#okay remember when i said that there were originally supposed to be companion pieces to that au link piece i posted a while back? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teeth-n-ambitions · 1 month

Text

Yours (pt 2)

So I have been able to start the rewrite, and I'm already liking it better. But I'm busy this weekend so I'll give y'all more of the original. I'll post the new piece once I've finished it :D

@deluxewhump @whumpyourdamnpears

Part 1

TW: blood, nudity, vampire whump, lady whump, possesive whumper, manipulation, slight dubcon, hitting(?)

Rules were set rather quickly, which Lila was given the luxury to write down to help remember. Cassara had given her a small journal. She clung to it as if it held her very soul.

Some of them were explicit. No arguing, mind her manners, go only where instructed, etc. Others, however, Lila picked up on her own. Being present was one of them. Cassara couldn’t stand when she drifted off, especially during conversation. Honesty was another. Don’t say things just because that’s what she thinks Cassara wants to hear. Yet, confusingly, don’t say things she doesn’t want to hear. She had to want to please Cassara. Merely playing along wasn’t good enough. And then, of course, the touching. Lila was never, ever, to pull away from her. No matter how ridiculous or uncomfortable she felt, she had to allow it. Not even allow. Welcome it. She put those in her journal too.

But so far things had been…tame, in a sense. From how she acted that night, Lila was certain Cassara would bash her head in at the smallest mistake, yet in reality the worst she got was a reminder, or a look, maybe a smack on the hand. Still, it had only been a few days. There was much about the vampire she hadn’t learned yet. How she fed is what terrified Lila the most. She admitted she planned to bite her, but she hadn’t said anything about it since. It made Lila’s hair stand on end whenever a hand got too close to her throat.

Cassara’s insistence on carrying her everywhere didn’t help in the slightest. She didn’t want any unnecessary pressure on Lila’s healing ankle, which Lila appreciated, but that left her entirely vulnerable should Cassara decide she wanted something to eat.

“Lila.”

She jolted at her name.

“Yes?”

They sat on a large plush chair in the library, with room for Lila to lean against the back despite resting in Cassara’s lap. Cassara held a book, an arm curling around Lila to hold it, while Lila had been quietly journaling.

“I can hear your heart beating harder. What is it you’re writing that’s gotten you so worked up?”

“Oh, uh,” Lila pulled the journal into her chest, eyes on stiff knuckles. “It’s noth—”

“Let me see it.”

She kept a thumb between the pages, sucked in a breath when Cassara’s brushed against it to take the item from her. Knowing that she could hear her heart unfortunately just made it beat faster.

“Hm.”

“What? What is it?”

“I’ve refrained from feeding from you in respect to your injury. You need as much strength and energy as possible for it to heal; draining you would only delay your recovery. However,” Both the journal and her book snapped shut in her hands simultaneously. “I suppose a taste wouldn’t hurt.” She deposited them beside her on the end table. “And then you won’t be so afraid of it anymore.” Lila’s pencil was plucked from her hands and placed with its companion. A dryness started in Lila’s throat.

“Okay.”

In her current position, little movement was necessary. Just her back flush to Cassara’s chest, and her head closer to the vampire’s shoulder. And those ghastly hands were back. One to support her head, and the other to sweep away the hair from her neck, fingertips just barely grazing her skin in a fashion that seemed to double as a caress. This purportedly loving build-up Cassara favored made Lila shiver and burn at the same time—she hated it. Why did everything have to be some kind of event or performance? Surely the whole ordeal would be easier to bear if she would just get it over with.

The one hand fell from her neck to the curve of her waist. There, at least, she had the fabric barrier of her clothing to keep her skin from reacting any further. She’d been wearing loose dresses for ease of access to her wounds and so there was less to interact with the bandaging. They were fine, albeit a bit long, but Cassara said she was ordering some things custom made. The way she liked to hold her there, Lila wondered if anything would have the sides cut out.

Another shiver coursed through her body with the press of Cassara’s lips just at the tip of her jaw, behind her ear. She should have anticipated the cold, what with the rest of Cassara’s body being so unnaturally chilled, but against her near feverish skin, she half expected steam to rise from beneath her lips.

“You need to relax, darling,” Cassara said, planting another soft kiss farther down her neck. “If you’re this tense I’ll hit a muscle and you’ll be sore. And I won’t have you associating me with pain.”

“I’m—I’m trying,” Lila managed. “But this, uh, this isn’t really helping.”

“It’s not?” Her brows knitted together. “You should be enjoying this.” Absentmindedly, her fingers drummed against Lila’s waist. To the surprise of them both, Lila let a small whine slip out at the sensation. Her hands flew to her face, mortified.

“Well that’s new…” Cassara noted more to herself than to Lila. She let her hand experimentally slither up her side, astonished to hear Lila’s heart working even harder than it already was as soon as her thumb caught the side of her breast. Then it clicked.

“Oh!” She chuckled at her own ignorance. “You’re overstimulated, aren’t you? Is that it? Am I getting you too excited?”

Not how Lila would put it, not in the slightest, but she hummed in agreement anyway.

“You poor dear.” She clicked her tongue. “As adorable as that is, I really need you pacified for this. And I’d rather not have to sedate you every time I feed. But…” Her hand returned to Lila’s waist. “I will this once. Just enough to calm you down. But remember, this is an exception. You must be able to handle this in the future.”

“Okay.”

“Answer me correctly.”

“Yes, Cassara.”

And tension seeped out of Lila almost instantly. Not to where her body felt like lead, but rather as if she were close to falling asleep. Her mind felt similarly. She wasn’t tired, and she wasn’t absent, like she would be if drunken, but it was just as pleasant.

“That’s a good girl.” A kiss to her cheek. “Much quieter now.”

She was right. Lila’s heart was sinking back into its usual pattern. Cassara peppered a few kisses along her neck to make sure it would stay like that. She didn’t even shiver this time.

“Perfect.” Another kiss, this one slow over the target area. “Just stay like that for me, pet.”

Icicles punched into the meat of her neck, tearing through the layers of skin and flesh in a single stabbing motion, a brief yet violent sting that instantly made the surrounding skin tender. Blood pulsed out of her body in hot waves that clashed with the freezing mouth clamped around her neck. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from embarrassing herself any further.

Though it felt like an eternity, it ended mere minutes after that first puncture. Cassara’s tongue pressed against the wounds as soon as her fangs carefully retreated. It stayed there until the bleeding finally stopped, and she thankfully dried Lila’s neck of her saliva with the end of her sleeve. She rotated her in her grip so she was cradling her, Lila’s eyes landing on the faint flush of her cheeks, which she wasn’t aware was even possible.

“Goodness,” Cassara breathed. “You’ll have to heal up quickly. I haven’t had anything that dizzying in a while.” She exhaled. “Now that wasn’t so scary, was it?”

Lila didn’t remember crying, but there were tears pooling in her eyes, drying on her cheeks.

“No,” she squeaked. Cassara wiped Lila’s eyes with her knuckle.

“You were so good, my sweet. Such a good girl. But I won’t help you next time, remember? We’ll have to work on this little problem of yours.”

Either to make a point or just to tease her, Cassara dipped her head and kissed Lila maybe a bit too hard. Lila couldn’t get herself to move her lips, but, rest assured, she had enough blood still in her to race to her cheeks. Cassara giggled at the feeling.

Lila was going to be sick.

~~~

Truly there was no God. If there was, Lila would have been born with thorns jutting from her skin. She would have talons and venom that eroded through anything it touched. Instead she was small and fragile and useless. Her nails were blunt, her bones were broken, and her body was sheathed by unnaturally brawny arms that retained their unconquerable strength even when paralyzed by sleep. She’d punch herself if she could even move.

So this was why Cassara had her go to bed before she did herself. To trap her. To humiliate her. Lila had noticed her gradually inching closer to her each night, but thought it better not to acknowledge it. She thought the goal was to achieve closeness and leech the warmth from her body like the vampire she was. Of course this is what it became. Lila was so fucking stupid. She shouldn’t have woken up. She should have waited, let the monster wake first, let her be disappointed that Lila never noticed what she’d done. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Lucky for her, and likely to whatever cruel demon’s delight, her heaving chest caught Cassara’s attention. Her arms relaxed just the slightest as she stirred. Once open, her eyes fell to Lila’s head against her chest. And then she held her tighter.

“Well hello, my treasure,” she purred. “And how are we today?”

“I can’t breathe.” Lila’s voice was flat.

“Clearly you can, otherwise you wouldn’t be talking.”

Silence. She had Lila’s back to her, so she felt when her middle stopped moving beneath her arms. She unfolded them. Lila rolled a foot away.

“Darling?” Cassara pulled herself up onto her hands. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Lila sat up as well, moved to slide off the bed.

“I need to use the bathroom.” She pushed her hands into the edge in an attempt to stand.

“Hold on,” Cassara got out of bed to catch Lila by the elbows before she lost her balance. “You need more time before you can start walking.” Lila huffed, but let Cassara pick her up without complaint. “You know this.”

For a moment she studied her pet’s body language; head pointedly turned away, arms folded and hands in fists. Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re not menstruating, are you?” She brought her nose down to Lila’s neck. “You don’t smell any different.”

“No!” Lila squished her head into her shoulder, forcing Cassara off. Then, after a beat, “Can you actually smell that?” Cassara readjusted her in her arms and headed for the bathroom.

“Blood changes with these kinds of things. Smell, taste. Depends on the person’s body.” She thought for a second. “Maybe I should track that. Don’t want you making a mess of my sheets.” Lila elected to ignore that.

“Does it taste good? When it’s like that?”

“It’s a matter of preference. And typically a major factor regarding what sexes one feeds from. It’s partially why I tend to go for women. Though, no, blood from the start of the menstrual cycle is not my favorite.”

“Why else?” Cassara had the audacity to smirk down at her.

“Go ahead and look at yourself, love,” She teased. “That’s why.” Lila redirected her eyes again, Cassara laughing at how her lower lip puffed out, nose all scrunched up.

Lila got to do her business by herself, when they got there, one of the few things Cassara didn’t feel the need to supervise. This bathroom was small, anyway. Leaning on the wall made moving easy enough. The basin stand was there to hold onto as well. She was fine.

Except, staring down the bowl, hands clutching the stand’s edges, the overwhelming desire to shatter something came over her. How long had it been? Three weeks? A month? Her ankle had a ways to go before she could even think about walking again. Being tended to and pampered in this regard was a kindness she was certain she didn’t deserve, but the stolen autonomy that came with it was unbearable. Every action monitored, speech curbed, body held and crushed and bit without warning or consent. Treated like a child. A lapdog. A goddamned toy. Like she could drop dead and Cassara would just find a replacement without so much as a frown.

And that. She could feel it happening. It was creeping up on her, her giving a shit about what Cassara thought. She was beautiful, unfairly so. Lila wasn’t blind. But that didn’t make her good or trustworthy by default. And yet, and yet, the soft touches, the praise, the flagrant declarations of desire—it was getting to her. She was disgusted with herself for it. Was that all it took? A pretty face making her feel wanted? Making her feel loved?

It wasn’t love. She knew that. Of course she knew that. But fuck, she was starting to convince herself it was. There was nothing wrong or sick about wanting to be appreciated. Didn’t everyone, in some manner? She should have considered herself lucky for someone like Cassara to choose her. She should have been grateful that she took care of her, a pathetic coward of a person like her. She was thankless. She was degenerate.

“Lila?” A knock on the door. “Are you ill?”

She wished she was.

“I’m fine,” she answered through gritted teeth. “I’ll be right out.”

Lila wouldn’t look at Cassara when she emerged, or when she was swept off the ground again. Nor did she react when they eventually returned to the bed and stripped so Cassara could put something else on her. Instead she sat glaring into her lap. Cassara got herself dressed, picked out something for Lila, and came to put it on her. She let her, which was wonderful, but whatever was wrong evidently remained on Lila’s mind. Her flushed pouting was cute. This wasn’t.

“How about something to eat?” She offered. “Maybe you’re just cranky because you’re hungry.”

Cranky.

Sure, Lila thought. Let’s call it that. She actually was hungry, though, so she perked up some at that.

“Yes…please.” She’d almost forgotten that last part.

Cassara smiled and held Lila’s face in her hand, rubbed her thumb along her cheek, and sauntered out the room.

As she waited, she picked idly at a scab on her calf. Excluding her ankle, her wounds were almost healed completely. All that remained were, of course, some scabs (which Cassara tried her best to keep Lila from messing with) and a few little scars. Her splint was the only bandaging left. It might as well have been mocking her, the only thing keeping her from the tiniest semblance of dignity. She hated being carried like a fresh corpse. Also, her leg fell numb quite a bit. She hated that too.

“What did I tell you about that?” Cassara returned with a glass of water and a plate of assorted fruit. She handed Lila the glass and sat beside her, plate in her lap.

“Sorry,” Lila said. She knocked back the water like she wanted to get drunk off it. Cassara sighed.

“You don’t want any more scars do you darling?” Lila shook her head and put the now empty glass on the ground. “Then stop messing with it. Here.” She plucked a grape from the plate, held it out in her hand. Lila reached to take it.

“Thank y—”

“Ah, ah.” Cassara drew her hand back. “Pets don’t eat with their hands.” Put her hand back out. “Try again.”

Lila’s eyes flicked to Cassara, then the grape, then Cassara again.

“You’re joking.”

“I can assure you that I am not.”

Lila turned up her nose and crossed her arms.

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then you’re not eating.”

“Really?” Lila scoffed. “What does it matter to you?” Cassara’s lips twitched.

“A friend of mine trained her pet to eat from her hand and I thought it was cute. And, in case you’ve forgotten,” With more force than grace, she slipped her hand under Lila’s dress and shot it up to her thigh, making a point of squeezing just where it connected to her torso. “You still haven’t learned to control yourself when I touch you.” She leaned into Lila’s space. “Exposure will fix that.”

And of course Lila’s traitor body had to gasp at the contact. Make the blood flow exclusively to her face. Worst of all, despite the dragon circling in her chest, a part of her liked it. It wanted the cold fingers to run all the way up her side to her head and move against her scalp. To cradle her face and pull her into a kiss that made everything disappear, just for a moment. To just let herself enjoy it. The rest of her wanted that part dead.

“Come on sweet,” The grape was brought to her mouth. “Please eat something.”

She bit Cassara’s hand.

“Lila!” It didn’t hurt her, but she jerked back anyway. “I have no idea what has gotten into you, but I’m beginning to tire of your attitude.”

“Oh yeah?” Lila laughed bitterly. “Then you’ll fucking hate this.”

She summoned as much saliva as she could muster, and spat directly in Cassara’s face. Her stomach dropped instantly.

“Cassara I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry.”

The vampire had gone stock still. Slowly, she lifted her sleeve to her face and wiped it clean.

“Cassara?”

Standing up, the plate was put on the vanity, and she wordlessly left the room. Proceeding the buzz of the empty room came a heavy clanging paired with scraping against stone. When the door flew open, Cassara dragged a chain behind her.

“I have done nothing but cater to you.” She took Lila by the neck and locked a metal collar around it. “I care for your injuries. I keep you clean. I keep you comfortable.” Lila scrambled to get further up the bed, only to be snatched by the waist. “I let you sleep in my bed.” Thrown over Cassara’s shoulder. “Wear my clothes.” The chain dangled from Lila’s neck, trailing behind Cassara as she left the room.

“I have been kind, I have been gentle. All I have done is love you.”

She wanted to scream, or bang her fists on Cassara’s back, or kick, anything. It was as if every one of her muscles locked themselves in place.

“But maybe I’ve been spoiling you too much.”

Cold slammed into her upon opening the manor doors to the night air. She barely registered the statues on either side of the walkway, or the benches within the tall iron fence; her dizzied head had her seeing spots instead.

“You want to act like an animal? Fine. I’ll treat you like an animal.”

The gate arched, adorned with spikes matching the rest of the fence, emitting a loud, drawn out, eerie groan when pushed open.

“Because apparently,” Cassara went around the right half of the gate. “The only difference between you,” Slid Lila off her back and onto the dirt. “And the mutts out here,” Latched the end of the chain around one of the iron beams. “Is that you talk back.”

She went back around the gate and closed it behind her, making a point of locking it.

“I’ll come for you when I’m ready to deal with you again.” The smile she flashed Lila hadn’t even the faintest glimmer of mirth. “Maybe you’ll still be alive by then.”

As she turned back down the walkway, Lila’s body was suddenly under her control again. She hustled onto her knees and gripped the bars. She called after the rapidly shrinking form.

“Cassara I’m sorry! I’ll be good from now on, I promise!”

She didn’t even look back at her.

“Cassara! Cassara please! Please don’t leave me here!”

The doors opened.

“Please!”

And Cassara slipped back inside. Lila was alone.

Rustling from behind her had her whip around and scan the darkness. Cassara had been right—not a single speck of moonlight showed face. Even directly in her face, her own hands were invisible to her. No silhouette. How was it darker than inside? Even without candlelight, she could see her immediate surroundings well enough. This? This couldn’t be natural. Could it?

The bars dug into her back as a gust of wind shook the forest ceiling, skin prickling, teeth threatening to chatter. She pulled her dress over her knees and hugged them into her chest. Swarming with vampires. Were there any near enough to hear her ragged breath? Or the pulse in her ears? Could they smell her? Did misery have a scent? It couldn’t. She hoped upon hope that it didn’t.

Other things lived there too, none of which Cassara told her about. Excluding the wolves, she hadn’t even named anything that could be waiting for her. Or, rather, coming for her. What things lived in the dark?

Her eyes darted in every direction they could. Somewhere off to the side, something snapped twigs in half.

From the back of her mind, an image appeared of a thin, antlered creature, nearly all bones and an empty, soulless glare. Was this something real, or from a story she’d been told once? That would live in the dark.

And what of demons? Were those real? They could appear as anything. An owl, a snake, an insect.

Tears rolled over her quivering lips and dripped from her chin. What if they were in cahoots with each other? Vampire drains her, other monstrosity rips out her insides, demon takes hold of her emptied body. She’d be aware for all of it. Her screams would draw more in. She would be maimed. Mangled beyond recognition. And her stupid whimpering was only going to make it happen faster.

Was something taking shape in the distance? Was it coming closer? Oh god, she was about to die. She was about to die. She was about to die. She—

Light shone behind her.

“Cassara!” She cried, fumbling to turn around. “I’m so fucking sorry. Please take me inside. Please, please, please, pleas—”

“Hush.” Cassara refused eye contact all the way down to the gate, walked a few inches around Lila to unhook her from the fence. Lila reached out for her, waiting to be picked up, her entire body trembling.

“Knees,” Cassara ordered. She didn’t wait for Lila to figure out what she meant before walking back around the gate, chain in hand, but she understood as it tugged on her neck. She adjusted her dress so she could crawl without interference.

They went like that all the way back to the manor, through the foyer, down some halls, and into a room Lila had never seen before. It was small, almost entirely empty, save for several varying items hanging up together at the back wall. Cassara dropped the chain unceremoniously and made for the wall.

“Take it off,” she said, not even turning around. She observed the tools, tapping her chin, other hand on her hip.

“Cassara?”

“Now.”

Lila lifted her dress over her head the fastest she could, pulled the chain through the neck, and put it in a pile beside her. She sat back on her legs and covered her chest with her arms. Cassara had a fire poker when she turned around.

“You know I don’t want to do this,” As she approached she slapped the poker into her palm. “But if I don’t punish you, you’ll never learn.”

“But—but I thought—I thought you didn’t want—You don’t want me to associate you with—with pain?”

“Oh, I’m not the one hurting you.” Her towering form cast a shadow over Lila’s colorless face. “This is a direct result of your own actions. The only thing causing you pain is your disobedience. Get onto your hands and arch your back. If it falls you go back outside. Understand?”

Lila did so immediately.

“Yes, Cassara,” she answered. “I understand.”

“Good. Now,” Cassara slowly circled her. “What are you?”

“Bad?” The fire poker crashed into Lila’s spine and cracked against her skin, the numbing sting bringing tears back to her eyes. But she grit her teeth and kept quiet.

“Try again.”

“Uh…human?”

Another lash across the first.

“Starts with a P.”

…Oh.

“Pet? I’m a pet?”

“You are.” Cassara continued her orbit. “Who’s pet are you?”

“Yours.”

Lila shuddered with the third hit.

“My what? You’re my what?”

A puddle was growing beneath Lila’s face.

“I’m your pet.”

“Who do you belong to?” Lila sniffed, earning her another smack. “Who do you belong to?”

“You. I belong to you, Cassara. I’m your pet and I belong to you.”

“That’s right. Why are you being punished right now?”

This time she gave her two quick hits, one after the other, just for emphasis. Lila’s form faltered for a moment.

“You’re punishi—” This one came down harder than the others. She couldn’t even try to hold back the cry that wrestled out of her throat.

“Wrong. Why are you being punished and who’s hurting you?”

“I am.” Her arms were wobbling. “I’m being punished for being a bad pet and it’s hurting me. I’m hurting myself.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you.”

“What of you belongs to me?”

“Ev—” A sob. “Everything.”

“What are you?”

“Your pet.”

“What can I do with my pet?”

“Anything you want.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m your pet and you can do anything you want with me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I belong to you.”

Lila jumped when the fire poker clattered to the ground behind her. Her back was on fire, her muscles barely holding up, her head shaking as she openly wept. Cassara gracefully knelt before her.

“What are you?” Lila’s heart leapt at Cassara’s voice, finally as soft as she was used to. But she kept form, just in case.

“I’m your pet, Cassara.”

Cassara reached behind her neck and opened the collar, tossed it aside, slid her hand to Lila’s cheek. Lila leaned into it, sighing.

“Who do you belong to?” She lifted her head, marveling at the shimmering tears painting Lila’s beautiful face.

“I belong to you.”

Lila’s breathing was steadying, cries reduced to whimpers. Cassara wiped her face dry.

“What can I do with you?”

“You can do anything you want with me.”

The soft hands retreated, Lila whining at the loss of contact, and Cassara shifted to sit with her legs crossed. She smiled.

“Lila,” she murmured. “Would you like me to touch you?”

“Please,” Lila croaked.

“Use your words, darling. Ask me nicely.”

It hurt to swallow the lump in her throat. That last bit of pride.

“Please,” she begged. “Cassara please touch me. Please touch me, Cassara. Please.”

And with that, she opened her arms, her face the warmest it’d ever been.

“Come here, pet.”

Every ounce of stress dropped from Lila’s body at the words, her back falling, muscles heavy as she scuttled to Cassara. She had Lila straddle her lap and enveloped her in her arms. A hand pet her hair while the other rubbed her back. Lila wrapped her arms around Cassara’s neck, never wanting to let go.

“What are you?” Cassara whispered.

“I’m your pet, Cassara. I belong to you.”

From her back the hand slid to her waist.

“What can I do with my pet?”

“You can do anything you want with me.”

The other pried her arms from Cassara’s neck, pulled her so they faced each other, reached to hold her face.

“What are you, precious?” Lila put her hand over the one on her cheek.

“I’m your pet and I belong to you.”

Cassara rubbed her thumb at Lila’s waist, her other hand threading through her hair to the back of her head. She kissed her flushed cheek.

“What of you belongs to me?” Kissed her neck.

“Everything. Inside and out. I’m yours. Everything is yours.”

Her hand ran up and down her side.

“What can I do with you?” Kisses along her collarbone.

“Anything you want. Everything you want.”

Cassara kissed her nose, her forehead, the shells of her ears, the bags under her eyes, her shoulders, just above her chest.

“What is your job, morsel?”

She kissed underneath her jaw.

“To be good and do whatever my lady wishes.”

The closest thing to fire burst to life in Cassara’s chest, flowing through her monstrous veins and lighting her entire body aflame. She yanked Lila’s head to her own, nails digging into her waist, and kissed her as hard as she could. Lila melted right into it and snaked her arms back around Cassara’s neck.

That one part of her was losing its goddamn mind. Finally, finally, she let go and allowed Cassara to do just what she wanted. She loved Lila. She wanted Lila to be happy. To feel good. Lila just had to listen. Do what she was told. Why was that so hard for her? Wasn’t this so much better?

Cassara’s hand glided from her waist up her side, making Lila gasp when she squeezed a breast. She was soft. Her pet was so warm and soft. Cassara was a fucking genius.

A deep, deep loathing hardened in the pit of Lila’s stomach. She was wretched. Abhorrent. If there was a Hell, then she was sprinting right towards it. But Cassara was running her hands over her and kissing her breathless and she didn’t care. This was good. She would be good. She was going to be good if it killed her.

#whump #lady whump #vampire whump #possessive whumper #thank you for the support so far!!!

23 notes · View notes

t-aeddie · 5 months

Text

emotional ramblings about the dark urge that is keeping me awake...

becase, listen, i need dark urge aka durge fanfics that also address durge's trauma if we are going the redeemed route (evil durge is lost...)

thinking about how redeemed durge literally went from losing all their memories to having a tadpole in their head to having the looming fear of turning into a mind flayer while having to fight their inner demons along with feeling possibly guilty and ashamed of having these urges to remembering how they were betrayed and nearly killed by their sibling/fellow spawn to having to fight to the death said sibling to be dad's chosen child to breaking the cycle to being abadoned and murdered by their father (and it was a very gruesome and painful way to die too) to being resurrected and told "hey, there's still work to do"

and their upbringing definitely had to be also traumatic. being a bhaalspawn means that you are living the life "either you kill or you are killed" plus "imma just murder people to make daddy happy".

idk how durge is processing all that.

and thinking about the fact that durge (if you play as durge and not tav) is the leader of a group of people that also deal with their share of trauma...

and, now, im thinking about how in durge and [name of companion] romantic relationships and fanfics, durge seem fine and that really supportive partner. it's okay. but, imma need fanfics who use durge instead of tav to start thinking about the fact that durge needs hella healing to.

durge was born and raised to be murderer for their father. the level of abuse they went through. and then, we go back to what i originally wrote. the betrayal. the memory loss. the abandonment. maybe the lost of purpose because durge was groomed to be worthy of becoming the chosen. their dad literally put like 6-7 swords in them (legit stabbed durge in the back) and said "if you aren't going to be my chosen, i'm ending your life".

now, i feel like writing something. because, i haven't seen fanfics/drabbles/pieces where durge also dealing with shit. maybe, it's just me, but, if i was really durge, i would have massive abandonment issues after my dad just discarded me. i'd have trust issues too. hell, i would have so many nightmares involving bhaal killing me again and again. "you are not supposed to be here."

and imagine if durge wants kids? or durge accidentally gets pregnant? (or the opposite where i think it would be only shadowheart and karlach, because lae'zel a gith, anyways, shadowheart gets pregnant)? durge's concept of family is definitely warped and durge got to learn what family is. again, look what durge had as a family? durge's father is bhaal. bhaal ain't the father of the year.

wait, what if redeemed durge is being hunted down by people who want revenge? it is said durge has an over 100 body count (maybe even 1000)...

anyways, I've rambled long enough.

tldr; durge is a victim. redeemed durge is also dealing with a lot of trauma; however, it seems like i haven't seen fanfics that also include that. just the companion's trauma.

p.s.: i may be wrong.

p.s.s.: who can give me my dream story of redeemed durge & spawn astarion adventuring to find a legendary item so that astarion can walk in the sun + healing journey for the both of them + maybe durge is burying their own trauma while trying to help astarion go through things but also astarion trying to be equally supportive (throwback to how sweet astarion is when durge almost killed him)

#durge #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 durge #the dark urge #i am rambling a lot but i am emotionsl when i think about redeemed durge

31 notes · View notes

imaginesntingz · 3 years

Text

Imagine Gaara comforting you when the depression and anxiety hit

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Swearing(?)

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first post on this blog. I hope you all enjoy it <3 Please don’t copy any of my works. It’s all originally written and I put a lot of time and effort into my pieces. Please ask me before reposting.

————————-

You were curled up in bed staring into nothingness. The past week or two you’ve tried to keep it at bay, but you felt the ever lingering depression creeping its way in. Nothing in particular happened. It was just always there. There wasn’t a time you could remember it not being there. Sometimes it was muffled like background noise and other times the volume was turned up so loud it was the only thing you could hear. It was your constant companion following you like a shadow. And to top it all off, anxiety was right behind it. You thought about overthinking and overthought about thinking. Racing thoughts kept you up sometimes until the sun shone through the blinds.

Everyone wondered why you were so quiet at times, but they couldn’t hear the ass beating you were getting from your own mind that made it almost impossible to be in the present moment. Nor could you find the energy, the language, nor a fuck to give to even begin to explain the war going on inside you. Temari invited you out to what you thought would be a small kickback yesterday that ended up being a full blown party. Gaara, who was supposed to go with you, was inevitably called in for village business. You ended up socially tapped after just a few hours in. Although Temari was with you and you met up with some chill friends . . Although you were surrounded by people, you still felt completely alone. Although you heard the words coming out of their mouths, you couldn’t keep up with what they were saying. Although you were physically there, you weren’t there. You wanted so badly to just enjoy yourself like everyone else, but it was what it was. After pleading with your sister in law, you finally went home only to find that Gaara was still in the office. One final push that sent you

Spiraling

down

And there you were exhausted but painfully awake in the darkness of your shared room. You didn’t know how long you were lying there. There was no time, only the bottomless ocean that swallowed anything and everything you tried to drop into it. No amount of journaling, affirmations, meditation, prayer, movement, walking, entertainment, pet cuddling, food, water, medication, vitamins, herbs, epsom salt baths, incense, face masks or any of the methods you’ve tried felt tangible to you in that moment. What was the point when you didn’t even have the will to move? How could you think of going on a mission next week when you couldn’t guarantee you’d attempt to leave your room tomorrow? How were you going to take care of your hair if you couldn’t even braid, twist or put it up for the night? How could you call yourself a caring friend when you’re thinking about canceling the dinner you’ve already rescheduled twice?

“My love? Why are you still awake?”

Your husband’s soothing voice jolted you out of your inner dialogue. You hadn’t even heard him come in, too lost in the wall in front of you.

“ . . . Can’t sleep.”

You heard the sound of the door closing and hushed shuffling as he moved around the room. A few moments later, you felt his weight dip the mattress beside you. A warm arm wrapped around your middle, gently pulling you to his chest. His hand moved to intertwine with yours as he spooned you from behind.

“How did it go with Temari? Again I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go with you. I hope you had a good time.”

“It’s fine. It was fine.” you replied flatly.

Gaara caressed the back of your thumb with his own as silence filled the space between you. His lips met the skin of your shoulder and you felt your body gradually relax into his embrace. He was never one to push you when you weren’t ready to talk and always made you feel grounded back to earth with his very presence. Even amidst his many responsibilities as Kazekage, he always made sure to check in on you and provide whatever you may want or need. He would do anything for you if it meant you would feel loved, safe, balanced and happy. Gaara, sweet Gaara, was the love of your lifetimes and you, his. He knew you better than he knew himself and picked up on every detail. Your likes and dislikes. How you took your tea in the morning. Your sensitivities. Every expression. Your body language. The tone in your voice. The slightest change in your eyes. So it was no surprise that he picked up on the shift in your mood right away.

“(y/n) . . . Sweetheart, It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but please know that I am here. I love you more than words can express. I am here to listen and support you in any way that I can. I always will be. You know that, right?”

And with that, you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Your body trembled as he maneuvered you to face him. He wrapped his arms firmly around you, cocooning you into the safety of his hold. You buried your face into his chest and the calming scent of earth and cinnamon enveloped your senses. Your tears and running nose wetted the shirt he wore, but he didn’t care. Soft kisses were pressed to the crown of your head as his fingers trailed up and down the length of your spine, occasionally drawing soothing circles. You turned your head to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart pressed against you before finally catching your breath to speak.

“I-I’m just so tired of fighting just to be okay all the time. I’ve been taking steps to take care of my mental health, but it still feels like it isn’t enough. It’s like one day I’m fine and a couple days later it feels like I’m back at square one. I just want to exist sometimes. No expectations. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to be anything. I just want to be.”

He squeezed you gently at your words, pausing thoughtfully before responding.

“You once told me that your dream is to become the peace within and despite the chaos inside of you. The chaos all around us. You said that you wish to heal yourself and pass on healing to others. I know it is easy to lose sight of it when you’re in the midst of what feels like a never ending battle, but I wanted to remind you of it because I never want you to lose hope.”

Your eyes widened in shock and turned glassy as he continued on.

“You have brought me out of the depths of the greatest despair and have played a huge role in supporting me in healing from my past. Your love is medicine to my heart. There were times when I was lost that you reminded me to never lose sight of my dream. To never lose sight of what truly matters. Even in the most difficult times, you have always found hope where others have felt hopeless. That is one of the many reasons I love you. I am your husband, so let me be your strength when you are tired and feel you can’t go on because you are my strength, dear wife. We can get through this together. Remember that healing is a lifelong journey, not a destination. So take it one day at a time. Hour by hour or minute by minute if that’s what it takes. You’re so hard on yourself sometimes, but look how far you’ve come to be here. Right now. How much you’ve grown. I want you to know that I am so proud of you, sweetheart. I hope that you can come to be proud of your accomplishments too.”

A fresh wave of tears came over you, but for a completely different reason this time. You practically tackled your poor mans onto his back and your lips met in an intense yet equally loving kiss. His hands worshipped the expanse of your hips and time fell away. Vibrations hummed throughout your body as you pulled back to look into those seafoam green eyes. His red hair and pale complexion highlighted by the light of the moon peeking through the window. He was ethereal.

“I love you, Gaara. So much. I am so happy that you exist. Honestly when you speak so openly and directly like that I feel like my heart is gonna burst through my chest . . . fuckkkk. In a good way though! But seriously, thank you for being you. I never thought I’d be able to say this to someone without fear, but . . when I am with you, I know that I am home. You are my home, love. ”

His eyes softened before a huge grin spread across his now blushing features. Gaara didn’t smile often, but when he did it was a sight to behold. It was like feeling the warmth of a sunrise for the first time. An all encompassing glow.

He sat up and cupped both of your cheeks in his hands, tears now mirroring your own. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Do you know how beautiful you are? Truly? Your beauty radiates from the inside out. Honestly, what have I done to deserve you?”

“Sir, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? That’s my line. Fight me. Right now.” you deadpanned playfully.

A look of genuine concern crossed over his face. His hands settled on your waist and his posture noticeably drooped.

“(y/n), I would never fight you.”

“ . . . Gaara, I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Sarcasm?”

“Mhm.”

“ . . . Right. I should have known. I’ll do better next time.” he sighed dejectedly.

Your body shook with laughter at your man’s adorably serious face. He’s always trying his best. Only Gaara could go from holding space through your tears of sadness, to making you cry from happiness, to having you doubled over with laughter within a matter of moments just by being authentically himself.

“I love you so fucking much, my sweet Gaara.”

“And I, you. My beautiful (y/n).”

You both slept soundly that night in a tangle of limbs, not knowing where one ended or the other began. Two, who together, are one.

190 notes · View notes

extemely-thoughtful-person · 3 years

Text

On The Possible Students, Staff, and Ideals of Royal Sword Academy

Before you read this, just know that I don't hate heros. They stand for some good morals at times and they have their moment to shine. What I don't like is the character flaws that don't get resolved towards the end of the film.

I'm was bored, Okay?

With the recent conclusion of chapter 5, we were given a lot of new grounds to to explore and new information to apply and expand for the world building of Twisted Wonderland. The most important thing I believe chapter 5 has done is set the stage for what is to come in the future chapters. With the VDC, we got to take a quick glance at not only the students of RSA, but also it's Head President, Ambrose the 63rd. But, now with the chapters conclusion, what should we expect from the people of RSA in Chapters 6 and 7? Are the students any good? What kind of lessons are taught by the teachers? Is the overall morral of the academy is good or bad?

There are a lot of things we still don't really know about them, so I'm gonna try and figure out more about them through sources of current information and other things that we should be looking at. (Though there is a high chance that everything I'm saying is not going to happen, as everytime I make any kind of prediction, it never happens.😑)

Now, there are two things we need to look at before we actually start guessing what the school is like: the base of inspiration of RSA, and what we know from what we were given in the game.

Starting with the inspiration of RSA. The school is basically the twst base for all Twisted Disney protagonists, like the princes, princesses, heros, and their sidekicks. Basically, if a villain based character attends, or attended NRC, then their protagonist counterpart attends, or attended RSA. Simple. Because these are two rival schools, I have no idea who thought it was a good idea to build two academies that want to rip each other to shreds on the SAME F*CKING ISLAND!!! I feel really sorry for the town that's separating the two schools, because a lot of battles must take place there during the school year.

But back to the point, these RSA students are going to be based on the Disney protagonists, which is actually very important to note. This is where we dive into the films that the characters are based off of.

Disney inspiration

The old Disney films are some of the best pieces of animated art ever to hit the big screen, and I'm positive many of you reading this grew up with these movies. They always make up some part of your childhood. But, unlike you all, I never got to experience all of the Disney magic as a kid. There were only two or three original animated films that I ever got to see: Cinderella (the one I've seen a dozen times), Pinocchio ( the one that gave me nightmares), and Beauty and the Beast (I only ever saw this movie once or twice). There were certain movies from the famous Disney collection I was never allowed to watch, however: Aladdin, the Little Mermaid, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Alice in Wonderland, Hercules, and a lot more. Now that I'm older, and have the resources and time to watch what I've been missing, I'm starting to realize why I was never allowed to watch those movies as a kid.

Now, I'm sure you all thought this way at one point: as a little kid, you've always cheered on the protagonist, you've always said that the good guy is good and the bad guy is bad. You see the situation as black and white. One person stands for something great, while the other wishes to harm others for personal gain. You vote for good, you hate the bad. And in the end, the bad guy gets punished while the protagonist emerges victorious, loved by everyone, and always rewarded with a happily ever after.

However, as you get older, the line between good and bad starts to blur. You begin to realize why the "bad guy" is doing what they're doing, and starting to see that the "good guys" aren't always making the right choices. You start to see there is more to the people involved than them just being good or bad. Ever notice that the protagonists look more or less the same? Their always thin, white, royalty, or heros (not all of them are white, but I'm trying to prove a point.) They always have a charm that makes them stand as protagonists, but when brought together, they look more or less the same. They even have similar personalities to an extent.

The villains on the other hand are much more diverse with design, they have a unique appearance and personality that sets them apart from the "good people". Some are larger, others are taller, a few are very charming and manipulative, while others seem more comedic. They have a wide range of personalities and designs that make them recognizable to the audience. But there is also something else you begin to see as you become older, their motives. Not all of them have the worst intentions in mind. Many of them were wronged for being different. Some even fell from grace by suffering tragic events. Now, I'm not saying everything they do is right, and they still did awful things that merit some kind of punishment, but you start to see why they do what they did. You start to understand them more, and sympathize with them. Not every villain is good, however. There are some cases where the wrong doer gets what they deserve, but there are cases where they didn't deserve what they got.

Flipping to the protagonists, not all of them are great. And, again I'm not saying that to hate on them, but you need to remember, they may be the protagonists, but are they really doing the right thing? There are a bunch of times where the hero is dumb and stupid and replies on others to do everything for them because they're innocent princesses who are good and pure and don't need to do anything because they're perfect. Sounds like a Mary Sue, but sad to say, there are Disney protagonists who fit this description (looking at you Snow White). But not every protagonist is dumb, on the contrary, but their actions are a bit on the selfish side of things. Heroes like Ariel and Hercules made selfish choices for the sake of ✨LOVE✨, but in all honesty, they should've known better. Others hammer on the villains for self enjoyment, and when the villains bite back, they never once considered that the situation was partially their fault. The only thing they can say is " Op, this guy's messed up. Time to beat his @$$!" And then proceeds to kick them all the way to Hades (Sometimes literally in this case). And these characters are supposed to be role models for children! Now the good news is not every protagonist is like this, there are actually a few very good ones who mean well, still have flaws that make them relatable, and are rightfully rewarded.

My favorite example of this is Mulan. She wants fight on behalf of her father, works hard to pass the trials of war, and comes back in the end even though she was left to die. The villains she faced were blood thirsty and wanted to conquer more land and take lives. The Huns die in defeat, while Mulan is called a hero. In this case, the formula for good and bad makes sense and puts the characters in the right positions.

But sadly, there are cases where the villain gets wronged by the good guys, goes bad, and then gets punished because they were bad and wrong, and the "good guys" are always right even if they do something that's questionable. This is what we're focusing on, because 1: we have yet to see Mulan in TWST, and 2: because this case makes up at least a good portion of the movies used in the TWST universe. The movies listed here are in the TWST verse, and are what I consider to be in this category: The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Snow White, and Hercules.

The RSA we know so far

Now basing the interactions we received from the VDC, we have met what I like to call the Snow White Package of students from both schools. On the "hero's" side, we've got Neige, our Snow White, and his seven dwarf companions (I'm not going to name them all, because so far, their names are irrelevant.) On the "Villains" side, we've got Vil Schoenheit, our Evil Queen, Rook Hunt, our huntsman, and Epel Felmier, our adorable poisoned apple.

Now from what we're shown, Neige is a young, talented actor and influencer at the rank of number 1. He's also a bit naive and seems to trust others way to easily. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but this can become a problem. I wrote in a theory about Neige failing the VDC that everything is decided for him, and that he's controlled by the people he agrees to help. There are two things to take away from this if this is true.

Firstly, how he responds to the situation. If he's naive about the whole thing until someone points it out to him, then that would make sense. But it would make even more sense if he is already aware of what's going on around him, but he continues to act nice and pretends that he's not bothered by it, when infact, he is.

This leads to the second point, his unique magic. Though we haven't gotten a formal name or power, I believe that his unique magic is called, "Sing with me" Which gives him the ability to get others to sing and dance along with him when ever he preforms. The base of inspiration for this magic would be Snow White getting the animals to sing along with her, and help her with whatever she's doing, (read: do things for her). As for why, his awareness that he's being controlled subtly plus the fact that it bothers him is given away from the fact that he can subtly manipulate people to sing and dance along with him wether they like it or not. Basically, it would make sense for him to be able to manipulate others as he is manipulated on a daily basis.

The dwarves don't hold any importance right now, but if my theory about Neige's unique magic is true, then that would explain the shaky performance given at the VDC. The dwarves probably didn't rehearse very well, if not at all, so a unique magic that can make someone sing along with someone else regardless of whether or not they heard the song before would explain it.

As for Vil, well, he reminds me of Mega Mind. He always wanted to do something great, but he was always categorized as a player for the Villain role at a young age and was never given the chance to prove himself capable of the hero's role. His unique magic isn't just a reference to the Evil Queen, but also a manifestation of what he doesn't want to become, but was always the roles he was set as in front of the camera: a curse. Something unwanted, an obstacle, a disposable, selfish person who only wants to get in the way of the protagonist. What makes this so sad is that he was never given the chance to be something else, something better. People would always categorize him as the bad guy and never give him the opportunity to something greater. It's no wonder he hates the role so much. He wants to survive till the end instead of constantly being defeated.

What they could be

So, what about the rest of the students of RSA? (Besides Chenya. He's cool. I like him.)

Comparing the depressing and traumatic lives of the NRC students, the RSA students... well, it really depends. I could be wrong about this, but...

They could have two sides to them. One side that shows the world that they are the best, that they are successful and they always win. That their lives are perfect and that anyone who wants to be successful must follow their example.

The other side shows what's really going on on the inside, away from the adoring public. And that...is that their lives aren't perfect at all. They have trauma, or bad experiences that they try to cover up with a facaude that hides their true emotional pain. What other things could come out of this side?

A desire...no, a need to try and make their ideal images a reality. To show the world that they are right and they are perfect. That anyone who doesn't agree with them are wrong. They feel the need to cover up all of their pain, and continue on the path that the world sees them taking, the path that the world believes is the path of betterment. They are desperate to prove that they are perfect and successful in any and everyway. And they work together to support each other, making it easier for them to handle their pain and move on.

NRC doesn't, or didn't have that support. But unlike RSA, they aren't desperate to prove that their way of life is perfect, they're more focused on their individual futures, goals and objectives. They are more independent and creative on their own lives and march to the beat of their own drums. When a fellow student is doing something, and helping them benefits the assistant, then they will help, not for the sake of kindness, reputation or perfection, but for the purpose of getting themselves closer to their goals. This isn't a bad thing, but if you try to bring others down so that you can go up, then that isn't good.

But they don't have the same support system RSA has, meaning that instead of sharing their pain to make it easier, they are forced to bottle it up. And we all know how well that ends up going sooner or later.

But that leaves the question: Why does NRC want to beat RSA in the Magift tournament? Or anything else, really?

There are a few reasons. One, for honor's sake, of course. You'd definitely want to beat the people that won last year... and the year before that... and the year before that...

But this is a better reason for wanting to win besides just petty feuds and honor: personal goals and agendas.

Think about it. If a well assembled and trained team managed to beat a seemingly flawless academy's team that's been victorious for almost a century, then that would put you on a pretty high pedistal. You would be incredibly famous and popular. New opportunities would open up for you and your teammates. You could meet your goals and your dreams a lot faster and easier. And your life would improve greatly.

But, do you know what that means for the losing side?

That they were wrong. That they don't always win. That their lives are flawed. That the path they follow doesn't always guarantee success. That they aren't the best example to follow. RSA and it's reputation would decease considerably if they lost to their rival school, making NRC the better academy, making them the perfect academy. This means only one thing for RSA...

They can't afford to lose. Even if it means using tactics that involve questionable actions.

Like CHEATING.

That's right. I just accused the very popular and professional academy RSA of an act as large as cheating. Why? I must have some pretty solid evidence for them to do such a nefarious act. And I do.

Firstly, the fact that despite the constantly changing students and staff, RSA has won the inter school Magift tournament for 99 years in a row. That's a pretty weird fact. It must mean that either the players are really good, or they staged it with tactics that are against the rules.

Second, think about the next chapter. This theory about cheating would fit in perfectly with the character story arch for Ignihyde. I believe that the next chapter is going to be about fitting in. Belonging somewhere. Idia and Ortho are our protagonists. Both are charecters who like games. I imagine Idia having family issues with his cousins constantly playing games with him and Ortho as kids, but Idia always seems to lose to them because the cousins or family members change the rules of the game so that it turns in their favor. They do this for their own amusement and to make themselves feel like winners while Idia and Ortho are always left out of the fun, and called the losers. The Shroud brothers are cast out, only to discover later that they were playing a game that they could never win because it was always rigged against them. And this makes them mad. Idia vows to go above and beyond to be better than them in every way and to win fairly for once. Besides losing against his relatives, what else do you think he lost? Any chance for friends, his brother's life, maybe more. And he is not about to lose anything else ever again.

He works and studies hard and in the end he ends up winning, but also going a little bit to high at the same time. He maxes out on technically and magical power making him better than his competition, but also putting him in his own class of competition. This makes him feel nervous and unworthy of those who are higher than him, and distant from those beneath him. So he's basically drifting in the space between earth and mars.

If he ends up competing in the tournament, only to discover during, or worse yet, after the tournament that the game was rigged against them again, that they were never going to win anyways again, then the flashbacks would race over him with the speed of a bullet train, and he would snap. Hard.

It would make things worse if Ortho was also there and they both Overblotted together. It would be our first match against two dangerous Overblot victims, and it would be all RSA's fault.

Not only that, but it would send an even more dangerous message to the people than the one RSA sent at the VDC about not needed effort to accomplish your dreams. It would be: In order to succeed, do whatever it takes to win. Remember Kronk's New Groove? Where the little kid cheats so that their team can win that competition? Yeah. We would see the same thing happening here. This is a very dangerous way of thinking because that means that if you're crafty enough, then you can win anything and get whatever you want. Not only that you don't have to work hard, but you can take the easiest way and cheat your way to the top.

And how would that sit with the parents of the mages attending RSA? The school teaching their students, their children, that cheating is the only real way to win? That lying and stealing from those below you is the only way to succeed in life?

"But wouldn't NRC be the most likely school to pull a cheat move in the tournament? Heros don't cheat."

...(*pulls the wallpaper back and peeps a concerned face through*) ..."ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?!"

Because last I recall, I've seen numerous cases where the hero manages to outsmart the bad guy, pull out a trump card to cheat the system and do whatever the heck they want, and get away from the consequences of their actions because they are protagonists who are ment to win from the start. I can think of an example for all three of these, and all examples are from the movies twisted into twisted wonderland.

Aladdin outsmarted Jafar and Jafar turned into a genie and got trapped in a lamp for the rest of time. Alice angered the Queen of Hearts, but managed to escape the consequences of her actions. (Who was right or wrong in these scenarios isn't the point. What they did is.) And Hercules pulled the "I'm a god" trump card out of his back pocket at the last possible second to throw Hades off and get away with Megera's ghost. (This last scenario about Hades losing against a trump card and losing his temper afterwards is a great example of what could happen at the Magift tournament.)

And HOLY COW!!! I thought Crowley was the one who needed an interview about questionable morals, because if RSA was caught cheating against their rivals, who are completely oblivious to the fact that they were being played this entire time for a century, then it would make the students of NRC look like saints compared to their competition.

So wouldn't cheating be a terrible idea? If they got caught the consequences would be dire. But they've been getting away with it for almost a century now.

It's a risk they're willing to take to protect the reputation of their perfect academy.

But does this look perfect to you?

Thanks for reading!!! I stayed up really late to get most of this down sacrificing valuable sleep! Have a great day!!!☺️☺️☺️☺️

Eh... sleep is for the weak, anyways...zzzz.

135 notes · View notes

catbot158 · 3 years

Text

SPOILERS: IMPOSTER FACTORY FEELINGS

I wrote a post about Kan Gao’s new game Imposter Factory. I had some feelings about it. But not all of them could be conveyed in a spoiler-free post so I am here now to give a spoilerrific review of the game.

AGAIN FOR EMPHASIS, SPOILERS. LIKE A LOT. UNDER THE CUT. FOR ALL THREE OF THE SIGMUND CORP GAMES (TO THE MOON, FINDING PARADISE, AND IMPOSTER FACTORY)

Here we go!

When Imposter Factory was announced back in 2019, I thought I remembered Kan saying that unlike the previous two games in the series, Imposter Factory (IF) was not originally supposed to be a part of the Sigmund Corp series. It was supposed to be a standalone game, but somewhere along the way, it became a part of the series. I can’t find the source where he said that, and just like our pal Quincy, I thought that tidbit may have been a figment of my imagination. But after playing Imposter Factory and letting the game sink in for a few hours, I don’t think I am mistaken on my beliefs. Because...well...

Alright I’m not sugar-coating it: IF’s ending is bad.

It’s not the worst video game ending of all time (there are definitely worse endings out there) but it does feel like the most tacked-on ending I’ve seen in a long time. This most certainly feels like the ending was made just to connect it to the Sigmund Corps series, and the result is not all that graceful. Which is surprising, because To The Moon (TTM) and Finding Paradise (FP) both had wonderful endings that perfectly tied back to the game’s themes, and were heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. But IF’s ending, while superficially heartwarming and sad, is also lacking in a lot of ways, and asks more questions than answers.

So surprise, Quincy and Lyndi are Neil Watts’ parents this whole time, and the whole simulation we’re in is Neil’s created world where his parents don’t have to suffer anymore and he can fantasize about marrying his partner Dr. Eva Rosaline. Uh, okay...how???

Now don’t get me wrong, I was riding the emotion wave like everyone else when I was playing the ending. When Faye (the imaginary friend girl from FP) shows up, I was like “oh, Neil and Eva are a part of this game after all!” They hadn’t showed up in the game yet, and so I thought they were here to save the day. Up until that point, I had thought that maybe Lyndi was a rogue Sigmund Corp scientist that took her own memory machine to dream up a scenario where her former husband and her met at a murder mystery party and stayed together forever. It would kind of tie into Lyndi’s frequent bouts with imposter syndrome, feeling like she doesn’t deserve the life she has or what she accomplished in the field of science because her personal life got screwed up so bad. It would also explain why the old couple kept getting killed in the simulation, perhaps implying how Lyndi resents this couple for taking her research and using it for “altruistic” reasons, and wishing she never got involved with the foundation in the first place. That was what the game was hinting at, right?

But, no. Instead, it turns out the memories we spent a third of the game learning about and emphasizing with were incorrect, and Lyndi’s baby didn’t die; he instead was delivered safely and he was renamed from Tobias to Neil and took his mother’s surname for...reasons. Lyndi was the one who died when Neil was a kid. She was the one who went back and recorded her memories to be used for research, and Neil went to a different company (Sigmund Corps) in order to continue his mother’s work.

So then...why were Lyndi’s memories so different when we actually see them in the game? Why did they change when they did? They weren’t the focal point beforehand. Where did Lyndi go when she went “offline” to get help from the outside, if this was all a simulation? How did the simulation know what Lyndi would look like as an old lady if she never made it to old age? Why did the world get destroyed for? What did that do for the simulation anyway? That part was probably explained but the technobabble was so interpretable this time that I could not figure out why.

See all the potholes? This ending felt so contrived. And hey, I wanted to enjoy the ending! Neil and Eva are a great team that really felt like they could be more than just friends, and I want Quincy and Lyndi to be happy, even in death. But all these details add up, piece by piece, until I get to the point where the final moments don’t even resemble the first two-thirds of the game.

And this doesn’t even cover the tone whiplash the last third throws at us. Ricebot and the cat boxer were cute companions, but they felt so out of place after the more serious tone the rest of the game conveyed. They probably should have come with Quincy during the second third of the game, so Quincy had someone to talk and react to.

It’s just that I thought there would be more to this game than what we got. TTM and FP are amazing games with a lot of depth to them, and I still remember all the good things that happened in them even after long stretches of time not thinking about them. When I think of IF however, all I remember are the plot holes and Ricebot. This is why I said in my previous post that IF is the weakest game in the series thus far. The theme for this game gets left behind so bad, and it doesn't even feel like the game we started playing.

Kan said in the comic DLC that came with this game that his team is taking a break from the series for a while after IF, and I think it’s needed. The Sigmund Corps series still is a great series, but IF is probably not going to be a notable piece of its history. I dunno, for a game about imposters, its ending is very sus.

#imposter factory #imposter factory spoiler #to the moon #finding paradise #kan gao #video game #rpg maker #rpg games #Laura shigihara #ricebot #spoilers

15 notes · View notes

sunshineandcybertronians · 4 years

Text

I Care - Starscream x reader (TFP)

Word count: 2,002 Warnings: Starscream being threatening A/N: I actually wrote this after watching Shrek and being somewhat inspired from the quote, “I’m not the one a problem, okay? It’s the world that seems to have a problem with me!” It ended up straying away from my original idea and the quote, but it’s still good.

"What a fine mess you've got yourself into, (Y/n)" you sarcastically said to yourself as you climbed over a rotted log.

Since you had nothing go to do, you decided to take a hike with lovely Mother Nature. Life was getting hard to bear, so you took off without telling anyone. In hindsight, you should have brought someone with you, but the time you didn't particularly want to be around other humans. Well, you got what you wanted, because here you were: in the middle of nowhere, no one else around for miles, no cell phone reception, and utterly lost.

"It's okay," a whisper found its way out of your mouth, an attempt to calm you down. You undid the lid to your water bottle to take a sip. The water was slightly warm, however the wet liquid running down your throat and quenching your thirst was most welcome. To your dismay, when you screwed the lid back on, you noticed you were running low on water.

Grunting, you shook your head. "Everything will be alright in the end," you gasped. Yeah right. You will magically be fine, a negative voice in your head snapped.

Sighing, you pushed back the other voice. You needed to stay positive, being negative wouldn't do anything except put you in a bad mood. Staring up at the gap between leaves, you observed it was past lunch. The sun was beginning its descend through the sky after reaching its peak. Thankfully, the sky was clear and blue, save for occasional puffs sprinkled in the endless void of blue. It wouldn't rain. That was a good thing. But the trees stood tall above you make me feel small, insignificant, and hopeless. all you can do is pray for miracle to get you out...

Grunting, Starscream held the scanner out and waved it around. "Why is it that there is so little energon on this wretched planet? And when I seem to need it the most?" he growled.

Scouting for Energon had become a regular activity. Fortunately he wasn't terribly low on Energon yet. That's why the seeker would constantly search for it, to prevent that event from ever occurring. The trees around him made it difficult to move around. Starscream didn't want to exhaust his energy knocking down trees in his way or cause any unnecessary attention. Humans were not typically in that area as far as he was concerned. Although he couldn't never tell with that planet.

Suddenly the device in his servo began beeping, signifying Energon was near. In his excitement, he turned a little too quickly. The Cybertronian's arm hit the a tree he was standing next to. A cracking sound ripped through the air as a branch was torn off and crashed to the ground. Starscream flinched at his mistake. Anyone in a two mile radius would have heard that. Then he relaxed when he remembered no humans were around even hear it.

...That's what he believed until click later when human girl came stumbling in.

The seeker was shocked to see you. Humans weren't supposed to be out that far in the forest. Could he ever get away from the species? Your eyes scanned around to find the source of the loud sound. He didn't have enough time to hide from you, nor did he have anywhere to hide.

“Whoa,” you let out, eyes shining with amazement when they landed on Starscream. It was a moment of silence and just staring at each other. You took a hesitant step out from behind the tree.

Starscream snapped out of it. Appearing startled could be considered a sign of weakness, and the last thing he wanted was to appear weak to one of your kind. He had to put on the act of being intimidating to scare you away, to gain respect and before you could take a picture of him and show him off like a freak like every other human did.

“Well,” he chuckled, “Look what I found here. Are you lost little girl?” He took a large step closer that shook the earth.

Temporarily, your face was filled with panic. Your mouth opened, but no words came out. After letting out a breath and licking your lips, you began again. “Yes. I wasn’t exactly expecting you either. What are you anyway?” Your inquisitive nature seemed to chase away any fear.

This answer surprised Starscream; that you so casually spoke as if this was normal. He tilted his head in confusion. It only lasted a nanoklick. Maybe the human was simply dumb, he concluded. Or brave, one of the two, however he suspected the first one.

“That doesn’t concern you,” he managed to answer. A thought came to him, if he tried to grab you, you were sure to run. He smirked sinisterly as he kneeled down and reached out “You shouldn’t have stuck your nose in others’ business.”

Instead of running like he anticipated, you simply moved out of the way and pushed his talons aside with the back of your hand. The feeling of a humans skin was foreign. It was soft and warm, nothing like metal, yet still firm.

“No thank you.”

His servo flinched back, taken aback by your behavior. “Strange,” he remained perplexed, “most fleshies run when I do that.”

“Well I’m not like ‘most fleshies’,” you replied with your hands on your hips.

A brief smile played on his lips, a sweet, happy one. Then he remembered that this was an inferior species he was speaking to. His grin turned into a scowl at the slip. Although you were… different, in a positive way.

“Well, that appears obvious,” he started marching away, following the temporarily forgotten trail of energon.

Overcome with curiosity, you began following him and asking questions. Moving your legs as fast as you could to stay beside him at the same pace. “Who are you? What’s that beeping thing?”

“The great Starscream.” He couldn’t resist answering the first question. Another tree was in his way that he had to swerve to avoid. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to whatever you humans do?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know how to get back, and I’m not in a hurry to either. So, are there others like you? Why are you here? Your wings look cool. Can you fly?”

Your fascination shocked him. No one ever wanted to know more about him or was genuinely impressed by him.

That definitely wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of something that would last a long time, whether either of you wanted it or not.

After you helped him collect energon from the cave in the forest, you decided to stay with him. He seemed to not be pleased when you asked, but let you come. Maybe it was because he enjoyed your praise and amazement. For that reason, you were more open with compliments whenever they came to mind.

When you heard the tree branch crack before, you were thinking that the sound could mean people, people that could rescue you. Although you didn’t feel like interacting with humans, it was better than being lost. Never in a million years would you except to find a giant robot, yet that’s exactly what you found. Strangely enough, you welcomed this more than you would if it was what you did expect. When you saw him, you were suddenly filled with curiosity and wanted to talk, which was a large comparison from your previous mood. In fact, you were a lot more talkative and cheerful around Starscream.

Now you were lived within the Harbinger, happy in the crashed ship with Starscream. It had been several months since you met him and everything was more than you could ever ask for. You should have made friends with a Cybertronian a long time ago. You learned more about the ex-Decepticon and grew closer to him every day.

Currently, Starscream was talking, leaning against a wall, sitting on a box with you on his shoulder. You managed to coax him out of working. He needed a break. It was fortunate you were there; otherwise he would have fried his processor several times by now. It was healthy and necessary for him to rest.

"I was simply so tired of being their punching bag, literally in Megatron's case. Airachnid betraying me was just the last straw," he recalled the reason he left the Decepticons. "That's when I found who I was, Starscream, servant to no one." His chassis puffed out slightly from pride.

"Yeah, I'm glad you left them. Forget about them," you waved your hand out to emphasize your point. "You don't need their approval and it's their lost that you left. You're amazing, cunning, and determined."

"Yes," he sighed, "But the others didn't seem to see that. I could never quite gain the same respect from the vehicons that Megatron had." Sadness filled his optics at the memories resurfacing.

"By not beating them up?” You sat up and leaned forward to stare him in the optics more effectively. “Judging by how it sounds, you were nicer. Megatron would throw someone out the airlock for failing, but you wouldn't. Megatron's mean. You're better. You'd make a much better leader."

A happy smile lingered onto his faceplate, but the remorse hung in his optics. "Thank you. Still... they treat me as if I'm a fool, mocked me. What if that were because I’m a piece of scrap? I've made many mistakes, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to succeed. Maybe that's the universe's way of telling me it wasn't meant to be. That I'm simply... a mistake. No one likes or appreciates me. I have no friends nor companion." In a normal situation, he would never tell this. He either trusted you, or held in the insecurities for so long that they now flowed out. "No one cares about me."

"Then what am I? A potato?" The seeker looked confused and lifted an optic ridge. Before he could question it, you continued, "Look, I know I'm only a stinky human. If I could become a Cybertronian, I would. But I would do anything to help you accomplish your goals or make you feel better. You’re my favorite person in the world.”

"Really? You think so?" Starscream perked up. "I'm not a failure?"

“You’re not a failure, you’re amazing. Sure, you’re not perfect, you have flaws. But I love you anyway. ” Before you could chicken out, you wrapped your arms around him in a loving hug and planted a kiss on his cheek.

The feeling of his cool metal against your lips was something you immediately decided that you loved. Why hadn’t you done this a long time ago? That thought made you remember why. That’s right; because he might get irritated and either avoid you or kick you out. With that returned memory, you pulled away to reduce the chances of him becoming disgusted. It was also to prevent Starscream from reacting and smacking you away while you were still in the action. What would he think if he assumed a human was attracted to him? Wait, were you attracted to him?

You sat straight with a smile on your face, pretending you weren’t at all embarrassed or afraid of what he thought. If he inquired, you’d claim it was just on the cheek. It didn’t count if it was on the cheek, right? It was obvious he was still in shock at this and hadn’t processed the show of affection. His grin grew, in happiness and awkwardness. Flustered, he heated up and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. He opened his mouth, yet it hung open as he were lost for words. You laughed at this. However, you believed he actually liked it.

“If I knew you were going to react like that, I would have done it more often,” you teased. It was now official; you were definitely going to kiss him more often.

#TFP #starscream x reader #Starscream #tfp x reader #fluff #Transformers Prime

180 notes · View notes

friggsdc · 3 years

Text

Title: little delinquent pt iv

part iii | part iv

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly plot with family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4600~

Synop: It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

---

A/N: ee;;;; enjoy me not knowing what this plot is, idk tbh, but it’s fun to write. It’s more plot than fluff, which wasn’t what i meant to write sighs. I’ll probably write companion pieces to this that’s zero plot all fluff. The plot wasn’t meant to be so deep, but I mean, uhm… enjoy papa Bruce and mama Alfred~

---

[bigR] Dad’s upset.

[bigR] He’s talking less than usual, not even grunts.

[bigR] I think he’s ignoring me?

[you] crap

[bigR] Worse, there’s no news.

No news? True, you hadn’t seen the info feeds light up, the networks had been offline all day, but nothing from Tim’s side? If you didn’t hate Luthor before, well…

[you] this is giving me a headache ::dizzy_emoji::

[bigR] No kidding, I think he’s figuring a few things out.

[bigR] Patrol with B, everything’s unlocked, bb @ late.

[you] is typing…

“You sure it’s okay?”

The taller male gave quite the toothy grin, a large hand coming up to pull the awkwardly fitted shirt collar back to center, admiring your new outfit. “You can just bring it back later, besides, I think it’s cuter this way.” After a few hours and an incredibly long phone call between Jason, Tim and yourself, the three of you combined were able to get the suit to come off.

Tim said he still had a lot to go over, but that the laptop was actually incredibly useful. Much of what Tim had been talking (and geeking) about had been lost on Jason and you, too focused on Terry and wrangling the alien suit off.

Jason said he’d be jealous of the strange futuristic-like material if it weren’t for the second skin-like fit, happily poking fun at Nightwing’s taste in suits.

Most of the work was done on Tim’s side since he apparently already had the ability to take control of the suit. It was something you were rather… anxious about, but unlike the manor, Jason’s place had the advantage of no Bruce and no cameras.

So now you sat in the same pair of pants you’d come over in, the only pair of flip-flops he had. They were far too large for you, but your toes would have to hang on till home, and a large t-shirt that fit well enough.

“Muscle up, Buttercup” was written on the front, Superman’s flexed arm between the words.

“Your taste in clothes is…”

“Cheap. Like second-hand cheap.”

“But… why…”

“To spite Bruce? I pay more for job-related injuries than money I actually have, it’s been tempting me to go back to crime, honestly.”

“…you sure that’s not to spite Bruce as well?”

“I mean,” he shrugged, an impish grin on his face as he lightly ruffled the top of your hair, causing you to childishly swat his hand away, “isn’t that what everyone else does? It’s fun, you should try it sometime.”

“Uh-huh…” you were honestly too much of a—

“Daddy’s girl,” he snorted lightly, unimpressed.

Before slipping one of Jason’s unused backpacks on, you stuffed the batsuit in the bottom, and the jacket you arrived in on top. Turning just in time to see him picking up Terrence’s sleeping form with incredible gentleness, you cooed lightly.

“You know, you’re not bad at that,” he looked at you, frowning, ears flushing before his attention went back to the bundle in his arms.

“Not even…” instead of moving to take the child from him, you opted to stand still and just watch the interaction instead, as if a point were being made.

Big boy looked like he was terrified of breaking the child in his arms, like an heirloom British teacup, “You look cute like that, a giant teddy bear and a tiny uh... new bat?” Walking over, he turned his eyes to the side, not a single trace of anger towards the situation in his voice anymore, “don’t get used to it,” he muttered, unsure of himself. “But you could get used to it,” you smiled, taking the giant marshmallow from him, “he’ll be around from now on, you know. You’ll have uncle duties~” Your teasing only increased his rising timidness, “right…”

“Well,” he began, heading to the door once you had everything, “I’m already late for patrol, let’s get you home.”

Alfred had greeted you at the door and mentioned putting on some tea, and you gladly accepted, though not before you went up and changed. With the promise to be back downstairs in a few minutes, he took Terrence from you to ready him for bed. Adorable child was actually quite active, having tired himself out at Jason’s temporary housing.

Quickly, you’d headed to Tim’s room to empty the contents of your bag in his faraday cage, hoping that it was secure enough being in his room. Once you’d locked the safe’s door, you headed out of his room and down the hall to your own. Sorry Jay, but the shoes were uncomfortable, and the shirt kept trying to strangle you more than the shirt of a giant should. Pajamas sounded wonderful right now.

The now empty backpack was tossed to the side near where Duke had left the your clothes from earlier in the day, and a few immediate items for Terrence. You figured everything else was probably in the nursery now, hoping it was all waiting for you in the next few days. The awkward clothes you’d worn over the suit had been tossed on your day clothes, and then Jason’s shirt and shoes were dropped on top.

The shower was quick, and having changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, you suddenly felt sluggish, your shoulders now heavy with tightness. Come to think of it, your thighs also felt rather wobbly, like jelly… but the only strenuous activity you can remember doing in all honesty was… base jumping… was it the wings? It’s all you could honestly come up with. Maybe you weren’t used to such a thing yet, and as you rubbed your shoulders, you headed back downstairs to the sitting room. “Nn…”

“Sore?”

It was still too early for anyone scary to be home right now, so…

You nodded, collapsing on the small sitting couch, Alfred going to stand from his seat to fix you a cup of tea from the tray on the table. “I did a dumb thing today. I’m not certain if I regret it or not.” He handed you the tea plate and cup before returning to his original position on a rather regal looking chair, “I’ve already put the Little Master to bed for the evening. The Young Masters went to bed awhile ago, though I suspect, they are not, actually sleeping.” He gave an amused hum at the thought of Damian and Jon and what they were totally not doing.

He definitely hadn’t noticed when they’d snuck out earlier. Nope, not at all.

It was a long day filled with heightened emotions, anxiety, stress, confusion, and at the end of it, you were just so tired, and Alfred had always been your confidant next to Tim, and—

You tried to keep quiet as you spoke.

“I jumped out of a really tall building. Like… ninety feet up? I’m not certain, I was watching my life flash before my eyes.” He sighed and frowned into his own tea, “Master Bruce has already left for the night, Master Tim is accompanying him, as the boys are… supposed to be here for a night off. I really had hoped you’d grown up to be more intelligent and not as reckless as your brothers.” Or your father, Alfred mused, sipping at his tea, pinky out, the proper macaroni gentlebutler he was.

“I mean, I panicked, I was in a batsuit, I had a lot of intel on me, like, literally stole a laptop and backed up something called Project B (whatever that meant, though you had your suspicions having met Conner), there was a ton of guards outside going from door to door… I don’t have the same muscle mass to fight like my militant brothers, I was scared of what would happen if they caught me, like dad’s reputation?, I may have been overwhelmed by the—”

“—batsuit?” Ah, you looked up from your tea with wide eyes to see him staring, uncertain if the twinkle in his eye was worry or mischief. “Yeah, that. Uhm… Please don’t tell dad,” you sat up straight, gave him your biggest crocodile tears, and were about to clasp your hands together like a beggar before he waved your antics off. “I would not, not unless it endangers your life, Young Miss, you know that. Including young Master Terrence, of course.”

“This afternoon I must ponder over, What you did was, how shall I say, not okay,” he spoke, stern.

He stood to walk over, seating himself next to you while smiling gently, “though I must admit, I am quite curious as to the story behind all of this.” You gave your own small smile as you stared at your tea, “Yeah. I still don’t know all of it yet, myself, but… it’s actually really cool…” The two of you spoke in hushed tones.

Bruce may have been your father, but much like him, you were raised by Alfred, and seeing as you usually weren’t allowed out on the field like the others, your disposition was as Alfred’s was; support. It was something your brothers and father relished in when they had any extra time over the years. You loved to spoil them, and they were readily eager for it.

It was also thanks to Alfred that you’d learned you had a unique knack for espionage.

Your brothers were raised to protect themselves and others, getting to go out nightly on risky (and deadly) vigilantism escapades. More than that, they not only got to be of use to your father, but they were able to grow up around him, their lives dedicated to the same purpose.

To say you were jealous was an understatement, often worrying Dick and Jay at times.

To say you were your father’s daughter and just as like-minded as him was also an understatement. This was something Tim and Damian understood better than your two eldest siblings.

You were determined as heck.

You graduated from avoiding Alfred’s detection to stalking your father and brothers, skills honed even further as you learned how to use their toys and listen in on their coms system. It was your father’s own fault, leaving you alone all the time.

You would never be useless again.

You would never be left behind again.

“So, your brothers are helping you, then? I am glad of that, it means I need not worry as much,” even though Jason and Damian only knew half the truth, it was Tim who knew everything you did. Duke didn’t want to know and apparently Jon’s dad had warned him not to get involved with “bat business,” and Alfred… “If… If Terry’s parents…” how were you supposed to frame this part, exactly? You ere bothered by the truth of it, so... maybe making it sound worse than it was? If that was even possible... “if they were bad people, like really bad people,” as if suddenly remembering the walls had ears, you lowered your head and voice, barely audible for him to hear, “do you think dad would let me keep him?”

The both of you knew that wasn’t the issue, Bruce had no problem with the child staying, but…

There was something about the boy that seemed to be worrying you…

“If there is one thing I take great pleasure and joy in,” Alfred beamed like the proud father he was, “it’s that at least one of you children turned out more like myself than Master Bruce.” No, honestly, he was so glad you weren’t gloom and doom like your father and siblings, “I’m certain you could tame the wildest of beasts.”

His parentage held no ground here, the two of you understood the meaning behind the words, memories of when Damian met you for the first time after arriving at the manor surfacing, “I think you’ll do just fine with the child. I have all the confidence in the world.”

Maybe you were being overly paranoid about the whole situation.

The evening was finished in comfortable companionship between the two of you, and he’d shoo you away to bed long before it was time for the boys to come home.

After cleaning up and assuring himself that at least someone in the manor went to bed properly, he busied himself with the surveillance of the manor.

He made certain you wouldn’t be caught just because of his curiosities.

Through part of the night, you’d begun doing as much research into the relationship between Luthor and CADMUS as you had time for, the past few days having been spent going over only CADMUS information. That was until you got a ping on Luthor’s name written on several specific checks, and gathering as much information available. You looked for key phrases in the news cycle over the past day’s incident, as well as dating back several months. You’d even taken the chip out of your work phone and popped it into the laptop sitting on the bed in front of you, allowing network protocols to take over.

There was only so much the news would give you, so you checked in on security feeds from the area, keywords during phone calls used to see if anyone noticed, satellite intel snapshots, everything. Anything.

The time-sensitive channels still hadn’t opened, no information from other informants was anywhere in the Societies channel logs, not even the time-delayed backlogs.

Someone else was cleaning up.

Early morning, the best time to avoid anyone in the manor who had a night life, also just in time to get breakfast as Alfred made the first batch of the day. Though mostly for himself, he’d generally make extras as you’d often join. Heading down the foyer stairs, Terry’s barely conscious form bundled in your arms, you beelined to the kitchen, the smell your guide. “Ah, good morning Young Miss! I even made some for the Little Master, just in case,” Alfred smiled down at the boy in your arms, holding up a small bowl of minced and steamed veggies.

The kitchen was large for an older-modeled mansion, constantly rebuilt with minimal changes, but still cozy and incredibly sustainable. Between the door to the foyer and the opposite wall, where the door to the dining room was, there was a large table. Several shopping lists, foodstuffs, and cookware took up a good portion, but there as still enough room for a small few people to sit comfortably at once.

You smiled, sitting down in the chair the older male pulled out for you, then pushing you in, food for the child set on the table. You situated Terry in your arms, finding a nice spot to rest his bottom without worry of him slipping off, and reached over to spoon some of his meal to him.

Strangely, he didn’t resist much, yawning in between bites as you had to scoop up what tried to spill out of his mouth, “so, how old might you say he is? I’ve been thinking about it, perhaps about a year?” you nodded as you looked up, agreeing with Alfred as he sat down, food cooking behind him in the meantime. “I think… if not that, maybe a few months younger… he can stand, and seems okay with soft solids… I think you’re right, maybe a year?” his clothing size certainly seemed to think the same, Duke having gone to extreme lengths to get a perfectly fitted wardrobe for the boy. He even included a few different larger sizes for the coming year as well.

“Hm…” Alfred leaned on his crossed arms, rested on the table as he eyed the boy, “I suppose we could begin early development lessons with him, signing especially, but I think he can do more, words, possibly.” In response, Terry sneezed, food spraying all over the spoon and bowl in front of the two of you, his eyes still groggy as he slumped in your hold. “Oh dear,” Alfred hummed in amusement, standing to bring you a small terrycloth towel to clean up.

Terry gave a small grunt as he pushed at the cloth now cleaning his face.

“Gonna… Gonna have to get used to that…” the suddenness surprised you, you knew it was a normal human function, but you just hadn’t… expected it.

“I think there will be a great many things for you to get used to from now on, even I will have to relearn a few things. It’s been… a very long time since an infant was in this home.” He went back to finishing his and your meal, a nostalgic and wistful look masking his face. Bruce had no idea what to do with you when you were an infant handed over to him, and it amused Alfred to this day.

Thinking about it, you looked down at Terry, your chin coming to hover over his head, almost as if you were trying to nuzzle him, loud enough for only him to hear, “…mama. S… Say mama.” The child just tilted his head and cooed at you instead, reaching up to pull at your hair again ohdeargodpleasestop.

Releasing your hair from the child’s grasp and holding both of his hands in yours this time, you tried once more, “mama.”

“Mmba,” he blew a raspberry at you as he slurred his speech, becoming more fascinated with the bubbles he blew than your inquiries. “Mm… bah.” He let out a giggle, popped his lips at you and then smiled, trying, and failing thanks to your hold, to reach for your hair again. After several attempts, he settled for turning slightly, resting his head on your chest as he watched Alfred and all of the very shiny cookware.

You flushed, wanting to beam but also feeling incredibly self-conscious about the situation still, it was honestly a lot to get used to. Frowning in determination at the snuggly bug of a child, you tried a different tactic this time, “ma.” He was still more interested in the food being cooked, however, and you heaved a sigh into his head of hair. “Mma,” well, it was a start, and you repeated your previous chant of mama to him, your own eyes wide with what felt like pride.

Was this how Alfred felt?

“Mmba.” Well, as you said, it was a start. With a sigh, you went back to shoving food in his mouth, though quickly you had to wrangle the spoon from his mouth each time. “Stop… biting it, Terry…” you wondered how Conner had gotten so smart in such a short amount of time, wondering if Terry had still been too young when you took him from the bio labs at CADMUS.

“Ah, good morning Sir,” Alfred greeted, and your head shot up to see your father standing in the doorway, bags under his eyes and a yawn hidden behind the back of his hand. “Good morning, Alfred,” he stared at the older man with a frown, obviously trying not to say something. Instead, he looked at you and the child for a long moment, giving both of you a morning greeting. And even though Terry couldn’t properly respond, he did give Bruce the same challenging look as the last time.

He was looking for something out of the ordinary, however, the only thing in the room that was new was Terry, nothing else seemed to be amiss. But you could tell, looking up at him from the corner of your eyes, head still downturned, he was searching.

“Morning dad…” you tried to be light as you smiled at him, nothing is wrong.

“Daah,” Terry tried imitating, but it was lost in the rest of his babbling as he grabbed the food from the spoon. He was making another mess as he shoved it in his mouth, fingers fiddling around tongue and mushy carrots. Thankfully you still had the terrycloth to wipe at his chubby cheeks.

Bruce’s footsteps were as silent as his entrance, stopping next to you and squatting down, large hand, warm and gentle, landing on Terry’s head as he ruffled his hair, “I’d like to talk to you downstairs soon, okay?” He studied Terry for a moment, eyes as brilliant as his own, though it seemed like Bruce almost enjoyed the small head of hair in his palm. You couldn’t tell beyond the awkward chill in the air, but the two of them were giving each other knowing looks, both challenging, though Bruce couldn’t understand why Terry looked at him that way.

He made to stand up, pulling his hand away before Terry could do any damage, cheeks puffing out in a pout. “There’s something I’d like you to look into,” he spoke as he headed back towards the door, a morning coffee handed to him by Alfred, “oh, and you’re not allowed to leave the grounds for the time being. The tracker seems to be faulty.”

Considering you broke them often over the years, well, yeah, of course it was faulty.

Again.

The smile he gave you before he left was smug and you weren’t completely certain as to why, and it was making you really really nervous, “the League computers picked up something quite interesting yesterday.”

“Uh…” Ah yeah. Well heck.

Yeah, metropolis was both a huge risk AND your last outing, you were glad you took the chance though, even if your stunt escalated the situation. You were now officially on house arrest by the most observant secret-wannabe cop in the world.

Then again, there was no telling exactly what he knew.

He might be bluffing.

“Maaam… ah…” Huh? Did he just… Quickly as if borrowed from the speed force, your thoughts of Bruce and the problems at hand seemed to flee as you beamed at Terry. “Mama?”

“Mamhh.”

[bigR] Was able to give the drive a quick look.

[bigR] I don’t understand villains. I just don’t.

The hell did that mean?

[steph] c u soon <33

Ah, crap.

The table before Bruce had only a few pieces of paper and only two photos. You’d come home nearly a week ago with a new addition to the family, from where he still wasn’t certain. He’d checked and there’d been no missing infant reports that matched up with him, both in looks and location. Tim seemed to be in on it, hiding secrets along with you, and holding back when Bruce would inquire about anything even remotely familiar to the situation. Tim had also been keeping busy with something the past few days, and ever since you’d come home from shopping, he seemed unable to stay still, constantly fidgeting.

Then there was yesterday, when Duke took you out shopping with the boys while Batman had been at the Womb at the League’s watchtower, digging up as much as he could. Which, unfortunately, was just the few scraps of confusing ledes in front of him. The annoying part is how well you avoided the cameras, there were only a few times where he had been able to make you out, the rest he had to guess based on your profile that day.

The subsequent events had started stacking up in a rather annoying fashion. Your tracker’d been broken since you gave everyone a scare a week ago, returning with a child in your arms and something akin to paranoia. Even Tim had been clueless (until he wasn’t), and now even his attitude was giving Bruce pause. It felt more unnerving than bad, something making Bruce’s own stomach knot when he kept coming up with dead ends.

The day you’d gone shopping, the Womb had picked up something the news hadn’t, as the news was calling it nothing more than an accident, and it was that that gave Bruce even more pause. The worst part is that he couldn’t just take a deep dive into the LexCorp building’s system, knowing that much was out of their (or his) hands.

If Cyborg found out that Batman was secretly looking into a non-incident on the League system for family-related business, then he’d never hear the end of it from Superman and the others. He’d have to go out of his way to get into the building, and right now wasn’t the best time to do so, security was increased ten-fold. He’d have to wait it out.

LexCorp wasn’t even reporting it as an incident themselves, but the fact that they were being very stringent about the details, the increase in surveillance, Bruce felt it in his gut; an obvious coverup. The problem was why, there was no way what had happened had been anything short of problematic for Lex, and yet they weren’t filing any kind of paperwork.

They did their best to act as if they didn’t care, but Batman saw all the extra measures, and he also saw the information black hole happening.

LexCorp, no doubt, was scrubbing.

What he had been able to do, however, was gather two snapshots of a black blur that sped out of the building before disappearing into the thick of the city below.

About the same area where Damian’s own tracker took a detour.

“I preferred it when you used to use electrical tape to tape a transceiver blocker to your arm to hide the trackers,” Bruce hadn’t looked up as you approached (and you were dang silent too, even Terry was being chill), “It was much less of a headache.”

“Yeah, but that was when I was a kid. Nothing I do now can hide me from you anymore, the technology is different from back then.”

“Except breaking it.”

“Except that.”

He snorted as you stopped at the table, situating Terry on your hip, and looked down at the photograph that Bruce pushed over to you. It took every bit of training not to give anything away as you picked the photo up and gave it a once-over.

“This is…?” you turned your head to see him with that smug smile from before, tapping the image in your hand with his finger, “this is what I want you to look into.” You would have bristled if you hadn’t known your father better, this was some kind of trap.

“The same day you headed off to Metropolis, intriguingly enough, the LexCorp building had a break-in,” he paused to gather more words, rolling them around on his tongue before swallowing them, I’m worried, and you’re the reason.

“A break-in? I hadn’t heard—”

“No, you wouldn’t have. LexCorp seems to be keeping it from the public knowledge.”

“Then the League computers?”

“Was able to take a few photos from another satellite, these two were the best ones I could find. One of whatever broke in as it took off flying, and another of the same building a few minutes after. No police, no fire crews, nothing.” He was watching your reactions like a hawk, unfortunately you’d played this game so often growing up (learning to lie and stay out of trouble was a skill your brothers and you freaking perfected, even if they got into trouble on purpose), that it was really very easy to just—

“Uhm, but… dad, how? You grounded me, remember? That makes gathering any kind of intel like, y’know, hard.”

The smug smile was back as he pointed at the rather established medical area, the two of you heading over together, “you’re the information broker, I’m sure you can find something useful. It’s not the first time you’ve had to gather information from behind bars, after all,” you really hated how he still felt compelled to remind you of that.

It was once, in a country where no one knew you and where records were shoddy at best.

And on purpose, dangit.

You still weren’t certain how he even found out, besides, he and your brothers had done worse by comparison.

As he began removing the old tracker, you ignored the pain, the lack of anesthetic nothing new to you, too used to it at this point. Not that it was terribly painful. He was precise in skill, second to Alfred, you were too preoccupied with keeping the child still in your lap to notice what he’d been doing prior to your arrival.

All jokes aside, he’d finally gotten ahold of something that could yield actual results.

He looked to the boy again, staring at his familiar features, at his hair, like midnight, “striking how much he looks like us.” You frowned at him.

It was a statement.

The joke wasn’t lost on him.

Or on you.

#tim drake x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #stephanie brown x reader #duke thomas x reader #bat!sis

48 notes · View notes

a-bit-too-much-of-a-zelda-fan · 3 years

Text

LinkedUniverse Fanfiction Ch. 17: Swords, Shields, Arrows

Stop! You’ve Violated the Law!

So, you’ve stumbled upon this original post for my Linked Universe fanfiction. That’s okay, it happens to everyone. As of March 2021, I’ve uploaded the entirety of this fanfic to my Archive of Our Own page. Along with finally giving the story a name–Oops! All Links: A Linked Universe Story–I made substantial edits to some of the chapters. These range from minor stylistic revisions to fixing a gaping plot hole that kinda completely broke the character conflict in the earlier chapters. I also renamed and renumbered (but not reordered) the chapters. Specifically, this is now Chapter 19: Please, Don't Scare the Customers

The AO3 iterations of these chapters are the definitive versions. So, if you would like to read this fanfiction, please do so on AO3, right here. With this embedded link. Hehe. Geddit? Link?

Note: My screen name on AO3 is FrancisDuFresne. Yes, that is me. I am not plagiarizing myself.

Anyway, for posterity’s sake, the rest of the original post is below the cut.

In this continuation of my @linkeduniverse fan narrative, Wild and Four go on their own errand to find weapons to replace the resident amnesiac's busted sword and unwieldy Stalfos shield.

Word Count: 1482

Twilight and Wind had already left Madame Viliafore’s shop by the time Four and Wild had located an armorer. The town of Selggog was even busier in the late morning than it had been the previous evening. The sights and smells bombarded the two young heroes. Wild glanced down at his companion. The Hero of the Four Sword had to walk more briskly to keep pace with him, on account of him being a good deal shorter.

Four had planned to help Wild pick out new weapons once they had found an armorer. That was the main reason Warriors sent the two together. The moment they’d entered the store, however, Wild gravitated toward the higher-end swords. He picked a sword, tossed it between his hands, twirled it, shook his head, and chose a different one.

Four looked at the shopkeeper as Wild repeated this routine. The burly man behind the counter eyed the young knight warily. Four guessed his customers didn’t often test his weapons inside the store, if at all. Wild slowed his motions. He grasped the hilt of the sword he had been swinging with both hands, lowering it from above his head. When his hands were at waist-height, he stood still a moment. He took a deep breath.

The shorter of the Links watched in anticipation. The taller released his left hand’s grip and picked up the sword’s scabbard, then fit the blade easily into its place. He looked at Four and nodded. He strode to the shields, grasped an iron heater shield about half his height, fitted it on his left arm, and shook it a few times. He shook his head and tried a few more.

Wild stared at one shield for a moment before tilting his head to one side. He suddenly took off at a jog toward the opposite wall. He jumped, threw the shield to the ground, landed on it, and skidded a meter before he hopped off again. The shopkeeper had had enough. “Hey!” he growled, crossing his arms. “This isn’t a soldier’s barracks, kid. You’re scaring my customers!”

The young hero picked up the shield and checked the face of it for scratches. Content to find none, he faced Four and nodded again. Then he cast a glance around the shop. The Links were the only customers to be seen. The two of them exchanged a quizzical look. Wild turned to the shopkeeper. “Sorry, sir,” he said, “I’ve found what I want.”

The Links strode to the counter. Four passed a shelf with bundles of ten arrows each. He grabbed all fifteen of them. They placed their selection before the shopkeeper. The man scrutinized them. “What are two kids like you going to do with a knight’s weapons and my entire stock of arrows?” he asked.

Four looked up and stared the man in the eyes. He knew he was only fifteen but still didn’t like being called a kid. “There are actually nine of us,” he explained with a very slight edge to his voice. “We’re travelling a long way. Between monsters and bandits, the roads are dangerous.”

A few seconds passed before the shopkeeper cracked a grin and let out a bout of hearty laughter. Before either Link could recover from his confusion, the man planted his palms on the counter and continued. “Hell, whatever you say. So long as you’ve got the rupees, you’ve got the weapons. Let’s see… two hundred for the sword, three hundred for the shield, and three-sixty for the arrows… that comes out to eight hundred sixty.”

The Links winced at the number. Four shot a glare at Wild. Wild shrugged. He didn’t want to show how embarrassed he was that they were dropping five hundred rupees just because he needed new weapons. Thinking back to his conversation with Sky and Hyrule the previous night, he decided to try haggling. The young knight imitated Hyrule and put a forearm on the counter. He looked the man in the eyes. “Four hundred,” he declared boldly. Four saw the mistake immediately and shook his head.

The shopkeeper laughed even harder than before. Wild’s half-baked cocky expression faded. “Oh, boy,” the man said when he calmed down, “I know what you’re trying here, kid. Word of advice, huh? Never insult someone by offering less than half the starting price.”

Wild gulped. “I… um…”

“Save your breath, I can tell you have no clue what you’re doing. Let’s say seven hundred and call it even.”

Eager to avoid any more awkwardness, Wild just nodded. Four opened his wallet and withdrew three silver rupees, four purple, seven red, nine blue, and fifteen green. After placing them on the counter, he looked back in his wallet to find it almost empty. He sighed then stuffed the arrows in his pouch. Wild grabbed his weapons and the young adventurers went to leave the store. Four shot off a quick “thank you” before the door closed behind them.

Wild quickly fastened his new sword and shield to his baldric. “Right,” he started, “now to the café.”

Four sighed again. “You’re lucky that guy’s well-humored. That could have gone really badly.”

“How was I supposed to know what to offer?”

They started walking. “I dunno, but definitely not less than half.”

Wild’s shoulders slumped. "The Captain is gonna be on my hide for weeks.”

Four gently nudged his partner’s hip. “Don’t worry about it, he’ll probably appreciate that you picked such quality weapons. I saw the way you tested each sword. Where’d you learn that?”

“Part of knighthood is being able to choose the equipment that will keep you and your wards safe.” Wild went silent a moment. He remembered how the Master Sword had nearly fallen apart from the abuse of the Calamity. “When I’m out in the wilds, I take what I can get. Give me a choice and I’ll take the best I can find.”

“You didn’t pick the most expensive ones, though,” Four pointed out.

“I didn’t like the most expensive ones. This one,” he tapped the pommel above his right shoulder, “was weighted and sized the best for me. I know my abilities and my limitations. I can kill with virtually anything you give me, Four. Still, my own skill only carries me so far. My gear needs to pick up the slack. As the knight sworn to protect the princess of Hyrule, I’m most valuable when I’m at my most lethal.”

Four had to give it to him, that was solid reasoning. When he himself had forged the Four Sword, he put care into every strike on red-hot metal. In a way, he viewed the sword more as a piece of art than an instrument of violence. Wild had a point, though: Before everything else, a sword is meant to kill. Still, something bothered Four about his partner’s phrasing.

“Wild, your value isn’t just in your ability to slay evil,” Four said, careful to avoid the word kill. Wild looked down to his companion. Four couldn’t identify his expression, so he continued: “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. You’re kind, caring, and humble to a fault. You had the weight of the world thrust on your shoulders, and nearly died protecting the princess. You lost your memory, but you still soldiered on and saved Hyrule. And you were able to wield the Master Sword, which is a testament to the purity of your soul.”

The shortest Link looked skyward and smiled. “Just look at all of us Links. We share a love for life and a sense of justice that drives us to protect the light. That’s what binds us, what summons us whenever Hyrule needs us most. I’d bet all four of my lives that we aren’t the only Links there have been or ever will be.”

A few seconds passed. Four glanced at Wild. The Hylian Champion seemed lost in thought, as if he were walking on autopilot. The young smithy had had to make sense of four fragmented personalities to achieve his full potential. He still couldn’t make sense of Wild sometimes. He figured, as the other Links had, that Wild came out of his adventure the most psychologically damaged of all of them—even more than Time.

Wild was shocked out of his reverie by a little girl shoving past him trying to chase her friends. The sights and sounds of Selggog rushed back to him. He stopped walking and shook his head to clear it. Four waited a few paces ahead. “Sorry, were you saying something?” Wild asked, still a little dazed.

Four walked back, reached up to put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, and smiled. “Not really, no. Let’s head back to the café and meet up with the others. They probably picked out some good food.”

“Yeah, sounds good. I’m down for a second breakfast.”

“Hah, you always are.”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #my own #my writing #fanfic #zelda #the legend of zelda #creator content #linked universe fanfiction #swords shields arrows

28 notes · View notes

magicalforcesau · 3 years

Text

Fragments of the Garden - Origins - Part 3

A companion collection to Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden

(ao3 link)

Satine started to sit next to Obi-Wan every time she saw him at breakfast. Usually they would break out into an argument five minutes in, but even still he started showing up for breakfast more, and Satine always came back the next day.

It was Cody that had suggested they go find him at lunch hour and Satine had agreed easily, because she definitely noticed despite his appearances at breakfast, lunch and dinner were still another story entirely.

That was how she found herself, carrying two plates of food and following Cody with his plate down the hall to that empty classroom.

“Is this seat taken?” Cody asked shoving a couple of the desks together, surprising Obi-Wan completely.

“I- No?” He answered automatically.

“Good,” Satine responded, “It was a long walk here and I’m hungry,” She set down her plate in front of her and Obi-Wan’s plate in front of him. Cody was already digging into his food and he struck up a conversation with Satine quickly about their Charms homework. Obi-Wan was a little too dumbstruck to join the conversation, but did listen to them talk as he ate the food they’d brought him.

The end of the lunch period drew near and Cody collected Satine’s plate.

“Do you not like desserts or something?” Satine asked, noting the slice of apple pie sitting untouched on Obi-Wan’s plate. Being asked a direct question he responded with a surprised blush.

“It’s not that I don’t like them,” He admitted, “My mother says I can’t have any.”

“What? Why not?” Cody asked, surprised. Satine however remembered the women’s icy gaze and stayed quiet.

“She says men don’t like sweets,” He averted his gaze which was very unlike him.

“Well she’s not here right now,” Cody announced, “And what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her!”

“Cody’s right,” Satine found herself saying, “Plus he likes dessert so clearly her logic is false,” Obi-Wan opened his mouth, probably to argue when they heard the clamber of students heading their way. They grabbed their bags and Cody grabbed their plates and they headed out.

Satine decided that tomorrow she’d bring him 2 desserts.

***

That night was their first Astronomy lesson. They were supposed to start much, much earlier, but the headmaster had, had a little trouble replacing their professor after the last one had been in some sort of accident. Satine couldn’t get anyone to specify past that, but she suddenly missed not having class when she was rolling out of bed at eleven to head towards the astronomy tower. The first years all went together, and she found herself walking next to Obi-Wan.

“Are you okay Satine?” He had the misfortune to ask, she glared at him, looking absolutely perfect as always.

“Make a note,” She told him, “to never wake me up, unless it’s an emergency,” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure when that would ever be useful information to have, but he stored it away anyways, with a nod.

They all sat on the floor of the tower as the oldest wizard Satine had ever seen, made his way slowly to the front of the class. He was holding a piece of parchment in shaky hands and squinted through his glasses to read it.

“Hello class,” He spoke in a raspy voice and Satine had to wonder if this poor man would even make it through the year, “I’m going to take attendance, please raise your hand when I call your name,” and with that class started.

Satine let her focus wander until he got to the J’s and tuned in right when Kenobi would be called.

“Kenobi,” The professor squinted at the paper, clearly struggling with Obi-Wan’s stupidly wordy first name, “B-Ben?” He decided on. Obi-Wan, who’s ears had gone red, raised his hand.

“It’s Obi-Wan, sir, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” He corrected, Satine could hear the embarrassment seep into his voice and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from snickering.

“Oh, sorry my dear boy,” He moved on quite quickly to, “Kryze, Satine.”

“I’m here,” She raised her hand, laughter coating her voice, and Obi-Wan gave her a sideways glare, but perhaps it had been worth waking up so late anyways.

***

“Good Afternoon, Ben,” Satine greeted him, plunking down his lunch in front of him (two desserts as she’d decided) and sliding a desk over for herself, while Cody did the same.

“Ben?” Cody questioned, and Obi-Wan just rested his head on his arms with a groan.

“Don’t you dare tell,” His voice was muffled, so Satine elected to ignore him.

“The new astronomy teacher messed up his name during attendance,” Satine said gleefully.

“She won’t let it go,” He raised his head back up with a red-faced glare.

“Obi-Wan and Ben don’t even look alike,” Cody noted with a confused smile.

“I’m well aware,” Obi-Wan told him.

“Anyways, Ben,” Satine attempted a straight face, “I went to the trouble of picking you out two desserts today and it would be rather rude of you to not eat them.”

***

Satine was struggling with a rather long and tedious history essay. She supposed Ben was too, because he’d hidden himself behind a textbook and she hadn’t seen him come up for air in hours.

“I’m never going to get this done,” She sat back against the plush blue couch with a sigh, breaking the silence she’d been dying to break for at least 30 minutes now.

“What part are you stuck on?” He asked without even putting the book down.

“I have all the information, I think,” She mused, “But I’m struggling with how to format it,” At that Ben did lower the book.

“Do you want me to look it over for you?” He asked and she shook her head.

“I was thinking of taking it to my mentor actually,” Satine admitted. Ben seemed to freeze at the mention of a mentor, but didn’t make any move to go back to his reading.

“That would be a good idea,” He agreed slowly, “They’ve probably written the same paper,” She could tell Ben was now attempting to hide behind his book to finish the conversation, they’d been friends for around a month and he just kept getting easier and easier to read. She grabbed the spine of his book and pushed it down.

“I’ve never asked you,” Satine thought out loud, “Who’s your mentor?” Ben froze again and she could see he was trying very hard not to avert his eyes, “I’ve never seen you with anyone else in the common room? Are they from a different house?”

“No they’re a Ravenclaw,” Ben started slowly, “They’re just much older than you’d expect,” Satine furrowed her brow at him and he continued knowing the answer would be pulled from him one way or another, “You know our fifth years aren’t a very big class,” He tried before trying again, “You know Qui-Gon right?”

“Professor Qui-Gon is your mentor?” Satine asked incredulously, Obi-Wan then did avert his eyes.

“Well like I said, year five isn’t a very big class, and people probably saw ‘Kenobi’ and decided to choose someone else,” He trailed off, “It’s not so bad I like Professor Jinn,” Satine shoved the book out of his hands and wrapped her arms around him suddenly. It was only for a moment before she pulled back.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” She told him.

“I- Well, yes,” Ben seemed a little dazed, but Satine thought not much of it, and instead went about gathering her papers together.

“I’ve got to run if I want to catch the fifth years when they get out of class,” She told him standing up, “I’ll be back later though, if you want me to look over yours,” He nodded, gathering his book off the floor.

“Alright, thank you Satine.”

***

The snow was falling outside the window as the train pulled out of the station, Ben was staring out the window, brooding, and had been for some time. Satine had originally elected to ignore it in favor of chatting happily with Cody about their Christmas plans, but as time wore on, she couldn’t take it any longer.

“What are you planning on doing for the holidays Ben?” Once the words were out of her mouth, she saw Cody wince and had a sudden need to backtrack and delete the last second of her life.

“Oh, the holidays?” Ben contemplated, stretching his hands over his head and readjusting to actually look at his friends, “My parents will be throwing their annual Christmas Party. I suppose I will be hosting,” Satine remembered then, Cody’s mention of the Kenobi’s parties and she suddenly realized that going home for Ben, may not be the joyful celebration it was for her and Cody.

“You should write to us!” Satine demanded, “I don’t know what I’ll do all break if I don’t have someone to argue with,” She exclaimed dramatically. Cody rolled his eyes, but looked at Ben and nodded.

“I could use a distraction from my little brothers, I’d gladly welcome a reason to hole up in my room,” He grinned.

“My owl could use the exercise,” Ben joked, but then added, “If I can find a way, I’ll send you an owl.”

The trolley came by then and Ben bought each of them a sweet for the ride home. Satine contemplated, as she watched his eyes light up upon discovering his chocolate frog card, that she really didn’t know a lot about him. She vowed that come next semester she would start to learn even more, but until then she was just happy to be on a warm train sharing sweets and laughter with her two closest friends.

#Obi-Wan Kenobi #satine kryze #cc-2224 #commander cody #obitine #prequel trilogy #clone wars #star wars #magical forces au

5 notes · View notes

takerfoxx · 3 years

Text

Well, in honor of the Rebellion sequel FINALLY being announced, here’s something I was going to do today anyway! Here’s the second part of the crew of Walpurgis Nights watch The Rebellion Story, stretching from Madoka arriving at the school to Hitomi’s nightmare!

Note: I originally was going to write this as one big piece and release it all at once, but then I realized what a dumb idea that would be, so it’s going to get released in chunks as they’re finished.

Note the 2nd: Every time a prolonged conversation takes place, just assume that they’re pausing the movie to talk.

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

G: You know, I can’t get over Tavi having legs, or Fee having hair.

Op: It does look good, I gotta say. Must’ve been a bitch to keep it looking so fresh though.

Ch: And probably sets fewer low-hanging branches alight or set off fewer sprinklers.

Op: As far as you know. That style is smokin’

…

H: Seeing all those boys is…weird.

Ch: I know what you mean. I mean, I can picture what they look like, and I’ve seen recreations, but even still…

G: It is interesting to think about. I mean, here it’s perfectly normal for girls to get into relationships with other girls. But there girls like us would be a minority.

Op: Can’t imagine why. Now that I’m seeing them…not really getting the appeal. They don’t even have tits!

Ch: I guess you had to be there.

Ok: Hey, is it true that girls who liked other girls got picked on a lot?

Ca: Well, that’s an oversimplification of a serious problem, and I certainly never saw it happen. But then, I was a little…sheltered. And yes, in some places of the world, that does unfortunately happen. And worst.

G: Poor girls.

Ch: And guys. It happens to the gay guys too.

Op: I never got the gay thing. I mean, using the word as an insult. Like, why would that even be something to be ashamed of?

Ca: That’s…a really complicated question, and I’m not sure I’m really qualified to explain.

G: Well, I think they’re just being silly! I don’t see how anyone could see anything wrong with this!

=Gretchen leans over to give Homulilly a small kiss on the lips. Homulilly is more than happy to reciprocate=

Op: GAAAAY!

=Homulilly smacks Ophelia upside the head=

Ca: All of…that aside, I have to say, this is sort of nostalgic.

Ch: Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?

Ca: Oh, relax. I mean, just this. The school. The girls and the boys. The uniforms. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be struck with an uncontrollable desire for penis.

Op: Though if you do, I know a girl who-

Ca: Thank you, Ophelia. Please don’t finish that thought.

…

Op: Ha. Still a rebel, even then.

Ca: You were. You definitely were. Even more than this version. At least this version of you is going to school.

Op: And Tavi’s the goody-goody, sneaking off…hold up.

Ok: What?

Op: Rewind it a bit.

Ch: Okay…?

Op: So, does this version of me and Oktavia…do we live together?

Ch: Huh?

H: What?

Op: How would she know about me slacking on my homework after school if she wasn’t there? Like, in the same house?

Ca: W-Well, friends visit after school, sometimes to work on homework…

Ok: No, I’m going with Ophelia. We were totally shacking up. I mean, look at us. Look how irritated I am with her. That is love.

Ca: Girls, I hate to burst your bubble, but nobody was actually dating anyone back then.

Op: Oh, come on! Look at us!

Ok: Yeah, I mean the only other explanation is…

=silence=

Op: Is what? What are you…Oh, my God.

G: What’s wrong?

=Ophelia and Oktavia both start to look very uncomfortable=

Op: Candy, tell us the honest truth here: are we sisters?

Ca: What?!

Ch: Oh my God, I’m not hearing this.

Op: If you hid it so we wouldn’t freak out, I understand, but we really need to know-

Ca: No! No, you are not sisters, and you did not live together in our timeline! You knew each other for little over a month when we died, and only really got along for about two weeks!

Op: Oh, thank the flames.

Ok: Whew.

Ca: Seriously, what’s wrong with you? I already told you your stories.

G: Yeah, and Hitomi’s known Oktavia and me for a very long time! I think she’d mention it if you two were related.

H: Plus you look nothing alike. At all.

Ok: Okay! Okay! It was a momentary slip of stupid! We panicked! Leave us alone.

H: Would you two have stopped dating if it turned out you were related?

=Ophelia and Oktavia exchange looks=

Op: Probably not.

Ok: Nope.

Ch: Great. Now that we’ve established yet again how degenerate you two are, can we please continue the movie?

…

G: Huh?

Ok: What’s her deal?

Ca: I…kind of remember her? She was a teacher, and I think I had her my first year. But it’s been so long that-

Op: This lady’s bugging.

Ch: Too many shots in her coffee.

Op: I don’t think that’s alcohol.

Ok: Look at the class. Look at us! We’re all as confused as…we are…huh.

Ch: Don’t think about it too hard.

Op: Okay, seriously! Who allowed this lady around children?

Ca: I can remember her being a little eccentric, but this is on a whole new level.

Ch: Well, as the first few minutes proved, this whole city’s totally drugged out of its mind.

G: Does she want the world to end?

Ok: You know, I’m kind of feeling her.

G: Eh?!

Ok: Okay, look! Way back in the day, before I had a reliable gig, I used to sub every now and then for the FIB’s music department, and let me tell you, after a couple days of trying to keep those sand crabs under control, the apocalypse wasn’t sounding too bad!

Ch: How bad does her class have to be for her to go that far off the deep end?

Ok: Well, me and Fee are in the class.

=Ophelia snickers=

G: Oh, I saw Hitomi!

H: Fantastic.

Ok: I thought you two were cool now.

H: Eh…

Ch: Hey, kids! It’s time to play, “Spot the important characters!”

Ca: Did our hair really stand out that much? I distinctly remember other kids having bright hair colors!

Ch: Well, if you have a bunch of characters that you’re only animating for one scene, then you gotta skimp on some of the details.

…

G: Oh, there you are, Lilly!

Ca: Okay, this part I remember as being fairly accurate.

H: Huh?

Ca: I mean the bit about you being a transfer student and having been in the hospital for a while.

H: Ah.

=pause=

H: My God, I look stupid.

G: Don’t say that! You look cute!

H: Did I really wear my hair like that?

Ca: Well, no. You wore it straight. And I don’t remember there being glasses.

…

Ca: This part…is different though.

G: Really? How so?

Ca: I didn’t know Homulilly before she showed up.

Op: Yeah, you talked about that before. She just sort of appeared out of nowhere one day?

Ca: Yes. And pretty much just…aggressively inserted herself into our group. I mean, she wasn’t rude about it, but…

H: I was a time-traveler trying to save the only person that had ever cared about me from a terrible fate and had already failed several times. No doubt I wanted to skip the pleasantries.

Ca: I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything negative.

H: No offense taken.

Ok: So basically, you had reloaded your save over and over and was skipping the cutscenes so you could get to work on the part you were having trouble on.

H: That is…a remarkably accurate way of putting it. At least I assume that was the reason. I don’t know anything other than I was told, and to be quite frank, I’m glad of it.

Op: Hear fuckin’ hear.

Ok: Cheers. Oh, uh, sorry, Candy.

Ca: Don’t worry about it.

…

Ok: Well, Candy’s really talking you up. Guess you were kind of an ass-kicker, Homulilly.

H: No, it’s like the other version of me said. I was probably in a support role.

Ch: What, with the time-stop thing?

H: Yes.

Ok: Support role, my scaly ass! That is like the most OP power ever! I mean, what could I do?

=pause=

Ok: Uh, that wasn’t a rhetorical question. Candy, what could I do?

Ca: Oh, uh. In addition to your sword, you could use boost pads to jump and heal very quickly.

Op: So a tank, basically.

Ok: See? Just take and give damage! Basic as hell! Now time-stop, that’s a power with some class!

Ch: Plus time-travel.

Ok: Yeah, that’s like the jackpot of unfair.

H: Didn’t do me any good. We all died anyway.

Op: We’re chilling in our expensive, two-story house in a really nice neighborhood watching all this on our expensive big-screen instead of getting our asses beat every night and worrying about homework. I’d say things worked out.

…

Op: GAAAAAAY!

Ca: Oh, come on. It’s just hand-holding.

Op: Look at that blush! Look at it!

H: She has a point. By all accounts I was already pretty infatuated with Gretchen.

=Gretchen blushes=

Ca: Fair enough. GAAAAAAY!

=group cracks up=

Op: Though, seriously. Were any of us straight?

Ca: Well, Oktavia did have that crush on that one boy that supposedly started the whole trouble, and I had a couple of crushes of my own.

Ok: Did you not see me earlier in the movie? I at the very least bisexual!

Op: Or Kyoko-sexual. Everyone’s gay for Kyoko! Even the boys are gay for Kyoko!

G: I don’t really know what that means.

Op: It means the boys find me incredibly attractive, but in a gay sort of way.

G: I still don’t know what that means!

=Oktavia leans over to whisper something in Gretchen’s ear. Gretchen’s eyes go wide=

G: Oooohhhh…

…

Ch: A month? So do the landscape shots just mean a time-skip?

Ok: Okay, we were joking just now, but this is pretty explicitly romantic.

H: As I said, it was at least on my end. Though I don’t understand why he has to be there.

Ca: He was always around, unfortunately. I’m mainly wondering why he’s being so quiet. Or catlike.

H: Why, was he talkative?

Ca: Very.

Op: Huh. Maybe that’s why we got Cheese. We were just used to the animal companion that wouldn’t shut the hell-

=Cheese starts screeching from the other room=

C: Pickinilly! Pickidelly! Picadely whore!

Ch: Great, now you’ve set him off.

=Cheese flies into the room and lands on Homulilly’s flower. She tries not to laugh as he prances about before spying the movie playing=

C: Rat bastard! Rat bastard! Rat bastard!

Op: Where’d he learn that? I didn’t teach him that.

C: Rat bastard! Rat bastard!

Ch: Oh, for the love of…Here, I’ll take him.

=Charlotte offers Cheese her arm, and takes him outside=

Op: I’ll say this: the bird might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he is smart.

Ok: …did anyone else see the freaking dirigibles flying around in the background, or just me?

….

Op: Shit, those are a lot of airships. Hey, Candy-

Ca: No, those are new also.

Op: Something’s seriously off about this timeline, then.

Ch: Who the hell is that?

G: Oh! It’s Hitomi!

H: Of course it is.

Ch: Huh. Guess she does get more than a cameo.

Op: Jesus Christ, does her entire family all sleep in the same bed? You could fit an entire studio apartment into that thing!

G: Well, we were apparently all pretty well off.

Op: You had a normal-sized twin with a bunch of stuffed animals. She’s captaining the HMS Spoiled Rotten in there.

G: She’s not spoiled!

Op: Look, there are like three queen-sized beds between the six of us. You could put them all together and they still wouldn’t be as big as that monstrosity!

Ch: Isn’t she like living with three other girls now?

G: So? That doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people have roommates.

H: They’re dating.

G: What? What are you talking about? That’s silly to just assume-

Ok: Gretch. C’mon. It’s not a secret.

G: B-But-

Ok: Poly relationships happen all the time.

G: I…how did you find out?

Ok: You do know that I talk to her too, right? And honestly, you’re making more of it than she is.

G: I guess so.

Op: She should’ve brought that bigass bed with her, then. Gotten some use out of it.

…

H: Who’s she calling?

Ok: Oh boy.

Op: Well, well, well! Violin-boy!

Ok: Fantastic. Hey! I sold my soul for you! Hope it was worth it!

Ch: Er, you okay?

Ok: Yeah, I’m fine. I am pretty curious though.

Op: Oh! Stood the fuck up!

Ch: Wow, he just shot his own rich girlfriend down to play with his stringy stick!

Ok: Violins are way more than just stringy sticks! But yeah, he did shoot her right down, didn’t he? Starting to think I dodged a bullet.

H: You literally died.

Ok: I know what I said.

Op: I guess Hitomi dodged the same bullet. Traded in one deadbeat for three smokin’ hot girlfriends. Can’t see how that’s not a win!

G: Uh, her family? Whom she still remembers?

Op: Er…yeah. That’s a good point.

…

Op: Oh, she mad.

Ca: Teenage relationships are just like that sometimes. You feel all these big emotions and-Huh.

Ch: And you throw up yarn all over your room? What’s going on here?

Ok: We’re back on that weird shit again, aren’t we?

Op: Does she not notice any of this?

Ok: She just got shot down by her own boyfriend. Cut her some slack.

Op: Did the bed just…Okay, it ate her. It ate her and threw up even more yarn.

Ca: This is all getting very…witch-like.

G: I thought only Puella Magi could become witches.

Ca: So did I. But clearly my knowledge is very obsolete.

Op: Goddamn, Homulilly! You butterfly-effected the universe something crazy!

H: How is this my fault?

Ch: Oh, there’s another freaky teddy-bear. At least we know how they’re made.

Ok: Teenaged angst?

Ch: Most terrifying force known to mankind.

#WN Rebellion MST

15 notes · View notes

2manyfandoms2count · 3 years

Text

You can count on me (I will be there for you)

Hi, I’m Elle, and I have absolutely no idea how you can hack into a computer beyond the usual *typing sounds* “I’m in” you see in movies. I have therefore decided to leave Max and Markov do their thing backstage while I focus on a little mother-son moment (which there’ll be more of later, of course). Enjoy! xx

Also, small warning: there’s swearing on the last line. I think it’s justified.

---

Chapter 7

Ladybug shivers as they step out of the Voyage portal. Chat Noir pinpointed a blind spot area in a corner of the Mansion’s lobby from which they could hack into the house’s elaborate security system, and Max managed to get all three of them in exactly the right place. Apparently Gabriel Agreste didn't think much could happen beside the grand staircase; remembering the time she'd had to transform there, the spotted lady thinks it's just as well.

While her travel companions huddle around Max’s computer to deactivate the cameras, she takes a look around the space, making sure to stay within the boundaries Chat Noir indicated. How Adrien managed to grow up into the warm and vibrant person he is, while living in this austere place will always be beyond her. Whoever thought that displaying a giant mourning painting in an already colourless room was a good idea clearly doesn’t live here. She supposes it could be alright, were the place a museum, but as a house? It doesn’t help the large volumes feel homey in the least.

“Alright, cameras are looped, we can move around now.” Pegasus closes his computer and stands a little taller. “So, what exactly are we looking for, and how should we go about it?”

“Physically, purple butterfly-themed stationary, and anything that could compromise Ladybug or suggest a tie with Hawkmoth,” Chat Noir lists. “Even though I think we have a better chance of finding the latter two on a protected file. It’s not like my- Mr Agreste to leave things lying around in the open.”

Ladybug nods along. “Where do you think we’re most likely to find those?”

“My best guess would be Gabriel’s atelier, and Nathalie’s room. She’s been keeping quite a lot of paperwork there, since her illness a couple of years ago.” Her partner shrugs. “And I think anything numerical would definitely be on Gabriel’s computer.”

“If that's okay, I think I'll try to access the data from Adrien’s computer, if he still has it in his room? I seem to recall seeing some links last time we connected to it, and there’ll probably be less security to bypass.” Max suggests.

“And less risk of leaving fingerprints, or anything that could make Gabriel suspect anything was touched during his absence.” Chat Noir muses. “Good call, Max. How about you go to Adrien’s room with Markov, LB, you go to Nathalie’s room, and I check the study?”

“Sounds good to me.” Ladybug smiles.

“Perfect.” Pegasus nods. “Should I detransform?”

“Maybe that would be wise. Let’s give Kaalki some time to recharge so we’re good to go later on.” She nods, and hands him a box of macarons she managed to ‘steal’ before they left. It’s not the Kwami’s favourite food, but it will have to do.

Chat Noir watches the both of them run up the stairs and separate at the top, smiling as Ladybug’s newest costume addition flutters with her movements. Tikki must have really liked the veil for it to stick through the transformation. It looks good, and it’s a good reminder that they don’t have all the time in the world.

He takes a deep breath and opens the double doors that lead to his father’s study.

The room hasn’t changed over the years. Some designers, Marinette included, like to sprawl their ideas out in giant mood boards, pictures, sketches and fabric swatches gradually invading the walls as their collection takes shape. Gabriel Agreste isn’t one of these people. The decoration is as stark as ever, despite an upcoming fashion show, pictures of Adrien pulled up from different ads, and marble statues seemingly being the only personal touches. The only real spark of colour is his mother’s golden portrait, at the far end of the room. He often wondered why it hung there, and not on the mantelpiece, or anywhere else in the room where his father could see it while working. He can’t see her not being a source of inspiration.

He walks up to the painting and swivels it to reveal the family safe. It seems like a good place to start.

“Plagg, claws in.” He whispers.

The dark figure swirls out of his ring and spins around a little, taking in his surroundings.

“Gotta say, kiddo, I’m glad that we’re moving out soon. This place always gave me the creeps.” Plagg floats up to the pictures lining the walls. Adrien can’t tell if there’s a hint of nostalgia in his eyes as he takes in the shots of him that were taken around the time they met.

“I thought the Spirit of Destruction knew no fear?” His lips curl into an amused smile.

“I didn’t say I was afraid, just that I didn’t like this place.” Plagg refrains himself very hard from knocking over, or straight up Cataclysming, Adrien can't tell, a frame showing a very proud Gabriel, probably at the end of one of his first fashion shows. “Anyway, what are you doing, detransforming in the middle of you top secret mission? What if your lover walks in?” He asks mischievously.

“She’s my wife now, actually.” Adrien grins, still giddy at the thought.

“I know, just wanted to give you the satisfaction of saying it out loud.” He grins back. “Consider it your wedding present from me; you get to be sappy for the day. Not too much, though, or I’ll end up retching on your father’s stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t come to that. I just need you to open the safe, like you did that one time? Then I’ll retransform, on the off-chance Marinette does decide to come and check on things.”

“No problem.” Plagg zoomed through the heavy metal door, and was back out again a couple of minutes later. “Whew- I don't know if it’s because I’m getting old, but it felt a lot easier the first time around. Got a little Camembert for my troubles?” He pouted.

“That’s weird.” Adrien frowns as he pulls out the cheese box from his suit pocket and tosses him a piece.

“Eh, I wouldn’t sweat it. It was, what? Ten years ago? More? I lose count.” The Kwami catches the cheese and gobbles it down. “Anyway, technologies have evolved since then, and you know your progenitor likes to keep up.”

“True.” Adrien replies pensively as they take a look at the contents of the safe.

The contents looks pretty much identical to the last time they’d broken into it. The same books are stored on the lower shelves, with a couple wads of cash. At eye level, the book about Tibet still sits next to his mother’s picture. The Miraculous Grimoire that had gotten him into so much trouble is gone, he notices, but he doesn't worry too much about it. It could just mean that his father is using it for his next collection.

There’s something else missing, though. He seems to recall that there was a flash of colour around his mother, but maybe he’s remembering it wrong.

He shakes his head to clear the feeling that it's something important as he closes the safe, and calls his transformation phrase.

Swivelling the panel back to its original place, he sighs as he takes in Emilie’s portrait once more.

“Oh, Maman, I wish you were still here.” He says softly. It breaks his heart, but the more time passes, the less he can remember her face. Sure, the paintings and pictures remind him of what she looked like, but picturing her spontaneously in his memories is becoming a struggle.

It’s actually this painting he generally sees when he thinks about her. It’s vibrant, warm, solar, just like she was. He wishes she could have met Marinette. She would have adored her, he knows. She would’ve treated her like the daughter she never had.

“If only you could’ve seen us today. I’m sure you would’ve been a much easier guest than Father’s turning out to be.” He lets out a nervous chuckle, and gently touches the painting’s surface. It’s something his father always forbade him from doing, but he isn’t there, it’s his wedding day, and one of the most important people in his life isn't there to celebrate with him.

As he slides his fingers over the elaborate dress, wondering if she ever wore one like this, and if so, if his father kept it, he notices that there are some spots which are smooth, almost cool, in the midst of the paint asperities. He frowns, and touches them again; they’re definitely metal, glinting a little in the afternoon light.

Tentatively, he pushes down on one of them. The button sinks below the surface, but nothing happens.

He tries pressing on two groups, located approximately at eye level. This time, there’s a slight whirring sound, and he feels the ground move under his feet.

He’s too stunned to jump out when he starts to descend below ground level, his hands automatically slamming to the sides of the tube, eyes widening in panic.

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug and Max burst through the doors just before he is completely engulfed by darkness. She’s pale as she watches him disappear, clutching purple envelopes and something else in her hands. Max doesn’t look too good either.

“Shit” is the last thing he hears as he travels to whatever dark corner of the Mansion the tube is taking him to. He's not sure who said it, but something tells him they all did.

#angst is coming #but also the happy ending #miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #mlb #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #ladynoir #adrienette #adrinette #fake wedding #one-sided reveal #aged-up characters #max kante #inspired by fanart #elle writes #yccom

11 notes · View notes

not-from-the-absence-of-violence · 3 years

Text

For we rise and we fall, and we crash on the coastlines (Only our love will last 'til the end); Chapter 1

thank you to @drowninginstarlights for editing! Heads up for Travis’ and Gable’s terrible dad’s and mom death!

the journey of a selkie, a cursed fisher, a lighthousekeeper, her aprentice and a very confused mortal as their lives intertwine and the magic around them grows.

or a selkie au with general folklore themes!

In the end, Uriel doesn’t even remember what happened. All they have are pieces of their memories, flashes of knowledge. They remember being afraid of the sea, ever since they were young. They grew up in a big coastal city, where the sea was as much your enemy as your only source of income. They remember their father, a deeply unpleasant man. They remember anger. They remember a fire, and a boat sinking, and they don’t think they’ll ever be sure what actually caused it, but that doesn’t matter. There was no doubt in their father’s mind that it was caused by them.

They remember, before that, being in school and being taught not to curse people, not even as a joke, and certainly not on the sea. Magic is finicky business. It doesn’t take much for things to get out of hand.

So here’s the thing. They remember their father spitting his last words at them, but they can never remember the exact phrasing. Must have been something like “may you dwell upon the sea forever,” or “may you never stray far from the sea.” It must have been, because they remember thinking Odd words for a dying man .

There is power in the last words of a dying man, they did not think.

After that, they couldn’t drown. They remember not being able to drown. They don’t remember the months after, the ones they must have spent on some shore somewhere, slowly realising something in their father’s wording must have made it so they couldn’t die. So they couldn’t ever leave.

They stared out to the vast expanse of the ocean, now both their prison and only companion.

William’s father hated magic. He was a wealthy man whose money made money, and he’d never seen any point in such frilly business as magic.

William’s mother, however, had loved magic. Not only that, she’d respected it, and believed that it was important to teach it, as much as any of the other fundamental truths about the universe. There were even whispers that her own mother had come from the sea itself.

Like anything his father hated and his mother loved, William adored magic. He’d stand and stare with great intent whenever his mother had shown him even the most basic of protection charms. But then she’d fallen ill, and then suddenly she was gone. Really gone, gone as in there was no trace of her left in the house, not even her body. It hadn’t taken long for Father to get rid of all her possessions too.

“She’s gone back to the sea,” William would tell people. They’d look at him uncomfortably, clearly thinking this was just a child struggling to process grief, but he always knew better. The only thing he always wondered is why she hadn’t taken him with her.

Years later, his father was on a trip and William was alone. He had grown up attempting to forget about his mother, about everything, but he couldn’t. He’d grown up to enjoy being left alone in his vast house where he never felt at home, spending the downtime between his father’s presence nursing his wounds.

He stared out of the window of the penthouse, dreading his father’s return, hoping with every inch of him that his father’s ship wouldn’t make it to port.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand there any longer, so he turned inwards. There wasn’t much left of his mother’s teachings in the house, his own memories turned fuzzy with time, but he had managed to snatch a single grimoire from the library. Bargains were easy, he imagined, and especially so for him. He too, in some way, belonged to the sea.

So in the middle of a dark, cold night, while the full moon hung heavy in the sky, he went to plead to the waters.

“I am not, I must admit, entirely sure what this whole deal is,” he said, the moonlight shining off the sand around him, “But you took my mother from me.”

He looked at the lapping edges of the water. The sea remained just the sea. The waves came and went.

“I get that you won’t just drown my father for me, and I don’t particularly have much to offer but-” he shuddered a bit, knowing what he was about to do was cruel and very dangerous, “You can take me, William.”

As he spoke his name, the wind picked up suddenly. It smelt of salt and distant rainfall.

“You can take me like you took my mother,” he continued, “And in exchange, I want you to make sure his ship doesn’t get here.”

The sea seemed to agitate, the waves picking up, dark even in the moonlight.

“Did you hear me?” he yelled, raising his voice over the rushing wind, “You just need to drown-”

As he spoke his father’s true name, the world went black.

He hadn’t expected to wake up, after that. It seemed fair enough, a life for a life. Maybe he would get to be a cool water spirit, scaring tourists. Or maybe a fish, with no memories at all. He did not expect to wake up and find himself a seal.

He knew about selkies, sure, but waking up and being a seal was still a shock. He stared at this new body, his new completely different body, attempting to rationalize what he knew was true - that it was him.

The other thing he did not expect was to wake up looking onto the ocean, and seeing a storm raging. There was a ship, tossing up and down with the waves, a very familiar ship. It was so close to port, but he knew that it couldn’t make it. It was sinking. His father’s ship was sinking.

He knew it was the sea showing him their deal was signed. He hadn’t known, not truly, the enormity of his choice until he stared at it, burning in front of him. He didn’t know how to feel as he stared into the sinking ship.

How many people had he just killed? What was he supposed to do?

He stayed there for a long time, looking on until the ship fully disappeared under the waves. Eventually, when there was nothing but dark wreckage on the surface, he dove down into the water. Time to learn how to be a seal.

At least now he didn’t have to be human anymore. At least then he could swim far away, see where the ocean currents take him.

It’s not like there was anyone at home missing him anyway.

Eventually, Uriel got their hands on two things: a small living, and a fishing boat. The boat was just a little too small for them, but it was cozy. She was old enough that her boards creaked in the wind, ropes faded and fraying, and the paint was so worn that her original name was entirely illegible.

Uriel couldn’t die, and they couldn’t leave the waters for too long,or they got antsy. They’d never gone away for long enough to test the ocean's patience, but it wasn’t hard to imagine the consequences. So living on the water was their only option, and as they still enjoyed food and food cost money, fishing it was.

It was a lonely existence, but they discover you can get used to even the loneliest things. They had eternity in front of them to learn how to do their job, and do it well.

They settled in a small town by the name of Safe Harbour. Uriel knew painfully little of magic to understand the how or why, but the town was protected somehow and the magic was strong. Everyone was perfectly content to buy Uriel’s fish, and never talk to them unless they spoke first.

Routine took over and life was almost pleasant. Uriel wasn’t exactly happy, but they imagined this is as happy as people like them got to be, so they pressed on. There was always more fish to be caught.

William met Uriel the only good way of meeting people, which is while robbing them. By now, he was perfectly capable of hunting for his own food, but it was such a chore, and a boring one at that. Other seals could tell he was different, that the sea owned him in a different way, and anway, he couldn’t actually talk to them. He didn’t have to be a seal, all the time. But it wasn’t like he could really talk to the humans either, and the vulnerability of being human once again always set him on edge. So he stayed a seal, and passed back and forth through towns, being a general nuisance.

The only consistent thing about his life these days was stealing, and that was practically second nature. So he didn’t think anything of it when he swam up to a small fishing vessel to get his lunch for the day.

He managed to climb up on the deck, and was about to flop back into the sea, triumphant with a fish in his mouth, when he heard a loud voice.

“Hey!” they shouted.

He froze, turning to look at the irate fisher. He wasn’t the type to be afraid, not anymore, but this person was incredibly tall with long, flowing hair that was almost stark white tied haphazardly back. They had the look of someone who had been on sea for years, but they also didn’t look older than maybe their late twenties. They were also holding a harpoon, pointed menacingly at him.

He wasn’t the type to be afraid, but he was, perhaps, a little nervous.

“I swear those damn seals get smarter every time,” they muttered.

He dropped the fish out of his mouth and sighed. “I have always been this smart, I'll have you know.”

This made them pause, looking at him baffled for a second before they let out a cry and charged at him with the harpoon.

“Whoa, okay no need to be rude,” he said, attempting to quickly move out of the way. But he was, in fact, a seal, and seals aren’t made for quick motions on land, to his dismay.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. He transformed into a man.

The stranger stopped again, the harpoon dangerously close to his body.

“Who are you? And what are you doing on my boat?” they say.

Travis couldn’t help but grin as he held up his hand, with his fish clutched in it. “I feel like it’s rather obvious.”

Uriel didn’t know how to feel. There was a man on their boat. That’s an undeniable fact. First there had been a seal, and now there was a very annoying silver haired stranger, wearing a ridiculous coat and actively stealing their fish with his bare hands.

They could deal with seals. They could deal with other sea creatures. They weren’t in any way prepared to deal with this.

“Asking for names, just like that?” he said, “How rude of you.”

They could feel more annoyance bubbling up inside them. “I wasn't asking for your name!”

The stranger smirked at them again, clearly enjoying getting them riled up. They should have harpooned him to death then and there. They’ll never know why they didn’t.

“Well, you may call me Travis Matagot anyway,” he said magnanimously, dropping the fish and extending a hand.

They stared at it incredulously, before deciding that their life was already so weird, this might as well happen. They shook it.

“You can call me, uh…” they said. It had been so long since they had to give out names like this. “Gable,” they settled on eventually.

“Like the roof thing,” he said, deadpan.

Gable felt their cheeks heating up. “Shut up!” they said, still holding a lowered harpoon in their other hand, “You were stealing from me, what makes you think-”

“I was hungry,” he said, shrugging. He seemed harmless, if very annoying, so they cautiously put the harpoon down.

“Can’t you fish? You are a seal part of the time, apparently.”

Travis visibly relaxed a little once they’re no longer armed. “Now, why would I, when I can have others do it for me?”

“You could have just asked me,” they said.

Now it was Travis’ turn to be taken aback. He stared at them. “What?” he said.

“I have a lot of fish soup,” Gable said, knowing what they were saying is surreal but being certain that by now they were far too late to stop this trainwreck of a conversation.

“Like in general?” he seemed almost amused.

“I always make too much,” they admit.

That's how Travis ended up in their painfully crowded combined kitchen and living room, his coat draped over the back of the chair he was sitting on, staring at a hot bowl of fish soup.

He almost wondered if he ought to accept food at all, but although he didn’t know what to make of Gable yet, they certainly didn’t seem the type to trap him eternally by feeding him.

Gable stared at him, almost self consciously. He almost wanted to pretend he didn’t like it, just to see how they’d react, but regrettably he was hungrier than he thought, and the soup was surprisingly good.

“You liked it,” they said, grinning.

“It was fine,” he said, stopping himself just short of asking for seconds.

“I have spent a lot of time perfecting that soup, Travis.”

He laughed. Time had been something of a laughable concept for a while now. “Well, can’t have been that long. How old are you, twenty five?”

That made his companion pause. They looked down and, honest to god, started counting on their fingers. “Probably forty by now,” they said, looking at him sheepishly. “No clue what that is in seal-man years, or whatever.”

He stared at them, somewhat intrigued at last. But not enough to pry, certainly. “First of all, you must have heard of selkies before,” he said. They gave him a blank stare that meant they honestly probably hadn’t. “And I don’t know either, we don’t age, exactly.”

Gable shrugged. “Sure, did you want more soup?”

“Well if you insist,” he said, passing his bowl to them.

They fell into this new routine together easily. Travis would come and try and steal things or otherwise be an annoyance. Gable would threaten him with increasingly odd weapons or just bodily throw him off the side.

And sometimes Travis stayed, and ate Gable’s repertoire of fish based dishes, or mucked about in the small space of the boat. They both occasionally went to town, although mostly separately, as Gable had the reputation of a gentle constant and Travis was rather more of a trickster cryptid.

They never talked about the pasts that plagued them or the curses on their heads, and they were both entirely too stubborn to admit this is the happiest they had been in a very, very long time.

There wasn’t a single moment that they realised they had become friends, and certainly not one they acknowledged. There was only a night, and a tipsy Travis falling asleep on the couch, his silver gray coat left behind, still slung over the chair he usually ate at. There was only a morning Gable spent staring at it wistfully, telling themselves they shouldn’t read into it.

There was him waking up, not for a second doubting his coat would still be there, safe and untouched.

And so in the fragile silence of their friendship, time pressed on.

#skyjacks #campaign podcast #campaign skyjacks #travis matagot #gable skyjacks #trable #selkie au

13 notes · View notes

detectivecarlosreyes · 4 years

Text

Good Things Can Happen After 2am

Also on Ao3 | Word Count: 1.4k | Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Day 4: Buddie + “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?” + love

@buddieweek2020

Eddie knows about Buck’s reputation. That he had this uncanny ability to both intentionally and unintentionally flirt no matter who the person was, he just had that natural charisma that people were drawn to.

The fact that he knows this makes Buck’s apparent obliviousness to his attempts at flirting so exasperating. How many hints must he drop that for the man to figure it out? It’s gotten to the point that Hen and Chim had started a betting pool over how long it will take for Buck to figure it out.

Thankfully, it all came to a head one evening in the loft during a quiet spell. Somehow the topic fell to the best flirting techniques and Eddie has his suspicions that Chim steered it in that direction on purpose.

“So, Eddie, what would you say are your go-to flirting techniques?” Asks Hen as he returns from the kitchen with a bottle of water for himself and tosses one to Buck who catches it without looking.

He thinks for a moment as he settles back in the armchair, “Uh, I don’t know,” he eventually ends up saying eyes landing briefly on Buck before looking away taking a swig from his bottle.

“I doubt that,” says Chim with a smirk, “come on Eddie, what do you do or say when you’re flirting with someone?”

Rolling his eyes at Chim, he adjusts his position in the chair. “I’d probably position myself in a way we’d just happen to be close enough to brush shoulders without it being obvious.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Buck had leaned forward, losing interest in his phone as he tunes into the conversation.

“I don’t know if this is considered flirting, but I’d learn about their interests and listen and ask questions whenever they start talking about them.” He sees Buck frown and he goes on listing his last ‘technique’ “And I’ll tease them, just to get a laugh or a smile out of them.”

Eddie takes another drink of his water, eyes sliding back over to Buck but before anything else could be said they were interrupted by the alarm. He laughs at both Hen and Chim who groan at the interruption, looking as though they were hoping for some revelations to happen.

Even with the team knowing and having the bet in place, he’s not in a hurry to make his feelings overtly known to Buck, happy to let the man pick up what he’s putting down. But now that Buck was now aware of how he flirts he wonders how long it will take for him to piece it together.

He just didn’t think that it would happen at the end of this call.

They were just packing up from the job and Buck was talking about his latest discovery that in Australia there was a war in the ’30s between the Australian military and emus known as the Great Emu War.

“… wait so you’re telling me that they had not one but two attempts at stopping these birds and they still lost?” he asks Buck in faux-skepticism to try to get a rise out him, “That makes no sense.”

“What?!” Buck exclaims incredulously with a light laugh and a smile on his face, “Why would I make something like this up? The military tried and failed to cut down the emu population because the birds were too fast and too smart.”

“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue and smirks at Buck, “You keep telling me these 'facts', but this seems too far-fetched for me to believe you.”

He knocks shoulder with Buck’s playfully and moves to open the door the back of the rig gesturing for Buck to get in. He watches in amusement as Buck frowns as he moves towards the step to get inside as if he was trying to puzzle something out when he stops short with one foot on the step, realisation dawning on his face as turns back on Eddie.

“Are you flirting with me?” he asks wide-eyed.

Eddie leans against the door, feeling a sense of satisfaction over Buck’s realisation, “You finally noticed?” he asks smoothly.

Buck nods slowly, with a coy smile playing on his lips, “and here I thought that you weren’t picking up that I was flirting with you.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the back of the rig with no further comment. Taken by surprise, it takes Eddie a moment to process what Buck just admitted.

“Wait… what??” He managed to utter and follows him inside intent on an explanation.

Before he has the chance to follow it up, Bobby joins them in a rush stating they were called to a multiple unit incident and from then there was just no time for it. They shared a look, one that promised that when they had the chance they would pick up where they left off.

Unluckily for them, they never got that opportunity until well after the time that their shift was supposed to have ended. The last call was one that left them all dead on their feet, stomachs grumbling almost continuously having given them no time to have any kind to time to eat since lunchtime.

Eddie felt completely spent with no energy left to get out of the rig after it was parked back at the station and he could tell that Buck was in a similar position. Eventually, Buck was the first to make a move to get out and he gets halfway out the door before turning back to extend a hand to him.

Giving Buck a tired grin, Eddie grasps Buck’s hand allowing Buck to pull him to his feet with a groan as they both amble out of the truck, bodies aching after such a labour intensive call. They walk in companionable silence as they make their way to the locker room, practically leaning against each other.

“Hey, Eds,”

Eddie hums in response, putting most of his focus on changing out of his uniform, deciding to forgo the usual post-shift shower to wash away any sweat and grime, seeing in his peripherals Buck doing the same.

“You hungry?”

Eddie barely considers the question as he feels his stomach growl in answer, “I could eat.”

“Cool, I know of this amazing 24-hour burger joint,” Buck responds, stuffing his uniform into his duffle bag.

Collecting their things, they start heading to their cars when Eddie suddenly remembers their brief flirtatious exchange earlier that afternoon and stops short, causing Buck to pause and look at him quizzically.

“You okay there Eds?”

Eddie squints at Buck for a second, trying to gauge what Buck was intending, “Are you asking me out on a date Buck?”

A look of confusion crosses Buck’s face before it morphs into one of realisation, clearly having also temporarily forgotten their moment from earlier that day as well.

“Oh, um, yeah I suppose I am.” He eventually ends up saying, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ok good, just making sure.” Eddie says easily, not wanting to make a big deal out of this development, “I’ll follow you, yeah?”

And that where it all began, in a small quiet burger diner at two o'clock in the morning, laughing over the fact that they had both been flirting with each other for some time and neither of them had picked up on it.

You would think having spent so much time with each other normally, they would run out of thing to talk about, but they didn’t need to talk the whole time, just enjoying each other’s presence and basking in the euphoria of knowing that the feeling that they have for each other was mutual, no longer as one-sided as they originally thought.

They sat there for hours, tired but invigorated by each other’s presence with neither of them wanting the moment to end. Eventually, though, they reached a point where they could no longer ignore the fact they were in desperate need of both a shower and sleep.

So, with contented smiles, they part ways sharing a look that promised many more dates to come, which coincidentally involved the diner more often than not.

Their first kiss actually ended up happening at their diner, in the most natural of ways that they almost didn’t realise it was their first. Until they did, in the parking lot, their second kiss as charged as a first kiss you'd see in a cheesy rom-com resulted from their awareness of their love for each other, leaving them breathless.

Yeah, that diner became their haven, their go-to place when they couldn’t think of anywhere else because it held as much romance in their eyes as any other restaurant would, and considering what they have now, Eddie wouldn’t change a thing.

#buddieweek2020 #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Chimney Han #Hen Wilson #Bobby Nash #flirtatious idiots #I wonder if anyone will understand the title reference #my fic #jess writes #userkourt #userkimmy #911 fox #911 fic

39 notes · View notes

andersunmenschlich · 3 years

Text

Genesis 2

That’s the end of creation! That’s how absolutely everything got created, bar none, creation finished, over, done, finito. No more creating. Bible says this “everything done” day is the seventh, so I guess the time before light and darkness got separated actually does count as a day. Who knew.

The gods, that’s who.

Anyhow, the gods made the seventh day a holy day, set apart as super special because that’s when they finished all the creating. The first day ever that they didn’t do any creating at all. They were done.

And now, suddenly, in verse four, the writer changes.

No, I’m not kidding. It’s a very abrupt shift. Most noticeably, we’re not talking about the gods in general anymore: “אֱלֹהִ֖ים” is now always prefaced by “יְהוָ֥ה”—Yhvh, a specific god! “Gods” gets used like a last name now. It’s like, instead of “the Millers did thus-and-such,” now it’s “Alex Miller did thus-and-such.”

New writer. Real obvious.

Anyway! Our new divinely inspired writer takes us back to before the gods told the earth to sprout plants.

This writer tells us that the reason there weren’t any plants was because Yhvh God hadn’t made it rain or created Adam to aerate and fertilize the ground. Strange. I’d gotten the impression that there weren’t any plants because the gods hadn’t created them yet.

Our new writer also tells us that mist rose from inside the earth and watered the ground. Huh.

That would seem to make the lack of rain unimportant. Why say that there weren’t any plants because there was no rain when rain wasn’t needed?

Weird.

Anyway, Yhvh God took some dirt and shaped it into a kind of golem, then breathed into its nose, and poof! Adam.

Uh.

The plants still haven’t been created. I definitely remember Adam coming after the plants.

Land, space, water, and darkness—light, night, and day—sky—sea, dry land, plants—sun, moon, and stars—sea creatures and flying things—land animals—then Adam. And after Adam, nothing except deciding what everything but the sea creatures are going to eat.

Adam was last. I remember that very clearly (it was only ten or eleven verses ago). What kind of divinely inspired contradiction is this?

Ow, no, don’t throw things.

I’m just confused, that’s all. I don’t know how Adam could be created both before and after the plants. Probably I’m stupid. The Bible couldn’t be wrong, after all! Somehow, I’m sure, the gods created Adam male and female on the sixth day and Yhvh God created Adam plain old male on the third day. I don’t know how that’s possible. But the Bible says it happened, so it must have.

Ah, I know. The first writer messed up the plurals and singulars. Divine inspiration ruined by mortal stupidity! There’s only one god—Yhvh God—and there were two Adams, one male and one female.

...Except that still leaves the problem of those two Adams being made on both the third day and the sixth. Uh.

And wait, this new writer says there was only one Adam, one single male Adam.

...Okay, so the first writer messed up hard, then. They wrote “gods” instead of “god.” They said one intersex Adam… or maybe two Adams, one male and one female… were created on the sixth day instead of one male Adam being created on the third.

That’s… that’s some serious error right there.

Ow! Ow! Quit it!

Look, it’s not my fault! I’m not trying to make the Bible inconsistent! It’s just, look! First the Bible says man was created after the plants and now it says man was created before the plants!

This isn’t my fault! I didn’t make it say that! It just says it, all on its own!

Ow!

All right, all right!

So maybe I misread? Maybe the first part wasn’t meant to be read in a strictly linear way? I know it’s all “this happened, then this happened, then this happened—the first day. This happened, then this happened—the second day.” But maybe you’re supposed to skip around? Maybe the things that apparently happen in one day are actually happening in another?

…That’s stupid! No! I can’t convince myself of that at all!

Ow, ow, okay! Maybe I just don’t understand it because I’m the stupid one, and I’ll never be able to understand it no matter how hard I try—not because it’s dumb, but because I am. Fine, fine, you win, I give up.

So, after creating Adam, Yhvh God creates a garden in a place called Pleasure (“עֵדֶן,” Eden), and sticks Adam in the garden. Yhvh God also makes all kinds of trees that are pretty and/or produce tasty fruit grow in the garden, as well as the tree of Life and the tree of Being Able to Tell the Difference Between Good and Bad.

Side note to tell us about a river that runs through the garden, then splits into four rivers, each of which runs through or along a different place.

The original river doesn’t get a name, but the other four are Increase, Bursting Forth, Rapid, and Fruitfulness. Increase runs through the land of Circle (which has just the best gold, you guys, and awesome gum resin and precious stones, too). Bursting Forth goes through the land of Black. Rapid runs along the east side of Assyria. And we all know Fruitfulness, everyone knows the Euphrates, no need to explain that any further here.

Why this is important, I don’t know. Scene-setting? Nobody’s been able to find the garden of Pleasure using these directions, so it can’t be for that. Anyway, I’m sure Yhvh God knew perfectly well, when he was inspiring this writer, that a worldwide flood was gonna seriously change topography later on.

So the idea is that Adam will be a gardener.

No, this is obvious. There were no plants because there was no man to cultivate the ground? Adam gets put in the garden to tend and keep it?

There’s a reason man exists, and it’s to look after Yhvh God’s plants.

Ow! What?

Oh, the whole “dominate every living thing and even the earth itself” thing? Look. I’m not sure how much I want to trust that first writer, what with their gods and adams and plants being created before humans and all.

Yeouch! Dagnabbit, what?

I can’t throw out any of the Bible? I have to make all of it make sense, all together?

But it contradicts!

Ow! Stop it!

Okay, okay, it doesn’t contradict! I’m stupid! Men exist both to look after plants and to dominate everything, they were created on the third day and on the sixth day, they were spoken into being and they were dirt brought to life, they were male and female and they were just male!

Yhvh God told Adam he could eat fruit from every tree in the garden except anything off the tree of knowing the difference between good and bad, because if he ate anything from that tree “מ֥וֹתתָּ׃ מֽוּת”—he’d be as dead as dead gets that very day.

Then Yhvh God gets to thinking that maybe it’s not great for Adam to be alone.

Uh.

Don’t hit me, but didn’t Adam have Yhvh God? Like… was he really alone? God was there! I grew up hearing that when God’s with you, you’re never alone.

What good is “I will never leave you nor forsake you” if, even with God there, you’re still alone?

Augh, no! I’m sorry I asked!

[nervous breathing, cough]

Okay. So.

Since it’s not good for Adam to be alone (and he’s alone even with God), Yhvh God decides to make a suitable helper for him. Which Yhvh God does by forming animal golems out of dirt and bringing them to life.

….

I… look, I know I’m dumb. But I swear this contradicts what we were told in chapter one.

“Let birds fly above the earth across the face of the sky” on day five, before Adam was ever made, and “let the earth bring forth living creatures” on day six, also before Adam was made, is not compatible with “out of the ground Yhvh God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them.”

Don’t you try to tell me Yhvh God had formed every beast of the field! “וַיִּצֶר֩” is a consecutive imperfect verb just like “וַיָּבֵא֙” (“and brought them”)! They’re the same tense!

Ow! Fine, I’ll move on.

So, being as God isn’t good enough company, he figures maybe a horse will work as a companion for Adam. Or a cow, maybe. How about a dung beetle? Pigeon?

Yhvh God seems kind of stupid, honestly.

Aaah! Fire! No! Bad! Put down the—where did you even get those pitchforks?!?

Right, so, Yhvh God makes all the animals and birds out of dirt and brings them to Adam, in the garden of Pleasure, and whatever Adam calls each one is the name it gets. This is probably a real long process, on account of how many different animals there are, but even after Adam’s named the very last glyptapanteles wasp, he and Yhvh God still haven’t turned up any lower animal suitable to be Adam’s companion and helper.

So Yhvh God goes ahead and makes a more appropriate lower animal.

Ow! Dangit! Look, I’m just saying! It’d be one thing if Adam and Eve were made at the same time, in the same way, like they maybe were in Genesis 1:27, but this is Genesis 2:22, and Eve is obviously not Adam’s equal here!

She’s a tiny part of Adam, a bit he can do without. Yhvh God puts him in a coma, pulls out a single rib. That’s Eve.

Like Adam says when he wakes up and sees her, she’s one of his own bones, a piece of his own body. She’s not her own being as such, she’s a little chunk of him that was removed so he’d have company.

Don’t look at me like that!

What other conclusion are readers expected to draw when one person is literally a single bone pulled from the other one? Especially when the bone-person was made specifically for the sake of the original human.

Anyway, the new writer says this is why a man leaves his parents and is joined to his wife such that the two become one flesh: because that’s what they were in the beginning, one body. The man goes looking for his missing rib and clings to it—the rib gets absorbed by the original body. Man is not complete without woman (woman is never complete, any more than a gear is complete with or without a clock: it’s the clock that’s complete with the gear, and incomplete without it).

Stop hitting me! What is wrong with you people? This interpretation was accepted just fine for hundreds of years, and you know it! This new idea that the Bible would never say women were created not on their own merits but rather for the sake of men—it’s completely ridiculous because look, Bible!

Don’t like the idea of women being lesser than men? Too bad! Leviticus 12:2 and 5! 1 Corinthians 11:9! Ephesians 5:22! Deal with it!

And now another side note: they were both completely unclothed, and it didn’t bother them psychologically. No shame, no embarrassment, none of that. No word on how they felt re: weather, plants, bugs, etc.

End of chapter.

Anyone else feel like these chapters end a bit awkwardly? Like they were randomly slapped in by people who weren’t actually reading any of it?

#Bible #Genesis 2 #nondenominational Christianity #upbringing #Isaiah reads

6 notes · View notes

aysall · 4 years

Text

on Jin, and his story.

A sort of analysis retracing Twice’s journey. It’s long and convoluted, but I wanted to give him a proper goodbye.

[P.S. seeing a lot of discourse lately I want to specify that mine is not a moral analysis. I’m not interested in discussing who’s right or wrong in the conflict. I understand why other people do it, it’s just not me. Hope you enjoy.]

The parable of Twice’s character has been explored throughout the story of My Hero Academia in an extremely conscious way. His first appearance in chapter 77 occurs briefly and unexpectedly; unlike the other villains, he’s not depicted in a disturbing or dangerous light and that’s why at first glance he’s easy to categorize as unimportant (in hindsight, this sort of unique introduction should’ve said a lot about him). While the Forest Training Camp Arc reaches its peak Twice reappears several times in an increasingly comic light helped by the continuous, incomprehensible at the time, contradictions with himself. Still not scary, besides the funniness, he begins to be endearing.

A jump, and here comes chapter 115, the first to be completely dedicated to a villain and it really is interesting: hero society is seen through different eyes and its supposed “moral goodness” is questioned. Our gaze turns briefly towards the outcasts upon hearing «Heroes only save good people», is it really so? And why is a comic-relief character revealing this?

Jin Bubaigawara’s face is devoid of comedy as much as Twice’s mask is full of it: empty eyes marked by fatigue, a scar that divides the forehead in two, a story about losing oneself and their sense in the world. A double meaning, it’s early to comprehend it fully but My Hero Academia is opening to the other side, willingly listening and we listen with it. «By helping the League that accepted me as I am … I want to think that I am okay with the way I am, too» Mh. Okay. Let’s go on.

Twice’s development continues along the Overhaul Arc, as it opens with an error on his part which leads to Magne’s death, and from there it unfolds, in guilt, comfort and resoluteness. Toga, who until then was quite the flat character, cartoonishly depicted as creepy and psychotic, accompanies him showing a different side of herself through the first act of kindness we see from a villain. It’s worth underlining how, in regards to Twice, many of the bad guys soften, showing more delicate and empathic gestures: Giran welcomes him, Shigaraki allows (and uses at best) his sentimentality, even Dabi puts aside his indifference to encourage him. I think it’s because such dedication drives others to respond in kind.

Anyway, «I’m human too y’know… Shigaraki!» (ch.148) with this sentence, what previously was only speculation becomes clearer in the reader’s eyes and seals the promise of a conscious and attentive development: Twice’s role is aimed at opening a gash on the villain’s inwardness, invisible until that point, and it’s thanks to him that we begin to observe them in a more understanding light. Magne’s death has shaken up the League, and they find again their balance with new, stronger bonds, sealed by Shigaraki’s affirmation that they’re acting for their own sake. With Twice pouring out his feelings they’re able to build trust, work in tandem, emerge victorious. He was (and will keep being) useful, pity he doesn’t notice it.

Several and too many chapters later: My Villain Academia Arc. Twice’s humanity is confirmed yet again when he throws himself into the fray, first to save Giran, then Toga and then all his companions. In murmuring that the Legue is his home, another piece falls into place and it’s here, among other things, where we connect the most with him and his past: who has never lived a moment of loss and solitude, where the mistakes add up to one another to the point that one day you look in the mirror without knowing who you are, aware only of the ugly parts, thinking that maybe that’s why the pain doesn’t go away. You probably deserve all of it.

Twice’s path is cathartic in regards to rejecting this view of himself because, partly by chance and partly by voluntary action, he began to recover when he built certainties in his life, realizing that it’s worth struggling for a connection with people and how much dear that becomes to you, how terrible the idea of losing it (losing them) can be. The plot rewards him for his struggles.

«The important thing is to know who you are, what you want to become» isn’t it poetically perfect that when Twice decides not to run away from himself, he finally realizes that he is the original? The ground has stabilized under his feet because now he knows what his mission is, therefore the “real” Jin Bubaigawara can go back to being whole—or at least united enough to pursue the goal of protecting his home with all his power. Which is pretty fucking powerful.

Many have said that Twice is the heart of the League of Villains and I agree, he is a summary of the “good” (even if distorted) feelings that led every single member into joining the group. Misery does love company, the excluded sought each other because when one is alone reality is too scary to face.

But a villain, however emotional, must have his tools to defend himself or his strenght will become his weakness. That’s why Twice is both the strongest and the most vulnerable and is twice (hah!) punished for this condition; the second is fatal. Despite this his narrative arc ends with a reaffirmation and reinforcement of everything he is and represents: he sees himself in Hawks and thinks he can help him (empathy), then he is betrayed and mourns and fights for his companions (self-sacrifice), he regrets his mistakes, he is ready to die (kindness). And he dies many times: protecting his home, full of anger and sadness, exposing the hypocrisy of people who are many things but perhaps not heroes—which is good, as Twice shows again and again, the world is not black and white, heroes and villains intertwine and maybe they do become “just human”. He dies without doubting himself nor his feelings, he dies in an attempt to reach his loved ones and he also dies reaching them. His last death happens in the arms of the girl who first showed him kindness, from whom he was sure he would have never received any comfort ever again. So he dies realizing that he was wrong, despite Jin Bubaigawara being the “Sad Man”, Twice is full of energy and affection to give, and these feelings are repaid by the very individuals who shouldn’t be able to do anything but inflict terror and fear. Again, that’s still because the world is not black and white and “Twice” and “Jin” are no different, one in the same.

Twice rejects Hawks’s words about his unfortunate condition. In doing so he rejects the words of himself to himself in chapter 229 «[you went wrong] when you were born without luck» and this stance can be connected to what Toga said against Curios «I’m not unfortunate at all!» (ch. 226) and Shigaraki’s response when he remembered his childhood «That was no tragedy.» (ch.237): all of them reject the inherent misfortune of their past to embrace who they are in the present, they abandon the self-pity. Therein lies the message that the choices they made are theirs alone and that no one should have the right to judge them with pity. These are all positive teachings that we are used to get from the good guys’ side, now that they’re seen through the villains everything becomes grayer and, in my opinion, more interesting.

And so, yet again, everything seems to be screaming that his death is not a tragedy because while he was looking for himself, he found a place to belong and learned to be happy with it. I like to think he also teached the League a thing or two but we’ll have to see, this is a point of no return for them; maybe it’s the start of their downfall, maybe they will change in something stronger, but Twice will keep having an impact on how things are.

I think he absolved his role.

This world doesn’t grant a just end to the outcasts, yet perhaps there is no need, if in the journey you can carve out a small space of happiness together with those who accepted you, with the good, the ugly and the incomprehensible parts all together.

I respect this, because I think there is nothing more important in the world.

#jin bubaigawara #twice #league of villains #bnha 266 #spoilers #I've been mourning for four days this is what came out of it #thank you for reading #bnha #bnha meta #aywritings

148 notes · View notes