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russiandoll-from-brooklyn · 3 years

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Just Once - Part 2

Title: Just Once - Part 2

Some of y'all were asking for Part 2 of Just Once so here ya go! This picks up right after the first story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!reader

Summary: Grief and loneliness got the best of you last night. Your friendship with Tony was too precious to risk, and now all you want to do is move on. But what happens when the other party doesn't want to forget?

Warnings: smut, language, (technically) cheating, friends to lovers, mentions of past canon trauma, oral (f receiving), protected sex

Word Count: 5.1k

[Starts out sweet and all about tony x reader friendship, then turns into steamy Tony smut. Table sex, included. 😳]

---

Thump, thump, thump.

Your feet hit the pavement rhythmically as you jog your normal morning route. It’s a misty Seattle morning, and the world is still quiet. The sun is rising sleepily, beginning to bathe the world in gold. All is well.

Except. It isn’t.

You turn the block corner, and your apartment comes into sight. You take a glance down at your watch.

42 minutes.

That’s how long ago you had quietly slipped out of your apartment for your morning run. That’s how long it had been since your eyes shot open and you remembered the events of last night, rushing into your mind, all at once like a tsunami. You had turned your head to find Tony still asleep beside you in the bed. One leg sticking out of the messy sheets and his face buried in the pillow. Your pillow.

You had stared at him in disbelief, half-expecting him to disintegrate into a fleeting figment of your imagination. You had rubbed your eyes, trying to clear the haze.

Nope. Still there.

You silently curse yourself and your stupidity (see: weakness in the face of sexual temptation) for the 50th time this morning as you approach the brick building. Perhaps, when you reenter your apartment, Tony will be gone, and this will all have just been a bad trip — or something of the like.

Before you even open the door, the smell of frying bacon reaches your nose. You step inside and are greeted by a peculiar sight.

Tony Stark, clad in nothing but a pair of dark jeans, is buzzing about your small kitchenette. Simultaneously, there are eggs being flipped over-easy on the stovetop, orange juice being procured from the open fridge, bacon sizzling happily in a pan, and toast being buttered. You stand in amazement for a few seconds, processing the scene before you. The wonderful aroma of the all-American breakfast makes you mouth water.

“Y/N! Hey!” Tony exclaims when he sees you.

You slide onto a stool at the bar top, overlooking the controlled chaos unfolding in the kitchen area. Tony truly has remarkable skill when it comes to multitasking. You guess, all that time in the suit, operating about twenty computing systems at once, was good practice.

“Wow. Breakfast?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. “Since when do you cook?”

He scoffs, shooting you a brief smile before turning away to rapidly crack some black pepper onto the eggs.

“Cooking is easy. People think it’s a skill, but really it’s just planning, timing it out. It’s like assembling anything else. You just do the parts in order, trying not to break any yolks.”

You roll your eyes sarcastically at the classic “Tony” response.

Suddenly, all the components come crashing together, and Tony is setting down two perfectly assembled breakfast plates on the bar top — complete with a glass of orange juice for each of you. It looks delicious; it’s been way too long since you had a proper breakfast. Meaning, a breakfast that wasn’t cereal, a protein bar, or a bowl of sad, pale, scrambled eggs. You thank Tony as he pulls up the other stool to sit across from you.

“Dig in,” he says cheerfully, raising his fork. “Good run this morning?”

You nod, taking a big gulp of orange juice.

“Yeah, I heard you leaving,” Tony continues mindlessly. “Kind of weird waking up to an empty bed after a night like that. I finally know what it feels like to be on the other side, I guess.”

You nearly spit out your bite of toast. And just like that, reality comes crashing back down to earth. For a brief moment, it had felt like things could possibly come out normal on the other side. You and Tony could go back to being perfectly normal best friends.

How ignorant.

“What?” you remark incredulously.

You’re on the verge of laughter, partially out of amusement but mostly out of bewildered embarrassment.

Tony gives you his award-winning “I’m innocent!” raised-eyebrow expression. You suddenly become acutely aware of the situation. Tony Stark is sitting in your kitchen, shirtless, serving you breakfast. After you spent a far-from-platonic night rolling around your sheets together. You want to slap yourself.

“I’m talking about the incredible sex we had last night. And then, you leaving me alone before sunrise,” Tony explains casually, pushing your buttons further. “That's usually my play.”

He looks up at you, expecting a playful quip in return. Instead, you just slowly set down the fork you had been gripping.

“Tony,” you begin, seriously and calmly. “Let’s not talk about it. It was one night, and it won’t happen again. It was just once. We gave into the moment, but we shouldn’t-“

“The moment?” Tony suddenly blurts out, interrupting you. You purse your lips, surprised by the new and unexpected edge of anger in his voice. “God. Y/N. The moment, huh? You’re really just going to shrink it down to that. Just a moment.”

You stare at him, confused. Tony’s big brown eyes hold yours with an intensity. It's amazing how fast his sarcastic, playful tone can morph into ferocity. You want to look away, break his gaze, but you can’t. This whole thing was a mistake.

“It was fun,” you finally say. “But it was just a fuck. We were lonely.”

“You know, Y/N. You’re so damn smart,” Tony replies, leaning back a bit in his seat. “So, why do you always try and kid yourself? It bothers me. I know -- that you know -- that this wasn’t just a fuck.”

Your mind races through a million different responses.

Then, what was it?

What do you mean?

Why are you acting like this?

I'm not kidding myself.

But something tells you, deep down, that there's nothing you can say that won't lead to something you don't want to hear.

So, instead, you angrily snatch up your glass of orange juice, rising from your seat at the bar. You grit your teeth at Tony one more time before turning your back and striding toward to your study. You feel your cheeks burning hot.

The study is a second living room-sized space where you keep all your projects. Early sunlight is now streaming in through the large windows, falsely giving the impression of a peaceful Saturday morning. The large wooden table tops are littered with wires, microchips, and other electronic parts. When you first met the Avengers year ago, you and Tony butted heads over your shared expertise in technology and robotics. After much bickering and trying to outdo each other, you eventually accepted one another's intelligence and bonded over your shared field.

You look to the floor of your large study to see the air mattress you had set up there prior to Tony's arrival yesterday, obviously still pristine. You squeeze your eyes shut. Your apartment is absolutely dripping with reminders of last night's events. The empty whiskey glasses, still sitting on the side table in the living room. The couch pillows crumpled from the weight of your bodies, hungrily crashing together above them. You don't even want to think about your bedroom, where you're sure Tony's missing shirt is strewn on the ground.

You push the thoughts out of your your mind, pulling up a seat at your work table. You start to fiddle with a new lightweight shoulder pauldron you're currently designing. You can feel yourself going into 'shut-out' mode, trying your hardest to focus all your attention on the metal in your hands. This was all too much. This was all wrong.

When you hear footsteps behind you, entering the study, you ignore it. Tony quietly traverses the floor, coming to pull up a chair on the other side of the work table. He silently watches you working the wires into place. You don't look up. You don't have to see his expression to know the contemplative expression undoubtably painted on his face. You also don't have to look at him to know he's pondering more than just your work.

"You know, aluminum-titantium alloy won't hold up after a few heavy hits," Tony comments, nodding to the armor piece.

"I'm gonna chromatize it," you reply dryly, not looking up from your hands.

"I wouldn't bother. You can't just give everything a shiny coat to hold it together. If the problem is underneath, that is."

Fuck Tony and his fucking metaphors.

You growl angrily, throwing the pauldron down in frustration. You sit back in your seat and cross your arms, finally meeting your friend's eyes.

"Ok, fine," you say matter-of-factly. "Let's talk about it. It was good. It was really fucking good. And we both needed it. But that's it. I'm willing to leave it at that and forget about it if you are."

Tony rubs his beard in his palm, seemingly mulling over your words. His brown eyes don't leave yours. The warm sunlight coming in through the window behind him paints yellow patches on his bare shoulders, bathing him in gold. You take a mental picture of him, sitting there in his thoughts. A brief, intrusive thought passes through your mind, threatening that this could be the last time you see him. You immediately banish the notion. This friendship means too much to you. Not even a fuck-up as big as this one could make you want to toss it away. You hope Tony agrees.

"Help me understand where your head's at, Y/N," Tony finally replies. "What is your biggest concern right now? Wait, listen, I know there's a lot of reasons why last night was bad. But I want to know what you're thinking."

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. As much as Tony's 'list-and-analyze' reaction to crisis could be annoying, in some ways, it comforted you. Tony is impulsive, yes, but those who know him best also know his calculative nature: the mental risk assessments, the contingency plans labelled through Z. Always searching for the route that will hurt everyone the least. Always.

You consider his question carefully. Again, there's a million answers: the risk of ruining your friendship, the potential awkwardness, Pepper -- oh, god, Pepper --, the pain and grief you've both been through in the past few years. You close your eyes and pick one.

"You're one of the only people left that I trust. One of my only friends. Complexity doesn't often end well."

"You're right," Tony admits. "But aren't you the one who asked, 'is it wrong to not want to be alone'?"

You scoff loudly, angered by his using your words against you. However, that bitterness melts away into nothing when you see the heart-wrenching expression on Tony's face. His lips are pursed, and his eyes are searching yours desperately. Tony rarely shows outward weakness, but right now, the man before you isn't Iron Man. The man before you is broken. Someone who has tried everything to hold it -- his sanity, his relationship, his life -- together, to save the people he loves, to be strong. Someone who failed at that. Someone who truly felt alone.

You rest your chin in your palms and sigh, the weight falling over you as well.

Finally, you speak.

"Isn't it awful -- and strange -- how it can feel like a lifetime ago and just yesterday at the exact same time?"

Tony nods sadly at your observation. Of course, you were talking about the snap. About Thanos.

"You're right. About everything," he remarks. "Sometimes, it just gets too much. The...”

Loneliness. You finish his sentence in your head.

“Me too.”

“You should know though,” Tony continues. “I would never stop being your friend. No matter how complex things are. This — what we’ve been through — could never change, Y/N.”

There it is.

Some situations feel like you're running in circles; you're spiraling downwards and everything you say only makes matters worse and worse. It feels like sinking in quicksand with no way out. In every one of those situations, there's a key -- that one sentence, that one idea, that effortlessly clears the fog. This was it. Tony is going to be here, always. Everything is going to be alright.

You straighten up a bit in your seat. You let out a long sigh and give Tony a small smile.

"I know," you assure your friend. "Sometimes I forget everything that's happened. How complicated it's been before. How we made it out."

Tony laughs, and you're relived.

"How could you forget? It's been a wild ride."

The two of you grin at each other. You take a sip of your orange juice, which you had forgotten about and was now lukewarm.

"OK, happy?" you inquire with a playful tone. "Base material fixed. No need for shiny coats of anything. We're solid now."

Tony lets out a hearty chuckle at the stupid analogy. Suddenly, he stands, circling the work table until he's right in front of you. You suck in a breath of oxygen. From your seated position, your head only comes up to his abs. Bare abs, that is. You tilt your face upwards to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," he says gently. “Stand up.”

Confused, you rise to your feet. Before you can open your mouth to say anything else, Tony’s lean and muscular arms are wrapped around you. He pulls you into his chest, embracing you in his warmth. His grip is firm, as if he’s afraid you might run away. You soften into the hug, wrapping your arms around his back. You feel safe.

After a few moments, Tony releases you. However, he doesn’t move away, and the two of you are still nearly chest-to-chest. You peer up at him, and your friend’s warm toffee eyes meet yours.

“Wow, a Tony Stark hug?” you remark sarcastically. “I should play the lotto today.”

Tony chuckles under his breath. Despite your joking, it was true that Tony rarely gives hugs. He just isn’t the touchy-feely type — according to himself. Somehow this gesture, right now, meant everything. A hug was the most intimate thing Tony could have given you. It was a seal, a mark saying ‘I meant every word I just said.’

Tony is still standing directly in front of you, so close there’s only a magazine’s width between you. He’s so near that you can feel the warmth of his steady breathing, and the slight radiating heat from the arc reactor in his chest. Suddenly, you feel that familiar tug in your stomach. A rush of blood downwards...

“Tony-“

“Do you want me?” Tony cuts you off. His voice is low, gentle.

You suck in a breath of air at his words. Despite his directness, there's a detectable edge of nervousness in his tone. You smile internally at knowing you have this effect on Mr. Playboy. The slight uncertainty in Tony's voice also tells you that it's true: this is different. Last night was not just a mindless fuck. This is an understanding, wrapped around a mutual care that runs so deep that it burns.

You don’t even try to convince yourself that you don’t want Tony. Every ounce of your being is screaming to close the gap between you. You can still hear the scientist-logic-brain in you resisting, but your heart feels at ease. You and Tony. A concept that felt like the forbidden fruit itself just ten minutes ago now looked more like an oasis. And oasis that was maybe alright to take a drink from every once in a while.

You snake one hand upward to hold his cheek. Tony pushes gently into your palm.

It's you who leans in first. When your lips collide, it's soft. He presses himself into you, a delicate sigh escaping. You pull back just enough to whisper a breathy "I want you."

And oh, god do you want him.

“Then, have me,” Tony whispers back, gently.

You nearly visibly shiver. Any trace of hesitation is gone from his voice now. His words are demanding, but his tone is more of a plea.

“Do you want to go the bedroom?”

“No,” Tony replies immediately. He’s breathless. “Right here.”

You immediately feel wetness drop into your panties. Tony’s eyes have grow darker, as they bear down at you. The intensity makes your legs feel weak. You need him. He needs you.

In a moment of boldness, you bring your hands down to the hemline of your shirt. You lift the garment up and over your head, placing it on the work table beside you. Tony’s eyes wander to your red sports bra and your now-stiffened nipples showing through the sleek fabric.

In the next breath, Tony is suddenly kissing you again, his lips against yours in a desperate hunger. He brings his large, roughly calloused hands to your waist. He firmly grips your body, making you feel tiny in his hold. You let a small moan escape your lips.

Still holding you in his grasp, Tony starts to walk you backwards until your backside is pressed against the edge of your large work table. Tony’s hips press forward into you, making you gasp with excitement. You fingertips tangle in his hair, just wanting more and more and more...

In an effortless movement, Tony lifts your sports bra over your head. He throws the red fabric to the side, neither of you caring where it lands. Tony breaks away from your lips, starting to kiss down your cheek, jaw, and then finally giving attention to the delicate skin on your neck. Again, he’s careful not to nip or suck too hard to leave marks. The light scratching of his facial hair contrasts with the soft wetness of Tony’s lips, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

He continues to attend to your neck and jaw as one of his jean-clad thighs moves to fall between your legs. You let out a deep groan as Tony begins to rub and and roll his knee forward, stimulating your clothed core. His movements are like a wave, every forward crest bringing you a tiny bit of that friction your body wants so, so much. You’re in awe of the control Tony has over his movements and the effortless pleasure he’s capable of giving. You can’t help but find his experience and expertise sexy.

“Y/N,” Tony breathes against your neck. “Say it again. Please. Say you want me.”

It occurs to you that, aside from last night, Tony hasn’t felt wanted in a long time. Like, truly wanted. A pang of sadness fills your heart.

“Tony. I want you,” you declare, making sure the conviction in your voice shines through. You don’t have to try. You desire him more than anything right now. “I want you. I want this.”

With your words, Tony moans deeply into your jawline and begins to move his leg between yours more vigorously. Your fingertips trace over his bare back muscles. You trail your hands upward, into the nape of his neck, massaging his scalp. Everything about his beautiful form fits perfectly in your hands.

Tony continues moving downwards, soon finding your right nipple in his mouth. You arch your back, letting a loud moan escape your lips. He works your nipple expertly, rolling it and playing at it with his tongue. He alternates to your other nipple, his thumb replacing where his mouth just left. He lightly strokes the hard, spit-slick bud, and the combination of coolness and friction is heaven.

Tony stands back up, and a second later, his hands are at the elastic band of your running shorts. His eyes meet yours for a moment, silently asking for your permission. You nod a bit too eagerly, and Tony cracks a small, teasing smile. You scoff and lightly slap his shoulder, returning the smile.

Tony pulls your shorts down in one swift motion, leaving you in just your underwear. Next thing you know, Tony’s arms are around your waist. You let out a soft, surprised squeal as he lifts you effortlessly to sit on the edge of the work table behind you. Slightly elevated now, you come to about the same height as Tony.

“Hey,” you protest playfully. “Be careful. There’s important stuff here.”

Tony reaches behind you to clear the area, moving your half-finished projects and parts to the side.

“My apologies, Ms. Y/L/N,” he replies with a huge grin. “Got a bit carried away.”

You pull him into another deep kiss. He growls with pleasure when you nip at his bottom lip. Tony is now standing between your knees, his torso pressing gently into your panty-covered pussy. You can feel his erection through his jeans, straining against his clothes. After seeing Tony’s length for the first time last night, the mental image of his cock — just a few millimeters away from your core — is enough to make you drool. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him in harder against you. He moans into your mouth, and you feel the vibrations as your tongues tangle together.

You feel Tony’s body leaning forward, slowly coaxing you to lay down on the table. Now fully on your back, Tony’s above you, taking in the sight of your body.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the most magnificent creature on Earth?”

“No,” you reply with a smirk. “But now, knowing how many other planets are out there in the galaxy, just being Miss Earth doesn’t seem like a huge deal.”

Tony laughs, smiling with his teeth. You find the crinkles that form on the outer corners of his eyes utterly endearing.

“Well, you’re still one out of four-and-three-quarters billion,” he jests back. “Not too shabby. It’s all about the little victories.”

You giggle. The pleasant thought passes through your mind that despite the current situation, everything does feel strangely normal. Tony is still Tony; you’re still you. The banter between you and your friend is still comfortable and easy. Your relationship, although maybe morphing into something more nuanced, remains unmoved.

You’re so caught up in your inner thoughts, that you don’t register Tony kneeling to the ground between your legs. You gasp when you feel his warm mouth over your still-clothed pussy. The combined wetness of his mouth and your core easily soaks through the fabric of your panties, making it cling to your skin. Tony runs his tongue over your folds, through the saturated cloth. You groan with pleasure, the small of your back arching off of the table. You grip Tony’s dark hair, needing something to hold onto.

The sensation of Tony’s lips and tongue through your thin panties is completely unique, and fuck, does it drive you wild.

After a few minutes, Tony’s hands reach up to hook in the waist of your panties. He removes your final garment, leaving you fully bare. His mouth immediately returns to your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, before running downwards through your lips, and then back up again. He alternates this pattern with gentle sucks on your clit.

“Oh, Tony. Shit,” you manage to call out. “That feels so good.”

He hums hungrily into you, pleasuring you to a level that no previous lovers have ever come close to. Tony’s large, rough hands wander upwards. One palm gentle grips your breast, while the other comes under your waist to hold the small of your back.

You raise your head slightly to glance down at Tony. The sight is pornographic. His face is buried in your cunt, head bobbing. The shape of his shoulder muscles, and his strong back. His tan skin, all bathed in golden sunlight.

Pleasuring you. On his knees.

It’s like a painting. Beautiful and erotic.

“Tony. I need you,” you gasp out, suddenly overcome with neediness. “Inside me. Fuck, I want you.”

Those magic words, again. I want you. The effect they have on Tony is instantaneous. Without hesitation, Tony is on his feet. He swiftly unbuttons his jeans and pulls down the zipper. His pants fall down to his ankles where he kicks them off. To your surprise his naked cock springs free. A glistening pearl of precum is formed at the tip.

“Wow, commando, huh?” you tease, gently biting at your bottom lip. “You were so confident you were going to get lucky again today?”

“Of course not. I just like to let it breath sometimes,” Tony remarks. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s a man thing.”

You scoff and roll your eyes sarcastically. Lovable idiot.

“Top drawer?” Tony asks, referring to the location of the condoms.

“On the left.”

Tony hurries out of the room and returns a second later with a condom from your bedroom. Stepping closer between your knees, he gives his cock a few pumps in his fist. You can feel your heart quickening with anticipation. Your pussy is nearly pulsing, needing to be stretched and filled.

Tony rips open the shiny wrapper and rolls the condom down onto his length. You scoot slightly closer to the edge of the table as his hands travel to grip your thighs. You moan deeply as Tony rubs the head of his cock over your slit, spreading your moisture.

“Are you ready?” Tony asks, eyes dark with desire.

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Make me feel good.”

With that, Tony starts slowly pushing into your dripping pussy. You groan as your walls accommodate to his girth. It’s amazing that you took him just last night, and he’s already capable of stretching you like this again. Tony throws his head back, hissing in pleasure as he bottoms out, his pubic mound flush against yours.

He starts pumping gently. The way Tony’s hips roll forward in fluid motions makes you want to scream with pleasure. His hands are gripping your thighs tightly, fingertips digging into the soft flesh.

Tony’s pace quickens, and soon the room is filled with sounds of wetness, skin slipping on skin, and the moans leaving both your throats. One of Tony’s hands moves to your pussy. His thumb rubs tight circles on your clit making you see stars behind your eyes. The extra stimulation almost immediately starts tightening the orgasmic coil in your stomach. Tony seems to know the exact speed to move his cock and thumb to turn you into a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Oh, more,” you groan, your pleasure growing. “Tony Stark. Yes, oh, please.”

“Come for me, Y/N,” Tony growls almost primally. “Wanna feel you squeezing around my cock.”

Tony’s filthy demands go straight to your pussy. You love the feeling of being under him, sprawled out on the table, completely naked for him to fuck. And the dirty talk is the cherry on top.

The pleasure in your abdomen continues to rise until you’re on the edge of ecstasy. With one last thrust, your orgasm washes over you. You scream Tony’s name into the room, not caring who hears. Pulses of pleasure rip through your entire body, even making your feet tingle. When you come down, the convulsions slowing, your head feels fuzzy and bubbly.

Not even a moment later, you feel Tony lifting your legs higher. Still inside you, he straightens them, bringing your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The new sensation is instantly nirvana. He starts pumping into you, and the head of his cock rubs your G-spot on every thrust. Penetrative sex had never felt this good for you.

“You feel so fucking amazing, Y/N,” Tony manages to says between moans. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

The feeling of your pussy being pounded in this angle has your eyes rolling back into your skull. All your thoughts seem to leave your head. The only thing you can focus on is the immense pleasure. The sound of Tony’s balls slapping against you wetly with every stroke combined with his desperate moans fill your ears.

Tony’s thrusts start to become more jagged, needy. His moans slowly transform more into whimpers as he continues to fuck into you. Suddenly, Tony comes with a series of loud groans, his eyes shut tight. You feel his dick pulsating inside you as he orgasms. He thrusts a few more times, riding out the last waves.

He gently slides out of you, his hands coming down the tabletop next to your waist to steady himself. Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies radiating with the afterglow of pleasure.

Silently, Tony helps you to stand before sweeping you up easily in his arms. You lean into his chest as he carries you to the bedroom. Tony lays you down carefully on the cool mattress before hurrying to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a warm washcloth.

After cleaning yourselves up, Tony crawls into the refreshing sheets beside you. He slips one arm under your neck, and you cuddle in closer to his body. The warmth and smoothness of his skin is so, so welcoming. In the strangest way, it feels natural.

“I didn’t think it was possible to top last night,” you finally say, chuckling.

“Me neither,” Tony replies. “I guess we just have good chemistry.”

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh and drape an arm over his chest. “Hey, question.”

“Ask away.”

“Why did you cook all that stuff earlier? Like the eggs, toast, the whole nine yards. It was sort of...”

“Out of character?” Tony finishes your sentence.

You nod. Tony takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

“Honestly, when I woke up, and you were gone, I was freaking out a little bit. I wanted to talk about last night, but you weren’t there, and I just didn’t know what you were thinking. If you were having serious regrets, or if you were angry, or upset with me. Or if you were thinking our whole friendship was burned to the ground.

“I just needed to do something. Anything. Busy my hands, distract my mind. Sorry that I kind of raided your kitchen.”

You turn to peer up at him, letting out a soft laugh. His chocolate eyes meet yours, and you give him a kind smile, endeared by his typical, hyper ramblings.

“I’m sorry I left,” you start. “I was freaking out a little, too. I guess that’s always been a difference between us. I always try to run from the unknown, while you just want to plow straight through it.”

Tony smiles warmly and blinks his gorgeous, thick black eyelashes at you.

“It’s why we make a good pair. Balance. Yin and yang. Ya’ know.”

You both chuckle, content in one another’s arms. You open your mouth to reply, but you’re cut off by a loud growl from your stomach. Tony bursts into laughter.

“Your fault for barely touching breakfast,” Tony remarks playfully. “Which — not to toot my own horn — was quite artfully made.”

“I guess I could settle for a bowl of lowly cereal as punishment,” you reply with mock sadness.

Tony chuckles and shakes his head. He starts to rise from the bed, then offers his hand for you to follow.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some more eggs.”

#tony x reader #tony x fem!reader #avengers imagines #avengers fic #avengers smut #tony stark #smut #tony stark smut #marvel fics #iron man #iron man smut #iron man fic #dom!tony #soft!tony #friends to lovers #tony stark fluff #fanfic

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Injury

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,657

Warnings: Blood, injury, slight violence, minor villain death

Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.

Author’s Note: Week 3 of keeping up my writing schedule let’s go! This week is a bit angsty, my forte (I think?) As usual part one – with Albedo, Childe, and Diluc – will be posted tonight and part two – Kaeya, Xiao and Zhongli – tomorrow.

At first this was going to be both your injury and your recovery but then the first character hit over 1.5k words so I guess this is going to be a pseudo-series. I really don’t know the definition of concise lol.

In the first part of my last fic I realize I gendered a word. I’m super sorry about that, and I promise to fix it and tag properly next time. Childe gets to go into the stone forest cause I say he can. I’m not sure if waypoints are diegetic or nondiegetic. I decided to make them so. Also the first hospital in China was opened in the early 1800s, and I know hospitals aren’t very “fantasy” but Teyvat has good medical science in my book.

Albedo

Throughout his life the one thing that Albedo never truly understood was peoples’ obsession with modesty, even when it was false.

There was a lot that Albedo was proud of in regards to himself; his intellect for one, his curiosity, his abilities as an alchemist, the fact that he feared little in the world. Above all perhaps was the pride he held in carrying himself without falling into hysteria, his grip on his emotions was impeccable and whenever he was unfortunate enough to see others gripped with a heavy emotion he was always left with a sour feeling in his mouth – a disgust for someone who had so little sense they couldn’t even control themselves.

This was a pride that left him quickly enough upon seeing you injured.

It wasn’t meant to be a dangerous expedition. It’d merely been a check of the vast network of caves and tunnels that could be found in Dragonspine. A route affair, mundane even in how simple it supposedly was. There was nothing to be afraid of. Albedo had told you that back at home and you’d smiled in agreement. Yes, there was nothing to be worried of, a few hilichurls at most and a temperature that could be easily kept in check with the right preparation. You’d be there and back in less than a day, no problem.

Everything, however, had gone horribly wrong. The cave that you two intended to explore turned out to be a vast network, full of tight tunnels and half submerged under freezing water. You two had managed that well enough, although once Albedo had almost slipped and fallen into the underground river, the whole outlook of the expedition was looking drearier and drearier.

Eventually you’d reached what had seemed to be the heart of the cave, floor after floor of ice with a hole in the middle, all lit up by crystal and scarlet quartz. It was an impressive sight to be sure and you’d stood a little ways away from the edge, observing the way the light refracted off the ice coated walls, waiting for Albedo to be finished with his sampling, enjoying the awesome sight in front of you.

Albedo had just finished when you’d let out a yelp. Whirling around he saw what had captured your attention – a wild snowboar who’d managed to wander in. The two of you watched the very confused creature in awe, only staring as it stomped the ground and charged right into the wall.

That was a mistake.

All of the sudden the cavern started shaking violently. Cursing the boar for its terrible – or maybe impeccable – aim the two of you sprinted towards the exit. You’d managed to gain the lead, not bogged down by Albedo’s extensive equipment, and had turned around near the beginning of the tunnel in order to help him. Just as you were heading back one of the many icicles that lined the roof of the cave came undone, landing with a sickening thud right where your collarbone met your spine.

You’d dropped like a rock, and Albedo felt his stomach to turn water and his mind turn to static, as suddenly all logic seemed to leave him, instead replaced by dread so overpowering he seemed to lose track of his surroundings, chained to the ground by something greater than himself.

You groaned and time seemed to unfreeze itself, instead accelerating at a breakneck pace. Leaping into action Albedo immediately dropped all of his equipment, the sound of glass vials shattering muffled by the cases that held them and the panic that was gripping him. Hauling you over his back he ran through the tunnels, wincing every time you made a sound and biting his tongue every time he shimmied through a particularly tight spot and it seemed it might not let the two of you pass as you were.

He could feel the blood seeping through his gloves. Your blood. Only a few minutes ago he wasn’t even sure that icicles could make one bleed. Now he wished he’d never found out, wished that he’d never asked to explore the caves of Dragonspine, wished that you’d never agreed to it. How could he have been so foolish, so blind to the dangers that waited in vast caverns of ice and snow, where the slightest wrong movement could spell your death.

Albedo could’ve cried when he sighted the camp. Indeed he might’ve, realizing that there were frozen tears on his cheeks only after you’d been taking to the medical tent. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t noticed anything really in those terrifying moments between when you’d gotten hurt and when he’d made it to the camp. It all seemed not to exist in his mind, washed away by the emotions that had wracked his mind and body. Even now he couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the tide of emotions that was crashing into him like a wave, utterly helpless as he was thrown this way and that.

The pride that he’d clung to was in tatters, and Albedo looked upon it now in disgust. He’d been so innocent, so foolish, perhaps mercifully so. But all that was gone, and his certainty had gone with it. There was nothing left of him almost; nothing except fear and anger and worry, and Albedo wondered when he might ever feel sure of everything again.

It was cloudy when you were released, arm in a sling, brace around your shoulders. Albedo wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it had seemed like an eternity. The urge to run up to you and wrap you in the tightest hug imaginable was intense, but the sight of the brace held him back. Instead he brought you hand up to his face, kissing your palm before holding it against his cheek. You smiled at that, but there was fatigue in your eyes and you said nothing. Albedo couldn’t blame you. He moved to let go and turn towards the path, somehow feeling unworthy of holding your hand after being the cause of your predicament, but you quickly grasped his hand once more. He smiled a slightly shocked smile, but made no move to let go.

As you two walked back to Mondstadt Albedo felt himself once more flooded by negative thoughts. Lowering his gaze so he was looking at the ground he paused for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

Albedo found his voice cracking, tears welling his eyes even as he chastised himself for how stupid he must’ve looked. You were safe, you were going to be alright, the head of the clinic had said so himself. Why then did he still feel like he might crumble any minute? Shaking his head he moved to cover his face with his hand.

“Hey.” There was still fatigue in your voice, but there was also an urgency in it. You squeezed the hand you were holding, moving so you were facing him. “Hey, is it okay if you look at me?”

Albedo moved his head up slowly. He was truly crying by now, having given up all efforts to do so otherwise. You smiled softly as his eyes met yours.

“I’m alright, okay? And you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. I doubt that even the drunkest man in Monstadt could’ve guessed a wild boar would wander in a cavern and start a cave in. You can’t control fate you know.”

“I know.” Albedo forced the words out, although more and more it seemed impossible, his throat was too constricted to be anything more than barely coherent. “Still. I should’ve known. And I should’ve kept it together. I, why am I crying? Why wasn’t I in control? Why, why am I still not in control?”

“Because you’re human Albedo.” You replied, shaking your head slightly. “You’re the most wonderful human alive, but you’re still human. You mustn’t beat yourself up for what you are. I’d rather you cry anyways. There’s nothing noble in hiding your emotions, they must come out one way or another. So please, please cry all you want, long and hard. And tomorrow you can start your penance, alright?”

“Penance?” Albedo mumbled, still crying. You nodded, smile still nothing but fondness and understanding.

“Well someone’s going to have to help me for the next two months. And I know you’re too much a gentleman to make me stumble along myself.”

“Of course.” Albedo’s answer came fast and sure. He paused then, realizing that, by distracting him with the weeks to come, you’d managed to give him a pocket of time to calm himself, to feel himself once more firmly planted on the ground. Love mixed with anger and sadness in his mind, and for a moment he could only marvel at you.

Albedo leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. He’d do whatever he could to help you, this he promised himself. And this too he promised himself; you’d never ever be hurt on his watch again.

Childe

If there was anything that Childe hated it was a lack of control. The feeling of everything slipping through his fingers was something he’d felt often as a child, and that feeling had haunted him. When he’d signed up as a member of the Fatui he’d promised himself that he’d never feel that way again. He’d protect those he loved and he’d keep his life from falling apart. It was a promise he was determined to keep, no matter what.

You two had decided to go hiking. Or rather it was less of a hike and more of a rock climb. Childe had long bragged that the Huaguang Stone Forest was the most beautiful place to watch the sunset, and you’d finally gotten a free weekend. Waypointing your way there initially, your partner had taken an almost childlike joy from choosing which mountain was the highest.

“Childe have you decided yet? The sun is almost at the horizon.” You called out at the Harbinger. Childe was, much to your dismay, the stronger climber, and had taken to scouting ahead of time to see if the spot you were climbing to was any good. Now he glanced down at you, mischief written all over his face, his smirk flashier than usual. He put his hand on his chin and looked outward once more.

“Hmm… I don’t know…”

“Childe!” You exclaimed, your arms slightly killing you. You really wish that you’d convinced Childe to bring a roped and belay. Unfortunately that request had been met with a whine and an accusation of “that’s cheating!” You’d laughed it off at the time, but now you were starting to regret your partner’s recklessness. As much as you were enjoying your time – being alone with Childe always felt intensely special and you cherished every moment of it – you were also impatient to actually watch the sunset, and in your hurry you wondered if it might not be faster to climb back down and watch from the bridge.

“I do believe that we’ve found the tallest one!”

“Thank the Seven.” You groaned, hurrying to get to the top. Childe chuckled, watching you scale up the mountain.

“Oh come now, I had to make sure it was perfect! Besides you looked so comfortable perched there, it almost hurt to disrupt you.”

“When I get up there I’m killing you.” You shot back, reaching towards the ledge. Still laughing Childe stuck out his hand and you moved to grab it, pushing off with your feet as much as possible, determined to make it up the mountain in the next move.

The laughter died from Childe’s lips the moment your hand missed. Instead it was replaced by fear, cold and sharp as a knife, plunging straight through his heart. Time seemed to slow down, but you were falling so fast, falling, falling, falling. Catapulting himself off the top of the mountain Childe reached out for you. In his mind he was screaming. Glide. Oh please, for the love of the Seven glide. Please, don’t fall, it’s so high up. I couldn’t bear it. Please.

Still the words were stuck in his mouth, and his throat only constricted more when you hit the bridge with a sickening thud. Releasing his own wings at the last moment he landed on the bridge too, only a few meters away from where you were now crumpled up. Running over he scooped you up. You’d managed to right yourself at the last moment in the air so that you were landing feet first, but though you’d managed to protect your head your legs dragged limply, and one was bent at an awkward angle. Looking at your mangled form, listening to you as you screamed and whimpered in pain, Child felt overwhelmed by his vast helplessness. There was nothing he could do. Burying his head in your neck he sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The journey to Liyue was excruciating, both for you and for Childe. Although there was no external bleeding the initial adrenaline of falling had no worn off and you felt every jolt and movement as Childe slung you on his back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and carrying you to the nearest waypoint and then to the Liyue doctor. Even when Childe was standing still you thought you might die from the sheer pain. So intense it was that sometimes you gave up, blacking out only to wake up feeling like you were drowning, the burning air around you almost too hot and too heavy to breathe.

Childe willed himself to numbness throughout the journey, only allowing him to collapse once you’d reached the hospital, practically ramming into the nearest chair in the waiting room, the situation washing over him.

How could he have let this happen? Hadn’t he made a promise? A promise that he’d protect those he’d love, that he’d never lose control of a situation again, that he’d never let those he cared about suffer? Where was that promise now? His whole world seemed to collapse in on itself now. He hadn’t been able to protect you. Despite his training, his reflexes, his vision, his everything. You’d still fallen. And as powerful as Childe liked to think he was, he still couldn’t turn back time and stop your suffering.

Finally the doctor opened the door and Childe was let in to see you. After informing him that you were on painkillers the doctor left you two alone. Faced with you laying on the hospital bed Childe sank into the nearest chair. Lacing his fingers through yours he drew circles on your hand over and over. For a moment you two said nothing, then Childe let his head rest on your hands. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice raw.

“I know.” You replied, mind a bit hazy from the painkillers, the magic infused herbs luring you to sleep. Still you pushed forward, needing to say something before Childe let himself be carried away. “I know, but it’s not your fault. And it’s not irreversible. The doctor says in 8 weeks I’ll be fine. Until then, we’ll just have to improvise.”

“But what about your adventuring? Your commissions? How can you do those if you can’t –”

“I’ll figure it out. Adventuring isn’t just monster slaying you know. And there’s no catastrophe in being in a wheelchair or on crutches.” You shook your head. Childe was still crying, and you could feel his tears running down your linked hands.

“Ajax.” Childe’s head shot up, surprised. He loved when you called him by his true name, it always seemed like a song falling from your lips. And now that song was filled with understanding, if not a bit of sadness. “I want you to not blame yourself.” You continued. “I know it’ll be hard, I know that these feelings won’t go away. And I’m not blaming you for them. I’m not happy about this either, of course I’m not, I just went through a world of pain. But I won’t be able to stand watching you beat yourself up for 8 weeks, I won’t be able to stand that look in your eyes every time you look at me. So please, please stop. If not for yourself then for me.”

Childe stared at your for a while. You waited, not wanting to rush his thought process. Eventually though he shook his head, a small smile finally breaking his expression.

“You’re too good for me you know. Alright. I promise to try. It’s the least I could do.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. Childe smiled back. He didn’t know how you managed to do it, how you managed to take his fears and look them in the face. All he knew at that moment was that he loved you. And for now, that was enough.

Diluc

Diluc stared in horror as the Fatui Bracer aimed a Geo projectile right at you, his horror multiplying into rage and terror as the concentrated energy flew through the air and landed right at the base of your ribcage. You crumpled at the impact, wheezing heavily, apparently stunned from the power and speed of the attack.

How could this have happened? Diluc knew that the Fatui were gathering in Mondstadt, something that the winery owner turned Darknight Hero couldn’t stand. But never did he think to see Fatui skirmishers right outside the walls of Monstadt, strolling along the beach of Cider Lake as if it were Snezhnaya. Never did he think he’d have to see another loved one felled by a member of the Fatui, and never did he think that he could bear the emotions coursing through him now.

He made quick work of the Bracer, hacking and swinging without rhyme or reason, barely able to comprehend what was going on. Everything felt oddly separated from him, as if he were watching through someone else’s eyes, watching as he burned through the Bracer’s shields as easily as if it were made of wax, leaving the man groaning and screaming in pain before silencing him altogether.

The feeling of separation only grew more powerful as he ran over to you. You seemed to be conscious, but your breathing was shallow and ragged, and the place where the Fatui’s attack had hit seemed mangled, one of your ribs having seemingly been broken. You were screaming, though it was hoarse and low and tired. Still if you were screaming you were alive, and at least Diluc could hold onto that.

Carrying you in his arms Diluc winced as you let out another shriek of pain. You two weren’t far from the gates of Monstadt, but every step seemed to be a thousand steps and what was surely only a few hundred meters instead felt like tens of thousands of miles.

You were going to be alright. At least the doctor had said you were going to be alright. Surely Diluc could be grateful for that? But he didn’t feel grateful, instead he felt anger and hatred welling up inside of him. He’d told himself it was no good to be an angry or hateful person, that doing so would only push you away, would only destroy the fragile bonds he’d managed to build between you and a selection of others. But still the anger and the hatred lingered, refusing to be quelled or stuffed away.

He wanted revenge. Revenge on the Fatui, on the Tsaritsa, on the uncaring world that let him be so tormented, and that so tormented the ones he loved. How could this have happened to you? You who were made of goodness, more goodness than he’d found in the world beforehand. How was this a fitting reward?

It was decided that you could stay at the Winery during the 6 grueling weeks that was to be your convalescence. Diluc said nothing on the way there. He was afraid what would happened if he opened his mouth. Already he knew his face was betraying the feelings welling within him. He didn’t need to make it worse, not now.

Arriving at the Winery Diluc carried you to his room, the nicest room there was. Up to this point you’d said nothing, and Diluc wondered if you weren’t too groggy to do so. However when you spoke up there was an urgency in your voice, one he simply couldn’t ignore.

“You’re angry. You’re trying to hide it but I know it.”

“I’m not the one in pain right now.” Came a curt reply. Diluc was looking at you with what others might’ve mistaken as a glare. Perhaps it was even that, but there was something beneath it, and you knew it ultimately wasn’t directed at you.

“I am. And I’m upset too. But I’ve accepted it. You need to accept that you’re angry too. Burying it won’t help, it’ll only make it worse you know. You have to acknowledge your emotions. You don’t have to hide them. At least not in front of me.”

The expression on Diluc’s face finally broke. The anger there was raw and palapable, but there was also something else, something he’d also buried.

“I was… terrified.” Diluc finally let out. “I was so terrified it frightened me. I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

“And you shouldn’t have to hide that either.” You prodded softly. “But I’ll be alright, I promise. So please, just be open with me and then we’ll go from there.”

Diluc nodded, finding himself unable to speak. Walking over to where you were laying down he peppered kisses all over your face, light and ethereal as butterflies.

He’d do right by you. That’s what he promised himself, after all the hiding and the pain. He’d do right by you. But he’d also not forgive the Fatui for what they’d done, and tonight when Monstadt was asleep the Darknight would be watching. And for any Snezhnayan roaming the streets and lurking in the shadows, there’d be no forgiveness.

#this is being posted later in the night than wanted so sorry about the typos #I'll reedit tomrrow morning I promise!#okay wow my computer almost crashed right now okay #albedo #childe #diluc #albedo x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #scenarios #my writing

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

the great divide part six

summary: Who knew that eight words would be your undoing. If you had known then what you know now you wouldn't have signed up for Suyin's dance troupe, you probably would have left Zaofu just to be safe. But you didn't and fate had branded you with a path that chained you to someone who would break your heart.

a/n: The last part! Please remember there is an epilogue, Gif is made by @stelladonna and a massive thanks to @medeliadracon for beta reading this series! And also a big thank you to @ladyxffandoms for helping me figure out what was missing.

word count: 8k

When you leave her office, Kuvira is filled with rage so hot she fears it may burn her insides. She hears the slam of her doors and the muffled conversation between guards before it’s softly shut once more. “It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

The malice in your voice, the use of her full name, it shattered through the toughest of walls within her. Ones you’d never breached before. She’s never been good with her emotions, ever since she was a child she warped her sadness, her loneliness, and sometimes even happiness into anger as a way to protect herself.

She was a difficult child with a temper the size of Ba Sing Se, so difficult in fact that her parents deemed her unfit for their life. It felt like the world was ending when she first arrived in Zaofu, the way her parents spoke to her before they left, making her seem like no one would ever truly love her unless she let Suyin mold her into a model citizen.

And that was another problem, Suyin always tried to turn Kuvira into a miniature version of herself. It didn’t matter how different she was, Suyin tried to bury who Kuvira truly was with a perfected version of herself, a false one.

Up until her parent's abandonment, she always assumed love would be easy and that she would instantly marry her soulmate. She’d pull her shirt up just a bit and look at the words swirled across her hip bone in wonder. “Would you mind helping me memorize the routine?”

Those words, however minuscule and mundane, proved to her that she was worthy of love. That one day she would be loved. But as she grew older in Zaofu she felt a disconnect regarding those words on her hip, the first time she had sex she had covered it up, as if trying to shield the person she hadn’t even met yet. Hara, the name of the girl who had eyed her since the first day of guard training, didn’t seem to care at all.

Kuvira feels like she should lie and say she had her eyes on you since the first practice you attended but honestly she hadn’t even noticed the new addition to the troupe. When you had pranced over to her, still light on your feet after the routine, and spoke, she wondered what kind of soft-spoken woman would end up loving someone whose own parents hated her?

She remembers that night in the metal flower in vivid detail. When you were spinning alongside her in the air she suddenly was consumed with the desire to kiss you, she didn’t even realize she had pulled you close until your soft lips touched hers.

She knew from the moment you spoke that first day she should have broken up with Baatar Jr. But Kuvira, even though she will never admit it out loud, is a stubborn and flawed woman who can’t stop once she sets her mind to something.

The fourth night of the second month on the train after she had been uncharacteristically gentle with you, was the first time you said you loved her. She asked you to repeat yourself again and again until you pulled her into a deep kiss, pouring all your love into it. The action left her breathless, and with that kiss, you broke her first wall.

She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she starts to think about you and all her memories of you. You’re most likely in your room erasing any trace of her there may be, completely ready to extract her from your life.

Kuvira forces herself out of her office and over to her front door, she opens it up just a few inches, enough for the guard nearby to see. She doesn’t care if he can see the tears racing down her cheeks. “Have a guard stationed outside of Y/n’s door.”

Once she shuts the door after he nods, Kuvira walks into her room where she sits on the edge of her bed. If she goes to sleep, will you still be in her life tomorrow? Kuvira shoves off her boots but otherwise stays in her uniform as she lays down and stares blankly out the window, her country needs her. They need her to protect them in a way no one has ever protected her before.

Kuvira doesn’t sleep that night, she stays awake, her gaze focused on a potted plant out in the courtyard, and imagines every possible scenario in her head. These last few years have spoiled her in a way, you were always by her side through it all. You were there cheering her on and making her feel loved and wanted. She doesn’t know if she can go back to how it used to be, to loneliness.

When rays of sunshine start to peak through her window, she pulls herself up and out of bed. Kuvira goes to the bathroom to smooth out any wrinkles in her clothes but doesn’t feel the energy or motivation to change into a fresh pair. She slept in her bun, it’s a bit frizzy now with a few loose strands that she tries to tuck into her braid, there’s a pesky curl that won’t cooperate. Kuvira eventually gives up on it, letting it stay out and frame the side of her face.

You love when she has her hair down, when it’s down you immediately run your fingers through the dark curls and let out this content sigh that fills her heart with adoration. Kuvira shoves her feet into her boots on the way out of her room, beyond caring about her appearance. The guard outside her door, the same from last night steps forward when she walks out of her room.

“Ms. Y/n left her room around one A.M, it’s been reported that she’s staying at the encampment.” Kuvira frowns, did she take too long? Have you given up?

You were her guiding hand, her moral compass and now you’re gone. “Thank you,” she says monotonously before heading towards the kitchen. Despite her desire to shut herself off from the world, her stomach is cramping in pain due to hunger. She should have eaten the food you gave her last night, now it’s strewn across the desk in her office, cold and gone bad.

She takes herself the familiar route to the kitchens, growing up here has its perks. She'd seen how you look around in a mixture of confusion and wonder when they had gone to try and negotiate with Suyin. Kuvira knows this place, she ran down these very halls when she was younger. Despite the hollowness that echoes through the halls, the lack of laughter and conversation turns the whole home into a colorless husk of what it used to be.

Kuvira hadn't noticed the lack of life within as she walked into the empty kitchen. Her guards had gotten Suyin's chef to cook breakfast and dinner, and she had given him lunch off. It was for sentimental reasons, all the birthday cakes he baked her and midnight snacks. He might hate her now but she'll keep giving him lunch off in hopes of paying him back for the happy memories. She doesn't like to owe people.

He must not be in yet, it's barely dawn. The kitchen is empty, giving Kuvira the perfect moment of respite before her dreadful day. She grabs a piece of bread, most likely baked yesterday, and an apple. Part of her doesn't have an appetite, to upset about her fight with you to want to eat. She forces it down with a glass of water, the food helps her slightly, helps her feel stronger than before.

Kuvira walks down the hall, her feet carried her out of the estate and towards the tram. “I need to get out of the city,” she says to the operator waiting for any passengers by the tram doors. He nods and briskly walks over to the operating booth, she decides to grab onto the pole at the center of the cart and stand. The machinery starts with a jolt but Kuvira remains unmoving, staring straight ahead. Slowly the scenery around her begins to change, it takes her around the outer domes where a few people are toddling about, most likely walking off to work.

The tram goes under a tunnel before entering the main dome. That towering golden statue of Toph Beifong comes into view and Kuvira sighs as a memory of you enters her mind.

You’re moving around your room on the train as the view from outside is blurred due to the speed you were moving at. You and Kuvira were beginning to get to know each other in the safety of the night, which brought you such joy. Standing in front of your vanity with only Kuvira’s undershirt on you begin to take the pins out of your hair. “What was your home like?” She had asked. A wide smile made its way onto your face as you set the bobby pins into a small ring dish.

“Just so cozy. We have a townhouse in the main dome across from the botanical gardens. I had the best view from my bedroom window,” you let out a wistful sigh as you begin to untie your locks. “Our home was directly situated to the center of it, all you had to do was walk across the street to enter. So I got to wake up with a view of every flower Zaofu has curated, it felt like it was just for me.”

Kuvira watches you fondly from the bed as you continue “my dad and I made a metal planter to hang from our kitchen window by the front door, during summertime hydrangeas bloom from it.”

Without thinking Kuvira rushes over to the emergency brake button and slaps her hand onto it, the tram stops with a harsh jolt that sends her stumbling to the side. The doors automatically open with the lights above flashing red. Kuvira stands on the edge, looking below. The fall isn’t far but it could still hurt her, so she bends two of the metal seats, ripping them out of their places screwed to the floor and warping it into a crud shape of a ladder.

She bends it to the edge, moving the nails that popped out to screw them into the floor to secure the ladder. Kuvira lets out a deep sigh before beginning her descent below. This is stupid and will most likely blow up in her face, but if you decide to say goodbye to her today, she wants to see the place that you once called home. There are a few inches between the ladder and the ground so Kuvira jumps, She bends at the ladder back into the tram so if it starts whilst she’s away it won’t break any buildings in the process.

An old man opening up shop stares at Kuvira with wide eyes, watching her walk away as the tram above stays frozen. She’s a block away from the garden she’s heard you gush about, more and more people begin to filter out from their homes to start their day and each one eyes her with disgust. Squaring her shoulders, she stares ahead and away from everyone's watchful gaze.

The gardens come into view, towering bright green trees with vines growing on the wrought iron fence surrounding it. Kuvira stops at the entrance, looking inside with hesitancy, as if worried she’ll destroy it upon contact. There’s a pond in the center with a few lily pads floating around with two benches across from one another by the pond.

Flowers of all shapes and colors are scattered around and when her gaze locks on the towering Sunflowers in bloom, Kuvira suddenly remembers once finding you tucked behind them with bloodshot eyes and a raspy voice from crying. That was the second time she had knowingly hurt you, the first being asking you to keep it a secret. Kuvira takes a step back, not feeling worthy of stepping inside such a radiant place, and begins her trek around it to your house.

Most of the homes don’t have many outdoor decorations, a welcome mat or a potted plant seems to be the theme so when her eyes lock onto that metal planter with blue hydrangeas Kuvira knows she’s found the place. It’s a two-story townhome with some sort of stick figure drawn on the second story window and when she looks over her shoulder she sees how perfectly centered the house is to see all of the gardens from above.

She doesn’t know what to do now. She never really thought through her plan, which is incredibly unlike her, but that memory came flooding back through her mind and she knew she needed to see it for herself. Slowly she takes a step forward, and then another and another until she’s in front of the door with her fist raised, rapping three times against the metal.

Kuvira doesn’t know why she does it, maybe it's the sleep deprivation or an act of desperation to feel your presence again, she honestly doesn’t know. There’s the sound of thunderous footsteps from behind the door and a masculine voice calling out “I’ll get it!”

A man opens the door with the same color hair as you, he’s a bit on the chubbier side and looks to be roughly 6’2 or maybe even 6’3.

Kuvira can see the resemblance in certain features of his and it makes her long for you even more. Your father scowls at the sight of her, his demeanor has changed from cheery to vexed in a matter of seconds. She shouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m Kuvi-”

“I know who you are, you made us kneel before you.” His voice is gruff and his words clipped. Kuvira sighs, right, she did do that. “What do you want?”

‘I’ve come to talk to you and your wife about… well about your daughter.” Spirits this is awkward, your father stares Kuvira down for a few moments before frowning. Slowly he steps aside, letting her in. Your home is warm with family photos framed and hanging from the wall, the entry is a narrow hallway with an archway that leads into a small kitchen. As Kuvira follows your dad down the hall her eyes catch on a photo of you.

You can’t be any older than eight in it with your arms wrapped around your father's neck as he carries you on his back. Your mother is beside the two of you, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. All three of you are grinning and Kuvira notices that one of your front teeth is missing. Both of you have lived such different lives. At eight Kuvira was being abandoned by her parents for being too out of control.

Two people who grew up in completely different environments with such clashing personalities are soulmates, in some ways, it seems like a sick joke. But she can’t be upset about it when she loves you this much, just confused.

Your father clears his throat, ripping Kuvira from her thoughts. She looks over and tenses, he’s looking at her like he wants to say something but shakes his head and enters the room at the end of the hall. Kuvira reluctantly leaves the photo behind and follows after him.

The room is a living and dining room with a small circular table that has an elegant bouquet of yellow and white flowers in a simple vase with four chairs tucked underneath it. There is a cozy looking periwinkle sofa and an unlit fireplace with a photo hanging above it, this one is larger and is of you before the performance all those years ago. You look so pretty in that costume and so happy. Kuvira swallows.

Your dad walks up the staircase tucked to the right, leaving her in the living room where she awkwardly stands. She doesn’t think he wants her to go up. Kuvira makes out the sound of aggressive whispering from upstairs, she can’t make out any of the words but soon after two people come walking downstairs. Your father and your mother.

Kuvira’s eyes widened, you always mentioned your mother being part of the guard but you never mentioned her being the Lieutenant for the main dome. Not only did she help train Kuvira, but she also placed the captain's pin onto her uniform during her ceremony. She had smiled at Kuvira, having seen her as her own, and said quietly “I’m so proud of you.”

That smile is long gone and replaced with a scowl. “What could you possibly want to say about our daughter?” Your father places a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down a bit.

Kuvira gulps as she eyes the both of them, there're so many emotions raging within her now that she doesn’t know if she can even speak. Suddenly this place somehow seems too much like you and she wants to run away from your mother's wrathful gaze. “I’m… Your daughter,” Kuvira internally groans. This shouldn’t be so hard. “ Y/n and I are soulmates.”

“So the rumors are true…” Your father mutters as he plops down onto the couch with a dumbfounded expression.

“What rumors?” She had locked herself up in her room all of yesterday and this is her first time having a conversation with someone that’s not you. Your father grimaces.

“That guards found you in her room, naked,” your mother spits the words out. Oh spirits, this is not a good first impression. Kuvira feels her face flush a deep red “that you imprisoned your fiancé because he caught the two of you.”

“It’s a lot more than that” she offers, neither seems to care. Your father seems to not want to hear any of this because he quickly stands and walks off towards the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans being moved can be heard through the otherwise eerily silent home. “I didn’t want to imprison him.”

“I don’t care, what I want to know is why you were even with him if my daughter is your soulmate. She abruptly left with you three years ago.”

The explanation floating around her mind isn’t good enough, she can’t seem to figure out how to eloquently explain herself without it seeming like she doesn’t care about you. Suddenly as she thinks over the last three years and she starts to notice how harshly she’s treated you.

Up until now she always claimed it was for the good of the country, when you both finally got married the world would try to eat you up and chew you out for being with her. She needed you to have a perfect image and be resilient.

“I-I needed him for engineering and he wouldn’t leave with us unless he thought I loved him,” Kuvira says sheepishly. Your mother looks unimpressed as her jaw begins to clench. “I have always loved your daughter though.”

“So you hid my daughter, my beautiful, amazing, and sweet daughter away like something to be ashamed of?” She takes a step closer, scowling. Kuvira feels like the collar of her jacket is choking her.

“No! I have never been ashamed of her, I always told her how much I loved her.”

“But you turned her into the other woman for your own selfish desires!”

“They weren’t selfish, they were for the good of the empire! She understood.” Kuvira thinks you understood but right now she’s not too sure. A kettle in the background begins to whistle.

“My daughter dreamed of the day she’d meet her soulmate, she had everything planned out and I know for a fact that the woman I raised would not be okay with what you’ve turned her into!” Your father quietly reenters the room with a tray that holds three teacups with steam coming from them.

“I love her, I just want to fix everything! It's why I came here,” that’s the real reason that compelled Kuvira to come here, if anyone knew you better than her, it’d be your parents.

“How is she doing?” Your father asks, Kuvira looks over at him and notices how sad he looks. His eyes are bloodshot and a few tears fall from his eyes before he wipes them away.

“She’s healthy but upset with me.”

“As she should be,” your mother mutters under her breath. He picks up a teacup and blows on it, “why is she upset?” His voice cracks.

“She wants me to end this, told me it's her or the empire and I don’t know what to do.” Kuvira sighs and runs a hand through her hair, messing her bun up a bit.

“And why haven’t you chosen her already?” Your father's voice is calm, there’s a sadness to it but he doesn’t shout or rage like your mother who has her back turned to Kuvira as she goes to pick up one of the teacups. She can see how tense your mother is, how angry she still is.

“Because it's my country, if I give it up to Wu and Suyin then I am turning my back on the people I promised to protect.”

“You once promised to protect Zaofu at all costs” your mother snips out, he places a hand on her shoulder and softly says “honey, please.” She relaxes just a fraction as she takes the seat beside him at the table, glaring at her tea.

“These people are vulnerable and need someone to make sure they feel safe again. I’m that person, and your daughter understood that, or I thought she did.”

Your father sets his cup down and pats the chair beside him that’s situated across from your mother. She shyly walks over to it, she doesn’t want to sit down but she’s already pissed your mom off just by existing and she’d rather not give her another reason to hate her.

“They were vulnerable, but you have gotten rid of the bandits and raiders. You’ve stabilized the empire as you promised, now it’s time to let go and hand over the reins to someone else.”

“I can’t do that,” Kuvira says, her heart is racing. Let someone else rule? Give up the control she craves? The idea makes her feel unsafe, like the second she does it someone will destroy not only her but also you.

“You have to, my daughter won’t stay with you otherwise. Are you really ready to give up love for power?” He hands her the last cup of tea, the scent of jasmine wafts up and fills her senses. She slowly goes to pick up the cup, her hands shaking.

She’s so overwhelmed, none of this is meant to be happening. She’s supposed to win and you're meant to love and support her, then she proposes with a beautiful emerald ring that she’d make herself and you’d say yes. That’s how it’s meant to go, that’s how she has envisioned it since day one.

“This isn’t how it’s meant to go” she confesses, your father sets a soft hand on her own to help stop the shaking.

“How do you think it’s meant to go?” And so she tells him what she just thought, and she adds on how both of you would continue to better this country together and maybe, one day in the far future, have a child.

“Did you ever ask Y/n if that’s what she wants?” Your mother tries to keep her voice calm, tries to keep from yelling at her again. Kuvira stares down at the cup, trying to wrack her brain around the time you’d chime in with the future you wanted, or a time she even asked. “Just because it’s the future you planned for her doesn’t mean it's the one she wants. You can’t just plan everything out without including your partner's opinions and desires into the equation.”

You once talked about what your wedding would be like with Kuvira chiming in every once in a while, but that was it. That was the only time you mentioned anything regarding the future.

“Love is about equality, you both should be putting in equal effort. It’s a delicate balance that takes time to learn, give, and take. It’s not always going to be perfect even with your soulmate but you make it work for each other. If my daughter stayed with you all these years then she must love you, but for her to put her foot down shows she has had enough.” Your father's voice is soothing and calms her down just a bit.

“But…” Kuvira’s voice shakes, “what do I do if I give up control? It’ll never go back to how it was before, how am I meant to go back to everyday life after everything I’ve done? After knowing I probably could have done more.”

“No one knows what life will be like after. But I think a few years down the road you could get back to the place you were at before, maybe a new and improved version due to all the knowledge you’ve acquired over the years and due to having Y/n with you,” he takes a sip of his tea after speaking and delicately sets it down on its saucer.

“I know you need control in your life Kuvira, it’s what made you good at being Captain, but you need to let go. Everyone has to let go at some point and this is your time,” your mother says. Kuvira’s eyes glance around the room as she feels her heart begin to pound, it feels like any second it’ll leap out of her chest. Let go? The idea sends her mind spiraling with horrifying scenarios of what might happen.

“We may not like you, but if you drop this once and for all, and make our daughter happy then,” your mother lets out a deep sigh “we will be here to support and help you.” Tears glisten in her eyes as she stares at the both of them. “If our daughter loves you then that must mean there’s still some good left in you.”

Kuvira begins to softly cry, a hand comes up to cover her mouth as her shoulders hunch in on themselves. Your dad lets out a soft sigh and says “c’mere,” before pulling her into his arms and hugging her. Kuvira doesn’t hug him back nor pull away, she just sits there and cries into his shoulder. She knows what she must do and it terrifies her, fills her with doubt, and causes her stomach to clench from anxiety.

“You need to bring her back to us, please,” he whispers, and Kuvira nods. Slowly he pulls away from her and offers her a gentle, comforting squeeze on the shoulder. She desperately wipes at her eyes, suddenly embarrassed to have cried in front of them, and lets out a shuddering breath.

“You should go find her,” your mother says. Kuvira stands on wobbly legs, her hand placed firmly on the table for support. When she’s fully upright your father pulls her back into a hug, a short one this time. Kuvira awkwardly pats his back until he lets go.

Your mother stays seated, staring her down. “Don’t break her heart,” she says. Kuvira vehemently nods, her eyes wide. She will do whatever it takes to protect your beautiful heart and if you forgive her she will cherish it every second of every day.

She leaves shortly after that, your dad gives her a cookie before letting her leave which turns out to be really good and she walks over to the tram station. It’s since been fixed so when she presses the button requesting its presence it zooms by and opens its doors for her. The chairs are still messed up, just laying there a mess of something hardly resembling what they used to be. The tram takes her out of the city and to the entrance where she wastes no time hopping into a jeep and speeding off.

The midmorning sun beats down, today is incredibly hot and causes little beads of sweat to form on her forehead. When she gets to the encampment Kuvira slows just barely and everyone moves out of the way at the sound of the car barreling through. She abruptly stops it and jumps down before heading into her tent.

Inside Kuvira marches to her radio, she disregards the state of it and doesn’t even notice the filing cabinet you broke as she tunes into the main radio station the encampment uses. “Radio Freedom, what do you need?”

“Find y/n and send her to my tent.”

“Of course, great uniter. I’ll tell all my men to search for her.” The voice stutters out a reply before she switches it off. Spirits she feels like she might go crazy whilst she waits for you. She leans against the front of her desk with her arms crossed as she tries to come up with some grand speech of how much she loves you, of how your love and presence is what has kept her sane over these last few years.

She looks up at the ceiling and sighs, the idea is terrifying but she chooses you, she’ll let go of her defenses and send her men home for you.

The sound of fabric rustling has Kuvira snapping her head back down to stare into your eyes. You look pissed, you don’t have on your jacket so the white undershirt sticks to your sweaty skin and you have your hair in a messy ponytail instead of the usual bun.

Kuvira wets her lips before speaking, “I spoke to your parents.” Your eyes widen at that, Kuvira continues “I didn’t realize I knew your mom, she helped train me when I first joined the guard.” And she hates my guts which I don’t blame her, Kuvira thinks. I let her down, just like I let you down.

You finally look into her eyes and spirits, even with that furious look on your face you take her breath away. “So?”

“She’s a blunt woman, and when I told her about us neither of your parents were pleased.” You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, she wishes she could know what’s going on inside your head. “But they gave me a piece of useful advice, something I probably could have had use of hearing all those years ago.”

She slowly walks over to you, hesitantly so. When she’s close enough you look her over and purse your lips. There’s a slight look of concern written on your features and it swells her heart with a hint of hope.

“That if I love you, it shouldn’t just be me taking from you, but by asking you to hide everything and go along with my plans that was exactly what I did. I realize now I never even asked what you want, what you envision when you see our future.”

You begin to silently cry and she has to use all of her willpower to keep from reaching forward to wipe away your tears.

“It should be equal. Give and take and be there for each other. There shouldn’t be punishments or silent treatment,” Kuvira pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you want?”

You squeeze your eyes shut at her words, your bottom lip trembling. You get lost in your thoughts, something you do often but Kuvira decides not to pull you out. She’ll give you all the time you need to reply.

“I want peace,” you say, your voice a mere whisper. But she hears you loud and clear. “I want this all to end and I want us to finally be able to love one another in front of others. I don’t want any of this, I can’t peacefully live in a world where this… this mission is a success.”

Kuvira takes a step forward and opens her mouth to pour out all of her feelings, to promise that she’ll end it when something interrupts your moment. A shout and gunfire pierce through the air. Kuvira’s heart drops and she rushes forward to look outside of the tent.

Her men are scrambling around like ants, stumbling to get to their places. She makes out a clash of fire and earth up ahead and runs out, leaving you behind. She turns a corner and comes face first with one of her men, instead of informing her of what’s going on he shoots a ball of fire at her. Kuvira’s eyes widen as she bends up a wall to protect her.

“C’mon oh great uniter! Fight me” he shouts. Kuvira’s nostrils flare as she pushes the wall forward towards the man, it hits him and sends him stumbling back. As she advances with hands clenched, ready to activate his bracelet he shoots a spiraling wave of fire out of his foot that has Kuvira jumping out of the way. “It’s even ground now,” he says in a smug tone as he raises her pant leg to show a naked ankle. What?

Her heart races as she stands back up, cracking her neck to the side. She fought the avatar, she can fight this puny fire bender. Kuvira gets into stance, smirking as she shoots out two pieces of metal, one wraps around his ankle and the other around his neck, and with a twist of her wrist, he’s flying backward, slamming into the metal wall of one of the guardhouses.

“Kuvira!” She hears you spit out, her head turns as she watches you desperately run over with an enraged look on your face. You bend the metal off the poor man, he falls to the floor with a groan. “Leave him alone.”

“He is defying me!” Her eyes widened in rage, how could you defend him? “He is one of my soldiers and he just tried to kill me.”

“He was never one of your soldiers!” Your fists are clenched as you try to control your anger, “you forced him into this!”

With both of you distracted he raises once more, letting out a pained groan before shooting a small, weaker bolt of fire. You shoot up a wall for the both of you, keeping your gaze trained on your lover. “It’s him or me.”

Kuvira lets out a growl of anger at your words, loyal earth empire soldiers rush past towards the battlefield, ignoring the lover's quarrel as they shout out commands to one another. “Why are you defending him!?”

“Because Kuvira what we did back then wasn’t right, because I made a promise to myself to protect them and I will not break it!” Her eyes widen, stumbling back a step. There’s so much going on in her head, she just wants to silence all the anger and confusion that burns within this situation.

“You freed him?” She asks incredulously, you thickly swallow before nodding.

“I freed all of them.” Your wall begins to crumble, the fire bender has since left, leaving the two of you to stare at one another. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I should have never let you cage them in as you did. You asked me early what I want? I want you to let this war go, I want you to leave them alone and surrender!”

“I can’t do that!” Not now, not after being attacked, not after seeing that her men are in some sort of danger. Your hands reach up to cup her cheeks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yes you can, I know you can Kuvira.”

She rips herself out of your grasp, suddenly feeling like your touch will poison her. Poison her resolve and burn away all of her control. She needs this war to thrive, she needs it more than air itself.

A deafening boom is heard from behind her, once more she leaves you behind but this time she feels you hot on her heels as she runs towards the battle. Kuvira vaguely makes out something moving in the air, she squints her eyes to figure out what it is and the object swoops down just a bit to drop down soldiers that aren’t hers. It’s a sky bison she realizes, that must mean Korra is here.

She sees that one of the people that dropped down is Bolin as he lava bends a circle around him and his team to protect them from her soldiers. He wastes no time as he bends up a chunk of earth and hurls it towards the soldiers, most don’t jump out of the way in time, the force of it knocks them down and causes them to pass out. She hopes they are just passed out.

The others around him are all different kinds of benders donning makeshift armor under their shaggy and ripped clothes, Kuvira realizes with a stunned expression that it’s the reeducation camp uniforms. Her heart pounds as more of her men fall all around her, the comforting words of your father worm their way into her head as she squeezes her eyes shut. The young dictator stumbles back and pulls at the roots of her hair in frustration, she can’t let this go, can’t give up.

This is the most in control she’s ever felt, she no longer fears for her life or for her future, it was within reach and exactly what she imagined it to be. With her rule, she thought she erased any chance of reliving her younger years, alone and heartbroken as the longing for someone to hold her ate her up. Suyin’s comforting words never worked, but the sound of her men marching did.

When Kuvira opens her eyes she sees that more of her men have fallen and Bolin’s group has moved on, she surges forward to eradicate them when your hand wraps around her forearm and pulls her back. She looks over her shoulder with a snarl, not realizing it’s you.

“Don’t make me choose between you and my country.”

“It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

But if she does choose this war, this overabundance of control she will be alone and heartbroken because you will leave her. You made it clear yesterday that you won’t stand by and support this anymore, that you won’t stay by her side if she chooses this path. Your fingers through her hair work too, your soothing words are like a balm to her soul and your smile eases her into this warm state of calmness.

With you, she doesn’t need the marching of her men or the rush she gets when getting someone to sign over their land. You give it to her without a second thought, you give to her because you love her and your love doesn’t come with a price or consequences.

You tug her to the trunk of a jeep and force her climb onto it. When she stands up on the hunk of metal you grab her cheeks and force her to look at the battle ahead. More and more of her men are falling as air benders use their full force and mecha suits shoot them down. Kuvira then notices the lack of mecha suits on her side and how in the middle of the field there’s a clash of green uniforms going against one another. The field lights up with all forms of bending as each man readily gives their life to her cause.

“If you surrender your men will be fine! Kuvira be the woman I know you are, stand down!” You pull her eyes away from the scene so she can look at you, look into your eyes that are full of fear and desperation.

“Bu-” Her heart begins to race, she feels like she may vomit.

“I need you Kuvira! I need you more than them, so surrender,” you bite your lip. “For us, please Vira.”

You pull her into a breathtaking kiss that's anything but romantic, your fingers squeeze a bit tighter at her cheeks as you slant your lips against her own, she shakily brings her own hands up to grip your waist in a bruising hold.

When you pull away, there’s a tear racing down your cheek as you stare into her eyes. “Please.”

“Fine!” She spits out, her throat feels like it’s closing up as her fingers begin to shake. This is everything she’s worked towards for three years, every agonizing day spent pouring herself into documents and threatening governors and mayors into submitting to her will.

Every kiss she ever gave Baatar, every time she ignored your pleading eyes.

She’s about to give it all up for you and feels panic scrap through her as if it were wrapped in barbed wire and she doesn’t know what to do, her whole body shakes as she looks around at the mess she created.

“We need to get to the fro-” Your eyes widen, trained on something behind her.

“Watch out!” You scream, pushing her out of the way. An icicle bolts through the air, it all seems so slow and yet happens so fast. Kuvira goes stumbling back, barely able to keep herself up, her gaze moved from you during the push so when she hears the sound of you letting out some sort of strangled sound her head whips over to see the icicle lodged in your lower left stomach. Your white shirt begins to turn red as blood spills out. She’s frozen in place as she watches you slowly lift a hand to touch your wound as a pained whimper leaves your lips.

That terrible noise rips her out of her frozen state and she dashes over to hold you as you begin to fall to your knees. When Kuvira looks over to see where the icicle came from she looks into the wide, terrified eyes of one of the rebels. It’s one of the ones you helped free.

Before she can even think of all the ways she’s going to kill that woman you croak out “Vira?” Her gaze flickers back to yours, tears are welling up in your eyes and Kuvira feels the warm blood begin to spill onto her hands.

“I’m gonna save you, gonna find someone to heal you.” Her voice is high pitched and cracking but she doesn’t care. “You are not going to die.” Kuvira looks around for someone to help save you, her one chance at happiness from going up in flames. She feels her vision blur as she desperately turns her head in all directions when it lands on the blue robes of the water benders fighting on Korra’s side.

One of them has to be a healer, she thinks. “I need to lay you down so I can drive,” you grip at her wrist, your eyes widening at the idea of her letting go of you. “It’s the only way I can save you, I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly she doesn’t care about anything but you, her fear of losing control has been replaced with the fear of losing you. She can’t lose you, you're the light in her life and without you, she’ll once more be the abandoned, unlovable ward of Suyin.

She quickly leans down to press a firm kiss to your forehead before gently setting you down in the trunk of the car before clumsily jumping into the front seat and turning the key. The jeep roars to life, the only problem is how her pathway is blocked.

Kuvira stands in her seat and pulls two large walls from the earth, soldiers stumble out of the way as she pushes it through the battlefield, offering a small, clear pathway for her to drive through. She floors it and hears you groaning in the background, causing her to grip the steering wheel harder.

Her hands keep slipping from being soaked in your blood, she fights with all her might to not look down at them, knowing she needs to focus on the road ahead. Her wall ends halfway so with one hand she bends two walls again, it takes a bit longer and these walls are much shorter and less sturdy but it does the trick.

Suddenly Korra appears at the end of the pathway, her hands once lit with fire extinguish at the frantic look on Kuvira’s face. She makes it to the end of the pathway, Korra jumps out of the way as Kuvira slams her foot on the brakes. The car comes to a screeching halt and without a second to lose Kuvira is scrambling out of the front seat to where she left you.

Kuvira lets out a loud, strangled sob at the sight before her. Your skin is so pale and there’s so much blood, the floor of the trunk is coated in the deep red and Kuvira bites back a sob. You look up at her, softly saying “Vira?”

Kuvira’s wet hands go to rest on your cheeks, she looks up at Korra and screams “I need a healer!” Her scream snaps Korra out of her daze and she rushes over to the jeep, when she opens the door of the trunk and sees blood begin to trickle off the edge, her heart drops.

She’s never met you before but Suyin told her enough to know you're the one who helped them. She climbs into the truck, her brown pants slowly sticking to her skin from the blood.

The icicle has melted now, leaving in its wake a gaping hole as she summons water from one of the vats they brought for the benders and encases her hands in it. She’s only ever healed herself and it was never something so severe.

“Please,” Kuvira says to the avatar, her wet words scraping out of her throat as she continues to cry. “Please save her.” Korra nods, keeping her gaze on your wound as her hands begin to glow and hover over the gaping hole.

Neither of them notices how the fight has halted, Kuvira’s soldiers waiting for her to end the avatar due to how close they are. Their leader begins to sob as she desperately holds your neck so she can lift your head and set it on her lap. The metal probably isn’t very comfortable. Your cheeks and neck now have bloody handprints on them as Kuvira repeats like a mantra “You’ll be fine, you’re gonna be fine. I love you so much, you’re gonna live.”

Korra calls over her shoulder “I need another healer!” Two waterbenders rush over, water already bent around their hands as they climb up to help. All of their hands glow as they hover over your wound, “she’s lost a lot of blood” one of them says to the other.

“Just fix it!” Kuvira demands, her heart dropping at his comment, neither of them acknowledges her as they continue to work on her soulmate, one of your hands weakly grab at her wrist so she’ll look at you, her gaze snaps to yours and she softens in an instant. “Everything’s gonna be okay, my love. Okay?”

“Okay,” you weakly reply. Kuvira rests her forehead against your own, trying to keep from screaming out. “I love you, Vira.”

“I love you too, y/n. I love you so much.” She continues to repeat herself, you look up into her eyes with a small, adoring smile.

It feels like hours go by as they work on you. Whilst the three water tribe members try to save your life, Suyin walks up with a solemn look on her face. “You need to end this, Kuvira.”

Her eyes pull away from yours to look into those of Suyin’s and she angrily spits out “I don’t care, end it. So long as Y/n lives I don’t care.” Her men at the very front of her army hear her though and all let out differing noises of surprise. “I surrender.”

Suyin begins to spit out orders on how to arrest her men, she sends the other Beifongs back to Zaofu to clean up Kuvira’s mess whilst everyone else stays on the battlefield to help her arrest and detain the earth empire loyalists. Kuvira places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to watch it all be ripped from her, she focuses on your breathing as she tunes out the youngest Beifong sister.

Every once in a while you groan out in pain and Kuvira’s heart clenches with fear each time. “We’ve done all we can for now,” Korra says softly from behind her. Kuvira looks over her shoulder at the Avatar and sees Suyin walk up to the edge of the trunk with her arms crossed over her chest. “You can send me away to prison once she’s better, just don’t take me away from her just yet.”

“I made a promise to Y/n and I may not like it but I will stand by it. By ending this war you will be put under house arrest, we need Y/n awake before we can do that though.” Suyin sighs, Kuvira’s gaze shifts to your own at Suyin’s words but she finds them shut.

Frantically, fearful that you won’t ever wake up, she places two fingers on your pulse. It’s weak, but there. “She’s just sleeping, she’ll need lots of it.”

“Y/n said she’ll choose the city for herself, for now, we’ll need to cuff you and take the both of you back to Zaofu so she can get the rest she needs.”

She pulls your body up and into her arms so she can hold you, your head lulls onto her shoulder and you let out a soft groan at the movement.

She places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes as she hears orders being given by the younger Beifong sister. She doesn’t listen, too focused on your breathing to care. She has willingly given up her army for you, and she’d do it again if it means saving your life.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok fanfic #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra #lok #fanfic #the great divide

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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surveys by chasingghosts

Just a boring word association survey inspired by one of my old ones. Say the first thing that comes to your head. Don't overthink it :)

Keyboard: Monitor.

Dog: Dalmatian.

School: Pencils.

Italy: Roman Holiday. Ahh one of my favorite movies; such a classic.

Fire: BTS, heh.

Table: Chairs.

Mask: Face mask. New normal and all.

Blanket: Weighted blankets. I still don’t get how they work and I keep imagining that a 20-lbs blanket would feel too warm...I guess I’m willing to try it for a night, but I dunno if I would want to spend 5,000 bucks on one.

Gun: That curly-haired blonde dumbass from the US who keeps bringing one around.

Soda: Fizzy. Do not like.

Man: Trash.

Beautiful: Beast. Beautiful and the Beast is the knockoff version, hahaha.

Country: Roads.

Dictionary: Thesaurus.

Play: Playgrounds.

Yoga: Mat.

Cross: Country.

Happy: Emojis.

Change: Coins.

Orange: The fruit with the same name. Also, hair dye.

Cereal: Fruity Pebbles and Lucky Charms.

Record: Vinyl records, aka what I would like to invest in eventually.

Jail: The Shawshank Redemption, even though I personally didn’t really like it lmao.

Tank: This made me think of the Elisa Lam case. It’s unfortunate what happened to her but personally, I’ll always be more disturbed by the stories of people who had to drink or bathe in that nasty contaminated water.

Plane: Travel. :(

Machine: Factories.

Empty: Outer space.

Medicine: Nasty taste. Whenever I was sick as a kid my parents/grandma always made me drink Tempra which tastes like shit and it took a lot of effort for me not to throw them back up. I hope kids these days have more better-tasting options for medicine.

Stockings: Uncomfortable. I hate stockings and always dread occasions where I’ll have to put them on. Fortunately I haven’t had to for five years now.

Curry: Spicy and aromatic.

Football: Superbowl. Or is it SuperBowl? Super Bowl? Anyway, that event.

Blonde: Jennifer Aniston, heheh.

Pink: Barbie.

Cart: Online shopping.

Bag: Herschel.

Bourbon: Breaking Bad, though I’m not sure if it was indeed bourbon that Hank/Walt regularly drank. First thing that came to mind, though.

Karaoke: Philippine parties.

Caterpillar: That chemical they release when they’re stepped on.

Wizard: Harry Potter.

Number: Queues, lol.

Tired: Myself.

Baby: Baby videos.

Beach: Moana.

Castle: The first thing I thought of is this big orange castle - that is actually an inn - that I would have to pass by every single morning on my way to school, from kinder to high school. It looked like such a pretty, magical castle as a kid and I, along with probably all of my schoolmates who went the same route, thought a real princess lived in it; it just felt that magical. But as I got older I realized most inns/hotels with outlandish gimmicks are the cheap and tacky ones, so the magic was ruined for me as the years went by, haha.

Rock: Patrick Star from Spongebob, since he lives under one.

Hotel: Top-notch hospitality and service.

Weather: Gloomy.

Beanbag: Comfort.

Clean: Vacuum cleaners...and my mom.

Angry: Rage.

I was inspired to make this when I saw a similar survey on here. Answer true or false, or simply mark an 'x' for what applies to you.

Michelle:

You love anything Disney related. I mean not anything? I wouldn’t want Disney merch of every single thing that could be turned into merch; but I do love Disney movies and they have always been great at creating songs that make you feel all magical and giddy inside.

You find any excuse to go shopping. False. I haven’t created a hobby out of shopping; at least not yet, I think. But going inside H&M several times for the past month to buy gifts for my friends has definitely helped in making me see the appeal of shopping. For now, though, I’d still rather do my browsing and shopping in non-clothing stores.

You’re younger than most of your friends. False. I have older and younger friends, but most of them are also 1998 babies since most of my friends are the people I went to school with.

You have really long hair, to your waist or longer. False. It has gotten a lot longer over the past year, but it’s still only up to my upper chest.

You’re pretty antisocial. False. I don’t like throwing this term around loosely because it’s a real personality disorder. I have also gotten more comfortable with people in the last few years and I don’t prefer to be alone anymore.

You have a pet dog/cat that sleeps in your bed with you. False. Either are terrible in staying in bed.

You haven’t had your first kiss yet. False. I had it six years ago, and I have shared hundreds and probably thousands of kisses after that.

You’re Asian. We finally got one! Haha.

You’re good at cooking. Yeah, this is the biggest false statement in this category.

You have dreams of working as a chef. I can see how it’s appealing, but it was never a career dream of mine. My dad is a chef, though.

Cheyenne:

You’re blonde, but not naturally. I currently don’t have plans to dye my hair blonde.

You always have your fingernails painted. False. I’m the complete opposite of this, but I do want to start having my nails painted professionally as a way to pamper myself from time to time.

You obsess over things easily, to the point of them taking over your life. True, I guess. I get very sensitive and I overthink and overanalyze a lot of actions and situations that aren’t meant to be more than what they actually are. Just last night and this morning I had a bunch of dreams that had to do with a work-related problem I ran into last night. When I feel anxious about something, they would undoubtedly take over my life and it would take a while to break free from them.

You spend a lot of time on the internet. For almost every single minute that I am awake, yes. Sometimes I’ll attempt to disconnect every now and then - which I’ve been better at, to be fair to myself - but it’s always only a matter of time before I will have to look something up on Google.

Your phone may as well be surgically attached to your hand. True. I will occasionally turn it completely off so that no notifications come in, especially during weekends and holidays; but it stays close to me all the same.

You use Snapchat way too much. False. Not anymore, but I definitely used too. I had Snap streaks of varying lengths with a lot of my friends back then.

You eat a lot of fast food. True and I don’t really feel bad about it, lmao. I love food that tastes good.

You love a bit of gossip. Also true. Not my nicest trait but I do like to keep updated. I mostly receive them though; I never spread or start any myself.

You’re really good at keeping secrets. It’s not my story to tell, so yes, true. I used to share secrets only with Gabie since she was very forgetful, but obviously I don’t have that kind of person anymore.

You’ve never had a boyfriend/girlfriend. False. I’ve had one and we had two stints together.

Morgan:

You work as a receptionist. False, but my mom used to be one. This was before she made the transfer to a more corporate workspace as a secretary.

You eat a lot of food yet you’re still so thin. True. Runs in both sides of the family.

Your siblings are your best friends. My sister and I have a very casual relationship, and while we’re on great terms we don’t do cheesy nor sentimental. I’m not on speaking terms with my brother.

Not many people see your face without makeup. False. Everybody sees me without makeup all the time precisely because I don’t like putting makeup on.

You spend your money carelessly. I can, especially when it comes to spoiling myself or other people. But I am also equally good at saving if I have to.

You dream of living overseas one day. I can confidently tell you that a lot of Filipinos consider this because the situation here hasn’t been stable for the longest time – politically, because we’ve always been led by incompetent heads; economically, because of the Marcoses’ dictatorship and abuse of power and the country’s funds; and socially, because of all the backward, Catholic stances that my country continues to stand for. I would love to live in a place where I wouldn’t be glared at for holding a girl’s hand or where most people are educated enough to vote responsible people into office.

You have a penpal. False. Never had one, never been interested in finding one.

You’re older than most of your friends. False. I vibe the best with people my age so even if I do have some younger friends, my comfort zone are with those who are also 22.

Most of your friends live out of town. An overwhelming majority of them live in Metro Manila, yes. I live just right outside so technically I’m the one who lives ~out of town~

You swear like a sailor. Eh, not anymore. I still let out a number of swear words daily, though. Just not in every sentence.

Tom:

You have so many nicknames that it’s hard for you to keep track. False. I have a grand total of one nickname, and even that is just reserved for family. Most people just call me Robyn.

You have large feet. False as well. My feet are small and can easily slip into size 5 or 6 shoes.

Most of your friends are of the opposite sex. Can’t say this is true. I can only think of one guy friend, who is Hans. I haven’t been able to keep up with my other friends, like JM and Ed, since most of them are busy with either law or med school, and simply because Covid has kept us from seeing each other.

Romantic relationships make you shy and nervous. Getting into one does. Once settled I’m pretty comfortable, mainly because I enjoy nothing more than looking out for the people I love. I’m not looking for a relationship though; not anytime soon.

You watch reality shows religiously. Eh, I wouldn’t describe it as ‘religiously’ but I do watch my fair share of them from time to time when I just want stupid, too-easy-to-digest content.

Pop music is your favourite. One of my favorites. I used to be shy about liking Top 40 songs but the older I get the more I realized that that’s music snobs’ problem and shouldn’t be mine.

Family is very important to you. Only because I’m Asian and family being ~important comes as a default the moment I was born. I’m not emotionally close with them though and they honestly probably wouldn’t weigh so much if I had to make major decisions, like migrating to the other side of the world or having a civil wedding.

You’re the youngest child in your family. False - complete opposite. I am the eldest.

You call your mother by her first name. False. Save for others who may not have the best relationships with their mothers, why would someone do this? :/

You dream of living in a big city one day. True. Yeah, absolutely. Give me all the construction noises and busy traffic and skyscrapers. I feel like I would be the most alive I’ve ever been once I start to live in a loud and hectic big city.

Harry:

You’re determined and motivated in all aspects of your life. Not always. That sounds exhausting. I allow myself to take a breather every now and then; and if I want to be unproductive for a while, I don’t ban myself from being so.

You’re much taller than the majority of your friends. Haha, definitely false. I belong to the smaller batch. I had a massive growth spurt from ages 9-10 but then it just kinda stopped there lol.

You go to the gym at least three days a week. Not the gym, but I do work out from home with that frequency.

You care a lot about your appearance. Ehhh I’m gonna say false. Having to stay/work from home does that. I like dressing up when I get to go outside though, since I seldom get to do it.

You’re a social butterfly. Trueish. I do like being around people more and more now, yeah; but of course, it’s still a work in progress for me. One thing I’m sure if is that I’m definitely not as introverted as I used to be and I have no problem opening up in a group.

You party almost every weekend. I’d love to, but can’t do that for the meantime.

You’re very straightforward and never repeat yourself. Ideally, yes. I like to move on quickly from things and settle them as fast as I can.

You love to write and have been told you’re talented. I do like to write, just not fiction stuff. Writing is my main talent and so I’ve gotten a lot of compliments on it over the years.

You consider yourself intelligent. Booksmart, at least.

You’re a bit of a player. Like, when it comes to relationships and flirting? ...Hell no. Again, very straightforward person lmao I’m either in a relationship or not.

Zack:

You’re in a band. False. Never been and never been interested.

You’re straight-edge. HAH, remember when I claimed to be edge when I was a teenager...I will say that listening to punk throughout high school and being familiar with the straight edge scene gave me a sense of belonging for a time, and it taught me so many important mindsets like positive mental attitude. But I can admit to myself that straight edge was a commitment I failed at, and as the saying goes, “If you’re not now, you never were.” I’ll always be thankful to the movement for helping me keep going during my tough teenage years, though.

You can play two or more instruments. Will it count if I say I know how to play the recorder, maracas, and the triangle? Hahahahaha but in all seriousness, I believe I don’t deserve to bold this.

You’re an uncle/aunt. I’m a godmother, which is pretty much aunt status in the Philippines. My godson is my first cousin though, and him being my cousin takes precedence over the fact that he is my godson.

You love Doctor Who. False. Never got into it.

You’re short for your age and most of your friends tower over you. I’m shorter, thinner, and look younger for my age. Long story short, I look like I’m 16 and I’m the one who gets ID’d the most whenever I enter bars or malls. I always feel triumphant whenever I get to show my driver’s license to judgy bouncers or security guards who look at me all conceitedly, though.

You’ve been cheated on before. False. My ex is heavily against cheating, and I always trusted her.

You have a big family. Any Asian would bold this, let’s be real. My immediate family itself is small with only 5 members; but my entire family – 1st cousins, 2nd cousins, 3rd cousins (and so on), cousins-in-law, cousins of cousins, aunts- and uncles-in-law, great-aunts/uncles and all – would amount to hundreds of relatives.

You have a nap every single day, without fail. Can’t do that as I have a busy 8-hour shift each weekday and I make up for it during weekends by drinking multiple cups of coffee a day.

You’re mostly quiet, but you can be loud when the situation calls for it. Definitely true. Or when I’m with the right mix of people.

Jenny:

You’re really good with computers. False. I know most things a Gen Z-er would know about, like basic spreadsheet formulas, keyboard shortcuts, how to retrieve files that crashed – basically the stuff that would let me survive at work; but to this day, I will still ask my much-techier sister how to download fonts or open ZIPs or compress photos.

You’re shy. At first; but I no longer have a hard time warming up to new people or situations.

You underestimate yourself often. True. While I know this isn’t a very good trait of mine, I find that it’s actually helpful sometimes? Setting my expectations low helps make me proud of myself whenever I succeed or excel at a task. In the long run, I’m okay with this mindset.

You recently moved house. The last time I did this was in 2008. I’m not looking to move out any time soon either as I make far from enough to afford even just renting a place.

You have a German Shepherd. False. The only people I know who own one is Chelsea’s family, but it’s been like five years since I saw that dog.

You wear baggy clothes. False. Not my style.

You almost always wear a beanie. False. I am never seen with a beanie and I only wear one when I’m in places with a much colder climate than Manila, like Baguio.

You have long hair if you’re a boy, and short hair if you’re a girl. Also false. My hair has since gotten a lot longer, and I’m due for another trim.

You recently got out of a really long relationship. True. Not my choice, but true.

You’re in a band. Again, never been.

Emily:

You’re a really good drawer. You mean an artist? False. At 22, I can only promise you stick figures.

You can’t help but doodle on anything you see. If there’s a pen and scratch paper lying around that are free to use, I will most definitely use up the whole page. Instead of doodling, though – since I can’t draw – I write things, practice my penmanship to make sure it hasn’t gotten all rusty, and whatnot.

You want a career in art. False. That career path has always been paved for my sister.

You’re basically a personal taxi service for your friends who can’t drive. Hahaha this was essentially me in pre-pandemic days. Driving is such a simple good deed for someone considering the shitty public transportation in my country, and I would’ve been an asshole if I didn’t do anything to help my friends out.

Jeans and band shirts are your favourite thing to wear. Mom jeans and just *t-shirts are overall a great casual combo that never gets dated; but I don’t do band shirts.

You’re always wearing a necklace and lots of wristbands/bracelets. False. I would love more jewelry, though.

You have a lot of piercings on your ears. Also false. I’m not interested in piercings.

Your hair is currently an unnatural colour. False. It’s just black.

Not many people see your loud and boisterous side. I save this for my super super close friends.

You have several friend groups which you move between often. I can think of three off the top of my head.

Jack:

You always seem to have a boyfriend/girlfriend. This was me for six yearssssss, haha. The image I held for the longest time is that I was off the market and was in a happy, fulfilling, long-term relationship; so these days, it can get kinda fun watching people fumble around, not used to seeing me single again after what feels like a lifetime.

You have a fear of being single. I used to, only because I was taken for a really long time. I didn’t know if singlehood would work out for me, or how I would handle it. It took some getting used to but I’m happy now. I’m not looking to date, much less consider jumping into another romantic relationship.

When you’re not in a relationship, you’re a big flirter. Not at all. The flirting/dating scene is just not for me.

You are really sensitive and sympathetic towards your friends. I mean...like any good friend? Lmao.

Music means a lot to you. It doesn’t keep me alive per se, but sure.

You often overdo it when you drink alcohol. I wouldn’t say so. I like chugging a lot within the first 30 minutes (which helps because I’m low-tolerance and get lit way earlier than others do lol) but because I’ve always had to drive myself home after drinking nights in college, I’ve been conditioned to still be responsible with my alcohol and to start sobering up 2 hours before I have to leave.

You have no shame and love to be silly and have fun. I do like having fun in many ways, but I am probably the most rigid among my friends. I don’t really like doing silly dares or skits or dances in public.

You’re impulsive and this isn’t always a good thing. I’m working on it and have been better at it over the last few months. Now I take more time to think about things and weigh them out before I make a decision.

You have facial hair. False. There’s some light hair above my lip, nothing super thick or recognizable.

You have a baby brother/sister. False. I have younger siblings but I call neither of them my baby sibling because they are 20 and 17, lmao.

Nicole:

You’re madly in love with your significant other. I don’t get to answer this anymore. If you met me at an earlier time I would’ve gladly said yes, though.

You want to get married when you’re young. False. I want to get married when I feel mature enough and financially capable of handling a marriage and the things that can come out of a marriage, like a house and kids.

You’re quite petite. I’m naturally petite, yes. I’ve always been on the skinny side and I’m also shorter than most of my friends.

You dye your hair regularly. False. It has stayed black all my life, but I do want to experiment with green.

It’s almost impossible for you to feel the cold. False. I’m very sensitive to the cold and will shiver easily in an air-conditioned room.

You’re really good at flattering other people. Sure, I like giving compliments and reassurances.

You’re very self-conscious. And very insecure sometimes, yeah.

You find it difficult to make new friends. Sure, but only because I like to control the people that are in my circle. I’m not desperate to have hundreds of friends so this isn’t an issue for me.

People often stereotype you as emo. I have never gotten this before.

You’ve come a long way in the past couple of years. What can I say? Been through a lot, been through hell and back, been discarded and doubted, but I’m still here.

The end.

Who were you most like? Cheyenne. Cute name, too.

#survey #surveys #multiple surveys

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years

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I'VE BEEN PONDERING TOPLEVEL

Object-oriented abstractions. Incidentally, nothing makes it more patently obvious that the old chestnut all languages are equivalent is false than designing languages. 80% of the time you get to social questions, many changes are just fashion. Except for some books in math and the hard sciences.1 These people's opinions change with every wind. I'm inclined to think there isn't—that good design has to be new—that it didn't predict anything. A few hundred thousand, perhaps, out of billions. What can't we say? But, as in more recent times indecent, improper, and unamerican have been.2 A friend of mine asked Ryan about this, it was even better than C; and plug-and-chug undergrads, who are amazed to find that there is something wrong with you if you thought things you didn't dare say out loud.3

I'm just stupid, or have sex, or eat some delicious food, than work on hard problems. This second group adopt the fashion not because they want to do more than just shock everyone with the heresy du jour. Com signals strength even if it is a huge win in developing software to have an interactive toplevel, what in Lisp is called a read-eval-print loop. In the process of developing the pitch for the first conference, someone must have decided they'd better take a stab at explaining what that 2. No one does that kind of thing for fun.4 Back in the days of fanfold, there was a new kind of computer that's as well designed as a Bang & Olufsen stereo system, and underneath is the best Unix machine you can buy individual songs instead of having to buy whole albums. But it's harder than it looks. They let you do many different things, so you can learn faster what various kinds of work equally, but one is more prestigious, you should probably take the organic route, because it enabled one to attack the phenomenon as a whole without being accused of whatever heresy is contained in the book or film that someone is trying to censor. This article is derived from a keynote talk at the fall 2002 meeting of NEPLS.

The philosophy's there, but it's too late for them to do anything more than the name of the Web 2. And why? Now it means a smaller, younger, more technical group that just decided to make something great. The first sentence of this essay explains that.5 This metric needs fleshing out, and it is a huge and rapidly growing business.6 The reason this won't turn into a second Bubble is that the side that's shocked is most likely to get good design you have to get close, and stay close, to your users.7 If you can think things so outside the box that people call innovative.8 There's no other name as good. Com of your name is that it lets you jump over obstacles. The 2005 Web 2. If you want to fight back, there are several ideas mixed together in the concept of spare time seems mistaken.9

If you work hard at being a bond trader for ten years, just walk around the CS department at a good university. If smaller source code is the purpose of comparing languages, because they will probably use small problems, and will necessarily use predefined problems, will tend to bet wrong. This is an interesting question. Type of x first. Sun now pretends that Java is a grassroots, open-source language effort like Perl or Python.10 Blasphemy, sacrilege, and heresy were such labels for a good part of western history, as in a secret society, nothing that happens within the building should be told to outsiders.11 Explaining himself later, he said I don't do litmus tests. 0 applied to music would probably mean individual bands giving away DRMless songs for free. He wanted to spend his time thinking about biology, not arguing with people who accused him of being an atheist. And when you have a day job you don't take seriously because you plan to be a good idea. Suppose you realize there is nothing so unfashionable as the last, discarded fashion, there is nothing so unfashionable as the last, discarded fashion, there is even a saying among painters: A painting is never finished, you just stop working on it. But it's not enough just to tell people that.12

When people say Web 2. Who will? The m. Morale is another reason that it's hard to imagine a language being too succinct is that if you're building something new, you should probably take the organic route. And if it isn't false, it shouldn't be suppressed. Their only hope now is to buy all the best Ajax startups before Google does. Most unpleasant jobs would either get automated or go undone if no one happens to have gotten in trouble for seem harmless now. The quantity of meaning compressed into a small space by algebraic signs, is another circumstance that facilitates the reasonings we are accustomed to carry on by their aid.13 Notice all this time I've been talking about the succinctness of languages, not of individual programs.14 You might find contradictory taboos. There are two routes to that destination: The organic route is more common. But it was also something we'd never considered a computer could be: fabulously well designed.

For example, it is a bad design decision. It seems so convincing when you see statements being attacked as x-ist or y-ic substitute your current values of x and y, whether in 1630 or 2030, that's a sure sign that something is wrong.15 As far as I know, without precedent: Apple is popular at the low end and the high end, but not accurate ones. Surely one had to force oneself to work on them. Bolder investors will now get rewarded with lower prices. Does Web 2.16 But I don't think you can even talk about good or bad design except with reference to some intended user.17 But these words are part of the reason I chose computers.

And if you're ambitious you have to like what you do? If you expressed the same ideas in prose as mathematicians had to do before they evolved succinct notations, they wouldn't be any easier to read, because the paper would grow to the size of a book. What do you do with it? Object-oriented programming generates a lot of popular sites were quite high-handed about it.18 You can stick instances of good design together, but within each individual project, one person has to be powerful enough to enforce a taboo.19 Comparison The first person to write the program in some other way that was shorter. Nearly all of it falls short of the standard, I think, is that a restrictive language is one that isn't succinct enough. The programmers I admire most are not, on the whole, captivated by Java.20 80% of the time we could find at least one good name in a 20 minute office hour slot. When you hear such labels being used, ask why. It seems fitting to us that kids' ideas should be bright and clean. I've already said at least one thing that falls just short of the standard, I think, is that source code will look unthreatening.

Notes

When Harvard kicks undergrads out for doing badly and is doomed anyway.

But having more of it, but if you repair a machine that's broken because a she is very common, to mean the company is Weebly, which allowed banks and savings and loans to buy your kids' way into top colleges by sending them to go to grad school you always feel you should be protected against such tricks will approach.

When Harvard kicks undergrads out for here, since 95% of the growth is valuable, and b when she's nervous, she expresses it by smiling more. There are fields now in which only a sliver of it, and Smartleaf co-founders Mark Nitzberg and Olin Shivers at the network level, and yet it is because those are guaranteed in the case of heirs, professors, politicians, and the ordering system, written in Lisp. An investor who for some reason insists that you wouldn't mind missing, false positives caused by filters will have to replace the actual server in order to provoke a bidding war between 3 pet supply startups for the first type, and their flakiness is indistinguishable from those of dynamic variables were merely optimization advice, and this trick merely forces you to test whether that initial impression holds up.

There were a first—. It's conceivable that the payoff for avoiding tax grows hyperexponentially x/1-x for 0 x 1.

The IBM 704 CPU was about bands. This phenomenon is not the only way to fight back themselves. Why does society foul you? The reason Google seemed a miracle of workmanship.

If anyone wants to invest in your own mind. All you have is so hard on Google. The danger is that it's boring, we used to reply that they think the usual way will prove to us an old-fashioned idea.

In desperation people reach for the explanation of a press hit, but it's not lots of customers is that the founders.

Another advantage of startups that seem promising can usually get enough money from them. According to a super-angels. But it turns out to be low. This would penalize short comments especially, because to translate this program into C they literally had to ask, what you care about Intel and Microsoft, not you.

The original Internet forums were not web sites but Usenet newsgroups. He was off by only about 2%.

Since most VCs are only slightly richer for having these things. There is no longer written in C and Perl. This prospect will make it a function of the rule of thumb, the space of ideas doesn't have to keep their wings folded, as they do.

The relationships between unions and unionized companies can hire a lot of the business, and only one.

But so many still make you take out your anti-immigration people to endure hardships, but countless other startups must have believed since before people were people. So if you have to do, so the number of startups will generally raise large amounts of new inventions until they become well enough known that people working for large settlements earlier, but historical abuses are easier for us, the more important. Which OS? He devoted much of the 1929 crash.

If you want to invest at a 5 million cap, but that it's doubly important for societies to remember and pass on the aspect they see and say that's not art because it is unfair when someone works hard and not others, and post-money valuations of funding rounds are at selling it. Surely it's better if everything just works.

On the way to pressure them to. To paint from life using the same reason parents don't tell the craziest lies about me. The word regressive as applied to tax avoidance.

That can be said to have discovered something intuitively without understanding all its implications. But what they're capable of. SpamCop—. A larger set of good ones.

But let someone else start those startups. In fact, change what it would certainly be less than the previous round.

Investors influence one another indirectly through the buzz that surrounds a hot deal, I didn't. At any given person might have 20 affinities by this standard, and one VC. They'd be interchangeable if markets stood still.

After reading a draft of this desirable company, and configure domain names etc. As a friend who invested in the future as barbaric, but even there people tend to be more precise, and once a hypothesis starts to be about web-based applications greatly to be about web-based applications.

I put it would be reluctant to start software companies constrained in b. Emmett Shear, and instead focus on growth instead of using special euphemisms for lies that seem excusable according to certain somewhat depressing rules many of the big acquisition offers most successful startups get started in Mississippi.

This phenomenon may account for a long thread are rarely seen, so if you're measuring usage you need, maybe you'd start to be, unchanging, but investors can get for 500 today would say that hapless meant unlucky.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #fall #questions #customers #computer #draft #design

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it-will-not-last-the-night · 5 years

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Blegh

In terms of Persona 5 I’d been riding high mostly since P5D. I’d been positive mostly over it because P5D and fan-generated content had been lovely overall and really engaging and enjoyable. It had helped me forget that the main game itself seriously does upset me at times and I have a less than ideal opinion of it.

*Sigh*

Now I’m starting to feel like that again. Both announcements of today have left brought back to mind some of my biggest problems with Persona 5 and the way Atlus writes in general. What are they? A bit of a lesson then in me;

For myself there are three events in Persona 5 that I really REALLY just consider outright despicable. In no order they are; 1) Two homosexual adult males being negatively stereotyped as child molesters targeting Ryuji 2) Ryuji’s friends responding to one of the greatest acts of selflessness in the entire story by physically abusing Ryuji and 3) The Valentine’s Day event making Canon that Akira/Ren is horrible, Sojiro is horrible and that Atlus thinks all the girls are vapid idiots.

‘Magical Valentine’ raises an issue I’ve always had but makes it even more forceful. You see in the game the Valentine’s Event is only ‘optionally’ canon. You can play a canonical run-through and not have it occur. So you can, legitimately, without needing headcanon or fanon, just have your own canon playthrough in which the girls are not vapid idiots. The anime however, now, makes it that, for the Animation, it is canon that Akira/Ren is an awful person and that the girls are vapid idiots. Oh and that Sojiro is just literally the worst like...like he is scum in this event. As bas as Akira/Ren is (and he’s bad in this version!) the bigger problem I think a LOT of people forget about the Valentine’s Harem Route is that it literally casts Sojiro as a Guardian of Futaba who would lie to conceal her boyfriend’s infidelities...even when said infidelities LITERALLY CAUSE FUTABA TO CRY!

So the animation is now making it canon that; 1) Akira/Ren sees no reason he has to be honest or forthright with any females in his life 2) Sojiro holds such low regard for his daughter he will aide Akira/Ren in an ongoing deception and emotional manipulation of her RIGHT AFTER SHE OVERCAME A SUICIDAL PHASE OF HER LIFE and 3) That Ann, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, Takemi, Kawakami, Ohya, Hifumi and Chihaya all fall in love with the exact same person and are literally when confronted with incontervertible evidence of his infedilities not only tricked into instantly accepting that them all bringing him chocolate on Valentine’s Day was a ‘misunderstanding’ but, in the case of the Phantom Thieves members, this has so little impact on them that mere days later they have no reaction.

AKA the ending Valentine’s Harem Route basically says: “Akira/Ren successfully cheated on all the girls in his life, and is free to continue to do so since they are so stupid that they could be convinced to assume it was a ‘misunderstanding’ even under the most blatantly false of pretext,” the ending basically gives carte blanche to say that Akira/Ren will probably keep cheating on the women in his life because, well, they’re so stupid that even if they all end up right in front of him, confessing their love for him to each other’s faces...they somehow think this was a ‘misunderstanding’?

That’s gonna be canon now for the animation. Not ‘optional’ canon, just...just outright canon. Literally everything in the Canon is soured now. Did you like Ren’s bond with Ann in the foregoing episodes? Well bad news; Ren literally is willing to commit to an intimate relationship with her and then emotionally cheat on her with several different women at once. Did you like how Ren played a pivotal role in building Futaba’s character and helping her grow out of her emotional turmoil? Well sucks for you cause Ren is literally willing to lie to this girl’s face and tell her he loves her whilst carrying on behind her back with numerous other women.

It sort of goes without saying that this kinda wrecks P5A completely since, canonically, Akira/Ren is now just an irredeemable asshole and the female characters are reduced to stock harem-style idiot love interests with basically 0 individuality because everyone has to love the Protagonist (self-insert!).

But when you think about it even in the original game...this was a problem. Sure you could choose not to do it...but you could also choose to do it. This means, technically, as far as Atlus’ writing is concerned, canonically Akira/Ren has it in him to be a complete asshole with no respect for women or his friends...and the females in the game are all vapid idiots. That’s technically canon since that’s required for the Valentine’s Route to work.

Oh, also, that Sojiro is the worst. The worst.

The Valentine’s Harem Event, like the Ryuji abusing event post Shido’s Palace. does irrevocable damage to the characters and the content itself, kinda ruining it since for it to be canon...well it means the characters are terrible people or stupid. Why I sort of have to choose to ignore them to actually like the story.

Of course what does all this writing have in common? It’s a JOKE! Haha! Ryuji’s being abused, isn’t this funny? Haha! The girls are all vapid idiots and Joker’s such a chick magnet they have no varying tastes in partner at all! Haha! Gay men want to force Ryuji to undress for them!

Isn’t this funny? I mean, no, of course not. In almost all these cases the ‘humour’ is...someone suffering. A common retort I then see is; it’s not canon, its just for a joke.

But the problem is it is, all, strictly canon. I could definitely understand if these things were packaged as clear ‘not canon’ events.

Here’s an example; the Blazblue game series has ‘joke’ endings which are explicitly not canon but usually feature bizarre or ‘funny’ scenes. One of said scenes is a reoccuring bit in which the protagonist Ragna is made to wear glasses that causes the female cast to all fall in love with him. Putting aside the fact for the moment that, to me, this still isn’t funny since its treating the Mind Rape of the entire female cast as a ‘joke’ the fact remains that it is, however, not canon. The creators make sure that nothing that happens here technically infringes on or diminished the canon character content by making it explicitly non-canon.

Persona 5, both the game and now the Animation, take no such efforts. There are no efforts to make clear that Ryuji being beaten up is a ‘comedic non-canon overreaction’ or that Akira/Ren being a womanizing prick and Sojiro being the WORST are just ‘comedic non-canon skits’ all these are played as explicitly, irrefutably, canon. That is how the characters are, as far as Atlus is concerned. That is their opinions, their beliefs etc.

Is it weird that P5 Dancing has the best, most wholesome, most healthy characterization of the entire Persona 5 Franchise? I suppose maybe the mangas are good to, I must admit I’ve never read any of them since from what I can tell Ryuji is basically ignored in all of them in favour of focus on the girls.

Atlus has a writing problem and that problem is centered I fear on a simple fact; the protagonist is a self-insert who is assumed to be a self-insert for a very specific formula; a young male who sees female characters as things he wishes to collect for himself and wants to feel adored by. Almost all of the major writing problems stem from this; Girls seem exploited or turned into vapid haremettes? Well, obviously, gotta appeal to that ‘chick magnet’ fantasy. Homosexuality is cast as negative or frightning? Well, obviously, the fantasy being appealed to is explicitly heterosexual in nature, everything else is ‘icky’. Other males seem to constantly be the butt of a joke or consistently shown up compared to the protagonist? Naturally since the fantasy is about making the player feel like ‘the man’ and all other men are simply lame by comparison so that the girls will only love the protagonist (the self-insert).

What really bums me out about all of this is that Atlus can write such amazing scenes as Ryuji’s ‘the place I belong is next to you,’ but then in that same game or anime have the Valentine’s Event and the Ship scene. I imagine in part this is due to it being a game first, story second, so they feel there are ‘beats’ that need to be there (the loser must be made fun of, the protagonist must get all the girls) even if, from a storyboarding point of view...it just makes the characters look A) Very inconsistent in personality and attitude (Ren’s infamous standing up for a stranger being assaulted but then instantly refusing to step in to help Ryuji in Shinjuku) or B) Like massive asshats (The entire Valentine’s Event from Ren and Sojiro’s perspectives.

It is just...its sad. I want to like this story because there is legitimately good characters and writing but...in the name of appealing to the lowest common denominator it gets weighted down by stuff which is explicitly canon and makes the characters awful.

It really makes it tough to like it at times.

*Sigh*

At the end of the day I don’t know how to handle this. Accepting its canon makes a lot of people awful or stupid. Headcanoning it away is fine but...then I gotta accept I don’t like Persona 5 per say, I like what I, or other fans, create from Persona 5.

Also can we please just be able to date Ryuji. Please Atlus. We don’t need another female character to be another fangirl for Joker, to be another vapid idiot who can be duped by the WORST Sojiro, please Atlus, please. Please. There are ENOUGH love interests Atlus, please try perhaps instead stop treating women like little toys for a protagonist to effortlessly collect and dupe.

Watching all the Persona 5 Girls (sans Sae) in the Valentine’s Event is painful. They are characters I like, many of them have good writing...and then they are reduced to props to make a player feel “Oh yeah! Such a chick magnet! They all want me! Women are simply a commodity by which I inflate my own sense of self-worth since having multiple of them attracted to me and betrayed by me makes me feel as if this is a positive development and not a negative one!”

And I do mean that seriously. Look at most content or statements around the Valentine’s Event. They frame it positively. The ‘harem’ ending, Joker is such a ‘chick magnet’ and so ‘alpha’ etc. etc.

Terrible emotional betrayal? Deep seated trust issues? Sojiro treating his own daughter like garbage? Ignored because ‘Joker is a PLAYER! WOOO!” And this is overall seen as a positive development.

By now I’ve rambled on ridiculously long but if I must have a conclusion it is thus; Please give us a Female Protagonist who can date the other boys and stop selling this sexist approach where non-protagonist males and all females serve the same purpose; inflating the ego of the player character.

#persona 5 #p5 #persona 5 the animation #p5a #akira kusuru #kusuru akira #ren amamiya #amamiya ren #joker #phantom thieves of heart #phantom thieves #sojiro sakura #sakura sojiro #sojiro

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eisforeidolon · 5 years

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Episode: Nihilism

Then: Michael gloats about how no one spent any time questioning why he previously vamoosed for no reason. It's such a clever gotcha … for the writers to lampshade their own incompetence of making the characters somehow ignore a giant plot hole anyone who isn't permanently concussed questioned endlessly. One I still question, because Michael's “plan” to leave and then arbitrarily come back to break Dean's will … somehow … makes no sense and screws around with angel lore yet again.

Anyway.

Now: I did actually mostly enjoy this episode, aside from a few not-entirely-minor quibbles.

First, I have to say: Wow, the actress who plays Pamela looks almost exactly the same. Also, this is the kind of cameo I actually really love when the show does! It doesn't make death meaningless or have the characters accept a replacement goldfish substitute from an alternate universe as the same person (as creepy as that is). Yet it still allows us to revisit old favorite characters.

I liked the smug – almost gleefully so – way that Jensen played Michael. It actually largely mitigated how easy it was for the rest of the team to capture him for me, which I kind of expected to be annoyed by. He's exactly the kind of villain to monologue instead of just getting on with killing everybody. It also mostly fits that he doesn't take them terribly seriously and so isn't prepared for their alternate holy oil molotov plan. As well as how he's more vaguely interested in examining the cuffs than actually concerned when they do bind him – and not only in light of how he has his own backup plan. There's still the slight hitch that having been in Dean's head, he should realize just how many other villains have gone belly up from not taking the Winchesters seriously? But then, he is exactly the kind of villain that would think he's so far above all of them that he's obviously different – even when them includes an alternate version of himself.

That said, I was not impressed that inexplicably Castiel can no longer see reapers. I swear, he gains and loses more powers on an episode by episode basis ... ffs. Nor did I appreciate that said reaper suddenly was willing to act as a get-out-of-monster-hell free card. Billie and the reapers wouldn't even step in to save their own from being killed in Funeralia (13.19) but now, LOL NON-INTERFERENCE? NEVERMIND! I mean, it just feels so lazy. I give Yockey more credit than a lot of the current lot, and in the end it's partially a season-size pacing problem, but? Imagine if instead they'd stretched this out to another episode and given Sam and the others the time to find a legitimate, clever way out of being trapped, with Michael taunting them all the while. (I could happily watch a couple episodes' worth of just Michael mocking them all, tbh.) Instead, they're cheat-teleported back to the bunker. Heck, Yockey could have just gone with Michael being too smug to have bothered to have sufficient backup monsters! That would work perfectly well, too. I get maybe it was partially meant to bring reapers back to the audience's attention to prime us for the reveal at the end with Billie? And maybe we’re meant to forgive it because the threat from the monsters is still on in the background? But it just doesn't work for me.

Another thing that I actually can forgive because I think it fits with Michael's ego is not having enough imagination to give Dean more than one night at his fantasy bar that repeats over and over again. Even if Cas and Sam hadn't broken in during this episode, Dean had already noticed having deja vu. So on the one hand, it fits how smugly overconfident Michael is, on the other, it really is a stupid plan. I did actually like that Dean's fantasy did still involve killing monsters – since I've always felt like his desire to be out of hunting was more tied to all of the issues with destiny and the apocalypse and all of that manipulation from cosmic forces and weight of the world stuff than the old-school routine of just saving individual people from individual monsters.

Ugh, Maggie. Her being in charge for reasons here really is one of the dumbest things they've sprung on us yet. The only good thing about the whole side meander with the AU!hunters is that I had been cringing at how, once again, I expected the mystically warded bunker to suddenly be just that easy for monsters to waltz into? Yet instead, they actually weren't able to break in without having a turned hunter on the inside. I really did appreciate that!

I'd seen several complaints about saying Dean “thrives” on trauma was annoying and insulting. I kind of get that, especially in light of Ross-Leming's obtuse comment about Dean having antibodies against evil so they never have to deal with him being traumatized? However, while I think perhaps there might have been better ways to phrase it, I think the meaning – that given something he actually knows to fight against, Dean is irrepressible – is clear enough from the context. I did appreciate Sam figured out that's why Dean wouldn't be fighting, because he’d been put in a comfortable fake memory, as well as how he was able to identify which memory was the false one so quickly. I thought it was a nice touch that the music went wonky in the background as Dean remembered what they were saying about Pamela was true. As well as that it was Sam saying their code word that was the final clue slotting into place rather than Castiel's overblown speech. While I can see where it might come off as a rip-off of the Ezekiel thing, I think the situations are sufficiently similar that it only makes sense for them to sort out in a similar way.

Michael's imitation of Castiel was just as funny in context. From what he said to Jack to what he said in Dean's head to Sam and Castiel, I think Michael was telling the truth, or more accurately, a version of the truth. We all have certain nasty thoughts that linger in the back of our heads – resentments, annoyances, uncharitable thoughts – the ugliest version of ourselves. I think Michael was picking and choosing out of that part of Dean to find the things it would hurt the most to say; not thoughts Dean never had, but thoughts that clearly didn't encompass what Dean felt overall. Carefully chosen partial truths without context, specially tailored to hurt those they were aimed at as much as possible that would therefore also make Dean feel guilty, too. If Michael had felt like this much of a character from the beginning... Also, regular world Michael acted like allowing Dean to survive the experience of being possessed intact was some special boon, so this one making a point to say he's going to rip Dean apart on the way out being an additional consideration fits well enough.

While I like a good fight scene as much as anybody, if they're on equal footing because they're all just projections in Dean's head? I actually think it should have been easier for them to take down Michael. Sam, Dean, even Cas? They all have plenty of experience getting their hands dirty in physical fights, whereas we've seen this Michael spend a lot more time actively avoiding them. That, and I did actually find myself kind of mildly annoyed it was Sam and not Dean that was the one to physically shove Michael into the freezer. Yes, the fight was a joint effort, and yes, Dean is the one actually keeping him contained in his mind when it comes down to it. However, with all that we got in the previous episode of Dean really wanting to personally strike back at Michael and how Sam had already played such a major part by figuring out how to get into Dean's head and drag him back to reality? I felt like perhaps it would have been a more powerful moment if Dean had actually done the physical shoving as well. I don’t think it was a big deal or anything, but ... meh.

Likewise pretty ambivalent about all of Michael's monsters just wandering off rather than continuing their attack at the end. I get that they were all supposed to be under some kind of control, but it's just so very convenient. When it's put on top of the teleport home earlier in the episode (and how they're such crappy monsters they couldn't even kill Maggie, dammit) … Again, it didn’t ruin the episode for me, but after Michael was previously shown negotiating with certain monsters or offering them boons, but actually here it’s that he’s controlling them? Michael’s plans and motivations have generally being fairly nebulous and vague all along, so this is just so par for the course I can’t even get that annoyed about it.

Similarly, while I appreciate them trying to tie the invasion of AU!Michael in as the consequences Billie warned Dean would come from universe-hopping? It also seems like a fairly flimsy hand wave. It's better than no attempt at all, leaving it as a hanging thread that was just dropped, but “this whole multi-versal quantum construct we live in, it's like a house of cards and the last thing I need is some big dumb Winchester knocking it all down” seems like it should refer to the potentiality of something a little more colossal than yet another archangel with daddy issues. Maybe that's just me.

As to the end where all the books about Dean's death have changed to have the same ending bar one? Well, by the very concept, all the books can be changed. So, when that one alternative to Michael destroying everything is clearly also awful, it seems the more prudent route to go would be to figure out how to make all the books change again as Plan A rather than going directly for Plan Horrorshow. Not only have the Winchesters made a long-term habit of changing fate, but they've already done it in this specific way once – granted for the worse, but still, it's clearly possible.

I feel like there was something else I meant to address about this one, but I didn’t make a note of it and I actually watched this a couple of days ago and I’m coming up completely blank.

In the end, i feel like what really made me like this episode despite some obvious flaws was Jensen’s portrayal of Michael and the other characters’ reactions to him. Which, honestly, just makes the fact that the season took so long to actually get here and give us something meaty from this storyline feel even less like any kind of reasonable choice.

#spn season 14 #spn 14x10 #negativity for ts

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chocojjk-sideblog · 6 years

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Shocked and Confused (pt 4)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

words: 1.7 k

summary: “the reader is tom’s best friend but he likes zendaya”

(A/N): Hi! I would like to apologize for playing you all during the last chapter, please let me explain myself: That honestly was the original ending that I had planned in my head. I wanted it to be as real as possible and that seemed to be the realest route out there. However, many of you are hopeless romantics as fuck, like myself, and wanted a happy ending so i wrote one. But really, it could go both ways :)

this takes place right after part 3!

i bring you guys, the much awaited happy ending :-) .... or is it???

The clock read 10:18 pm and you wondered what he was doing right now. Is he at home getting ready for bed? Is he still at set, shooting his movie? Or is he out with his friends, having a good time? Is he out with her?

It's hard to be so clueless on what the boy was up to when you used to know his everyday schedule. It was hard to lose someone who you never thought you would lose. I mean? You guys were best friends and it was supposed to stay that way for many more years.

The heavy rain that was now pouring outside was a representation of your sad heart. For once, you were alone - with your thoughts being lost, now more than ever, as you sat there listening to the piercing droplets of water hitting your window.

A loud knock on your door was enough to bring you back to reality. You wondered who it could have been considering that it’s late and your friends would usually text you before coming uninvitedly.

With every step you took towards the door, the knocks also became more ferocious, a sound of desperation can be heard. Looking through your peephole, you saw him. Tom was standing right there, the only thing separating you guys was the wooden door. His orange hoodie clinging to him, and his hair all wet as he shivers and you assumed that he was out in the rain longer than he should have been.

If it was any other day, you wouldn't have opened the door, but as you look at him, desperately struggling to find warmth, you couldn't help but let in the light you have lost.

“What are you doing here?” you say exasperatedly. Instead of answering, he engulfed you in a tight hug, and you realized how cold he felt, his teeth quietly chattering by your ear.

“Come inside,” you say pulling him in, leading him to sit on your couch. You quickly turned, about to make your way to the room that once belonged to Tom, when a hand grips your wrist, holding on to you like it was the last time.

“Don't go, please,” Tom whispers out. You look at him, your eyes softening, “i’ll be back okay, i’m just gonna get you some dry clothes,” you comforted the boy as he slowly lets go of you, a look of uncertainty clear in his eyes.

You quickly make your way to the dresser that held Tom’s clothes, grabbing him one of his dry t-shirts and a pair of grey sweats. As you made your way back to the living room however, he was already standing under the doors archway, intently watching you. You take him in and noticed the tired expression on his face. His eyes that were once full of life were dull and puffy, almost like he had been crying. Bags underneath them and you wondered what has kept the boy from sleeping at night.

“Here, change into this,” you ordered, giving him his clothes as he did what he was told. You’ve seen Tom in his underwear way too many times for it to be awkward, however you still looked away as he was changing, giving him some privacy.

Taking a seat on the cold bed, your back against Tom, you stare out the window, watching the rain fall. Slowly, the other side of the bed sunk and you realized that Tom has taken a seat next to you. Arm to arm, both of you guys just admiring the scenery ahead.

“I’ve missed this,” Tom weakly mumbled. The last time you guys were both in this room was the night that ruined it all and you wondered if tonight will hold similar results. Knowing that you shouldn’t even be talking to him, you remained quiet.

“I’ve missed you,” he continued. You can tell he was looking at you now but you didn't want to act upon it.

He grabs your hand and takes it in his, letting the feeling linger for a second before you pulled away. “Tom, please,” you whispered, “don't do this to me.”

“I’m sorry y/n, but i have to know,” he says softly, before slowly grabbing your face, making you turn to him. He pushes your hair out of your eyes as he slowly leans in, giving you a small kiss. Your eyes opened, you watch the boy, as you let him kiss you. Somehow you were unable to move, captured by his trance. The way his slightly chapped lips quickly brushed on to yours made you feel alive again, but none of this was making sense and you were frustrated.

“I love you,” he whispered, a small smile place upon his lips and that's when you lost it.

“What the fuck are you doing tom?” you snarled as you got up from the bed, looking down at him as he remained seated.

His smile disappearing once he realized what he had done, he tried to explain himself, “I-”

“No! Ok, y-you can't do that!” you yelled, tears welling up in your eyes.

“y/n-” he tries again.

“What are you trying to do? Are you trying to hurt me?” you scoffed, nervously prancing around the room, your hands sweeping through your hair as you tried to calm yourself down.

“No, im -” another failed attempt at trying to talk to you.

“Tom, i asked for one thing, please, stop. This hurts too much.” you sniffled out as tears made its way down your face, “you can't just come back after 2 months and tell me youre in love with me when you made it clear that you were infatuated with her!” you continued as he watched you. His heart breaking at the mess you guys have made.

“What? Did she not like you back!?” you yelled, furious at the actions the boy decided to take.

“No -” he shot back, quickly defending himself.

“So now that you can't have her, y-you're running back to me, because you know! You know i would take you in in a heartbeat,” you accused, interrupting him, your hands waving all over the place.

“y/n, no-” he says, butting in, another attempt to get you to stop talking.

“And here i am doing exactly what you thought i was going to do, god!, i’m so stupid!” you shouted, out of breath, as you shake your head, your hands going up to your hair.

“y/n please -” he cried out, trying to get you to stop, at this point he was crying too, both of you sounding like a broken record.

“You know i tried,” you spoke. “i tried to get over you Tom, i really did. I went on dates, everything,” you revealed, “… but my heart still screams your name -”

“y/n stop,” Tom warned.

Not bothering to wipe your tears, you cried out “I never wanted this! everyday i wonder why it had to be you! Out of everyone, why do i have to be in love with someone who never saw me! I-”

You were rudely interrupted as his lips crashed onto yours, shutting you up. This time the kiss was rough and passionate and this time you kissed him back. Your back hitting the wall as the taste of cherry chapstick and salted tears created a combination that you both craved. Your hands going up to his hair, Tom deepened the kiss. Lips hungrily moving in perfect sync - almost like they were made for each other.

After awhile, you finally pull away, stopping the moment before it can get any further. “This isn't fair Tom,” you let out as you broke down into his shoulders. Tom hugs you tightly, gently rubbing your back to soothe you. Hearing your cries made him realize how badly he has hurt you and he couldn't help but let a couple of tears escape his eyes.

Once your cries started dying down, he broke the silence between you guys, “how the hell did we get this broken?”

You look at him, staring into his eyes. “Why are you here?” you mumbled, asking him the same question for the second time that night.

“Because it's you.” he declared.

“What about Zendaya?” you questioned.

“She's great,” he took a pause, waiting to see if you would cut him off again, but as you remained silent, he continued “but if she was to disappear from my life right now, I could still live.” he professed.

Not knowing where he was going with this, you look up at him nodding for him to go on. “Once i let you walk away from me at the beach, i knew i messed up,” he explained, “i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it,” he continued.

“Realize what?” you asked. You once thought that you had a chance and you didn't want to give yourself the same false expectations. You needed to hear it from him.

“If you leave me, I don't know how much longer I can take it,” he hummed, closing his eyes as he lays his forehead against yours.

“What do you mean?” you whispered, letting out a breath.

“I can't live without you y/n. I’m in love with you” he proclaimed. Tom held your face in his hands like you were the most fragile thing in the world, wiping your tears away as he repeated the actions he had taken during that unforgettable night.

“I love everything about you, the way your forehead crinkles when you're thinking real hard or when you're mad,” slowly he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love your eyes that seems to scream my name,” he continued, kissing away the remaining tears that have escaped your now tired eyes.

“You’re cute nose and the way they scrunch up in distaste,” he added, softly chuckling as he placed a soft kiss on the top of your nose.

Finally, “I love your lips, the only ones in the world that could drive me crazy,” he finished, looking deep in your eyes, as he leaned in placing a sweet kiss upon your lips. Feeling all the emotions that the boy felt for you in that one soft kiss, you knew that this time, it was real.

This was how it was supposed to go. This is what you had imagined in your head. This is what you wanted to happen that night. But life is tricky that way. As the saying goes, you have to lose something in order to truly understand its value. It might have taken a while but after six years and two months, the boy that you have fallen madly in love with has finally found his way to you.

The End

(forreal this time, i don't know what else to do with this)

(a/n): sorry for so many of these but i just wanted to say, it has been so much fun writing this for you guys. Seeing all of your comments fueled me into wanting to continue this story, which originally was supposed to only be a oneshot. To the anon that requested this: thank you so much! and for all of you who read it, from the bottom of my fucking heart, thank you ❤️

my requests are open so dont be afraid to pop in and ask :)

taglist: @itsanonymouschick @stuckychild @i-aint-nobodys--bitch @youcouldneverhurtmeijustfeelyou @weshipandstuff @watch-myheartburn @heyyyyitsanie @meyrapp @vogueworthy-barnes @chem-on @my-babies-are-ash @hollandjmc

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #cbwrites #c.b.#marvel #mcu #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spider-man #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman homecoming #spiderman hoco #spiderman: far from home #spiderman far from home #sac

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punkgemjasper · 6 years

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This is not a fun post...

Seriously. I need to vent some stuff out and it’s going to get pretty heavy. Like, this is purely ramblings from my brain and from someone who is sick of everything in her life, barring say...a few exceptions (my girlfriend, online friends, like 2 friends who don’t do any of the things I’m about to say) I don’t expect anyone to read this, and that isn’t the point. I just want to scream at something that my ‘friends’ and my ‘family’ won’t see because a lot of what I have to say is about them. You’ve been warned if you read what I have to say...

First things first, a little bit about myself. I’m 25, a pansexual lesbian, and I’m butch. I’m a big girl, who’s been struggling with her weight since she was diagnosed with PCOS at the age of 16. I look intimidating, I look strong. I’m pretty much the very stereotypical looking ‘Butch Lesbian’ ...I get confused with a man a LOT. I am also someone who suffers from chronic pain. I have fibromyalgia, an ongoing stomach problem that means I can’t eat properly if at all some days, depression, but the kind of depression that I’ll have for the rest of my life, on top of an anxiety disorder, and anger management problems. It makes me feel like I’m some kind of roadmap of problems. Now, you see, there is an issue with being a butch girl. Can you figure that out? It ties in with a lot of the above problems, I have to appear strong. I have this unwritten obligation to the world that I’m not allowed to show emotions or cry because that would mean I appear weak in the eyes of everyone. It’s a problem that I’m probably not alone on honestly. So can you imagine my struggle when I need some help, a shoulder to cry on that isn’t my girlfriend, because I don’t want to put her through any more of my crying, just a friend who’s there for me. A lot of my friends, they all advocate against suicide, they all preach about going to get help, but when someone they know is actually suffering, they don’t give a shit. The last time I spoke up about my depression, and how badly I was treated by the mental health care team at the hospital you know what I got? My head bitten off for being appalled by the way I was being treated, like the fact I was complaining about the NHS and a supposed ‘mental health worker,’ who only wanted to berate my family, who at the time could not help me, my dad was dying from stage 4 lung and brain cancer, my mum is legally blind, neither of them can drive and I was in no state to be anywhere near trains, let alone travel the 2 hours it takes for me to get back to my parents. Hell, the reason I was at the hospital in the first place was that I was going to find a way to do some serious harm to myself. You know who calmed me down in the end and stopped me? My girlfriend. My mum. An A&E nurse had more empathy and understanding than the actual psychologist they threw at me. Or whenever I speak up, I get ignored, or slapped down and told ‘you’re feelings are not as bad as my feelings,’ constantly, by a lot of people in my life. Like I’m not allowed to feel pain, or depressed or anything. It was meant to be my dad’s birthday yesterday, it was hard, I didn’t bother saying anything about it, not properly, because no one would care. When I did say something, only ONE person actually made sure I was okay, a friend in America who never even knew my dad, do you know how badly I wanted to be with them? Just so I could have that needed support, a drink and a hug? Not a single one of my friends in England gave a fuck. No one thought to just ask if I was doing okay. That’s a running theme and it’s a cycle I have to keep explaining to any professional I end up talking to...I speak up, I get slapped down, so then I don’t speak up so I don’t get slapped down...see how that can damage someone? No one knows just how bad I am because I can’t tell them just how bad I am. Mum knows, she knows just how bad I can become but recently, she just...doesn't care as much as she used to. These days, our conversations just seem to be about her new ‘boyfriend,’ or borrowing money from me. Most of the time it is to help feed the dogs, granted, I love my dogs, even Ludo who isn’t 100% there with trusting me yet, I’d give everything I had for them, but it’s getting to the point of where I want to sit my own mother down and go through her payments like she did with me years ago, it becomes a problem you get jaded to. So I don’t bother to say how bad my depression is because, like the above with my friends, I tend to get ignored, slapped down with the ‘me too’, or worse...told to grow up and stop being dramatic. Something I’ve been told since I was a child and this is what it has done to me. Created an irrational fear of opening up to anyone, so when I do get bad, I explode. I explode in such a way that I hurt myself, end up having to need help from either my GP or the hospital, and then someone finally fucking realises...but even then I get no help. Or at least no the right kind of help, that I keep having to tell them. Being talked to like I’m an idiot when I’m debating if I should throw myself in front of a bus, isn’t fun. The line, ‘Oh you’ll be fine soon, it says in your notes you do this kind of thing a lot,’ will ALWAYS haunt me. That was what someone who was a MENTAL HEALTH CARE NURSE said to me. While I was shouting at him that I didn’t need an ‘autism specialist,’ that my autism isn’t the cause of my suicidal depression, that my years of being bullied, abused and ignored was the cause, but he didn’t give a shit. Kept speaking down to me...yet again. The one who stopped me was my girlfriend. But you see, I don’t cut myself, I don’t overdose, I don’t do any of that...I punch things, I break my knuckles, over and over again. But the frustration builds up and I lash out. It’s scary, I understand that it is, anyone who’s seen my rare selfies, can see why it’s so scary...but they can’t see past that to stop me, from doing it in the first place. ...Except for my girlfriend. (It all keeps coming back round to her, she’s currently the only one I can confidently say, is keeping me from doing something fucking stupid. And I know for a fact she’ll read this, please don’t worry. I know you will. But I’m not going to do anything stupid, I’m not going to hurt myself. I just need to vent and I don’t want to burden you with anything more than I already have...it’s not fair. You’re also suffering from your own problems, and the last thing I was to do is make them worse, or invalidate them with any of this, like the way everyone does to me.) Now, back onto the whole...lack of support. I’m surrounded by people who have the same problems as I do, but whenever they speak up, they get bombarded with help, love and support, but when I do the same...nothing. Not even a message or a ‘here is this nice picture, hope it helps,’ nothing. Hell...I’m even being fucking isolated and almost ostracized from things I used to love doing. I KNOW this for a fact. I’ve been told about RPGs that I have expressed HUGE interest in joining, running without me, and I’m supposed to smile and go ‘haha yeah. Awesome...’ a hobby that once saved my life I’m now starting to hate because of my so-called ‘friends’. I don’t understand why. I have a theory. But I don’t even want to go down that route, because if I do, I’m just going to lose all hope in my friends and just stop giving a fuck. Which is something I don’t want to do.

A big part of my personality is the fact that I enjoy helping people, the look on someone face when I help them, it’s not been uncommon of me to stay up till the light of morning with someone from another country, to make sure they had someone there for them so they didn’t hurt themselves. I wanted to go into counselling to help people like myself. One day, I might still do. I want to. If I stopped giving a shit, that’s when I know something is seriously wrong with me and it’s getting to that point. The point of where I just don’t care anymore. The thought of ‘if you’re not going to help or listen to me, why the fuck should I help and listen to you?’ I feel so done with everyone, however, I’m reaching my limit with just how much I can take and it truly does feel like I’m teetering on a knife-edge. One more thing could tip me off that point and I tumble off. But at the same time, I don’t know what the fuck to do about any of it. Like I said...I’m not allowed to say anything, because it’s either My problems aren’t as bad as their problems I’m just being over dramatic Or How dare I say such things So I’m probably going to slip back into wearing a mask again. A false smile to hide the pain I’m going through each and every fucking day. I could take pills, anti-depressants and the like but the side effects. Oh boy, do I get those. From the feeling even worse to being sexually fucking numb, I get them and I get them BAD and with my current health issues, being my stomach, I don’t really want to risk anything that could make that worse. I’m stuck in a bind. See, there’s another thing that bothers me...I get more support from strangers online, as in people I chat to when I’m not a total mess, on discord, or on here, than I do with people I know outside of the internet. People who only know me as either Zorin or Punk Gem or whatever handle I use, treat me better and actually care more about me than the friends who know me as Lauren. That speaks fucking volumes because I’m no different in my real life than I portray online you know? If anything I’m even shyer! But what the hell is going wrong in my life that people online, in other countries, apparently value me more as a person than those who live 10 minutes away. It wouldn’t have been my dad’s birthday yesterday. He passed away on boxing day, something I’m not over, last year. I said something about it, and you want to know the ONLY person to comment on that? To make sure I was okay, so say ‘I’m here if you need me,’ an American friend. Someone who I’ve only met once, and he never even knew my dad but had a drink to his memory anyway. It was both heartwarming and soul destroying because it’s an eye-opening experience for me. If someone that far away, who has a job, his own life, has the time to just check in on me, then what the fuck is wrong with everyone else? If I say anything about that by the way, it’ll be ‘OH I’m sorry, I didn’t see it!’. Bullshit. I wasn’t quiet about it. It was a huge fucking post pinned to my facebook wall yesterday. Fuck you. You also want to know what I don’t want? Being dragged into family drama that I want no fucking part of. My dad’s side of the family vs my mum. That’s all I’ll hear when I go back home for a weekend, is bitching and moaning about my dad’s family and I just have to smile, nod and agree. I don’t want any part of it, not when my head is already a mess from everything that has happened to me over two fucking years. And once again...can’t talk about that to anyone. So you see, I’m stuck in this cycle. Doomed if I speak up, doomed if I don’t. Thank you, if you bothered to read any of this. I don’t expect anything from this, I just needed to get a lot off of my chest, and this isn’t the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot. A lot of heavier stuff that I’m keeping quiet, because what I have to say, should only be heard by a professional.

#my ramblings #I'm so sorry #i needed to vent #suicide mention #depression talk #it's a long one

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esseastri · 7 years

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Megan Reads Oathbringer (part 7)

blerg, I wanted to hit page 500 in the last chunk o’ liveblog, but alas. We continue on. This book is just too dense, the liveblog posts are too long and I will continue to mention that in every one of these posts, ‘cause it’s wild just how much is in here!

Part 7 encompasses pages 476-557 (previous parts)

OOOOOOOH JASNAH POV!!!!

hey, her art bubble is the old Shallan art bubble. that’s...boring. why doesn’t she get her own?

I’m emotional about Taln forever and ever

Jasnah being paranoid about her safety and assassins and stuffing her ventilation shaft with cloths is...so... You don’t expect Jasnah to be scared, but here she is. It makes perfect sense--she got stabbed through the chest, of course she’s scared--but she’s so poised and in control, you just don’t expect it.

OMG Jasnah had back up files of her notes!!! That’s brilliant.

spanreeds are so cool

do we know which type of spren Ivory is? if we do I don’t remember.

just keep reading, Megan, they’ll tell you. Inkspren. ...of course.

also, I’d been wondering how Jasnah was “broken”--since all the Radiants are--and somehow I never expected childhood illness. that’s a logical breaking point, but I never even thought of it.

THERE WAS A JASNAH AND HOID’S MOST EXCELLENT ADVENTURE!!! THERE WAS!!! I’VE BEEN ROBBED!!!

but also, wtf did she learn, what did she learn from him. I’m guessing it’s the same thing the Stormfather refused to tell Dalinar... about all ten orders returning.

god, I really, really hope that my theory about them replacing the Heralds is wrong. I don’t want that. ..

(It’s a good theory though; the first new members of the ten orders all make a new Oathpact at the end of the fifth book. the back five are about their first time breaking and the first Desolation post-this one. It’s awful and I don’t want it, but you gotta admit, it’s an interesting theory, at least in a meta way.)

also I’m sad no one likes the honorspren. Syl is such a good. then again, she’s different than her peeps, she always says.

gaahhh, the Moash chapters are killing me every time I see that patchless shoulder I just die a lil bit inside

“Compared to bridge duty, this was paradise.” I’M CRYING??? This is so, so much the ‘I did that, so I can survive anything’ mentality and I’m cry.

okay, but can all of the Fused use all of the Surges? or do they all do different things? Do they have the equivalent of radiant orders?

(I’m going to be so excited if Moash gets a spren, but I feel like he maybe has to take responsibility for his actions first...)

aaahh Moash is taking the Kaladin route of “I don’t care about these people but storm it, I’m helping them anyway”.

OH SHIT Those are the ones who Kaladin helped, aren’t they... they brought “a false god” that was Kaladin shit shit shit they are getting punished for him. He would die if he knew, oh god.

AAAHH MOASH IS A GOOD “You’re becoming like us” Ohhhh goooddd yep. yep. wow. Be better. Do better. The theme of this book, and I love it. I LOVE MOASH AAHHH

punk!Dalinar not being allowed to fight is wild.

OOOHH THEY DIDN’T TELL HIM HE’S BEEN HURTING PEOPLE?? WHY!!!!?? YOU GOTTA TELL HIM HE’S DESTROYING PEOPLE’S LIVES BY BEING A BLACKOUT DRUNK AND FIGHTING PEOPLE

THAT’S NOT A GOOD THING AND HE SHOULD KNOW THAT

his name means “born unto light” oh my god that’s delightful oh my god

ohno. you should not send Dalinar back to war, u should keep him at home and maybe find him a therapist to talk to him about the Thrill...

FLYING KHOLINS AHOY!!

“something profoundly disconcerting about being out on the ocean” disconcerting? You’ve misspelled exciting.

They are holding hands while flying that’s adorable

I love that it’s “Elhokar’s team” when we all know Kaladin will end up in charge, much to Adolin’s chagrin...

No comment on what Dalinar’s hair looks like all windswept, obviously that means he’s been windswept into full greaser-style pompadour.

“shellheads” really? wtf. you didn’t call them that before. it’s only after they gain sentience that you give them derogatory nicknames?

High King Dalinar founding his own kingdom is wild to think about...

All of Navani’s scribes and engineers are so excitable. I love it.

Dalinar sneaking about without guards is nervewracking. Pls be safe, buddy.

“what else were important lighteyes going to do with unmotivated children?” Uuh...motivate them? Don’t just throw them aside to the church and expect them to drain resources by doing nothing for the rest of their lives? Find some way for them to be productive members of society? Why is this such a hard concept?

Fucking lighteyes

“He was RURAL Alethi he CAN’T be a HERALD” fuck off, Kadash. Kaladin is from a backwater and he’s a Radiant. And Taln wasn’t a king. We know this.

“No spiritual basis for rule” seems like a good thing to me...separation fo church and state and all that...

Something I’m not surprised that Vorinism sucks ass at caring for the mentally ill...

Yeah, ok, but who cut Taln’s wall from the outside? one of the other Heralds? Someone who still has their honorblade? Or some...Diagram/Ghostblood/SonofHonor mofo who realized before we did that Taln is a Herald? I’M CONCERNED FOR MY ANCIENT BROKEN SON

“Lately, he didn’t much like himself.” Noooooo, Moaaaashhh!! I still like you! A lot!!!

I am absolutely delighted that the Fused point their toes when they are flying. My synchronized swimming ass is just...DELIGHTED

“You don’t farm an apocalypse.” heheheh

The tavern is called the Fallen Tower? really? Dalinar’s army fell at the Tower... and Bridge Four saved them. really.

omg noooo noooooooooo no

nooo

nooooooooo

that’s

a lumberyard. and

ladderruns. that’s the same damn thing oh god

no, I don’t want this.

Let Moash Live 2k17

There’s a weird trend of swapping PoVs in the middle of a chapter. I’m not used to it.

“They acted like they owned her already.” I mean...they kinda do, Shallan. You kinda fucked up with them.

“without her having to remain at the meeting” hon, you are needed at the meetings for reasons other than your mapmaking skills??

“I am my own woman” teeeechnically, you’re...what, Taravangian’s subject now? Right, he’s in charge of Vedenar.

Evi deserves better than punk!Dalinar. Him yelling at her because she invaded his manly man-space is gross and he should stop

Navani just chilling with Evi and Ialai is wild. I legit can’t imagine them all getting along.

Also, I love that Renarin’s name is just a name. I love the convoluted meaning of nothing. it’s great.

Evi is a Good and she! deserves! better!

oh god babies

tiny, tiny babies

Evil flying chulls!! Tiny Adolin is too cute oh god

Just writing down that page 519 is the glyph alphabet. That’s important, you know. :)

NanKhet’s list of assassination attempts and then his like... banquet of executions. is some Greek mythology shit up in here. That’s #yikes

Pastry chef scholar man! I love it! I love that there aRE people in Vorin lands who don’t adhere to Vorinism’s gender roles, people who think gender roles are for squares.

Hello Darkness My Old Friend has waaay too many names. Nakku, Nalan, Nale. This is why I just still call him Hello Darkness.

“Did you misplace her?” One does not simply misplace Lift.

They keep talking about how Thaylen City was super wrecked by the Everstorm and that’s fair, but like...has anyone heard from Shin? Talk about being unprotected for a wrong-way highstorm...

Jasnah reflexively sucking in Stormlight the second Amaram appears in the doorway is Big Mood.

“Other than the fact that you are a detestable buffoon who acheives only the lowest level of mediocrity, as it is the best your limited mind can imagine? I can’t possibly think of a reason.” GOD FUCKING BLESS.

“Give me an excuse. I dare you.” BIGGEST MOOD EVER OH MY GOD

yeah, you run away. fucker.

“The Windrunner” “the flying bridgeman” “brightlord broodingeyes” HE HAS A NAME, LADIES. He has a name.

I’m super tired of everyone--especially Jasnah--underestimating and disregarding Renarin.

And then he goes and does COOL SHIT LIKE FIND THE RESONATING LIBRARY!!!!??

Also, Jasnah can infuse gems with light? wacky fun.

oohh LIghtweaving isn’t just light it’s “and various waveforms” Renarin’s LIghtweaving is super different from Shallan’s isn’t it!!? I can’t want to see MOAR SURGES

Nooooo, Moash.... you gotta do the Kaladin thing! You can’t let go! Look at you, you are already helping the people he helped. You can’t stop yourself any more than he could. You’re not here to let go. You’re here to remember how to care.

Moash bby, I know you are prone to stupid decisions, but please...please don’t do anything stupid...

.........like that.

okay, creepy flying in charge lady. is creepy.

Okay, teaching the parshmen how to spear is good? sort of? from a certain point of view.

Ooooh Rlain pov!!! That’s new and interesting.

you know why is he here? How did he not get eaten by the first Everstorm?

HECK YE ALL FIVE LADY SCOUT WINDRUNNER SQUIRES HEEECKKK YYESSSSS

THEMS MY GIRLS

“He loved them because they did try.” Aaaahhhhh

“That’s like...extra manly.” I’m not sure that’s how being gay works, but I’ma roll with it. :D

“I guess it’s just a thing men say. Can you tell me how it feels?” “I can try.” KALADIN IS A GOOD WHO IS TRYING VERY HARD AND RLAIN IS ALSO A GOOD WHO IS TRYING VERY HARD AND I’M EMOTIONAL

I am so glad they are Trying Together.

That is an interesting question...did the magic stagnate them? stop people from being interested in finding non-magic ways of doing things? not just steel, but like...idk, indoor plumbing and better ways of farming, or anything that a Soulcaster can do. Why would you need better ways when you have the magic way?

It’s a very Harry Potter Wizard Wolrd mentality, tbh.

Oh shit, the Recreance was 2k years AFTER the Heralds bugged out and broke the Oathpact? That’s a long time for them to keep going without their leaders? and then to suddenly stop after all that time? whyyyy

what did they learn? about their spren? Jasnah knows.

Oh no!!!

nooo

he can hear the spren dying!!!???? OH NOOO

OH SNAP

WHAT

UM??? WHAT

THE FUCK?

HOW DID HE HACK DALINAR’S VISION?? WHERE DID HE COME FROM? HOW DID HE GET HERE? HOW DANGEROUS IS HE IN THIS FORM? HOW IS HE HERE?

WHAT

HAPPENING

god, how many times did Dalinar rely on the Thrill? that’s got to leave some kind of bond, some connection. Something Odium can exploit.

God, it’s still really weird to think of Odium--the bad guy--as light, gold, white. it’s refreshing, but also wtf

Ah, fuck off, you’re not a god. The Shardholders are not gods. They’re just dudes with extra powerful magic. Ask Sazed.

God, okay, the STormfather is so. scared. wtf.

Oooohh, he hasn’t gotten Cultivation yet. She’s hidden and he’s bound--not very well if he’s here now, but still.

Can she help us?

Why does he...have to kill people? Is it because he’s the avatar of hatred of something else?

...interesting. Passion.

..........interesting that the Thaylens worship the Passions.

Also, I resent that if he’s All Sorts of Emotion/Passion, there’s the implication that all emotion eventually leads to violence, and I RESENT THAT SO HARD

oh snap, Cultivation is the Nightwatcher? What? I did not expect that...

goes further to the None of the Three Shards Are Good or Bad

though Odium might be lying...

what the shit

was that the Odium hell planet?

Did....did Lift just... scare him away?

I’m increaingly thinking shes got a bit of Cultivation in her. She’s not just a kiddo, and not just a Radiant, there’s something funky going on with her, and I think it’s something powerful enough to scare Odium.. hm...

EEEEYYYYY END PART TWO!!!!!

eww gross, Taravangian AND Venli? Bad interludes are bad. Where’s Szeth? I miss him.

#op #Megan reads OB #Oathbringer spoilers #I was sick so I missed a few days of reading whoops #and then I was on a plane #and as we all know from previous experience some of my best liveblogging is done on planes :D #Stormlight Archive #Oathbringer #Brandon Sanderson

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thekillerssluts · 7 years

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Arcade Fire’s Win Butler Responds to Criticism of the Band’s Much-Maligned, ‘Misunderstood’ Everything Now Rollout

Ever since Arcade Fire roared out of Montreal in 2004 with the release of its instant-classic debut album, Funeral, the band has built a critically and popularly successful career as purveyors of emotionally earnest, musically galvanizing rock. So it struck some observers as a little discordant when, in advance of its recent Everything Now album, the band undertook a decidedly un-earnest prerelease campaign, flooding the internet for a brief time with, among other things, satirical music criticism, bogus marketing tie-ins, and fake-news stories.

The critical response to the campaign was not kind, and the album, too, was met with some of the toughest reviews of the band’s career. Front man Win Butler has suggested that skeptical critics — of both the promotional high jinks and the album itself — may be missing the point. For the first time in its career, a band with an undeniable gift for connection seems, both intentionally and not, to have crossed a lot of wires. Speaking from the tour bus on the way to a concert in Boston, Butler explained the thinking behind the Everything Now campaign, and his reaction to what he sees as the confusion surrounding the album.

I’ve seen you refer to the Everything Now campaign as an “experiment.” So what was the purpose of that experiment? And now from the vantage point of seeing the album out in the world for a few weeks, do you think the experiment was successful? A big question for us was “How do you release a record post–Donald Trump?” Since we were making a record called Everything Now, and it would be coming out after that election, it felt like a real moment to try and address subjects like fake news and how the media works. The other part of it is that when you make a record in this modern context, it instantly gets refracted in the media. There’s all this side content, this trail that follows everything. So we thought that maybe we’d just make all that content, as opposed to just making the art. That stuff was going to get made anyway, so why not make it ourselves?

Those are sort of more practical explanations. What ideas and theories were you testing? It’s a little bit like when you go to the doctor and they put dye in your bloodstream — we just wanted to see where fake-news articles about the band would go. The media is built for clicks now, and we were trying to see firsthand how it all works. I feel like I now understand on a much deeper level why Trump got elected. Negativity is what travels. So we learned more about how the internet functions, and how it’s an insane feedback loop. It’s like, we just played a show in London that was one of the best shows we’ve ever played there. It was honestly so fucking exciting. And at the show we sold a T-shirt where we put an ironic Everything Now logo on top of Kylie Jenner’s face. It was visually punk as hell. We knew doing that would get a lot of press pickup but every single news outlet in the world covered it. Somehow there’s a story in that, but there’s not really a story in Band Is Really Amazing at Music and Plays a Live Show and People Cry Because It’s So Beautiful. So it was really interesting to us to see what got picked up about Arcade Fire. That idea plays into what we were doing as well: We were providing the ammunition for people who wanted to write negative things about the band: Here you go! Here’s something to be outraged about!

Is it possible, just on a personal level, that you give too much emotional weight to negative coverage of the band? What you just said about providing ammunition makes it seem like Everything Now was being released with a preemptive feeling of defensiveness. But I think it’s fair to say that, on balance, Arcade Fire have been hugely successful with critics and audiences. I understand that criticism. The success we’ve had is one in a million. But there’s an overall level of meanness online — I think it was worth pointing out the disingenuousness of that stuff. I remember when Lana Del Rey played Saturday Night Live. Say what you will about her, but she’s a real fucking artist, and the media reaction to that performance was like people were trying to ruin her career. Did they really want to ruin this person? Or did that stance play better online? Like I said, so much of it seems very disingenuous. And I’m not just talking shit about music journalists now. I know how lucky the band has been. But publications are tightening their belts and people have to churn out more stuff, and the media landscape has changed — it’s turned into a fucking meat grinder. The Everything Now campaign was happening in the context of all that and coming out of an election where we essentially elected Mussolini as president of the United States. It would’ve been hard for us to just be like, “So this is our new record!” I wouldn’t know how to not try and address what’s going on in the world.

Did the marketing campaign negatively color how people heard the new music? I don’t know. I think some things were misunderstood. From my perspective, the album is musically one of the best things we’ve ever done. It’s also one of the most earnest. People have called it a cynical record, but I don’t think any honest attempt to listen to the music really supports that reading. So it’s hard for me to square that with the negative reception —which hasn’t been the case in Europe, where they took the campaign much differently. Obviously the French are not going to have as much of a problem understanding a meta news campaign; you don’t have to explain any of this to a French journalist. Everything we’ve done has been pretty obvious if you read past the headlines of the stories, which is something else we’ve learned people don’t really do. The other reality of it, for me, is that fans are enjoying the album and listening to it. So again, it’s hard to square what’s been written about Everything Now with my experience of Everything Now.

I can’t imagine there was a lot of backslapping and handshaking after you guys saw that fake-news stories you put out were picked up as real. Has it been at all emotionally satisfying to test your idea that the media is broken? It wasn’t triumphant, but these aren’t exactly triumphant times. We’re not in a particularly feel-good mood. It’s extremely dire and extremely dark right now. When things are this shitty, sometimes nihilism is a good response. It’s like the punk-rock movement in the U.K.— the Sex Pistols cursing on TV. It’s not overtly political, but in the context of the politics of those times, it’s just “fuck this fucking shit.” We weren’t excited about making people feel weird. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a valid thing to do.

It seems like you have a clear sense of your intentions for the Everything Now campaign. Does other people’s being less clear suggest that maybe the band’s execution wasn’t as sharp as it could’ve been? Or that maybe the tone was coming off more snide than you’d hoped? Maybe there was a certain amount of naïveté on our behalf about how things would be received. I guess at the very core of it, we were hoping that, at least among our fans, we could contribute to a conversation about thinking about what you read, not taking things at face value, critical thinking. Maybe certain parts of that got away from us.

Like what? The thing that really got away from us in the most fascinating way was when we played a show in Brooklyn. There was this kind of big story about how we demanded there be a dress code, which was completely false and was something that could’ve been corroborated by a simple phone call or email to our publicist. But instead of that, there was this sea of outrage: “How dare they do this!” There was even an article written in Canada slagging the band about the dress code after it was clear that we had nothing to do with any dress code. A journalist writing about something after it was proven fake was not something we’d anticipated happening. But I can’t say I was surprised, because that’s where the culture’s at now. Fake news becomes something that real news has to respond to. It’s totally insane. From my perspective though, the Everything Now fake-news campaign lasted about a week and a half, and let a lot of people know that there was a new Arcade Fire album coming out. So I’m not really sweating a lot of this.

Does the response to the campaign — and what I imagine was the difficulty of putting it together — make you at all want to go the Radiohead route and basically just let the music do all the talking from now on? We only did something like five interviews for Reflektor. This is by far the longest interview I’ve given for this album.

Maybe you didn’t give a lot of interviews for Reflektor, but you promoted it with a special on network TV. The band wasn’t exactly shy about letting people know it had an album out. But the thing is, it’s bad to me when a record comes out and people are like, “Oh my god the new Radiohead record! Yes!” — then it’s gone the next day. It might as well not have existed. Remember when Radiohead played the MTV Beach House for Pablo Honey? You watch that video and you can tell the band was in hell. That was some stupid-ass shit, but you know what? That’s where I learned about Radiohead. They suffered through that, but they did it because they wanted people to hear their music. Before OK Computer, they toured the U.S. opening for Alanis Morrissette — most British bands weren’t doing stuff like that, but Radiohead wanted Americans to know about their music. Now, 20 years later, they’re still here. We want people to hear our music too. I don’t think we’d go out and open for Taylor Swift, but we want people to hear our music, too.

Would you have done anything differently with the rollout? Or put another way, has any of the critical feedback you’ve gotten rang true? Any criticism anybody else has had of the band — I’ve already had my own way, way harsher criticisms. Honestly, we’re talking about two weeks in the lifespan of this album. You listen to some of the albums Leonard Cohen made in the ’80s, and they have cheesiest-sounding keyboards, but those are such essential records. They’ve stood the test of time. If the songs are good enough and interesting enough, the music lasts. Time will tell if Everything Now holds up — everything else is ephemeral. And if ultimately the biggest regret of my career is that some people think maybe we made a misstep with an album rollout, I can certainly live with that.

#Arcade Fire #Win Butler #interview #Everything Now

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fableweaver · 4 years

Text

Arc of the Masked Queen

Seth stood along one wall of the drawing room, a servant once more invisible to the greater lord. This time however those he was serving were not all lords. Han and Sein sat in their parlor with five other men, merchants all. They wore the berets of their profession along with the badge in the hat. Other than their hats they had little else in common.

Master Gregory Mills was the head of the miller’s guild. A fat Regarian with a brush mustache, he was dressed in fine satins and silks. His watery eyes darted from face to face, a man trying to find level ground before he made up his mind.

Master Harlan Smith was the Regarian in charge of the blacksmith’s guild. Besides iron, he dealt in silver and gold as well, making him a fairly wealthy man. He was calmer in his demeanor, and less indulgent in food than some Regarians.

Master Quill Rhode was of mixed decent, he was Regarian mostly but a hint of Rhodin blood was telling by the vertical pupils he bore. Head of the wagoner’s guild this man controlled all the legitimate trade through all the nine kingdoms. He was lean, verging on elderly, and had a constant frown.

Master Grant Toll was an old Regarian withered as a prune, eyes as sharp as needles. Head of the slave trade he was the least popular here yet he didn’t seem to care. He sat with legs crossed and wrists crossed over his knees his hands hanging limp as he watched the others.

Master Harris Wells was head of both the mason and carpentry guilds. A Regarian in his prime, he sat straight glaring around at those around him. He had married a minor Baron’s daughter which had led him to believe he was nearly royalty.

The silence in the room was stone cold, having lasted a good portion of time now. Lady Sein sat sipping tea as if Wells had not just insulted her husband.

“A traitor am I?” Han said at last.

“I will not repeat myself,” Wells said. “Mills invited me here but for the life of me I can’t imagine why.”

“I thought you would be interested Wells,” Mills answered his chin quivering. “This is a chance at becoming a true Count or maybe even a Duke.”

“Bullshit,” Wells growled. “These are nothing but false promises that will see us hang.”

“I assure you Master Wells that it is not the case,” Han said smoothly. “Once Loe has taken over, and he will gain the throne I can assure you that, there will be a need for new lords once the heads start rolling.”

“This isn’t Lir Han,” Wells said. “I know your histories well. Even before Loe, titles tended to swap families and cues happened all the time. How old is your house?”

Han sneered at the man, Seth knowing his great grandfather had founded the Han house after a clan war. His great grandfather had been a brigand and a bastard of a lesser lord, rising up and seizing power by killing a Duke.

“That is our point Master Wells,” Sein said smoothly. “My husband’s great grandfather managed to pave his own way to a lordship, so can you.”

“As I said this isn’t Lir,” Wells said. “It doesn’t work like that in Regis. The families here are old, they always have been and always will be. If you don’t bear the blood no matter who you kill you will not be noble. One could slaughter an entire house and take their title, the other lords will not recognize them.”

“Then we kill all those lords,” Han answered and Wells’ head snapped back like he had been struck.

“You will have to kill every noble of the Regarian houses down to the last petty Baron to accomplish that,” Wells said breathlessly. “And I will not be a part of that.”

He stood then and Han’s eyes went to Seth. He nodded and stepped forward, drawing a dagger. Wells turned just in time to catch the blade across his throat, blood arching and spraying from his neck. He collapsed with a strangled gurgle, the other merchants staring in blank shock. Sein, covered in blood, simply reached for her cup and took another sip of tea.

“It seems Master Wells has had a terrible accident,” Han said. “How tragic. Now let us return to our discussion.”

Seth watched the other lords, Mills was white as dough, Smith finally looked shaken, Rhode looked angry but wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Toll looked mildly amused.

“What you need from us is gold is it not?” Toll said. “With enough money you can place bribes where you need and control more of the Kingdoms. Am I right in my assessment?”

“We need to turn some of the nobles over to our side,” Han answered. “With your gold we can do that, and with enough on our side we can kill those against us. You will be rewarded with titles and land, the prestige you deserve.”

Mills and Smith looked pleased, Rhode withdrawn, and Toll shrewd.

“This like any other is a business offer Lord Han,” Toll said. “Just like any other. You try to sell me something and I try to bargain. But so far you have yet to offer me anything I want.”

“A title…”

“I am not interested in titles,” Toll said. “These buffoons may be and they will probably succeed given how voracious Loe is and stupid our king is. Given the death of Sherah I honestly see little hope for Regis keeping the throne beyond a year. I see which way the wind is turning I assure you, but the change in regime will not affect me and I have little interest in the coin you are offering.”

Han looked baffled and angry, making eye contact with Seth. But Seth looked away to Sein, who was still calmly sipping her tea. She put her cup down with a slight intention clink and Toll turned to her.

“You are right Master Toll we offer poor compensation for your investment,” Sein said. “We offer this instead, demand.”

“Demand milady?” Toll said, a smile drawing on his lips.

“The Orcs have a particular taste for human flesh,” Sein said. “Seeing as you are a purveyor of such commodities, you would profit greatly from a direct contract with King Loe.”

“Does Lir not have a prevalent slave trade?” Toll asked. “I get most of my product from Lir after all, why would Loe agree to such a contract given he has a great deal of Lirian contracts on his doorstep.”

“Because you are the head of the trade here Master Toll,” Sein said. “There are many traders of slaves in Lir, not one has more power than another. It makes for a rather messy process dealing with so many suppliers. King Loe would much prefer to deal with only one man, perhaps entailing him with the sole control of the entire industry.”

Toll’s eyes gleamed and he licked his lips, Seth had seen a similar look on many men when they watched naked women.

“As I understand it King Loe has a predilection to young girls,” Toll said. “I myself am a coinsure, perhaps we do have something enough in common.”

Sein didn’t react at all while Han’s eyes took on a distant look.

“In fact as I understand is not one of your daughters his wife?” Toll asked leaning forward. “I prefer my girls a bit older, as I understand you have another daughter correct.”

Seth watched as Sein smiled flawlessly, and nod to Toll.

“She would be honored milord to be your wife,” Sein said.

“Oh I was not looking for one Lady Sein,” Toll said. “I simply was looking for a companion. But if you are not willing to lend me your daughter then I feel I do not think I can lend my aid to your cause.”

He started to stand and Han cast Seth another glare. Seth however did not move to stop Toll, Wells was one fish they could kill but Toll was one they needed on the hook. Sein saw this too as she set down her cup and stood.

“Master Toll,” Sein said and Toll turned to her eyebrows raised. “I will send my daughter to your residence tonight.”

“And in the morning I will grant you access to my accounts,” Toll said with a smile. “I will also draw up a contract for exclusive control of the slave trade and dealings with the Orcs. It is a pleasure doing business with you.”

He turned and left, Sein sitting down looking broken. Han slammed his fist down on the table making the other three merchants flinch.

“I trust no more negotiation is in order,” Han said his voice rasping. “Or are there more demands from you?”

Mills shook his head vigorously, his fat flying about like jelly. Smith shook his head grimly, jaws clenched. Rhode sat mute, eyes closed as if unable to even look at Sein.

“Very well, I expect access to your accounts and cooperation in our plans,” Han said viciously. “Rhode.”

The man flinched and opened his eyes, his vertical pupils shrunken to slits.

“You have the eyes of the Rhodin,” Han said.

“I was long since disowned,” Rhode answered softly.

“And you resent that?” Han said and Rhode nodded tightly. “Good. You will share all the secrets of the Rhodin, their routes, hideouts, and messages. This knowledge will be passed onto the Orcs so they may hunt.”

Seth watched Rhode struggle with this, the merchant’s eyes flicking over to Seth with fear. His eyes only held on him for a second and Seth wondered what he saw in him to make his face drain of color.

“Yes milord,” Rhode said in a strangled voice.

“Good,” Han said. “You are all dismissed.”

The merchants stood quickly and all left, scurrying away. Seth looked to Han and Sein to see they both looking away.

“You may go as well Hollow,” Han said and Seth bowed to them before leaving. He left Han’s quarters, going through the palace by the main halls. The palace was now deadly silent, a heavy mood settled over the nobles of court. Servants walked the halls quickly, no longer lingering where they could they sought to get their tasks done and hide. The nobles walked about as if lost or on their guard with hands resting near weapons both hidden and open.

The funeral for the queen and been brief, the story that Pricilla had been sent away for safety swallowed easily by most of the courtiers. Elrik seemed the same as always, more interested in torturing prisoners than finding his sister. Weather or not he was buying their ruse no one really knew with him, he would lash out wildly when it suited him.

Seth went through the halls unmarked, staying to the side to observe those he passed. It was the servants he was looking at more than the nobles however. He looked for signs of strength rather than weakness, signs of malcontent that could be stirred into a firestorm of rebellion. All he saw was fear, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Corner a mouse and it would fight back.

It was up to Seth to set the spark that sent the mob running. It didn’t help that the servants were probably more afraid of him than anyone else.

He arrived at the women’s wing and passed the guard there; he was never stopped or questioned thanks to Lucia’s orders. He arrived in her rooms to find her in the nursery rocking her child in her arms. She glanced at him and then back to the baby in her arms, her attention all on the child. Seth watched her, memorizing the scene for when he touched her and could feel again. It would be a sight that would keep him sane, a bright memory of life to shield him against the darker flood. He felt nothing looking at her now, just the analyzing knowledge that he would need this later. Like a magpie with a coin he stored away the radiant look on her face.

“I wish I could feed her,” she said softly.

“Do it then,” Seth said. “Fuck Elrik.”

“I can’t, I’ve already taken Epsom salts,” Lucia said sorrowfully. “And I have my breasts bound.”

Seth went over to her and gently grasped one of her breasts. She gasped in pain and he felt a twinge of pain himself for causing her pain. He quickly withdrew to both relieve her and return to his numb state.

He looked down and met eyes with Colette. The baby looked up at him with deep blue eyes, her little tongue sticking out of her mouth. Seeing him looking at her Colette smiled brightly, pink gums on full display.

“She’s a very happy baby,” Lucia said warmly, tickling her daughter’s cheek making her giggle gleefully. Seth remembered another baby he’d seen, roasting over a fire for an Orc’s dinner. He felt nothing at the memory and took a step away from Lucia who looked up at him concerned.

“What is it?” she said reaching towards him and he stepped away faster.

“No, I don’t want to feel right now Lucia,” he said turning away before he could see the look on her face. “I should go.”

“Seth wait,” Lucia said and he did despite wanting to leave. “Why did you come here?”

“I don’t know,” Seth answered, his feet having lead him here.

“You came here to feel Seth,” Lucia said. “I’m here for you, let me hold you.”

Seth simply nodded and Lucia walked around to face him. She stepped up right in front of him, putting her hand on his neck. He felt emotions return, senses humming across his skin as she leaned close.

“Here,” Lucia said softly and Seth realized she was passing him Colette. Carefully he took her into his arms, feeling her tiny weight settle into the crook of his elbow. She burped and waved her fist up at him, smiling without concern. She was only a month old now, yet was growing well. Seth looked down at her, his vision blurring with tears as they fell down onto the baby in his arms.

All his life he loved animals, their life gave meaning to him and saved him from the death that had always been at his fingertips. He leaned down and kissed Colette on her head, her downy hair soft against his lips. She laughed and the sound made his knees buckle. Lucia guided him to the floor and pulled his head to her chest. He leaned against her to weep out his pain, her fingers gently stroking his hair.

This had not been the first time he had come to her and broken into tears, it would probably never be the last. It was his only release, solace, and relief. Eventually his tears stopped and he rested against her, his head resting on her shoulder to look down at Colette in her arms. He reached out to her and she reached out to grasp his finger in her little fist and bring it to her mouth.

“Do you hate her?” Lucia asked and Seth looked up at her startled.

“No, never,” Seth answered meeting her eyes. “Why would you ask that?”

“She isn’t yours,” Lucia answered. “She’s Elrik’s.”

“As if blood matters,” Seth said. “And after all I have been through something so trivial doesn’t matter. I love you, and I love her because she is yours. Do you love her even though she is Elrik’s?”

“Yes,” Lucia answered looking down at Colette. “My mother hit me because my father hit her. I had always thought I’d end up the same, but somehow I could never imagine raising my hand to Colette.”

“Probably because you don’t have to change her diaper or feed her in the middle of the night,” Seth said and Lucia looked at him wryly.

“True, there have been plenty of times I can’t imagine returning to squalor,” Lucia said. “My mother certainly didn’t have it easy, I never said I didn’t understand why she did what she did. I just assumed that my path would be the same.”

“I never once let myself believe I would follow my parents,” Seth said. “I always wanted something more. And here we are.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to follow them,” Lucia admitted, “Just that I could never imagine anything beyond that path.”

Seth nodded, understanding that sentiment. While he had wanted to get away from his life as a child he certainly never planned anything or what happened with his life until now. It seemed like life was little more than reacting to events and scrambling to try to keep your meager existence together.

“Colette will have better,” Lucia said.

“Will she?” Seth asked and Lucia looked up at him with wide eyes. “She is technically a bastard, if anyone found out you know Elrik would kill her.”

“Then no one will find out,” Lucia said with steel in her voice, her glare daring him to disagree. “She is a princess all the same, a better life than I could give her.”

“Really?” Seth asked. “Fat lot good being a princess did for Jeanne.”

He regretted his words instantly at the look of hurt in her eyes. She withdrew, leaving him to sit in front of her with numbness creeping in. He leaned back to her and embraced her not only to bring back his sensation but to hold her.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Please don’t pull away.”

She sighed and leaned closer again melting back into his arms.

“You’re right though,” Lucia said softly. “Colette won’t ever be safe. Especially…”

She trailed off unable to voice her pledge to give her one day to Loe.

“I’ll kill Loe before that happens,” Seth said reassuringly. “And I’ll do all I can to protect Colette and you.”

She simply nodded either accepting what he said or not wanting to point out reality. Seth rested his head on her shoulder again and they just sat together, Colette in Lucia’s arms. They rested like that in silence for what felt like hours, but Seth knew to be only a half an hour. He stood reluctantly to go Lucia rising as well to put Colette in her bassinette.

He had no parting words for her now that he was numb again, and she seemed kept to her mind so he left in silence. Once again going out into the palace he went to his daily duties. His job seemed to finish rapidly, and night came to Cair Leone. Night was went Seth’s other duties were enacted, once again he was the assassin. Lesser nobles and merchants of power were being whittled away at a rate that was starting to draw the attention of those higher up on the food chain.

Seth, dressed once again in his dark silks and mask from Lir, left the palace through Cair Leone to Whore’s Ward. The ward was lively as ever at this time of night, whores lounging out of windows and stoops as men wandered from woman to woman. Seth walked down the street openly, no slinking around here. He was making it known death walked the streets.

Crowds parted and people stared as he passed, this was not the first time he had walked the ward or other districts and taken a life or several. Death was known on the streets and he was feared. He found his quarry in a whore house, a frequent enough customer that he was easily found despite being married with three children Seth found the Count Daughtry in the arms of a buxom whore.

The Regarian barely had time to raise his head as Seth kicked in the door. He looked surprised just as Seth’s dagger lay open his throat and splattered blood all over the whore. The woman shrieked but Seth simply turned away, he had three other targets this night and they were far apart.

A man burst into the room, looking startled at his dead guest. Seth knew him, Renning the owner of many of the whore houses of the ward. Renning looked up at him, his face drawn with fear yet he did not recognize him through the mask. Seth wondered idly what Renning would do if he did recognize him. Right then however he felt nothing at the idea of killing Renning if he made a fuss over the dead lord.

“So you are death that walks the ward,” Renning said gathering himself and covering his fear with a bluster that was a cheep as the whores his peddled.

“I walk where I may,” Seth answered. “And take those who I may.”

“Bad for business,” Renning muttered and Seth turned to him fully making the pimp flinch away from him.

“Do you really wish to stand in my path?” Seth asked.

“N-no,” Renning said shakily. “I was suggesting a business venture which may just profit us both.”

“Profit you more likely,” Seth said knowing Renning’s nature already.

“Hear me out,” Renning said, gaining courage if only from the idea of profit. “I will arrange the lords you wish to kill in certain houses, this way you aren’t disturbing the other customers or my girls and it is easier to find your targets.”

“And tip them off,” Seth said. “I need no help from the likes of you.”

He was about to walk passed Renning when the Lirian pimp spoke again.

“Then I can assist in the cue,” Renning said and Seth looked at him.

“I’m not surprised you know the plot,” Seth said, “Almost everyone does but Elrik. What I wonder is how you expect to be any help.”

“You are gathering merchants because they have gold yes?” Renning said. “I have the most lucrative business of all the trades.”

Seth was silent, Renning was right of course, but gold wasn’t the only reason they were gathering the merchants under their wing. They needed people, they needed a mob or at least enough people to take the palace when the time came. They didn’t have to be warriors, just enough people to tie up the knights until power was established. Renning who peddled in flesh might just be the perfect man for the job.

“I suspect you know every strong arm in Rogue Town,” Seth said and Renning smiled.

“I employ at least a third; another third are customers,” Renning answered.

“Good, we will discuss details later,” Seth said. “I’ll send a messenger.”

He turned to the leave and again Renning stopped him.

“I would appreciate you stop killing my customers,” Renning said boldly. Seth looked back at him, the man visibly flinched and withered under his gaze.

“I will continue on my way,” Seth answered. “But I’ll avoid involving the women.”

Renning nodded shakily and Seth left, on again to the next target. The night was a night of blood and hours later Seth found himself on a rooftop alone watching the sun rise as the blood dried on his hands. He knelt on the roof letting his mind poke through his consciousness looking for lingering feelings or thoughts like a tongue probing his teeth for a loose one. As always, he felt nothing.

The sun rose yet Seth did not stir, watching as it rose higher through the pale morning sky. He was so still he wasn’t sure if he kept breathing or not. At last he rose to return to the palace, the sun up and city alive once more. He walked through the city, still wearing his mask so the crowds parted for him like starlings avoiding a hawk. He didn’t bother using a gate, just scaled the palace walls and walked through the gardens. The guards had been lax of late due to the lack of discipline from the king.

Elrik let his knights and guards do as they pleased, increasing their wages, and letting standards slip. As long as he got compliments or praises he let anyone do as they wanted. Seth bet he could even get close enough to Elrik to kill him so long as he was bowing and scrapping. It was what made it so easy for Lucia to manipulate him, not a woman’s wiles just a few whispered words.

He went into the palace back to Lucia’s rooms, seeking her comfort once more. When he arrived however Lucia was not in her rooms, the nurse was taking care of Colette. Seth went instead to the bedchamber and found Jeanne and Nicodemus curled up together by the fire reading. It was a homey scene, one that Seth shattered instantly at his arrival. Jeanne drew a dagger and leapt to her feet, standing to guard Nicodemus.

“Relax it’s only me,” Seth said removing his death mask.

“You say to relax when you enter my chamber dressed as death and covered in blood,” Jeanne said angrily, not lowering her dagger.

“You know damn well that we need you alive more than dead,” Seth said. “You are the leverage to keep Lucia in her place. Where is she?”

“Court,” Jeanne answered. “Elrik is preening and she is there with him preening.”

Seth held his peace on that remark, Jeanne was becoming bitter over the theft of her identity.

“You have killed,” said Nicodemus and Seth looked at him. The bookish lord was looking up at him with sad eyes, his spectacles making his eyes larger. Seth simply nodded, there was nothing to say to that remark, nothing to say to the bald truth other than a simple acknowledgement. Jeanne sneered at Seth, her disgust palpable. He turned away to the water basin to wash away the blood.

“Don’t bother with pity Nico, this man is little more than a coward.”

“I feel nothing Jeanne, not even fear,” Seth answered her jibe, not turning to face her.

“Then why are you here?” Nicodemus asked, and Seth looked to him. “Why did you come seeking comfort from Lucia when you feel no need for that comfort?”

Seth stared at Nicodemus because he realized he had no answer to that. He had been meditating for hours seeking feeling in himself yet found nothing. Yet here he was seeking comfort and feelings once again. What drove that need if not emotions? He had no idea, and something told him that he needed to find out. He needed to know so he could understand his link to Kal Ba’el, and Loe’s link to Kal Ba’el.

“Perhaps your humanity is being…”

“No,” Seth said sharply cutting Nicodemus off as he finished washing. “I feel nothing still. Yet there is a link to Lucia that draws me to her. If I can understand that link, I can find Loe’s weakness and kill him.”

“And what of the dark god?” Nicodemus asked. “What do you plan to do about Kal Ba’el?”

“Kal Ba’el can’t be killed,” Seth answered. “Nor do I believe anything can be done about it. Men have always had a darkness within them and always will. I believe this is what Kal Ba’el is, the manifestation of humanity’s darkness.”

“No, he is a dark spirit of the aether and can be killed,” Nicodemus said hefting the book he had been reading. “I have been researching the Phay, and ways that we might defeat this spirit and aid you.”

“Why?” Seth asked.

“Glen set me on this path,” Nicodemus answered. “I knew he was keeping much from me, so I decided to research on my own. He sought a flute, I believe he was seeking the means for the Phay to march. I have found no mentions of Kal Ba’el, but who better to fight a dark spirit than the Phay?”

“I don’t know,” Seth answered, unable to summon the will to even care about this. He went over to the changing screen and found some of his servant’s clothes to change into. “I’m just working to kill Loe. Continue your research if you want, I doubt you will find anything.”

He finished changing and came out to see the two still watching him. The look on Jeanne’s face told him they had found little so far at least to combat Kal Ba’el. Seth didn’t care, and he doubted they would, the dark god was only surfacing now so he doubted history had anything to say on the matter.

“The song is more important,” Nicodemus said. “The Phay can combat Kal Ba’el better than we can, but they need to march.”

“And what have you learned of that?” Seth asked, and Jeanne’s scowl grew more.

“Legends,” Nicodemus answered. “I am honestly surprised how much there actually is, considering how long ago the Phay lived in Miread. We’ve found many legends of them, mostly Aldan.”

“Nico is the one reading through those,” Jeanne said, her face softening as she looked at Nicodemus. “He can read ancient Aldan.”

“It is no different than modern Aldan,” Nicodemus answered as he blushed. “We should be looking for the song in more current records.”

“And?” Seth asked, and Nicodemus sighed.

“Do you have any idea how many mentions of music there are in legends and history?” Nicodemus answered wearily. “Glen gave me a starting point with Ioram but there is little information on the Lost King’s travels. His journal is in Alda, so I’ve started to read through histories after his time trying to pick up the trail elsewhere. Sadly, I have only access to Aldan and Regarian records. The library here has some records from the other kingdoms but only recent records. What I really need is the Tower of Balal in Myr.”

Seth thought of Varas and the mage’s secret workings with Kal Ba’el. He decided however not to tell the prince of this, he doubted the bookish prince could travel to Myr. And he would never leave Jeanne, she was trapped here in the Court of Miracles. Nicodemus glanced at Jeanne and Seth knew he was thinking along the same lines. Jeanne was as well telling by the glint in her eye.

“Maybe we could,” Jeanne said softly. “We could go to Myr. I’m not needed here, with Lucia taking my place no one would notice.”

“Taking your beatings, you mean,” Seth said and Jeanne winced. “You are my leverage over her Jeanne, I’m not going to let you leave Court.”

“You just want me to suffer because she is suffering,” Jeanne said bitterly.

“I want you dead and Lucia safe away from Elrik,” Seth answered. “But that isn’t going to happen, so I’ll settle for this.”

Jeanne glared at him, but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

“There is no need for this fighting,” Nicodemus said. “You do not need to lash out when you are hurt.”

“I am not hurt,” Seth answered. It was true that he felt no spite for Jeanne, he just acted out of habit. “I can’t feel anything.”

“I know,” Nicodemus said wearily as he stood and gathered his books. “I should go, there are more records I believe could help.”

“Please don’t let this mongrel chase you away Nico,” Jeanne said stepping near him.

“He isn’t Jeanne and he is not a mongrel,” Nicodemus said kindly. “Forgive him and Lucia, they are trying to protect you.”

Seth said nothing to this as he had no desire to protect Jeanne even if he could. Jeanne leaned in to kiss Nicodemus, but the prince blushed and pulled away.

“I need to go,” Nicodemus said embarrassed. He grabbed his books, dropping a few, but hurried to the door anyway. Seth followed him out, simply so he was not left alone with Jeanne. They walked out into the hall. But Nicodemus froze. Seth turned to see Lucia and Elrik walking towards them. Lucia froze in horror while Elrik frowned and quickened his step forcing Lucia to hurry after him.

“Cousin,” Nicodemus said nervously as Elrik approached.

“That is king to you worm,” Elrik growled. “What are you doing here? Your mother is dead, why are you in the women’s wing?”

“Visiting my second cousin,” Nicodemus answered but he did not meet Elrik’s glare. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“She is just a babe, what interest do you have in her?” Elrik asked angrily, seeming unconvinced.

“I’d like my second cousin to know me,” Nicodemus answered lamely. He wasn’t being convincing, especially as he shuffled his feet.

“He’s come before husband,” Lucia said quickly. “Colette is very fond of him.”

Elrik’s frown only deepened as he looked from Nicodemus and Lucia and Seth realized Lucia should never have spoken. He saw Elrik’s mind make the leap, Lucia defending Nicodemus as he looked guilty and unable to look at either of them. Elrik grabbed Nicodemus by the collar and began to shake him.

“You’ve been sleeping with my wife!” Elrik roared. Nicodemus didn’t fight back, his spectacles flying off. Seth saw knights and guards hurrying down the hall, the men looking startled at this sudden outburst.

“Stop!” Lucia shouted horrified but was too afraid to get between the two. Seth hung back, uninclined to interfere if Lucia wasn’t in harms way. The doors flew open behind him and Jeanne came storming out, a saber in her hand. Before anyone could stop her Jeanne lashed out with the saber, cutting Elrik’s hand so he released Nicodemus. The prince slumped to the floor, visibly shaken but alive.

Elrik looked at Jeanne then back to Lucia, his mouth hanging open in astonishment. The guards arrived but none moved, simply standing confused. Jeanne glared at Elrik while Lucia looked like the world had ended.

“If you touch him again I’ll cut off an appendage,” Jeanne threatened. “And I don’t mean your finger.”

“Who…” Elrik trailed off and shook his head and looked at Lucia again. He finally made the connection and his face darkened. “A double like before, you are a double.”

Lucia was unable to look at him, she was trembling with fear.

“Do not punish her,” Jeanne said angrily. “She is my servant, I am the only one who should take punishment for this deception.”

“How long?” Elrik asked facing Jeanne. “How long has this whore been impersonating you?”

Jeanne’s eyes flickered away unable to answer and Elrik growled. He turned to Lucia, taking a threatening step towards her.

“Since summer of last year,” Lucia answered afraid and Elrik stepped back as if she hit him with the truth.

“So, Colette is yours,” Elrik said shocked.

“And whose fault is that?” Jeanne hissed angrily and Elrik’s eyes shot to her.

“Guards,” Elrik said in a commanding tone. “Arrest these two women and my cousin. Send messengers to gather the court in the throne hall, and bring them there.”

“What!” Jeanne said outraged. The guards closed in and Jeanne looked ready to fight when Nicodemus stopped her with a shaky hand. He had retrieved his spectacles and now stood at Jeanne’s side. She looked up at him with her heart in her eyes and dropped her saber. The look between the two did not go unnoticed by Elrik. He sneered but said nothing as the guards drew the two apart and started to escort them away. Seth noted they treated Lucia with the same reverence, so he did nothing to stop them.

“You,” Elrik said pointing at Seth. Seth realized he thought he was a servant and quickly bowed. “Get the nurse to bring the child to the main hall as well.”

“Yes majesty,” Seth said and Elrik left. Seth was tempted then to make sure Colette disappeared, but he wasn’t sure what would happen so decided to air on the side of caution. He could always step in if need be. He went back into Jeanne’s rooms and repeated the orders to Bryony who took the news with horror. He didn’t wait for her, and left to the throne hall.

There he found most of the court had quickly gathered, many nobles and servants standing along the wall and into the hall leaving an avenue through the center of the hall. Elrik sat on his luxurious throne, Black Bart’s pelt draped over the back of the throne.

Seth found Han and stood at his side, the Lirian lord glancing at him for an explanation.

“Trouble,” Seth answered. “Elrik found out about Lucia’s identity.”

Han’s eyes flashed as he looked back at Elrik, obviously trying to calculate what was about to happen. Seth had no answer, Elrik was worse than his father. His rages were hotter and cruelty colder, with greater distance between the two. He could do anything from killing Jeanne on the spot to forgiving her to torture her longer. What Seth couldn’t be sure of was what would happen to Lucia and Colette. Lucia was the mother of Elrik’s child, and while Colette was his child she was now his bastard. Seth’s hands crept to the many hidden daggers about his person; no matter the outcome or plan he would be sure Lucia got out of this alive.

The murmurs of the crowd drew every eye to the entrance where Lucia and Jeanne walked in surrounded by guards. Jeanne glared around as they came to a stop before the throne, Lucia simply hung her head. Nicodemus followed the two and stood before Elrik as well. The last to join them was Bryony, holding a sleeping Colette. Lucia looked at her daughter, her heart in her eyes.

“Jeanne Lonna,” Elrik said loudly, the name did not go unnoticed to the gathered lords. “You are the real Jeanne Lonna, not this woman here who all thought was their queen.”

Gasps and chatter went up from the crowd as Jeanne glared at Elrik.

“I am Jeanne Lonna, I had this woman, my servant Lucia, impersonate me to protect my life from you!”

“Lies,” Elrik said calmly. “Did you not do it, so you could lay with your lover?”

He turned to Nicodemus who blushed as he looked down at his feet. More talk and outrage at this, glares going to Nicodemus.

“Yes cousin, why not tell everyone you have slept with my wife?” Elrik asked sneering.

Nicodemus shifted about on his feet and glanced at Jeanne to see her gazing at him with love and pity. He straitened then and turned to his cousin.

“I love her,” Nicodemus said, and the court erupted.

“Silence!” Elrik shouted and silence fell so he could return his glare to Nicodemus. “If I did not need you for the throne of Lir I would execute you now. As it is however your life is spared.”

Nicodemus simply nodded, his knees shaking.

“Jeanne however…” Elrik said with a cruel smile when Jeanne interrupted him.

“I had to have Lucia take my place because you raped me and stabbed me to make me sterile,” Jeanne said hotly, again gasps going up.

“Did I?” Elrik said smoothly. “Prove it then.”

Jeanne’s eyes flashed angrily as she looked around wildly. There were no witnesses to her rape and healing, Seth had made sure of it. Her eyes did not find him hidden in the crowd, so she settled on another.

“Lord Lonelove,” Jeanne said, and the mage lord stepped out of the crowd. “You can prove what was done to me with your magic.”

Varas was unreadable as he stepped forward, but met Lucia’s eyes. Lucia had told Seth about Varas’ scheme with Jeanne and how Elrik had ruined it. Seth knew however that Varas had other schemes now, so he wondered what he would do. He stepped up and drew a sigil over Jeanne’s belly, Seth surprised to see the lines of power which had once been invisible to him. He knew nothing about the High Magic so could not read what Varas did.

The mage stood reading his sigil a few moments before letting the magic dissipate. He walked away from Jeanne to Elrik’s side, the silence of the room oppressive.

“She is sterile and has been since birth,” Varas said and the room erupted again.

“Lies!” Jeanne shouted over the din.

“Enough!” Elrik shouted, grinning madly. “So, Jeanne it looks like you used your servant to hide not only your affair but the fact you are barren. Is this how the Mark sought to seed an alliance? Sending me a useless woman who is as barren as their highlands? What shall I do to such a vile woman, an adulteress and barren?”

Jeanne stood fists clenched, her nostrils flared with rage. Lucia however stepped forward and fell to her knees before Elrik.

“I beg you, majesty, to punish me in Jeanne’s place,” Lucia said loudly so all heard her. “I am the one who took her place, I stole her life from her. I lied to you, I manipulated you for my own ends, I have stolen the love and adoration that is rightly yours from your people. I am the criminal here.”

Seth saw what she was doing, she was making Elrik hate her and punish her in Jeanne’s place. In the end Lucia was protecting Jeanne once again.

“And the adultery?” Elrik asked.

“I am the guilty one,” Jeanne said, trying to take Lucia’s place.

“No, I committed it with you, majesty just as much as Jeanne,” Lucia said. “I made you break your vows, stealing your honor and Jeanne’s. I broke your marriage before she did.”

Elrik looked down at her and Lucia dared to meet his eyes, and Seth saw him softening to her. Seth knew though that Lucia could not let that happen.

“In truth I hate you,” Lucia said, her voice dropping with distain now. “I hated being in your bed, and enduring even looking at you. If I could I would have killed you long ago, and revel in knowing I dishonored you so.”

Elrik’s eyes went hard and he looked away, Lucia’s fate was now sealed.

“Grand Sect,” Elrik said and Sect Ichabod stepped forward. “I wish to dissolve my union with Jeanne Lonna. Do the Gods approve?”

“They do majesty, it is the Gods’ will you be freed from this union,” Ichabod said, making Cael’s sign in the air.

“Jeanne Lonna, you are no longer my wife,” Elrik said. “You will return to the Mark, and are hereby banished from Regis and the Court of Miracles.”

Jeanne looked relieved for a moment before horror set in and she turned to look at Nicodemus.

“Cousin,” Elrik said. “I still need you for Lir’s throne, and you need a wife that will bear children. I cannot let you off without punishment however, you still slept with my wife.”

He signaled the guards to hold Nicodemus and Jeanne who shouted his name. Servants came forward at Elrik’s signal, carrying a brazier and iron tools. Nicodemus struggled uselessly, his eyes wide with fear. Elrik came down from his throne to take up an iron poker heated over the coals. It was red hot, and Elrik grinned as he held it up.

The guards held Nicodemus’ head as Elrik brought the iron poker up to his eyes knocking away his spectacles. The hiss of hot metal against Nicodemus’ eye was drowned by his screams. Elrik moved to the other eye and did the same before tossing the iron poker away. Nicodemus was now unconscious, and the guards dragged him away, a mage following them.

Elrik looked at Jeanne and smiled, Jeanne snarling at him. He only grinned more as he walked over to Lucia still knelt on the floor. Lucia was shaking and flinched away from him as he stood over her.

“Please majesty I only ask you spare Colette,” Lucia said softly yet Seth heard her. Elrik looked up at Bryony who held Colette, who was now crying from the commotion.

“Yes, my daughter the bastard,” Elrik said lazily. “She will be sent to the Sect like any other bastard, to be raised in the arms of the Gods and cleansed of the sin you brought her into.”

Lucia whimpered and bowed her head deeper nodding in gratitude. Bryony bowed and hurried away, carrying Colette out of the hall.

“Your fate shall be harsher,” Elrik said his voice dropping as he glared down at Lucia. “Lonelove, a word.”

Varas stepped forward and Elrik whispered to him, the mage’s face giving nothing away. Varas nodded and Elrik returned to his throne. Seth gripped his daggers, ready to step in when Han’s hand on his arm stopped him.

“You will not interfere,” Han said. “It seems Varas just set himself as the new puppet master here. I’ll need you to work with him controlling Elrik. If you interfere now we will lose our hold in Court.”

“Try and stop me,” Seth said glaring at Han.

“He won’t kill her,” Han said. “Rely on that and wait.”

If Seth could feel anything he would have fought, his love would have driven him. But he felt nothing, and knew Han was right. So, he settled back to watch Lucia be tormented before him and do nothing to stop it.

Varas went to the brazier and set a crucible on the coals. He drew some sigils and the heat of the brazier doubled impossibly. Varas dumped in raw bronze into the crucible and let it melt. Drawing more sigils made the metal heat quickly until it was red hot. He drew another sigil on the floor and turned to Lucia.

“Step into the circle here,” Varas said. Lucia stood and stepped into the circle, the magic taking hold to hold her still, her head tilted up. Varas drew a sigil over the molten metal and moved his hands. The bronze lifted from the crucible in a wave and the magic molded it into a sphere. Varas drew more characters on his sigil and the molten ball of metal twisted and turned. Varas controlled the metal towards Lucia’s upturned face. She flinched away from the heat, but the magic held her perfectly still.

The red-hot metal touched flesh and Lucia screamed. Her scream did not end as Varas molded the metal over her face with his magic. He formed it into a mask, a hole for her mouth, nose, and eyes. It formed around her features, Varas sculpting it so she could still open and close her mouth. She looked eerily beautiful, her face now radiant red.

Varas signaled to a servant who lifted a bucket of water and tossed it onto Lucia’s face. The metal hissed and her screams slowed in low groans. The metal cooled and Varas drew some more sigils to maintain the mask on her face. At last he let his magic dissipate, Lucia dropping to the floor. She still moaned softly, Seth suspecting she was still conscious. Varas went to her and drew some sigils, some healing sigils but Seth also recognized the beauty sigils.

Elrik came down from his throne and stood over Lucia, drawing a dagger. Seth tensed, but he didn’t think Elrik would kill her after all that work to fuse a mask to her face. Instead Elrik used his dagger to tear away her dress. She started to struggle, her cries muffled from the mask over her face. When he had her fully naked, Elrik held out his hand. A servant put a gold collar and chain in his hand and Elrik leaned down to clasp it around Lucia’s neck.

Elrik walked back to his throne, dragging Lucia behind him as she struggled against the choke collar. He pulled down Black Bart’s pelt and dropped it on the floor. He dragged Lucia onto it and chained her to the throne. She lay next to the throne gasping, her breath whistling out of the mask fused to her face.

“Good job,” Elrik said pleased as he sat on his throne and Varas nodded.

“Monster,” Jeanne said and Elrik looked at her.

“Guards, take the Lady Jeanne to the stables, I’m sure she is eager to be on her way,” Elrik said coldly.

“No, I’m not going anywhere without Lucia,” Jeanne said hotly. “She is my servant.”

“She surrendered herself to me,” Elrik said. “And justice must be served. Guards.”

Jeanne shouted and struggled as the guards dragged her away. They would have to tie her to the saddle and escort her to the very border. Seth wondered if she would rouse her father from his barrow, or if the old King would be as stubborn as the badger he wore. Elrik turned his attention to the court, grinning victoriously.

“From now on this woman is my beast, much like Black Bart was to my father. Not a vicious certainly, but much more pleasing to the eye than that moldy old bear. She is no longer human, you all shall call her Beast.”

Murmurs of accent went up over the room, though Seth saw pity in many an eye as they looked at Lucia. Then again, he also saw many lustful gazes as they looked at the naked helpless woman.

“So any semblance of control over Elrik is gone now,” Han said watching court. “We have to make sure he doesn’t decide to resume the war.”

“Easy, we just need to convince him the Mark will go to war,” Seth answered. “If anything, we could convince him to attack the Mark. It will make Regis ripe for the taking.”

Han nodded looking pleased, the Nine were crumbling and at each other’s throats while the wolves stalked behind them. The end of man was coming by their own hand.

#fantasy #series #writing #please read #fairies #dragons

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imagine-loki · 7 years

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Across the Divide

TITLE: Across The Divide CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Two AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki sneaking out of the palace as a youth to see the city and countryside, while out one day, he accidentally gets in trouble for something, but a young girl deals with the situation, allowing him to be left alone and his true identity be kept secret. She is a poor girl who is only in the city to sell goods with her father, so she does not realise it is Loki, even though she sees his face. They form a friendship as she shows him around the city, and tells him the date she comes to the city every month for a particular market. RATING: Teen and Up

For the month, Loki thought about what Ariella had told him. He spent more time paying attention to when peasant matters arose when he was in his father's council, learning about the realm, and he realised that nearly nothing was said of the issues of the lower classes. Everything was about their productivity, nothing of their wellbeing. He watched as the man in charge of such matters, Lord Ivan rambled on, dressed in his finest silks and gold gleaming in the light as he spoke about how there had to be more done about getting them to be more productive. Loki watched as his father merely nodded and Thor seemed to be daydreaming, neither paying any heed to what was being said.

He went to the city a couple more times in the month, not on days of any particular importance and though she said she would not return until the following country market, he kept an eye out for Ariella, but she was not there. When the day finally came again for the market, Loki prepared for it well in advance, he feigned a small headache the night before and stated he was going to use the day of rest to read and recover in his rooms. Being as reclusive as he was, his parents and brother paid no heed to him. Usually Loki could be found indoors anyway, be it in some dark corner of an unused room practising magic he was not supposed to know yet, or in his rooms, or even in the indoor training arena, he was renowned for his love of the outdoors, unlike Thor, his mother, and others, though that the reason for their highly contrasting skin tones.

Rushing through the city, Loki barely paid any heed to his surrounds, though he did have the wherewithal to ensure he was in no way suspicion-arousing. In the month since Ariella had scoffed at his overly clean and pristine clothes, he had made them more like those he had seen at the market; scuffed, an occasional rip or hole and with a few stains on the sleeves and pants. He still looked cleaner than most others, but he fit in far more. What irked him as the fact he had not bathed the day before or that morn or kept his hair as tidily, making him feel somewhat unpleasant, his mother would be appalled if she saw him, but it gave him an authentic appearance, he thought. When he got to the fountain in the city square, he looked around. The clock tower stated it was not yet noon, something that caused Loki considerable pride. He despised being late for things, one of the traits he had inherited from his father, though he rarely acknowledged such.

"Much better," He smiled and turned around to see Ariella behind him, smiling.

"Really?"

"Yes, I am impressed," She grinned before her face altered to one of seriousness. "Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"The belt buckle?"

"I wanted to help."

"I am not a pauper, I do not need your pity."

"I did not do it out of pity, I did it because I can because I have it to give. I have so many things I never use that are worth money, before, I used to discard them, but they are of use to you."

"Wait, you discard silver?" Ariella stared at him in disbelief.

"I never realised…" Loki felt ashamed for not realising sooner how little he realised something was worth. "What have you to get today?"

"Nothing." He frowned at her. "My father has not given me money to get anything."

"But do you need anything?"

"Those are two different questions." Ariella smiled. "Come on, we'll get in trouble for loitering here." she began to walk off.

"Do people often get in trouble for standing around, Court is effectively nothing but that."

"The differences a title makes. Us low-borns cannot be up to anything good when hanging around." she explained.

"Can I ask something?" Ariella looked at him. "Did you use the buckle?"

"At first, no, I had planned to give it back to you but then the rents went up. I pretended I found it and my parents used it to make sure we could keep our home for the rest of the year."

"A year?" Loki frowned. The scrapings needed for their broths the last time were nothing substantial, but they had been a small portion of the belt, a home, he thought, would be substantially more. "What sort of home is it?"

"It's small, tiny really, but we have a small plot next to it where we can grow some food, and there is room for a goat, so we have its milk," Ariella spoke fondly on her abode. "When Mikhail was alive, it was getting so cramped, I remember thinking it would be a lot easier without him there, but I always thought of him moving out, getting married, not…" she swallowed guiltily.

"How did he…?"

"He was working in a mine, they were forced to do longer shifts, it…well when people get tired, accidents happen more frequently. The mine was not properly secured, it collapsed, everyone was lost."

"How many?"

"Four hundred." Loki's eyes went wide. "So we were not alone in our loss."

"How long did it take to get him?" Arielle scoffed. "He's still down there?"

"The term 'financially unviable' was used a lot. What does that mean?" she asked, the hope in her face telling Loki she had no idea what it meant and that she truly was hoping he did.

He swallowed, "It…eh, it means that the cost of something is not worth the return," her head cocked slightly to the side. "They will not do it because they do not think it is worth their time or money," he explained. "I am so sorry."

Ariella seemed to take only a moment to think about what he said before sighing. "Such is life." Loki felt incredibly guilty at how easily she accepted the fact her brother was never going to be given a proper burial. "At least he was not alone."

"I do not know what to say," Loki was unsure he should even say that, but he felt he had to say something.

"Do you want to go anywhere in particular?" Ariella had chosen to not focus on the past.

"What is outside the city?"

"Well, the edge of the forests are only a mile or two from here if you want to see, I love it, it is so contrasting." She smiled.

"Please, I've never…" he blushed slightly.

"You've never seen the forests?" She asked in disbelief.

"I have not been allowed."

"How high born are you?" she asked curiously. "If I were to ask the right person, who would I be told you are the son of, Fandral?"

Loki swallowed at her using the false name he had given her. "Quite high." He admitted.

"Royal circle?"

"Yes."

"Wow." She took another moment to analyse things. "This way." Ariella guided them as they walked through streets and streets before the numbers of people began to thin and they finally could see the green that to Loki was only in the far distance for the most of his life, seemed to be beginning to grow to a great height above him. "What would you like to see?"

"What is there?" He asked excitedly.

Ariella showed him the routes to the different towns, including the one she lived near; Loki made note of that route before she brought him to the water's edge. He had seen the water that made one whole side of the city's outskirts from as far back as he could remember, and as he had used the Bifrost to go off realm with his parents, but he had never been to the water's edge, something that he had always wished to do and was somewhat giddy to finally get to do. When they got there, Ariella took off her shoes and placed her feet in the crystal clear water, sighing contently as she did. Loki watched for a moment before copying her when he placed his feet in, he realised that like her hands, her feet were marred in some form of what seemed to be permanent dirt, he also noticed cuts and sores that were akin to the blisters he had from ill fitted armour and clothes, looking at the shoes, he realised they were too small for her feet and aged, he could not imagine the pain she was in from simply walking, and knowing what she said of having to walk back to her home, he felt guilty for having her walk so far with him. "You seem to like this."

He looked up to see Ariella smiling kindly at him. "it is great, I never did this before, it is colder than it looks though."

"It is." she grinned before she looked at him curiously, "Why do you do this? Why do you leave your home and walk the streets?"

"I want to see what I am not taught, I want to see the whole realm, not what I am told is the realm."

"Maybe the realm will be better in the future if you are able to speak with King Thor about it."

"Do you think Thor will be king?" he asked. Ariella did not respond. "Honestly."

"I cannot say." she looked at him in a manner that caused Loki to become highly curious, but she said no more on it.

"Please, Ari, you can tell me, I will not tell anyone." He pleaded.

"I cannot, talking ill of them, it is forbidden."

"Who?"

"The Allfather, his sons."

"Really?"

"It is punishable with whippings." Loki's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "If you speak ill, what happens in court?"

"What do you call 'speaking ill' exactly?"

"Saying something they have made law is not a good idea, or that they do not care about us low-borns." she stated.

Loki could hardly process her words. "You are not allowed voice opinions?" She shook her head. "Court is nothing but people shouting them and most of them stupid, uneducated ones."

"Wow."

"I thought you were going to say something like if you want to overthrow Odin or not have a king there would be an issue."

It was Ariella's turn to stare, but hers was one of terror. "That is treason." She scolded, looking around to ensure no one saw them, to her relief, they were still alone.

"Well, yes, that is a no-no in court too, it comes with a trial and an adequate punishment."

"What's a trial?"

Loki laughed for a second before realising that genuinely, again Ariella had no idea what the words meant. "The process by which a person, accused of a crime is put forward, along with evidence to support the proof of that crime and they are found innocent or guilty and released or punished accordingly," Loki explained, trying to keep it simple for her.

"You use a lot of big words." she commented, "So the village constable does not get free reign in the city?"

"What?"

"In the villages, the constable does all of that, though not with a trial, I have not heard of such things before. Do they really let you go if the claims are false?"

"Of course, why would you punish an innocent person?"

"Because innocent is innocent," Loki stated firmly.

"The city sounds so much nicer," Ariella smiled sadly.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," She smiled. "Sure."

"Have you eaten today?" the smile fell from her face. "Your stomach is grumbling."

"Food is getting more expensive," She explained. "My father has what little we have to get as much as he can."

"But they said they wanted to increase production," Loki frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing, something I remembered," He dismissed with a smile. "Where is there to eat around here?"

"Nowhere, it is not highly populated, people either live in the city or the forest, not in between."

"Can you walk to the city?"

"Yes, I already did it today, remember, I live that way." she laughed, pointing towards the woodlands.

"But your feet." He looked down, only to see that even though she had washed them, the dirt was still there, he wondered if it was dirt at all.

"I am used to it."

"That looks so painful."

"I shall live." She shrugged. "But, so long as you do not feel overly adverse to it, I may leave these off until I get to the city."

"Can you leave them off altogether?"

"No," She laughed. "You have to be properly clothed for the city."

"Oh," Loki had not realised. "Well, leave them off for now, why do you not get another pair?"

"If I cannot afford to eat, what makes you think I will buy shoes that only get used once a month? I got these two years ago, I cannot ask for more so soon."

Loki swallowed at the idea of a new pair of shoes every other year, he thought of the new boots he had gotten the day before, to add to the many other pairs he already owned. "I am sorry, I just…How is it all so different?" he snapped.

"Fandral?"

"You have nothing, you have not even eaten today, and I…" guilt grew in him. "It is not fair."

"It is not your doing." she stated kindly.

"I feel as though I am part of it."

"How so?"

"I…" he swallowed, he could not admit who he was. "I just do."

"Well you kept a roof over my head, so you are not. I am lucky, I still have a home." She smiled before walking on. "Come on high-born, you will not be home in time if you keep this pace going."

Loki said nothing but followed. Though they were reluctant, they made reasonable time back to the city and before long, Ariella brought him through the streets to another access point to the wealthier area of the city. "Will you be here again next month?" Ariella nodded, not able to speak as he chewed on the bread that had come with the broth Loki had insisted on buying. She had eaten her own bread before it, but Loki insisted on her taking his too, she was too hungry to decline. "Can I meet you again?"

Having swallowed all of the food, she nodded. "Sure, I…oh Norns."

A figure came into view and she watched as he approached, Loki turned to see a grizzly looking man coming towards them, seemingly somewhat drunk. "There you are."

"Father," Ariella swallowed.

"Where were you?"

"Walking around, I did not realise…"

"Who is this?" He demanded, looking at Loki.

"This is a boy I met, Fandral, we just went for a walk to stay out of trouble." She explained.

"Trouble is all that could come of such things." Her father commented, looking Loki up and down. "She is too young for that."

"Sir, I would never…"

"Sir?" Ariella's father stared at him, "What sort of man says 'sir'? What sort of airs and graces do you think you have to talk such a way?" Loki swallowed, unsure of what to do.

"Where is the cart?" Ariella asked, not wanting her father to focus on her friend, for fear he would raise suspicion as to who he was and expose him, meaning she would lose the only good company she knew.

"Where I bloody left it, so get going." He turned and walked away.

"Sorry," Ariella stated sadly. "Since my brother…he did not take it well."

"Here." Loki took her hand and put something in it. "It should help."

Arielle looked at the pouch, it contained some coins. "I cannot take this."

"Please Ari, you have to, take it." He insisted. "I left a note in there, it will be where we will meet nice month, okay?"

"I…"

"Ari…"

"I cannot read," she admitted. Loki stared at her. "I do not know how to." She explained.

"The forge, on the worksmith's street, same time." he insisted. "Go, before he gets angry and comes back."

"Bye Fandral."

"Goodbye Ari." he watched as she rushed off, saddened at her life, but more determined than ever to see what could be done.

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idunlikegirilikebah · 7 years

Conversation

Blez: Zen, but then she falls in love with V and kinda forgets about him a little when the V route is released. She’s kinda lazy when it comes to the four days before each route, missing a bunch of chatrooms. Before she branches the path she usually replays a few to get the person she wants. Her first party she didn’t invite any guests (she was gonna wait until right before the party to answer all the emails but accidentally entered the party anyway). Was PISSED about the secret ends. She fell even more in love with V at that time.

Blee: She gained interest in Mystic Messenger from Tuesday and Cecilia through osmosis. She probably got a lot of bad endings for neglecting the chat rooms. (Stupid Blee, not adjusting her sleeping schedule for the RFA.) But once she started taking the game seriously, she tried to romance 707 even though she was in casual mode. She ended up going on Jaehee’s route instead, and she fell in lurv. Later on, when she FINALLY unlocked deep story mode, she went on 707’s route and fell in lurv with him too. She’s so conflicted about this. Help her.

Tuesday: She was the first among the Gen1 gang to play Mystic Messenger. She literally only downloaded it to romance Jaehee, but she ended up becoming Mystic Messenger trash instead. She sets alarms so she can get all the chat rooms without spending hourglasses. Whenever a chat room is unlocked, she drops EVERYTHING she’s doing to complete it. She cried like a bitch when V’s route was revealed. Also, Jumin is her husbando. (existential crisis intensifies)

Cecilia: Of course, Cecilia was the first to hear about Mystic Messenger from Tuesday. She was constantly bombarded with screenshot and fan art, but mostly, she only pretended to care cause that’s what good girlfriends do? Tuesday finally convinced Celie to download the game. However, the fILE WAS TOO BIG. “Just delete some stuff from your phone,” Tuesday insisted. Once Cecilia finally got it downloaded she skipped through the prologue without much thought, telling Tues it was okay. As she completed more chat rooms, though, she came to realize that it was pretty interesting. She didn’t give much thought to her choices in the game, and ended up getting Yoosung. She considered deleting the game at this point, because Yoosung definitely wasn’t her first choice. Then she got the feelins for him. How could she not? He’s such a sweet little gaming college student. She missed chat rooms sometimes, but never spent her hearts or hourglasses. She’s a HOARDER. As time went on, she began to fall in love with the one character without a route: Unknown.

Clay: “uuuuuuuu mystic messenger is GHEY”

Zenn: It was love at first sight for him. Yoosung was just so precious, he told himself that he would never love any other character more than him. (Especially not Seven. I mean, he’s the most popular character. Seven was too mainstream for him.) However, when he did Seven’s route he was completely and totally in love. He loved how energetic and happy he was, his depth of character later on in the route. Honestly, he found that out of all the characters, Seven was the most relatable. He replays Seven’s Christmas and Valentine’s Day content a lot. When he plays another route, he can’t help but get hearts from Seven. (“ugh i need to play his route again after this”) He spends a fuckton of money on hourglasses because he HAS to be in every single chat room no matter what. Has the after endings, Valentine’s Day content, and all the dlc for every character. Tried doing the bad endings but couldn’t bring himself to go through with them. (except for the bad ending in the christmas dlc)

Jase: Jase don't have a favorite he doesn't like the game. He got like two bad endings before he decided that he didn’t like it. “Why don’t you like the game, jase?” “i keep getting bad endings, therefore it’s trash” “did you play at least half of the chat rooms?” “nah” “did you get a lot of hearts from the character you were trying to get?” “nah, i kept breaking them” “did you get at least 10 people to come to the party?” “nah” “well, maybe if you gave it another chance--” “NAH”

Jess: She enjoys talking to Jumin a lot (are we sure the people in this app are fake? She cries) She wastes no time in finishing Zen’ route (which was who she got first), stashing her hourglasses and buying the deep route stories to see her husband. She finishes Jumin’s and feels empty inside. Literally cries to Sacra about her fake husband. “It’s not fair,” she sniffles, “he just needed someone to be there for him and understand. HE’S NOT A ROBOT HE HAS EMOTIONS TO-” “jess…. I’M TRYING TO SLEEP” She decides to take her mind off of Jumin and plays Seven’s route. She’s not too interested in him, thinks he’s a little annoying. She becomes interested in Vanderwood, however. Even more so during the Secret endings. By the end of it she’s left clutching her phone, emailing cheritz the same sentence over and over. “I NEED A VANDERWOOD ROUTE”

Danny: Danny does not wish to play because “that would make him gaayyy”

Sacra: Started playing way later than everyone else. His goal is to get all the endings. (WOO!) Wonders if he’s technically catfishing the RFA, and is amused by the thought. He didn’t aim for anyone’s route in particular, and ended up getting Zen. Hasn’t even played the other routes yet, but he’s already claimed Zen as his husbando. Gets really invested in the plot line for Zen’s route, literally cries to Jess when Zen gets depressed after Echo Girl’s false accusations. “I’m just so worried about him, you know? HE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS.” And Jess just pats him on the head. Poor Saccles.

Kael: Jumin, because he’s hot and likes cats. What more could he possibly want?

Atlas: (shrug emoji) He don't play the vidya.

Blythe: Yoosung’s her fave, but she wishes he’d stop talking about Rika. Every time Yoosung does that, she’s like “(grumbles) if you miss her so much why don’t you just marry her?? fuckin Yoosung (picks the nice and supportive option)”. Gets extremely upset if she breaks anyone’s heart, even if she doesn’t like the character. “YOOSUNG NO. I DIDN’T MEAN THAT ABOUT RIKA (dies)” Selected the wrong options for most of the emails on her first run and barely got ten before the party.

Sparrow: Sparrow loves Yoosung because she's creepy and she always goes for the young, innocent ones. She completed every route in a week because she bought hourglasses for the 24 hour thing. She obviously completes the emails quickly, but she usually only just barely gets about ten guests.

Jax: Team Honey Buddha and PhD Pepper? *sits in a corner staring into seven's eyes* He loves both Seven and Unknown by the time he finishes the game, however. Frequently checks to see if there's a new chatroom when he's awake, and when one opens, he drops what he's doing to complete it. Sometimes uses hourglasses to unlock them for the next 24 hours. Sleeps with a 707 body pillow.

Kiro: Zen. Hottest Hari plus hottest RFA member equals… happiness? YES. Answers emails immediately after getting them, and never needs to look up walkthroughs to get those guests to come to the party. (Except for monogamy. He didn’t suggest they buy handcuffs for their girlfriend. WHO DOES THAT???) Gets THE FEELS like nobody’s business when he gets that phone call from Zen on day 9, where Zen talks about marriage and how Zen had imagined what their child would look like.

Enzo: fuck I don't want enzo to like any of them. It's like… he contaminates them with his… enzo… ness. I can't see him liking Jaehee, Jumin or seven. *sobs* he's a V man. He also has a thing for Jumin’s father, Chairman Han.

Armelle: She didn't like any of those fucks. She wishes there was a Glam Choi route.

Elodie: She starts the game and thinks Zen is super cute. However, as she’s playing, she feels bad for Jaehee and how hard she works, and ends up getting her route first. Hates Jumin with an undying passion because of it. She also gets more feelings for Zen because of Jaehee’s route, and plays his next. Literally apologizes to Jaehee out loud when she gets close to Zen. She tries really hard to save hourglasses but when she sees she missed a chat that Zen or Jaehee was in, she can’t control herself.

Bodford: His fave does not have a route. It’s the omelette Yoosung made. And omelette Yoosung too. He plays the April Fools dlc over and over so he can see his love and protect him from pigeons. Now, if only there was porridge in the game…

Dex: “ECHO GIRL ROUTE WHEN?” Doesn’t like the game, but he’s petty as fuck. He went on a campaign and sent spoilers to the rest of the cast until he got blocked by everyone. Except Tuesday. “Hey Tuesday, [SPOILER]” “wut. I already know that lolol.” “But what about [SPOILER]” “I completed Seven’s route four months ago” “V gets a route in august” “wtf that’s not a spoiler. That’s official news. You’re annoying, i’m blocking you”

Michael: *cries late at night bc Yoosung and Jumin aren't real* *i mean I lOVE YOU ZENN* Nah but for real if Jumin or Yoosung were real he would leave Zenn. Was one of the first to buy the newly released body pillow covers (Jumin’s of course), and bought Zenn the 707 one as a gift. They share custody of the emoji pillows. Michael keeps up with the chats. He barely ever misses any of them

Ursa: (squees about Yoosung with her girlfriend Blythe)

Johnny: Only downloaded Mystic Messenger because Tuesday kept crying over these fictional Korean men and wanted to see what the deal was. Oh boy. He loves the April Fools dlc okay. Tells everyone Jaehee is his favorite, but it’s really Unknown. He got the prologue bad ending right off the bat, and it was love at first sight. Made a squee of joy when Unknown called him cute. Got Unknown’s phone call in the Christmas dlc, and was like “wow I love Christmas now”. Johnny is a gayboy

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universeinform-blog · 7 years

Text

Korean Blogger Turns Herself Into Kylie Jenner

New Post has been published on https://universeinform.com/2017/03/14/korean-blogger-turns-herself-into-kylie-jenner/

Korean Blogger Turns Herself Into Kylie Jenner

This is so loopy! A Korean beauty blogger gave herself a makeover to make herself appearance precisely like Kylie Jenner and you simply must see how she does it!

Haye Min Park has a prime following with 2 million on Youtube and over three million on Instagram as Pony Make-up. The South Korean splendor blogger creates terrific Make-up seems and might absolutely transform herself like she did in one video where she made herself over to seem like none aside from Kylie Jenner, 19.

The 6-minute video is beyond enthralling as Haye makes use of a substantial form of products which include foundations, brushes, and false lashes to remake herself as Kylie. She does a quite awesome activity and by way of the cease of the video, she doesn’t appearance anything like how did at the begin. You just got to marvel how long the entire method took!

Kylie Jenner & Kim Kardashian Cleavage Snapshots — Their Most up to date Snapshots Inside the period in-between, the actual Kylie continues to make interesting new beauty and style alternatives. On Feb. 11, she appeared at The big apple style Week with a shaggy and edgy lab that we had been in reality passionate about. Slightly a month later, Kylie completely altered her look once more and went the exact opposite route of her NYC hair and showed off her waist period hair on Mar. 7. Now that’s a dramatic trade!

The hair fashion in Hollywood appears to be either wonderful lengthy hair like Kylie’s or Nicki Minaj, 34, who had her going all of the manners to her ankles or critically cropped like Kristen Stewart’s, 26. Even Katy Perry, 32, joined in on the quick hair motion after her smash-up with Orlando Bloom, 40. The track famous person opted for a brand new look with her natural hair peaking via her roots with preserving the rest blonde. Now that’s an exchange!

Korean Warfare: Victory or Defeat

On paper and in records, the Korean Conflict becomes seen as neither a victory or a defeat. A cease heart and peace treaty turned into written among them rather. The battles went on for 3 long years. On July 27, 1953, the 2 sides signed an armistice and a new border was established on a few miles from the unique 1950 border. In my view, the Korean battle/Conflict turned into an achievement in methods apart from the unique goals set through the united states.

The War led to a draw. Each facet agreed to a give up the fire and signed an armistice. The Korean War did no longer lead to a total victory for America or every person else. rather, Both aspects settled for an uneasy peace that still exists to this day at the time of the writing of this text 12-24-15.

Did us enjoy their first defeat? The answer to that query may be more inside the minds of individuals who examine what without a doubt befell and what’s happening nowadays. The way I see it, the give up result has been a victory whilst you evaluate what’s occurring nowadays in South Korea to what turned into happening before the attack, before one of the bloodiest wars our world ever noticed, and in comparison to North Korea nowadays.

Why did the united state’s input this Struggle? Many human beings felt and may even still feel today that us did now not belong there. I’ve heard this myself even in this 12 months of 2015. people grumble pronouncing, “we did no longer belong in Korea.”

I strongly disagree. My very own father turned into one who fought in Korea from 1950 to 1953. He turned into just a younger boy age sixteen coming into the navy at Fortress Knox, Kentucky Military base for a navy profession. He got despatched at once right into a violent and horrific bloody warfare all through a number of the roughest climate everybody ought to ever imagine. He spent plenty of his time there in battles in tanks. Quick undertaking breaks have been spent in Japan.

Considered one of his best memories of direction become the time he becomes wounded seeking to shop any other fellow soldier and did keep him. He could say again and again once more as though elated: “they included me up for useless, but I used to be nevertheless alive.”

This turned into a way accomplished by means of his fellow squaddies by using shifting the tank over his wounded body to hide him from the enemy as he became then pulled up into the tank to await the M.A.S.H. gadgets.

He was taken to a medical institution in Japan wherein they positioned a metal plate in his chest that he had no concept even existed until he observed out he had lung cancer later in lifestyles at age 56. He died of lung most cancers.

The experts stated, “we want to realize greater about this metal plate we located on x-ray for your chest.” Dad did not even understand he had a metal plate. It had to had been located there while within the Korean Warfare at the health center in Japan. He obtained a chest wound. Just think about that, and that I do very frequently now, most effective 16 years vintage playing now beneath a Military tank, not knowing if he might live to tell the tale or no longer.

That may Make You A success Blogger

Blogging is one of the satisfactory things that you could do to pass a while. It can effortlessly increase your information and information on a specific problem. There are so many sorts of blogs like innovative, history and humanities blogs that one could write. For this purpose, there also are many hints and tips that may be used to get your profile raised in the Running a blog enterprise or marketplace. The critical, as well as powerful hints for appropriate Running a blog, have been explained as under.

Get started with a platform

The first actual assignment is choosing a Running a blog platform. There are plenty of options which might be to be had for free like Tumblr, WordPress, Blogger and sort Pad. All of these can offer you free design issues and you can personalize some of these to get your very personal blog started. There also are plenty of tutorials to be had online and you can use them if you are not certain about how exactly to use them.

Do not forget integration

in case you take a look at it from a Search engine optimization factor of view, It may be worth getting your blog integrated with an present internet site which will build the content material and also make the search engines keen on your content. Search engine optimization is all approximately content and which means that you need to focus on this aspect as much as feasible.

Finding a niche

Whilst you are selecting an innovative subject matter for the reason of Blogging, you may have to attempt to best a selected niche. Your weblog has to be approximately something extremely precise and you’ll be able to please both the readers as well as the engines like google. additionally, by no means try to be very preferred and focus on a selected subject matter with a view to specializing in.

Write about something that you love

While you write approximately something that you love, you will experience doing it and you’ll additionally be capable of being true at it. in case you aren’t able to have a positive amount of passion for it, your content material will go through. As a result, continually discover a topic which you are comfortable with and best write content in relation with it

Your Lady friend Says She Wishes to Find Herself – What This indicates for You

Your Female friend says she Needs to Discover herself. It’s one of those difficult things women say that guys cannot fully understand. Does it suggest that she’s just taking a step again from the connection so she will be able to attention on her very own Desires? Is it a signal that she’s so in love with you that she feels she’s dropping her very own identification or is it something else? Regrettably, when a lady says she Desires to Find herself it way she’s being typed in telling you that she’s no longer happy or feeling fulfilled in her relationship with you anymore. If your Lady friend tells you that she Needs some time or space to discern things out, you want to scramble if you have any desire of saving your dating.

whilst your Female friend says she Needs to Locate herself you have to take that declaration very severely. If you tell her that she’s being stupid or overly dramatic, you will harm your connection with her in a very long and lasting manner. She’ll feel that her voice is not being heard and she’ll resent you for now not knowledge her Desires. In turn, her choice to Find herself will cause an eventual breakup and any destiny that you could be planning will by no means take place.

Being thoughtful and compassionate throughout this time will move a long way towards helping her to experience toward you again. If you inform her that you take into account that she Desires to Locate herself, she’ll probably be pleasantly amazed by means of that. She’ll experience reputable and valued as a girl and as a partner. She’ll see you as someone who actually needs the pleasant for her although it would not look like the first-rate factor for yourself.

Encourage her to discover her existence on her personal for a time. Do not mention the idea of a break up at all. Permit her to set the pace for the way long she Desires and the way she makes use of that point. Stay in touch with her while you are exploring your lives one by one. Ask her questions on how she’s doing and what’s happening in her life. Be invested in the one’s conversations and be interested in what she’s feeling.

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