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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Lao Nie and Nie Mingjue have a good day together and bond. What was their relationship like before the qi deviation?

Boys - ao3

“Two paths, hmm?” Lao Nie said, squinting at the road markers in front of him. “Well, I don’t see why we can’t go down this one to the right –”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because little uncle asked me not to let you meet any new dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue said, looking as serious as ever – only his little hands, swinging to the side, revealed that he was just a ten-year-old. Still a child, no matter how mature he tried to act. “And a place called the Springtime Ghost Valley sounds like it probably has dangerous women.”

“Hey,” Lao Nie protested mildly. “Who’s the father here, me or you?”

“If a-die wants a new wife, little uncle will find one that isn’t inclined to kill him.”

That sounded like a recitation.

“Then what’s even the point,” Lao Nie grumbled, and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, enjoying how Nie Mingjue yelped when he did, glaring up at him with offended dignity.

In all honesty, Lao Nie had no idea how he’d ended up with a son as serious and sincere and earnest as Nie Mingjue – he himself hadn’t taken anything seriously in years. Probably it was his mother’s influence.

Now that was a woman.

Not that his foxy second wife hadn’t been woman enough to blow him away either…

Hmm.

Perhaps they had a point about his taste in women.

“How about men?” Lao Nie suggested. “If it really means so much to you, I could swear off of women entirely –”

“A-die.”

“Mm?”

“Leave Sect Leader Wen alone.”

Lao Nie cracked up.

Because Lao Nie was the father, however easy-going he might sometimes be, they ended up heading down the right-hand path regardless. They were supposed to be night-hunting, after all – it was the perfect bonding experience according to Jiwei, though Lao Nie suspected his saber of having selfish intentions there – and deliberately avoiding a place with ‘Ghost’ in the name was hardly appropriate for scions of a Great Sect like theirs.

Although the reference to springtime was admittedly a little worrisome.

If it turned out to be a brothel, with the ghost thing being just a clever if somewhat tonedeaf marketing ploy, Lao Nie was turning around and taking them both home at once. He wasn’t going to risk little Nie Mingjue turning out anything like that awful Jin Guangshan – or, nearly as bad, having to explain anything more about the joys of sex to those earnest little button eyes and dimpled cheeks with no time to prepare first. He still hadn’t recovered emotionally from the last few times Nie Mingjue had asked him a question like that.

When they finally reached the end of the path, turning a corner to behold a clearing that was probably completely ordinary during the daytime, Lao Nie found that he’d been both right and wrong.

“It’s a ghost brothel,” he marveled. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.

“Dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue reminded him.

“A-Jue! Let your father live a little!”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

Lao Nie virtuously ignored his slightly judgmental brat of a son. It wouldn’t do him that much harm to go visit for a while, with the risk of Jin Guangshan-ness being relatively minimal; they were ghosts, after all. It was the duty of every cultivator to fight against evil, wherever it lived, no matter its form –

“Fighting? Is that what it’s called?”

“Who taught you sarcasm?” Lao Nie asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer was himself. “I ought to smack them.”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at him. “Fine, it’s fighting, we’ll go fight them. Do you want me to start drawing ghost-repelling talismans?”

“Liberate first!” Lao Nie sang out. “Come on, let’s go see what they’re like – er, that is, I mean, see what grievances they have that are keeping them here, of course. There’s no harm in dangerous women. Just don’t let them eat your yang energy!”

“It’s not my yang energy that I’m worried about, a-die…”

The ghostly madame was an extraordinarily charming person and Lao Nie liked her at once.

Not liked her liked her – he’d fallen head over heels with both of his wives from the first word, and that hadn’t happened here – but still, conversing with her was an extraordinarily enjoyable way to spend time.

She was witty and clever, with a broad range of knowledge and a gift for keeping a conversation lively and exciting; she could meet every verbal riposte with ease, and looked utterly gorgeous and composed the entire time. Sure, she kept trying to lure Lao Nie into an orgy in which all of his yang energy would be slowly sucked out before his body was ripped to pieces and his bones cracked open so that the ghosts could consume the marrow within, but what a way to go, right?

Nie Mingjue spent his time making friends with the ghost prostitutes.

Lao Nie wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

Well, he supposed he’d been expected a range of things – anything from Nie Mingjue getting suckered in by one of the ghosts and needing to be rescued by his father to Nie Mingjue just pulling out his Baxia and trying to stab them because he felt offended by their existence. He wasn’texpecting his ghostly conversational partner to suddenly frown mid-sentence and say, “What is he talking to them about?”

Lao Nie turned his head slightly and started listening.

“– just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you have to work allthe time, surely,” Nie Mingjue was saying, completely serious and earnest in the way he so often was. Lao Nie’s son had in fact inherited his sense of humor, only it tended to be buried fairly deep down and make its way up to the surface in an understated way in the most unexpected times; the rest of the time, he was straightforward to a fault, treating everything sincerely. “The birds in the trees, the animals in the fields – even among prostitutes, even the street-walking ladies know they need to take time to rest! I can’t believe you really have to work every single night. How long has it been since you had a night off?”

The ghost prostitutes around him had contemplative looks on their faces.

“Isn’t the whole point of becoming a vengeful man-eating ghost that you have more power than regular humans? I don’t know, it kind of seems like a bad deal if you have even worse conditions after all that –”

“I’m sorry,” the ghostly madame said, looking irritated underneath all her carefully painted smiles. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment…”

Lao Nie had to bite his hand to keep from laughing out loud.

“I think we’ve all learned a valuable life lesson today,” Lao Nie announced.

Nie Mingjue was pouting again.

“I don’t think we did,” he said, sounding profoundly skeptical. A filial child like Nie Mingjue shouldn’t sound so skeptical of his beloved father’s words of wisdom, really; if Lao Nie wasn’t so heartless, he might be offended. Of course, the skepticism might have originated from the heartlessness, so it was all six of one, half a dozen of the other in the end. “Those poor ghost ladies! They were still fighting each other by the time we left!”

“I’ve never seen a ghost pull another ghost’s hair before,” Lao Nie conceded. It had been brilliant. “One day, someone’s going to figure out a more reliable way to use ghosts to fight ghosts, mark my words.”

“Isn’t that demonic cultivation?”

“Oh, sure,” Lao Nie said, still cheerful. “If whoever it is does too much of it, eventually it’ll build up into a backlash that’ll kill them in some grossly horrific manner. Probably ripped into pieces by the backlash. And that’s not even counting how they’d be ostracized and hunted by the cultivation world first! But still, imagine how exciting it’d be in the meantime!”

“A-die…”

Lao Nie patted Nie Mingjue on the head again, earning another glare. “Immortality is a lie, A-Jue. We’re all here for a short time, each and every one of us, and only the length determined by fate and man. All that matters is what we do with the time that we have, and whether we’ve used it well.”

“To fight against evil wherever it lives, no matter its form?”

“To leave the world a better place than when we entered it, and to let our memories linger in the hearts of those that love us,” Lao Nie said. “Fighting evil is the best way to accomplish the former, and living a good life the latter. And you might as well have a good time doing it, if you can! Everything else is just extra.”

Nie Mingjue thought about that for a moment. “And a-die likes to have second helpings of extras?”

That was true. Lao Nie was a man of prodigious appetites of all sorts.

Despite that, he protested, “That wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I was being serious for once.” Seeing Nie Mingjue’s skeptical look, he made a face. “I can be serious, sometimes!”

“Can you?”

“It’s been known to happen! A date written on a wall will be right once a year.”

“Not if the wall gets painted over.”

“Ouch,” Lao Nie said. “I don’t even understand the metaphor you’re making, and I’m still going ouch.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Mingjue said, utterly unimpressed. “You know, if you wanted one of the ghost ladies to be Third Mother, you would’ve been better off with the one playing the qin, not the ghost madame. She was much more powerful.”

Lao Nie arched his eyebrows. “Was she?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “She had claws like a lizard.”

Lao Nie tried to remember which one of them had been the ghost girl playing the qin. He couldn’t quite remember at first – the women there were all surpassingly lovely, almost to the point of over-saturation – and then suddenly an image came into view, a beauty with a veil and sharp sword-like eyebrows, leaning over the qin with the shining pearl hanging in the center of her forehead dipping down.

And, yes, claws like a lizard.

“Hmm,” Lao Nie said. “That might have been a dragon, actually. You should be careful of those, they’re tricky.”

They’ll rip you and three dozen other cultivators besides into more pieces than can be picked up without blinking an eye, he meant, and you won’t even know what hit you. Avoid at all costs.

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said, blinking. “Oops.”

“…what do you mean, oops?”

“Nothing bad! If I’m not supposed to interact with her, does that mean I should go and give back the gift she gave me?”

“She gave you a – give me that,” Lao Nie said. “This instant.”

“But a-die, you said there’s no harm in dangerous women –”

“For me, you foolish child!”

“I suppose it’s fine,” Lao Nie finally concluded, having inspected the dragon pearl from all angles several times over. “I don’t know how you do this, A-Jue.”

“Do what?”

Lao Nie thought about how his foxy second wife had cooed over his eldest son with a (slightly disturbing) fervor that she otherwise reserved only for eating snacks, and how viciously she’d dealt with anyone who’d even thought of interfering with Nie Mingjue in any way. He was fairly sure he himself had only survived his second marriage on account of having such a charming son.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to explain – or if he even entirely understood. “Anyway, it’s nothing dangerous. Rather the contrary! Dragon pearls like this are given to baby dragons to protect them.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “What feeds on baby dragons?”

“…I think it’s mostly to protect them from themselves,” Lao Nie said, feeling a little uncertain about it himself. “And if it’s not, I don’t think I want to know, to be perfectly honest. There’s fighting evil, which is only right, and then there’s suicide, which is a waste – a wise man should know how to judge the difference between them. Anyway, that wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”

“It wasn’t?”

“It wasn’t, and you aren’t allowed to start worrying about the fate of theoretical baby dragons – I forbid it.” Nie Mingjue scowled. He’d probably started worrying already. “My point was actually that a pearl like this is a remarkably powerful protective tool for cultivators – one of those things that can only be found by chance and not made. Keep this on you, and you’ll never have to fear your opponent in battle.”

Nie Mingjue looked thoughtful.

“What do you want to do with that pearl, anyway?” Lao Nie asked after they’d gotten home and split up just long enough to take a nice long relaxing bath and gobble down dinner. “Do you want to put it in the treasury?”

Nie Mingjue blinked twice, which for him was practically the same as looking terribly shifty-eyed.

“You already did something with it,” Lao Nie deduced. “Something that isn’t using it as intended.”

“Oh, no,” Nie Mingjue said, looking shocked at the mere suggestion. “I’m definitely using it as intended.”

Lao Nie looked him up and down. “You’re not wearing it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use it. Protection from your opponents in proper battle – that seems like cheating!”

Lao Nie felt a slight headache coming on. People who said they wanted a good boy for a son had no idea what they were getting themselves into, he reflected. Why couldn’t he have birthed a complete rascal instead?

“All right,” he said, instead of saying any of that because at the end of the day, bewildering as he might be, Nie Mingjue was his son and he loved him more than anything. “So what did you do with it?”

“I gave it to Huaisang.”

Lao Nie blinked. He supposed that really was using it for its intended purpose – protecting babies from themselves – although he suspected the dragon lady had been thinking of Nie Mingjue as the baby.

“Although…”

Lao Nie raised his eyebrows.

“…I think he may have swallowed it.”

My boys, Lao Nie thought, and had to sit down and hold his ribs because he otherwise feared he might split his sides from laughing so hard. Only my boys.

#mdzs #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #boys

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admirableadmiranda · 3 years

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Debts and balances: or how much does one man have to pay over the course of his life?

Good morning everyone! Today we’re going to be talking about debts, and why Jiang Cheng needs to shut the fuck up on debts because he is the one in the wrong pretty much the entire time.

Let’s start by acknowledging that I am not of this culture so I may perhaps state a thing or two wrong, but I also have several functioning brain cells to rub together and I pay attention so I will probably be more right than most of the “hot takes” I see on why Jiang Cheng is not actually in the wrong here. Because he is. He so is.

So, debts. First of all, there are multiple levels and layers of debts and to whom do you owe them too. So let’s start with the first one where the story is subtle about it and yet both Jiang Cheng and Madam Yu are in the wrong. We know that Cangse Sanren saved Jiang Fengmian’s life at one point when they were young. Life debts are big. To only be alive because of someone else’s actions is a debt that it is possible you will never be able to pay back. There are multiple stories of otherwise good people protecting the obvious villain because they owe that.

Jiang Fengmian’s only way of being able to pay back that debt after Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze die is to take care of their child and raise him how they would have. I.E, as a cultivator. This is not a debt that Wei Wuxian owes to the Jiangs. It is quite literally, the least of what Jiang Fengmian owes him and his parents to do.

Jiang Cheng cannot claim that Wei Wuxian owes them for his life. He is wrong.

Next debt that even Jiang Cheng does not try to claim, only his ever so pleasant stans, the fucking dogs. The fucking dogs that he does not actually give a fuck about.

Wei Wuxian does not ask anyone to do anything about the dogs. He is not in a mental state to. He is in a state of triggered phobia where his brain literally goes into run away screaming mode. This is also not funny and Jiang Cheng is a jackass for making fun of it whenever it happens. Jiang Fengmian is the one who decides that it’s better for the dogs to go. Even though Jiang Cheng is upset, he does not actually hold this as a lingering grudge against Wei Wuxian. He lets it the fuck go. And even if he didn’t, the resentment and anger should be aimed at the person who actually made a decision about it. Not Wei Wuxian. He does not give one singular fuck about his dogs later on. Let the fucking dogs go.

Third off: The Fall of Lotus Pier. There are different levels of blame that we can lay on this. Wei Wuxian is not close to responsible for this. Jiang Cheng knows this and elects to blame him anyway.

The first people we can lay the blame on the fall of Lotus Pier is the Wens, who came with ships, warriors, Wang Lingjiao to rile up the notoriously short tempered asshole Madam Yu, and Wen Zhuliu the Core-Melting Hand. They came prepared for battle and they got what they wanted. Madam Yu is the second one we can lay the blame on, for deciding to attack and demean Wang Lingjiao, not for making her do anything she didn’t want to do, because holy hell did she want to whip Wei Wuxian until he couldn’t move and leapt at the chance to do such a thing, but because Wang Lingjiao is a servant who was elevated by her lover and Madam Yu is a classist asshole. This is the only reason she flips out. Wei Wuxian did nothing wrong. Wei Wuxian does not have the blood of Lotus Pier on his hands, he is tied to Jiang Cheng and told to protect him at the cost of his life, a debt he does not owe.

The four debt he attempts to claim, the only one that might be considered to have some teeth if it weren’t for how much Wei Wuxian gives him back almost immediately. Jiang Cheng goes to distract the Wens from Wei Wuxian and ends up getting captured and losing his golden core. So first off, in this world a golden core is a lot to lose, I won’t deny that. But, first off, Wei Wuxian is only in danger because after being whipped a lot, then strangled, then having to run after Jiang Cheng multiple times because he would rather go die at Lotus Pier than listen to either of his parents and escape, he still goes into town to get them something to eat because otherwise Jiang Cheng would rather lie on the ground and die. Fucking great sect leadership there, huh Jiang Cheng? But yes, Jiang Cheng sees the Wens, sees them notice Wei Wuxian, goes off to distract them and then gets captured and loses his golden core.

Now we’re getting to some of the debts that Jiang Cheng owes and refuses to pay back, because that’s definitely going to get him far in this world. Wei Wuxian in his panic and attempt to find Jiang Cheng, finds Wen Ning, who after some struggles manages to convince him that he can sneak in and get Jiang Cheng back out. In addition, he also retrieves the bodies of Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian. This is huge. Jiang Cheng now owes him both a life debt for again, saving his life at great cost to his own: Wen Ning is literally committing treason here, and also for restoring the lost honor of not being able to bury his parents properly. Wen Ning gives them a proper burial and later after the war he is able to lie them to rest in the Ancestors Hall so their spirits will be at peace and he will have fulfilled his fillial duties. By all means, the debt he owes Wen Ning in particular is so great that he should have taken in every Wen in those camps and sheltered them because it is as close as he will ever get to repaying that debt. And that’s just Wen Ning!

The next debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wen Qing, a genius doctor and respected by Wen Ruohan, who uses the prestige and skills she has to protect both him and Wei Wuxian in at this point enemy territory when they are being actively searched for, being the new sect leader and head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang. She hides them and then later uses her skills to give him a new golden core so that he can go and fight back against his people, revitalizing his clan and eradicating hers. This is another debt that could only really be paid back by protecting her people if she came to him. He owes her literally his life, his power and his people.

The third debt he owes and refuses to pay is to Wei Wuxian, who more than overbalances the scales back in his favor by giving him his golden core. He pays his chance at immortality, his power, his strength, his cultivation, everything that he has to his name so that Jiang Cheng won’t starve himself to death over losing his core. In addition, he tells Jiang Cheng that this comes from a once in a lifetime favor from his mother’s master so even before when he didn’t know about the core, this is still a massive, massive debt, a limitless one time favor from an immortal that he uses Wei Wuxian’s chance to get and never actually thanks him. So at this point, his own golden core as a debt starts to seem a little hollow. Either way, it’s been repaid. An action you do in service of someone else is not a weapon you get to hold over their heads for multiple lives.

Moving on! The next debt he would like to claim is that Wei Wuxian apparently has no right to do things he does not approve of. Excuse me? Is he now a computer program that crashed? What the fuck Jiang Wanyin? Wei Wuxian has less rank than him, although Jiang Cheng is so high rank in this society that he only shares his rank with three other people and there’s no one above him so it would be very hard for him to not be, but he is still a person, with his own thoughts, wishes, dreams, hopes and beliefs. He is not an extension of your hand, to make your clan look good and stand behind you as a hammer to smash on people. Wen Qing goes to Wei Wuxian to ask for help for finding her brother, her people because they are literally being tortured to death. This is a debt that by all means, Jiang Cheng should be repaying. See that part where Wen Ning committed treason to help him and restore his family’s honor? See that part where Wen Qing literally gave him the ability to go back to war against her family? This is the point where anyone with honor would recognize this is the only thing I can do. I will throw myself on my sword if I must, but I must repay this debt to them. There is nothing less I can do. But Jiang Cheng has only the honor of a mangy cur and ignores this, and when Wei Wuxian goes to fulfill this debt, he tells him to stop. To him, his multiple life debts are an inconvience to shoving his nose so far up Jin Guangshan’s ass that he’s tasting what he had for dinner that day.

The next debt that he would like to claim is the death of his brother in law. This is a debt that Wei Wuxian would owe to specific people. This debt is to Jiang Yanli, Jin Guangshan and Jin Ling, one of whom is wanting to forgive it, one who is too small to decide at the time, and one who straight up does not give a fuck beyond advancing his power. Jiang Cheng is not one of these people. His sister is fine, she’s not his concern anymore, she’s a part of the Jin sect. The only reason why he died is that Jiang Cheng decided the best way to repay his debt to Wei Wuxian was to throw a temper tantrum and declare him an enemy to everyone, ripping out every support from under his feet. Regardless, Jiang Cheng is an asshole and does not get to claim this debt.

The final one of Wei Wuxian’s first life that he keeps hurling at him is the death of his sister...the death of his sister who chose to leap between Wei Wuxian and a sword. The death of his sister at a battle that broke out because Jiang Cheng has been with Jin Guangshan whipping the cultivation world into a frenzy against the Wens and Wei Wuxian because of power and jealousy. The battle that would have not happened if they’d left them alone. Jiang Cheng has been to the burial mounds. He has seen the farmers, he has seen the baby there. He has decided that rather than do anything to repay these various deaths, he will kill them on other people’s swords instead. Because he is also a coward and won’t pick fights he can’t win. In addition he likes to steal Yanli’s agency, she’s the one who chose to come, she’s the one who chose to get in the way and she doesn’t die with regrets. And she is not his debt to claim. Again, the one who actually gets to claim this death that Wei Wuxian is not responsible for is Jin Ling, who actually shapes up and decides that it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t blame Wei Wuxian for it. He forgives him his role in that space and moves the fuck on, unlike a certain sir stabby grape mcwhipinnoencts.

And then Wei Wuxian dies and any debts he may have still owed to Jiang Cheng, not that there were any, die with him. Jiang Cheng has no claim on him, he was not part of his sect, they were not brothers in any way, indeed Jiang Cheng called him his enemy. Even most people with far more real grudges at this point would let it go. Wei Wuxian is so dead that no one can find his soul, no matter how hard they look. He comes back to life and reaps the rewards of his actions, finding new allies, getting the chance to actually interact with Jin Ling and make his apologies, and in the end, settle down to a peaceful life with an adoring husband and nothing left to be repaid. If there is still a debt he owes, it is only to Mo Xuanyu, who gave up his entire cycle of life to let Wei Wuxian reincarnate early with his memories, a sacrifice he only asked for repayment in the death of his family. He may owe more still, but that is all Mo Xuanyu wanted from him in repayment for this great sacrifice. The cultivation world is in the wrong when they’re trying to persecute him again for the actions of his previous life, he owes them nothing anymore. The debts he carries towards Jin Ling are the ones he chooses to take on, feeling guilty that he grew up without his parents due to the world’s general actions and also no one else taking responsibility for how far things fell.

That is what Jiang Cheng finally realizes in the temple, crouched on the floor and sobbing like a spoiled child over the golden core sacrifice. Is that he is in the wrong and has been in the wrong the whole time. That there is nothing he can hold onto, no debt that Wei Wuxian ever owed him that he could demand to be paid. He built it all up in his head as he left his honor, his family and his dignity in the wake of his arrogance. And it’s a painful thing to realize, the consequences of your decisions, but all he can do is live with his own ruined reputation, his own loneliness and the fact that no one wants to be around him. He’s blacklisted by multiple matchmakers, his disciples are more like thugs, Wei Wuxian chooses every opportunity to get away from him and even Jin Ling likes him less and less over the course of the book, not forgetting that he seems to prefer Jin Guangyao to begin with as he actually talks to him sometimes and doesn’t hit him. Jiang Cheng refusing to pay his debts gives him exactly what a debt deserter deserves. No one has a reason to trust him. The one bit of positive character growth he does is giving up and not trying to reel him back in by telling him of the sacrifice. At this point, all it would be is just him trying to get another debt he cannot hold because it is long since repaid, never quite made up for what they gave him to make up for it, and worthless in the face of Wei Wuxian’s new life. Wei Wuxian owes him nothing and never has.

Also, just to tally up the relationship between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng on things given between the two of them, Jiang Cheng gives him: a lot of whinging on how unfair it is that Wei Wuxian is a prodigy, and a one time immediately regretted and held over his head sacrifice of a golden core. Whereas Wei Wuxian gives him: many lessons on how to be a kinder person that he ignores, the patience and tolerance of his stinkbug attitude, his love, his affection, his fucking golden core, his reputation, his blood, his livelihood, taking over his debts, trying to keep any of his actions from reflecting on the Jiangs even though if Jiang Cheng had repaid any of the debts he owed, there would have been no problems because if the Jin’s did decide to attack, Wei Wuxian would fight back and he can level battle fields on his own, his honor, his relationships, and even his life in the end, because if Wei Wuxian had ever turned on him like he claimed, he would have been a bloody smeared spot on the ground. And Jiang Cheng gobbles this all up and demands more with Wei Wuxian’s blood and tears dribbling from his mouth.

Would you give that much for someone who doesn’t treat you well? Would you find that a reasonable price to pay for someone who demeans you at every opportunity, who tells you you deserve your misfortunes and that no one likes you? Why are you surprised that in the end Wei Wuxian would rather walk away with people who care about him, why he gives up, leaves any opportunity for anything in Jiang Cheng’s hands. Wei Wuxian has given more than any person should for almost nothing. It is a sign of triumph and victory, of recognizing his own worth and value in the world and who he wants to be with, that he leaves, that he walks away with his head held high. He owes Jiang Cheng nothing, and Jiang Cheng will just have to fucking live with that.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng #let's talk about debt #long post #let's use fuck as a exclamation mark #modaozushi is the story of walking away from an abusive relationship and we should recognize that #no yunmeng reconciliation #wei wuxian #wei wuxian did nothing wrong #addressing common misconceptions when it comes to debts to be paid #let's stop excusing Jiang Cheng avoiding paying any of his debts

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another-fantasy-world · 4 years

Text

Strings Pt. 2

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x Fem!OC

Summary: in which the true queen of vampires found love when she least expected.

Warnings: ...Light Angst? Slowburn and mentions of death,trauma and depression

Timeline: Breaking Dawn - Post-Twilight

Word count: 4, 200 words

!Extra long chapter!

GIF isn’t mine

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The witch couple somehow got Rosalie to agree to their terms, much to her distaste. She still doesn’t know what it is that irks her about the couple, she does not trust them, at all but, she trusts Carlisle. Plus, right now, they have more important matters to attend to.

Various thoughts run through Rosalie’s head, as she stands in the vast snow covered field. She may not show it, but she worries for her adoptive sister as Alice strides through the field handing Aro her hand for him to go through her thoughts and visions.

“Now you know. That’s your future, unless you decide on another course.” Alice states when Aro dropped her hand in shock

Rosalie stands rigid, observing silently as she glares and snarls at their “Royalty”, eyes pitch black. She knows in herself that she would do everything for her family, even if it costs her, her life. She stands there, watching as another hybrid walks into the field, she watches as they question him, She watches as Bella sags slightly in relief knowing that Renesmee is immortal and finally, she smiles knowing that they’ve won as the red-coated vampires blurs into the distance.

Joyous screams of victory rips through the air as she joins her family as they rejoice, happy that they did not have to fight the Volturi today. Together, they walk back to their house where their witnesses say their farewells and leaving.

“We won!” Maggie squeals are she rushed into Rosalie’s arms with Emmett trailing behind her

“Yeah, Yeah. Now I have to suffer an immortal life with the smell of wet dog wafting through the air.” Rosalie smirks

“Hey! I heard that!” Jacob complains

“Tsk. You were supposed to.” She retorts as she walks to Carlisle who was holding Esme in his arms.

But as she was walking, she was suddenly thrown into a void, cold, dark, and starry? She was confused as she looks around, panicking when she couldn’t move.

“What the fuck is going on?!” She tries to move her body but she couldn't, she then feels her body get thrown around like a rag doll.

“This is worse than being forced to ride that death machine. What was is called? Rollie? Roller coaster?” She grumbles in her head as she wills herself to not puke. She didn't even think vampires could still be nauseous.

That went on for what seemed to be hours before she was finally dropped into the ground. Opening her golden eyes, her orbs seemed to hyper focus on the gigantic trees and the creatures that live in it. Her ears then pick up the sound of groaning, turning her head, she sees the rest of her family sprawled all over the forest floor.

“Oh my God! Amore! You didn't have to paralyze them that hard!” Veronica thumps Amore in the head.

“I sincerely apologize for what she has done. We needed to take you far away from Forks, The Volturi Coven changed their minds and decided to ambush you and your witnesses. Fear not, your witnesses have been teleported to their homes safe and sound.” Veronica explains while still glaring at the pouting Amore.

“What was that anyways?” Edward groans as he sits up'

“Teleportation. I needed to paralyze you, that lowers the chance of you losing a limb.” Amore explains while Veronica cast a cloud of blue upon them, seemingly healing their “injuries”

“Cooooool. Can we do it again?” Emmett brightens like a child getting a puppy for the first time.

“No.” They all deadpanned at him making Veronica and Amore chuckle.

“Well, I suggest we get going now, even with our speed, it's still a long way to run.” Veronica dusts herself off as she and Amore help the family up and the still dazed shifters.

“Long way to run where?” Jacob asks, utterly confused.

“To the palace of course.” Veronica smiles

“It's high time you guys meet the Queen.” Amore smirks and winks as she speeds off, followed by Veronica then the Cullens and then the Black Pack.

Anastasia pinched her temples in pure stress, the Cullens were coming to visit and everything was in utter chaos. Mud was smeared all over the walls, broken dishes and glass cluttered the floor as little children run past her, screaming her ears off.

“Lance, darling. Clean this up before I rip someone's head off. Make sure this place is spotless before the guests arrive. Get the pups back to their mothers, the children back to the village and contact Maxine, there's a few shifters accompanying the Cullens. I'll be in my lab.” She orders her personal butler who scrambles around trying to get people to help him.

Anastasia ventures down, down until she reaches her own personal laboratory where she herself develops her own type of blood. She's repulsed by the thought of drinking from a clueless human no matter how annoying they are and disgusted at the thought of killing an innocent animal just so she could satiate her desire of drinking blood. And because of this artificial blood, her eyes slowly turn into the rich dark violet that it is now.

As she works, combining different substances and powders that vary colors, her mind drifts to a certain blonde girl. Anastasia for the life of her, cannot even think of what she would do where she faces the blonde beauty, not when her heart if filled with guilt.

1932 Rochester, New York

Anastasia roamed the streets as she keeps her eyes trained on the single glowing golden string attached to her, amongst the other colors. She was born this way, even when she was just a little human, she could always see strings. Of course her feeble mind at that time didn't understand what it was, but now she could. As a vampire, she practiced and willed her strings to be more color coded, since the mere chaos of tangled strings give her a headache. The strings connected each creature in this world, once you make an acquaintance, a blue string connects the two of you and that soon escalates into different colors, However, one color lets her see soulmates, and that's green, which is why she's now following this glowing gold string to wherever it may go. She was tempted to just yank the string as hard as she could and let the creature on the other side find her but somehow, something was holding her back.

As she walked the streets of New York, head held high, she also ignored the stares that she got while walking. She knew why of course, her Italian clothing much different from the posh American clothing everyone around her has, not to mention she was wearing clothes meant for “men” but she never was the one to abide to gender constructs. She also couldn't, for the life of her, think about what she would do when she meets the creature on the other end of the string. Should she kill it? Should she keep it? Should she protect it? Should she-

Her thoughts were then interrupted when her eyes suddenly tunnel visioned. There 'it' was, the 'creature' on the other end of her string, 'it' was actually a woman. An insanely attractive human, being fawned over by boys as she walks by and she was smiling at the small group girls crowding her. Anastasia could suddenly feel the emotions of the said woman: Happiness, Pride, and a little twinge of loneliness and sadness. Anastasia's heart (despite being half-dead) tightened in her chest, she wanted to do everything and anything to make the woman happy. She didn't even care that she just saw her mere minutes ago, she wanted her and only her. And that's when she realized, this woman, no, this angel was meant to be hers. But then again, Anastasia knew that the woman was too good for her, she doesn't deserve this life of pain and eternal suffering, seeing the people you once loved grow old and eventually die, yet she also knew that she cannot live without her, so she settled with being her protector.

“Mr. Lombardi? Did I pronounce that right?” Mr. Hale questioned her, she had managed to manipulate her looks to make her look like a man.

“Yes sir.” Anastasia answered, she named herself Gioele for the sake of her facade.

“And why should I let you protect my daughter?” Mr. Hale raised his eyebrows, staring at the 'guy' infront of him.

“With The Great Depression still happening, I believe your daughter might be in danger. You and your success may make you a target for those who are below you, poor unfortunate...” She trailed off, her moral compass preventing her from saying derogatory words but she knew she had to play by his personality and rules

“We do not talk about them.” Mr. Hale deadpanned

“Yes sir.” 'Gioele' agreed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Very well then. You have piqued my interest. One wrong move and you'll find yourself hanging on a rope by your neck.” He threatened just as someone entered.

“Father? Mother requested your presence.” Anastasia's eyes widen when she hears the soft, melodic voice right behind her.

“Rosalie! Perfect timing. This is Gioele Lombardi, he will be protecting you from those awful lowlifes scattered around the streets.” Mr. Hale introduces Anastasia to Rosalie who in turn looked at her.

“Rosalie. Rosalie Hale.” She introduces her self while Anastasia promply goes down on one knee and kisses her hand.

“My Pleasure.” She smiled, seeing the faint blush on Rosalie's cheeks.

Anastasia stood up, offering her arm to Rosalie who accepted and they both followed Mr. Hale outside, Anastasia holding up an umbrella to shield Rosalie and herself from the sun. She didn't sparkle as much as other vampires do but it would have been really suspicious when people see her faint sparkle as her marble like skin hits the rays of the sun.

And in that afternoon alone, Rosalie Hale became more popular, people talked about the attractive guard and of course Rosalie's beauty. Anastasia was annoyed at how people spoke about her and her mate, while they were walking around the city. Rosalie noticed and distracted her by asking her questions and answering questions directed to her as well.

Anastasia just felt herself fall even more as days pass by, She would sit by Rosalie's side while she reads her books, She would accompany her on walks and would help her pick flowers as well. She knew all about Rosalie but Rosalie only knew things Anastasia want her to, that doesn't include the fact that she's a woman and not a man and also the fact that she's an actual vampire. And that proved to be in her disadvantage later on.

A year pass by quickly with Anastasia enjoying every single second she spends with her soulmate, she could feel Rosalie radiating happiness whenever she's around, but of course, Rosalie was getting suspicious as well. It may be because of that one time where they were caught in the rain and their umbrella was much too small for 2 persons so Anastasia insist on Rosalie using it, leaving her wet, making her clothes stick to her body, and even under the dim light, Rosalie could make out a feminine body, toned but still feminine and that left her thinking if she truly knew her guard as well as she thought she did.

One day, Rosalie was sent on an errand to deliver her father's 'forgotten' lunch, and Anastasia knew it was a bunch of shit. She heard the couple discussing their plans to hopefully attract the attention of Royce King II and they succeeded, she had to watch as Rosalie and Royce flirt with each other, with her silently seething, forgotten. She had to hide her growls and snarls whenever flowers would be delivered at the Hale Household, but she couldn't do anything, Rosalie deserved someone who could grow old with her, and not a half-ling abomination like her. So she accepted the fate she wished upon herself and made the hardest decision of her life.

The day Rosalie was engaged, she packed her bags and set to leave but unfortunately, Rosalie caught her. And what she did that day, she still regrets up until now.

“Gioele? You are leaving.” Rosalie states, stunned.

“Don't. Don't stop me Ms. Hale. Or should I say Mrs. King?” Anastasia spat out, and she internally flinched when she saw the pain in Rosalie's eyes.

“Where did this come from Gio?” Gio, Rosalie's nickname for her alter ego. She couldn't handle it anymore and looked around before gently dragging Rosalie into an empty room in their house.

“Look, my name's not Gioele.” Anastasia removes the glamour she placed on herself and watched as Rosalie stare at her in shock.

“It's Anastasia. And yes. I am leaving. You are to be married to Royce King II and I cannot get in between that.” She stares at Rosalie's eyes, hoping to relay her feelings, but Rosalie was still much too hurt from her best friend lying to her.

“You lied. You broke two of your promises Lombardi. Is that even your real surname? It is not, is it? God. Why must I be so stupid! Go! Leave! Find some other woman to lie to!” Rosalie walks away from her

“Rosalie! Wait!” She tried to chase after her but Rosalie just turned around and slapped her, she was shocked, not only because the love of her life slapped her, it's also because Rosalie managed to crack the base of her neck. She lifted her hand to cover the cracks that were covering the base of her marble like neck.

“Rose...” She stared at Rosalie.

“Leave.” Rosalie glared, and Anastasia knew that this was her chance... to let go of her soulmate... in the most painful way possible.

“Fine...” She growled out “...I never liked you anyways, You self-centered, smug woman who only lives to please her father and the people around you. I hope you and your cold heart enjoy your loveless marriage!” She grabs her bags and walks away, not bothering to turn back, knowing that if she sees Rosalie's face and the raw emotions in her eyes, she'll just turn back and beg for forgiveness.

But of course, she couldn't stay away, no matter how hard she tried, she just can't so she lingered, hiding herself in the shadows, watching as Rosalie walked the paths they used to walk on, with Royce accompanying her, his arm hooked on hers as they chatted happily. It took everything in Anastasia to not rip off Royce's head whenever she knew he was making Rosalie uncomfortable and It took everything in her to not steal Rosalie away from him.

She was lingering around Vera's house, Rosalie was in there, cradling the baby boy in her arms as she cooed at him. Anastasia smiled as she saw her mate being all cute, she longed to have that with her, but alas she couldn't.

She was just enjoying herself when suddenly a body slammed into her, they fought for the upper hand as they kept tumbling around. Anastasia would straddle the man and he would flip her as well, she knew he was a vampire and didn't bother to pull her punches, cracking his marble like skin while he, in turn would also punch her face. The only difference they had was, Anastasia is actually bleeding. After what went on like hours, something snapped, Anastasia knew something was wrong with her mate so her eyes glowed a bright red, she threw the man off her and tied him with her strings. She growled at him before speeding off, following the slowly fading golden string. She ran as fast as she could, but she was too late.

“Rose?” she stared in horror as the body of her beloved, sprawled on the sidewalk, bleeding out.

“Stasia?” She turned her head and saw Carlisle standing behind her.

“Carlisle! I beg of you, Please save her. Turn her Carlisle please!” Anastasia begged Carlisle

“What happened? I smelt the blood.” Carlisle knelt beside the barely alive Rosalie.

“Turn her first then I'll explain.” Anastasia choked out as she closed her eyes just in time for Carlisle's teeth sinking into Rosalie's skin

She shook with anger and decided that she'll chase after whoever did this to her, her ears hyper focused, trying to find whoever did it. And that's when she heard it: Royce King II.

“I need to find a new fiancee now.” He laughed as his friends expressed their joy in letting them-

Anastasia let out a loud guttural growl as she prepared to speed away but Carlisle held her back.

“Don't. She needs you first.” Carlisle motioned to Rosalie who's writhing in pain. She immediately scooped her mate into her arms and followed Carlisle's mate string, which led her to a two floor house, she barged in with Carlisle hot on her heels.

“Lay her here.” He instructed the distressed Queen.

“Will she be okay Carlisle?” She asked the doctor as he kissed his mate in her forehead.

“Yes. Give it a couple of days, Your Highness.” Carlisle reassured her as she swallowed back her sobs.

“Very well. Uh. My apologies, I barged in without your permission. My name is Anastasia. You must be Carlisle's lover?” She offered her hand to the older woman who in turn just gave her a hug.

“It's fine. Really. You are welcome here. Carlisle told me all about you.” Esme smiled and Anastasia just smirked at Carlisle.

“Still thinking about me Cullen?” Anastasia teased, taking Rosalie's hand into hers and gripping it, calming her nerves.

“He talks about you everyday.” Esme smiled at her.

Anastasia was about to reply when the doors opened and in came...

“You.” Anastasia growled and lunged at the man. He dodged but she caught his arm and used her momentum to flip him over, throwing him through the wall and into the backyard, making him land flat on his back. The man coughed as Anastasia straddled him, planting her foot to the ground, her strings glowing a bright red as they wrap around him as she slowly ripped his head off.

“Anastasia! He's my son!” Carlisle cried out as Anastasia snapped at him, eyes widening in surprise.

“He's yours?” Anastasia's eyes glowed a bright red and Carlisle felt his entire body shiver.

“Y-Yes.” Carlisle stuttered, the murderous aura surrounding Anastasia triggering his fight or flight.

“He is the reason why I didn't get to my mate fast enough. He lunged at me for no reason, leaving my mate in a vulnerable position AND LOOK WHERE SHE IS RIGHT NOW! SHE'S FIGHTING FOR HER LIFE CARLISLE!” Anastasia's body shook in anger

Carlisle could see the cracks growing on Edward's skin, and he slowly approached the furious queen. He managed to calm Anastasia down by sending calming waves into his strings, decades of working alongside the queen was proven to be useful in this moment. The ropes that were once wrapped around Edward slowly loosened until they retreated back into her body.

Edward wheezed as he moved away from her while Anastasia composed herself.

“Teach your son better manner s, Carlisle or the next time we meet, you'll see his decapitated head decorating the Volturi Walls.” Anastasia threatened as she walks calmly back into the house through the wall that she made and sat beside her unconscious mate. She noticed the golden string slowly go back to it's natural glow, which made her sigh in relief.

A couple of hours pass by and Anastasia was feeling hungry, she asked for Carlisle's help in looking for food in the forest and he told her where the majority of the animals lived and she set off. While she was hunting, she couldn't help but feel like she failed Rosalie. She let her become something that she protected her from. A Vampire.

Once she had her fill, she slowly walked back to where Carlisle lives, delaying her arrival as much as possible, dreading the fact that she knew Rosalie was awake. She could feel it. She took a deep breath and opened the door, making everyone's head snap towards her. Her eyes caught Rosalie's and instantly, they connected, more so than before, which means that Anastasia feels what Rosalie feels 100 times more than before. Pain, Sadness, Longing and Hatred. And that's when she knew, she knew that Rosalie hated her. Her soulmate hated her. The thought weighed on top of her, slowly crushing her heart, she physically gasped for breath as she could feel Rosalie's anger increased tenfold.

“Rose. Let me-”

“Don't Anastasia. Do what you do best, leave.” Rosalie answered her, putting emphasis on her real name. She tried to move closer but Rosalie only moved and sped out of the house, with Carlisle trailing after the newborn.

She was about to follow as well when Edward stopped her.

“I apologize for my actions earlier, I truly believed that you were preying on them, that's why I attacked you, but you should really trust me when I say that you shouldn't follow her. She's angry.” Edward quickly explained

“And how do you know that?” She asked.

“I can read minds.” Edward simply states, nodding at her.

Anastasia nodded, defeated and sat on a chair with Esme right beside her.

“Give her some time.” Esme advises, rubbing the girl's back.

She gritted her teeth when she felt Rosalie's pain. Not physical, emotional. And she has the power to take it away. But with a great price. A price she was willing to take.

When the Cullen family was complete, with Rosalie, Anastasia quickly worked her gift. Wrapping her strings around them and re-writing their memories, without her in it. Except for Carlisle's, she left some memories of him working alongside her while in the Volturi. Once she finished, she quickly speeds away and forces herself to leave the memories and pain she just took into the back of her mind as she wiped her bleeding nose, her body collapsing under a big tree due to the exhaustion.

She was pulled back into reality when the beaker she was holding in her hand exploded, drenching her in artificial blood. She gritted her teeth, there were two things that could've happened. One, she mixed the wrong chemicals while day dreaming or two, Amore decided to switch the labels again.

She checked everything, and then found out the second one was the truth, she stormed out of her lab, blood dripping from every inch of her body. Her annoyance clouded her brain, forgetting that she sent Amore to pick up the Cullens and if she was here, then so were The Cullens.

She spotted Amore from afar and sped towards her, slamming her against the brick walls of her “castle” . She hated that term.

“What did I tell you about switching my labels Lewis?! Look at me! Blood is in every crevice in my body! There's blood in parts that I didn't even knew were exposed!” She growled out

“Well, to be f-fair, You aren't wearing your usual lab attire so that's partially your fault.” Amore choked out. Anastasia just growls in response.

“Stasia, calm yourself. First impressions are important.” Veronica waves her hand and Anastasia's clothes were back to normal, dry and there was no trace of blood anywhere.

First Impressions? Anastasia then mentally facepalmed herself. She had forgotten the Cullen Family. She releases Amore, then turned to the family, recalling her speech, she started to talk.

“Hello. Sorry you had to see that, but you should really get used to it. My name is Anastasia...” She drifted off as her violet orbs met golden ones. In her brief moment of surprise, she unknowingly let down her guard, causing her previously cast spell break. She knew that her mate would be there and she mentally prepared herself but turns out, she wasn’t prepared at all. When she recovered from her shock, she could feel that her spell had been broken. The entire coven looked at her with various emotions: Happiness, Confusion, Longing and Familiarity. She may or may not have met all the members before and also wiped their memories.

“Gio...” Rosalie whispered.

“Shit...” Anastasia cursed, she somehow knew this would happen, just not this soon.

“Rose...” She stared at her mate for what seemed like years before Rosalie glared at her with so much anger she didn't know it was possible, and stormed off. Again.

'She always does that.' Anastasia sighs.

“Well, that secret's out. I'll escort you to you ro-”

“We'll do it. Chase after her.” Veronica pats her back before escorting the Family to their respective chambers, but Carlisle stayed behind.

“That... was messed up Anastasiarine.” Carlisle expressed his disappointment before pulling the girl in a brief hug.

“I missed you too Cullen.” She whispered before letting go to chase after her mate.

“I'm sorry. Please forgive me.” She sent that thought to the Cullen Family, including Rosalie and went back to what she did 75 years ago.

She was once again, chasing the glowing gold string.

#rosalie hale #rosalie hale x oc #jasper hale x alice cullen #edward cullen x bella swan #carlisle x esme #olympic coven #cullen clan #the cullens #cullen family #the volturi #rosalie cullen #rosalie hale x fem oc #platonic carlisle x oc #The Cullens x OC #The Volturi x OC #rosalie twilight #rosalie #rosalie hale x reader #rosalie lillian hale

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writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 3 years

Text

Made not Born: Part 1

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix)

Pairing: Jaskier x Plus Size! Goddess! Reader

Warnings:

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Summary: You’re a goddess of little things, but you were made not born. You tire of immortality, of the glitter that does not fade, of watching those around you grow and age and falter and die. You help Jaskier in a moment of need and in return he tries to help you. Perhaps you find yourself falling in love along the way.

Notes:

You find him by the roadside. You’ve followed his journeys, one of the many mortals you enjoy watching the life of, and now you find him in need of help. His clothes are dirtied, he is sat in a muddy ditch, hair misplaced and blood bleeding from the broken skin of his lip. He is beaten and he is bloody, but not dangerously so. But you are a minor goddess, good for healing little wounds and mending small broken things.

You don’t answer his questioning calls until you’ve placed a hand on his cheek and the bruises have faded, the cuts stitching themselves back together, the rips in his doublet mending. You doubt he knows what god you are, few do, but his eyes glimmer with recognition as he takes in your form. You are the homeliest looking of the gods, although by mortal standards anything but. Your hips are wide, your stomach soft, your skin is covered in marks and scars from your previous mortal life. Your hair does not shine and your eyes do not glow. You looked as you did in your mortal life, only with something extra, something which mortals could never place a finger on and could never quite describe. It was an essence that let them know you were more than them, something else, something other. For some this bred fear, other’s awe, some comfort, and many curiosity.

“You’re Desara” He lifts himself from his place sitting, only to kneel instead. Blue eyes twinkling up at you, taking in the strands of your hair, the colour of your eyes, the way your dress falls around your body as if purposefully effortless. He tries not to stare, he really does, but he’s never met a god before and you’re...godly, no...otherworldly, effortlessly beautiful, shining like a beacon and, most of all, you look kind. There is a softness in your face that he never expected a god to have, he always imagined there would be glares and glowering, thunderbolts and lightning. He always thought gods were supposed to be frightening. You were the opposite of what he had imagined, you gave off a feeling of comfort and safety that had his shoulders relaxing without a thought.

“That’s what you mortals call me...I go by Y/N...” You rest your hands on his shoulders and urge him to rise, he towers above you. Another thing he thought impossible. He always imagined the gods doing the towering, but he has to angle his head downwards to look you in the eye. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to look a god in the eye...he’s not sure what godly etiquette is. He’s fully prepared to make a massive faux pas and be struck down with some sort of plague or be crushed under the might of your godly powers.

“Well, that’s very...”

“It’s a very mundane name, I know. I wasn’t always a goddess, you know?” You say with a small little smile, coy, playful. He shakes his head and swallows hard. He will admit he knows your name, knows that you are a minor goddess, known for little things, but he does not know what little things and he does not know your story or history. He always imagined that Gods were born. That they simply burst into existence or rather they existed and birthed everything else. He’d be lying if he said he was an overly devout man, he’d seen enough to be open minded, but had never been one for leaving offerings at shrines or speaking out prayers and thanks.

“I was once a farmer’s daughter. I sowed the seeds, I threshed the wheat, I brought in the harvest...and then one day a god came to me and decided to make me a god too. She believed they needed more, believed she could create something more of me. I think she believed I’d become a great one, a powerful one.” You laugh and he thinks it is supposed to sound bitter and humourless, but instead it sounds soft on the breeze like the light strumming of his lute or the sound of birdsong on a spring morning. “So I became Desara, Goddess of the little things, the warmth of a hearth, the feeling of home after a long journey. Goddess of small creatures and little deeds, of jaunty tunes and a noiseless breeze. Goddess of the seed that roots and the weed that dies, Goddess of the daisy chains and flower crowns. Of worms and of rhymes. Of broken noses and split lips. My powers are minor and few pray to me. Mostly, little children who find my rhymes and songs amusing or who wind chains of flowers for their friends. They soon forget, however.”

“A rather impressive list, oh beautiful creature, oh mighty goddess” He is not sure how anyone could forget you. If you consider yourself minor and unimpressive he cannot imagine what the other gods are like, but he finds that he has no interest in finding out.

“Please. Y/N. I do not enjoy being....grovelled too or worshipped. I am so tired, Julian Alfred Pankratz. I have lived so long and so lonely.”

“If I am to call you Y/N, then please call me Jaskier.” There is a pause before he continues, “Surely you have admirers at your beck and call?” He cannot imagine you without them. Cannot imagine why men and women would not flock to worship at your feet, why they would not revel in the swell of your hips or the softness of your body, the kindness of your face, or the gentle nature of your words. It seemed to him that anyone would be a fool not to admire and worship you.

“Admirers are not loves. They grovel, they seek, they desire, they want, but they do not wish to truly know or listen or care. What I would give to be mortal again, to live in the moment, to know there is an end. To be loved for myself, a farmer’s daughter and not a goddess.”

“Is there not some way to do so? To become mortal, I mean?” He doesn’t pretend to know much about these sorts of things, that was always Geralt’s area of expertise, but it makes sense to him that anything that is made can be unmade, anything that is fixed can be broken.

“For all my years, my knowledge of gods and kings, monsters and men is rather limited. If there is, I doubt the other God’s would tell me for fear that in some hateful fury I might make them mortal. Although I tend to avoid them where possible and would much rather leave them to their quibbling and return to a simpler life”

“Your predicament moves me, Y/N...I am humbled in your presence, “ You go to cut him off and chastise but he stops you, “Not because you are a god or some immortal being but because it is clear to me you have a mortal soul longing for what mortals do. Love.” Perhaps he is flowery with his words, like most bards are, but you decide that he truly means what he says, no matter how poetic it might appear.

“If you will permit me, I would try to help? I have little knowledge on the subject of Gods, but I know a friend who might know where to look.”

“The Witcher.” He looks surprised, “Us Gods watch, you know. From our skies and our seas and our grasses and our trees. I find you enjoyable in your journeys, Toss a Coin to Your Witcher really was a masterpiece,”

“-Why thank yo-” You cut off the thanks, not needing thanks for speaking what you feel is the truth.

“I watch and I know things. He is your friend and you are right, he knows a great deal about my kind and all the tricks to make or break us...do stress that I was not born a god, I was made...and surely what was made can be unmade?” You take a deep breath and humble yourself, kneeling in front of him in a way none of the other gods would, “I...thank you, Jaskier...I wish to be me again and I no longer wish to be so old and weary and never age. Thank you for trying even if an answer cannot be found.”

“I’ll find an answer. For good or ill. I’ve never had a quest of my own before, a true adventure, and I refuse to fail you, Y/N. I hope I can return your mortality.” You feel a little of your composure slip at the genuine kindness and determination in his voice, at the hopefully gleam in his blue eyes. You blink away what tears have filled your eyes and stand up to lean forward, pressing a thankful kiss to his forehead, gentleness you bestow upon any you can, but rarely with such genuine feeling.

“Thank you, Jaskier. I will aid in what little ways I can, but I am no greater god, I cannot do much but mend small breaks, and soothe little hurts.” It’s a warning, kindly, but one to remind him that if he needs help greater than you can give then there is little you can do. It would pain you to see one of your favourite mortals perish in an effort to help you, you wanted your mortality, but not at the cost of a life. Perhaps your mortality wasn’t even possible to regain.

You leave him there, kneeling in the dirt with soft eyes and a softer heart. To him it seems as if you become one with the leaves and the trees, drifting off to somewhere unknown and his eyes follow for as long as they can before you disappear entirely. He steels himself, rising from the ground, tugging on his now mended doublet and grabbing his lute. He has a witcher to find and despite their current differences, Geralt had made it quite clear that he didn’t want the bard hanging around, Jaskier needed his help and he would put up with the grump for you. A kind goddess in need of help regaining her mortality, beautiful as the sunrise and quiet as the moon, well, that was just a song that needed to be written and a story that needed to be told.

#made not born #jaskier x reader #jaskier/reader #jaskierxreader #jaskier / reader #plus size reader #overweight reader #female reader #female identifying reader #readerinsert #reader insert #the witcher #the witcher readerinsert #the witcher reader

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cherrywoes · 3 years

Text

inferno.

𝘼𝘾𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀:

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘. 𝘈𝘚𝘊𝘐𝘈𝘕.

— a person who has no shadow.

HELL IS THE personification of human sin. Despite the various myths and unknown facts that humans exchange between each other, each faction with different or slightly changed beliefs, the truth was this: hell has no ruler, nor was it ever meant to be something to rule over. A creation of God, it was meant to punish those who followed Lucifer in his rebellion and keep the Morningstar himself imprisoned before the return of Jesus upon the Earth. Until then, the souls of mortals would linger in limbo, never in peace, but waiting for a judgement that was uncertain.

The Nameless One had no issue with leaving Lucifer to his punishment—it was his punishment, after all, one he had no part in. At least, not by any stone cold allegiance to an angel who was no less interesting than any other who had fallen into the layers of Hell for the side they had chosen. He had spent long enough in the freezing bowels of Cocytus, reliving memory after memory, pushing past feelings of envy, guilt, sadness, all of it manufactured to torture him until the next coming of Christ, where he would be released and smote down as quickly as he had been freed from his prison. He refused to sit and wallow in wrath and insufferable pride, like the once great Lucifer, and he grew weary of this repetitive cycle—the same punishments, the same hellish overseers who chained him to slabs of frigid marble and allowed frozen creatures of ice and snow to peck at his inhuman flesh until there was nothing left of him. He would renew himself, and he would be on to the next, a permanent, never ending cycle that he was determined to be rid of even if it cost him his life.

Whispers from demons who made contracts with humans reached his ears, like it did with every other ancient being locked in Cocytus. They paid them no mind, but the Nameless One listened, and listened closely, reaching for any scrap of information that might let him escape and earn his freedom once more. The demons, posing as their overseers in phases, would make deals with humans for anything—wealth, extended life, healing, wisdom—in exchange for their immortal souls. It was easy enough for them to sign them over willingly, for no demon had the power to rend souls from mortal coils as the long vanished Archangel, Azrael, did. The humans got what they wanted for a century or so and when it was time for them to pay, the demons would scoop up their souls as payment before they ever reached Edom, the Realm Between.

Over thousands of years, humanity changed. The Nameless One was not surprised when they quickly surpassed the need for making contracts with his admittedly disgusting overseers; many of them worshipped his Creator in one century and disregarded Him the next, fluctuating in rapid and interesting cycles of belief and disbelief and even going as far as to kill in His name—a sin that would earn them quite the nice place in Cocytus, if it was awful enough. The most recent event discovered a splitting, a chasm between belief and disbelief or outright hereticism.

By then, the Nameless One had grown tired of listening, tired of the aches and pains in his bones and flesh, tired of the endless amount of scars that formed on his body from divine weapons used against him. He did not recognize the immortal body given to him by God any longer. It was wrought with damage, with darkness that seeped into him over thousands of centuries of torture and anguish and pain, creating a place right alongside his angelic soul that threatened to snuff out the light of his divinity any time he wavered. The entirety of Cocytus was dyed gold from the blood of the angels who had fallen, creating a mimicry of a golden city draped with chains and occupied by demons far older than he was.

“An angel made his way out of the gate,” one of the demons overseeing his punishment told another, brandishing a cat o’ nine tails against the hard ice wall to test its strength. The knots and metal shards ripped away chunks and left ragged scratches in its wake, each individual tumbling past the Nameless One’s eyesight. “Left his angelic soul behind and climbed right out into the human world. Once he was gone, the Hounds couldn’t find him over the stench of humanity.”

“The man on high isn’t doing anything?”

The demon swung the cat o’ nine tails down across the angel’s shoulders and shoulder blades harshly. It cracked against skin and cartilage, ripping away flesh and muscle and sending blood scattering across the already gold stained walls. The Nameless One was numb to it, far too used to the pain to manage a scream, and felt another lash against the back of his legs, severing the ligament in his knee keeping him upright. He sunk to the ground and earned another lash to his head, chunks of hair and flesh leaving with every scrape of the knots and metal.

“No, ever since his incarnation died and returned he’s been absent from human life.” The demon shrugged. “No one knows why. Orders haven’t changed, though, so we’re going to be here until the second coming.”

Demons talked like humans, oddly enough, after spending enough time in the mortal world. It had started after the rise in worshippers of Lucifer—which the Nameless One found the tiniest bit funny—and they had picked up slang and little fragments of human made language since then, to the point where the Nameless One had picked it up as well and understood when they spoke with contractions and odd metaphors like ‘a cat has nine lives’. A cat did not have nine lives, but he figured the sentiment was more widely used by mortals rather than demons.

But he had his way out now—all that was left to do was separate his angelic soul from… whatever the darkness was that clung to it like a lifeline. He wasn’t sure what it was—it did not feel like anything he had ever felt before in his thousands of years being alive. Not even Lucifer felt as he did, as if there was a second entity slumbering away inside him waiting to reach up and strangle his immortal soul down into the abyss it had come from. He had no name for it, no clue as to when it had begun to fester, to rise like an insidious boil that refused to go away; but it remained, and grew every day, faster, until it was the size of his soul and growing, turning the color of oil against water.

Pain became an annoyance as the angel worked tirelessly to undo every miniscule stitch that kept his angelic soul tied to the darkness within him. The punishments, once agonizing and overpowering each time he went through them, were nothing more than nuisances. Even Lucifer, whispering to him when they changed punishments, was an irritant he couldn’t get rid of, lingering in his head even when he was gone and distracting him from his freedom.

Stories reached him of others escaping in the same way he wished to: their souls lingering behind as their physical body rose to the mortal world and climbed through the portal, never to be seen again. The silvery silhouettes of their angelic souls were immune to torture, to time, to pain; there was nothing the demons could do to them unless they had their physical bodies to bind them.

Lucifer spoke to him, before he’d tore his angelic soul from his body, while the demons were busy chasing down another angel before he could escape to the portal. “You are perhaps the only one of the original legion who still remains with me. I thank you for that, Nameless One.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.” The angel lifted his limp wing from the ground, tattered and ruined past flight; stray feathers drifted to the ground, each one darker than the last, until the final one was as black as pitch. “You might despise me one day.”

“I don’t see how that will be possible.” Lucifer sounded amused; tired, but amused. Hell got to him slowly but surely, and in pieces—where the Nameless One remained indifferent to his punishments, Lucifer allowed them to get to him, made him doubt, made him wonder. He was no longer as brilliant or commanding as he used to be; he was weak, cowed, sufficiently imprisoned in Hell. He would never escape, not as long as he thought he deserved the punishment for what he had done. “You may be my only friend left here.”

The demons returned before the Nameless One could admit to what he was about to do. It was for the best, perhaps; because when he finally tore his soul from his body, he felt the darkness stir. The demons were ready for him, as if they had known what he was about to do.

“Don’t let him escape!” One shouted, a shadowy figure dwarfed by the others who were bigger, physical, and dangerous. They were blurs as he shoved past them and clambered over them one by one, desperate to reach the golden glowing light of the portal just behind them. “If he escapes, we’re all doomed!”

The Nameless One didn’t know about that. He fought his way through the crowd, until all that was left was a slowly healing group of demons, keening in high pitched voices as their heads slowly found their way back to their severed necks. Demon blood, black and viscous, like tar, dripped off of his body and smelled harshly of brimstone, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he once would.

In a moment of weakness, or concern, that was as brief as a brush of wind, he turned to look back at the depths of Cocytus once more. There, standing chained to a frozen throne he would never own, stood Lucifer, anger and fury burning in his eyes where there once held friendliness, affection. His entire person radiated betrayal, his wings high and bristled, but the Nameless One didn’t care like he thought he would have when he imagined betraying the great Morningstar.

No, no—he felt a sense of relief, instead.

Casting a quick glance to the demons at his feet, the angel turned and walked into the portal without a second thought, fresh, clean air entering his lungs the same time a dark, evil voice spoke within his mind, a thousand voices merged into one, stopping him dead in his tracks in a field of blush red poppies, baby’s breath, and calla lilies.

Freedom… At last.

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naerysthelonesome · 3 years

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Hoax

The Malec breakup from the books. Sorry! But I just had to get this idea out of my head. It’s been bothering me since the first time I listened to Hoax last year.

My only one

My smoking gun

My eclipsed sun

This has broken me down

My twisted knife

My sleepless night

My win-less fight

This has frozen my ground

Magnus had never felt like this about anyone before. He’d been so sure Alec was the one he’d been searching so long for. It hurt to even think that he might have been wrong.

The first time he’d seen him, the cool shadow to his Parabatai’s fire, he’d known he had to get to know him somehow. And then he had, and Alec had grown to mean more to him than anything he’d anticipated.

At first Magnus had thought he was simply a pretty boy often eclipsed and underappreciated. Then he’d noticed the way he could still draw people in like the pull of the moon draws in the ocean, a power seemingly gone unnoticed by the Shadowhunter. It had intrigued him enough for him to ask around about him.

Magnus rarely fell for Shadowhunters. They were often much more trouble than they were worth. But there had been so many over the years he had cared about; been friends with. Perhaps he had assumed that was what Alec would mean to him too, when he’d made his move. Perhaps not.

And this Shadowhunter had been trouble. Being parabatai with Valentine’s son sure didn’t help his case. But Magnus had found that that was a price he was willing to pay to be near him. Besides, he’d also never shied away from drama. But being that close in proximity to it hadn’t been easy. Especially now that he was emotionally invested in all of it. (Or had been, anyway).

He’d worry about Alec so much it scared him. He hadn’t wanted to lose him in the way Shadowhunters were often lost. Killed in action. On patrol. Ripped apart. Eaten by a demon. So many gruesome ways to die. Or maybe Downworlder politics, or the Clave’s interference would tear them apart as it had so many relationships. Despite the long life he’d lived, he’d still assumed that would be the way he would lose his Alexander.

He’d never anticipated it being because of something the man himself had done. Tried to do.

Alexander had gone to Camille, of all people, for help. Magnus knew just how manipulative she could be, but Alexander wouldn’t have had to go to her at all, if he hadn’t been having real doubts about their relationship.

Stood on the cliffside

Screaming, "Give me a reason"

Your faithless love's the only hoax

I believe in

Don't want no other shade of blue

But you

No other sadness in the world would do

Alexander hadn’t spoken to him about that much; but even if he had, Magnus wasn’t sure he’d have known how to comfort him. He was immortal. Alexander would die before him. Maybe the last, but he would still be one in a long line of lovers. Magnus wasn’t okay with that. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

Apparently he’d been wrong. Camille had offered to shorten his immortality, something Alexander had actually considered an appropriate offer. The fact that he’d eventually decided it was immoral and chose not to go through with it, hardly mattered in the face of what a decision like that might have cost Magnus. Did he hate his being immortal so much he’d actually shorten his life to make it otherwise?

He’d ended things with him for it, of course. The Shadowhunter was too new to this- too insecure to have his first relationship with a damned Warlock. He was still coming to terms with his sexuality, for God’s sake! How Magnus had thought they would work out together at all was a mystery even to him.

The worst part of any of this was the fact that he stayed up every single night, thinking of Alexander. He even had dark circles around his eyes, and that hadn’t been a thing since Camille. How fitting.

All he wanted to do now was look into those blue eyes again. He’d thought of Will the first time he’d seen Alexander’s blue eyes and dark hair. There were many people around that bore the same combination, but most had reminded him of Jace’s better looking ancestor.

Then he’d started to get lost in Alexander’s eyes, and began to see him everywhere instead. It really wasn’t ideal. He’s started to miss his faded, ratty sweaters, and tousled hair, and watching his fingers delicately run along his beloved bow.

The dozens of unread texts, their many weeks worth of conversation all in blue, didn’t help either. Almost every second of every day was spent convincing himself not to check them, not to respond. Loving Alexander was messy, and harder than he’d expected, but it really had been worth it.

He knew as soon as Jace walked in the door that he’d be giving the Shadowhunter another chance.

#malec #magnus bane #Alexander Lightwood #alec lightwood #malec fanfiction #thoughts and feelings #hoax taylor swift #tmi #tsc

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling

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J.J. Abrams’ spy drama Alias, which turns 20 this week, was a lot of things: high-octane action-adventure series, twentysomethings relationship drama, occasional National Treasure homage. It was also, surprisingly, a spiritual predecessor to today’s hyper-saturated superhero movie and TV universes: A preternaturally gifted fighter, Sydney Bristow (Jennifer Garner) inhabits comic-book-esque alter egos to infiltrate secret missions related to ancient artifacts and promised immortality, all while ensuring that her nearest and dearest don’t know how many times she’s saved the world—or which side she’s really on.

Like the series’ MacGuffin-generating Nostradamus figure Milo Rambaldi, Alias has proven to be somewhat prophetic itself about what makes for the kinds of superhero stories that land today. With some 20th-anniversary hindsight, let’s look back at what made Sydney’s story so super and what lessons Abrams’ ridiculous(ly fun) series can still impart to the current crop of superhero sagas.

The Secret Identity as Kiss of Death

The highest priority that spies and superheroes share is that they cannot get made—that is, have their identity as a larger-than-life individual linked to their “normal” selves. They must always keep their personal and professional personas separate, lest they risk losing the people who know both sides of them. Alias establishes this difficult lesson in the first half hour of the pilot, when Sydney reveals her true work (she thinks SD-6 is just a covert branch of the CIA) to doctor fiancé Danny, only for him to blab about it later and get bloodily taken out in their bathtub. It’s the first time that SD-6 treats its sweet protégée harshly, making clear the consequences of her actions should she open up to anyone else in her life. And then she defects to the CIA, which will be a death sentence for her if SD-6 ever finds out.

Yet beyond the specter of grisly assassination, what the series really digs into is Syd’s growing ethical dilemma about being a double agent where it concerns the actually good people at SD-6, primarily her longtime partner Dixon (Carl Lumbly) and sweetly awkward Q stand-in Marshall (Kevin Weisman). It would be too easy if the series were only about her getting long-game revenge on SD-6 director Arvin Sloane (Ron Rifkin); the real conflict comes from Sydney lying to Dixon’s face on every stakeout, knowing that he still thinks he’s working for the good guys and she can’t ruin that fantasy for him without potentially turning him into collateral damage.

Similarly, the moments in which Sydney’s two (or three) lives begin to collide have other heartbreaking consequences: While the scene in which her best friend Will (Bradley Cooper cast as the friendzoned buddy, amazing) gets kidnapped and sees Syd saving him, is one of the decade’s best laugh-out-loud moments, it also leads to Will going into the Witness Protection Program. His life ends, in a sense, because Sydney couldn’t keep everything compartmentalized. And we haven’t even gotten to the awful fate that befalls her best friend Francie (Merrin Dungey)…

What Alias Predicted: The beating heart (or arc reactor) of many a superhero story is this tension between selves—which means that the big reveal of a secret identity has to be carefully timed and deliberately presented. It’s as emotional as Peter Parker’s (Tobey Maguire) mask getting ripped away when he saves the subway car of people in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2, as big as Spider-Man: Far From Home doxxing that Peter Parker (Tom Holland) in a commentary on fake news, or as pure and simple as Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) outing himself as Iron Man in the very first installment of the MCU. You cannot unring that bell, so it better be a memorable moment.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Rev the secret identity stakes back up! Captain America: Civil War ably took on the game-changing Marvel Comics arc of the same name by having heroes collectively unmask, and movies like Spider-Man: Far From Home are still playing out those ramifications. But mostly we see the dangerous ramifications of heroes doxxing themselves, without really digging into the strain for heroes to constantly have to lie about the things that truly matter to them.

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Campy Disguises and Clever Aliases

If you’ve watched Alias or were even vaguely aware of it, no doubt the first thing you envision is Sydney in black leather and bright red hair, a.k.a. her iconic look from the pilot. Her non-SD-6-sanctioned, under-the-radar disguise (impersonating Will’s sister) displays her ingenuity and establishes the series’ brand: attention-grabbing hair paired with increasingly ridiculous outfits, from chain mail waitress ensembles to rubber dresses. She’s played punks, rich bimbos, alluring businesswomen, escorts, and all manner of female personas upon which her marks would project their assumptions—all of which belied her true strength and cunning.

Even when future episodes riffed on the color wheel with teal, magenta, purple, and good old-fashioned blonde wigs, it was still within a clear spectrum established on that pivotal mission, when she channels a silly girl who cares more about the color of her hair than her safety, only to pin her torturer with the same chair to which she’s bound.

What Alias Predicted: I would hazard a guess that Natasha Romanoff’s first appearance in 2012’s The Avengers—a seemingly helpless redhead tied to a chair, about to be nastily interrogated—was a nod toward Sydney’s triumphant pilot mission. What’s more, despite the first ten years of the MCU leaning toward sleek costumes, later phases (like WandaVision‘s cheeky Halloween callbacks) have realized that they can embrace the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Better to lean into the bold colors and campy designs of the comic-book source material than to go for more sleek and cool. WandaVision did this, albeit cheekily and using the excuse of Halloween, but the nod toward Scarlet Witch’s original outfit was well received. Because any superhero can look cool in leather, but only the standouts can rock color.

Rambaldi Artifacts, Immortality, and Clones

While replicating the romantic dramas of Felicity, Abrams was also playing with early iterations of his signature “puzzle box” narrative style: The pilot has Sydney chasing after the mysterious Mueller device, which turns out to be… a floating red ball… which bursts into water the moment she tries to remove it. That head-scratcher of a device is only one of many inventions belonging to Milo Rambaldi, a fictional Renaissance-era philosopher whose sketches and writings all pointed toward the ultimate endgame: immortality. You know, just normal spy thriller things.

The series saw Sydney and co. chasing after all manner of Rambaldi MacGuffins, from a clock to a kaleidoscope to a music box to flowers that either demonstrated proof of eternal life (by never wilting) or amped up human aggression. Through all of this, it becomes clear that Sloane helped found SD-6 in order to collect all of Rambaldi’s artifacts and capture immortality for himself—even and especially at the cost of people like his daughter, Sydney’s half-sister Nadia Santos (Mía Maestro).

Before we get more into Rambaldi’s prophecies about the sisters, we can’t forget the parallel fever dream of the series: clones! Or, rather, secret agents genetically modified to look like anyone—which means everyone is a suspect. This constant paranoia quickly got out of hand on the series, but its first reveal was perfect TV drama: There’s not an Alias fan who doesn’t remember “Francie doesn’t like coffee ice cream” and the complete devastation that followed—the knock-down, drag-out fight that destroyed Sydney’s apartment just as badly as Danny’s death, but also Sydney’s heartbreak upon realizing that her best friend was already long dead.

What Alias Predicted: The Infinity Stones themselves are less interesting than in various superheroes’ personal connections to them: Loki (Tom Hiddleston) tempted by the tesseract in Thor: Ragnarok; Star Lord (Chris Pratt) and the Guardians of the Galaxy channeling their friendship to withstand the effects of the Power Stone; Wanda Maximoff’s (Elizabeth Olsen) stages of grief as she copes with trying to keep the memory of Vision (Paul Bettany) alive even without the Mind Stone. In short: grounding the most out-there plotlines in the personal ensures they will always land.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: Ground the most bonkers of plotlines in the personal, and they’ll always land.

The Chosen One and the Passenger

This is when the Rambaldi business started getting less National Treasure levels of charming and more outright weird. Turns out the team wasn’t just recovering a treasure trove of artifacts, but also Rambaldi’s prophetic writings—including the mysterious “Page 47,” which featured a drawing of a woman known as the Chosen One… who bears quite the resemblance to Sydney herself. That would be easy enough to dismiss as a strange doppelgänger coincidence, but then comes the reveal of “Project Christmas”: When Syd discovers that she didn’t just stumble into the spy life on her own, but was actually trained as a sleeper agent from childhood, it only amplifies her fears that she has no true agency over her life.

Further Rambaldi writings center Sydney and Nadia into predestined roles as the Chosen One and the Passenger: supposed foes who are fated to clash, with one dying. Nadia getting injected with “Rambaldi fluid” in order to tap directly into the long-dead man’s consciousness (contained within another artifact known as the Sphere of Life) only earns her some nasty apocalyptic visions. But despite their genuine friendship that comes from bonding over their fucked-up childhoods, Sydney and Nadia are forced into that preordained confrontation when the latter is injected with a compound that reduces her to a mindless killing machine… all while a giant red ball is hovering over a city in Russia, because why not. Even after Nadia dies, and is brought back to life, then dies again, with her ghost haunting Sloane as he finally attains immortality, she remains a presence on the series.

There are certainly echoes to Black Widow and how it handles Natasha and adoptive sister Yelena’s (Florence Pugh) strained reconciliation after the older sister got out of the Red Room while the younger was still caught in its web. Their bickering banter about vests and poses, their differing memories of their false childhood, and their respective feelings of abandonment are what elevated Black Widow’s standalone outing—and made it even more tragic, on multiple levels, that this was the only time we would see the two of them in a movie together.

What Alias Predicted: Sister stories are gold! The Rambaldi storylines would mean nothing if they didn’t hinge on a tragically preordained confrontation, just as the MCU’s Red Room depiction seemed overdone until it was presented within the context of multiple generations’ differing experiences with its bloody legacy.

What Superhero Stories Can Still Learn: More stories about sisters! With Nat dead not long after she and Yelena had just started to bond again, it’s vital that Yelena’s future MCU appearances show her still grappling with the little time they got together.

After all, the best superhero stories are the ones that can feel just as fresh now as they did 20 years ago.

Alias is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

The post How Alias Anticipated Modern Superhero Storytelling appeared first on Den of Geek.

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featherwurm · 3 years

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Stories

Longer narratives with complex character interaction and distinct through-lines. (Please note that this is not a free prompt - these are my own personal Wips.)

The Eternal General - A man is forced through a grueling ordeal in a low-fantasy world as the actions of the man he served as head general take shape as an unearthly monstrosity. This begins an endless bond of servitude to otherworldly forces and an eternity of different lifetimes (Features: Marcus, Rin, Ivan, Ytra.) This is a collaborative project with @fullyfunctionalminiaturebeehive.

Scratched Sky - Lifetimes and worlds away from where he began, Marcus finds himself in a world nearly destroyed through outside forces which took his likeness and were forestalled by an embittered and exhausted Ivan. He is forced into a life of recluse as we learn of the outfall of the creatures that Marcus has become bound to. (Features: Marcus, Ivan, Lynne, Shay.) This is a collaborative project with @fullyfunctionalminiaturebeehive.

Longbody Dragons - Below the ocean a reclusive empire reigns, and these dragons ferociously guard their own secrets. The Dragon King pits his many offspring against each other to determine who will succeed him and protect his empire from any interaction with the outside world. The twins, Shen and Su, take very different paths in life, but when Su's self-imposed exile comes to an end, there will be major change. (Features: Shen, Su, Dragon God Rahab, Ji-Ho.)

Gryphon and Dragon - Two creatures from another time that seem very out of place in a world where, from a technological dark age, a strange dieselpunk future has arisen. They must both unravel the strange mysteries of her past (who she is, why she is subservient to human will and whim), and going forward, ensure they understand his kind (what kind of a creature has the mind of a man but venom enough to fell him). When they find Gryphon's sisters, they are in for more than either of them is ready to take on, but out of duty and out of obligation they will go forward to whatever end. (Features: Gryphon the Sphinx, Dragon, Irina, Olga, Masha.)

Parnassus - A creature who at once seems beautiful, alluring, and otherworldly copes with being ripped from his homeland in an event that nearly destroyed him. Along the way he finds and gives much kindness to many, and the ways in which it trickles through their lives is complex and deep. (Features: Parnassus, Esquiline, Lucifer, the Tendriled Woman.)

The Voices - Strange and horrible creatures rise from the sites of massive human calamity in a slowly post-apocalyptic world. What they do, who they interact with, and what happens to them may be critical to the remainder of human life in the world (Features: The Voice of the Drowned, the Voice of the Decadant, the Voice of the Burned, the Bird.)

Humanfolk - ‘Humanity’ at the brink of collapse has split into three subgroups through various means, the humans, the flight-afflicted, and the merfolk. While once a hope of the last bastion of human thought, the merfolk had long since distanced themselves from land-dwelling humans and were considered little more than a food source. The flight afflicted are the result of a strange sickness that warps the mind and body - giving the precious gift of flight at the cost of reason and understanding. Humanity will have to find new ways to survive. (Features: Orcafolk, Flight Afflicted.) This story may blend with The Voices.

Vali the Dreamwalker - A story about surviving, enduring, and eventually thriving. Vali is gifted with the incredible ability to traverse and alter the dreams of any living thing, but ultimately, for all his efforts, healing will be his ultimate trial. (Features: Vali, Media, Oxalis, Fenn, A'thel, En'thel, B'rath, Ensen, Neis.)

Anton the Changed - A circus is abducted and altered by the fae for their own entertainment, some 100 years after this, one of their members manages to escape back to the mortal realm, although he has been permanently changed by the ordeal. He finds others that understand him and together they plan rescue of those he was bound with. (Features: Anton, Pleasant, King, Malachi, Samuel, The Fish.)

Anachronism - An immortal afraid of the ways in which the world changes, they have tried to keep to strange 'time bubbles' where the world stays still as time moves forward around them. When they are shunted from their last bastion of an older time, they are forced to confront the modern world and their own nature. (Features: Butler Cross, Rail.)

The Unable - Strange tentacle-headed creatures appear one day on our planet, inert apart from their subservience to any human whim. Their existence becomes a new economy, until, at last, one day they appear to awaken and develop wills of their own.

The Gardener - At the forefront of human bio-engineering and molecular botany, a strange and singular person lives in total recluse. Despite their successes, there is much they hide. They are forced to confront their own issues as they deal with corporate espionage, the ethics of synthetically made life and sapience, and reconciling a painful past. (Features: The Gardener, Glass.)

The Pitfighters - In a wold where manipulation of the human body can be pushed to tremendous and frightening physical extremes, underground pitfighting is a brutal blood sport fed by using the bodies of the illegal and the unwanted. Three different former pitfighters tell their stories in a political drama (Mercutio), a buddy road trip (Tac and Ephra), and a gentle love story (Tom and Zir) (Features: Mercutio, Tac, Tom, Ephra the Shifter, and Zir the Reptile Charmer)

Sinkhole City - In the world, strange portals to some other place are opening, and while they are dangerous, people seem drawn to them, and cities form around their edges. In this strange place Leon, recovering from a previous life, discovers many secrets and quirks of it, and the dramas that play out because of it. (Features: Leon, Lynne, the Horned Man, Rin, Ivan.)

The Beast of 1,000 Shadows - The monster lives far and away in distant hills and changes her form when she removes her pelt. She has different ones, but not many, and those that pass through her domain know to fear her. All but one. One who had been through many other things long before and marked them all on her skin in her own way. A wanderer and a wayfarer who found reason to pause. (Features: The Beast of 1,000 Shadows, The Tattooed Woman.)

Soft Minotaur - A version of the myth where the poor beast escapes with the help of two Athenian sacrifices, seeking only a simple life.

Quellus and Cipher - Raised in secret to be trained as the perfect king, the young man known only as Cipher (his real name lost - it was supposed to be a cipher for him to determine), suffers in the military academy where he has been pushed ahead, ahead, ahead, even though he'd rather retreat into the woods. When he is revealed as prince, his elder brother Quellus, with much hesitance and love, helps him flee from their war-torn society. (Features: Quellus, Cipher, Cipher's Sister.)

The Raw - ... I was going through some things. (Features: The Raw.)

The Unnamed World of the Four Schools - When a war for conquest comes to the Dark Mage's swamp, she is forced out of the neutrality that binds mages to lives of recluse. Reluctantly joining up with the mage, Arthur of the Woods, the two of them journey to forestall further conflict, and prevent a magic war that could damage the very fabric of reality. (Features The Dark Mage, Arthur of the Woods.)

The Unwitting Mage - Terrivald had lived a peaceful life under his brother's shadow, quietly enjoying a solitary life in his library, until a baffling artifact of elven making and a strange prophecy teleport him halfway across the world. As he journeys home, he must discern the purpose and abilities of said artifact, and whether or not he truly believes that he is some sort of savior figure, or if someone is simply having a laugh. (Features: Terivald, Navaras, Sandstorm.)

I often record my more memorable dreams as short fiction with accompanying illustrations. They are all tagged under 'Dream' and are sometimes a starting point for a longer piece of fiction.

I occasionally make short comics if I think the idea suits the medium.

My husband, @fullyfunctionalminiaturebeehive is working on a story involving Sihal, Farrow, Agate, Fall, Muriel, Rochelle, and others (side characters include Druzy, Saphire, Emerald, Snowflake Obsidian, etc.)

Some old stories may or may not see the light of day (but have some fragmentary existence in my portfolios) include: Mortalis, D.R.L.H., There are Places, Unfortunate Innocence, Vlasis and Lavinia, Lane Davenforth.

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cienie-isengardu · 4 years

Note

K, O, P?

Thank you for the lovely ask, it was fun to write! :D

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

Hard to pick the one character, even more since the best of character development I love so much are not tied to one arc but happens through the whole story. But since I’m on OP kick lately, Roronoa Zoro gets all the honor.

I love how at first he promised to follow Luffy as long as the rubber-man didn't get in the way of his goal (and threatened him with death otherwise) but took his commitment very seriously from day one. And somehow through the relatively short journey, Zoro literally threw away his ambitions, pride, life, everything for Luffy’s sake. And not only for Luffy, but for the crew as a whole, because Roronoa is always ready to stay behind, to be left behind, to protect nakama at all cost. And the best part of this development is that, Zoro’s priorities changed from carrying the burden of promise and shared ambition with a dead friend being the best to giving everything to Luffy, while it does not change what Zoro is at the core. It doesn’t make him a better man in the sense of an improved attitude or outlook on life. Hell, I would say it makes him more workaholic with the need to get stronger, pushing himself harder than before once he gets to know the wider world better, but Zoro is ruthless and rude as he was. He is born killer and monster in human form that don’t give a fuck about the world, politics, what society thinks while his own moral sense does not budge at all. He was and is willing to kill, he enjoys fighting and drinking, has this ambitious as hell goal of being the best. The development does not change who Zoro is, but what matters to him the most and this growing loyalty and trust can be seen through the whole story and I don’t know what would need to happen for such dedication falter even for a bit.

And like I said, this is not something that happened in one arc, but was happening through the whole story, from earlier little occasional clashes with Luffy to being of one mind with his captain while always ready to carry the burden when Luffy can’t do it, ready to stay behind and protect nakama. What makes the final of Thriller Bark one of the coolest pledge of loyalty but not the best development arc itself, really, because Zoro’s character develops in that direction from day one and the decision made in Thriller Bark is just a result of all the previous adventures.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

I’m going to cheat with that and instead of a random song, I will give you two I have on loop already for several days: Broken Crown and I gave you all by Mumford & Sons, because both suit Donquixote Brothers so well and could tell the same events from two different perspectives. In advance sorry for ranting but these two songs kill me emotionally so much, I must talk in length about them!

Broken Crown is all about Rosi rejecting the “crown” given to him by brother (“I'll never be your chosen one”) and yet… still caring and sadly, knowing it too well he wouldn’t pull the trigger (“but oh my heart, was flawed I knew my weakness. So hold my hand consign me not to darkness“) and the final lines, gosh:

So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down

I'll never wear your broken crown

I took the road and I fucked it all away

Now in this twilight, how dare you speak of grace

So crawl on my belly 'til the sun goes down

I'll never wear your broken crown

I can take the road and I can fuck it all away

But in this twilight, our choices seal our fate

And then, I gave you all is just so Doffy about Rosinante, it hurts. Seriously. Like, I really believe he never meant to hurt his brother (and maybe never understood he did), and the whole last lines are just so on spot:

But I gave you all

But you rip it from my hands

And you swear it's all gone

And you rip out all I have

Just to say that you've won

Well now you've won

It’s just so, so about Rosi stealing Law and Opi Opi no Mi even though Doffy already “gave [him] all” what he could. And the most ironic thing? When people usually think about their last meeting, we remember that Doffy killed his younger brother, but in fact, Rosi DID WIN in the long run. He cured Law and saved him from Doffy, he stole Opi Opi no Mi and took away from brother a chance for immortality, even if just for a while. Which is like three main victories in one strike and he did sort of say it to Doffy’s face (“[Law] is already free!!”).

Just… so many feelings from two songs that fit well two brothers so different from each other. And the regrets and hate, and lack of understanding and spite. Seriously, it makes me think about their last meeting so much :(

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

I have three major growing ideas, but since I’m in a good mood, I will share the happiest AU in which Donquixote Rosinante never played the role of spy and confronted Doflamingo in the open sea as a Marine Officer.

Or more like: Doffy found out his bro is alive but part of Marine, so of course he couldn’t leave him in peace and like the maniac he is, chased after Rosinante across all the sea to recruit him into the Family - to no avail. So Doffy’s main reason to become Shichibukai was just so he could jump on Rosi’s warship and annoy the fuck of him, like an older brother should. And Rosi can’t kick him overboat, since as a Warlord Doflamingo is untouchable by Marines. Or at least in theory, because Rosi serves under Garp’s command*, and the old Vice-Admiral does not mind to punch some sense into Doffy (and Rosi) with fist of love, cause no punk like Doffy will tell Monkey D. Garp what he should or shouldn’t do on his own ship and if bros are lucky, Tsuru may save them from this madman… or not). Despite that causing ruckus between sailors is much better than boredom, and Doffy seeks out his younger brother under all excuses and more often than not, visits just to rant about all annoying people and bitching on Kaido or Sengoku or Nobles or really, everything and maybe for a drink or two and napping between one and another business meeting, because there is no better nap than under Rosi’s silencing powers. It is worth, no matter that more often than not Garp is kicking his ass, even when in fact he acts as a good boy should. And maybe, just maybe Doffy is so bored with all his underground business going well that he is actually doing “government dog” work of hunting down random pirates. Or more likely, slaughtering every asshole who dare insult his clumsy brother.

Because no matter what, Rosi is his baby bro and he belongs to Doffy even if the dumbass stubbornly refuses to join the Family. Which is fine, one day Doflamingo will find a way to change his brother's mind and until that day comes, he will mess with Marines as much as he can. Which is all fair, because Rosi too does mess with Doffy’s underground business whenever he has a chance and the klutz set on fire accidentally himself AND so many Doffy’s stuff one may wonder if he really is that clumsy or does he do that on purpose. Trebol thinks the latter, cause somehow Rosi always drops things on him by stumbling or spilt hot tea in his face. Doffy finds that amusing as hell, even more when his little bro uses his devil fruit powers to mute half of the Family just to piss them off. At least, as long as Rosi remembers to unmute them before leaving (sometimes the lil shit does not unmute them on purpose and Doffy is forced to chase him around the sea to undo the damage. Younger brothers can be a really pain in the ass).

So Doffy & Rosi kinda have this I-hate-you-but-I-love-you-dumbass relationship over the years until Law comes into picture and of course, Law stab the younger Donquixote and of course, Rosinante kidnap the kid to find a cure and maybe, just maybe, kidnap his brother along the way, and drag Law and Doffy on forced family vacation that involves burning a few dozens of hospitals, a lot screaming at each other and some terapeutic honest talks that no one really wants but everyone needs. Law gets the Ope Ope Mi, Doffy and Rosi kinda explain to each other all the traumatic shit from childhood and made sort of peace.

So, in the end, Doffy does not take over Dressrosa but is still doing his shady business and just being himself, just with better mental stability (cause Rosi keeps muting Trebol and all his shitty talk about what king can or cannot do on every occasion). Rosi has a brother that is not complete monster but not the good man either, but he isn’t ordered to kill him or lie to, and even though they are on opposite side, Rosinante can always call Doffy on den den mushi and shout at him for hours for all the stupid shit he pulled without any regrets or fear (and sometimes, Doffy does listen). Law is saved but still decides to sail and causing havoc as pirate captain while both Donquixote brothers are doting on him and of course, allying himself with Monkey D. Luffy, while the poor Sengoku just gets constant migraine for dealing with all the nonsense of Monkey D. and Donquixote family drama (but secretly feeling relieved that his son is finally doing fine). Garp on other hand, find it hilarious as hell. The World Government does not find it hilarious at all.

*Sengoku doesn’t like putting his precious Rosinante under Garp’s command because the Hero of Marines of course drags the poor kid into all possible troubles and chaos, but since Rosi is brother of Doflamingo and Doffy is hated by Nobles, Garp is the best protector for younger Donquixote. He will punch everyone who would dare to hurt the kid of his closest friend, including World Nobles and their armies. The side effect is that Rosi is looking after Ace and Luffy, once they set sails, because they are uncle Garp’s grandkids and he will happily save Ace’s ass before Blackbeard get his hand on him and be even kind enough to give the kid a choice: either he comes back to Whitebeard or Rosi takes him straight to grandpa Garp and so Ace ends safe under pop’s watchful eyes once and for good.

Here, a happy Donquixote Bros AU. You’re welcome!

ask meme

#ask meme #one piece #roronoa zoro #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #donquixote brothers #one piece AU #fueled by my overthinking about donquixote bros #and #monkey d. garp #sengoku the buddha #trafalgar law #one piece kills me with too many emotions #sorry not sorry #my replies #broken crown #and I gave you all songs #are just made for those two

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sir-contra · 4 years

Text

So last night a friend and I were having a very long chat about Warframe and how the lore gaps have so much to be built upon and it went like this:

The Corpus, are fucking terrifying, and let me tell ya why.

The Orokin knew the Corpus were trouble, like right from the beginning. The Orokin, with power so great, with the power to make the system their bitch, knew the Corpus were a fucking threat. But what did the Corpus do, if not die? Well, simple. They got a weakness from the Orokin, and wiped them out, because the Corpus are disgustingly, and scarily cunning. Where they lack in numbers? They make up for in brains. Common Corpus enemies, from lore standpoint, if they began to think like the Corpus big boys, they could overwhelm a Warframe, take it, rip it apart like a wild animal killing its prey, and make a profit off of it. And it’s obvious by of course what Alad had done, especially in his trailor.

Mag was struggling, and there’s of course how he fucked Valkyr right the fuck up

And that’s of course only the beginning of it - There’s also the fact that the warframes of course feel, and by extension, the Tenno feel what their warframe goes through. So picture this: You are finally awakened as a Tenno. You feel like your top shit. You’re young, a child, and you are fueled by pure bloodlust, and you have had nobody teach you that running right into battle is a bad idea, and the Lotus does a poor job of teaching you that. So let’s say you pick the wrong fight. Your Warframe gets captured by a corpus, and its not simple containment where you have time to rip the doors open and book it to extraction, you’re pinned down and they are scheming on what they plan to do to you, and then it’s finally time. The stage is set, the tools are out: They’re going to skin your Warframe alive. You the Tenno, are fighting with rage running through your blood, you clearly aren’t grasping the direness of the situation, and your warframe? Acting on it’s own, and it feels unfiltered panic. Struggling, trying to rip away, though they’re already diving in to your poor frame, and you can’t do anything about it. Energy is dead and gone, weapons are long cast away, and they’re ripping your Frame apart. Your Warframe, is shrieking, and not only that, so are you. To say it “hurts” is an understatement. You, Tenno, are not being torn open alive, but it feels like it, it hurts so much that your shrieking is filling the air alongside your Frames. You survive the horrifying and lengthy dissection, but your Warframe? It’s met it’s end, and you don’t even get to grasp it, because you pass out. Transference to it, gone. Impossible to regain.

now i bet ur wondering “Oh, Shun that’s not-” Well shut u up, Alad had to plan for god knows how long, to Capture not just one, but MANY warframes to build his weird fucked up dog, which has to have a control collar because all those parts damn well hold the memories of what he did and the shit they went through, if it wasn’t for that it would tear him a new asshole and even he was aware. And then there’s the fact that there’s not just the ONE Zanuka, the fucking psychopath

Tenno and Warframe, they strong as fuck, damn well OP as all hell, but they aren’t immortal alright, and of course the Corpus know that much They’ve had all the time in forever to plan on how they’re gonna get what they want, and they’ve done it countless times

They’ve caught plenty of Warframes, and made a hell of a profit off of them, but one could only IMAGINE what they would do to an actual Tenno, regardless of their age. If it was money to be made, they’ll cut up whatever and sell the parts on the spot.

So let’s talk about Nef Anyo right

Nef, is a bitch ass motherfucker. Glad we agree!

While we haven’t seen what Nef is really like, you know, when snapping and blowing the fuck up, we did see him in utter desparation ( The Deadlock Protocol ) when he was basically begging the Tenno to haul ass and help him (and of course we do because Tenno are dumb kids piloting deathmachines)

And sure, his begging is one thing, but one could only imagine him snapping in rage. A fight where you engage Nef, and it’s just a big session of “Holy shit what have I gotten myself into?!” And not because it’s annoying. But because he’s constantly screaming all the horrible things he’s going to do to that precious little warframe of yours, and on your last revive, if you die, he grabs your Warframe, slams it against the wall/or floor, and he tears into it to hear it scream. And as it’s barely holding on, he looks it in the eyes, leaning close, and in his voice, between clenched teeth, all you hear is “ You’re next, Tenno. “

So basically, being a Tenno? Yeah it fucking SUCKS.

So that’s when I thought of this:

And that’s where this lovely lady comes in.

Drastaeia. Drastaeia, is the Rogue Tenno, who has long abandoned the Lotus after the Corpus had taken and killed one of her two partners. One being Valkyr Mithra, the other being Oberon Feyarch, the latter being the one dissected and sold for parts after he threw himself to get her the hell out of there with Valkyr in the final stretch of a long drawn battle that they had no chance of winning. Losing one of her family, ,she had truly saw that the path she walked would only bring more suffering, and that the origin system was doomed right from the start. Kill, and kill, and kill again, but they’ll just come back. Corpus, Grineer, Sentients; You kill one, two show up, and the numbers grow and grow; it wasn’t a fight for children to be forced into, and she knew that any tenno walking this path of “justice” would eventually die before reaching the goal of “peace”. She tries her best to save them, especially the younger Tenno, but ultimately fails due to children being stubborn, headstrong and generally difficult, and feels remorse for being unable to save them from the hell they’re walking into.

Ultimately, she blames the Lotus. Not for her “Betrayal”, but because she’s still leading these new Tenno - These children to an early grave, even when they experience the good of the system, it doesn’t make up the hell and horror they have to go through for ultimate peace.

Drast is often seen as a threat to Tenno by the Lotus, due to abandoning what was deemed as “her duty”, and is often called dangerous and one that must either be eradicated, or avoided, at all costs, though she doesn’t prefer to fight with other Tenno. She holds no fear against them, but she would rather not raise arms against her “brothers and sisters”, but only wishes to save them from their early demise. Before losing her Feyarch, Drast was headstrong and loud, and quite the adventurer. Paired with Oberon and Valkyr, there was never a moment where she wasn’t smiling and laughing with them, for they were her family.

After Oberon was taken, she was, for the longest time a wreck, and in a way still is, and holds a deep grudge to the Lotus for leading her and others astray. But not only that, she has been more reserved in terms of her social status, opting not to be too loud. She’s extremely close to Valkyr, who of which is terrifyingly protective of her due to losing her other friend, and often assesses the target first before letting them engage with Drast. Though despite it all, she has her sense of adventure within.

anyway thanks for reading lmao

#Warframe #Tenno #Warframe Operator #shun art #shun's art #valkyr warframe

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munsonsduchess · 3 years

Text

So, I re-watched The Old Guard, again. Just like my Mag 7 re-watch I made some notes, six pages of them to be exact which is why I’m gonna drop them under the cut so I don’t clutter up anyone’s dash with my mildest of observations and all my feelings for a sad alcoholic Frenchman.

I love how we’re introduced to everyone, Andy walking alone through Marrakesh and Booker speeding through the narrow streets on his bike. Are we supposed to think they’re strangers or do they know each other

Bookers little smile when he catches up to Andy like he’s so happy to see her again and Andy’s face lighting up to see him again too

Andy spent a fortune on a book because she knew Booker would like it. “First edition Don Quixote, that wouldn’t come cheap” “it didn’t”

“What brings you to Marrakech?” // “Family'' leave me alone I’m already sobbing

Andy honey they’ll still be able to see that picture in deleted photos but you tried and that’s what matters

Nicky and Joe!

Nicky is so happy to see Andy. That little smile. It’s adorable

“You look good” “you look ok” gentle family teasing is the best ok

“Boss”

It’s been a year since they saw one and other and they just love each other so much. No one touch me.

Nicky and Booker betting on the baklava and Joe just sitting there like “let him lose his money it’s fine, he won’t learn and it’s funny”

Everyone teasing Nicky for loosing and he’s just stood there like “no it’s fine ”

These are the best people for the job and Copley knows it and doesn’t care how much it will cost him. He has faith

Copley knowing Nicky is there and the little wave

Andy taking her axe with her. I love that axe

Just a group of immortals walking through the desert with swords and guns nothing to see here

“Peace be with you” those catholic teachings never quite leave

“It’s a trap!”

That has got to hurt. Those guys emptied full clips into them. Like I get the need to do a job and do it well but come on guys that’s overkill

This is what women want. Andy and her axe

Nicky still having faith there are girls

The picture on Copley’s desk. Like if you knew why did you have to go through this bullshit?

Andy has lived too long and seen too much

Like I know now that Booker knew what was happening or maybe he didn’t know the extent of it but him saying sorry did feel genuine

Andy is just all kinds of done. She didn’t want to do the job in the first place

Nile proving that yes you can be in a strange place and you can serve your country but you don’t have to be a dick about it

“Keep it respectful”

She made an effort to learn the language and learn the customs which goes a long way to establish trust

How traumatic must this have been for Nile? She always knew there was a possibility of being injured in combat or worse never coming home but to be injured so fatally and have your friend hold your life in their hands only to come back and be rejected because you’re an anomaly. A freak

Goes a long way to explain Booker’s feelings too

Nicky and Joe sleeping in the train car is something that is obviously so normal for couples and goes such a long way to show people how ‘normal’ queer people are

“What did you see?” “Part of a name tag” thanks Booker that’s helpful

“I felt her die”

“Everything happens for a reason boss”

Booker didn’t want to go after Nile. He didn’t want her involved

Nicky pushing for them to go after Nile. The emotional centre of the group, appealing to their own experiences and feelings from their first times

Andy is not happy and I can understand how she feels. Given their current situation bringing an unknown element into the mix is only going to complicate everything

“I know I saw her die”

No scarring. Nothing to suggest that anything happened to Nile

The seeds of doubt already growing amongst Nike’s friends and allies

Merrick looks like he should have been a doctor who villain who got his shit kicked in by Donna

Copley you asshole what did you think was gonna happen? They were just gonna get clips emptied into their bodies and let the mercs walk away? Use your big boy brain

Nile trying to come to terms with what happened to her. Everyone around her looking at her with suspicion. Even her Sargent who’s sending her away from more tests

The hostility in the barracks. The fact that her things are already packed.

Everyone knows what happened. Nile has never been more alone just like Nicky said

Trying to drown out the noise of the world and decompress and understand what happened“

But you can call me Andy”

Just casually steals a military transport. Nbd

MA’AM PLEASE I AM ALREADY GAY. Riding around in a tank top and shades like that is not helping

“These damn kids”

Zero hesitation in shooting Nile. This is a woman who has run out of every kind of fuck

“Why does it always have to be so goddamn slow the first couple of times?”

“You shot me” “yes honey now back in the car

”Andy might think she’s cold and heartless and only here to do a job but you can see how much she already cares about what happens to Nile

Soldiers. Fighters. Family

You know what I’m really glad they didn’t make Andy’s tank top skin tight or moulded to show off her body. That isn’t how she rolls

Andy is so proud that Nile stabbed her. Look at that smile

!Nile already having the makings of a plan within minutes of stepping onto the plane

Andy just like “god isn’t real, I’m real though and people thought I was god”

I wonder how many nights the group sat up until the wee hours discussing things like theology. Andy who was worshiped as a god. Nicky and Joe who fought in a holy war for their beliefs and Booker who probably had his own feelings on the subject

Andy being so chill about the crash. The best poker face

It was a good try Nile and look Andy is proud of you!

The smile on Andy’s face when she’s fighting with Nile gives me so much serotonin

Soft Andy. Who had to be tough to teach a lesson

Poor Nile. Coming to terms with what she is and the fact that she might never see her family again

Family dinner time!

Awkward family dinner time

Nicky and Joe staring at each each other with their puppy dog eyes “we’re meant to find each other”

Then Booker and Andy like “misery loves company”

Everyone’s just like “awh Nicky and Joe are so cute”

Andy reliving the people she’s fought with and lost

Booker knows just how much ‘help’ talking to ones family about the situation is

Booker do not put your finger on the trigger of your gun when it’s still in your trousers! You might be immortal but that’s gonna hurt a lot more

Oh no. Quynh.

Andy’s face. I can’t

Joe in tears telling the story“

Before me and Nicky it was just the two of them”

Booker knowing exactly how it feels to hang there for hours and not die or dying and coming back time and time again. Knowing how Quynh and Andy must have felt

I cannot imagine what it must have been like for Andy. To be with someone for so long. The only other person who understands you. To be ripped apart like that

“Why do you blame yourself” that’s not a nice question to ask people

The big emotional talk with Andy and Nile in the churchyard being interrupted by the gunfire

Andy being so afraid Booker wouldn’t come back and delegating to Nile who just accepts her orders

“Welcome back asshole” / “it feels like someone was dancing on my chest”

The banter

Nicky being banished to the table in the corner after 2006 is my favourite headcanon

“Wait for my signal” Andy is more pissed than ever at the people coming after her family

“Big wounds take longer to heal” Nile as a millennial presses x to doubt

The sheer emotion in Andy’s eyes as she fights. The tears. She’s doing this for her family.

Will I ever stop harping on about found family in this show? No I will not“

How can you even tell what the signal is?” One explosion later “oh wait nvm”

The wound on Andy’s shoulder probably doesn’t even feel like anything with the amount of adrenaline

The van. These two“

What is he your boyfriend?” Stanzas of Arabic poetry later, “he’s not my boyfriend he’s all and he’s more”

Nicky and Joe Horny on Main all day every day

These cocky little shits “can you remove the chains? no? ok”“

There’s a TV Joe!” “Champagne?” it’s not a field trip boys

“I used to keep my stuff here” in an abandoned mine she found in the 1150s or that’s when she thinks she found it

Nile being amazed by Andy’s ‘stuff’

Booker meanwhile makes a joke at the expense of his sister

Merrick really should have been a doctor who villain honestly. The grand gesturing the weird mood swings. He could have been great in a two part episode and then had to reckon with Donna

Donna Noble is my favourite companion don’t @ me

Copley beginning to have second thoughts on everything

Andy realising only now that she hasn’t healed from the fight in the church“

Just because we keep living doesn’t mean we stop hurting” I have a lot of Booker feelings ok“

I thought you were the brains of this outfit” oh honey no

Bookers family. Oh no.

No but really how hard must it have been for Booker. To know that his son, his baby was suffering from cancer such an awful disease all the whole cursing his father for being selfish, uncaring, cursing Booker and Booker can’t do anything about it. He’s immortal, he heals, disease will never ravage his body, but he can’t share it with his son. He can only sit and watch as death claims everyone he’s ever loved. Living with the fact that his family despised him at the end of their lives because they didn’t understand that his immortality is a curse.

I have a lot of Booker feels don’t @ me

The pharmacy girl though. Helping just because she could

Reaffirming the reason why Andy started to help people in the first place

A selfless act. A purely good deed. Nothing expected in return. An unselfish act

Andy’s wound and Lykon’s death causing Andy to come to terms with her own mortality

Merrick “prosperity data” and Copley “I’m sorry those are people not objects”

Nicky is not here for your bullshit

Malta Sex Vacation ™

HORNY JAIL

Family bonding time with Nile and Andy

Andy “whatever it takes” and Nile “not on my watch”

So what I want to know is obviously Booker was in on it from the beginning but did actively derail Andy looking into Copley after Joe and Nicky were taken or was he just genuinely having a hard time

Nile prioritising her flesh and blood family and Andy totally understanding because she’s doing this for family too“

You and me Book. Now and always” my heart can’t cope

Nile finding the empty clip. Realising what’s about to happen and going back for her new family because as much as she loves her flesh and blood family this one matters to her as well

Meanwhile Copley I guess got a tip off from Booker (?) and knew this was all going down

The conspiracy wall

Booker you bastard why did you shoot her in the back?

I love this man but god damn

Booker wanting to be ‘normal’ because the memory of being rejected is still so raw

Suicidal tendencies in a 200 year old man

They’re both so upset by the whole thing. The betrayal

Book loves this woman with all his heart and soul. This is the woman who saved him and now she isn’t healing. She’s dying

Booker putting up so much of a fight so they wouldn’t take Andy

“I’m sorry Andy I’m sorry”

You might disagree with me but in my mind Booker never meant to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be a lab rat. Didn’t want anyone else to be a lab rat. He just wanted to be ‘normal’“

All things die”

“Your time is coming” // “As is yours” Nicky is gonna fuck someone up

“I’m new” says Nile after shooting herself in the foot to make a point

Copley’s conspiracy wall or his fanboy wall for all the good Andy, Booker, Joe and Nicky have done

Copley’s grief at losing his wife being the driving factor for handing the group over to Merrick is tragic and heart breaking and just goes to show how much of a human story this really is

Nile said no guns Copley

Nile is here to save her family

“Those three men in there and I we’ll keep you safe” // Nile coming in guns blazing for them instead

Joe is going to kill Booker himself

“You and Nicky always had each other. All we had was our grief”

Everyone being so surprised to see Nile like “what the fuck?”“

Just leave me here” // “No man left behind”

Meanwhile Joe is fine with just leaving Booker right there to be the last lab rat

The groups concern for Andy who’s always been so strong

The concern. The subtle little head nods Andy does to let them know she’s ok

Andy spies an axe

Joe being so concerned for Nicky and making sure he comes back ok

Nicky immediately scrambling to his feet to go and help Andy

“What happened in 1934?” // “1834”

“Wait for the signal” “like the last one?” “Go big or go home!”

Arguing over who goes first and Andy just “if it doesn’t work our next time you can go first”

And there’s your signal

“You shot Nicky” Joe is not messing around when it comes to his other half“

You ok?” // “Everything hurts”

Andy has been immortal for so long she’s lost all sense of feeling human. Then Nile shows up to do just that. Remind her

Merrick calling Nile selfish like I’m sorry you entitled little shit what did you say“

Do you think he speaks Russian?”

YEET!

That one must have hurt

Nicky and Joe just like “wow the new girl is hardcore”

“Faster than the elevator”

Gotta save Andy’s axe

Nicky sits in the middle which is the actual worst place to sit in a car

Do you think they al rocked up to a hotel covered in blood like “don’t ask just give us a room and a shower”

Joe still seething at Booker through the pub window

Nile having to live with the fact that her family will never know what really happened to her. That they’ll all think she was KIA and whatever body they send back won’t be hers

The 100 year naughty step

I love that Nile was gonna let Booker off with an apology like “he didn’t mean it he’s just a sad alcoholic”

Nobody look at me. Ok. Andy and Booker saying goodbye on the shore. I can’t. This is it. This is the scene that breaks me

“I won’t see you again” // “Have a little faith Book”

Joe really wants to hit Booker. Probably did in the interim

The big picture“

Maybe this is the why Andy”

Andy laying down the law and Joe in the background like “yeah this isn’t a request”

Meanwhile in Paris. Booker is tired and just wants a drink

I am a fan of the scruff though

If that’s water Quynh definitely brought it in herself for The Drama ™

QUYNH THOUGH

#the old guard #long post #disjoined thoughts #i have a lot of booker feelings #i am not apologising for what he did #i just have a lot of feelings about the why #in which my fave is the traitor of the group #why you ask? wish i knew mate #duchess.txt

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

Please consider, FnF Gladio meeting Reborn post lung-incident. Please, consider.

Ohhhh. Oh boy. OH BOY. Ummm I’m assuming you don’t mean Reborn as a reincarnation because he’s not gonna show up in Fangs and Feathers but hypothetically Imma bout to do a ficlet so buckle up-

Hypothetically Gladio is an adult, a Shield and a brother to Noctis, loyal and protective and FIERCE. Who trained himself to the ground, then pestered Cor for more because he was NEVER failing Noctis again, not in anyway. A Gladio who, when he was eighteen and finally had a motorcycle of his own, ran away to fight Gilgamesh and by the time Xanxus and Cor had busted their way through, found him bloody and tired and TRIUMPHANT, scarred and defiant and VICTORIOUS as Gilgamesh laughed, hollow and inhuman in his shell and presented Gladio with the sword Cor had lost when he tried the same at fifteen.

Hypothetically this Gladio is now 25 and strong and SKILLED, skilled enough to win against the famed, immortal Blademaster at 18, skilled enough to protect his king (he hopes, he prays, he trains because he is never going to fail this duty again, not in any way).

Hypothetically this Gladio has known for years that Noctis is a reincarnation, and that his original name was Tsunayoshi Sawada.

Hypothetically this Gladio, one day, sees his king stumble over air and catches him instinctively, and in the touch is pulled along as he falls through into another world. A parallel version of his past life. And while Noctis looks at the small town around them and pales, pulls his magic in until it’s totally hidden as if AFRAID, Gladio becomes angry. At the strange trip into another world, at Noctis’s reaction. At his FEAR.

They wander town, looking for a way back, and then Gladio hears a louder, more frightened version of the soft “hieeee” Noctis used to say as a child when startled, followed by a smooth, male voice that says, “A mafia boss doesn’t give up, Dame-Tsuna. Get up and do it again.”

Gladio sees Noctis flinch deep and visceral because even if Noctis had loved his tutor for freeing him, for teaching him (for eventually being ... not a father, but the only thing like it Tsuna had, after Reborn realized why Tsuna was so “hopeless” and actually apologized for all the terror he’d put Tsuna through, even if he never completely changed his methods), that is not the voice of his Reborn. For one, that was a man’s voice, not a cursed baby’s, which means things are already wildly different in this world. For another ... that was not the voice of the Reborn who had stood at his side until the end of his life, the one who had retired only when his head of hair was pure silver and his hands slightly shaky from arthritis. The voice that said “Dame-Tsuna” the same way others said “Son”.

This was the voice of Reborn before he cared. Hard and businesslike, borderline cruel as he forced his student to get up and try it again, to do it right this time or else risk being shot, who had forgotten what kindness was and indulged in pranks against the people who should have been in his care without a thought. This was a Reborn who had never been humbled, never seen his “helpless student” stand up to the one thing Reborn was terrified most of and say “No. You Can’t Have Him.”

Noctis does not want to see this Reborn. Doesn’t want to be anywhere near him.

Gladio sees the flinch, the expression of conflicted misery and fear and love and ... puts it together. Puts together the stories Noctis told him as they grew up and grew closer. Of his teacher who he loved, but who he had feared for years because of his too hard methods. Of being fourteen and shot again and again until he lost his ability to flinch at the sound of gunfire. Of being fourteen and forced to crawl to his feet and keep going even when his mouth tasted like copper and it hurt to breathe because Reborn wasn’t satisfied so Do It Again.

Gladio’s sword is out and he’s going for Reborn’s head before he can realize he’s moving.

Reborn, this one younger, this one not a cursed baby, this one who’s title of Arcobaleno is just a fancy label that marks him as one of the Mafia’s Best rather than someone who must carry a cursed artifact, barely ducks in time to avoid being beheaded. His retaliatory gunfire is swatted aside with obvious and open contempt, the sword slashing through sun-enhanced bullets like they were butter and not things powerful enough to rip through tanks. His student screams in fear and Reborn assumes the swordsman is an assassin come for the Vongola Heir, so he tries to lead the man farther away (not too far, in case the man had backup waiting for Reborn to be busy) from his useless student. The man follows easily, something hard and venomous in his gaze and Reborn inwardly scoffs because ah, the employer picked someone with a grudge against Reborn. How quaint.

It stops being quaint when the man launches on the offensive again and Reborn finds himself overwhelmed. Any attack is dodged or swatted aside like a fly, any feint is seen through and matched, the blade moves effortlessly in the man’s hands (Cloud? The sword looks heavy but he handles it like a paperweight), slicing through trees like frost, the shockwaves nearly sending Reborn flying the first time before he compensated. He catches a glint of Red flowing up the blade right before another unnaturally sharp and fast strike and realizes he’s up against a very strong Storm that is COMPLETELY ignoring Tsuna in favor of trying to take off Reborn’s HEAD.

Lovely. Just what he needed. Normally he would delight in this kind of thing, a nice break from trying to get train a useless civilian boy into a half-decent Mafia Boss.

But normally Reborn wouldn’t be giving ground and increasingly alarmed and afraid for his own life. The man just won’t STOP and none of Reborn’s tricks or tactics are working. Not diversions, not a flashbang shot to blind, nothing. He just keeps coming with a snarl on his face and speed that a Storm really shouldn’t have (the man fights like a Cloud, all unfair tanking and speed and power, but he is clearly a Storm in temper, in the red on his blade when his strikes split and devour the earth milliseconds after Reborn dodges.

Normally, Reborn would not be so hard pressed as to MISS the hunched figure that steals over to his student and starts gently talking to him before pressing a hand against the boy’s stomach.

The sudden EXPLOSION of Sky Flames, rippling out over the training ground, the park, the town, heck, probably the entire REGION definitely reclaims Reborn’s attention. His head snaps around to see, has a moment to be stunned by the sight of his student, his Weak Sky, Lazy Sky, Civilian Boy, wreathed in pure, pure amber Flames that make Luce’s look like guttering embers-

“Gladio, stop.” Says the stranger next to his student, eyes flashing from blue to bright red and Reborn feels steel stop just touching his neck, feels the wind of the halted blow send his hat flying, and pales. He’s slipped up for just a moment-

And if that stranger hadn’t spoken, that moment would have cost Reborn his life.

“He’s Reborn,” snarls the Storm, thick and furious and hateful.

“I know,” says the other man, “That’s why I want you to stop.”

The Storm growls feral and angry, pulls his sword away from Reborn’s neck, still ready to defend if Reborn tries to fight again, “He doesn’t deserve it. Any of it,” he spits and Reborn has the distinct impression he is missing something, because this ... doesn’t feel like disgruntled hitmen that want his fame and title.

The stranger near Reborn’s still wreathed-in-flame-student sounds ... sad. Nostalgic, is watching him with eyes that seem to see right through him and into his quietest, deepest parts, “I know,” the man repeats as he calmly helps Reborn’s student stand, “but I can’t help it.” A pause, a flicker of buried, ancient fury and hurt and suddenly the man is right next to the Storm in a flicker of sparks (Mist then? He doesn’t feel like a Mist). Reborn steps cautiously back, opens his mouth to demand answers (who were they, who did they work for, what had they just done to his student to make him for from a guttering Flame to a Sky Flame Reborn is almost getting FLAME DRUNK on right this minute).

He doesn’t see the man move. Just feels a touch on his stomach with gentle fingers.

The world goes grey. Grey and cold and deaf and dumb and blind and the world is spinning and he can’t get his feet under him, can’t keep them under him because he has no ANCHOR to the world, like its all just mist around his ankles. He drops his gun, falls over trying to get it back, curses as he stumbles to his knees because nothing is WORKING and he can’t THINK and what did they do? WHAT DID THEY DO? His Sun Flames are gone-gone-gone and he’s shaking and there is fog in his head and-

“Get up, Dame-Tsuna,” says the stranger softly, “a Mafia Boss doesn’t trip over his own two feet. Get up and do it again.” And it sounds like a quote. It is a quote. It’s him.

Reborn hisses a curse but STILL can't get his gun to stay in his hand long enough for a shot (he’s so cold so cold so cold)

“Stop it! Stop it!” Amber, burning and searing hot, curling around him as his student- as TSUNA leaps in the way, grabs the Mist’s (?) arm and pleads, “Don’t do it to him! He doesn’t deserve it, no one does! No one deserves that! Please!”

The man gently ruffles Tsuna’s hair, “You’re right. No one deserves it. It’s only temporary. It will wear off in just a few more seconds. I just ... wanted him to understand what it was like-”

Something inside Reborn shatters and his Sun Flames rush back, the world rushes back, sound and color, touch and taste and stability, the world stops sliding away from him and the fog clears just in time for him to hear-, “to be a completely Sealed Flame.”

Reborn lunges to his feet again, gun in a shaking but firm hand, mind whirling- “There was a seal on my student,” he hisses. Then he blanches, because this man just- that feeling had been- all this time his student-.

The stranger with the blue eyes shrugs, “Yes,” he says simply. “I removed it. Gladio, come on. I think our ride is here.”

The Storm scoffs but starts following the man away. Reborn takes a step after them, freezes when the sword comes to bear at his neck again, “Who are you?” he hisses, humiliated and humbled and wary for the first time in over a decade, “How did you know all this? What Famiglia are you sworn to?”

The Storm snorts and pulls his blade away, the other man pauses, sighs.

Unfurls his Flame like the rising of the dawn. It stretches and curls, strange and oddly crystalline, forming little shards of amber and blue diamonds in the air, but it’s powerful, it blankets the area, tangling and clicking effortlessly with Tsunayoshi’s almost like-

Almost like they were-

No.

No that was impossible.

Blue eyes are now amber gold as he smiles sadly, “Just a Sky who saw your student and knew what was really wrong.”

“I want your name,” Reborn rasps past the heady feeling of being surrounded by two Sky Flames (identical Sky Flames) that made Luce the Arcobaleno Sky look like a mere spark of fire.

A blink, a near mischievous (tired, bitter, nostalgic, conflicted) look, “We both know you already know my name, Reborn.” He turns away again, one hand tangling with the fingers of his Storm to keep the bear of a man from attacking Reborn again and somehow Reborn knows that there is nothing he can do to stop them from walking away.

Just as they reach the borders of the park and start to round the bend, the Sky lifts a hand in a lazy wave and a flippant, “Chaos, Reborn!” Then they’re around the bend and the crystalline Sky Flame is gone. Vanished from the air like it had never been.

Reborn stares, processing and staggering under the weight of ... everything that just happened. Looks down at his shivering student who leaped to his defense (poor defense, begging defense but still DEFENSE) even though Reborn has done nothing to win any sort of favor.

Even though he’s been pushing a Sky child past the breaking point without even noticing that the boy was sealed and not just weak from inexperience.

He needs a drink.

But first ... “I think that’s enough for today d-. Tsuna. Let’s take you home.”

Ask me in the next life, whispers in his ear over his whiskey late that night.

We both know you already know my name.

He’s Reborn

I know, that’s why I want you to stop.

He doesn’t deserve it. Any of it.

I know, but I can’t help it.

Ask me in the next life.

We both know you already know my name.

Reborn mutters a curse as he slugs back his drink. Buries the knowledge that just tried to behead him with a sword for another day. Or never. Preferably never. He has a training regime to drastically rewrite. And .... possibly. MAYBE. An apology to make to his student in the morning.

...

“You didn’t have to try to kill him, you know.” Noctis murmurs as they lounge in the sunshine of the Citadel garden. Safely returned to their home dimension with a little help from Umbra and Gentiana.

Gladio tightens his arms around his king, letting the smaller man sit in his lap like the cuddly cat his king-brother secretly is, “He deserves it. He hurt you. He hurt you so badly you’re still messed up in an entirely different lifetime.” He made you afraid of me. Even more than I had made you afraid of me. Gladio doesn’t say.

Noctis just sighs like he already knows, then murmurs, “At least I got the Seal off. I always wanted someone to come take the Seal off. Even before I knew what it was.”

Gladio growls and lets the matter slide.

But if they ever wind up back in that dimension, Gladio is going to track down Reborn and kick his tail again. Not kill him, that would upset his king-brother, but smack him around?

Yeah. That sounded good.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Fangs and Feathers verse #gladiolus amicitia #this ran away like crazy #now my hands hurt #oh well #also noctis stole the scene #but it was that or let gladio kill reborn out of RAGE #and we can't have that

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the-bluniverse · 3 years

Text

Character Info 4

Slate Blue (17-18, he/him, pansexual)

Student Blue (young adult/ageless, he/they, biromantic acespec)

Paladin Blue (24, he/him, demisexual)

Name: Slate.

Age: 17-18

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Pansexual

AU: Grey Bricks. A modern au in which an adventurous, naturalist Link wanders a bit too deep into an old nature reserve that lies beyond the outskirts of his city. Stumbling upon what appears to be a collapsed cavern, his interest is peaked. He manages to slip inside through a gap in the rocks, and stumbles upon something strange; an old rusty sword wedged between two rocks. Upon pulling the sword, he is suddenly split into four. Sage (Green), Wine (Red), Lavender (Vio), and Slate (Blue.) Not only that, but by pulling the sword he accidentally unleashed an ancient evil that is hellbent on causing chaos and destruction wherever it goes. The creature, Vaati, began to unleash hordes of monsters and demons onto the city that Link resided in. They slaughtered countless civilians, destroying everything in their path. It's up to the group of four to put a stop to this, by defeating Vaati and using the sword to seal him away once more.

Description: 6'0. Very athletic. Fluffy, light golden blonde hair. Skin is usually littered with bruises and scratches. Has a bandage on his lower left cheek. Deep blue eyes that are usually tired looking. Wears a paleish blue jacket with puffy blue gray sleeves. It has a water droplet patch sewn on the right side of the chest. Wears dark frayed blue jeans, along with some simple grey boots. Can usually be seen carrying around a worn baseball bat with blue fabric tied around the end.

History: At the beginning, Slate was just as confident and rowdy as the Blue we all know and love. He'd pick fights with random people and hunt monsters relentlessly, just to prove that he's truly the best Link. This changed, however, after his cockiness costed the life of someone very close to him. He had been leading Erune, a girl who had been extremely close to Link before he split into four, around in the safer parts of the city in search of supplies. Upon stepping into a narrow street, they were ambushed by a huge horde of bokoblins. Deciding to show off in front of Erune, he rushed forwards and began cutting them down left and right. While he was doing that, he didn't notice the group that were slowly slinking past him and towards Erune until it was too late. The girl was mauled by the monsters, the creatures ripping into her beaten body until Slate managed to cut them all down. By then she had long since been killed. This event completely smothered Blue's confident aura. Knowing that she would still be alive if he had paid more attention, he fell into a spiral of intense guilt. He became much more somber and quiet, unable to sleep due to the nightmares that played over and over in his mind like a broken record. He now keeps Erune's dagger tucked away in his right jacket pocket, holding onto it as a reminder of the horrible mistake he made.

Bonus/Trivia:

Slate is the culmination of Link's recklessness and overconfidence.

His favorite animal is a froggie :]

---

Name: Blue AKA Student (cause he's a student)

Age: young adult (ageless, but can still die. He's been around since the sixth century or so, he's an old Demon)

Pronouns: he/him, they/them

Sexuality: biromantic asexual

AU: FAM AU (Fields Academy of Magic AU)/Modern-with-magic AU

Personality: is generally hotheaded and tends to jump to conclusions. Is trying to learn as much as he can in order to get perfect grades. Knows too many kinda-illegal spells. A nerd, but an angry one.

Description: Black hair, blueish skin, glowing blue eyes, black horns, dragon like tail, claws, fangs. Wears a school-issued uniform meant to protect the wearer when they're using magic so they don't accidentally destroy their clothes or something.

History: created in the sixth century or so and is on a personal mission to attend every single magic school there is for the heck of it. Most recent target is FAM, mostly because he heard that Vio (17th-century Angel, best friend, former boyfriend) works there and they hadn't actually seen each other in about 15 years or so. Study partners with Shadow and is playing matchmaker with Shadow and Vio for the fun of it.

Bonus/Trivia:

ice/water-specific magic. Terrible at fire and wind, but know a little of earth magic from "childhood" (first couple centuries)

Can be killed like normal, is only ageless immortal but not a true immortal.

Resident healer since he specializes in water magic and therefore knows quite a lot of healing spells

pretty social and was surprisingly well-liked at FAM.

---

Name: Blue, aka Paladin

Age: 24

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Demisexual

AU: Hunter!Vio

Personality: Strong moral compass, a great leader, deeply involved in his faith and worship to the Golden Goddesses, a bit of a hothead.

Description: An absolutely monsterous height for a Hylian at 6'1", cool blue eyes, blond hair that reaches his waist and is usually tied up in a smooth ponytail. He's broad-shouldered with a warm tan, his hands rough from his rigorous daily training regiments. TW: SCARS He had a large scar that runs all the way down his chest, from under his collarbones to his xiphoid process

History: Blue pushed himself further into his faith in the Golden Goddesses after being bereft of his brother Vio in a freak accident of magic. Only a year later, his father passed away of what many called a broken heart from losing a son. Blue, seeing that his remaining brothers were already leading their lives on different paths, took up the mantle as the new captain of the Royal Guard. Years after the incident that started it all, Blue finds himself questioning whether or not Vio really did die that night, and went on the hunt for answers.

Weaknesses: Blue is desperately weak to the cold, but his strong constitution won't allow him to show it until he's past the point of becoming violently ill. TW: TRAUMA TALK The sickness is caused not only by the cold itself, but by the memories he has of being frozen solid in his youth. He would never admit it out loud, but even the chill of oncoming rain can give him flashbacks.

Bonus/Trivia:

Blue wears a gold Triforce pendant on a chain, gifted to him by his sister-in-law to be, Zelda.

He maintains his reputation as a great leader largely because of his natural inclination towards orderliness.

He's a man who can really hold his alcohol.

#four swords #blue link #bluniverse #Slate Blue #Student Blue #Important #Character Info #Paladin Blue #mod angel

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mbavholidayexchange · 3 years

Text

to @oceanographerschoice from @rowsha

title: holidays are for making you blush

rating: teen and up audiences

summary:

the story of a vampire learning to be loved, and the two idiots who love him.

ao3 link: link

content:

Rory Keaner grew up different from his boyfriends.

Not so much different from Benny, as they both grew up with a single parent, but much more different than Ethan. He sort of (definitely) envies Ethan in a way (in many ways); he envies his nuclear family, his good grades, his smarts, his humor, and-

His flat chest.

He envied Benny's too. Both of them, unlike Rory, grew up and identified as cisgender boys. Nothing changed about their wardrobe when they got to middle school. Neither of them had to deal with a substitute teacher who didn't know the chosen names of everyone in their class. They didn't live with the shame, the tears, the want to be someone other than themselves- they've been with each other since they were both in diapers. And Rory would never have that bond with the two of them. He would never be able to relate to them the way that they related to each other.

The jokes, the references, and the longing, knowing gazes they would shoot in the direction of the other. Rory didn't know what it was like to have someone know you inside and out. He knew the concept of his body was… an enigma all on its own. He knew his own brain betrayed him when it came to understanding a word Ethan and Benny were saying to each other half the time.

So, becoming a vampire made things…

The day he got bit was easily the best and worst day of his life. It was rushed, it was peer pressure, it was the way Rory felt waking up into a body he finally felt was his. But at the same time… he felt dead. No matter how you looked at it- he was a dead person, that was a part of him now. He didn't have a beating heart, just still blood that stayed cold and dead like cement flowing throughout his veins. He had no need to eat, but he still ate (in other ways). He didn't need sleep, not because he was immortal, but because the thought of never being the person he was before… it tore him up inside.

For the way he was born and for the way he transformed, he knew he wouldn't be the same as his boyfriends ever again. After all, they were human- well, minus Ethan because he's some type of prophet for the supernatural. And Benny too, what with him being a "spellmaster" as Grandma Weir put it. So, okay, maybe they weren't fully human. But they would grow old and live life the way it was meant to be lived- with death. And Rory would have to watch them die and be alone for all of eternity. Who else (other than a seer and witch) would be able to love someone so… noticeably undead?

To Rory's surprise, Benny and Ethan didn't really care whether he was alive or "undead." they cared about keeping Rory safe from being found out. They stole bags from the blood drive, they picked up extra sunblock for him at the corner store. Sunglasses, hoodies, rats- the whole nine yards. Just to make Rory happy. Just to keep him from exposure. it made him wonder if all those intrusive thoughts of never being to love again once they were dead were valid at all. He feels like, to a certain degree, the thought of his boyfriends staying with him (even after they were long gone) would be enough for him to make it on his own.

There were still other things about being a vampire trapped in a girl's body that bothered him. On one hand, he could run away from his mom and live his life and live somewhere with Ethan and Benny in the woods. Like they did in Dusk. On the other hand, he could tell someone other than those two what was going on, and that he needed help (a cure, a surgery, something). If he stayed the way he was, trapped inside his room with the curtains drawn and sneaking vermin into his room, he would stay like that until his mom noticed he wasn't aging and find out the awkward way. But if he just told somebody maybe it would be hard and he could find a cure like Sarah did and live and die with Benny and Ethan and-

No. That's not possible.

He can't tell anyone. Not a single soul. that he's a vampire- that he's transgender. That his disgusting, embarrassing name is Tabitha Abigail Keaner and that's the name he has to hear over and over and over at home. At a place that doesn't feel like home because home was wherever Ethan and Benny were.

But he can't keep it in any longer. Surely, it's going to get blurted out eventually. Or written in a note followed by "I've decided to skip town, you'll never see me again, goodbye everyone." He wondered, sometimes, how much a bus ticket would cost.

Not a lot of it makes sense, and not a lot of it should make sense. But he knows that no matter how horrible his home life will get, and no matter how much he wants to correct teachers and substitutes, he'll always have his home. Ethan will always put on a videogame and Benny will always order a pizza for the three of them. And they will always call him Rory, whenever they kiss or hold hands or ask him to pass the remote.

Rory decided that he wouldn't let the daunting gloom of immortality shake him as much as it did when he was just a fledgling. He decided that the future was malleable and the present was cement, because of Ethan throwing his controller and Benny slamming the door on the delivery guy's face. He cherishes what he has, even if it is two dorks in Canada. For now, as the thoughts of them dying swim in his mind's kiddie pool, Rory rests on Ethan's chest while holding Benny's hand.

"Chag ah molad baruch, Ror." Benny says, placing a kiss on Rory's cheek as they sat under Ethan's Christmas tree.

He blushes, both because of Benny's kiss and the embarrassment of not learning Hebrew fast enough. He looks down at the wrapped gift in his lap, sitting shiny and neat underneath a large plastic ribbon. He pulls Benny in for a hug. It only lasts for a second or two, before he pulls back to ask:

"That means 'blessed Yule', right?"

Benny laughs, then nods in agreement. He gives Rory another peck on the cheek and Rory has to try his best not to squeal like a Dusk fangirl.

"Or 'merry Christmas'," Ethan interjects, face stuffed with Grandma Weir's cookies, "but if you wanna look at its root meaning, it translates to-"

"Celebrating the birth of a male. Yes, E, we know." Benny and Rory both roll their eyes, knowing that Ethan was never slow when it came to languages.

Rory feels a bit bitter that Benny taught Ethan hebrew before him- but then again, they did meet before they met Rory, so it makes sense that Ethan would be almost fluent in it by now. Still, it didn't stop Rory from being jealous of their impenetrable bond.

Ethan shrugs, turning back to the cookie platter only to notice the last of the treats had been mysteriously eaten. He gasps dramatically, spinning around to face Benny and Rory, who were gleefully eating the remaining cookies together.

"Stupid vampire speed." he grumbles, sitting down next to the two of them. Rory ruffles his hair playfully, and he smiles.

"You should know you're no match for the vampire ninja, babe." Rory says matter-of-factly, resting on his elbows now. A smug smile was plastered on his face as Ethan scowled and Benny giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." he says with his arms crossed, "open my gift first."

"No way! My gift is cooler!" Benny says, pushing Ethan's gift out of Rory's lap and snapping his fingers. Suddenly, a small, beautifully wrapped box is in the other gift's place. It sparkles with magic air, shining (quite literally) as bright as a star.

"Wh- no fair! Yours didn't glow before! Take it back!" Ethan surges towards Benny, tackling him to the ground. They both struggle for a while, Benny pulling at Ethan's hair and Ethan trying to put Benny in a chokehold while Rory falls to the floor laughing.

After enough laughing, and concern for his boyfriends' well being, Rory decides to speak up.

"Okay, how about I open the gifts with my eyes closed? That way, whichever gift I pick is a surprise."

The two boys look up from their tangled position at Rory, Ethan's fist stopping mid-air above Benny's face. They look at each other, then shrug. They untangle themselves from each other, sitting prim and proper next to the tree. It makes Rory's smile even wider.

"Seems fair to me." Benny says.

"I don't see why not." Ethan agrees.

With that, Rory closes his eyes and begins to reach underneath the tree. He feels around for a bit, hand accidentally bumping the branches of the fake plant, until he feels a gift. He can't tell whose it is, but he knows that it's medium sized and wrapped in a bow. He thinks it might be the present from earlier. He picks it up and settles it on his lap, opening his eyes.

"To Rorster, from Ethan." he reads aloud, "looks like Ethan's is up first."

Benny groans in defeat, and Ethan pumps his fist in triumph. He briefly turns to Benny and kisses him apologetically, ruffling his hair. "Better luck next time, Ben."

"Go on, open it." Ethan encourages, arm around Benny.

Rory rips through the paper excitedly, making sure to keep the bow intact as he tears off the decorative wrapping. When all the paper is gone, he sees a familiar logo across the seal. His eyes widen in realization, mouth agape in wonder. Could Ethan really have pulled this off? No way- no way he could've done this…

"Ethan, you shouldn't have…" Rory says as he peels back the seal on the package, opening it to reveal-

A chest binder.

Not just any chest binder- a GC2B binder. And not just one, but multiple; a nude one that matches his skin tone, a black one, and a navy blue one. Rory clutches his hands over his mouth. He can't believe this… he knows how expensive these were, and he just… can't imagine how Ethan got the money to buy them.

"How- how did you-" Rory picks up the binders one by one, running his hands over the smooth material. Tears began to form in his eyes.

"It was nothing, really. I just used my birthday money from the past year or so and figured it would come in handy one day." Ethan said it like it was really nothing, shrugging nonchalantly as he leaned on Benny's side.

Rory, dumbfounded, couldn't keep his eyes off the binders. They seemed to shine brighter than the magic box, to glimmer in the light of the tree. The fabric felt silky smooth on one side, and perfectly rough on the other. It made Rory's heart want to leap out of his chest and swaddle his boys in the tightest of hugs. The tears from earlier were beginning to fall as Rory couldn't keep his happiness inside of him for much longer. The two boys began to take notice of his tears, wiping their own eyes themself.

"Well, I guess you gotta open mine now." Benny smirks when he says it, a glint in his eye that Rory knew all too well.

This is either going to be a very elegant gift or a very elaborate set up to a prank.

Rory opens the gift with caution, untying the ribbon around the small box. Still glowing, Rory has to squint his eyes to lift the top of the box off. He holds his hand over his eyes as if the sun was beaming directly into them. After a while, the light begins to die down.

"Jeez, Benny," Ethan rubs his irritated eyes, "did you have to make it so… painful to look at?"

"It's for the drama, dude."

Rory chuckles at that, wiping a light-induced tear from his eye as he reaches inside the box. His hand comes in contact with something small and… textured? It feels like a chain of some sort. He picks it up, then gazes in awe at the present in his palm.

"A locket? Ben…" true to his word, it's a real locket. The chain is silver, as is the heart shaped pendant hanging from it. Rory can see his reflection in the heart, and it makes his chest flutter.

"Open it!" Benny smiles from ear to ear, along with Ethan, who is just as in awe as Rory.

Doing as he's told, he opens the pendant. Inside is a picture of the three of them. They're at the place where they got those milkshakes that made Ethan discover he was lactose intolerant. As he blinks, the image changes. The picture of Benny and Ethan dressed as Ghostbusters on Halloween makes him remember the time they got swirlies from those jocks. It changes again to a moving image of Benny tripping and falling at the roller rink.

"I have no idea how you got pictures of these, but I love them. Thank you." Rory wraps his arms around Benny briefly, kissing him on the cheek as he lets go.

"It's a spell." Benny states proudly, "it shows all of your zikheronott semekhim- or 'happy memories', with the ones you love."

Ethan slaps him playfully on the shoulder. "You made my gift look like shit!"

Benny rushes to tackle Ethan, and they return to their shenanigans. They tussle on the floor again, looking like total geeks. Rory goes into another laughing fit as Ethan sits on Benny's back, trying to force him into a grotesque, spit-soaked kiss.

The next day, Rory proudly walks out of his house with a flat chest. His locket tucked safely under his shirt.

#my babysitter's a vampire #mbav #ronnethan #rory keaner #benny weir #ethan morgan

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