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thequietkid-moonie · 5 months

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Getting delusional after losing his darling

[ ONE-SHOT, YANDERE ] [ Beelzebub ]

[ Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Records of Ragnarok ]

Hehe I got a lot of fun while writing this, it was a really interesting prompt, I wouldn't mind writing it again 🤭

hope you enjoy it as much as i did, dear reader

He knew this was going to happen, he always knew that getting close to you was a bad idea, ve didn't deserve you after all. But at the same time he was so desesperate to be close to you that he couldn't just get away from you, he forced this to happen when he started to follow you and now he hates himself even more for it

Despite he being a cursed man you did just smiled at him and offered your hand to him to take, he shouldn't accept it but he just wasn't able to stop himself and - the moment he held your hand on how your destiny was sealed, he know it but he wanted to believe that he could find a way to avoid it or he even had believe that he would have the strenght to get away from you before it happened, but he was a fool, an idiotic fool that was so desperate for your love that he was blinded, he chose to ignore the cruel reality and now he is paying the price

Countless have been the times that whenever he is finally able to fall sleep and try to get some rest that fades away in a second, quickly waken up by his own screams of terror at the nightmares that terrorize him every night, is always the same nightmare, and the worst is that it isn't actually a nightmare, everytime he manage to fall sleep the memory of your dead body came to him, and Beelzebub can't do anything but look at you, like if all those details where screaming at him to be look at, your terrified expression, your blood covering all your body and the floor, that immense injury on your chest, right were your hearts was once, and, at the end, his hand covered in your blood

Everytime is the same, he can't stop looking until the terror is so much that he just wakes up screaming, but he can't do anything, there is no way to bring you back and no matter what he does he can't find the comforting end he has been craving for since what feels like an eternity, he is just doomed to be tortured by the memory and the guilt, by the disgusting feeling of your warm and bright blood in his hands that seems to never leave him alone neither

Beelzebub has even tried to cut his hand off, the hand that had killed you, but not matter how hard he try he can't, not even this he can do and it just frustrated him more and more, he can't do anything anymore since the guilty feeling is eating him alive

All of this reach a point where even living is soffocating, he doesn't has to fall sleep anymore to be tortured with the memory, guilt is driving Beelzebub insane to the point where he swears he can heard Satan laughing at his missfortune everytime he wakes up from that terrible nightmare

This is too much for him, he can't even live with his own mind now. The constant toruture continued until one day a little ray of hope came to his life, one of those days where he was just trying to hold back together his own self, were he felt like he was falling apart in the most horrible way posible, when he was begging to whatever could heard him to help him this pain stop a gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, imediatly startled by it Beelzebub turn his head so fast that he could easily had break his neck, his desesperated eyes quickly found the most beautiful sight he has ever seen before (or at least that was what he felt), it was you

You were standing right beside him, your beautiful eyes filled with worry and with a little frown you asked him whats wrong with the sweetness voice in the world

In that moment everything seem to stop for Beelzebub, unable to do anything aside from looking at you in awe, he doesn't know how long it took him to be able to react again (not that he cares anyways), completely scare but at the same time desperate he throw himself into your arms, crying desperate apologies, crying his eyes out and apologizing, saying how he was so undeserving of you and how he was nothing but a monster, but at the same time expressing how much he had missed you and how he didn't know how to keep going without you

Beelzebub cried and cried until he literally had passed out because of how exhausted he was, being a complete mess but finally being able to have an actual rest. Once he finally wake up again it take him only a second to remember what happened and jump on his place, extremely scare of the posibility of not seeing you again, fearing that you being there was just a dream, but luckily for him you were still there, offering that beautiful and sweet smile that he loves so much along with a "good morning", and that was enough for him to feel like everything was going to be alright, that he has nothing to fear anymore

However, despide the fact that Beelzebub's mental state seem to slowly improve with you here is actually the opposite, he slowly insolate himself more and more as the time pass because he only needs his beloved darling for him to be alright, besides he is incredibly scare about the posibility of losing you again so he prefers to never leave your side

Beelzebub had never been liked for much people but even people who barely know him had start to worry about him, watching him go around holding onto nothing and talking to himself has become a pretty common sight, and yet a creppy one, something that no matter how much you look at you don't get used to it. His closest ones had tries to talk to him, to explain that, in fact, you aren't here but everytime someone barely just present that posibility Beelzebub quickly snaps against that person, calling them a liar in the most harsh way posible before dragging you away from those who just want to get into your relationship

Beelzebub slowly get more and more insane, depending completely on that imagine of you that makes him company but he doesn't care, that fragile imagine is enough for him to make life more bearable and he won't lose it for anything, even if that means hide from the rest of the world so it can be just the two of you

#snv x reader #ror x reader #snv beelzebub x reader #ror beelzebub x reader #snv beelzebub #ror beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #manga x reader

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lamardeuse · 1 year

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We’d be so grand at the game

(Buck/Eddie, rated E, c. 12000 words)

visual teaser

First of all, Eddie knew it was a bad idea, okay? But it also kind of made sense.

Somewhere in the last couple of years, he'd gotten stone cold petrified of dating. Fine, let's be honest, he'd always hated dating. The thought of meeting stranger after stranger, both of you desperate to make some sort of connection, was Eddie's idea of hell. Deciding what to do, where to go, whether the restaurant was not fancy enough or too fancy, whether the activity he proposed was too boring or kid-oriented, then actually going on the date and trying to make small talk or be charming – the point was that the whole thing, from start to finish, was a nightmare.

“You dated a lot,” he said to Buck one night, after Christopher had gone to bed and it was just them and a baseball game the Dodgers were seriously losing, “how did you – you know, keep women interested?”

“Uh,” Buck said, “well, I wouldn't call a lot of what I did dating, exactly. They were hookups, not anything that might have led to something more meaningful – or even a second date. I kept them interested long enough to get what we both came for, I guess.”

Eddie took a long drink of his beer and tried to ignore the way the tips of his ears suddenly felt hot. He'd heard enough stories about Buck 1.0 from Hen and Chimney to know Buck hadn't made the best choices in those days, but it was another thing to hear it from Buck himself.

Buck added, “The first woman I seriously dated was Abby, and that was – the definition of complicated.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, we didn't go out much. But then our first real date ended with her giving me a tracheotomy.”

Eddie nearly choked on his beer. “Holy shit, Buck,” he managed, coughing. “How have I never heard this story?”

Buck grimaced. “Because it's embarrassing? Besides, I always got the feeling you didn't like her very much.”

“I don't,” Eddie admitted. Honestly, he kind of hated her, and he'd barely met her. From what he'd learned from Buck and the others, it seemed to him like she'd used him, only to drop him like a hot rock the minute he'd served his purpose. She'd never really seen him as anything but a pretty young bedwarmer instead of a person worthy of consideration. She'd never seen Buck.

And it was possible he was a little biased. Especially when he'd had to watch Buck pull a dangerous stunt because he thought her happiness was worth more than his life.

“Well anyway,” Buck said, “the point is I'm not a big expert on dating either. I just sort of – go with the flow, let the other person take the lead.”

“Hm,” Eddie said. “Yeah, I've had it with doing that. I went with the flow and ended up married and having a kid at twenty-one.” He held up a hand at Buck's startled look. “Not that I'd trade Christopher for the world. But I've spent a lot of time feeling like I'm being swept along while other people make the decisions for me, and I'm tired of it.”

“I guess we all feel that way sometimes,” Buck murmured. “Nobody is one hundred percent the master of their own destiny.”

“You believe in fate?”

Buck made a face. “Not exactly? Just – Taylor said once that I should let the universe come to me –”

This time it was Eddie's turn to make a face, and Buck laughed. “Man, you clearly hate my taste in women, huh?”

“I thought Allie was nice.”

“She dumped me while I was still recovering,” Buck said, sounding mildly outraged.

“She got scared. I get it – Shannon was terrified when I went overseas.”

“We're not soldiers, Eds.”

Eddie had a sudden memory of the steady beeping of the machines that kept Buck alive, having to dig his nails into the palms of his hands to stop himself from counting every single one. “Last couple of years, it hasn't felt all that different,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I – I guess you have a point.” Buck blew out a breath. “And that makes it harder too, you know? What we do is dangerous at the best of times. Not everyone wants to sign up for that.”

“Geez,” Eddie said, leaning his head back against the couch. “Guess we're going to be alone for the rest of our lives.”

“Speak for yourself,” Buck said.

Eddie lifted his head. “What, so you're dating now?”

“I'm – going to,” Buck said, drawing himself up.

“When?”

“As soon as I remember my Tinder password.”

“You can reset your password, you know that, right?” Buck glared at him, and Eddie looked back at him steadily, his eyebrows raised.

And then they both burst out laughing.

“God, we're a pair, huh?” Buck said, wiping his eyes.

Eddie felt his heart thump against his breastbone. “Yeah. I guess we are.”

Buck hitched a leg up on the couch and turned more toward Eddie, the disastrous game forgotten. “So how do we get ourselves back out there?”

Eddie opened his mouth. Closed it. Shrugged. “Practice?”

“How are we gonna practice if we can't even take the first step?”

Three hours later, when he was lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, Eddie would not be able to pinpoint with any certainty what possessed him to say what he said next. All he knew was that at the time, it seemed like the perfect answer, the obvious solution.

“We practice on each other.”

read the rest at the AO3

#my stuff #buddie #911 fic

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griffintail · 3 years

Note

I just had this small idea of a Pokémon AU? One where the Sbi family helps their younger sibling, who’s nervous around Pokémon, to get more comfortable around them? I just think it’d be cute to have Techno, Wil, and Tommy be good big brothers. And yeah, this is kind of inspired by that kid from the Destiny Deoxys movie, and Lillie from the Sun and Moon games/series.

I don't think I've researched this much for a request XD I even watched the movie! Bonus points to those who know who I based Techno's character off of!

Pokémon Fears

Pairings: Platonic! Tommy, Technoblade, Wilbur, x GN! Sibling! Reader

Warnings: Pokemon Battles?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Technoblade

(Y/N) cheered up in the stands louder than most of the people around them, Phil having long ago given up on quieting his youngest as they were watching his oldest battle. It was the championship and they were against the champion of their region, Technoblade. (Y/N) loved watching Techno during the League battles, though it was a different story off the field.

They roared with the crowd as the finalist last Pokémon was down, Techno patting his Garchomp’s shoulder for a good job.

“Alright.” Phil laughed before picking (Y/N) up and putting them on his shoulders. “Let’s go congratulate Techno.”

Holding onto Phil’s hands as he walked, (Y/N) eagerly chatted about the different Pokémon the other trainers used. It always surprised Phil that (Y/N) was always interested in the different creatures but if one so much as got too close…

(Y/N) squeaked as a Pidgey flew by their head, ducking down. Phil sighed patting their knee.

“It’s alright. They’re not going to do anything.”

Phil and the boys were never quite sure why (Y/N) was afraid of Pokémon, but they just were and couldn’t get near them. They could watch battles from a distance and had a decent amount of knowledge about various types, but couldn’t pluck the courage to be a few steps from them.

Techno was moving away from a few fans when (Y/N) and Phil showed up.

“Techno!” (Y/N) grinned again. “That was so cool! When Garchomp earthquaked their Blaziken-”

Techno chuckled as he took his sibling from Phil and let them ramble.

“Alright, alright.” He told them. “Why don’t we get something to eat and give Phil a break while you talk?”

“Can we go to that good sandwich place?” (Y/N) grinned.

“Yeah, ok. We’ll be home later Phil.”

“Ok, make sure you’re home before ten,” Phil told him and Techno gave a mock salute before walking off.

He let (Y/N) ramble away about the battles as he got their food and brought them to a park, sitting at a more secluded table. (Y/N) went quiet as they began to eat and Techno waited before speaking.

“So, why don’t we try again?” He offered as he took a Pokeball off his belt.

(Y/N) frowned as they shrank in their seat a bit, muttering, “I don’t know…”

“You got really close last time to actually petting Togekiss.” Techno reminded them. “So, why don’t we try one more time?”

“I got really close but I didn’t…I’m still scared.”

“It's ok to be. You sit and watch me battle trainer after trainer after all. You see what they do for battle. You don’t take a lot of time to just sit with them.” Techno said. “So, let’s let Togekiss sit with us.”

Techno let the Pokémon out and the creature let out a small noise as he stood on the table. (Y/N) squirmed in their seat as they looked at the creature.

“Why don’t you keep eating then try and pet him? Ok?” Techno offered and (Y/N) stared at the Pokémon before slowly nodding.

Their lunch continued, (Y/N) even quieter with the creature so close. Techno occasionally gave a bit of food to his Togekiss until both he and (Y/N) were done.

“Alright, now let’s try. Just be gentle, just like this.” Techno pet his Togekiss. “You can do it.”

(Y/N) stared at the Pokémon before reaching a hand out shakily. Togekiss stayed still, having done this a few times before and knowing his movement scared the poor child. (Y/N)’s and hovered above his head before closing their eyes and finally put their hand on top of it. Techno grinned proudly as (Y/N) stayed still for a moment before opening their eyes and grinning themselves when they saw that they actually did it.

“I-I did it!” (Y/N) grinned as they gently pet Togekiss, the Pokémon giving a small noise of delight.

“You did. I told you, you could.” Techno patted their head. “Now, you’ll be a champion before you know it.”

(Y/N) giggled as they smiled lightly at the Pokémon. Yeah, they’d be just like Techno.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wilbur

Wilbur came up to (Y/N)’s door, knocking. A moment later, (Y/N) opened and smiled up at him.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m going to play my guitar with my Pokémon, want to come and try sitting with us today?” Wilbur crouched in front of them.

It was always sad to Wilbur to see his sibling afraid of Pokémon. He knew they had a bad encounter with a more aggressive Taillow but he was sad to see they couldn’t bring themselves to be near other types. It made sense why they were extremely afraid of Phil’s Murkrows but not as much for other types. He actually missed sitting with (Y/N) while he played guitar and his Pokémon sang with them.

(Y/N) hesitated at the doorway before nodding slowly. “Yes.”

Wilbur smiled, ruffling their hair as he stood up. “Ok, get your shoes on and grab your jacket just in case and we’ll go to the park.”

He waited by the front door for them and called to Phil they were going out when they came down. They walked side by side to the park, the pair joking with each other. At one point, Wilbur gave them a shove before sprinting the rest of the way, challenging them as he ran away. (Y/N) laughed before sprinting after him, calling him out for his cheating.

The pair finally sat by the lake and Wilbur tuned his guitar.

“Any requests?” Wilbur looked up at them.

They shifted nervously now as now would be the time to let the Pokémon out and he smiled gently as he ruffled (Y/N)’s hair.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’ll only let Lapras and Marill to start, ok? We’ll work up to Altaria.” Wilbur assured them.

(Y/N) was silent before nodding. “Ok…can you sing one of your songs?”

He kept his soft smile for his sibling as he took out two Pokeballs from his bag. “Of course, I can, you ready?”

They nodded once more and he released Lapras in the lake and Marill next to the water’s edge. (Y/N) moved back slightly as Marill gave a delighted motion to see the other human again.

“Alright, you two,” Wilbur said putting a hand on top of Marill’s head. “We’re going to stay calm and sing for (Y/N).”

Both of the Pokémon let out a noise of agreement before Wilbur started to play. (Y/N) watched nervously as the trio in front of them. Wilbur was singing the actual words as he strummed as his Pokémon managed to harmonize with him, making a beautiful sound. They were starting on the third song when (Y/N) finally started to sing with them. Wilbur grinned brightly as he continued, Marill giving an elated noise as Lapras gave an encouraging one.

After the group finished the fourth song, they took a moment to break and Wilbur just strummed mindlessly when Marill wandered over to (Y/N). They scooted back slightly as Wilbur paused to put his instrument down.

“It’s ok. Marill would never hurt you. She just wants to sit in your lap, just like she used to.”

(Y/N) hesitated but sat still, shaking as Marill sat in their lap. They looked up at Wilbur to see him smiling as he scooted next to them to put a hand on their shoulder.

“See? You’re alright. It’s just Marill.”

(Y/N) stared down at the Pokémon in their lap before shakily putting a hand on her head. Marill gave an excited noise, startling (Y/N), but Wilbur hugged them around the shoulder to calm them.

“It’s ok,” Wilbur assured them.

They sat with their hand on Marill’s head for a few minutes before finally smiling lightly as they finally ran their hand along her head.

“There you go. I’m very proud of you.” Wilbur grinned.

“Thanks, Wilbur.” They smiled up at him.

It was a week later when Altaria was able to once more join their group.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy

“How do you plan on helping (Y/N)?” Tubbo asked and Tommy groaned loudly.

“I don’t know big man! Phil, Techno, and Wilbur all tried to help them out but they still can’t even get close to their own Pokémon!” Tommy threw up his arms.

It had been a week when Tommy and (Y/N) had snuck into a safari area they weren’t supposed to be in. As such, the Pokémon in the area had been startled by their presence and both had to be helped by the adults. Tommy had been fine, he didn’t mind the change in their adventure, but (Y/N) being a bit younger than him had been freaked out by the experience and was terrified at the moment to be around Pokémon, even their own Eevee, Electrike, and Riolu.

So, not only was Tommy in trouble for having the pair sneak into a place they were supposed to be but for also making (Y/N) freak out like they were.

“What can I do?” Tommy asked his friend.

Tubbo hummed. “Well, what did they like to do with their Pokémon before?”

“We’d have mock battles and they liked to go on walks and play with them,” Tommy told him.

“Well then do that! Have a mock battle with them. I’m sure they can’t resist, you both want to be trainers, right?”

“Well, yeah, we’re going to be the best champions!”

“Then they won’t be able to say no.”

Tommy nodded after a moment, grinning. “Yeah! Thanks, Tubbo! I got to go do that now!”

Tommy ran back home to gather (Y/N)’s Pokémon and his own in the backyard. Once he had them all, he knocked on (Y/N)’s door. They opened, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s up Tommy?” They asked.

“I challenge you to battle!” Tommy declared.

(Y/N) frowned, shuffling nervously. “I…Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on! We’re going to be Pokémon Champions, right?” Tommy grinned.

“I don’t know if I want to anymore.” (Y/N) muttered.

“Oh, come off it.” Tommy huffed before grabbing their hand.

“Tommy.” (Y/N) protested but Tommy dragged them to the backyard.

“No, come on. We’ve both wanted to be trainers since before we could even have Pokémon. You have been training yours and learning to be a trainer and now you want to quit? I won’t let it happen.” Tommy told them before going into the backyard. “So, let’s battle.”

(Y/N) shook as they saw the six Pokémon waiting and having their own conversations it seemed. There were (Y/N)’s own three and Tommy’s Charmander, Torchic, and Cyndaquil.

“T-Tommy, I can’t!” (Y/N) tried to leave.

“You can. Look, you and I are better than any other trainer. And you’re not giving it up.” Tommy pulled them forward and made them stand away but behind their Pokémon before he stood behind his own. “Now, you make the first move!”

Tommy didn’t want (Y/N) to throw away everything the pair of them had learned. They had both been excited about becoming trainers and had mock battles where their Pokémon didn’t seriously hurt each other and they even used all of their Pokémon at once. They both thought it’d make them better trainers as they would be able to focus much better on a one-on-one battle and they’d know how to make split-second calls faster. The pair of them worked so hard! And Tommy didn’t want to be the reason (Y/N) quit.

This had to work.

(Y/N)’s Pokémon were very happy to see them. Their Eevee and Electrike wagged their tails as their Riolu waved at them. (Y/N) gripped their hands nervously. They were so close to Pokémon and they were scared…but Tommy was right, they did want to be a trainer…even if they thought quitting was best.

“Come on (Y/N)!” Tommy cheered from his side.

They looked over at their brother and Tommy was grinning. They thought before taking a deep breath. They could do this…

“…Electrike! Thunderwave on Charmander!” They called out, Electrike letting out an excited call before doing as told, the rest of the Pokémon eager for the mock battle.

Tommy grinned brightly. “Cyndaquil! Smoke Screen!”

“Riolu, foresight!”

The pair played out their battle, both smiling and enjoying time with their Pokémon after. Tommy was extremely relieved as (Y/N) sat happily petting their Eevee. He’d be careful next time.

#mcyt x reader #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x reader #technoblade x reader #sbi x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction

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cutegirlmayra · 3 years

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Kairi Prompt

* !!!SPOILERS FOR MELODY OF MEMORY WARNING!!! *

This happens during Kairi’s exam, where Aqua was trying to prepare her but suddenly, a new enemy began to threaten some uncharted worlds.

Worried this could mean something bad is happening with darkness again, Aqua, Terra, and Ventus go to investigate through the door to darkness, while Roxas, Axel, and Xion state they’ll try looking around in the world of light.

Kairi wants to journey too, but wonders if she should go alone...

Thinking this may be from the data world, Mickey can’t abandon his research, and Goofy and Donald are sent there.

Kairi... is once again alone.

She hadn’t really snuck onto the gummi ship, she just wandered into it and no one seemed to notice.

She wondered if she should talk to Master Yen Sid... but something told her she already knew what to do.

She continued to walk over to the main chair of the ship... in the middle and in front of the other two.

She placed a loosely-bundled fist up to her chest, looking down a moment. “Why... am I here?”

She could feel something... calling... and closed her eyes.

“Sora... you’re with me, right? Hehe, I should have known.” She smiled and lowered her hand down, looking more determinedly towards the windows of the gummi ship. “If you heard what was going on, you wouldn’t just sit back and wait... for someone else to direct your course... would you?”

She tilted her head, under the impression that maybe if his voice couldn’t reach her where he was... that her voice still could.

“Right, let’s do this! Together!” She summoned her keyblade, pointing it out as it began to glow at it’s tip, and the gummi ship began to activate.

“Ohh!” Startled by the sudden wind, Queen Minnie and Daisy turned to see it floating up and a lighted beam shoot out from it. “Could it be..?” Minnie had to wonder a moment, “No, it’s Kairi! Kairi..!” She waved, joyfully wishing her off.

“Your majesty!” Daisy reached up and dropped her hand, “Should you really be so relaxed right now? She’s going off on her own!”

“I know,” Minnie smiled to her, then gently placed her hand on Daisy’s which had lowered her arm from sending Kairi off on her way. “Isn’t it exciting?”

Daisy looked amazed, her beak opening to say something, before shaking her head and smiling politely to her. She let her arms drop and remain poised in the front of her, down and over one another, “You’re right... It is...” She looked up with hope in her eyes and faith that Kairi was ready, and that she may find something the others couldn’t.

“Besides,” Minnie began, still watching the gummi ship take off in a large burst that rippled the wind back and made the two girls brace themselves. “Hmhm, she’s never alone.” Minnie placed her hands together, as though saying a silent prayer, and then with a touch of magic, her fingertips started glowing and gathering light around them.

“Ah! Your highness!” Daisy seemed to recognize this power. “A-are you sure!?”

“I’m very certain... Kairi may not need it, but I’d feel awfully worried if I didn’t at least give her a... oh, a pick-me-up! That’s a fun thing to call it!” she giggled once more in her glee and raised one hand away from the other, shooting a star up into the sky that trailed after Kairi.

“A royal blessing...” Daisy commented, and lowered her head in respects. “Ohh... without that blessing though, who’s going to guard you?”

She seemed to be hinting at the magic being somewhat a shield of somekind, but it wasn’t certain.

Minnie turned around and winked to her, and stated, “I’ll be alright! I’ve got Mickey home at last. Though he’s hard at work, I don’t want to seem like I’m slacking either.” and again, her eyes turned back to where the gummi ship was far out of sight now... the shooting-star’s trial of stardust was all that twinkled to show which way it had headed. “It’s up to Kairi and the lingering spirit of Sora’s presence in her heart to carry out the rest.” She nodded with certainty. “And if anyone can teach Kairi what she needs before taking the mark of mastery, it’s definitely going to be from a journey with Sora.” She amused over the idea, “What a lovely date they’ll have!” She covered her mouth and closed her eyes, realizing she was being a bit nosy, and turned around to think her mischievously charming thoughts to herself. “Come along now, Daisy. Let’s tell Mickey what we’ve done...”

“Y-yes, your majesty.” Daisy sighed, walking after her, “Oh bother... Do we have to take the stairs?”

Kairi went to many Disney worlds that Sora and the gang haven’t ventured to before, previously. However, many of the characters seemed to know Sora, or at least, friends of Sora by some degree.

Kairi also came back to other worlds he had visited, finding that their stories were far from over, and there was--in fact--something influencing darkness and evil in the worlds... it strengthened their foes or new ones...

For example, Kairi learned from Merida that one decides their own fate, whether it’s by their hand or some magic, you always can choose your fate... if you’re brave enough to seize it.

“This time...” She watched the ghostly wisps beckoning her to where the bears were fighting. She summoned her keyblade, gripping it strongly as though with an iron fist, “I’ll decide where my fate starts.” she took off, ready to help Merida and her mother.

In Dumbo, Kairi realized that it wasn’t her keyblade, her own personal strength, or even her friends that necessarily gave her all the power she ever needed. It was also faith in herself, what she already had, that would bring her the greatest powers yet to come.

“And you gave him that faith to fly, didn’t you?” She looked at the little mouse as it took off it’s ring-master hat and bowed to her. “And Dumbo...” She giggled, “It was never the feather that you wielded. It’s power was always your own... I think I understand now.” She looked over at her keyblade, “All my strength... or at least, the strength that I’ve always had... I’ve just yet to realize it.” She smiled, finding some confidence in herself. “I bet that’s how Sora and Riku once felt... I thought, if I could be a Keyblade Master, maybe... I don’t know,” She lowered the keyblade, looking back to the little elephant and it’s mouse friend. “I still gain so much strength from their faith in me... but I see now that I need faith in myself, my own abilities, to really succeed at being my own kind of keyblade wielder... Thank you for that, both of you.” Dumbo wiggled his ears, elated to have helped as she had also helped them so much. “Now, let’s make sure your mother’s okay.” Dumbo jumped around in a cycle, full of glee at that idea, and took off as the little mouse gripped it’s hat, ran in the air a moment, before darting after him.

“Heheh... Well, I be done seen about everything.” She laughed to herself, and for a second, her heart took her to a moment long ago lived... where Sora and Riku were laughing beside her on the dock back in Destiny Island. Riku swung a hand into Sora’s face and he tried to fight back, causing the two to tumble into the sea...

“Sora... Riku...” She gripped her heart again, “...I will join you, once I’m ready. You don’t have to worry about this world anymore... I’ve got it covered.” She nodded with a sincere wish that they could trust her with this task, and continued her journey to find the mysterious force causing so much problems.

In Lady and the Tramp, she followed a puppy with a dog muzzle on it’s mouth. Later, she helped a stray into the zoo to help follow the other dog, and watched as the two seemed to have gotten separated by the dark-influencer. They seemed to be asking her to help them escape the dog-catcher, and did so.

“These... interesting dogs... are mine, sir!” she stood between him and the two, what appeared to be in love, dogs as the dog-catcher waddled his way up to her in a goofy manner. She stood her ground though, as he commented back, “Their be laws in this fine city, Miss! Put a collar and leash’em! Or they’re heading straight to the pound!” He wiggled his finger up above her, but Kairi just sweetly nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmph!” He stomped away, and Kairi narrowed her eyes and turned to whisper back at the dogs.

“I’ve faced scarier things than him!” She joked, as the dogs yipped in thanks. “Now, you two should get out of here... I don’t know if you belong to anyone... but I can see now that you belong with each other.”

They both snuggled up in their iconic hug, and looked back to Kairi. “What a fine lady you have there.” Kairi smiled, remembering how she had offered Kairi her paw in greeting.

Lady barked with approval. “Oh? Is that... That’s your name, right?” She nodded, “I could feel it... in my heart.” She looked to the other dog. “Keep her out of trouble... ya here?”

Tramp also barked in agreement.

“...Take care of each other...” As they took off, Kairi couldn’t help but think of Sora. “...I’ll keep you safe... Sora.” She decided this world still had a mystery to solve, and continued on.

Later, She found that a Lion knew Sora, and that his daughter had gone missing. Stopping some feuding prides, she learned a valuable lesson about not judging by one’s past... She may had been sent to Destiny Island against her will, used for a terrible fate in summoning the true Kingdom Hearts, “But love find’s a way!” She knew that to be true, “And I’ll find my way!” She prepared to fight the Lioness of the Shadow lands, and finally met the misty dark presence...

“Who are you? Why are you causing so much chaos in these worlds?” She demanded to know, but it took off, and she hurriedly followed it in the gummi ship.

Pocahontas had the last key she needed to fully unlock her true potential. The dark influencer was giving strength to the fear in both people’s hearts, and while Pocahontas raced to save the man she loved, Kairi returned to grandmother willow, asking sincerely how to help.

“Listen... with your heart... you will understand~” Grandmother Willow sang, but Kairi couldn’t just sit and mediate.

“There’s a war, Grandmother Willow! And I don’t have a compass to point my way like Pocahontas does! Please, I’m begging you, why can’t I summon my keyblade here? I must help them!”

“Let it break... upon you like... the waves upon the sand~” She kept singing, as Kairi was panting from her long journey through the woods filled with the dark-influencers presence and creations, having their contentions manifest as new dark creatures she had never seen before.

“My... heart... waves... sand?” She spoke through her heavy breathing, and taking a deep breath to try and calm herself, she looked within...

Her heart seemed to open up, and she was standing before Sora... upon the stainglass of her story.

“I don’t understand,” She admitted, gesturing to him while his face looked sorrowful at her plight. “I know you can’t answer me... but you can hear me, right?” she was holding back tears, and then... withdrew her hand to crunch her torso in and shake her angered fist. “I don’t know how I lost the power to summon my keyblade... I don’t understand why! In such a critical moment where I’m needed... it’s never been this bad in the other worlds, I’ve always found some sort of solution, but the settlers won’t listen to me! I don’t have Kiara to help me reason with them, and faith in myself isn’t going to help John Smith escape execution! They’re all too afraid of each other for me to get through to them over bravery alone! I don’t know... I don’t know what to do!” She gripped her head, still struggling to not cry.

“Sora... how have you been able to go through so many worlds... face so many challenges that a keyblade can’t always solve? I don’t understand... I’ve tried everything within my power, but a man’s going to die and I can’t just sit by and watch it play out!” she fell to her knees, “Sora! Sora, just take over! I don’t know what to do anymore! They need you! Not me... I’m still too weak! I... I can’t pass my training...”

As she shook her head, she revealed the true fear that had lingered in her heart.

“I... Don’t know if I can live up to the expectations you and Riku gave to these people... to their worlds... I... I’m just me.”

Feeling a bit hopeless, she finally saw Sora’s form move.

It advanced towards her before he dropped to a knee and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“So... you’ll help me?” She looked up into his eyes.

He squinted his eyes slightly, looking into each one of hers.

“...Listen... with your heart...” she scrunched her face up to avoid crying, and placed her hand by her heart again. “And you will understand...”

The setting suddenly changed to Destiny Island, and Sora was a child...

She had gotten Riku and Sora out of the water, and began actively teasing them about not fighting so much, “If you’re real friends, you should treat each other with a lot less rough-housing! Though, it was pretty funny.”

“Give us a break, Kairi...” Sora scratched his head, looking apologetic.

“It’s a boy thing.” Riku hooked his arm around Sora’s head, and pulled him over to him as Sora struggled.

“R-right... hey, Riku!”

Kairi giggled, “I guess... if you really fought, I’d have to pull you out before you drowned yourself.” She knew they had a rivalry, but put her hands behind her back. “Alright, that does it!”

The two boys looked to her new declaration, seeing as her voice had pepped up quite a bit.

“From now on, I’ll make sure you two don’t fight..! Or bicker behind my back...” She grinned then, “Cause you’re not gonna leave my sights!”

“H-hey!” The two didn’t really complain, but they refused to rough-house since she would intersect herself, saying that if they were gonna fight, they’d have to contend with her too.

“...I’m...” Kairi opened her eyes, looking up at Grandmother Willow. “I’ve always been a mediator... I’m not meant to just be a fighter!”

“Go, my child! Your course is set, and the compass of your heart spins and guides you!” The wind rustled by fiercely and Kairi felt a surge of power come upon her.

She turned as the large sails of the mistaken clouds of the sky lightly glided behind her.

“You know your path, now, Kairi! Take it!” Leaves of differing color spun around Kairi as her hair beat against the wind, the light sparkles suddenly trailed down her arm with the leaves and Kairi summoned a different keyblade...

She raced through the forest, and as Pocahontas cried out, “Stop!” She threw her keyblade up to the chief’s staff.

He was a powerful man, and for a moment, Kairi saw in her mind’s eye the glitching reality of Xenanort, then back to the chief.

She continued to strain, letting Pocahontas speak, and hearing for the first time... the words that no one uttered, but that were meant by their hearts.

She spoke them after her, and from what she learned at Pride Rock, taught the same lessons. “We are one... all of us!”

She knew what Simba had meant when he sang to Kiara now... and what Kiara learned after her journey. “Can I also... trust in my own heart?” She felt Sora’s light, and knew that she could.

“Can you trust yours?” Kairi lowered her keyblade... and the chief looked settled. “We don’t need to fight.”

However, she did finally confront the Dark-Influencer, realizing he was the lingering will of the dark-side of Kingdom Hearts...

“You... You just aren’t completed. But your hatred... all the loathing of the heart, it’s insecurities that we all felt during that battle at the keyblade graveyard...” she took a deep breath, “Now, I will set free those awful feelings... and the last of the lingering feelings we’ve had then... will finally come to an end!”

She fought with everything she had, as it morphed and changed into many of the silhouettes of her friends, their fear that she thought Sora had defeated... but it was exactly Sora’s lingering heart within her that had guided her to the Dark-Influencer.

As she fought it, it would shift at intervals between her friends and allies, even the foes and their lingering spites or sorrows... but then...

After defeating the dark silhouette of Master Aqua, the dark silhouette transformed into a figure looking like Sora...

It staggered, before regaining slowly itself into a powerful stance.

It swiped out the kingdom blade and began powering up.

“Sora... this is it, isn’t it?” She saw a light begin to shine from her heart. “You trust me and only me to defeat the last of your fear from this world... the last thing holding everyone back from living at peace again, right?”

She also threw her new keyblade up to the sky, then slowly lowered it to have a crown appear below her.

“Sora... if I can... please... lend me your strength!” she felt a surge of power, light shining from the crown as the shooting star spiraled down to the crown and filled it with magnificent power, granting a keyhole to appear.

“Ah..!” not sure what it was, but knowing it was going to temporarily grant her some help, she trusted that if she unlocked this... Sora might be given a second chance to aid her. She stepped back, flying slightly in an arch before unlocking it, having the shooting-star’s dust fly out and glitter against a new form...

A light-figure of Sora slowly arose from a kneeling position... the same that he had when she was in her heart... he reached up and grabbed her hand to help her glide back down safely...

“Sora..?” She held his hand a moment... and it squeezed it.

She nodded to it, not knowing quite how this magic worked, but knowing she could fight with him against this powerful foe just like beforehand... when he had gathered the petals of her crystal lotus heart and they fought the greatest evil together.

This... was truly like before, but the foe was now their own emotions... having gathered under Kingdom Hearts... and having the last of it’s power leak life into them...

She looked to the dark figure, “You’re no longer a part of us!” she swiped her hand out, as the Lighted Sora silhouette got into battle position, letting go of her hand as a one-sided wing appeared on both their shoulders, matching the other.

“I will act as the light from my friends! This is where Kingdom Hearts ends, for good!”

With their hearts as one... they beated the lighted wings once behind them to propel them forward, holding their keyblades back to attack the last of the darkness that still plagued this world...

Like the fight between the nobodies, darkness, and her friends, the light... she would not let this end... with savage emotions.

#sokai #sokai prompt #kairi prompt #melody of memory #kh spoilers #cutegirlmayra #sora and kairi #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts melody of memory #kh #khmom #kingdom hearts prompt

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

in aeternum, little lamb

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Word count: 4756

Prompt: “Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

———————

It was raining. Again.

Usually a rainstorm was serene and peaceful, normal for London, but there was a certain sticky humidity in the air that made going outside a chore. It was cold, yet uncomfortably warm at the same time with no wind blowing to ease the mild heat that has settled its oppressive, sultry murk over the city. It spilled into every street, every alleyway, every house that dared to open the window, thinking that it would help with the clamminess that fogged their home, but to no avail.

This, of course, brought upon complete and utter dreariness that coated every person making their rounds through their daily lives.

Anne’s forehead was dotted with beads of sweat by the time she arrived at the theater, only then really regretting her decision to walk to work. She hadn’t been expecting the humidity to be that bad, but here she was, feeling like she was leaking steam from every pore.

“God, this weather is miserable,” Jane was grumbling in her dressing room when Anne peeked in. She was currently attempting to tame her wild blonde hair (and losing the battle), which had a small (read as: large, high, anything but small) tendency to frizz up in high vaporous atmospheres like the one drenching London on that day.

“You look great, Jane.” Anne laughed, leaning on the doorframe. She gets a piercing grey glower shot in her direction, but isn’t phased by it. The coldness of the stare almost eased her internal temperature.

“Why is it so damn humid?” Jane finally exclaimed. “We live in London! Not Florida or whatever the fuck it’s called—”

Anne bit both lips, trying to hold back her laughter at the proper fit the queen before her was throwing.

“It’s supposed to be rainy and cold. Not rainy and a LITERAL SAUNA!”

Kitty, who was sitting nearby at her own makeup table, giggled softly. She got up and picked up a brush to help with her mother’s wild hair, which was definitely puffing up as if she were an angry cat or a distressed Studio Ghibli character.

“I don’t know, Jane,” Anne laughed slightly. “Well, I’m going to go get a cup of coffee. You two need anything?”

“Yeah,” Jane said. “A word with Mother Nature.”

Anne laughed again, waved a hand, and walked off to the break room.

Well- it wasn’t really a break room, per se. Theaters didn’t really have those. It was just an extra dressing room that nobody used and had a microwave, mini fridge, and coffee machine inside. In some way or another, a round bar table, small couch, and two beanbags ended up inside- Anne couldn’t really remember how they got there, but they were there and, thus, the room became a nice place to chat and relax when nothing was going on. Kitty had once even hid under the twin beanbags during a game of hide-and-seek (which was also her idea).

Upon stepping inside the break room, the scent of coffee bombarded Anne’s nose. The coffee machine was still on, but little was left in the pot. She walks over to it, thinking it was enough to sate her- she didn’t really like coffee, but she needed the extra rush to help her combat the dreariness the weather was inflicting upon her.

“Sorry,” A voice from behind suddenly said. “If I had known you wanted some, I would have made more.”

Anne actually jumped and she whirled around to see none other than the music director sitting in one of the beanbags. She jumped, too, and straightened up, nearly spilling the mug she had placed beside her pillowy seat.

“Sorry!” She said again. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Anne placed a hand over her racing heart and waved the other dismissively, laughing.

“It’s alright!” She assured the girl. “I didn’t see you at all!”

Joan smiled slightly, humoring her comment, then slumped back over to continue reading the book she had in her lap.

Anne studies her for a moment- as everyone said, Joan wasn’t much for conversation, despite always lurking on the edges of a group discussion. It was like she wanted to join in or just talk to someone, but didn’t have the courage to do so. Perhaps she was worried about being ignored or rejected, so, instead, she just watched in silence.

Maybe that’s why a few younger stagehands who were working there for college credit started calling her the “Theater Ghost.” Anne couldn’t really deny that that title wasn’t accurate- her not noticing the girl at all just proved that it was.

“Did you drink all of this?” She asked, trying to strike up a conversation to make things less awkward. Tenseness was as thick as the humidity outside in that room.

“It’s not that big of a pot...” Joan sort of mumbled.

So, yes. She did.

Anne frowned slightly. She vaguely knew of Joan’s caffeine addiction, but never really saw it first hand. She just knew that the girl drank more coffee than everyone working on the show combined.

“I see,” Anne chuckled. “Well, alright.”

She turned around while waiting for the pot to fill to see that Joan was looking at her. However, when she noticed, Joan snapped her head back down to her book. Anne furrowed her eyebrows.

“What are you reading?”

“Huh?” Joan seemed...surprised that Anne was asking her something. “Oh, it’s just- it’s just some silly book.” She kicked her leg anxiously against the beanbag, seemingly trying to hype herself up for something. “It’s, umm- it’s called Wings of Fire.”

She brandishes the book, keeping one finger inside the pages to mark her spot. On the cover was a flying gold and black dragon with four insect wings, spines along the back, and funny little glasses on the snout (something about dragons having eyesight care and possibly dragon eye doctors stood out as silly to Anne).

“It looks good,” Anne said after inspecting the picture.

“Oh, it is!” Joan said, perking up slightly. “It’s about these ten dragon tribes and five baby dragons were supposed to be born on The Brightest Night and be the Dragonets of Destiny to stop the war between three Sandwings fighting to be queen. So they’re kept underground, but their caretakers are kinda abusive and mean. Probably because the Skywing egg was destroyed so they had to replace it with a Rainwing egg, which are supposed to be the laziest tribe and that makes Kestrel- the really mean guardian- mad. So she’s kinda a jerk to the five dragonets. But then they break out of their cave before they’re supposed to leave when they’re six, because they have to wait until they’re seven, only to be captured by the Skywing queen! And they’re forced to fight to the death and they’re almost killed because this one character, Peril, can burn everything she touches! But then it’s revealed that Clay, he’s the Mudwing, has fireproof scales! And Glory, she’s the Rainwing I was talking about, can spit venom!! Then they escape and go to the Seawing kingdom and Tsunami- the Seawing- is actually the missing Seawing princess and a statue was killing all the other eggs. Then they go to the rainforest and Glory becomes queen and Starflight goes blind in the fourth book and the end of the war happens in the fifth!!” She’s babbling about a hundred miles per minute- Anne can barely keep up. “We should- we should read it together! If you’re interested. Like a book club! Except I’m on the twelfth book right now and I don’t know how fast you can read and I just basically spoiled the entire series, hahaha...but only for the first five!! But the next arc isn’t that good if you ask me. It completely throws everything that has happened out the window and just puts new characters in a school? Which they barely even stay at! So why even make the school, Tui? And my favorite character in that segment is in a coma for, like, three of the five books in that arc!! Arc three is pretty cool, though. I like the new tribes. And Sundew is supposed to be a lesbian! With an actual girlfriend! And it’s a main plot point!!” She’s beaming now. “I just—I think you would really, really like it and, I dunno...it would be fun! I can read it aloud? N-not because I think you can’t read or anything, I just—like talking. To someone. And to make sure you don’t doze off and miss any of the really good parts! Because there are SO MANY even though Tui doesn’t seem to remember any of her world building half of the time, but—”

“Joan?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Joan’s face flashed deep crimson. She hunched her shoulders around her neck and ducked her head, almost using her book as a shield to hide herself. It seems she just realized that she had been talking the green queen’s ear off.

“Sorry,” She whispered. “I-I just thought that you wanted to...” She shook her head. Her hands clench around the sides of her book. “Nevermind.”

“Joan-”

“Your coffee is gonna get cold.”

Anne looked at the full coffee pot, then back to the girl, and then walked over to get herself a cup. She can hear Joan shifting anxiously in the beanbag behind her.

Honestly, she found the girl’s deep interest in what she was reading quite endearing, she just didn’t know how to reply to her monologue in a way that showed that she actually was interested in what she was saying.

“Maybe send me the link to the book sometime?” Anne offered while heading for the door. “Or if you have a physical copy...”

“Yeah,” Joan smiles thinly- weakly. “I have some at home. I’ll give them to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great.”

“Oh, and— Anne?”

Anne stopped right as she was walking out.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

Joan looked down shyly, shifting her legs.

“For talking to me.”

———

“She thanked me. For standing there while she was ranting about a book!”

The other queens looked rather amused by the story they were given during dinner. It wasn’t exactly the reactions Anne was hoping for- was nobody else concerned by the oddity of the situation?!

“Joan’s a...quirky kid.” Jane merely said. “She’s always been a little strange, Anne. I’m almost positive she was raised by literal street rats, so that might have something to do with it. Rats aren’t exactly much for conversation.”

Anne looked at her in shock. Of everyone to say such a thing, she hadn’t expected it to come from Jane “Protective and Loving Mom Friend” Seymour.

“Did you just—”

“Anne,” Jane sighed. “You know what I’m talking about. She worked for you! She’s just a weird kid. Kids are weird!”

“‘Weird’ is when a kid likes to watch snails go over salt and get burned, Jane. Thanking someone for listening to them talk about a book is concerning.” Anne argued.

“Cathy does it all the time.”

“Cathy doesn’t thank us!”

Anne was really getting worked up over this and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She really only got this way for Kitty or Maggie- she theorized it was those maternal instincts kicking in or just a natural protectiveness for an ex-maid in waiting.

Whatever it was, it sure seemed to be amusing to the others.

“Okay, calm down, Anne.” Cleves said, laughing slightly. “We get it, you think it’s worrying. No need to start a food fight over it.”

“I’m not going to-” Anne broke off into agitated grumbling, which caused even more giggles in reaction.

“I said thank you to Catherine when I read to her yesterday,” Cathy said.

“That’s because you were asking her opinion on a chapter you wrote!” Anne struck back. “It is NOT the same thing!”

Cathy shrugged and took a bite out of her pork chop.

“It’s nothing you should stress about, Annie.” Kitty said. “Maybe some people are just meant to be alone!”

Anne gave her a look of disbelief.

“Like Henry.” Cleves put in helpfully.

“Like Henry, yeah!”

Now, don’t get Anne wrong, she loved her little found family with the queens very much, but, at that moment, she wanted to hit all of them with the salad bowl at the center of the table as hard as she could.

Maybe not Aragon, though (unfortunately). The woman hadn’t told Anne to forget about the situation or just move on- she was thoughtfully silent, eating her dinner in reserved peace. Whatever her opinion on the argument was, she didn’t say it.

Anne sighed, putting her head in one hand as she picked at her dinner until Aragon finally spoke up to tell her to get her elbow off the table. She begrudgingly obeys.

Like that, the conversation is dropped and something new, something Anne really didn’t care about was talked about.

After dinner, Anne decided to do some snooping on her laptop. First, she looked up historical information on Joan, only to find nothing. Every website was just the same thing over and over again- literally. It was just copied and pasted from the extremely short and vague Wikipedia page on the girl. The names of her parents weren’t even recorded, nor was any childhood information. There was barely even anything on her time as a lady in waiting, which only covered her work under Jane and not either of the cousins.

She had a son named Hercules, though. If that meant anything.

Next, Anne went to Joan’s Instagram page. It had several hundred followers, mainly from the fans who insisted on following everyone associated with the show, and was filled with the normal posts the actors usually had- although there were very few compared to the queen’s and other ladies in waiting’s accounts. Most of the photos were of her work or her playing the songs on her piano or of selfies of her in the band costume.

In almost all of them, she was completely alone.

Anne searched for something- she didn’t know what exactly, just something- in the seventh-five posts on the account, then went to the photos Joan was tagged in. There weren’t many- just group photos and a few good shots of her from a MegaSix and a single appreciation post (she vaguely remembered Joan telling them about it and how giddy it had made her...nobody had really listened to the babbling at the time).

And then Anne found a certain photo- the first one she was ever tagged in: it was a photo of her costume laid out on a table with the caption, “Here’s the lady in waiting costume! I’ll be posting about SIX more on my other account, so follow if you’re interested!”

The name of the account was @force-be-with-ewe.

Anne clicked on it.

force-be-with-ewe

i just really like drawing sheep

Johanna-She/her-Asexual lesbian-Musician and artist

That’s the first thing Anne saw when she clicked on the account, along with an adorable profile picture of a sheep playing a piano, then the whopping twelve followers (most of which were ghosts or bots) and three hundred and nine posts.

It took Anne just a moment to realize that this was Joan’s personal account.

And she went through all of it.

The profile was a mishmash of drawings and piano videos and sheep. The latest post was actually a photo of a bird with a caption talking about how the little guy had been visiting Joan’s bedroom window every morning and “giving her a reason to get up because she had someone looking forward to seeing her.” She maturely and proudly dubbed the bird “Minecraft.”

After that were drawings of dragons with #wingsoffire and #wof in the descriptions, leading Anne to believe that they were characters from the book she had been told about earlier that day.

And they just kept going.

Among videos of Joan playing the theater keyboard when presumably nobody was around, were drawings of sheep playing various instruments and sleeping and being adorable, drawings of more dragons, drawings of a few Pokémon (mainly Snom, Wooloo, and Sobble). There were stunning drawings of giant creatures from a game called “Subnautica” and beautiful drawings of castles and scenery. There were even drawings of the queens!

Usually fans would tag them in art, but it appeared that Joan was too shy to do that. So, instead, she just left them floating in her profile with no ways to see the masterpieces, since there weren’t any hashtags on those.

Anne was genuinely amazed by the attention to detail in the sketches of her and her fellow queens and even more amazed by the drawings with watercolors. She swore the painting’s eyes had more color than her own and the costume was as vibrant as the actual one in real life.

It was beautiful. They were all beautiful.

Why didn’t Joan want anyone seeing these?

Anne kept scrolling and eventually came upon rather...concerning posts.

The first was of a messy, but haunting colored pencil sketch of a pitch black ram with inky, bleeding red eyes that seemed to stare through the screen and directly into Anne’s soul. The caption simply said, “Black Philip.”

Another was a drawing of a blonde girl, presumably Joan, leaking coffee from every single orifice on her face and was drawn with such detail that it would easily make an emetophobic’s stoamch churn with nausea.

And then there were a few of an ice dragon, slightly similar to one of the dragon tribes from the book, but this one notably had more icicle spikes, frayed scales, and jagged wings. It was moon silver in color with ice blue hues and eyes like a raging blizzard.

All the drawings done with this beast, which was apparently named “Killer Frost” (and has no ties to the Flash character of the same name), were normal- just it laying around, flying, standing atop icebergs menacingly or breathing a freezing death breath. But there were a few that stood out to Anne as worrying.

The first was of Kitty, actually. She was wearing her show costume and her eyes were closed with a peaceful expression on her face. And then there was the glittering paw of the ice dragon reaching down from the top of the image and cupping one of her cheeks with its serrated, barbed claws. The caption read, “The Chosen One.”

The second and much more concerning drawing was captioned, “Envy truly is a deadly sin.”

It was a drawing of Killer Frost crouched in a feral position, staring forward with blazing eyes, jaw hanging open and teeth bared, absolutely soaked in blood.

There was just blood everywhere. Blood on the body, blood on the claws, blood dripping in horrifying realistic threads from the mouth, blood all over the blank, white floor beneath the beast, blood squirting from the remains of the carcasses that had presumably been gored.

The image left Anne with so many questions- What did this represent? Who were those corpses? Was Joan jealous? And if yes, who was she jealous of?

One thing was certain, though- Joan was startlingly good at drawing gore. A sketch of Killer Frost holding its own gooey, bloody esophagus and larynx in another photo just proved that. There was even one of the dragon ripping its own throat out while the faint outline of what appeared to be three ghosts encouraged it.

It was strange to see such mishmashes of horror shoved in between adorable sketches of sleeping baby lambs and fluffy Wooloos. It also left Anne with growing worry for the artist.

When she finally finished going through the profile, Anne decided the follow the account and became the thirteenth follower.

This time, thirteen would not be an unlucky number.

———

Five books were left on Anne’s dressing room table the next day, all with a colorful dragon on the cover, and a note that read, “I didn’t know if you only wanted one book or all of them, so I just left the first arc. Let me know what you think! :) -Joan”

“Fan mail?” Cleves asked, peeking over to the table from where she was getting ready.

“Nah,” Anne replied. “Just some books.”

“Sounds very cool,” Cleves chuckled before returning to dousing her hair with hairspray.

“Extremely.” Anne said, then set out to find and talk to Joan before the show. She could get her hair and makeup done later!

Except she couldn’t find the girl anywhere. She asked around, but nobody knew where she went. And she was definitely there because Anne saw her onstage right before the performance, but, by then, it was too late to speak to her. Anne just decided to see her afterwards, which was easier said than done because, once again, Joan was nowhere in sight.

Anne was about to give up, since it was almost time to leave, but then she spotted the girl in the break room playing a card game by herself at the round bar table. She considered charging in and barking at her about where she’s been, but she didn’t want to freak her out, so she just walked in calmly.

“Hey, Joan,” She said cooly, noticing the way the music director’s hand froze as she was setting down a card. She grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge and sat down at the chair across from Joan. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just...playing a card game my brother taught me.” The girl replied meekly.

Joan had a brother? The articles on her said nothing about him...

“You had cards back then?” Anne asked, as if she hadn’t been born in the same time period.

“No, we used strips of wood we would tear off from people’s houses and carved symbols on them with knives.”

Anne blinked.

“...Oh. That’s...”

“Concerning?” Joan finally glanced up from her deck of cards to look at Anne. A ghost of a smile graced her lips for a moment before she tilted her head back down with a light laugh. “I know.”

“Mind if I play?”

She’s glanced at again- scanned, as if Joan was expecting her to pull something and make a joke out of her. But then she gave in and began collecting the cards from how they’re laid out on the table.

“This game is too complicated to explain,” She said. “But we can play Speed?”

After a quick rundown of the rules, Anne agreed and the game began.

And honestly? It was great. Joan genuinely laughed and smiled as they playfully bickered and argued over the card game. She almost looked like a happy little lamb frolicking in a field of flowers.

On their third round, Kitty peeks into the break room.

“There you are, Annie!” She said. “I was looking for you!”

“Oh, hey, Kit!” Anne said. Out of the corner of her eye, she definitely saw Joan clench her jaw. The drawing of Kitty and Killer Frost’s claws and then the bloody sketch briefly flashed in her mind. “What’s up?”

“We’re leaving,” Kitty informed. “We had dinner plans tonight, remember?”

Joan sighed softly and began to pick up the cards. Anne gently pressed her hand down.

“I think I’m going to pass tonight, Kit.”

Both blondes looked shocked- Joan more than Kitty from the way her head whipped up fast enough to give her whiplash.

“How come?” Kitty asked, clearly confused. “I thought you really wanted to go to this pub...”

“I know, but I’m hanging out with Joan right now.” Anne said. “Just bring me home something if you can!”

Kitty blinked several times, glanced at Joan, then nodded and walked out.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Joan whispered.

“I wanted to, though.” Anne assured her. She gently took the deck of cards from Joan’s clenched hands and began dealing them out. “Wanna keep playing Speed or try War? I’ve played with Aragon before. I swear, she ALMOST broke my nose in anger!”

“You followed me last night.”

Anne blinked.

“Yeah, of course,” She said. “I had no idea you could draw so well. You’re very talented.”

A hot pink blush dusts Joan’s cheeks and she looked away. She anxiously plays with the corner of an ace of spades. The slight drizzle that had been tapping on the window starts to pick up.

“I-”

She’s embarrassed, Anne realized. Embarrassed and horrified because she knows Anne saw the gruesome drawings she had made.

She believes that Anne thinks she’s sick. Or a freak. Or a monster.

Anne would admit that they’re a little weird, but a lot of artists liked to make horrific art. Nothing wrong with that, especially if they were vents.

“Joan-”

“Why are you doing this?” Joan asked quietly. She looked up and centuries worth of loneliness and neglect and pain reflect in her stormy grey eyes. “What do you want?”

Finally, Anne understood.

“Look,” Anne said. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.”

Joan froze. She just stared at Anne in shock for a long time before tears fill her eyes and start to run down her cheeks. She tries to stop them, but it’s clear she’s been bottling this all up for a long time and won’t be able to hold it back any longer.

“Y-you want to be my friend?” Joan whispered.

“Yes, Joan.” Anne answered her honestly, not missing a beat. “You deserve someone who cares about you.”

The most heartbreaking whimper Anne has ever heard strangled itself out of Joan’s throat. The tears start to come down faster.

“N-nobody— Nobody has ever w-wanted to—”

“Oh, Joan...”

Anne quickly got out of her chair and walked around to Joan’s side of the table. She wrapped her arms around the girl and she immediately slumped into her embrace, clinging back like Anne was her life line.

“Oh, Joan,” Anne said again. “Oh, you poor, sweet little thing...”

Joan began to openly sob against her shoulder. Her hands claw at the back of Anne’s shirt, desperate for a good hold.

“I’ve- I’ve been alone f-for so long—” She wept.

“Shh, shh,” Anne hushed her. She began to rub her back soothingly. “I’ve got you now, honey. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

That elicits a sharp whimper from Joan, who burrows herself even closer to the queen’s warmth. And she stays like that, half slid out of her stool, clutching onto Anne Boleyn like her life depended on it until she was able to choke back the rest of her tears.

“Feeling any better?” Anne asked. She was still rubbing Joan’s back, as the girl had yet to pull back from the embrace.

Joan shrugged weakly. “A-little.” She croaked. “N-not...not good. But better. B-because you’re here.”

Anne’s heart simultaneously broke and melted.

“You sweet girl,” She said lovingly. “I want to be here for you from now on. Is that alright?”

Joan nodded. “Please...”

“Alright,” Anne said. She gently pressed Joan back and gave her her water bottle, which she never actually opened. “Drink something for me, sweetheart.”

Joan obeyed and took a few small sips of the water. It soothed her dry throat, which was weak from the outpour of emotions.

“Good girl,” Anne said encouragingly. “Hey, here’s an idea! Why don’t we go back to my house and watch a movie? I know there’s a tray of lasagna we could heat up! If you want to, that is.”

“N-no, that’s-” Joan sniffled. “I would really, really like that...”

Anne smiled warmly at her.

“Wonderful.”

———

When the other queens came home later that evening, none of them were expecting to see Anne sitting on the couch with the music director’s head in her lap, but that’s the sight they were greeted to.

They both looked content, Anne with a loving smile on her lips and Joan with a peaceful expression settled on her face as she slept. One of Anne’s hands was stroking through Joan’s hair and the other was holding a book, which she looked up from when the front door opened.

“Hey, ladies,” She said, momentarily setting down Wings of Fire- The Dragonet Prophecy. “How was dinner?”

———

A day later, Anne got a notification on her phone saying that @force-be-with-ewe had posted. When she checks it, she sees a digital drawing of Killer Frost being nuzzled lovingly by a large, emerald green dragon.

The caption simply reads, “Thank you for giving me a chance”

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #anne boleyn #jane seymour #katherine howard #joan on the keys #anna of cleves #catherine parr #catherine of aragon #nana boleyn #in aeternum little lamb

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mrsmess · 3 years

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Faves and fails of SPN (season 15, finally):

Favorite episodes (in chronological order):

15:4 Atomic Monsters - Demon!Sam flashbacks! Dean in a beard! Some old fashioned banter! Meatman! Beaverdale! Love how Sam starts arguing w the parents in the parking lot - Me too, Sam, me too. Loving the self-aware monster. I know Becky is problematique™, but I dig her, so, all kinds of fuck Chuck. He must die, and when he does this is the episode I’ll think about.

15:6 Golden Time - Badass protection spells. Dean in a robe and a hot dog pyjamas. Cas going by Clarence. Jogging Sam. Eileen! God I ship her and Sam, and I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you that I don’t ship him w anyone. Liking this ep a lot, every little side plot. Nice. And Eileen is back and I know it won’t last but like, that was awesome.

15:10 The Heroes’ Journey - Pretty neat intro. Monster on monster violence to the sound of Clair the Lune. Oh, and excellent casting of Garth’s kids. Regular people trouble... Awesome! Brilliant! This is the kind of meta storylines this show should deal in, exclusively. Oh my Garth! Explosives! Why isn’t every episode like this?

15:11 The Gamblers - Oh, is this another lucky coin episode? In that case yes please! More inconsequential bullshit kindly! Loving Sam staying in touch w Eileen. Hey guys, remember when you did the gambling thing w your years? And the rabbit’s foot? Good times. Will this be an equally good time? I hope so. A god! Excellent. ”Lady, I’m Tolstoy.” Yeah ya are, and i’m dead. The guys and Fortuna bashing god. And I'm equally delighted and distraught over the lore that god created man, man imagined gods and god decided to create the other gods to play into man’s ideas, or as a distraction.

15:13 Destiny’s Child - Omg the intro! Savage garden! I’m dead. Jack w the sandwich, why is that so funny? Cas is a gem this episode! ”’Sexually intimate’?” Lol. That’s what you get for trying to speak plainly, Cas! Hunter Corp. I’m dead, again. Keep the different Deans and Sams coming! I’m digging this! Why would they send ‘em to Rio? They could be your buffy-bots!

15:14 Last Holiday - Weird people popping up in the hq is awesome. And Dean’s immediate instinct to yell for Sam reminds me of me calling mr mess for everything! ”Shouldnt you be in the woods? Nymfing?” Monster radar? Oh, oh this is excellent. So mrs Butters is capable of murder when home and family are threatened, good for her. They better not kill her. I can accept them returning her to the wild. Yes! Did I call it or did I call it? Good Supernatural, good boy! And Dean making a cake for Jack! My heart.

Fail episodes (in chronological order):

15:2 Raising Hell - Rowena! Instant win. Ketch. Instant lose. Ketch undressing Rowena with his eyes = rating plummeting. Jeez. A bit dangerous even joking about the GoT finale, don’t you think? Rowena and Ketch full on flirting... this is hell, I'm being punished.

15:3 The Rupture - Don’t call him god! His name is Sucky-Chucky. The shock of Cas! “You’ve been playing us the whole time!” This is how it works Cas, where have you been? They're always solving problems like Jason Mendoza. In-Dean-angry-voice: “Anytime I had a problem and I threw a Molotov cocktail, boom! Right away, I had a different problem.” Rowena! And Sam! No!

15:5 Proverbs 17:3 - Listen, spn, it’s your last season and if you like just wanna stop writing and casting women completely rn i won't stop you or hold it against you (also why are these ladies identical?). We’ve had a terrible run but lets just let bygones be bygones.

15:8 Our father, who aren’t in heaven - Gosh, having Eileen in the show is painful, I’m just constantly expecting a piano to fall on her head. *Ugh* Sucky-yucky-Chucky. But hey, at least everybody else looks better alongside him. Case and point: I never rly cared that much for Donatello, but it’s great to see him, and Michael’s back, sure is nice to see him too.

15:9 The trap - Ugh. Main plot shit and Sucky-yucky-fucking-Chucky. Fail. Although the flashforward to jan 6th 2021 was a hoot (but probably not meant like one, huh?) Dean’s monologue in purgatory though... gosh. This show would be nothing w/o Jensen Ackles. Omg the kiss! Nice. However, the show at this point has lost the ability to offer any sort of pleasure. Because like Sam, we know which way this will go. They used to have some hedonism working for the characters but now they don’t even have that.

15:20 Carry on - You know what? I’m not gonna make this post longer than it already is talking about the last episode of Supernatural, that has been done better by people w real grievances w the show. The kindest thing you can say about the finale is that it just as well could’ve been jammed into a few extra minutes added to the previous episode.

Mediocre mentions:

Drag me away (from you) - what is this ugly cell interface? The opposite of product placement. Yay! Retro episode! And they got the same actor to play Dean, neato! Dean admitting he had a hard time handling hunting, that always gets me. Woah! That scream effect without reverb was kinda startling. And the camera zooming in on the little porcelain clown even though Sam is nowhere n- oh shit. This was an interesting episode

Inherit the earth - Goooood I hate Chucky. Barefoot Sam is okay though. Digging this soundtrack too. Very un-Supernatural. Nice to meet ya Betty, but I wouldn’t pull up a chair if I were you. Always a fan of the shiteating grin. Jack, stripping god of his power, that’s so hot. And again: kudos to the soundtrack! The Youngbloods and then Jackson freakin’ Browne! And you know, it’s clichéd and kinda vacant, but also kinda nice. I’m cool with the story ending like this. Why did they have to do another one? Supernatural has never known when to quit, and this is the very real backside of this.

Honorable mentions:

I don’t know who this Ardat chick is but killing Ketch puts her instantly in my win column.

Winchester-dumb, new household term.

”Feels like were taking a big, probably stupid risk. Feels good.” That made me feel good too.

I’m vastly enjoying this dark-art hippie couple in Unity and Jack’s interaction w them.

Cas launching straight into his dramatic I-will-not-let-you-end-your-own-life-speech when Sam casually mentions he’d like to talk to death in Unity, that angel has seen some things, and he has learned.

Those are some pretty pretty death effects on Jack in Despair/The Truth.

Obviously Misha Collins

Things that makes you go hmm:

Which of the clowns is this supposed to be in Back and to the Future? Because the one from season 2 was a monster, right? So he would’ve gone to purgatory. You know what? I’m not an expert. I try to not pay too much attention ’cause it makes me funny in the head. But just, y’know, a general objection.

Here’s my deal w death as a looming threat in this show: it holds no weight. And even if it did it has been painted as the ultimate relief, unless you go to hell, these characters know for a fact that there’s a potentially blissful afterlife, so their attitude towards death should be, what? More pragmatic, I think. And it’s partly why Ackles is wasted on this show; That man can deliver a death monologue like it’s nobody’s business, too bad all those words have been rendered meaningless after 15 seasons of this shit!

Summing up:

So, I did not go into or leave this season happy, I knew how it would end and I was sad for everyone the show screwed over (more than it already had). Which really meant that I always had to force myself to watch another episode, knowing what was coming. But I had to see it through. I did, so I’ll give myself a pat on the back and get to work on my own personal selection of episodes that will henceforth represent spn to me. A selection I’ll enjoy all the way through. All in all I think the most frustrating thing about the show is how it insists on taking itself so freakin’ seriously. It has always done horror *and* humor best and this whole heaven and hell aspect has never sat right w me, and in any case they should’ve leaned more on “supernatural” narrative tropes (if you will) getting out of their plot problems, gambled some more and thought a bit more outside genre conventions *especially* in their main arcs, they opened up so many opportunities that they never even used. They could’ve been more like Buffy, or Doctor Who. That said, I’ll always get that spn-itch, and when I do, I’ll be happy to have seen all the episodes so I’ll know which ones to avoid.

#supernatural #spn meta #favorite episodes #no this is not a supernatural blog #random fandom #no longer a rewatch #done w season 15 #and finally free

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mikauzoran · 4 years

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Love Square: Four-Fold Blessings: Chapter Two: Ladrien: Forehead

Four-Fold Blessings: Chapter Two: Ladrien: Forehead

Her head had been a mess all day.

She couldn’t help thinking about whether Chat Noir had confessed to the girl he liked yet. She knew it was unlikely because they’d talked less than twenty-four hours before, but…

As evening descended, she grew more and more agitated, eventually deciding to go out for a run.

“Okay, Marinette,” Tikki sighed. “But be careful running on rooftiles. They’ll be slick from the snow.”

She gave her kwami a kiss but shrugged off the warning, figuring she’d be fine in her super suit.

As it turned out, the tiles of the Agreste Mansion roof were very slick and very steep, sending her tumbling into the fortress-like backyard garden with an undignified, “Gyaaaaa—oof!”

She landed in a heap at the top of the stone steps just under Adrien’s massive wall of windows. The suit absorbed the worst of the blow, but she was still jostled and embarrassed, so she let herself lie there for a moment, meditating on her poor life choices.

“Ladybug?!” a frantic, familiar voice called up to her. “Are you okay?!”

She was on her feet in an instant, peering down over the railing at a startled Adrien in the courtyard below.

She forced a wide smile that she hoped inspired confidence. “Fine! Sorry. I’m fine. Just…lost in thought. I tripped,” she rushed to explain, knowing she sounded like a total spazz. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll be on my way now. Have a nice night, Adrien.”

“Wait!” he called out to her, reaching up as if he might stop her with the gesture.

She paused with her hand on her yoyo, cocking her head to the side, curious as to what he would say.

“Um…” Adrien hesitated, aware that what he wanted to ask would sound a little presumptuous, given that she didn’t know that he was her partner. Still, he forged ahead. “Do you need to talk about it? Whatever it was that was distracting you,” he clarified, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I know we don’t know one another super well, but I’m willing to listen if you need to get something off your chest. …Anything you say stays between the two of us, of course.”

Her hand fell from her yoyo to her side as she considered his offer, considered Adrien Agreste looking angelic in the soft glow of the streetlights filtering in from beyond the walls and bouncing off the light dusting of snow. Adrien in the Ladybug and Chat Noir pajamas that Marinette had made for him, all bundled up in his grey peacoat.

How did he always manage to look so picture perfect? The universe seemed to conspire to always give him the best lighting to show off his assets to advantage.

“Only if you want,” Adrien added nervously when Ladybug didn’t immediately respond. “Or, if you want, you can just go. You don’t have to talk to me. I just thought…”

Ladybug snapped back to attention, waving her arms to clear away the misunderstanding. “No! Sorry. I was just…thinking.” She dropped her head in shame. “I’m really sorry, Adrien. I’m kind of out of it right now. Thank you,” she stressed. “That’s a really sweet offer. I appreciate it…and maybe I do need someone to talk to.”

He smiled brightly and motioned her down the steps. “Come on down. There’s a bench where we can sit and talk.”

She nodded, hopping over the railing and landing in a crouch in front of him. She rose to her feet and opened her mouth to thank him again but froze as she registered the statue sitting on the bench in the grotto behind him. Before, it had been hidden in the deep shadows of the recess in the wall, but now she could see it more clearly.

“Is that your mother?” she whispered as if in a church.

Émilie’s life-size statue had been lovingly brushed off, and there was an indent in the snow at her feet where Adrien had been sitting, resting his head in the cold, hard lap of the image of his mother.

Adrien turned around to look, his face flushing as he realized what Ladybug must be seeing.

“Oh…uh…yeah. That’s…kind of weird, isn’t it?” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I mean, I know most people don’t build shrines to their dead loved ones like this, but…my father’s still sort of grieving. I’m still sort of grieving, and it’s not like we had a body to put in a grave, so…even though the statue is kind of weird, I’m under the impression that it’s normal to have a place to go to visit loved ones who are no longer with you. It helps to be able to come out here and talk to my mom,” he offered in defence.

“Oh, no. Definitely,” Ladybug assured, placing a supportive hand on his upper arm and giving him a bright smile. “It’s definitely normal to stay connected with your loved ones like that. Most people do it.”

The uncomfortable look faded from Adrien’s face to be replaced by a tentative smile. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s completely normal. There are some people who even do the statue thing too. I mean, rich people, but the statue of your mom isn’t as out there as you might think.”

“Oh,” he chuckled in relief. “Good. Thanks, Ladybug.”

“Sure thing.” It was at that point that she realized she’d had her hand on his arm far longer than was called for. She dropped it quickly and gave him another toothy smile.

“So.” She looked around and spotted a bench directly beneath the stair railing she’d previously been peering over. “Shall we sit down and talk about my problems?”

“Of course.” He extended an arm, showing her over to the bench. “What’s on your mind?”

She breathed out a heavy sigh as she sank down onto the bench, resting her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. “Chat Noir.”

“Ch-Chat Noir?” Adrien echoed, startled.

She nodded. “Last night he told me he’s in love with someone else, and I’m just kind of…not sad or jealous or anything. He’s a dear friend, and I want him to be happy and with someone who loves him, but…”

Adrien’s head inclined slightly in confusion. “But…?”

She sighed. “I am kind of sad and jealous and…having regrets.”

“What do you mean?” he inquired softly, not wanting to pry but…really wanting to pry.

“Things between me and Chat Noir wouldn’t work,” she explained. “We can’t date as superheroes because, if word got out, Papillon could use us against one another. It’s already bad enough with all the rumors about us supposedly being a couple, and, I mean, we do care about one another as friends, so there’s already that, but… And it’s not like we can reveal our identities to one another and date as civilians because then…” She shuddered at memories of akumatized Chat Noir from a timeline that had never been. “…reasons. So even though I could love him if I let myself, I can’t because it won’t work. Not until after Papillon is defeated, and that could be years. I can’t ask him to wait an undetermined amount of time to start a relationship.”

“He’d wait,” Adrien cut in quietly. “He would wait, you know, to be with you. He’d wait as long as it took.”

She sat up, pulling her knee into her chest as she shook her head. “He shouldn’t have to. I don’t want him to. I want him to go be happy with that other girl now. He’s so lonely, Adrien. His home life sucks, and he can’t even tell me about the particulars because we have to keep our identities safe. I’m sure talking about it a little, however vaguely, helps some, but…I’m completely useless to him.”

“No, Ladybug,” he stressed, hand going to her shoulder. “You’re not.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. Practically useless, but the point is that if he started dating this other girl, she could be there for him. She could help him where I can’t. I want him to have her, have her support and affection and-and whatever else he needs. Yes, in an ideal world, I’d kind of want him for myself, but this is reality, and the reality is that he needs someone now.”

She let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping as her forearms went to rest on her thighs.

“You really do love him,” Adrien whispered, floored by the depths of her feelings.

Ladybug nodded, chuckling ironically. “Yep. He’s my partner. He’s more than a friend or a romantic interest. He’s my other half, and I want good things for him.”

“He wants good things for you too,” Adrien assured, giving her shoulder a bolstering squeeze. “…Like a boyfriend—or girlfriend,” he suggested. “If there’s anyone you’re interested in?”

She laughed, partially amused, partially not. “I’ve had a crush on this guy I’m friends with for going on three years now.”

“Have you told him?” he asked incredulously. He had always kind of assumed that Ladybug was dating the other guy she had told him about, but now he had to wonder.

She shook her head, trying not to burst out into giggles at the irony of Adrien Agreste asking her if she’d told him yet. “Two years ago, I tried any number of times. After that, I kind of just gave up and accepted that we were just going to be friends and that, if destiny really intended us for one another, it would sort itself out. He’s a precious friend, and I’m okay with how things are right now between us. Besides, I’m kind of busy with the whole superhero/high school student/aspiring businesswoman thing. It’s okay. I mean, I would like someone, but…there’s still time for that later.”

Adrien pursed his lips, wanting to tell her that she deserved support and love right now just as much as Chat Noir did.

He gave her arm a pat then dropped his hand to the side. “If you’re sure that’s what you want…but I think you should try again with this guy. If you want someone of your own, you should have someone.”

Her lips curled into a soft genuine smile. “Thanks, Adrien. …So. What were you and your mom talking about when I so rudely came crashing down from the sky and interrupted?”

Adrien’s cheeks went red, and he laughed nervously, averting his eyes. “Oh, are we talking about me now?”

“Yep,” she chuckled. “Spill—Unless it’s personal, of course,” she hurriedly amended. “Just because I talked about my stuff, that doesn’t mean you have to talk about yours.”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured, face burning hotter. “Uh…I was actually talking to her about the girl I like.”

Ladybug’s heart tripped. “O-Oh?”

He nodded, a secretive, smitten smile spreading across his lips. “Yeah. For a long time, I liked someone else—I mean, I kind of had a crush on my friend too, but…my focus was on another girl. She was never actually into me like that, but I kept hoping things would change. A couple months ago, I realized I was being an idiot when there’s another girl I like, every bit as wonderful, who possibly is interested in me too, so…I think I finally decided that I want to ask my friend out, and I was talking it out with Mom.”

Ladybug nodded, trying (hoping) to see Marinette in Adrien’s scant description of his friend. “That’s sweet that you still include your mom in things like that.”

Adrien grimaced. “She’s actually the only one I have to talk about those kinds of things with. My father doesn’t have time for quote-unquote ‘trivial matters’ like that, and Nathalie, my father’s girlfrie—uh, assistant, isn’t the kind of person you talk to about matters of the heart. Neither is my bodyguard Victor, so…”

“Oh, Adrien,” Ladybug breathed, suddenly feeling awful that she’d never realized how isolated he was in his own home. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”

“—Don’t worry about it,” Adrien cut her off with a reassuring smile. “I’m okay. I have good friends, and I usually borrow their parents when I need them, but…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling sheepishly. “It would be kind of awkward to talk to Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng about possibly dating their daughter, so…”

It took every ounce of self-control that Ladybug possessed not to scream and jump up and down and reveal her identity to him right then and there. She physically bit her tongue, forced her lips into an appropriate smile, and chuckled at a suitable volume so that she didn’t sound insane.

“Yeah, I’d imagine that would be kind of awkward. I’m glad you have people to talk to about most things, though,” she managed to reply evenly, as if she had not just been informed that the love of her life was interested in her too.

“Yeah, I’m really lucky,” Adrien agreed with a bright smile.

Ladybug hopped to her feet before she was tempted to kiss him. “Well. I’ve taken up enough of your time. I should get going. Thank you so much for talking with me, though. It really helped getting that off my chest.”

“Uh, yeah. Any ti—” Adrien started to say, but he was cut off by Ladybug leaning in to press a quick kiss to his forehead.

“Marinette is the lucky one,” Ladybug whispered, and, then, with a wink, she was off, dashing across the rooftops once more, careful of her step as she raced home.

#Ladrien #Marichat #Adrinette #Adrienette #Lady Noir #Love Square #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Four Kisses Meme #Kissing #Writing Prompt #Mikau's Writings #Four-Fold Blessings

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thecrowsjoker · 4 years

Text

Before you read, major Persona 5 R spoilers so please just skip this if you don't want spoilers

Also please note the tags!

Please Enjoy these delicious pancakes and have a good day (spoilers below pancakes) 🥞

So Im probably putting my foot into it by saying that a relationship with Goro should have been tucked away near the end of the P5r.

And by that I mean you have to meet certain conditions.

Example list

You can't romance any of the girls

You must max out all confidents with Goro's being the last one

This will prompt Goro saying "I've noticed that your quite popular with the ladies (Last name), is there no one that catches your eye?) to which it prompts you to confess," I like Goro" or to simply just say" I'm not interested"

Option two- oh I see *disappointed sprite* game then resumes like normal.

Option One- *surprised sprite* wait, I dont quite understand

(Game prompt: this is an important decision. Your relationship with this confident might change depending on your answer)

Option 2- "I'm joking"

Goro- oh *fake smile sprite* very funny Joker

Option 1- I like you Goro, I want to be with you

Goro- *startled sprite quickly replaced by depressed sprite* why now, why after everything I've done, how can you just-

(player can move in to hold Goro or to simply listen to the rest of Goro's speech)

Uninterrupted- Goro- I hurt so many people I don't deserve this, you deserve someone who's not broken.

Prompt- I want you

Prompt--I love you

Protagonist moves in to embrace Goro

Goro- *flustered sprite* what is this feeling? *annoyed sprite with blush* damn you Joker...

(Loki and Robin Hood fuse)

Goro monlogue: I don't know if these feelings are mine or yours. But I do know that I want to fight with you till the end...

Afterwards- Akira moves closer to Goro

Goro-! Ah! Your really close...

Blackout screen

Goro- Joker... Thank you- I...

...

(you spent a long time with Goro)

Option with sudden hug

Goro-! Ah, hey your...

*sprite with clenched eyes*

Goro- how can you suddenly just bring down my walls like nothing

Prompt 1- it's because you love me

Prompt 2-...

Prompt 1- Goro- *cheerful sprite* who made you such a good detective? *wink sprite* I guess the roles are reversed now.

Prompt- Your pretty good at stealing hearts Crow

Prompt 2-...

Goro- *sigh* to think this would end like this.

Goro- *embraces Akira back* I want to choose my own destiny. The future with you... by my side.

(Loki and Robin Hood fuse)

Goros monologue- I understand now. Its not weak to rely on others, thank you.- ill use this power to shape my own destiny... Our destiny.

Goro- hey is it okay if you hold me just a little while longer?

...

You spent a long time with Akechi.

--------

Yea so I know it's a long example but this completely negates the fact that it's suddenly just an option. You'd have to jump through a few hoops in order to get with Goro. Also it gives you the option to stay single without any consequences to the story.

I know some people are against Goro x Akira and I can understand why people would be pissed if this was the only slash option.

But you got to understand that no other boy in P5 is used for gain more than Goro. His life was hell to begin with. His whole life up until he meets Akira is just built on the only emotion he knows hate.

And then comes Akira, and Goro is literally torn between hating him and wanting to be around him.

Akira brings out emotions Goro's never felt before, like flies, he tries to swat them away but they always reappear.

It shouldn't matter that they are both male.

Goro deserves to be loved and Akira very canonically loves him.

Love shouldn't just be exclusive to male and female, it should be just be accepted for what it is.

It's not for the sake of adding more options, its not celebrating diversity. People shouldnt be rewarded for just throwing scraps to an audience and give them a "maybe it's canon" because in WHAT way is it fair to add multiple girls to romance but do nothing about the actual relationship that is one of the core story points?

Goro and Akira are in love.

Akira is in love with the real Akechi Goro, not the plastic fake on TV. He's in love with the scarred boy who was used and abused for far to long.

Goro never had a forever home until he met Akira and despite the good, the bad and the ugly, Akira took Goro into his heart and gave him a home at long last.

Ps-I'm so sorry this has been such a long post but I'm just so emotionally drained with it all.

#shuake #persona 5 royal spoilers #akechi x akira #akeshu #love is love #atlus usa #goro akechi #ren amamiya #akira kusuru

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midnight-lightning · 5 years

Text

Piece of gold | Part 1

Loki x reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: You live your dream as a worker in the royal library of Asgard, everything would still be normal if there wasn't a certain prince between the bookshelves whose passion also included books. Of course destiny has decided it was time to bring you two together...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Your Mother was that kind of a woman who would give people advises about life's meaning and their place in the world when one simply asks what weather it is. Of course after a certain time you stopped thinking too deep into her words but one thing she had truly taught you. It was to always follow your passions, to do everything that full fills you, give you your own meaning of life. Well, and you did follow your passion but you're pretty sure it was not that kind of thing she would expected from her words, as you simply followed your love and passion for books.

You remembered feeling like you'd die out of nervousness on your first day. Truth to be told, it was literally only a few days ago.

Mealla was the first person to greet you and introduce you to your new job and tasks. She was working at the reception and was also the one you'd now consider as a good friend.

With a big smile you inhaled the smell of wood and old paper as you entered the library on this new morning being greeted by a very busy Mealla who only pointed on a huge stack of books on the table which waited to be sorted into the shelves. You tighten your apron, grab a few of them and walked straight into the maze of bookshelves before you.

Yeah, it'd be pointless to say that the biggest library of Asgard was, in fact, very big and being in addition the royal library it was unbelievably breathtaking. You had to admit that even after all the days you've already worked here and get tours you still haven't seen the whole library and therefore don't always take the right way.

Besides, the beauty of this place never failed to keep you from your work and sometimes you just couldn't resist and hide in some further corner to read by yourself.

As you stroll through the paths of big shelfs, desks and other seating options, sorting the books in their right places you noticed that the library was as always highly visited. Due the fact that this place was this huge you sometimes felt alone nerveless especially in rear sections as this one.

Therefore it was no wonder you nearly had a heart attack by what happened next. Around the corner sat a man on the couch, reading the book in his hand. It was nothing extraordinary so You didn't really pay attention to him. It was only when you noticed his not so ordinary clothes and these typical colours that had you spin around with a horrible thought. With a small squeak you let the last book slip out of your hands and it hit loud on the floor. This suddenly noise caused the man sitting before you to look up. Your eyes met for just the one second you needed to grab the fallen book and rush out of the situation.

Mealla could already see on your pale face that something must have happened when you suddenly appeared next to her.

"What-"

"Why! Why, just why didn't you mind telling me that of all the people living in Asgard the prince himself had to show up here?" You asked with panic in your trembling voice

But Mealles face immediately relaxed. "Oh? You mean prince Loki? He's very often here in the library," she answered nonchalantly.

"Oi, but why didn't you say anything? Now he must think I'm completely mental..." A small laugh escapes you.

He was a PRINCE after all, you work for him and you did neither greeted him properly nor paid any kind of respect to him. Instead you ran away like a wild chicken!

This was so Embarrassing.

"Y/N, I beg you to relax. You're for certain not the first one who has lost control of her fangirling emotions, he's used to things like that. Besides, he won't even remember you the next time you met, what I hope will not happen."

You snorted. "I was not fangirling! It was just the shock as I've never seen any of the royalty that- Wait, why would you hope something like that?"

Mealla suddenly stopped in her work and her expression went to a serious one. "Y/N, I hope I do not need to explain to you who Loki is. Besides his high position he's also capable of powerful arts and also many stories are being told about the prince. If you know what's good for you, you keep enough distance from him. Don't cause trouble."

Yeah, you have heard enough stories, true or false ones. But as your friend suggested you tried your best to avoid every corner in which the young prince could be.

That's also why the next days passed without any further interruptions except that one man, a high soldier, who kept demanding one certain book which was not yet available in the library. But you promised him to take care of this problem. Well, whole Asgard is preparing for the star-celebration, which also included the traditional ball. It was always the greatest event of the year for every asgardian. No wonder that even the soldiers may get a little stressed.

Right after the small incident however, you vanished deep in between the high bookshelves to your usual little corner in which you continued to read your favourite book. You knew that if someone caught you, you'd may get in trouble as it was still work for you to do. But you just couldn't stop thinking about this story, besides you still had a lot of time for your duties afterwards.

You were lost in this other world with your thoughts and heart, therefore you partly ignored partly didn't notice the person turning around the corner.

With a little confused and annoyed expression he seemed to search in the book shelves for something, when his gaze landed upon you. Usually he wouldn't give you much attention but then he noticed the book in your hands, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance.

He coughed slightly but loud enough for you to hear.

Startled you jumped up from your seat, catching the book which was already falling and started to panic. "I'm working, I swear, there was just dirt on the book I had to-" When you looked up you clasped your hand over your mouth in shock as you realised to whom you was speaking.

"Yes, I see that," said prince freaking Loki in front of you with huge sarcasm in his voice.

Please, please ground, please open and let me vanish, you thought in great shame.

In the next second you took a bow, while rattling endless kinds of apologies. "Please, forgive me, I didn't realise-"

Loki lifted his hand with a bored expression and you closed your mouth. For a second.

"Stop with your apologises."

"I'm sor-. I mean, it would be better if I continue with my work," you mumbled and wanted to pass by him as fast as you could when he stopped you again.

"I didn't waste my time by addressing myself to you. I had indeed a cause for that."

You turned around, your face burning. "Yes, of course, I beg yo-er how can I help you, my prince?"

"I was wondering if you'd know where a certain book of mine is as you're obviously working here. It's name is "piece of gold"."

Immediately you turned to the bookshelves and started searching for it, as it should be somewhere in this area. Again an annoyed cough got your attention and you noticed the prince staring at your hands, frowning.

"May it be that one?" he asked. You looked down at the book that you were reading just a few minutes ago and blushed in embarrassment.

"Oh, yes, it is indeed that one. Here."

Loki took it, but raised his brown.

"It's quite rare that I met someone who is interested in these kind of books as well," he looked nearly suprised.

You laughted quietly. "Well, if you only read books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking. Besides I just fell in love with all the characters and the story line."

Your face brightening by these thoughts, until you realised you had lost control about your emotions and now a startled expression showed up.

"I-I beg your Pardon, your highness, I shouldn't...I-I think I should go now, if you excuse me."

Only a quick bow and you were already gone, leaving Loki with an almost amused expression.

What a strange girl...

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

You didn't know what kind of a curse had fallen upon you that you've gotten in this awkward and embarrassing situations with the prince, let alone the fact that you had to come across him.

Twice.

It was later that evening, you were already back in the apartments you shared with other workers in the palace, but you still scolded yourself every time you thought about the things that had happened. It was just your first weeks of work in the library, what is the rest of your time going to be like with Loki most of the time around your beloved place, hiding in the corners.

Alright, stop it now, Y/N, no one not even the prince is going to stop your passion in any kind, besides it wasn't even that bad, you just can't look him into his eyes, like forever, but next time you just try over. If there's going to be a next time at all. You hoped not.

A knock on the door ripped you out of your thoughts. When you opened it you saw Anoria, one of your roommates.

"This had been delivered for you, or at least if this is your name...Y/N?" She gave you the small package she was holding in her hands. You thanked her, she smiled and she was gone again.

Walking to your desk, you opened the package, quite curious, and smiled as you saw a book in it.

But it was not just a book, you realised just a second later, it was the book.

As you flipped through the pages, a note slipped out.

Oh no, oh no no no no!

"It'd be a crime to rip a passioned reader out of the midst of a story, as long as still not all people are thinking alike.

Return it afterwards.

L."

Oh.

Hell.

No.

By Odin it wasn't something you'd expected from a prince, let alone from the pretty isolated Loki Odinson.

You had spent nearly the whole night afterwards finishing this book in order to give it back as soon as possible. Sadly, it was the last volume of the series and the end was pretty gloomy. You wondered what Loki thought about this Story, especially the ending, because you have yourself never met anyone who had read this book. Therefore, no matter what people say about the mysterious prince, he had a good taste with books. Well, you couldn't imagine his brother Thor sitting in peace and doing nothing but get lost in fictional stories, as he was very obviously a proud warrior, thoroughly.

Because of your lack of sleep you were naturally very tired the next day you went to work. And it wasn't even worth it, as Loki didn't show up, so you couldn't give him the book back as he had demanded. And neither did he on at the following time.

The thought that you brought him out of the library by your annoying behavior has already crossed your mind and you had promised yourself not to get in any further inappropriate situations with the prince.

It was one of the days on which you've gotten the night shift and were nearly alone in the dimmed library as you finally met him again. Well, the word "met" didn't quite fit, "bumped into" was it to be exactly, of course you had to bump into him? The universe despised you with the whole heart.

"Oh my god, I'm so SORRY."

It was the third time you've met him in a very awkward way and slowly you have gotten enough.

Fortunately it seems that no one else was in this section to be part of this dilemma.

Loki didn't even responded, instead a painfully silence arrived by his silenced staring. You bite your lips out of nervousness, before you remembered the book you was carrying in the bag all these days.

"I uh...I brought you the book." You stretched your arms with the book forward and grinned bashfully. He took it without a word but you were just too nervous to keep being quite.

"I liked it, by the way. Except for the ending. I thought he would get his happy end, he deserved it after all."

Loki browsed through the pages and said with a monotone voice: "As a library worker you should know that there can't always be a happy ending, besides he did too many mistakes in his life to be forgiven in the end. He was a horrible person and deserved everything what happened to him."

You blinked surprised. You hadn't thought he would react to your little outburst and also because you couldn't understand his statement.

"Please, forgive me, but I think everyone deserves love in his life and the woman he was in love with did actually forgive him. Besides there isn't just the romance, Altocc's life is a big content out of social pressure, he hadn't really got a choice in the end."

Loki looked at you with a very thoughtful expression. "I'm sure he didn't have to sacrifice himself, I could come up with many other ways to turn things around if I'd really wanted."

You couldn't believe what was happening right in this moment. You, a simply worker of a library, conduced a conversation with prince Loki about a book you both read and loved and now you argued about who was actually right. Normally you'd kill yourself for speaking in such ways with the royalty, but on the one hand he didn't seem to mind and on other hand you just had to defend your beloved figures of your beloved book. It was your passion after all.

That's why the nervousness seemed to fade away the more you keep talking with him.

A challenging smirk appeared on your face. "Oh, yes? Which ones?"

The next thing you knew Loki let out an actual small laugh and as it'd be arranged both of you sat down at the table across each other.

And well, the next time both of you fell in a deep and passioned discussion about the books plot, the characters, morals without really realising. The library worker and the prince, have forgotten who they are in this time, their positions and that this situation was utterly inappropriate.

You just talked about your passions, deep into the night.

It was a few hours later, that you two had slowly stopped speaking and a comfortable silenced rose up.

Then, a confused thought passed by and you didn't know why you hadn't noticed this early.

"Prince Loki, can I ask you a question?"

Loki looked up. And as your eyes met you noticed the intensive green in his one, that seemed to look right into your soul.

You cought slightly.

"How could it be that you knew to whom you should deliver the book? You wasn't aware of my name that time."

You got a pretty vain gaze back.

"Lady Y/N, be aware that I'm a prince. If I want something I get it, sooner or later."

You nodded slowly.

"Besides, your name is written on the sign of your uniform," he said and grinned a little.

An amused laugh escaped you. "Well, yes, that should do it."

Silence again.

A moment and a small smile later Loki stand up from his seat. You did also, at least something should appropriate the manners

"It was a pleasure to have these kind of conversation with someone who truly understands the book, or books in general, even though we have obviously different opinions on it." By this he winked, surprising you.

"But even a prince had to come back home to a certain time."

With this you were catapulted back to the real life, in which you were you, a simply girl, talking to a real prince to a really late time in a really lonely section.

Your good mood was vanished, before you bowed to Loki. "I wish you a good night, my prince."

"This I'm wishing you as well, Lady Y/N."

All in one it was a nightshift you'd neither had ever expected nor would ever forget.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x you #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #thor imagine #loki god of asgard #loki fic #loki god of mischief #piece of gold

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nellynee · 4 years

Text

FowlPlayAU (aka Miraculous Peacock Marinette AU)

Literally no one asked but I don’t care. An AU in which Marinette holds the Peacock Miraculous

This actually developed from a few different threads that I tugged on over the course of a few months.

I guess the starting point for this was probably the season 1 episode “Simon Says” with the very short but profound moment of understanding between Gabriel and Ladybug over the pedestal they both placed Adrien on and the subsequent really, really heavy handed comparisons everyone kept making towards everyone else about who resembled Emilie the most

Basically I thought this episode was the heaviest seed in the narrative of the parallels between Gabriel and Marinette, both fashion career focused workaholics who take way to much responsibility on their own shoulders and get obsessive to the point of destructiveness over their respective, similar love interests, and using those parallels as a point of interest in showing both Marinette's growth as she moves beyond that destructive mentality and towards regarding Adrien as a person and how Gabriel’s “love conquers all” mentality isn’t an inherently positive thing but no. *sigh* no, they needed more screen time for one time characters. It fleshes out the world,yes, but not the characters. LOTS of interesting long term threads were dropped in favor of broadening the cast to try and shoehorn that “kid superhero group” into the show that was originally tossed. Basically I’m saying that I do think Gabriel and Marinette have enough in common to surprise some people, including each other, and I’m a sucker for intergenerational friendships

The second main factor was the small subplot at the time of Gabriel suspecting Adrien of being Cat Noir. I got really interested after “Gorizilla” about what might actually happen if Gabriel did figure out that Adrien was Cat Noir at that point in the series (I have words about Cat Blanc, trust me. No those words aren’t “throw the whole mess out the window” because I actually love it. But many, many words) Going off the heavy handed implications that Emilie was the former Peacock, I thought it would be interesting, and in character, for Gabriel desperately analyze his son’s behavior as Cat Noir, trying to figure out WTF Adrien thinks he’s doing, only to realize that Cat Noir has some pretty obvious affections for Ladybug. This is unacceptable of course, but understandable in a “he’s a hormone ridden, teenage boy, and Gabriel was once too the same sort of boy in love with the same sort of heroin” sort of way. The obvious answer to getting rid of what is the only possible obstacle for his son’s cooperation (I was going off the pilot with the potential of Cat Noir as a Hawkmoth agent because of their familial connections) is to get rid of his affections, and since it has to be shallow, he’s too young and also Gabriel controls his whole life so it can’t be love, then all he has to do is shift his son’s affections. Cue an uncomfortable number of episodes in which Gabriel subtly inserts a B plot into his Akumatized villains by trying to push various girl together with his son in carefully controlled circumstances. Because this is before Kasumi, and again, those nice parallels between Marinette and Gabriel himself, he eventually after trial and error settles on Marinette as the perfect candidate. Thus, we get a series of hilarious situations in which Marinette and Adrien are pushed more and more into high pressure uncomfortable and intimate situations, losing time and ability to turn into their superhero personas as a natural deterrent to power creep and justifying the use of other Miraculous users a lot more.

I saw someone comment in one of their author’s notes on a fic a long time ago that they hated the trope of Marinette being an emotional Atlas and my instantaneous internal response that that kinda WAS Marinette's character early series, especially the origin episode, and that a lot of the most prevalent fics were written in that time period, and that really intense response from me really stuck.

Peacock aesthetic. yup, that alone gets an equal piece of the pie

So yeah, if any of that interests you, keeping in mind that on top of potential sympathy and understanding of his actions, Gabriel is still absolutly a shitty person, then the actual (canon divergent) AU is under the cut.

The actual thing diverts during Stone Heart, in which the moment Marinette decided to become Ladybug for realsies rather than try to faust it off Alya doesn’t happen. Rather than deciding to put on the earings, Marinette distracts the monster enough they can get away. Alya finds the earings, and takes up the Mantle of Ladybug.

This decidedly marks a regression in Marinette. Where as Ladybug, and with Tiki’s constant assurances and influence, Marinette learns to work past her urges to take responsibility for everyone’s emotions, Marinette has now lost that constant companion, and has to deal to with her new best friend’s time being diverted

Cut forward to “Stormy Weather” and Marinette has fallen into a vicious cycle of guilt. The little creature had told her it was her destiny to be Ladybug. And while we know that the situation with Hawkmoth is not much different than it is in canon, Marinette is totally convinced that the only reason Hawkmoth is still around hurting people is because she rejected the call. That guilt has built into a feeling of impotent inadequacy that convinces her that she’s no longer deserving of the Ladybug roll, and so she’s both unable to do anything, and responsible for Hawkmoth still being around.

The most prevalent of episode changes is Lady Wifi. It’s Marinette who’s akumatized, not Alya, and it’s a fairly traumatizing, but empowering experience for Marinette.

The ultimate culmination of this is this universe’ “Volpina” episode, where, in the background of main battle events, Marinette gains an understanding of the suspicions that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth, and in the climax of the battle, believing Adrien in danger, she confronts him, confirming his alter ego.

In a scene I have no time to actually extrapolate on, if your curious, just ask, Gabriel and Marinette come to a tentative understanding. He’ll give her the powers to protect his son, and she’ll actually have some sort of control in her life again. This akumatization takes the form of a faux Peacock Miraculous.

This marks the first half of her partnership as an antihero with Hawkmoth. (and yes, I do have the mechanics of how he can akumatized more than one person at a time without Catalyst, which will be extrapolated upon request, but this is long enough already)

Again, I wanna draw attention to those Sweet, Sweet Marinette and Gabriel parallels. Gabriel, through half truths and carefully peppered moments of emotional manipulation and practiced vulnerability, attempts to B plot Marinette into stealing the Miraculouses. Believing herself to be at least somewhat in his thrall, Marinette allows herself to empathize with his plight, and they build a surprising, if strained, raport.

After discovering that she is not, in fact, under Hawkmoth’s control Marinette rebels just long enough to have Hawkmoth take back his Akuma, and Marinette caves the next time Adrien is in Genuine Danger, stealing the real Peacock Miraculous and using it.

This marks the second half of their partnership, and Hawkmoth reveals that the miraculous is broken, and Marinette is now dying from it’s use, and that her only choice of survival is to help him make his wish. This evens out the power balance, at they both now have the same goals and powers independent of each other, but also ups ante.

That’s the most tldr general of overview, with other more specific highlights like

Ladybug!Alya having to reach her own emotional maturity, her earlier stint as a hero leaving her with a much bigger ego in terms of how she perceives her impact of the morale of the city and where her priorities lie in trying to boost that morale vs her personal needs. Ladybug!Alya tries too hard to take notes from already established heroes and public images. She still runs the Ladyblog, Spiderman style.

After quickly realizing (after some confusion) that the Ladybug he fought Stoneheart with the last time is not the same as the one he fought the first time with, Adrien gets a big old case of the pining sighs

Early series Adrien and Alya are both not the type to value secret identities, and so yes, they do reveal said identities to each other fairly early.

They also can both keep a fucking secret, so it works. They are secret BFFs

After the first time Adrien is rescued by the mysterious Peacock Holder, he figures out that whoever she is, she’s the original Ladybug, and more and more ends up distracted and drawn away from fights by her, the perfect reason for Alya to have to bring in other miraculous users. (the interactions tend to take place on moonlit balconies. There’s heavy Pilot influences here)

Marinette does this thing where she spreads her fan when she’s startled and hides her face. Mostly because Cat Noir wont stay out of it. The miraculous’ memory means she tends to fan speak a lot. Symbolism

Speaking of symbolism, the character designs are rife with them. I know exactly what Peacock Marinette looks like and there’s a reason for everything.

The subplot where (inspired by the pilot) Cat Noir finds out that there used to be a curse on the ring that could only be lifted by a kiss from Ladybug (thanks to her creation/retcon powers). Cat Noir convinces (inaccurately) himself that his destruction powers can totally do something similar with Hawkmoth’s mind control now all he needs is to kiss the Peacock user and she’ll be free! She’s totes not a bad guy!

Yes, Marinette does get a different miraculous ala being an episode helper, and her emotions are complicated about it

And other fun tidbits. This got way to long but I’m more than willing to extrapolate on anything more specific that anyone is curious about

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #peacock miraculous #mlb #peacock marinette #FowlPlayAU

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keeperofhounds · 4 years

Text

A Dragon and her Boy (Chapter One)

Thinking back on that day Varian often wondered how everything just fell into place. It wasn’t a day where every single problem he had magically disappeared. Life just doesn’t work that way. It wasn’t a day where he found some profound destiny either, that would be silly. No, it was the day Varian made a new friend.

Varian had been four years old that day when he discovered his passion for alchemy. It wasn’t something anyone Varian’s age would normally be interested in but that’s how it was for Varian. No one was interested in alchemy and other kids would rather spend their time running around in the dirt. And they called him weird.

“Come on Daddy you promised that we could go to the castle today,” Varian said, following his father Quirin around their castle. He had been looking forward to the chance to spend more time with his daddy.

Looking down at his son, Quirin felt bad at the words he replied to his son, “I’m sorry Varian, not today I need to work on running the fields.”

Varian’s face fell at the words, of course, his daddy was busy when wasn’t he? He understood really, he did his daddy had to help all the people in the village. Sometimes though he really wanted all his daddy’s attention for himself, was that too much to ask? Well, Varian could be patient it was harvest season after all.

“Okay daddy I understand,” he said, before heading outside towards the nearby forest. Maybe Varian could study some of the fauna or find some cool rocks in the forest. Varian had read a book saying that some flowers could do really cool things if he mixed them with the right stuff. The boy was getting ahead of himself though he still needed to find, well anything.

The search for anything to alleviate Varian’s disappointment was fruitless. There was nothing new or exciting that he could do to distract himself in the forest. He tried climbing the trees, but they were too tall for the four-year-old. He dug a hole with a random stick but found no buried treasure. It was just another disappointment. The boy hadn’t gotten that far since he didn’t want to get lost either.

Now Varian was swinging his stick hitting the bushes, “I wish something would just happen already it’s no fun doing things alone all the time.”

The bushes rustled behind him startling him backward. Turning around quickly to face the moving bush Varian held up his stick ready to strike. Varian hoped it wasn’t anything dangerous the very thought of hurting an animal made his stomach drop. Slowly he slid his feet towards the bushes.

“W-who ever you are I’m armed! S-so you better not mess with me!”

The bushes stopped moving at those words, Varian hoped that he was able to scare whoever was in the bushes off. Lowering his makeshift weapon Varian crept over to the bush. He leaned forward, left, right, and tip-toed to see over the bush. Nothing.

“I guess it must have been a bunny.”

Turning his back towards the bush Varian started to walk away. That’s when the creature hiding in the bushes pounced.

If Quirin had been in the range of his son, the sound of his terrified screaming would have caused the father to drop everything. This wasn’t the case when Varian fell to the ground all he wanted was his daddy to save him from whatever jumped him. The thing was still on his back keeping him on the ground. All he could do was throw his hands over his head and covered it in an attempt to prevent any harm.

Varian couldn’t help but feel his eyes start to mist over. He tried to keep it together he was brave, and he was a big boy. Yet he was so upset that he couldn’t help crying failing to notice that the creature on him was doing nothing to harm him.

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When the little dragon snuck away from the Hidden World, she was excited. She had grown up hearing stories of her father the King’s adventures. The adventures he went on with the funny human creatures who visit every year. It’s always exciting to listen about the forbidden friendship.

Her mother had different views of the human creatures telling stories of their cruelty and dangers. That wasn’t to say that the views of those creatures were dominant. As the King taught to her brothers and herself there are good and bad among everyone, Humans just happen to think they know best about the world around them.

Be wary of them he warned especially ones you have never met before. He was also clear that you can see their intentions through their eyes. Whatever that meant.

“You would have to meet one and become friends with them to understand.”

She wanted to know what he meant, especially the part of those creatures giving them a name. Mother didn’t have one, but she didn’t look like she was wanting but her father and his friends kept these names close to their hearts as they reminded them of the people they left behind. That was why she convinced her brothers to sneak out with her that winter day.

The little dragon learned a lot that day, they saw so many humans. They saw their father's friend fall off a cliff and got grounded when they came home. Not that such a little set back was going to stop her.

This time she decided to ditch her brothers during their usual adventure time at home.

Looking at the forest and many different creatures in the area was an experience. They were nothing like the ones at home nothing glowing and everything else was not a dragon. That wasn’t what she was here for though she wanted to see a human settlement.

Which is how she found herself on the young humans back. She had assumed that by pouncing him as she did with her brothers the creature might play with her. Now he was making strange noises, but she could at least recognize a cry of fear.

Jumping off the humans back the young dragon walked over to his covered face. Looking at his scarred face was not what she wanted, she just wanted to have some fun with a human-like her father used too.

“I’m sorry,” she said, nudging her head against his head.

Finally feeling the weight of the creature off his back, Varian slowly took his hands off his head. He gasped, “A dragon, wow.”

Varian scooted away in shock; he had never seen a dragon before. Taking a deep breath, he leaned toward the dragon turning his head sideways. The dragon did the same, Varian couldn’t help but think it was very cute. Only she also turned her snout up in a gummy smile.

“You’re toothless!” Varian laughed, pointing at the black and white dragon.

The dragon growled happily, “That’s the name my dad likes!”

Not that Varian could understand her all he heard from the dragon were happy growls. He saw the dragon jump around similar to a dog wanting attention. The dragon wasn’t scary, she looked like she just wanted to play.

“Do you wanna play?”

The dragon wagged her tail communicating to him that that’s exactly what she wanted. Picking up the discarded stick he shook at the dragon. “You want the stick? You want the stick?”

He threw the stick, but the dragon didn’t go after it instead tilting her head in a way that asked, ‘what was he doing?’ Varian blushed looks like she didn’t want to play fetch.

“So, what do you want to play?” he asked, wringing his hands against his stomach.

That’s how they spent the next few hours playing with each other. The dragon chased Varian and Varian chased the dragon in the game of tag. Racing through the woods Varian chased the dragon tripping against a store falling on his face.

Seeing Varian fall the dragon flew towards her new-fallen friend, “Are you okay?”

Varian jumped on his feet, “Boo!”

The dragon screamed laughing as she dashed away from Varians ‘surprise’ attack. She had been so focused on Varian she didn’t notice the mass of meat that was in the way. Pawing at her head when she fell to the ground she looked up and was met with the green eyes of her father.

“I'm a catch you…” Looking at the black scaled dragon Varian looking up at his regal appearance slowing to a stop. “Wow.”

He turned to the little dragon, “Is that your daddy?”

The older dragon narrowed his eyes at her message was clear, “Home now.”

“Varian! Varian, it’s time to come home!” Quirin called from the distance.

“That’s my daddy. I have to go.” Varian said, rushing over and giving her a hug, “I liked playing with you I hope we can play again.” He gave a kiss on her head. “Bye Delmira!”

Varian dashed away towards his home leaving Delmira alone with her father. Looking at her father Delmira gave him a toothless grin. Toothless snorted, “Don’t think you’re not getting grounded.”

Delmira groaned following after her father as he flew away. Even though she knew she was going to get grounded thinking about the fun she had today it was worth it.

“I like Delmira,” She told her father.

#varian #tts fandom #fanfic #my stories #my fanfiction #httyd fandom #fusion #A Dragon and Her boy

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luckyspike · 5 years

Text

more GO fanfic because i can’t decide which colors of yarn to use for my next project

Crowley made it a point to visit Adam semi-regularly, about monthly, after the Nah-pocalypse. He justified it to himself by telling himself it was because he was making sure the kid kept his Hellish instincts in check, but that wasn’t really it, not if he really was honest with himself*.

* Which he rarely was.

Deep down, it was mostly because he actually liked the kid. And, well, there was a part of him that felt bad for him. Crowley had sprung into existence right at the Beginning, with a vague idea of identity but no real idea of what the Heaven was going on. But he’d been given orders - they all had - and he followed them for the most part. Until, well, until he hadn’t. Because, he had reflected, he really didn’t know what was going on, what was at stake, until it became abundantly obvious that just because you don’t know what’s going on doesn’t mean you ad-lib your way through until things seem alright**.

He couldn’t imagine being dropped into that suddenly, at the age of 11, so young and new and without any real concrete identity. Poor Adam. The kid had learned his true nature, learned the whole truth about Heaven and Hell and the Universe, about destiny and the Ineffable Plan, all in the space of 1 afternoon, and then rebuked all of it. Cast it aside.

Crowley felt, deep down somewhere, maybe where his soul had been once, that that wasn’t really fair. And that maybe, with enough gentle guidance and someone with ... if not a better idea of what on Earth was going on then at least experience making it up as you go, that he could help Adam avoid some nastier mistakes.

So he kept up with the kid. Once every month, give or take. They met at Anathema’s cottage, because while Adam’s inherent spiritual Teflon was probably enough to keep people from asking questions about the tall man in the sunglasses who visited on occasion, the safe ruse of visiting Newton and Anathema was less fraught with potential disaster. Nobody every really noticed the classic Bentley that was always parked outside.

“How old are you?” Adam asked one time. It was around his birthday, and it was clearly on his mind. “Like, really?”

Crowley hedged. “Uh, well. It’s - well, it’s tricky.” He glanced to Anathema and then back to Adam. Shrugged. “Hard to measure the bit before time got invented.”

“Huh.” Adam considered that. “Like, a long time before?” He nodded when the demon spread his hands, the universal gesture of ‘I don’t know’. “So you’re like the oldest person I know.”

Anathema chimed in. “Unless Aziraphale is -”

“Oh, right, Aziraphale!” Adam put his head to the side while he thought, and then sipped his lemonade. “Who came first, you or him?”

“I honestly don’t know, Adam,” Crowley admitted, staring into his coffee with an expression of consternation. “It was all muddled up in the beginning. Without time everything sort of - there wasn’t a first or a last or, you know, any kind of like, ah, linear measurement of whatever.” He saw Adam’s expression of confusion, and then shrugged. “Listen, the Beginning was really weird, there was a lot going on and then there was a lot of other things going on which were fairly, ah, hectic.” He stopped short of the Fall. Adam hadn’t asked about the Fall, and frankly wanted very little information about Hell. Crowley was more than happy to oblige.

“So how long have you known Aziraphale then?”

“About 6000 years.”

Anathema sat down next to Adam, and slid a half sandwich over to the kid on a plate. “And you really actually met in the Garden of Eden?”

“Well, technically on the wall around it, yeah.”

“Cool.” They had talked about Eden before, fairly early on. Adam had, gradually, been working his way through history by means of the memories of AJ Crowley. Crowley had found through the process that he didn’t really mind, actually, and honestly there was something gratifying about being told by a pre-teen that you’re pretty cool.

“Do you remember the date?” Anathema asked, startling Crowley enough to make him look up from his coffee, now cold. She was sipping her own drink, watching the demon over the rim of the cup.

“I - yeah. It was the seventh day, so on the calendar now it would be October 28.”

“So,” she said innocently, “your anniversary is in October. The 28th.” She pulled out her phone and - Crowley could only assume - put the date on her calendar. “I’ll send a card.” She raised an eyebrow and Adam watched, smirking, around a mouthful of sandwich. It was a game the two of them played, and Crowley had long since stopped groaning when it started. “Any plans?”

“It’s not really our anniversary. We don’t ah - well, there’s not really an anniversary so to speak that we, er.”

“My parents go out for dinner on their anniversary, and then maybe the movies or a play. Last year they rented a hotel room in London and made a whole weekend of it,” Adam contributed, once he’d finished his bite of sandwich. “I stayed with Brian.”

“Right, well -”

“You should go to America!” Adam continued, while Anathema covered her mouth with her hand. “See like, Mount Rushmore or like the Grand Canyon or whatever. People do that on their anniversary.”

“Why would they look at giant carved presidents on an anniversary?” Crowley asked, momentarily distracted.

“Who knows.” Adam shrugged. “Oh, or what about like, China, with the Great Wall, or Australia and the Great Barrier Reef, or what about a safari in Africa?”

“Been there, can’t swim, was around when the animals were Created,” Crowley responded to each in turn.

Anathema opened her mouth to say something - likely ask a question, she was always looking for information on some lost civilization or another, it was an interest of hers - but Adam continued with his suggestions. “Niagra Falls then. Or Everest. Or Japan?”

“Yeah, all very nice, but like I said we don’t really do anniversaries -”

“But you remember the date,” Anathema cut in.

“Well I mean it was fairly significant for other reasons -”

Adam scoffed. “So was my parents anniversary. They got married on the same day as all kinds of weird stuff in America happened, but they still celebrate theirs.”

Crowley tried to think of a way to explain to a soon-to-be-thirteen-year-old that after 6000 years, a single date on a calendar wasn’t necessarily as important. After all, which dates would you mark? The meeting date, the day they agreed on the Arrangement, the day Crowley saved Aziraphale from the French Revolution, the day Crowley saved Aziraphale from Nazis, the day -

He stopped that train of thought so abruptly Anathema and Adam might have heard the brakes. There was a trend there, and Crowley wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“We just never have,” he said lamely, at length. Adam shrugged, and finished his sandwich, and Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that shrug. That was the ‘fine, whatever’ shrug. The shrug that meant, thank Whoever, that Adam was bored with that line of questioning, and would shortly begin another which would be, Crowley reasoned, vastly preferable to this one.

“Something to bear in mind,” Anathema said, though, before Adam could muster up another question. “Might be sweet.”

“I’m a demon, I don’t do ‘sweet’,” Crowley pointed out.

Adam took a gulp of his drink, and asked, “So what was King Arthur like?” and Crowley jumped on it like a drowning man on a raft, rambling on about round tables and wizards and prats in armor looking for Black Knights in a stupid bog somewhere in the middle of bloody nowhere, all the while trying very hard to not think any more about October 28.

Which did come.

Eventually.

Time has a way of doing that. Crowley still wasn’t sure how he felt about the invention of it.

He showed up to the bookshop on the 28th, just prior to closing or, more accurately, exactly at closing, since customarily Aziraphale generally decided to close whenever Crowley showed up. He waited for the angel to shoo the last stragglers out of the shop, pull the shades, and lock the doors. He poured himself some wine while he waited, and considered the calendar on the wall by the desk***. He was midway through the first planned glass of wine that evening when Aziraphale finally joined him, flopping into a chair and grabbing the already-poured glass Crowley had set out for him.

“Got a letter from Miss Device, today,” Aziraphale said without preamble. Crowley’s blood ran cold^. He held up an envelope, and paused at Crowley’s expression. “Are you alright?” The demon managed a nod. “Oh, you looked - anyway. Just a note, you know how she writes. So nice of her to keep in touch.”

“Yeah, really nice.”

“Oh! And she enclosed these.” From the envelope, he produced two tickets - tickets, Crowley realized, distantly, while the high-pitched whine of panic rang in his ears. She’d sent a card, she said she would, and he’d done nothing, as usual, and - “She said she bought them for her and Newton to spend a night in London, but he’s having car trouble again. I suppose she thought we might get some use out of them.”

“Oh? Oh. That’s alright then.” Crowley took a draught of wine and sank lower onto the sofa, relief emanating from every atom of his being. “What for?”

“Royal Shakespeare Company - they’re doing ‘As You Like It.’” He smiled, and Crowley raised an eyebrow, the better to keep his own smile at bay. “You always said you liked the funny ones.” He took a sip of his wine. “You don’t have plans tonight, do you?”

“Who me? Nah, never.” Crowley paused, and swirled his wine in his glass. “Tell you what - what do you say about, oh, I dunno, having dinner first, maybe the Ritz? Make a night out of it.” There was a silence, which Crowley generally was not in favor of, but it was comfortable, and filled with the soft warmth of the bookshop’s ambient noise and the bustling street outside. Aziraphale smiled, and took a sip of wine. “Sounds delightful, Crowley. But a bit convenient. There wouldn’t be any reason for this spontaneous evening, would there?”

Crowley did not panic. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even break a sweat, just took a sip himself and answered, “It wouldn’t be spontaneous by definition then, would it?”

“No, I suppose not,” Aziraphale said, although he was grinning like anything. “Well, it’s a nice night for a little spontaneity. I’ll finish by drink, and then get my coat. Shall we walk?”

“We’ve got time.”

Aziraphale smiled and this time around, Crowley didn’t fight the urge to smile back.

** Although they still had, after a fashion.

*** It was from 1994, not that anybody cared.

^ Colder, anyway.

#good omens #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #ineffable husbands #ineffable best buddies forever more like it

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lywinis · 5 years

Photo

SCREW YOU TUMBLR STOP EATING MY CUTS.

AO3

[1986]

Crowley liked Soho. As far as places went, it was hardly a den of iniquity, but he’d always felt that there should be some sort of decorum to one’s descent into Hell. He’d seen other demons go at it slapdash, tempting with drugs and alcohol and sex, but it had all seemed rather crass, especially when one considered that humans tended to get there all on their own without outside influence.

He was hardly feeling unfulfilled at his job, however. He was secure in his spot; he hadn’t been ousted in nearly six milennia. While he’d almost been discorporated a handful of times – and actually discorporated a handful more, but he’d hung onto this body for quite a while now. There’d been no paperwork of that sort and no stretching out a new vessel, getting used to the kinks and working out how to feel comfortable in his skin again.

Humans had gotten simultaneously more and less violent. Wars were global, with bombs and protests and more bombs. The world held its breath as Russia and the US sized each other up.

The tension was something that hung over the world like a miasma, but it was hardly something anyone could do something about – even though Heaven and Hell had been working on it. Heaven was fighting against it, whispering suggestions into ears on both sides; Hell was ramping it up, enunciating the machismo and chest beating so that someone would get angry and hit a button. Crowley stayed out of it for the most part. Bringing about the apocalypse early would put a feather in his cap, with the right words whispered in the right ears, but Crowley thought of the bigger picture.

Earth was interesting, far more so than the crowded, dank and dripping hallways of the Pit, a proper bureaucrat’s wet dream with all the paperwork and queueing. No, Earth was much nicer. It had alcohol, rock and roll, good soft mattresses with duvets that felt like a caress.

Earth also had Aziraphale, and Crowley was damned glad for it.

In short, he was feeling very good about his place in the world; naturally that was when it all went to shit.

He was going out, in that way that he had when he’d had enough of telly and enough of remaining cooped up in his flat with his houseplants, but he hadn’t a clue as to what he wanted to do. Drinks were likely, but he’d seen Aziraphale almost six months ago. Too early to call on him, even at the bookshop. He took a risk every time he went; that day could be the day he was found out. Best not to draw too much attention to the bookshop nestled on the busiest corner in Soho, looking less like a shop and more like part of the background, no doubt something the angel had done to discourage customers.

That was hilarious in its own way, really. Crowley never got tired of watching Aziraphale annoy people away from his book collection. Technically angels weren’t supposed to own Things, but Aziraphale had never been shy of his admiration for humans and their words. Nor had he ever been shy about partaking in the physical world’s pleasures, such as eating or drinking.

Crowley cursed to himself. His feet had taken him toward the bookshop regardless of his own intent. He was almost there, in fact. He needed to think of something else. Aziraphale had distracted him, and the angel wasn’t even present.

That was dangerous, even moreso that he was trying to avoid whatever had been following him.

The last month or so, it had felt like he was being watched. Not in the way that Hell had, when they wanted to transmit new orders to him – if it were that, they would have just blared it through his stereo, interrupting wherever he happened to be on the Very Best of Queen. No, this was different.

This felt like being stalked by a predator. Crowley had been stalked before; wolves in Scotland, tigers in Burma, seagulls in Melbourne. It was hardly a new thing for him, but the way it made him feel was startling in its newness. The feeling had a razor sharp edge to it, enough to make the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end.

He was in danger, he could feel it in the shudder that rippled up his spine and rattled his pinfeathers.

Whatever it was, the chance of discorporation had become rather real. All the more reason to lure whatever it was away from A.Z. Fell & Co. He swaggered past, using the reflection in the glass, making a pretense of checking his hair in the mirrored surface. (A slicked back style this decade, something just as flashy as he was, a couple strands artfully escaping to make him seem just a little more approachable.) He gave himself a rather cocky set of finger guns, another recent invention that irritated people the world over, and moved on.

He sauntered through the streets, walking in random circles. He stopped for a pint here, grabbed a packet of smokes from a side shop that was still open this time of night. He irritated a whole night club by wiggling his fingers at the DJ’s equipment and putting it just out of calibration enough to be annoying.

Still, the feeling didn’t fade. In fact, it only seemed to intensify, moving slowly closer. Crowley had walked nearly to Whitechapel at this point, but the feeling was still behind him, sending chills up his spine.

Clouds passed over the moon, darkening the streets a bit. Crowley ducked behind a couple of rubbish bins, making for an alley. Maybe he could lose whatever it was by taking to the air.

It wasn’t to be, though. Whatever had been following him thought that stepping down the alley had been a marvelous idea, and he felt himself slammed up against the brick outer wall of a little cafe. The air rushed out of his lungs, but it was a good thing he didn’t need to breathe. He snapped his fingers, reappearing a couple of feet away from this new, unknown enemy.

Well…not entirely unknown.

“Nybbas,” he said, wiping at the thin stream of blood from his lower lip. “They let you out of preschool?”

“You’re always so funny.” Nybbas smiled. “Always with the jokes.”

It didn’t reassure Crowley. Nybbas’s smiles were always…off. A touch too wide, a hair too long, with an eerie tilt to his head. A minor duke in hell, he was low enough on the totem pole that he shouldn’t have been let up here at all, at least not without good reason.

He was plain looking, a shock of brown hair and dull brown eyes. It was when he smiled that it was…creepy. Where you could tell something was off.

“Why the warm welcome?” Crowley asked, gesturing with his bloodied fingers. A snap of his hand and he’d righted himself, but it was the way he was being studied.

Nybbas was smaller than he was, though no less strong; strength was measured in age and in how powerful you were when you Fell. Angels had certain skills you never lost, and demons squabbled over artifacts and knowledge to extend and hone those skills. Falling twisted most powers, though the general idea remained the same.

Nybbas, however, had always been an idealist. He oversaw visions, sending wonky prophecies to earth in order to keep people on their toes. Menial work in this day and age, but still.

“Well,” Nybbas said, scratching at his cheek. “I was coming up for confirmation of something. And for you.”

“For me?” Crowley asked. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Oh, yes,” Nybbas said, smiling again. “You see, I found something, and I want to test it out.”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Shit,” Crowley breathed.

“Oh, did you know?” Nybbas’s smile faded. “Well, that takes out at least half the fun of it. Hm. The other half should be all right.”

He tilted his head, withdrawing something from his sleeve. Crowley squinted, until the thing caught the moonlight. A long, sharp dagger, rusted and pitted with flecks of brownish mess. Rust, perhaps – or blood.

No. Not a dagger. It was too long, the blade too tapered. His heart started to hammer in his chest.

“So, you know what this is,” Nybbas said.

“I know what you think it is,” Crowley replied. Bluffing, perhaps. They’d been searching for that for ages, there was no way they’d found it.

Long ago, in Golgotha, a Roman had taken pity on the poor Christ, piercing his side with a spear as he hung dying from the cross. The Lancaea had been lost to time, the shaft snapped during the act and the weapon thought discarded.

If this was indeed the Spear of Destiny, he was in quite a bit of trouble.

Crowley had liked the young man when he’d met him. It was a shame his death had come so early. Crowley figured it was a bit of justice if this hurt as much as he thought it might.

Just a little bit.

Nybbas was watching him, turning the spearhead in his hand. Either the wood had rotted away with time, or the fanatics had carted it off piecemeal to various shrines and holy places, as though that would somehow make them holier or change them for the better.

There wasn’t anything to that sort of rubbish – it was all about their free will and how they used it, after all.

“I’d heard you were taking to sleep, Crawly.”

“It’s Crowley, now.”

“I don’t care,” Nybbas said. His smile never faded, but his eyes were flat, dull. “Yes or no?”

“A bit, yes,” he said. He glossed over the century he’d spent asleep, instead rolling his shoulders in a shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Everything,” Nybbas singsonged. “You forgot what I rule over already?”

Shit.

Nybbas’s other domain was dreams. Specifically, nightmares or dreams of temptation.

“Such lovely, vivid dreams,” Nybbas sighed, wistful. “I’ve never seen a demon have dreams before. How do you do it?”

“I…just do.” Crowley had no idea why they’d started, though he wasn’t about to tell Nybbas that.

“Who’s the blond?” Nybbas asked.

Crowley froze. Of course he’d have seen. Crowley dreamt of Aziraphale often, not that he could really help that.

“No one. I made him up.”

“Liar. Demons can’t do that.”

“I can.”

“What’s the Arrangement?” Nybbas focused on him like a cat that had caught a mouse and intended on playing with it.

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“LIAR!”

Nybbas was fast. Faster than Crowley had anticipated, and he had been ready for him. The smaller demon darted forward, and though Crowley hopped backward, he still took a hard gash across the forearm from the rusty spearhead.

It was a brilliant bolt of agony.

Crowley would have screamed, but all the air was sucked out of him in a wheeze, pulled from him by the slice to his forearm.

He’d been hanging here for hours, in the hot Golgotha sun. His arms were tired, his body flagging. Crowley stumbled, mashing his face against the brick of the wall. He scraped himself raw, sliding down against the filthy alleyway, sharp and shallow breaths not getting him the air he needed. The Romans laughed beneath him, even as he lifted himself up to take a breath.

He was weeping blood.

“Oh, so it is what I’ve been looking for,” Nybbas said.

His smile returned.

—–

Aziraphale was worried. He thought he’d seen Crowley, primping in his store front. He’d been poring over another misprinted bible, but had noticed the movement out of his peripheral. He’d been just about to invite the demon in for a drink, but Crowley had glanced at something over his shoulder, given his reflection those ridiculous finger thingies, and had sauntered on.

It had only really made Aziraphale curious.

It had only taken him a moment to put on his coat and grab his umbrella, but there was definitely a lack of Crowley as he stepped out of the shop and locked the doors with a twitch of his fingers.

So, he followed his nose.

Admittedly, he wasn’t as good as Crowley with that sort of thing, but over the milennia he’d learned to look. Along with Crowley’s presence came his scent; Aziraphale had to admit it had become something of a comfort these days. New leather, good earthy greenhouses, the hint of a campfire. There had been the sharp smell of good pipe tobacco, but it had gone and been replaced with the faint scent of engine oil once he’d bought the Bentley at the turn of the century.

Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he preferred one or the other. They all smelled like Crowley, that was enough.

He ignored the track that thought was taking and followed his nose. He found the mischief wreaked at each spot he’d stopped, following Crowley’s looping path all the way through Soho and into Whitechapel.

An hour or more of walking, and Aziraphale’s worry hadn’t abated. He was hardly exhaustible, but if this was Crowley playing with him, he’d rather be at his shop. Something in him, however, told him to keep going. It was the same quiet voice that had told him to help those poor people in the Garden, and he’d gotten better about listening to it.

“Dear St. Anthony, look around. Something’s lost that can’t be found,” he muttered to himself, flexing his hands over his umbrella, looking this way and that, trying to pick out where the scents were coming from.

Close enough, and he could feel the demon’s presence. It was a small pressure behind his eyes, something he’d been looking for, but as he turned another corner, he realized why it had faded as he got closer to it.

Something else had overwhelmed it.

A smaller man, his head tilted oddly and his lips pulled back in a rictus, stood over Crowley. There was a bloodied knife in his hand, and Aziraphale’s brain stopped making anything but a roar of white noise as he started forward.

Not a man. Not a man. Not a man.

——

Barely able to breathe.

The effects were fading, but Crowley was still gasping like a grounded fish. He was getting feeling back into his arms and legs, but he knew that Nybbas wasn’t about to let him get away with just a cut. He was going to slice into him so he could feel that agony over and over, until his body gave out. Then he’d wait until Crowley recorporated, and then do it again.

It was now or never, while he still had some sense left in him. He couldn’t die, not now.

He could run. Head to his flat. He had the holy water, he could–

“B E G O N E !”

The voice cracked the pavement. It was a roar of white noise, a howl in the night that set off car alarms and roused dogs and cats of all kinds, sending them vocalizing into the once-quiet London night.

Nybbas turned, and Crowley struggled to see through the red haze that was his vision, but there was too much white. Blazing nothingness, shining straight into his eyes and he squinted, trying to see.

——

Aziraphale cracked the demon across the face with the handle of his umbrella so hard that the wood cracked. Splinters shattered into the being’s jaw, and there was an unearthly scream as it fell back against the wall, clutching at its face. Its true form was nothing to sneer at, all smiling jaws and gnashing teeth, but Aziraphale jammed the rest of the umbrella into its sternum, angelic strength cleaving the breastbone in twain.

There was a crackle, a rush of flame, and a pop. The rusty knife clattered to the ground at his feet.

He and Crowley were alone, nothing but a scorchmark on the wall to mark the demon’s passing.

——

Crowley forced himself upward into consciousness. He was in danger, he needed to–

He groaned, audibly. Well, he wheezed. It was close. In the ballpark.

His tripled vision doubled, then singled in on Aziraphale, his divine radiance leaking through his vessel, haloing him in light. His eyes blazed with a blue-white radiance, his mouth drawn tight with disapproval. A broken umbrella in his hand might as well have been a blade; Crowley saw why they’d given him the flaming sword.

He was beautiful and terrible to behold, and Crowley loved him effortlessly, though it would consume him.

Aziraphale turned to him, and the light faded, revealing the same familiar, soft man, moonlight threading through his white-blond curls. He’d never seen a better sight in his entire life.

“Angel,” Crowley wheezed.

“Crowley!”

Crowley’s eyes started to roll back into his head, and he fought unconsciousness for all he was worth. Unfortunately, unconsciousness sucker punched him in the solar plexus and everything faded to black.

——

It was warm and soft where he awoke, and Crowley hesitated to open his eyes just yet. His head was throbbing, but compared to the last time he was conscious, that was a marked improvement. He slowly sat up, cataloguing his hurts.

The gash on his forearm was bandaged, and he could already feel it healing. His gaze was caught by the sight of his shirt.

He looked down at himself.

Tartan pyjamas. Of course. He sighed.

Aziraphale had rescued him. He could let him have that one, at least.

He pressed his feet to the rug, unsurprised to find it as comfortable and plush as everything else.

He had to get up. Everything in here smelled like the angel and he really, really needed to go, before he buried his face in the pillow and didn’t leave.

He snapped his fingers, the pyjamas replaced with clean attire that was more his style. Inhaling, he reached for the doorknob–

–only to almost be knocked over by Aziraphale bustling in with two mugs of tea and breakfast on a tray.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, stopping short and righting the tray. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rusty. “How long was I out?”

“A month and a half.” Crowley frowned. A month and a half, spent under the angel’s roof? He’d have to explain his disappearance. “How are you feeling, my dear boy?”

“Turned inside out,” Crowley said. “Tartan, really?”

“It was all I had.”

Crowley shot him a look over his glasses. Aziraphale colored a bright pink. He shuffled into the room and set the tray on a table.

“Won’t you join me? I made coffee.”

“How did you–”

“My umbrella,” Aziraphale said, stirring sugar into his tea. “Made from a staff I had long ago. It’s blessed by St. Anthony. Was blessed, I mean. It’s broken now.”

“Oh,” Crowley said, unsure what to say to that. “What about the–”

“Shh-ssh!” Aziraphale said, shooting him a Look. “You don’t need to know where It’s gone. It’s been taken care of.”

Crowley considered that. Probably for the best, lest someone figure out he knew where the Spear was. He let that one go, nodding slowly.

“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Aziraphale said. “And you should try the biscuits. At least a nibble.”

Crowley waved a hand and another squashy armchair floated over to where the table was, settling opposite Aziraphale.

There was no word to describe what he was feeling now. He couldn’t thank Aziraphale. Not for this. They’d get wind downstairs and it would be a nightmare. He could spin it that he’d just gotten away, trying to warn poor Nybbus…yeah, that could work.

He sat, taking the cup and saucer the angel pushed toward him.

The coffee was the perfect temperature.

#Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Crowley #Aziraphale #Kamidoodles #lywinis writes

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joshy-tomato · 5 years

Text

Inverted Fate

Chapter One: The door to the new adventure.

AO3

Sumary: After the fall of their homeworld, Riku ventures through different worlds looking for the friends he lost, Kairi tries to mend her mistakes without falling into darkness in the process. Sora just want them to stop fighting.He was falling… no, was sinking down.

The water plunge him, but he didn't feel fear or panic, just let himself be pull.

From one moment to another he wasn't falling anymore, he was standing in front the sea. The sun briged so harsh that he had to cover himself with his forearm. While his eyes adjusted to the light he got to see a silhouette in the water, a redhead girl with her back to him. He tried to chase her, but stopped in middle of the first step. She turned to him, a big wave forming behind her. Held out her hand, waiting for him to take it. Smiled calmly at him, her eyes reflecting everything but calm. The wave was getting closer and closer to them. Without think he run after her, fearing that the wave would take her away.

The wave hit, and now he was floating in the water. The girl was there too, with her hand extended to him and this time he tried to take it, but a strong tide take him away from her and back to the surface.

He didn't have time to process what just happened when he saw someone else in the shore of the beach. A brunet boy calling him and trying to attract his attention by moving exigerately. He hurried to him and when he did, the boy simply laughed playfully, crossing his arms behind his head.

He was about to accompany him, but he soon realized that now the blue eyes of the other boy reflected confusion, looking up the sky. He looked up too and what he saw was ... himself falling.

No, actually he was falling, there was no land beneath him.

He fell faster and faster, but when he was supposed to collide with the ground he simply was swallowed by it. The bluish-eyed boy tried to stop his fall and take his hand, but was worthless.

He was falling… no, was sinking down.

The water dragged him down, but he didn't feel fear or panic, just let himself be pull.

A boy was lying in the shore of the beach, sleeping peacefully like there was nothing to worry about. And talking about a place like Destiny Islands, probably was right. Nothing bad or interesting happens ever in Destiny Island. For any tourist, a paradisiacal paradise to relax. For all the islanders, just boring routine.

The child began to awake slowly, trying to order his thoughts to know exactly where and when he was. Sooner than later he gave up on it and decided it was better just keep sleeping, or at least that's what he would have done if not were for the mop of red hair that thrown over him. He got up startled, while the red-haired girl only laughed at his misery.

“Gimme a break Kairi” He complained even though he also laughed a little.

“Sora, you lazy bum I knew that I'de find you snoozing down here” She scoffed.

“I had a really strange dream, everything was dark and I couldn't move. It felt so real, I even don't know if actually was just a dream. Was really bizarre”

“Mmh… I think you just still asleep”

While they two were talking a third boy walk to them, carrying piece of wood.

“Hey, you two, the break is over” declared the silver-haired boy, with a playful smile on his face “I guess I'm the only one working on the raft” He walked towards Kairi, taking advantage of casually throwing the piece of wood over an unsuspecting Sora.

“And you're just as lazy as he is” He pointed accusingly at Kairi and she could not do anything but laugh.

“Ok, as you say Riku. We'll finished it together. I'll race you.” Kairi declared and the other two boys looked at her with disbelief, but they didn't seem to oppose the challenge.

“Ready? Go!”

He and Riku where friends since the beginning, didn't even remember when they started being friends. The knew each other all life.

Kairi entered their lives a few years later, although they were still only small childrens.

The first day, Sora wanted befriend her to had another friend at the list, Riku in exchange wanted know more about the girl from the outside world, a subject that obsessed him since early age. Between the three the connection was instantaneous. Before they knew it, Kairi had joined their pranks and they didn't complain about it. Since that they three did everything together. From the homework to their most recent and greatest crazy idea, a raft to explore other worlds.

Riku was the one with the idea, Kairi was totally on it while Sora just followed them up.

Wasn't that he didn't want know other worlds, of course not, the idea of new places to explore and new adventures waiting for him was something that really called his attention. But compared with Riku and Kairi his desires to know other worlds were nothing. Riku wanted know others worlds since really early age, from before Kairi arrive. His childish wish of an adventure become in a passion to know what was beyond the ocean, passing the horizons. Destiny Island became too small for his big ambitions. With Kairi was something more personal. Even if she loved her adoptive parents and her new life in Destiny Islands, the uncertainty about her origins was something that tormented her more than she wanted to show. What happened to her home? What happened to her biological family? How she end up in Destiny Islands? She longed for the answer to these questions and would not rest until found them.

And Sora? He just wanted to stay with his beloved friends.

“So, can you gather the rest of the supplies?... Sora, are you listening to me?”

“So, Kairi, what was your hometown like? You know, where you grew up” Asked Sora, while the tree where sit in the Poupou Three, looking at the sunset.

“I told you before, I don't remember." Kairi replied as she stared at the horizon.

"Nothing"

"Nothing at all”

“But you would like to know, isn't Kairi?” Was Riku's turn to ask now.

“Yes, I mean, I'm happy here but I wouldn't mind to see it”

“The raft could really take us there, to Kairi's world?” question Sora again, looking at Riku inquisitively.

“Who know? If we had to, we'll think of something else?”

“So, suppose you get to another world” Started Kairi “What you would do there?”

“I haven't really through about it. I always felt that there is something bigger waiting for me, outside in other worlds. So, just let fate decide what will become of us.” Riku laughed softly Just suppose there are other worlds... Then ours is just a little piece of something much greater. So we could've just as easily ended up somewhere else, right?

“I don't know.” replied Sora, snuggling leisurely in the tree.

“Exactly. That's why we need to go out there and find out.” started Riku, while he walk to the shore “Just sitting here won't change a thing. It's the same old stuff. So let's go.”

“You've been thinking a lot lately, haven't you?”

“Thanks to you. If you hadn't come here, I probably would've never thought of any of this. Kairi, thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

“Deal?, the winner gets to share a papou with Kairi.”

The paopu fruit, an iconic fruit with a star shape. The legend say that if two person share it their destinies become intertwined.

Was something romantic, he supposed. Never understood why people get so excited about that, for him was just that, a legend.

But he knew Kairi and Sora were interested in that. They couldn't be more obvious even if they tried, they liked each other. It was only a matter of waiting and seeing which one took the first step. And Riku thought that neither of them would do it unless he gave them a push. He already teased Sora with that yesterday afternoon. With a little luck, Sora would realize that he had to act on his feelings about Kairi before anyone got ahead. Even if he had to antagonize himself for it.

He did it so they would be happy, that was all that mattered to him.

Then… why it hurt so much?

“Because they are leaving you behind. Once they have each other will not need you anymore.”

“Wha… wait a minute...” Sora sounded confused, and probably was.

“Okay, on my count” announced Kairi, totally unaware of the conversation between the two boys. “3… 2… 1!”

“So you'll just let your Light go away from you.”

The voice inside his head sounded again, causing him be delayed in the race and giving Sora an advantage he could no longer overcome.

As expected, he couldn't reach Sora, making him the winner of this race.

Sora was already celebrating this. Riku knew that he had been wanting beat him for a while, so Sora was probably very proud of this victory. A part of him wanted burst Sora's bubble and tell him it hadn't been a big deal but the other look at the boy, so radiantly cheerful for something so insignificant and then decided that he didn't have the heart to do that.

“I think I underestimated you Sora. You win, choose you the name of the raft.” The smile on Sora's face when he heard these words heated Riku´s heart and all the insecurities that the voice had put in his head stopped making sense.

After the race, Kairi and Sora went to look for more provision while he stayed in the same place, looking at the ocean and clearing his mind. A few minutes later he heard a steps behind him.

“Hey Riku, about the paopu. I know that you were just kidding”

And for some reason, Sora's words make him happy. Selfishly happy.

The last place where he looks was The Secret Place. He check over the place until he found what he was looking for, a mushroom.

He went where the mushroom was and once there he saw on the near wall some old drawings carved in stone. He remembered having drawn that long ago, when he recently befriend Kairi and she was too shy for the games that he and Riku played. So he brought her here to draw and hang out.

Riku's words sound inside his head again.

The Paopu fruit. Share it with Kairi. Connect his soul to hers.

He would be lying if he said that he didn't like how that sounded. But at the same time… Yes, he wanted be with Kairi for eternity, but that would only be worth it if Riku was there too.

He didn't care what destiny was planning for him or where fate wanted him to go.

“Please, let me be with them. Don't take us apart”

Lately, more than ever he felt that he have to protect the bond between the tree of them. Something was happening, or was about to happen. And he was afraid. Something inside his two friends was scaring him, but he didn't knew what was that.

He take a rock and started to carve in the wall. The mushroom could wait.

While he was doing it he remembered an old promise. The face of the woman that made him promise it faded over time, but the importance of the oath survived. Stay with Riku and keep him safe. Don't let him go through the dark path. Now that the greatest adventure of their lives was about to begin was important remember that promise.

And then he felt sick. He felt dizzy and with great pressure in his chest.

Someone was behind him.

“Wh- Who is there?” He asked while stand up, trying to maintain balance.

“I’ve come to see the door to this world.” A hooded figure came out of the shadows. Their voice was slow, deep and mysterious, giving them an even more intimidating presence.“This world has been connected.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?”

“Tied to the darkness... Soon to be completely eclipsed.” Declared the hooded. The feeling of uneasiness and alertness in Sora increased more and more. Something about this dude felt… wrong.

“Well, whoever you are, stop freaking me out like this.” Sora tried to sound threatening, fearless, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him at the last moment. ”Wh-Where did you come from?”

“You do not yet know what lies beyond the door.”

Beyond the door? Inside Sora's head that only could mean one thing. “So, you’re from another world!”

“There is so very much to learn. You understand so little.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’ll see. I’m gonna get out and learn what’s out there!” exclaimed Sora with defiance, but the hooded did not flinch.

“A meaningless effort. One who knows nothing can understand nothing.”

Sora was ready to respond, but the had figure already left, as if them just vanished into thin air.

Seeing that he would not get anything by staying here, he decided to leave too.

Maybe was just a weirdo.

#KH #kingdom hearts #sorikai #roleswap au #/Inverted fate #kh fanfic #my fanfic

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darkling-er · 6 years

Text

Hope’s Savior ( John Seed x OC ) | Part 10

Summary: Trinity-Hope Johnson finds herself in the middle of a holy war, leading the Resistance, while having a complicated relationship with one of the cult’s herald. And she thought her first case would be easy. Oh how wrong she was!

Pairings: John Seed/Fem!Deputy, John Seed/OC, Earl Whitehorse & OC ( uncle&niece ), Joseph Seed/Fem!Deputy ( kind of ), might add more later

Warnings: mild language, violence, eventually smut, masturbation, oral sex, you know guys the usual, use of drugs ( bliss and other, thanks to Sharky ), fluff ( does that even need a warning? ), manipulation, angst, mention of mental illness ( insomnia, depression ), mention of child abuse ( from John’s side ), torture, I think that’s it? I swear it’s not so bad!

Word Counter: 4794

Notes: In this chapter I mention my hon’s oc, Liza Evans. You can check Liza’s story, and our interactions here: link , interactions with Liza and my ocs (others). I’m in love with hon’s oc, I’m sure you’ll like her too. ♥

Only you, can make this change in me...

The world is on fire again. Dark clouds of fire and ash cover the once green and vivid Earth. Hope’s nose is filled with the smell of burned flesh, human flesh, she thinks and she knows she’s right. Her friends, the people of Hope County are dead. And she stands on the pile of dead bodies, not even recognizing one of them as they melt in the fire. A fire that doesn’t affect her, which doesn’t hurt her. She shakes of fear and fury. But there are no screams, like last time, only an all too familiar song:

For it’s true, you are my destiny...

Then the dead bodies suddenly all stand on their feet. Looking at her, though their faces are melted and disfigured, she knows they are looking at her. All screaming silently, not making a noise, but a high pitch reaches her ears. Too high, too painful and she covers her ears with her hands, but to no vail, it doesn’t help. The music, the screams it’s all too much for her to take. Hope falls to the ground, but an even louder voice shakes her out of it:

“TRAIN! HUNT! KILL! SACRIFICE!” It’s Jacob Seed’s voice, and it repeats over and over and over again, getting louder than before and she can’t taki it anymore, she screams as well.

“Train! Hunt! Kill! Sacrifice!” She cries out, suddenly a gun in hand, killing the high pitch noise makers, every person getting a face as she shoots them.

Disfigured face, shoot, Dutch... Burned body, shoot, Sharky... Unknown bloody face, shoot, Earl... and it goes on again and again and again and she doesn’t stop even as tears fall down her face, knowing she’s killing her friends.

Then it stops, the high pitch, the music, everything. The ash falling from the skies stops as well. And then blackness comes to swallow her whole and Jacob Seed’s proud voice can be heard:

“Excellent.”

Waking up on the bench of the church in Fall’s End is a lot better than waking up tied up to a chair. So Hope doesn’t complain as her muscles hurt, when she gets up from the furniture. Her muscles hurt all the time, she gets cuts and wounds every day, thanks to the fighting, so who cares anyway?

She’s covered in sweat, even though the church is quite cold. Her ears still hurt and she feels a liquid sliding down her earlobe. She touches it then moves her hand in front of here view. Blood. And as if she wasn’t panicking already, a cough comes from behind her, startling her.

She doesn’t think as she gets her pistol from her holster, turns around and shoots blindly. The sound of the gunshot echoing in the house of God scares her. Her own actions scare her. With wide eyes, panic creeping up on her she looks at Pastor Jerome, hands shaking, lowering her gun.

The man seems scared, but not hurt, as the bullet went past him and hit the walls instead of his flesh.

“Oh God! I’m.. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Jerome, are you okay?”

She puts down her pistol and stumbles as she gets near the man, the Pastor catching her by the arm.

“Yes, don’t worry, Deputy. Nothing bad happened, that’s what matters.” He says and then looks at the young woman’s bleeding ear, touching the still fresh blood. “Deputy, are you all right? You’re bleeding!”

She shakes her head. No, I’m not fucking all right. The she nods slowly, calming down, closing her eyes. She can’t mention her dream, or the real time she heard Jacob’s commands, could she now?

“I.. yeah, just hit it into the bench when I woke up from a nightmare.” She feels bad lying to the man.

He showed her nothing but kindness and comfort, and here she goes betraying him with her lies. Jerome seems to notice it too, the hurt in his eyes visible, but says nothing as he sighs and lets the girl go.

“Did you sleep in here?” He asks looking at the bench she was sitting on a couple of minutes prior to this moment.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind...” Hope starts and Jerome chuckles lightly, holding up his hands:

“Deputy, it’s alright. But you could have asked any of us, we surely would have found you a bed.”

She nods, then starts to walk out of the church:

“I just wanted a place to rest for the night, I still have lots of things to do in the Valley... I’ll talk to you later.”

Hope feels bad about leaving the man like that, but she can’t seem to handle people, not while her dream is still fresh in her mind. As he exits the church she bumps into Adam’s chest.

“Are you okay?” The man asks, looking down at her, it’s easy for everyone to tower over her small form.

“Yeah, why is everyone so interested how I’m doing today?!” She asks annoyed and goes on her way toward the chopper she landed yesterday night.

The chopper reminds her of John Seed and she groans out loud, not wanting to deal with the youngest Seed brother in her head right now.

“Wow, someone’s grumpy.” Adam chuckles as he follows her.

Hope enters the chopper and the gun for hire does the same, making the young woman annoyed again.

“Why are you following me?”

He raises an eyebrow and looks at the junior deputy weirdly:

“You didn’t call.”

She snorts as they take off from the ground, leaving Fall’s End behind as they move toward west.

“Yeah, that usually means that you don’t have to come and follow me. When I call you, you come. That’s how this works, asshole!”

The man rolls his eyes:

“Well yeah, we were worried about you. Liza called me to check up on you after yesterday, so I did.”

Hope frowns at that. Liza Evans, the woman who she considers as her friend, who tends to listen to all radio channels to help out the Resistance with all kinds of information called Adam. To check up on her... After yesterday’s events...

“Fuck...” She sighs out, knowing that the woman probably heard her conversation with John Seed.

“What happened yesterday?” Adam asks her.

So she didn’t tell him at least. Good...

“Nothing of your concern.”

Silence falls upon them and she feels like apologizing for being rude to the man, when he changes topics:

“Where are we going?”

They’re already near their destination as she answers him:

“To the Lamb of God church. A woman named Grace needs our help there.”

Hope lands the chopper and exit it. Her rifle on her shoulder, pistol in holster and AR-C in hand. Adam holds his bow as they approach the church. Peggies are already outside, shooting at the belltower, where Hope spots a woman, Grace, probably.

The cultist don’t expect Adam and the Deputy so they fall to the ground dead pretty quickly.

“Hey, belltower!” Grace motions for them and Adam stays down the ground as Hope climbs the ladder on the side of the church.

The woman look at the sniper rifle on Hope’s shoulder and asks:

“How good of a shot are you?”

Hope smiles, remembering her longest shot to be about 150 meters:

“Not to brag, but pretty good.”

The woman scoffs, but smiles:

“Good... Name’s Grace. Got word soemone was out makin’ life miserable for the cult. You got good timing. See those graves down there?” She points at the cemetery of the church.

“Yup.”

“A couple war heroes buried here... My Pops is one of ‘em. The Peggies are trying to defile ‘em. They’re trying erase our history... demoralize us... get us to break so we’ll roll over. Huh, not on my fuckin’ watch. Ain’t nobody gonna touch my Pop’s grave while I’m still breathing. I’m a good shot, but I need someone to watch my back. They’re be here any second.”

“Alright, we’ll help you, don’t worry!” Hope takes her place on the roof, and tells Adam to get ready his pistol, if his bow won’t be that great against an ambush.

There’s no much time to prepare as the peggies are already on their way toward the mausoleums to destroy them. Grace wan’t kidding, she’s a good shot, as she takes out the peggies one by one. As some of them get closer they throw molotovs on the roof, Hope almost getting herself caught on fire. Sharky would love this... She thinks as she takes out the peggies that get too close to the graves.

“How pathetic are they, trying to destroy graves? Like, seriously? What is wrong with these people?” She shouts in between shots to Grace.

“Fuckin’ coward, that’s what they are. Don’t respect anyone, not even the dead.”

After firing up the guys with the flamethrowers and no more peggies are left alive Hope goes up to talk to the woman:

“Gotta admit, it would have been tough, without you... I owe you. Not a lot of people would have stuck their neck out like that.”

“That’s what I do.” Hope smiles at her, Grace returning a small smile.

“Means a lot to me. My pops always said, as long as we keep believin’ in each other, there’s still hope. If we stick together, look out for one another... Cult will never break us.”

Hope smiles, her anger from yesterday evening toward Dutch and the Resistance fading away. She had her doubts, she was angry that people kept acting like she was some soldier, just a tool for their cause. And here it is this woman, talking the truth. The reason why she keeps fighting and not just give up. People need to stick together.

“I ain’t about to get all sappy and shit, but if you ever need help, gimme a call. I got your back.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Right now I have that asshole over there with me though.” She motions to Adam with a teasing smile. “But I’ll call you, if we need help, keep safe.”

“Same goes to you, Deputy.”

They stay to loot the peggie corpses for useful stuff, as Dutch calls her. She feels ashamed after their yesterday fight, but the man sounds same as always.

“See you met Grace. Known her since she was a kid. Honest. Tough. Every bit the soldier her daddy was. Probably ten times the shot, too. She’ll watch your back when the shit hits the fan.”

The chopper got destroyed by the peggies while they were fighting - Thanks assholes - so Adam and her start walking. Adam being left behind a bit.

“Deputy.. not to be... a pain... in the ass... but... slow down?” Adam asks, breathing heavily.

Hope turns around, while walking backwards, still moving faster than the man, with a big grin on her face.

“Awwww, is our big grumpy man being tired? You wanted to come, so suck on that.” She laughs turning around.

“Seriously... gonna... pass out.”

Hope thinks he’s just being dramatic, but a big thud sound makes her turn around. Man on the ground she jogs up to him, crouching at the man’s side.

“Adam, you okay?” She asks, poking the man, who grunts in return, but unconscious.

“Great...” She scoffs, then sits beside him, dragging him off the road. They don’t want to get hit by a car or anything.

She’s waiting for the man to wake up, considering to call help after a few moments, when her radio crackles to life.

“Deputy... you’ve had your fun. But all sinners must confess. This is the will of the Father. My men are coming for you.” Wow, he sounds pissed, and I haven’t even done any big damage today. She wonders if the man remembers yesterday night as he finishes with: “I’ll see you soon.”

Why did that last sentence send chills down her spine? Why does she feel excited about this? Why did he sound so... sincere with the last sentence. Why, why, why... She doesn’t have much time to prepare as the search party comes for her.

Just as she starts shooting them down, getting her and Adam behind a tree, not wanting to get a bliss bullet yet again her radio crackles again:

“John is fucking determined to sink his hooks into you, Deputy.” Yeah, no shit! “I know you got out by the skin of your teeth last time, but don’t underestimate this bastard. Dutch out.”

And as the man says out, Hope gets a bullet into her leg. Same that got the arrow days ago.

“Oh for fuck’s...sake...” She says but feels dizzy as the white dots appear in front of her, and she’s soon out.

Moaning into the blackness Hope feels like shit. Her leg hurts, her body hurts and weirdly enough she doesn’t feel the effect of the Bliss. How long has she been out, if it wear off?

“They put up a good fight.” An unfamiliar man’s voice can be heard and she wants to say ‘Shut up I’m sleeping’, but as she closes her eyes and catches a glimpse of the ceiling, she realizes she’s in a bunker. John’s bunker!

“Wake up, Sinner!”

“Fuck you...” She spits out, but is still feeling dizzy and sleepy, her body aching for going back to sleep.

“Be easier to just put a bullet in ‘em.” You did that, it hurt, you fucker...

“That is not the will of the Father.” She wants to say fuck your ‘Father’ but feels that would not be a smart move, also she can’t even speak straight, she can’t even see straight, just blurrs all over.

“Take them to John. He’s ready to hear their Confession.”

She kicks powerlessly at the man who grabs her hurting leg, and the pain sends her right back to sleep, with the knowing next time she’ll wake up, she’ll have to face John Seed.

Muffled screaming and metal clamping wakes her up. Having a headache it doesn’t help her relax. It’s annoying and she wants to shut the source up. She groans, but the scream just becomes louder so she opens her eyes, though she wishes she didn’t. She looks down at herself, tied to a chair and for a moment she thinks she’s back with Jacob and it scares her to hell. Then her memory starts to work and remembers they took her to John. Why does that make me relax?

She looks down at her bloody hands - her own blood from the fighting, climbing and crawling made her hands filled with bruises. She tied to the chair, with rope, not tape that Jacob used on her. But it’s not comfortable either, even more uncomfortable. Her wrists feeling already hurt by the ropes on them, she must have move around a lot while she was asleep.

She looks up from her hand and in the back of the strange room is another person, tied to a chair just like her. The woman, by the sound of it -because her vision is still not yet clean- is jumping and moving around in her chair, trying to escape or to get Hope’s attention. She blinks and opens her eyes wide to get her vision back to clear - keep it like this and I’ll lose my sight one day.

“Hudson!” She says as she recognizes her co-worker. She’s still in her uniform. Jesus, she’s been in that for weeks?! She looks miserably to Hope, still trying to get words out of her mouth, which is covered in tape. But not hers, not Hope’s. And she has a feeling why it’s like this. She wants to say to her that she’ll get themselves out, though she knows that’s a lie. Now they are both in the same position.

Hope keeps her mouth shut as a metal door behind her, where she can’t see, is being shut forcefully.

Hudson keeps quiet, seeing the person coming into the room. But Hope doesn’t need to see to know who it is.

Steps echo on the metal floor and a cheerful whistle can be heard. We’ll meet again...

She gets a jump as John Seed gets into her view, placing a bowl down on the table next to her chair. Water and a sponge. Then he doesn’t even look at the junior deputy as he goes along, metal box in hand, still whistling.

He stops at a wooden table of some kind. Which has a... Jesus is that a human skin?!... taped to it. The Baptist sets down his box on the table, then opens it and a bit too dramatically wipes the table from the dust on it as he sets down his tools on it. I have a feeling those aren’t usual tools for fixing the heater or something...

He stops whistling, both hand on the table, waiting for something. Or just being a dramatic ass as usual...

In the sudden silence she can hear her own heart pounding in her chest. She’s not that terrified, only god knows why not. She doesn’t dare to speak up first. Over the radio it’s her territory, she feels in a false safe, but here. This is the den of the wolf, and he’s ready to swallow it’s prey if it dares to make a sound.

She looks him over for weapons, seeing none, but she knows better than to think he can’t do damage to her. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, his hair is neatly done. She imagines how she must look like: her sweater from the whitetails being big on her, her overused jeans being dirty and bloody. She looks like she came from a war to do netflix. While he looks like he’s ready to fuck everyone’s shit up in court.

The man inhales as he turns around and it makes her shiver a bit, completely lost in her thoughts now trying to focus on John Seed. Oh for fucks sake! She thinks as Hope watches the man smirk at her, hand on the table, other hand hanging at his side, almost behind his back. She can’t help but look at his belt, kind of hanging in the air on his jeans, breaking the whole neat form a bit. Why the fuck is he hot? No! Stop it, don’t think about that! As the man starts talking Hope rolls her eyes, knowing this will be a long ass monologe.

“My...’parents’.Were the first ones to teach me about the Power of Yes.”

Hope frowns as John turns back to the table. This is new. This isn’t something about Joseph and the Voice, the grace of God, no. This is something more personal, more real. And Hope can’t help but feel like she’s being invited to get to know his past. She sits quietly, waiting for him to continue. He gets a stapler out of the metal box and a piece of human skin, sticking it next to the other skin. Eww...

“One night, they took me into the kitchen, and they threw me on the ground, and I experienced pain after pain after pain...” He slaps down the stapler on the desk and Hope gets starlted a bit, while Hudson makes a crying sound of fear.

Hope isn’t exactly afraid, she’s more intrigued with the story. So he was abused by his parents, great... Makes sense... Don’t feel sorry for him, don’t feel sorry for him, don’t feel sorry for him... But she can’t help and imagine a young boy, crying on the kitchen floor while his parents beat him. Shit, I feel sorry him...

He turns around, looking at Hope, but his stare wanders around, imagining the story he tells her, she thinks.

“And when I didn’t think I could take anymore, I did.” He gets something out of the box, a tool of some kind and she follows his every move with her eyes. As the man steps closer to her, a smell of cologne hits her nose. God, it’s been so long she felt the something so good. Always fighting the scent of blood and dirt around her. Even in Fall’s End, with the gunpowder and everything unpleasent. And here it is John Seed with his too good scent, she can’t help but inhale deeply which she tries to hide as an annoyed sound.

He turns on the lamp next to her on the table, positioning it so it blinds her for a second.

“Something broke free inside. I wasn’t scared, I was...” He seems to think for a bit as Hope watches the key hanging around his neck, right on his collarbone with the ‘Sloth’ carving. “...clear.”

He starts to connect the head of the tattoo gun with the machine, and Hope gulps at that, not wanting to know that sooner or later that will touch her skin. I wanted a tattoo once, now I’m not sure about this...

“I looked up at them and I started to laugh. All I could say was... Yes.” He doesn’t break eye contact and as he starts the tattoo gun, trying it out Hudson groans through her gag, but Hope doesn’t flinch. I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction.

He looks kind of dissappointed, raising his eyebrows as he looks away, turning of the tattoo gun, putting it down.

“I spent my enitre life looking for more things to say ‘yes’ to.”

Hope gasps as he quickly moves toward her, making it impossible to not look at him as he grabs the neck of her sweater, tearing it open down to her sternal line. Oh fuck, you got to be kidding me. She thinks, realizing she doesn’t wear a bra - it was removed from her when she was brought back to the whitetails just as all of her clothes. Her breasts aren’t out completely but it’s enough to make her feel exposed, face turning red.

It’s obvious to John she doesn’t wear a bra as well. A smile on his face as he looks at her exposed skin, eyes wandering around. She tries her best not to breath so heavily, not wanting more attention to herself.

“I opened every hole in my body and when those were filled, I created more.” He looks up at her flushed face and her lips. Hope doing what she always does when feeling anxious bites her lover lip a bit, making John stop for a second, considering something even, but he straightens up, not breaking eye contact.

“But it was Joseph who showed me just how selfish I was being.” He grabs the bowl with the sponge and starts to clean her chest with it. The cold water making her having goosebumps and the liquid sliding down on her making her nipples harden against the fabric of her sweater. The feeling of skin to skin making her thoughts go wild, trying to think about anything but John Seed’s hand against her chest.

“Always receiving. Always taking.” He looks up at her and continues to clean her skin with the sponge. “The best gift isn’t the one you get, it’s the one you give. And giving takes courage. The courage...” He finishes cleaning her, putting the bowl and sponge back to the table next to her as he turns around continuing.

“...to own your sin. To etch it on to your flesh.” He looks at Hudson, for the first time since he stepped into the room, then turns back.” And carry it’s burden and when you have endured - when you truly begin to atone - to cut it out like a cancer and display it for all to see.”

He motions to his own chest, trying to mimic what he’s talking about. Then he chuckles. “ My God, that’s courage.”

He turns to his desk with the human skin on it, getting out a knife sharpener from his metal box while talking, pacing around the room. Letting his voice to raise as he does.

“I’m going to teach you courage. Teach you how to say yes so you can confront your weaknesses. Confront your sin. You will swim across an ocean of pain and emerge... free.” He points the sharpener at Hope’s direction, walking toward the young woman. Placing the cold metal to her skin, right on her chest, then sliding it down to her clivage, which makes her trying to shift and get away from him. He smirks at her, a sadistic smile on that beautiful face. Why are the pretty ones the craziest?

“For only then can you truly begin to atone.”

He turns around, stopping at his desk, leaning on it with a pose he could totally make front page of a psycho version of Playboy. His voice smooth, but the it’s filled with the heavy consequenses they carry.

“So, who wants to go first? Hm?”

Fuck him... Hudson’s mouth is taped, so there’s no way she could say yes to the man, not that she would if she could anyway. This is a game between them, between the Deputy and the Baptist. They all know it.

She has to think quickly. Her heart says she should just say it and be over with it already. Let him win this round, make Hudson free from the man for a short time. But her pride, her stubborn head makes her stay silent. I won’t let him win...

“Which one? Hmmm?” But there’s only silence following him, his eyes starting to burn with fire, his voice collected still, but not for long and the junior deputy knows that.

“This..is..lesson..number..one.” His voice starting to get cold, smile fading a bit.

Hudson screams a sound that is similar to “no”, fighting against her restraints. Hope glances toward the woman, feeling her own walls break at the look of her. Pity building in her, her heart aching. She parts her lips, but closes it. Even if she said yes, he would keep both of them. This makes no difference. He will torture them both even if she says nothing. The word would just make his ego bigger, so she tries her best to ignore Hudson, looking at the man’s eyes, challenging him.

“Someone’s got to choose!” He shouts, eyes burning in anger and he suddenly turns around and flips the whole table he was leaning on a few seconds ago.

“For Fucks Sake, we’ll start with you!” He shouts angrily at Hope, walking toward her, face hard, then an evil smile comes across his face as he leans in to her face. I knew it...

“You won’t regret this, I promise.” He leans out and walks toward a crying Hudson.

“Now, before we begin I think it’s only proper that Deputy Hudson goes back to her room. Confessions are supposed be privatey after all.” He grabs her chair and starts leading her out toward the door, to stop next to Hope.

Hudson crying John stops her, hushing her.

“Shhh...shhh... I am not here to take your life.” He looks at the junior deputy. “I’m here to give it to you.”

John leans in toward Hope, grabbing her neck smoothly with both his hands, thumb circling around her pulse. Then he starts to choke her, giving more force as he speaks:

“I’m going to open you and pour your worst fears inside.” He cuts all her air away and she opens her mouth, desperatly trying to get away, trying to breath again. A moan escaping her lips which can be easily mistaken to a pleasure sound. “And as you choke, your sins will reveal themselves. Only then will you truly understand the Power of Yes.”

He stops choking, but leaves his hands on her throat, smoothing away the previous pain with his fingers, a smirk on his face as he takes a look on her more exposed breasts.

“Fuck you!” She spits at him, making him to release her as he steps back.

A surprised chuckle comes from him, looking down at her as he wipes the spit from his beard and then taking his fingers in his mouth, tasting it. Hope looks at him, disgusted and flushed by his action. He humms, then looks into her eyes, a look of a predator... a look of lust on his face and Hope can’t help but remember how he said in their last conversation that he wants her beneath him...

“Baby’s first words.” He chuckles again, meaning that the deputy never spoke to him in real life, only through the radio.

Then like nothing happened he takes Hudson’s chair and smirks at Hope.

“I’ll be right back.” And he takes out Hudson with him through the door, where Hope can’t see to leave the deputy on her own in the room.

A/N: So fucking tumblr decided to delete my chapter at least 3 times in a row, so I had to rewrite everything... Meaning it’s probably a sloppy and poor version of the original one. My anger and annoyance making this chapter probably my worst one ever. So sorry for that. And screw you tumblr...

Tags: @onl-you , @redaurora17

#hope's savior #trinity-hope johnson #my deputy #far cry 5 fanfiction #far cry fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #john seed x deputy #john seed x female deputy #john seed x oc #far cry 5 #my ocs

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