#me: i am ignoring that for my own nefarious purposes
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The aromantic part of me adores how the relationship between dragons and riders is portrayed as the closest and most loving bond possible while never being written as romantic because it means so much to see such sincere recognition of the value of platonic intimacy. And that part of me is constantly fighting with the monsterfucker part of me which is devasted that the dragons and riders never got to make out sloppy style.
#is that so much to ask?#eragon#inheritance cycle#ive always been confused and saddened by the lack of monsterfucker presence in this fandom#theres so much potential#books: dragons tongues are covered in barbs that can skin a cow#me: i am ignoring that for my own nefarious purposes
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girlfriend (zoro x reader nsfw)
part of my 1600 follower event!
prompt is: show him what you do to me/late at night when the wind is free/we're gonna have to tell him/you'll only be a girlfriend/of mine
18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 2.6k masterlist
cw: afab!reader, jealousy, established relationship, law is lowkey a freak, unrequited law x reader, voyeurism, jerking off, eavesdropping, unknowing exhibitionism, dirty talk, law considering using his devil fruit for (actually) nefarious purposes
tagging: @eelnoise @ragethebunny @sanjisprincesswifey @willowhaze26 @kaizokuniichan
Lazy clouds roll overhead, making for an easy and uneventful day at sea. The soft rock of the ship is soothing, and the ocean mist turns you ticklish as it sprinkles across your face and into your hair. It was sublimely serene and peaceful—until your crewmates decide to make you the target of their mischief for the afternoon.
“Sanji wants to know what your boyfriend wants for lunch.” Nami asks as she approaches you next to the railing, a wicked grin on her face as Usopp tries his best to suppress a fit of giggles.
Brows knit together as you look at her, perplexed. “Why? He knows Zoro will eat just about anything besides chocolate.” you reply, still unsure as to why Sanji was bothering to ask considering he usually made his menus without even thinking to consider Zoro’s opinion, stating that the mosshead is too crude to have a fully developed sense of taste.
“No, not Zoro, your other boyfriend!” she teases, causing you to let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes as Usopp cackles. Trafalgar Law had made himself quite comfortable around you during his temporary stay on the Sunny; it had started with an interest in a coin he was absentmindedly flicking into the air—you used to grade and collect them, after all—and it had devolved into him sticking close to your side, grumbling under his breath that you were the only person on the crew he could tolerate.
“Why am I the Law expert?” you hiss, frustrated and trying to keep your voice down. Truthfully, at a different, more naïve time in your life, Law’s strange charm and roundabout way of indirectly flirting with you through mumbled half-compliments would have had your wrapped around his finger, but not now; not when you had a support system of people to give you whole, unrestricted, free-flowing love. Not when you were in an idyllic partnership built on respect and growth. There was no room in your heart for Law and his cryptic platitudes beyond friendship—not when you were in love with Zoro.
“Because he sits and talks to you with that dopey look in his eyes as if he’s never seen a pretty girl before in his life! He’s so obvious it’s painful!” Usopp exclaims, causing you to sigh. Law considered himself smooth and sneaky, but the way he showed you preferential treatment was beyond glaringly obvious, and considering that nearly everyone else had picked up on it, it was only a matter of time before it spilled over into something that you weren’t quite prepared to deal with yet.
“Which is why I’ve been trying to ignore it.” you say through gritted teeth. Worry rushes through your veins as you consider the last week or so, replaying each interaction with him in his head to try to decipher if you had been encouraging his budding affections in any way. Unsatisfied with the vagueness of your conclusion, you reach for external validation. “I’m not doing anything to give him the wrong idea, am I?” you ask them, nervously digging your nails into your forearms.
“You’re just being friendly.” Nami says, reassuring you with a squeeze to your shoulder. “It’s just hilarious to watch him follow you around like a lost puppy.” You’d liken him more to a miserable wet cat than a puppy, sulking in corners and stealing you away to demand attention when it suited him, craving affection from you, but only on his own terms. It was a bid for control that was foreign to you and left a bitter distaste in your mouth, especially when you were accustomed to the mutual trust that you and Zoro shared.
“And a bit pathetic.” Usopp adds with a crooked grin.
“You’re one to talk about being pathetic.” Nami chimes in, unable to resist getting in a playful dig at her friend’s expense.
“Hey!” he exclaims, launching the two into a fit of unserious bickering as the sound of heavy boots against the deck approach them.
“Is that moron done with lunch yet?” Zoro asks with a huff, sweaty, fatigued, and irritated after a rough workout.
“Almost! Or at least he better be—I’m starving too.” you tell him with a smile; the look on your face visibly softens his frustration slightly, turning his anger into a gentle rumble.
“Idiot can’t even stick to a regular schedule.” he growls, leaning against the railing next to you. As Nami and Usopp remain engrossed in their sidebar conversation, you take the opportunity to softly ask him how his training went, and eagerly drink up each detail. In return, he wants you to relay him the details of your morning, and you do, with a dreamy smile of your face—a lovestruck look that’s not lost on your fellow crewmates.
“Look at that look in her eyes, it’s probably crushing his poor heart!” Nami whispers to Usopp, gesturing towards Law across the deck, who was slowly strolling towards the kitchen.
“The pain of unrequited love!” Usopp whispers back, tears nearly streaming down his face from both uncontrollable laughter and empathy for the Surgeon of Death’s plight.
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Zoro barks out as he snaps his head towards them. They both point towards the doorway to the kitchen, where Law’s hat disappears into the room. “Don’t you two have anything better to do?” he asks with a sigh.
“Nope!” Nami chirps, informing him that their course was securely set, and that the schadenfreude she and Usopp derived from watching Law fight a battle he was doomed to lose from the start was the most fun they’ve had in weeks. Zoro scoffs, appearing indifferent as he rolls his eyes and makes his way towards the kitchen, but the tight grip he keeps around your waist betrays his annoyance and uneasiness as Nami’s words rattle around his head; both of you had considered the way the surgeon clung to you a bit odd, but hearing that other people had noticed it too had made the situation tangible, and suddenly makes Law’s presence next to you at the table unbearable—there was something unsettling about the fact that he would rather see the cook on his knees in front of you, pathetically begging for just one chance, than to have Law at the same table as you, let alone sitting beside you.
“Something bugging you, mosshead?” Sanji quips with a knowing smirk upon seeing Zoro’s arm wrapped around you. Frustrated, the swordsman doesn’t dignify him with a response; not in the talking mood, he removes his arm from around your torso in order to shovel food into his mouth and prevent any attempts at small talk. You’re engrossed in your own food, slurping up the wedding soup that Sanji had prepared for your lunch, ignoring the burns the hot broth leaves on the roof of your mouth. It was still far too hot for a reasonable person to eat, but as was often the case with Sanji’s cooking it was too good not to.
“Mmm…” you hum contently; the rest of the crew is used to your penchant to moan in delight when stuffing your face with a particularly good meal, but Law is unable to hide the way he stiffens like a board beside you as the sound that escapes your lips rings in his ears. “Sanji, this is delicious!” you say innocently, with glimmering enthusiasm, causing the cook’s lips to curl up into an appreciative smile and teasingly telling you it would taste even better if you had the patience to wait a while before digging in.
A few moments pass uneventfully as you scarf down the bread that accompanied your soup, until a sudden sensation running across your outer thigh causes you to nearly leap out of your own skin; peering under the table, the culprit is Law’s leg, pressed against your own. He’s a tall man, so the need for leg room would be a reasonable excuse, and scrutinizing his face reveals no outward trace of unscrupulous intentions; yet, at the same time he’s so transparent, unable to help himself from bouncing his knee alongside yours, as if desperate for the slightest bit of friction. The smallest of sighs escapes his lips as you lean away from the touch, confirming your suspicions; the realization makes you echo the sound, frustrated and disappointed that he was unable to be content with the friendship you were willing to offer and was instead so insistent on meddling in a place where he didn’t belong.
His behavior was starting to eat away at your last nerve, and evidently, Zoro shared your sentiment, becoming more possessive than usual when he makes love to you that night.
“Bet he jerks his pathetic cock to the thought of switching places with me…hah…but he doesn’t have the balls to do it.” Zoro whispers, panting into your ear as he snakes an arm underneath you to pull your waist closer; craving to feel your hot skin melt into his, he needs you trapped and caged between his arms, mewling and whimpering out a soft, pretty song as he pounds you into the floor. “He knows you need something bigger, don’t ya’, pretty girl?” he growls in your ear; it’s gravelly, possessive, and makes you flutter softly around him as you whine out an “Mhm… you feel s’good…” in response.
Lost and drowning in a haze of ecstasy, neither of you notice the soft blue light enveloping the room, nor the muffled, strangled gasps coming from outside the door as Law drags his hand down his cock, imagining burying himself inside you instead. For a brief moment, he does consider switching places with him, picturing the way your eyes would be blown wide with shock—shock that he’d fuck out of you until you’re drooling out the corner of your mouth and whimpering his name like a prayer. But as much as he desires it, burning up for you so much that he barely knows what to do with himself, he knows he can’t—it’s too twisted and dark; however, he can’t bring himself to dispel the room that he’s cast. He bargains with himself to come up with a justification to flick his wrist and take you that wouldn’t make him a monster—that wouldn’t turn you away from him entirely; it’s beyond tempting to give into his urges when one simple movement is all that separates him from the warmth of your core swallowing his cock whole. Choking back a groan as he fists himself, he wonders if, even for the briefest of moments, the mention of him made your mind go dark, fantasizing about having his cock deep inside of you. He wonders if he could get away with just a taste, switching places for just a fraction of a second—neither of you would notice a thing, and he would finally get his fix, and the opportunity to tremble at the tight, wet grip of your walls around him.
But he knows a moment wouldn’t be enough for him—not even close. He knows his length would be able to reach depths of you that Zoro never could, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to break you in, scramble your mind, and leave you unable to be dripping and wanting for anyone else but him. His wrist is twitching, wavering in tandem with his resolve; he’s moments away from tipping over the edge, the word shambles at the tip of his tongue, until a soft whining of Zoro’s name vibrates through the door, the word dripping with neediness and devotion. The sound leaves the bitter taste of bile at the back of Law’s tongue and his room falls apart, a crushing reminder that he’s alone, in a dark hallway that leads to the aquarium bar, jerking himself off in the middle of the night while Zoro gets to indulge in the comfort of your flesh.
Zoro’s name is hot on your tongue as he delivers you to burning red ecstasy, his calloused fingers rubbing circles into your aching bud as he ruts into you. “Need you, only need you, Zoro…” you murmur as blood rushes to your face, pooling in your cheeks as you pulse around him, mind shattered and vulnerable, only for him. The flutter of your walls makes him pull you even closer, sinking his teeth into your neck as you bury your face into the throw pillow on the ground in front of you and whimper.
“So good for me—you take it so good for me.” he mumbles; the sight of you falling apart underneath him lights a fire in soul that makes him give it to you harder—Law can hear the smack of his hips against yours through the door as he smears buds of precum across the tip of his cock with his palm. Limp and pliant as tingles of electricity continue to dance through your skin, you’re his, to have and to hold as he sees fit.
He knows your body like the rough, weathered palms of his hand, and in turn you know his; the intoxicating way he ruts into you, filling you until you can’t think straight, along with the tremble in his thighs lets you know he’s close. He holds you tight, the flesh of your back melting into his broad chest as he cums deep inside you, as if you’ll vaporize into thin air if he lets you go. The simple sensation of him wrapped around you is enough to get drunk on, and you silently wish you could stretch this moment out for an eternity.
“I love you.” you murmur to him as he crashes from his high, slowly regaining control of his breathing.
It’s soft and hushed, a raw rasp in your voice as your words blanket the room in an intimate sweetness, the kind that pulls on heartstrings so harshly that the rest of the world slips away. As Zoro echoes your sentiment, whispering a love you too in your ear and burying his head into the crook of your neck to savor the moment, Law selfishly twists your words in his mind, filling in the gaps and imagining them whispered to him instead.
“I love you, Law.”
Though it’s a mangled, manufactured creation of his own mind, he doesn’t care; just the concept of the words rolling off your tongue as you cry out for him is enough to make him spill his seed all over his jeans as he violently fucks his hand.
“I love you, Law...”
The words tumble in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull as he comes down from his high, tormenting him. He needs them to be real, to hear them spoken to him in hushed tones in quiet places hidden away from the world; he needs you to want him, to yearn for him, to crave him, to love him.
But you don’t.
You love Zoro.
At breakfast the next morning, Law stretches his legs underneath the table, lightly grazing his thigh against yours in the process; it’s intentional as it always is, the guilt and shame of his voyeurism doing nothing to dampen his futile attempts to sway you.
You jerk away from his touch, tilting your legs to your left, towards Zoro. So close, but so far, it’s infuriating enough to make him clench his jaw so hard he nearly breaks a tooth.
When you’re still hungry after finishing your plate, he quietly offers you the remnants left on his plate—he can barely stomach food at the moment anyways, not when he’s plagued with visions of you splayed out and spread open underneath another man.
Though he knows he can’t have you, Law can’t help but continue to give you his scraps.
#one piece x reader#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#zoro x you#roronoa zoro x you#trafalgar law x you#law x you#zoro x y/n#law x y/n#zoro smut#roronoa zoro smut#trafalgar law smut#one piece smut#one piece fanfiction#one piece scenario
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Aug 15 2023 - 6:08pm
Trigger Warning: Swearing
Warning: All people places and things resembling any real people places or things are merely coincidence and are not to be taken as such.
What is with nosey people? Like I get, being curious about things, but if i didn't tell you anything to get you interested why are you?
People in my life, making their way into my room to find out what I am up to. It's very upsetting that they seem to think they have a right to my life. They ask if they can come in. I assume to talk which is fine. But what isn't fine is when people walk around my room reading my calendar opening up my drawers and looking at every piece of paper available to them.
And when they don't get enough information from the l stuff I have laying out they start to poke and prod for information like I can't tell that's what they are doing. It's frustrating. They might as well have patted me down like a criminal. I am allowed to have secrets. I am allowed to have a private life.
If I didn't bring it up or even reference it in some kind of teasing way I don't want people to know about it. I am doing my best to distance myself from the toxic enmeshment in this family. But maybe that is why they are trying so hard to find out what I am doing.
It's not a secret that I am trying to find a way out. I have told them all I want to move out and live on my own. This is why my mother refuses to help me to learn to drive even though I will be thirty-two at the end of the month. Anyway to oppress me. I already have a hard time in so many other areas driving is the last thing that will make me free. When I needed to use her printer for applying for disability income she refused even though that money would have helped her out too in the long run.
But I find that if I do tell people my plans or even any small things about my private life suddenly what I am trying to do fails. I attempt to lose weight, suddenly I am gaining it. I try to get my license suddenly my mom is unable to help me for every reason under the sun including that it's "too scary" even though she taught both my other siblings.
I tell them my accomplishments they degrade me or ignore me or downplay my achievements or they turn the subject to them or try to one-up me. I come to realizations they tell me they told me these things before. Which most of the time isn't true. I complement myself they get upset as if I am accusing them of insulting me.
All they want from me is ammo. They want to know what I am up to so they can use it against me later somehow like they have done so many times in the past. They want as much dirt on me as they can get so they can fuck me over later with it.
Being nosey is fine as long as you aren't going to use the knowledge you learn for nefarious purposes later. Because of this family I cannot see myself trusting anyone in the future which is really sad to me.
Regards
TNL Barth
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Beyond ALL THAT WAS; 3D the page TURNS ~ 5D
Anyone that 'tests' you for any reason is not filled with the blessings of sacred honour ~
All is purposeful and all makes you who you are, however you do not have to engage, nor buy in to any group, any councils that stalk, test, and put you through hell to see how tough and real you are - the experiences are still true - however you choose the standards of the tribe you want to engage with -
Honouring my experiences and who I am, and need not to prove or tell, or show anyone anything to be believed as me; I am not asking for such, those that choose to spell cast torment to see if someone is real or special is harassment and is not a joke;
Humiliation rituals, cult-like vibrational torment is not sacred of the soul and however some inner divine strength is needed to survive; we are also not barbaric and also too is filled with corruption and nefarious activities that play on ego, arrogance of the spirit, and disconnection of the spirit - for spirit never has to prove anything - nor ever will;
If Jesus and Buddha are sitting together -= offering wisdom, love, healing for the group, only ignorance would ask them 'prove that you are real and which one is more powerful'
This is ego, old gods lack and no sense of inner self defining and what others want to compete and prove; so all is wounding -
Celestial, alien, Source, Essence of God, the Mother and Father is eternal to new codes, new earth, new hybrid and I go by many energies and names and beings; I am not little and small and feel release of all those that think they know me more and better than I do, nor what I see or experience and nor will I be any ring-leader of those that want to lead through punishment or humiliation and the mean-girls guy clubs mentality - #sound #intelligence #wisdoms #ascension
All new cycles of life, are bathed in new light codes that help birth new generation of diversity - new templates from the ancient to new now; solar energy and codes therein, bringing new Metatronic activations in our light body, Merkabah, DNA, that transcend all things before - of 3D - all is transcending - be open, be soft, be embracing of change - stagnancy of old limitations, and less than, and more over another, winner/ looser, and all is being wiped anew; conformity is no more - unique and special, honouring sacred
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We are beyond are we not -what is your life showing you of such beliefs and degrading of what is sacred? It is choice and so too I am to me;
My life, my marriage, my love of Source, all life - all entities and energies are neutral and how one uses such Source energies; understanding laws, and entities and laws of alchemy is our new earth - join or not and it will show you - ignorance or knowing will show; occult, divination, tarot, spells, are all only a small facet of all the worlds of all worlds, realms, religion, rules, multi-verse - when you think 1 aspect of knowing is IT - there is a need to surrender and be a student - wisdom is always being a student - there is always more - within / without - Ⓒ
When you master all energies; dark energies, dark entities are all in the Godliness of all that is - Source is source and how you honour such all energies will play in balance with you - so that none over power and OWN another - we are beyond this and this was the lesson - many have to redo cycles and honour such; balance is everything; when you get and live by law #1, 2, you will move on -
If not - there will be a redo of 3D cycles -
5D is the all ness and how we see, perceive, spirituality and newness of all life - none have any idea the beings that are nothing like you and all belong and stable within the all of void, all being one, and yet we want and hang on to being, living in a box of a word and handing over power to others to define us and tell us how to be; I will not conform to smallness and dumbness - the corruption of being kind, caring, and honouring of all life and the relentless bashing on my energetically and through abundance blocking, love blocking - that is all returned - Source kinda made that made known; however you choose will be in front of you -
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Work as one and be in peace working with all beliefs and never bull-dose yourself into another's lane; leave all never interfere
Blessings of light and knowing of thyself
So funny in that which is so unique and 'out there' the systems, the matrix wants to know, peer, remote view to see what's going on and how can we get it, control it, and call it ours' - old world ways and know there is a grander plan and none are to be owned;
None have authority over me, or my consciousness and the sadness of those wanting bad for you when their spells and schemes and games bring them into what they wished for you - insecurity and control, dominance will be the greatest own beliefs of your own actions will be sent back; none control my receiving - to ensure that another has me in their life while they treated as if you were not there; total arrogant enslavement - I am not a slave
I am free, I will always be free, and Source will return the exact energy you all wished for me to be small and stay small under your energy dome of darkness -
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Those like me, are all - not a country commodity or place of seed; but all is - we will not be owned nor placed in a room to be studied or linked up and viles taken to be copied -
Look in the mirror dear ones; you are, as I am - Ⓒ
The within is simply not known; there is always greater life - what box do you place and work within - the matrix will be remade and harmonized anew to new; we are meant and will evolve and all will evolve in their own way, space, time, based on the integration of light; negativity slows down the integration of life, light, codes, the harmonization of your soul -
Therefore - you shut down the impossible and so on - will shut down your life-light - you make it all - or not
All is One
Joanna
For private sessions, webinars, classes or consulting ~
Email me at [email protected]
Human - omni- evolution, re-writing all aspects of our co-creative experiences through love, light, harmony of all that is sacred, always been sacred;
World Ascension Healing Classes, Intuitive Sessions, Healing Sessions, Ascension Books, Healing Systems, 5D human-socio-altruistic re-write ~
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#ascension #enlightenment #universallaw #God #Source #Oneness #unity #5Dearth #honouralllife #beyondthematrix #beyondgreed #beyondcorruption #healinghumanity #healinglimitation #healing
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I got a wonderful commission to share here today. I hope you're all ready for some ADORABLE shenanigans!!
MTMTE/Brave Police Crossover
The bots rescue an unusual group out in space, and make some unexpected friends.
"So, how are our new arrivals doing?"
Ratchet kept his voice rather low, but had little need to do so with the bots in question chatting away too eagerly to overhear him.
"Good, as far as they've told us." First Aid replied, looking over the notes on his data pad with an expression of still overwhelmed awe. These "Brave Police" truly were a marvel; earth made bots just as capable as any Cybertronian, complete with the ability to transform! Casting a glance back to the group, he had to pause at the sight of Drift chatting happily with them all, feeling as left out as everyone else did for the moment. Being the only one who had their particular earth language in his files, the ninjabot had been their translator from the moment of their unexpected arrival, though had quickly become amicable enough with the gathered group to start chatting away even when there was nothing to interpret. Noting that he technically had yet to speak to any of the new arrivals directly, First Aid amended his statement. "Well, as far as they've told Drift, anyway."
"We'll have a language download primed in just a few minutes, conversing will be far easier in short order." Ultra Magnus reassured the gathered bots from his monitor, finishing up the unexpected language program they had so sorely been needing. Despite the copious quantities of data they had on alien languages, not a single file on earth languages had been ready to go... Rodimus had been less than happy at the news. "A few minutes after that, the whole ship will have access, eliminating further language barriers."
"A few slow minutes!" the captain remarked in a huff, tapping his pede as he watched the loading bar crawl to completion. Casting a longing glance at Drift, he made no effort to hide the source of his impatience. "I should have been able to welcome these bots on board, I'm already late to the job!"
"Complaining will not make this go any faster-"
Even Ratchet had to chuckle at Ultra Magnus's expense when the monitor suddenly pinged to notify them it was finished, but Rodimus wasted no time rubbing it in, practically fist pumping only for a moment before diving in. Downloading the program at impressive speed even for him, the captain booted up the new language straight away, leaving everyone else to catch up as he hurried over to their guests.
"Hey everyone!" he greeted happily, loving the thrill of a whole new manner of speaking. The Brave Police perked up at the sound of their primary language, which Drift had referred to as "Japanese", with the aforementioned bot looking especially pleased. Smirking at his friend in particular, Rodimus addressed the whole group as the bots behind him finished up installing the program. "Am I coming through loud and clear?"
Drift smiled, but looked to the blue mech that had identified himself as the head of their team. Even if he hadn't, however, Rodimus could tell by the way he jumped up and saluted that the bot in question was a natural leader. "Very clear!" he said enthusiastically, offering a hand to shake with impeccable manners that almost seemed to be made all the more charming by his boundless enthusiasm. "Though we've already met, I would like to personally introduce myself and thank you for the rescue."
"Not a problem! We were in the neighborhood, you know?" Rodimus replied, finding things infinitely easier now that the two could talk directly. As the rest of his own team caught up behind him, with Magnus giving him a pointed look of disapproval, he allowed the earth based bots to speak freely at last.
"I'm Deckerd, and these are the other members of the Brave Police." said the police bot, looking to his assorted friends and opening the floor for them.
"I am McCrane." a reserved but friendly mech said, giving a very polite nod of his helm as a greeting. "It is a pleasure to meet you all."
A far more brightly colored mech, of a similarly solid build, gestured eagerly to himself. "I'm PowerJoe."
"Call me Dumpson!" a bright red mech announced, flexing an arm to show off his impressive strength. Rodimus had no doubt the bot would be very popular at Swerve's, and almost didn't notice the source of the next introduction from a sparsely lit corner.
"Shadow Maru."
Drift looked immediately impressed at the stealthy mech's skills, but before he could say a word the next member was speaking up quite emphatically
"I'm Drill Boy!" he said from atop a medical berth, kicking his legs eagerly and bursting with so much energy one might actually miss the soccer ball positioned in his chassis. Every bot present mutually wondered if it was a design or an actual functional ball, especially Rodimus, but the topic was minor enough to be filed away for the moment. A red and white mech spoke up next, his tone so flat Rodimus immediately knew Magnus would have a new friend by the end of the day.
"Duke."
At last, a lightly colored bot chilling on an open chair spoke up, lazily offering a playful salute as he introduced himself. "I'm Gunmax, baby."
Rodimus knew, straight away, he had found his own favorite amongst the group. At least, this bot would undoubtedly be the one he related to most. Behind him, a grumpy presence cleared his vents and spoke up.
"I'm Ultra Magnus. Now that we are all acquainted, I believe it is time for some more in depth explanations-"
"Come on, Mags! These bots have been through enough!" Rodimus said, patting the much larger mech on the arm and ignoring the look of frustration it got him. Perhaps there was residual impatience from the language delay, but he had no intention of sitting through anything he didn't feel like. "Besides, I think we established the basics well enough. You guys are from earth, right? Human constructed?"
"Yes. We were in space to foil a criminals plot. We were successful, but had it not been for your rescue, I fear we would not have made it home." Deckerd replied, calling back to the shell of a space station they'd been rescued from. Evidently some human had invented a kind of interstellar travel for nefarious purposes, been stopped by the Brave Police, but not before managing to get them all incredibly lost. Looking to the floor, the police cruiser continued a little awkwardly. His request was wrapped up as a tentative statement. "That is... we are still hoping to return home."
Rodimus smiled, hoping to get the group comfortable eventually by being as welcoming and laid back as possible. Clearly they weren't accustomed to calling their own shots. "To earth? Hey, not a problem! It's a stone's throw from here... on a cosmic scale."
There was a small groan of exasperation, and Drill Boy hopped off the table, pouting like a sparkling. "Aww, do we have to go back right away?"
"Drill Boy-" Deckerd admonished, turning on the spot to face the younger mech but never getting a chance to finish.
"I agree with him, boss!" Dumpson affirmed, making their poor leader's face turn to mortification as he was quickly outnumbered. Power Joe affirmed the sentiment, gesturing to the medical bay that had awed them when they'd first arrived.
"Yeah! We've only heard rumors of beings like us, yet now look where we are!" he said, recalling their impossible wonder at furniture their own size being *everywhere*. The Cybertronian presence on earth had never been especially heavy in their home country, and with official information at a minimum, their rescue had been a discovery for both sides.
"We certainly can't overstay our welcome!" Deckerd countered, blushing as he tried to compel his fellow officers to comply. Far too polite to share his own desire to stay, the police bot flinched as Gunmax piped up, offering his usual level of laidback snark in a single retort.
"Then let's just stay until we're no longer welcome!"
"Everyone-"
"Hey, no worries!" Rodimus said, stepping in to rescue the poor leader before an argument could break out. Endlessly amused by what he was seeing, the captain was quite confident he spoke for everyone when he offered an extended stay. A quick glance along mostly affirming looks told him as much. "You guys are welcome on the ship while we chart a relaxed course for the blue marble, sound good?"
Deckerd flushed again, looking down and kneading his hands together as he replied. "We wouldn't want to impose-"
"No imposing here. Magnus, Drift, can you relay a message to earth so these bots can call home? Ratchet, any chance you can synthesize some fuel for them out of what's in stock?" Rodimus said, putting an arm around Deckerd and speaking quickly so there'd be no time to argue. There was thankfully no resistance, as Magnus appeared too resigned to offer any. Ratchet, however, had a quick request to make before anything else could proceed.
"I'll need access to... diagnostics. Our anatomies differ quite considerably, so if I'm going to offer care, I'm going to need more information." he said, likely recalling how shocked he'd been upon first scanning them and discovering no sparks. Not to mention their use of earth fuel over energon, or how they lacked transformation cogs, and that was to say nothing of their unfathomable processor design... It had been the first time he'd experienced surprise in the medical bay in a long time.
Deckerd nodded politely, gesturing helpfully to himself as he did so. "I can share my own, doctor. Theirs are based on mine."
"There, we all good?" Rodimus said, guiding the group of new arrivals to follow him out the door. He could tell these poor bots were unaccustomed to a world designed around beings like them, and thus he wanted very much to show them what they were missing out on. Plus, they deserved a bit of fun after everything they'd been through. "In the meantime, how about a tour?"
"Yes! Yes please!" Drill Boy replied, hopping right beside Rodimus and nearly bouncing on his spot. The enthusiasm was almost infectious, and the captain couldn't help but puff up as he pinged the doors to open.
"Alright, let's go!"
The entire group followed in short order, even the most reserved of them looking curious as to what awaited them. While the antics reminded him of sparklings, Rodimus had to remind himself they were incredibly young, so the comparison technically wasn't too far off. Considering that, he felt he owed them a good time. Drill Boy made that easy, at least, hurrying beside him with wide and amazed optics.
"Is the whole ship this big?!" he asked as they stepped into the hallway, turning in circles as he tried to absorb the entire space at once. Deckerd stepped forth to explain the actions of his teammate, though he was clearly quite impressed himself judging by the delighted smile on his face.
"Only our office is built to accompany beings of our size." he said, giving the Cybertronian pause as he considered living in a world designed for much tinier beings. Earth had seemed okay while visiting, but suddenly the thought of living there seemed... cramped. Judging by how these bots were marveling at a mere hallway, he wasn't wrong. Did the humans just expect them to squeeze through everything all the time?
Gunmax joined Drill Boy in appreciating the change of stretching out his arms high above his helm and looking quite pleased at how he didn't even come close to the ceiling. "This is way better! There's elbow room to spare!"
"Look! We can fit through all the doors!" Dumpson announced, standing beside a random doorway to emphasize how his bulky frame could easily slip inside. Rodimus had to fight the urge to chuckle at the sight, especially with how delighted every one of his charges appeared at the idea. Several even tried the comparison for themselves with multiple individuals beside a single frame. When they finally did go back home, he'd have to leave them with a parting gift of Cybertronian door technology. Perhaps even some blueprints for a building in their size were due.
"Hold up!"
A familiar voice made him stop and turn on the spot with a delighted grin.
"Drift!" he called out as his friend hurried up behind them, looking just as excited as Rodimus felt. The Brave Police looked equally delighted by the return of their initial interpreter, especially when he was offered a spot on the group. "Wanna help me show these bots around?"
"I'd love to! Magnus is handling the transmission message." he said, looking to their guests with a helpful smile as he explained what that meant. Not that he wanted to assume anything, but interstellar communication didn't seem to be amongst their skills. "You guys will be able to call home when we're done."
"Boss will certainly be relieved to hear we're all safe." Deckerd said, looking like the news had taken more than a little weight off his own shoulders. Exactly who their "Boss" was hadn't been specified, but from the sound of things they did admire and care for whoever it was. Which was good, because if there was even an inkling the humans weren't treating them well... Rodimus had his thoughts cut off by a polite question. "If I may ask, where did you learn to speak Japanese?"
"When I was on earth I spent some time in Japan." Drift replied happily, recalling how he'd explored the country and added the native language to his database to better understand what was going on around him. Thankfully he had kept it despite leaving earth behind, or these bots wouldn't have had a way to communicate their medical needs. Considering how flabbergasted the medics had been... that was an immeasurable blessing. "I've still got a number of other languages saved up, more for the memories."
"Can you speak English?" Duke said, surprising even his cohorts with the question. Looking a little flustered at the attention, the surprisingly shy bot quickly clarified with an addendum under his breath. "It was... the first language I was programmed for..."
"I'm pretty sure most bots who have been to earth can speak English, learning a language isn't too hard for us as long as we have a download pack for it." Drift explained helpfully, and Rodimus had to stifle a smile at how his friend appeared ready to take the bot under his nonexistent wings. Ultra Magnus might have some competition befriending this one, it seemed.
"Hey, what's a "Swerve's?" Drill Boy asked, pointing ahead and totally oblivious to the conversation they'd just been having. The bright neon lights on the wall and the bots hanging about gathered the attention of the entire Brave Police, and in an instant Rodimus and Drift shared a knowing look of anticipation. Hopefully, this would be the most fun their guests had ever had.
"The best place on the ship to unwind, make friends, and knock back a few drinks." Rodimus declared proudly, gaining the attention of the bots outside the bar as he did so. While the news of the "Earth made bots" had traversed the entire ship several times over, no one had seen them yet, and thus there was an immediate buzz of excitement. Rodimus hoped they were all ready to become very popular in a short stretch of time.
"Drinks? For real?" Gunmax said, quickly moving to the front at the mere mention of the word and looking absolutely ecstatic. "About time, I'm parched!"
"But we don't consume the same types of fuel!" Deckerd reminded them all, looking uncertain and perhaps, a little hopeful to be wrong. While he didn't actually know the ins and outs of their differences in fuel consumption, Rodimus knew there was a bot who would, and was banking on him to have already crafted something.
"Let's see about that." he said, somewhat obscure on purpose as he guided the group past Ten. Each one appeared to go through a cycle of intimidation to confusion when the big tough door guard said his single word and welcomed each of them with a wave. The inside of the bar was buzzing already as they squeezed inside, the newcomers optics going wide as they beheld the incredible activity thumping away to the music. Chatter only increased as their presence was noted, but Rodimus made it clear the group was with him and on a mission. He didn't want to unleash them to the chaos without loosening them up a bit.
"Hey Swerve!" he shouted over the noise, clearing enough space for everyone to gather beside the bar. The barkeep pretended to have just heard him, despite clearly having been watching them all from the moment they came in, and he stepped right up to the counter with a glowing visor. Clearly, he'd been waiting for this.
"Need something, Captain?" he greeted, still playing coy and acting as if he wasn't buzzing with excitement for the new arrivals.
Rodimus, ever the sport, happily played along. Having ensured the whole ship had access to the language file, and allowing everyone interested to download it at their convenience, he spoke so that their guests could easily overhear the conversation. "Not me, but do you have anything for some travelers from earth?"
Before Swerve could answer, Drill Boy secured a seat at the bar, grabbing an empty drink and holding it up as the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. By the sparkles in his optics it might have been.
"Deckerd, look!! Everything is our size, even the cups!" he exclaimed happily, sitting up haphazardly on the stool as if he'd never had a place to sit in his own size. Technically speaking, he'd only ever had the one, so this might as well have been life changing.
"I've got more than cups, I've got some mixes for you to drink out of them!' Swerve declared proudly, producing a bottle of oil based liquid that astounded the gathered bots. Having only ever had fuel for practical purposes, the very idea of consuming for fun was resulting in some beautiful expressions of surprise. Loving the reaction, Swerve explained his process with well deserved delight at the accomplishment. Dark, iridescent liquid that shimmered at the smallest movement was poured into waiting cups as he did so. "I looked at your usual fuel formula and made a few tweaks that should make it taste a lot better. What do you think?"
While each bot took their cup and drank with varying levels of bravery, there was still undeniable curiosity from every one of them, even the most cautious. Dumpson, Power Joe and Gunmax knocked theirs back like a shot while Duke, McCrane and Deckerd sipped politely, the rest falling somewhere in the middle as Swerve held his metaphorical breath. Thankfully, the results came in with incredible speed.
"Fuel can taste this good?!" Drill Boy shouted, finishing off his entire cup in a rush and leaning over the entire bar in a desperate search for more. "Please tell me you made enough for us to take home!"
"No wonder Gunmax always drinks it, this is amazing!"
"It never tastes like this, this is something else!"
"Is this why the Boss always drinks so much?! It can be this good?!"
Rodimus and Drift couldn't back some good natured laughs at the reactions, quite happy to have introduced the bots to some much needed fuel and a fun time at once. Swerve, looking like he was overwhelmed with pride and genuine emotion at the compliments, had to regain himself before opening another bottle.
"I made plenty! Plus, I can make more!" he said, pouring more glasses for his new group of fans as the rest of the bar quickly fed off the growing celebratory energy. "As much as you want while you're here!"
"Hear that, everybot?!" Rodimus said above the din, taking advantage of the segway to set the newcomers free to mingle and hopefully befriend a few more bots. He could already see a few potential takers now; Tailgate appeared to be bursting with questions, and First Aid had reappeared to do the same, not to mention Ultra Magnus and Ratchet were stepping inside... The whole ship had to be present, and thus he made sure to be audible by everyone as he issued a statement so informal it could hardly be called a command. "The Brave Police will only be with us until they have to return to earth. In the meantime, let's show them how to have fun, Cybertronian style!"
A hearty cheer rose up, and by the natural fusion and fission of social groups, the earth bots were soon surrounded by eager and curious Cybertronians acting like long lost siblings.
Rodimus was vaguely aware of a tap on his shoulder, and while he expected to turn and see Magnus, Deckerd appeared rather sheepish as he held a partially drunk cup in both hands. Speaking just loud enough to be heard, he asked a question the captain hadn't actually prepared for. "If I may ask, what is this "Cybertron" I've heard referenced so often?"
The query was unexpectedly heavy, but he answered regardless. "It's our home planet, and-"
Before he could finish, Deckerd appeared shocked by the mention of " planet", as if something had finally come together in ways he struggled to process. "There's truly a whole planet of beings like us-you?" he said, betraying the source of his wonder in a single misspoken word. Rodimus felt his spark, something he had to remind himself the other bot didn't share, ache a little in sympathy for the bot. One could hardly tell they were of different worlds, but for all the problems of Cybertron, it was clear to him who had the advantage. The Brave Police didn't have an entire species of their own, and their time here had undoubtedly made them a bit more aware of that. It only made Rodimus all the more determined to give them a good time.
"Yeah! It's a little rough right now, but once we clean up a bit you'll be welcome to visit." he said, noting that plenty of friendships would be made today to help that happen. Drill Boy was showing off tricks to a whole team of bots, Gunmax was competing with Dumpson and Power Joe to down shots, McCrane was having a conversation with Cyclonus as Tailgate watched with a glowing visor, Shadow Maru was actually chatting with Ravage, and Duke was indeed hitting it off with Ultra Magnus. There was no shortage of enthusiastic camaraderie to go around. Primus, he merely had to blink and there was a transformation speed contest, his shipmates awed at their shared ability to transform...
"I'm certain it will be fun." Deckerd said as he surveyed the minor chaos with a chuckle, optics warming with delight at his team having so much fun beside their newly discovered companions. Rodimus wanted to tell him that it would be more than fun. The Lost Light was wonderful, obviously, but there was a whole galaxy out there to explore! Hopefully he'd be able to convince them all to come on some future trips when they slung by earth again in the future. Maybe they weren't durable enough for meteor surfing, but they'd undoubtedly appreciate theme parks, virtual reality hubs, and the countless bars that lined the stars.
"I promise it!" he said enthusiastically, putting an arm around the other bot like an affectionate big brother. For all of his reserved traits, the police bot chuckled at the gesture. Beaming as a monitor and microphone in the corner caught his optic, Rodimus guided the other mech through the crowd, speaking over the noise as he gestured with excitement.
"Now, while we're still sober enough to appreciate it, let me introduce you to bot sized karaoke!"
#transformers#maccadam#mtmte#more than meets the eye#transformers lost light#lostlight#idw#tf#ll#my writing#kofi commission#commission#commisions open#brave police j decker#brave police#rodimus prime#deckerd
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sheer atrocity (4)
warnings: captivity, mild arguing
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After a brief break to eat and drink, Virgil was on the move. Again.
Considering dusk was quickly approaching and they’d been traveling or intimidating abusive dads for pretty much the entire day, Roman felt the pace they were setting was a little unreasonable.
He wasn’t the one walking it, sure, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Was this guy always so antsy, or was this a special occasion?
And while he was asking himself questions that he wouldn’t get any answers to, how long was the cast duration of this enchantment?
(More specifically, how much longer was he going to be small enough for beetles to look like dogs?
How much longer before Virgil decided what to do with him for real?)
He hadn’t seen the giant stop to recast, which meant that he’d been burning through a continuous enchantment for hours on end. Signs pointed to his magic reserves being massive. Chilling.
Roman thumped a foot against the side of the jar that rested against Virgil’s side. “Are we wandering around the woods during twilight for any particular reason, or are you just lost and too embarrassed to admit it? Too used to seeing the trees from a loftier position, perhaps?”
Virgil glanced down at him, as though just recalling he was there. Offended, Roman made a mental note to make more of his internal diatribes to external diatribes. The only thing worse than being a prisoner with an uncertain future was being an ignored prisoner with an uncertain future.
“Go back to being quiet, I forgot you were annoying for a second.”
“Absolutely not,” Roman huffed, kicking his feet against the glass repeatedly for emphasis. “The moment we see another human I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs.”
“Oh, because that worked so well for you before,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes.
Roman shifted positions, trying to ease a cramp in his leg. “Haven’t you heard? Third time’s the charm, and personally, I have no shortage of charm.”
There was a short pause, and then Virgil ground to a stop, taking a deep breath.
Instantly, Roman stiffened, eyes locked on the face above him. He’d forgotten himself, making jabs as though they weren’t enemies, as though he hadn’t been trapped, threatened, and used by this monster. It was too easy to pretend, when Virgil did things that were almost decent.
Sure enough, Virgil grabbed the top of the jar and lifted it from his pocket to be eye level. Roman shoved his arms out to keep himself stable, avoiding looking at the long drop below him.
“As useful as your bullheadedness was before, I don’t actually want you to scare the daylights out of the person I’m looking for this time.”
“Yes, well, I don’t want to be the size of a newborn chick, so it looks like we’re both dealing with struggles in life,” Roman snapped back, because he’d never known when to keep his mouth shut.
Virgil narrowed his eyes. “I could just muffle your jar, you know. I’m magic; I can do that.”
He could? Roman was sort of surprised he hadn’t done so already.
“But,” he continued with a sigh, “I think this one will probably be easier with your help. I’m not great at putting people at ease.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Roman snorted, and then jerked as the rest of the sentence sunk in. “Wait, hang on. ‘Put people at ease’? There is no way I’m helping you with any nefarious plots!”
“It’s not nefarious!” Virgil shifted his weight, glancing around impatiently. “And it’s time sensitive. Either help me or don’t, I don’t care.”
It couldn’t be that simple, but Roman wasn’t about to pass up a chance to see something other than the interior of a pocket. “Fine, but if I see you doing something evil, I’m not going to stand idly by!” And then, petulantly. “Also, I want out of the jar.”
“As long as you actually use your brain instead of your biases to judge me,” Virgil snarked back, but obligingly pried off the lid and tipped the jar on its side. Rather than pull or tip Roman out, he held his hand to the lip of the opening and waited.
It was almost more nerve wracking to climb into a giant hand willingly, but Roman managed it. The jar was whisked away, and Roman lifted to neck level. He stared blankly.
“Going to get off anytime soon?” Virgil asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.
“What am I getting on? Your collar bones?” Roman replied incredulously. “Wouldn’t a shoulder be better?”
The hand under him shifted slightly, angling him towards the folds of the cloak where it met the hood. “The fabric has better grip here. You’ll fall off my shoulder if we’re attacked.”
Attacked by who? “Paranoid much?” Roman dallied for a moment longer, but the idea of falling really was an unappealing one, so he climbed up and managed to find a seat amongst the bunched up cloth.
As soon as he was settled, Virgil set off again, and Roman clung tightly, staring out at this strange new perspective of the forest. Weird, but definitely better than the jar.
They moved along in relative silence, Virgil surprisingly light on his feet for a giant. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon when he finally jerked to a halt.
Roman opened his mouth to complain at the sudden stop, but Virgil’s head was tilted, as though carefully listening. After a moment, he turned to a nearby patch of shrubbery.
“Hey,” he called, voice lacking it’s usual edge. “I can hear you over there.”
There was a long pause, and Roman blinked as the shrubbery began to tremble slightly. There was actually someone in there?
“Easy,” Virgil said, lowering himself into a squat. “I’m not going to hurt you. I can help you find the way out of these woods, if you’d like.”
After a moment, a small hand pushed part of the bush aside, peering out cautiously at them. Roman’s heart twisted at the kid’s face, smudged with dirt and tear streaks. They couldn’t have been more than eight.
Virgil shifted, and Roman felt a chill go through him, remembering who, or rather what he was with. He couldn’t let the giant lure the kid into whatever scheme he was planning.
“There you go,” Virgil coaxed, offering a hand to help the kid stand up. “It must have been scary, stuck out in the woods alone. You did good to stay in one spot.”
Roman bit down on the automatic urge to call out a warning, listening to the way Virgil carefully encouraged the kid to stand up and brush the twigs from their hair. This was important. He had to consider the situation from all angles before making a move.
If Virgil really wanted to abduct a random kid in the woods, he didn’t need to convince them of anything. He’d dealt with a trained slayer as though he was a minor annoyance, a kid wasn’t exactly a challenge. So why was he going to all this trouble?
Roman thought about the soft edges of Virgil’s expression when he gave Patton his coat back. Maybe… it wasn’t a ruse?
“I’m Virgil,” the giant in question said, shaking Roman from his thoughts. “And this is Roman. We’re travelling together.”
Roman startled, not expecting to be introduced. “Uh, salutations!”
The kid stared with wide eyes. “You’re so small!” they blurted, before covering their mouth hurriedly.
Virgil cut in before Roman could correct him. “He’s a pixie. Likes to cause problems on purpose.”
Roman huffed “I do not! Don’t let him fool you, I am a delight.”
The kid giggled, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Roman wished he could see his expression.
From there it was second nature to keep up a stream of chatter with the kid about everything from their favorite food (honey on bread) to their stance on frogs (cute but you shouldn’t kiss them). It grew darker and darker as they walked, and after the kid had almost tripped over stray roots thrice in rapid succession, Virgil had crouched and lifted them onto his back with ease.
Before long, the kid was snoring lightly, face smushed against his hood, and there was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the air between them.
Virgil broke it first. “Thanks for not freaking out. I didn't know you had it in you.”
Roman crossed his arms, ignoring how close he’d come to freaking out. “This doesn’t mean I trust you or anything. We’re still enemies, you’re just. Not as bad as you could’ve been.”
“Yipee,” Virgil deadpanned, shrugging his shoulder under Roman slightly to jostle him. Roman jabbed his elbow in the general direction of Virgil’s neck in retaliation. “Very gracious of you.”
“I certainly won’t be as gracious the next time you pass me off as a pixie,” Roman muttered, prompting a low, half-air laugh from Virgil. He realized belatedly that he’d assumed there would be a next time, and hadn’t been corrected. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.
What was it about this giant that made Roman feel at ease to speak his mind, even in such a precarious position?
Virgil slowed as they came up on the town again, crouching to gently nudge the kid awake and set them on their own two feet again. “You’re home, kiddo.”
“Don’t go traipsing around in the forest again, y’hear?” Roman added sternly. “Not everything in those woods are as nice as us.”
The kid nodded solemnly, and then grumbled sleepily as Virgil ruffled their hair and pushed them towards the paved path into town.
Once the kid reached the town's edge, they turned around to peek over their shoulder. The two of them were already well out of sight, waiting until the kid had been safely whisked into the arms of their parents before departing.
Roman waited with bated breath, but despite their deal being over, Virgil seemed to have no intent of removing him from his newfound perch. He sunk deeper into the fabric as they continued to trek on.
For now, he could let himself enjoy this tentative peace.
#sanders sides#g/t#fantasy au#ts virgil#ts roman#ts elliott#writing#my writing#sheer atrocity#sa#sorry this is late posting hours i fell asleep again
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Hello, everyone! Can you believe this is the third time I've started the recap for this chapter? Between a dying computer and a mass edit during my monthly state of, "Oh my god get rid of everything we can't let people know that we wRITE!" this project is cursed. This is the version though, I can feel it. Be positive!
Now, where were we? It's been some months (RIP) since I last posted, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone's forgotten what's going on in this insane novel. A quick recap before the recap then: new teams have formed, no one is happy about it, Sun and Velvet went off to a shady club run by The Crown and — shock shock, surprise surprise — got themselves into a heap of trouble. That's the long and the short of it. We have to wait a while to find out what happens to them though because this chapter is focused on Coco.
We learn that Professor Rumpole has sent Coco and her new team — Team ROSC — out into the desert to take care of the grimm around the city's borders. To say that Coco is disappointed in this assignment is an understatement. We learn that they've been at this for a week straight and have gone without showering or a change of clothes that entire time (no one packed a bag?), so for a second I was hugely sympathetic. You know this vine?
youtube
I feel this vine in my soul. Give me hot water and hot coco or give me death. Besides, work is work and dangerous, physical work without a break or basic comforts is incredibly taxing. Toss in the extreme heat of a desert and I'd be pissed at everything too, no matter how important my work was. That's human.
Yet instead of humanizing Coco like this, it turns out she doesn't care at all about the hardship involved. It's fighting grimm that she's annoyed by. She thinks that "Searching for the person or persons kidnapping innocent people for some unknown but dark purpose was way more useful than fighting Grimm far from the city" and I'm just like, Coco, honey...
Do you know what your career path is?
IT'S TO KILL GRIMM.
Okay, there's admittedly a justification here, but it's a stupid one. Coco goes on to say that "This area was called the Wastelands for a reason." She's snarky about it, saying that it wastes “her time, her talent, and her patience," but the real takeaway is that it's, you know, a wasteland. Deserted of grimm and of people. What's the point of defending an area that doesn't need defending? A huntress' job might normally be to fight grimm, but when those grimm aren't around and kidnappers are, that's a whole new set of priorities.
The problem with all this is that the Wastelands is definitely not deserted and it's definitely not as far from the city as Coco would like to imply. In just a few paragraphs an alarm is going to trip and Coco will find six grimm roaming in a pack. Then she finds a person. Then that person says she needs to get back to see someone in the city within half an hour. So there are grimm, there are people about, and this area is apparently close enough to the border that you can get back to the city proper, on foot, and then get wherever it is you’re going in a bustling metropolis... all within half an hour. By that logic these grimm aren't out in the boonies, they're right outside everyone's door.
Yet Coco isn't convinced, saying that "Post Beacon [killing grimm] had been for a noble cause, but this just felt like … busywork." I cannot possibly emphasize enough that this is the job she signed up for. Not to be a detective specializing in missing people, not a war hero always on the front lines of a battle, but one of many huntsmen who perform the daily, routine, very necessary task of protecting the people from grimm. With "protecting" covering both immediate threats and preparatory work that ensures more threats don't come about — like taking care of grimm outside before they become a larger threat. You know what would have happened if Beacon had a daily chore of students killing grimm within a few miles radius of the school? There would have been far less grimm charging a mass of unprotected students when negativity unexpectedly skyrocketed.
And, as always, I am aware that Rumpole is the likely villain here. From a writing perspective, this is very much presented as her getting Coco out of the way so that she can go about her nefarious deeds in peace... but that doesn't erase the fact that the task itself is a sound one. Rumpole's motivations don't matter here, only Coco's annoyance that she... has to do her job?
I mean yeah, everyone complains about their job to one extent or another, but can you imagine if you stumbled across a firefighter complaining about all the kitchen fires they've had to put out lately? "It's so boring! There are much better things I could be spending my time and talent on. I mean, that inferno that took out a city block last year? Putting that out was noble. But routine fires? House fires? Giving lectures on how to prevent fires in the future? Ugh, I can't believe the department expects me to do this grunt work." Meanwhile, you're sneaking off, hoping that this firefighter is never called to your house, nursing mild worries about how much they're romanticizing the recent tragedy that took so many lives...
Complaints about the job turn into complaints about the teams, which makes far more sense for Coco's character. Anyone's, really. Despite my insistence that it's a good thing they're learning to fight with people other than their three besties, that was absolutely a sudden and rather traumatizing change, just given how attached the teams already are. I'm not at all surprised that Coco is struggling to cope.
She says she misses her friends, obviously, but also "surprisingly, Coco missed being in charge."
...That's supposed to be surprising? Coco, you love being in charge! How is this in any way a revelation?
Apparently it is though, stemming from how bad Reese is as their leader. As with so many things in RWBY, I find myself disagreeing with a perspective that's presented as a fact: "She liked to lead by group vote, which wasn’t leading at all." Yes... it is? We could go down a rabbit hole of literal definitions — to lead is to direct, to direct is to regulate, to regulate is to direct again — but ultimately our understanding of a word does not adhere to the dictionary alone. It's a knowledge built on experience and I would hope that everyone's experience with the term "leader" includes that person considering multiple perspectives before making a decision. A leader doesn't impose their view on a group without due consideration of their preferences and needs — that's a dictator — a leader guides the group based on feedback and their personal knowledge. If that feedback and knowledge results in a standstill, or if their knowledge outweighs preferences, they are the deciding vote because the people have previously said, "We trust your decisions" through the act of making them leader in the first place.
Asking for a group vote isn't avoiding leadership, it's an act of leadership. Reese decided that these situations warranted a majority rule. She further decided that whatever they settled on was indeed an appropriate course of action. Leadership skills are required to assess a situation and determine whether it's appropriate to vote on in the first place. If I announce to a group that we're voting on whether we go to the movies or the museum, I've done the work to determine that both of these choices are of roughly equal value and roughly equal availability. I haven't hit on any snags like, "The only movies playing are mindless blockbusters and I want this to be an educational outing" or "The museum is too far away. We'll never make it to dinner on time." Figuring out that a group can vote is its own kind of work. This avenue is particularly useful when the group is of roughly equal standing. With a few exceptions (like Ruby and Jaune) huntsmen classmates are all the same age, underwent the same training, and have had the same combat experiences. This isn't a case of one elite huntsmen lending their knowledge to an otherwise green party, it's a school randomly pointing at a somewhat outgoing individual during orientation and saying, "You. You're leader material, I guess, even though you've done little differently than the person standing beside you." Someone has to lead and Vacuo's switcheroo proves that anyone can be the leader if they're just put in that position. Coco claims a group vote is just "passing the responsibility off to your team" and yes! You want to share the responsibility because you are a team. They are a group of four equals working together with one person to guide them, they are not a boss with three subordinates. Why wouldn't Reese utilize the skills and ideas of those teammates? When making a decision, why wouldn't she see if everyone believes it's a good idea to do Thing A as opposed to Thing B? Unless Reese is outright ignoring her own ideas, beliefs, or gut feelings to cater to the others — which there's no reference of — this is good leadership. She's assisting her team in making decisions as a whole, rather than arbitrarily imposing her view on three others of similar skill and experience.
Yet Coco acts like because Reese doesn't go, "We're doing Thing A! End of discussion!" it's not leadership. Which, frankly, says a lot about how the RWBY-verse sees leadership as a whole.
I realize I'm rambling a great deal, so let me quickly provide a different media example. I'm currently immersed in Star Trek: Voyager and in season two, episode 14 "Alliances," Captain Janeway is faced with a difficult choice: align herself with a violent and so far untrustworthy species, or risk traveling through this quadrant of space without any allies. At first she's entirely against the idea of an alliance, going so far as to say that this isn't a democracy. She's the captain, dammit, she makes the decisions! But her first officer begs her to reconsider. Then the crew express disappointment — even disgust — that she won't consider this alternative. Then her chief of security, being a Vulcan, provides a persuasively logical argument for why an alliance is worth the risk... Long story short, Janeway finds herself in the minority and changes her decision accordingly. She attempts to garner an alliance and the fact that she was right — the species wasn't trustworthy and the alliance fails — is entirely beside the point. She realized that the majority voice matters. As far as we know, Reese is already practicing what Janeway learned.
ANYWAY the point is none of it matters because these characterizations are a mess. Coco also throws out that Reese "dressed like she was a twelve-year-old hanging out at the mall" and supposedly acts like one too. We're not given any examples of what that behavior looks like and, sorry, but I'm not personally inclined to judge someone based on their fashion sense. It would be great if this story actually engaged with some of the flaws the characters demonstrated, rather than just throwing them out to exist in this unacknowledged void.
Not that Coco's fashion-focused personality is really that important. Truly, the best thing about all this is how contradictory Coco's own thoughts are. She also listens to her teammates... except when she doesn't. She know when to go with their ideas and when to dismiss them for her own... except when she gets it totally wrong. As with so much in RWBY, this doesn't feel like the author giving Coco deliberate flaws that the story will grapple with down the line, it just comes across as a nonsense philosophy about leadership we're not meant to examine too closely. Coco gets to make references to the fact that her own, supposedly superior leadership is filled with holes, but heaven forbid she engage with that.
She ends all this with the thought that no matter what she might decide, she trusted her team to "do what she demanded of them” and is now extending that courtesy to Reese. This I'm inclined to praise Coco for. No matter what she might be thinking, it doesn't appear as if she's tried to undermine Reese (well, not yet. More on that at the chapter’s end), and she doesn’t appear to be refusing to listen to that leadership, even if she doesn't like how it comes about. As we're about to see, Coco has her team's best interests at heart, no matter the challenges they're facing.
Her thoughts turn back to her old team and we get... this.
Velvet was with a team that didn’t recognize her awesome capabilities. Fox was withdrawing, having lost his family for the second time. Yatsuhashi was going mad with worry about Velvet and his teammates, knowing that he couldn’t be there to protect them, and worrying he would accidentally hurt someone on his new team.
This is so unnecessarily dramatic. First, how does Coco even know any of this? Because it's been heavily implied that the old teams are barely in contact with one another. See: Velvet refusing to loop anyone in about the club and Coco stuck in the desert for a week. Second, why aren't they in contact, at least those who aren't on away missions? The entire group is acting as if changing teams means they're no longer allowed to be friends — family, as Coco puts it — when the relationship between Team RWBY and Team JNPR creates the opposite expectation right at the start of the series. Clearly, people from different teams can be close. Yatsu's worry that he might stumble using his semblance with new people is the only conflict that holds up here. Everything else has fairly straightforward solutions. Velvet needs to prove herself to new people. Yatsu needs to text Velvet if he's that worried about her. And Fox "having lost his family for a second time" is a pretty ridiculous exaggeration. You're attending the same school! Your family is still living down the hall if Vacuo has dorms like Beacon! In what world are these students unable to interact largely as they did before? They're acting as if the school has outright barred them from hanging out, rather than doing what will no doubt occur the moment they graduate: force them to work with different people. Just catch up with Fox over dinner!
Honestly, this chapter is pretty short, I'm just continually bewildered by this story.
To get back to the actual plot, something trips a sensor the group has set up and Coco responds to the situation in what I think is both a smart and empathetic manner. Previous experience has taught her that it's likely just a lizard, so she doesn't want to wake up her team for no reason. Disagreements aside, she cares enough to let them rest — "They’d probably appreciate the extra sleep." However, if it's a "rare case of something she couldn’t handle alone" she'd immediately call for help. Great plan! It's not often in this novel that I feel like I enjoy the characters, but this little moment actually had me liking Coco. Which, yes, I realize is a complicated claim. Characters should test the reader to a certain degree, mirroring all the personalities we see in real life, including biased, mean, or contradictory people. It's often a good thing to write a character that your reader is frustrated with. That can be the point! The problem with Myers' writing is that it isn't the point. Coco, as the former leader of our heroes in this tale, should be someone we enjoy spending time with and her flaws should be the basis for growth, or an acknowledgement that she is an imperfect, but well-rounded person. As it stands, flaws in this novel just sort of... exist? They bop around in the RWBY universe with almost no acknowledgement from the narrative or other characters, leaving the reader with little to nothing to take away from the text. Is Coco correct in her judgement? Is this a bias she needs to work on? Is she putting on a facade and her natural instinct to care for her team is the real Coco hidden underneath? Who knows! She’s just frustrating to read about most of the time and nothing comes of that.
Regardless, she heads out into the desert, using the night vision glasses Velvet made her.
Now see, this would have been the perfect thing to introduce before Velvet was fixing relay towers after the expert was injured. Remember how I said the novel didn't do enough to establish Velvet's own expertise? Not that a pair of goggles is really comparable to fixing a communications issue, but it still would have gone some way towards convincing me that Velvet is this super impressive tech gal, capable of handling any and all situations that might come her way.
But no, we get this impressive display of skill after Velvet's knowledge was needed in a pinch.
The glasses help Coco navigate the terrain, allowing her to both see in the dark and zoom in on things in the distance. This allows her to spot the six jackalopes that tripped the sensor, as well as the woman currently fighting them: Carmine, a villain from After the Fall that I know nothing about. Ah well. Note though what I said at the start, that Coco's dismissal of this assignment is based entirely in its supposed uselessness. Yet now here we have a pack of dangerous grimm and an enemy to content with.
Also, this is where Coco moves from kindly teammate to overconfident fool. She said she'd call for backup if she needed it... and she clearly needs it! From what I can gather, all of Team CFVY lost to Carmine last time they met up. But now she wants to risk fighting Carmine alone? Go get the others!
She doesn't, of course. Carmine doesn't notice Coco at first. She's talking about how she has to get back into the city. "He’s going to kill me if I’m not back to the Mirage in thirty."
As said, this also implies that Coco isn't nearly as far out as she initially suggested. If Carmine can feasibly finish this fight, cross the desert, navigate who knows how much of the city, and meet up with the mysterious "he" all in under half an hour, then Coco is patrolling pretty much right at the walls. AKA, the area that absolutely needs to be grimm free.
Luckily for those of us who are reading the books out of order, Myers gives a quick recap of Carmine's significance. Last book she had kidnapped Gus and "held off the combined might of Team CFVY in the desert” (oh hey, I was right), presumably escaping afterwards. Now here she is again, likely up to some new, nefarious deed.
Our of curiosity, I googled to see what she looks like and...
WHAT IS THAT OUTFIT?
Coco watches as she works to keep on top of the six grimm, debating whether she should help or walk away, but when Carmine is taken unawares, Coco acts without thinking, throwing herself into the fray.
Sometimes decisions were like that—your body already knew what to do while your brain was still processing the situation. Only in this case, Coco’s body wasn’t necessarily the clearest judge of character. Her brain would have said that Carmine didn’t deserve her help.
Now see, this is a scene I can get behind. The entire RWBY-verse is based around a type of superheroism: people with unnatural abilities, fantasy weapons, and extensive training devote themselves to protecting the people from various threats. Yet too often RWBY fails to convince me that these people are actually heroic, taking the standard flaws of a character and unknowingly exacerbating them to the point where I think, "Is this meant to be a commentary on the anti-hero? Or a critical look at these fantasy formulas? Because we've got the elements of that here, but no indication that the authors realize they're writing something other than that standard story." But this? This works for me. Coco, as a huntress, is so conditioned to help others that her body responds instinctively to someone being in danger, regardless of who that someone is. She outright admits that if she'd had the chance to think about it she would have decided against helping Carmine. The fact that she recognizes this and move anyway says a lot of good about her. Well done, Coco!
We see later that Carmine probably didn't need the help, but between the two of them the grimm really don't stand a chance. What's interesting though is how chummy the two are while defending themselves. Coco comments on Carmine's tendency to talk to grimm (like she does) and Carmine freely offers information about her movements, the fact that she lost her other sword, and that her partner, Bertilak, needs to "recharge a little" before getting back in the game. Carmine asks Coco if she'd like to team up with her instead (she does not) and the two have a number of flirty exchanges to top things off:
“I’ve been dreaming of a rematch with you,” Coco said.
“You’ve been dreaming about me? I’m flattered.” Carmine winked.
***
“Hot date with the Crown?” Coco asked.
“Don’t be jealous, darling.”
I bring all this up not as a criticism of the buddy-enemy dynamic (it's a favorite of mine), but simply because of something that happens next. Before we get to that though, I admit that I am on the fence about the flirting. Given that I haven't read After the Fall (assuming this characterization exists there), I know that Coco is a lesbian mostly via RWBY cultural osmosis, rather than through the text. This is one of the few (the only?) times that I've gotten a hint at her sexuality, yet it's associated with predatory behavior. Carmine, her enemy, is the one who turns an angry dream into a flattering one, the hot date with the bad guy into something to be jealous of. I'm honestly struggling to remember what, if anything, Coco has had to say about women in this book — this is what comes of such slow recapping and I acknowledge that this is entirely my fault — but I'm nevertheless discomforted by knowing Coco's canonical status, knowing RWBY's struggles with queer rep, and then reading a scene where the most overt representation thus far is the bad guy twisting Coco's words into something sexual.
I'm no purist. Give me a good enemies-to-lovers fic any day of the week, but that doesn't mean that kind of dynamic is the best to pull from in a franchise already facing heavy criticism for its queer rep.
Especially since the moment the grimm are gone Carmine turns her sai on Coco.
This is the "something that happens next" that I referenced above. It's weird to have them attacking one another after a whole scene of pretty genuine companionship. Coco doesn't help Carmine as a consequence of defending herself, she willingly gets involved. They tease one another. Carmine appears to answer her questions honestly. There's both implied and overt references to how well they work as a team. Then, suddenly, Carmine is outright trying to kill Coco, not just with her sai but by burying her alive. It's not the sort of banter that Ruby and Roman used to engage in, trading fake compliments and, in Roman's case before his death, legitimate feelings while attacking one another. Nor is Coco prepared for an attack the moment the grimm are gone, and she's not surprised by it. It’s just this sudden change that feels rather jarring.
Though it's far from the first time BTD has failed to convey the emotion of a scene. Here's another example rnow. As said, Carmine is attempting to bury Coco alive by moving the sand with her semblance. That's horrifying enough on its own, but remember that Coco is claustrophobic. Yet none of that panic shines through here. She comes across as indifferent throughout the attack, thinking back to summers when her brother tried to bury her while she sunbathed, amazed that she could ever consider this fun. You know who Coco sounds like in this scene?
At no point during this attack did I get the sense that Coco believes she’s in serious danger, let alone that she's struggling against a long-term phobia. The only time I even remembered that claustrophobia is meant to be a challenge for her is when she throws out the oh-so casual line, "One of her worst nightmares was being buried alive." Oh really? Because it doesn't seem like it! Coco is calm enough to remember that she used to be able to hold her breath for exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds. That doesn't feel like a character fighting against her worst nightmare.
So this scene isn't exactly compelling. Which is too bad because, as said, Coco as some other nice moments in this chapter.
However, during all this we do learn a little more about Carmine. Prior to getting trapped in the sand, Coco comments on how shockingly strong she is. "Carmine should have been at least a little bit worn down from fighting Grimm," but she's not, "She seemed nearly unstoppable now." Coco hits her full in the face, but she doesn't seem fazed. Earlier in the chapter there was that comment about how she previously took on Team CFVY alone and at the end of the battle Coco observes that Carmine "still seemed as fresh as she had at the beginning of the fight. How was she even doing that?" My basic reading comprehension skills tell me that this is setup for something, likely some change enacted by the Crown. Surely the text wouldn't put so much emphasis on Carmine's strength — have Coco questioning it to this extent, framing it as unnatural — unless we were going to get an answer, right?
But this is RWBY, so I'm not inclined to count my chickens before they hatch.
The rest of Coco's team arrives and it's then that she decides to pull the super dangerous stunt to free herself. Yeah, yeah, I get that she's suffocating and needs to do something now, can't wait to be dug out I suppose, but the timing is pretty ridiculous. The cavalry has arrived, yay! Time to blow myself up.
Seriously. She blows herself up. Using her own semblance, Coco focuses on one of her gravity dust bullets and detonates it, causing all the others in her arsenal to detonate too. It gets her out of the hole and "knocked her Aura down to a dangerously low level."
So... let’s see. Coco can literally detonate a bunch of explosives on her person, after suffocating under stand, after fighting Carmine, after fighting grimm, after a week long mission, and her aura doesn't break... but Yang's does from a single Neo slash?
Okay, RWBY.
Reese and Olive try to attack Carmine together, but end up eliminating one another's attacks. I like that a team actually has some realistic difficulties for once. Coco, however, is internally an asshole, calling them "idiots" and saying that they need to learn to coordinate their attacks. Thing is, she apparently hasn't done anything over the last week to help with that. She's been too busy complaining about Reese's clothes.
Carmine runs off as more grimm show up, drawn by Coco's non-existent panic. To her credit she does thank the others for saving her... but then immediately tries to downplay that. “It wasn’t a fair fight,” Coco spat when Reese (correctly) points out that she's the one who was ambushed. She also starts giving orders and when Reese (again, correctly!) goes to point out that she's the leader, Coco talks over her, saying they can't waste any more time out here because she has reason to believe that Shade has been compromised. She needs them only because she's out of bullets and low on aura, but they definitely need her because "let’s face it, I’m the best strategist around for miles."
Coco's a strategist?
And why does she sound like a villain trying to convince the heroes to work with her? She’s already part of the team!
Putting all that aside for the moment, we're back to this prideful characterization. I liked the well-rounded Coco from a few pages ago who balanced caring for her team with the likelihood of needing backup. Now she's flinching from the idea that she'd ever need help (hello, Sun characterization too) and snatching Reese's role the moment she's given the chance. So much for respecting her position. If the book wants me to believe that Reese is unfit to be leader and this is a golden opportunity for Coco to right a wrong... how about we actually show Reese being a bad leader?
Regardless, yay working together? The chapter ends with them presumably taking out the grimm before heading back to Shade, along with an important revelation. Prior to leaving, Carmine asked Coco why Yatsuhashi and Fox weren't rushing to her aid. It's only now that Coco realizes she didn't mention Velvet. Why? Perhaps because Carmine already knows where Velvet is, which obviously doesn't imply anything good.
And that's the end of Chapter Ten! Can you tell I never know how to finish these recaps? Describing cliffhangers doesn't have quite the same punch as, you know, actual cliffhangers. You all just have to suffer through my mediocre endings with me.
But would you look at that! Turns out the third attempt at writing this was the charm! :D
See you for Chapter Eleven! 💜
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i want to hear 👀👀👀 it upsets me a ton when people treat nova like he’s evil hhhhghgh
I HAVE BEEN ENABLED.
OK SO. First of all, we don’t have any kind of indication of Nova’s moral leaning… in regular Super Star. HOWEVER, Super Star Ultra does give us an idea if you pay attention to Nova after Meta Knight makes his wish. Nova makes a very surprised expression, and one that I also wouldn’t say is a stretch to interpret as simultaneously worried. The latter point in particular is because of how you can see the white of his eyes, which generally represents a fear or concern sort of surprise vs just something unexpected. I mean look at him, if this doesn’t look like “are you sure? like really are you absolutely sure that’s what you want???” then I don’t know what does.
This is contrary to what an evil being would most likely do; obviously if you’re an asshole you’d want to just sit back and watch this evidently entitled blue bitch get his ass handed to him on his silver platter of a mask. After all, assuming Nova is evil also assumes he acts of his own accord in some way, and considering his level of power, it’s not like he’d have to be worried about his own safety in that situation we’re that the case. Basically, he had literally no reason to react like that if he didn’t care about someone’s safety besides his own.
Now, my second point is a bit more vague due to not being supported by dialogue or visuals but instead just understanding/connecting dots. Nova is, obviously, a clockwork star, and it can be assumed all/most clockwork stars function similarly. The only other one we see in the games is Star Dream… aka the Access Ark, considering they’re separate, but Star Dream is the sentient part, hence me referring to them in this case. Star Dream doesn’t seem capable of acting on their own originally; not until they take Haltmann’s soul and begin acting on their own perception of what would grant his wish to give his company prosperity. Even then, though, they’re still seemingly “locked in” to trying to complete that wish, even though they’ve not only become sentient, but can recognize that it puts them directly at risk.
Now, we’ve seen that exact same thing play out with Nova, in that he was still trying to grant Marx’s wish even though Kirby was killing him from the inside. Once again, to say Nova is evil implies he is in control of his own actions; if that were the case and he was just threatening Popstar because he’s a jerk and intentionally interpreted the wish that way, why not stop and interpret it a different way? After all the entire basis of this kind of morality requires him putting his own mean-spirited spin on the wish being made, so it’s not like he wouldn’t already have been just finding a way to bend it. Obviously an all-powerful asshole would not be able to continue being like that if they can’t also act in self-preservation when things go wrong.
That leads into my third point; based on what we’ve seen of Nova, he is at the very least not just self-centered(as he showed concern), and he evidently isn’t acting based on his own decisions, but rather his programming or equivalent. The latter point makes it difficult to realistically make him out to be evil, seeing as we haven’t seen him do anything evil that was his own choice. That’d be like saying a gun is evil because it was used to shoot someone. Both of those points do lend themselves to the neutral spectrum very easily; he does what he’s told, and doesn’t question it. If you want to be boring this is where you can easily ignore his obvious reaction and go “he’s not sentient”, and if you do that you get the bonus of knowing you have greatly disappointed at least one person. Also tbh the same goes for the evil interpretation imo; there’s literally so many characters like that already, ‘jackass genies’ is literally a trope. Why not do something new and interesting?
On that note, the first point also allows the argument that he could be on the good spectrum(not chaotic tho) if you squint really hard and overthink his one moment of expressed emotion. It’s a pretty tragic concept that I am admittedly extremely biased towards for reasons, but what if Nova is good, yet can’t refuse to grant bad wishes even if he wants to? Sure, he can be used for good as well, but someone like him would most certainly meet many more selfish people in his time(such as a certain jester) than good folks. It’s a lot easier to wish for money or power than for peace or comfort. It’d be like being a pacifist sword, to be honest; sure, maybe one guy would use you to make watermelon slices for kids or something, but most people would use you to do harm, and you have no control over that.
I’m sure that would get exhausting… Might explain his eternally tired look. Just waiting for the next summoning and hoping whoever gathers the stars isn’t doing so for nefarious reasons, but having no say either way. Finally some guy shows up and seems the noble sort, and then he makes the most dangerous wish imaginable. Despite how he’s become so accustomed to disappointment that he doesn’t even react anymore, because yeah yeah ok planet dominator #5018 it would be my luck that I meet someone else like you this summoning, he doesn’t hide his shock. Like damn this guy might straight up have his face impaled by a lance in the next two minutes, he knows that right? But no matter what happens, Nova can’t do anything about it.
Anyways because I want to try and reel this in somewhat, my last tiny point is that Nova is never fought directly. Star Dream Soul OS(the Access Ark part) has a whole external battle, an internal one with the pillars, and then the heart also attacks you directly. Nova? Nothing. He’s got some separate internal defenses that he probably doesn’t control (patas, volms, and dacoogas), but other than that you literally just break all of this old man’s ribs and subsequently induce a heart attack and paralysis. Nova never attacks or directly fights back, and Kirby never fights him face-to-face. I personally interpret this as Nova using what little control he does have to make himself easier to stop, even at the cost of his own life, because he never wanted to do something evil in the first place.
Actually I just thought of one other potential point. It’s at least sorta implied Nova was the one used to seal Galacta Knight. If that’s the case, why would he have been trusted to do so if he twisted wishes in purposely bad ways? Like that’s just an obviously terrible idea. Sure let’s leave someone who enjoys the suffering of others to keep this dangerous guy locked up, I’m sure nothing bad could come of that. Famous last words right there.
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Stuck Together
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Rip and John need some help to break a curse leading them to Miranda. But will Rip's newly re-established relationship with her survive.
Author’s Note: Rip Week Day 2: “Have you two considered couples counselling?” – Who should Rip be with and do they need counselling to stay together? Or it’s not romantic help he needs but a different kind of counselling. Over to you.
Enjoy.
*********************************************
“Have you two considered couples counselling?”
The two men standing in her living room stopped arguing at the question and turned to where Miranda stood watching them with an amused smile.
“Okay,” she said, as silence had finally descended, “Now I have your attention one of you, and only one,” she cut them off sharply, “Tell me exactly what happened?”
Rip and John shared a look with John finally conceding to let the other man speak. They were here to get his girlfriend’s help after all.
“I was sent to retrieve a book that went missing when it wasn’t supposed to,” Rip explained, “It needs to be returned to the Cairo Museum so that it can be stolen at the correct time.”
Miranda nodded, “Since John Constantine is here, I’m assuming this book has a supernatural connection.”
“It’s a text for summoning creatures from the underworld, amongst other things,” John explained, “I heard it was being sold so thought I would see if I could pick it up and get it out of the hands of anyone who could use it for ‘nefarious purposes’.”
“Okay,” Miranda said, “So, how did it go from a simple retrieval to what happened?”
The two men looked at one another and Rip sighed, “There was an unforeseen complication.”
Rip checked his weapons before asking, “Anything?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain,” Gideon replied, “Mr Constantine isn’t answering his phone.”
“Honestly,” Rip shook his head frustrated, “The one time I actually need his help and I can’t get a hold of him.”
“It is possible that Mr Constantine will be at the sale,” Gideon reminded him, “Considering the item is something he would be interested in.”
Rip nodded, “You’re right. Okay, I am ready. Are you detecting anything I should know about?”
“Not currently,” Gideon replied, “However magic is not always something my sensors can detect.”
“I can always hope,” Rip noted as he headed to the cargo bay.
“Captain,” Gideon said softly, “Please do not rush this mission in your haste to return to Lieutenant Coburn. She will understand if you are not able to spend her birthday with her.”
Grimacing Rip patted the bulkhead, “I know, Gideon but we only found one another again three months ago and I want to spend the day with her.”
“Then you should go now and finish your mission.”
Smiling, Rip patted the bulkhead once more before starting out to find where the book was going to be sold. Heading away from the wasteland he’d parked the Waverider on, Rip walked towards the warehouse that was being used for a marketplace for those in the sorcery/magic business. The place was dank, dirty, and smelled absolutely disgusting.
“And to think I could be having dinner with Miranda,” Rip muttered to himself as he slid into the marketplace.
Looking around he spotted the auction he was looking for, along with a familiar face.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” John Constantine demanded when Rip arrived at his side.
“Hello to you too, John,” Rip replied dryly.
Rolling his eyes, John asked again, “What are you doing here, Hunter?”
“I’m here to collect a book called ‘De Spirituum Summoing’,” Rip told him.
John frowned, “What do the Time Masters want with a book of summoning spells?”
“To put it back in its rightful place,” Rip replied, “And if you ever answered your phone, you’d know this.”
John grimaced slightly, “Yeah too many people I’m trying to avoid know that number.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t put it on your business cards,” Rip reminded him.
Before the sorcerer could retort, the auction began and both men focussed on it.
“Is there anything specific you’re after,” Rip murmured softly as they watched several different items bought by the group around them.
John sighed, “I’m after the book too. It needs to be taken out of circulation.”
“Here it comes,” Rip said.
“How much money do you have on you?” John asked.
Rip smiled slightly, “More than enough.”
“Good,” John replied, “Because there is someone I recognise over there who might be after the book and can outbid me a hundred times over.”
“Did you win the auction?” Miranda demanded when Rip stopped talking.
John and Rip swapped glances before John replied, “Yes.”
“So, what happened?” she sighed.
Rip grimaced, “Well…”
“Where’s my book?” Rip demanded angrily after the auction as the dealer looked at him dumbly.
John sighed, waving his hand in front of the man’s glazed eyes, “He has no idea. It’s a spell. He probably doesn’t remember his own name right now, never mind who took the book. But I have an idea who has it.”
Rip followed John through the maze of the marketplace, dodging around people as he tried not to notice the strange objects being sold. They headed out the warehouse and saw the man who had been bidding against Rip heading towards a van.
“Oi,” John yelled, “Magor, you disgusting bastard. Where’s my mate’s book?”
Rip frowned as he got a good look at the other man, he was thin almost skeletal with yellowing skin and nicotine yellow thinning greasy hair. He gripped the bag he was holding tightly to him as he pressed back against the side of the van.
Rip drew his gun while John readied himself to fight, small ripples of fire flickering from his fingers. Magor stuck his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle, throwing it at John who automatically went to catch it, the flames from his fingers set it alight covering them in smoke.
“Bollocks,” John snapped, he ran towards the van only to be yanked backwards to where Rip stood.
Rip let out a cry of shock when John’s entire body slammed into him sending them both into the fence behind them. They heard the van speed away as they untangled themselves from one another.
“What happened?” Rip demanded as he tried to catch his breath, managing to stand he brushed the dirt off himself.
“Not sure,” John replied, smelling the air around them.
Rip shook his head and started walking the direction the van had gone, surprise filling him when he was yanked back into John, sending them both to the ground in another heap.
John grimaced after they untangled themselves once again, “He cursed us. The bastard.”
“Cursed?” Rip blinked in surprise before demanding, “How do we break it?”
Sighing John replied, “I’m pretty sure I know which spell he used, I just need to find how to remove it and…”
“And?” Rip demanded worriedly when John trailed off.
“Another person, who we trust, to help with breaking the spell,” John told him, “Do you know anyone because right now my list is pretty small.”
Rip hesitated before he nodded, “There’s one person I can think of.”
“I’m honoured you trust me so much,” Miranda smiled as they finished the story.
Rip shrugged, “Who else would I ask?”
Miranda took his face in her hands and pulled him down to her, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
John coughed getting their attention, “Sorry but I can’t exactly go anywhere while you two have a quickie.”
Rip blushed, while Miranda chuckled, “Alright, do we have a plan of any kind or is this a wing it and see what happens kind of mission?”
“A bit of both,” Rip shrugged, “Our best idea is to head back to John’s place so we can lift the curse and then we track down the man who stole the book.”
She nodded, “Give me a few minutes to collect some things and we’ll head to the Waverider.”
Miranda headed to her bedroom and quickly packed a few essentials for the journey, adding her weapons because, knowing her Rip, things would not be as easy as he hoped. Pulling a coat on, Miranda grabbed the bag and rejoined the two men in the living room, rolling her eyes as they were bickering again.
“Alright,” she cut them off, “Let’s go.”
“Welcome back, Lieutenant Coburn it is wonderful to have you here once more,” Gideon greeted as they walked onboard the Waverider, before adding, “Please remember not to smoke whilst onboard, Mr Constantine.”
John rolled his eyes, “Well, that’s nice. She gets how wonderful it is to see you and I get an order not to smoke.”
“Because you ignore Gideon’s rules,” Rip reminded his friend, “Whereas Miranda is the favourite.”
Miranda chuckled, “I will drop my bag in a room and join you on the bridge.”
Rip caught her hand, “My room.”
“Okay,” she kissed him quickly before diverting off to the living quarters while Rip and John continued to the bridge.
Rip slid into the pilot’s chair and readying the ship for flight, John taking the hastily erected seat at his side as they couldn’t get more than a few feet apart without being pulled together once more.
“Gideon,” Rip called, “Has there been any indications that the book has been used?”
“Not currently,” she replied.
Rip nodded, “That’s good. We are going to head to John’s place to review some research material and hopefully find the spell to break this curse.”
“A wise plan,” Gideon replied, “I do not think the Time Masters would be happy to have Mr Constantine as a permanent resident of the Waverider.”
“Neither would you,” John noted.
At Gideon’s silence, Rip chuckled, “Is Miranda on her way?”
“Yes, Captain,” Gideon told him.
The doors opened and Miranda walked onto the bridge, she’d changed into a much more practical outfit than the summer dress she’d been wearing before, and her hair was pinned up the way she used to wear it for missions. Taking one of the seats, she pulled the restraint down and nodded.
“Let’s go.”
John released the protection spells on the door to the Mill House before he motioned the couple to follow him inside. Miranda had a smile on her face as she looked around. At least someone was enjoying themselves.
Leading them into the main room, John gave a wave, “Welcome. Be careful what you touch.”
“I’m going to assume that includes the dust,” Miranda noted pointedly as she studied some of the items around the room.
He grabbed a few of the books he thought might help them and placed them on the coffee table, “Start with these.”
Miranda instantly grabbed one and her eyes lit up with interest as she took a seat on the couch. Rip took a book as well and sat at her side. John could see both the hormones and awkwardness between the couple.
He’d been stunned when Rip had taken them to see Miranda for help, having had no idea that the annoying Time Master had a social life, never mind a gorgeous smart girlfriend who clearly had him wrapped around her finger.
It was odd watching their relationship as it seemed in some ways to be still in the early stages, Rip especially didn’t seem comfortable being intimate with her in front of John but then there were times it was like they’d been a couple for long time as they had an awareness of each other that only came from years together.
“Okay,” Miranda spoke up after about an hour of studying, “I think I’ve found something. John, what do you think?”
Taking the book, he scanned the spell and nodded, “This is perfect, love. But…”
“But?” Rip demanded.
“I have everything needed to create it,” John told them, “The problem is because of the nature of the anti-curse, Miranda has to do everything.”
Miranda’s eyes lit up, “You mean I get to do actual magic?”
John nodded and Rip frowned.
“Are you sure?” Rip asked, “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“If she was doing it without supervision then yes,” John told him, “But I’ll be walking her through the entire thing.”
Miranda moved to Rip’s side and took his hand, “I’ll be fine.”
Rip turned them slightly in the hopes of some privacy, “Magic is volatile, Miranda. We’re already cursed, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“You do remember that I received the exact same training as you,” Miranda replied sharply, “Don’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“But?”
John coughed before they started arguing properly and spoke up, “Rip, it’s a relatively simple spell and with me watching over her, Miranda will be fine.”
“Not. Your. Choice,” Miranda stated, enunciating every word as she poked Rip’s chest with each word and Rip backed down.
John grimaced at the tension and clapped his hands, “Okay, let’s get this sorted so we can separate us then find the bastard who stole the book.”
Rip didn’t like that Miranda had to work the spell to separate him from John, but Miranda refused to even consider looking for another option. He’d forgotten how much she could frustrate him, how headstrong she was, and how much she liked to argue with him.
“Oh, this is incredible,” Miranda said as John sorted out the ingredients for the spell.
“The good thing about this spell,” John told her, speaking in a way to ensure Rip would listen, “Is that it’s not taking any life energy from you, it just needs the intentions. I’ll be the one who sets it alight to activate the spell, so it’s my energy. What it needs is that you care for, well I’d say both of us would be best, but at least one helps.”
“I care about what happens to you, John,” Miranda said, and Rip felt a small spike of jealousy go through him which eased when she added cheekily, “I need you to make sure Rip doesn’t get himself killed trying to retrieve this book.”
John caught Rip’s eye with an amused smirk before turning back to Miranda.
“Okay,” John said, returning their attention to the spell, “In the order I tell you, and during each step try to focus on whatever good points you believe Rip has.”
Laughter bubbled from Miranda, she tilted her head to Rip, who frowned at her for a second before giving in and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
John chuckled murmuring, “So well trained,” before letting out a cry of pain when Miranda kicked his ankle.
“Watch it, buddy,” Miranda warned John.
Rip smiled at her defence of him, while John rolled his eyes, continuing to tell Miranda each step. Rip rested his hand on his girlfriend’s shoulder, when John advised it would help with the spell.
“I feel like I’m tingling,” Miranda said as she added the final few ingredients.
John nodded, “That means it’s working.”
“What now?” Rip demanded.
“Miranda,” John ignored him, “Take each corner and bring them together in the centre, twisting the ends then wrap the twine around and tie it in a knot so it holds together.”
She followed the instructions and a few minutes later, sitting on the bench was a small bundle.
“That’s it?” Rip asked.
John nodded, “That’s it.”
Miranda laughed in surprise before asking, “So what do we do now?”
“John?” Rip turned to the other man.
Grabbing the bundle, John handed it to Miranda and motioned Rip to join him, “Miranda when I tell you, throw it at us.”
Miranda picked it up and nodded, “Whenever you’re ready.”
“Just toss it gently,” Rip spoke up, “It’s not a bomb.”
John chuckled as Miranda rolled her eyes, he took a slow breath and allowed his magic to come forth. Flames danced across his fingers and John nodded, “Now.”
When Miranda threw the small bundle, it instantly ignited when John caught it, smoke covering him and Rip making them both cough.
The smoke cleared and Rip looked at John, “Did it work?”
“You walk that way and I’ll walk this way.”
Miranda watched the two men slowly walk in opposite directions both waiting to be yanked back together. Finally, they were standing on opposite sides of the room, well past the limit they’d previously had.
“I’d say it worked,” Miranda smiled.
John nodded to her, “Nice job for your first spell.”
“Only spell,” Rip added.
“Spoilsport,” Miranda said as John chuckled.
Rip frowned at her, “Now we’re separated, you should take the Jumpship home. I’ll pick it up once we’ve retrieved the book.”
Miranda stared at him before stating, “No.”
“Miranda…”
“I’m not leaving,” she replied, “There is still a mission to complete and it’s clear the two of you need adult supervision.”
Rip grimaced, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Miranda stared at him for a moment before grabbing his arm, “Excuse us a minute,” she said to John pulling Rip into the other room.
Once they were alone, Miranda folded her arms and glared at him.
“What?” Rip asked worriedly.
“Do you remember how we met?” Miranda demanded.
Rip frowned confused, “What?”
“Do. You. Remember. How. We. Met?” she enunciated every word sharply.
“Of course I do,” Rip replied, bemusement on his face.
“Then you remember that I was not only trained the same as you, but my scores were always higher,” she stated.
“I just…” he hesitated at her glare before whispering, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Miranda sighed shaking her head, “Rip, I am more than capable of looking after myself. I can’t believe you of all people are treating me like I can’t.”
“It’s been a few years though since you left,” Rip reminded her, “And I have been working as a Time Master for almost five years.”
Anger filled her, and Miranda forced herself not to yell, “I am staying to help but after this…” she paused, hating the next words out of her mouth, “But after this, since you obviously don’t respect me, perhaps we should just part for good this time.”
Sadness and confusion covered his face, “Miranda?”
Without another word she left him standing alone.
*********************************************
John’s location spell had led them to a rundown house on the outskirts of a housing estate and Miranda wrinkled her nose, “Lovely place. Do you think they’d sell?”
John chuckled, rolling his eyes as Rip remained silent. They’d not spoken to one another since leaving the Mill House and John was getting to the point where he was going to bang their heads together.
“Well?” John turned to the Time Master.
“The scans are showing one life sign,” Rip replied, “Presumably our friend.”
Miranda leaned over and checked the scanner, “Do you think he has any more of those tricks up his sleeve? Because as much fun as this has been, John I don’t want to be stuck to either of you.”
John saw a look of hurt flicker across Rip’s face before it became impassive.
“He has power,” John replied, “I should be able to pull together a quick protection spell for all of us to ward off any possible traps in the house, but it won’t help against him.”
Miranda frowned, “So we draw him out to us before we go inside.”
“Good idea,” John noted.
“Miranda is an expert tactician,” Rip noted softly.
John watched a smile touch Miranda’s lips briefly before she remembered she was mad at Rip.
“Okay,” John said quickly, “What’s the plan?”
Miranda chewed her lip for a moment as Rip mused.
��Do you…” they started together both grimacing and Rip motioned Miranda to continue.
“Do you have any way to draw him out of the house?” Miranda asked John who nodded, “Once out here we set up a trap. Either magical or technical. Once he’s trapped, we retrieve the book and get the hell out of here.”
John frowned in thought, “It’ll need to be a tech trap. I’d need more time to make a magical trap powerful enough.”
Miranda turned to Rip, “What do you have with you?”
Emptying his pockets, Miranda smiled at the bits and pieces he produced, “We can set up a grid easily using these,” she shook her head, “I cannot believe you carry this stuff in your pockets.”
Rip shrugged slightly, “You never know when you might need it.”
Miranda turned away, smiling slightly and John rolled his eyes again, he did not have time for this.
“I’m going to check the perimeter,” Rip told them, “Just to ensure there’s nothing unexpected.”
John waited until Rip left before turning to the woman putting together their trap.
“I know he’s an idiot,” John said, not sure how he had ended up in the middle of this and not believing he was actually getting involved, “But he does love you.”
Miranda sighed, “I know. And I love him too.”
“But?”
“But I’m not some damsel in distress that needs protecting,” Miranda noted annoyed, “I can take care of myself. He used to know this but since he came back into my life…”
John grimaced when she trailed off, “He’s scared he’ll lose you. Even I can see that.”
“I’m the one who stays put,” Miranda sighed, “I have a normal life while he could be hurt anywhere in time, and I would never know because the Time Masters don’t know we’re together and would never tell me. I’ve more to fear than he does.”
John shrugged, “The man is a moron but maybe give him another chance.”
Miranda rolled her eyes, “If we get out of this in one piece, I’ll think about it.”
Rip knew he had to focus on the mission, but his mind kept wandering back to Miranda’s words that they should end their relationship. He couldn’t lose her again, he’d spent so long looking for her, missing her and now…
“Gideon,” he called softly, “Have you detected anything from this location?”
“No, Captain,” she replied.
Sighing in relief, he hadn’t noticed anything either and hoped to get through this mission fast so he could persuade Miranda to give him another chance.
“Are you still in Lieutenant Coburn’s bad graces?” Gideon asked, making him frown.
“Why do you…”
“Because I have observed you on all the occasions that she has been onboard,” Gideon cut him off, “And she does not normally look so irritated with you, Captain.”
Rip sighed, “I just want her to be safe, so I suggested she take the jumpship home.”
“Ahh.”
“What does that mean?”
There was silence for several moments before Gideon replied, “It means you have apparently forgotten how capable Lieutenant Coburn is.”
Rip sighed again, “I know she’s capable, but she shouldn’t have to be here.”
“Has it occurred to you that she wishes to ensure you are safe?” Gideon suggested, “Your relationship is not sanctioned and if something happens to you then she may never know. Perhaps you should stop trying to protect her and look at things from her point of view.”
Miranda glanced round to as Rip returned from his walk around the area, “Anything?”
He shook his head, “No. Gideon has detected nothing.”
“Good,” Miranda said, “And we have a trap.”
Rip smiled, “Nice work.”
Glancing up at him Miranda gave him the smirk Rip knew so well, the one that always reminded him that she was not only better than he was but that he knew it. It was one of the reasons he’d fallen for her.
“Alright,” John interrupted, “Are we ready?”
Miranda nodded, “Get him out here and once he’s in the trap you two retrieve the book.”
“Just like that,” John grimaced before closing his eyes and calling forth his power, “Let’s knock.”
Rip and Miranda watched John release the spell to get Magor’s attention and didn’t have to wait long as the man appeared before them.
He was even thinner than before and looked as though a strong wind would break him in two, but his eyes were glowing with power.
“Don’t move,” John told them, “He needs to move closer. His magic isn’t strong enough to get us.”
“Are you sure?” Miranda asked.
John glanced sideways with a shrug, and she rolled her eyes.
Magor walked towards them, each step bringing him closer to the trap they’d set. Miranda’s fingers brushed the button to activate the trap, but they needed him to move just slightly closer.
“You have something that belongs to my mate,” John called, “And he wants it back.”
“Or what?” the other man spat at him, “Because the last time we met, you and your friend lost.”
As he took one more step, Miranda smirked, “That’s because they didn’t have me.”
She hit the button and an energy field sprung up around him. Magor looked around angrily trying to escape the shield.
“Okay,” she said, “Go get what we’re here for.”
John and Rip entered the house, they could hear Magor swearing at Miranda, but she had Rip’s pistol in case he managed to escape.
“Got the cloth?” John asked as he slowly eased his way across the floor into the centre of the room, ensuring he didn’t set off any traps.
Rip nodded, “Just need you to find the book.”
John released the location spell watching it move around the room until it stopped at a cupboard. Before he opened it, John held out his hand and Rip gave him the red material that had been warded to allow them to carry the book. Carefully John lifted the book using the silken cloth then wrapped it, making sure the cloth was secure around the book.
“Let’s get out of here,” John told him.
Leaving the house Rip was about to let Miranda know they had retrieved the book when Magor’s continued attempts to release himself bore fruit. As the shield dropped, the man stepped forward to attack Miranda, falling to the ground when Miranda coolly shot him.
John stared at her for a moment before turning to Rip, “Marry her.” Before Rip could reply John walked over to Miranda, “Is he dead?”
“Unconscious,” Miranda replied, sliding the pistol back into the holster on Rip’s hip the moment he reached her, “Stun setting only. Did we get it?”
Rip held up the book, “Mission accomplished.”
“Good,” Miranda patted his shoulder, “See what you can do when you have supervision.”
With an amused smile she started back to the ship leaving the two men to follow her.
*********************************************
“So, Miranda,” John said as they reached the ship, “This is where I have to say goodbye. It has been an absolute pleasure working with you,” taking her hand he pressed a kiss to the back of it.
Miranda chuckled and hugged him.
“Give the idiot another chance,” John murmured before winking at her, “But give me a call if you get sick of him.”
Laughing Miranda replied, “Look after yourself, John. I don’t want to have to rescue you again.”
Shaking his head, John turned to Rip, “Try to lose my number.”
“Where would the fun be in that?” Rip replied offering his hand.
John shook it quickly before turning and walking away. They watched him leave before turning and walked into the ship. Rip instantly headed to the parlour and placed the book in the safe activating a security shield around it so that it was safe until he could return it to the museum.
Turning he found Miranda standing there and he sighed.
“I’m sorry,” Rip whispered, “I know you are not incapable of looking after yourself.”
“Rip…” she started stopping when he held his hand up.
“Please let me finish,” he said softly, “I know you’re not incapable, but I lost you once, and it took me five years to find you again. I’m afraid that I’m going to open my eyes and you’ll be gone again. I love you, Miranda and the thought of not having you in my life scares me more than I can say.”
Shaking her head, Miranda grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pulled him close, “You’re an idiot,” she laughed before kissing him.
They parted and a relieved Rip smiled, “I’m guessing you’ve forgiven me.”
“For now,” Miranda replied, wrapping her arms around his neck, “So, Captain Hunter it is still my birthday, and we have a timeship. After we return the book to its proper place, let’s do something fun.”
Kissing her once more, Rip murmured, “As you wish.”
#fic#ripfic#rip week#rip week 2021#rip hunter#miranda coburn#gideon#john constantine#Rip Appreciation Week
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Dance of the Black Heron chapter 3
In which Dorothea attempts to sort out how to teach Hubert to dance and words are exchanged.
AO3 link here!
===
"No, no, no." Dorothea dropped the spoon that she'd been using to tap out a steady rhythm on the side of an overturned crate, letting it clatter onto the sun-bleached wood. "Are you dancing, or are you attempting to recite chapter five of our tactics textbook to Professor Byleth?"
Hubert dropped his stance to fold his arms together. Twenty-five minutes into their dance lesson, and he already felt sweaty and overly warm in his uniform. The afternoon sun beat down on them despite the mid-autumn season, making him regret his preference for black. His long hair was already starting to stick to his cheek on one side, and he was pretending not to notice this. "I do not understand the question."
Dorothea advanced on him across the small room. Well… "room" was a generous term for the location of their private lesson. Hubert had spent weeks sniffing out the more abandoned corners of Garreg Mach when they first arrived at school. The monastery grounds were a maze of ruins, both above ground and below, and many of the abandoned locations appeared to never be included on the guards' regular rounds. Of course, he had always imagined that when he utilized such hidden spaces, it would be for much more nefarious purposes than practicing for a dance competition.
The size and dimensions of this particular building were reminiscent of the knights' hall, but whatever use it had seen in centuries past was long since lost. The wood roof had long ago rotted and caved in, and no door remained in the doorframe. But the tile floor, once cleared of debris, made for a smooth enough surface to dance on without risk of tripping, despite weeds pushing up between a few of the cracks, and the brick walls offered some amount of privacy while they practiced. The open door faced away from the monastery, and the path here was overgrown enough to dissuade anyone from choosing to wander in this direction, so he could be confident that none would be nearby to witness his humiliation. In essence, they had their own private courtyard in which to stage their lessons.
Dorothea took him by the shoulders and gave him a shake, even though she had to reach up to do so. "You're too stiff! You look like a waiter in one of those fancy Enbarr restaurants where they fold the napkins to look like doves."
Strictly speaking, Hubert had hardly visited any restaurant, in Enbarr or anywhere else. Restaurants existed for those who were socializing or traveling, or who did not already dine in the actual Adrestian Palace, served by the royal family's own chefs. But he had a vague impression of what she was describing. "And I am to understand that that is a bad thing."
Dorothea's hands flew to her head in a dramatic fashion. "Yes! The point of dancing is movement! You cannot move and be rigid as stone at the same time. The scowling doesn't help, either."
Hubert felt himself flush. "I was merely concentrating."
Dorothea pursed her lips sympathetically, but her voice retained some of its impatient edge. "Concentration is important, but you'll need to learn not to let that show on your face. The judges want to see a smile. Can you do that, Hubie? Do you know how to smile?"
With some effort, Hubert conjured the most pleasant smile his face could allow.
Dorothea visibly recoiled, her hands leaving Hubert's shoulders so she could step back. "Never mind. You look like you intend to flay me alive. Don't smile like that at the judges, alright?"
Hubert tried to ignore the sting that her comment induced. "I was not intending to be sinister." Not at this exact moment, anyway.
"I've never met someone who could be threatening by accident, but somehow you manage it." Dorothea threw herself back onto her seat and took up her spoon again. "Fine! Let's start from the top!" With that, she began drumming out a beat for him. With a groan, he went back to it.
It surprised Hubert how quickly the dance came back to him. He had not even thought about waltzing for years, let alone put it into practice. His feet still remembered the steps, his shoulders still remembered how to set themselves as though preparing to cradle another in his arms. The basic mechanics of it were really quite straightforward.
And yet he could feel Dorothea's eyes on him, evaluating his every movement. The steady drumming of her spoon on the crate provided a simple enough beat for him to keep time to, but it was a grating sound, one that reminded him with every strike that he was not simply one dancer among a crowd. He was alone on an empty floor, foolishly dancing along to cutlery. Could the entire school hear the noise? Would a face appear in that open doorway any moment? He felt horribly foolish and woefully exposed.
"Augh, just stop!" Dorothea suddenly snapped, the spoon slamming down on the crate. "Honestly, could you look any more miserable? You act like you don't even want to be here."
Hubert bent over to catch his breath, hands on his thighs. There was a reason that he devoted most of his energy toward magic, something that allowed him to stand perfectly still while still fighting with deadly force. "This may come as some shock, but no part of this experience delights me. I am here for my duty, nothing else."
"Really? You think I love being here, pretending to be happy about you getting chosen over me?" Something in Dorothea's voice broke. Hubert tilted his head up to look at her through the sweaty bangs hanging in his face, and realized that she was on her feet, hands clenched at her sides.
He stood upright, hands still clutching at the stitch in his side. Hellfire, was he out of shape. "Is that what you think this situation is?"
Dorothea snorted. "At least have the decency to be honest with me. You and Edie just couldn't have your class represented by a commoner, could you?"
Hubert would have laughed, if he had the breath for it. Instead he merely stared at her in confusion. "Where in Cichol's cursed name did you get that idea?"
"Come on, Hubie. We both know I'm the best dancer in our class. And you come to me with the flimsiest of excuses for why I wasn't chosen? That you need me to concentrate on learning magic? Dancing is a magic class! There is no reason I couldn't do both." Furious tears were pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill. "I'm not an idiot, Hubie. I know there are plenty of people who think I don't deserve to be here. And maybe that would be enough to sully our house's reputation, having someone like me represent us. I just thought you and Edie were above that sort of thing."
Hubert tried to work out where exactly this situation had gone horribly wrong and saw that he'd mishandled it from the start. He should have seen how this would look to her. He straightened his jacket and laced his hands behind his back, feeling that he owed her at least some proper manners. "On the contrary, the thought of watching you outmatch those pitiful nobles and inflict upon them the shame of failure that they have too rarely encountered in their wretched lives fills me with a joy that I rarely know. Yes, you are in every sense the ideal candidate for this competition, and the Black Eagles would be proud to have you represent us. Not despite your origins. Your unique experience is exactly what makes you so adept at what you do. You know what it is to hone your skill for professional use, not as some parlor trick. It was not I who argued against your candidacy, nor was it Lady Edelgard. It was the professor's preference."
Dorothea processed this quietly, her green eyes fixed on something behind him, her arms crossed defensively. "I really thought they believed in me more than that."
"They do," Hubert said flatly, not wishing to obscure the message with what might seem to be insincere reassurance. "Enough to ensure that you do not deviate from your aspirations. Dorothea, why exactly did you come to the officer's academy? Gaining admission while working full time as a Songstress could not have been an easy task."
Dorothea sniffled, giving a dismissive shrug. "Oh, you know. A school filled with Fodlan's wealthiest young noble bachelors? How could I pass up an opportunity like that?"
Hubert rested his chin on his palm, letting his gaze drift to the tall, sun-dappled grass outside the door. "If that is your goal, then it's certainly not the worst plan for going about it. In fact, I would call it downright shrewd. But of course, the fact that you would also be learning skills here that could be used in any number of positions in the future must have crossed your mind. A backup plan, as it were."
Dorothea snorted, though it came out more as a sniffle. "I mean, what gal wouldn't want to learn how to strike a guy with lightning whenever he gets a bit handsy?"
"Indeed, but you could have learned that in Enbarr. There are other schools, easier schools to access." Dorothea said nothing, impulsively reaching to fix her long hair, as if it were ever anything less than perfectly coiled about her shoulders. Hubert persisted. "I have read your application."
Her gaze snapped back to him, wide-eyed. "But that's--"
"Highly confidential, of course. I don't trust just anyone to have such free access to Lady Edelgard. I need to know just who is sitting behind her chair every day." It had not, in fact, been a remotely easy task to gain access to the academy's records. Hubert was still trying to puzzle out where the bishops hid their archives. Fortunately, Professor Byleth was not quite so paranoid about the files they were given, and so he had managed to leaf through the documentation on the Black Eagles. Would that the other two professors could give him such ready access to their own classes.
"It's also very rude," Dorothea muttered.
"I do not tend to concern myself with what is polite." Hubert felt a faint smirk tug at his lips. "Quite an impressive application, actually. Your test scores were average, but your essays were most engaging. You have a practicality that many others lack. You do not allow the big picture, as it were, to blind you to facts. You have valuable insights that our class needs."
Dorothea flushed, looking away from him. For someone who seemed to thrive on attention, she did not seem to know what to do with this sort of praise. She sighed impatiently. "Is there a point to all of this, or are you just heaping compliments on me so I'll drop it?"
"My point, Dorothea, is that you did not come to the officer's academy just to be a Songstress by a different name. The professor fears that making you a Dancer would send a signal that you are valued only for your appearance. That it would lead you to limit yourself. Frankly, I would be inclined to disagree, had I not seen you in action."
"They said that?" Her voice hitched a bit when she said it.
"That is what they told me. That they want to see you succeed as a gremory, a class that very few ever manage to achieve. Though I do not agree with our professor on every front, their instincts on our class composition have been largely accurate. Do not think I haven't noticed you studying the chapter on Meteor, a spell so complex that I doubt even Linhardt would be bothered to learn it."
She gave him a startled glance, but did not deny it.
Hubert nodded to her. "So I ask you again: why did you come to the officer's academy? If you are happy remaining as a Songstress, if you would be satisfied only to become a Dancer and nothing else, then I will gladly end this farce and accompany you to persuade Professor Byleth to change their mind. But if you came here to prove something, as I suspect you did, then I would be remiss to allow you to make such a sacrifice."
Her eyebrows arched disbelievingly. "Hubie, that almost sounded generous of you."
He chuckled. "Lest you mistake my actions for kindness, allow me to remind you that I seek only to ensure that Lady Edelgard's people are maximizing their potential."
"Right, of course. You could not possibly be trying to help your friends achieve their dreams the way you're always talking about helping Edie with hers." She was smiling now, even as she wiped at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. "To answer your question, I... I don't know if I have just one answer for you. But I do know that I have been around simpering nobles my whole life. And I would give just about anything for the chance to wipe the smile off their faces. And beating them at their own game? Learning the spells that all their fancy tutors and expensive libraries couldn't teach them? I'd like that very much."
Hubert smirked in triumph, and offered her a low bow. A proper bow, the likes of which he normally reserved only for Edelgard. "Then, Miss Arnault, I suggest a trade. I will help you reach your goal if you help me reach mine. Teach me to survive this blasted competition and I promise that all I know of magic is at your disposal."
Dorothea laughed. "Okay, okay, no need to turn this into the opening of an epic drama. Though... hmm. I think I have an idea of how we're going to present you now. You are actually quite charming in your own way, Hubie. There's no reason to try to cover it up with a fake smile."
Now it was Hubert's turn for skepticism. "Somehow I doubt there is much charm for you to find."
Dorothea waved him off. "Oh hush, you'll see what I mean soon enough. Anyway, we're focusing on your stance right now. Here, take my hand." She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder and held out the other for him to hold.
He surveyed her in confusion. "Does the contest not require each contestant to be performing alone?"
Dorothea huffed. "Yes, despite the waltz being a couple's dance. It's a silly requirement, really. But right now you're letting your nerves get in the way of your movement. You need to stop being so embarrassed about me watching you. So let's take out the audience factor entirely. There is nobody left to watch if we're both participating, right?"
Hubert sighed as his gloved hand took hers, the other resting lightly on her waist. "Perceptive, as ever."
She grinned up at him. "That's why I'm your teacher. Now, you lead. Teach me to waltz as though it's my first time. I'm a lowly commoner who's never been allowed to join in on such a high class dance before."
Hubert chuckled at her, pulling them into a slow, steady rhythm. Dorothea followed smoothly, exposing her lie for what it was. "Does that work on the brainless nobles you seduce? Pretending to be clueless?"
"Some of them." She smirked, unapologetic. It was harder to match each other's steps without music, but Dorothea was a professional. She adjusted to Hubert's pace, reading his body language well enough to anticipate his steps. "Good. Loosen your grip on my hand a bit. You're directing me, not pulling me like a dog on a leash."
"Quite the analogy."
Her head quirked in an approximation of a shrug. "You'd be surprised how necessary that comparison is. Far too many noblemen can't tell the difference."
"Not as surprised as you might think." He complied with her instruction, letting her hand simply rest in his rather than gripping it.
"Better, but you're still too rigid. You're worrying too much about what I'm doing. Dancing with someone is about trust. Which I know is in short supply with you."
"What gave you that impression?" Hubert tried not to stare down at her feet, certain that he was about to tread on her toes.
"I can't believe I have to tell you this, but my eyes are up here." She laughed at his startled look. "Trust, Hubie! You need to trust me that I know how to keep up with you. And you need to trust yourself. You know these steps, right?"
Hubert studiously kept his eyes on hers, realized his hand had tightened around hers again, and pointedly loosened it. "Knowing and doing are not the same."
Dorothea sighed. "Alright, stop. New plan. I'm cashing in that magic lesson right now."
Hubert let his hands fall away from hers as she stepped back, and tried very hard to keep pace with Dorothea's shifting moods. "I did not realize you were in such a hurry to learn."
"I am now. The wall makes a good enough target, right?" She moved to stand beside him so that they both faced the same direction, with only a wall of bare brickwork ahead of them. "So? What's the most basic Dark magic you know? What's the spell you can cast in your sleep?"
Hubert regarded her. "You are aware that Dark magic and Black magic are quite different, I'm sure. Black magic utilizes the elements, while Dark magic draws on something more internal and primal."
Dorothea sighed impatiently. "I have read chapter one of the textbook, yes, thank you Hubert. Show me anyway."
Hubert puffed out a breath. At least this would be a respite from his stumbling around. "Alright. The simplest Dark attack is Miasma Δ. It goes like this." It was easy. So easy to gather the dark magic in his chest. To draw his hand across his body as he muttered the incantation, feeling the cold sting of power spreading its tendrils down the length of his arm. To flick his fingers outward just as the magic reached them, casually lobbing a sphere of crackling darkness at the bare wall. The impact resonated with the magic's hollow sound, leaving a blackened scorch mark on the bricks. How strange that trying to dance had felt like wading through waist-deep mud, but casting this spell felt like stepping back onto dry land, as light and easy as walking on a summer day.
"Hmm." Dorothea experimentally moved her hand across her chest. "Like this?"
"Palm inward. Arm parallel with the floor." He reached over and tilted her elbow up a few degrees. "You want to draw the magic in toward your hand before you expel it. If you allow your arm to droop, you risk casting at the floor rather than at your target."
Dorothea imitated his movements, right down to a small flourish in her wrist that, strictly speaking, was not a necessary addition to the spell, but that Hubert habitually added on principle. "And your feet? Do you step forward with your right or your left?"
"Always lead with your casting side."
"Right. Of course." She practiced the motions again. Hand across the chest, elbow out, step forward, flick of the wrist. Again and again she repeated the steps, imitating him perfectly without the actual orb of magical darkness firing from her hand. And then she tried it again using the other hand.
"Dorothea, what are you doing?"
Dorothea flicked one hand in front of herself and then another. "What's it look like?"
Hubert crossed his arms. "It looks like you are being very smug."
She grinned, but did not stop her impromptu dance routine, working in much more hip sway than the original spell called for. "Don't I have a right to be? I'm finding all your secrets, Hubie."
He could not help the amused smirk that crossed his face. "I very much doubt that."
"Well I've found one, anyway. You are a good dancer when you're not getting in the way of yourself. We just have to draw it out of you. What is spellcasting other than a very precise dance routine with a purpose?" She did a careless twirl, her hair fanning out around her. It looked so effortless.
"Ah yes, deadly magical force is naught but prancing about." Hubert watched as Dorothea spun the movements he had taught her into an intricate routine that grew with each new iteration. Here he was, betrayed by his own lesson.
She came to a standstill, grinning in triumph. Whereas Hubert felt bedraggled and exhausted by dance, she looked invigorated, her peach skin glistening radiantly. "From now on, we'll warm up our sessions with a magic lesson. It's something you're already confident in, so it'll get you into the mindset you need. Come on now, let's get back to it. We've got lots of time yet before the sun goes down."
Hubert groaned, casting his eyes up at the treacherously clear blue sky, still shining bright with the low evening sun. If only he believed in the Goddess, he might be tempted to beg her to nudge it towards the horizon just a bit faster.
#hubert von vestra#dorothea arnault#black eagles#fanfic#dance of the black heron#indigo's ferdibert got me hyped to finish this part!
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Section 3-2: Amplification
Warning! The following section contains exercises that may cause exhaustion, fainting, dissociation, abreaction and cardiac arrest. No exercise should be undertaken without explicit permission from a medical practitioner, and mental health support may be required for exercise 3.2.5. The reader proceeds at their own risk.
Prerequisites: Exercises in 1.4, 2.1-5, 3.1. Additionally material from section 1.9 is referenced.
The first time my father sensed the Earth and his place in it, a soft dawn was breaking. He stood shaking and gasping for air atop the world's tallest tower, with a view rivalled only by God above. A thick carpet of cloud rolled out to the horizon far below him, the very real verdant lands of Yahhoi still present and visible in glimpses between breaks, and he felt relief.
He'd spent the night screaming in deepest pain and writhing on the indifferent marble floor. He'd flickered between life and death, battling the effects of a poison he'd chosen against all advice to imbibe. It was said that the poison would draw out the drinker's latent power - should the drinker survive the process. My father, at the still tender age of sixteen, was the fifteenth warrior to try and the very first to breathe in the morning's cool air.
In that new light he felt rather than saw life stirring, and he understood the interconnectedness of his own life with the Universe around him. For the first time he sensed a power through the ki-field: the overwhelming strength and evil intent of King Piccolo. With renewed certainty in his abilities my father set out to face down that evil, and the rest is literal history.
After enduring the poison my father obtained the ability to consciously interact with the ki field. Though he wouldn't learn to amplify his abilities with any measured and focused intent for a while, needing guidance from more divine or experienced sources and more powerful, urgent motivators, every one necessitating the honing of a particular element in efficiency or technique. My father's spiritual awakening was slow-going then, though that is not an insult to his effort - even the Monk among our ragtag band took decades to fully master his unlocked potential, and I know there are towering heights I could yet reach.
It is that endless struggle that ultimately gave me the confidence to include this chapter. My current proficiency and my promise to impart certain skills make the work seem simple, but I know I have reached this level with a genetic advantage and a range of thankfully unique life experiences. Yes, nefarious forces could use this chapter to escalate their havoc by orders of magnitude, but that is a highly unlikely outcome, as I'm sorry to say the majority of readers will never achieve a level of amplification that could cause any material damage. Instead I believed it more pressing to think of those curious individuals compelled to perform the "super" techniques covered in the rest of this chapter and beyond, and these skills require ki amplification to perform safely, if at all. And besides, it would never have been fair to keep from you a skill that is considered an Earthling technique at heart.
So whilst I am no God, nor a questionable feline apothecarist making my home amongst the clouds, I am able to employ more traditional teaching methods to improve your ki output with conscious intent, rather than resorting to cryptic life-and-death experiences. And so, in a more measured way, we begin to tie together many elements you have already explored.
Before we delve back into the ki field, I wish to return to the ki we already possess - genki - and the two elements that contribute to the total energy output: the charge (energy per particle) and the flow rate (particles per second). Increasing one or both of these will increase your total genki power output.
The easiest way to achieve a step-change in power output - although impossible for many - would be to utilising a transformation. Simply growing larger means more cells need to be governed, which requires more parcels of genki to be released. You can think of the size of the centre (and therefore the centre's hypothetical surface area) increasing along with the body. A larger surface area with the same flux (flow per unit area) gives a greater power output.
Namekians are able to physically grow in size and therefore power, as demonstrated by Piccolo (the Junior) at the 23rd Martial Arts tournament. This ability is a learnt skill and under conscious control. Saiyans can also grow to gigantic proportions taking on a more ape-like form as Oozaru. Whilst this is an innate transformation and so more accessible (for Saiyans with tails, at least), it requires the reflected sunlight of a full moon to induce, and the Oozaru form does not naturally have a rational mind. Mastery and use of the form is therefore restrictive.
Earthlings on the other hand aren't known for their strength-inducing transformations; the mysterious Shapeshifting Schools utilise magic and transformations in this manner do not appear to grant a power increase. The innate transformation magic of Giants, Manwolves and similar teratoidal folk does grant an increase in power, and zoomorphic people of larger frames will have a greater genki output than the average anthropoidal person, but anthropoidal Earthlings are not granted either of these advantages (by their very definition).
However, Earthlings of all kinds do have access to one technique that will raise the ki particle flow rate: the Kaioken. Against received wisdom I will detail this technique later, if only to emphasize the dangers of trying to learn this skill away from the healing properties of the Heavenly Realm. The technique involves warping the centre's surface, therefore increasing the surface area but preserving the effective volume, allowing more ki particles through. Performed with too much gusto this technique can tear the body apart cell-by-cell, so for those of us bound to the mortal realm, mastery of this technique could take a lifetime.
There is a trade-off to these size increases, however. The pool of ki particles in your centre depletes far faster when deviating from its natural surface area and size. If all particles are used up, you will be left without a way to draw on ki, and will have to rest for an hour to fully replenish.
A further way to boost power output and to much greater effect is to increase the ki particle's average charge. Again some species have access to physical transformations that can achieve this; Frieza's race being one, where various naturally armoured and therefore lower-energy consumption forms reduce the draw on the centre's ki (both in flow rate and charge), and these forms prevent the individual from overwhelming lower ki energy folk around them.
Saiyans have access to another transformation called "Super Saiyan", one that does not increase the size of the body, but does impact every cell, creating a greater demand for charge per particle on the centre. From the combined research of scientists across the Universe, including my own, we know the transformation requires a level of circulating so-called "S-cells" in the body. In brief (as this transformation will be detailed later), high levels of emotion in the body trigger the S-cells to release a message in ki to all cells, asking them to call for more ki in readiness, in turn triggering the centre to release more ki which manifests as a transformation with recognised stages.
The final way to boost your genki output is to use a different version of genki entirely. The Gods and other non-mortals appear to use their own version of ki that is functionally the same in nearly every way, though God ki is more powerful - the reason for which remains unclear. Curiously, God ki is undetectable by mortals unless they receive specific training. Given how parallel they are, I believe then God and mortal ki to be of different chirality.
Chirality is a concept we find in nature. It is woven into the very structure of our bodies, even. When we look at ourselves in the mirror, our mirror image has the same make-up as us - the same number of blemishes on our face and hairs on our head - but there is no way to spin you around to make you look exactly like your mirror image. You and your mirror twin will always be left-right flipped as "optical isomers" of each other. Similarly, some molecules can have exactly the same chemical formula, but the structure can be left-right flipped. In our bodies, one molecule we ingest can fit snugly into a receptor and work as intended, but the optical isomer will be completely ignored (or worse, cause unpredictable damage in the body).
Mortal and God ki then, with their dyadic relationship, can be thought of as chiral mirror images. Unlike chemical optical isomers however, mortals can learn to accept and use the chiral God ki, but it is not natural and so must be unlocked in some manner and developed.
3.2.1 Raising Yuuki With Kiai
Earthlings are Universally known for their ability to change their ki output without reliable access to transformation or divinely developed techniques. Their wide emotional range and social nature can be repurposed or redirected to drive that increase in power. For an instantaneous boost of genki, we can rely on our yuuki. If you recall section 1.9, yuuki (courage) is not a true form of ki but a mechanism of bolstering the flow rate, and comes from reducing fear to free up "effort" and ki-particles and therefore energy otherwise poised to react in a more animalistic fashion to the stressors before us.
Consider the question - "when we run from a bear, do we run because we're afraid? Or are we afraid because we run?" This truth is a mix of both. Calming the mind can calm the body, yes, but changing our physiological state can also affect very real change in our emotions too, which can in turn free up mental capacity for other purposes. Likewise, amping up the body can amp up the mind and ki in tandem.
In section 2.3 we discussed kiai, the guttural yell. We slowed our breathing, using the inward and outward breaths to create a rhythm that our ki synced to. When our core tightened to yell our ki flowed steadily with the breath, expelled with the kiai. Kiai also raises yuuki, as the steady, conscious breathing slows the heart rate, reducing the physical sensations we attach to fear and therefore fear itself, a calming feedback loop. We can then think of that freed energy as released in a short, sharp burst of "courage" instead.
To practise this, perform a push intent with and without kiai. Notice the increase in strength as ki becomes more dense when paired with kiai. Then repeat the exercise, this time explicitly utilising yuuki. Calm the body to begin with, and with the freed capacity of mind, genki should be easier to focus and kiai more effective, the rush of emotion with each kiai honing the intent rather than distracting from it. Practice these four states until you can sense the difference in power, both in quality and quantity. Throughout your practice keep in mind whether your yuuki is well-maintained or not. There is no need to be perfectly physically calm every practice, only to be able to note how calm to better estimate the strength of that day's intents.
3.2.2. Yuuki - Advanced Calming
Slowing one's breathing has the ability to start a soothing chain reaction through the body. But there is a shortcut - to hack our bodily ki intents themselves, intercepting the messages intended for the heart and other systems.
To learn though we must be quiet to begin with. Sit quietly, slow your breathing, and feel the subtle pulse of ki intent that ripples with your heartbeat. Not the ki itself, as that will be flowing through the body at a near constant, rippling with the breath and heartbeat, but the change in intent that drives the heartbeat. This ripple will track back to the upper-right of the heart (close to the body's centre-line) to the pacemaker cells which control the heart's contractions, and will spread from the pacemaker cells to the rest of the heart. These are the intents we must intercept.
Follow these ripples and imagine them slowing - I think of a soothe intent to envelope and slow the beat intent, and before long you'll feel your heartbeat begin to slow too. The other physical symptoms of fear will leave you as the mechanisms triggering them unwind, freeing your mind and therefore affording you yuuki to use for ki manipulation. With familiarity you'll be able to track these ripples when under huge mental and physical stress.
It should go without saying that upsetting homeostatic equilibrium is extremely dangerous. This technique should only be performed for a few seconds before you let the body drive itself again. I only ever use this technique as a kick to my system, like a full-body shiver to reset. Slowing the heart too much will leave you breathless, drop your blood pressure and cause you to faint. Playing too harshly with pacemaker cells directly could cause them to fall out of sync, triggering cardiac arrest.
The next question both the curious and antagonistic among you will ask is whether this same soothe intent will work on others to incapacitate them. The answer is yes but, thankfully, there is an inbuilt difficulty; these homeostatic intents written with a ki signature are so tightly bound to that person's subconscious that overriding the messages takes considerable skill. I know of one assassin using this method to trigger cardiac arrest, and the genki "injection" must be delivered with great, well-practised precision within close-range. Miss and the assassin is wide open for a counter. I do not recommend developing this technique both for the safety of others and your own.
3.2.3 Field Ki
Genki manipulation has its limits. We have a finite amount of genki (created from chemical (food) energy) and a finite number of ki particles to assign it too. So there is a maximum amount of genki that we can release in one instant and whilst substantial, it is most unsustainable.
Instead the most reliable, near limitless way to amplify ki is to increase the charge per particle by converting genki to field ki (banoki). In section 1.9 we discussed the ki field; how the ki field is a lower energy state consisting of a soup of decayed and garbled ki energy separated from us by a barrier of ki particles. In 2.2 we visited the surface of the ki field to read the ripples created by the ki of others. Now we will reach through that undulating surface to harness the ki energy beyond.
Find a comfortable and well-centred position. Lower yourself to the ki-field as when learning to read the ki-signatures of those outside of auratic contact (exercise 2.2.2). Feel the waves of others, those vibrations, and settle 'above' them. Remember, your spirit is tethered to this reality by its very existence, so it would take a deliberate act to cut that tie and fall in. I'd hope by now you would be familiar with this exercise and such visualisations would be of little use, but for now attend to the ripples to aid the next step.
Now, you must expend a little effort and genki. Let your mind follow your decaying genki down to the field and visualise yourself penetrating the waves' surface with a hollow reed of ki, finding your way between the surface of empty ki particles at the still spots between the waves. A through or part intent works well here. Your genki and the field ki energy will meet through the imagined reed. The link will feel tenuous at first, as both your effort and genki used in the process will render the exercise counterproductive in net ki, but do not fret - with a little practice you will break even and then excel.
Once the connection is established, you will need to gather field ki. Imagine the reed straw you've made growing roots, spreading through the endless sea of field ki below to efficiently fill the space. Imagine those fine tendrils reaching, your ki signature spilling out as genki converts to give a semblance of structure in the field ki. Then, suck that captured ki back through the reed, palming it into your very real hands. Retrieving the ki can be tricky - overextend and your fine genki root system will break, essentially wasting that genki as it breaks down far too fast. Spread too little and, whilst safe, some genki will be wasted, unable to touch field ki and convert. Take your time - the amplification will come. Aim to be able to repeat this cycle of reaching and capture as a smooth, continuous flow. When this convoluted process becomes second nature, amplification can be achieved with a simple boost or swell intent.
3.2.4 Storing and Moving Ki
At first, this mix of kis will be heavy and unwieldy to move between foci as your ki signature is weakened through the mass. The usually chatty and fast to react genki will take a while to send intents through the rest of the more neutral ki, the genki acting as lit touchpaper. The best way to manage this mass of ki is to maintain the "rootlike" structure of genki through the mass, enabling fast communication between genki and the furthest section of field ki.
To practice, focus genki between your hands and swell the mass. As you sense the energy convert, try to send the ball of ki from left to right between your hands. Notice how, as you continue to amplify (and at first even lose total ki energy during the conversion) this movement increases in difficulty, demonstrating that as the fraction of genki energy in the focussed ball lessens, it takes more time to propagate your intent from the ordered, ki-signature laden genki to the unstructured mass of field ki.
Notice too, that if you were to apply for example a push intent, the strength of the ability would falter at first, the genki now having to learn how to send out this particular intent as well as apply it to itself. You will be frustratingly back to those early days of learning the basic intents. With time and practice though your skill and dexterity with intents will return - and faster this time around. When you've matched your previous skill level across a variety of intents when using only a tenth or less of the genki usually required without field ki, you will be ready to move on.
In the heat of the moment more powerful techniques will require more ki than can be created instantaneously, necessitating you to charge up the ki intent. There is a fine balance to be had between adjusting your genki flow as and when you need it for amplification, versus letting your mind work on autopilot at a fixed conversion rate to over-produce ki. The former of course saves you energy, but the micro-management could make you slower to counter. It is therefore prudent to know how to amplify and store that ki for later. If charging and amplifying a specific attack, of course bring ki to the focus in question, but to be ready at a moment's notice to push, to explode upwards to fly and to guard, you will need to store ki in an aura.
The fundamentals of this particular technique were covered in exercise 2.4.5, but to recap, use your centre as a focus, but this time expel ki. The ki should surround you in an approximate sphere, ready to be gathered into external foci like hands or feet, to report back to you nearby danger, or to create a near-instantaneous barrier. Remember when charging to use a hold intent too, otherwise the genki, untasked, will degrade. This technique is named "aura-shoring". When performed at high ki energy densities, ki will spontaneously interact with the world, creating an impressive and intimidating visible glow around the body.
3.2.5 Raising Shouki
We don't only trade genki for field ki during amplification. We expend effort to maintain spiritual calmness, shouki. If yuuki is the calmness between mind and body, shouki is our self-assuredness, the calmness between mind and ki. The stronger our connection between mind and ki, the easier amplification becomes. As discussed in 1.9, disrupting this link by agitating an opponent through very incisive taunts will knock their power-level down considerably, as they will be unable to efficiently convert genki to field ki. Now we wish to raise our own shouki.
To do so we must get in contact with our spiritual selves - not necessarily in a religious manner, but to know and speak our own truth. For my father, his brush with death was enough for his young self to begin to attend to that spiritualness, but you do not need to go to such extremes.
Mindfulness, the ability to just be in the present, comes easier to some than others. Mindfulness is not the ability to empty the mind, for that can be frustrating to achieve as worries for the day pop in and out. Instead we must notice those thoughts, the emotional and physical feelings, and maintain curiosity toward them before setting them aside for the moment. This benign distance affords us the ability to take stock. Spending time attending to how genki moves through our body and the environment around us can also assist in this mindfulness process. It is a focus on the here and now, and is something we can do alongside other exercises.
Mindfulness however is not dissociation, where we disown thoughts and experiences as not happening or not our own as a defense mechanism. And that leads me to a warning. For individuals dealing with dissociation as a result of, for example, psychological trauma, forcing the mind back in the body can cause an abreaction and worsen your state of mind. If you find you have constant bad reactions to mindfulness, or exercises and martial arts that encourage this open state of mind, then please seek professional support before continuing further. I know of one individual who broke through life-long trauma through sheer force of will, but it took him decades and could have ended poorly. However, dealing with the emotional block monumentally improved his raw power through yuuki and shouki, so your mental health is worth working on in whatever capacity you can. I also speak from experience. Fluctuating shouki was a difficulty I had in my childhood, and it took a lot of self-compassion and support from family and friends to let go of the guilt a child can swallow when they do not know any better. Simple grounding exercises - feeling the earth between your toes, naming sounds, colours and smells in the world around you - can suffice to bolster shouki somewhat in the meanwhile, and was the technique I used until I could be truly still and in the moment.
I told you once that I made the fortuitous decision to sit cross legged over seiza for twenty hours of a twenty-five hour ceremony. This ceremony, to unlock my fullest potential, required me to keep very still at a time I wanted to do anything but; my friends and family were in grave danger, some even passing away in the meanwhile, and the god performing the magic did not come across as particularly competent. As the hours ticked by I felt no different, only frustrated and wrestling with all my concerns with little else to distract me. It was only as my anger boiled over that I felt the ease at which ki enveloped my clench fists, and I understood the power of stillness. Whilst I know the silent magic of the god played a more than substantial part in my increase in power, I know holding out hope for Earth while confronting myself and my fears during those endless hours did play some part in repairing and raising my shouki, and I am grateful for that time to reflect. I hope you can find this time, too.
With every possible type of amplification in your knowledge and the most accessible at your disposal, it is now time to relearn all techniques with field ki in the mix. I know, I know it feels a step backward, but trust me, this step is a huge leap forward, and will give you access to all the work following on. When - or if - you can amplify the strength of your techniques by a factor of two with only a tenth of the genki available, you will be ready to proceed to the next section on guarding.
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Oh Danatole Brainrot We’re Really In It Now, aka Danatole playlist annotations!
I am NOT going apologize for making this. I’m not. But know I am feeling shame.
Nobody - Hozier
“I wouldn’t fall for someone I thought couldn’t misbehave”
This is a bit of a best-case-scenario song, but I really feel like the vibes are encapsulated here. It’s got the energy of “i love you because we sin together and it’s fun” and also “I have a lot of lovers but lowkey.... you’re my fave 😳” which is, as I said, the best I could ever see them getting to.
Bad Decisions - Bastille
“So we’ll make the same mistakes til the morning breaks”
This song is about being idiots together and also knowing it’s not good for you which is the vibe. Also the refusal to have an Actual Relationship in “love me, leave me, rhythm of the evening” pops off. This song GETS that it’s a more casual thing but also weirdly important to them. Oh and “maybe this is where it ends” can be interpreted to be about the elopement plan if you want to stretch it.
Quarter Past Midnight - Bastille
“Good times, bad decisions”
“Let’s go be stupid together in public and also maybe hold hands uwu”
Glory - Bastille
“Passing the drink from hand to hand, we admit we really know nothing at all”
“Let’s go get drunk together in private and also maybe hold hands uwu”
Nocturnal Creatures - Bastille
“We’ve only got ourselves to blame, again and again and again”
The whole deal with this song is like. We’re in love kind of I guess but like only when in certain situations when our guard is down. Does that make sense?? It does in my head. And the idea of it being something stupid that they both keep coming back to despite being aware of it really fits. Disclaimer I’m not trying to suggest these two are Deeply In Love I’m just bad at wording things
Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco
“I taste you on my lips and I can’t get rid of you”
“You’re bad for me but we keep coming back to each other” vibes again. I don’t think Anatole is aware of how bad this actually is, he canonically has no idea he’s being manipulated, but I do think Dolokhov has a much better perspective on it. In my mind, Dolokhov really wishes he did not feel Anything for Anatole but. That is not working out the way he planned it, so a lot of these “why do I keep doing this :/“ songs are more from Dolokhov’s side than Anatole’s.
The Waves - Bastille
“Oh what would your mother say if she could see what we’re doing now?”
Look I added this for the Dolokhov’s mom jokes okay. That was the whole reason. I could very much see Anatole saying this exact thing to him.
Hell and You - Amigo the Devil
“Live with me in this sin forever”
Man the ENERGY of this song. The admittance and focus on them both being terrible people but enjoying being terrible together...yeah that’s them.
4am - Bastille
“You are my familiar”
The idea of just accepting something maybe not so great because it’s familiar which becomes easy which becomes fun...I very much think that’s how their relationship progressed, at least from Dolokhov’s end (You’re probably thinking “wow Wren, this playlist is super skewed toward Dolokhov’s feelings on the matter” and you’re right it’s because I hate Anatole 🥰). It’s definitely too forthcoming about actually enjoying the experience but oh well. Oh, and I stole a line from it for a fic once so it gets a permanent spot.
Bad Romance - Lady Gaga
“You and me could write a bad romance”
It is objectively a bad romance, but the real reason this song is on here is that I always forget it is and it makes me laugh every time
It Will Come Back - Hozier
“Don’t let it in with no intention to keep it”
Man Dolokhov really said ok I will manipulate this kid for a lil bit for money and then seven years later he’s helping him plan some illicit elopement for no personal gain huh. Life is crazy. Basically this song covers the “you were not intending for me to stick around but I’m a fixture of your life now!” thing. I wholeheartedly believe Dolokhov never planned to spend this much time with the Kuragins he just accidentally got attached.
Mamma Mia - ABBA
“You know you won’t be away too long”
It doesnt work super well but it makes me laugh okay!!! The concept of being bad for each other and not really working well but coming back to each other for some reason anyway is there.
No Light, No Light - Florence + The Machine
“No light in your bright blue eyes”
I heard the phrase bright blue eyes and smashed the add to playlist button, that’s it. But the more I listened to it the more I decided it could work post-elopement if you stretch it. “I’d do anything to make you stay” is obviously intended to be a romantic don’t-leave-me thing in the song but you can take it as the preparations scene if you really want. Not to suggest preparations is a romantic don’t-leave-me thing, that is very much not what I mean. “You cant choose what stays and what fades away” We all know Anatole wanted to flounce off with Natasha but in the end he was left eating dinner with Dolokhov 😔✌🏻 Dolokhov stayed and Natasha faded away hmmmm. Yes, purposely misinterpreting media is one of my favorite pastimes, why do you ask?
A Little Party Never Killed Nobody - Fergie
I don’t even have a lyric for this this is straight up just there for the hedonism/partying energy
We Are Young - fun.
“Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart”
This is mostly also just here for the friends/lovers at bars and parties living it up type beat. But the line “I know that I’m not all that you’ve got/I guess that I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart” bit does kinda hit. It’s by no means exclusive but they do kinda have fun yknow? Also the awareness that they are falling apart rather than doing anything worthwhile or loving is pretty fun.
Fine Line - Harry Styles
“You’ve got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes”
Obviously Dolokhov would not admit to being devoted to Anatole, and I don’t think I can in good conscience say that he is, but I think he’s definitely more devoted than he wants to be. It’s more about the hate line anyway. I initially just added it because I was like oh it works as a fine line between love and...not love, but honestly some of the lyrics work pretty well. Now that I’m armed with the knowledge that Anatole’s name means sunrise, I can say “you sunshine, you temptress” fits too.
I Dare You - The Regrettes
“I never wanted to get too close to you but now it looks like I’m getting too close to you”
RIGHT OFF THE BAT this one gets it. That lyric is The Vibe. “You’re gonna fall but I’ll catch you” is reminiscent of Dolokhov helping Anatole get out of (and into) messes constantly, although in an ideal world it would be a lot more grudging. And not to harp on about this but “you’re the one that brings the sun” 🔈ANATOLE MEANS SUNRISE🔈
Nine in the Afternoon - Panic! At The Disco
“Your eyes are the size of the moon”
I did warn you guys there would be several songs on here that are only there because they mention eyes, right? I definitely said that somewhere. I am going to use Dolokhov’s bright blue orbs for my nefarious Danatole playlist purposes and there’s nothing you can do about it. “You could cause you can so you do” does encapsulate Anatole’s thought process pretty well though, I think.
The Mighty Fall - Fall Out Boy
“Your crooked love is just a pyramid scheme”
Not Dolokhov constantly using Anatole for money 🙄✋🏻 MLM in more ways than one. But also the idea of falling for someone being a kind of defeat works well. Admit you like him, Dolokhov. I dare you.
Bromance - Chester See & Ryan Higa
“Bromance, nothing really gay about it”
Historians will say they were roommates. I’m sorry this song just makes me laugh and I refuse to remove it.
Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco
“You fooled me once with your eyes now, honey, you fooled me twice with your lies”
Rhyming eyes with lies is peak Dolokhovcore! And the “Sarah doesn’t care, she lives in her world so unaware” is Anatolecore because he’s stupid. The bit about “my destiny lies with her” or whatever is irrelevant ignore that.
Fred Astaire - Jukebox the Ghost
“Those eyes, they get me every time”
The entire rest of this song is someone being blind to the other person’s flaws and initially I was like wow this doesn’t work at all and then I realized it could be stretched to mean Anatole being super oblivious to Dolokhov’s manipulation. But when it comes down to it, it’s about the eye lyric.
I Don’t Know Why I Like You But I Do - The Wombats
The title says it all. Literally that’s the whole explanation.
Daft Pretty Boys - Bad Suns
“I don’t like you, you look so pretty from afar”
If you don’t think Dolokhov calls Anatole a pretty boy (derogatory) you’re so wrong and I cannot help you. That was why I added it but the vibes of “you’re hot but wow your personality is terrible and I hate you” are there so. Enjoy! Oh and the bit about wasting your time works too, I can think of like sixty three better things off the top of my head Dolokhov could be doing than hanging out with Anatole, including but not limited to stapling his own fingers together and arson.
Rich Friends - Portugal. The Man
“I could really really really use a rich rich friend like you”
Do I HAVE to explain this one? I also like “Hey man I’m cool to lean on but I’m not your property” for them, if you stretch it it gets across the way Anatole thinks Dolokhov is His Friend but in reality. He’s using him HDHHSHDHDHBS Also the chorus has hedonism vibes, which ALWAYS works with these two.
#why do i insist on shaming myself for this ship. idk#war and peace#fedya dolokhov#anatole kuragin#my post#w&p playlists#rat hours#danatole
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—
His voice echoed in her mind still.
The entrance to the catacombs was exactly where the apparition in the burnt temple had said it would be– tucked away in an inconspicuous corner of Copperlane, unguarded and easily accessible to those who knew what they were looking for. But as she stood before the humble stone archway, steeling herself for the ordeal to come, Axa had suddenly found herself swept away from the here and now into a memory from another time, another life–
–It was her turn, at last. He smiled at her approach, warm and fatherly. "You are from Creitum, my dear?"
"I am, Your Eminence." She smiled back, bashful and slightly starstruck. This was an honor, she reminded herself, an immense honor for such worthless caitiff as herself. "I was born and raised in Creitum."
His smile broadened–
Axa had never heard of any city called Creitum, but she had heard the name, had heard him ask her that same question before. In dreams, in memories hidden deep within her soul.
"Axa? Y' okay?" She felt Edér's hands gripping her shoulders as the vision faded away, ready to prop her up should she need him to. She had wavered, but she had not fallen.
Her little hand found his, squeezed it gently as she smiled up into the bearded man's face. "Yes, Edér, I'll be... I'm fine. Thank you. Let's just get this over with–"
–"A fine city, one of the very finest we have encountered outside of our own. Creitum has produced many strong, principled women and men who have heard the call of the gods and answered that call with reverence and devotion, determined to spread the truth of Their word."
He laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his smile as warm and nurturing as the sun, and she felt her heart swell with respect and adoration for him, for the gods who had lead her here. "And how did it come to pass that you should hear Their call, my child?"
She had hoped, before, that he might not ask about her previous life, pathetic and meaningless as it had been. But now beneath his benevolent gaze, her answer came easily–
The vision replayed itself over and over in her mind, even as she knelt before the dead man just beyond the bottom of the entrance stairs. The essence still clinging to his rapidly cooling body had revealed to Axa that, for better or for worse, they'd come to the right place to find the Leaden Key.
Axa heard Itumaak growl behind her, heard Edér and Pallegina draw their weapons and Kana start chanting. She whipped around just in time to see the troll lumbering out of the shadows at them, flanked by black oozes that undulated grotesquely in the torchlight. There was no turning back now–
–"I suffered through... troubled times in my youth, Your Eminence. Dark times." She was surprised at how easy it was to admit now, how the shame and sorrow that had seemed heavy enough to crush her before now slipped from her shoulders like an old shawl as she spoke. "I was lost, adrift in a meaningless world without light, without hope. Nothing made sense. But that all changed when your order brought the word of the true gods to us."
He nodded sagely, his grip briefly tightening on her shoulder–
"Gee back, ye clods! These hooded fiends is nae t' be trusted!" Aloth's hand shot out to grab her by the shoulder, but Axa spun on him instead, eyes wide with alarm, surprising him just enough to allow him to regain control.
Strong hands seized him then, shook him roughly as he coughed and stumbled. "Postenago, what are you doing? You will give away our position!" Pallegina's golden eyes narrowed to slits in her anger, baring her teeth as she hissed at the trembling elf.
He opened his mouth to stammer an apology, an excuse, anything to get the Godlike to ease off, but Axa beat him to it. "It's alright, Pallegina, he didn't do it on purpose. He can't–" She glanced at Aloth's face, winced, continued– "he can't help it."
To her surprise, he didn't look betrayed or even angry with her for spilling his secret. He simply lowered his gaze to his feet, apologized again, hugged his cloak tightly around himself as Kana gently ushered him off to the side of the damp, earthy passageway to sit and collect himself.
"Forgive me, I... I don't know what came over me." He smoothed his hair back with shaking hands, eyes rimmed red and watery. "But... when we're finished here, I–"
"When we're finished here," Sagani snapped, "you're going to have some explaining to do, I wager." The little huntress regarded him with that mix of righteous anger and genuine concern that only a parent could truly master, hands planted squarely on her hips. "Until then: Watcher, you've a job to do. And by the sounds of it, you've not much time to do it in." She thrust her chin at the door at the end of the corridor, voices behind it rising to a crescendo before coming to an abrupt halt.
Axa nodded, pulled on the itchy, stifling hood and mask–
–"I see. Indeed, very little makes sense taken in the context of the falsehoods under which so many innocent lives have labored for so long. Too long." His kind, gentle smile had been warped by pity into a rictus grave and sorrowful, and she feared for a moment that her words might have actually caused him pain, somehow. But the smile slowly returned as he continued speaking, like storm clouds breaking and drifting apart to once again reveal the beauty and power of the sun.
"It is by the mercy of the gods alone– praise be to Them!– that we have been permitted to bear the torch of Their divine truth to these distant shores, to enlighten so many of the lost and heathen in these chaotic times." His hand tightened on her shoulder again, and the tears she had not even known were there spilled over her lashes and down her cheeks. He brushed them away with the back of one finger, showing her such compassion as she had never known in her old life.
"Are you ready, initiate? Are you ready to take the oath, to devote yourself body, mind, and soul to spreading the word of the gods? To bring to the ignorant the light of the truth?"
She found the courage to look into his eyes at last, and in them she saw salvation.
Finally, she was saved. And in turn, she would help the order to save them all.
"I am–"
"State your name and purpose."
Axa was not able to tell if the masked woman was speaking to her with her voice or with her mind alone. But neither had she the luxury of dwelling on such minutiae.
"My name belongs to the gods, and my hand to their service."
She had never been a particularly devout woman, but somehow the words felt familiar as they left her mouth. As though she had not learned them mere moments ago from some fidgeting neophyte, but had always known them, deep in her soul.
"What company do you seek?"
A vision of her friends outside flashed before her mind, the five of them huddled together in the little hallway, nervously awaiting her return. She pushed the thought away as quickly as her wits would allow.
"I seek the company of shadows, that our labors may remain secret."
Secrets and shadows seemed to dominate her life ever since coming to the Dyrwood, that much was certain. Ever since that night, the bîaŵac, the machine–
"Tell me of your labors."
She had yet to fully recover from the day's efforts, her body still aching from physical exertion, her nerves raw. All the problems in the city– was it all the work of these people? How could that be so?
"To see that the craft of kith and wilder does not disturb what bones the gods have buried."
For all that the robed man in her past life had spoken of bringing the "truth of the gods" to the people, this cult seemed awfully keen on obfuscation. Burying secrets, hiding in the shadows, locking it all away–
"How do we know your purpose?"
And they demanded knowledge while offering none themselves? Threatened with death those who opposed their hidden will? She thought of Kana, pursued across two continents as he quested for the truth of his homeland's history. To what end...?
"You shall know it by the confession of my tongue, the deeds of my hand, and the oath on my soul."
Sins kept secret. Atrocities committed against the innocent. Promises broken and falsehoods unchallenged. Axa's heart pounded in her chest. These people were very dangerous. But a choice between provoking their wrath by opposing their will and allowing them to continue their nefarious operation unabated was no choice at all.
"And how is your oath guarded?"
She looked into the acolyte's masked face, and saw an emotionless, inscrutable void.
Whoever these people were, whoever guided them from the shadows, she would not let them subdue her, or Kana, or anyone who sought the light of the truth, ever again. She swore it.
"It is sealed by the Leaden Key."
—
#pillars of eternity#poe anthem infinitum#tumblo ate this fucking post twice#and i had to jump through some FUCKING HOOPS to get it on my desktop#fix your shit tamblo.#anyway plz enjoy chapter 10 is almost done~#fic wip
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Shadow of the Past
Ch. 1
What if Plo Koon hadn't made it in time to to save baby Ahsoka from the slaver? What if the slaver was an agent of Palpatine to collect force sensitive children for the nefarious purpose of being raised in the first inquisitor cult to prepare for the future imperial regime?
Barriss and Ahsoka are together post Order 66 working for the rebellion until something rips through the fabric of time preventing Plo Koon from ever bringing Ahsoka to the Jedi.
Barriss finds herself in a universe almost identical to her own post Order 66 but she has lost Ahsoka.
Everyone she talks to says they dont know who Ahsoka is and it's driving her mad. And for some reason, they have no memory of Barriss's bombing on the temple. Instead she is an early rebellion leader. And to top it all off, the rebellion isn't fighting. How can they when there's already a war?
Bail Organa, surprised at her lapse of memory informed Barriss that Maul was the leader of Mandalore and was fighting the Empire. In a Sith war, there's little the rebellion can do except help the survivors and distribute food and supplies to those on both sides suffering shortages from the war. Nothing makes sense. All Barriss wants to do is find Ahsoka and get out of this nightmare.
She searches for Ahsoka with little luck since her name isnt registered anywhere but little does she know, Ahsoka is tracking her for a very different reason...
Barriss lands on a moon when her latest lead dries up. She had found a Tano but it wasn't Ahsoka. Frustrated she hoped meditation would center herself.
In the darkness of the cave Barriss is meditating in, she senses a strange presence. Both familar and a stranger. She opens her eyes and sees the silhouette of Ahsoka
Barriss: Ahsoka?
Ahsoka: Who's Ahsoka? Another Jedi friend? Or perhaps just a rebel collaborater?
It sounds exactly like her but with a slow sinister drawl Ahsoka has never used. Barriss had a bad feeling about this but she stayed hopeful.
Barriss: Don't you recognize me?
Ahsoka: Recognize you? I've studied you. Your tactics, your lightsaber style, your force healing... your rebel activities. You've been my little project for a number years but I've never been able to find you... until now.
A double bladed red lightsaber ignites lighting Ahsoka's face confirming that it is indeed her. But her eyes were yellow.
Barriss: No. No this isn't real. It can't be.
Ahsoka was disappointed that her target appeared to have lost her mind. Barriss Offee, the famed rebel Jedi knight was to be her kill and she wanted it to be a noble kill. Ah well, guess she could always omit that part out of the report.
Ahsoka: Better defend yourself Jedi. I don't like killing helpless bugs. Takes away the sport.
Barriss: Ahsoka, I don't understand what's happening but I promised myself I would never lift my blade against you again.
Ahsoka: Again? You really have lost your mind! I must say I'm disappointed. Here I was, expecting the duel of a lifetime.
Barriss: Ahsoka...
Ahsoka: That is NOT my name! I am 4th sister. If you won't defend yourself, prepare to die Barriss Offee.
Ahsoka's attack is sloppy. Barriss easily evades her. The Ahsoka she knows would never have been so disorganized with an attack so straightforward. Ahsoka became so frustrated with the evasions that she turned on the spinning mode of the uniform inquisitor saber. Barriss would have rolled her eyes if her heart wasn't breaking.
How could this happen? Ahsoka had just proposed to her the night before. The next morning Ahsoka wasn't there. And now that she finds her, it's this... person she doesnt even know. Badly trained too. Almost like someone was afraid of her potential.
Barriss disarms Ahsoka with a simple force push destroying the saber against the cave wall.
Barriss: It seems inquisitors are the same no matter what insane reality I'm in.
Despite bad inquisitor training, Ahsoka's instincts were still sharp and Barriss didn't predict that Ahsoka would use the force to grab her own blue saber. Barriss jumped backward in time but got a lightly grazed on her side which would leave lightsaber burns on her skin. For a moment, Ahsoka, fierce with the heat of battle and a blue lightsaber looked so much more like herself... if she werent trying to kill her that is.
She had an idea though it pained her.
Barriss: Ahsoka, please. You know me, deep down, I have to believe that. And I know you. Whatever this nightmare is, we can fix this together.
Ahsoka: Stop calling me that!!!
Again Barriss evades her attack but this time, she has a syringe in her hand with enough seditive to knock her out for a good few hours. She only hoped this version of Ahsoka didnt have her fear of needles.
She yelped, then slashed the lightsaber carelessly and dropped like a rock.
Barriss began to shake. She knocked out Ahsoka. Even if she avoided using her lightsaber, it still felt horrible. She fell to knees and let whatever emotions needed to be let out. She couldn't let this Ahsoka see her like this. If she's going to get through to her, it would have to be through logic. In this place, Ahsoka had no idea who she was so emotions wouldn't work. She carried Ahsoka to her ship trying to ignore how thin she was. She needed to get them back to their own reality somehow.
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Armed to the Fangs ch.7
SUMMARY: you grew up in the hunter’s guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. while making the rounds one night, you encounter taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.
PAIRING: eventual ot7 x reader
WARNINGS: some description of violence, angst, pining, maybe eventual smut but not for a looooong time, slow burn (really the slowest of burns), injeolmi being adorable, argument between some of the boys
RATING: T
WORD COUNT: 3k - this one is a lil shorter!
A/N: yay hobi finally makes his appearance!! thank you @pasteljeon for looking over this for me.
Also, small announcement - I doubt anyone will really care, but ATTF is going to be put on hold for a little while. I’ve decided to give writing my own original work a try, and am hoping to self-publish my work on kindle! since I only keep 2 AUs going at a time, I will be focusing on DADT and my original work for now. ATTF will be continued when I complete DADT. :) I’m really excited about this new project and I hope you guys will support me!
series index
If Hoseok heard one more word about the hunter ‘ambassador’ who’d taken up residence in the manor, he thought he would scream. The younger ones were especially enthusiastic about you and your cat, and even Yoongi walked around with that dumbass smile once in a while, usually after spending time with you.
Thankfully, they’d quickly realized that he wasn’t all that interested in talking about you after he shut them down or walked away mid-conversation. It wasn’t the most polite way to go about it, but telling them with words hadn’t really worked to dampen their enthusiasm.
It was just that Hoseok didn’t really feel like meeting anyone new. It wasn’t anything personal, it was just that he didn’t quite have the energy to engage with anything much these days. The others, for the most part, understood, especially the older ones who knew exactly what he’d been through.
Instead of spending his time out and about like the others did, he was holed up in his suite most of the time. He’d had a small fridge installed so he could keep his blood there instead of going down to the main fridge every day like the others did, and usually spent hours staring at the miniature portrait of Minhee. It was the only rendering she’d posed for before she died. He knew his brothers didn’t think it was the healthiest thing to do, but they left him alone for the most part.
After all, it wasn’t common for a vampire to survive losing his mate – they agreed that all things considered, Hoseok was doing fairly well, even if he was a shell of his former jovial self. If they hoped he would come out of his shell a little more to make friends with the human girl who now lived with them, they mostly kept it to themselves after Hoseok had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in playing nice with hunters.
---------------------------------
Injeolmi had really taken to life in the manor, you were pleased to note. You weren’t quite ready to let him just run around without your supervision yet, but he was growing more confident whenever you let him out of your room to run around the mansion. There were litter boxes installed in various other rooms, too, like the library where you tended to spend a lot of time. You were on your way there again, Injeolmi following you like he did most days, when the cat suddenly made a break for it.
You were stunned for a moment, trying to process what had happened. Your sweet baby had never done something like this before, and it took you a second to gather yourself enough to run after him. “Injeolmi, stop!” you called, but since today was apparently a day of firsts, he ignored you.
As you rounded the corner, you wondered why there were so many random hallways in this manor, anyway. It looked like it was just the seven of them (and you now, of course) and they didn’t even have any servants. You were still unsure of how the whole place stayed so clean, since it wasn’t like you’d ever seen any of them pick up a broom.
Hoseok was having a normal day – for him, anyway – up till that point. He had the miniature of Minhee in his hand as he sucked down his snack, his door slightly ajar to let the others know that he was feeling up to their company that day. He heard the ruckus occurring outside and rolled his eyes, but stayed on the couch. Hopefully, the noisy new human resident would just run past. He didn’t think she’d ever been in this wing of the mansion before, and she definitely didn’t know it was his room.
Hearing the door to his room move slightly, he whipped around in surprise, half-expecting you to be standing there. He didn’t see anyone in the entryway, however, and sat up more fully to peer over the back of the couch. A small chatter caught his attention, and he craned his neck further to see a cat standing in the gap he’d left.
“Hello,” he said out of habit to the cat, which meowed again at him and took a couple more steps into the room. “What’s a cat doing in the house?” he asked no one in particular, having forgotten momentarily that you’d brought your furry companion with you when you moved in.
Injeolmi, showing a remarkable lack of fear, just waltzed right in and hopped up on the couch to sit next to Hoseok, chattering at him. Belatedly remembering that you’d brought a cat into the compound, he just sighed and frowned at said cat. “You’re really a hassle, you know that?” he grumbled, gently shooing the cat away so that he wouldn’t have to return him.
Flicking his ears, Injeolmi just turned away, as if he couldn’t be bothered to dignify Hoseok’s complaints with a response. He could hear you approaching, still calling for your cat and stomping down the hallway.
“You little prick,” he accused, though the words didn’t have any heat behind them. Gently, he picked the cat up – and cats had no business being this big, he thought – and carried him back to the door, putting him down on the floor and patting his butt to get him to leave. “Go on,” he urged, although the cat hardly seemed interested, instead sprawling out across the floor.
The footsteps were coming close now, and he knew you were about to walk past at any moment. Perhaps if everything was quiet, you wouldn’t notice, and would just walk by…? He could kick the cat out of the room once you rounded the corner, and wouldn’t have to make any awkward introductions.
Of course, he could never be so lucky. Just as you were passing by his room, the goddamn cat let out the loudest meow he’d heard in hundreds of years on this earth. Panicked, he leaned down – just as you heard Injeolmi give what you assumed had to be a wail of distress and burst into the room, gun cocked and ready to defend your baby.
“Back the fuck away from the cat!” you cried, immediately aiming your gun at the man who was leaning down towards Injeolmi, for whatever nefarious purposes. He looked up at you in shock, and your aim faltered for just a second as you recognized the man in the painting. The last vampire. Who was glaring up at you in irritation, and none of the fear you would expect from someone who had a gun trained right between their eyes.
Instead, you watched as his furrowed brow smoothed for a second as he gaped, his eyes wide with shock, at you, before resuming his initial stern expression. “Your cat was the one who barged into my room,” he snapped, although his voice hid an odd tremor. “Just take it away.”
“Uh, okay,” you said, sliding your gun back into its holster since it didn’t look like he was a threat to either you or Injeolmi. You were about to ask whether he was doing all right, since he looked a little pale and off, but he got up abruptly and turned away from you, walking back to the couch and sitting down. He stubbornly refused to look at you again, and you felt a little sulky, since you’d been curious about him for a while, and now that he was here you wanted to ask him some questions and find out more about him.
Still, since he’d walked away from you, there was no way to assuage your curiosity today. “Come on, baby,” you said in a far higher-pitched tone to Injeolmi, squatting to gather him up in your arms. He was pliant and obedient for you as always, happy to be held by you, and it was almost hard for you to believe that this was the same cat that had run off earlier. Injeolmi was the laziest cat ever, and that had been wholly uncharacteristic of him.
Standing up with Injeolmi cradled in your arms, you turned to leave the room. “Ah, do you want the door open or shut?” you asked as you hovered right outside.
“Shut,” the mysterious man inside said firmly, and you shrugged as you followed his instruction before continuing on your path to the library.
“You’re a really naughty boy,” you cooed at Injeolmi, jiggling him a little in your arms nonetheless. When you let yourself into the library, you put Injeolmi down and he went and settled down in the one spot where there was sunlight, streaming in through a small crack in the floor-to-ceiling curtains that had been left there specially for him.
Shaking your head at him, you drifted further into the library, to the sitting area near the back. Namjoon was already there, with Jin. They had their little blood bags in front of them on the coffee table, which you could mostly ignore as long as you thought of them as Capri Suns. “Hello,” Namjoon greeted, while Jin just smiled at you. “I chose something new for you today,” he continued, leaning forward to tap the cover of a book he had resting on the table.
You smiled at him. “Thank you,” you said, coming to sit next to him. Leaning forward to pick up the book, you completely missed the way he stiffened as you sank into the comfortable couch, and Jin’s responding smirk at his brother’s momentary loss of composure. Because you’d never had much time at the Guild to pick up hobbies like reading, you’d been completely blown away by the size of the library, and Namjoon had taken it upon himself to pick different books of different genres and on various topics for you to decide what you liked reading. So far, you were really into thrillers and memoirs, but you were definitely hiding a secret love for romance novels.
Opening the book, you were soon so immersed in reading that you completely forgot to ask them about the man you’d just met.
---------------------------------
Hoseok was, to put it mildly, freaking out. He held the portait of Minhee in his left hand, while reaching for the bag of blood he’d been nursing with the right, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to drink it. His hand shook slightly as he raised his drink to his mouth, hoping against hope that he was wrong.
The moment the blood bag neared his mouth, though, the smell of the blood became too much, and nausea bubbled up in him.
“Fuck.” He tossed the bag back down onto the table, grimacing.
There was no way this was possible. You couldn’t be his mate. Vampires didn’t get more than one, and he still remembered her dying in his arms, despite his frantic attempts to stop the bleeding. Her whispered apology as her life slipped away haunted his nightmares.
And yet… you smelled just like Minhee. You’d think that four hundred years away from his mate would have dulled the memories, but he recalled exactly how her blood had smelled and tasted, like absolute perfection. When he’d scented you, it had taken all his willpower to stop his eyes from changing colour and his fangs from descending.
“Minhee-ah… what’s going on?” he murmured, tracing the edges of the portrait with his thumb. His mind raced, and he knew there was only one person in the house who might possibly know the answer to that question.
-------------------------------------
Conveniently, Namjoon was in Jin’s study with him that evening when Hoseok came, so he could tell them both about the problem he’d encountered today.
When he knocked and entered the study, Jin and Namjoon both gaped at him for a second before Jin gathered himself. “Hobi, hello,” he said smoothly, covering up his surprise. “What brings you out here tonight?”
Hoseok frowned. Seokjin was talking like he never came to hang out with his brothers, which wasn’t true at all. He’d been getting better about spending time with others… at least until you arrived.
“I met our new housemate today,” Hoseok said by way of greeting.
Namjoon and Jin exchanged slightly panicked glances. “And… what did you think?” Jin prompted, trying to hide his unease. Hoseok hadn’t been the most cheerful or chatty person for a long time now, and this whole situation, while not ideal for anyone involved, was definitely something that would upset him.
Hoseok hummed, trying to find the words to explain. He didn’t know whether to ease into it or just blurt it out, and he didn’t know how much his brothers already knew. They’d been good friends with Minhee as well, since the four older vampires had always been together.
“Do you remember Minhee?” he asked, sidestepping his hyung’s question.
From the way both Namjoon and Jin gaped at him, he had a sinking feeling that both his brothers knew exactly where he was going with this.
“When were you going to tell me?” he said tiredly, running his hand over his face.
“Uh…” Jin started getting a deer-in-the-headlights look, so Namjoon stepped in.
“We just weren’t sure what all this meant, and we didn’t want to bother you unnecessarily,” he explained. “The whole situation is really strange, and none of us really know what to make of it…”
From what he was saying, it seemed like there was more at hand than this girl’s unexplained connection to Minhee, and Hoseok’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by this ‘whole situation’?”
“Jesus,” Jin muttered under his breath. “Good going, Joon.”
Namjoon cringed, knowing he’d messed up.
“You guys seem to have some explaining to do.” Hoseok pulled the chair out from Jin’s desk and slung himself into it casually.
“Right, I suppose we do,” Jin sighed, massaging his temples.
“Well?” Hoseok asked, his brow raising as Jin didn’t say anything else after that.
Jin looked over Hoseok’s shoulder at Namjoon, who was still sitting on the couch in his study. “Would you like to take a crack at it?”
“Sure, throw me under the bus,” Namjoon grumbled, but got up and came to sit in the chair next to Hoseok’s anyway, so the three of them were seated around Jin’s desk.
“So, Taehyung found Y/n, and, uh…”
“Spit it out, already,” Hoseok snapped, accompanied by an eye roll.
“It turns out that she’s his mate…?” Namjoon said, so uncertainly that it sounded like a question. He eyed Hoseok warily, hoping he wouldn’t blow up at the unexpected (and likely unwelcome) news. He hadn’t even finished telling the story.
Hoseok turned to regard Namjoon more directly. “How can she be his mate? He’s been eating fine, hasn’t he?”
“Uh, we aren’t that sure about that,” Namjoon admitted. “But he isn’t the only one.”
“What.”
“As it turns out…” Namjoon paused and looked over at Jin for help. Jin nodded encouragingly for moral support. “Uh, all of us… are her mate.” He cringed away from Hoseok as he said it, bracing himself for the inevitable explosion.
“How the fuck is that possible?!”
“Hobi, please.” Jin held his hands out placatingly, trying to calm his brother down. “We don’t know what’s going on either, but we’re trying to figure it out, okay? Joon and I are spending all our free time in the library, trying to find out more.”
Hoseok put his head in his hands and groaned. “Why can’t things ever just be normal around here?” he mumbled.
Namjoon, sighing, patted Hoseok’s shoulder, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. “I’m sorry, bro,” he said, the words falling flat because he knew even as he was saying them that it wasn’t enough. “We’ll figure this out together, all right?”
“This is fucked up,” Hoseok said shakily, and Namjoon wasn’t sure if he’d even heard him. “All of this is so messed up, I can’t believe it. How can the seven of us be mated to the same girl? We’re going to drain her dry.”
“Hobi, let’s not get ahead of ourselves…” Jin looked slightly alarmed, reaching over to pat the top of Hoseok’s head.
“I never wanted any of this, losing Minhee was bad enough. I can’t deal with any more mate drama,” Hoseok complained, ignoring his hyung.
“Hobi, come on!” Jin lost his patience finally and snapped, raising his voice. “None of us know what’s up, and we’re all trying to get through this together, so will you please get it together and stop playing the victim?”
From the way Hoseok looked up at narrowed his eyes, his brothers knew they were in for it. “Together?!” Hoseok asked derisively. “Right… is that why you were hiding Y/n from me?”
“We weren’t hiding her,” Jin said, offended now. “We told you about her; you just didn’t want to meet her because you’d rather stay holed up in your room by yourself all the time!”
“Jesus Christ!” Hoseok slammed his fist down on Jin’s desk. “Maybe, just maybe, if you had started with ‘Hobi, by the way the hunter you’ve invited into our home smells like Minhee and is apparently our shared mate’, I might have paid more attention to her!” With that, Hoseok stormed out of the study, done with interacting with his brothers.
In the wake of his outburst, Jin and Namjoon sat quietly, the silence ringing loudly in their ears.
Jin was the first to break the silence with a loud, gusty sigh. “It’s so hard to talk to him nowadays,” he complained to Namjoon. He still remembered the jovial, smiling Hoseok of years past, back before everything had changed. As much as he understood the anguish his brother was going through and wanted to be there for him, it was just so difficult when Hoseok was belligerent like this.
Namjoon nodded in agreement, resting his chin in his hand. “If nothing else, hopefully Y/n will be able to help him.”
Jin hummed. “Do you think we should tell the others?”
“They wouldn’t understand, you know that,” Namjoon responded. Reluctantly, Jin agreed – the maknaes had never been quite as patient with Hoseok as the older brothers. They just didn’t understand why he was so angry all the time, and Hoseok didn’t like discussing what he’d gone through. It was difficult keeping secrets from their brothers, but it was necessary in this case to protect Hoseok.
#btswritingcafe#bangtanarmynet#kwritersworldnet#btswritersnet#plotsofpastel#ficswithluv#magicshopnet#btswriterscollective#bangtanhq#armed to the fangs#attf#bts fic#bts scenarios#bts vampire au#vampire bts#ot7 x reader#bts ot7 fic#bts ot7#bts x reader
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First Lines Of Your Last 20 Fics!
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!
I was tagged by @eveningspirit, thank you! I always like to walk down the memory lane of my writing exploits, they are a nice confidence boos. :)
The Ice King and the Star Boy (The 100 | Bellamy/Roan | E) (aka the monsterfic, as you know it ;))
Banishment.
Impasse (Revolution | CM2 | E)
Charlie finds Bass stretched all lion-like on the king-size bed, studying reports, when she enters the tent.
(Filling) Empty Spaces (Revolution | Jeremy/Charlie | NR)
Charlie was just going to drop off the files Miles had forgotten again, but Jeremy waves her inside as he opens the door.
Only Human (The 100 | various characters | G)
“You’re presenting a puzzle to Rani and Lana.”
Lost (Yellowstone | Jamie Dutton | G)
The plaque on the wall is like a signpost. So, of course he goes to Beth. Because he doesn’t know what to do, whether to accept Rainwater’s – a good man, Perry said, and Jamie might be naïve, but he is not that naïve to think that if everyone plays dirty Rainwater is an exception – patronage or not.
Homework (Station 19 | Vicley | G)
Homework: Write a 100 words about your family or about what you want to be when you grow up.
Now Is Not the End (Station 19 | Vicley | T)
Vic waits with baited breath for that moment she is not ready for. Waits. Waits…
Thoughts on the Future Pasts (Timeless | Nicholas Keynes/Emma Whitmore| T)
The future is... confusing.
Dominoes Falling (TVD/TO | Elena/Elijah/Klaus | NR)
It turns out sometimes late is worse than never.
Close Encounters (Revolution | Charlie/Bass | E)
Bass gets to work well after midnight when the hotel at last falls silent, the partying vacationers having tired themselves out and the early-rising business people not yet up. He is done cleaning the pools before dawn and he sits down in a shaded corner, enjoying the peace and quiet of those last dark cool minutes that offer reprieve from the summer heat.
Reasons to Fight (The 100 | Clarke/Roan | NR)
Roan comes round to something tugging at his hand, constricting his movement. Panic surges in his mind for a moment before he pushes it down and starts cataloguing his surroundings with the methodical precision he learnt as a boy.
Prompts Exist to Be Filled (Revolution, prompt collection, various)
She was a good woman – Jeremy sensed that, although he knew her life had been – perhaps still was – intertwined with Bass’ and Miles’, which also meant that it was fucked up, because those two managed to fuck up everything they touched and he only needed to look in the mirror to find an example; yet, whatever it was up with her and Bass and Miles and however fucked up it was, Jeremy saw her effect on Bass whose eyes lost the glint of craziness and paranoia the moment she appeared: Bass suddenly seemed the man Jeremy met fifteen years ago – the Bass with a sense of shame for his blatant lie and a remnant of naïveté that used to drive him to do the right thing, a man redirected to the path he had lost.
Alien Encounters, Changing Fates, Business as Usual (Killjoys, Revolution, Supernatural | various characters | NR)
After what seems like ages, the turbulence ends with one final jolt that rattles every single bone in their bodies, a clear signal that they have landed – somewhere.
It’s Us Who Own the Apocalypse (Revolution | various pairings | NR)
2030
For the umpteenth time in her life, Rachel regrets getting involved with the goddamn DOD – and for the umpteenth time as well, she acknowledges that she would have done it again if it meant saving Danny – when she almost stumbles into her office from yet another meeting in which she had to fight tooth-and-nail against the bastards trying to use her work for their nefarious purposes.
Convalescence (Quantico | Clayton Haas | NR)
Clayton flinches when he hears the door being unlocked. He always flinches when someone is at the door, although he knows the chance of anyone finding him here is miniscule. The shame at his own cowardice makes him nauseous for a moment; he didn’t use to be one to succumb to fears, but he supposes a near-death experience would do this to a man.
When the Night Breaks (The 100 | Bellamy/Roan | E)
“I’m sorry about your arm.”
The Princess and the Pirates (Revolution | various characters | T)
“Sail out. My brother Miles is out there at sea. He’ll help you.”
Each of Us Is Broken, Always and Forever (The Originals | Elijah/Rebekah/Klaus | E)
“Good evening.”
Hollow (The 100 | Bellarke | NR)
He hadn’t realised it would be like missing a limb. Like in those stories he had heard on the Ark long ago, of a person’s left hand trying to scratch the right one that is no longer there, of phantom pain where there used to be a body part.
There’s a War… but All I See Is You and Me (Agents of Shield | Bakshimmons | E)
It is a stupid thing to wish, but if he were able to stop the time, he would freeze them in those minutes when Jemma giggles between kisses before collapsing on the bed and pulling him down with her.
***
Oh, this took me to 2015 and that shitshow we do not mention, although am sorry I haven't finished this particular fic (but I won't. Nope, nope. Because I'd have to rewatch S2 for that and no, no, no. No. Yes, that's how many no-s it deserves.)
Thank you for the tag, ES, it was nice remembering things I did well, if I say so myself!
It took me so long because on the day you tagged me I started writing it right away and then tumblr decided that e and l are not acceptable letters - I got scared my keyboard was dying, but nope, it worked just fine when typing in word or even into a search line on another tab in the same browser, but tumblr just wouldn't 'take' them.
Also, I remember doing something similar before but with only 10 fics and I could've copy-pasted that and just add the next ten, but do you think I remembered it before I'd already painstakingly did 10 fics? Of course not.
And then, as I think you saw I was too scatter-brained for anything.
Why I'm even explaining this? I think it's the lack of contact with like actual normal humans and this is the closest, so I over do it. Oh, well, if I've already put in the effort to type it all. ;)
Oh, right, patterns: I tend to really vary in style? Though maybe shorter openings are more frequent than more wordy ones.
And my favourite are those from Hollow, Dominoes Falling, and Convalescence. Which one is yours?
Tagging (if it helps you feel better, otherwise, feel free to ignore): @bea2me, @jadedbirch, @abedsmessedupmeta, @stargazerdaisy, @vesperass-anuna and IDK who ever is still writing, oh @blue-charlotte and anyone else who wants to do it! :)
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