalind can remain Headmistress, especially when they’re taking pains to show Farah as better suited for the role.

Also important in this scene is Farah and Luna’s last exchange. We know what appearances Luna has helped Farah maintain - the barrier/illusion that stops Aster Dell from being seen. So, what’s interesting is Farah’s next line:

Farah: “Yes, we’ve both done a great deal to preserve Solaria’s reputation.”

This does not get addressed during the remaining episodes. Personally, this line and the amount of tension between Farah and Luna also strikes me as a potential thread that could be picked up later. I’m going to wager that I’m not alone in wanting to know what exactly they did to “preserve” Solaria’s rep. And my guess is, because Brian has mentioned that they’re going to expand on the winx world, we’re going to be finding out more about Solaria in S2. Theoretically, I suppose whatever event that is being referenced here could be dealt with without Farah on screen, but then we’d miss out on all the fun tension! Also, as of right now, fan response to Luna is nothing compared to Farah (at least from what I’ve seen).

Tattoo theory, several people have already spoken on this and I don’t want to speak over them. I’m still sorting out my own thoughts on whether it’s Farah’s or Eve’s but I will say that Farah is always wearing rings so it seems to me that if they wanted it covered they could easily do it with a ring (or makeup). If the tattoo is purposely put there then I’m going to assume its for a reason that the writers may want to deal with at a later date (hint, hint: bring back Farah).

Episode 5: Wither Into the Truth

I may do another post on this at some point if I can find enough to say to warrant it but Farah’s eye colour when she does magic. Up until now every time Farah’s done magic her eyes have glowed blue and yet in the scene where she questions Beatrix they glow light orange. Now I’d always assumed that the colour of the glow = element, which was why I didn’t know why Farah’s glowed blue to begin with; she’s a mind fairy so I would have expected the purple that Musa has. And actually the confirmation of her being a mind fairy comes from Fate’s IG page shown below, I don’t know if it’s ever explicitly stated in the show? Further, to my knowledge, Farah is the only fairy we’ve seen whose eyes glow different colours. So, a thread to pick up in season 2, perhaps?

Also I’m very interested in the use of the word “Once”. In this instance I would almost take it to mean ‘no longer is’ but the tense is present perfect (I think?) which can suggest the continuance of an action. But now I’m being overly nitpicky and technical. Also I don’t know how ‘principle’ made it through what I’m assuming are several stages before making it onto IG, but it gave me a laugh!

“Incredibly powerful” yet loses to Rosalind without a fight? Not buying it. Additionally, the use of “other forms of magic” is interesting and I figure could be taken to mean other elements. But I wonder if there’s more to it than just that. Farah shows knowledge of archaic Fairy Magic with the Nettle Amalgam, so maybe there’s more archaic knowledge out there that she knows ... that could prove helpful.

Now, back to the episode. When Farah and Hologram Luna are talking, the fact that there are two burned ones travelling together is cause for concern.

Farah: “There are two of them travelling together. That hasn’t happened since … In a long time.”

Once again we are left with a thread of something that has happened. In the same IG post as above, in the section for Saul, it mentions that he and Farah became confidants “after experiencing the Black Woods Massacre”. I wonder if that could be what Farah’s referring to here? I know the massacre has come up once or twice in conversation and correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t believe it’s ever been properly explained? To me, it looks like a great bit of backstory to get into at a later date. It may not confirm Farah being alive necessarily, but you could take it as a sign that we might see Eve again.

Lastly, for this episode, is the scene between Farah and Bloom. Specifically this part:

Farah: “I will help you get the answers you need. I give you my word.”

You can probably guess what I’m going to say at this point, a thread that can be picked up in season 2! You could counterargue that Rosalind could help Bloom with answers (as she offers in the next episode) but in my humble opinion, I don’t think it would offer narrative satisfaction. First, because we’ve been shown what a terrible mentor Rosalind is. Second, they’ve spent the first season showing how Farah and Bloom’s mentor-student relationship has developed (bloomed?) so it seems a waste to go through all of that development for nothing.

Episode 6: A Fanatic Heart

Rosalind has her little prison break. Personally, I still think there’s a lot of unanswered questions about what happened after Aster Dell, how they imprisoned Rosalind, etc. And I do hope that we get some answers in Season 2 - again these answers may not necessarily involve Farah on the screen but as every writer gets told the age old advice of “show, don’t tell”, I think there’s potential for that.

Farah immediately tries to disprove my points about her intelligence by wandering alone in the woods at night. But she’s pretty, so I’ll allow it.

Rosalind gives Bloom some answers but not all, so I do think that my point above about Farah helping Bloom find more answers still stands. Further, I find the Farah is Bloom’s mother theory to be unlikely for several reasons (this is not the post for them) but I do want to draw our attention to several lines of dialogue here.

Bloom: “You hid me from Miss Dowling.” ….

Rosalind: “The guidance you needed was love. Farah couldn’t give that to you. Vanessa and Michael could.”

There are SO many reasons why this exchange is fascinating. I’m interested in why Bloom brings up Farah to begin with - her other points could stand alone to the same affect. I’m also really interested in the direct comparison between Farah and Bloom’s adoptive parents -- if Bloom hadn’t gone to them, she would have gone to Farah? It almost seems as though the direct comparison implies that. Also, considering Bloom’s relationship with her adoptive parents, I really doubt the validity of the statement. Plus, I wouldn’t trust Rosalind’s idea of love in general.

Also, Rosalind is just so certain that Farah couldn’t love Bloom … can’t love in general? There’s just so much of Farah and Rosalind’s relationship that hasn’t been explored that I think really needs to be.

Now, the scene that always makes me cry! Farah and Bloom have had a difficult time this season and it’s all lead up to this moment of trust and vulnerability - on both sides. If you ask me, this season has been setting Farah up to be the mentor figure that Rosalind was not - Rosalind’s opposite. And they’ve worked hard at it, even when they were trying to convince us Farah might be the evil one which like lmao. I find it hard to believe that they would go through all of that work just to discard it by leaving Farah dead. Especially because what Farah admits to Bloom in this sequence feels like a changing moment for her - she recognizes things she wishes she would have done differently (being less of a figurehead, being more open) and I think its only fair that Fate allows her to follow through on those things.

And onto the scene that I really don’t want to rewatch but I’m going to do it for y’all. I’ve touched on Farah x Saul moments so it’s only fair that I touch on Farah x Rosalind ones. There is tension here (looking at each other’s lips, Rosalind getting closer to Farah, Farah grabbing her), I mean the cast has joked about shipping them. But there are several different ways to read this and you are more than welcome to your pick! It doesn’t really change my point, which is … thread to pick up in season 2? Have you started taking a shot every time I’ve said that (please don’t <3).

Farah who has shown herself to be incredibly intelligent and cautious when it comes to Rosalind turns her back on her. And we get what is probably the most important piece of evidence: the eye glow. It can mean absolutely anything, but I’d wager one of the reasons its there is to have people do exactly what I’m doing here. Theorizing about whether Farah could still be alive. I’m going to take that as a sign there’s hope (mainly because I think it would be cruel to suggest a ‘could she come back narrative’ and then … not have her come back). Also, in the Fate novel, it describes Farah’s death as “too easy”. I absolutely refuse to believe that it could be easy to kill Farah when she’s proved time and time again how powerful she is.

That finishes my episode by episode analysis. It totals well over 2500 words. If you can believe me, I still have more to say on this topic (discussing general counterarguments and possible logistics of Eve’s filming), so stay tuned for a Part 3?

#Farah Dowling #fate: the winx saga #fate the winx saga #fate SPOILERS

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xiyao-feels · 3 years

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@hqfeels

Oh man, as someone who loves 3zun, and thinks the mess of intertwining relationships is what makes it interesting, I really should not have read this post - while I think you make some interesting points for a different interpretation of the Nielan relationship, I would also caution against basing your interpretation so closely to the words of what is a translation

e.g. when you discuss LXC not framing things in terms of the sworn brother relationship, you point to the use of “one of his sworn brothers” vs “my” or “our” - chinese doesn’t always use pronouns, so it could very well be the translator having to fill in

I make note of this, not as a nitpick, but bc I think it goes to the heart of the framing of the relationship. Because I think Xiyao is fundamentally framed within the 3zun context - after all, what does JGY call LXC to show they’re close? Er-ge. “2”, not just Ge. NMJ, as Da-ge eternally haunts their relationship. The point of rejection from LXC? You don’t have to call me Er-ge anymore.

So, hey! I appreciate that you said you shouldn't have read my post, but I thought your points were worth addressing, and since you left comments in the notes I figured it was reasonable to respond. If you don't want to read this post, I completely understand, and I've left a bunch of empty lines after this paragraph so you don't have to read it if you don't want to.

The point about relying too heavily on exact shades of meaning is definitely a good one. Reading over my post, however, I think there are only three places where I do that; the point identified, later for one point in my discussion of QHJ's teacher, and actually later in the temple when I talk about the "sob" of Liebing as some evidence for LXC's grief for NMJ.

I think it's worth asking: how much does any one of these points contribute to the argument? They're definitely not irrelevant, or I wouldn't have pointed them out, but even so there's only so much wiggle room. No matter what pronouns he uses, for example, LXC only spends one clause of that speech directly on JGY killing NMJ, and it's in the context of, well, a general lack of reaction of personal grief. If—not even if he actually said 'our sworn brother' or 'my sworn brother,' I do think that would be some evidence of personal betrayal, even if it has to be considered in light of the rest of his reactions and non-reactions. But if, in the original text, the Chinese simply didn't specify the pronouns such that "his" is the translator's best guess—I just don't see that as a serious blow to the argument, given the consistency of the pattern as a whole, and I think it's kind of cherry-picking to suggest that it is.

Second, I don't think the pronoun there is ambiguous as is suggested. Consider the phrasing; it's not just "his sworn brother," it's "one of his sworn brothers." Supposing that "his" wasn't present in the original text. "One of my sworn brothers"? "One of our sworn brothers"? Neither really makes sense. Of course, perhaps they might make more sense in Chinese; but that's a little further than "what if the translator had to pick a pronoun."

Now, I think the above points are worth considering on their own merits, which is why I brought them up first. However, I have to say: I did, actually, check the Chinese, for the "one of his sworn brothers" and indeed in multiple places. I didn't mention it in the post for the same reason I usually try not to rely on it in my posts: because I feel like I'd end up setting myself up as some kind of authority when I'm very much not, and because I'm frequently fairly confused XP I have, what, one term of Mandarin, some amount of self-study, and Pleco installed on my phone. But I do often look at the original text and try to work things out, and sometimes I learn stuff that's been lost in translation, and often I can go well, my best guess aligns with the translation. If you want to confirm for yourself, and I encourage you to do so!!, then you can look at the text here: https://www.kunnu.com/modaozushi/. It's in chapter 64.

This is the clause about JGY killing one of his sworn brothers: 他设计杀害了自己的一位义兄 ("that he planned to kill one of his sworn brothers"). The pronoun before "one of his sworn brothers" is 自己, which is a pronoun referring to the subject of the sentence—in this case 他, he, JGY. Now, could I be wrong? Of course! Should anyone rely on uncited statements from a total stranger? No! I strongly encourage people to check this out for themselves, and if someone who actually does speak Chinese wants to offer some guidance I'd be very grateful. But given that it matched the translation from people who do actually speak both Chinese and English, it seemed enough to allow me to rely on the translation.

On that note, actually, I'll admit I missed a trick. "我父亲的一位恩师", one of my father's teachers—"teacher" there is 恩师, which Pleco gives me as "mentor; one's kind and respected master (or teacher)." So it does have more of an emotional edge, and I'll edit the post to acknowledge this. Even so, I think it's worth remembering both that it's one word, he's not adding lots of adjectives about the teacher, and most importantly that the teacher simply isn't lingered on. The effects of his mother killing the teacher, yes, and the contrast between his memories of his mother and the fact that she did kill his father's teacher...but the teacher himself is just not dwelled on.

(For completion's sake, the "sob" of Liebing in ch 107 is "呜咽", which Pleco gives as 1) sob, whimper 2) (of water, wind, stringed instrument, etc) weep; wail; lament; mourn.)

But again, quibbling over phrasing is to some extent a distraction. The important thing is not so much any one incident as the pattern they form, considered together; this is why my original post was so long, because I was trying to consider the overall pattern, and I think the comment about framing is pointing at the same thing. So it's worth asking: are xi//yao framed in terms of the 3//zun relationship?

In fact, I think this divides into two questions. First: does the text frame xi//yao in terms of the 3//zun relationship? And second: do xi//yao understand their relationship fundamentally in terms of the 3//zun relationship? I think you could make more of an argument on the first one, or at least, xi//yao and NMJ are part of their own narrative in the text and often show up together. But in terms of the actual relationship, it's the second question I'm interested in here, and I think the answer is very much no.

First of all, a note on timelines. In MDZS, LXC and JGY knew each other for about seventeen years; they were sworn brothers with NMJ for about four. To put this another way, they were sworn brothers with NMJ for less than a quarter of their overall time together. Moreover, they had significant time without NMJ before they all became sworn brothers, as well as after his death. Now, much of their relationship is revealed to us through Empathy, which necessarily limits us to when NMJ was alive, and moreover shows us only those of their moments together that he happens to see, so it's understandable that these years dominate our view, but I do think it's important to remember.

Okay, now let's consider what we see of their relationship. Given how much of it we see through NMJ's eyes, it's in fact remarkable how much it isn't about him. In the first conversation we see them have together, LXC is proposing that MY stop being NMJ's deputy and go serve his father in Langya (though only after confirming that's still what MY wants, note—and which he knows MY had wanted because MY literally told him!). When MY says he does want it but he owes NMJ, LXC says he thinks NMJ will understand but volunteers to talk with NMJ himself if he doesn't. Neither of them have told NMJ they know each other; after NMJ comes in, when he seeks to find out how they do, asking LXC and then ordering MY to speak after LXC refuses, they don't tell him. I'm not saying either of them are unhappy with NMJ here—quite the contrary!—but there's no sign they see the other, or their relationship with each other, fundamentally in terms of him. (For a close reading of the scene, as ever, I recommend confusion-and-more's post here.)

Furthermore, in MDZS, after MY flees from NMJ in Langya and becomes a spy, he starts sending LXC letters with information, and LXC works out who it is. As with pretty much everything we see about them, this suggests a quite astonishing intimacy—that MY was able to trust that LXC would work it out, and that LXC did. Not only did NMJ not know who the spy was, in MDZS he didn't know there was a spy at all—LXC concealed it from him entirely. Now, this is obviously very solid practice for spies, but again—you have xiyao together, and NMJ apart. (I'll also note that in MDZS LXC is exchanging blows with NMJ sword to saber until the very end of the post-Sun Palace confrontation, even after MY steps forward; he definitely does not seem to think that NMJ has any sort of right, here.)

At the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, we see them together but, again, not with NMJ, and there's no suggestion that LXC had socialized with him particularly—JGY is aware of how much prey he's taken, but of course JGY is running the hunt. Then when they both go off at the end of the scene to expand the hunting grounds, LXC asks LWJ if he'd like to help, but there's zero suggestion that they're going to seek out NMJ, even though he's part of the reason JGY needs to expand the hunting grounds.

In chapter 73, LXC and JGY are talking after the conference. Then NMJ comes over and comments disapprovingly about JGY. Again, LXC doesn't actually speak a single word after NMJ joins them. This... really does not suggest perceiving him and JGY as fundamentally part of that triad, imho.

The guqin scene: LXC and JGY are very much focused on each other. Only LXC talks with NMJ at all, and only once, briefly, answering his objection. NMJ is described as looking up before his objection, which suggests to me that he/wasn't/ looking up before. Meanwhile LXC and JGY are complimenting each other's playing, LXC is offering to teach him exclusive teachings, and JGY is telling LXC about his mother. You could reasonably say LXC teaching JGY the Song of Clarity is or is partly about NMJ—his desire again for them to reconcile—but in their interactions they are focused on each other to an almost absurd extent, and not NMJ.

The discussion conference mentioned in chapter 30? We're told NMJ wasn't originally planning to go; it seems likely that we would have been told if the same was true of LXC, given that LWJ is the one telling us about it. So, again, we have JGY and LXC together, and NMJ only coming in for outside reasons.

At the beginning of the stairs conflict, when NMJ comes in and calls JGY out, we see that JGY and LXC are discussing something, with "notes of all colours" on the desk before them. WWX is later going to realize they're discussing the watchtowers, which even now, well before he's Jin-zongzhu, JGY is trying to convince his father to build; there's no sign, on the other hand, that NMJ even knows what they're working on.

Their last interaction before NMJ's death /is/ about NMJ, with JGY very upset and LXC defending the idea that NMJ hasn't rejected JGY completely. But again this doesn't suggest that they view their relationship fundamentally in terms of their relationship with NMJ, and as we've seen it's not what they're usually talking about.

I talk here about two patterns of 3//zun interaction in the Empathy chapters: broadly, MY/JGY and LXC talking privately and NMJ coming and interrupting them, and NMJ attacking MY/JGY, and LXC intervening.

Looking over their interactions, the text does not, to me, suggest that LXC and JGYview their relationship fundamentally in terms of NMJ or of 3//zun.

And again—LXC doesn't bring up NMJ in the temple, and he only reacts to NMJ-as-NMJ three brief times.

Now, it is of course true that JGY calls LXC er-ge as a sign of closeness, and that he's 'er-ge' because NMJ is the first brother. However, a few points.

First, I would argue that it's a recurring theme in MDZS (and /especially/ for JGY) that the form of a relationship doesn't necessarily match what the relationship actually is; the form, therefore, might be an interesting point to consider, but it must be considered in light of the evidence we have about their actual relationship.

Second, JGY calls LXC er-ge a full thirteen times in the temple chapters. Once in chapter 99, when he's responding to LXC about JL; twice in chapter 100, discussing NHS; in chapter 105, three times leading up to his explanation of the letter; six full times when answering LXC's questions in chapter 106; and then once in chapter 108 when he is literally asking LXC for protection from NMJ's fierce corpse.

Once and only once, on the last er-ge in chapter 105, does LXC respond to being called er-ge, though we're told he did so earlier off-page. And—well, look at the paragraph:

His tone was more than earnest. Ever since he captured Lan XiChen, he’d indeed been treating him with respect. At this point, Lan XiChen wasn’t able to turn against him yet. He could only sigh, “Sect Leader Jin, I have already said, when you went your own way to scheme such havoc at Burial Mound, that there was no longer the need to call me ‘Brother.’”

This is not only not framed as an essential rejection, it's framed as explicitly /not/ that: "Lan XiChen wasn't able to turn against him yet." And again, as I pointed out in my post, we're explicitly given a reason for it that has absolutely nothing to do with NMJ! 'Don't call me er-ge because you killed da-ge' would be very natural; the fact that it's explicitly not about that suggests strongly to me that they simply don't think of 'er-ge' in terms of its relation to NMJ, despite the form.

#ship negativity cw #that damn bingo post #a gentle warmth filling the deepest of needs #profound philosophical differences #we can't change places #anger burned in his heart #the best of men #more than one tag could contain #long meta

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romancemedia · 3 years

Text

Addison’s Return to Grey’s Anatomy

Ever since it was announced last week that Addison would be returning for several episodes of Grey’s Anatomy I Was Stunned to say the least. I was so shocked when I found out that I simply had no words. No words to describe how unbelievable or amazed I felt when news was out that our favourite OBGYN would be coming back to Grey’s Anatomy After All This Time. Addison’s return really opens up so many doors when you think about it. I mean not only will she get the chance to reunite with any remaining characters during her previous time on the show like Richard, Bailey and Amelia, but she’ll get the chance to meet and work with the newer characters like Maggie, Winston, Link, Cormac etc

Aside from all the Greys characters I can’t wait to learn what her life has been like since the end of Private Practice along with her friends. How are Jake and Henry? Is the practice still open? How is everyone doing? I can’t wait to learn everything! It’s been almost 10 years since the end of Private Practice and no doubt a LOT has changed since then and I can’t wait to find out. Plus I’m curious about how they’re planning for her to return. How will Addison make her comeback to Grey’s Anatomy and be re-introduced to Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, formerly Seattle Grace Mercy West. At first I was beyond surprised that Addison was coming back, but I realized that it’s actually not that surprising since if they managed to bring back Derek, Lexie, Mark and George all throughout last season and with Ellis also coming back then Addison’s return is a piece of cake!

There is so much more I can’t wait to see about her return for instance... her relationship with Amelia. They were so close during Private Practice, but since Amelia’s switched shows she has hardly mentioned her former life or her old friends which is surprising since she once said that she considered Addison more of a sister than any of her actual ones back then. Plus do they still keep in touch? I know that Addison was mentioned only once WAY back in season 11 after Amelia joined the cast, but since then Nothing so which begs the question... how are things between Addison and Amelia since they last saw each other?

Aside from Amelia there is one character I Can’t Wait for Addison to meet and that is Jo! With Jo switching over to OBGYN I Can’t wait to see them working together and I bet that Addison will make a great mentor during her return even if it will only be a couple of episodes. However, aside from being a mentor I’m REALLY curious if Alex will be mentioned. History is basically repeating itself. Addison was Alex’s first mentor, the person who introduced him to peds through OBGYN and now she is mentoring His Ex-Wife!!! This is bound to bring up a lot of stuff between both women which is something I Can’t Wait to See!!!

Finally, last but certainly Not Least is the reunion no doubt of lot of us are just DYING to see... the reunion between Addison and Meredith!!!! Back when they first met they were in a love triangle with Derek, but now that is long over and Meredith is no longer an intern or a resident, she is an attending and Addison’s equal. Both women are experts in their fields, have a lot of respect and they’re pretty much legends/superstars so I’m curious to see how these two strong women will be working together upon their reunion.

I’ve always wondered if this would ever happen. For instance whenever I pictured Addison making a special return I figured Meredith would be jealous or envious of Addison since she gets to raise her son, Henry with her husband, Jake who is still very much alive, but since Meredith is finally at peace with Derek’s passing I don’t think that will be a problem. I can’t wait to see how these two will define their professional and personal relationships now that there is no longer a man in their way. I know that they were never really friends to begin with, but I wonder if they can really put the past behind them and maybe become friends after all this time? Whatever happens this is a return any Grey’s Anatomy or Private Practice fans Will NOT Want To Miss!!!

#Grey's Anatomy #My Thoughts #Private Practice #Addison Forbes Montgomery #Meredith Grey #Amelia Shepherd #Jo Wilson #Derek Shepherd #My Thoughts GA #Future Episodes

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soukokuwu · 4 years

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i live for aku angst. could you please write a scenario where he develops feelings for a fem reader during the dark era, but watches as her & dazai fall in love together? he wouldn’t be able to do anything since he’s dazai’s subordinate. but imagine them having a significant friend (ish) relationship, so when she disappears along with dazai he gets left utterly heartbroken and alone, wishing he would have said something to her when she was still with him. thank you! i love your writing

➥ genre: angst

➥ pairing: akutagawa x crush!reader, dazai x reader

➥ synopsis: akutagawa watches as you fall in love... but not with him.

➥ word count: 2k

➥ a/n: and i live for angst 😼 i really really loved this idea & i really hope you’re still here — tried a certain theme for this, hopefully you like it!! and tysm kind anony ^.^

Black and blue

You came out of the blue.

In the form of medicine for his wounds, and a cure for his aches. You were his superior, but you were unlike a certain other superior he knew. You radiated warmth and comfort — something Akutagawa didn’t know he craved. And yet you managed to instil that feeling in him within a matter of seconds.

“Dazai did this to you again?”

What was that he heard in your voice? Was it pain? Disapproval? Sadness, maybe? He was too detached from any emotion to be able to tell. Everything he knew, he learned from Dazai himself. All he wanted was the man’s approval. That was all he worked for. But you ignited a conflict in Akutagawa that he didn’t bargain for. One that he didn’t know would lead to fireworks instead of just a single spark.

“Yes,” was all he said. Was there any other way to respond? This was the first time you spoke to him, was he supposed to continue the conversation? A part of him wanted to. This was the only time a superior has shown any sort of care to him after all. So why couldn’t he get anything out?

You pressed your lips into a firm line, and he couldn’t help but notice how soft and pink they looked. You didn’t wear a lot of makeup, and his opinion was that you didn’t need it anyway. You already looked... pleasing enough to the eyes. Was that how people described someone they found... good-looking?

Endless questions darted across Akutagawa’s mind that day. But none were answered. Because how could they be, when the one questioning didn’t have the guts to say a thing in the first place?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Akutagawa knew.

He knew you didn’t mean to. But you did it anyway. He knew why, too. Because he let you. And just like that, his walls came down. No, they didn’t crumble — he wouldn’t let them fall that easily, but still you were the only one who could take the bricks out piece by piece until the barrier was almost nonexistent.

It was like demolishing a house and rebuilding it again — just better, stronger. You painted over his grey with your red. It was your favourite color, and fitting enough; it was the color of his feelings for you.

Since that day you were always there for him. You had your own tasks, sure, but you always looked out for him when you could. And he found that days when you were especially busy were the days he felt most blue. Akutagawa found it strange though — why did you care? What did you have to gain?

And he found the answer one night, a conversation with you by the bay. You had invited him to take a walk with you, to get some proper fresh air and let off steam. But Akutagawa had read way too much into it, that he knew. Why else would he feel disappointed that there wasn’t so much as any physical contact with you? He merely stayed at a distance as he always did, and you never tried.

One fruit bore out of that night though. He learned more about you than he thought he would. You were much like him; joining the mafia because you had nowhere else, you accepted an invitation from a senior in the mafia, wanting to prove that you weren’t worthless, that you could produce something of value to someone. No wonder you looked out for him. You saw a part of yourself in him, didn’t you? You knew how lonely it felt. That night, Akutagawa felt something he never thought he would — a sense of belonging.

The longer you spoke to him that night, the larger that feeling grew. And somehow he looked at you in a way he didn’t before. It confused him, disgusted him. No, correction — he disgusted himself. Not his affection for you. Why did he feel like pursuing this; you? That night, he denied himself the chance to let you in on his feelings.

A useless kid like him doesn’t deserve you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke was a black sheep. But you were the golden girl.

Should he be surprised then? As he watched the way his mentor interacted with you, should he be worried? No, did he even have the right to be? But then he saw him smile at you, a smile he’d only seen formed when he was around that other guy — Oda Sakunosuke. You were... another exception? Yet again, many questions raced through his head. But one thing he knew for sure — he was turning into the green-eyed monster.

He started to notice how you reacted to Dazai. He hated how you always seemed so mesmerised whenever he walked by. He hated how your eyes twinkled whenever you talked to him — where’s that sparkle in your eye when you talked to Akutagawa? He hated how one day you just showed up with Dazai’s coat wrapped around your shoulders. He hated how much he was affected by it. It really wasn’t unexpected — next to Dazai, who would take a second look at him anyway? He wished he could be him. Then maybe you’d... He shook his head. No, maybe not even then.

What he hated the most? He couldn’t even hate the guy. He yearned for Dazai’s respect; approval, and that never changed. But then the upset dissolved into an understanding. Something in his head clicked. You belonged with Dazai. He knew next to nothing about your relationship and how it worked. But what Akutagawa did know? Dazai was a revered member of the Port Mafia, one likely to take Mori’s place as the big boss in the future. He couldn’t even lay a hit on him with Rashomon. Dazai wasn’t a formidable fighter like Chuuya either, and still he managed to beat Akutagawa into the ground. That man... was exceptional. You deserved that. You deserved the best.

That’s what Dazai was. He was the black that would take no other hue, and fittingly so he was the Port Mafia’s great white hope.

“Devour space? That sounds cool,” you had commented one day while bandaging up the cut on his wrist, one inflicted on by Dazai himself. He noticed how you didn’t comment on his barbarism as you usually would, and the usual concern in your tone never appeared. As it never did ever since the first day he saw you talk to Dazai.

“I still can’t do it.”

“If you try to imagine you’re protecting me, could you?”

You see, Akutagawa knew it was just a joke to you. And yet? His heart started pounding so fast, so loud in his chest the moment he heard it. It was a tiring dance — feeling so happy about a tiny comment and then feeling a heartache after realising your smiles, even then, were never as sweet as the ones you flashed at Dazai.

Did Dazai even love you? Or was he playing some sort of game as he usually does with women? He hated how he was praying for the latter. Hated how he wished that things would crumble for the two of you so that he could be the one to help you pick up the pieces — to be the one. Akutagawa sighed, knowing he could never get inside his head. Anyone who tried would fall into a cognitive prison. But even these selfish thoughts couldn’t last long, because Akutagawa got his answer later that day when he overheard his mentor talking to his friend.

“Odasaku, how vulnerable can humans get?”

Akutagawa is shocked at the depth of the conversation. He didn’t know Dazai was capable of talking about... emotions. He didn’t think he had any. The other man mentioned something about it being to a big extent, Akutagawa let it slip past his ears. He was more interested in what Dazai had to say.

“It’s weird. It’s like finally being seen after having lived in perpetual darkness. The light she holds, it’s small... but is it wrong of me to hope that it will grow with time?”

Was that... hope he heard in his mentor’s voice? ‘With time’? That meant the future... for all his suicidal thoughts, because of you, was Dazai really considering living? Akutagawa sighed in exasperation as he quietly walked away from the spot he eavesdropped from. He would never understand Dazai.

He never did. Especially not when the same Dazai who spoke so fondly of you was the same Dazai who shot three bullets at Akutagawa for killing the enemy. You were a saviour in more than one way. Your words echoed in his mind, and his shield came out of his will to protect you, an imaginary you. That’s why Dazai didn’t manage to shoot him dead this time. Because of you.

“Oh? See? You can do it. How many times have I told you? Cutting open unfortunate hostages isn’t the only thing you’re good for. You should be able to use your powers for defense too.”

“I’ve never been able to successfully do that before this.”

“But you just did. Isn’t that great?”

Akutagawa wanted so badly to argue back in an act of rebellion, to yell out that it was only because of you that he was able to do it. But the words got stuck in his throat. And Dazai’s threat embedded themselves in his brain. He always wondered if Dazai knew his subordinate harboured feelings for his partner. But Akutagawa already knew the answer. Nothing escapes that man. But he’s sure that he doesn’t view him as a threat, not even as competition, no.

To Dazai, it was probably just another reason to hate him; another reason to justify why he was in Dazai’s black books.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was a complete bolt from the blue.

Akutagawa remembered the day he realised he had lost two important people in his life. He thought that watching as you fell in love with Dazai was the most horrible emotion he could feel. He was wrong. Losing the two of you, not even being able to see either of you, not knowing where either of you vanished to — nothing could top that agony.

The day Oda died, the two of you disappeared along with him.

You took down his walls, painted the insides red, furnished it and made it vibrant again and then suddenly you were gone. You left him in the dark. You invaded his solitary space — slowly, ironically without any violence, and yet the moment you left, it was anything but peaceful for Akutagawa. No, you and Dazai left him even lonelier than before. You graced him with your presence and healed him, only to break him down even more than he already was before he met you.

Everything he heard about love after you left just seemed like everyone viewed the world through rose-coloured glasses. Nothing he found could describe the anguish he felt over losing you; or the regret he held for not telling you how he felt — the remorse that he knew wouldn’t change a thing, and yet wished he did anyway.

Because who knew when he would ever see you again, if he would? What if he never did? Yet ironically, your memory is always there — you’re sitting at the edge of his periphery, taunting him with your smile, tempting him to go and find you. And Akutagawa thinks of it everyday; what it would be like to find you, to hold you, to tell you everything he should have when you were still there.

However, a part of him nags at him not to. After all, the grass is always greener on the other side — maybe because Akutagawa isn’t there. And as an image of you flashed in his mind yet again, he scoffed at himself.

Beautiful. That’s the word he was looking for that first day you touched his soul.

You’re beautiful.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

En Pointe

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 24 Prompt - Stitches

No matter how much she hates the Red Room, ballet is still Natasha’s go to stress relief. Peter is just curious and eager to learn.

Words: 2311, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark

TW: Broken Bones, Blood

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“You do ballet?” Peter asks curiously as he watches Natasha tear the shank out of her new pointe shoes. Her old pair is still in pretty decent shape since she only dances on occasion now but its always been relaxing to sew and break in a new pair and it never hurts to have a few back ups.

“Sometimes,” she answers cryptically as she steps on the toe box with her bare heel to flatten it out, Peter watches her fascinated, venturing further into the room and sitting cross-legged a few feet from her. He’s careful not to touch any of her old shoes or the ribbons and other tools and materials spread out in a semi-circle around where she’s sitting. “Why?”

Peter’s fingers are twitching where he has them pressed into his thigh like he’s holding back from touching. “I did ballet as a kid. Just a few months of classes before my parents died and I was terrible but it was fun.”

Natasha hums as she reinforces the toe of the shoe with glue and fans it a little to dry it out. “You probably wouldn’t be so terrible now,” she tells him as she bends one shoe and then the other, enjoying the cracking noise they make as she works them in. She looks over to Peter to consider him for a moment. “Want to try?”

“With you?” He squeaks and its kinda adorable how nervous he is. Nat suppresses a smirk as she puts on her toe spacers and worn out toe pads – the lambs wool she modified these with is absolutely perfect and she won’t even consider using another pair until these designate around her feet.

“Of course,” she answers, standing up and bending first one shoe and then the other before going up en pointe and squatting to work in both shoes. She’ll need to dance on them for a few hours before they start feeling really good but they aren’t too bad right now. Sometimes new shoes just aren’t right no matter how well she prepares them but she has a good feeling about this pair. “You seem mostly coordinated as Spider-Man at least, I think you can handle a few basic positions.”

“Uh yeah,” Peter says, jumping to his feet like an over eager puppy and making Natasha smile a bit. “Yeah that sounds great!” She can almost see his tail wag.

She gestures to the barre running the length of the studio Tony had put in the compound just for her and has them face each other, correcting Peter’s posture as she goes. His sneakers are ratty and falling apart and she wrinkles her nose at them. She taps them with the hard side of the box of her shoe. “Lose those. I don’t have a pair of men’s shoes lying around so you can just go barefoot for now.” Peter hastens to do as she steps into some resin, crunching the small rocks into powder and rubbing it into the sole, box and sides of her shoes. By the time she’s done, Peter has positioned himself back at the barre, barefoot and with the hems of his pants cuffed up to mid calf.

He looks a little nervous and intimidated so Natasha give him a little smile as she hands the barre with her left hand and adjusts herself into first position as Peter stares intently. “We’re going to do some plié to start I’ll show you the positions; this is first.” Peter’s more graceful than she expected, his legs easily falling into place without shaking or him losing his balance like most new students was. She’s almost impressed.

Peter’s a surprisingly quiet student – she’s seen him in the lab with Tony and in the field where the kid is definitely what she would describe as a chatterbox. He asks a few questions here or there but, for the most part, he just observes and follows her lead. He picks up the positions quickly and Natasha puts on some music and instructs him through her usual warm up. By the end he’s sweating a little but he looks relaxed and a little pleased with herself.

“Can you teach me to spin?” He asks her a little shyly but with an undercurrent of excitement, shifting his weight from foot to foot like an overeager puppy and Nat gives him a soft smile.

“Sure,” she says, ditching her point shoes and slipping into some flats. “So you want to start off…”

He falls over the first few times but he nails a sloppy spin the fourth time. He stumbles a little once he stops, arms akimbo and legs spread for balance with a surprised look on his face. He looks at her for a second with a clear expression of ‘did I just do that?’ before letting out an excited laugh and fist pumping. “Holy shit!” He says under his breath and Natasha laughs with him – his good humor infectious. “That was so fun!”

“Try it again,” she says. “And this time keep your arms tucked in tighter and you head fixed on a point. Like this,” she demonstrates again, focusing on a dent in the wall to keep her head from spinning with her body and to keep her from getting dizzy. Peter tries again and cleans up his form a little.

“I think I’ve got it,” he says after another few turns and then he starts again, spinning once, twice, three times and, on the fourth rotation she sees his ankle twist as if in slow motion. Peter lets out a grunt as he loses his balance and, instead of falling, tries to stick to the floor with his abilities. His momentum continues to pull him though and she hears his leg crack in a sound that echos through the studio over the soft music and makes her hair stands on end.

“Fuck!” Peter exclaims and he drops, hitting the smooth wood floor hard and immediately dropping onto his back, face ghostly. His tibia has broken cleanly in two near his ankle and twisted to break through the skin in a grotesque fashion, leaking blood onto the previously pristine floors. Natasha immediately falls back into her extensive first aid training and drops to the floor next to Peter, tying one of her leftover ribbons around his upper calf in a crude tourniquet.

“Let’s get medical down here FRIDAY,” her voice is calm even though her heart rate is elevated. Peter looks about two seconds from passing out but pushes himself up with prodigious effort only to turn green when he sees his leg, turning away from her abruptly to gag and retch. “Get it all out,” she tells him, rubbing a hand across his clammy back.

“It’s…” Peter gags again. “The bone… I…”

“Don’t look at it,” Natasha says firmly, pushing him back to the floor. “Tony told me you were accident prone but I didn’t know you were this bad,” she tells him with humor, pulling off the shrug she had put over her leotard and leggings and mashing it firmly into the wound, making Peter moan and turn white.

“It’s Parker Luck,” he tells her, sounding out of it. He looks like he may pass out and that just won’t do – she needs to keep him awake.

“What’s that?” She asks, brushing the hair off his forehead in a tender gesture and massaging his scalp a little.

“Just my specific brand of bad luck,” Peter says a little sardonically, his voice wavering from the pain. She wants to ask more but the door at the opposite end of the studio flies open hard enough to hit the wall and bounce back as Tony – helicopter mentor extraordinaire – skids into the room and literally trips over his own feet to get to Peter’s side. Natasha would roll her eyes if she wasn’t so concerned herself.

“What happened?” Tony asks her, tone accusatory and Natasha gives him a sharp look.

“We were doing ballet and he spun just a little too hard,” Peter groans from the floor, this time from embarrassment and covers his face with his hands muttering ‘just let me die’ under his breath. Tony flicks him on the forehead.

“Don’t be a dramatic little shit,” he chastises, still looking more worried than anything. “Only you would manage to give yourself a compound fracture learning ballet of all things.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” Peter whines. “I’m injured!”

Natasha can’t hold back her snort at this, the situation would probably be a lot less humorous if she didn’t know Peter would likely be completely back to normal in a couple weeks or less with his healing factor. The kid was like rubber.

“What did you do this time?” Bruce calls from the doorway, pulling a gurney and followed by a small gaggle of nurses. Natasha steps back and away as one of them takes over putting pressure on the still bleeding puncture and pulls Tony with her. She knows that if he had his druthers he would glue himself to Peter’s side and aggravate Bruce and the other medical professionals to death.

The team is quick and efficient in stabilizing Peter’s leg with a temporary splint and loading him on the stretcher, bustling out of her studio with Tony following just as quickly as they came in. Nat isn’t a big fan of crowds so she stays behind, cleaning the tacky blood off the floor before it dries and sets. As it is, the fine grains of the wood are tainted and she knows she has no chance of cleaning all of it out and resigns herself to dealing with flaking blood on the toes of her pointe shoes for the foreseeable future.

Satisfied with her clean up job, she slinks back to her room and showers, washing the remnants of Peter’s blood off her hands and forearms and the sweat out of her hair. She changes into some loungewear and dries her hair and, figuring she’s probably stalled long enough, grabs a book at random from her bookshelf and makes her way to the medical floor.

The halls are silently when she arrives thankfully and the waiting room is empty bar Tony. He’s seated in one corner facing the hall that leads to the operating and recovery rooms and tapping something into his StarkPad, reading glasses perched onto the tip of his nose and in danger of slipping off the end. He looks relaxed which she takes to mean the Peter will be just fine – not that she expected any different.

Tony jumps when she settles into the chair next to him, glasses falling to the floor and nearly fumbling his tablet. He sends her a glare without heat – he’s always complaining about her sneaking up on him but its not her fault he isn’t observant – and sets the tablet aside.

“Well?” She asks, quirking one eyebrow in expectation.

“He’ll be fine,” Tony tells her, relief clear in his voice. “They’d normally have to put in a pin or two but, with his healing, they just want to flush it out really well to prevent infection and then reduce the fracture and throw in some stitches and a brace. He’ll be on bed rest and crutches for the next week or so until the stitches can come out and he can transfer to a boot but he’ll be back up in no time.”

Natasha nods, she expected all of this really and pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged in the small chair. She didn’t do a cool down after her work-out and she can already feel all of her ligaments tightening up – her hips and knees crack as she adjusts and make Tony wrinkle his nose in obvious disgust. “He was doing pretty good for a while,” she says breezily. Kid’s got natural talent.”

“He can’t walk across a flat surface without tripping,” Tony tells her. “Don’t let all of his Spider-Man acrobatics fool you – Peter’s as clumsy as they come. His aunt should have wrapped him and put him in a bubble years ago.”

She laughs, elbowing Tony in the side and dodging his returning nudge. “He’s good for you,” she tells him honestly and Peter really is. She’s known Tony for a long time, considers him one of her closest friends barring Clint and this is the happiest and most settled she’s ever seen him. It makes her happy.

Tony blushes and clears his throat, trying to hide it but she can see the satisfied little smile on his face. He can’t deny his happiness. “Anyway,” he tries, changing the subject swiftly – she lets him. “You’ll have to help keep him entertained since part of this was your fault after all.”

“Not my problem the kid’s an accident waiting to happen,” she says with no heat. She already plans to hang around during Peter’s recovery. She can teach him more about ballet if he wants, he could shape up to be a pretty decent partner with some practice and she thinks it might help him a little with his balance and enhancements. Control of your body is important for both after all.

Later when Bruce leads them to Peter’s recovery room he gives her a knowing look that she ignores in favor of perching on the edge of the bed and teasing Peter about his poor technique. He’s high as a kite from the enhanced pain meds and cackles at her good natured jokes. Tony threatens to put him in a cushioned room for the rest of his life and Peter rolls his eyes like this is all par for the course.

He falls asleep again pretty quickly, drooling onto the pillow and twitching a little as he dreams and Natasha feels her chest feel with warmth.

Yes, she thinks Peter will make an excellent student.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump24 #Prompt: Stitches #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 3 years

Text

No Mistletoe Above Our Heads

Summary: It’s the day of the Trolberg Winter Festival, and Matilda Pilkfist invites all her favorite people to her house to celebrate. Two of her guests, however, seem more interested in each other than anything elseContains spoilers for season 2

Notes: Did you know that legally you can post Christmas fics until the New Year? It’s right there in the constitution, I swear Jokes aside, I had two holiday fic ideas and only time to write one in time for Xmas and... that established relationship one won. Which, of course, didn’t stop me from wanting to do this one as well. Anyways this is set one year after the Trolberg Winter Festival that we see on season 2. Since we don’t know how much Johanna will know after the whole Troll business is over, I’m just making things up here.

Read it on ao3

The doorbell rang just in time for Kaisa to finish setting up the table, all the cutlery neatly in place.

“Oh, it’s the rest of our guests!” Tildy chirped. “You dears wait right here, I’ll go get them.”

Standing near Tildy’s table, the two of them watched the older woman walk to her front hall to open the door. There was a very strong scent of cinnamon in the air - Tildy had probably forgotten something in the oven.

“Do you know the other people she called?” Mr. Ostenfeld asked her, making her shrug.

‘Sort of. I’ve talked to the kids before. They’re okay.” Although she’d grown very fond of the children in the year she’d known them, spending the Winter Festival socializing with them was not a situation she was entirely comfortable with. She was sure she’d just be a wallflower and make them all feel like they needed to include her in their conversation for the sake of good manners, but her old mentor had insisted on her attending the dinner, so she’d given in. It wasn’t like she had any better plans for the evening, anyway, and she felt like she owned it to Tildy after spending years avoiding her.

“Frida, how delightful to see you!” They heard Matilda say from the doorway, and figured they should get closer to greet the guests as well. “And I’m so glad you two could come too!”

Behind Frida, there were two adults who resembled her a lot. Tildy let them in and pointed at them. “This is Peter, my boyfriend, and Kaisa. I used to be her English tutor as well!”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Ostenfeld said as Kaisa shook their hands. She had been warned, of course, that the adults didn’t know about the magic yet, but it still struck her as amusing to see arch-sorceress Matilda Pilkfist describe herself as an English tutor. She also wondered how her mentor was planning on explaining the skull on her wall, or the painting of witches around a fire, not to mention her hand mannequin for palmistry practice. Maybe she thought everyone had those things at home, that would be a very Tildy-like way of thinking.

After greeting Frida and her family, Kaisa brought her attention back to the other guests. She knew Frida’s familiar had also been invited. Tildy seemed to have taken a strong liking to her as well. What she hadn’t been expecting was to already know the adult who had come in with her.

Well, maybe know was too strong of a word. But she’d already met the woman at the library, where sometimes she’d go to look for inspiration for her work and Kaisa would help her, and sometimes they’d see each other around the city and wave. Still, it was enough for a noticeable spark of recognition to be lit on her brown eyes, even if she wasn’t the one who spoke first.

“Good evening!” Hilda greeted her happily. “It’s very nice to see you here!”

“Good evening, Hilda. How are you doing tonight?”

Seemingly unaware of how Kaisa’s gaze was straying to her mother behind her, the girl smiled. “Great! We just came from the bloom, it was so beautiful!”

“I agree. I was there long enough to see it, those flowers seem to get more beautiful every year.”

Though Hilda looked like she was going to agree, Mr. Ostenfeld approached them before she could say anything.

“Ah, so you two were invited! How lovely! Looks like you have already met my neighbors, eh Kaisa?”

“Good evening, Mr. Ostenfeld!” Mother and daughter said at the same time. Only now Kaisa realized that Johanna seemed to be trying to sneak glances at her as well.

“I already know Kaisa.” Hilda explained. “I don’t think mum does, though.”

With her hand on her hips, the woman rolled her eyes playfully. “Hilda, I’m not illiterate. I’ve already met Kaisa at the library.”

Hilda’s mouth formed a perfect “o” shape, her eyes widening only slightly. It seemed like an odd thing for her to realize her mother had a life beyond what they did together.

“It’s good to finally see you in a more social setting, Kaisa.” She said, raising her hand for the librarian to shake.

"Likewise." The woman’s grip was warm and soft, and something in Kaisa didn’t want to let go. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Johanna.” The woman smiled. Perhaps the night wouldn’t be a waste after all.

_#_#_#_

Johanna never thought she’d be so glad to see the librarian.

When Hilda told her they’d been invited to Frida’s English Tutor’s Winter Festival dinner, she’d been skeptical at best. Not because she didn’t trust the woman, not even out of unwillingness to spend the Festival in a way so different from how she used to when she was younger, but because she knew Hilda would leave her alone, and she couldn’t blame her.

Being with her friend meant the girl would probably run off to somewhere private to talk to her alone, and Johanna would left to… mingle with the adults, something she didn’t quite know if she would manage. Her daughter had thought she had wanted her to make human friends for the sake of being normal. Truth be told, what she really wanted was for Hilda to have more social skills than she did when she grew up.

Her prediction had been proven true. The girls had gone to some other room in Matilda’s house at her invitation, and the rest of them had moved to a sitting room, where they sat down on the couches in pairs: the host and her boyfriend, Frida’s parents, and the party’s two outcasts, which had been left to sit together.

Kaisa seemed to realize they were the odd ones out - the only ones who weren’t there as a couple and who weren’t quite close to nearly anyone - at the same time Johanna did, and they smiled sympathetically at each other as they sat down on the bright red sofa.

Neither of them added much to the conversation; Tildy was able to carry it with her usual brightness and Frida’s parents seemed to be interested in adding their opinions as well, especially when the topic was their daughter’s incredible willingness to learn.

Not particularly interested in the dialogue, Kaisa let her mind wander elsewhere, until she felt Johanna tense up beside her. They weren’t close enough for her to physically feel it, but sensing her energy was enough for Kaisa to pick up something was wrong. She blinked and tried to remember the sentence that had just been spoken.

“It brings us a lot of pride.” Frida’s father had said, which made Kaisa assume the conversation still had been centered around Frida. “But it must be quite hard to have a trouble maker for a child, isn’t it? I imagine you’ve tried everything at this point to get Hilda to behave, and I should have expected Frida to have had a bigger impact on her, being the positive influence that she is.”

Johanna swallowed, and Kaisa could tell from the way her fist clenched on the hem of her sweater that she knew exactly what to answer, just as well as she knew she’d be beyond rude if she said what she wanted to.

“I don’t see what you mean.” As though they had forgotten she was there, and she wouldn’t be shocked if they had, all eyes turned to Kaisa with surprise in them. The only exception was Tildy, who had her typical knowing smirk on. “I’ve had plenty of opportunities to watch Hilda’s behavior, since she visits the library a lot, not once has she done anything that would have me describe her as a trouble maker. And trust me, I have seen some difficult children in my job.”

Looking quite flustered, the man tried to reverse the situation. “Well, surely you’ll agree-“

“There’s the basic, of course.” Kaisa didn’t let him finish. “She never yells or misplaces books, or returns them late. But even when she takes some actions that I suppose could be considered… off route, never has anyone been put in harm’s way by her that I know of, and all her actions are inspired by selflessness. Intelligence doesn’t only mean one thing, and I can assure you the girl is as smart as she is brave. It’s a shame not everyone can recognize it.”

Pleased when both parents looked properly chastened, Kaisa sat back against the couch and pretended to have stopped caring about the conversation again. Oh, if only those two knew the sort of thing their own child got involved with. She’d very much like to see their faces when they found out.

“I agree completely.” Said Peter from the other side of the room. “Never met anyone with better intentions.”

Tildy nodded at her boyfriend, even though her eyes seemed to stray away to the direction of the couch where Johanna and Kaisa were sitting. “Yes, she’s got a heart of gold, that one.”

Only when Kaisa glanced at Frida’s parents, wanting to see how they would look while trying to explain themselves, did she notice that Johanna was not looking at her daughter’s defensors, but rather at her. Her lips parted in a silent gasp when she saw her mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her.

Ignoring Frida’s mother’s fumbled speech as she tried to talk about the “value the school system gives to different learning types”, Kaisa whispered back at Johanna. “Want to get away?”

Though there was no clear answer from her part, no nod or smile, Kaisa didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up and her back straightened at the prospect.

“This is certainly a fascinating topic.” Kaisa blurted as she stood up, well aware that the sarcasm was showing in her voice. “But is it just me or is there something burning?”

Tildy sniffed the air and widened her eyes. Kaisa hadn’t even had to make anything up, something was burning.

“My korvapuusti!” Tildy gasped, but before she could move further, Kaisa gestured for her to remain seated.

“Don’t worry, I can see to it. Though I’m not much of a cook, so maybe Johanna should come with me.” She raised an eyebrow to the woman, expecting her to understand the cue she was trying to create at the same time she knew she was free to refuse it. “Hilda has already brought me some cookies you made, so I know you are skilled.”

“Of course.” Hoping she hadn’t been too quick to answer, Johanna got up and adjusted the hem of her sweater, sneaking a glance at Kaisa, who seemed to be as anxious to get out of there as her.

A dawning realization seemed to slowly replace the worry in Tildy’s face, and she smiled. “How sweet of the two of you to help this old woman. Thank you, dears.”

Kaisa nodded and went back to the entrance hall they’d been at some minutes ago, and Johanna fell in step beside her as she made her way through the house. She seemed to know where she was going, so Johanna didn’t question it, even as she spotted some frankly bizarre details in the house. Something about the way herb jars and crystals adorned nearly every surface was eerie, yet not unpleasant to her. And surely she was imagining the way the portaits’s eyes seemed to follow them.

“Thanks for that.” Johanna said when she had to do a little sprint to catch up with the librarian, a decoration that very much looked like a serpent with horns having had caught her attention. Kaisa slowed down her pace.

“Don’t think about it. There is something burning, anyway, and you very much are more more apt to deal than this than I am.”

“Oh, not that, though I am very grateful for the excuse to go away for a bit.” The lighting in that part of the house was significantly dimmer, somewhy being composed basically of candle light, and for a second Johanna was distracted by how their warm glow and the shadows they cast accentuated the sharp angles in Kaisa’s features. It was probably just the artist side of her showing. “I mean for defending Hilda like that. It’s good to know you have such a positive view of her and… I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t spoken up first.”

Kaisa smiled. This was something Johanna didn’t think she’d seen her do any time before that night. It had always been a certainty in her mind, though she didn’t know why, that the mysterious librarian didn’t show who she really was in the library. Now she wondered if she’d finally get to see more of Kaisa’s hidden side since they were behind closed doors.

“You would have been fine.” Thankful for the weak lighting hiding her blush, Kaisa answered. “At worst you would have told them what they need to hear.”

“That their daughter is going to develop one hell of a failure anxiety if they keep this up?”

“That she already has and Hilda is the positive influence that keeps her grounded. Those two really do a lot of good to each other, it’s a lovely friendship to watch.”

Kaisa opened a door and flicked the light switch up, making them both blink a few times since their eyes had adapted to relative darkness. The scent of burnt cinnamon and cardamom was much stronger there, and Johanna quickly spotted the oven and ran to it.

“You seem to know quite a lot about the children.” Johanna pointed out as Kaisa grabbed an oven mitt from the overhead shelf and handed it to her. Carefully, she opened the oven and was struck by a cloud of smoke and heat, holding herself back not to cough as she reached inside and pulled out the tray with the sweets on it. The cinnamon rolls were certainly a lot darker than they ought to be.

Kaisa waved her hand in the air, trying to make the smoke and the strong smell of burnt food fade, and with her other hand she gestured for Johanna to put the tray on an empty place on the counter.

“I don’t go out much.” She admitted half unwillingly. Admitting her lack of social life probably was not the best course of action to take if she wanted Johanna to be interested in befriending her, but she'd certainly figure it out in no time, anyway. “So when I notice recurring patrons that don’t irk me, I usually pay attention to them.”

“Pay attention?” Johanna asked as she tried to figure out how to turn off Matilda’s prehistoric oven before they both choked to death.

With a fork, Kaisa attempted to examine whether or not the confections were still salvageable. At first when she couldn’t poke inside, she thought maybe the crust of sugar and cinnamon had just gotten too thick, but when it broke with an audible crack before yielding she knew they were lost.

“I’m not-” She crossed her arms over her chest, biting her lower lip as she wondered if it was a good idea to answer that question truthfully. Due precisely to not having many friends, Kaisa knew she tended to overshare when people would listen to her, and it just made them go away. But there was something in the way Johanna looked at her that made her believe she genuinely wanted to know. “I’m not really good at talking to people. I seem to be the kind of person that is more interesting when watched from afar, anyway. So I tend to pay attention to visitors, as a hobby I suppose. You can tell a lot by people-watching.”

Johanna took off the mits and gave them back to Kaisa for her to put them in their proper place, and gave her a small nod as a sign to go on.

“I probably wouldn’t know this much about them, but curious as they are the children began to… talk to me.” Kaisa said. It wasn’t quite a lie, but she was sure the story would make much more sense to Johanna if she could mention the Committee and the magic. Though perhaps that was for the better, since that would also mean admitting to taking her daughter through a magical maze, not to mention the ghost situation and the tide mice incident. She highly doubted that Johanna would appreciate it. “And I suppose we just got along. They’re very sweet kids, the three of them, and their curiosity brings them to the library quite often.”

Rather than being disturbed by some of her closest bonds being with children she had no family ties to, Johanna smiled like she understood.

“They really are lovely.” With great difficulty, Johanna managed to unstick one of the sweets from the tray. “It’s a shame I don’t get to talk much to Frida and David, though. Hilda usually doesn’t want her mother bothering her friends. I guess it’s just signs of pre-teenagehood showing up.”

After bringing the korvapuusti to her nose and sniffing it, Johanna had to do her best to hide a grimace at the smell. “Oh, goodness, I hope Matilda doesn’t get too upset about not serving dessert.”

“Eh, she’s probably done another batch earlier.” Kaisa said as a way of hiding the fact that Tildy would probably use a revitalization spell and serve them anyway. Currently, the librarian was more interested in something else she’d just spotted on the counter.

It was a small jar, not much bigger than a glass of water and filled to the brim with a cream coloured paste. She grabbed it so fast that Johanna blinked with surprise, and thought for a moment that she was trying to hide something.

“Tildy made condensed milk!” Kaisa chirped, sounding very much like an excited child as she opened one of the drawers and took out two tablespoons. “I mean, of course she did. She always puts it on the table when she makes korvapuusti in case anyone wants to add it on top, but she made so much this time! How lucky.”

As Kaisa scooped a spoonful of the viscous substance, Johanna bit back a smirk. If people truly did think Kaisa’s uncensored self wasn’t as interesting as the image she first showed them was, the woman would have to disagree strongly. Every time she’d seen the librarian in her work place, Kaisa had set in her the desire to get to know her better, and now that she was seeing beneath the mystery and the quietness, nothing changed; if anything, Johanna was even more intrigued. In her mind, she compared her to a good brownie: once you got past the crispy crust it was warm and soft inside, and both parts were just as good.

“You seem very close to her as well.” Johanna pointed out. “Between her and the children, you’re probably better off in the friend department than I am.”

Kaisa stopped scooping a second spoon to look at her, her brow furrowed. “Really? You look like a very popular person.”

Flattered, Johanna chuckled. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re nice.” Kaisa shrugged. “Nice people usually have a lot of friends.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s how I come across. But I’m afraid I don’t really have any friends. None human, at least.”

Johanna looked away and cringed. Great way to get people to like you, she told herself. Make them see how weird you are. It was ironic, really. She’d insisted so much on Hilda making some human friends, and in the end she was the one drinking her afternoon tea with a nisse. If Kaisa had thought she was nice rather than odd, like most people did, it wouldn’t last if she continued talking so freely.

There was no judgement, not even surprise, when she looked back at Kaisa’s face, though. She looked like she thought that what Johanna was saying made perfect sense.

“Now you have one.” She had set down the jar again and was raising one of the spoons up for Johanna to take. “If I might call myself that, I mean.”

“Oh.” Johanna smilled, a cool sensation of butterflies in her belly making her fidget with the hem of her sweater. “Yes, of course. I’d love to be your friend!”

Kaisa’s grin widened, and Johanna spent a second thinking about how beautiful the dark lipstick shade she was wearing looked on her before realizing she was still waiting for her to take the spoon.

“Oh.” Johanna gasped again, mentally kicking herself from fumbling over her words so much. She wasn’t normally like this, but Kaisa had no way of knowing this and would probably think her a complete fool before the night was over. “Shouldn’t we wait until after dinner?”

“What’s the harm? Hilda isn’t here, you know? You don’t have to set a good exemple.” Kaisa said even as lowered the spoon, as if to show that she wouldn’t pressure her to do it. However, the argument seemed to have been a good one, because as soon as she brought her own spoon to her lips to taste the condensed milk, Johanna gave in and picked up hers.

“This is really good!” Johanna said regardless of thinking that it was maybe a bit too sweet for her to be able to eat a whole spoonful of it. Kaisa didn’t seem to be having any problems with it, though, and she didn’t want to let her new friend down.

Kaisa leaned her back against the counter, pleased Johanna seemed to have liked it. Figuring it would probably be inappropriate if she kept watching her as she licked the condensed milk out of the spoon, which she firmly told herself she’d only been doing because she wanted to catch her reaction, Kaisa ran her eyes around the kitchen as she concentrated on her early dessert. Until, that was, her attention was caught by something on the doorframe.

“Did Tildy seriously put mistletoe in the kitchen?” She sighed, more to herself than to Johanna.

“Not fond of them?” Johanna asked with her gaze also focused on the bundle of green leaves and pearly white berries.

“I’ve no ill will towards them.” Kaisa ate the last of what was left on her spoon and wondered if it was worth it to wash it and get some more condensed milk. “I just feel like it can be a really stupid tradition. Can’t be pleasant to be under the mistletoe with someone you don’t like.”

“Yes, it must be uncomfortable.” While she answered, Johanna turned to face Kaisa, who was washing the spoon in order to put it back inside the drawer, figuring out Tildy would notice if too much of the condensed milk was gone. Realizing Kaisa had some of it in the corner of her mouth, anything else she might have said was snatched out of her tongue as the sudden thought that it truly was a pity that Kaisa didn’t appreciate that tradition popped in her mind. Embarrassed, she shook her head as if to expel that notion, and put the spoon in her mouth to finish eating as well. “I wonder where on earth it came from. Sounds random to say the least.”

Kaisa hummed in agreement, and though Kaisa offered to wash Johanna’s spoon as well, she insisted on cleaning up after herself. After they were both done, they decided they’d probably been away for longer than socially acceptable. It was probably already time for dinner, at that point.

As they retraced their steps, however, the two women stopped in front of the first door frame after the kitchen's, staring at the same thing for the same reason.

“Curious.” Johanna hummed. “I don’t remember that mistletoe being there.”

It escaped Johanna’s notice, but not Kaisa’s, that there was something out of the ordinary with the sprig. After a few seconds of watching it, a glittering speck of green dust fell from it, floating all the way to the ground. The witch’s shoulders hunched forward like they tended to do when she was annoyed. An illusion spell.

“I don’t think they were here before.” She hissed through clenched teeth, low enough for Johanna to not hear it. Every other room they passed by was the same: a small mistletoe where before there had been none.

“It was probably the weak lighting.” Johanna said as they passed by their fifth mistletoe, although she failed to convince even herself with that explanation. Kaisa might not have noticed it since she had just been looking forward to where they had been going, but Johanna had been paying very close attention to her surroundings. Maybe that house’s nisse had decided to add some decoration?

Kaisa did her best to smile and say “Yes, it probably was.”, knowing it must have looked way more like a growl. Right when they arrived back at the sitting room, her suspicions were confirmed. Not only did Tildy have her hand inside the pocket where she kept her wand, but also the look of curiosity she gave them when they came back spoke louder than any words.

“You’re back! We were just waiting for you to go to the table.” Tildy chirped, looking deep inside Kaisa’s eyes, looking for something.

“Someone better go call the children, then.”

Tildy looked away at Kaisa’s unwavering answer. Whatever she’d been looking for, and the librarian thought she had a pretty good idea of what it was, she hadn’t found it.

“And the korvapuusti?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to use your extra batch.”

“Oh, well.” She got up with her boyfriend's aid. “There’s always next time, isn’t there.”

Something led Kaisa to believe she was not talking about the confections.

_#_#_#_

“It was great to spend some time with you, Kaisa!”

The librarian tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping she didn’t look too happy to be hearing that.

“Likewise, Johanna.”

Would asking to see her again be too much? It probably would, but she could think of nothing else to say. They just stood perfectly still as they looked at each other, the cold from the night outside creeping into the house through the open door behind Johanna. Holding her mother’s hand, Hilda glanced back and forth at both of them with a curious frown.

“I guess I’ll see you at the library, then?” Johanna said at last, and Kaisa nodded.

“Yes. That’s… that’s where I’ll be.”

“Well, happy Bloom again! And good night.” At this point, Hilda was already trying to subtly drag her mother away. For someone who always complained about the Woodman leaving the door open, she thought Johanna really should pay more attention to that sort of thing.

“Good night to the two of you.” Said Kaisa. Finally happy that Johanna had began moving out, Hilda smiled and waved at the witch.

“Bye bye, Kaisa! See you when I see you!”

When the door was closed at last, and Kaisa was the only guest left (it didn’t matter that she was one of the strongest witches alive, Kaisa would feel bad if she left an elderly lady to clean up everything alone), Tildy surreptitiously crept up by her side.

“Did you at least get her number?” Tildy asked with a sigh, which made her former apprentice remember why exactly she’d been mad at her.

“Tildy.” Kaisa groaned, putting her hands on her waist. “I know you mean well, but you’re going a little too far. I barely even know Johanna and you’re already conjuring mistletoes around the house?!”

Saying that, she pointed to the spot one of the sprigs had been just a few minutes before, even though there was nothing there at that moment. The woman giggled, kneeling down with some difficulty to pick her familiar up when it walked to her.

“Oh, but I’ve a good eye for this sort of thing!” She defended herself cheerfully as she petted that thing she called a familiar. Kaisa had never seen eye to eye with it. It had a tendency of eating her books which hadn’t faded with time. “I saw some sparks flying and I decided to help along! Such a shame you didn’t grab the chance.”

Kaisa pinched the bridge of her nose. Sometimes she wondered if age was beginning to get the best of her old mentor. “Okay, fine, I think she’s cute. You’ve always been able to tell how I feel and I won’t deny it. But we both know close to nothing about her! She doesn’t even like mistletoes-”

“This younger generation.” Tildy scoffed, interrupting her. “So unromantic.”

“And even if her feelings were reciprocal.” Kaisa continued with a glare, figuring it was better to pretend she hadn’t heard that. No matter how old Kaisa got, she was always part of the ‘younger generation’ in Tildy’s eyes. “We’ve just properly met! “that’s way too forward and you know it, so don’t try to blame me for not making a move in the first five seconds of knowing someone.”

“Oh, Kaisa.” The sorceress sighed as she began walking away to the kitchen, so they both could start and finish their washing as soon as possible. “No need to get so defensive. I was only trying to help you, but I apologize if it made you uncomfortable in any way. However, as someone who wants nothing but your happiness, I need to ask you to reach out to that woman as soon as possible.”

Kaisa hugged her arms around her torso. Somewhy that idea was enough to make her afraid, even if she couldn’t tell what of. “It’s okay, Tildy. You don’t have to apologize, but I think I’ll wait until Johanna goes to the library again. We can talk a bit and… and then when she visits it again it won’t be weird to try and arrange another meeting somewhere else.”

Tildy stopped right in front of the sink and narrowed her eyes at Kaisa. “Were you not listening?”

“I was, but-“

“No buts!” She exclaimed, throwing a towel at Kaisa. Whether she wanted her to do the drying or she was just exasperated and wanted to throw something at her, she didn’t know. “Do you know why I’m dating Peter?”

“Hopefully because you love him?” Kaisa answered, somewhat stunned at the sudden change in topic.

“Very funny, aren’t you.” Opening the sink to begin her washing, Tildy snickered. “I mean, why am I dating him instead of already being married to him? I did already tell you we met when we were young.”

“Because you’re both broke and can’t take a loan since the bank doesn't like you.” Kaisa joked, which resulted in Tildy shaking her weat hand on her direction to send a couple of drops of water at her. Laughing as her she shielded her face from the water, she quickly added. “I’m kidding! It’s because you two didn’t talk for very long.”

Tildy nodded as she went back to washing. There was something sad in her eyes, and anyone else might have missed it. Kaisa, however, had spent too much time with her, had shared too many conquests and downfalls with this woman to not be able to pick it up.

“We met one night and fell in love almost instantly. But we knew nothing of each other… I spent my life hoping he’d find me, and he spent his life not being able to because he didn’t know how. He spent his life regretting not having asked me out on that first night. Do you see what I’m trying to tell you?”

“Be grateful Johanna knows where I work and for modern technology?”

Tildy gave her a glare that made her sure that if looks could kill, she’d need a spot at Guglow’s. Even her familiar, who had moved to lie atop of her head, seemed to be staring at her with impatience, and Kaisa sighed in defeat.

“I understand the lesson, Tildy. And even though I don’t really agree in this ‘love at first sight’ talk and your extreme carpe diem mentality, I’ll… try to do something. So as not to become a target for your crossbow practice, if anything.”

Finally pleased, Tildy smiled.

“Smart girl!”

_#_#_#_

“Hey, mum, what are you doing?”

Slouched over a cookbook in her bedroom, Johanna hadn’t even heard it when Hilda opened the door. Her daughter sat near her on the bed and tried to take a peak at what she was reading.

“I’m trying to find any condensed milk recipes in our old recipe book.” She explained, though she knew that at that point she all but had that book’s contents memorized. “Kaisa seems to like it a lot… she was very kind to both of us at the party, I wanted to make her something as a late winter festival gift, even if it’s just a batch of cookies.”

“Sounds like a good idea. You could take the chance and ask if she has any recipes she’d prefer.”

Finally Johanna dragged her eyes away from the book, and noticed Hilda had a sly smile on. “What do you mean?”

“The doorbell rang, remember? She’s at the door.”

“What?!” Johanna jumped from the bed, wondering how Kaisa knew where she lived before remembering she could have gotten the address from the library records, or from Frida, Matilda, and even from Hilda herself. Before leaving the room, she glanced at the mirror to check her appearance, which made Hilda lift an eyebrow.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining the blush on the librarian’s face when she opened the door, but she was more worried about the fact that she probably had one of her own.

“I wonder where it came from.” Kaisa quoted Johanna’s words from the night before, from when they’d seen the first mistletoe on the kitchen’s doorway, and bit back a grimace when she realized she’d forgotten to say “good afternoon”. There was no coming back from that, so she continued. “That’s what you said about the mistletoe’s tradition yesterday. I, ah, got curious. So I did some research and found out it actually comes from mythology. And biology. The biology of the plant mattered too, you see.”

There was a beat of silence in which Johanna just blinked at her, and Kaisa was afraid she’d slam the door on her face for turning up in her house out of the blue to talk about mistletoe lore the day after a holiday. Instead, she opened a grin.

“That sounds fascinating!” Johanna said, feeling her heart pick up pace. Not only had Kaisa truly listened to what she said, but she’d had the mind to look for answers and to come all the way to her house to tell her what she’d found. “I’m working on an evergreens pattern for a series of products, I actually think knowing more about these aspects of them would give me a lot of inspiration!”

Standing up a little straighter, Kaisa couldn’t hold back a breathy chuckle of relief that Johanna seemed to be taking that attempt well.

“I was hoping you’d let me tell you more about it over coffee?” She asked as she bit down on her bottom lip. “If you’re busy right now-”

“No, no!” Johanna waved her hands in front of her. “I’m completely free.”

Perhaps that hadn’t been the best thing to say, since she had just informed her that she was working on a project, but Kaisa didn’t seem skeptical of her answer at all, only happy. Her grey eyes lit up, as beautiful as the snow outside when the weak winter sun shone on it.

“Oh.” Kaisa breathed. She seemed surprised, and maybe even amazed by the situation, and it filled Johanna with warmth. If she seemed awe struck by something so simple, she couldn’t possibly be used to being appreciated, and Johanna couldn’t wait to change that. Figuring Kaisa had already done the most of the reaching out just by going there, she spoke up again.

“There’s a pretty good coffee house in the centre square.” She said. “We could take the chance to pick up some fallen Sostansil flowers, I loved pressing them in my journal when I was younger. Plus, I’m pretty sure they sell their cookbooks there, and I just discovered I need a new one.”

As if by work of magic, confidence seemed to return to Kaisa’s stance. “That sounds lovely!”

“I’ll just check with Hilda if it’s alright to leave her alone and-”

“Don’t worry about me.” Both of them startled when they noticed Hilda had been standing a few meters away, in the kitchen. “I’ve got to do homework and walk Twig.”

“Hilda, it’s impolite to listen to other people’s conversations.” Johanna called out. All the girl did was mutter an amused ‘sorry’ and walk back to her room.

Since when Johanna looked back at the librarian she didn’t look put off by Hilda’s behaviour, she took a step back and pointed behind herself.

“In this case, I’ll just grab my coat and we can go. I’d love to hear all about what you found out.”

Kaisa’s smile was the last thing Johanna saw before she ran off to her room. It was intriguing, she thought, how the mistletoe hadn’t needed to be above her head to help her.

Maybe, from then on, she’d like it a lot more.

#fic: nmaoh #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda fanfic #johanna hilda fanfic

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years

Text

Little boost

It had been a hectic day, working on some detailed written reports Batman asked him to investigate and patrolling with Nightwing, Damian was exhausted, more than usual, he could use a strong drink. There were certain things he had to think about, things he had pushed To the back of his mind while working, but there was a constant mental reminder that they were still there, which is exactly why Damian found himself sitting next to a slightly squiffy Dick Grayson, at the rooftop, looking at the stars and passing back a small bottle full of liquid that burned in the right way from his hair to his toenails. The relief his body demanded after a long stressful day. He thought about the bothersome hangover and the way his head would throb the next day as he took his second sip but he shrugged it off. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. Brother bonding, they had been intensely busy to have a casual brother-to-brother chat, out of all his siblings he felt the most comfortable with Grayson. He was lost in deep thoughts when his brother caught him off guard with a question.

“Have you discussed your feelings and intentions with Raven?” There it was the question he was dreading to answer. He had asked himself when he would finally muster the courage to speak with her about these new emotions surging inside him.

Damian’s heart jumped just enough at the mention of her name, nonetheless his familiar unreadable expression didn’t change. After another sip of the drink he felt loose enough that he didn’t hold back the low heartfelt groan, even as his sensibilities reminded him that he didn’t have anything to groan about. He hadn’t made his intentions clear after all this time. A part of him wondered how Dick might know he had feelings for Rave at all, as if the amber and intoxicating liquor was some kind of truth serum that made everything plain as day. Perhaps he had underestimated Grayson’s observation skills, his father trained him after all. He wasn’t Batman’s first son and right hand for nothing.

“She’s an essential component of our team.” Damian muttered lowering his voice as if to make himself sound as sober as possible and convincing. “The Titans wouldn’t be the Titans without her.”

“That’s certainly true, but also...” the older man nodded in agreement and took a mouthful of the amber drink. “I have noticed you two complement each other well, both in battle and out…” Richard gave Damian a playful feline smirk. He didn’t want to pry, he was only concerned for his brother’s unresolved romantic involvement, he can practically feel Damian’s hostile glare on him, studying his intentions silently. Anyone would understand what he was referring to. So he noticed Damian concluded. Richard didn’t ask to gossip with his other siblings about his personal affairs, he knew it. Maybe it was time to trust Grayson. He certainly had earned it after all those years working side by side.

“It’s not what you think, rather complicated.” Damian said quietly into his drink, and though his eyes are elsewhere, he knew Dick was listening to him as a friend and brother. It was something he’d been trying to avoid thinking about, with no help from the dark-haired man sitting to his right. They had something, Dick was absolutely right. And even when Damian had tried to keep his distance at first, the pull to Raven magnetic and frustrating as hell. Unstoppable. He had no control over it. But what was holding him back? The uncertainty? “We’re simply friends, I think.” It wasn’t a lie. Friends who wanted to engaged in rather intimates activities and explore boundaries.

“Teammates.” Grayson whispered remarking the word. Knowing well Damian’s aversion towards it.

“Exactly. Not any different than how I stand with you or any of the other team members.” Damian said with a tint of bitterness gracing his voice. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. Not Grayson or his father. His relationship with other teammates could be described as civilized. He cared for them. They were his family too.

“And yet you are intimate with Raven in ways that you aren’t with your other teammates.” A teasing expression crosses his face. Now Grayson had the guts to mess with him. His eyebrows furrowed at the comment, naturally making thin lines appear on his forehead.

“It’s intellectual compatibility, Grayson. We are teammates who have similar interest in common.” Damian remarked with hot anger. He considered taking his frustrations out on his brother. He wanted to punch someone, maybe Dick or Jason. He visualized the face of Conner Kent though, who had touched Raven unnecessarily too many times today with his filthy hands. His green eyes narrowed.

“If you hold no claim over Raven, surely you are both able to enjoy the company of others. So to say if Conner wanted to spend some time with her, it wouldn’t bother you. Right?” Richard commented taking another sip of the raw drink. His humorous blue eyes watching Damian’s reaction attentively, the man next to him was his family, his brother, he only wanted the best for him. For fuck’s sake, it was pretty obvious they had a thing going on. Deliberately Provoking him would have the reaction he expected. He just had to mention Conner or Garfield and voila his stubborn little brother would get himself a girlfriend. His job as older brother was to meddle in his ‘personal affairs’. O,us, Damian could use a little push to take the next step.

He thought about it for a whole minute, considered the suggestion Richard made that Raven was available to have a romantic or physical relationship with anyone. Looking into Dick’s ocean eyes, he knew that Dick was so clearly baiting him. Because, of course, Richard was absolutely right. The idea of Raven with anyone else made his blood boil but if they were just friends who were close, friends who were evidently physically attracted to each other but didn’t speak about their attraction or romantic interest, he had no right to demand exclusivity. Deny her the possibility to see someone else. It irritated him. He was her ‘friend’ but who was to say that she couldn’t be close with anyone else, for instance Conner. Tsk. Over his dead body. Not Kent or anyone else. He was irrevocably doomed. What the hell was happening to him? He didn’t want to push Raven asking for more, fearing her answer would dig up the ghosts of his past pains that he’s worked so hard to bury. His mother’s betrayal and he was Ra’s Al Ghul grandson. Did he even have the right?

“Just friends.” Damian repeated with displeasure at the term that defined his relationship with the young woman he loved? Did he love Raven? What did he know about love? It wasn’t a exact science, he could read thousands of books and they wouldn’t give him the answer he was searching for. Just had to look at his own Father, involved with a criminal, on and off. Didn’t have to bring up his mother. The answer lies in your heart, it was as If the cold east wind whistled those words. He didn’t want to see Raven with anyone other man, it made his insides turn and his jaw clench involuntary. He wanted her for himself only. And waves of clarity seem to crash down on him, slowly dissipating the feelings of confusion and helplessness that he’s been plagued with ever since he discovered he had strong feelings for Raven. People used to say that love is like wildflowers, it grows everywhere even through the debris, truthfully he didn’t understand it at first, at the image of Raven’s face clear as a painting in his mind, as the countless hours he has spent drawing her alluring features, he finally understood what they meant by that. That smile, her smile. She had bewitched him.

“Does repeating it enough times make it so?” Dick asked arching a brow at him with a sly smile curving his lips.

“Fuck you, Grayson.” Damian uttered annoyed at his older brother, for being foolish and falling right in his trap. Probably it was the alcohol talking but Dick could take it, Dick’s response was a open throaty chuckle. He wouldn’t admit he was thankful out loud though. Damian smiled instinctively. “Thank you for the overly emotional conversation about my romantic affair.” He mentioned to his brother, looking at him straight in the eye. His eyes silently whispering a ‘thank you, brother.’ He had enough alcohol doe the night and with the first ray of sunlight he was waking up for training. He couldn’t help but imagine it, waking him next to her, soft sheets and even softer skin, inhaling that characteristic lavender smell first with the sunrise. And here he was wasting precious time, getting drunk with Grayson. He shook his head before getting up slowly and marching towards the door of the Titans building.

“Where are you going?” Dick asked curiously, suddenly intrigued what his little brother would do about this situation. At this point he knew how to handle Damian and make him see what he refused to acknowledge. Damian was incredibly smart for his age but at times too obstinate. This required of his assistance. He was growing up fast, too fast for his liking. The snarky, short-tempered kid Bruce brought years ago, was long gone. Richard Grayson thinks it is indeed a privilege to be Damian’s brother and mentor. He was tremendously proud of his younger brother. His job was done and he smiled broadly.

“Hopefully it’s not too late to discuss my emotions and intentions towards a certain lady.” Damian flashed him a confident smirk, only barely aware that he might have slurred the last words, effects of the alcohol no doubt. It wasn’t too late for him, walked a bit unsteadily towards the door, his destination the room of his soon to be girlfriend he hoped. He had to speak with her. This was his last chance. He waved goodnight to Dick before disappearing in the darkness of the night, leaving a pleased Richard drinking on the rooftop alone.

Undoubtedly they would have fun explaining to Batman how his biological son was romantically involved with a half-demon. Dick decided that conversation could wait a few weeks...perhaps months.

Have there a brother bonding moment 💜💜💜💜

@audieoddity @niahti @chromium7sky @deep-in-mind67

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lunasquared · 3 years

Text

It’s a Quiet Starry Place (But With You I’m Safe)

Summary: Tony used to love space, however after the Battle of New York that changed and from then on he feared the one thing he loved most. Until one night almost 5 years later when Peter asked if Tony wanted to watch a meteor shower with him.

Trigger Warnings: Mentioned/Implied Child Abuse, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, and PTSD

AO3 LINK

Story below the cut!

Tony used to love the stars.

As a child he would sneak up to the roof of the mansion on Long Island to lay and watch the stars. It was peaceful for him, quiet he would describe it. A quiet place where his father would never think to look for him. But by that point his father was either too drunk to want to find him or had hit him enough to want nothing more to do with him.

Aside from that, the stars and the moon and the planets up above were fascinating. Space as a whole was fascinating, he could see the stars, he could see the moon, and every once in a while he could see the planets — but he couldn’t see the rest of space. What he could see he was mesmerized by and what he couldn’t see he was determined to discover everything he could possibly discover about it.

Space was safe, to put it in simpler terms.

It was always there when he needed it most. It was constant, yet always changing. It was a topic he could always learn more about, always discover something new and excited about. It was something that was his own to learn about and no one could ruin it for him.

It was rare that Tony would ever bring someone up to the roof with him. Only a special few ever got that privilege, but the night when he was 5 — only his third time to the roof — Jarvis had found him up there quieting his sniffles while staring at the stars. Jarvis didn’t speak at first, he only laid down next to Tony, but the words he spoke that night were what fueled Tony’s interest.

“Look right there.” Jarvis had said, pointing up to the brightest star Tony could see, which Tony had always found a particular interest in the nights prior. “That’s Polaris or the North Star.” There was a pause where Jarvis moved his finger as if it was connecting the stars with lines to make a spoon like shape. “But all of those make up Ursa Minor.”

“What’s that?” Tony asked, curious as to what significance was to the formation itself, as well as what it actually was.

“It’s a constellation.” Jarvis explained. “One of many. You can’t see all of them from here, but in different parts of the world you can see different ones.”

“Is there a story behind them?”

“There’s a story behind all of them.” Jarvis answered, giving Tony an affectionate pat on the head before standing up and going back inside, leaving Tony alone with questions flying through his head faster than he could comprehend and forgetting about why he had even come up to the roof in the first place.

The next day Tony had gone to the library after school and checked out all the books he could about constellations. And for years after that, stars and space were Tony’s fixation. He would go to the roof every night he could trying to find new constellations he had learned about. The nights that were particularly bad for him, he would find all the ones he knew while quietly reciting the stories of each of them to himself.

When Tony went to college at 15 he found out very quickly that the views from the top of his dorm building in Cambridge were nothing compared to what he had seen on Long Island. Nevertheless he enjoyed them just as much and was determined to find any constellations he could see in Cambridge and not on Long Island or in Manhattan.

Through their years at MIT, Rhodey had never questioned where Tony had gone almost every night for a few hours — Tony never brought it up and Rhodey never asked so why would Tony say anything? However, the night before graduation, instead of going to a party with the rest of the graduating class, Tony had grabbed Rhodey’s hand and led him through the city of Cambridge until they reached the roof of the tallest building.

“What are we doing up here?” Rhodey asked eyeing Tony as the boy laid down on the roof.

“Stargazing.” Tony answered, and Rhodey only shrugged before laying down next to Tony.

“Any particular reason why?”

“Well I thought I could show you my favorite spot.” Tony replied while messing with his hair, that desperately needed a haircut, nervously. “Also there’s a meteor shower tonight.”

“Is this where you go most nights?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you for showing me this.”

“Thank you for putting up with me.” Tony thanked with a quiet chuckle, and when he saw the first shooting star for the night he made a silent wish that Rhodey would stay his friend even when they parted ways after graduation.

But now — now Tony hates the stars, now Tony hates space.

Of course the one joy in his life that had never left him, was now the thing that scared him most — and it was all because of that damn wormhole.

He saw the army that came through it, and he saw the army that was left in it. He felt the suit shut down, the dead weight it became as he was left suspended in space, the cold seeping into the suit, the suffocation of no longer having oxygen, the fear yet almost sense of peace that had consumed him because maybe this was what Yinsen meant when he had said “don’t waste your life”. Tony had always thought the parts of space he couldn’t see were full of nothingness aside from the stars and the asteroids and the meteoroids and the planets. It wasn’t supposed to be filled with an army that was ready to take over the world. It just wasn’t.

Anytime he closed his eyes and saw that army he would see the little dots of stars with it. His greatest joy and his worst fear in the same place. It shouldn’t be like that, but he supposes that he doesn’t deserve to have that joy.

That’s the worst part about the whole situation; now he doesn’t have his one joy. He can’t go outside at night anymore — seeing the stars is too suffocating, it’s like he’s going through the wormhole all over again.

Going to a roof and looking at the stars used to be Tony’s favorite thing to do, but now it’s too terrifying to even think about.

For years after the Battle of New York, Tony avoided going outside at night at all cost. The fear even extended further than not going outside. Inside the tower any room he was in at night, the windows had to be blocked out with some sort of scenery. If there was just black it made him claustrophobic — too similar to the feeling he got while stuck in the cave in Afghanistan.

The thing is, Tony did try to get over the fear. It wasn’t like he didn’t try at all. But anytime he would go outside or look out the windows after dark, he would have a panic attack. He tried so many times, especially after his therapist had said to try it for exposure therapy, but it ended the same way every time. It was too debilitating to keep doing.

After the whole “Civil War” debacle with Steve and recruiting Spider-Man/Peter Parker in the process, then offering a real internship to Peter after the whole Homecoming fiasco, Tony had built a sort of strong relationship with the kid. He wasn’t exactly sure what he would call it because mentor and mentee was too formal, but father and son was too intimate, they were somewhere in between but Tony wasn’t sure what exactly that was.

Peter would come to the compound Wednesdays and Fridays after school for lab days and more recently had started spending every other weekend at the compound because that was when May worked night shifts. Tonight was one of those weekends. Tony knew that the kid noticed how he kept the windows after it got dark, or how if Peter was going home after dark Happy would drive him, but if it was still light then Tony would, but he never said anything, for which Tony was grateful. Regardless, the fact that Peter didn’t ask was a constant worry within his mind. He would get paranoid that Peter would ask and he would have to explain, to the point that more than once he had spaced out with that running thought and Peter would snap him out of his head.

This stupid fear affected all aspects of his life and it sucked. Tony wanted to be able to go outside and look at the stars again, he wanted to be excited to learn about space again, but anytime he thought about it, all he could see was that goddamn army. It didn’t matter that the Battle of New York had happened over 4 years ago, he could see the army as clearly as the day he saw it in his mind.

Granted his was improving slightly, so in a few small aspects it could be considered a win. Now there could be one or two windows that were not blocked out in a room and every once in a while on a really good day he could drive when it was dark, the only criteria for that being he couldn’t get out of his car until he was back in the tower or compound garage. It was miniscule, but it was progress nonetheless and he was told to be proud of his progress even if it was small. Either way, even though he was proud of his little bit of progress, he was still terrified that Peter would ask about it. He did not want to explain it because explaining meant reliving what had happened and it wasn’t like he could just brush it off as nothing. Or could he? Well probably not because Peter was smart and-

“Mr. Stark, did you hear my question?” Peter asked tapping Tony on the arm causing him to jump slighting and pulling himself out of his thoughts.

“No, sorry kiddo, what did you say?” Tony questioned, mentally cursing at himself for going so far into his head that he missed something Peter said.

“I asked if you knew about the meteor shower tonight.”

Tony froze and forced himself to take a deep breath and hoped that Peter didn’t notice the reaction. He had stopped paying attention to any sort of space event years ago. In the past he kept up with the events because he loved to find the best spot to watch them all, but now- oh right Peter.

“No.” Tony answered, unsure of how long he was silent for and hoped it wasn’t too long. “I don’t keep up with those. Why?”

“Well I figured the roof of the compound would be a good place to watch it and I was wondering if we could maybe do that instead of watching a movie tonight?”

“I-” Tony started, but quickly cut himself off unsure of what he was even going to say. Of course he never wanted to say no to Peter, especially since the kid looked and sounded excited about this, how could Tony take that away from him? But at the same time, the amount of panic that crept up into Tony was overwhelming. He could probably say that Peter was welcome to go up to the roof by himself, or he could possibly ask if he wanted Pepper to go up with him, but Peter had specifically asked Tony if they could watch it together.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Peter quickly added most likely picking up on Tony’s nervous silence and now that he was attempting to focus on what was going on inside his body, probably the tense body language as well.

“N-no, it’s okay we can do that if you want.” Tony forced himself to say, trying his best to suppress the pure terror that was forming a pit in his stomach. He didn’t want to disappoint Peter, and he had a feeling that if he said no, not only would he have to explain why, but Peter would look like a kicked puppy and that was too sad to look at.

“Really?” Peter squeaked, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Yeah. When does it start?”

If he knew when it was, then at least he could try to mentally prepare himself before they went up and maybe then he wouldn’t have a panic attack while they were on the roof, only after the fact.

“In about two hours I think.” Peter said after a quick glance at his watch.

Alright two hours. Tony could do two hours. That gave him time to run through many scenarios in his head, which probably wasn’t a good thing to do, but he would do that, and it would give him time to change into clothes that he knew would feel less suffocating during an attack and it just gave him time to prepare, but it also gave him time to overthink.

“Okay.” Tony replied with a nod, already running through different scenarios in his head. “Do you wanna go ahead and order dinner so we can eat before we head up?”

Peter nodded and somewhere distant Tony heard himself ask FRIDAY to order their usual Friday night dinner, shawarma’s and fries, which oh what a coincidence the first meal he had after the wormhole was the last meal he would have before forcing himself to look at the stars. Honestly the fact the still ate shawarma considering it’s association with that traumatic event was a bit odd, but a thing in his brain that Tony would not question because he did enjoy shawarma nights with Peter.

Time moved with a blur. Tony remembers going through the motions but not much else. He knows he and Peter ate and he knows he changed his clothes and grabbed his weighted blanket that he held tightly around his body hoping that the weight of the blanket would keep him grounded. And somehow through all of the blur he ended up on the roof of the compound with Peter and a stack of blankets. Said kid was laying down on a blanket with his head resting on a makeshift pillow made of a different blanket and Tony — well Tony was sitting criss cross next to Peter, his blank eyes staring forward in an attempt to keep the sky out of his view, with a weighted blanket wrapped around him not doing much to keep him grounded.

Maybe it was better that he was outside with Peter rather than alone or with someone else, because he was no way in hell comfortable enough to have a full blown panic attack in front of the kid — hence the more internalized panic attack.

The longer they sat outside the more anxious Tony became. With some situations it was the opposite, he would calm down and become more comfortable with the situation the longer he was in it, but for this situation, Tony was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. At some point he had started rocking himself back and forth after pulling his knees to his chest and continued to force himself to take slow and deep calculated breaths. He wasn’t sure how long he continued to do this before he ducked his head against his chest and rested his forehead on his knees while squeezing his eyes shut. Even having the smallest bit of the sky in his view was too much now.

It wasn’t until he felt a hand on the upper part of his arm that he froze in place only now remembering that he wasn’t alone, Peter was outside with him, and Peter had just watched him have a sort of panic attack and that wasn’t good because Peter didn’t need to deal with his crap because Peter already had his own crap he didn’t need Tony’s piled onto it and god it was just so selfish of Tony to even have a panic attack in front of Peter when he knew- he knows that Peter has his own sometimes and Tony panicking could possibly trigger Peter then both of them would be panicking and that's even worse and-

“Mr. Stark are you okay?” Peter asked.

Tony wasn’t sure if he could hear hesitance in Peter’s voice or if it was something else which meant Peter was probably scared to ask Tony this and Tony never wanted him to be scared of asking him things which Tony had made very clear but-

“Mr. Stark.” Peter said again and this time Tony forced himself to focus on the weight of Peter’s hand.

Tony nodded to answer Peter’s question and hoped the kid would just let it go.

“Do you need to go inside?”

Tony shook his head. He would stay outside because Peter wanted to stay outside, it would be selfish of him to go inside and either leave Peter out here alone or force him to come inside with Tony.

“Are you sure?” Peter questioned and Tony nodded his head to confirm that he was fine. “What do you need me to do then?”

At this, Tony shrugged. He wasn’t sure what Peter could do to possibly help him. Sure it did feel a bit safer with Peter out here with him, and this was probably the longest he had stayed outside in the dark since New York, so that was a win. But aside from Peter just being out here he wasn’t sure what he needed that didn’t involve going inside, and not knowing what he needed didn’t help the situation.

There was a silence for a few moments where Tony could only hear Peter’s soft breaths and his own thoughts, but it was the calmest— no the lightest he’s felt since being outside. He wasn’t calm by any stretch, but it did feel like some sort of weight within him was lifted somehow.

“Do you know any constellations?” Peter asked, breaking the silence.

Tony knew all the constellations that could be seen from New York by heart because of the number of times he had traveled the state with his parents. So he pointed above himself drawing a familiar pattern he knew by heart and knew exactly where it would be in the sky this time of year, April specifically.

“Ursa Minor.” Tony whispered. “Commonly the Little Dipper or Little Bear.”

“Is there a story behind Ursa Minor?” Peter asked.

Though Tony was unsure if Peter was asking because he was genuinely curious or if he just wanted Tony to keep talking, Tony told the short version of the story that he knew. “Ursa Minor is Arcas, the son of Zeus and Callisto also known as Ursa Major.” Tony paused and shifted his hand to the left and traced out another pattern of stars that made up Ursa Major. “Because of Zeus’ jealous wife Hera, Arcas and Callisto were changed into bears and placed in the sky by Zeus in order to be protected from Hera.”

When Tony finished the story he made himself look up at the sky to allow the true shapes of the constellations that his brain and eyes supplied for him after years of staring at them. For some reason looking up and tracing out the shapes was almost comforting, it wasn’t as terrifying as it had been only minutes before or how it had been the past 4 or so years.

“Are there any others you can see right now?”

Tony moved his point to the left again and traced out another set of stars. “That’s Leo, like the lion.”

Before Peter could ask Tony started telling the story of Leo and how he came to be in the sky. After originating on the moon, the lion could not be killed by weapons and terrorized the city of Nemea in ancient Greece. Hercules then killed the lion as one of his twelve labors and Zeus returned Leo to space by placing his image among the stars.

The night continued like this, Tony pointing out all the constellations he knew and telling the story that went with it. And slowly Tony did feel the panic and anxiety leave his body as he told Peter these stories that he had told himself so many times before. Every so often they would see a shooting star and every time Tony wished he could thank Peter for being here with him and helping him.

Space was a quiet starry place that Tony used to love until he found fear in it. But now space was slowly becoming safe again and Tony was finding his love for it again all because Peter wanted to see a meteor shower. Here with Peter up on the roof, Tony had relaxed a little and had pulled his kid close to his side while telling him story upon story of different constellations because here with Peter; he was safe.

#Tony Stark #Peter Parker #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #do not tag as ship #not st*rker #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #ao3

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terramythos · 3 years

Text

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 16 of 26

Title: Tales From Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle #5) (2001)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Short Story Collection, Novella, Third-Person, Female Protagonist

Rating: 8/10 (note: this is an average)

Date Began: 7/2/2021

Date Finished: 7/6/2021

Tales From Earthsea is a collection of five short stories and novellas which take place in the Earthsea universe. In addition, there’s a supplementary timeline of Earthsea’s history, tradition, and cultural details of note. The last story in the collection, Dragonfly, serves as a bridge between Tehanu (#4) and The Other Wind (#6), the final book in the series.

Of the five stories, my favorites (both 10/10s) were The Finder and On The High Marsh.

The way one does research into nonexistent history is to tell the story and find out what happened. I believe this isn’t very different from what historians of the so-called real world do. Even if we are present at some historic event, do we comprehend it— can we even remember it— until we can tell it in a story?

Content warnings, individual ratings/commentary, and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Death and violence, child abuse (including implied sexual abuse), police brutality, slavery, reference to torture and execution, brief reference to inc*st, misogyny, animal cruelty, mild body horror, very brief implied mind control via a "love charm" (it doesn't work).

#1 - The Finder (10/10)

In The Dark Time, magic is widely mistrusted. Petty tyrants use the once noble art in pursuit of power and glory. Medra, the son of a shipwright in Havnor, has magical talents honed in secret. One day, he curses a ship built for a warlord’s fleet. Unfortunately, he gets caught and sent to a prison camp. There he is forced to use finding magic to locate veins of cinnabar.

The prison exists to refine quicksilver, a substance the most powerful mage on the island believes will turn him into a god. While in the refinery, Medra feels a spiritual connection to a dying slave, a young woman named Anieb. The two of them devise a plan to kill the mage and escape. Medra’s journey eventually takes him to the island of Roke and the founding of its prestigious wizard school.

‘The dead are dead. The great and mighty go their way unchecked. All the hope left in the world is in the people of no account.’

I really enjoyed this novella. The Dark Time is largely unexplored in the stories of Earthsea, so it was interesting to read about it here. I get the feeling that we’re approaching or in the middle of one such time in the real world, so seeing a version of it on the page is depressing yet hopeful. The story is dark; mass feudal warfare, a literal concentration camp in the opening half, widespread enslavement, and abuse of power. But it also offers hope and the promise of change. The story also explores the integral role of women in not only the preservation of magic in a bleak age of humanity, but the very foundation of Roke.

Medra’s story spoke to me; how he resists the despotic powers-that-be, his connection with Anieb even after her tragic death, and how despite his disillusionment with humanity, he ultimately fights to create a better world. I also thought Gelluk was a horrifying villain. He’s characterized as a soft-spoken, almost kindly man who loves children and animals— yet his narrative thoughts involve burning hundreds of slaves alive in order to better fuel the quicksilver refinery. “Nice doesn’t mean good” taken to an extreme, and a mirror of many villains in the real world.

Le Guin was anti-capitalist, but that way of thinking seems peripheral in the Earthsea series. The Finder, however, definitely has a Marxist reading in it. A recurring theme is the disenfranchised rising up against the powerful. Indeed both antagonists, who are despotic wizards of great power, are soundly defeated by groups of people they consider powerless. Magic is only considered relevant for the value and power it produces, an idea antithetical to the rest of the series. The quicksilver refinery also embraces anti-capitalist rhetoric; this section focuses on how mass enslavement and death is used to manufacture a meaningless commodity only one person “benefits” from. That’s not even getting into the prison-industrial complex.

I dunno. This story slaps. It’s not at all what I expected from a Roke origin story.

#2 - Diamond and Darkrose (5/10)

Diamond, the son of a prosperous lumber merchant, struggles to find his true calling in life. His father disapproves of almost everything he does, including his close friendship with the local witch’s daughter Rose. While he loves music, his father derides his talents and forces him to abandon the pursuit. When Diamond shows some promise in magic, he travels to a neighboring town to serve as the local wizard’s apprentice. But when this path estranges him from Rose, he grows disillusioned.

Rose had looked after herself from an early age; and this was one of the reasons Diamond loved her. With her, he knew what freedom was. Without her, he could attain it only when he was hearing and singing and playing music.

I did not like this story very much. I gave Diamond and Darkrose a 5/10 because it’s competently written (duh), and the protagonist has a character arc not entirely dependent on the central romance. But that’s about all I can say for it.

None of the characters are especially appealing. Diamond’s mentor figures are all extremely narrow-minded. Rose, supposedly his true love since childhood, drops him the moment things become difficult. And Diamond himself is a pushover who only grows a spine and pursues his dreams at the end of the story. I understand that’s his character flaw and his arc is about overcoming that. But due to all these factors, I was annoyed by every major character. The only person I didn’t dislike was Diamond’s mother, who only shows up for a couple of scenes.

Someone please tell me there are love stories out there where the romantic tension is NOT based on a fucking MISUNDERSTANDING. That shit drives me up a wall! It’s so overdone and painful to read.

#3 - The Bones of the Earth (8/10)

Dulse is an aging wizard on the island of Gont, reflecting on his life and relationship with his former apprentice, a young man he calls Silence. But he senses something amiss on the island; a massive earthquake poised to destroy a nearby port town and its inhabitants. To avert disaster, Dulse realizes he must turn to an ancient form of magic taught to him long ago— and he needs Silence’s help to save the town.

In there he knew he should hurry, that the bones of the earth ached to move, and that he must become them to guide them, but he could not hurry. There was on him the bewilderment of any transformation. He had in his day been fox, and bull, and dragonfly, and knew what it was to change being. But this was different, this slow enlargement. I am vastening, he thought.

So I’ve always liked Ogion in the main series; I love the idea of an immensely powerful wizard who lives an unassuming life of silence, contemplation, and appreciation of the natural world. In The Bones of the Earth, we get a glimpse of Ogion through his mentor’s eyes. Ogion’s heroism and how he stopped the earthquake is mentioned several times in the main series, but this is our first look at what actually happened.

Dulse is an unexpected and fascinating perspective character. It would be so easy to tell this story wholly from Ogion’s perspective, but I think making Dulse the protagonist was the right call. In particular, Dulse’s mind is starting to go. Le Guin presents this by utilizing flashbacks and connecting them to the present. This technique conveys Dulse’s disorientation and confusion so the reader experiences it alongside him... it’s hard to describe without actually reading the story. I also loved the little twist at the end regarding where Dulse learned the ancient magic that saves the island. There’s also a strong thematic connection to The Farthest Shore; death and becoming one with the rest of the world.

#4 - On The High Marsh (10/10)

A half-mad wanderer named Irioth comes upon a small settlement on the volcanic, marshy island of Semel. A murrain has been devastating the local cattle population, and Irioth offers his powers as a curer to heal the animals. He settles into a calm rural life with Gift, a widow working a small dairy. Though Gift likes Irioth, and the animals instinctively trust him, she senses something amiss with the man. Soon, Irioth’s dark past threatens to return and disturb the peace.

“Oh, yes,” Irioth said. “It was my fault.” But she forgave, and the grey cat was pressed up against his thigh, dreaming. The cat’s dreams came into his mind, in the low fields where he spoke with the animals, the dusky places. The cat leapt there, and then there was milk, and the deep soft thrilling. There was no fault, only the great innocence. No need for words. They would not find him here. He was not here to find. There was no need to speak any name. There was nobody but her, and the cat dreaming, and the fire flickering. He had come over the dead mountain on black roads, but here the streams ran slow among the pastures.

This story is a banger. It has a Western vibe— a stranger coming into a cattle town haunted by a mysterious past. Also cowboys. It’s an atmospheric story, and I think hits on the “small rural town” vibe better than Tehanu did. But there were several writing choices I especially liked.

We don’t learn Irioth’s name until a little while into the story; his physical description, temperament, and ability to immediately identify Gift’s true name just by looking at her makes one assume he’s Ged. He’s also got an interesting redemption arc, because it’s presented in a reverse order. We see Irioth’s genuine desire to do good, and his gentle and patient manner with animals and other people. He doesn’t even consider asking for payment for curing the murrain until Gift tells him he should. But there’s a sense that something is off; he’s paranoid, clearly running from something. The use-name he picks is Otak, a fictional ferret-like creature— which Gift asserts looks nice, but has sharp teeth.

Near the end, Ged actually does show up and explain what happened to Irioth. They have pretty similar backstories; both were powerful, arrogant young mages who messed with forces they shouldn’t have, then went through great personal sacrifice to right the wrong (oh god the initial deception was intentional they’re narrative foils oh god). Ged embraced the darkest aspects of himself to avert calamity. Irioth came to Semel to escape Roke and atone by helping others. One detail I especially liked was that Irioth once considered healing beneath him, but now he takes a deep joy in using it to help.

#5 - Dragonfly (8/10)

Irian lives a solitary life-- her father is a drunkard living in the ruins of their family’s once prosperous estate. Her closest relationship is with the local village witch, who named her in secret in the dead of night. When a disgraced young wizard named Ivory comes to town, he sees Irian as a potential conquest. To gain power over her, he hatches a scheme; disguise Irian as a man, travel to Roke, and sneak her into the male-only wizard school— humiliating the great Masters.

But Irian is restless. She knows she has power, but her true nature is a mystery even to her. Irian sees Ivory’s plan as an opportunity to find answers from the most powerful wizards in the world. When the Doorkeeper actually lets her into the school, she finds herself in a magical and political conflict over the future of Roke— and discovers what exactly she is.

“Dark is bad,” said the Patterner. “Eh?”

Irian drew a deep breath and looked at him eye to eye as they sat there. “Only in dark the light,” she said.

This is one of those stories that has a rocky start, but a great second half. The first part of the novella felt dry to me; I’ve read plenty of tales about social outcasts with weird, unexplainable powers. On top of this, a chunk of the early narration is from Ivory’s POV, and he’s a complete tool. That can be a fun perspective to take, and I like the fact that he thinks he’s manipulating Irian when she’s the one pulling the strings. But since he’s an irrelevant character who disappears from the story halfway through, it feels like a waste to devote a huge chunk of the story to him.

However, once Irian arrives at Roke, the story gets much more interesting. Her presence at Roke causes a huge scandal that divides the Masters. Women being forbidden from Roke is a Series Thing at this point, but Earthsea is in an era of change (although I DO question that she’s the first woman to try it). The Finder demonstrated that women were pivotal in the foundation of Roke, something largely erased from history. Barring women stems from a power hungry bigot codifying it into tradition.

Irian finds some unexpected allies--minor characters in the previous books. The Doorkeeper continues to be the coolest motherfucker there. The Patterner is a major character in this story; he was in just one scene in The Farthest Shore, so I liked learning more about him. The Namer is the kind of guy you’d expect to be a stodgy traditionalist, so him siding with Irian is surprising. The Summoner, a heroic figure in previous books and stories, is a sinister villain here. As for the ending, well… if you didn’t see it coming, I’d wonder if you even read Tehanu. The same hints are there.

There were little particulars I liked, such as Irian moving into a decrepit hut that’s definitely Medra’s old home. My favorite detail is that this story has a parallel scene with The Finder. In The Finder, there’s a scene where an antagonist, Early, invades Roke in the form of a dragon. He lands on Roke Knoll, a site of power that reveals one’s true form. It turns him back into a human, leaving him defenseless when the residents of Roke attack him and repel his invasion. The reversal happens in Dragonfly. Irian gets attacked by one of the Masters while at Roke Knoll — and its magic turns her into her true form, a dragon. Props to whoever picked the cover design, since it references both scenes.

#6 - A Description of Earthsea

I’m not rating this since it’s basically a lore dump. It’s a deep dive into Earthsea’s history, languages, cultures, and other relevant world details. It’s the kind of bonus info a lot of fantasy series tack on as reference material. According to Le Guin, she wrote this to get some idea of the timeline on each of these stories.

As a series, Earthsea has relatively little worldbuilding exposition. Sometimes characters reference legends or historical events, but usually the reader lacks the context to fully understand them. The focus is more on the lives of the characters and their personal experience of the world. I think something like A Description of Earthsea has benefits and drawbacks for the reader. On one hand it's nice to have some definitive information to tie things together. On the other, this does represent a loss of some of the mystery in the story.

I think this is the first thing in the series that even mentions homosexuality, so props for that I guess?

Closing Thoughts

A short story collection is always going to have high and low points. I tend to look at each story individually and score that way, but an average is always misleading. Diamond and Darkrose dragged the score down since there were only five stories total. But I enjoyed the majority of them. I am interested to see where the human/dragon subplot goes in the final installment; I assume Irian will show up at some point? We’ll see.

#taylor reads #8/10 #2021 reading challenge #almost done with this series!

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palepinkycat · 3 years

Note

Regarding Asha - Tell us about her feelings regarding her companions, whether they were "canon" or otherwise.

Aaa thank you so much for asking, this was super fun to write! Also, sorry for taking so long, really wanted to include drawings in this post.

Alek - Well... Asha doesn't really think much of Alek lol He's just that one "Tall Revanite" who talks way too much, follows his friend mindlessly and apparently enjoys it. And he snores. A lot. Asha likes teasing him from time to time but he's usually not bright enough to come up with a smart response. 2/10, boooring.

Dalitasaar - This one's even worse than Alek. The Tall Revanite asks tons of stupid questions but it's easy to make him stop. Dalitasaar NEVER shuts up. His frivolous talk's driving Asha crazy. He often talks about things things that make her feel uncomfortable. This Sith has no shame. He's also smarter than he lets on, or so others say. Asha doesn't really agree with their opinion. The spy kills quietly, unnoticed. Where's the fun in that? 1/10, he respects the nature and those tiny, horrid creatures. Disgusting.

(Asha doesn't want others to know about her fear of insects, she's very self-conscious about it. That one time Dalitasaar caught a grasshopper and wanted to show it to her. It was a... terrible experience.)

Revan - Asha has very mixed feelings towards Revan. He's the one who frees her and - most importantly - doesn't expect anything in return. He allows her to leave, just like that. It surprises her. She decides to go with him. Why? She doesn't know. It's not like she has a place to go anyway, she might as well try. She's mean, bloodthirsty and refuses to follow orders. She insults him, makes sarcastic remarks and laughs at everything that's important to Revan's people. She's testing his patience, it amuses her. She has nothing to lose. And Revan? Nothing seems to bother him. He laughs with her, makes even more sarcastic remarks, always asks her opinions and respects her boundaries. He's probably one of the smartest people she's ever met. Not that she's met a lot of them but... She hates him and she loves him. (Platonically, of course) She hates the fact that he makes her care. She considers him a friend, even though she only admits it a handful of times. It feels awkward but she does. She owes him a lot. When she realises he's been lying to her abour everything, how he used the Star Forge, how he made a deal with Kreia, how he tricked Alek and so on... She's dissapointed, furious and hurt. It confuses her, she doesn't even know what to call these feelings. Most of her life she's known nothing but rage so she sticks to what she knows best - she screams, bangs on the walls and destroys everything in sight until Arren stops her.

Arren - An old (Arren's in her late forties actually, Asha's just being Asha) rather cranky lady with little to no personality. She'll probably die in one of the upcoming battles. Arren seems like a perfect person to make fun of. A few talks later however, the old lady surprises Asha with a bunch of clever comebacks. It really catches her off guard. She starts teasing her even more and Arren plays Asha's little game by teasing her back. That's how their friendship starts. It's hard for Asha to describe her feelings towards Arren. She loves this woman more than anything in the world. She is her mentor, her best friend, someone who helps her deal with all the new, confusing emotions she's experiencing. She's the reason Asha grows and changes so much. She's the reason Asha decides to fight for her family and most importantly, for herself. It's a long way to go and Arren's always there to accompany her on that journey. Asha tries to protect this (not so) fragile lady at all costs. She'd gladly give her life for hers.

Felair - Oh, Asha hates Felair. She reminds her of the so called Rakatan scientists - she's obnoxious, foolish and definitely has a hidden agenda. Asha doesn't trust her at all. Of course she'd never admit it but she's concerned about Revan and she'd happily destroy this relationship of theirs.

Edessa - At first Asha considers her naive, perhaps even stupid. Edessa keeps challenging Asha's views and it annoys her. She makes her think about things she's never cared about and somehow she finds meaning in Edessa's words. Well, she doesn't agree with everything she says but the way she speaks about things that are important to her is... inspiring. Admirable. Asha enjoys their little talks. She trusts her and feels comfortable in her company. Edessa becomes the person Asha turns to with every stupid or awkward question she'd never ask someone else. She talks to her about everything. Literally. Edessa's always kind, compassionate and never judges her. She treats Asha like a person. She calls her her sister in arms. (Asha's heart melts everytime she says that) Also, Edessa always has the most juicy gossips. 10/10 best person to spill the tea with.

Rosvur - Ah, Rosvur... What a nice thing to look at... Asha changes a lot in his presence. Suddenly she's no longer that snarky, sarcastic killing machine most people know her as. She giggles, stutters, she gets all tounge-tied. She listens to everything he says, she asks tons of questions and apologises for being nosy. Thank whatever higher power lesser beings believe in, she's physically unable to blush... Because she definitely would. Rosvur is the first person she doesn't consider "lesser" or annoying and starts talking to. It works both ways, actually. Rosvur hasn't said a single word ever since Revan took him captive - and then Asha came. Somehow these two find a connection. His strength and skill in battle are impressive even for a "lesser being" but what really attracts Asha to him are his unique views and personality. Asha's never met any Mandalorian before but she wants to learn more and more about their culture, mainly thanks to Rosvur. They spend days sparring, talking about conquest and admiring each other. He makes her feel special, he compliments her all the time. He keeps reminding her that she's not a weapon, that she's way more than that. He helps her realise it. No one's ever treated her this way, not that she can remember. (R.I.P her ex-fiancé ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) She develops very strong feelings towards him.

✨ Fun fact ✨ Asha promised Rosvur to find him as soon she regained her mortality. Joining the Mandalorians has been her intention ever since the two of them got close. She managed to reach their camp and spent a few weeks living among them before realising Rosvur didn't tell her everything about the the ways of his people. He never mentioned what exactly were dar'mandas or how they'd force others to swear by the Resol'nare under the threat of death. Asha saw how brainwashed he truly was when he refused to act when his soldiers imprisoned her. She was too weak to fight, still vulnerable and learning everything anew. It felt like becoming a slave to the Rakatans all over again. She left the beskad Rosvur once gave her in his tent and escaped as soon as they released her. It wasn't an easy decision but she wouldn't give up her freedom for anyone. Not again.

#kotor #revan #alek squinquargesimus #darth malak #jarael #asha really believed the resoln'are was all about conquest and equality #she sees a grumpy buffy mando and just 🤩#thank you once again this ask made my day!!#my art #oc:felair #miraluka #oc:asha #arren kae #oc:rosvur #mandalorian

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