#perhaps i should read the prequels and sequels | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year

Text

tags: f!reader (afab), spoilers for anime onlys

a/n: after some very popular demand, here is another makima piece (more specifically a sequel to my last fic). this is not one of those standalone sequels however, it would be best to read the prequel to best understand this one.

man is the breast, heaven is the playground (prequel)

AO3

i. ハッピーエンド

“So, how’s the married life treating you?” Himeno deviated completely from what you were initially discussing.

Perhaps ‘marriage’ wasn’t too far off from what your relationship actually was. A life-binding contract was marriage in its own right. Despite your musings, however, the truth of Makima’s identity as the Control Devil was a secret. Even if it was Himeno, you wouldn’t let that fact slip. “It’s not the married life,” you replied instead. “But yes, things are going great. Does everyone still hate me for taking away their queen?” It was quite the uproar when you both announced your departure from the Devil Hunters. Makima received more flowers than you could carry on your last day. It had been several years since then and now you were nestled in Takamatsu in Kagawa Prefecture.

You managed to find work in translation, much to the joy of your family back home. “We have to meet this girl who got you to quit,” your mother insisted, she’d hear no objections. She might have wanted you to come home to your country in general, but she was happy nonetheless you were no longer hunting devils for a living.

Himeno’s snort told you as much. “I don’t think Nanaka will ever be over it.” Himeno snickered.

“I’m glad to hear she’s still alive and kicking regardless,” you replied honestly with a chuckle of your own. Even if you had never seen eye to eye, you wished the brunette the best as Himeno mentioned setting Nanaka up on a blind date. “How’s your new partner?”

Himeno’s voice was a mixture of satisfaction and melancholy. “Aki’s great, he’s still alive after all this time. I wish he’d just settle down now. I’m hoping this new division helps with that.”

Right, Himeno mentioned something about it before. A Division composed of tamed devils and fiends, though it would be terminated should there not be any good results. “Any new additions?”

“Since last time, the Blood Fiend actually. Other than that, there’s still just the Spider Devil with the Violence and Shark Fiends.”

“Any other blessings I should know about?” What about that Angel Devil you talked about? You still keeping his discovery secret?

“None for now.” Still my best kept secret in the village I found him in.

“I see.” Good for him.

It wasn’t too long ago Himeno had sent you a coded message detailing her orders. She requested that if things about him ever came to light, you and Makima would help somehow. The redhead didn’t seem too interested in this request, but she agreed when you asked. The Angel Devil is a peaceful one, Himeno detailed in her script. He doesn’t have what it takes to kill, so I just want him to stay with the humans that brought him up. The little guy even has a girlfriend. Humans and devils living in peace might be a reality one day, I’m just not naive enough to think that’ll happen overnight. Maybe that’s what won you over now that you thought about it.

“Well,” Himeno pulled you away from your thoughts and back into your conversation. “There is a Zombie Devil I’ll be snuffing out tomorrow morning, maybe that’ll be our new member.”

You grimaced at the thought of a zombifying-devil. “Even I think that’s a terrible idea and I’m the one who decided to become a devil hunter just so I could travel.”

“You think every idea I have is terrible.” Himeno whined.

“Not every idea,” you corrected with a teasing tone. “Only most of them.” Upon turning a corner, you viewed the welcoming sight of your apartment door. “But look, I’m just getting home so I’ll talk to you later. Try not to get yourself killed tomorrow.”

“Say ‘hi’ to the missus for me.” Himeno drawled before hanging up.

Still a maelstrom. It would always be a relief to hear from the playful devil hunter in spite of that maelstrom though. You sighed in satisfaction, reaching for your keys when the door opened on its own.

The breeze must have drifted your scent under the door, you figured, as you welcomed the comforting sight of your girlfriend. “Welcome home, [First].” Makima greeted you warmly as you walked into her embrace. “How was your day at work?”

“Peaceful,” you pecked her cheek before kissing her lips. “How about you? Busy day again?” You weren’t the only one to find new work after your resignation from the Devil Hunters. Makima took to working at a small but popular café in the neighborhood, preparing tea and crafting baked goods. She told you before baking was merely an activity she took up to alleviate her boredom, but it had since become something she enjoyed. It was beneficial to your being as well as you happily indulged in testing prospective new items on the menu for her.

“The choux crème has been a really popular item, more people are coming in for it.” Makima replied, satisfied. You blanched at the emphasis of the dessert name and the hounding sound of heavy paws heading your way. Your reaction, sadly, was too slow as Makima’s many dogs came to greet you like clockwork.

“Maki- nooo!” You sputtered as Makima laughed gleefully at the onslaught of wet tongues and wagging tails. “Tell them to get down!”

Makima’s expression was teasing, “but they’re so happy to see you come home, see?”

You dodged another lick from Macaron with expertise. “You’re not funny, I hope you know this,” yet the grin on your face said otherwise as Makima finally got her pups to relax. I guess I’ll be washing up sooner than expected.

“Someone looks like she’s in a good mood today,” you noted as you massaged lotion onto your freshly washed face. Bagheera and Tora welcomed you home, brushing against your legs now that their larger canid roommates finished their turn. Makima moved about the kitchen, making tea. “Did something good happen while you were out?”

“Your mother called today,” Makima answered with a small but satisfied smile. You couldn’t hold back a small grin of your own at those words. That action alone would probably give your girlfriend enough happiness to last several days. To earnestly earn the love of your family and feel as if she were part of it herself, it meant more to Makima than she could ever express. “She wanted to practice her Japanese before she came here.”

“My mom called and she just wanted to practice her Japanese with you?” You implored in disbelief once you settled on the couch, Makima sitting between your legs as she drank a hot cup of chai.

Your girlfriend’s smile was an uncanny replica of the Mona Lisa. “She asked why you haven’t proposed yet.”

“Now that sounds like my mother.”

Makima took a long sip of her tea before saying anything else. “Maybe we should be married in the human sense as well.” She set her cup down on the coffee table. “It’s the ultimate contract for humans.”

Your expression was curious. “You like the idea of marriage?”

“The idea of weddings was something I was always drawn to.” Her golden eyes had a distant look in them, her mind far beyond your comfortable living room with your many pets. Makima never went into the specifics of her childhood, but she told you enough to get the picture. She was simply one of the best kept secrets of the government; a young devil whisked off the streets of Tokyo to become a necessary evil. Concepts such as love, family and friendship were ones she learned from film and books. “The idea of binding yourself to another person for an eternity, it’s a concept I’m fond of. I wanted a big wedding.”

“I’m not opposed to a wedding,” you smiled. Marriage hadn’t been something you thought about prior to Makima. Your contract with her practically was one, all a wedding would make Makima’s integration into your family official. “I’m not sure if we have enough people in our lives to have the wedding size you’re thinking of, though.”

“I have plenty of people at the headquarters in Tokyo that would come if I asked.” Makima’s lips curved into a smile primal in nature while amusement danced in the rings of her irises. “Nanaka would for certain, she wouldn’t want to do anything to make me sad. If she’s still alive, we could extend her a personal invitation. What do you think?” At your dry look in response, your girlfriend chuckled lightly before pressing herself against your chest. “It’s a joke, I’m joking.” You decided to take her word for it. You always wondered to what extent it would be possible for Makima’s view of those who had fallen victim to her abilities as her equal. Perhaps it was one of those questions best left unanswered. “Weddings are one of those things that feel best when those in attendance truly care about the couple. I only want those people to come to our wedding.”

There was a lot of moral ambiguity that came with dating the Control Devil. Any devil really. You wondered if you were the only person in the world to do so, but you wanted to believe in the one you fell in love with.

Makima no longer relied on the fake relationships she manufactured with her abilities since your move to Takamatsu. Not for the interpersonal parodies she made to fill the loneliness inside her. She wasn’t perfect. Her first few weeks of generating business at her café were completely reliant on absolute control’s influence to bring customers in directly and through word of mouth. You were quite sure that power was how she obtained her job in the first place.

But you’re still trying your best. “There’ll be people like that,” you cradled Makima gently as you kissed her forehead. “My family loved you before even coming over to meet you properly. More of your regulars are just normal people you just happen to talk to daily. When the time comes, lots of people will be there just because they’re your friend.”

ii. 「純愛だよ」

There would be many people that would come to the wedding for Makima’s sake, that you were sure of. Kishibe of the Devil Hunters, however, would not be one of them. This you were certain of as you recalled the day you encountered him only a month after your resignation. If not for the way he intercepted you outside of your apartment building on your way home, definitely because of his cold but calculating stare.

When the man made no move to explain what he wanted, you decided to move your piece first. Nothing about the encounter felt coincidental as you were led to a place with as few people as possible. “So what do you want?” You had seen from the ground level that Makima had opened the window and you wondered if she knew of this sudden arrival. “I’ve been busy planning a move and I want to go home, it’s my turn to cook dinner tonight.” You dangled your small bag of groceries, a few ingredients required for the dish you planned to cook.

“You can’t spare a moment to talk to an old work buddy?” In spite of his words, there was no nostalgia or yearning in his tone. Kishibe held out his box of cigarettes to which you declined before he lit a cigarette of his own. “It’s been a while after all, we haven’t talked in so long.”

“We barely talked in the first place,” you replied tersely. Besides introducing you and Makima to one another, you seldom saw the man held as one of the strongest in the Bureau. He was an enigma, a drunk enigma who still managed to do his job well. You were doubtful you’d be able to hold your own against him for long. “Hit me with that line after it’s been a few years.”

“How is Makima?” Your eyes narrowed at the sudden question. “It was quite the surprise to everyone that she resigned. I’m surprised the higher ups weren’t more insistent that she stay.”

“Cut the crap and tell me why you’re here,” you crossed your arms and you shared a knowing look. Whatever it was, you were on the same pageー both of you knew more than what you initially assumed. “What is it that you need to know so you can get out of our hair?”

“I suppose we can drop the pleasantries then,” Kishibe put out his cigarette as quickly as he lit it. “I’ve never been fond of Makima, but I could always tolerate her. Whatever inhumane deeds she committed, as long as I knew she was on humanity’s side, I could always turn the other cheek.” Tired black eyes that knew too much glanced at you piercingly. “I just find it strange that she decided to leave the Bureau to play house with a new toy.”

Your eyebrow twitched, but you held back your anger. “Because she’s the Control Devil, you mean,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Were you the one that brought her to officials? You worried that your dog got off its leash? Or is it because that dog turned on its masters?”

Infuriatingly but unsurprisingly, the man didn’t answer any of your questions. “I was worried that the Control Devil forced you into making a contract with her.”

“Makima can’t force me to do anything,” you scowled.

“Did she make you make a contract with her?” Kishibe queried.

“That’s none of your business.” After a strong silence between you both, sighed. “It’s part of our contract,” you answered begrudgingly. It would be better to cooperate lest he decide to take action due to your insubordination. “Makima can’t use her powers on me. She couldn’t force me to do anything before anyway. I’m not sure about the specifics, neither is she. We just know she hasn’t been able to order me successfully.”

“And what does she gain from a contract like that?”

“We stay together forever,” a soft voice cut through the conversation before you could answer. Makima stood behind you in an accompaniment of caws and frantic wingbeats as crows dispersed from where she stood. You sighed in relief at her appearance, at the very least Kishibe was the only devil hunter that had come to inspect the motivations of the Control Devil. “Hello, Kishibe,” a cold smile spread across her lips as she softly nuzzled the crow perched on her forearm. “had I known you were coming, I would have made tea.”

“You don’t need to keep up appearances on my account,” the older man insisted gruffly as Makima sent her corvid on its way. “You’ve been listening since we left the apartment. You left the window open.”

The redhead seemed to take a dark thrill in this moment, “yes I suppose we don’t have to keep up those things,” she agreed fluidly. “I wanted to keep a listen out for [First] so I could greet her at the door when she came home. Anyone would worry about their beloved when a strange man intercepts them.”

I do not need a fight breaking out. Makima versus Kishibe, you worried less about the physical outcome. No, you were fearful of what the long-term consequences of this fight would be. “Makima,” you stepped between the devil and the hunter. “we finished talking, let’s go home. He got the answers he was looking for.”

Makima’s smile shifted into one warmer for you, “yes, let’s go home.” You held her hand with the one not holding groceries and gave it a squeeze, Makima squeezed back.

You glanced at Kishibe over your shoulder, “you have the answers you’re looking for,” you repeated.

It’s-

iii. ごめんな

Your wet cough tore you away from your memories. It hurt, it hurt, everything hurt. It all hurt, yet you couldn’t react beyond a weak gasp as you laid on the ground, crushed under debris. Ah, this sucks.

You get off hours early from work, and a devil decides to attack. Perhaps it was muscle memory from your devil hunting days as you absently reached for a weapon that was no longer there. It had long since been confiscated after you resigned, civilians had no need for such weapons. Yet the horrifying realization that your sword was gone, was all the devil needed before gleefully thrusting its hand through your stomach. This all sucking was truly the understatement. Where were the devil hunters patrolling the area supposed to be, stopping to get lunch?

Today was supposed to be a good day, you lamented.

Your half-day at work aligned perfectly with Makima’s off-day. You were supposed to swing by and change into something comfortable, then you’d hit the town. You recalled the dress she said she would wear. It was gonna be that white sundress she got last year, she looks so good in that.

She was waiting for you.

That was what hurt you the most. Makima and the makeshift home you made for yourself. The two cats that slept anywhere that inconvenienced you and the seven dogs that welcomed you home rambunctiously everyday yet you were somehow still surprised when it happened. Makimaー

Your phone rang in the distance for the fifth time in the past six minutes.

I’m a terrible girlfriend, you berated yourself. You couldn’t crawl to it and your arms refused to move no matter how much you willed for your adrenaline to make a miracle happen. I’m sorry, you weeped quietly as your phone fell silent before the sharp trill of your ringtone started all over again. I’m so sorry.

You weren’t particularly religious, nor were you sure if there was a god that they would stop to listen to hear prayers for the sake of a devil. Still, you prayed. please let her be okay. I’m okay with dying as long as she’ll be okay. Don’t let this be what makes her lose hope in everything. I want her to be loved for the rest of her life.

Whether it was by your family that survived you, whether it was by the friends, whether it was by someone else who loved her beyond the controls of her abilities. Anything would be better than her being alone again.

Please.

The continuous trill of your cell phone accompanied you until your eyes closed, and your chest stopped heaving.

iv. 彦星と織姫の物語

At five years of age, you dreamed of a prince on a magnificent horse saving you from a life of despair.

The world was unimaginable without your parents.

And you were sure you were born for a special purpose, a belief amplified by the strong feeling something was missing in your life and you needed to find it.

At thirteen years of age, you understood how the world truly worked.

The world continued despite the loss of your parents.

There were no princes riding on magnificent horses and there wasn’t anybody who would save you from the despair-filled life you were living.

And no one was born with a special purpose in life, not even you.

One… two… three… four… You held yourself tightly, forehead pressed against your knees as you waited for the sound of rushing footsteps to fade. It was just your luck that you ran into cops that found it more than a little suspicious that a preteen was wandering around instead of at school. They were unconvinced when you told them you were homeschooled and a kick to the shin later, you were hiding in an alley. Just a little while longer, you whispered, hugging yourself tighter. There was no prince that was going to come and save you, you realized this the moment your parents died and you were left alone in the streets of Beijing to fend for yourself. You became your own prince.

That was why you stole from merchants, that was why you picked pockets of anyone gullible enough to let their guard down.

You stood up from your crouch when you were sure the police officers were gone. You’d earned enough cash that day and something for dinner to boot. It was time to go home before you got too cocky and landed yourself in trouble. You patted your pocket with the squished meat buns in them. That would be enough to get through today.

You just needed to save. You were unsure of the amount you needed to save, but once you had enough, you would be able to get out of this place. That belief reassured you more than anything, it certainly reassured you more than the dead magpie your right foot nearly touched. Ew gross! You nearly touched another in your attempt to avoid the first. The cats would be in heaven later when they found this spot you grimly thought.

You glanced to your right, wondering if this would be a decent alley to leave into the main street when you saw a girl your age sitting with her knees bunched to her chest. You couldn’t see her face from how she was hunched over, nor did you trust her. It didn’t look like she was with anyone else, though it crossed your mind that maybe she was a decoy so you could get jumped.

You glanced over your shoulder without turning, relieved no one was standing behind you. You’d seen it happen more than once, you weren’t going to be another victim. Promptly, you turned around, more than willing to pretend you never saw the girl in the first place and exit in the opposite direction when-

Growl.

No, you told yourself sharply as you paused midstep. Giving someone else your food would be a terrible idea. She can find something for herself.

That was what you told yourself; it was what you told yourself and you still begrudgingly turned around, stomping your feet all the while when there was no one to be mad at but yourself.

“Here,” you grumbled without looking at the girl, holding your misshapen haul over her. “take it before I change my mind.” When she made no move to take the buns from your hand, you dropped them in front of her. The wrapping would keep the dirt off of them. “You’re welcome,” you sighed as you finally took your leave. Your only consolation was that she wasn’t a decoy that would lead to your ass getting kicked. There goes dinner.

When you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve, instinctively you jerked away.

You glared at the girl, ready for a fight. “Hey get off of m-,” You. Your words halted as soon as you saw her wide-eyed stare and tears. There was nothing familiar about this girl, you had never seen her before in your life. There was nothing familiar about her black hair, nor the mole under her left eye. You were sure you couldn’t say you’d ever met anyone with golden eyes with red rings in them either. There was no reason to feel like your senses had been set ablaze and the universe shifted.

You didn’t know this girl.

This girl was a stranger.

You knew this and yet you still fell to your knees as warm tears flooded your eyes without your permission. Your mind had gone blank, unable to conjure a single thought and even if you could, you doubted you would be able to voice them. So you followed instinct as it screamed at you to hold this stranger in your arms, welcomed the way she threw her arms over your shoulders in return.

An indeterminable amount of time passed while you cried in the arms of a stranger before you stood up again.

As you wordlessly led her to your home, it vaguely crossed your mind how strange this was. It was strange that you held this girl’s hand while you crossed the street. It was strange that you led her into the abandoned apartment building you called home. It was even stranger that despite only meeting a few hours prior, you were laying with this girl on your tattered bed, holding each other like you were scared you’d disappear if you let go.

It was all strange, but something told you it would be even stranger had you ignored her in that alleyway. “By the way,” you yawned, as it dawned on you that you never once asked for your new companion’s name. “what’s your name?”

When there was no immediate response, you thought the girl fell asleep. “Nayuta,” you finally heard the feathery light reply. Nayuta pressed herself closely to your chest, listening to your heartbeat.

“I’m [First],” you squeezed.

Nayuta squeezed back.

v.「行かないで！行かないで！行かないで！どこにもいけないで！離れないで！あたしのそばにずっといて！」支配の悪魔が叫んだ。魂が叫んだ。

You discovered Nayuta was a devil less than a month after you started living together. She did a terrible job hiding it. Considering how airheaded she could be, though, you doubted Nayuta was truly trying to keep it a secret. Still, the truth of her nature eluded you for a few weeks as you initially accepted that perhaps these things were simple coincidences.

Her eyes were unlike anyone else’s eyes you’d ever seen. (You wondered for a while if they were special contacts, but if they were, they were beyond dried and damaged considering she never took them out.)

Animals listened to her way too easily. (There was no longer any need to fight off the crows when they got too close to your meal. A simple “go away” from your companion, and they would fly off just as she commanded.)

There was the time you bore witness to something you wouldn’t have believed had you not seen it yourself. Nayuta walked up to an older woman, held out her hand and plainly demanded, “give me all your money.” Promptly, all the yuan in the woman’s wallet was placed in Nayuta’s hand.

(“That old lady just gave you all her money?” You gawked in disbelief, eyes bulging out of their sockets. “How?!”

“I told her to give it to me,” Nayuta told you plainly, like she was telling you the sky was blue. Then she told you she wanted soup dumplings and jianbing for lunch.)

As such, it was no wonder why you found yourself thinking that she was a devil. It never crossed your mind that perhaps she had another sort of trick up her sleeve. Devil was the first thing that came to your mind and the only answer you felt was right.

“Hey, Nayuta,” you asked after much contemplation, watching as she drew a dog on the dirty hardwood floor of your home. Your belly was full from eating roujiamo and candied hawthorns, purchased with money Nayuta got from a mean teenager. “are you a devil?”

Nayuta paused her ministrations, staring at her rough sketch before she nodded, “yeah.” Her revelation wasn’t a surprise in the slightest. Gold eyes stared into yours as you thought over your next question. Were you scared of her now? No, you answered your internal pondering quickly. Being scared of Nayuta felt like an inherent rejection of what made you ‘you’. You’d never be scared of her, there was nothing intimidating about a devil who wanted a large dog so she could ride atop it like it was a horse. Instead you asked, “what kind of devil are you?”

“The Control Devil,” she answered truthfully.

“Have you ever used your powers on me?”

It was like a dam suddenly broke as Nayuta’s expression suddenly changed from blasé to fearful. “I haven’t!” When did she even get in front of you? It felt like you had only blinked once before she was standing right in front of you, grabbing your hands tightly as she shook her head frantically. “I haven’t!” She repeated desperately and you almost took a step back in bewilderment. You hadn’t seen Nayuta cry since the day you first met but you could tell these tears were different.

Her tears from your first meeting were inexplicable. A visceral reaction to whatever emotion took over the both of you that day. These tears were based on fright and distress.

“Na-,” you tried consoling the girl, but panic had overtaken her completely.

“I didn’t, [First], please believe me!” Nayuta begged hysterically, her grip on your hands somehow tighter. “Don’t leave me!”

“I believe you!” Your heart felt like it was beating a million kilometers a second, but you had to convey how you felt. Nayuta looked as if she was going to cry once more, scared but hopeful.“I believe you,” you repeated softly. “I’m not gonna leave you.”

vi. 誓いの言葉

Nayuta wasn’t much of a talker.

That wasn’t to say she was timid, nor was she diffident. It was more like she was an airhead who skipped to the beat of her own drum. She did as she pleased and she said what was on her mind as it came to her mind. That was how you often ended up spending hours of your day looking for her if she suddenly ran off to find something that piqued her interest or keen sense of smell.

This time thankfully, she’d only been drawn to the display TV in front of a store. That was leagues better than the time she’d wanted to see why two cats were fighting in an alley.

You shot the girl an incredulous look, hands on your hips. “I keep telling you not to let go of my hand when we walk, you always get lost,” you scolded, more concerned than annoyed. The last thing you wanted was for Nayuta to run into devil hunters while you were separated. It was your worst fear that she would be taken from you and killed. Despite your worries, however, it didn’t always prevent instances when something would catch Nayuta’s eye and she’d let go of your hand in favor of checking out.

“[First],” Nayuta pointed at the television, completely ignoring your worry. “[First], I want one of these.”

You pursed your lips in annoyance knowing Nayuta had moved well beyond the matter at hand. At the excited look in her ringed eyes, however, you felt your annoyance fading faster than you’d like. “You want what?” You looked at the TV, wondering what grabbed her attention so much. It was a wedding, you realized after a few seconds. The wedding was western style, the bride donning a beautiful white dress. “Do you want the dress?” There was absolutely no way you’d be able to finesse a wedding dress no matter how hard you tried.

“I want the wedding.” That made you look at her even more wide-eyed than before.

“We can’t afford something like that!” You held up your hand before she could make her ridiculous suggestion. “And they won’t let two kids get married anyway, we’d have to wait until…” you honestly weren’t sure, now that you thought about it. You shook your head and Nayuta’s brow furrowed with a disgruntled pout, “anyways, we can’t have a wedding like that, it costs too much money.” When Nayuta didn’t reply, you poked her cheek. “You okay?”

Nayuta’s following grunt was neither in agreement or disagreement. When she didn’t object to you holding her hand, you held back a snort of amusement as you led the way home. It became apparent later on, when Nayuta approached you with your off-white bed sheet, however, that she had not gotten over the topic of weddings.

“It’s my veil,” Nayuta said as much when you asked why she was wearing your sheet. “I want the wedding now.”

“If you don’t put the sheet back on the bed, it’s the only one we have!” Laughter slipped through your words at the ridiculous display. But she’s still really cute. A total dork, but cute. Your hands moved to adjust her ‘veil’ more evenly on her head. You wanted to marry Nayuta when you grew up; when you had your house and weren’t living off scraps. Then her veil wouldn’t be the dirty sheet you laid on and she could wear the princess-style gown that you saw in the movie, not the dirty clothes you wore everyday. That was a long day away, you knew. It was hard enough imagining that you’d ever be somewhere better than this. “Okay,” you said warmly. “let’s have a wedding.”

Nayuta beamed, holding her head high, before she noticed the sheet slipping. You couldn’t hold back another snicker at that, “we have to say the vows first,” you instructed. “It’s where we promise each other the things we’ll do for each other once we’re married.” Your mother was fond of movies where weddings were the center of the plot, but you couldn’t recall any of the vows expressed in them. “I promise…” you began, pondering what you would say. I promise that first, I’ll get you a big house. One that has lots of dogs, well, as long as they’re cats too. We’ll have food from all over the world because we’ll have some fancy butler make it for us, and when we feel like it, we’ll go to any amusement park we want. And I’ll protect you from any devil hunter we come across.”

“I promise that I’ll be with you forever,” Nayuta followed seamlessly in your exchanging of vows. “I won’t use my powers on you. I won’t let go of your hand when we go out, because you get upset when I get lost. And I promise I’ll protect you too.”

You grinned, content. “Now we have to kiss too.” It was a quick kiss, a simple peck on the lips before you rested your forehead on hers. “And I now pronounce us wife and wife.” The imaginary audience applauded, welcoming your union in open arms.

“The people in the movie were dancing too afterwards,” Nayuta chirped after a moment.

“That’s because we’re supposed to have our first dance as a married couple afterwards,” you replied. The sheet, unfortunately, could not keep up with your dancing even if it was a slow waltz to an unknown melody you made on the spot.

“I want a real wedding this time.”

I do too. “We can get married for real when we grow up,” you vowed once more as you clumsily led each other in your dance.

Nayuta’s smile was saccharin, “promise?”

“Promise,” you repeated joyously. “it’ll be in a fancy hall with lots of people.” Not that either of you knew enough people to have even a small number of guests at your wedding. But that could change by the time you are grownups.

vii. 旧友

The day the devil hunters came was a blur.

You weren’t sure what it was that led to their discovery of Nayuta. You could only guess in the future that it was because of the trail of people who complained that their money had been stolen and they couldn’t remember how. At the time, guessing wasn’t going to get you out of the situation you landed yourselves in.

They didn’t buy your usual excuses.

There wasn’t anywhere to run in the corner they expertly trapped you in as you ran away, believing you had been making progress in losing the one following you.

You held your arms out between, knowing full well you were a flimsy shield to someone trained to kill devils.

Nayuta fingers dug into the back of your shirt, body tense. Her abilities required she believe one was lesser than her for her to order them, that was impossible when you were both scared out of your wits cornered with nowhere to go.

The woman kept an eye on you both, weapon drawn in one hand, phone in the other. “I found the C-” were the only words she managed to get out when she suddenly collapsed, revealing the scarred old man behind her. You learned later he called himself Kishibe.

You weren’t sure if you should have felt relieved when you saw the old man, suited up as any other devil hunter would be. You didn’t like him, that much you had decided in your silent stare down.

He released a raspy sigh, humming thoughtfully as he crushed the unconscious woman’s phone. “I came here expecting to only find one of you,” the man scratched the side of his head sluggishly. He eyed you carefully with a sense of recognition you couldn’t quite place before his eyes drifted to Nayuta beside you. “The Control Devil really is a selfish one.”

viii. マキマとナユタ

“You’re starting to look like me, Himeno.” It had been years since he’d last seen the woman and she seemed tired beyond her years. If Life played favorites, it was more than apparent Himeno was not one of that group. Aki died, succumbing to his final two years to live. The Chainsaw kid took off before then in the aftermath of the brief but chaotic attack of the Bomb Devil. Perhaps she’d been driven mad, perhaps she craved being the country mouse of Aesop’s fable. It was all the woman could do to run off with sister and the Blood Fiend, nestled in the quiet coastal town of Shonai in Yamagata Prefecture.

“It’s rude to point out a lady’s age, sir.” Himeno accepted the cigarette regardless. A large portion of her bangs were white and gray, her eye showing signs of crow’s feet. “What are you doing in little ole Shonai?” Smoke wafted from her mouth with a soft exhale.

“I started my own delivery service,” Kishibe gestured his cigarette to his car. “and you’re my first and only customer.”

Himeno’s smile was amused, but her one visible eye was anything but. “Funny, I don’t recall me or my sister ordering anything.”

“Consider this your lucky day then, it’s the delivery of a lifetime.” Kishibe didn’t miss a beat. “It’s a two-for-one deal.”

“I’ve had enough once-in-a-lifetime deals.” Himeno crushed her cigarette on the bottom of her foot before flicking it to the wayside. With more than a hint of finality, she waved and walked in the opposite direction of his vehicle. “Whatever it is, you should keep it to-”

“It’s the new Control Devil.” Those words made Himeno stop in her tracks. “They discovered her in China, but I managed to nick her.” Just in time to thwart disaster. Makima had been a ticking time bomb that had been staved off successfully when ー appeared in her life. That timer began once again when ー was killed in an attack by the Rat Devil. If the Chinese government had disposed of your current incarnation in front of the new Control Devil, Kishibe knew that there would have been no preventing the hell that would be unleashed upon the world.

Still, it would be best for the two of you to be protected til you could properly fend for yourselves.

Himeno’s shoulder shook for a few moments, it wasn’t hard to imagine the thoughts going through her head. I can keep on walking, she possibly thought. I can pretend I didn’t hear anything. Yet human nature got the better of her, Himeno sighing shakily, “why’d you bring her to me?”

“I’m not fit to raise children and out of all my old contacts, you’re the one I trust the most to do a good job handling her.” Kishibe answered truthfully. Not even Quanxi could be relied on for such a task. As much as he trusted his unrequited love, he knew the woman would have less of an interest in raising children than she did his old advances.

“What’s the second part of the deal?”

“Take a look in the car.”

Warily, the former devil hunter turned around, taking slow steps towards the car and leaned close to the window.

Himeno said nothing for a while as Kishibe watched her back, knowing that she was likely experiencing a strong wave of emotion. Everything likely clicked the moment she saw you. The same skin tone, the same hair texture, everything exactly the same as she remembered. “ー always knew about Makima, didn’t she.” Despite her phrasing, it was not a question. It was a soft, emotional observation.

“This new one shouldn’t have any of Makima’s old memories, but it seems this is one attachment she can’t shake.” Perhaps this was part of their contract. Leave it to Makima to make the implausible possible. The life of a devil may have been cyclical in nature, but reincarnation among humans was unproven. Yet here you were in all your similarities to ー. Kishibe didn’t ponder what this meant for humanity. If this meant his old buddies were somewhere walking around earth as new beings. Perhaps you were simply an exception, a product of the contract ー made with Makima. Makima did say you’d stay together forever.

Kishibe doubted he would ever receive an answer. All he was certain was that if you were the one thing keeping the Control Devil from wreaking havoc on the world, you were a necessary piece of the puzzle.

“This one isn’t ー either, she’s [First]. She doesn’t have any memories from before.” Kishibe warned, lightly tapping Himeno’s shoulder. He didn’t need the woman to get any false hopes. ー was dead, there was no doubt about it. The age separating Himeno and yourself was succinct proof. You weren’t the friend she lost more than a decade prior. “If you really can’t handle it, I’ll figure things out.”

Himeno’s one blue eye shone with more fire he’d seen since the last time he’d seen her. “I’m glad you feel that way,” the man tipped his proverbial hat to her. “I’ll be back when they’re old enough for defense training.”

“Hey, Gramps, where are we?” You demanded once you had woken up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. He might have saved your life, but he had kept you in the dark long enough.

Nayuta ungraciously yawned,“I have to pee.”

The wizened man took a hard look at the pack of cigarettes in his hand before shoving it in his pocket, sighing heavily. “We’re in Shonai over in Japan.” At last, he introduced the woman next to him. “This is Himeno, she’ll be taking care of you both from now on.”

You shared a look with Nayuta, wondering if this place would really be the best for you. It beats living where we were though, you were forced to admit. A part of you would miss the room you and Nayuta called home for the longest time, where you had your wedding and where you drew on the floor when you got bored. But you planned to leave that building someday, hoping you’d be leading a better life by then. ‘Someday’ simply came faster than you expected.

Thanks, old man, you doubted you would see much of him again though as you saw his car become smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Do either of you like cartoons?” Himeno asked when it was just the three of you. “What do you like watching?” When neither of you could come up with a response, Himeno cheerily made the decision for you. “We have the complete Ashita no Nadja set at home, we can watch that when we get there. But since we’re celebrating your arrival, you have to pick dinner.”

Nayuta wasted no time in answering that question, “I want pancakes.”

You rolled your eyes, bemused. “What if I want burgers though?”

Nayuta looked at you carefully, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility. “We want burgers and pancakes,” she told Himeno a second later.

“Burgers and pancakes,” Himeno said more to herself than anyone else. “Alright, I can work with that.”

translation notes:

i. happy end ii. it’s pure love iii. sorry iv. the story of hikoboshi and orihime v. “don’t go, don’t go, don’t go! don’t go anywhere! don’t go away! stay with me forever!” the control devil shouted. her soul shouted. vi. word of oath vii. old friend viii. makima and nayuta

#look she's writing #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #makima x reader #nayuta

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skyward-floored · 5 months

Note

Hello!!

Um…

I really loved that one fic you wrote called “caged” with fable and legend, and I also really liked the sequel. I love how you described the scenes, it was really fun to read!

I saw that you were talking with another user about how legend got into the castle, and you mentioned that he probably got in through the secret passage way that he knows from alttp

I was wondering if maybe you were thinking about writing a prequel to that fic?

Maybe about how the chain lands in Legends Hyrule and they see Hyrule castle looming in the distance, perhaps under a spell of some kind and legend immediately runs towards it to find he can’t enter normally and he tells the chain that he does know of a way in. So they enter through the secret passageway and perhaps legend gets some flashbacks to alttp as they’re fighting monsters (or maybe brainwashed guards) and looking for fable.

It’s just a suggestion tho! I’m aware you have other stuff to do, so…

Uh anyways, I really liked this years whumptober fics a Lot too, they were all amazing! You are really such a talented writer!

That’s all, hugs!!🫂🫂🫂

I hope you have a nice day

So I wasn’t really thinking about writing a prequel at all, and I don’t do requests really but... well. The idea intrigued me, and I sat down and started writing, and this came out 😅

It’s minimally edited and certainly not my best work, but hey, it’s something. I hope you enjoy the little prequel anon, and thank you for the kind words :)

Caged

The sequel (Aftermath)

———————————————————

Again.

It was all Legend could think of as he stared at the castle in the distance, dread and anger and too many emotions for him to name making his hands shake.

They’d just exited a portal, landing in his Kakariko, and the relief of being back in his own time was immediately overshadowed by the oppressive dark magic in the air. Impa had found them soon after, and explained with a worried look in her eyes about a wizard who had tricked them, and overtaken the castle.

With Zelda inside.

The blood had begun to roar in Legend’s ears as Impa explained further, but he was barely listening anymore, his head spinning and chest tight with anger.

She’s in danger again, the kingdom’s in trouble again, and I wasn’t here to protect—

“Legend, what should we—?”

He took off.

He ignored the shouts of the others, the calls for him to wait up, and booked it towards the castle, his pegasus boots making it impossible for the other heroes to keep up with him. Rain had begun to fall at some point, but Legend didn’t let it stop him, not even when he nearly wiped out in a puddle.

He reached the castle gates in mere minutes, and banged a fist on the doors. They were shut tight though, sealed with magic that Legend knew he wouldn’t be able to break. But he pounded against them anyway, took out one of his rods and blasted at it, tried his rings and items and all sorts of things before finally kicking at them with an angry yell.

The others had caught up to him by then, and they joined his side, split evenly between looking at him and looking up at the gates.

“How are we going to get in?” Wind asked a little hesitantly, and Legend sighed, swiping some drops of rain off his face.

“I know a way.”

He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, but it looked like it was the only way they could get inside.

Legend led them all around to the east side of the castle, the group’s weapons drawn and eyes squinted through the rain for any enemies. It was only a passing shower, not a torrential thunderstorm like the last time he’d used this passage, but the similarities still made Legend tense.

History sure does love repeating itself.

More then one concerned look was shot his way as they went, but Legend ignored them, as well as the memories that were trying to claw their way to the forefront of his mind. He had a job to do and a princess to save, and he wasn’t going to get lost in his head.

Even though this was at least the fourth time he’d done this and he was so tired of evil striking at his kingdom and the people he loved and having to stop them again and again. He wasn’t going to think about it.

Not now.

They didn’t run into any monsters on the way to the other side of the castle, which made Legend suspicious, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He quickly revealed the secret passage that would lead them inside, and gestured the others in.

“That’s convenient,” Wild commented, and Warriors studied the passage in interest.

“Are you the only one who uses this tunnel? Seems like a security risk.”

“Only a few people know it exists,” Legend replied, then dropped in so he wouldn’t have to continue the conversation.

Legend took the lead as they began to walk down the tunnel, and kept himself several paces in front of the others, his shoulders slowly hitching upward.

Water dripped as they walked along the passage, running on the edges and making the floor damp. There weren’t any monsters in this spot either, which made it easy for Legend to stride as quickly as possible past the spot where his uncle had breathed his last.

He hated being down here. He hated the reason he was down here and the slimy feel of the floor under his boots, and the smell in the air and the squeak of rats he hated it.

And was it his imagination, or was he smelling blood?

“Legend?”

Legend breathed in sharply as a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked over at Twilight, the older hero giving him a searching look. They were nearly to where the dungeons connected, he didn’t want to stop now.

“You alright?” Twilight asked, and Legend let out a bitter laugh.

“Sure, I love coming home to find out the kingdom got taken over in my absence. And nobody knows what happened to my Zelda, and getting to tromp around in the sewers, I’m having the time of my life, thanks,” he snapped. “What’s one more crisis for the kingdom of Hyrule?”

Twilight’s hand didn’t leave his shoulder. “Legend.”

Legend stopped in his tracks and glared back at Twilight, gripping his sword so tightly he was sure it was leaving lines in his palms. “What.”

“We’ll save her, Legend,” Twilight said firmly, and gave his shoulder a bracing squeeze. “You’re not alone. You’ve got us this time— whatever this wizard is capable of is no match for all nine of us. We’ll save Zelda, and the kingdom. We’ll stop this together.”

Legend stared, then looked behind Twilight to where the rest of the Links were standing, and they all gave him equally determined looks. Their eyes were bright and fierce, and full of just as much resolve to save Zelda as his own were.

Legend felt his eyes sting, but he forced himself to blink the tears back, and nodded at Twilight, breathing out as some of the emotions storming in his chest eased a bit.

Twilight released his shoulder, and Legend turned back around, waving them all onward.

“Only a bit further to the dungeons. We’ll check for Zelda there first, but if she’s not there, we’ll... we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Legend said firmly. “Finding her is our biggest objective. The wizard comes second.”

The others nodded as they crossed through a doorway, and Legend squared his shoulders, shoving away the rest of his anxiety and terror and digging up the courage in his chest that had gotten him through six adventures already.

We’re coming Zelda, hold on, he thought desperately, shouting a warning back to the others as they reached the dungeons, and an enemy’s sword nearly took his head off.

Please be okay.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #lu legend #lu chain #can be read as fable/legend :)#answers from the floor #anon #writing from the floor #I didn’t totally follow your idea but I hope you like it anon!

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justathoughtfulangel · 9 months

Text

Nothing But The Truth ~ Kai Parker One Shot

*not my gif

Pairing: siphon!Kai X witch!Saltzman!Reader

Word Count: 3,388

Requested?: Yes

This is a sequel to "I'd Rather You Lie." I've done my best to make sure this piece is readable as a one shot, but if you'd like to read the prequel, please read it here.

This IS a reader insert fic; I just don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of names. Use Rosalie/Rosie/Rose as a placeholder for Y/N :)

Description: Kai betrayed her trust, used her for his own selfish means. Now, he can't bear the pain and hurt he's caused her. Malachai understands now that he loves her, but is love enough to mend a broken heart?

Warnings: angst/heartbreak and minor mature language

The story begins after the break! I hope you enjoy reading it :)

“I’d rather you lie.”

It was easier for Rosalie when he lied. It had been easier to believe it was real. Now, she’d heard the lies so often she couldn’t possibly know what was true anymore. Kai’s ramblings came to a halt. Rose’s smile was more akin to a grimace. There were no tears in her eyes; there was nothing in her eyes as if there was no soul behind them.

Malachai had hurt many people in his life. He’d murdered his siblings, and he’d spent years torturing himself. Somehow, this emptiness in her was worse than all the damage he’d done combined. “Rosalie…” She just shook her head, walking passed him. There was still no emotion on her face as she hugged her winter jacket around her body. Kai watched her walk away, feeling the snow settle in his hair. The cold did not compare to all the pain that consumed him.

He tried to take a shaky breath. With a choked gasp and unbearable pain in his heart, Malachai watched her until she became a speck of dust in the distance. The worst part of it all? She didn’t turn to look back at him once.

Was it his fault for breaking her heart, or was it hers for allowing him to hold it in the first place? Her brain and heart grappled over this question every night, making it impossible to sleep. Thanks to Kai, she couldn’t return to the life she’d once loved. There was nothing left inside her that would allow her to love.

It wasn’t as if Rose was a stranger to pain. She’d been abandoned by people before. The people who brought her into the world had died. The ones who adopted her into their home as a child saw her as only a paycheck. Even Alaric was dead for a few years before miraculously coming alive again. None of those heartaches had destroyed her in the same way Malachai had.

Perhaps it was because it was her first time truly being in love. She couldn’t feel anything anymore, not even anger. Though her mind and heart disagreed on whose fault it was, they both knew feeling the agony of that betrayal would consume her.

For now, all she could do was continue existing in an endless cycle – school, work, Dad, friends, eat, sleep, repeat. ~

A new semester was starting after winter break, and Rosalie considered it a fresh start. She would put herself out there again; she’d try to come back to life. Rose was sitting in a large lecture hall, waiting for the professor of her creative writing course to arrive. She twirled her stylus around her fingers, making random doodles on her iPad. Someone sat down a few seats away from her, but she paid them no mind.

The hall continued to fill, and Professor Smith arrived ten minutes late. She was fun, and her quippy nature made up for the tardiness. Listening to a professor review a syllabus wasn’t boring for once. Rosalie was paying close attention, jotting down miscellaneous notes about due dates and assignment details.

“Your final paper, worth 30% of your grade, will be a writing piece: eight to ten pages long with attention to all topics and techniques we’ll review throughout the semester. Students who do best on this assignment never fail to present their learnings in a unique, refreshing way. Nothing should limit your imagination. Isn’t that right, boy who can’t stop staring at the girl in his row?” Rose was looking at the professor when she singled out the student not listening. As did the other students, she, too, looked around to see who the professor was scolding. Her grip slackened on her stylus as she heard his voice a few feet away. She would know that voice anywhere. “Y-yes, Professor. I’m sorry.” The professor nodded and continued. Malachai stole one more glance in her direction when the professor’s back was turned, and his eyes met Rosalie’s after weeks of not seeing each other.

Before he could talk to her, Rose rushed out of the lecture hall. Was he stalking her now? Swallowing away the bitter taste in her mouth, Rosalie instinctively made her way to her dad’s office. Glancing at the time, she knew Alaric was giving a lecture. Unlocking the door with magic and locking it behind her, Rose collapsed onto the couch. Her head fell into her hands, and her foot tapped against the ground anxiously.

Rosalie hadn’t yet asked her dad for Kai’s true story. She didn’t want to know it anymore; she told herself she didn’t care about him and whatever was causing him pain. Whether she would admit it or not, Rosalie was lying to herself, just as Kai had lied to her for weeks.

She stayed in the same spot for hours, finally looking up when she heard the door unlock. Alaric smiled at his daughter, unsurprised to find her here. This was a first-day-of-the-semester tradition for them – tea in his office and unpacking what happened in their new classes. Ric turned on the hot water kettle, pulling out mugs and tea for them. He only noted her troubles when she greeted him without energy, and his smile faded quickly. “Rosalie? What’s the matter?”

Rose sighed deeply, not knowing where to start. “I need you to tell me everything about Kai, Dad. Please.” The turmoil had been suppressed long enough; she bit the bullet and watched Ric’s expression twitch. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Hot water and honey were poured into their mugs. Rose kicked her shoes off, curled her legs under her, and claimed the steaming cup of tea. The silence was broken only when Alaric sat beside her on the couch.

He was torn about how much he should involve her but hiding the truth from Rose allowed Kai to hurt her. Ric wouldn’t hide things from her anymore. “Malachai is Josette’s twin brother.” A confused expression came over Rose’s face immediately. “Jo is in her early 40s. How is that possible?” To his credit, Alaric told her everything without biased embellishments, telling her the story exactly as Jo told him.

Of course, even he didn’t know the story from Malachai’s perspective.

He told her about how Kai was meant to merge with Jo and become the leader of the Gemini coven, how he was never worthy of the position. When he found out the thing he lusted after for twenty-two years would never be his, Kai snapped, murdering four of his little siblings in cold blood. Kai stuck a hunting knife into Josette and took out her spleen. Ultimately, he was after Lucas and Olivia. The Coven locked him up in a prison world, and he escaped when Bonnie and Damon ended up there after the Other Side collapsed.

Rosalie listened to everything, finding it impossible to believe that the guy she knew – the guy she thought she knew – was capable of all of this. Even as she left her dad’s office, Rose repeated the story in her mind. There had to be more to this story. No one was born evil. Something must have happened to Kai - something so horrible and cruel that his only choice was to protect himself this way.

Alaric had heard the story from Jo, but he hadn’t seen the tears Kai shed when no one was around to see them. Whatever caused him to snap tormented him even now, and no one should live that way. Despite this, Rosalie didn’t have it in her to forgive him. Maybe it was selfish, but he’d used someone who trusted him for reasons she could barely justify.

The door to her apartment closed behind her. Trying to push the thoughts away, Rose walked over to her fridge. She pulled it open, and the wave of cool air sent her mind reeling back…

Even on the drive back to Mystic Falls, her thoughts were consumed with Kai. He’d kissed her, and then he disappeared. What kind of decent person does that? Rosalie had begun to think that maybe she didn’t know Malachai at all. Her thoughts would be proven right a few minutes later. When Rose entered the Salvatore House, she heard the flames of the fireplace crackling and voices coming from the living room. “How do you know my daughter?” Her dad was threatening someone, holding them by their neck as he tilted the chair towards the fireplace. Damon forced him away, trying to calm Alaric down. “Easy, Papa Bear. Kai’s going to cooperate. Talk. Now.” Kai? Her Kai? No… “Didn’t you know? I’ve been dating her for a while. Here I thought she told you everything, Alaric. Of course, she thinks it’s real, which is sweet, really. At least someone among us has a heart.” Kai kept on talking, but she heard none of it. It was as if her senses had been disconnected from her brain. “She’s just so welcoming… it was so easy to step into her life. I could get into all of yours and take what I’ve always wanted. But you really didn’t need to torture me to get that out of me, did you? I think I’m an excellent communicator.” Damon and her dad had already seen Rose standing there, and when Damon forced Kai’s chair around, she registered the briefest flicker of remorse in his eyes. She didn’t have it in her to care, not right now. All she did was turn around and leave. The air outside felt so much colder than she could bear. It bit her cheeks as tears filled her eyes. Rosalie refused to let them fall. She would not cry over someone who was using her.

The tears that had refused to spill all those months ago came bubbling to the surface. Her knees buckled below her, and her hands rushed to cover her mouth as a pained scream came out. All the agony at his betrayal created burning trails on her cheeks, and as she curled up on the ground, her shoulders shook with each sob.

Rosalie finally let herself admit that she had loved Malachai: she probably still did. She’d put her heart into someone’s hands for the first time and this was what she earned in return. Nothing in her life felt fair. How many more people would hurt her before she could finally be free?

The anguish she’d failed to acknowledge and process now took over. It subsided hours later when the chill from the open fridge had coated her spine and the door beeped in protest. Rose gave it a weak push and it creaked shut.

She’d loved him, and now she didn’t think she could love anymore.

Caroline smacked a piece of paper down on the table in front of Rosalie. “The annual Whitmore Bitter Ball is on Saturday, and you’re coming.” Rose picked up the flyer, smiling without amusement at the clashing black and grey letters. “Come onnnn, you’re the one that’s most bitter in love out of any of us.”

Elena and Bonnie gave Caroline a withering stare, while Rose just shook her head. “Sorry… insensitive.” She cleared her throat, trying to dispel the awkwardness. “You should come, Rosalie. We all deserve a night out.” Elena was gently encouraging in stark contrast to Caroline. Rose didn’t know how she felt about it. “Okay, dance or no dance, at least come dress shopping with us? We need your opinions.” Truthfully, it sounded dreadful. After a long blink, Rosalie smiled and agreed. “Fine. It’ll be just like high school.” It wouldn’t be for her; it would be for her friends.

A few hours later, Rosalie was walking between aisles upon aisles of dresses. Some were gaudy and drew way too much attention. Some were too plain for a ball. Then again, maybe plain was best – something that could help her hide in the shadows as she attended the dance for the sake of her worried friends.

Rose ultimately chose a silken, black gown. It had an attractive sweetheart neckline and golden embellishments around the waist. The skirt didn’t puff out obnoxiously, and with a golden mask to abide by the masquerade policy, it was the perfect disguise.

On Saturday evening, Rosalie found herself standing in the corner of the grand ballroom. People were all over the place: some drunk, some dancing, some crying, and some doing all of the above. Rose watched people move about behind her mask, twirling the straw around in her gin and soda with extra limes. She’d promised Caroline she’d stay out for an hour, and thankfully, the hour was almost up.

Downing her drink, Rosalie walked across the dance floor. She had managed to artfully avoid the masses until she reached the bar. The glass clinked down onto the granite counter, right beside someone also attending this ball alone. He turned around slowly, setting down his own glass. They looked at each other silently for a few heavy seconds, neither saying a word.

Malachai’s eyes shined in the dim lighting of the ballroom, swimming with numerous feelings yet glistening with the joy of seeing her. Rosalie’s expression remained passive, unreadable. She’d cried her heart out already. What was the next step in the process of healing from heartbreak?

“I don’t know how a ball for the brokenhearted could be such a hit,” Kai said. Rose smiled without amusement, looking around at the crowd once again. “You never know, maybe lots of people have broken hearts around here.” Malachai swallowed away the knot of emotion in his throat, his eyes darting to the dance floor. “Maybe you’re right.”

He refused to meet her eyes, and it sparked something inside her. It was some convoluted mixture of rage, pain, desperation, and, most unexpectedly, a tinge of hope. “Dance with me?” She held out her hand to him in challenge. Kai’s gaze flit between her hand, the dancing couples, and the gleam in her eyes. Whatever brought it back, he’d missed it dearly. He took her hand, leading her to join the crowds.

Rose let out a soft laugh at the song change, wondering if Caroline had something to do with the music. War of Hearts played over the speakers as Kai’s hand came to rest on her waist. Their fingers linked together, and this time, everything else fell away.

Come to me in the night hours. I will wait for you.

Both recalled the same memories as they stepped in unison. Their awkward first interaction in the coffee shop. The first date where Kai was trying to be charming but ended up spilling soda all over his shirt. His tears when the thoughts of his past tormented him. The devastation they both felt when Rosalie found out about Malachai’s betrayal.

“Have you been stalking me, by the way?” Kai almost smiled, his brow rising. “Would you believe me if I said I had no idea you’d be in the same section?” He twirled her around, pulling her back to him. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe, Malachai.”

She’d been the only one who could use his full first name without making him flinch. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Kai sighed, resigned with himself. “I don’t know what I can say, Rose. You have every right to not trust me. Let me just ask you one thing, and then I will leave you alone.”

I can’t help but love you, even though I try not to. I can’t help but want you. I know that I’d die without you.

“Do you honestly think I didn’t break my own heart when I broke yours?” His arms wrapped around her as Kai selfishly pulled her close. If this was the last time, he needed to hold her close. The back of his hand brushed her cheek, and he memorized the feel of her soft skin. He was close enough to see the reflection of his dark, satin mask in Rosalie’s eyes.

Rose didn’t know how to react. Her first instinct was to say no. He had sounded so convincing when he gloated to Ric and Damon about how he used her. How could that be the voice of someone with a broken heart? That same person stood in front of her now, looking at her with deeper affection and sincerity unlike anything she’d known before.

Rosalie held the hand brushing her cheek, wrapping her own around it before stepping away from Kai. “Malachai, I can’t do this again.” Kai had let her walk away once. He wouldn’t give up without a fight this time. “Please… I promise I won’t ever hurt you. I won’t lie to you. From now on, nothing but the truth.”

I can’t help but be wrong in the dark, ‘cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts. I can’t help but want oceans to part, ‘cause I’m overcome in this war of hearts.

With those words, Rose threw her arms around Malachai and kissed him. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was just plain stupid. It didn’t matter. Not trusting him had been so unendurably painful; even if he played her again, it would be worth it.

Kai froze in surprise for a fraction of a second, not expecting her to give him the one thing he wanted most. He took her face in his hands, suppressing a sob of relief and joy. Malachai brought her closer, hugging her flush against his body.

People still danced around them, oblivious to the two souls who’d found each other and would never part again.

The end of the semester approached, faster than anticipated. Malachai and Rosalie had spent the last months together, and true to his word, he hadn’t lied to her… until tonight.

In his lonesome years in the prison world, Kai had honed his cooking and baking skills. Tonight, after a long week of finals, they were making Kai’s chocolate chip cookies – a recipe he’d refined and mastered over twelve years. Rosalie was whipping together browned butter and sugar, and Kai was chopping chunks of dark chocolate into shards with a knife. The apartment smelled like toasted sugar, and their playful banter brought them much-needed laughter.

“Where’d you put the vanilla extract I brought over?” Rosalie was looking in Kai’s kitchen drawers, and just as she reached one near the edge of the counter, he stepped in front of her. “Not in that one! There’s nothing in that one. Let’s move on.” Why was he in such a rush to get her away from that drawer?

“Malachai… what are you hiding from me?” He sighed and stepped aside, remembering his promise to her. Rose didn’t take her eyes off him as she opened the drawer. Looking down, she halted in shock at the only object inside: a small black jewelry box.

Kai grabbed it before she could, putting it behind her back. She gave him a look, raising her eyebrows in question. “What are you hiding from me?” She repeated her question, her voice even more pointed, now with curiosity rather than suspicion. Adorably anxious, Kai nipped at his lower lip and tugged at his hair momentarily.

Setting the box on the kitchen counter, Kai flipped its lid. Within it, tucked into cushioned velvet, lay matching silver rings. They were similar in style to the ones Malachai often wore, the metal bands thick and fairly plain. He removed them both, showing her the inscription inside the bands: nothing but the truth.

“This isn’t a proposal. Not yet, at least.” Kai’s nervousness didn’t help him get these words out, but when he looked up, looking into her eyes, suddenly it was much easier. “I wanted us to have something that reminds us of our journey and how far we’ve come. I want us to have these.” Before he said anything more, Kai slipped his ring onto his middle finger. Rosalie accepted his gift and put on her ring. She took his hand and laced their fingers together. “Thank you, Kai,” Rose spoke with tenderness, holding Kai’s face. “I’ll never take it off.” Their lips met in a sweet kiss, and the smooth metal of their rings clinked together quietly. They squeezed each other’s hands lovingly, now certain neither would let go.

~~~

That's all for this piece! Thank you to the anon who requested I give them a happy ending; this story would not exist without you :)

Please feel free to send any thoughts/comments/constructive criticisms my way. I always welcome them.

If you’d like to be tagged in future Kai Parker works, feel free to message me/leave a comment here. If you liked this story, feel free to check out my other stories from my Malachai Parker Masterlist (pinned to the top of my profile).

Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel

Master Taglist: @socio-kai-path1972, @bluelicious, @genevivetaylor, @kolsangel, @callsign-luckyshot

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legendary-guest · 9 days

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Commenting/reviewing fanfiction is a sure fire way to ensure that a fandom develops a community, which in turns encourages authors, from beginners to veterans, to continue writing. So, how do you engage with fanfic authors in a way that's meaningful and reflective of your appreciation for their work? - Read a fic more than once: Perhaps the best piece of advice I can provide to prep anyone for reviewing. You don't have to do it right after a first read (but hey, some stories are just that good!), you can wait and come back to it. A few hours, a day, a week, maybe longer depending on the time you have. When you return, read again or skim through, and jot down your thoughts. You will find they are much more coherent, and potentially constructive, than on your first reading. - Whatever sticks out to you, mention in your review: This will naturally happen in your time away from a fic, even if you forget the whole story. This is a pretty good sign that you enjoyed it! You should share this enjoyment, and with wild abandon, in your review! - Speculate and ask: If you have questions, ask them! If you are speculating, if you have a particular reading that you have lifted from a story, mention it! Authors, on the whole, tend to be very receptive to alternative views of their work. The exciting part in reviewing publicly is seeing what other readers have noticed that you haven't. It helps to generate a buzz, a hype, especially for multi-chapter fanfics. - Improvement doesn't happen in a vacuum, provide constructive criticism: Now, con. crit. has been deemed a social faux pas in the past decade or so in fandom that originates from this website. However, if you enjoy a story from an author but they have spelling errors, grammatical errors, even something more 'serious' like aspects of a story that aren't working, you should mention it, because it will stop them making similar mistakes in future. They can improve faster with your input. It also shows other fans that it is okay to make mistakes. Some authors take con. crit. poorly, either due to their age or other factors. You can usually tell the general maturity of an author by their writing and if they have responded to other commenters. Either way, their reaction to your con. crit. is their own, not yours. - Only review what you like: Reviewing should be enjoyable for you, the reader. Just like rambling on your Tumblr blog about character of the week, reviewing/commenting is your opportunity to do this on the website the fic is hosted on, whether that's AO3, FF.Net, or, reblogging a fic and adding your comment/review in your reblog. For you, the reader, it is there to develop a deeper appreciation for the story that you have read. You provide a knock-on effect in helping out the author, helping out other readers and fostering a community of people who can be open with their opinions, viewpoints, which in turn, generates more public discussion, more fan work, etc. Who should be reviewing fanfic? Everyone that reads fanfic! A more realistic answer would be people who have time to read fanfic but not write their own. Reviewing is a good way to engage in community without devoting a lot of your own creativity to it - you can even remain totally anonymous, depending on the platform. Reviewing can take a long time, or a short time, depending on the story. It's fun to find out! But remember, you shouldn't rush to get a review out for anyone, you work on it in your time and on your terms. Reviewing is for you, too! This is your chance to talk about what you love with someone who will be receptive to your enthusiasm - the author. If you want to get into fanfic, but have no idea where to start, I would suggest reviewing first! You will develop an eye for the style of writing that you like, particular characterisations you enjoy, amongst many other things. You might be inspired by other fanfics, too! Have an idea for a prequel, sequel, midquel for a fic you've read? What about an idea you saw in a fic that you'd love to explore more?

Or an alternative path/story that you saw but the author didn't take? Reviewing will help you to realise this.

You will enjoy fanfiction a lot more this way, too. Legacy fandoms, such as that of Star Trek, Star Wars, etc. have more staying power due to, not just the constant influx of official content, but because the people that write fanfiction have people who review them, and who review and critique them, respectfully.

I would love to see more people review! It's a really powerful gift that is at your disposal, dear reader. Who else can claim to bring those back from the dead? It could be you, it could be you…

#fandom culture #ao3 comments #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfic reviewing #archive of our own #fandom #fandom community #legendary advice #I write this as someone who reviews! Not from the perspective of an author at least here #What the Hell do I even tag this as #What do I even tag this as for my reference/for the purpose of this blog #Hell if I know

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codaattheend · 26 days

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[tagged by @vhstapeworm]

("Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers.")

IMMORTALIS is a FitMC-centric QSMP pseudo-prequel made in a fugue state over the course of four hours, during which half my time was spent figuring out how to do the title formatting. The corruption inherent in divinity, the sanctity of data, the differences between anarchy servers and narrativised servers manifesting as mind alteration and control. Even if you don't know anything about the fandom, I beseech you to click in just to see the title formatting. Perhaps hover/tap it as well...

Ghost Stories is a Schlackity fic about love irrevocably entwined with envy, trying and failing to move on from something you refuse to let go of, and a bit of cannibalism, both literal and metaphorical. It is one of the few fics I've written where I feel like I've properly captured the distinct emotional flavor I was attempting to convey. Here, it is bitterness, hunger, and longing long since rotting in the ground.

something deep and powerful is a D20: Neverafter gorefic about cannibalism. This is the only fic I've ever written that actively made me feel uncomfortable. I looked up so many concerning anatomy things for this fic. It is also, in its own way, about abusive mothers.

Swan Song is an AEduo Witcher AU fic made as part of a recursive telephone fic challenge (each work inspired by the previous), featuring curses, cycles, death, and the simple agony of loss. I'm decently proud of the tonality I managed to hit, like light through stained glass. I recommend reading the work this is inspired by and the next few works inspired by it, since we all got into a Witcher groove for a bit.

Paradox Cascade and its sequel/part two Killing Time are my first forays into the CYOA genre of fic, narrativisations of In Space With Markiplier parts one and two. These taught me so much about HTML, workskins, links, and more. They are decently ugly, un-innovative, messily made, and I love them. If I were writing them with the knowledge of CSS I have now, I would have done more ambitious things with them, but these taught me everything that I am using now for a new CYOA fic (that should have been finished over a year ago (for a 48-hour flash exchange (sorry Floral))).

(I think all the authors I know on this site have already been tagged, so if you see this and are a fic writer, consider yourself tagged. (Also, feel free to say hi.))

#crabmail from the omen #(These fics are also the five that most reveal my deep-set psychological problems if anyone's interested in psychoanalysing me.)

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gffa · 1 year

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hi lumi! pls don't feel pressured to answer this but i'm currently reading Phasma by delilah dawson (i'm loving it so far) and i was wondering if you would know some nice sequels' books and comics to get into (preferably the ones that delve more into the first order but anything works tbh)? I know your thing is mostly the prequels (it's more my thing too tbh) but i was wondering if you could help me or perhaps if you would know someone who could help me with it?

Hi! I actually do have a handful of sequels-centric content that I've liked! When the expanded world of SW comics and novels was first getting started, there was a lot of focus on the sequels and a lot of it was genuinely delightful and to this day I still heartily recommend them! Phasma is one of them (I loved that that book was just so joyfully batshit in exactly the way a Star Wars book should be) and my recs for other stuff you'll hopefully enjoy are:

Captain Phasma by Kelly Thompson (comic) - Gorgeous art, a solid story, and even some Feelings if you've read the Phasma novel, because it features some flashbacks from there.

Poe Dameron by Charles Soule (comic) - In addition to being one of the best SW comic runs out there, it's also a great look at Poe's character, has gorgeous art, and is just a fantastic read all the way around, I would put it at the top of my recs list.

Aftermath, Aftermath: Life Debt, Aftermath: Empire's End by Chuck Wendig (book) - I always recommend that I think this series almost MUST be in audiobook form, that I could not get into it in novel form, but the audiobooks were such a fun adventure. This does the most establishing of the galaxy after the Empire falls, it gets into several of the characters that would go on to help form the First Order. It's mostly a set of new characters (that I grew to love) and the OT characters, but I think it helps set the world a lot, so if you don't mine the lack of ST characters, it does lead into ST worldbuilding.

Bloodline by Claudia Gray (book) - Is a Leia story and is mostly about why she stops being a Senator and founds the Resistance, but it helps tell the foundation of the New Republic (along with the Aftermath trilogy) and the rising of the First Order. It's still quoted a lot for some pretty iconic Leia moments, but I think if you're looking for ST worldbuilding (as opposed to sequels characters), it's good for that, too.

Star Wars Battlefront II (game) - The story of Battlefront II is focused on the OT characters, but I like recommending it because it does a lot of great work in connecting the OT to the ST, including moments of how the First Order came to be, and has some really great Luke characterization. You can look up a "movie" version on YouTube and watch it that way!

Spark of the Resistance by Justina Ireland (book) - I hesitate to recommend this one whole-heartedly if you're not already hip-deep in SW books, because it is very referential to other SW comics/books, but I genuinely enjoyed it as connective tissue between the ST movies where it showed all the characters coming together in this fight. It was cute and charming and had some delightful moments of the main cast!

Resistance Reborn by Rebecca Roanhorse (book) - Is much in the same vein as Spark of the Resistance, it does a lot of good connective work, is a charming read, and has good focus on the main ST characters!

Age of Resistance by Tom Taylor (comic) - This was a series of one-shots focused around several main characters and they're solid, fun highlights of the characters. I remember especially enjoying the Rey and Rose ones!

Star Wars Adventures by various authors (comic) - There are two volumes of this (they rebooted the title a couple of years ago) and basically any issue that has the sequels characters is a fun read. I mean, the whole entire series tends to be really great for any era, but the sequels ones are fun--including a darling one from the first volume with Poe and Rose interaction that has forever made me pine for more team-ups with those two.

Allegiance by Ethan Stacks (comic) - A mini-series set post-TLJ where they're trying to gather allies for the Resistance and has some lovely character moments, I especially remember feeling a lot for Leia in her scenes of trying to rally people to stand up against the First Order, now knowing it was her own son leading them.

Join the Resistance by Ben Acker and Ben Blacker (book) - This is a cautious rec because it's set during the time of the Resistance, but it doesn't really have a lot to do with them or even particularly strong worldbuilding, I just REALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH THOSE KIDS over the course of the series.

Star Wars: Resistance (TV series) - This show isn't for everyone, it's much more kid-friendly and the animation doesn't do it for everyone, but I adored the characters (especially Kaz, the main character) and their main antagonist is the building First Order, as well as occasional guest appearances by Phasma or Kylo Ren. It had a lot of heart, it was really charming, but it's a cautious rec despite that I loved it very much.

Hopefully, this should help you find some stuff to read!

#fic recs #novels #novel recs

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tathrin · 7 months

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Second Whumptober entry completed! It's a short prequel to this story, an Orpheus-and-Eurydice take on Legolas and Gimli's love and how to bring your dwarf to Valinor when he dies before you can smuggle him across the Sea. Both are stand-alone pieces and you do not need to read one to understand the other; although after reading this one, you may want to go on and read the sequel for a happier ending because this may be the worst thing I've ever written, and I don't mean because I'm disappointed with the story. It's good, I think; but your happy ending is definitely in another castle.

You can read it under the cut below, or on AO3 here.

Legolas stood on the shore, his shadow stretching long and dark across the white sands behind him, and stared out across the empty waves to the east. He had stood there since moonrise, or perhaps moonrise the night before; it was hard to say, when all the world seemed sunk in some grey veil that leeched all light from it anyway. Even the stars were veiled to him now, the stars that had ever been his people's closest friends; but the stars could bring no comfort to him now.

Nothing could.

Strain his keen eyes though he might, Legolas could not see the distant shore. The waves that lapped the sands and soaked his ankles were cold; the cries of the gulls soaring overhead were shrill and bitter. Their shadows wheeled across the sand around him, like fell beasts circling an old kill.

Legolas shivered, as elves ought not to shiver, and drew the too-short grey cloak tighter about his shoulders.

The cloak had been Gimli's, once; given to him many years ago by the Lady of Lórien on the other side of the Sundering Sea. The broach that had once clasped the soft grey mantle had been buried with its owner, of course, for Gimli had been buried in splendor, as befit the great Lord of Aglarond; and what more precious pin to bury with Gimli Lock-bearer than that which had been given him by his Lady? But the cloak had gone with Legolas, his own longer one wrapped around Gimli's cold body like a long grey shroud.

The cloak had gone with Legolas, and he wore it still, for all that the warmth it offered could never chase away the chill emptiness where Gimli's star-bright presence should have been.

"Gimli," he whispered, staring out across the empty waves, and only the gulls answered.

The weight of his empty heart, of the missing half of his soul, dragged at him, drawing his head low. Legolas dropped his gaze at last and let fresh tears run down his tear-streaked face, as cold and salty as the Sea. They dripped off his chin, landing in the waves that swirled around his ankles, and were gone; even the ripples of their fall consumed by the tide just as Gimli had been consumed by time, torn away from Legolas despite all his desperate efforts to hold on.

He closed his eyes, and wept, and it did not matter; without Gimli to rest his eyes upon, there was nothing there to see.

Soft footsteps crossed the sands behind him, but Legolas did not look up; merely folded his hands over his face and so blotted the light of the red sun out behind the darkness of his fingers.

Other fingers closed upon his shoulder, soft and merciless. "Please, my little leaf," his mother murmured. "Please, will you not come back to the forest?" Angmeril looked out across the water, and then back at Legolas again. "Please, will you not come away?"

Legolas dropped his hands and stared dully out across the empty waves. "I do not wish to," he rasped. His voice was low and rough as elvish voices never were; a ragged whisper left behind by the ravages of many desperate cries wailed unheeded. His hair hung lank and lustreless down his back, loose save for the ragged dwarven braids that were the only locks he could still muster the energy to plait, and even those were half-unraveled with neglect. His brown skin was sallow, his grey eyes flat and dull as heavy stormclouds. No stars shone in their bleak depths. "I do not wish to go anywhere," he said.

"Please," his mother said again. "You do yourself no good with this empty vigil, Legolas. Trust me: I have spent a long time staring at those waves, and there is nothing there to see."

"I know," said Legolas. He felt hollow, as though everything that had once served to fill his skin with light and laughter had been scraped away; he felt like the ashes that had been left after Mirkwood burned at the hands of Sauron's forces during the last war. He felt used up and empty and very, very alone. "I know," he said again, and that was the root of everything that was wrong, of course: there was nothing to see but the empty waves that Gimli would never sail across.

Gimli was gone, and nothing would ever mean anything again.

For a while, Angmeril said nothing. Legolas watched the waves, and she watched her son. He shivered in the cold sea breeze and drew Gimli's cloak tight about his neck, but there was no warmth left for him in that soft weave. No warmth left for him.anywhere, even in his mother's arms.

Angmeril tucked loose, dull hair behind Legolas's and stroked her hand gently down the gaunt curve of his cheek. "You do yourself no good with this, my little leaf," she said again, her voice heavy with sorrow. "Please, Legolas, you must come away; you must turn your eyes from the east. You are still Fading, little one; you must let your grief go before it consumes you."

Legolas said nothing. He kept his eyes fixed on the empty sea.

"Legolas…Legolas, your father did not send you to these shores so you could die here."

"Father should have left me to die in Middle-earth," Legolas spat back bitterly. "Then at least I might lie even now beside Gimli, rather than be sundered here from him forever."

"Gimli would not have wanted that."

"You did not know him," Legolas snarled, a fresh crack splintering across his shattered heart. "You do not know what he might want. You never met him."

"I know." The pain on Angmeril's face should have stopped him, but even that seemed to exist on the other side of some heavy veil and his mother's pain could not reach through that shroud to pierce his heart. "And I am sorry that I never did," she said softly, "but my dear little leaf…no one who loved you would have ever wanted you to die for them."

"No," Legolas agreed after a moment, his tone dark, "no you are right, amil, he would not; and that knowledge is why I ignored the urge to simply slit my throat beside Gimli's bower and let his dwarves bury me within his tomb. Would that I had not!" he cried. "Would that even now we lay together beneath those great glittering slabs of stone, twined together in dwarven dreams unto the breaking of the world!"

"You do not know that Aulë would have welcomed you into the dreams of his dwarves even if you lay dead beside one," Angmeril pointed-out sharply.

"No," Legolas agreed again, his voice even more bleak and bitter than before. "I do not; but I do know that the Valar would never have permitted a dwarf to join me on these shores. Mahal was ever the only one of his kind to care for the dwarves he made; I would sooner have taken my chances with his mercy than have come here, where there is chance of none."

"But you are here," Angmeril said, "and you are alive; it is too late, now, to make another choice, Legolas. You are here; you cannot go back to die. You must live."

"I did not choose that," Legolas rasped.

"I did not come to these shores by my choice either," Angmeril reminded her son. "I came for love of you, and your sister, and your father; I came because my only other choice was to die of the poison of that Morgul Blade, and risk my own spirit being caught by the Nazgûl and their master; risk being bound forever to my forest not as a part of it, but as a foul Unhoused shade haunting it, enslaved by the very creature that had cast it in such Shadow." Her voice was gentle, her words reasonable; but they fell on Legolas's ears like ragged blades, burrowing under his skin like stinging fire. "I came because staying would have meant not just dying, but being sundered from you all forever," Angmeril continued, and Legolas's skin clawed more with every word. "I did not come here and leave Middle-earth willingly, Legolas; I came because I had no other choice."

Legolas rounded on her, his dull eyes wild and weeping. "My choice was taken from me!" he screamed. "I wished to die in Middle-earth, where my spirit might someday find and reunite with his; and I was not allowed!"

"I will not regret that Thranduil saw your distress and chose to save your life by force," Angmeril snarled back. "I will not regret that he dragged you to that ship rather than leave you alone to die!"

"But I cannot live here, amil," Legolas pleaded. "I cannot live without him."

"Oh my little leaf," said Angmeril, her own voice breaking around her tears as she wrapped her son tight within his arms. Legolas allowed her to embrace him, but he did not hold her back; he could not seem to lift his arms against the weight of Gimli's death dragging at his spirit.

"You will have to find a way," Angmeril whispered, rising on her toes to reach his ear. "Somehow, you will have to find a way."

"Without Gimli, I do not know how."

Angmeril stepped back, holding Legolas's limp hands tight within her own. Her eyes searched his face, looking for something unspoken; whatever she sought, she did not seem to find it. "You lived without Gimli once," she said. "You lived without him for so many more years than the two hundred you had with him; surely you remember how to live without him still."

Legolas closed his eyes. "I did live without Gimli once, yes," he said, "but only because I did not know him yet; did not know how bright the world could be with Gimli in it. Now that I know…now that I have known that love, that light…now without him, all is shadow. All is dark and cold and empty now that he is gone. Amil, please…please, I do not know how."

Angmeril squeezed his hands. "I am sorry, Legolas," she whispered. "I can tell you only that it can be done; I cannot tell you how."

Legolas tore away from her. "It is not the same," he snapped. "You know that you will see ada again someday; know that one day, one way or another, you will meet again. But Gimli…Gimli is lost to me, forever. It is not the same, and I cannot do as you have done; I cannot wait, because I have no hope to wait for. All I had is gone, and it will not return; he will not return. And I cannot live without him."

Angmeril did not point-out that Thranduil might well end up lost to them both, in the end; did not remind Legolas that there was no guarantee that he would be able to bring himself to leave Middle-earth, not even to find them again. She did not remind him that if Thranduil died on the other side of the Sea, he might well refuse the Call of Mandos and choose instead to stay among his trees and Fade there until he was nothing but a scrap of memory singing on the wind.

Perhaps, with her son half-Faded before her, she could not bear to voice the well-worn thought.

Instead she said, "I am sorry, Legolas. I am sorry that this is the world that was Sung for us; I am sorry that we did not have a choice in its making. I am sorry that there is nothing I can do to make it better."

Angmeril leaned up and pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Legolas could feel the heat of her fury for him burning in his mother's lips; could, for a moment, feel something other than the hollow cold that had sunk into his bones the day that Gimli's bones were sealed beneath his tomb and had been all that he had ever felt since—but then Angmeril drew away, dashing angry tears from her eyes, and stalked back up the shoreline on heavy, dragging feet.

Legolas stayed where he was. The cold waves lapped at his ankles, and his shadow stretched out long and dark and lonely on the white sands before him. Eventually he turned back around to face the sun again, and the empty waves that danced beneath its bitter golden rays.

The pitiless Sea was empty; the glitter of the sunlight on its peaks as false as the lights that had once lured travellers off the paths of Mirkwood and into death and shadow there. No ships came from the east; no balm came to soothe Legolas's weeping, sundered heart.

How was he supposed to learn to live like this? No, he coud not do it; he would not. Without Gimli, there was no life for him in the Undying Lands. Without Gimli, there was only death; the death that had already claimed Legolas when the other half of his heart died and left him weeping outside that dwarven tomb alone. He could not learn to live like this.

He would not.

Legolas fell to his knees in the cold surf and sank down low, his golden braids swirling like tarnished flotsam in the waves.

"Gimli!" he screamed, and only the white gulls answered.

[read the (happier) sequel here]

#whumptober2023 #no.2 #lyric #lotr #fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #suicidal ideation tw #this may be the bleakest thing i've ever written #but the sequel has a happy ending i promise #gimleaf #legolas #angmeril #my writing

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mrs-nubenueve · 2 years

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bokuaka fic recs

only one person asked for this, but that's enough for me! however, compiling this list has also given me the chance to locate fics i read and loved during quarantine but did not, for whatever reason, bookmark or otherwise save...

i will say that my past experiences with 'dead' fandoms has made me perhaps a little too forgiving of blips in characterization, but i genuinely enjoy/ed reading these gems

all recs are complete

hit-never-miss authors

norio

mocaw

mystictwirl

canon compliant

soft blue by graninlynch (g ∣ ~6k words). akaashi can draw well and bokuto finds out in an invasive way.

slow on the uptake by dalyeau (m ∣ ~1k words). akaashi realizes his boyfriend is hot. pwp but it's so beautifully written it doesn't feel that way. this author is very popular, too; however, i haven't read too many of their other works!

denouement by ftld (t ∣ ~9k words). akaashi's struggles with coming out to his parents about his established relationship with bokuto.

wisdom (perception) check by allicanseeispink (t ∣ ~12k words). an incredibly lovely piece wherein bokuto watches a movie and introspection occurs. this is part of a series that i've yet to read, but i read and understood this as a stand-alone fic. wonderful authorial voice. everyone should read it.

the strange music of your heart by caniculeo (t ∣ ~18k words). akaashi falls first. i must say, i love love love the fukurodani interactions in this one.

alternate universe

what a hoot by moonyfest (au - college/university & wrong number ∣ t ∣ ~2k words). delightful little chat fic.

red tattoo by choir (au - soulmates ∣ t ∣ ~2k words). soulmate-identifying marks but with a twist! platonic kuroaka and minor kurodai.

running, running, running by deusreks (au - archery club ∣ t ∣ ~4k words). a lovely get-together piece.

it's a miracle when our worlds collide by darlingwendy (au - soulmates ∣ nr ∣ ~6k words). oh nooo i sped past you on my way to work but you're my soulmate :((

first train home by marras (au - ghost & age changes ∣ t ∣ ~10k words). akaashi takes the train, and an apparition sits beside him. poignant but beautiful.

never bleed, never grow by sketchedsmiles (au - bodyswap ∣ g ∣ ~27k words). a glorious bokuaka & iwaoi body swap.

static by twinkrevali (au - robots & androids ∣ g ∣ ~8k words). i think about this fic way too much...bokuto is the engineer, and akaashi is the android. kuroken sequel and bokuroo prequel.

quiet by silvercistern (au - fairytale ∣ e ∣ ~41k words). as the author describes, "a meiji-era retelling of the fairytale the six swans." this writer is also very popular, as well as the story. but if you're into the fairytale/fantasy scene and haven't read this one, it's a delight.

right in the head by mysecretfanmoments (au - zombie apocalypse ∣ e ∣ ~52k words). bokuaka against zombies.

the hands we're given by lessonsfrommoths (au - zombie apocalypse ∣ m ∣ ~37k words). also bokuaka against zombies. this one becomes plot heavy and is very inclusive of other characters. it's part of a hq!! vs zombie universe/series, and there is a sequel to this specific piece that is ~70k words.

#ik norio is on everyone and their moms' rec list but that's just a testament to their greatness ok #i read a lot of aus bc i'm toxic and slice of life doesn't satisfy me :^)#i sure read a lot of zombie content for someone who can't stand zombies lmao #these aren't in any particular order—just things i had the fastest access to (immediate memory & screenshots)#if y'all are ever looking for fics just shamelessly stalk an author's (that you like obvis) bookmarks !!! just like me #bokuaka #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #ao3 #fic recommendation #there was a specific fic i really wanted to find but it evades me so i'll probably do a round 2 of these once i eventually find it #if any of the links are wrong pls tell me

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anxiousrowbot · 2 years

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The Disney Picturebook Scam, or How Disney Cheated My Library out of $30

So I was excited to read the second WALL-E picture book, Down to Earth, which appeared to be a sequel to the book Rouge Robots. I knew it was in the same awesome 2D art style because the final page of Rouge Robots was the same drawing as the cover of Down to Earth, which honestly seemed like a great way to lead onto the next title. (And plus, it shared the name of the Peter Gabriel song on the playlist). In addition, I’d read Rouge Robots as a kid and adored it.

As my local library app also has Rouge Robots, I re-read it first. The illustrations were just as good as I remembered if not better, with the robots looking like they had so much character.

I mean, just look at these designs!

They’re so vibrant and fun!

I was even somewhat hoping that Down to Earth was a sequel of sorts to the film. Perhaps it retold the credits scene with more info. The possibilities seemed endless!

So, anticipation high, I opened the first page.

Oo, they’ve got a new picture there instead of just repeating the cover image in Rouge Robots! This is brand-new! Weird choice of scene but so far so-

Hold up.

This looks familiar.

Hoping this wasn’t what I was fearing it was, I flicked to the next page. And the next. And every other page until I reached the back ad of the story.

Only to realise…I had been duped.

This wasn’t a sequel. It wasn’t even a prequel or a midquel.

Folks, Down to Earth (The picture book) is a reskin of Rouge Robots.

It’s the same story.

The same goddamn story.

With the only difference being the cover and synopsis.

To prove my point, here’s two screenshots from my library of the seperate books (I use Libby, but the same system works with Overdrive and presumably Sora if this was a school library instead of a public one)

By the way, no, there was no audiobook included with the story. Presumably it was something that didn’t translate well to Libby.

Now. To a degree, I understand updating the cover of a book to help freshen it up a bit (everyone does that. Heck, I do that myself with my Wattpad books!), but the part where Disney crossed the line here was when they changed the title without acknowledging that it was a reskin anywhere clearly. Presumably, they even have different catalogue entries on the local library system anyway, otherwise mine wouldn’t have bought two identical titles. Digital library copies are more expensive than consumer eBooks, and are actually a sort of license that wears out after a certain amount of people have borrowed the book. It can cost between three to five times more for a library eBook license than it does for a consumer license.

Prices tend to drop after a few years after release, but it’s possible that the re-release was counted as a new book by the system. I was unable to find a solid pricing on the eBook version of Rouge Robots and Down to Earth kept getting mixed up with the song, but I’d assume it’s like $10 USD, making the license range from $30 to $50.

And my country doesn’t use USD. We use NZD, which is too unstable to make a good calculation with but I think is around like 1.5 times as much?

I am all for digital borrowing. I don’t think I’ve read as much as I have ever since I downloaded Libby. But this is a ridiculously large increase from when they just had to pay the consumer price of the book beforehand. (Or even lower if they got it wholesale as opposed to through the same outlets we do).

And this is just more proof of how Disney will go to borderline false advertising to get an extra $10 from you and $30 from your already struggling library system. I adore Rouge Robots, but Disney’s business handling has me salty.

Sorry, @jeffyjeffy1023. I raised your hopes by saying there was a second book. Disney’s to blame, but I should have checked first.

On the bright side, I have a special book of Pixar concept art so I’ll have something new soon! There’s also a junior novelisation, a tiny kids book and more plushie photos to come! Just didn’t expect to find a scam on the first day with a WALL-E side blog.

All I have to say now is this:

#wall-e #rouge robots #disney #anti disney #i guess?#Disney gave me my childhood but man they suck sometimes #scam #duped #sorry for the rant

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blindrapture · 10 months

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okay I finished The Hobbit, finally

yeah there's a ton of charm in that book

takes a while to get going, and my favourite part is when Thorin is in the Mountain and changing to a cold king, that is a compelling bit of drama

the elves are also neat, but they're only neat to me now that I've read the Silmarillion and know their history; when I tried to read these books before reading that one, I was at a loss when trying to imagine, like, why I should give a shit, why I should believe the narrative's very overt "oh yeah the Elves are the Cool Guys, everyone agrees they are Cool." but now I agree they are cool! and compelling. the dwarves too.

cute book! neat adventure! Bilbo is better in the books than in the movies! I was pleasantly surprised, because I already liked him in the movies.

now that I have read the book and seen the movies, I can say, in my reasoned opinion, that I think the movies are darn good. they aren't so much an adaptation as they are a retelling, shifting the balance of focus from Book elements onto Movie elements, but I'm glad at the decisions the movies made! because, like, with the books, LotR is a sequel to the Hobbit! but with the movies, the Hobbit is a prequel to LotR! there is a difference there! the Hobbit movies are more about the LotR films than the Hobbit book is about the LotR book. the movies are more like Wagner's Ring opera in execution, a lot more, than the books. the movies are an operatic experience, it is entirely valid to view the movies as vehicles for the scores, with flashy theatrical imagery and concepts that are timed to the music. and the movies are perhaps best experienced a day at a time, much like the Ring saga!

..........I think the third Hobbit movie is the best one! first one is second place. second one is great the first time you watch it, tedious to rewatch. (I know all this because I recently got blu-rays of all three Extended Editions, and I watched Unexpected Journey on Day 1, then I watched Unexpected Journey again on Day 2, then Desolation of Smaug on Day 3, Desolation of Smaug again on Day 4, and Battle of Five Armies similarly got Days 5 and 6. I had already seen the non-extended versions before. Journey was kinda tedious on Day 1 but a riveting good time on Day 2. Smaug was tedious on both days. Five Armies, I was gripped both times.) this tier list also informs my big ol' reasoned opinion up there, as the third movie is very much the one that deviates most from the book, but instead it ends up as a freaking great End-Of-Trilogy movie.

what about the book? do I have detailed reasoned thoughts about the book? not really! it's a book for kids. what it did for the fantasy genre, I can never forgive. I have learned not to hold it against Tolkien, but dammit I will always be aware of it in the back of my mind. and I can enjoy his clear skill at writing pulp adventure prose, as his linguistic background allows him to weave it into a lovely little mythological England-AU-fanfic. but he was wrong about allegory. he probably went to the grave still wrong about it, and he has led generations of readers to follow him, all wrong about allegory. maybe the "allegory" he hated was a very specific kind that he had to put up with a lot in his time, but he didn't call it "a very specific kind of allegory," he just called it "allegory." and he was wrong to do that. because he was a brilliant writer of allegory, of the broadest not-specifically-retelling-Real-History-but-telling-of-Ideas-forming-a-Nation kind.

and I enjoy his books for that.

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oonajaeadira · 3 years

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Sunday Seven: October 3: Special Edition: Ezra.

I didn’t do as much reading this week as in others, but perhaps I needed a little comfort because I kept gravitating toward Ezra fics. He’s just such a great character and it’s no secret how much I love him. He’s got so much to him that his writers can easily swing from fluff to angst, from smut to darkness, from playful to weirdo. So here’s some of the ones I’ve enjoyed this week, along with a couple of old faves.

💖indicates love for soft 🔥indicates spicy stuff

Can’t Go Home Again by @mishasminion360 Holy shit this is a tear-jerker. Ezra's wife is sick and he'd do anything to save her, even if it means losing his heart. Mine cracked utterly in two reading this--word of warning, this one's gonna hurt. (As a tissue box hat trick, if you want to wring your heart dry, I will also recommend its sequel and prequel the just-as-devastating Your Love Is My Turning Page and What I Never Thought I’d Find. )

A Thread of Appropriate Reactions by @refinedpalette 🔥 There's a part of me that needed to put my red flags in the closet because I could only wish that meeting a man as weird as Ezra on public transport would be this hot in real life. BECAUSE IT CERTAINLY IS HERE. I didn't know I had a thing for public sex with a stranger so much until now...

Tricks (Or How Bee Girl Got Seduced Into A Life Of Crime) by @insomniamamma 💖 J always steals my heart when she writes Ezra, and this week's no exception. Especially since this one is set in her modern AU during Halloween and feels so grounded and real and warm. I won't give away the surprise, but Ezra and Cee's costumes broke me. The softness and found family and mischief all rolled up in this fic is just delicious and I want to live in it. I'm so glad it's a reader insert so I can.

Where Our Story Began by @marvel-and-mischief I'm a sucker for the stories where I get to see the man I love as a little boy, to see him fall in love the first time. Pair that up with our poor Ez right after his events on the Green Moon? Simple. Lovely.

untitled by @ohheyitsokay 💖 This is such a sweet, soft soulmates drabble, such a beautiful meeting for Ezra. Just the delight both of them carry...it made me so happy for him.

untitled by @writeforfandoms 💖 I recently answered a Tumblr meme that prompted users to put "I want" in the tags and then choose what came up. Mine was "i want a soft ezra tackling me into bed." That tag was in reaction this story, written by one of my favorites for my birfday this summer. It gave me the warms to revisit it, and I thought y'all should enjoy it too.

untitled by @songsformonkeys A tiny little ficlet that I keep coming back to because Hanna writes Ezra so lyrical and spirited and his reaction to the reader taking a peek at his naked torso is so spot on. He’s such a menace here. I hear that last line in my head and blush so hard...I just...I love him.

#sunday seven #prospect film #ezra prospect

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 3 years

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Hellfire

This is a prequel to Exercises in Self Control, going into the events leading up to Enji's arrival on Reader-chan's doorstep from his POV.

You don't need to have read Exercises in Self Control to enjoy this fic, but I recommend it!

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Endeavor x Reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: Enji is possessive and thirsty in this fic so bear that in mind before continuing. Some of Enji’s fantasies involve dub con

Sequel Piece: Exercises in Self Control

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

For as long as he can remember, Enji has had problems sleeping. He’s counted the ceiling tiles, counted sheep, counted hours. He’s helped himself to cups of tea, herbal and otherwise. He’s tried meditating, he’s tried ASMR, all to no avail.

It doesn’t strike him as out of the ordinary that he can’t sleep tonight either. He stares at the ceiling, eyes wide open, listening out for the wind in the trees outside. He put chimes in their branches on purpose; something to ground himself every time he closes his eyes.

Tonight he’s grounded by something else; the warm body sharing his bed. He lies flat on his back and doesn’t look, listening to your soft breaths.

Enji is a grown man, now twice married, but this is the first time anyone has shared his bed. In his first marriage, he and Rei slept in separate beds. He visited her only occasionally and never bothered to stay the night, making sure to leave the moment the deed was done. Tonight you’re the intruder and his immediate instinct is to tell you to leave.

He can tell you’re asleep from your steady breathing and he wonders how you got so relaxed. His own children never slept in his arms even as babies but here you are, not just an adult but one he stole away, sleeping so calmly that for a second even he believes you’re an ordinary husband and wife.

You’re not, of course; your first conversation was your wedding vows. You became husband and wife knowing little more than one another’s names.

Against his better judgement, he turns to look at you, admiring what details of your face he can make out through the darkness. He knows you’re beautiful without looking.

Your beauty, in fact, was one of the first things he noticed about you and he remembers that moment with perfect clarity.

Even before Rei’s admittance into a hospital, it had been years since he felt welcome in his own home. It fell silent whenever he returned, his childrens’ laughter dying the moment he was in sight. He had always told himself it didn’t bother him; that they would understand when they were older. Everything he did, however cruel, was for their benefit in the long term.

Touya’s death was the first time he questioned it. Rei’s hospitalisation only drove the point home. For the first time in his life, he saw his house for what it truly was: misery and trauma under several layers of paint.

He couldn’t stand being there for more than a few hours, sitting alone in the dark with nothing to do but think. At first he stayed at the office for longer, taking on extra jobs and filing away paperwork long before it was due. It was a temporary solution and one that backfired spectacularly. He was greeted at work one day by smiling interns, who enthusiastically pointed out the piles of paperwork they had completed in his absence. They told him they’d done it so he could spend more time with his family and didn’t understand why he reacted with anger.

Enji realised then that he needed an alternative hiding place; somewhere no one knew him and he could spend the night alone.

He went from one bar to another, never settling down in one for too long. His reputation was crucial to his career and he didn’t want to risk being recognised.

It was with a great deal of reluctance that he finally arrived at a hostess bar. The owner was well versed in discretion and offered him his own table towards the back, as well as his pick of any of the hostesses. Enji didn’t bother to absorb any of their names or memorise their faces. Instead he asked for the owner himself to tend to him. He had a vested interest in his good graces and was therefore less inclined to gossip.

It became his routine for the next few months. Enji would finish up at the office and head straight for The White Rabbit , simmering in the corner as he sipped his drink. He stayed there until the early hours, returning to the estate once everyone else had already gone to bed and leaving for the office before they woke up.

It seems strange to him now. He used to be a regular, but he hasn’t been since he married you.

He remembers your first encounter far more clearly than you do. As far as you are concerned, your first meeting was in your home, the day he bought you from your father.

You couldn’t be more wrong, of course. He’s known you far longer than that.

Enji spent that much time at the bar that he came to know the regulars. He knew which men were married and booked hostesses to escape their wives. He knew which customers worked long hours in an office cubicle and came to the bar to let loose. He knew which ones were heroes as well and just as incognito as he was.

Among all of these customers was a familiar gaggle of six businessmen who very often dropped in after work. They were boisterous and very often blind drunk, booking multiple hostesses to sing karaoke with them.

One night in particular, you attended their table, carrying over a tray of crimson strawberry daiquiris. Your specialty, he found out later.

The businessmen were louder than usual that night and when Enji glanced over at them, it was with disapproval. He quickly became distracted, though, by something else entirely. You were setting a tray of drinks on their table, laughing and smiling as you tended to each customer.

Perhaps it was the backless dress you had on, showing off smooth, unblemished skin that reminded him of undisturbed snow and still waters. Maybe it was the coquettish way you fluttered your eyelashes as you spoke to them, giggling at their bawdy jokes and expertly dodging any of their attempts to take you by the wrist. Perhaps it was the way you left them hanging.

In any case, the next drink he ordered was a strawberry daiquiri and he relished the tangy sweetness, all while thinking of your lips.

That night, for the first time in many years, Enji fell into a deep slumber and deeper dreams. He dreamed about bending you over his desk, holding one arm behind your back and slamming into you so forcefully that you squealed. Your cunt fluttered every time his hips hit your ass, betraying how many times you had unravelled around his girth.

“Enji,” you whined, “Enji please .”

He slapped you across the ass at that, relishing the way you squealed in shock. He let go of your arm, eying the red marks he had left on your skin.

“It’s what you deserve,” he said in his dream, holding onto your hips and driving his cock in deep, so deep that you cried out and gripped the desk. He came so hard that it painted your insides and left him groaning in pleasure. He held you in place as his cock twitched and filled you with his seed, letting go only to shove his fingers deep into you to stop any drops from escaping.

“Enji,” you said, quivering.

He woke seconds later, pleasure running through him and semen covering his sheets. He cursed and threw himself out of bed, spitting obscenities as he rinsed his body clean.

For a moment, just a moment, he hated you. He was filthy, all because of you and your backless dress and long eyelashes.

You’re sleeping with your back to him tonight and he draws back the covers to admire it. He takes in your naked shoulder blades; the way the moonlight hits the curve of your spine. Not so long ago this view was enough to drive him mad.

The dream left an imprint, after all. He thought about it when he brushed his teeth, patrolled the streets, got into the bathtub at night.

He continued to attend the bar, telling himself it was because he liked the atmosphere and not because he hoped to catch another glimpse of your innocent smile.

He told himself he didn’t want you.

He didn’t want to defile you and fuck you senseless.

He didn’t want to fill your belly with yet more Todorokis.

You were a distraction and one he needed to be free of. He was Endeavor, the flame hero, the world’s number two. He couldn’t afford to fall into such debased habits as the businessmen who had tried to paw you. He was better than that, better than them and certainly better than you.

Every night he sipped strawberry daiquiris and masturbated furiously when he got home, fantasising about you in all manner of scenarios, each filthier than the last. He took photos of you as you worked and scrolled through them when he got home. He filmed you at the bar and watched it over and over, knowing what he was doing was wrong.

Heroes didn’t do this. He should have been protecting you from such terrible invasions of privacy, not enabling himself. Something about you, though, prickled at his skin. Something about the backless dresses you sometimes wore and the careful way you mixed drinks. He knew desire all too well, but never for a person. It was intoxicating; addictive. You were untouched and unspoiled and it drew him to you like a moth to a flame. He wanted to spend the rest of his life as relaxed as when he came all over his fingers, before reality sank back in and he remembered the ghosts lurking in every corner of his home.

One night, desperate to be free of you, he ventured into a nightclub and took a girl into the bathroom, pushing her down onto her knees in front of him and holding her in place to fuck her mouth. She had the same colour hair as you and that was why he chose her, pretending you were the one gagging on his cock. He thought it would help him; that once he got a fix he would stop thinking about you. Ultimately, it only made matters worse. The girl in the bathroom wasn’t you and every time he looked down at her he came crashing down to earth. He wondered what you would think of him if you knew what he had done.

It took him ages to cum that night, holding the girl’s head in place as it shot down her throat. She slumped over when he let her go, choking on semen and wiping her mouth even as he dropped notes down to the floor. Just like when he finished alone, Enji felt disgusted, tucking himself away and leaving the girl without bothering to express his gratitude.

He went to the White Rabbit straight afterwards, paying for you to stay at the bar and ordering his usual daiquiri. He expected to feel different, only to curse his own stupidity for ever thinking the woman in the nightclub could have compared.

He splashed out on bracelets, earrings and more, eager for you to wear them. The thought of them touching your body where he couldn’t made his mouth water, even though you never wore them. The only jewellery you ever wore was a set of plain earrings. Your mother’s, he found out later.

Meanwhile, his dreams only grew more obscene.

He dreamed of rescuing you from villains and insisting you spread your legs in exchange. He dreamed of hiring you as one of his house staff, permitted only to serve him without clothes. He dreamed of sitting you down on your knees before him and covering your face in cum.

He was a man possessed, desperate for any sight of you. The realisation came to him slowly: he didn’t only want to corrupt and break you anymore. He wanted you to desire him as he desired you. Perhaps even more.

He wanted you to want him, wanted you to let him touch you.

Every time he sat down in the bar, he almost managed to convince himself that your circumstances were different; that he truly was the honourable man the world believed him to be. He almost believed that his touches wouldn’t ruin you.

He was desperate and not only to be fucked, though refused to acknowledge it.

He told himself it was no weakness on his part, no dent in his armour. He wasn’t as vile or depraved as the businessmen who tried to paw you on a near daily basis.

He begged the owner of the White Rabbit to let him spend the night with you, begged him to leave the pair of you alone. He was quite convinced that he wouldn’t want you anymore the moment he had you in his arms. He’d find an imperfection on your body that would shatter the illusion.

The owner, being a shrewd businessman, refused him every time.

Enji isn’t proud of how cruel he became in his desperation. It wasn’t hard to break the owner into handing over your name, nor to track you down to your home address. It was all too easy to learn of your father’s gambling problems and difficult financial situation.

He was on your doorstep before he knew it, happy to pay any price to keep you under his roof, unspoiled and protected from harm. He was an honourable man, he told himself. He could keep his hands to himself.

It was what you deserved, after all.

You shiver next to him and he drags the covers back over your body, considering that you are the only person he has ever wanted and the only one to want him in return. He brought you into his home, yes, but you’re the one who sought him out. You’re the one who led him to the bedroom and shed your clothes willingly. He’s almost certainly spoiled your body, but if anything that makes him want you more.

He’s addicted to every inch of you: the feeling of being buried within you, the scent of your hair as he holds you close. You’re the only person he’s ever fucked for pleasure and he hasn’t been able to resist ever since. Even now that you’re asleep, he’s desperate for a fix. He feels starved of oxygen and it’s keeping him awake.

Not long ago, he would have prodded you awake and told you to spread your legs. Now, though, he rolls over onto his side so he no longer faces you, content to listen to your gentle breathing instead.

He curses under his breath as you begin to stir and squeezes his eyes shut, laying perfectly still as you yawn and turn over onto your own side to make yourself comfortable. His skin still prickles when you touch him, especially as you drape an arm around his chest and plant kisses on his shoulder.

“Enji,” you whisper, “are you awake?”

He doesn’t answer and you smile before burying your face in the back of his neck, the combined heat of your bodies lulling both of you to sleep.

He has no need of wind chimes to ground him anymore.

#enji todoroki #todoroki enji #endeavor x reader #endeavor #bnha endeavor

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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My Heart is On My Sleeve and my Fics are on AO3

AO3 | Honesty Hour | Logan’s Master Schedule | Art

Current Stories:

💙💚Meus ex Machina: Intrulogical Superpower AU. Chapter 15, From This Day Forth, is now up! Platonic Dukeceit bonus companion story: Progression (complete)

💚🩵Villains Aren't Born. They're Made.: Intruality ancient deity AU

🩵💙Where the Air is Sweet: a month of short and sweet Logicality fluff

Increasingly Inaccurately Named Coming Soon List:

Thrall - The conclusion of the vampire/werewolf Beside Me universe, takes place immediately after Ours and Dee

Just Like Magic - Endgame QPP Mage Loceit and more

Echoes of Our Future - Platonic (?) Intrulogical, canon(ish)verse, part of Echoes of the Past October writing event

Recently Completed Stories:

Mise Out of Place: The Patton and Remus Cooking Show we knew we all wanted. Keep the fire extinguisher handy, Virge.

Decoherence: Intrulogical human AU for @tss-storytime

A Light in the Darkness - Magical AU, Logan-centric, Will o' the wisps

Ours, a Royality Week story set in the same universe as Beside Me, Dee, and the upcoming Thrall.

The Uses of Adversity - Logince butterfly story from the Happily Ever After universe in which Janus met Remus at Jack's party. He never walked home alone and never became friends with Logan.

Overruled - Butterfly story from the Happily Ever After universe in which Logan never met Kelly. He does, however, meet Janus and Remus

Recent One-shots:

You'll Ruin the Surprise - (Good Omens)

Time Travelers Point and Laugh at Archeologists - Intruanalogical "modern" magic AU

Lucas Is a Part of You That Loves You - canonverse Orange!side

A Winter's Tale- Intrulogical human AU

Cold Hands, Warm Heart - Remy/Janus canonverse fluff

The Tutor, Intrulogical high school AU

Recent multi-chap fics:

French Kiss: Tale of the Revolution - Dukeceit. What happens when a revolutionary spy falls in love with the future King of France? What happens when Prince Remus loves him back

Arizona's Journal - Select entries from Arizona Tate's journal while Remus worked in Copenhagen. Takes place between And I Feel Fine and Happily Every After

Everyone Leaves - Canonverse collab. with @lost-in-thought-20

Do Androids Dream of Electric Jam? - Intrulogical, Roceit, Future Dystopia

Variations on a Sin - Intrulogical Week story, prequel to Play Us a Song

Just Like Magic - Magic AU, platonic Loceit (WIP)

Revisions, A New Year Old Tropes Event Story

Out of the Machine, Superheroes, Villains, and Vigilantes

Dee - Sequel to Beside Me

Punks, Poets, Parents Human AU, punk!Remus

Smoke, Snakes, and Soulmates - collab. with @typically-untypical, @vexelore, and @thecrowslullaby for @treeni

A Little Bit of Love (Wouldn’t Do Us Any Harm) - part of the Side by Side in the Mindscape canon-ish series (Masterpost)

Matchr, the final story in the History | Matchr series

Play Us A Song (Human AU, Logince, past Intrulogical) - [ AO3 ]

Side by Side in the Mindscape - Includes Shackled, Servatis (a) Curiositas (Saving Curiosity), Intrusive Truths, To the First and the Last , and entire Overture - Canon-ish Sanders Sides Fan Fic, Post-POF/Post WTIT ❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷

The Happily Ever After/Logan, Janus, Roman, Remus series

Happily Ever After (T)- Logan Sanders thought he had secured a fairy tale ending when he married Kelly Croft, mother to his first child. Perhaps Logan should have spent less time in the non-fiction sections and more time reading actual fairy tales. (2019 - 2021)

Objections (M)- Janus and Logan meet in law school. Logan and Roman meet. Janus and Roman meet. Janus and Remus meet. Buckle up, it's a bumpy ride. (2001 - 2003)

And I Feel Fine (T)- 12/21/12 was supposed to be the end of the world. Roman and Remus Prince, Janus Pater, and Logan Croft will soon find out what this year has in store for them. (2012)

What Might Have Been (M) - The butterfly effect gets all the press, those tiny little changes that ripple through time. It’s easy to forget that the big decisions matter, too. (2021 - 2023)

Other Series

Play Us A Song (Human AU, Logince, past Intrulogical) - [ AO3 ]

Beside Me (Vampire AU, Dukexiety, ...?) - [ AO3 ]

History | Matchr (Human AU, future Intrulogical, Roceit, past Dukeceit), including Matchr, the final story in the series

Butterfly Stories - Overruled (Alternate to Objections) (WIP)

Remy & Emile - Happily’s Remile needed their own fic

Shorts and One-Shots, Event Series

Happily Ever After Minis (Series) - Intrulogical and Roceit, post Happily Ever After and/or post Happily Ever After/WMHB

Blink and You’ll Miss It - Nicomas/Karrot Kings

Analogical Week 2021 Series - Some fluffy platonic Analogical

May Flowers Event 2021 - Fluffy & angsty ship stories (WIP)

Holiday Stories

3.14159265 ... - Pie-based Pi Day Celebration with a fluffy crust

The Sides Celebrate Hanukkah - platonic DRLAMPT

Fear Response - Halloween exchange fic, rated G, shapeshifter AU

Anything - Halloween exchange fic, rated M, human/magic AU

Doctor Who/Sanders Sides Crossovers

The Best of Humanity -The Doctor must find a way to save humanity from its greatest threat. Hint: humanity’s greatest threat isn’t off-planet. #you dear sir are a timelord

More Time With You - (WIP) - A soulmate crossover AU between Sanders Sides and Doctor Who. Yes, that escalated quickly. Sides are Souls.

Run - The Heart Breaker I Can’t Make Myself Delete: This was originally meant to be the last chapter of More Time With You

Some of my favorite stories from the series that I like to call out:

Rain - Intrulogical, post Happily Ever After/WMHB

A Thousand Years and a Thousand Scars - Intrulogical, post Happily Ever After (Angst & Fluff)

Morning Coffee and Kisses - Intrulogical, post Happily Ever After/WMHB

Arizona's Journal (WIP)

This link is a little finicky: Tumblr Archive

Side Blogs

(As in, my other Tumblrs, not blogs for the Sides but OML don't get me started...) I've hit max links, so just the names.

edupunkbitch - (vent blog. i swear, rouse the rabble, whine, rant, and complain)

intrulogialweek - my passion :D

intrualityweek - the passion I didn't know I had

laboratorysoundsystem - Logan's lab has a sound system that plays Spotify near non-stop

eduwrites - nothing there yet... working on it

loganslaboratory - a place for my infrequent visual art experiments

saviorofdandysuits - Good Omens side blog

doctorthembo - Doctor Who side blog

captains-scribe - Our Flag Means Death side blog

#fanfic #i've got room in my hearts for many fandoms and so do my fics #sanders sides #doctor who #intrulogical #intruality #logicality #moceit #intruloceit #roceit #remile #logince #analogical #❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷#i say both but I've got stories for three fandoms in here :D #colored text

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ariainstars · 4 years

Text

Thank You, Disney Lucasfilm… For Destroying My Dreams

Warning: longer post.

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

So… I watched The Rise of Skywalker on Disney+ a few weeks ago. Again.

Sigh.

I guess it has its good sides. But professional critics tend to dislike it and even the general audience doesn’t go crazy for it. I wonder why?

The Fantasy

When his saga became a groundbreaking pop phenomenon in the 1970es, George Lucas reportedly said that he wanted to tell fairy tales again in world that no longer seemed to offer young people a chance to grow up with them. The fact that his saga was met with such unabashed, international enthusiasm proves that he was right: people long for fairy tales no matter how old they are and what culture they belong to.

“Young people today don’t have a fantasy life anymore, not the way we did… All they’ve got is Kojak and Dirty Harry. All the films they see are movies of disasters and insecurity and realistic violence.” (George Lucas)

I’ve been a Star Wars fan for more than thirty years. I love the Original Trilogy but honestly it did not make me dream much, perhaps because when I saw it the trilogy was already complete. The Prequel Trilogy also did not inspire my fantasy.

The Last Jedi accomplished something that no TV show, book or film had managed in years: it made me dream. The richness of colorful characters, multifaceted themes, unexpected developments, intriguing relationships was something I had not come across in a long time: it fascinated me. I felt like a giddy teenager reading up meta’s, writing my own and imagining all sorts of beautiful endings for the saga for almost two years.

So if there’s something The Rise of Skywalker can pride itself on for me, it’s that it crushed almost every dream I had about it. The few things I had figured out – Rey’s fall to the Dark, Ben Solo’s redemption, the connection between them - did not even make me happy because they were tainted by the flatness of the storytelling reducing the Force to a superpower again (like the general audience seems to believe it is), and its deliberate ignoring of almost all messages of The Last Jedi.

Many fans of the Original Trilogy also were disillusioned by the saga over the decades and ranted at the studios for “destroying their childhood”. Now we, the fans of the sequels and in particular of The Last Jedi, are in the same situation… but the thought doesn’t make the pill much easier to swallow. What grates on my nerves is the feeling that someone trampled on my just newly found dreams like a naughty child kicking a doll’s house apart. Why give us something to dream of in the first place, then? To a certain extent I can understand that many fans would angrily assume that Disney Lucasfilm made the Sequel Trilogy for the purpose of destroying their idea of the saga. The point is that they had their happy ending, while every dream the fans of the Sequel Trilogy may have had was shattered with this unexpectedly flat and hollow final note.

I know many fans who dislike the Prequel Trilogy heartily. I also prefer the Original Trilogy, but I find the prequels all right in their own way, also since I gave them some thought. However, it can’t be denied that they lack the magic spark which made the Original Trilogy so special. Which makes sense since they are not a fairy tale but ultimately a tragedy, but in my opinion it’s the one of the main reasons why the Prequel Trilogy never was quite so successful, or so beloved.

Same goes for Rogue One, Solo, or Clone Wars. They’re ok in their way, but not magical.

The sequel trilogy started quite satisfyingly with The Force Awakens, but for me, the actual bomb dropped with The Last Jedi. Reason? It was a magical story. It had the spark again that I had missed in the new Star Wars stories for decades! And it was packed full of beautiful messages and promises.

The Force is not a superpower belonging solely to the Jedi Anyone can be a hero. Even the greatest heroes can fail, but they will still be heroes. Hope is like the sun: if you only believe in it when you see it you’ll never make it through the night. Failure is the greatest teacher. It’s more important to save the light than to seem a hero. No one is never truly gone. War is only a machine. Dark Side and Light Side can be unbeatable if they are allies. Save what you love instead of destroying what you hate.

Naively, I assumed the trilogy would continue and end in that same magical way. And then came The Rise of Skywalker… which looks and feels like a Marvel superhero story at best and an over-long videogame at worst.

Chekov’s Gun

“Remove everything that has no relevance to the story. If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.”

(Anton Chekov, 1860 - 1904)

If you show an important looking prop and don’t put it to use, it leaves the audience feeling baffled. There is a huge difference between a story’s setup, and the audience’s feeling of entitlement. E.g. many viewers expected Luke to jump right back into the fray in Episode VIII, because that’s what a hero does, isn’t it? The cavalry comes and saves the day. And instead, we met a disillusioned elderly hermit who is tired of the ways of the Jedi. But there was no actual reason for disappointment: in Episode VII it was very clearly said (through Han, his best friend) that Luke had gone into exile on purpose, feeling responsible for his failure in teaching a new generation of Jedi. It would have been more than stupid to show him as an all-powerful and all-knowing man who kills the bad guys. Sorry but who expected that was a victim to his own prejudice.

A promise left unfulfilled is a different story. The Last Jedi set up a lot of promises that didn’t come true in The Rise of Skywalker: Balance as announced by the Jedi temple mosaic, a new Jedi Order hinted at by Luke on Crait, a good ending for Ben and Rey set up by the hand-touching scene which was opposite to Anakin’s and Padmés wedding scene. Many fans were annoyed about the Canto Bight sequence. I liked it because it felt like the set-up for a lot of important stuff: partnership between Finn and Rose whom we see working together excellently, freedom for the enslaved children (one of whom is Force-sensitive), DJ and Rose expressing what makes wars in general foolish and beside the point. So if we, the fans of Episode VIII, now feel angry and let down, I daresay it’s not due to entitlement. We were announced magical outcomes and not just pew-pew.

The Star Wars saga never repeated itself but always developed and enlarged its themes, so it was to be expected that delving deeper, uncomfortable truths would come out: wars don’t start out of nowhere, and they don’t flare up and continue for decades for the same reason. In order to find Balance, the Jedi’s and the Skywalker family’s myths needed to be dismantled. Which is not necessarily bad as long it is explained how things came to this, and a better alternative is offered. The prequels explained the old political order and the beginnings of the Skywalker family, and announced that the next generation would do better. The sequels hardly explained anything about the 30 years that passed since our heroes won the battle against the Empire, and while The Last Jedi hinted at the future a lot, The Rise of Skywalker seemed to make a point of ignoring all of it.

The Skywalker Family Is Obliterated. Why?

Luke was proven right that his nephew would mean the end of everything he loved. The lineage of the Chosen One is gone. His grandson had begun where Vader had ended - tormented, pale and with sad eyes - and he met the same fate. Luke, Han, Leia, all sacrificed themselves to bring Ben Solo back for nothing. Him being the reincarnation of the Chosen One and getting a new chance should have been meaningful for all of them; instead, he literally left the scepter to Rey who did nothing to deserve it: merely because she killed the Bad Guy does not mean she will do a better job than the family whose name and legacy she proudly takes over.

I do hope there was a good reason if the sequels did not tell “The New Adventures of Luke, Leia and Han” and instead showed us a broken family on the eve of its wipeout. It would have been much easier, and more fun for the audience, to bring the trio back again after a few years and pick up where they had left. Instead we had to watch their son, nephew and heir go his grandfather’s way - born with huge power, branded as Meant to Be Dangerous from the start, tried his best to be a Jedi although he wanted to be a pilot, never felt accepted, abandoned in the moment of his greatest need, went to his abuser because he was the only one to turn to, became a criminal, his own family (in Anakin’s case: Obi-Wan and Yoda) trained the person who was closest to him to kill him, sacrificed himself for this person and died. And in his case, it’s particularly frustrating because Kylo Ren wasn’t half as impressive a villain as Vader, and Ben Solo had a very limited time of heroism and personal fulfilment, contrarily to Anakin when he was young.

The impact of The Rise of Skywalker was traumatic for some viewers. I know of adolescents and adults, victims of family abandonment and abuse, who identified with Ben: they were told that you can never be more than the sum of your abuse and abandonment, and that they’re replaceable if they’re not “good”. Children identifying with Rey were told that their parents might sell them away for “protection”. Rey was not conflicted, she had a few doubts but overall, she was cool about everything she did, so she got everything on a silver platter; that’s why as a viewer, after a while you stopped caring for her. Her antagonist was doomed from birth because he dared to question the choices other people made for him. It seems that in the Star Wars universe, you can only “rise” if you’re either a criminal but cool because you’ve always got a bucket over your head (Vader / the Mandalorian) or are a saint-like figure (Luke / Rey).

One of Obi-Wan’s first actions in A New Hope is cutting off someone’s arm who was only annoying him; Han Solo, ditto. These were no acts of self-defense. The Mandalorian is an outlaw. Yet they are highly popular. Why? Because they always keep their cool, so anything they do seems justified. Young Anakin was hated, Jake Lloyd and Hayden Christensen attacked for his portrayal. For the same reason many fans feel that Luke is the least important of the original trio although basically the Original Trilogy is his story: it seems the general audience hates nothing more than emotionality in a guy. They want James Bond, Batman or Indiana Jones as the lead. Padmé loved Anakin because she always saw the good little boy he once was in him; his attempts at impressing her with his flirting or his masculinity failed. Kylo tried to impress Rey with his knowledge and power, but she fled from him - she wanted the gentle, emphatic young man who had listened to her when she felt alone. Good message. But both died miserably, and Ben didn’t even get anything but a kiss. Realizing that his “not being as strong as Darth Vader” might actually be a strength of its own would have meant much more.

The heroes of the Original Trilogy had their adventures together and their happy ending; the heroes of the Prequel Trilogy also had good times and accomplishments in their youth, before everything went awry. Rey, Finn and Poe feel like their friendship hardly got started; Rose was almost obliterated from the narrative; and Ben Solo seems to have had only one happy moment in his entire life. Of course it’s terrible that he committed patricide (even if it was under coercion), but Anakin / Vader himself had two happy endings in the Prequel Trilogy before he became the monster we know so well. Not to mention Clone Wars, where he has heroic moments unnumbered.

The Skywalker family is obliterated without Balance in the Force, and the young woman who inherited all doesn’t seem to have learned any lesson from all this. The Original Trilogy became a part of pop culture among other things because its ending was satisfying. We can hardly be expected to be satisfied with an ending where our heroes are all dead and the heir of their worst enemy takes over. What good was the happy ending of the Original Trilogy for if they didn’t learn enough from their misadventures to learn how to protect one single person - their son and nephew, their future?

For a long time, I also thought that the saga was about Good vs. Evil. Watching the prequels again, I came to the conclusion that it is rather about Love vs. War. And now, considering as a whole, I believe it to be essentially Jedi against Skywalker. The ending, as it is now, says that both fractions lost: they annihilated one another, leaving a third party in charge, who believes to be both but actually knows very little about them.

Star Wars and Morality

After 9 films and 42 years, it still is not possible to make the general audience accept that it is wrong to divide people between Good and Evil in the first place. The massive rejection of both prequels and sequels, which have moral grey zones galore, shows it.

It is also not possible without being accused of actual blasphemy in the same fandom, to say the plain truth that no Skywalker ever was a Jedi at heart. As their name says, they’re pilots. Luke was the last and strongest of all Jedi because he always was first and foremost himself. Anakin was crushed by the Jedi’s attempts to stifle his feelings. His grandson, too. A Force-sensitive person ought to have the choice whether they want to be a Jedi or not; they ought not to be taught to suppress their emotions and live only on duty, without really caring for other people; and they ought to grow up feeling in a safe and loving environment, not torn away from their families in infancy, indoctrinated and provided with a light sabre (a deadly weapon) while they’re still small. A Jedi order composed of child soldiers or know-it-all’s does not really help anybody.

The original Star Wars saga was about love and friendship; although many viewers did not want to understand that message. The prequels portrayed the Jedi as detached and arrogant and Anakin Skywalker sympathetically, a huge disappointment for who only accepts stories of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. The Last Jedi was so hated that The Rise of Skywalker backpedaled: sorry, of course you’re right, here you have your “hero who knows everything better and fixes everything for you on a silver platter”. The embarrassing antihero, who saves the girl who was the only person showing him some human compassion, can die miserably in the process and is not even mourned.

Honestly: I was doubtful whether it would be adequate to give Ben Solo a happy ending after the patricide. I guess letting him die was the easiest way out for the authors to escape censorship. (I even wrote this in a review on amazon about The Last Jedi, before I delved deeper into the saga’s themes.) The messages we got now are even worse.

Kylo Ren / Ben Solo

A parent can replace a child if they’re not the way they expect them to be. A victim of lifelong psychical and physical abuse can only find escape in death, whether he damns or redeems himself. An introspective, sensitive young man is a loser no matter how hard he tries either way. A whole family can sacrifice itself to save their heir, he dies anyway.

Rey

Self-righteousness is acceptable as long as you find a scapegoat for your own failings. Overconfidence justifies anything you do. You can’t carve your way as a female child of “nobodies”, you have to descend from someone male and powerful even if that someone is the devil incarnate. You are a “strong female” if you choose to be lonely; you need neither a partner nor friends.

In General

Star Wars is not about individual choices, loyalty, friendship and love, it is a classic Western story with a lonesome cowboy (in this case: cowgirl) at its centre. Satisfied?

The father-son-relationship between Vader and Luke mirrors the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, saying that whoever we may want to kill is, in truth, our kin, which makes a clear separation in Good and Evil impossible. The “I am your father” scene is so infamous by now that even non-fans are aware of it; but this relationship between evil guy and good guy, as well as the plot turns where the villain saves the hero and that the hero discards his weapon are looked upon rather as weird narrative quirks instead of a moral.

In an action movie fan, things are simple: good guy vs. bad guy, the good guy (e.g. James Bond may be a murderer and a misogynist, but that’s ok because he’s cool about it) kills the bad guy, ka-boom, end of story. But Star Wars is a parable, an ambitious project told over decades of cinema, and a multilayered story with recurring themes.

A fairy tale ought to have a moral. The moral of both Original Trilogy and Prequel Trilogy was compassionate love - choose it and you can end a raging conflict, reject it and you will cause it. What was the moral of the Sequel Trilogy? You can be the offspring of the galaxy’s worst terror and display a similar attitude, but pose as a Jedi and kill unnecessarily, and it’s all right; descend from Darth Vader (who himself was a victim long before he became a culprit) and whether you try to become a Jedi trained by Luke Skywalker or a Sith trained by his worst enemy, you will end badly?

Both original and prequel trilogy often showed “good” people making bad choices and the “bad ones” making the right choices. To ensure lasting peace, no Force user ought to be believe that he must choose one side and then stick to it for the rest of his life: both sides need one another. The prequels took 3 films to convey this message, though not saying so openly. The Last Jedi said it out clearly - and the authors almost had their heads ripped off by affronted fans, resulting in The Rise of Skywalker’s fan service. It’s not like Luke, Han and Leia were less heroic in the Sequel Trilogy, on the contrary, they gave everything they had to their respective cause. They were not united, and they were more human than they had once been. Apparently, that’s an affront.

The Jedi are no perfect heroes and know-it-all’s and they never were, the facts are there for everyone to see. Padmé went alone and pregnant to get her husband out of Mustafar - and she almost succeeded - although she knew what he had done and that he was perfectly capable of it (he had told her of the Tusken village massacre himself) because she still saw the good little boy he had been in him; Obi-Wan left him amputated and burning in the lava, although he had raised Anakin like a small brother and the latter had repeatedly saved his life. But Padmé was not a Jedi, so I guess she still had some human decency. Neither Obi-Wan nor Yoda lifted a finger for the oppressed populations of the galaxy during the Empire, waiting instead for Anakin’s son to grow up so they could trick him into committing patricide. Neither Luke nor Leia did anything for their own son and nephew while he became the scourge of the galaxy, damning his soul by committing crime after crime. On Exegol, Rey heard the voices of all Jedi encouraging her to fight Palpatine to death. After that, they left her to die alone, and the alleged “bad guy”, who had already saved her soul from giving in to Palpatine’s lures, had to save her life by giving her his own. The Jedi merely know that “their side” has to win, no matter the cost for anyone’s life, sanity, integrity or happiness.

Excuse me, these are simple facts. How anyone can still believe that the Jedi were super-powerful heroes who always win or all-knowing wizards who are always right is beyond me. Luke, the last and strongest of them, like a bright flickering of light before the ultimate end, showed us that the best of men can fail. There is nothing wrong with that in itself. But it is wrong and utterly frustrating when all of the failure never leads to anything better. If Rey means to rebuild the Jedi order to something better than it was, there was no hint at that whatsoever.

And What Now?

The Last Jedi hit theatres only 2 years before The Rise of Skywalker, and I can’t imagine that the responsible authors all have forgotten how to make competent work in the meantime; more so considering that Solo or The Mandalorian are solid work. Episode IX is thematically so painfully flat it seems like they wanted us to give up on the saga on purpose. The last instalment of a 42-year-old saga ought to have been the best and most meaningful. I had heard already decades ago that the saga was supposed to have 9 chapters, so I was not among who protested against the sequels thinking that they had been thought up to make what had come before invalid. I naively assumed a larger purpose. But Episode IX only seems to prove these critics perfectly right.

The last of the flesh and blood of the Chosen One is dead without having “finished what his grandfather started”?

Still no Balance in the Force?

And worst of all, Palpatine’s granddaughter taking over, having proven repeatedly that she is not suited for the task?

Sorry, this “ending” is absurd. I have read fanfiction that was better written and more interesting. And, most of all, less depressing. I was counting on a conclusion that showed that the Force has all colours and nuances, and that it’s not limited to the black-and-white view “we against them”. That’s the ending all of us fans would have deserved, instead of catering the daddy issues of the part of the audience who doesn’t want stories other than those of the “lonesome cowboy” kind. I myself grew up on Japanese anime, maybe that’s one of the reasons why I can’t stand guys like James Bond or Batman and why I think you don’t need “a great hero who fixes the situation” but that group spirit and communication are way more important.

It was absolutely unexpected that Disney, the production company whose trademark are happy endings and family stories, would end this beloved and successful saga after almost half a century on such a hollow note. Why tell first a beautiful fairy tale and then leave the audience on a hook for 35 years to continue first with a tragedy (which at least was expected) and then with another (unexpected one)? And this story is supposed to be for children? Like children would understand all of the subtext, and love sad, cautionary tales. Children, as well as the general audience, first of all want to be entertained! No one wants to watch the legendary Skywalker family be obliterated and a Palpatine take over. The sequels were no fun anymore; we’ve been left with another open ending and hardly an explanation about what happened in the 30 years in between. If you want to tell a cautionary tale, you should better warn the general audience beforehand.

The Original Trilogy is so good because it’s entertaining and offers room for thought for who wants to think about its deeper themes, and also leaves enough space for dreams. Same goes for the first two films of the Sequel Trilogy; but precisely the last, which should have wrapped up the saga, leaves us with a bitter aftertaste and dozens of questions marks.

We as the audience believe that a story, despite the tragic things that happen, must go somewhere; we get invested into the characters, we root for them, we want to see them happy in the end. (The authors of series like Girls, How I Met Your Mother or Game of Thrones ought to be reminded of that, too.) I was in contact with children and teenagers saying that the Sequel Trilogy are “boring”; and many, children or adults, who were devastated by its concluson. There is a difference between wanting to tell a cautionary tale and playing the audience for fools. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. Who watches a family or fantasy story or a romantic / comedic sitcom wants to escape into another world, not to be hit over his head with a mirror to his own failings, and the ones of the society he’s living in. Messages are all right, but they ought not to go at the cost of the audience’s satisfaction about the about the people and narrative threads they have invested in for years.

This isn’t a family story: but children probably didn’t pester the studios with angry e-mails and twitter messages etc. They simply counted on a redemption arc and happy ending, and they were right, because they’re not as stupid as adults are. I have read and watched many a comment from fans who hate The Last Jedi. Many of these fans couldn’t even pinpoint what their rage was all about, they only proved to be stuck with the original trilogy and unwilling to widen their horizon. But at least their heroes had had their happy ending: The Rise of Skywalker obliterated the successes of all three generations of Skywalkers.

If the film studios wanted to tease us, they’ve excelled. If they expect the general audience to break their heads over the sequels’ metaphysics, they have not learned from the reactions to the prequels that most viewers take these films at face value. Not everybody is elbows-deep in the saga, or willing to research about it for months, and / or insightful enough to see the story’s connections. Which is why many viewers frown at the narrative and believe the Sequel Trilogy was just badly written. This trilogy could have become legendary like the Original Trilogy, had it fulfilled its promises instead of “keeping it low” with its last chapter. As it is now, the whole trilogy is hanging somewhere in the air, with neither a past nor a future to be tied in with.

The prequels already had the flaw of remaining too obscure: most fans are not aware that Anakin had unwillingly killed his wife during the terrible operation that turned him into Darth Vader, sucking her life out of her through the Force: most go by “she died of a broken heart”. So although one scene mirrors the other, it is not likely that most viewers will understand what Rey’s resurrection meant. And: Why did Darth Maul kill Qui-Gon Jinn? What did the Sith want revenge for? Who was behind Shmi’s abduction and torture? Who had placed the order for the production of the clones, and to what purpose? We can imagine or try to reconstruct the answers, but nothing is confirmed by the story itself.

The sequels remained even more in the dark, obfuscating what little explanation we got in The Rise of Skywalker with quick pacing and mind-numbing effects.

Kylo Ren had promised his grandfather that “he would finish what he started”: he did not. Whatever one can say of this last film, it did not bring Balance in the Force. What’s worse, the subject was not even breached. It was hinted at by the mosaic on the floor of the Prime Jedi Temple on Ahch-To, but although Luke and Rey were sitting on its border, they never seemed to see what was right under their noses. It remains inexplicable why it was there for everyone to see in the first place.

We might argue that Ben finished what his grandfather started by killing (or better, causing the death of) the last Jedi, who this one couldn’t kill because he was his own son; but leaving Rey in charge, he helped her finish what her grandfather had started. The irony could hardly be worse.

Episode IX looks like J.J. Abrams simply completed what they started with Episode VII, largely ignoring the next film as if it was always planned to do so. We, the angry and disappointed fans of The Last Jedi, may believe it was due to some of the general audience’s angry backlash, but honestly: the studios aren’t that dumb. They had to know that Episode VIII would be controversial and that many fans would hate it. The furious reactions were largely a disgrace, but no one can make me believe that they were totally unexpected. Nor can anyone convince me that The Rise of Skywalker was merely an answer to the small but very loud part of the audience who hated The Last Jedi: a company with the power and the returns of Disney Lucasfilm does not need to buckle down before some fan’s entitlement and narrowmindedness out of fear of losing money. And if they do, it was foolish to make Rey so perfect that she becomes almost odious, and to let the last of the Skywalker blood die a meaningless death. (Had he saved the Canto Bight children and left them with Rey, at least he would have died with honor; and she, the child left behind by her parents, would have had a task to dedicate herself to.)

The only reason I can find for this odd ending is that it’s meant to prepare the way for Rian Johnson’s new trilogy, which - hopefully - will finally be about Balance. We as the audience don’t know what’s going on behind the doors. Filmmaking is a business like any other, i.e. based on contracts; and I first heard that Rian Johnson had negotiated a trilogy of his own since before Episode VIII hit theatres. Maybe he kept all the rights of intellectual property to his own film, including that he would finish the threads he picked up and close the narrative circles he opened, and only he; and that his alleged working on “something completely different” is deliberately misleading.

Some viewers love the original trilogy, some love the prequels, some like both; but I hardly expect anyone to love the sequel trilogy as a whole. What with the first instalment “letting the past die, killing it if they had to”, the second hinting at a promising future and the third patched on at the very last like some sort of band-aid, it was not coherent. I heard the responsible team for Game of Thrones even dropped their work, producing a dissatisfying, quickly sewn together last season, for this new Star Wars project and thereby disappointing millions of GoT fans; I hope they are aware of the expectations they have loaded upon them. George Lucas’ original trilogy had its faults, but but though there was no social media yet in his time, at least he was still close enough to the audience to give them what they needed, if not necessarily wanted. (Some fans can’t accept that Luke and Leia are siblings to this day, even if honestly, it was the very best plot twist to finish their story in a satisfying way.)

I’m hoping for now that The Last Jedi was not some love bombing directed at the more sentimental viewers but a promise that will be fulfilled. “Wrapping up” a saga by keeping the flattest, least convincing chapter for last is bad form. Star Wars did not become a pop phenomenon by accident, but because the original story was convincing and satisfying. Endings like these will hardly make anyone remember a story fondly, on the contrary, the audience will move to another fandom to forget their disappointment.

On a side note, I like The Mandalorian, exactly for the reason that that is a magical story; not as much as the original trilogy, but at least a little. Of course, I’m glad it was produced. But it’s a small consolation prize after the mess that supposedly wrapped up the original saga after 9 films.

We’re Not Blind, You Know…

- Though Kylo Ren (Ben Solo) has Darth Vader’s stature, his facial features are practically opposite to Vader’s creepy mask. This should have foreshadowed that his life should have gone the other way, instead of more or less repeating itself. - As a villain Kylo was often unconvincing; by all logic he should have been a good father figure. (Besides, Star Wars films or series never work unless there is a strong father or father figure at their center.)

- Like Vader, Kylo Ren was redeemed, but not rehabilitated. Who knows who may find his broken mask somewhere now and, not knowing the truth, promise “I will finish what you started”. - The hand-touching scene on Ahch-To which was visually opposite to Anakin’s and Padmé’s should not have predicted another tragedy but a happy ending for them. - The Canto Bight sequence was announcing reckoning for the weapon industry and freedom for the enslaved children. It also showed how well Finn and Rose fit together. - Rey was a good girl before she started on her adventures. Like Anakin or Luke, she did not need to become a Jedi to be strong or generous or heroic. - Rey summons Palpatine after one year of training. Kylo practically begged for his grandfather’s assistance for years, to no avail. Her potential for darkness is obviously much stronger. - Dark Rey’s light sabre looked like a fork, Kylo’s like a cross. - The last time all Jedi and Sith were obliterated leaving only Luke in charge, things went awry. Now we have a Palpatine masquerading as a Skywalker and believing she’s a Jedi. Rey is a usurper and universally cheered after years of war, like her grandfather. - The broom boy of Canto Bight looked like he was sweeping a stage and announcing “Free the stage, it’s time for us, the children.”

Rey failed in all instances where Luke had proved himself (so much for feminism and her being a Mary Sue): - Luke had forgiven his father despite all the pain he had inflicted on him. She stabbed the „bad guy”, who had repeatedly protected and comforted her, to death. - Luke never asked Vader to help the Rebellion or to turn to the Light Side, he only wanted him back as his father. She assumed that you could make Ben Solo turn, give up the First Order and join the Resistance for her. She thought of her friends and of her own validation, not of him. - Luke had made peace by choosing peace. Rey fought until the bitter end. - Luke had thrown his weapon away before Palpatine. Rey picked up a second weapon. (And both of them weren’t even her own.) - Luke had mourned his dead father. Rey didn’t shed a tear for the man she is bonded to by the Force. - Luke went back to his friends to celebrate the new peace with them. Rey went back letting everyone celebrate her like the one who saved the galaxy on her own, she who were tempted to become the new evil ruler of the galaxy and had to rely on the alleged Bad Guy to save both her soul and her body. - Luke had embodied compassion when Palpatine was all about hatred. Where he chose love and faith in his father, she chose violence and fear. - Luke had briefly fallen prey to the Dark Side but it made him realize that he had no right to judge his father. Rey’s fall to the Dark Side did not make her wiser. - Rey has no change of mind on finding out that she’s Palpatine’s flesh and blood, nor after she has stabbed Kylo. Luke had to face himself on learning that he had almost become a patricide. Rey does not have to face herself: the revelation of her ancestry is cushioned by Luke’s and Leia’s support. Rey is and remains an uncompromising person who hardly learns from her faults.

This is cheating on the audience. And it's not due to feminism or Rey being some sort of “Mary Sue” the way many affronted fans claim. Kylo never was truly a villain, Rey is not a heroine, and this is not a happy ending. The Jedi, with their stuck-up conviction “only we must win”, have failed all over again. The Skywalker family was obliterated leaving their worst enemy in charge. Rey is supposed to be a “modern” heroine which young girls can take as an example? No, thank you. Not after this last film has made of her. Padmé was a much better role model, combining intelligence with strength and goodness and also female grace. The world does not need entitled female brats.

Bonus: What Made The Rise of Skywalker a Farce

- The Force Awakens was an ok film and The Last Jedi (almost) a masterpiece. The Rise of Skywalker was a cartoon. No wonder a lot of the acting felt and looked wooden. - “I will earn your brother’s light sabre.” She’s holding his father’s sabre. - Kylo in The Last Jedi: “Let the past die. Kill it if, you have to.” Beginning with me? - Rey ends up on Tatooine. - The planet both Anakin and Luke ardently wanted to leave. - Luke had promised his nephew that he would be around for him. - Nope. - Rey had told Ben that she had seen his future. What future was that - “you will be a hero for ten minutes, get a kiss and then die? (And they didn’t even get a love theme.) - “The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead.” On a desert planet with a few ghosts. What of the ocean she used to dream about? - Ben and Rey were both introduced as two intensely lonely people searching for belonging. We learn they are a Force dyad, and then they are torn apart again. - Why was Ben named for Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first place, if they have absolutely nothing in common? - The Throne Room battle scene in The Last Jedi was clearly showing that when they are in balance, Light Side and Dark Side are unbeatable. Why did the so-called “Light Side” have to win again, in The Rise of Skywalker, instead of finding balance? - Luke’s scene on Ahch-To was so ridiculously opposite to his attitude in The Last Jedi that by now I believe he was a fantasy conjectured by her. (Like Ben’s vision of his father.) - Anakin’s voice among the other Jedi’s. - He was a renegade, for Force’s sake. - The kiss between two females. - More fan service, to appease those who pretended that not making Poe and Finn a couple was a sign of homophobia. - We see the Knights of Ren, but we learn absolutely nothing about them or Kylo’s connection with them. - Rose Tico’s invalidation. - A shame after what the actress had gone through because for the fans she was “not Star-Wars-y” (chubby and lively instead of wiry and spitfire). - Finn’s and Rose’s relationship. - Ignored without any explanation. - Finn may or may not be Force-sensitive. - If he is: did he abandon the First Order not due to his own free will but because of some higher willpower? Great. - General Hux was simply obliterated. - In The Force Awakens he was an excellent foil to Kylo Ren; no background story, no humanization for him. - Chewie’s and 3PO’s faked deaths. - Useless additional drama. - The Force Awakens was a bow before the classic trilogy. The Rise of Skywalker kicked its remainders to pieces. - The Prequel Trilogy ended with hope, the Original Trilogy with love. The Sequel Trilogy ends on a blank slate. - “We are what they grow beyond.” The characters of the Sequel Trilogy did not grow beyond the heroes of the Original Trilogy. - The Jedi did not learn from their mistakes and were obliterated. The Skywalker family understood the mistakes they had made too late. Now they’re gone, too.

P.S. While I was watching The Rise of Skywalker my husband came in asked me since when I like Marvel movies. I said “That’s not a Marvel movie, it’s Star Wars.” I guess that says enough.

P.P.S. For the next trilogy, please at least let the movies hit theatres in May again instead of December. a) It’s tradition for Star Wars films, b) Whatever happens, at least you won’t ruin anyone’s Christmases. Thank you.

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