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djemsostylist · 3 years

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Djem's Legion Thoughts

About three years ago my brother joking suggested I read the Horus Heresy, knowing literally nothing about Warhammer. (Literally nothing. I just thought Space Marines were big dudes in armor and I had never heard of Primarchs and I still know nothing of 40k. Have no idea how the Heresy ends--I'm spoiler free babes.) Anyway, what follows are my feelings on each Legion at the following times:

As of midway through Fulgrim

At the end of First Heretic

At the start of the Master of Mankind

Halfway through the Siege

This is very long. I'm not sorry.

Dark Angels

idk I haven’t met them yet, but their name tells me they are either going to be amazing or fucking awful

Um I still dk

God I fucking love these stupid idiots. Like, they are stupid, for sure, but I dunno, I dig their bizarre sort of pseudosecrecy thing. Plus, aesthetically I’m all about weird monk orders. Also, nothing kills me quite like Farith Redloss having anxiety attacks over trying to figure out Lion.

Corswain showing up like the living embodiment of the dude with the pizza where the apartment is on fire is just so deeply on brand for these chucklefucks like, Lion is all “I’m deeply uncomfortable where Imperial Secundus is concerned so instead I’ll just go ahead and attack home planets because that will demoralize the traitors and then I’m Doing My Part” like fam, pretty much all the traitors sans Perturabo are actual literal demons rn and they all had zero qualms betraying their immediate brothers and also the emperor (and Perturabo already fucked over his own) why in the livid fuck would you think this is in any way helpful, but this is Classic Lion and I love him now on account of that one time when he hugged Roboute because he was proud of him and also because he calls all of his sons “Little Brother” bc he is afraid of being a dad and also because I too am deeply avoidant of issues I don’t want to deal with.

Emperor's Children

mostly wonderful, because they are fabulous and also extremely extra, but they have the most ginourmous fuckwad as a Lord Commander, BUT they have a very good boy as another one, so idk really. Plus the whole betrayal thing and the fucking lodges, but they are purple and fabulous, so, +1?

These are the saddest boys ever in the whole world, and they didn’t deserve what happened to them. I loved them all except for Eidolon and they didn’t deserve anything bad to happen to them ever bc they were precious and I loved them. Also Fabius because he was bugnuts and he hurt my boys.

Jesus, I’m so fucking over them all

Honestly I’m so tired

Iron Warriors

I totally confused them with the Iron Hands. Idk even, boring? But Perturabo (while he has a fucking terrible name) also hates Horus so +15

I still know nothing about them, but I think they are buttholes because of the whole Isstvan V thing. Dick move guys, dick move.

I literally can’t. Like, their entire shtick is besieging and being besieged, and then being pissy bc it is what they are good at???? Like, they are literally traitoring bc their dad got a hair up his ass bc he wasn’t a good independent thinker and didn’t think he was allowed to build castles or whatever? Idk they are exhausting except for the ones that aren’t

I still don’t really get them at all except like 99% of them who aren’t named Barabas Dantioch are asshats and are not independent thinkers who are literally still traitoring for reasons unknown except to stick it to the emperor like?? Get an actual culture??? Just literally stop???

White Scars

I dunno, haven’t met them, but since no one else talks about them, I’m gonna guess, boring?

I dunno but they are worried about them hooking up with the Rout so I guess they are cool?

Oh bless your tiny little souls. They are so sweet, and so, so dumb. But sweet.

They are very, very good boys. They don’t have a ton of range per say but their simplicity is sort of the point I think. They are what space marines are supposed to be, and I love them for that

Space Wolves

ehm, oh, I’m sorry, The Rout. Whateverthefuck, they’re boring, over-the-top fuckheads who are giant fucking hypocrites who suck and probably don’t ever shower. Honestly, they rival the Emperor’s Children in extraness, and not in the loveable way. Fucking awful, 0/10.

Okay, honestly, not as awful as some. I mean, hella extra and I hate what they did at Prospero, but in a world full of awful things, we gotta pick and choose.

They are just so, so...Space Wolfy. Bless them they try, and some of them legit crack me up. I’m just not about their aesthetic, you know?

Much like the other fuckups amongst the Loyalists, they are a blunt instrument used for a specific purpose and do better with like...direct instruction. I’m saying they are not the kind to do well with metaphor and also a lack of like, a dad. They need TE:BBA is what I’m saying.

Imperial Fists

Literally only met them briefly, but they seem a good sort. I like their Primarch? -3 tho cause damn that color scheme.

Still good boys.

Omg I love you all, you precious little bbs. They are just so calm and stoic and honestly even though yellow is a hideous color they are literally like Templars and that is fantastic?????

Listen, the amount of love that I have in my heart for these precious, perfect boys is rivaled only by my love for Rogal Dorn, who might possibly be, and I don’t wanna sound dramatic here, be the love of my life but anyway.

Night Lords

idk but their name sounds sick.

Right, these guys are also dicks. I hate them on principle.

Every time I think of them all I can think of is that one video of the goths dancing under the bridge. They are so. Fucking. Extra. Christ alive, get a hobby that isn’t fucking skinning people.

Yeah idk they still mostly suck and to be perfectly honest I’m still not entirely sure what their point was, even pre-heresy? Like what role did psychopaths play in TE:BBA’s plan for a glorious human empire, someone explain

Blood Angels

I dunno cause I’ve only ever met their First Captain (who was consorting with fuckheads) but Sanguinius is literally Top Tier Fabulous, like Prince Extra, so I hope they don’t let me down

I’m still holding out hope. Don’t let me down boys.

OH. MY. GOD. Honestly, kill me, I love them so, so, so, so, so much, it’s a lot. And I suspect something terrible will happen with them but I don’t care because they are perfect. All of them. Wonderful, perfect, lovely, caring boys who love their dad and I love them. Sweet, loving, precious little bbs who occasionally suffer from tragic vampiric tendencies but I don’t love them any less. They better stay perfect forever. If I could, I would be like Sangy and just take them all everywhere with me so that they could always be safe <3 On a less gushy note, I think one of the most important aspects of the Blood Angels (and of their primarch) is that while they acknowledge their differences from unmodified humans, they also love humanity, deeply. They see them as worth fighting for and protecting, and acknowledge that their abilities allow them to create a universe that is safe for the common man to live in. There is a sort of profound love and tenderness that they have for humanity, and I think it really does make a difference in their legion. (That scene is Master of Mankind with the Blood Angel and the Custodian really highlights what I’m saying here.)

Listen, this may sound dramatic, and I don’t wanna like, go over the top, but I would literally die for them, which would seem counterproductive since that is what they do for humanity but the amount of love of I have for this entire legion and one Angel is too big to contain in my heart okay

Iron Hands

I don’t know them well yet, but they seem like good boys overall. I’m sure one of them is bound to be a crazy fucker tho.

They are good boys. I don’t know them very well, but my favorite moment is when Ferrus had to thank Lorgar for his help so he made him a crozius and then threw it at him because he didn’t want to have to talk awkwardly.

Poor sad bbs

No, but really, poor sad bbs

World Eaters

literally terrible people, but I guess when your Dad is bugnuts….

Definitely should have been put down. As in to death. They should have been killed. Probably.

Still fucking crazy. But I love Kharn, and honestly Lotara (who I know isn’t technically a World Eater but close enough.)

No but they probably should have all been just euthanized? I mean not Kharn bc I love him but also like--they are not viable. Long term? Tbh still not entirely sure what TE:BBA’s plan was here with them and Angron (I’m gonna assume something along the lines of ignore it and hope it goes away, since that is mostly his plan for everything)

Ultramarines

probably enormous squares, but tbh in a galaxy with World Eaters and the Rout, we could do with some squares.

Honestly, I have no issues with them. They do their duty, they are loyal. I hope to love them though. They actually believe in colors.

HOLY FUCK DO I LOVE THEM. ALL 200,000 OF THEM. (Which is probably what Roboute thinks tbh.) Like, I literally haven’t met a single one that I don’t adore and love with my whole soul and entire being. They are precious, soft, beautiful bbs who I adore with my whole heart. And who will make great leaders of the world someday I’m so proud. On a less gushy note, much like the Blood Angels, the Ultramarines really have a sort of profound feeling of protection and duty towards humans. They may not always like dealing with them, but Roboute is of the firm belief that they must understand what they are truly fighting for. Saving humanity is not enough, you have to fight for the humans who live there. (See, the one short story where they find a baby and I died.)

No but what you don’t quite get is that I literally love them. Every single individual solitary one of them, and while some may say “But Djem such a thing is impossible you haven’t met every Ultramarine” I need you to understand that the depth of my love for them and their Primarch is such that I know, in my bones, that I don’t need to meet them all to love them okay bc I already do.

Death Guard

Okay, so honestly I wanted to hate them (because BETRAYAL) but tbh its only the First and Second Captains who suck a lot and idk really the rest are sort of tragically precious??

Seriously, what is Mortarion’s issue?

No, seriously, what the fuck is their problem? Get the fuck over it.

Okay, I do feel bad. For Mortarian. Of all the traitors, him I understand the most. However, that being said, while I can understand his issues, I feel like giving yourself over to demons, turning into actual demons, and also turning on and killing your brothers who refused to become said demons makes you terrible awful people who really need to like, die.

Thousand Sons

okay, I fucking love these lame Warrior Monk Priest Wizards who live in a literal glass city with restaurants and teach random people Tai Chi in the park or whatever. Overall 10/10

I am v. worried that they are going to do something dumb like join the rebellion in order to affect change from the inside and then like, adopt demons or something. Pls don’t be dumb boys.

I don’t even fucking--look, I’m just tired okay?

What the fuck Azhek. No seriously, ⅞ is good enough? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Sons of Horus? Luna Wolves? who the fuck knows

my precious sons. You did not deserve what was done to you. This is why we don’t do frats. I believed in you and you failed me. D:

I love my precious sons. The Sons of Horus however, can go die.

I just--why are you the way you are?

I think the best thing about these absolute morons is that half the legion isn’t even demon fuckers, they just woke up one day and Horus told them to kill their brothers and they went “sure okay” and then just did. They are so fucking pretentious and stupid, fucking speartip, honestly die. I take it back. You all deserved exactly what you got, you dumb fucks.

Word Bearers

look, I haven’t met the rest of these dudes yet, but Erebus is a terrible fucking ambassador. -60/10 for not controlling their boy

HOLY LORD. I cannot--there are not actually words to describe how much I loathe these ignorant dumbasses. Like, seriously. Honestly, the ones who were purged were probably lucky, because the rest of them fucking suck.

God, eat a fucking landmine. Except, that would probably turn them on or something. Fucking assholes.

Just--imagine being such a fuckup that even when you were the first to the “become a demon, save the world” thing you still somehow ended up last. I hope the Ultramarines put down every. Single. One.

Salamanders

idk but this name is dumb. Salamanders are cute and slimy, and while Astartes are fucking adorable, they are not slimy. -1 for the dumb name

They are loyal, which is cool, and they seem like chill bros.

I just, like, they are sweet, but good lord are they simple.

I’m not sure? What they are doing? With their lives? Guys, idk if anyone told you but like, um. There is a war. And I get they’ve had it rough but also the loyalists could use their hope so maybe, idk. Do something? I mean I know there are like, 50 of you left and also you think your dad is dad and I feel you but like-

Raven Guard

idk but I like Ravens and Black, plus their Primarch’s name is Corvus? 11/10 they better not suck.

OMG I love Corvus?? Flies with a giant jetpack and tried to gut Lorgar? Yeah, he’s wonderful. Plus, their Captain seemed cool before he was fucking murdered.

I love them all, bless. They are sweet and simple and kind of stupid, but they make me feel things in my heart, so like, idk, stay precious.

Look, I cried over Branne fucking Nev, I don’t wanna talk about it rn

Alpha Legion

seriously? Lame.

Fuck these guys. What is their deal?

I can’t even really. I really, truly can’t. Nothing has ever satisfied me the way I was satisfied when Alpharius literally lost his head. God, that was beautiful.

Or Omegon? It was actually Omegon? I don’t even know anymore man

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weepywillowsap · 3 years

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Very indulgent jealous Charles ficklet (based on the ballroom dance scene in Emma).

Part 1

The ball was in full swing around him. Charles was jubilant as he danced with Warren. His partner was pleasing in both his manner and conversation, and if the word going around was to be believed, quite the catch. Warren smiled at him widely as they stepped into the next sequence, leading him through the moves flawlessly. Around them sparkled the sound of good music and laughter, enlivened by the easy flow of good wine and champagne. Charles caught eye Moira’s eye as she twirled past him in the arms of Lord Janos and winked at her.

He was breathless with laughter by the time the set came to an end. Charles fought a blush as Warren took his hand and raised it to his lips after they had bowed to each other. After agreeing to dance another set with him, Charles made his way to the refreshment table tired and absolutely parched. He had danced every song so far. He chatted merrily with some of his acquaintances as he had another glass of mulled wine, tonight felt like a success and he felt exuberant. If only Erik were here, Charles sighed to himself a little despondently. He had been called away on business a fortnight ago but he was supposed to have come back this afternoon. Charles hoped he would be here tonight, Erik's absence always left him feeling out of sorts. There was no one to bicker with or make fun of. It left Charles feeling strangely bereft.

He was interrupted from his wallowing by Raven who had just arrived. She was dressed in soft chiffons with her hair styled according to the latest fashion. She looked wonderful. Charles pushed through the throng of people to reach her, she stood near the entrance of the room uncertainly. She had still now grown used to the niceties of society and it reflected in how she held herself. Charles frowned to himself as he neared her, he should have come with her. It was thoughtless of him to have abandoned her to her own devices.

Raven gave him a huge smile as she saw him, her face transforming instantly from its previous reluctance.

"Raven!" Charles exclaimed, "you look beautiful my darling"

Her cheeks reddened as she laughed at his compliment, "I had better, considering the number of hours I spent on my toilette this evening".

Charles laughed as he took her hand and pulled her along, introducing her to people along the way. He had the perfect partner in mind for her. Lord Shaw stood in the corner with his usual retinue of followers. He had gained his title rather recently, but he was obscenely rich and rather charming. Like Raven, he was somewhat of an outsider in their society, but a welcome one no doubt. She would find it easier to be with him than any of the other more stuffy suitors. Somewhere in his head he could hear Erik's disapproving voice telling him he was being presumptuous. He ignored it feeling miffed. Erik should have been here. It made very little sense for him to miss this ball, especially since he had been away for so long. Especially when he knew Charles would be there.

He shook off the unpleasant feeling in his chest as he introduced Raven to Shaw. The conversation flowed smoothly between the three of them. Raven seemed pleased, while Shaw seemed uncharacteristically hesitant and shy. He kept trying to draw Charles into the conversation, good naturedly laughing at him with Raven. Charles was just thinking of a way to extricate himself from the situation and leave Raven to make a new friend, when he caught sight of a familiar figure from the corner of his eye. Erik! Exclaiming in pleasure Charles hastily made his excuses and ignored Raven's knowing look as he turned and hurried towards his friend.

Erik stood in the corner of the room talking to Mr Burchfield. He carried himself as stiffly as he usually did when he was out in society. Leave it to him to enter a party and find the most boring individual to talk to. Erik caught sight of him as he drew closer. The expression on his face softened and his stance relaxed almost imperceptibly. Erik's lips curled at the corner as they usually did when he was happy but unwilling to show it.

"My dear Mr Lenhsherr" Charles cut into the conversation smoothly, firmly tucking his hand in his friend's to tug him lightly towards himself. He gamely ignored the exasperated look Erik gave him.

"And Mr Burchfield" he said giving the man a little bow, “a pleasure as always”

The older man seemed a little taken aback by the sudden interruption, but he was also used to the quirky ways of the nobility. After a few polite words he was glad to leave them, but not before eliciting a promise from Erik to meet the next day to continue the conversation.

Charles finally turned to face his friend fully, beaming at the familiar expression on the well loved face.

“Charles, I am glad to see you remain as impetuous as always“ Erik said, his eyes crinkling at the corners as they did when he smiled. As rare as that was.

“And I am glad to see you remain as severe as always old man“ Charles shot back affectionately, while carefully observing the man before him, “you look tired, maybe you should have rested tonight“

“And risked you whining at me for ditching you for a month after?“ Erik said dryly, his eyebrows raised.

Charles bristled a little at that expression, it was the same expression that Erik always adopted when he was feeling particularly lofty and disapproving. As if Charles was still a child and not a well respected adult. It stung a little, he wanted Erik to see him as an equal. He had long ceased to be the little boy who would Erik around and hanging upon him with stars in his eyes.

“I did not even note that you were gone“ he retorted with a poorly disguised scowl, turning to pick up another glass of wine from the passing server.

“Really?“ Erik was smirking at him now, “have you found more projects to keep yourself employed? I saw Raven on my way in, she looked beautiful by the way. I would keep her from Shaw if I were you“ he gestured towards where Raven was standing with the man, “he is an awful opportunist”.

Charles felt himself flush with annoyance.

“I was actually glad to have the opportunity to enjoy myself without someone judging my every move“ he looked away, taking a fortifying gulp from his glass.

“Raven is doing quite well actually, Shaw has taken to her marvellously. In fact“ Charles paused for effect and finished the remains of his wine, “he has asked her to dance the next set with him“.

He looked triumphantly at Erik, only to falter at the contemptuous expression on his face.

Charles could feel his temper rising. Coupled with the wine he had, he felt a bit light headed and brash.

“In fact“ he pushed on, ignoring the thinning of Erik’s lips, “I quite enjoyed myself in your absence, there was no one to check my every move and pass judgement on my manifold follies“ Charles looked away from Erik to glare at the glass in his hand.

“In fact, contrary to your opinion, people do find me pleasing company and I am not the spoilt child you make me out to be”

“In fact“ he said as he gestured towards Warren at the other end of the room, “Warren Worthington, the most eligible bachelor in the county, has been seeking my company of his own voilition. I am to dance the next few sets with him and I have not even noted your absence in the very least. So you see“ he paused to draw in a steadying breath, “I will not have whined at you, for I do not even care if you aren’t here. Indeed, I am far happier when you are not!“

Charles finished his diatribe with a pleased flourish of his hands, only to stop when he saw the expression on the other man’s face.

Erik’s face was a passive mask, his grey eyes cold and distant. Charles flinched at the sight as he realised he had overstepped as always.

“Erik..“ he hastily moved to correct himself, but he his friend was already moving away from him, untangling his hand from his.

“It is quite well Charles, I apologise for burdening you with my presence. Indeed you were only to say a word and I would have obliged“ he paused only to give him a stiff bow. Before Charles could say another word, Erik was striding away from him with his quick decisive strides, disappearing into the milling crowd.

Charles stood there feeling sick, an awful feeling rising in his chest. He felt alarmingly like he would cry. He was rescued from the moment by the arrival of Warren himself. Their set was due to start next. He allowed himself to be led to the floor and mechanically followed the steps of the song. His mind kept going back to the fight with Erik. It was unfair, it was terribly unfair. It was his fault, he never could control his tongue around him. But Erik had no business chastising him at every turn. He ignored the questioning look Warren sent him as they twirled together into the next sequence.

Tomorrow he would go over to Erik’s with some books and the chess set. They would work it out. Erik would be aloof at the start, but he would forgive him with the ease of practice. Perhaps in the evening they could go out riding to the river. Charles felt his chest unclench. They would be alright. He had missed Erik terribly.

He smiled at Warren reassuringly, everything was okay.

Suddenly a familiar couple whirled away next to them. He turned to look curiously only to stop short in surprise. It was Erik and Raven,

He tried to suppress the surge of betrayal that rose within him at the sight. Erik never danced. He had never danced with Charles, despite him asking a hundred times. Erik always claimed it was beneath his dignity to fail at anything, and he would certainly fail at dance. And here he was, gracefully twirling Raven through the set, with the soft smile that indicated he was genuinely enjoying himself. In the amber light of the room, with cheeks flushed with exertion, Raven looked beautiful. She was radiant. Erik looked effortlessly handsome as he always did. Heart achingly familiar and his. But dancing with another.

Charles tore his eyes away from the couple, stumbling over the next few steps with a foreign clumsiness. As soon as the dance ended he bowed to his partner and mumbled a few excuses to make his way out of the stifling atmosphere of the room. There was a burning sensation in his throat. The idea of Erik dancing with Raven was unbearable. The idea of Erik dancing with anyone who was not Charles was unbearable. He was his best friend. The possibility of the fact that someone else could ever come between them was intolerable.

He found an empty library and closed the door, his eyes burning. This was irrational, the logical part of his brain supplied. Erik was his friend, he was allowed to have other affections. Had not Charles himself enjoyed Warren’s attentions. No, the other part of him supplied fiercely. It was not the same. Charles knew that he did not feel anything for Warren, he was a pleasing companion and nothing more. Erik on the other hand did not make friends easily, and he had genuinely seemed taken with Raven. Even now they were there, dancing together without a care about him.

Charles wanted to punch a wall, he wanted to break the crystal vase on the table, he wanted to pull Erik to him and shake him for being so foolish, he wanted to kiss Erik senseless till he forgot about anyone else, Oh.

Oh.

He wanted to kiss Erik. He wanted. He wanted.

He groaned in distress and sank into the sofa, covering his face with his palms.

He loved Erik. It was a revelation. It was the most obvious thing in the world.

He groaned again, shaking his head. Moira and Edie would be so smug.

#cherik #Charles Xavier #Erik Lehnsherr #cherik fanfic #cherik fic #characterization is hard #charles says the worst possible thing #poor erik #oh well #jealous Charles

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izanyas · 5 years

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Wait

Dæmon AU ORV? Dæmon AU ORV.

Rating: T Words: 3,700 Warnings: some violence, internalized homophobia, mentions of past child/domestic abuse.

Wait

Kim Dokja does not often reflect on his earlier childhood memories. The past is something better left buried to someone like him, who for all that he has spent years stagnating wants nothing more than to strive forward and forward and never, truly, look back. But the moment his fingers wrap around the piece of jade and he hears it acknowledge him—the moment he stops being an incarnation for good—a memory comes to him from sometime long ago.

He is sitting on the floor of the living-room in his childhood home, a book open over his lap and Kyunguk nestled in his neck. It is that time of dusk when daylight ceases to be sufficient and his tired eyes blink over and over, struggling to make sense of printed words.

His mother comes in and flicks the ceiling light on; she says to him, "You should have him take another shape sometimes."

Noori flies over her head and right under the glowing lamp. His shadow spreads over the room like an omen, until he deigns to sit closer to Dokja than he usually elects to. The crow's yellow eyes glisten like gems and bore into Kyunguk's own unwavering gaze. Kyunguk's thin fur sticks close to the skin of Dokja's neck.

"He's watching me," Kyunguk says for Dokja's ears only.

Kim Dokja strokes his back with the tips of his fingers. He tells his mother, "Kyunguk likes it."

"It's not a flattering image. To you or him."

"And Noori's is?"

Noori is the size of a small dog, with wings so black that no light reflects upon them even when the sun shines bright. Lee Sookyung has received her share of disbelief and distrust for the shape of her dæmon, and Kim Dokja privately thinks that she is not one to interfere or care what his schoolmates say of Kyunguk. Or what his teachers relate to her.

This is an old, old memory. A memory from before. A day with his father outside, a day absent of his dog-dæmon's snarls and biting, of the sick stench of alcohol. Kim Dokja took the opportunity to read in the wider spaces of his home rather than hole himself in his room, and Lee Sookyung stayed in the kitchen for the better part of it. Occasionally, Noori peaked inside with his beady yellow eyes, just to make sure Dokja hadn't moved.

Kim Dokja hates crows.

He feels the flesh of his back tear open as wings as black as night grow out of his shoulder blades. He sees through Kyunguk's eyes the shape and style of them, remembers with a smile the sound of feathers on the wind at night when torn voices and the sound of broken echoed through the house.

He is the seventy-third Demon King. The one his comrades have to vanquish to beat the tenth scenario.

"Are you ready?" he asks Kyunguk, and the dæmon does not answer with words, but with a flick of its long tail over the length of Dokja's neck.

It takes precious time and effort to convince the party to attack him—and, though Kim Dokja is loath to admit it, Han Sooyoung's help, bright as her eyes are around the tail of the scorpion perched into her hair. Yoo Jonghyuk and Miteum stay prone against the wall in the corner of Kim Dokja's eyes. They watch from a distance, bleeding and disoriented while Lee Seolhwa works her magic on them, and it is oddly difficult not to feel the weight of their gaze as he allows his allies to stab and punch and cry at him.

Kyunguk crawls down from Kim Dokja's neck and under his white coat till he is cradled between the open wings at his back, his sharp claws stuck into the fabric of his shirt. They have never torn into Kim Dokja's skin and they never will, he knows; Kyunguk is simply more open than him with his fright.

Kim Dokja listens with one ear to the multiple messages he receives from the constellations. He smiles again when he understands the full meaning of the fate bound to him; when he sees Yoo Jonghyuk rise with his black sword in hand and murder in his eyes, Miteum at his feet showing her dripping fangs.

Perhaps this is the day he'll know how they feel when they bite.

There is no need to come to such measures. The third regression Yoo Jonghyuk is not yet someone who has dealt away with taboos and morality. His sword and will are enough to cut through the defense that Kim Dokja cannot help raising, and steel through the chest and shoulder is no laughing matter of pain. Kyunguk trembles when one of Kim Dokja's wings is cut a hair's breath off of his own back. He crawls back atop Dokja's shoulder right as Dokja falls to his knees, blood in his mouth, Yoo Jonghyuk's voice in his ears.

Already he can feel this body vaporizing as the scenario ban enacts itself.

[Your fate has been realized.]

Kyunguk shivers and shakes against him. The dæmon who has never changed form stays here as he has since they were children, into the crook of Dokja's neck and whimpering into his ear. Kim Dokja wants to lift a hand and touch him. He doesn't have the strength to.

"Kim Dokja," Yoo Jonghyuk calls into his other ear.

He has dropped the black sword in order to hold him. Kim Dokja meets Miteum's eyes over the man's shoulder.

Vomiting blood is surprisingly uncomfortable. The Fourth Wall offsets some of the pain and feeling of it, but Kim Dokja can't avoid the taste in his mouth, the slickness and heat he has no choice but to let drip over Yoo Jonghyuk's shoulder. He laughs weakly and says, "It was a great story, wasn't it?"

Yoo Jonghyuk breathes in something like a gasp.

Kim Dokja has not the strength to stroke Kyunguk's fear away, but there is one thing he can do. Already his legs and wings have crumbled like dust in the wind, and somehow this lightens the burden of fatigue and pain some more, enough for him to be able to move one arm. He slithers it along Yoo Jonghyuk's side and in the direction of Miteum until he can rest his hand on her head.

Yoo Jonghyuk tenses against him. It is a movement of the body and soul, his stillness, so deep that not even his chest moves with the air he takes in. Kim Dokja would blush if he still had the blood to, but as it is he simply focuses on the feeling of warm fur under his hand, on the strength of the wolf's gaze as he speaks to her for the first time.

"Take care of Kyunguk for me."

No dæmon can survive outside the scenario. It is something Kim Dokja knows from reading Ways of Survival, something he has prepared for the moment he realized that the tenth scenario had been updated through the prophecy's influence. He ignores Uriel's cries in his ears and the laughter of nebulæ. He thinks again of the pain Yoo Jonghyuk experienced the first time he separated from Miteum—as he reminds Kyunguk through the voice they both share that this is temporary.

"I don't want to," Kyunguk trembles and cries, "I don't want to, I don't want to, I don't want to."

His claws dig through the white coat until they touch Dokja's skin. He once more feels as small and cowardly as he was in those days of his youth, when Kim Dokja asked him to change form and he refused, time after time, until it was too late. But he slides down from Dokja's vanishing arm until he touches ground for the first time in years; he meets Kim Dokja's eyes with hurt and betrayal, but he doesn't try to cling again.

He was always the last one to give up between the both of them.

Yoo Jonghyuk has never allowed anyone to touch Miteum before.

A handful of people asked. His mother and father when he was a child, his sister on the day Miteum settled and her fur grew silver and white like a jewel under the light. Lee Seolhwa, the first time they made love.

Kim Dokja does not ask. Kim Dokja has never asked for Yoo Jonghyuk's input on any of his schemes and actions before, and it should come as no surprise that he should be so shameless, and yet Jonghyuk freezes at the first brush of skin on fur. The ache that grows within his chest is nothing like anything he knows, in and out of physical existence.

Kim Dokja lays a hand on Miteum's head, and Yoo Jonghyuk feels it between his ribs, around his heart.

There is nothing left of Kim Dokja's body after the black expense behind him finishes swallowing him up. Only bloodstains on the floor and his rat dæmon, prone and gasping, shuddering with the pain of separation. It is an awful thing to witness and Yoo Jonghyuk can hardly bear to look at it—can feel the others behind him holding their own, cannot stop himself from gripping the fur of Miteum's back—but he has to.

He has to look.

[The tenth scenario has ended. Rewards will be distributed soon.]

Other such messages follow. Yoo Jonghyuk doesn't listen to them. He watches Kyunguk shake and listens to the tiny, terrified squeaks he lets out. He remembers the edge of a broken bridge above Han river, a plain-faced man in a cheap suit calling himself his companion, his frightened rat dæmon gripping his shoulder with its claws.

It seems to take an eternity. Lee Seolhwa comes and nudges him, Lee Hyunsung calls his name with tears on his voice, but Yoo Jonghyuk doesn't move. He cannot move. At last the lone dæmon on the floor stops thrashing and moving and seems to fall asleep.

"Miteum," he says.

She moves, silent and deadly. His hand follows the curve of her spine until her tail flicks from under his fingers. She bends over the still rat and takes it into her mouth, and Yoo Jonghyuk knows that her hold is gentle, that her fangs will put only the softest of pressure against Kyunguk's thin bones.

He rises to his feet and declares, "Let's go."

It's not easy. The children are sobbing, Jung Heewon has gone into something like shock, and Han Sooyoung has bitten her lips open. Lee Hyunsung, Yoo Sangah and himself manage to carry everyone out of the Dark Castle and then out of the Seoul Dome. He breaks the wall of it with his fists. It is barely enough to undo his tension.

The hours that follow do not feel real. Living inside the dome has made them all quick to forget that life goes on outside, that aside from the capitals of the world, billions of people remain who have not suffered the Star Stream. They are assaulted by journalists and do-gooders, offered money and employment, recompense, honor.

Han Sooyoung separates from their group almost immediately. Yoo Sangah guides Lee Gilyoung and Shin Yoosung away with both hands on their shoulders, her cat dæmon walking between her legs with its thick fur raised high.

Miteum presses to his side. She still carries Kyunguk in her mouth.

A house is given to them on the outskirts of the city. The transparent dome is now as black as night and, Yoo Jonghyuk knows, just as impenetrable. There is no use in returning there and searching the ruins for a trace of Kim Dokja. He would not survive outside the scenario even if he tried.

And yet, Kyunguk remains. Weak and shivering and alone, but alive. Which means that Kim Dokja lives on in some form or another.

He and Miteum enter the farthest and most secluded bedroom in the house. Jonghyuk locks the door behind them and watches her gently set the rat atop the soft cover of the bed. Kyunguk's tongue lolls out of his mouth. His breaths are fast and shallow, raising the black fur of his stomach and sides almost too quickly for the naked eye.

"He's not dead," Yoo Jonghyuk says.

Miteum rarely speaks. She says nothing now, but he can feel that she agrees with him as she does on so many things. Jonghyuk advances through the room and sits on the bed, leaving enough distance between himself and Kyunguk that the dæmon will not topple in his direction, even with the mattress dipping. Miteum feels no such need for boundaries; she jumps atop the bed and sits, curled around the rat's trembling form without outright touching him. His fur is wet where her saliva has bathed him.

Yoo Jonghyuk pets her absently, looking at Kim Dokja's dæmon and wondering. Thoughts of his sword piercing the man's body fray at the edges of his mind and threaten to make his hands shake; he fists one into the bedspread and the other into Miteum's back.

"You let him," he starts.

He can't finish. The words pulse inside his mouth like a heartbeat.

Miteum shifts her head so she can look at him. He opens his fingers, drags them through her silver fur.

Between her legs, Kyunguk looks like he's dying.

Yoo Jonghyuk cannot explain the knot in his throat, the impression of a hand through his chest as if something has reached under his skin and pulled open his ribs. "He's going to die," he says.

Miteum bends down and licks down the rat's heaving side. He whimpers, still caught between unconsciousness and obvious suffering. Yoo Jonghyuk pictures himself for a second reaching out as Kim Dokja had earlier and taking Kyunguk in hand. Bringing him the warmth that his human must have. His throat dries.

"The fate," Miteum murmurs.

Her voice is deep and soul-wide. Yoo Jonghyuk remembers himself as a child leaning with his head against her ribs, listening to the echo of it through her soft and warm body. Even before adulthood she preferred the shape of dogs and wolves, of bigger felines sometimes. No one had been surprised by her settling.

[Kim Dokja's fate has been realized.]

That is what the dokkaebi's message said when Yoo Jonghyuk stabbed Kim Dokja through the chest.

"It doesn't make sense," he replies.

Miteum gives another lick to Kyunguk's frail body.

He cannot be the person that Kim Dokja loves most. Kim Dokja has shown no sign of being attracted to anyone but women; he and Yoo Sangah look to be close enough for affection, and if not her then Han Sooyoung, in spite of her own scheming nature—

No, he thinks, looking again at the forlorn dæmon. What does he know, truly, of Kim Dokja? He has seen him from afar with women stuck in the same unfortunate circumstances as he. He has opposed and supported him in battle. He has watched him die and rise again three times, experienced grief and relief three times, refused to examine his own feelings about it.

Kim Dokja called himself his companion the very first time they met. He called himself a prophet. Whatever he saw of Yoo Jonghyuk's future was enough to make come back again and again—to break Yoo Jonghyuk out of the throws of nightmares or of his own hopelessness and encourage him to live.

Jonghyuk knows what people say of those with dæmons of the same gender. Why did he never think of it regarding Kim Dokja and Kyunguk?

"You're asking the wrong question," Miteum growls at him.

She is right.

What he knows is right in front of him, burned into his memory: the prophecy said the incarnation Kim Dokja would be killed by the one he loves most. Yoo Jonghyuk killed Kim Dokja. The prophecy was realized.

"Incarnation Kim Dokja," he says out loud, realizing.

Of course. He rubs a hand over his bloody face and sighs. Of course, Kim Dokja must have realized this a lot sooner than he did, the bastard.

"What did he tell you?" he asks Miteum. "When he… earlier, what did he say?"

Miteum looks away from him almost haughtily. She noses at Kyunguk again.

Kim Dokja is alive. For now. Whether he can survive separating from his dæmon is another story; whether he can come back one day is too remote to even consider. Looking at Kyunguk on the bed, Yoo Jonghyuk would not bet on Kim Dokja's survival, but he has made this mistake before, he realizes.

No one would imagine that the man with the small rat dæmon could be so powerful. Powerful enough to surpass Yoo Jonghyuk. Whether this strength comes from Kyunguk or Kim Dokja or the both of them at once, Jonghyuk can only hazard a guess.

Jonghyuk settles for his first night in a proper bed in months. There is a working shower in the bathroom down the hall and he makes full use of it, Miteum beside him shedding the blood and grime off her slick fur. She has carried Kyunguk with them, put him atop a pile of warm towels outside the stall. Her eyes rarely leave him.

He almost walks into Lee Seolhwa when he exits the room.

Miteum remains docile at his side, her jaws delicately holding Kyunguk. Lee Seolhwa and Dal are both looking at her. The python hisses and moves around her shoulders, as disturbed as she is—as they all are—by the idea of a dæmon, alone.

Seolhwa looks up at him quickly. "I wanted to know if you were all right," she says.

"I'm fine."

Her lips thin. "Jonghyuk," she adds, with that same kindness in her voice that made him fall in love all those years ago. "We all saw what happened."

Yoo Jonghyuk looks down, too. He stares at Kyunguk's tail falling limply out of Miteum's mouth. "I have to prepare for what comes next," he tells her. "You should get some sleep too while you can."

He walks past her in the narrow corridor, intent on nothing more than to rejoining his room and sleeping for as long as he can.

Anger spikes through him before he can take the third step; it comes from Miteum.

Yoo Jonghyuk turns on his heels just in time to see Lee Seolhwa's outstretched hand closing where a second ago the wolf stood. Were it not for the rat she is holding so preciously, Miteum would be baring her fangs, and Yoo Jonghyuk feels the need through his own blood and bones. He clenches his teeth in fury.

"What do you think you're doing?" he snaps.

Lee Seolhwa wears a complicated expression. Dal has circled around her front again as if to make a barrier out of his white body, his red eyes fixed onto him and his tongue scenting the air for violence.

Seolhwa takes her hand back slowly. The smile that stretches her lips is joyless. Resigned. "I was wondering if perhaps things had changed," she says. "But I see I was mistaken. I'm sorry for not asking."

Some of Jonghyuk's anger abates. "Seolhwa," he murmurs, but she shakes her head at him.

"I am indebted to Kim Dokja-ssi," she declares, "though I know he didn't save me for me."

Her words close around him like the bars of a prison cell. Part of him feels, all of a sudden, like the Yoo Jonghyuk of the first day; standing in a bloodied train with bile and blood in his mouth.

"I know he saved me for you," she says. Her pale eyes shine with determination. "And I thank him for it. He must know that you and I were together, that we—"

She swallows, grief twisting over her face and inside Yoo Jonghyuk's entrails. He wishes he didn't know what she is mourning now.

He wishes he could not remember the weight of a child in his hands.

"But this life," she says, blinking quickly under the hallway light. "This life isn't for me, is it."

She moves before he can answer. This time Miteum makes no attempt to avoid her, and she does not try to touch, either; her hand simply rests for a second on Yoo Jonghyuk's shoulder. Dal brushes against his hip as his hold around her tightens.

"Sleep well."

Morning finds them smelling of freedom. They can't help it despite the paranoia that the scenario cultivates, the knowledge that they are never, really, out of danger. Yoo Jonghyuk wakes to the smell of coffee and the sound of conversation filtering in from under his door. He knows that more press and attention awaits on the threshold of this borrowed house. He knows that whatever smiles the others will have put on will pale as the days go and their time of respite grows smaller. He knows the children will bear red eyes from crying.

Miteum slept next to him with Kyunguk nestled against her warm side. She looks at him as he sits up and takes in the state of the rat dæmon; he is shaking still, through the tremors have lessened, and patches of his once-glistening fur have fallen off of him. He hasn't regained consciousness.

But he lives. And so does Kim Dokja.

Yoo Jonghyuk does not expect that he would be able to talk to him even if he was awake. He has never seen Kyunguk speak at all, not even to Kim Dokja. The only reason he knows his name is because Kim Dokja introduced the both of them on that day at the bridge.

"Will he need food?" he asks Miteum.

Dæmons do not eat to survive that he knows of. He isn't sure about a separated dæmon, however. It is hard enough looking at Kyunguk without feeling the need to hurl, Yoo Jonghyuk has no wish to see him vanish under his very nose—to picture Kim Dokja walking alone, wherever he is now, with half of his self missing.

Instead of answering, Miteum leans forward and nuzzles his hand.

Each of his heartbeats is an ache. The pain of it feels warm, feels alive, echoing through his chest and clogging in his throat. Jonghyuk treads his fingers through Miteum's fur to ignore how they shake, and then he pulls them off of her. He rests them on Kyunguk's side. He presses the full of his palm against the rat's soft belly, strokes his throat, runs a thumb over his back.

Miteum's rough tongue wets his hand and flattens the small dæmon's twitching ears.

Under their touch, Kyunguk's breaths ease.

#orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #dokhyuk #kim dokja #yoo jonghyuk #fic: wait #featured

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dalekofchaos · 5 years

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Ways I would change Solo

My other Star Wars changes

Prequels

The Clone Wars and Rebels

Original Trilogy

Sequels

Rogue One

Solo wasn’t really a bad movie, I think it is a fun movie with great potential. The problem is they focused more on the future and not in the now, a movie about Han Solo does not focus on Han Solo and it’s not necessary at all and the story is very forgettable, and it really is just a cash grab. There is nothing remarkable about the movie and the only two characters who stand out as 100% only enjoyable to me are Enfys Nest and Chewie. The rest of the characters just feel like unnecessary adds or barley passable imitations. So these are ways I would change Solo to make it a great movie

Make the movie about Han. It focused too much on other characters that don’t matter. Solo suffers from the fact that it really isn’t an origin movie about Han, but rather a movie about how he got his stuff. Which I think is in part because Lucasfilm planned to make Solo a trilogy till it completely and utterly failed at the box office and became the most financially disappointing Star Wars movie in all of the franchise’s history. It focused too much on Qi’Ra, Beckett and L3. The movie should have been about Han. from the streets, to Imperial and to Scoundrel. The movie should have been focused on Han and his relationships with Chewie and Lando. Showing Han leaving the Imperials for freeing Chewie and the two of them work together from that day. Putting a greater emphasis on Lando would have been a smart move since he’s returning in IX, and adding Jabba and Boba mention would have made sense since Lucasfilm had really wanted to do a Boba Fett movie and testing the wasters in Solo would had been better than adding that random cameo with Darth Maul, a character who literally couldn’t have anything less to do with Han or the OT. Why is Darth Maul in a movie about Han Solo? I really feel like they should not have brought Maul back in Solo. He had his return in The Clone Wars and he got his final death in Rebels. Bringing back Maul was dumb. The majority of casual audiences do not know Maul survived TPM, they just shoehorned Maul in for sequel bait and nostalgia. The problem is they focused on the future instead of focusing on their movie.When it comes to Solo, Maul shouldn’t even be there. Han does not believe in the force and believes a lightsaber is a ancient weapon from archaic times and all he needs is a good blaster. From Han himself “I’ve never seen anything to make me believe there’s one all powerful force controlling everything.” I really feel like no one on board understood Han Solo as a character and their inability to make a Han Solo movie about Han or any aspect of Han’s character is what ultimately failed the movie.

Make it a mix between Ocean’s 11 and The Good The Bad And The Ugly. The original trilogy was influenced by Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. Rogue One is a Dirty Dozen type war movie. Solo’s problem is it’s just a movie. An easy fix is to make it a heist film first and then make it a space western. Solo turned into a heist film about 45 minutes into the film. Until then you just had Ehrenreich bouncing around doing stuff. It wasn’t boring but we wasted so much time with him enlisting in the empire, joining Beckett’s gang, having Beckett’s gang die, owing Beckett a favour, meeting his long lost lover and then we finally have our plot. There’s definitely a better way to get the gang together than the convoluted way we got. 20 minutes in, we should know exactly what the stakes are for the rest of the movie.

Han Solo picks his own name. Han is a rebel without a cause. He doesn’t care where he came from, so a random Imperial Officer should not be given Solo his last name. This is Han’s story, he should tell the officer that he’s Han Solo. Han not calling himself Solo was a really bad sign.

Give Han’s original Legends Backstory and how he met Chewie. Han wanting to escape his life in the gang works better in Legends and while I don’t see anything wrong with his bond with Qi’Ra, I just felt like it was really dumb for Han to want to go back to Corellia for her and just see her 20 minutes later. Show his Imperial career more. Have him be revealed as an Ace Tie Pilot, but something changed all that, Chewie. I strongly feel like Legends Han meeting Chewie was more impactful and emotional than what we got in the actual movie. Han saving Chewie from being executed by his Imperial superiors is better than Han being thrown into a pit and speaking Shyriiwook.

More Lando. Basically focus more on Han and Lando’s friendship and surprise everyone by basically pull a Jack Harkness and have Lando kiss Han and Qi'Ra simultaneously. Show us why Han and Lando have a strong friendship, show don’t tell. Have Han and Lando being smugglers in arms. And finally Lando would not leave he would patch himself up and return to help Han in the end. We really needed to see why Han sees so much reverence in his friendship to Lando in ESB. What we got from Solo makes Lando’s betrayal unsurprising. We needed to see why Lando was willing to sacrifice an old friendship to save Bespin from the Imperials, the emotional weight of Han and Lando’s friendship wasn’t there in the movie, it needed to be there so their relationship friendship should’ve been one of the core elements of the movie.

Make Han and Qi'Ra just platonic and childhood friends. I didn’t like the romance and thought Han and Qi'Ra just worked as childhood friends. It really rubbed me the wrong way that Han’s first instinct when seeing Qi'Ra again was wanting to make out with her…when Qi'Ra has been abused by Vos for years and Qi’Ra was uncomfortable about it in Lando’s cape closet. It would be more tragic imo if being betrayed by Qi'Ra that she just wants to kill to the top and stay ahead of the food chain at the cost of old attachments, which this would help turn Han into the cold smuggler we know from ANH

Take out that god-awful “I’m not saying that full name” line Cause Han calls him Chewie and not Chewbacca! Get it? It’s one syllable in the difference. Out of all the connections in the movie, that is the very worst.

Beckett is killed instead of Val. Val was rather mistrustful and skeptical of Han, imagine if only Val, Han and Chewie made it out alive. Val would have no choice BUT to stick with Han and she would grow to trust him, Beckett was a boring character and we all saw his betrayal coming. You could’ve easily changed places with Beckett. But Val would not betray the gang. Val would’ve joined Enfys Nest, while Qi’Ra would’ve been the one to betray Han and co.

L3-37 stays on the slave planet by choice. A minor one but after L3-37 liberates the droids, I think it’d work better if she stayed on the planet to live among her “people”. Her whole shtick was she didn’t like being a slave, there was no logical way she’d get back on the Falcon after freeing all the droid so they had to kill her off. A less cheap and more rewarding pay-off would be she tells Lando she’s staying. They hug, have a moment and she gets to finish her arc. Too many characters die in this film just so the plot can progress (Okay 3, but that’s 3 more than you have to kill). Sure this means you lose the connection in A New Hope where C3-PO mentions the Falcon’s odd dialect but I think we can manage without it. Also, now Han gets to do the Kessel run without any droid help. It shows he’s a great pilot and has what it takes. That’s kinda what we needed to see.

Qi'Ra and Aurra Sing would be partners and lovers. One of the most deadly bounty hunters during the Clone Wars is fridged for Beckett’s reputation. She doesn’t even get a dignified death, not even on screen. Not even a duel. She is pushed to her death. So instead of that bullshit, Aurra would be Qi'Ra’s right hand and lover and together they would kill Vos together.

Make Dryden Vos more of a legit threatening villain. Paul Bettany used to play really fucking evil gangster characters and that’s what I was hoping Dryden was going to be playing, but he was barely there. Make him cruel, and a clear danger. Prior to the meeting, show him execute an underling for insubordination and have him say “sorry for the mess” imply his abusive relationship with Qi’Ra and show that Qi’Ra wants out, but not in the way Han might think. She wants to kill Vos and take power for herself! And make his death at the hands of Qi'Ra and Sing mean something. Show that Sing is sick and tired of seeing Qi’Ra be hurt by that scum and will say “the Crimson Dawn would be better in your hands, just say the word and he dies” Qi’Ra would say “when the time is right, my pet”

When the betrayal happens, Aurra Sing leads the Crimson Dawn to attack The Marauders, so we get a climatic scene of Enfys Nest fighting Aurra Sing, while Han and Lando deal with Vos, however when Qi’Ra’s betrayal is revealed, show Qi’Ra killing Vos and leaving Han and Lando to fend for themselves against Crimson Dawn forces. Han and Lando fight them off and Han goes after Qi’Ra and Chewie.

Han would face Qi’Ra. Qi’Ra will boast that Han is too emotional and too good deep down inside and that he doesn’t have what it takes and this was never about him and finally before Qi’Ra can pull out her blaster, Han shoots first. This would be a way of letting the past go and Han embracing his scoundrel ways.

Han’s farewell with Enfys remains the same, but Han also bids farewell to Val to thank her for everything, but Val thanks Han for letting her see to let go of her hatred as she learned that Enfys was just a child and knew that Becket allowed his greed and hatred lead him to his death.

Val would contact L3 and together with Enfys Nest and L3, Val would be a big help to the Rebellion

Han and Lando play one last game of Sabacc and Han wins, thus winning him the Falcon and Han and Lando part off as friends.

Solo ends similar to how it ended with Han and Chewie flying off in the Falcon with a hint to his future with the Hutt Cartel and his rivalry with Boba Fett, thus giving a sign for sequels without making the movie built on sequel baiting.

#Anti Solo #Solo A Star Wars Story #Star Wars #My Changes #Han Solo #Lando Calrissian #Chewbacca #Solorissian #Qi'Ra #Enfys Nest #Val #L3 37 #Aurra Sing #Dryden Vos

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bookishreviewsblog · 5 years

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Marie Lu: Wildcard (Warcross #2)

Emika Chen barely made it out of the Warcross Championships alive. Now that she knows the truth behind Hideo's new NeuroLink algorithm, she can no longer trust the one person she's always looked up to, who she once thought was on her side. Determined to put a stop to Hideo's grim plans, Emika and the Phoenix Riders band together, only to find a new threat lurking on the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. Someone's put a bounty on Emika's head, and her sole chance for survival lies with Zero and the Blackcoats, his ruthless crew. But Emika soon learns that Zero isn't all that he seems--and his protection comes at a price. Caught in a web of betrayal, with the future of free will at risk, just how far will Emika go to take down the man she loves?

Lara｜★★★★☆

“Everything became amazing; then, everything turned awful. Life is always like that - you don't know when you'll suddenly claw your way out of your circumstances, or when you'll go crashing back down into them.”

After reading Warcross couple of weeks ago I was really excited for the release of Wildcard, and I was not disappointed. Plot and the story itself took a bit different path than I expected them to, but I still enjoyed this amazing book full of surprises and plot twists.

Plot picks up right where ended. Emika knows everything about Hideo’s plan to control entire human race with NeuroLink lenses and decides she wants to stop him. But people who are far more dangerous also want to get their hands on Hideo’s algorithm. While blurry past of Tanaka family is slowly unravelling, Emika needs to keep her head cool and learn to differ ally from enemy in order to survive.

I liked this book a lot, but I still don’t know how to rate it. While I liked some things that were different from Warcross, those things were also something I missed. Probably sounds confusing, but those who read book will notice the course of the story itself as well as insight in some characters has changed a lot. For me that is a good thing, to see other sides of the story and meet more amazing characters. But on the other hand, characters I fell in love with were kind of sided and there wasn’t any Warcross-ing at all (which is shame because scenes where characters played it were usually my favorite).Plot was little less focused on Warcross and even Emika’s programming and hacking. Wildcard was more focused on Hideo and Sasuke’s past and relationships. I always like a good plot twist and uncovering of the story- which is exactly what this book has given us. There is a lot of plot twists and characters wrestling with their pasts and mistakes, but the plot itself is really slow-paced. There isn’t any kind of action until, like, 60% of the book. It is just my personal feeling, but I find it would be much more dynamic and interesting if Lu inserted a few Warcross games in that introductory part.

“Every problem has a solution. But after every solution, there's a new problem to tackle, some new challenge to take on.”

Despite the slowness of the plot this book was so easy to read. Marie Lu’s writing style is one of the best things ever to exist. Narrative and dialogues flow so naturally and even when the plot itself is boring and undynamic it is just so simple to continue and read without stopping for hours. Descriptions of Tokyo and technology is detailed and picturesquely, with no place for confusion. Everything is described in such a simple, but still understandable way that I could picture every single place and situation Lu was writing.

I really liked the characters part. There were some new characters introduced, like Jax, and other characters were thoroughly developed. Jax and Sasuke’s story was amazing, and, even though their story wasn’t told from their perspective, it felt like they were main characters in the story.

I liked Emika, but she was a bit bland. Plain. I missed Warcross Emika with her hacking and kicking everyone’s asses in Warcross. There wasn’t much she has done for the first 70% of the book except being everyone’s pawn. Only in the last few chapters, that were really intense and full of action, did she start taking matters in her own hands (tbh that was the only part where I remembered why I loved her so much). Except for that last part, she was more like an observer in the story and I felt like it could have been told from anyone’s perspective (Jax’s maybe…).

“That's the difference between the real and the virtual. Reality is where you can lose the ones you love. Reality is the place where you can feel the cracks in your heart.”

I specifically like these series because it is a duology. I don’t know many YA series that are duologies and I always like reading them. Ending was bitter-sweet, well, maybe more sweet than bitter, but I felt really emotional because even though I read Warcross recently it felt like an astonishing journey.

I would definitely recommend these books to all science fiction and video games enthusiasts. First book is definitely a 5 star read and there are a lot of different opinions on Wildcard, but I personally loved it. They’re short, easy to read and worth spending your time enjoying them.

Having finished Warcross about a month before Wildcardwas set to come out, I was pretty hyped about its release and couldn’t wait to finally get my hands on it. I have to admit that I was a little skeptical at first, especially after seeing many negative reviews from some of my favourite Goodreads reviewers, but as soon as I started reading I realized that I needn’t have worried- I was definitely far from disappointed.

I see where all the negative reviews are coming from though. Wildcard was in some aspects quite different than Warcross and whether one would like it or not really depends on what was it they liked about Warcross in the first place. For me I guess it just hit the spot.

“We fight for survival with everything we’ve got, as if the oxygen mask and the seat belt and avoidance of a square of chocolate cake might be the thing that saves us. That’s the difference between the real and the virtual. Reality is where you can lose the ones you love. Reality is the place where you can feel the cracks in your heart.”

Lina｜★★★★★

The action kicks off shortly after where Warcross ended, *Warcross spoilers!* with Emika and the Phoenix Riders trying to find a way to stop Hideo’s algorithm and a rematch of the final game being held. She is contacted by Zero and the mysterious Blackcoats, who claim to have the same goals at stopping Hideo. But the deeper Emika digs, the more she realizes nothing is as it seems, and she can trust no one, maybe not even herself.

Unlike Warcross, Wildcard was somewhat less centered around Emika, despite still being told from her point of view. She is still the one gathering clues and pursuing the truth, but we see much less of both her bounty hunting and hacking skills and, as some of the other reviewers mentioned as well, sometimes it felt as if literally anyone could’ve been the narrator instead without it having much of a consequence to the way things played out. While I partly agree, I can’t say that I minded it at all. I’m sick and tired of “special snowflakes” and “the chosen ones” in YA novels, protagonists who are “the only one who could [do a certain thing]” (sure, that worked in some books, but that doesn’t mean that it should happen in every single book). I found it refreshing that Emika was just a girl who found herself in an unexpected situation and then tried to do her best to fix things. She wasn’t perfect, sometimes she acted stupidly and made mistakes, but ultimately she was human.

“I’m walking a tightrope between Hideo and Zero, the algorithm and the Blackcoats. And I have to be very careful not to slip.”

While most of the old characters made an appearance (mainly, the Phoenix Riders), some new characters have been introduced as well. My favourite by far were Zero and Jax- each of them was well developed on their own, Zero as an enigma and a mix of the person he could have been and what others made him become, and Jax as a badass assassin with an agenda on her own. (Trying not to spoil anything.) Zero’s backstory and his relationship with Jax made my heart break multiple times and left me a mushy emotional mess afterwards.

“The girl he’d once loved, the one he’d given up his freedom to protect.”

As for the Riders, I was happy to see that they still played a pretty important role in this book and that we got to find out more about them, although there are still some things I would like to know about them.

The plot was a bit slower paced though, and there were less action scenes throughout the book since the better part of it was dedicated to uncovering Zero’s past and Emika balancing between Hideo and the Blackcoats, but the ending was worth the wait. Marie Lu really knows how to write action scenes and in the last quarter I simply couldn't make myself to put the book down.

Since this is the last book in this duology, the ending felt, well, final. I was really sorry when I realised there will be no more works in this series, but the more I think about it the more I realize everything has already been said and to add another book would probably just ruin an otherwise amazing series. I do at least hope for an epilogue-ish novella someday, maybe even something to aknowledge the connection between Asher and Day from the Legend Series.

#marie lu #warcross #wildcard #emika chen #hideo tanaka #sasuke tanaka #zero #legend #phoenix riders #ya #sci-fi #fantasy #book review #booksihblog

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seducing-mr-perfect · 6 years

Text

Like A Bullet to the Heart (Robin x Min-June)

Pairing: Robin Heiden x Kim Min June

Movie: Seducing Mr Perfect/Mr Robin Kkosigi

Summary: Somehow, the words that hurt the most almost always make their way back to you. Set after the bar scene and June’s conversation with her father. Features June’s nightmare which involves her three ex-boyfriends.

Note: Since we’re never told what the other two men were called, I took the liberty of naming them myself, as well as Robin’s ex.

–

You bastard.

Surprising how easily the words come to her now, when he’s just a picture trapped in a frame - all smiling and bespectacled and sipping beer from behind her, his eyes only on her, even when they were just posing. It’s always been this way with Ju-hyeoung. She’d have the choicest words to fling his way in the privacy of her bedroom, but in front of the man she was a confused, stuttering mess.

Even today. She should’ve ended it in sass and style, strutting away from him like a queen. She should’ve been the one to end things. Should’ve given him a kick in the shins - or higher. definitely higher - while she was at it. What did she do instead? She begged.

Come home, Ju-yeoung. Please. You can’t leave me like this.

What hadn’t she done right? Hadn’t she said all the right words, done all the right things? Made herself different from every other girl he’d ever known (those greedy, gold-digging bitches, always looking out to suck a man’s paycheck dry, he’d complain), paying her own way, buying her own things? Dressed up the way he wanted her to, had sex the way he wanted her to, worried and loved and cared the way he wanted her to?

She almost wants to pick up that goddamn phone and force him to explain. To hell with “don’t contact me again”.

She’s almost about to do it, when a low, familiar chuckle stops her.

She turns around. Closes her eyes. Opens them, closes them again. Perhaps if she does this often enough the sight before her will seem less real?

Jae-won perched on her bed. Min-ho in his slate-grey suit, standing next to her bedside table (you’d better not topple over my favourite lamp, Min-ho, or I swear to God…). Ju-hyeoung lording it over her treasured armchair, as if he owned the damn thing. All of them staring back at her, amusement and judgement glimmering in equal parts from their eyes.

Jae-won still hasn’t stopped laughing. After all these years he’s still all bravado and bluster and bad-boy leather jackets bought with HER goddamn money. Why did I like you? Because you’re nice. Why did I stop liking you? Because you’re nice. You see, nice people get boring after a while.

Min-ho shuffles his feet uncomfortably from his place at the back of her room, his suit hanging over his frame like an overcoat on top of a mouse. He’d always insisted on wearing it, even if it was three sizes too big for him. When did I ask you for an allowance? (Three months before this conversation) Getting meals from you is embarrassing enough (but that never stopped you from asking, asshole!) Who do you think you are, my mother? (I was perfectly content being your girlfriend. Not my fault you turned into the worst kind of manbaby instead)

Ju-hyeoung’s eyes are black coal, cold and lifeless, but the words he says still sting. She isn’t sure if it’s because of the eerie calm with which he delivers them, or the fact that she’d heard them from him just a few hours ago. Give me some space. You’re the one who made me do this. (Stop asking for space while you’re sitting in my bedroom like you own it then!)

They’re almost three feet away from her but she can almost feel their breath on her neck. Her room is hot, too hot, with too little air and she’s suffocating. Can’t…breathe…need…to…leave…

Her feet are lead but she manages, inch by inch, to move towards the door. And stops.

It’s him.

Min-june prides herself on being slightly taller than the average woman in the office, and since Mr Heiden has arrived they’ve commented more than once how even without heels she reaches as high as his chin.

It makes no difference tonight. In this moment, blocking her way out the door and pushing her back to her room and bitter reality, he towers over her: tall and terrifying, a black hole threatening to suck out every tiny ounce of faith she has left in love.

You’ll always be treated like trash by men. Like a showgirl.

She wants to bar his entry, to push him out, get him as far away from her room as she can. But her feet act like they don’t even belong to her anymore. With every step forward he takes, they move back, granting him access.

And then you will grow old. All by yourself.

The other men stand up too, advancing towards her. Closing in on her, creating a fortress of misery and betrayal and bad intentions. Their whispers form invisible chains around her, so she has no space to move, no space to breathe. She looks to Mr. Heiden for help, but he has her trapped too.

All by yourself.

She wakes up in a cold sweat. Slowly, slowly, her eyes adjust to the darkness, noting with a heady relief that she is the only person in the room. No men. No horrible boyfriends. No Mr. Heiden. She is alone.

Only his words, ringing through the deafening silence in her house. Make me beg for you.

It’s been five hours. Five hours, and those words stick to like gum to a shoe - only letting go in bits and pieces. She’s as flushed with anger now as she was when she first heard them, so much so that she has to remind herself to breathe. In…out. In…out.

If there is a peculiar warmth settling in her belly when she hears those words in his voice, she won’t quite admit it. Not yet.

Her eyes glimmer brimstone and steel in the night. Manipulation and power-play and games…is that what he wants? Then she’ll make sure he will regret the day he asked.

“Just you wait, Robin Heiden,” she whispers, still catching her breath, “I’m going to make you beg to me. On your knees.”

Mr Heiden wants this to be a game? She will give him more than he bargained for.

She will give him war.

–

Late nights aren’t new to Robin Heiden. He’s been known to go for days on end with just three hours of sleep some months, surviving on nothing but adrenaline and coffee and sheer grit. It’s what’s gotten him this far.

He’s always been a man of extremes. Either he’ll spend the whole night buried in work - looking more rested than ever the next morning - or he’ll crash as soon as his head hits the bed. Disturbed sleep, random waking moments, scattered dreams that he can’t seem to remember the next day…none of this has happened for a while. Not for the last ten years.

In fact he isn’t quite sure when he last had dreams at all.

Not until tonight.

He’s twenty-one here, all long legs and messy hair and gangly frame. He’s lying on a picnic mat with a girl on his arm, counting stars. They locking gazes from time to time and share earphones, mouthing the lyrics of an old Queen song, and the space between them is so miniscule an ant could either give up walking through the gap, or die trying. His fingers gently tap the song’s rhythm on her hand as she sings.

Open up your mind and let me step inside

Rest your weary head and let your heart decide

It’s so easy

when you know the rules

It’s so easy,

All you have to do

is fall in love

Play the game, everybody play the game

of love

He imagines kneeling before her in this very lawn, his shins sinking into the mud and the grass as he holds out a ring. He imagines a single diamond, shimmering like teardrop in the moonlight. He imagines her in a pretty floral dress and tiny, perfect pearls - the kind she loves, the kind he hopes to gift her one day. He imagines she will hold out her hand. Her eyes glimmering as he says the words. Nadine Spencer, will you marry me?

He knows what everyone else will say. They’re too young. Too different. He’s too much of a dreamer, she’s too much of a realist.They’ve got futures, careers, whole lives ahead of them. Neither of them know what they want yet.

Still. He dares to hope.

He imagines she will say yes.

Click.

They’re twenty-two and joined at the hip, people say. Robin and Nadine, together everywhere, his friends at Harvard say. But only his. Hers’, he hasn’t even met in the three years they’ve been together, and he’s resigned himself to the possibility that he never will.

Still. He tells her he loves her every chance he gets. Tells her he worries about her, everyday. Cares for her when she’s sick. His friends have begun calling him mother hen.

He loves being with her, he tells her one day. He just doesn’t like being hidden away like her little secret. He wants desperately to meet everyone, to experience her family and upbringing and friends and life, to get know her better. He wants her to be proud of him, to puff up her chest when she introduces him to the people she loves, and yes, yes Nadine, of course he knows he’s not quite there yet. She’s told him so enough times, of course she would, isn’t it the truth? She’s told him to establish himself in the meantime, to wait for when things were just right.

He’s willing to wait forever if that’s what it takes.

Click

They’re twenty-three and in a club now, waving away the coloured smoke and squinting at the bright lights ahead. He wonders if it was a mistake, bringing her here. Nothing he does seems to make her happy anymore. The local bookstore doesn’t stock up on the things she likes, the gift shop is tacky, the park offers her nothing but ducks in a pond swimming all day and the nightclub has drinks that taste like floor cleaner. When he points out that she’s had three refills of the same drink so he’s sure it can't be all that bad, she dumps the rest of it on him. Great. It took me ages to pick out this suit and now it’s ruined. He feels terrible and awful and petty for thinking such superficial things after he’s practically ruined her night.

She sets the drink on the table, declaring she has had enough. Complaining that she’s tired of paying for everything, everywhere, Robin who else are you spending your money on if you have none left for me.

He’s taken out his credit card before she’s even begun speaking, and a whole pile of the entire week’s bills - all spent on things Nadine wanted - spills out.

She says nothing. Does nothing.

He picks the bills up and stuffs them back in his wallet as if nothing has happened.

Click.

They’re twenty-four and by now he’s learned to listen for sounds. For the click-clack of her heels on linoleum floor, marking her territory. For the slow dangerous rise of her tone, indicating he’s done something wrong. For the china that he’s now kept on the topmost shelf in case she’s in a bad mood. For the taste of fear, heavy and sour and acrid on his tongue. For the times he’s unable to tell anyone else how this feels because she doesn’t hit, she doesn’t attack, she doesn’t insult. She just slowly chips away at his self-confidence, one word as a time.

Yes, Nadine, I’m pathetic. Yes, Nadine, you lowered your standards to be with me. No, Nadine, I never did have a lot of self-respect to begin with. No, Nadine, you’ve never had to say these things to me. I understand anyway.

For the sweeter moments, when she almost lulls him into forgetting what life with her has become. And he almost believes things will get better.

He almost believes he will give her that ring one day.

Click.

He’s twenty five and he doesn’t know where he stands with her. Not after she’s thrown him out of their home and her life, not after he has seen her with another man. Not after she has gone away from him, and returned, and gone again, and returned, telling him she’s missed him each time. Not after she has told everyone she knows about the stalker ex-boyfriend who won’t take no for an answer. He says nothing because no one has ever really believed him before, so how would this be any different? The only person who seems to think any differently is his best friend Jennifer, and he’s already heard the rumours doing the rounds about the two of them. Great, Jen quips, so now they can’t decide if you’re a clingy bastard or a raging Lothario.

Still. There are days she comes back. Acts like she did in the old days. But he’s never sure when that will change and the prospect of seeing her go back to hating him again makes almost wish she would just hate him and leave it at that, instead of dangling him on a thread like this. It’s a dizzying rollercoaster ride of break-up-get-back-break-up-get-back, except this one never seems to stop, and now he feels sick in his stomach and wants to get off but doesn’t know how anymore.

He doesn’t know what a life without her looks like anymore.

Click.

He’s in the same grassy lawn again. They’d agreed to meet here. She said she had something to give him. He told her he has a gift to give her, and brings the promise ring he’d had made for her all those years ago. Keep it, it’s yours, I don’t want to have anything to do with this anymore.

But he doesn't have to. Because for the first time in this twisted relationship, Nadine decides to pass on her gift first.

He smells rather than feels the blood spilling from his chest, soaking his shirt. He registers faintly the sharp click of her heels on gravel as she leaves. So this is how it ends, huh? This is how I end. He half-expects Jennifer to arrive, screaming and crying and administering first aid with trembling hands. But she doesn’t. Not here. It’s someone else altogether.

The woman in front of him right now isn’t Jen. Or Nadine. It’s…

“BAM!” she yells, pointing two fingers to his bloodied chest and yanking them away, “like a bullet straight through the heart, sa jang-nim*. You know the feeling?”

…June.

“BAM,” she strikes again, grinning brightly, her eyes like great big black opals. Shining in the moonlight. Her teeth shine, pearl-like, as she grins. Or is she merely baring them? Is she another hungry lioness, pouncing on her prey instead? BAM. BAM. BAM.

It’s a miracle he doesn’t wake up screaming.

Robin jerks awake at 3 in the morning, his breathing heavy and laboured. It’s been so long since he’s had a nightmare at all that he’s almost afraid it’s real. He runs his hands over his neck, finds it slick with sweat. He looks around. No Nadine. No Jen. No June. No promise rings. No grassy lawn on a sunny day in July. No bloodsoaked mud.

He is in a hotel room in Korea, as far away from Nadine and her mind games as he can get.

Slowly, carefully - so carefully his footsteps can hardly be heard, he’s had enough practice - he makes his way to the bathroom. He doesn’t care how hard he splashes the water on his face, or how much, or how wet half his body has become. All he wants is to forget the last few hours ever happened.

He takes one last look in the mirror before he leaves, taking in the sight his assistant must have been confronted with tonight. A jawline that didn’t know what it meant to relax anymore. Cold eyes, dead eyes, eyes that told you nothing, gave away nothing. A mouth that didn’t know anymore whether to curve into a welcoming smile, or purse itself into thinner, crueller lines. A mouth that spat out uncomfortable truths today - about her, about himself. A voice that hurt her in the softest, calmest tones possible.

But the truth hurts, doesn’t it, he tells himself, if I didn’t hurt her by saying it, someone else would, by doing it.

Funny that on the day he wanted most to help someone, he wound up sounding exactly like Nadine.

Funny how the last words he hears before he returns to bed, don’t belong to Jen, or to Nadine. They belong to June.

What’s wrong with admitting that I love him, huh? What’s wrong with calling him or visiting him if I’m that worried about him? What’s wrong with wanting to give him all I have?

He swallows the sick, cloying, metallic taste in his mouth as he recalls those words. He closes his eyes, then opens them, then closes them again. He knows the answer to June’s question. It lies in an old bullet scar, constant and puckered on the left side of his chest.

Everything, Ms. June, he wishes he could say, Everything.

–

Sa jang-nim: Term of address, mostly used for your boss.

#seducing mr perfect #fanfic #daniel henney #uhm jung hwa #robin x june #robin x minjune #robin x min june #mr robin kkosigi

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katalyna-rose · 7 years

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Poisoned Lies

A direct prequel to A Moment’s Escape

As always, Thema belongs to @thema-sal-shiral and Lyna belongs to me.

The party was boring and frustrating and Thema was showing it. She glowered and slouched and fidgeted. But Lyna kept her serenity firmly in place, smiling and laughing and working the room with her usual ease. Yet it was only long practice and necessity that kept her smiling and happy when the party was for Elgar’nan’s recent victory over the forces of Fen’Harel.

“The cowards didn’t even fight to the last man!” Elgar’nan was saying, swaying with drunkenness as he recounted the tale yet again. He had a slave sitting on his lap and another at his feet, both attractive young women whom Lyna would be purchasing from him as soon as the party ended. He would have already forgotten who they were by then. “We decimated half their force and then they fled into the trees! Didn’t even take an eluvian! They’ll die of the elements before they make it back to whatever hideaway they have.” Lyna struggled not to roll her eyes. She knew about their hidden eluvian network and the fact that every one of Solas’s army was more than capable of living in the wilderness. But that was a difficult thing for one so accustomed to the luxuries of court to accept; Elgar’nan did not remember a time before Arlathan any longer.

“Did you send scouts after them?” Mythal asked, voice overly silky as she glared hard at the two slaves who were rubbing themselves against him. The two women had no choice; they wore Elgar’nan’s Vallaslin and had to do as they were bid regardless of Mythal’s wrath. Lyna would buy them the moment Elgar’nan tired of them.

Elgar’nan snorted. “Of course not. I was not about to lose soldiers to the damn woods!” Mythal sighed in annoyance and Lyna narrowed her eyes on the woman, wondering if her betrayal of imminent. It was becoming increasingly clear that she was more concerned about her husband’s infidelity than their cause.

It was only a short while later that Elgar’nan stood, grabbed the two slaves, and stepped out of the party. Lyna clenched her teeth, wishing she could save them from what was coming, knowing far too intimately what they were facing. But there was nothing she could do until Elgar’nan was finished. She would not have to pay for the two, however; he would believe them dead or simply wouldn’t notice their disappearance. And they would be freed.

“He’s always been a coward, unwilling to sacrifice for the good of the war,” Falon’din declared, waving his glass through the air and conveniently forgetting that he had once fancied the declared traitor. “He always takes the option not to give lives. It’s lost him more battles than it’s won.” He shook his head sadly, also forgetting that it had been Solas’s tactics that had brought him to heel when he waged war for more territory centuries before. Solas was the reason he had been pushed back into his own lands and made to stay there. Then his piercing eyes fell upon Lyna and Thema. “You two knew him best,” he sneered. “Was he always such a coward?” Thema rolled her eyes but Lyna laughed heartily, feeling her soul darken as she did.

“Always,” she confessed, eyes dancing with glee. “If he hadn’t had such a big… talent… we never would have put up with him!” She sat back in her chair, allowing her posture to slouch as she considered the wine in her glass and pursed her lips. “He made many promises he did not keep,” she told them all softly, as though imparting a secret. These words had been carefully thought out, discussed between herself and Thema, but only she could be the one to deliver them convincingly. Thema had mourned the necessity but Lyna had attempted to assure her, yet still she felt her heart screaming in her chest. “He also made many promises that he did keep.”

Dirthamen sat forward, the chance for gossip and juicy secrets piquing his interest. “What promises?” he asked eagerly, leaning on his brother. Falon’din wrapped an arm around the man’s shoulder as all the Evanuris watched her closely. She smiled sadly and it was not feigned; she hated that she had to say this, had to lay this accusation upon her heart, but the others were getting too close. They were watching too carefully for signs of Andruil and Ghilan’nain helping Fen’Harel in some way and she needed to put them off the scent.

“He promised kindness to us at first,” Lyna said in a conspiratorial tone. “He did not deliver. He promised punishments when we did not please him. This he did act upon.”

“But you are as strong as him! Surely you could put him off!” Falon’din scoffed. “There was no need to stay if he treated you poorly!” Mythal’s eyes flashed but Falon’din didn’t notice. Lyna smiled at him and leaned closer, teasing him with a view down her bodice.

“Have you ever grappled with an opponent twice your size who has nullified your magic?” she asked him, voice low and intimate. “I do not recommend doing so. You will not win.” Then she sat back and gulped her wine both for show and for the blessed numbness from the horror of what she was saying. To accuse Solas of the same atrocities she had endured for centuries before taking up Ghilan’nain’s mantle made her feel sick and woozy, but it was a necessary evil to keep herself and Thema hidden among the Evanuris, where they could do the most good. That was what she told herself as she teased the others with vague images of powerless women bent to the will of an evil wolf.

“I apologize,” she finally said as she stood from the table after enduring countless questions about exactly how Fen’Harel had hurt her and responding with implied brutality. “This subject has put off my appetite. I would like to retire for the time being, but I will return before the closing ceremonies.”

“I’ll come with you, vhenan,” Thema said, standing as well. “I won’t let you be alone when you’re not well.” She glared around at the others accusingly, letting them see her displeasure for the sheer volume of questions they’d asked. Though it had been discussed, allowed, it was still awful.

Elgar’nan returned just as Thema and Lyna left, the three of them bowing to each other. Lyna followed Elgar’nan’s trail to a hidden alcove, where the two slaves were curled up in agony and trying to heal each other with shaking hands. They gasped and tried to move away when they saw Andruil and Ghilan’nain approaching.

“Hush, now, be still,” Lyna soothed, sending her magic ahead of her body and washing them both in pain relief. Both relaxed and allowed the two Evanuris closer. Lyna focused on the more gravely injured one first while Thema soothed the other and covered her modesty. Broken bones were easily mended, torn flesh sewn back together, and the woman was healed quickly through the ease of long practice and great power. She sat on the floor, shaking, while Lyna healed her companion.

“What are your names?” Thema asked them. They stared at her in silence for a while.

“I’m Adhlea,” the first to be healed said at last. She had golden hair and a willowy figure, incredibly delicate-looking like a porcelain doll. “That’s Nehnisa.” The other woman was dark-haired but slender and small like her companion.

“Seems like Elgar’nan has a type,” Thema muttered, noticing the similarities between these two slender women and Lyna herself. Lyna only grunted in response, displeased but in agreement.

“Adhlea, Nehnisa, listen to me carefully,” Lyna said in a murmur. She threw up a sound barrier around the four of them so that they would not be overheard. “I know that you have just endured a great injustice because I endured it myself from the very same man. I wish I could have saved you from it but we all would have been killed had I tried. Instead I have come to offer you a way out.” Nehnisa grabbed Adhlea’s hand as they gasped.

“The rumors are true!” she exclaimed on a breath. “You are helping us!”

“As much as we can,” Lyna told them, nodding. “We can get you out and tell you where to go. From there, Solas’s people will find you and take care of you.”

“But what is said about him…” Adhlea protested, brow furrowed. “Better the evil we know!”

Thema snorted and Lyna shook her head. “It is all lies,” she confessed to them, feeling just a little lighter as she told them the truth. “He is a good man. He has always been good to us and he will protect you. You will be free.”

“You’ve heard the whispers,” Nehnisa urged, clutching Adhlea’s hand tightly. “You know the stories. We have to go! I can’t do that again! I can’t be his property anymore, not when there’s another choice!”

“But my sister…” Adhlea protested.

“She can go with you,” Thema told them. Adhlea relaxed. She bit her lip, thinking, then nodded.

“Okay,” she said, and Nehnisa grinned. “What do we have to do?”

The instructions were given, directions to the one of the hidden passages, the path through the eluvians that would take them through three unseen rebel checkpoints before they arrived at the spot where they would be taken in by Solas’s people. The three checkpoints would make sure they weren’t followed, knowingly or otherwise, and alert the others if there was danger as the former slaves passed by. If they were safe, they would be taken in. If they were unknowingly followed the problem would vanish and they would be taken in. If they alerted the guards or any of their masters, everyone who knew would vanish and the hidden passage would be sealed, a different one opened elsewhere. It was brutal, but they could not risk corruption and spies when their goals were so important and so delicate. The two women had been on Lyna’s list of potentials long enough, however, that she was reasonably confident that neither of them would say a word to anyone as they left.

Adhlea and Nehnisa left then, scrambling for what few possessions they had and fetching Adhlea’s sister. Thema and Lyna retreated to their rooms, where Lyna kicked over a small table with enough force to shatter it.

“Vhenan?” Thema murmured, unused to seeing Lyna’s temper.

“I will kill them all,” she whispered furiously, fighting tears and awful memories. Thema wrapped her arms around her and Lyna leaned into her embrace gratefully, but it could not cool her ire.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Thema suggested after a short time. “Let’s drop all the court bullshit and just go! Just for a while, just to escape for a moment.”

Lyna rubbed her face, though it was dry, then nodded. “I spotted some ruins while hunting a few weeks ago that I wanted to explore.”

“Then let’s go!” Thema urged, already tugging off her court finery.

“We promised to return for the closing ceremonies of the celebration,” Lyna reminded her.

“Fuck that!” Thema cried, and that was all it took. Lyna stripped out of her fine dress and began strapping on her armor, anticipating the thrill and wonder of new ruins to explore, new history to find.

#katalyna writes #thema/lyna/solas #thema-sal-shiral #thema and lyna

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russellthornton · 7 years

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Why Do People Lie in Relationships? 10 Common Reasons Why We Fib

Relationships can be frustrating when the person you’re dating lies. So why do people lie in relationships? Here are 10 of the most common reasons.

If everybody lies and nobody likes being lied to, then why do people lie in relationships? Whether it’s a little white lie or an earth-shattering secret, lies will happen between you and your romantic partner—and it sucks.

Is lying so deeply ingrained in people that they don’t know they do it? One study shows that 60% of adults can’t go 10 minutes without telling a lie. Granted, the lies were trivial in nature, but then why tell them at all? Researchers reveal even the participants were shocked at how many fibs they told when they watched a video playback of their conversation.

Why do people lie in relationships? Is there ever a good reason to? We’re looking at the truth behind deception in relationships.

Common relationship lies

White lies are not even close to the same thing as lies of betrayal. In fact, some couples prefer to have little white lies in their relationships because it makes life easier. Why? When it comes to small, common lies, people would rather not know what others really think about them.

Even the most honest person probably agrees that while you shouldn’t lie, you shouldn’t always speak the truth, either. Sometimes it’s just nice to sit in a quiet middle ground and enjoy your happy relationship.

Lies like “I don’t watch porn” or “I’ve never been bored in our relationship” aren’t nice to hear, but they aren’t exactly earth-shattering. [Read: Decoding your dude – Why do men lie, and what you can do about it?]

Relationships are like roller coasters. They have their ups and downs and these twists and turns last the entire relationship. At one point or another, everyone is going to be bored of their partner. It’s what you do when you’re bored that makes the difference.

So, if you’re bored in your relationship and let it pass, do you have to purposely hurt your partner’s feelings by telling them you were tired of their company for a time? How about nah. [Read: 8 lies we tell when our relationship is going downhill]

Why do people lie?

People lie all the time from things big to small. Now that we know the difference between a harmless fib and a soul-crushing confession, it’s time to learn why people lie in the first place. Here are the most common reasons.

#1 Because they’re cheating. Academic survey researcher Tom Smith reports 15%-18% of married couples have affairs during their marriage.

With the digital footprints we all leave behind us in the digital snow it’s pretty hard to get away with cheating these days. Even if your partner finds out months after you start, they’re going to find out eventually. Still, cheating is one of the biggest and most devastating secrets in a relationship.

Being betrayed by someone you love is one of the biggest hurdles anyone ever faces in life. Lies lead to broken families, loss of income, and loss of trust. And the thing about trust is that it’s easy to give to someone you love, but as soon as you lose it it’s nearly impossible to repair. Even if you really want to. [Read: Ignorance is bliss? The debate on cheating and confessing]

#2 Insecurities. One study done by Scientific American shows that 90% of people lie on their online dating profile. Shocker! People often lie to cover up insecurities they have.

For example, most women lie about their weight on dating profiles. The men lie about their height and how much money they make. You may lie about your job, your education, or your relationship with your family members, all because of some insecurity you hold. [Read: How to spot the liars in an opine dating site]

#3 Avoiding accountability. Remember when you were eight years old, and your mom asked you if you were the one who tracked mud through the house? You say no, but you’re a liar. And apparently, you haven’t learned a thing because one of the top reasons people lie is to avoid accountability.

According to retired psychologist turned TV show host, Dr. Phil, this is usually a train of males. Men lie to escape accountability whereas women often lie to make someone feel better.

So things like “I never said that about you” or “I never spent that money” are little lies to avoid getting into trouble from your little misses. [Read: 8 scenarios when white lies can be your saviors in love]

#4 Money matters. Money is lied about, and most people probably understand why. It isn’t easy to talk about money, especially when you have separate bank accounts. Any woman who’s ever made a trip to Sephora can probably admit she’d rather her mate not see the receipt.

A credit card survey revealed that 6% of participants hide their bank account or credit card statements from their spouse. The survey also showed that one in five thought it was okay to keep a $500 shopping spree from their partners—even going as far as keeping multiple hidden bank accounts from their mates.

#5 To create a more exciting life. Some people thrive on drama, making an exaggerated lie seem more than just a little alluring. People lie about where they’ve traveled, who they’ve slept with, and what celebrity sightings they’ve had all to make themselves seem more interesting.

#6 Lying about family. Why do people lie? Obviously, you haven’t met their families yet! Many people lie about family members to avoid embarrassment or out of protection. Often people lie about parents who have abandoned them, addicts in the family, or they lie about sickness or mental challenges a family member might have. They even lie about the reason why they don’t communicate with family.

#7 To hurt their mate. Spite can be an excellent motivator, especially when it comes to creating hurtful lies. If your mate reveals they share dirty texts with someone else you might be tempted to lie and tell them you’ve been with someone also. Lies about cheating or expressed interest from the opposite sex are common fibs told to purposely hurt your partner. [Read: Revenge sex – My own experience and everything I learned from it]

#8 To avoid hurting their mate. Opposite of the above, many lie to spare their mates feelings, even on trivial matters. “You’re the best I’ve ever had,” “You never annoy me,” and “I don’t fantasize about other people in the sack” are just some of the truths people avoid telling their mates.

For example, if your man’s penis is the smallest you’ve ever been with there’s no reason to reveal this information—unless you’re seeking to crush his ego forever. So when he asks how his measures up, just grin and tell him “You’re the best.”

#9 To protect others. Many people lie to protect both the innocent and the guilty. People may vouch for a friend saying they were with them all night when really their friend was off pursuing some side action.

People lie for friends on job applications, court appearances, passport references, they lie to protect family from scrutiny, or to protect someone’s privacy. [Read: How to stop lying to yourself and your partner]

#10 To manipulate. If your partner doesn’t like a buddy of yours, they may say they came onto them just to cause a rift. This is a form of manipulation that is downright awful. Not only are they disrespecting your friendship, but they are shaming people who really do deal with these problems by crying wolf about them.

People also lie to gain an advantage over someone, such as pretending not to hear about a certain situation just to get one of the involved parties to spill their side to you.

[Read: 6 big lessons I learned from being lied to for 5 years]

So why do people lie? Bottom line, people lie because they can. The good news is that for the most part, you can work through the issues that cause your mate to be dishonest with you. For the rest who refuse to be honest, we say kick ‘em to the curb!

The post Why Do People Lie in Relationships? 10 Common Reasons Why We Fib is the original content of LovePanky - Your Guide to Better Love and Relationships.

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