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#and a certain. someone. made it so much worse by dying to every enemy
divatheeva · 1 year
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My wish is…to engulf this world in darkness.
[PMD Explorers spoilers]
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emmyreads · 1 month
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THE SPANISH LOVE DECEPTION !!!
Rating: 5/10
Plots and Tropes: fake relationship, slight enemies to friends to lovers(if you can even call it that), office romance, slowburn, grumpy/sunshine, unrequited love, forced proximity
Short Summary: Catalina (lina) needs a fake date to her sister's wedding in Spain. The reason being, the groom's brother is her ex. That relationship is the reason as to why she has the commitment/trust issues that she has. Catalina's family had been consistently bugging her about whether or not she had a boyfriend. So she decided to lie to her family and agree to bring her "boyfriend" to Spain with her to accompany her to the wedding. And what do you know? Aaron Blackford, her rival coworker, just so happened to offer himself to be her 'fake' date to the wedding.
MAIN CHARACTERS!
Catalina-
Okay so I'm going to be completely honest. I was not the biggest fan of Lina. In the nicest way possible, she is stupid. Almost the entire 400 something pages she acted so oblivious to the way Aaron felt about her. You're telling me he knew everything about Catalina and he HATED her? Be serious. He traveled continents to help her, knew her allergies and favorite foods, helped her work late, knows her favorite coffee place, etc. Aaron was so persistent in being her date to the wedding too, why do you think? Because he hates her? Why would anyone care to help someone they despise? Along with all of this, she was just simply so annoying. She is more than what is 'stubborn', she is petty and tiring to read about, im sorry. Moving on!
Aaron-
So Aaron was a decent character. I don't think there was anything absolutely off-putting about him. He definitely wasn't annoying like Catalina was. Aaron was truly a pretty sweet guy. I think it was kind of odd how much he knew about her, although he had liked her for a long time. It feels somewhat creepy, as if he was watching her creepily from a distance at all times LOL! He was also cringy as shit at times but I feel like at this point its normal. Other than that, there's really not much to say about Aaron.
BEWARE OF THE SPOILERS MENTIONED BELOW!
- Sentences marked with (**) are just thoughts I have about certain scenes in the book.
** The fact that they made out outside of his dying father's hospital room??? YUCK WTF!!
** THE SMUT SCENES?? Some of it was decently written, but there were certain things that he said that made me feel icky. There was a scene she was doubting things and their romance and he just mentioned that she was the one that made him "hard" and that they were "in it together" and that alone just made her want him again? LIKE OKAY!
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** Continuing to talk about the smut, please tell me why Aaron's favorite word seems to be cock! The way he asks if she wanted him to CLAIM it with his COCK. I'm sorry, but no! How come he has to sound so odd in these interactions here like it cannot be this difficult to dirty talk well.
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** "I'll give you the world," he said against my mouth. "The moon. The fucking stars. Anything you ask, it's yours. I'm yours."
- This was one of the only things that genuinely was sweet that I adored in this book. Unfortunate, but true.
- It's kind of sad because I genuinely wanted to love this book. I feel like almost every book coming from "booktok" is either okay or absolute garbage. The books are always incredibly sappy and overdone. Or they are just not enough.
- This book could have definitely been reduced down to at LEAST 300 something pages. There is so much repetition and so many of the plots/tropes are underdone and not written well. I can't deny that there were parts I enjoyed, although it wasn't much. I try to rate books kindly and with the mindset that there is always worse or always better. I rate books also by the way they touch me, if they do at all.
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dumbfinntales · 1 year
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Yesterday I finished God of War: Ragnarök and I have some thoughts. I still have some side content to do, and honestly that’s pretty much the best part of this game. There will be spoilers so don’t read below if you haven’t finished the game. Also this might be a long one.
GOW Ragnarök is a frustrating game. I loved GOW 2018 and it was nearly a 10/10 title, but had some hiccups. I wanted Ragnarök to be the better version, the better game. What makes it frustrating is that it’s both better AND worse. I have never seen a game take so many steps forwards and backwards at the same time. But to start out positive I’ll say what I loved and what they improved upon.
Most obviously: the enemy variety and bosses. 2018 title had a severe lack of enemies and unique bosses, but Ragnarök delivers in spades. There are so many unique encounters and cool mythological beasts to fight. I do wish they didn’t use the Nightmare enemies so much in encounters, but eh, still. The bosses are really fun to fight and are spectacles to behold. I’m also happy to say that the final boss was actually really good this time around! You do battle a certain thunder god at the end, but you end the game with an encounter with the Allfather.
More weapons! Although we only got one new weapon it was still awesome. The Dreipnir spear was so much fun to use and now that Kratos has 3 unique weapons in his arsenal it made the combat feel so good and smooth. There were few new additions to the combat, but it felt as great as ever! I liked the new elemental system, it added a nice spice to the combat.
The exploration and side content are amazing once again and offer small story lines and wonderful character interactions. There’s just something absolutely comfy about going on an adventure to loot some ruins and solve some puzzles while the characters talk among themselves and tell tales. This might sound cheesy, but at times it almost feels like I’m there in the boat listening to their stories.
And of course the characters themselves! Most of them are so wonderfully written and I especially loved Sindri and Brok. I mean they were already great back in 2018, but they’re only better here. All the characters feel like people and some of their interactions are very humorous. Although I have to admit that at times their little “quips” become tedious to listen to. And some jokes are just plain awful, like Sindri trying to come up with a nickname for Atreus and audibly goes “Ugh that was such a bad nickname, sorry Lok’! Oh that one was bad too”.
It all seems fine and dandy, right? Well here comes the frustrating bit. For every good thing and improvement the game does there is something else to drag it down. Let me tell you this, God of War Ragnarök is not a 10/10. Not even a 9/10. There’s just too much shit that drags it down to deserve that, and I hope to GOD that it doesn’t win Game of the Year. I want Elden Ring to take that title because I want the gaming industry to see what kind of games we ought to get. It’s not the end of the world if GOW wins, but by god I’ll dread the future of triple A games.
My biggest gripe of all, this game is designed for idiots. I’m not being patronizing or joking, but the handholding is out of this world. Characters yell out the most obvious shit and constantly ruin puzzle by yelling out the answer for you. In the boss fight with Nidhogg Freya yells directions at you NON-STOP. “Do this” and “do that”, “avoid this attack”, “don’t stand there”, “shield up!” by Christ almighty shut the fuck up. Imagine having someone in real life backseat your every move and you can’t shut them up. That’s this game.
Many bosses are also trivialized since they drop so much HP (could be due to my difficulty as well, but dunno) and if you die you’ll start with full HP while the boss might be at half. There’s no punishment for dying. This game feels like its designed for a very specific kind of person who doesn’t play that many games and just wants to be along for the “ride”.
Another major gripe I have is just how slow this game is. There are more slow walking sections and they’re even longer. There are moments like climbing the Asgard wall or walking around with Odin that could just have been a cut-scene. The Atreus sections just suck. They’re far too long (fuck the forest level with Angrboda) and the combat as Atreus is so limited compared to Kratos. The first time you play as Atreus was perfect! It wasn’t too long and was a nice change of pace. Stretching that to 2 hours of gameplay is insane. Also is it just me, but is there a lot more of those climbing sections in this game? It feels no matter where I go I either have to crawl, climb on a wall or slowly creep through a narrow space which all halt the games pace to a crawl.
This is a personal gripe, but most of the Norse gods feel like wet noodles. The Greek gods had a presence, that of might and glory. Here they’re just some dudes. Odin wasn’t exactly what I expected and what the hell is Freyr even? Sure he’s amusing with his nonchalant party goer attitude, but he’s supposed be a god? Freya herself is also supposed to be a god, but honestly feels like just some lady that knows magic. I only really liked Thor and Heimdall. Thor had the power and presence of a god while also slightly humanized, and Heimdall had the arrogant bluster of a Greek god.
I also feel like the ending felt odd. The whole “ragnarök” thing came and went and didn’t feel as climactic as I expect from a literal apocalypse. I also don’t get Sindri at all. I understand being broken by your brothers death, but he now holds a grudge on Kratos and Atreus due to something no one saw coming. Sindri blames them for his brothers death, even though it was indirect. I don’t know, but it left a sour taste in my mouth. The ending is very open so maybe we’ll see some future GOW titles.
But yeah, this ended up being very long. But I had a lot to say. My final verdict is, it’s a fun game. But it has so much holding it back. Far more than the 2018 title. If you asked me which one I’d rather replay I’d say the previous game. It has its flaws, but they’re not as numerous as here. I was so hoping that Ragnarok was the better title, but alas. This game gets a MAYBE YOU SHOULD HIT THE GLOWING THING UP THERE TO SOLVE THE PUZZLE out of ten.
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stxleslyds · 3 years
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Also, the writers' failure to understand, every crime Jason committed had a motive. Attack other criminals? Holy warrior destined to purify the world of evil. Attack Bruce? Joker's still alive. (Oh, Jason, it's much worse than that.) Attack Tim? A parody of what he once was. He wasn't just a "bad boy". He was dangerously insane.
Hi, Anon! Yup, there seems to be a lot of things that writers have gotten confused about Jason Todd/Red Hood and the biggest one is his motivations to kill certain criminals.
Let’s be honest, Judd Winick set a golden path for the upcoming Red Hood writers. But each and every writer that used Red Hood in their stories completely missed the point of Jason’s character. All of them. It’s so incredibly wild to me that every other writer read UtRH and came up with whichever version of Jason they came up with.
Let’s list the writers that completely missed the point.
Geoff Johns in Teen Titans vol.3 #29.
Geoff Johns was one of the first to completely mischaracterize Jason, why on earth would Jason go to the Titans Tower to beat up Tim? This is not me saying that Jason would never do that because Jason thinks of Tim as his brother or a friend or the person that he can trust the most from the Bat-Clan (can you believe Lobdell tried to sell us that one?), this is me saying that Jason wouldn’t have done that because he couldn’t have given less of a fuck about Tim’s existence.
When Jason found out that Bruce had another Robin he wasn’t bothered by his “replacement” he was mad at Bruce for having another child playing hero after he lost his life as a fifteen-year-old. Jason didn’t even think of Tim as his replacement as fandom likes to make us believe, Jason called Tim “pretender”. And that was that, but to go from minimal recognition to go out of his way to beat him up at Titans Tower is a massive mischaracterization.
Paul Dini in Countdown (to Final Crisis).
Paul Dini in Countdown did absolutely nothing with Jason, I am sorry but that’s all he did. Him writing Jason was like watching a dog trying to catch their own tail. He started with a pretty basic take on UtRH Jason, then he added a bit of Jason being an annoying man with Donna, then we had the jealousy arc because apparently, Jason had the hots for Donna but she didn’t want anything to do with him and he was all angsty when she paid attention to Kyle instead of him, and then, later on, he had that whole Red Robin bullshit (I am sorry about this, but I absolutely hated that, it was so dumb, I am so glad it didn’t last long because it was just too bad), and after all that mix of just not interesting stuff he went right back to the Jason that he had at the very start. It was a waste of time, but I guess that he had to be there because he was an anomaly and all that. I just think that was DC’s first try at making Jason Todd/Red Hood something more than just a street-level vigilante and they failed miserably.
Tony S. Daniel in Batman: Battle for the Cowl.
Even though the first two did make mistakes with Jason’s characterizations, this man was the first to just throw UtRH out of the window and make up his very own version of Jason Todd. And his version was horrendous, that Jason had no problem with attempting to kill children and innocent people, he also really wanted to be Batman because Gotham needed a Batman and he wanted to be the person to wear the Cowl and he was looking for a Robin for himself.
I know, the whole concept is the perfect opposite of what Jason Todd and Red Hood were in UtRH. Every aspect of BftC Jason is based on nothing.
Jason wanting to be Batman because Gotham needed Batman is just the beginning of what’s wrong in this book. Jason became the Red Hood (in part) because he believed that Batman and his ways weren’t what Gotham needed so he made a better version of Batman with Red Hood (according to him) because Red Hood did what Batman refused to do. Another thing that is just wrong is Jason wanting, Damian, Tim or Dick to be his Robin, there is just so much wrong with this, first of all, Jason wanted Batman to stop having Robin because child soldiers ran the risk of dying at a very young age and that’s exactly how he saw the whole thing because that was what had happened to him. Second, if Jason was mad at Bruce for getting another Robin why would he now want one of his own to team up with his Batman? Damian was a child, Tim was someone that apparently Jason hated (because Jason beating Tim was mentioned in this event), and then Jason actually asked Dick Grayson, Nightwing, to be his Robin? Listen, there is no way that was Jason, nothing about him makes sense, even taking into account that Jason had beaten Tim already in this event Jason actually tried to kill both Tim and Damian (it might have been just one of them but yeah, it still doesn’t make sense).
I just don’t think that Tony S. Daniel knew who Jason Todd was, maybe he got confused but the thing is, his “villainous” and deranged version of Jason Todd allowed a villainous and deranged version of Red Hood to happen with the next writer that I will be talking about.
Grant Morrison in Batman and Robin vol.1 #3-6.
This was the birth of the villainous, deranged and bloodthirsty Red Hood. There is absolutely no trace of UtRH Jason here, not even if we are looking at the opposite of things like we could do with Daniel’s Jason. Grant Morrison wanted Dick and Damian to have a villain to match their Batman and Robin and they decided to give us a red-haired-pill-headed-red hood. Everything from Morrison’s characterization of Jason is crazy, from the red hair (hello pre-crisis) to the awful Joker’s Red Hood looking suit, everything was just weird.
I still don’t believe that was Jason, to be honest, I would rather think that version of Jason was actually a rouge Skrull that came all the way from the Marvel Universe and lost his way in Gotham City. Maybe when he made the jump between universes, he got too much information and got confused and took the form of the wonkiest Jason Todd he could come up with.
This Jason was absolutely deranged, he knew exactly what he was doing and he didn’t care if innocents died. This Jason was the one that got locked up in Arkham. This is the Jason that Dick put in Arkham for Jason and everybody else’s safety.
Dick putting that Jason in Arkham wasn’t a bad thing or something that anyone can use to shit on Dick Grayson (not on this house). This Arkham was reformed and that Jason knew that if he stayed in that new Arkham he would stay away from trouble, but here is the thing, that Jason loved trouble, so he took all the tests to prove he wasn’t insane and asked to be transferred to Blackgate (where all the Red Hood’s enemies were). That Jason didn’t ask to be sent to Blackgate because the Joker was a cell away from his in Arkham, he did it so he could go on a killing spree in Blackgate (which he did when he got there).
Skrull Jason was just bloodthirsty and nothing like UtRH Jason, he had no motive other than just killing for fun or whatever. He didn’t want to protect Gotham and he couldn’t have cared less about the drug trade in Gotham. In Batman and Robin vol.1. Jason Todd was unrecognizable. And luckily, we never saw him again.
Scott Lobdell in Everything that he ever wrote about Red Hood.
This one is pretty self-explanatory. Lobdell was the king of overpowering Jason, he was the one that drove Red Hood farther and farther away from his street-level vigilante status. He continuously added more to him, he was a big deal because he was meant to take down Ra’s al Ghul, he was a big deal because he was the only human to train in the All-Castle and learned to summon the All-Blades.
This Red Hood’s morals and ideals were kind of gone, there just wasn’t any kind of interest in Jason to get rid of drugs or try to control its trade in Gotham, he just had no interest in street-level threats, everything was extraordinary in both New 52 and Rebirth. If he wasn’t in space he was in some mystical land. His friends and allies became even more and more powerful, his level of power was completely off compared to the others. His personality was ever-changing and quite honestly you could barely see the Jason that he once was.
This Jason also was very inconsistent in the way that he felt towards people (obviously because Lobdell is a shitty writer), he wanted to follow Batman’s rules and was shown as someone that still had fond memories of his life with Bruce before he died but was also willing to let those memories go, to move on? Maybe? I don’t know. But he changed his mind about Bruce and following his rules or not for a very long time. Jason was also a little bitch about Dick, and he was a little bitch because he (Lobdell) never gave the reader or anyone a concrete reason as to why he hated him so much and then in Rebirth he decided that Dick wasn’t that bad. Also, Jason went from “Willis Todd, abusive husband and father that deserved to die” to “Willis Todd abusive husband and father but he sent me letters when he was in prison and Penguin had him killed so now, I really want to avenge him”. Yeah, I don’t really know why that happened and like most of Lobdell’s arcs and stuff it was never really completed or well thought out.
Lobdell’s Jason characterization was a mess for ten years and that’s the prime reason why Jason is a character with no solid background, story or future.
James Tynion IV in Red Hood and the Outlaws.
Tynion’s Jason Todd was a hero, he was like a mini Tom King Batman. Everything he did was right and there was just no way that you could bamboozle him. This Jason was able to hold to Blades that drained his soul as well as hosting the Untitled in his body (that were able to drain his soul too) and on top of all that he completed his journey of the Chosen One by making those ancient martial arts moves that he learned before he was Robin even though Talia hadn’t been able to master it yet.
Scott Snyder, Tim Seeley in Batman Eternal and Batman and Robin Eternal.
A mess, this was pure New 52 levels of bullshit and they all just wanted to push the “Batfamily” and while Dick was gone, they were trying to make Jason fill the void that Dick left in Batman events. It didn’t work at all and all they did was mess around with Jason’s characterization more.
Geoff Johns in Three Jokers.
I have talked enough about Johns’ takes on Jason Todd and Red Hood, but let me tell you something real quick, if a writer thinks that the best they can do with a character is make them give up their morals/ideals for an unrequited love interest, then they can keep that idea for themselves. Geoff Johns wrote a book that was absolutely not needed and then proceeded to butcher every characterization that he could, Three Jokers was three issues long and he managed to add more trauma to Jason’s torture, push the narrative of Jason being at fault for his own murder and make Jason’s motivations to be the Red Hood weak enough to make him want to give up his work for a woman that he barely knows (and doesn’t like him at all).
Joshua Williamson in Future State: Red Hood and Robin #5.
Now, with Williamson I have issues only when he writes Jason, not because his stories are bad, don’t get me wrong, I would have completely enjoyed FS: Red Hood if it weren’t for the completely unnecessary Rose/Jason side plot he had going on. Jason was clearly working undercover for some people that he hated working with. He had to arrest or kill “masks” (vigilantes, just like he “used” to be) for the Magistrate.
His ideas were pretty solid, Jason did the job but he never killed the masks and actively didn’t trust the Magistrate but he was working there to tear them apart from within, and that’s amazing if Williamson had given us Jason Todd/Red Hood working undercover to dismantle an organization I would have been really happy.
But that’s not all he gave us, even if I just forget about his failed attempt at giving Jason a relationship, I can still see that Williamson is the kind of writer that wants (or is just following DC) to make the “Batfamily” happen no matter how dumb and out of place it looks in comics’ canon. So, I am a little bit weary, any writer that leans too much towards making Jason and Bruce work together and become a family makes me want to scream, but I do understand that is just me, many people want those two to be buddy-buddy, I, personally, would love to see Jason kick Bruce in the balls and tell him to lose his number.
Chip Zdarsky in Urban Legends: Cheer.
Ah, yes, I remember the days in which I thought that this could have been something good. Well, I was utterly wrong and I suffered all the way through this mini. I feel like now I can safely say that Zdarsky only wanted to write a Batman book but DC told him, “Hey you can write Batman but it has to be within a Red Hood story, but don’t worry, you don’t have to know much about the Hood guy, just come up with something and write Batman around that”.
I know that’s what happened because I read that story and all we got from it was horrible characterizations for pre-Robin Jason, Robin Jason, Jason Todd and Red Hood. I don’t know how he did it but yes, he managed to mess it all up.
From Jason not really wanting to be Robin and acting recklessly every step of the way, to secret desires of a perfect family with Bruce and so many other people that he couldn’t care about, Urban Legends: Cheer is the perfect book to avoid at all costs if you believe that the concept of “Batfamily” is the biggest lie, DC is trying to profit off this time around.
Zdarsky also nerfed Jason in ways that I thought DC only wanted to nerf Dick Grayson. But I was able to see that I was wrong. Zdarsky’s run also pushed some of the most disastrous narratives that DC really wants readers to believe like: Robin Jason wasn’t good at his job, he was too reckless and ultimately his death was his own fault. Yay! I want to cry!
I will give Zdarsky two points for at the very least showing that Red Hood wants to protect children and that he has a huge issue with how the drug trade is controlled and abused in Gotham City, it had been a while since we had seen that aspect of Jason’s Red Hood make an appearance.
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It’s just too many writers completely missing the point of Red Hood’s character or simply writers agreeing to destroy Jason’s uniqueness in the DC Universe so DC (as the publisher) can further push the abomination that is the “Batfamily” in comics’ canon.
I do agree with you Anon when you say that Jason isn’t just a “bad boy” but I also don’t think that we can call UtRH Jason “dangerously insane”. Personally, I will only use that last description for BftC and Batman and Robin Jason, those two were dangerously insane indeed.
UtRH Jason was very meticulous in who he wanted dead and who got to live. He entered Gotham’s most dangerous world and he had to make a big entrance, he invited the eight most prosperous street dealers to a meeting, showed up with the decapitated heads of each of their right-hand men and an AK-47 and said:
“I am offering you a deal. I will be running the drug trade from now on. You will go about your business as usual. You will kick up forty percent to me. That is a much better deal than the Black Mask will give you. In return, you will have total protection from both the Black Mask and Batman. The catch? You stay away from kids and schoolyards. No dealing to children, got it? If you do, you’re dead.”
This was Red Hood! Red Hood wanted to control the drug trade in Gotham because he knew that Gotham is far too corrupt and filled with drug lords for him to just want to eradicate drugs from Gotham. If he had tried that he would have been a dumbass, but he wasn’t. He didn’t want to start a gang war and get innocent people killed because of it, he wanted to set the rules of his new Empire and he had to start with the street-level drug dealers, from there he grew until he became a major pain in Black Mask’s ass.
We went from Jason wanting to control the drug trade and take over Gotham’s underworld so people like Black mask couldn’t have people work for him (or being dependent on him) when they were still in high school or were in a vulnerable position, to Jason fighting a war for a mystic land because he was their “Chosen One”. DC really wanted to do something grand (yet boring) with Jason instead of sticking to a street-level vigilante that could have become a Drug Lord to control the drug trade of a city that is so filled with crime and corruption that it can’t be saved by anyone.
Batman doesn’t eradicate crime, he “controls” it, puts a blank it over it, lets it nap up until it wakes up once more to make more mess.
Red Hood had other plans, certain criminals didn’t get to nap, or, better said, they would get to nap forever.
So, no. I wouldn’t call that “dangerously insane”, I will call that “vigilante that believes himself judge, jury and executioner” of a city that is drowning in crime and corruption.
Anyway, I hope you have a really nice week Anon and thank you so much for sending me this ask!
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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years
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Revenge, and a little more. 🔪💔
♥ YANDERE REACTIONS: How would Mikaela Hyakuya, Run and Izuku Midorya react to their darling cheating on them and then leaving them for that person? Darling became fed up with her yanderes obsessive behaviour and decided to take matters in to her own hands... But, that didn't turn out so well now, did it?
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Poor Mikaela, he'd be absolutely heartbroken... How could this happen, how could you do this to him?! He is beyond himself, he has no idea what to do. He blames both himself and the man that stole you away from him. It is his responsibility to take care of you, to nurture you, to protect you, to love you and he... he failed. He couldn't keep you by his side so you took your chance and ran off with that scum.
That disgusting human was going to pay for his sins. Mikaela would make sure of it. No one in this world could be trusted, for goodness sake humans could be even worse than vampires in certain cases. Mikaela's worry nearly consumed him whole as he searched for you, day and night, with little to no rest. You couldn't have gotten far away, there were just too many monsters crawling around... among other things. He hoped neither the vampires or the humans got to you as both sides would have caused your untimely doom. The vampires would just kill you on the spot, while the humans would lock you away and experiment on you for the rest of your days. Those horrid thoughts made Mikaela sick to his stomach...
...God however, seemed to be by his side today.
As he was out looking for you, he suddenly caught a whiff of a very familar scent in the air. Judging by its intensity, you were close. Without much to lose, Mikaela followed the scent until he finally reached the source of it. There you were, sitting on a large rock as your hand bled, a deep gash visible through the fabric of your clothing. Mikaela had to stop himself from pouncing on you right there and then - good grief, you smelled heavenly... It took all of Mikaela willpower to not take that delicate little neck of yours in his hands and to just feast on your divine blood. He suddenly smelled something, or rather someone else too. A man stepped out of a nearby building and that was when Mikaela just lost it. Who does this man think he is? You could have gotten killed at any moment, he left you to bleed right there on the streets and to top it all off the sun was going down. The stupidity of this man baffled Mikaela but his anger was what drove him over the edge.
With a shout, Mikaela raised his sword and charged at the man, giving him no time to prepare for the upcoming strike. Mikaela was brutal, showing no mercy to his enemy. He slashed and slashed, the mans blood spilling all over the young vampire. He didn't care that you were crying at that moment, he didn't care if anyone saw him... All he wanted was for this nuisance to just disappear already, so that Mikaela could finally take you back home and fix you up... And give you a reminder of just how dangerous the world really was.
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A strange tang of incredibly sharp pain pierced Run's heart unlike anything he had ever felt before. In his hands was a note but it was not your handwriting. The content of the letter shook Run to the core - it was a note from your new so called lover, claiming that the two of you had run off somewhere, far away from Run's grasp. The man in question was most likely one of the guards you saw daily, but there were so many of them, one might think that finding the culprit would be nearly impossible.
Not for Run though. No, if it came down to you nothing was too difficult for him.
Having a imperial arms already gave Run a significant advantage over his opponent but him being a Jaeger only made things even more easy for him. Run is determined to find you, no matter the cost. He knows for a fact that in your little escape attempt that you had slipped up somewhere and he was going to discover that slip up in just a few hours. Run is high on adrenaline but he manages to keep it together as he talks to several witnesses, all of which claimed to saw a young woman fitting your description, along with an unknown man running off somewhere. In a little less then a day, Run had gathered all the information that he needed and he went out looking for you. With his wings spread high, he flew in the night sky as he searched for you, his heart nearly suffocating him from the seemingly endless worry. You always left him feeling breathless, no matter if it was good or bad...
Not too long after he took off, he finally saw something beneath him - two people holding hands and running, both of their heads were hooded. Run was too far up in the sky in the sky to tell who it was but upon a closer look he sighed a breath of relief. There you were, all dirtied and nervous as you clutched the mans hand tightly. Your paranoia was adorably obvious as you continued to look around left and right, most likely trying to keep an eye out for any danger beast that might be crawling around.
That proved to be a fatal mistake because at that moment, wild danger beasts should be the least of your concerns.
In a flash, your new lover suddenly just dropped dead on to the ground, a pool of crimson blood forming on the ground. You shrieked loudly as you tried to wake him up, your fear increasing even more. You noticed that there was a small hole at the back of his head and without even thinking, you turned around and were already pinned to the ground. Run held your wrists tightly as you trembled beneath him, his sad facial expression contradicting his actions. Heaven's sake, you could have sworn that he was going to break both of your wrists until he brought you closer to himself, his arms wrapping themselves tightly around your waist. Run stared down at the corpse beneath him, knowing full well where he hit the man. He had not died yet surprisingly, but Run wanted it that way. This man was going to spend his final moments watching you being brought back home, all the while he was dying slowly and painfully.
A fitting punishemt for a thief like this, wouldn't you agree dear?
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Izuku was shaking at the sight before him - across the street was the love of his life, in the arms of another man as the two happily exchanged kisses as if it was the most normal thing in the world. His vision soon became blurry because in mere seconds, an endless stream of tears started to cascade down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy, his throat dry as a desert. He felt so sick, so incredibly sick that he might just lose his lunch right there and then. His knees gave in and he was no longer able to stand on his own two feet. All he could do was watch from afar as this stranger took his darling away to who knows where. The sharp, inhumane wave of pain hit him out of nowhere as his vision soon became filled with black spots.
How could this have happened?
Was he not good enough for you?!
Why didn't you love him anymore!?
Why, why, WHY?!? WHY WAS THIS HAPPENING?! You two had the perfect romance - he was your hero and you were his princess! But his delusion was shattered to pieces and it broke Izuku's heart. However, even throught this entire ordeal he still continues to push his belief that you do love him and that none of this is your fault! Oh no, no, it's all his fault! The bastard he just saw you with, he must be blackmailing you in some way! He forced you away from Izuku and now you have to fake everything you do, oh you poor thing!
But don't worry love, your brave hero will be there to save the day!
Izuku always prided himself on his stealth skills and they were proven to be very useful in this situation. He stayed hidden in the shadows and he watched your every move, waiting for the perfect time to pounce. He gatherd all the information he needed in just a few days and orchestrated the perfect plan - at night when your "lover" was heading out to the store, Izuku may or may not have pushed him in to a sketchy alleyway. The attack was so sudden and strong, the poor man didn't stand a chance. Izuku continued to beat him until he was covered with blood from head to toe, his clothes pretty much sticking on to his body. A sick but satisfied smile made its way on his face as he walked towards the apartment you were staying at. Izuku didn't even bother with the clean up, but he made sure to at least cover up his tracks to make sure that no one could trace back anything to him. This bastard deserved this, it was his own fault for taking away Izuku's darling! Tonight though, the two lovers would finally be reunited!
Isn't that just the perfect ending? ♡
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Text
Kakashi Week Day 3: Bleeding Out
Gift For: @alumort
For You
@kakashiweek
Words: 2195
Warnings: Blood Tw, Near Death experience.
Pairing: Kakagai (can be read as platonic or romantic. it's up to the reader)
The battlefield is a blur. Even Obito’s sharingan struggles to keep up with the speed of all of the enemy’s movements, just barely giving Kakashi the information he needs to dodge an attack or to strike at the perfect moment.
Winning feels like an impossible task, but he continues moving. This wasn’t a fight that he was willing to lose easily.
Not when Gai’s life was on the line.
“Nice try!” Hearing a triumphant call from his best friend, Kakashi risked a glance. A moment to check-in and make sure that everything was alright, and just in time to see Gai planting his foot into the enemy’s face. Sending him stumbling back with a bloody, most likely very broken, nose. “It will take more than that for-”
The rest of Gai’s words faded into the background when Obito’s eye locked onto an incoming attack. The sight of sharp steel gleaming in the sunlight made his blood run cold, and the target was clear.
Gai.
Kakashi’s body moved without thought. Kunai coming up to guard against the incoming attack. To protect Gai, no matter what. That was his goal. The only goal that mattered at this moment.
Steel clashed, a struggle for victory between Tanto and Kunai while Kakashi stared down his enemy. It didn't take long for the victor to be decided, and unfortunately for Kakashi, this one wasn’t his battle to win. Feeling his hand giving out, he watched as the Kunai was flung off to the side. Decoration for the dirt until the battle was done.
The enemy’s speed didn’t give even for a second. His eye followed the tanto as the enemy pulled it back, leaving his body to react on instinct rather than logic. Lightning sparked in his hand, a desperate last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his friend.
The warmth of fresh blood is a feeling that’s all too familiar to Kakashi. The way it drips from his fingers, staining his hand the same as every shinobi who has met their end on Kakashi’s chidori.
The coldness though, that’s a feeling he doesn’t experience a lot.
A feeling that could only be compared to being thrown headfirst into a frozen river, his fingers ache when he tries to move them. The warm blood provided no relief to the sheer cold that settled into his bones.
“I won’t allow y-you-” His words faltered, sharp pain in his own chest suddenly making its presence known. Lowering his eyes, he stared down at his enemies’ tanto. Cold steel buried deep inside of his chest, mirroring his own attack against the enemy.
There’s no response to his words, and when he risks a glance upward he can see why. The only thing keeping the enemy’s body up is Kakashi’s hand. A limb struck through a now lifeless body, refusing to allow it to crumple to the ground.
At least if he died here he could say he wasn’t the first one to fall.
Removing his hand carefully, he ignored the slight tremble in his fingers. A response to the memories that came with the attack. No longer being held up by Kakashi, the enemy’s body crumpled to the ground. Lifeless and forgotten in favour of the much more pressing matter of his own wound.
“Kakashi?” Gai’s back pressing against his is another familiar feeling, though a lot more comforting than any of the other ones he had experienced in the last few minutes. “I appreciate the protection, and I’d appreciate it a lot more if you told me that you were uninjured.”
Just like Gai. Always worried about Kakashi when he needed to focus on the battle, not that Kakashi was any better. After all, it was his worry for Gai that had landed him in this position.
“Tell me you can keep fighting,” The voice behind him grew distant. As if Gai was moving away from him, even though Kakashi knew that wasn’t possible. Not when he could still feel Gai’s back pressed up against his. Protecting him from an attack from behind. “Kakashi-”
“Don’t think-” the wound in his chest ached. A pain that he was far too familiar with, but was also somehow ten times worse than he had ever experienced before. “Might need to, fight alone. Sorry.”
His knees gave out suddenly, sending him crashing to the ground as the cold that had burrowed its way into his bones just moments ago disappeared suddenly along with the sound of Gai’s voice. He’s certain that he should feel the moment that his body collides with the ground, but the only thing that he registers is the distant sound of fighting. Fists colliding with flesh and nunchucks deflecting Kunai and Tantos.
Laying there on his side, he watched as feet rushed past him. The fight continued as he lay there, surrounded by silence and feeling nothing except a deep numbness that could only be attributed to blood loss.
This was where he was going to die. A cold body on the ground, unable to do anything while his best friend fought for his life, and yet he couldn’t find it in him to be sad. At the end of the day, he died protecting Gai. Gave his friend another chance to win the fight and complete the mission.
To get home alive.
It was a fitting death, and as the world around him slowly started to fade away he couldn’t help but allow a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.
Waiting was always the hardest part. No matter how much people talked about the pain of seeing someone they care about injured or watching them slowly dying in front of them, it was not knowing that hurt the most.
Wondering if this was going to end with another funeral.
Another goodbye.
Or if somehow he had managed to make it on time. If his feet had moved just fast enough, carrying him home just in time to save his best friend from otherwise certain death.
Staring at the door that Tsunade-sama had disappeared behind with Kakashi, he waited. The only thing keeping him in his seat is the constant reminder of who it is behind those doors.
Hatake Kakashi.
His eternal rival and best friend.
A wound like this would not be Kakashi’s end. It couldn’t be. There was still so much that they had to do together. Challenges that Gai hadn’t even thought up yet, and festivals for them to enjoy together.
“Gai-Sensei?” Dragging his eyes away from the door, he focused on the pink-haired Chunin who had just arrived, her hands held timidly in front of her chest. “Shizune said-Is Kakashi-Sensei.”
Shoving all of his feelings aside, Gai smiled at Sakura. A bright confident smile, followed by his signature thumbs up.
“Kakashi will be fine,” he assured her. “He’s Kakashi. He’s not one to give up easily. Besides, Tsunade-sama is looking after him. She is not known as the best medical ninja in all of the lands for nothing.”
If anyone could save Kakashi, it was Tsunade-sama.
“Good,” lowering her hands, Sakura glanced towards the door. “Captain Yamato is keeping Naruto distracted. When Shizune gave us the news he said it was best if Naruto didn’t find out until- well…”
It made sense. Yamato was always level-headed, even in times of great stress. There was no doubt in Gai’s mind that he was concerned about his Senpai’s current condition, but he knew when his attention was needed elsewhere, and when it came to Naruto it was best to keep him in the dark. If he found out what had happened-
Hearing a door opening, Gai pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked back over at the door he had spent the last four hours staring at. The first thing he noticed was all of the blood that now stained Tsunade-sama’s hands.
Kakashi’s blood.
“Gai, focus,” Tsunade-sama ordered, sighing when Gai diverted his eyes. Ashamed of himself for thinking of the worst before she could even get a word out. “Kakashi is fine. It took a bit of work, and there was some damage to his right lung, but he pulled through.”
Hours of worry melted away. His body released all of the tension that had been building up while he sat there waiting, hoping that Kakashi would be alright. That he hadn’t been too late.
“C-can i…”
“He won’t be awake for a while,” Nodding he waited for her to continue. “But, once we have him in a better room to rest and recover, you can sit with him. Though I do suggest we keep guests at a minimum. Sakura, can I trust you to make sure the room doesn’t get too crowded?”
“I’ll make sure Naruto stays out,” Sakura confirmed, a smile on her face when Gai looked back at her. “Team Kakashi can wait to see him. As long as we know he’s alright, we’ll be fine. You should be the first person he sees when he wakes up.”
“Thank you.” with that decided, Gai turned back to Tsunade-sama. “What room is he going to be in?”
“34,” she held out an arm, pointing towards the hallway with her hand. “I’m sure you know the way.”
That was an understatement. After all of the visits he had made over the years, between Kakashi, his old teammates, and his own student’s injuries, he could now walk the hallways with his eyes closed.
A challenge he may take upon himself another day. When there was a little more energy, and a lot less worry, in his soul.
The smell of cleanliness is the first thing Kakashi registers when his mind starts to swim towards consciousness. A smell that he knows all too well. Has spent too much time around not to recognize it as soon as it hits his nose.
The hospital.
If he were dead, he wouldn’t smell the hospital. There was no way that whatever afterlife there might be, that it would smell like a hospital. That would be the worst way to introduce someone to death.
Which meant only one thing.
“Gai,” he spoke without thought, already knowing that his best friend was there by his side. “How…”
“Are you really doubting my resolve right now, Rival?” he longs to open his eyes. To see that blinding smile that he knows is on Gai’s face at this moment, waiting to welcome him back into the world of the living. It’s too much though. There’s too little energy in his body to even manage that one small gesture. “Tsunade-sama said that it would take a while for you to recover. The enemy’s sword did a lot of damage. It even hit your lung.”
That explained why it was a little difficult for him to breathe. Tsunade-sama must have had a hell of a time trying to save him this time, and there was no doubt she had a lecture already brewing for him when he woke up again.
Speaking of lectures.
“I don’t regret it.”
“I know.”
“But you’re mad.”
Silence settles over the small room. Not a word was spoken, or a muscle moved. The two of them just sit there, wondering what to do next. How to continue a conversation that neither one of them wanted to have.
“You almost died.”
“For you,” he’s surprised by how easily those words leave his mouth. Words he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else, for fear of the reaction that they might give. “And I'd do it again.”
He expects anger, perhaps disappointment. A reminder of how precious his life is, and how Gai can’t stand the thought of having to bury him. Being forced to say goodbye when they had so much life to live.
Instead, his ears are greeted with laughter.
Bright, beautiful laughter. The kind of sound that makes his heart flutter, and gives him the energy he had been missing just minutes ago. Cracking his right eye open, he turned his face to the left and stared at Gai. Watching as his best friend shut his eyes and threw his head back, his laughter growing louder with each passing second.
A sound Kakashi would gladly listen to for the rest of the day.
The sound of life.
“Don’t you dare,” he’s surprised by the words, not because he doesn’t expect Gai to say them but because of the way they’re said? With so much joy and kindness that Kakashi’s certain his friend has lost his sanity. “You’re not allowed to die, Kakashi.”
“Mmm, is that so?” Relaxing back into the bed, he chuckled to himself. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m apparently too stubborn to die then.”
It would take a stronger enemy to take Kakashi out, and he was alright with that.
As much as he didn’t mind the thought of dying to protect Gai, he was much more fond of living. There were still so many contests for them to have and so many opportunities for him to get under Gai’s skin.
“For you,” he whispered once more, a tender smile pulling at his lips when he felt a hand rest on his arm. “I’ll fight to live.”
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megsironthrone · 3 years
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Meg's Game of Tales: Tale 8
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*Familiar characters are NOT mine! The original story of "The Swan Princess" is actually pretty muddled as far as origin, but it appears to be based off a Swedish or German fairy-tale*
Warnings: Swan Princess AU, angst, violence?, a little fluff. Kind of long.
Pairings: Viserys Targaryen x fem!reader
"Are you excited, Brother?" a young Daenerys asked Viserys as they waited once more for the yearly visit from your family. "For what? Another summer with that little brat? Not exactly my idea of fun, Little Sister." Daenerys rolled her eyes. Viserys was always like this when the summer rolled around. He hated not getting his way and never once had he gotten his way when it came to you and your family.
"Well I like Y/N. I can't wait for her to become my sister." A frown made its way to Viserys' face. He despised being reminded of the arrangement between your kingdoms. You and Viserys had been arranged to wed practically from birth. In order to make the idea more "bearable", your parents along with Viserys' decided that you and Viserys would spend EVERY SINGLE SUMMER together. And this particular summer would be the last before the wedding planning would begin. Needless to say, Viserys was not looking forward to it at all.
Growing up, Viserys had found you annoying. You were always trying inject yourself into everything he did. No matter what Viserys was doing outside of his own bedroom/bath chambers, you were there. He never knew if you were simply trying to bother him or if you were trying to get to know him the way your parents wanted you to. And as you grew older, you became close to the guards and other servants in the palace. You were constantly talking to them when Viserys wouldn't talk to you. It was almost like you were flirting with them. Viserys hated it and he grew to hate summers.
The sound of trotting horses reached Viserys' ears and soon enough, the carriage appeared. After a soft scolding from his mother, Viserys straightened up to his full height and he tried not to run as far away as possible. That usual feeling of annoyance and dread began to fill up his stomach while Daenerys chatted away. If she kept it up, Viserys was certain he'd box her ears.
When the carriage pulled to a stop, Viserys held his breath. Your father was the first to step out, offering his hand to someone inside. Viserys was struck dumb when he saw you step down from the carriage, smiling at your father. There was absolutely no way this was the same person that visited him every summer. How had he not noticed how beautiful you'd become?
Your eyes met his and you held your head high as you approached on your father's arm. Your gaze never wavered while you greeted Viserys' family. "Good day, Prince Viserys. It is lovely to see you again," you told him softly with a curtsy. Viserys barely managed to bow before you were all swept up into the castle for preparations for the welcoming feast for the evening.
The feast was, as always, a beautiful and probably over-done affair. But Viserys made it through, his gaze often making its way over to where you were sitting. Whenever you caught him looking, you'd given him a soft smile before going back to your meal. Viserys wanted to speak to you, but he had to wait. When it was finally time to begin the traditional after-feast dance, Viserys couldn't get to you quickly enough.
"Princess," he greeted before sweeping you up in his arms as the music started. For a moment, the two of you were quiet and then began making small talk. All-in-all, things were going well until Viserys made a comment about how beautiful you were. "Thank you, though I suppose that isn't a good enough reason to suddenly be happy about our arrangement."
"And why not? Why should my future queen not be beautiful?" You rolled your eyes. "Beauty isn't what makes a queen, Viserys." Viserys' brows furrowed. "Well, what else is there?" You suddenly stopped dancing and shook your head. "You are an idiot, Viserys. A complete and utter idiot."
With that, you ran off and no one saw you the rest of the evening. In fact, no one saw you the entirety of the next day either. It wasn't until evening that it was discovered that you were missing. The state of your chambers indicated that you had not gone willingly. Viserys instantly saw red. Someone had the audacity to sneak into your chambers and take you from him?! And where the hells were the guards when this happened?! Viserys was livid, executing the two guards that were supposed to be guarding you and your chambers. When he anger was finally spent, Viserys set out to find you.
*time skip*
Viserys spent weeks looking for you. Weeks! And there was nary a sign of you. Viserys was beginning to lose hope and when Viserys lost hope, people suffered. As he searched, Viserys realized why his family and yours had insisted on this arrangement and the summers spent together. You were the only one able to calm Viserys' temper. You could make him see sense. You were the compassionate one. You were everything a queen needed to be. Not just beautiful.
After another long day of searching, Viserys came to a clearing with a lake sitting in the middle. The moon was reflecting off the lake as Viserys sat down on a nearby bench. "Where are you, Y/N?" As expected, no answer came to him. Just a lone swan swooping in and landing on the lake. The swan stared at Viserys, making him a little nervous. That wasn't normal behavior for birds. Was it? Viserys didn't have a chance to think about it when a faint light hit his eyes.
The light grew brighter. So bright that Viserys had to shield his eyes. When he brought his hand down, Viserys was once again speechless. "You came for me," your voice was soft and tears welled up in your eyes. There you were, in the place the swan had just been. Viserys whispered your name and stood up. He barely had time to brace himself before you crashed into him.
"Y/N? What happened to you? Are you hurt?" You pulled away a little and Viserys missed the warmth of having you close. "H-He took me. And awful sorcerer used magic to get into the palace and took me. He's trying to force me to marry him so he can take my father's throne. When I refused, he turned me into a swan. I can become human again when the moonlight hits the lake. That's when he comes to ask me for my hand again."
"He cast a spell on you? Where is he? I'll tear him apart with my bare hands if I have to!" You placed your hand over his mouth and shushed him. "He'll hear you. You can't take him, Viserys. He's too powerful. You'll need the element of surprise. He may have magic but he is not a strong fighter like you." A voice calling your name had suddenly had you jumping away from him.
"You have to go. Go back to the castle and come up with a plan. Any plan. The spell should break if he's dead. Go now. Before he sees you." Viserys wanted to argue, but seeing the fear in your eyes made him do what you said. It was the first time Viserys had ever seen you afraid and that was enough to scare even him a little bit. So he did what you said and returned to the castle to plan a strategy. He would save you. He had to save you.
A few days later, Viserys had his plan and he made his way back through the forest to the clearing with the lake. However, as soon as he set foot in the dark wood, something felt wrong. There was something heavy in the air and a feeling of dread came over him.
Viserys tried to brush it off, but as he pushed forward, the feeling grew. Without even seeing you, Viserys knew you were in danger. He picked up his pace only to stop short when he heard a voice, raspy and eerily calm, calling through the air. "Hurry, little prince. Hurry and I might let you see her one last time." Viserys shook his head to rid himself of the voice, but it simply kept calling to him.
"You thought you could outwit me, but I cannot be so easily defeated. Your princess is dying because of your foolishness." Viserys felt his heart beginning to race and he forced his feet to carry him onward toward the lake. He could feel tree branches cutting at his face and nearly getting tangled in his hair, but he paid it no mind. He would worry about his vanity later. You were his priority. Well, you and making the sorcerer pay dearly for taking you. You were Viserys' and NO ONE took what was his. At least that's how he viewed it in his head. He'd never say that out loud to you. You'd probably slap him.
Finally, just as Viserys was about to give up hope, he broke through the trees to the clearing. Your captor was there, a gloating smile on his face. He didn't look like much. In a physical match, Viserys could easily overpower him. Still, he radiated power like Viserys had never felt before. But the dragon was never one to back down from a fight and this time, the stakes were higher than ever.
"Where is she?" he growled out. The sorcerer simply laughed before stepping to the side slightly. The lone swan laid on the ground, breath hitching more and more every second. You were really dying. "What did you do?!" Viserys shrieked and the sorcerer's disgusting grin grew. "You did this. You and the princess. You could have simply given me what I wanted and this wouldn't have happened. But no. You had to go behind my back. Now, she is dying and there is nothing you can do."
If there was one thing Viserys could not standing, it was losing. The only thing worse than defeat in his eyes was his enemy gloating about the fact. Rage consumed him. Viserys felt hot. Fire welled within him and he was not aware of what was happening until it was too late. The sorcerer screamed in fear as Viserys screamed in agony. His bones were shifting. His skin was changing. Sharp talons grew where nails once were. Wings sprouted from his back. A dragon. A true dragon.
The sorcerer was quicker to react the changes in Viserys, firing some magic spell or other at him. It hit Viserys and the dragon let out a screech of pain. He glanced down at your still form. Fueled on by his need to save you, Viserys steeled his nerves and did the only thing he could think of. He blew fire and before he knew it, the sorcerer was gone. Nothing but a pile of ash.
Once his enemy was gone, Viserys looked at you. No longer a swan, your body was still not moving. Where there was once anger, grief hit Viserys like a sudden storm. His wings and scales disappeared, his limbs shrank back, and the fire in his belly was gone.
As soon as he was back on the ground in his human form, Viserys was at your side. "Y/N?" He scooped you up in his arms and held you to him. For the first time in his life, Viserys felt his eyes filling with tears at the thought of losing you for good.
"You were right," he whispered though it was difficult for him, "There is so much more to marriage and being queen than being beautiful. And you are more than just beautiful. You are everything I ever wanted. Come back to me. As your future king and your husband-to-be, I demand you come back to me." He held you closer to him.
"Who gave you permission to order me around?" your voice rasped out. Viserys let his arms drop a little and he looked at your face to see your beautiful eyes staring back up at him. "You're alive." You nodded and smiled as you tried to sit up a little. "Thanks to you. I guess you really are a dragon." Viserys chuckled. You wrapped your arms around him.
"I love you, Viserys. So much." He didn't reply, but held you more tightly as if he were afraid to let you go. After a moment, you released him so you could look at him again. This time, your face was stern. "But seriously, don't think that just because we're to be married that it means you can order me around!" Viserys shook his head fondly and then captured your lips in a bruising kiss.
(a/n: Okay, so I had this ready over the weekend and just completely forgot to post it because I'm silly. That means you'll get 2 tales this week. These will be the only things I post during my hiatus since they're for a celebration. Anyway, I hope you liked it!)
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ibijau · 3 years
Note
xisang, 46?
Choosing someone else over them
Sitting on the other side of a table covered with food, Nie Huaisang appears deep in thought, something not infrequent these days. Although Lan Xichen ought to be proud of him for trying to be less impulsive, he rather misses the silly, capricious young man his lover used to be. It always made Nie Mingjue so upset that his brother appeared incapable of any serious thought, but Lan Xichen had treasured it, this last innocent among his acquaintances. The last of them to still be free, at least to a degree, but now even Nie Huaisang has lost his candour and must bend his neck to the demands of politics.
In the years since Nie Mingjue’s death, Lan Xichen has come to the Unclean Realm as often as he’s been able to. Too much, according to some Lan elders. Not enough, his disquieted soul says every time he gets there again and finds Nie Huaisang a little thinner, a little paler. Along with his innocence, he has lost the last few traces of childhood’s roundness that had clung to his face. He is more handsome like this, but less like himself.
Tonight, as always when Lan Xichen is visit and there are no other guests to entertain, the two of them have retired in Nie Huaisang’s quarters to dine in private. The room, which used to be decorated with many trinkets, is still bare. Nie Mingjue’s uncontrollable rage destroyed so much, and his death never gave his brother a chance to restart his collection. It is another way in which things have changed, another thing Lan Xichen wants to correct and return to normal. He brings what small presents he can when he visits, just as he makes sure that Nie Huaisang, at least in his presence, eats to satiety. It is an innocent joy to be found in his lover’s presence… at least, when Nie Huaisang allows it.
Tonight, he refuses to eat, even when Lan Xichen, in a playful mood, offers to trade kisses for it. Food has held less appeal to Nie Huaisang in recent months, but he has always been weak to tender gestures. It is how Lan Xichen started taking notice of him, a sweet boy his brother’s age, but much more generous with his affection than Lan Wangji had ever been. It is deep in Nie Huaisang’s nature to touch and be touched, to crave any form of contact, or at least so Lan Xichen always assumed. If this too has changed…
Lan Xichen isn’t fond of change, but he is very fond of Nie Huaisang, and hoping all of this is just temporary, that things will return to normal once his lover settles into his new role.
Shaking his head slightly to chase away unpleasant thoughts, Lan Xichen puts back in his bowl the piece of mushroom he’d been trying to feed his lover, and sets down his chopsticks.
“Will you share what’s on your mind then, if it makes it impossible for you to eat?”
Nie Huaisang shrugs. He has his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his hand, a near pout on his lips. Lan Xichen ought to make a remark about manners, but this carelessness is enough like before to be not only tolerated but enjoyed.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about da-ge lately,” Nie Huaisang says, and then doesn’t elaborate.
It used to be near impossible to shut him up, and now he’s so careful with his words. Sometimes Lan Xichen can still get him to blabber a little, but more and more frequently even he gets hit in the face by a barrage of ‘I don’t know’ if a conversation goes on too long.
“What about da-ge?” Lan Xichen insists.
Rather than to answer, Nie Huaisang observes him a moment. There’s a sharpness in his eyes that matches the new sharpness of his features. Lan Xichen misses the lost softness, even when he knows it is unkind of him.
Nie Huaisang looks away, and fiddles with his fan. “It’s just that it’s so odd, the way he died. I know he was unwell, but I wonder… I’ve done research, you know?”
Lan Xichen chuckles. “Have you now?”
His lover’s eyes dart toward him, throwing daggers.
“And why not? Am I more stupid than others?” Nie Huaisang snaps. “My brother dies so suddenly, even when he did everything he was supposed to prevent it, can’t I wonder if someone didn’t use the state he was in to hide something more sinister? He had plenty of enemies after all!”
“I’m sure few men would dare have called themselves his enemy,” Lan Xichen counters, surprised by this sudden fit of anger.
“They sure didn’t have the guts to say it out loud,” Nie Huaisang mutters to himself, before raising his voice again. “You can’t act like he didn’t disrupt things for certain people,” Nie Huaisang accuses. “Not when some people profited so well from his death.”
A frown forms on Lan Xichen’s brow.
“What are you trying to say?”
Nie Huaisang hesitates, and opens his fan, almost like a shield. His expression, or as much of it as Lan Xichen can see right now, is cold and calculating, entirely unlike the young man Lan Xichen once fell in love with.
How much can grief change a person? Even Lan Wangji, devastated and wounded, nearly dying after his own loss, hasn’t turned into a stranger the way Nie Huaisang sometimes feels now.
Nie Huaisang who takes a deep breath, and uses what little resolve he possesses to speak again.
“I’m saying that someone saw da-ge was unwell, murdered him, and blamed it on his unstable Qi. Am I speaking plainly enough for you, Zewu-Jun?”
It is more than plain enough, even if even now, Nie Huaisang isn’t saying all of it. Lan Xichen’s hands clench into fists over his knees.
To make use of Nie Mingjue’s state, a murderer would have needed to know about it. The Nie are private people who don’t share more than they must. An attack would have needed to come either from within (unlikely, when Nie Mingjue was beloved by his sect) or from the very few outsiders in whom Nie Mingjue confided his trouble. Lan Xichen knows, of course, that he did cause any harm to his sworn brother, and Nie Huaisang must know it as well, because he’s too clever to confront him so directly without proof… and such proof cannot exist, since Lan Xichen did nothing.
The accusation, then, must be directed at Jin Guangyao.
It isn’t that Lan Xichen cannot see why some suspicion would arise. Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue were hardly on good terms toward the end, both of them always complaining about the other whenever Lan Xichen was alone with one of them. And with Jin Guangshan in the middle of a dispute with Nie Mingjue over the punishment given to Xue Yang, with Jin Guangyao often coming to the Unclean Realm to play Cleansing, there is both a motive and an occasion.
Perhaps if the accusation came from someone else, Lan Xichen would consider listening. Perhaps not. Jin Guangyao, so recently risen to lead Lanling Jin after his father died from his excesses, has attracted many enemies, and Lan Xichen has been forced again and again to side with him against those who would have used his origins to tarnish his reputation.
The question is irrelevant, because the accusation, coming from Nie Huaisang, cannot be anything but ridiculous. Lan Xichen loves the man dearly, or perhaps just the memory of what he so recently used to be, but he doesn’t allow that affection to make him blind. Nie Huaisang, is many things, and he can even be quite clever on occasions, but he’s still not particularly smart.
“I think if your brother had been murdered, someone would have noticed,” Lan Xichen says with cold politeness. “I saw his body, as did others. There were no marks of wounds, nor of any poisons.”
“Someone knowing about his state could have easily edged him on to make things worse,” Nie Huaisang points out, burning eyes peeking out from behind his fan.
“By that logic, you could be called a murderer,” Lan Xichen retorts calmly. “His biggest disputes were usually with you, weren’t they?”
Upon hearing this argument, Nie Huaisang freezes, eyes widening in horror just as his face turns deathly pale. His shock is such that he even drops his fan, revealing a mouth slack with stupefaction.
“Zewu-Jun, you…”
“I’m not blaming you for what happened,” Lan Xichen adds. “I’ve told that enough times, what happened would have happened even if the two of you had gotten along better. But just as you cannot be held responsible for your brother’s fate, neither can Jin Guangyao.”
“So you won’t listen to me at all?”
“Not unless you have some more serious proof than this to offer to me,” Lan Xichen says. Then, not wanting to appear too cold to the man he does still love, and who has had a rough year, he adds: “If you do have anything that can prove what you say, then I’ll listen. And if that proof is strong enough, of course I will side with you and help you get justice for your brother.”
An easy promise to make, when Lan Xichen knows that there was no foul play. Nie Mingjue himself had been preparing for his death since the Sunshot Campaign, resigned to an early end. This conspiracy Nie Huaisang is inventing is just a new way to try and deal with a loss that took only him by surprise.
Nie Huaisang’s fan rises again.
“No, I don’t suppose I have proof,” he says, careful and sharp. “I think I’m just tired. I think I’ll ask you to go back to your room, Zewu-Jun.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying, even if all we do is sleep,” Lan Xichen says. It isn’t a lie. He does enjoy holding Nie Huaisang in bed, feeling the warmth of another body in his arms. “If you’d like, I can even play you something so you’ll rest better.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Nie Huaisang snaps.
“You’re angry at me.”
“I’m not!” Nie Huaisang hisses, to which Lan Xichen only has to raise an eyebrow for his lover to roll his eyes. “Or maybe I am! I don’t know how I feel about anything, I don’t know, I just don’t know. Is that better? I don’t know how I feel, I don’t know what I know. I just know that I want you to leave me alone. Can’t I have this at least?”
Lan Xichen’s fists clench tighter, but he forces his smile to remain mellow.
“As you wish, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Huaisang.”
Nie Huaisang only shrugs. He doesn’t rise from the table, doesn’t follow Lan Xichen to the door, doesn’t beg for a kiss the way he always used to do. Lan Xichen doesn’t remark on it and leaves the room.
As he walks, he tells himself that it isn’t a surprise if things took such a turn. Their affection went through some rough patches already when the war broke, when Lan Xichen became sect leader and found himself with much less free time, most of which he’d spent with his sworn brothers at first, until they all found a balance. This new change might just be the last drop for them. If it comes to that, Lan Xichen will mourn what they had once, while knowing also that meeting and parting is only another part of life.
He tells himself, also, that he will not share with Jin Guangyao those suspicions Nie Huaisang mentioned. His sworn brother would be too hurt that even one of his few friends would think that way of him.
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Text
I’m copy pasting this somewhat from a letter I wrote to my friend earlier this evening. It is pretty concise as to what is happening with my mother thus far.
The last few days have been very worrying. My mother’s condition with covid got worse. She’s nauseated and deliriously ill and struggling to breath. She was sent back to the hospital four days after they released her. They released her because the beds are filling up so fast, not because she was better.
She tried to go to four different hospitals but they had no room. Eventually she was ambulance driven to a hospital in a rural town fifty miles away. It was a nicer hospital and the staff took more care of her but her situation became even more dire. She has double pneumonia delta variant covid. Two days ago Allison and I called her and god she sounded horrid. She whimpered in agony to talk. She was horribly sorry that she didn’t get the vaccine. I looked it up online and she has a 40% survival rate. We have been devastated. The sick idea of her suffering in the hospital alone is disgusting. She’s not even sixty yet. Every breath is a struggle. At night the doctors spend several hours trying to fix her oxygen.
I’m heartbroken and sick with worry. I go between being numb and sobbing and feeling helpless. She’s suffering. I may never speak to her again. I don’t know how to contextually articulate what that means to my existence but it changes everything. Even if she gets better, I will never be the same. She was part of who I am even when we weren’t close.
Today they emergency flew her to Boise to be on a ventilator. Allison messaged me at work and I fell apart and had to leave. They’ve covered my shifts for this weekend. I sobbed outside until Allison and Eddison came and got me. Happy oblivious people in close quarters looked at me strangely from a completely different reality where covid is merely a year old concept they loosely take seriously. The only bright thing I can say is that her being on a ventilator is actually good news in her situation, not bad. I mean, it’s horrible. But the fact that they gave her one when Idaho has run out is more fortunate news. It means she’s lucky to have that.
Her breathing is stabilized. She still may die. They have a better understanding of how to treat covid than they did last year. I’m trying to stay positive. I love my mom. Hell despite everything I really like her. I just want five to ten more good years with her. I’m writing this in a semi composed way, but I’m not really composed. I’m absolutely unable to focus on much else. The world is just never going to ‘go back’.
Other hideous news is that my grandma Marie, which you may vaguely remember from my life story, and her boyfriend Foreman are both deathly ill of covid. I was very close to her in my late teens and early twenties. He’s a fanatic conspiracy theorist. He believes all the Alex Jones nonsense. They were getting sicker and sicker and when my grandma tried to get better he physically prevented her and yelled at her for trying to get medical help. Maria found out and called an ambulance anyway, which they gave her oxygen and sent her home. She was angered and resentful and when she got back Foreman took half her oxygen for himself. I have no idea how oxygen works or how they take it in, but I will accept what I’m being told.
I really don’t like him and he’s very cult like. He’s someone who is harmless in certain contexts but has the potential for doing great damage and evil mindlessly when the opportunity would arise. My grandma and foreman are now so sick that they can’t move. Their organs are shutting down. They have decided to die together. I half don’t believe this was my grandma’s true will as she was adamantly trying to seek help early on. When they sent her home she gave up. I’m sure hearing about my mother’s condition had broken her spirit also. They have defacated and have feces all over themselves coming off the bed. My sister Maria is trying to take care of them but it’s hard.
David has bronchitis. He’s going to be okay but this whole thing is horrible. He’s focusing on niche news and political topics, and i worry about how his obsession and focus is largely on moral outrage. He’s not a conservative but i see this inhinged need to be angry at ‘a side’. He hates communism and pretty much accused a political people of communism.
My grandma gave into white nationalism and science denial and racism and hate during the end of her life. It started when Obama was first running. I think it gave her something to live for and believe in. Though the potential for hatred and prejudice was in her system she gave into something and it kind of warped her into something that made me want to avoid her, even when I knew and loved her dearly deep down. She was a multitude of people in her time and she was also a very good person in many ways with a limited understanding of the world around her. She had a hard battle to find independence. She’s a victim of what happens when children don’t get hugs.
Old age and loneliness made her open to Fox News and worse. Overtime it made her resent and hate an imaginary enemy every day. Anger and fear that she never coped with distorted her ability to be open. I’m sorry it’s ending this way. She deserves so much more dignity. I know a better side to her and it cuts me to think of her right now wheezing and dying in that manner. She’s very old and I was willing to accept her death. But this is a whole other level of disturbing and sad. She doesn’t deserve to die covered in feces alone. It makes me want to puke.
I’m kind of mad at Maria and her kids because they brought covid to the house and to my grandma. It was to ask for food and gas money. They knew they had covid and didn’t say anything. Now Maria is remorseful and trying to take care of everyone. I’m not actually mad at her. She’s got to be suffering horribly. This is one of the ugliest times in my entire life.
There is nothing anyone can say. I’m disgusted at politicians who politicized this and made people afraid to get vaccinated. They have blood on their hands and they don’t care as they misguide their voter base into death. Even conservatives in other countries aren’t creating myths about covid to create rifts between parties. My mother is a sweet person. She isn’t really good with critical thinking and wasn’t able to access the truth with logic. She’s gullible and childlike. She was fooled. Which was that she was high risk and needed to get vaccinated.
Anyway, there isn’t much else to say. I hope you are staying safe wherever you are. Hold your loved ones close and don’t forget to appreciate the time we have with those people.
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oceanera12 · 3 years
Text
Linked Awakening
I’ve been reading a lot of Linked!Universe AU fanfics and was listening to a cover of the Ballad of the Wind Fish and... I just had to write this:
Legend hating switching. Then again, no one enjoyed the sensation of crossing over from one world to another. But there were various members of their little group that seemed to hate it more than others.
Four always had a headache (which sometimes turned into a migraine and on the rare occasion, unconsciousness), Twilight always ended up on the ground like he was going to start crawling (Legend assumed it was the Wolfie side acting out), Time always checked his clothing and stature, and Wild always mumbled something that sounded like a bunch of names under his breath. Everyone had a routine that no one asked about.
Legend would first check he was not a painting. That also confirmed he was not a pink bunny (thanks for that, Twi). Then there was the standard “anything look familiar to anyone” question. Everyone would look around which gave Legend time to pinch himself in the arm.
Hard.
An inch of skin and flesh clumped up and then twisted. The pain would shoot up to his brain, snapping his thoughts into focus and most importantly, confirming he was not asleep. He did this three times whenever they landed by the sea... just to be safe. The pain was a reassurance that they were in reality.
Then again, the monsters on Koholint island had hurt him plenty. He is ninety percent certain that one of the scars on his back is from one of them-- although he might have also received it during the shipwreck. It was hard to say. But to keep his sanity, Legend chose to not overthink it and stuck with the pinches.
This particular switch was a rather annoying one because not only were they on a beach but there were seagulls. Legend pinched himself four times.
“Wind?” Time asked for everyone.
The youngest member ran to the waves. He pulled out his telescope and looked out at sea for any signs of other land. Wind turned back to the beach, looking for landmarks. After a minute he slowly shook his head, “There’s a mainland way off in the distance... I think. It’s a little hard to see. It could be a land I haven’t seen before.” He shrugged. “So it may be my world. May be not.”
“I found a sign!”
Legend turned to find Wild waving the group over. Wind dashed forward, already pulling out his sea map. The rest of the group slowly made their way to join them (Four’s head was acting up again and Twilight was having more difficulty getting to his feet than usual). Legend was waiting for Twilight when Wind yelled to the group, “Not my written language!”
Not a big deal. Legend had seen plenty of languages over his adventures. It’s what happens when you cross between multiple worlds. So forgive Legend for not being able to breath when Twilight and him finally joined the group.
It was his Hylean. That was his Hylean. And to make matters worse, Legend knew that sign was impossible. It couldn’t exist.
“Mabe Beach-- Mabe Viliage Ahead”
The group was talking but they sounded miles away. Time was asking if anyone knew what the sign said and Hyrule was commenting about some symbols looking familiar. Warriors was asking Legend something and he knew he had to speak.
But all he could do was stare, the shock fading into pure terror. He couldn’t do this again. Not again. The pinching hadn’t helped, he was trapped in a dream that he could wake up from but did he want to wake up no, not again, he couldn’t bear to see anyone again, especially not her, no, not again, not again--
“-nd? Legend!”
Legend found himself on his knees, hands pressed into the sand. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even think--
Someone tried to put a hand on his shoulder but Legend jerked away. This wasn’t real. He was in a dream, just a dream-- had this whole adventure been just a dream? That didn’t seem right but Legend’s thoughts were too jumbled to know for sure.
More voices entered Legend’s head but he ignored them. This wasn’t real, it was just a dream, nothing was real and he’d wake up back at sea alone with a stupid fish flying away.
“Breathe, Link!”
“Hylia, what do we do?”
“Legend, can you hear us?”
Legend pressed his hands over his ears, now face first in the sand. Why wouldn’t the dream just leave him alone? He wanted to wake up, that was all he wanted to do was wake up.
Hylia must have heard his plea because a very familiar tune faintly began to flutter into his ears, getting louder and louder. Legend felt something wet slide down his face as his breathing started to steady out. That stupid song that caused so much pain... was actually helping. He’d wake up soon and then he’d go back to the road. Find some Moblins to take his anger out on. Seemed like a solid plan.
The song continued to get closer and louder.
“Ah-ah-aahh, Ah-ah-aahh, Ahh-ah-ahhh-ah.... Ah-ah-aahh, Ah-ah-aaah, Ah-ha-haaaaa...”
Legend’s eyes snapped open. That wasn’t instruments. That was a voice. A very human, very beautiful, very familiar voice. He sat up on the sand, ignoring Hyrule’s “eep!” as the healer leaped back in surprise.
A few of the others moved back to give Legend space, calls of concern and worry mixing together. Legend hushed them loudly, his eyes narrowing towards the road to the supposed Mabe Village. The voice was close. It was also impossible.
Legend’s group seemed to hear the tune for the first time, their own gazes turning to the distant voice. 
“Ah-ah--- AHHH!”
Impossible or not, Legend didn’t care. He sprang to his feet, sword in hand and sprinted down the path. Someone shouted in surprise with another order to wait but Legend didn’t care or stop. All he heard was that voice screaming.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Marin walked down to the beach for lunch every day for over a year. Her father never asked her about the sudden habit, which she was eternally grateful for. She was unsure of how to even start explaining her actions. After all, most people who went through a near-death experience  would avoid the thing that caused it.
It hadn’t been the waves or the wind. It had been the lightning. Of course, no one believed Marin when she said such things. No one survived being struck by lighting. And even if they did, you would think she had burns from the experience.
All she had was an imaginary world of Koholint Island and a boy with blonde hair.
She hadn’t known it was a dream, at least at first. It felt like home with her father and neighbors. The monsters had been a new, but Li--... he had taken care of them. The Wind Fish was something of a fairytale from her childhood. So waking up on the beach, storm long gone and the creature flying away overhead had been a shock. It did not take long to realize everything had been a dream. Especially when no one remembered... him. That hurt the most. And the only ones who knew was herself and the beach.
So Marin went to the beach, lunch in hand, and sang to the waves. It was a call, a prayer, a wish to the Wind fish. What kind of wish was impossible to put in words. She did not know what had been real and what had been in her head.
Koho Island was peaceful. So the Moblins had been a surprise and a half-- Marin had only seen them in dreams.
She screamed, throwing her bag at the closest monster, turning and running for the trees. She wished for Lin-- his sword or at least a fishing knife. She managed to grab a stick before backing up against a tree. Marin held the stick up like a weapon, “St-stay back!”
The Moblins drew closer, growling and snarling and apparently all to happy for their new meal. She swung at one, only for the monster to grab her stick and swing it over his head. She screamed again as she flew over the group, before slamming into the ground.
The monsters growls turned into shrieks. Marin tried to get up but her vision swam and pain shot through her right arm, causing her to hit the ground again. The shrieking grew louder and Marin turned to look at her attackers. She must have hit her head harder than she thought: it almost looked like he was holding them at bay.
Marin attempted to get to her feet again. This time, she found her footing and started to stumble towards the beach--
--only to leap out of the way of eight sprinting warriors with weapons drawn. She hit the ground with another painful yelp. Marin moaned and rolled onto her back. One of the boys was kneeling over her, concern laced on his face. “Are you alright?”
Marin found herself unable to speak at the moment. He looked a lot like--
The boy held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Th...three?” Marin managed.
“Good.”
A particularly loud screech from a dying Moblin caused Marin to sit up and look past her medic. There were eight, blonde haired, boys finishing off the last of the monsters. A few wore armor, some were older, she swore two of them couldn’t be more than twelve, and the one that was pulling his sword free of the last moblin--
Marin found herself unable to breathe.
The monster’s body fell to the ground, leaving only a very angry, panting, Link. His eyes were angrier, he looked a tad taller, not the mention the orange sword, and yet... there was no doubt in her mind that it was him.
His gaze flicked upward and found hers. The anger burned away into surprise.
“--miss? Miss?”
Marin’s eyes snapped up to her medic. “What?”
“Were you injured?” he said it like he was repeating himself.
Her mind went blank. Was she injured? That was an excellent question because her dream boy was standing right over there which was impossible--
The sound of a sword hitting the ground followed by a choked, “Marin?” cut her thoughts off.
Marin’s head jerked back to Link. He looked afraid, which almost made her smile. Link, afraid? She had watched him take down enemy after enemy without even flinching. And yet, there he stood, hands trembling, sword laying useless on the ground, and shining eyes.
She found the will to stand and tried to steady her own hands. “Link?”
He nodded slowly, the trembling growing worse. Marin’s hands flew up to her mouth and tears began to well up in her eyes. “But-- but how--? How are you--?...  I thought you were a dream!” And then she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Her knees gave out but Link was suddenly there, pulling her into his arms. His tears joined hers and she gripped his tunic like her life depended on it.
Link’s companions were doing something but Marin didn’t care. She just cried and cried, thanking Hylia, the Wind Fish, just anyone who was listening for bringing Link to her.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, that was fun. I just feel so bad for my boy Legend and I just wanted him to be happy for a moment. So when I found a fanfic in which Marin was also someone who had been pulled into the Wind Fish’s dream, I latched onto it and couldn’t let it go. So yay! Reunion! Maybe I’ll write more, maybe I won’t. It just wouldn’t leave me so here I am.
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themadlostgirl · 3 years
Text
Abandoned (2)
*Doubt comes in*
~~~
It felt like I was walking into a trap as I ventured into the jungle in search of the music. For days it had been calling out to me, bidding me to follow it. Now here I was doing just that. I tell myself I’m doing this to end the music. If I stop the music then I’ll stop forgetting. Simple as that.
The deeper into the forest I went though the more my confidence wavered. The music was getting steadily louder and more hypnotizing. My steadfast march turned idle like I was taking a leisurely walk. The grip on my sword slackening. I hadn’t even realized I sheathed it again until the music suddenly stopped.
My senses started to return and panic began to set in. I was in the middle of the jungle in the dead of night with no recollection of how I got there or how to get back to my hut. How could I be so careless? I’m smarter than this! Okay. Deep breath. Don’t panic. All I needed to do was start backtracking. I must have left a trail, I just needed to find it.
If I did that though then what would have been the point of me coming out here in the first place? I came out here to stop the music for good. It must have stopped because I was close. I needed to keep going. With a deep breath I turned back around and searched high and low for anything or anyone that could be playing the music. Not exactly easy since everything was shadows.
“There in the field stood a flower rare. Its petals bright with beauteous flair. Along came a bee buzzing through the air. And sat on the flower without a care.” A voice in the shadows spoke and from them emerged Pan, “Then the flower closed and became a snare. The moral of this story I now will share. Even pretty things can cause a scare.”
“Aren’t we a little old for nursery rhymes?” I wrapped my hand around the hilt of my sword.
“Never.” He grinned.
“Is it you?” I asked, “Are you the one that makes the music every night?”
“Oh, so you can hear it. Good. You never moved from your camp on the beach so I was wandering if you could yet. How long have you been able to hear it?”
“A few weeks. Why?”
“And you held out this long. Gotta say, I’m impressed.” He pulled a set of pan pipes off his belt. “These are enchanted. Only certain people can hear the music when I play it. The music itself has interesting side effects.”
“What people? What side effects?”
He brought the pipes up to his lips and played a short tune. Immediately the melody wrapped around my brain and the world around me softened out of focus. When he stopped I blinked as if waking from a daydream. He smiled at me.
“The music attracts those that feel unloved and unwanted. It softens the heartache of such a sad life, erases all the bad memories. All you have to do is let it in.”
“But I--I’m not--I’m not unloved or unwanted! I don’t want my memories erased!”
“If you can hear the music then I have to say different. Ever since your father left you’ve been spiraling further and further down. Wondering when he’s gonna come for you. Holding onto a useless hope that you’re ever gonna see him again. But you know the truth, don’t you? All the evidence adds up but you’d rather hold onto a childish hope than accept it.” He circled me like a beast of pray. Even in the dim light of my lantern I could make out the wheels turning in his head. “You’re lost, spitfire. So helplessly lost.”
The flame of my lantern blew out casting everything into darkness. I drew my sword listening for any snap of a twig or breath of air that indicated he was near.
“Boo.” His voice whispered in my ear.
“Raaah!” I swung and my blade hit another. Pan had blocked the hit with a dagger.
“Quick reflexes, swordfish. But mine are quicker.” He disappeared again.
“Come on out and face me like a man you codfish!” I shouted.
“Who wants to be a man? Grown ups have such little fun.” I tried to pinpoint his voice but it seemed to echo from all directions. “But us, the young blood, we can make games out of anything. Just like we are now.”
“This isn’t a game, Pan.” I growled. “If I get the chance I’ll run you through.”
“No you won’t. Want to know why?” My lamp flickered back to life and Pan stood before me just inches away from the tip of my blade. “Because you’re having fun.”
I lunged the sword at him and he side-stepped it with ease making me stumble forward.
“There is such fire and fight in you. It’s been bottled up and suffocating on that ship. Now you’re free.” He kicked me to the ground. “Free as you are, you still don’t know what to do with yourself. My poor little Lost Girl.”
“I’d rather tie boulders to my bootstraps and throw myself into the mermaid lagoon before I became part of your dumb crew.” I spat, shooting back to my feet. “I came here to stop that infernal music and I plan to just do that. Either by destroying those pipes or by killing you. I don’t care which.”
“The only way you’ll destroy these pipes is if you pry them from my cold dead hands.”
“Then I guess that only leaves us with one option.”
“I suppose it does.” He grinned wider. Like the prospect of dying was thrilling to him. “To die would be an awfully big adventure. I look forward to it. The first move is yours, swordfish.”
With that he was gone.
That bilge-sucking, arrogant, underhanded, codfish! This was not some game! What was it going to take to get that through his thick skull?! Maybe a knife to the eyesocket. I gathered my lantern from the ground and turned around. The path I had taken here was much clearer than it had been earlier.
Another trick of Pan’s.
I came here to stop the music and I think I may have just made things between Pan and I worse. Before he left me alone but now he thought there was fun to be had with me. A part of me wanted to continue my mission and charge further into the jungle until I hunted down Pan again and fight till the last breath. The more rational part of me told me to pick my battles carefully.
I turned around and took the path back to my camp. I would deal with Pan tomorrow after I had devised a new plan.
Storming his camp wasn’t a good idea for multiple reasons. One, I didn’t know where it was. Two, even if I did know where it was the Lost Boys would outnumber me twenty to one. My only hope was to get him alone but I didn’t know when that could be. The only time I’ve met him alone is when it was on his terms. He had either drawn me in or showed up on his own. If I wanted the upper hand I’d have to take him alone and by surprise.
For that to work though I’d have to know his pattern of movement. He has to have one. There’s no way he’s around Lost Boys all the time. But to learn his patterns I’d have to track him down and try not to be detected while I spied on him. That in itself was another headache seeing as how he could appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. I could be tracking him for hours and then he’d blink away to the other half of the island and I’d have to track him down again.
Maybe a betrayal? Pretend to want to be part of his camp and get him when his guard is down. No, that wouldn’t work either. Not only would Pan’s trust take too long to obtain but if I started acting nice now he’d know I was planning something. What am I supposed to do?
At the very least I should find out where his camp is. I don’t know if he moves it but I can’t see why he would since there are no enemies on the island. None except for me. I don’t see him moving his entire camp because I came upon it though.
In the morning as the first light of the sun started to creep up over the horizon I gathered my things and ventured into the jungle. I had no idea how long it may take but I wanted as much time as possible before any of the Lost Boys woke up. I didn’t know a lot about Pan and his Lost Boys outside of what papa and the crew mentioned but I did know that they stayed up very late. So early morning was probably not their friend.
I was hiking through the jungle for maybe a good two hours before I noticed paths naturally leveling out around me. Well worn, some even had fresh tracks in them. I was getting close to the camp. I followed along the path until I noticed a break in the dense forest of trees. Sticking to the morning shadows and creeping as quietly as I could I got closer. I stepped over a tripline and scanned the ground for any other traps or alerts that may have been set up.
This was it, Pan’s camp. Lost Boys were abundant and all soundly asleep either in tents, swinging in hammocks, or passed out on the ground. The remains of what looked to be a bon fire sat in the middle of the camp. I crept around the perimeter searching the faces for Pan’s but I couldn’t spot him. Was he in one of the tents?
Best not to go looking. I knew where the camp was now, that was enough for today. I should get out of here before the boys wake up. I made not of the way to get back as I retreated to my own camp on the beach. Maybe if I can find Pan while he and the boys are asleep then I could get him. It was bad form to attack someone while they’re sleeping but this boy had already taken so much from me. I didn’t care about bad form anymore.
I hunted down some breakfast on my way back to my camp and sat down to relax. I stared out over the ocean praying that I would see the Jolly Roger come sailing out over the horizon. As long as I watched though it remained the same.
I pulled out my pocketwatch and clicked it open again, listening to the metronomic ticking sound it issued. He has to be coming for me. He has to.
The next few days I spent getting up early before any of the boys awakened and hiking back to scope out the camp. No matter how many times I went or how hard I looked I could never spot Pan among them. Did he sleep somewhere else? Why? Wouldn’t he want to be with his camp in case of an emergency?
This was useless. I wasn’t gaining any new information and it was clear that Pan wasn’t here. I’d have to think of something else or else try to find where he does rest his head if not in his camp. With a sigh I turned around back towards my own camp and check the traps I set. I never had much use for snares on a ship but I was thankful that papa taught me now. Not a whole lot of wildlife was on the island outside of birds, frogs, snakes, and a whole lot of bugs. There were some boar but they were very inland so most of my food came from fishing. Hopefully something good had taken the bait I put out.
I checked the traps and felt my stomach constrict when they turned up empty. I guess it was berries for breakfast...again. I never thought I would miss cook’s dried herring jerky so much.
I grabbed a pouch and wandered back into the jungle. I was trying to forage for more than a handful of berries when I felt a small chill go up my spine. Someone was watching me. I slowly reached for my dagger and turned around.
Pan was standing behind me looking bored. “Really?” He gestured to the dagger I had aimed at him, “Aren’t we past this yet?”
“What do you want?”
“Hungry?” He held up an apple. “Probably more filling than a handful of berries.”
“And the price?” I raised an eyebrow.
“No price.” He tossed me the apple and I caught it. “I figured you might be hungry.”
“What brought on this unexpected generosity?” I cut off a slice with my dagger. “Hoping to get on my good side?”
“What if I am?” He pulled out another apple for himself. “Would that be so terrible?”
“Wasn’t it a couple of nights ago that you looked forward to me trying to kill you? Why would you want on my good side? Doesn’t that ruin your little game?”
“Can’t play the game if you die of starvation.” He shrugged. He knelt down next to me studying me from a distance. “Also, seeing as how you won’t make a move in this game I’m getting bored.”
“You don’t know what I may be planning, Pan.” I don’t even know what I’m planning.
“Oh no, I know what you’re planning. Isn’t it bad form, even for a pirate, to do someone in while they’re sleeping? Very bad form, Lady Jones. I’m a little disappointed really.”
“I--” There’s no way he could know that! “How did--”
“You’re up at the crack of dawn every day scoping my camp. You’re more than welcome to come by at a normal time for people to be awake if you’d like. We have plenty of food to share.”
“You knew?!” I fumed. I thought I had been so quiet and clever! No one had ever spotted me. No one had ever been awake. How could he have possibly have known unless... “The reason I never saw you sleeping…”
“If it makes you feel any better it was an accident that I came upon you that first day. I woke up earlier than I expected and saw you skirting the perimeter of the camp. I thought about scaring you or something like that but I wanted to see what you would do. Then you didn’t do anything and that was boring.” He groaned with a great roll of his eyes, “The next day and the day after that you kept coming back and not doing anything. I left out food close to the perimeter to see if you’d try snagging it but you didn’t. I never would have thought the daughter of pirates would be so frustratingly cautious. Shouldn’t recklessness be part of your blood or something?”
“I’m not dumb enough to charge into situations and conflicts blind. Reflexes and being able to adapt to a tough situation are one thing, researching and planning is another. I’m not in an immediate life and death situation so I prefer to be methodical.”
“Life and death, huh?” He turned the apple core over in his hands. “Let’s test that, shall we?” He chucked the apple core at my head. I ducked out of the way just in time.
“What was--” He charged at me with his dagger and I rolled out of the way. It was too early for this!
“Come now, spitfire!” He grinned like the devil, “Life and death situation, what are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to kill you is what!” I pushed to my feet and unsheathed my sword.
“Sword versus a dagger?” He asked as I took a swing at him, “Isn’t that a little unfair?”
“Coming from the boy with magic.”
“I’m not using magic now.” He teleported behind me and prodded his dagger at my back, “But thank you for reminding me.”
“Don’t.” I thrust my blade behind me making Pan jump out of the way. “You know if any real harm comes to me then my father will have your head.”
“I doubt that.” He scoffed. The dagger in his hands grew until it was a sword the same size as mine. “Do you still believe he’s coming for you?”
“I know he is.” We moved over the terrain of the jungle fighting blade to blade. The metallic sound echoing over the otherwise quiet island. The area around us grew more open and the ground softer as we stepped out onto the beach. My footing was less sure here but then Pan’s had to be too.
“You really do not want to face the truth do you?” Pan sighed. “He left you, swordfish. Your rum drunk father left you here to rot.”
“No! You’re lying!” I let my anger fuel me as I started to regain ground and go on the offensive.
“I’m not.” Pan blocked my attacks with a frustrating ease, “You wanna know how I know that he isn’t coming back for you? How I know he abandoned you here?” He twisted my blade around and knocked it from my hands. “He left because I told him to.”
“What?” I stared down the sheen of the blade he had pointed at me.
“I told him that if he abandoned you here on the island then him and the rest of his crew could go free.” Pan said.
“No.” I shook my head, “It’s another lie. You’re trying to trick me.”
“No tricks here, swordfish.” He held up his hands and the sword shrunk back to that of a dagger that he put on his hip, “I swear on my life. I came to him with an offer. A trade: you for freedom.”
I tried to go for my sword but Pan kicked it further away. My hands fisted into the sand. “Even if you are telling the truth why would you want me?” I demanded “You could have asked for anything. Why me?”
“Well at first it was because I thought that it would be funny. Hook giving up his precious daughter would cause him the most pain after all.” Pan chuckled, “But then I imagined how much fun it would be having you around. I only ever got to meet you once but you had such fire in you. Needless to say I was not disappointed. I am having so much fun with you.”
“Cause that’s what it always comes down to with you.” I said, “Everything is a fun game. You might think that but I sure don’t! These mind games you play are not fun and I will not give into them. You really think I would believe that my own father would trade me away to someone like you?”
“You should. Cause he did.” Pan looked past me further down the beach where my camp was set up. “I never thought that he’d actually do it but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Adults are so disappointing, especially parents. Selfish enough to sell their own children off to make their lives easier.”
He spoke with a malice that bordered on vengeful. I think that was the first time I had ever seen him look truly angry. As quickly as it came upon him it left to be replaced with his cocky smile. “Consider yourself lucky. You could have ended up somewhere much worse than here.”
He waved his hand and a sack was now in his hands. He tossed me it and I almost fell back with the weight. Inside was a variety of food. “Since you’re too stubborn to come to the camp for food this should last you a couple of days. Have a nice morning, Lady Jones, think about what I’ve said.”
Then he was gone again.
I took the sack of food back to my camp and happily munched on some boar jerky within. I looked around at my camp with a growing sense of doubt. Papa...he wouldn’t trade me for freedom. He wouldn’t.
Would he?
---
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Here’s the thing about revealing your greatest vulnerability to your biggest enemy: they don’t tend to forget it.
James had known this day was coming; the writing had been on the wall since that night at the winery. The night they’d unknowingly handed over their leverage to Devon on a silver fucking platter.
He hadn’t put it together yet then—that Devon was CIA. Back then, he had thought going with Devon would mean the standard cartel two-for-one retribution special: death, dismemberment and an unmarked grave. And so, whether he liked it or not, he had sat there in the car like a complete fucking asshole while Teresa squared her shoulders and walked inside to face down his demons.
He had known if anyone could get them out of it, Teresa could, but he couldn’t forgive himself for sending her in blind to bargain for his life, unaware that whatever price she paid would be far too high. After what he’d done in Texas, he wasn’t worth saving. He couldn’t let her lose everything for him.
It hadn’t felt like a risk to tip his cards to Devon, then. If his days were numbered, he could at least die knowing his mistakes were his alone.
He hadn’t counted on Teresa showing her own hand or what exactly it would reveal.
Are you willing to risk your life for this man?
Yes.
That night—the honesty, the intimacy—had felt like a stay of execution. He should have known it was just a brief reprieve.
Like any sicario, he had a lengthy list of reckonings, long past due—reckonings he’d always shrugged off before meeting Teresa.
It was only by being in her orbit that he’d begun to comprehend the gravity of his past choices, their weight growing heavier in tandem with her importance. By Phoenix, the shadow he hauled behind him had taken on the distinctive weight of a dead body. Sometimes it felt like a premonition, like he was dragging his own corpse around.
Or worse, hers.
Everything changed after that night. He couldn’t know that just as he was realizing he couldn’t lose her, she was already being torn from his grasp. They’d only gotten a few short months together; it made everything feel too important. Every touch too meaningful, every argument too painful.
Every kiss felt like the last.
It took Teresa nearly dying in Bolivia and Kelly Anne digging herself into a shallow grave for the pieces to fall into place. Devon was more than he appeared.
Teresa would hate him if she knew he hadn’t pulled the trigger. But Devon was his mistake, a mistake enough people had died for already. He couldn’t add Kelly Anne to the list. His penance would have to be enough for both of them. You couldn’t run from the CIA.
The looming inevitability hadn’t made his departure less difficult but it had made the decision easier. Walking out of her house in Phoenix—their house—had been one of the hardest things he’d done in his life. Only the knowledge that to turn around would consign them both to hell kept him moving forward.
“You’ll come with us, so you won’t be able to drag her down with you.”
And it had worked for a time. Devon was fond of updating him on Teresa’s triumphs without him: her expansion to new cities, her dating life. It didn’t bother him the way Devon hoped. Teresa’s successes meant he hadn’t done this for nothing. That this sacrifice was worth something.
But as it went on, as Teresa’s business grew and grew, he’d felt the change in Devon’s demeanor. His surrender into Devon’s custody had always been more of a stopgap than a permanent solution but he’d hoped Teresa would have more time. He should have known: someone as ambitious and clever as her would fast outgrow the box the CIA preferred her in. Eventually she would need to be convinced of different ways to be useful or risk becoming a liability to their interests.
It just so happened that thanks to that same night at the winery, Devon had first hand knowledge of just how to best convince her.
“The terms of our agreement have changed, Valdez.”
Something told James it wouldn’t be a negotiation.
“Sinaloa, Texas, Phoenix, New Orleans, Atlanta, Miami,” Devon continued and motioned for his driver to pull away from the curb. “Teresa has made some powerful enemies….and some powerful friends.”
“No,” James interjected, flatly, as though he had a choice in whatever question Devon was about to ask.
“Intel has it that she’s got a meeting lined up with the Russians.”
That stopped James cold. The Russians were the top of the food chain. You fucked with them, you didn’t live long enough to regret it. Sinaloa looked like Disney World in comparison. But Devon’s smirk as he said “intel” was the baited hook that caught hold of James’ attention.
They had someone inside Teresa’s organization. 
“Who?” he demanded.
“It doesn’t matter. We need someone with more access. We need you.”
He bit back his automatic refusal, aware that this might be his only chance to get vital information he could use. “Access to what?”
“Teresa’s meetings with Konstantin Volkova.”
Fucking fantastic. Not just a Russian, the most powerful Russian in the North American drug trade. Ratting him out would be a guaranteed way to get them all killed.
“Forget it. I’m not a snitch.”
“We can do this with or without your voluntary assistance, James,” Devon replied, unbothered, confident in his upper hand. “Option one, you get to do what you promised to do—protect Teresa. It hasn’t been all victories this past year. Javier got himself killed. And her godson, what was his name? Tony.”
James knew he was playing right into Devon’s hands but he couldn’t stop himself. “How? Who?”
“Car bomb courtesy of a local judge, I’m told. Lacks a certain sense of sophistication but makes up for in effectiveness.”
Despite the cracked window, it felt like all the air had left the vehicle. James had never allowed himself to question his decision to leave once it was done. He didn’t make room for regrets lest they take over him completely but now he felt the stirrings of doubt or worse, guilt. He’d convinced himself he was doing her a favor, that she’d be better off without him. But would she have lost Tony if he’d been there? Or was that just foolish arrogance?
“You wouldn’t just be helping us,” Devon continued. “You’d be helping Teresa, too. Seems like she needs it. We just want Kostya.”
“And then?”
“Like I said, Teresa will be safe as long as she’s useful to us. Getting Kostya off the board would be….extremely useful to us.”
James shook his head. “You’re forgetting something. Teresa’s never going to go along with this.”
“Then don’t tell her.”
If there was anything the past few years had taught him, he knew one thing for sure. “I won’t lie to her.”
“A valiant effort, Valdez, but we both know you will,” Devon curled his lip in satisfaction as he laid down his final trump card. “She was willing to give up her life to save you once. Should we see how she feels about it now? How long do you think it would take to persuade her? How much of your blood? Because, option two, James… option two is much bloodier. Yours, hers, both. Take your pick.”
Like he said, on a silver, fucking platter.
“When do I start?”
“Good answer. We’re a few miles out from Teresa’s location. You’ll have a car and her GPS coordinates. I don’t care what you tell her, as long as you get back in. Remember, we’ll have eyes on you. You screw this up, it’s the end of the road for you both.”
James tried to use the time he had left to run the options through his head but as Devon’s town car pulled over behind a dark sedan, all he could think of was how he was minutes away from seeing Teresa again, something he thought he'd never get to do. He’d figure something out—some way to deal with the Russians, a way to get the CIA off their backs, a way to keep them all alive. He had to. But hopefully, it wasn't something he'd have to do alone. Hopefully it was something they’d do together.
“And James?” Devon called after him as he turned to open the car door. James didn’t even see the knife before it was buried in his abdomen. “Just in case either or you need the extra motivation."
James clutched his hand to his side but the blood quickly soaked his shirt.
"Clocks ticking James. Don’t let it run out.”
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skye-huntress · 3 years
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RWBY V8 Episode 13 “Worthy” Reactions
There is so much going on in this episode and naturally because it’s the penultimate episode, so much conflict still in progress. I may miss or forget things and this will take me a while to get out because I have so much nervous energy it took me half an hour just to start typing. So keep that in mind as you read on
People were saying the plan went so smoothly but as I pointed out in my last reaction, local comms going down was and has thrown the evacuation into disarray, we can see it. So already we have Jaune and Nora splitting off from their team to spread the message, leaving less people to secure the gathering point in Vacuo
Second complication, a sandstorm that cuts off local comms and makes it impossible to know where Vacuo is. And a growing number of terrified refugees just out in the open with less than a handful of fighters to protect them. No way back to relative shelter or to even warn the rest either because true to his nature Ambrosius built exactly what they ask for.
Third complication, I wondered why Cinder seemed to be prepared for their plan. I thought Watts somehow also intercepted comms between Winter and Weiss but it seemed a stretch. Using the last question is going to bite her in the arse later, but I suppose she is in a damned anyway if she can’t give Neo Ruby before Salem respawns
And now we can also confirm she knows of Emerald’s “betrayal” but unless she leaves or gets knocked through the Vacuo portal, we may not get a confrontation this volume. Hard to say what she makes of this, she’s only shown to treat Emerald as someone she can use, much like how Cinder herself was and is being used.
Also Jinn definitely looked remorseful, but just like Ambrosius and the other spirits, she has rules to follow. BTW, I thought of a possible loophole for Jinn’s question limit. She can only be asked three questions every 100 years but I find it curious one question was already used. So my question is would it be possible to ask Jinn the same question twice. Technically it would not be a fourth question, but is that technicality enough to at least allow Jinn to repeat information for new ears.
Watts has access to the Command Centre. Jimmy’s need to control everything has once again backfired and given the enemy everything they could possibly want to do as much damage as they desire
All those people that Cinder blasted off the edge just to get RWBY’s attention, this has always been who she was, which is why there will not be any form of redemption for her. Even if she turns against Salem, it will be for her own selfish reasons and it is why she’ll never truly be able to escape from her fate
Our first RWBY vs Cinder fight (and probably not the last). Not many places worse for them to fight (if at all), with little ground (not a problem for a flying enemy), no cover, civilians in the line of literal fire (and glass). Got knocked off, game over. Speaking of which...
And Neo. Fucking Neo. And of course, protective big sister to the rescue. And she is the first to fall.
I did find it interesting that she seemed to vanish at a certain point on the way down. I interpret as proof, it’s not some endless void, there is something down there. And of course, there has to be a way back. We’re talking the Y of RWBY here, not to mention half the show’s most prominent LGBT+ couple. Contrary to what some individuals claim, RT do not do “Bury Your Gays” or “Queerbaiting”, at least not intentionally. As I said for Penny when she got hacked, Yang is going to be just fine, eventually. She’s not fine right now, obviously, but this isn’t the end for her. RWBY isn’t that type of show.
Ruby seems to be just surviving, no time to think or process what happen unless she wants to end up dead-dead by her sister’s supposed murderer. In this case, it is somewhat fortunate that Ruby’s coping mechanism is through actions, but when she stops it’s going to catch up with her
As for Blake, who got over repressing all her emotions several volumes ago, is not only the one to lose it the most but has gone absolutely feral. Still, she is not so far gone that she isn’t completely unaware that Penny and Weiss are unless in danger. Dilemma, exact vengeance on Neo, or lose another person you love?
While I’m on this point though, this is an excellent example of the destructive nature of the cycle of vengeance. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. In her pursuit of vengeance, Neo has naturally made herself the target of the same type of vengeance. Precisely why killing often not actually a final solution, it also has consequences as well.
I fear for Penny but I’m still confident she’ll survive this somehow. She is something new and unique, a whole new chapter of her life has just started and it would be anti-climatic and a huge waste for the show not to explore that. Besides, if Cinder has learned anything than she knows the relics must take priority over her power lust. All the power of Maidens won’t save her from Salem if she doesn’t return with both of them.
Weiss seems to be the one in most trouble right now, and in most danger of falling next. Still, I’m curious to see if her Nevermore summon will come into play again. A finale seems like the best time for it, and could potentially be a tide turner, perhaps more so than the Queen Lancer summon in Volume 5. She could use more wins.
Back to the Loser Ops. Hoping Marrow is okay. But of course, Harriet is still set on delivering that bomb. Much like her boss, she seems incapable of admitting she is wrong or has lost. I don’t think most people expected Vine to be the next one to concede that Jimmy was not the one to follow, but it makes sense. At that point, blowing up a city for man who has already lost is the furthest thing from logical. It’s just spite at that point, and just a way to make sure everyone loses.
So the bomb is back in play, thanks to Harriet. And while everyone is focused on her, no one will notice Watts pulling the strings from behind the curtain. But what is his target? He wouldn’t waste such a thing on mere civilians. It could simply be to occupy and/or eliminate several powerful combatants, given the villains are currently outnumbered. Still, he’s in his element and the last person we want to underestimate now. If this is truly the end of Atlas, this may probably be his last great act of villainy before he truly falls into irrelevancy and expendability
Lastly, Jimmy F@#$ing Ironwood. Forcefield prisons are such a bad idea. And of course, we can’t forget Chekhov’s gun-gun-gun. We had to see it in action and what it can do to a person. He recovered extraordinarily quickly, but then his body is more machine than man at this point. Also, as I predicted, shattering his aura did not snap him out of it. Atlas the city, the idea, is everything to him. He stopped seeing the people in it a while ago. He’ll kill them all if it will keep the city afloat.
I have complicated feelings about Jacques Schnee. I don’t need to tell anyone how much of a terrible person he is but I can’t ignore the truth that not everything he touched turned to shit. Weiss is perhaps my favourite character in the show, and she would not only not exist if it weren’t for Jacques, she wouldn’t be the person she is that I love now if Jacques was any different as a father. Same goes for Whitley and Winter. It’s a reminder that some good can come from even the shittiest of people acting in the shittiest of ways. He was also right about Ironwood all along, can’t forget that.
That all said, Jacques did not deserve to be murdered like that, whatever his crimes. The man had nothing left, no threat to anyone anymore. He should have lived for the rest of his pathetic existence knowing what he lost.
So now Winter is facing Ironwood again, this time she is alone and he is armed. Neither are in the best shape. I only see this ending with one or both of them dying.
One final note, Yang may be gone but... what if instead of the others also falling... those still standing take a leap of faith to jump after her and whoever else falls
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itsgrishaverse · 4 years
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DEVIL TEARS ♞ MICHAEL LANGDON 002.
heavily inspired by favorite book; au. without losing the sense of the main canon character.
Summary; As unpredictable as a dream, Michael Langdon shares an intimate moment with the enemy at the edge of his death. It woke up a certain curiosity — and possibly obsession with you.
this is so short because, I want to see if it’s a good idea and if you all will like it! certainly it will turn into a fic so if you’d like to be in the taglist, let me know.
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Favorited by the gods was a concept out of her hands. Favorited would mean to be special, to believe in any kind of speciality would refer to the existence of any God. She didn’t believe in either. The woman with gold eyes; as bright as the sun, was a dreamer. That’s what she often told herself. Enough to believe it. A dreamer didn’t always control what was shown, a dreamer didn’t have to explain herself or abilities. There was an underlying pleasure feeling at the thought of no explanation, belonging to no one, being no one. Even if it was farther away from the truth. How long could one pretend? A dreamer could also stop dreaming, she whispered.
It all went back to that night, no matter how busy or tired you found yourself. It chased you like a starving dream ━━ only that it wasn’t one. It was real. It happened, and every time that you allowed yourself to think about that certain event, it became more real than possible. Like a part of you; a flower, the thought crossed your mind. Blooming inside you.
The possibility of how such events would’ve turned out if you didn’t save that man’s life also crossed your mind. It has been six months already and yet... the sensation of his fingers against your skin wouldn’t leave you. How tight his grasp remained as you hunched down, examining his wound. It was firm, tight, impatient yet hopeful. Wide dilated pupils looking at you. He clung to you as if his life depended on it. And that night, it did. The world became unstable, lost in an ocean of bones and smoke even before the day you were born. Your kind against the crows. A group; no. Legion of people that found pleasure in power and control and a certain liking for degrading, making your kind their servants. Rumors that they bonded with witchcraft also ran in the wind. That’s how you met earth, that’s how you lived in it and that would be too how you left it the day that your soul escaped your body. Everyone would die, eventually. Others did it sooner than their time. Unfortunately. Others’ death visited in your dreams before it happened. It was a painful promise and while fate couldn’t be always avoided, you still allowed them the knowledge of how you saw them dying. To prevent anything.
Sometimes they would ask you if you’ve dreamt of your own death. You never answered.
Walking in your room with thoughts still bringing down walls of your mind, the clothes you often wore were easily discarded. A pair of tight black jeans which matched with the buttoned up shirt and the coat. It was something worn whenever it meant going outside because of duty. As soon as you turned around, the sight of a red wine dress laid out in your bed caught your attention. It carried a note with simple words. “Wear it. It’s not from me, but him. How adorable and considerate of him, right? Red is your favorite.” The handwritten let it known that your mother has written it —— and she was talking about the man she always brought up whenever you were around. One of the high family’s son and future leader in your clan, after your father, if he happened to be absent one day. The fact the man who would arise from someone close to you’s death had the courage to court you made it kind of morbid. Yet, nothing would change when it came down to rules embedded for so long. His name was Duncan.
Inside bathroom, in the bathtub filled with warm water, muscles relaxed. Your body welcomed it as well as your mind. A breath of peace. One hand was raised in front of you out of instinct, long fingers stained by dry blood mark you. It wasn’t yours, but someone else’s who was found out in the streets a couple of hours ago. Begging for help. Matthew and someone else hurried over as soon you called them, both of your hands pressing against his wound in an attempt to prevent him from bleeding out. He didn’t make it. Those last words still rang in your ears. He whispered “crows.” Crows. Crows did that and they would keep doing it. No matter what. It was either them or you.
But was it always like that? Adversaries? The night you found one man from the opposite clan laying down on the floor, bleeding out. The night you chose to keep it a secret to save his life, it wasn’t him against you. It was him and you.
flashback.
Slow, yet steady steps alarmed Michael Langdon about someone else’s presence in the building. He was on the edge of dozing off at the tiredness and the constant pain digging into his side. A wound caused by a quick shift and blade, someone else who has been skilled enough to reach him. That night was one of the bloodiest he had witnessed, his people were dead as well as everyone else who stepped inside that place. Not even three hours later. He remained on the cold floor, his shoulders against the wall. Between keeping himself awake and not dying, his mask has been taken off. Dropped by his side, revealing golden silk long curls, sticking to his forehead by sweat. The masks they wore whenever out in public were in the shape of a crow. You never took them off to reveal your identity, that was one rule written by him, the main representative and leader. Rule which was broken by himself. Everyone was dead either way.
Three minutes later. As expected he caught the glimpse of someone else’s figure wandering around. Hunched down before one of the bodies only a few feet away from him. Uncertain of whatever they were doing to them, his right hand gripped his own blade weakly. He couldn’t do much, but it didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be an attempt to have a worthy death. For him and his position. Four minutes. He observed the figure stand up this time, turning to face him. As eyes met through dim lights, confusion hit him as surprised must have hit the other. A female. She froze in her place, it made him guess she certainly didn’t expect someone to be alive at this point—— the fact it was probably the first time she had seen someone without their mask didn’t cross his mind that second. It was because of both reasons.
She didn’t move. It sent a cold shiver through his spine not knowing when she’d attack him. If he blinked once, would they still stand there? If blinked twice, would they then attack him? He didn’t blink, but attempted to speak. His voice came out hoarsely. “I’m ready.” Why for? He didn’t know. “I’m ready for death.”
That certainly did catch her attention, enough that she stepped closer —- hesitantly, and lowered close enough to the body by his side. Wait. What the hell was she doing? Ignoring him? “Well.” Her accented voice reached his ears. His head turned to cast her another glance, keeping blues on her. She ran one hand along the corpse’s chest as if looking for something. Another wave of confusion hit him. It must have been one of her people, as soon as he saw her taking a necklace from them. “I am not. Death must be really boring, don’t you think? For young people like us. If you are as young as you seem. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
Michael couldn’t see his own face at the moment, but he was certain he probably looked perplexed. Because he was. Everything made him feel dizzy, uncertain of its way. If there was something he was certain about, apparently, was that he having a conversation with someone who was supposed to kill him the first time they saw him. And he, attacked them. Or probably use her as a way to save his own life. His thoughts were snapped out upon catching her hunching down before him this time, his breath caught. Fingers tightening around the material of the blade. Her neck was exposed, how easily it would be stab her and kill her there, immediately. He would die, but at least he would’ve taken another life with him.
“Show me your injury.”
“So you can make it worse?”
“No.” She shook her head and he found himself wanting to run his fingers through her hair. How stupid of him. Irrational. “So I can heal it.”
“Why would you do that?” He mocked with a brief breath. Allowing a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “I am not your friend.”
She seemed thoughtful at his previous words and for a second, Michael thought that they might have changed their mind. But instead, a surprised grunt left his lips at her following actions. He felt her reaching out for him; her fingers touched his briefly, pulling his own hand away from the wound he has been pressing on. Lifting up his shirt.
“That doesn’t look good at all. I will have to clean it and you will be quiet for me, think you can do that?”
“How do you know I won’t kill you as you try to heal me?” Michael pressed on as if awaiting for a possible reaction out of her. She just gave him another glance; locking eyes, before looking down at his wound again.
“I don’t. But then, you’d be a hell of an idiot. If I die, you die here. Now I need you to—-“ Whatever she did, it earned a loud wince from the blond male. He deserved it. He knew it. And so did she, by the small smile that hid at corners of lips. He saw that. “To stay quiet.” She added.
The next consisted of him gripping onto her. Long fingers wrapped up around her arm as if he craved to feel something close to him. Perhaps they did. There was an odd feeling of comfort. Shown by kindness for the first time, Michael Langdon just didn’t know that yet.
“Y/N!” Someone else’s voice echoed in the room from the other room. Close to the door . Catching both of them by surprise. She was quick to glance behind her, before turning her attention back on him. “Where are you?”
“Don’t say anything. Don’t make any noise.” She whispered to Michael, her hand gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Perhaps that’s what surprised him the most. She knew he could die there too if someone else found him before he managed to find a way out. Perhaps that was her way of saying farewell. “I will leave with them and you will be able to get out of here.”
That was the last time he saw her. And she left without being aware Michael Langdon’s life was saved, the reason of everyone’s wrath.
After the warm shower, you stood before the mirror. Dressed in the gifted red dress, which complimented your figure and curves. Tonight it was meant to be special, it was the first moonlight festival. A celebration where upcoming weddings were announced. A lovely evening to be courted by someone. A fitting evening to be someone else in the masquerade ball. You told yourself that tonight, that’s what you would do. Forget about the things that have been haunting you for so long and welcome open doors for the future. And maybe, finally, meet the handsome man who has been kind enough to give you a present. It would be a change, maybe for better.
What you would find out later was that the same blond male whose life you’ve saved six months ago and somehow found its way back into your mind, wandered around the same place as you those exact same minutes. In your home, amongst your people, hiding behind a bird mask. Observing, searching for something —— looking for you.
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sasuhinasno1fan · 3 years
Text
Crushing on the rival-Lukadrien June Day 3
Ok, yes I’m technically late, but I don’t care! I wanted to do a Glee AU so bad and this was so hard to do. Usually when reading Glee Klaine fics as lukadrien, Nino is at Dalton since either Nick or Jeff becomes Kurt’s best friend and you can’t split up Nino and Adrien. So Nino attended for a while before budget cuts messed up his scholarship. Kieran is from @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles Divergence. I meant for him to featured just a little more but it just didn’t work out like that. Adrien’s mom is alive but is spliting up with his dad and I put Chloe in Rachel’s position when it came to dating the enemy first since it always comes up in Anderberry fics when Rachel doesn’t say who Blaine is because she doesn’t want to be accused of selling secrets to her brother. Anyway, please enjoy and we’ll see if day 4 actually comes out. Rival Musicians 
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Nino said, adjusting his white tie. He’d forgotten how much he hadn’t been a fan of the Quantic Academy uniform. The pale blue shirts with the black blazers and white ties weren’t his aesthetic and even though it sucked to lose his scholarship, he’d been beyond happy to never put the uniform on again. He looked over to Marc and Nath, who seemed to pull it off with ease.
Totally unfair.
“I can’t believe you let Alya and Marinette bully you into coming to spy.” Nath said.
“No you’re not.” Marc clarified. “Remember how we got together?”
“Yeah, no. this fits perfectly. We should just be glad Chloe wasn’t the one to find out you used to go to school with our competitor. That would have been worse.”
“Yeah, especially since we all experienced her dating the ‘enemy’ last year. Last thing I need is her accusing me of giving secrets away. I really don’t want to bring up her asshole ex in her face. She’s finally starting to open up again.” Nino said.
“Where’s Adrien?” Marc asked, changing the subject. “You made it sound like we have a small window.”
“We do. Assuming things haven’t changed in a year, teachers take the afternoon to have a meeting while letting the students study and such. Or in the Warbler’s case, have impromptu performances to test songs out. If we don’t want to get caught, we need to be there when the mass text goes out and everyone is heading to the Senior Commons.”
Just then, a very familiar silver car pulled up in front of the boys. Adrien climbed out, in a black leather jacket and a white rocker tie but still in the same colours.
“Sorry I’m late. Mom promised the appointment would be over before I had to leave, but divorce proceedings involving my dad aren’t exactly easy. They were arguing over my ‘modelling’ career for a full hour before my mom’s lawyer managed to shut my dad up. I think, that woman speaks like a pirate and is just as ruthless and doesn’t like my dad, so she could have been insulting him for all I know.”
“Sorry you have to deal with this.” Nino said, patting his best friend on his shoulder.
“You haven’t modelled for almost 3 years. Your ‘career’ is just your dad reusing old photos of you for campaigns.” Nath said. “We can only hope we don’t have another instance like when it was your first day at school and you ran into the glee room to hide from your fans.”
“But, hey! We got you out of it.” Nino said. “You stick out like a sore thumb though.”
“It’s not my fault. You said you had enough extra uniforms. You’re the one who didn’t include yourself in the count. Let’s just be happy I have enough clothes to make an iteration of it.” Adrien said.
“Fair enough. Come on.”
All four of them walked into the main building. It was beautiful, a mix of old architecture and new, like a classic hotel or something along the lines. They slowed when Nino did as they approached the front desk, which was thankfully empty with a note to call when arrived.
“I’m so happy the headmaster uses the front desk secretary as his own. I mean, she gives as good as she gets and doesn’t take shit, but she’s also got a practical eidetic memory.” Nino said. “Ok, now there’s a student that we called the Caterpillar – he lived in my dorm and everyone had Alice in Wonderland names – who has access to everyone’s phone number and he’s in the Warblers, so he sends out a massive text message to everyone.”
“How are we even sure they’re planning on doing a performance?” Adrien asked.
“We don’t but I know so close to competition time Marin would want to practise when they have the chance, so at the very least we can peak into the Senior Commons were they practise.”
They got to the first hallway and Adrien saw that what he thought ground level was actually the first floor.
“Cafeteria is downstairs and exits for the gardens and the library. This floor holds some classrooms and common rooms, more classrooms and offices upstairs. The Senior Commons is actually down the hall and downstairs. They got first pick when the place was being built and it has the closest exit to where the dorms are.”
“Should we hang near there or somewhere else?” Nath asked.
However, before Nino could offer a suggestion, the one thing Adrien dreaded pierced through the empty and quite hallway.
“Ohmygod! It’s Adrien Agreste!”
Adrien liked anime, especially the feel-good ones. The one he liked the most was Gakuen Babysitter. The scene before him reminded him of when the twins’ father, a famous actor came to school and was found out by one of the students and suddenly the area around him were swarming with fans. What happened was a bit like that, except screaming boys instead of girls and Adrien actually got a head start in running away.
Nino hated his best friend had to suffer through this, so when he was separated from him and the rest of the guys and only found Marc and Nath not long after, he felt worried.
“Where’s Adrien?”
“We thought he was with you.”
“Ok, screw Marinette and Alya telling us not to get caught.” Nino said, pulling his phone out and scrolling through his contacts until he reached one with the name being just a butterfly emoji. “If they want info, they can come look themselves. My best friend is in a school that’s not desensitized to him being around and we’re find him before we leave.”
Of course, before he could call, he saw a text from the same butterfly named person.
I’m gonna let Marin yell at you for coming to spy.
Nino cursed. He’d been hoping to avoid that. Marinette and Alya were bad and Chloe worse, but Marin lording over him with his gavel, that was something he didn’t miss from attending school here.
But don’t worry. A certain blue haired Hatter was placed in the little Alice’s path. He’ll take care of him. Also, I know a certain March Hare misses you too.
Ok, maybe he’d have to kiss that Caterpillar after all.
                                       ____________________
Adrien slowly opened the door after finally hearing the hallway fill up and all move in one direction. Everyone was speaking excitedly, so no one noticed Adrien slipping out and joining the crowd. He looked around, hoping to see 3 familiar faces but no luck. he didn’t even know if this crowd was people going to see the Warblers. He bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He could ask and then be in a bad spot if someone recognised him or he could ask what was going on and duck into a bathroom if it wasn’t Warblers related. He decided to risk it.
“Excuse me,” he said, tapping someone on the shoulder. The guy had dyed blue hair and when he turned around Adrien saw he had the piercings to match his punk look. The uniform really didn’t match him at all. “Hi, I’m new here. What’s going on?”
He gave Adrien this smirk as if to say, ‘I know why you’re here’. “I’m Luka.”
“Adrien, nice to meet you.”
“Adrien. Well, don’t worry, I won’t scream your name. and to answer your question, the Warblers are doing an impromptu performance.”
“Oh.”
“If you want, I can take you there. You know, bump into your friends who came to spy with you.”
“S-spy? I didn’t come to spy.”
“Right, so your lack of uniform and Nino being here is a happy coincidence.”
Adrien couldn’t really think of a lie, so thrown off. He let out a squeak when Luka grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. This one was emptier and Adrien took a closer at Luka. his uniform was perfect but his shoes were emblem covered high tops. His nails were painted and fingers home to a few rings. He also noticed a few bracelets peaking out from under shirt sleeve. Luka seemed like such an anomaly in his perfect uniform but things that spoke to his personal aesthetic.
Before he knew it, they were back in a crowd as they entered a room, no doubt the Senior Commons.
“Shot, I do stick out like a sore thumb.” Adrien said, once he saw himself compared to everyone.
“I don’t know, I like your version better.” Luka said, tugging at one of the lapels of Adrien’s leather jacket. “Your friends are over there.” He nodded towards the door, where Marc, Nath and Nino were, all standing on their toes trying to look over the crowd. Nino got distracted by someone with light brown hair and purple rain boots, but Marc and Nath spotted him.
“How did…?”
“I’m sure Nino will tell you about the special ways of the Warblers.” Just at the front of the room, 2 lines of boys appeared as they started to create a beat. “Now if you excuse me. Kieran!”
The guy Nino had been talking to darted over to the lines and Adrien took his place, hearing his friends ask him what happened and if he was ok, but his attention was focused on Luka, who stood in the very front singing.
Before you met me, I was alright But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life Now every February, you'll be my Valentine Valentine
Let's go all the way tonight No regrets, just love We can dance until we die You and I will be young forever You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream
He was good, really good. And he kept staring right at Adrien.
“That’s Luka. we were roommates when I was here.” Nino said, finally getting his attention. “He was well on his way to being lead vocalist when I left.”
“He’s really good.”
“Yeah. Don’t let his accessories fool you, he’s a cool guy.”
Yeah, he was.
When the song was over and the room burst into loud applause, cheers and whistles, Luka found his way over, with the same guy who’d been talking to Nino before and two new people. They reminded him a bit of Marinette and Alya, though one of them had a sever expression currently directed at Nino.
“You come spy and you don’t even come to say hello? I’m ashamed of you Nino.” The one who reminded Adrien of Marinette said.
“Please give it a rest Marin.” Nino begged.
“No, no, let him suffer more. I’m enjoying this.” Kieran said.
“Just to check, you’re not going to report us, right?” Marc asked, looking nervous.
“Don’t worry. Your attempts are endearing and we know Nino wouldn’t bring you over here without good reason.” The other guy said. “we’re not planning on using that song for the Sectionals, so you won’t go home empty handed.”
“How about coffee? Nino doesn’t know this, but we finally opened the coffee bar in the cafeteria, student run. We can stay here if you want.” Luka offered.
In the end, Adrien waited in the room, with Nino getting dragged to be lectured by his old friends and Nath and Marc having such complicated orders, it just made more sense to go with them. Adrien looked around the commons, taking in the couches and many side tables. A few had an almost permanent show print in them, like they’d been jumped on. The few people inside the room still paid his no attention, other than glancing at him.
“Here you go.” Luka said, handing him a to go cup. “Nino mentioned you didn’t like coffee so I got you hot chocolate. Better than most cafes, we make our own with milk.”
“Thanks. Where are the others?”
“Kieran is still making Marin lecture Nino and it turns out Alan is a fan of your friends’ comic, so just me for now.”
“That’s fine. Maybe you can tell me why the tables have footprints on them.” Adrien said, tugging his jacket off as Luka plopped down next to him.
“I have a habit of jumping around on tables during practise. Marin yells at me for it, but I can’t help it. Which is surprising, since I’m pretty stationary during performances.”
Adrien let out a little laugh. “You sound like my cat. Doesn’t matter how many cat perches we have for him; he just climbs up anywhere else. Granted, focusing on him and glee has been a godsend for my mental health recently.”
“Yeah, I’m sure dealing with arguing parents and divorce isn’t easy.”
Adrien looked over at Luka, confused as to how he knew that.
“Oh, yeah. My mom is your mom’s lawyer.” Adrien raised an eyebrow not believing him. “She sounds like this.” Luka said in the same thick accent Anarka had.
“Holy, hey wait. Juleka is Anarka’s daughter, which means she’s…”
“My sister. Competing against each other, but don’t worry. Music is sacred in our house so we don’t play dirty.”
“Whoa.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t go fishing for anything. I just thought that things must be pretty difficult. Your dad makes mom pretty upset.”
“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy. The whole divorce hasn’t but this modelling thing is making things worse. Honestly, I’d be happy with glee drama. It’s the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”
“I get that. I’m older than Juleka, but I’ll be graduating at the same time as her because I ended up pulling out of school for a while. During all that, music was the only thing that made sense.”
“Was everything ok?” Adrien asked.
“Come here.” Luka led Adrien over to a piano that sat in the corner. “Take a breath and listen.” He ordered, resting his fingers on the keys. He watched Adrien do as he was told and he let his fingers move across the keys.
Adrien stared as he heard the emotions he’d been feeling were played. Every note and beat was everything.
“I’ve never been good at words. Mom struggled to get me to talk but she knew I liked music, so that started to become my voice. I guess the easiest way to explain it is I’m an empath. I can hear emotions and I tend to stay quiet. Some people at my old school didn’t like that I kept quite or I could play what they felt. Add on the muscle heads who didn’t understand that liking guys didn’t mean I liked them, things got insane. So I left and came here.” Luka ended Adrien’s song and sat on the bench to look at the blonde. “Even though music sort of got me into that mess, I get it being the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”
Adrien sat next to Luka. “And now you have glee. I was running from fans when I ran into our glee room. Mlle Bustier was ok with letting me hide there but when I saw how much fun everyone was having singing, I wanted to do the same. It’s been my escape.”
Luka bumped his elbow into Adrien’s side. “And people think models aren’t anything like us.”
“I’m really sorry you had to deal with that stuff, but I guess if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Nino and he wouldn’t have taken us here and we wouldn’t get to meet.”
“Guess there’s a silver lining for everything. It’s a shame we’re going up against each other in Sectionals. Hanging out with you would be fun.”
“Well,” Adrien said, shrugging, “No one said we can’t text.”
“I thought one of your team members dated a guy from an opposing team?”
“Who said anything about dating? We’re just texting. I mean, Nino texts you and the others, right? What makes me so different?”
Luka let out a laugh. “Fair enough. Adrien Agreste, rebel. I think you’ve been around my mom too much; she’s starting to take an effect on you.”
“You say that as if being a rebel is a bad thing.”
                                          ______________________
Well Adrien wasn’t a rebel, but he did enjoy talking to Luka. he was easy to talk to and they had a lot in common. When employing the same rules Juleka and Luka had on their houseboat when it came to glee, it was easy to forget he was competing against him. Nino encouraged it when he found out.
“Besides, if you end up liking Lu and asking him out, then I can ask Kieran out. Maybe. I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”
It wasn’t hard to like Luka. he was good looking and funny and nice and his singing voice was amazing. But Adrien also knew dating during competition season was asking for another Chloe situation even if Luka would never do what that asshole ex did. So, Adrien made a deal with himself, he’d ask Luka out after Sectionals. One of them would win and then they wouldn’t compete anymore unless a space opened up. It would be fine.
I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets I used to own
I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"
One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
And of course listening to Luka sing Viva la Vida made Marc lean over to him and tell him if he didn’t ask him out, he would.
But like the world was against him, both the most amazing and worst thing happened. They tied. Chole had said how rare that happened. Adrien could only think about how he felt cheated out of asking Luka out. Which was why he waited in the bathroom, waiting for Luka to come in.
“Hi.” Luka said when he came in. he looked a bit disheartened and Adrien really hoped he was reading the reason right.
“Hey. Congratulations by the way. Your Viva la Vida was amazing. Chloe thought so too and she doesn’t compliment the competition much.”
“Thanks. I know you said you were a countertenor but I never expected you to hold that note in So much better.”
“Thanks. Um, listen. I really hope I haven’t been reading the signs wrong, but…I like you, enough to tell myself that after Sectionals were over, no matter what happened, I’d ask you out. But I wasn’t expecting us to both win. But that hasn’t exactly discouraged me.”
“You haven’t been reading them wrong. It was my plan too but it would really be a bad idea to date. The stakes are even higher now. Though…God, Marin might kill me for suggesting this, but how about one date? One date to get it out of our system and to also give us something to look forward to after Regionals. There isn’t a chance we’ll tie again so it’ll be fine after then, but I don’t think either of us can wait that long.”
The door to the bathroom opened and Nino poked his head in. “Adrien, bro. the bus is here, time to go.”
“Yes.” He said to Luka as he headed to the door. “I’ll text you.”
As Nino dragged him to the bus before the group got angry, Adrien told him what he and Luka planned on doing.
“As your teammate, this is a horrible idea. As your best friend, this is the best idea ever and I demand details after.”
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vpyre · 3 years
Text
No Matter How Tremulous the Flame, the Ice Will Always Melt
William hadn’t seen Grelle today, which wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary had she been like any other employee; but with Grelle being Grelle, usually not a day went by without some sort of dramatic entrance or other loud indication of her presence. The last time it had been this quiet was when she’d landed herself in the infirmary in critical condition for reasons he would rather not dwell on at the moment. He tended to avoid thinking about things that involved demons, after all (or was it that there was something else about the memory that he didn’t want to acknowledge…?).
Giving himself a mental slap to refocus, he skirted around that train of thought and back to the here and now. In the here and now, he had paperwork to collect. With a beleaguered sigh, he got up out of his comfortable desk chair, strode towards the dark wooden door of his office, and stepped out into the corridor. He checked that his door was locked before making his way down the hall. While the management division employees were granted private offices in deference to their primary role of checking paperwork and doing other administrative-type things; retrieval division workers had a much more temporary, rudimentary setup, as they were rarely in one place for long.
He walked past rows and rows of cramped and messy cubicles, heading for the filing area in the back where finished work was left to be collected. He was so focused on his task he nearly missed the waving hand from the cubicle he was passing, but he caught it out of the corner of his eye at the last moment. The reaper he was facing was not one he knew well, though he was sure he'd seen him around before. When William was within a conversational distance of him, the reaper (Will thought his name might be Miles) spoke up.
"Any idea what's wrong with Sutcliff? He's been very quiet today, and-"
"She," William cut in automatically, almost distractedly, like he hadn't quite realized he'd spoken; but he didn’t waver or elaborate.
”Fine. She has been very quiet today, and I was wondering if you knew anything about it, seeing as you’re his- er, her favorite reaper and therefore the most likely to hear something. Now, normally I wouldn’t be asking, but the silence’s just throwing me off a bit, to tell you the truth.”
Will frowned. Maybe something really was wrong. He told Miles he’d check up on her, then bade him farewell; he did still have a job to do. He’d pick up his papers, then stop by her cubicle on the way out.
He strode down the wide, cluttered aisle towards the back, pondering what he had heard. Someone walked by, but it took him a good few seconds to drag himself from his thoughts enough to process who it was. To his utter surprise, he found he had actually passed Grelle without noticing her right away. That was unheard of! Her very presence demanded the undivided attention of everyone in the room, without exception. However, it seemed that somehow an exception had been made. He watched her as she continued trudging on in the opposite direction without a word of greeting or even acknowledgement. This was also abnormal. She never ignored him; in fact, it was a constant struggle getting her to leave him be. And he had never seen her hunched into herself like that before, like she hoped she would disappear.
He felt his concern for her well up from where he tried to keep it stuffed away; that deep, dark place on the very fringes of his consciousness. That treacherous pit filled with things and thoughts and feelings he didn't want to face, not that he even knew how to face them to begin with. He hated demons, and that included his own. But that day had changed something in him, and he had let himself feel for the first time in more than a century. Now, he tentatively embraced his worry, though he absolutely refused to show it outwardly in front of all these other reapers. That was where he drew the line.
Despite his reservations, he had to make certain she was alright. Abandoning his bid for the paperwork in the back of the room, he turned and made a beeline for Grelle’s cubicle instead, anxiety pricking at him all the way. What if he said something to make it worse somehow? What if he had spent so long as a cold, emotionless statue of ice that he no longer knew how to comfort someone else? He took a steadying breath. He would try. She’d understand that he was doing his best; she was a thoughtful woman, after all. At the rate he had been going, he likely never would have opened up to emotion at all had it not been for her, and that thought soothed his worry slightly. He just wished he'd been kinder to her before, wished it hadn't taken her nearly dying to defend him to make him realize how much she genuinely cared. He was still in awe of her bravery and selflessness in that moment, in the face of such a terrible foe; an enemy that he despised.
He stopped in what qualified as the doorway of her makeshift office, and when she didn't seem to notice him standing there, he spoke up.
"Sutcliff."
She tensed almost imperceptibly, then looked up at him from her seat at her well-kept desk. "Oh. Hi, Will," she said, a little hoarsely and much quieter than he had ever heard her speak. She cleared her throat, then gave him a smile that might have been convincing had her eyes not given her away. Aside from the redness and ever-so-slight puffiness that her makeup couldn't quite hide, the nature of the thoughts and feelings behind them was impossible to disguise. He could see the pain and exhaustion in them. He could feel it stagnating in the confines of her tiny, constricting cubicle; hanging in the air and darkening her countenance like fog blocking out the sun. No amount of makeup could ever hope to obscure anything when Grelle's emotions, whether positive or negative, were always so powerful. She was like the sun: her warmth radiated out from her, touching everyone in sight; but when that warmth was covered by clouds, leaving only cold and rain, everyone in sight felt the loss.
William was shaken from his musings by her voice. "Is there something you need?"
He sighed. "To be perfectly honest, Grelle, I'm concerned for you. You've been unordinarily quiet today, and I can tell from just being near you that you are not feeling well. If you need a sick day, that can be arranged."
For a moment, she looked surprised- she wasn't used to him caring- then slumped down and let out a sigh of her own. "I'm not sick."
When she didn't elaborate, he asked, "Then what's wrong?"
She looked away and fell silent, but he could feel the tension crackling in the air as her emotions swelled to the surface, despite her efforts to keep them down. Finally, she breathed out, "I'm tired," and it felt like empty space itself had frozen.
Her wavering voice shot lines of striking grey exhaustion through the silence and the stillness, slicing through it like razor wire; like fragile threads of lightning before a sky-cracking boom of thunder. Will felt that if it had been raining, the drops would have hung suspended in space, a manifestation of stopped time. She turned to face him again, and he felt a jolt go through his body when he saw wetness in her eyes. It wasn't from surprise. No, the jolt came from the sheer pervasive power of her pain. It pierced through him in a way he had only ever experienced once before, and he was struck dumb.
This is just like that day, this depth of feeling. I never suspected that her pain was so overwhelming, just as I never thought her affection for me ran so deeply that she would be willing to sacrifice her life to defend me from that demon. What a nightmare that was. I thought she was dead; there was so much blood. She was in the infirmary on the verge of a second death for two days, and in recovery for a week. I never have and never will forget how quiet and empty dispatch felt without her. The whole ordeal shook some humanity back into me, and for that, I will forever be grateful; I just don't ever want to see her suffer again.
But here she was, suffering. She was in pain, and he didn't know what to do; just like that day. The tears in her eyes silently welled up and spilled over, leaving thin tracks as they rolled down her cheeks. He stood uselessly in the doorway, mind frantically racing to think of some way to help her, to make her hurt go away. His thoughts were blurring together, clashing and roiling, whiting out his senses. They were building and building; soon he would burst. When it all got to be too much, he threw logic out the window and gave in to instinct instead. He strode forward, wrapped his arms around her, and just held her. Her body stiffened and her eyes widened, but then she relaxed and sank into his embrace. She broke down and the tension broke with her; the taut cords of repressed emotion snapped, the suspended drops began to fall, the thunder cracked the charged stillness in twain. She buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him closer, squeezing her eyes shut and clenching his suit coat in her fists with the force only granted to someone in the throes of sorrow. He sat still and let her cry; God knows she needed to let it all out somehow. Through her tears, she told him how she was tired of her drawn-out existence, how every time someone mistook her for a man she felt like it chipped a piece off of her soul, how her past haunted her and dogged her every step. She let it all spill out, and William couldn't help but admire the ease with which she expressed her feelings. He admired it, and he hoped that one day he would be able to do the same. If she were anyone else, he doubted he would have even begun to get back in touch with himself, and for that, he would be forever grateful to her.
Gradually, she quieted, sobs turning to quiet tears, tears turning to the occasional sniff. She pulled away and gave him a small smile through red eyes. "I'm surprised that you stayed through all that. I honestly didn't think you would." She looked away, then quietly added, "But I'm glad you cared enough to. Thank you."
He hesitantly laid a hand on her shoulder, and she looked back up at him. He held her gaze and said, "I should be thanking you. You brought me out of my stagnation because you cared enough to; and for that, you have my gratitude- and my friendship if you should so desire. I cannot excuse my prior callous treatment of you, but I can try to make up for it by being here for you now. You are the flame of the dispatch, Grelle. You keep us moving, even if no one else realises that. We wouldn't be functional without you, and neither would I. So thank you."
She sat still for a moment, making nary a sound, and he worried that it was all too much. Then, slowly, her face lit up with a grin and she threw her arms around him again. He felt her returning warmth in her embrace, and he genuinely smiled for the first time in more than a century.
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