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feysandfeels · 3 years

Note

I gathered you read the chapter... how are we feeling, any thoughts you might want to share?

There I was, writing on my journal after a decent day at work when this fucking bomb exploded quite literally on my lap. But fear not I am here and we shall discuss until we can make fucking sense of it. Should I even warn you of the length of this post, or are we all on the same “Luisa can’t synthesise for shit” boat now?

I. Azriel

I will start by saying that this does not make me hate Azriel or stop caring for him and wanting what’s best for him. I still do very much love him. This however does not mean I applaud or get behind how he expressed himself during this specially chapter. For me it was quite disturbing to see how he saw Elain merely as a sexual partner and thought that that translated into love. If he had made the distinction between being physically attracted to her and being in love with her, then I don’t think we would all be feeling like we are. Because it is fair to be sexually attracted to someone but not necessarily in love with them.

From what we saw I think we can gather that Azriel knows Mor is not into him and in his grief from all those years being in love he wants something immediate and there. On top of that he sees his brothers settled and feels like he is owed from the cauldron, so of course he starts seeing Elain as the perfect “solution” to his pain. Now, of course Elain (and no one for that matter) should be seen a solution to anything really. Much less he should jump on that boat and already think of her as his. Az, my sweet, possessiveness is not love.

When I first read the chapter something stood out for me, he said he’s envious of his brothers and the emotional stability they both have, the fact that they were both chosen by the ones they love. We know Az loved Mor with all his heart and although she loves him too, it was not corresponded on the same energy since she is well bisexual homoromantic. He, so far, does not feel chosen in that same sense, which only feeds his insecurity of being unworthy.

In his envy he oversimplified things, he saw what both Rhys and Cassian now have and did the simple most stupid math ever: he went Rhys+Feyre = love, Cass+Nesta = love... hummm then If I’m single and Elain is single then it must mean Az+ Elain = love. (Sugar I love you but that is dumb as fuck). This has the same energy of when you are in high school and you let your friends convince you that you are actually into someone when you are really not, but then you buy into it and start believing in it yourself. In this case he was the one who created that push and convinced himself that it was the right thing.

I think so far we can gather a few things of the place Az is at right now: he is feeling extremely lonely, extremely envious and extremely sad. I do not think this excuses his behavior at fucking all, but at least we know where he is coming from. He is clearly mistaking sexual attraction and possessiveness as love. But I do think it all stems from this turbulent place he is at emotionally, not because he is a bad person.

I do not thing he is a bad person for thinking of Elain as he does, because I truly think this is a set up for the growth he will experience. Is it a good look? honey no. But is it a realistic one? I dare say it is. As I said when I read this I got full on high school bull shit vibes, I thought “ohh I’ve seen this film before and I have lived it”. He is being immature and there is no denying. Which was only confirmed with him regifting that necklace... sugar... that was a dick move, very fucking dickish move -specially since it was alluded that they might have feelings for each other–. My man needs to do some emotional growth because yikes.

II. The Narrative

Now, I have said before that for me, Sarah’s strength lies not so much on her world building or the originality of her works (which is not to say that her worlds suck or her narratives are not interesting and offer something new), but it lies more on her characters. To me she has always excelled at creating characters that do exemplify the range of humanity in its good, its bad, and all that’s in between. Even you can look at stuff that your fave did and go “yeah not cool at fucking all”. At least I know I can and I adore almost every character in this series. I love characters not because they are perfect but because I can either relate to them or because they allow me to understand and experience points of view that are alien to my own experience. Sarah has never made characters black and white. Your faves will make mistakes. Feyre has, Rhysand has, Cassian has, Nesta has, Elain has, Lucien has, Mor has and Az has.

What make her books interesting from this perspective is that she says “characters development does not equal character growth”. Take Chaol for example –if you haven’t read ToG do yourself a favor and read it– his character arc is one of the most interesting and best fulfilled ones in that series because we saw him at his lowest, when we couldn’t empathize exactly and he was being an ass, and then we saw him question his problematic behavior and move past it. Character development means just that: that the character move from point a to point b. It doesn’t mean he will be better by the end, but it means movement. Character growth does mean he will hopefully get to a place where they are “good”.

I think she knows exactly what she is doing with Az and with this teaser. Need I remind you of the chaos the bonus chapter in ACOFAS left this fandom in for a solid two years. This got our emotions high and got us one way or another expecting to see where this will all lead. I don’t think any of us were expecting this chapter when it was announced that Az would get a pov.

III. Conclusion

To conclude I just want to reiterate that I don’t support how he’s is behaving. I think I am accepting how he is behaving. Acceptance however does not meant that I am behind it, it means that I accept it and I am willing to stick around to see him grow out of this and realize why this is all so wrong (because well you know I can’t actively engage with him since he is... you know... fictional). I have had moments like this with some of my closest friends irl with whom we’ve had talks about previous behavior and have had the “be fucking better” talk, which is something that Rhys essentially said (GOD BLESS YOU BOO), and is also a sentiment most of us shared, even Feyre, when Rhys forced Mor to face both of her abusers and then didn’t consult her when selling Velaris off to her dad. And to me that is part of what friendship means, it means being there through the growth.

Everyone has their own limits of what they can understand of a character/person. If this is your own then it’s fine, no harm no foul. If this is what makes you jump ship from Elriel (that’s their ship name right?) then hey all good, I’m sorry for your loss.

I am not an Azriel hater, nor I think I will ever be. At least not from the information I have right now. I do still love him and as I have said before I want to see him happy and with a healthy amount of self confidence (and no Azriel saying you could easily kill Lucien is not the healthy self confidence I am talking about). So if anything I am interested in the arc his character will face, we just caught him at a moral low –which to me still has a solid chance of growth–.

I hope this offer some light or whatever. And remember take it easy, it’s okay to feel things deeply but don’t quit in the middle of the war, we still have his book coming up and I am 100% that will enlighten us more.

ANYWAYS, LONG LIVE ELUCIEN BITCHES.

#jesus fuck that was a long one #Azriel #ACOSF spoilers #A Court of Silver Flames #A Court of Silver Flames Spoilers #Sarah J Maas #ACOTAR #ACOMAF #ACOWAR #ACOFAS #ACOSF #Elain Archeron #Inner Circle #Feysandfeelsasks

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emersonfreepress · 3 years

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What would the ro's be like in a zombie au?

whyyyyy anon whyyy. I'm actually gonna write this in like.. slightly different terms, you'll see. any time I even briefly think of a zombie au I'm just like

I WANNA WRITE IT SO BADDD

i don't even allow myself to entertain it for very long because getting into that would be the worst thing ever for my productivity with the alpha omg 😂😂 so I'll put like the ideas that pop into my head for writing a zombie au, to work some of that creative frustration out 😆

so in this very general, absolutely noncommittal idea of mine, the main cast are older and the setting is in and around a civilian settlement led by the Emersons.

and as a refresher, i like my zombie aus to have fast zombies and fast infections ^ ^ 28 Days Later/Train to Busan style babyyyy, we the Sprinting Dead up in this bitch 😆

= = =

Gabe is, predictably, looking for what's left of his family. Following rumors of safe havens and bunkers and such. Starts the story as someone who tries to be diplomatic, if not outright pacifist, but as times get tougher and resources dwindle, he'd become one of the most cutthroat motherfuckers in the wasteland. Low-key though, low-key. People won't trust you if they know you’re capable of throwing them to a horde for strategic reasons. Like if Rick turned into Shane (for those of us familiar with early Walking Dead--idk did that happen eventually? i gave up before we even met Negan lol). The end justifies the means :) Damn, I can legit see Gabe going full evil in a zombie au omg 😂😂 i want to write it so fucking bad

Preferred weapon for zed encounters: rifle

Preferred weapon for human encounters: handgun

Faith in humanity: fucking zero

Zombie kill count: plenty; the type to kill every zombie he has spare ammo and time for

Human kill policy: When it benefits him or the people he’s looking after

Survival rating: B+; he can make it out of some pretty dire situations through sheer will to live and ruthlessness

- - -

Kile has arrived--clearly, this is the timeline they belong in. They start their journey with Gabe (and their doggo) and stick to him like glue, even reluctantly so when Gabe eventually has them join the settlement. This can only go one way, though: Kile's just too much of a wildcard for the group and hates being told what to do. (Especially now that society has fallen, wtf) They'd make their exit alone and unannounced aside from a brief head’s up to Gabe. It's slightly bittersweet, but also? They get to loot and hunt and sneak around and kill fucking zombies, all by themself. Kile is a loner, a hiker, and a hunter to begin with so they do beyond fine on their own. However, once the inevitable violent human threat comes for the settlement, Gabe is sent out to convince Kile to come out of isolation, just this once please, to be the camp’s super soldier help defend the camp.

Zed weapon: p much anything they can get their hands on, ranged or melee, blunt or sharp, w/e; improvised weapons

Human weapon: hunting knife

Faith in humanity: never had any to begin with

Zombie kill count: lol infinite?? any zed they come across is double-dead if they have the time for it

Human kill policy: at Gabe’s direction or when provoked enough/threatened

Survival rating: A-; they trust no one, live in isolation, and prioritize survival above all else. only reason it’s not higher is they would risk their life for Gabe or their furbaby and also... their own Rambo-esque antics def attracts the occasional horde lmao

- - -

Jack... this poor boy, he doesn't deserve a zombie au 😂 He's one of those people that first believes zombies are just sick people, too squeamish to keep up with TV news coverage at the onset and too upset to consider anything else. He'd hunker down at home, staying holed up even while his neighbors evacuated, and probably be discovered while the main group is looting the same place as him. When people try to tell him the real state of the world, he'd be in denial until he absolutely couldn't be anymore. idk, probably after Kile shooting a bunch of non-lethal holes thru a zombie to make a point (attracting more in the process lol).

He’d almost immediately join the medical team at the settlement and as word spreads about how easy he is to talk to, he quickly becomes the literal on-site therapist. It's a role he embraces but... idk if it's an emotional burden he can bear. He's very emotionally resilient! But he ain't a professional lol imagine a whole settlement of traumatized zombie survivors seeking you out for counseling, yikes. He also can't say no to a person in need, so instead he quietly spirals into a very private depression while continuing to help others!!

Zed weapon: Oh gosh, do I really have to?

Human weapon: ...Kindness?

Faith in humanity: Unrealistically high

Zombie kill count: Single digit

Human kill policy: Not ever, unless completely unavoidable and to defend the defenseless

Survival rating: C...? idk, that feels generous. D+. To be protected at all costs!!

- - -

Jessie also had the initial reaction of hoping zombies could be saved, but she woke up from that dream swiftly. The science-minded person that she is, esp with her interest in biology, leaves her determined to find anybody who's got the intellect, expertise, and resources to start doing actual work toward a treatment, cure, vaccine—anything. Nothing would get her to finally unabashedly embrace her love of science (and innate leadership skills!!) faster than a zombie apocalypse! In fact, it’s thanks to her that the Emerson settlement’s got a small but growing team of scientists doing as much research as humanly possible to best educate the others on the outbreak and zombie behavior. Def no zombie experimentation going on though lol. ...Not yet, at least.

Zed weapon: rifle

Human weapon: rifle

Faith in humanity: High! We’ll find a solution! Don’t give up hope!

Zombie kill count: Double digits, but less than 30

Human kill policy: Only in unavoidable self-defense or defense of others

Survival rating: B! She has experience with ranged weapons, farming and gardening skills, first aid, camping experience, and a can-do attitude with a healthy dose of realism!

- - -

Rain remains cargo as I said in the last post about this 😆 They'd be very good for keeping clothes repaired and making useful modifications in the settlement, but their life up to this point has been very sheltered and privileged. We're talking somebody with a chauffeur and a personal chef before the outbreak! They would contribute to quality of life and homemaking efforts more than anything—an overlooked aspect of these scenarios tbh! After as many months of dragging their feet as possible and being nigh impossible to track down when you need them, they eventually become involved in meal planning and even help out with medical stuff if they're asked.

Zed weapon: how do you reload this thing again?

Human weapon: switchblade or other concealable sharp-pointy

Faith in humanity: Very low

Zombie kill count: 0! Can you believe it!

Human kill policy: Well if it’s you or me, of course I’m choosing me.

Survival rating: C. Being so tiny helps them find good hiding spots and their self-preservation is high enough to keep them from unnecessary risk-taking. Plus they're very stealthy! Self-defense is a major issue though, so hiding is always their best option.

- - -

Rupan/Rohan scouts for and leads scavenging missions and is Curt's right hand on the recruitment team. The two of them together are the perfect combo of diplomacy, debate, and deception--although R is more honorable about the last one and will only deceive for strategic reasons. When they aren’t looting and recruiting, they’re doing peacekeeping inside the settlement. Most social disputes end up getting brought to them for mediation and they’re pretty dang good at making and enforcing calls. One day they’ll wake up to realize they’ve basically become a sheriff and feel the need to puke their guts up and do something, anything, to reassure themself they’re still punk 😂

Zed weapon: SMG

Human weapon: shotgun

Faith in humanity: Believes in fundamental goodness but knows better than to trust first impressions

Zombie kill count: decent, more than 40; you won’t catch them having a field day tho, they’re trying to gtfo of most zed situations

Human kill policy: Violent threats have to be taken out. And they aren’t, at all, immune to a revenge rampage either...

Survival rating: B-. Can handle themself both with humans and zeds but is vulnerable to hostage situations and truly difficult sentimental/interpersonal decisions!

- - -

Vivian/Vincent manages inventory and stock and they run it so efficiently it’s scary! They're the perfect pick: a hawk-eyed tyrant and tattletale 😂 Despite constantly butting heads with just about everyone on every imaginable thing, they quickly become an important part of the inner circle of decision-makers for the settlement at large. Terrible at stealth, jumpy, and squeamish at the sight of blood and gore, they literally never go on missions unless they're 100% needed for their expertise on a supply run. (They would deny all of these shortcomings are that big a problem, meanwhile R is definitely acting as their bodyguard lol.) When they do tag along, they're prone to becoming the damsel in distress. Seriously, it happens near every fucking time. It's like they just attract only the most improbable and perilous zombie attacks and hostage situations 😆

Zed weapon: shotgun

Human weapon: handgun

Faith in humanity: Medium; seeing people work together at the settlement helps restore it a bit

Zombie kill count: Double digits, under 25

Human kill policy: Violent threats have to be taken out. Well, no, not by me! Get one of the ruffians to do it!

Survival rating: C-. They’d be higher if they weren’t such natural zombie bait.

- - -

Heidi is running the settlement, well-organized to the degree of actually managing to bring bureaucracy to a post-zombie apocalypse settlement 😂 People are free to come and go, but getting in if you don't live there requires trading something of value (fuel, med supplies, food, etc), temporary surrender and registry of firearms and explosives, and you gotta GTFO at the time and date specified upon entry! You can stay long-term if you contribute to the community in a tangible way—and each person admitted is approved by Heidi personally. Yes, every individual. No, she has no free time. And she is not known to be lenient with rule breakers—you want rule bending, you’ll have to go to Curt for that. People kind of hate her, but it can't be denied that she runs a tight ship. She kind of throws herself into the work to avoid the harsher reality at large and hasn't left the settlement in a long time. She's out of touch with how bad things have gotten in the wastes, but she knows better than to take reports at anything less than face value--even when she's skeptical.

Zed weapon: rifle

Human weapon: handgun; dagger

Faith in humanity: Medium. It fluctuates, honestly

Zombie kill count: Double digits, less than 20

Human kill policy: Violent threats must be taken out if they can’t be reasoned with. Spare those who surrender, eradicate those who don't, keep an eye on the newbies. Not tryin’ to nurse any vendettas around here lol

Survival rating: B. She's good with a firearm, masterful at persuasion, and savvy enough to calculate risks appropriately. Also far tougher than her prim exterior and demeanor suggests!

- - -

Curt leads the recruitment and reconnaissance teams! When a new person or group shows up in the area, Curt's the one who stalks watches them, decides if they're worth approaching, and if they should be approached with an invitation, a simple acknowledgment/announcement of their presence, or an outright armed warning to leave the area. He also keeps tabs on morale and general confidence inside the settlement, alongside R. When he isn’t leading those efforts, though, he’s flirting with settlers and squirreling his way out of manual labor and other chores. He’s also secretly growing weed at his place--don’t tell Heidi or Vi ‘cause they’ll wanna yell at him and ration it UGH.

Zed weapon: SMG, explosives

Human weapon: handgun, dagger

Faith in humanity: Pft, sorry, what now?

Zombie kill count: ...way more than you’d expect

Human kill policy: I don’t start confrontations, but I sure as fuck end them.

Survival rating: A! He’s good at playing hapless idiot when it suits him to be underestimated, good with firearms, and capable of being ruthless and decisive in life or death situations! Plus he has no qualms about ditching the settlement if he decides it’s not working out for him. Just don’t tell Heidi lol

#the rest are under the cuuuut #had to stop myself from writing too much SEVERAL times #love me a zombie apocalypse #lovely anon #answered #ROs #whoops got carried away lol #spent most of my work day finally finishing this ask because VIVA PROCRASTINATION #someone help ._.#phew #feels good to finally get it out of my system tho #now I can promptly never ever write it 😂#AUs #fave #scenarios

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comicreliefmorlock · 3 years

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A Reader’s Guide to Writing: Lesson #2

I... expect to get shot for this.

-sighs and puts on a helmet- Body shots, fine, but I’m trying to avoid taking a headshot for what I’m about to say.

The Constant Reader... does not give a fuck about flat, cardboard-cutout “representation.” We just don’t. In fact, it’s downright insulting to your Readers to assume that labeling your character “insert woke points here” will automatically endear them to us.

(...god I’m going to get in so much trouble for this...)

When I see a book described as “it has two lesbians in it!” or “these characters are transgender!” my immediate and automatic thought is “...okay, but what is the story about? will I give a fuck about these characters?”

And that, right there, is something that can actually carry a weak plot (to a Reader’s mind) or absolutely drag a good plot into “well, I might as well finish reading it.”

Do I give a fuck about your characters?

Now this does not mean your character has to be Wholly Unproblematic or an Adorable Cinnamon Roll, Too Good, Too Pure for This World.

What it means is “do I respond to your character like they’re fleshed out well enough for my brain to read them as a person?”

For Comparison-- Two Characters:

Here’s an example of what is honestly a really well-written character (in a... very... ugh, look, the pervasive racism makes it terrible to read now and I just kind of wince and groan at it and wince even harder knowing how well it was received) because the character has caused Emotion in a Reader.

Scarlett Fucking O’Hara.

I hate her. I’m not even kidding, I just hate this self-absorbed bitch. She drives me nuts. I’d love to yeet her off a literary cliff and watch her drown.

...but I consider her a well-written character because she inspires emotion. I react to her. I legitimately read a page of “Gone With the Wind” (*again, I know, I’m sorry, the book’s slimy feel of ‘but... slavery was good!’ is just... horrific) and I want to grab the nearest heavy object and slam it onto her empty skull. She has obvious flaws--and they’re explicitly spelled out in the text--and those flaws totally fuck up her life. Scarlett doesn’t get what she wants because she is her own worst enemy in a lot of ways. And watching her make decisions based on what She Wants and then dealing with the aftermath feels legitimate. It feels pretty real to watch someone make a decision based on a want only to see them struggle with the result OF that decision. Not to mention the moment of realization that came too late, as let’s be fair, hindsight is 20/20 and a lot of us have had that ‘Ohhhhhhhhhhh...’ moment ourselves.

What Scarlett has a lot of, however, is Emotion. And I don’t mean she has a lot of emotionally wrenching scenes. What I mean is Scarlett is actively driven by or affected by An Emotion at nearly every part of her story, even when that Emotion is just some self-absorbed Glee at how she’s gonna one-up this whole town.

Let me compare my reactions to Miss “I’m So Self-Absorbed I Should Be Taxonomically Classified As A Sponge” O’Hara to a character that I... honestly couldn’t give less than a fuck about, despite having read six whole books she’s the main protagonist of.

Ayla of “Clan of the Cave Bears” Jean Auel fame.

In the first novel, Ayla is... actually kind of interesting. A Homo Sapien child found by Neanderthals and raised in their society, there’s a bit that can be read into just how hard it is to fit into a culture and how sometimes that involves more self-repression than is mentally healthy. And in the second novel, “Valley of the Horses,” all the parts with Ayla before her Male Perfection Love Interest shows up are also fairly interesting.

She’s alone, she’s fighting to survive with only her hard-earned skills to carry her. It’s great!

And then... Jondalar arrives and we see her through His Eyes.

I’m not sure exactly what happened here other than the novels (and Ayla) turn into a constant Display Of How Amazing Ayla Is. Everyone loves her! (And the people that don’t are Obviously Flawed and So Empty Inside.) She can do anything! She invents the needle! Horseback riding! Domesticating dogs! The travois! She’s drop-dead gorgeous, an accomplished healer, wants only to be a Good Wife (it’s a little icky, but considering the time period these books are set in, I give it a pass on that) and is always so confused as to why people seem amazed by her.

She becomes basically a Perfect Woman and to be honest, all her struggles after that just feel like they’re directly tied to how Perfect She Is. Ayla suddenly doesn’t have An Emotion behind her. She’s just a vessel for everyone’s awe that such a “perfect woman” exists. And it just... turns her completely fuckin’ flat.

What I’ve found after doing a LOT of reading is that a Writer should keep one big thing in mind.

(And this goes triple for stories that tote themselves on the representation platform.)

Emotion--the experience of it, the sharing of it, the looking for validation of it--is one of those defining things that make what we’d call the Human Experience.

People who are looking for representation in media are looking for actual representation. For a Person like them on the screen or page. Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to be a teenager struggling with a realization of sexuality, but you can ask people who do. And you can relate YOURSELF to that on some level.

Everyone in the world has had a moment where they’re trying to reconcile something about themselves with what the world expects or with what they expect from themselves. You can take that seed, that memory of sitting in your bedroom and listening to the same song on repeat while thinking wistful thoughts of what life could be like if This Was Different or imagining a future where What You Want is accessible, acceptable and within reach. You can find the Emotion and appeal to it.

I know that the experience of being gay or disabled or neurodivergent or trans or a minority is not universal; everyone has a different life, different experiences, different fears, worries, hopes, dreams.

And I say this in full awareness that someone could very rightly be angry at me for paring off societal issues and cultural problems to make this accessible to writers who may want to write a specific character FIRST and THEN find sensitivity readers to help them refine it*.

There’s a “but” to the whole “different life” thing.

Humans have felt the basic range of emotion across the board, across the world, across time, regardless of where or when or who they are. And a Character that makes you Feel is a character that you can give a fuck about. Pare off the labels and start with the tinest, most concentrated idea of who this person is so you can find their emotions to use in the story. Are they a dreamer? A fighter? A creator? An explorer? What Emotion drives them? Hope? Curiosity? Anger? Sorrow?

Because I personally have seen myself in characters that I have absolutely no surface experience in common with whatsoever, but I responded to the Emotion that drove them because I recognized it. I’d felt it. Maybe what created the Emotion was different (wildly so!) from what created it for me, but I had the Emotion. The character is having the Emotion.

And that makes me give a fuck about the outcome of their story, whether the personality carrying the Emotion makes me want to cut a bitch (fuck you Scarlett) or see them succeed in every aspect of life.

[*You will want sensitivity readers to refine the character because representation should actually represent and not be A Writer Getting Woke Points.]

#A Reader's Guide to Writing #On Writing #Reading is life #Writing is life

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goatsandgangsters · 3 years

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okay okay okay EPISODE 6. I’m still… out of fucking breath. from the last one.

I didn’t plan on live-blogging because then I’d have to keep pausing to type but actually I’m having too much fun, I guess I’m liveblogging now

my posts just keep getting longer and more and more incomprehensible

I forgot to mention in my last one, but it was a really good call to include the whole “west ravka wants to secede” plot line. it adds a lot, politically, and also adds a sense of urgency. whereas the book is a little bit like, the darkling is kind of a dumbass if you think about it because ALL HE HAD TO DO WAS WAIT LIKE 50 MORE YEARS, WHICH IS NOTHING IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS, but now there’s definitely like. political urgency and necessity that the books don’t convey to the same degree.

also adds a lot of dimension to What Happens At The End of The Book. which, I’m not there yet, episode-wise. but liiiiiiiiike.

BEN! BARNES! HAS! THE! RANGE! oh I love that they let him be lovesick and terrifying back-to-back like this, god he’s so fucking good. like, we all knew? we all knew this was a stroke of absolute casting genius? but god I don’t think we were actually capable of realizing To What Degree

oh god Inej looking at Alina I’m gonna CRY I actually got teary-eyed??

poor fedyor. he was planning so many double dates and then darklina had to go and breakup. (side note: I am SO INTRIGUED that the darkling thinks ivan is hilarious, so I just think the two “grumpy one/sunshine one” couples should go on a double date. get ravkan ice cream. why can’t this family ever have a funky fresh good time)

“I’ll never let go, helvar”

yo, real talk, why’s the darkling’s bed so short. dOES HE SLEEP WITH HIS LEGS DANGLING OFF THE END. this furniture is absolutely not proportionate to his height at all.

also it’s interesting how often he calls her “miss starkov” instead of alina, considering in the book he’s like “hello alina, how are you alina, alina how is alina today, alina I’ve seen what you truly are alina, FINE alina MAKE alina ME alina YOUR alina.” I’m pretty sure when I first read shadow and bone, literally the only reason I learned alina’s name is because he kept saying it

FASCINATING, CANON ZOYA/DARKLING???????????? honestly don’t know if I like that??? I prefer to think that he has not gotten laid in a couple hundred years because he’s just bad at being a person and isn’t actually as slick as he thinks he is. I cannot believe they un-canoned Zoya/Mal and canon’d this, UNEXPECTED. feels weird.

on the plus side, I genuinely want a polycule of a solid half the trilogy characters and I guess it’s getting more canon by the minute! this is zoya and her girlfriend alina and alina’s three boyfriends mal, darkling comma the, and nikolai, who are also or have been zoya’s boyfriends at one point or another plus alina’s girlfriend genya who is also zoya’s girlfriend genya and genya’s boyfriend david” I’m allowed a seven-person polyship right?

fedyor and ivan go on double dates with the seven-person polycule. it’s a really tight booth in restaurants.

also this is zoya’s ex-girlfriend nina who sometimes visits from ketterdam and brings her boyfriend and her girlfriend, and her girlfriend’s boyfriend, and his boyfriend, and his boyfriend.

AND THEN THEY ALL GET BRUNCH, THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT

baghra can come too but only because she likes getting day-drunk on mimosas with nikolai and bITCHING with him

god I miss brunch. and friendship. and cocktails. and human contact.

anyway back to actually watching this episode

I really like that Alina is about 10x more Actively Involved in everything that happens to her vs. in the first book where she’s more along for the ride

it is emotionally a weird experience to see Mal get pelted with a water bottle and go YEAAH followed by aw nah, he doesn’t deserve that. There is A Mal in another universe who deserves to get pelted by 15 water bottles but it is not this Mal. This Mal can stay. Book Mal is on thin fucking ice and will be pelted with water bottles. But Show Mal is Valid and Allowed. god Archie’s SO FUCKING good. I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M HAVING SOFT FEELINGS ABOUT THIS BUT HERE WE ARE, LIFE IS FULL OF SURPRISES, such is archie’s power and he deserves praise

“Your powers don’t scare me” OHHHHHHH SUCH AN IMPROVEMENT THANK GODDDDDDD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAT the FUCK I am having EMOTIONS over malina scenes

I LOVE NINA SO FUCKING MUCH. I love her endlessly giving Matthias a hard time. he deserves it. god I love HER SHE’S SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

ohhhhhh the MLEMS are FIIIIIGHTING

OHHHHHHHH THE EMO BOYS ARE FIIIIIIIGHTING

oh. my god. they stole the fuckin. they. okay but like, his horsies tho :(((((

KHDFGKSJDFHGSKDFJHGKH DAVID!!!!!! hkdfjhgdfkjghsdfhg d a v id. fjkdhgsdkjfhgdfh dddddaaavviiiiiiidddd. DAVID.

I absolutely love the thought of the darkling, ivan, and david hanging out, because it’s like the three least social people in all of ravka. and they absolutely LOVE one another’s company because no one talks, there is no small talk, and they can just SIT in SILENCE and it’s nICE. sometimes they make brief eye contact and nod a couple times and then go back to politely sitting in silence.

sdfjkghskhdf his disdainful little ~a d o r a b l e~ about mal and alina deeply resonates with my experiences of reading the books. though AGAIN, WEIRD TO BE HAVING FEELINGS NOW.

GOD SO NOW I HAVE TO DECIDE!!!!! IT’S SO FUCKING TEMPTING TO WATCH 7 AND 8 TOMORROW NIGHT. IT IS SO TEMPTING. THEN I CAN UNBLACKLIST IT AND REBLOG ALL THE GIFETS.

BUUUUUUUT I have a busy and hectic week and 7 and 8 would be a really nice treat to have waiting for me NEXT Friday as motivation to get through the week

But that also means I have to keep being vigilant about not looking at Content for another week AND IT’S REALLY HARD TO MAINTAIN THAT RESOLVE NOT TO LOOK

god I don’t know what to do. delayed gratification normally comes so naturally to me, this is an actual struggle. I thiiiiiink I’m gonna try and hold off because future!me will be grateful next friday. but mid-week me who wants to look at gifsets will be mad.

#it took me like two hours to watch because I kept pausing to liveblog #and go on tangents about polycules and brunch #I recognize that that was a BIG tangent but also like.#feel free to join me in 'everything is brunch and nothing hurts' world because it's nice there #I really want the enormous ravkan polycule and the enormous ketterdam polycule #and I will take ANY opportunity to talk about the single most important brotp in the entire grishaverse which is baghra and nikolai #it is not REMOTELY RELEVANT TO THIS EPISODE but I will TALK ABOUT IT #okay I think that's enough tags that it won't show up in tracked tags #grishaverse #shadow and bone

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jarienn972 · 3 years

Text

La Sirena - Chapter Eight

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

We’re nearing the completion of this @cssns tale, and despite the challenges this story has posed, I’m a little bit sad that it is nearly finished.

This chapter has a lot of action as we pick up right where we left off with Regina’s nefarious plan to “test” Killian’s worthiness. Our poor lieutenant has no idea what the devious siren has in mind and it isn’t going to be pleasant.

Thank you, @kmomof4 for all of your beta assistance, especially with your suggestions for this chapter! And thanks again to @courtorderedcake for her beautiful artwork!

Catch up from the beginning on AO3 or FF.net Tumblr chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven

“Retribution”

No amount of naval training could have prepared him for this, Killian thought as he inexplicably found himself standing barefoot on the shore. One moment he'd been crouching inside the cavern awaiting Emma's return and the next, he was facing down the tempestuous ocean, thoroughly exposed. His knuckles had gone white clutching desperately to the cutlass, but as he stared out at the sea, he knew in his heart that the weapon was no match for this unnatural battle.

Above the whitecaps in the distance, he could just make out the crest of Emma's head and that of another person with darker hair coiffed beneath some sort of massive, glistening crown. Was this the mysterious sister that Emma had spoken of? He couldn't make out anything they were saying over the roar of waves crashing against the rock. But it was the dichotomy of their expressions that sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't even dare hypothesize the meaning behind the look of abject horror that spread across Emma's delicate features.

Shivers washed over him and his gut filled with apprehension when his gaze was drawn to movement on the horizon. Could this be signalling the arrival of the siren council that had Emma so concerned? The surface of the water seemed to rise, bubbling and foaming in the most unearthly manner. It was like nothing he had ever seen in all his years at sea and in a mere moment, he was about to wish it could be unseen.

As a mariner, he'd often heard tales of encounters with the legendary kraken and he'd shrugged them off as nothing but fantasy. Perhaps he'd been too quick to judge legend from truth, he found himself thinking as he marveled at the sheer size of the tentacle that emerged from the depths. It was simply beyond belief. From his experience with squid and octopi snared in fishing nets, Killian suspected that this creature would have to be supernaturally large, and that thought was confirmed as it reared its humongous head above the bay.

Even if he hadn't been practically paralyzed with shock and trepidation, he never would have had a chance to outrun the beast's speed or reach as another of its incredibly strong tentacles snatched him off of the beach. The slimy appendage constricted around his upper body, lifting him into the air and pinning his arms to his sides as it threatened to crush him.

First pirates, then sirens, and now he was eye to eye with a bloody kraken… All of them apparently competing to see who would kill him first…

Grimacing in pain, he struggled against its grasp and cried out to Emma for help. He may have been at the mercy of these mythical beings, but his own survival instincts remained fully intact. He wiggled his right arm free enough to draw the cutlass from its sheath. He didn't exactly have full range to properly wield his weapon, but he managed to secure an angle that allowed him to thrust the blade into one of the circular suckers on the underside of the tentacle encircling him. The monster howled and retaliated by lashing Killian into the waves, stunning the sailor as it increased the pressure on his body and dislodging the sword. The blade dropped into the ocean below while a barely conscious Killian could both feel and hear his ribs cracking under the assault.

Emma could only watch in a panic as the kraken scooped Killian off the shore with its tentacles wound tightly around him. She tried in vain to repel the monstrosity with her magic, but her barrage of light energy blasts had little to no effect on the creature.

"Your magic isn't strong enough to deter a kraken," an amused Regina insisted.

"Call it off, Regina!" Emma shouted angrily as the monster's tentacle squeezed ever tighter around Killian's very mortal body. She could hardly bear to see the agony expressed by his features. "This isn't the way! The beast is going to kill him!"

"He was on borrowed time already, sister," Regina reminded her sternly. "But if this pitiful human is as worthy as you claim he is, he certainly should be capable of defeating a kraken - shouldn't he?" She chuckled giddily as Emma's gaze focused on her weak little human, completely aghast by the impending carnage.

"I do not know what you and lord Triton conspired upon, but this is a repulsive abuse of power!" Emma admonished her sister while whipping around in the water to confront the rest of the council when they surfaced to take in the spectacle. "Why can none of you understand that he survived because he did not hear the song? Are you all complicit in this? Serving him up as hapless prey to a kraken is hardly the task our kind was given! Do you think this is what the great Poseidon intended? We were created to sing and only to sing! Any further judgement belongs to the gods, not to the sirens!"

There were a few nods and murmurs from the council but despite Emma's fervent pleas, none of the members seemed to be willing to challenge Regina.

"Cowards…," Emma hissed as she returned her attention to her sister. "I don't know what power you wield over the council, Regina, but I believe that even they know this is wrong. If you want to challenge him, do it with your voice, not with Triton's oversized toy…"

"But this way is so much more fun," Regina smirked and that was what finally pushed Emma over the edge. With a flip of her muscular tail, Emma lunged at Regina, shoving her tentacled sibling beneath the surface and yanking the coral and shell studded crown from atop Regina's head. "Why you insolent little bitch!" Regina cried out as Emma flung the headdress aside. "You've always been a poor excuse for a siren and now you're proving that by all of this fervor to save your human pet!"

Regina flicked two of her tentacles toward Emma who defensively batted them away with her arms and tail fin. The skirmish sent many members of the council scrambling to get out of the way.

"Why are you doing this?" Emma demanded with a brisk swish of her tail that lifted her out of Regina's reach for the moment. "This has never been our way… Please - call off that kraken!"

"You have been away too long. You've gone soft," Regina scolded. "You're practically fawning over a human. How deranged can you possibly be? Have you forgotten what it is to be a siren or are those powers wasted on you?"

"The only deranged one here is you! I know I did the right thing no matter what you believe. Maybe I did go soft but if his life was spared from the siren call, he deserves to live…" Emma couldn't stop her voice from cracking as she continued to plead for Killian's survival. How had this man managed to affect her so greatly in such a short amount of time? Why did she care so much? Compassion wasn't an emotion that sirens were supposed to have…

"No human is worthy to pass through this realm. That was the edict of Poseidon himself," Regina sneered, raising her right arm above the water's surface as she prepared to unleash her magic on the helpless human who'd gone limp in the kraken's grip.

"PERHAPS I SHOULD BE THE JUDGE OF THAT," a booming voice sounded above the bay, silencing all, including the roaring sea beast.

A glistening trident with tines that blazed as brilliantly as lightning bolts broke through the waves. Emma immediately bowed her head even before the god's visage appeared and her action was followed by the siren council members who'd remained. Even Regina demurely lowered her head at the sight of Poseidon's face, but no amount of posturing would spare her from his ire. With a scant raise of his trident, the seas instantly grew calm and the kraken, still clinging to its human prey, was now frozen in time.

"Enough distractions," Poseidon said as his attention fell to the combative sirens. "The creatures living in this bay alerted me to all of this… whatever this is. What in the name of Olympus is going on here?"

"Mighty Poseidon," Regina began as she slowly lifted her chin to gaze upon the god of the sea. Her eyes darted back to the sea at the sight of his deep-set scowl. "We were just trying to complete some unfinished business, but there has been some disagreement over doing what needs to be done."

Poseidon shook his head in disdain as he glowered at the brunette siren. "This is a disagreement?" he queried as he nonchalantly pushed his glimmering three pointed crown back into position atop his pure white hair, echoing Regina's earlier behavior. "I think this is a ruckus and I would like to know how a council of sirens got themselves into such a bizarre situation. I don't recall krakens being a part of the siren song."

Regina's cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger. How dare Emma and her human put her in this position? "My apologies. Had Erimetha not abandoned our code and rescued a human, we wouldn't be here. The kraken was merely a suggestion from your brother, Triton, as a means to expedite the process."

"Was it now?" Poseidon quipped sarcastically before his scrutiny passed to Emma who, to this point, had remained reverent, silently treading water as she awaited the inevitable wrath of the god. "I'll need to have a stern conversation with my brother about his suggestion, but Erimetha - pardon me, I forgot that you prefer to be called Emma - is what Regina says true? Did you rescue a human from a doomed ship?"

Emma managed a weak smile over the fact that Poseidon had remembered her preferred name and even corrected himself. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't being viewed as the villain here.

"Regina's words are partially true. The man had already survived the siren song. He never heard them sing. All I did was prevent him from rolling off of his makeshift raft," Emma replied as she dared raise her head to face Poseidon.

"What possessed you to do such a thing?" Poseidon asked with a raised brow, intently listening for her response.

Emma had to pause for a moment, trying to best form her words, but the best she could come up with was: "My instincts told me I should."

"I see…" The god of the seas scratched idly at his beard as he contemplated Emma's answer - one that Regina clearly didn't believe to be good enough.

"She admits she helped the human," Regina rehashed her opinion, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly as she awaited the god's agreement.

Giving no audience to Regina, Poseidon continued his interrogation of Emma as only the outcast siren's first-hand account was going to answer the questions he wanted answered.

"You claim the human did not perish during the siren encounter because he didn't hear their song. What led you to that conclusion, Emma?"

"As he was recovering from his injuries sustained at the hand of the pirates who had abducted him and during his escape from the sinking ship, we conversed a few times. He believed the ship's crew had abandoned their vessel after striking the rocks and left him behind. It wasn't until after Regina came to my cove the first time in search of a survivor that he learned the truth about the siren attack, but he didn't recall hearing any music before the ship began to go down. It was my belief that he might possibly have been deaf to the song so I tested the theory by singing to him and he never heard me. He never fell victim to the trance. Does that not make him worthy to live?"

Poseidon pursed his lips and rubbed his whiskered chin as he pondered his next query but grew irritated by Regina's refusal to be silent when she interrupted his thoughts.

"This doesn't prove anything," Regina interjected, only to be immediately shushed by the god.

"Regina - my questions are for Emma at this time. It would be in your best interest to remain quiet until I address you," he warned sternly. "When I have a question for you, I shall ask. Do you understand?"

An embarrassed Regina nodded and gave a sheepish "Yes, your majesty." before floating further back from him.

"Emma, what do you know of the history of the sirens?" Poseidon inquired.

She was caught off-guard by the unusual question, but she did her best to surmise the history she knew. "Centuries ago, the gods lived in peace with humans, but a time came when the humans no longer showed reverence to the gods. As the human realm grew in size and they began to traverse the globe, you and Triton established this part of the mighty oceans as your sacred realm. We sirens were created to guard entrance into the realm as our song was supposed to determine whether a human was worthy to pass.

"Over many generations, only one human proved to be worthy - although the precise means of how his worth was determined remain unclear. Anyway, this human gained your favor and in time, was granted permission to marry your daughter, Ursula. Their civilization then flourished for many years, until the same insolence led to the destruction of that advanced civilization.

"Humans were once again regarded as evil, and while there are many tales of your descendants being spared, no one but you, your majesty, knows the veracity of that. All I know for certain is that even long before I isolated myself away from the sirens, no human ever traversed this realm successfully. All of them perished - until Killian came along. I do not know what criteria you intended us to use to judge men such as him, but he isn't evil. If he was able to make it off of that ship alive, does that not mean he was worthy of passage?"

Poseidon raised a brow at the thoroughness of her reply. He'd known for quite some time that Emma was unique amongst her kind, but he'd not expected to find such an underlying passion for life within a being who'd been created to kill.

"You are very much correct, Emma," he said at last, leaving a disgruntled Regina aghast.

"But Lord Poseidon, she defied the siren code by interfering!" Regina insisted and she was met with a harsh rebuttal.

"Regina, my instruction was for you to remain silent until you were addressed, but you seem to have difficulty following such a simple directive," he admonished the unruly siren. "You and the council are dismissed!" Lifting his trident, he aimed it at the frozen kraken, divesting it of its human prey. In a flash, an unconscious Killian Jones was removed from the creature's grasp to reappear safely upon the sandy shore. He waved off the layer of imposing clouds that shrouded the skies, allowing the sunlight to bathe the cove once again. The kraken reared to life as Poseidon's spell wore off, but the god quickly neutered its wrath. "And since you summoned it, you can return that blasted beast to my brother on your way home to your end of the island! Once I have completed cleaning up the mess you have made here, you will stand before me to answer for this abuse of your powers! Even with the most convincing apology, you may find yourself relieved of those powers."

Regina's lips parted to complain but wisely, not a single whimper escaped as she turned away from the intensity of his glare. Glancing around the bay, she could see that not a single council member had stayed behind to see her humiliation, so perhaps she could count that as a single victory. It was still her belief that she'd done no wrong, but for now, it was far better to lick her wounds and depart than further provoke the wrath of a god who had just publicly castigated her in front of her rival.

Visibly shaken, Regina gave one last little flutter of her wrist to vanquish the kraken, scowling eyes locked on Emma the entire time. Despite her fallen crown being forgotten and abandoned to the sea floor, she held her chin up audaciously before slipping beneath the waves with the knowledge that this may have been her last act as a siren.

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cssns20 #cs ff #cs au ff #la sirena #siren emma #one more chapter to go #are emma and killian going to get their happy ending?

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marril96 · 4 years

Text

A Thing of the Past

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: A hunt gone wrong leaves you without memories of the last five years of your life. One person you do remember is Rowena, but she is very different than the evil, manipulative witch you knew. You have nothing but questions, starting with, why does she act like you're friends — and possibly more than that?

A/N: Thanks to my lovely friend @fangirlxwritesx67 for helping with the summary!

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

There had certainly been weird ways you'd woken up, but nothing could compare to opening your eyes to Sam and Dean Winchester hovering over you, watching you like hawks, concern etched into their faces.

You flinched as if struck, startled. They instantly stepped back and put their hands up in a calming manner, muttering that it was okay, that you were safe. Which you highly doubted because they were with you, and they weren't safe. No place with them was safe. The only thing — the only person — you felt safe with was—

"Y/N!" a familiar voice exclaimed, and, like magic, there she was, and suddenly all your uncertainty fluttered away like dust scattered by the wind. Even before your eyes met hers — concerned. Why was she concerned? Had she been crying? — you were at peace, perfectly relaxed. She was here. You were okay. Everything was okay, regardless of the Winchesters' presence. You were sure there was a reasonable explanation for everything, and if anyone would have it, it would be Rowena.

There was no one you trusted more than her, even though she sometimes made it difficult. It wasn't easy to trust a woman who openly admitted — bragged, even — she wasn't capable of love and killed people at the drop of a hat just because she felt like it. You could sense there was more to her than met the eye, something deeper, kinder buried deep underneath those walls she'd built over the centuries to protect herself. She wanted to present herself as a monster, and she did a good job at that. But there were flickers of that other side of her that surfaced sometimes, when she let her guard down. When she felt relaxed, at peace, safe.

You fully intended to meet that Rowena, to bait her out. To show her that it was okay to be human. That it was okay to be vulnerable. One day, you'd promised yourself a while ago, when you'd first caught a glimpse of that hidden woman. One day you would see her in her full glory. No matter how much you had to wait.

Rowena's hand was on yours, her grip strong, iron. She was sitting at your bedside. Her makeup was smudged, hair (wavy rather than curled) ragged, tangled, a mess that bore a striking resemblance to a bird's nest. Redness rimmed her eyes, and you really were convinced she was crying. Why? Had something happened? Had she gotten hurt?

She looked, you realized, upon a short inspection, different than usual. Gone was the gown you'd last seen her in — which one was it? One of the black ones, or the gold one? Instead, she was clad in a white blouse that fit her strangely well and a pair of dress pants, black and stylish. More business woman than witch, and yet, the outfit felt somewhat… right. As if it belonged on her. As if she were meant to wear it. Her nails were a gentle pink, a few shades lighter than she usually painted them.

Was she undercover?

Was this a dream?

And, most importantly (heat filling your cheeks), why was she holding your hand?

"Rowena," you uttered, your voice hoarse, throat sandpaper. "What—"

The words froze in your throat as Rowena leapt up from her seat and threw her arms around you, locking you into a hug. A tight, bone-crushing one that knocked all the air out of you and the only thing you could do was gasp for a breath.

Your throat was dry, scratchy, as if stuffed with cotton. Eyes wide as if you'd seen a ghost (though, you were willing to argue, encountering a ghost would have been much better than… whatever the hell all this was). Muscles stiff. Body motionless, still as a statue.

Only one thing, one question that nagged at you like an unrelenting spouse, rang through your mind.

What the fuck is going on?!

Rowena didn't hug. Her peak of affection was a smile accompanied by an exclamation of, "Wonderful work!" every time you'd successfully learned a spell, full of pride reserved, for the most part, for her. Because she had taught you. Because it had been her time and effort that had made you learn. Without her, you wouldn't be able to do it. You were more than aware of it, her smiles and praise sure to remind you every time, intent on never letting you forget.

She had made you. If it weren't for her, you would still be that meek, scared witch, struggling with the simplest of spells. You should be grateful — and you were, immensely so, and ste reveled in it, basked in it like a queen lapping up the approval of her people. If witches had royalty, you couldn't see anyone else on the throne. And if there happened to be another witch, you were sure Rowena would fight tooth and nail for that crown — and win it because she was Rowena MacLeod. What she needed, she got. What she wanted, she took.

What she deserved, what she deemed to be rightfully hers, she claimed with hands stained with blood and a smile that promised death to anyone who dared stand in her way.

"I was out of my mind," she said. Then, joking, "You really know how to worry a girl."

"I…"

What were you supposed to say? How were you supposed to react? Rowena — the woman of your dreams, the love of your life — was hugging you. Her arms were around you, warm and soft, exactly as you'd imagined them, and you'd never felt safer. Even with the Winchester around. And not only that — she had apparently been worried about you.

Rowena MacLeod — the self-professed heartless bitch — had been worried about you.

A sarcastic remark or a snide comment were to be expected, but this? This was new territory. Uncharted, unexplored. Lethal, if your experiences had taught you anything. And yet…

And yet…

"I'm sorry?" you muttered.

"You better be." Pulling back, she looked you in the eyes. Something dawned on her face, an emotion you couldn't quite place. Relief, you realized after a short moment of pondering on it. Relief and ease. Peace. Calm. As if a heavy weight had suddenly been lifted off her shoulders and she could finally breathe freely.

"What happened?" you asked, hoping she would explain. Hoping she would say something that made sense for so far nothing did, not even a sliver.

"Poor dear, you must have hit your head pretty hard." Seemingly instinctively, Rowena laid a hand to your forehead. A dull ache prickled under the place she touched you, and you flinched. She instantly pulled her hand away, face apologetic, filled with guilt, and started stroking your hair instead. "The witch threw you against a wall. But not to worry. I've taken care of her." Her lips tightened into a firm line you knew all too well; a threat, dangerous, unforgiving. "I'm sure she's having a marvelous time in Hell."

She'd killed a witch. For you. Was this some sort of parallel reality?

And why did Sam and Dean look so casual about it? As if it was every day that Rowena killed — witches, at that — for you. As if it was every day that she hugged you and stroked your head and spoke to you in a voice so incredibly soft your insides melted into a puddle.

As if they didn't hate her, and she didn't hate them.

What had that witch done to you?

"Okay, but…" You cleared your throat. Looked from Sam and Dean to Rowena, back and forth. Unsure how to approach the issue without raising suspicion for, for all you knew, this was a begrudging alliance and one wrong move could get you and Rowena thrown into a dungeon, bound in heavy iron, or, even worse, get you both witch-killing bullets in your heads.

Noticing your discomfort, Rowena leaned closer. "Yes, dear?"

Your heart swelled, warm, fuzzy butterflies roiling in your stomach. There was something… real about the nicknames. Something genuine. Straight from the heart. More than mere courteousness, though you were sure you were imagining it. Rowena didn't feel anything. She wasn't able to. She was just being friendly. Overly so, but still, it was nothing more than friendship — or something similar to that for, along with love, friendship was another thing she didn't do.

Acquaintanceship, maybe. Allyship. Witch solidarity.

You threw one more glance at the Winchesters, who seemed confused though not overly concerned, and, motioning for her to get closer, whispered, "What is going on here?"

Rowena frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Why are we here?"

"You got hurt, darling."

"No, why are we here? With them?"

She looked at Sam and Dean, then back at you. "What do you mean?"

You grit your teeth in frustration. What did you mean?

What did she mean?

"Since when do we go to the Winchesters—" you spat the word venomously "—when we get hurt?"

Rowena opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. Sucked in a breath to gather her thoughts. "They were with us."

"What? Why?"

Why would they be with you? Had they tried to trick Rowena into another deal? Had they wanted to kidnap her again, torture her, murder her?

"We were helping them with a case. Remember? They called us last night." Her expression softened. "Poor dear. You must have suffered a concussion."

It took everything in you not to gasp out loud. You were helping the Winchesters with a case? They'd called you, and you did it — just like that? And, after you'd gotten hurt, they were helping you?

How bad had you hit your head?

Why was Rowena being so casual about it? Why did she talk about it as if it were normal, as if it just happened that Sam and Dean asked for help? As if she didn't mind?

The Rowena you knew would have minded. And, even if she agreed to do it, she wouldn't be so relaxed around them. She would never put her guard down.

"Not to worry," she said, shaking you from your thoughts. "I'll make you a wee potion. You'll be good as new in no time."

You gulped. "Why were we helping them?"

"Like I said, they asked."

"That doesn't make any sense"

Nothing made sense. Not Sam and Dean being so close, so concerned. Not Rowena acting like a worried mother hen, when usually she would have told you to be a big girl and suck it up. Not this situation, which seemed less real, less tangible by the second.

"Did they promise us something?" you asked.

Rowena chuckled nervously. "No. Why would-why are you asking?"

You were flabbergasted. "Are you serious?"

Suspicion crept on her face. "Y/N," she said, and her tone was serious. The same tone she used when she spoke about crushing her enemies, and had every intention of making good on it, "what is the last thing you remember?"

"I…"

What was the last thing you remembered? Rowena — you were pretty sure she was there. She was saying something; you weren't sure what, at first, but the more you pondered on it, the clearer her words became.

She was working with Lucifer.

You'd told her it wasn't a good idea, but there was no talking her out of it. Lucifer would do both of you good, she'd said. All she had to do was help him out, and then she — and, along with her, you — was set for life. Queen of everything, right by his side.

It was stupid. She would get hurt; you knew she would. Nothing good ever came from working with Lucifer. You'd heard stories. The archangel was a liar, a deceiver by nature. He was using her.

But she would hear none of it. She knew what she was doing — she was adamant about it, and you could either take it or leave it.

As if you'd had a choice in the matter. She knew well enough you were down with everything she was involved with. Even if every inch of you despised it.

"We were talking."

"What were we talking about?"

Really? She was so bold as to ask that with the Winchesters in the same room? You were whispering amongst yourselves, but that didn't mean they couldn't pick up certain words.

The Devil's name — if uttered, hell, if even thought of — was sure to raise eyebrows.

"The dreams," you said.

Rowena blinked. "What dreams?"

"You know, the dreams."

No recognition crossed her face.

Had she also hurt her head?

"Your, um, nightly excursions with the Father of Lies?" you said with a tad more bitterness than intended, unable to stop yourself from letting it slip through. Selfish as it was, you wished they were your dreams. Your reality. Wished that her eyes shined the same when yours met them as they did when she talked about him. Wished that she admired — wanted, craved — you as she did him.

Silly desires. Childish. It wasn't like you had that much to offer — other than your friendship, and you doubted that was something a woman of her tastes was interested in. She wanted influence, power. Unlimited. Unstoppable.

Lucifer had that, and more.

You, on the other hand, had nothing. You were nothing.

Rowena pulled away as if slapped, hard. All color drained from her face. She was white as a sheet, paler than you'd ever seen her before. Your heart jumped, slammed hard against your chest. Had you said it too loud? Had you given her up? She'd been loud and clear that her involvement with Lucifer was a secret of the highest order. No one was to find out about it. It was one of the few things, few of her tightly held secrets, she trusted you with.

You hoped with everything you had that you hadn't let her down.

"Rowena?" Sam said, concern lacing his face. Blissfully, it seemed, unaware of what you'd said. "Are you okay?"

Rowena's lower lip trembled, as if she were holding back a cry. As if a sob, loud, deafening, wanted to tear from her throat. She kept herself in check, however, quickly sucking in a breath and raising her head up high and proud. The queen of disguise, though you always saw right through her. There wasn't much she could hide from you. Not that you dared say it out loud; she preferred to keep her weaknesses hidden, and you complied. It was a wordless agreement the two of you had come to. She let slivers of her true self, of the woman rejected and turned twisted by the world, out around you; not much, but enough for you to know that, despite what she presented herself as, she wasn't a stone-cold monster. In turn, you kept your mouth shut. You let her be. You didn't bring it up in conversations.

You didn't use it against her.

"Y/N." Her voice wavered, letters held together by a thread. She swallowed. "What year is it?"

"2015," you answered without hesitation. What did that have to do with anything? You were a bit murky on the details, but you knew what year it was. You weren't that crazy.

You were certain Rowena couldn't get any paler, yet here she was, drained, colorless. A corpse on legs. What was it that had her so scared?

Was it the Winchesters? Had she sold them a cover story of some sort, only for you to somehow blow it? Had she blown it?

"What do you mean, 2015?" Sam asked, stunned.

"It's the year," you said, gesturing vaguely around. "You know, the year we're in right now."

He exchanged a look with Dean, both of them falling quite pale themselves.

"Well, not for long," you added, if, for nothing else, to break the tension for the silence that settled over the room was too uncomfortable. "A month, or so."

"A month." It was Dean who said it, his face the picture of confusion.

"It's November," you reminded him.

"It—Y/N, that's wrong," Sam said.

You were pretty sure you knew your dates. Well, not actual dates, but you knew it was November.

"Its November 2015," you said loud and clear, irritation blooming in your stomach.

"No," Rowena said after a silent moment, and the utmost despair in her voice shattered your heart into a million pieces, "it is not."

How could it not be? It had to be November of 2015. You remembered the year flashing on your phone. Remembered the calendar hanging on the wall in the lobby of the hotel you and Rowena had booked a room in. Remembered the big, bold letters spelling out NOVEMBER, and a photograph of naked trees surrounded by fallen leaves accompanying them.

"It's 2020," Dean said.

You laughed. Loud, hearty, as if Rowena had spat yet another Scottish word you didn't know the meaning of, but, with her thick accent and the absolute madness on her face, you found found it hilarious. "No, it's not."

What kind of a joke were they playing? Why did it look as if Rowena was in on it?

Why…?

Oh, gods!

"It's not 2020!" you exclaimed. Everyone's eyes were on you. Watching you carefully, intently. Observing your every movement. Taking in every detail; every miniscule movement you made, every breath you took, every beat of your heart and twitch of your nerves. As if you were an experiment. A failed science project for everyone to scrutinize, to pull apart and learn from its flaws.

Pressure exploded inside you, your muscles tensing, stilling as stones buried under your skin. It wasn't 2020 — was it? It couldn't be. Five years didn't pass just like that. It was 2015, and Rowena was obsessed with Lucifer, and you were obsessed with her, and why was everyone staring at you — why wouldn't they stop?

"It's 2015!" you insisted, more for your benefit than to prove them right. It couldn't be any other year. They were messing with you. Trying to make you look crazy. Well, tough luck, because you were not crazy, and you weren't going to let them make a fool out of you.

Who knew what they'd done to Rowena? For all you knew, they could have brainwashed her. They could have found something — a spell, a mind control chip — and used it to make her into their slave. The Winchesters couldn't be trusted.

"Y/N—" Sam tried gently, almost (the thought made you gag) friendly.

You held up a hand. "Don't!"

"It's 2020, darling," Rowena said, and it was so earnest, so damn honest you wanted to believe her.

But how could you? It didn't make sense. None of this made sense. You at the Bunker. Sam and Dean acting like concerned friends. Rowena being so casual, so at ease around them.

It was wrong.

Everything about this was so wrong.

"No." You shook your head. Heart leaping. Fingers squeezing into fists. Nails biting into skin. "It's no—it can't be!"

"It is."

She approached you again, careful, tentative. Laid a hand on your shoulder. You melted into the touch; soft, gentle, it shattered all your worries, squashed them, and, for a short moment, everything felt right again despite being so very, very wrong. Rowena was here. You didn't know why, but she was here, and she cared about you, and everything was going to be okay. She would make it okay.

"What's wrong with her?" Dean asked.

"It looks like a curse," Rowena said in that same lullaby voice, so much different than you were used to. So much sweeter, lovelier. Kinder. "The witch probably tried to wipe her memories before I got to her."

"I'm cursed?" The words tasted bitter on your tongue.

"Aye, darling."

A shudder ran through you. "You're sure?"

"Aye."

"This is not some sort of prank?"

"No."

Queasiness roiled through you. Your stomach turned, twisted as if a knot had tightened inside it. It was 2020. The year was 2020. Rowena was nice. Too nice for what you were used to. And the Winchesters were — what? Your friends? Allies? Acquaintances?

You gasped for breaths, heart running a thousand miles an hour in your chest. Pounding as if it were about to explode. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. It was too much—

"Here." Rowena shoved a glass of water in your hands and guided it to your mouth. You took a sip, shaking, her hands over yours steading your grip. "It's okay, darling."

You drank some more before allowing her to return the glass to the bedside table. "Five years." Your voice was raspy, broken, words barely squeezing out.

"Pardon?"

You cleared your throat. "I lost five years."

The sympathy that filled her eyes was overwhelming. Strange for, last time you checked, she wasn't capable of it. She didn't allow herself to be.

She'd changed so much, and you'd missed it.

What else important had you missed?

"It's not permanent." She cupped your cheek. Brushed her thumb over it. "Don't worry."

The touch burned your skin. You'd become close, it seemed. Become the kind of friends you always wanted to be, but never dared make the first move for you knew she would recoil from the mere idea. She was a different person now. She was everything you always wanted, and more, and you missed it. Tears prickled at your eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Her tone rang with authority, with promise. With truth there was no point to question for she was a professional and she knew these things. If there was anyone who understood magic, it was her. "The witch is dead. She didn't finish the spell. A few more hours — a day, at most — and you'll be as good as new!"

You breathed out in relief. A few hours — you could do that. You could wait. "Okay."

"Do you need anything?" Rowena asked, attentive as a mama bear. "Something to eat? More water?"

"I'm okay, thanks." As okay as you could be, given the circumstances. "I just need to process everything."

She sat down by you. Laid a hand over yours. "It must be awful."

"You have no idea. This is all so… weird." And that was putting it mildly. You looked at the Winchesters. "I take it we're all… friends. In 2020."

Sam chuckled. "Something like that."

Dean didn't seem to be in complete agreement. At least something remained the same.

You turned to Rowena. "And you don't have the dreams anymore?"

"Goodness, no!" she said. For a pagan, she seemed awfully close to crossing herself. "Lucifer is dead."

First good news of the day. "Awesome!"

"Aye." She grit her teeth. "He's rotting."

Bad blood, huh? You resisted an urge to spit out an I-told-you-so. "You're kinda nice."

"She is," Sam said jokingly.

Rowena huffed. Puffed her cheeks adorably. "I am not nice."

"You are," you insisted. "It's… cool. I like it." You couldn't wait to remember how she got to be this way. It must have been difficult to change to this extent. She had to have worked on herself. Willingly for there was no way she was like this by force. She'd wanted to change, and she did. A tinge of pride bloomed in your chest. You always knew she had it in her. "I'm glad we're still—" you eyed her hand on yours. "—friends."

Rowena's cheeks burned red as her hair.

"Friends?" Dean chortled.

A teasing smile flickered over Sam's mouth.

Your blood froze. "We are friends, right? Don't tell me we hate each other!"

"No," Rowena said. "No, no. The complete opposite, actually. But we aren't friends."

What were you, then? And why did she look so giddy about it? So, dare you say, happy? Could it be—

No. No way. Rowena would never go for you. You weren't rich, you weren't powerful, and you were a girl. You had nothing to offer that she would want. She wouldn't—

"We're together." She said it just like that. So matter-of-factly. So casually, as if it was normal for the two of you to be in a relationship. As if there was nothing strange about the prospect.

You gulped. "Together together?"

She grinned. "Together together."

Blood rushed to your cheeks. Your heart sped up again, running a marathon. Surely there was a mistake. A catch of some sort. Rowena wouldn't date you, would she? You must have heard it wrong, or imagined it. There was no way she was with you. No way that she would settle for less when she always strived for the most.

And yet, here she was, looking at you like you were the most important thing in the entire world. Like nothing and no one else existed but the two of you, all alone in the universe. She was holding your hand, and she was worried about you, and she felt something for you.

She loved you.

You could tell from the look in her eyes. From the tenderness of her fingers twined with yours. From the way she spoke to you, and the way she smiled at you, and the fact that she was here, right by your side. As if she belonged there.

She knew that she did.

"H-how long?" you muttered, voice breaking, throat tightening, barely letting the words slip through.

Rowena smiled. Big, bright, beautiful. The kind of smile you'd never seen on her face before; not as far as you remembered. You wondered if she smiled like that often. If she'd finally allowed herself to be happy. She certainly looked it. "Four years," she said, and the softness of her tone, along with the matching expression on her face, told you she didn't regret a single day.

You bit your lip. Four years. Not that long from the year your memories were stuck in. A few more months, and she was years. You wondered what had happened. What had made her let you in. Had you made the first step? Had she seen the way you'd been looking at her, the way you'd been acting around her?

"Look, Sammy, she's blushing!" Dean said with a grin. "I've never seen Y/N blush. Except that time in the library."

"Shut up!" you said, averting your eyes. Avoiding the teasing glint in his. Rowena leveled him with a stare that had to have killed before. "Rowena, what's he talking about?"

Her cheeks flushed the scarlet of her hair. "Nothing."

Dean snorted. "You once had sex in our library. Which — not cool. It's been two years and it still feels dirty, no matter how many times I disinfect it."

"Dude!" Sam said, shooting him his signature bitchface.

"What?" Dean said defensively. "At least they've never done it in Baby."

Rowena clicked her tongue. "Well…"

This time he was the one glaring daggers at her. "What?"

She shrugged. Fluttered her eyelashes innocently. Shit. You really had had sex in Dean's beloved car.

It must have been amazing. Your pussy quivered at the thought. Cheeks burned hot. You were missing so much. So many important things, important moments. Your entire relationship was erased from your head, as if it had never existed. As if it was still nothing but a daydream you were convinced would never bleed into reality.

Sam cleared his throat. "I think we should leave them alone."

Dean raised his forefinger in what was supposed to be a threat, but looked more like a childish gesture. "When did—how—I—"

Rowena flashed him a smug smirk, which prompted him to flush with anger, with sheer and utter utter rage. If there was one thing you knew about Dean Winchester, it was that his car was sacred. No one was to touch it. No one was to damage it. And, most important of all, no one was to defile it. They could hurt him; they could tear apart his porn stash and burn down the Bunker, but his car — his precious, precious Baby — was off limits.

You wondered if that was why you and Rowena had done it. It it was some sort of a game, a provocation. A catch-us-if-you-can sort of thing. If so, he had clearly lost. Or perhaps it was spite, doing it for no reason other than to prove that you could.

Or it was a spur of the moment. Rowena was spontaneous enough to do it, and you were pretty sure, if the circumstances allowed it, you would follow in her lead without a complaint. Hell, for all you knew, it might as well have been you who'd initiated it.

Who in their right mind would pass on a chance to have sex with Rowena, even if their life was at stake?

"Let's give them some privacy," Sam said. "Come on."

Dean was red as a tomato. "Sammy, they—"

"I know."

"They defiled my car."

"I know."

"They defiled Baby."

"It—I'm sure it was a long time ago."

"Well—" Rowena started, only to be interrupted by a wild glare from Sam. She shut her mouth and licked her lips. Gave an innocent blink that wasn't fooling anyone.

"Come on," Sam said, ushering Dean out of the room. You thought the older Winchester would struggle, but he let his brother drag him out, gaze glued to Rowena, lips flickering open and closed like a fish out of water, all words trapped in his throat.

As soon as the door clicked closed, you breathed out in relief. You could hold your own against Dean; as nasty as the man could sometimes be, he didn't scare you. Not always, anyway. Not now, with Rowena by your side, and Sam seemingly backing the two of you up. Still, you preferred peace to war. With your memories gone, still confused and a tad dazed, you weren't in the mood for conflict.

"Did—did we really have sex in Baby?"

Rowena grinned like it was Christmas. "Och, aye."

More heat spilled over your cheeks, your skin boiling to the touch. The car, the library… "Do we often have sex in public places?" Knowing her, it wouldn't surprise you.

"Only on special occasions."

You quirked up an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"When the chance presents itself."

A bark of laughter tore from your mouth. Rowena laughed along, heartily, joyously. Happily, and it was so strange to see her like that. Change had done her good.

"Rowena, what are we like?"

She tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"

"Our relationship. Is it good?" As much as you wanted it to be, as much as you'd daydreamed it, you knew things didn't always work out like that. Real life had a way — a cruel, wicked way — of ruining things, of twisting and corrupting them until they were nothing but a shell of what they used to be. What they were supposed to be. "Are we happy?"

Rowena's face lit up. "We are very happy." She squeezed your hand. Twined her fingers with yours in an unbreakable knot.

Warmth swelled in your chest, filled up your heart. "You're different." Wasn't that an understatement?

"I am." There was a tinge of pride to the words. Accomplishment.

She wanted to change. Whatever the reason was, you were glad. This was the Rowena who you'd always seen glimpses of. The woman hiding behind protective walls of coldness and cruelty. A woman who could be sweet and kind and gentle, whose smiles could be genuine, whose words could bring comfort rather than fear. A woman who was more than just a wicked witch.

"You look… happy," you said. The Rowena you knew never was. She pretended to be, put on a facade, but there was no light in her eyes. There was no genuinity in that manufactured happiness. "It's nice."

"I suppose I found what makes me happy," she said, eyes locking with yours.

"I'm glad you did."

If anyone deserved it, it was her. She hadn't told you much about her past, but you could always tell she'd suffered. The world wasn't kind to her, and she wasn't kind to it back.

Her face suddenly darkened. Eyes fell to your linked hands. "I was awful to you, wasn't I?"

"What?"

"Back then. I was horrible. I was using you. That is the me you remember, isn't it?"

"I… It wasn't that bad." And it wasn't. She'd promised to mentor you and you'd agreed to it. It was a business transaction like any other. You were the one who'd caught feelings, who'd wished for the acquaintanceship (even that was a stretch) to turn into a friendship. To turn into more than a friendship. "You were my teacher."

"I strung you along." she said in a quivering voice, guilt etched into her face. "I took advantage of you."

She did, and it hurt, but… "It's all in the past. Isn't it? Do I often bring it up?"

She shook her head. "We never talked about it."

"Why talk about it now?"

"Because you don't remember." She sucked in a breath. Swallowed. "You don't know how much I regret the way I treated you."

"I do." You could see it on her face. Could hear it in her voice, in the rapid thuds of her heart. She wasn't the woman you used to know. She was different. Better. For the first time, you weren't afraid to love her. Weren't afraid to let the feelings overwhelm you for you knew she shared them and it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Not everyone could win the affections of Rowena MacLeod. It was a privilege you would cherish to the grave. "If it means anything, I forgive you. For before."

It meant the world, it seemed. Her eyes glittered. She allowed herself to smile.

You returned it. "Do we still jump from hotel to hotel?"

"We've settled down," she said with a shake of her head.

A picture of a mansion, big and tall, flashed in your mind. Rooms as big as the entire Bunker. Walls painted gold, adorned with expensive, custom-made paintings. A large yard filled with blooming herbs and flowers. A big, fancy fence lining the property, protecting it from unwanted attention. A garage stuffed with the newest models of luxury cars.

"Somewhere fancy, I presume."

"Not exactly."

You quirked an eyebrow. Rowena reached for her phone, opened the photo gallery app, and shoved the phone in your hands. You flipped through the pictures, mouth widening into a grin. They were selfies, each featuring you both. Eyes lit, smiles bright. There were some where you made faces or gave Rowena bunny ears while she glared, clearly not in the mood. There was a house in the background of a few of them. A normal suburban house, not too different from the ones you saw in movies set in small towns. Some pictures featured a small garden, others a metal fence. Some were taken inside, by the furniture that, while classy, was far from the luxury you'd imagined.

"Wow," you said, surprised. "That's… different."

"You chose it," Rowena said.

"And you let me?"

She shrugged. "It's a lovely home. I bargained myself a jacuzzi."

"Of course you did."

She snickered. "It stands out less than a mansion."

"So it's like a hiding place."

"Aye."

"Do we often have to hide?"

"We did a few times. The house is heavily warded. Nothing sans a deity can get in."

"You took good care of it."

"We both did."

Both. "So I'm a better witch now? Than I used to be."

"Much better." She smirked. "You've got a great teacher, after all."

You rolled your eyes teasingly. "Of course." A silence befell the room, then, curious, you asked, "Do you and Crowley get along now?"

Once again, Rowena paled. All light drained from her face. She turned her head, avoiding your eyes. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she uttered, "He's gone."

"Oh." Your heart sank. The man was a bastard, but he was a fun one. It was weird to imagine a world he wasn't in. Unnatural. He seemed like one of those people who would always be there, come hell or high water. "I'm… sorry?"

"It's fine."

You could tell it wasn't. In the four years you'd lost, it appeared she'd learned to care about him. Allowed herself to feel what every mother should. Curiosity nibbled at you, but you chose to keep it to yourself. Rowena wasn't in the mood for answering such questions. It was too raw, too painful. To depressing for the occasion.

"Do I ever tell you I love you?" you asked, itching for a change of topic.

That prompted Rowena to chuckle. "You say it all the time."

You blushed. "I do?"

"Mmhm. And I always say it back."

She did? She said it out loud? She didn't just feel it — she expressed it in words?

Swallowing a breath for courage, you stammered, "I… I love you." Your heart raced. Slammed so hard against your chest, it ached. It felt good to say it out loud. Ecstatic. Liberating. As if the words were trapped and had finally gained their freedom.

Rowena flashed a thousand watt smile and, in her softest, loveliest voice, said, "I love you, too, my darling."

The words rolled off her tongue in a purr as soft as silk. Your insides were on fire, nerves flickering, sparking like electricity through your veins. Had you — the other you, the one who'd lived through everything and remembered every moment — gotten used to it? Had you gotten used to her expressing herself so openly, so freely, without a lick of fear? Had her admission of love become just another set of words the two of you exchanged, no different than a hello or a good morning?

For, hearing those words, hearing the absolute conviction in them, it didn't feel like something you could possibly get used to.

Rowena MacLeod didn't love just anyone. She didn't say it aloud for just everyone.

It was a privilege, and you were the only one privy to it.

She leaned down and, slowly, gently, making sure you were comfortable, pressed her mouth to yours. Electricity shot through you, engulfed you from your mouth down to the rest of your body. She tasted sweet, like sugar and love and everything nice and beautiful. Like heaven and hell all at once. Dark chocolate and honey. Scotch and wine. Teasing and indulging, giving you just enough of a taste to leave you desperate, to make you crave more.

You froze for a moment. A victim of your senses going haywire, of tingles flooding your limbs, burning your veins, setting you alight one little bit at a time. You'd imagined kissing Rowena so many times. Daydreamed it. Kissed the mirror in secret, pretending it was her. A couple times you'd engaged with strangers at bars, men and women alike, your eyes always closed to paint Rowena by your side instead of them; her arms around you, her lips on yours.

None of it could compare to this. She was a great kisser. The best you'd ever had. No fantasy could measure up to the real thing.

You wrapped your arms around her and deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, taking her — all of her, mind, body, and soul — in. Devouring her with every movement, every little twist and turn of your tongue.

She was everything you'd ever wanted, and more. Magic from her core to her person. Delicious. Enchanting. So addictive you never wanted to part from her, never wanted your skin to leave the warmth and comfort of hers.

As night fell, she laid down beside you and cuddled against you. She fit perfectly into your arms, a matching piece of a puzzle. Her head rested on your chest, your heart's gentle thuds lulling her to sleep. You watched her for a while, gently stroking her hair. She looked at peace. Comfortable. Safe. She trusted you in this most vulnerable state. Her breathing was slow and even, a calming little melody.

I'm so lucky to have you, you thought as you drifted off into slumber.

It was early morning when you opened your eyes. Rowena was the same as you'd left her, equally calm, deep in sleep. Yesterday seemed like a blur, a drunken-like stupor. Your head throbbed. Eyes prickled with exhaustion. After-effects of the curse, you supposed.

Your memories, to your grand relief, were back.

Rowena stirred, shifted against you. A moan, small, barely audible, fell from her mouth. Adorable to the bone.

A smile broke out on your mouth.

You really were lucky.

You wouldn't trade her for the world.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @evil-regal-vampiress @hellbentredhead @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock @fangirlxwritesx67 @theeasterbilby @midnight-lestrange @oster-hagen @impala-1979

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #rowena x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #my fics

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asmolbirb · 4 years

Text

A semi-comprehensive list of sexy moments in Love Run (2019) by The Amazing Devil

In honor of them hopefully releasing their new album today, I listened to their first album for the seven thousandth time and wrote down every moment that made my soul sing. I will not be talking (much) about lyrics here because I simply do not have the space to do so!

Love Run (Intro)

When Madeleine joins Joey on “love’s worth running to” and her voice goes up when his goes down. Ya bitch loves contrasting vocal harmonies!

The buildup of the “ahhh”

The quiet amalgam of lyrics from other tracks underlying the “ahhh” in the focus

King

The fact that King is in triple time is already Supremely Sexy

When Joey joins Madeleine on “let the seabirds cry” and the percussion drops out so it’s just vocals and guitar

How breathy Joey’s voice gets at “burning there”

The rhythmic buildup of the percussion under the second set of “let the seabirds cry”

“Every unwanted daughter” is just. Yeah.

Madeleine’s vocalizations under Joey’s “I’ll keep the king”s at the end of the song

Pruning Shears

Can I say “the whole song”? No? Fuck, okay, here we go

The percussive sound of the first verse, made all the more sexy because Joey has a tendency to close to consonants really quickly

(Also in the live version, the way Joey says “car is so kitch”)

The way Madeleine’s lines have overlapping syllables with Joey’s!! This is an Amazing Devil constant but it still FUCKS ME UP

How Madeleine’s line is actually lower than Joey’s at “had it all planned” emphasizing that this line/experience is from Joey’s POV whereas her verses are higher than Joey’s suggesting that her verses are her own POV

The vocalization under the second half of the final chorus !

The “whoa oh whoa oh” after the final chorus !!!

The percussive sound of Joey’s final “in the back” hhhh

Shower Day

Joey and Madeleine’s unison for the entirety of the first verse and chorus really underscores the way they split into harmony afterward

Just. The bi/pan solidarity of the “you” character both “lov[ing] him” and “kiss[ing] her sister” (OR, if you interpret the song like I sometimes do, the closeted struggle of “know[ing] you should love him” but wanting to “[kiss] her”)

The syncopation (hemiolas specifically) at “we’ll wear our eyeliner” !!!! Fuck me up!! (Also the solidarity of the male POV character/Joey wearing eyeliner too! We need more men in eyeliner, this is the future liberals want)

THE REVERBERATING PERCUSSION THAT JOINS IN AT “WELL I’M LOOKING BACK” AND ALSO LITERALLY EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWS. This whole portion of the song is full of so much heartache and desperation and emotion!!

The way Madeleine and Joey sing “For Christ’s sake just say something” in a round

The way Joey says his S’s in the repeated “say something” section at the end

Elsa’s Song

Okay so the fact that this starts off a cappella is massively sexy

How every verse ends with “forget me not”

Everything about Madeleine’s harmony!! It’s the return of the contrasting vocal harmony but turned up to 11. If I listed out every sexy piece of contrasting harmony I would simply have to list out the whole song

The introduction of the rhythmic percussion in the third verse

In general, how Madeleine is really leaning into her sop range here! It’s such a lovely contrast to Joey’s baritone. It’s a treat to hear her sop range shine when she tends to stick to mezzo/alto lines.

Pray

How Madeleine closes to a hum on “mean” in “what holy men really mean”

How Joey echoes Madeleine in the second verse

(How Madeleine ad libs the repeated “I won’t, I won’t pray for” section in the live version)

Madeleine’s ad libbed vocalization directly after the “I won’t, I won’t pray for” section. Heart eyes motherfucker

The repeated “oh oh oh” under Madeleine starting at “why you cannot sleep for sighing”

The harmonic buildup of all the background vocalizations under Madeleine’s final chorus. Like every new measure adds another layer of harmony and it’s just SO SEXY

Little Miss Why So

Suddenly I can’t see through the fucking waterfall taking up residence on my face

This is such a poignant description of depression and how difficult it is to explain to people who don’t get it

The part that fucks me up the most is the accelerated repetition of “it’s so boring” that releases into the a tempo “etc”, simultaneously emphasizing the lover’s frustration and encapsulating the narrator’s apathy. The buildup and release of tension is exquisite.

Also every time Joey joins in is just....incredible. The desperation of “For Christ’s sake, just say something” kills me every time.

But I can’t really in good conscience call anything in this song sexy because it’s all so...gentle and it just hits home so hard

So. Moving on

New York Torch Song

DID U MEAN. MY LIFEBLOOD.

The “fuck you”s both at the beginning and in the bridge

The slide on “tomorrow” in the intro right before the percussion kicks in

Joey’s “bright with every hum, ah-ah”

Joey’s humming under Madeleine’s “watch the fire” in the choruses

How the section starting with “god or devil” speeds up and adds more percussive complexity

The way Joey closes to the consonants when he sings “from within this”. It’s so delightfully sibilant !

How Madeleine laughs as she says “can’t we just talk about this”

The way Joey says “tippy toe tin rooftops” hnnnng it’s already a sexy lyric because of the alliteration but he makes it so much more percussive

THE WAY JOEY FLIPS UP ON “LIGHT” IN “TRICK OF THE LIGHT”. THE WAY HE HAS TO GO INTO HIS HEAD VOICE. THIS WHOLE POST IS SIMPLY AN EXCUSE TO DIE OVER THIS WORD.

Two Minutes

The fact that it’s a live recording and not a studio recording and there are all these little noises and echoes in the background

Madeleine harmonizing with words that are just barely intelligible, right up until she finally sings “I can hear the children calling,” is so damn haunting

The moment when the piano picks up !!!

Not Yet / Love Run (Reprise)

Buckle in kids !!! This song is 8 minutes long and every second is sexy!

The contrast between the gentleness of Joey’s voice and the almost anthemic determination of Madeleine’s voice in the verses, plus the alternation between acoustic guitar and heavy percussion

Madeleine’s “seams” vs Joey’s “seems”, Madeleine’s “hell” vs Joey’s “I held”, Madeleine’s “she’d howl” vs Joey’s “she’d hold”

Just. Everything about the Not Yet chorus. It makes me so fucking tender

Especially Joey’s diphthong in “pirates”; he closes to the long i sound almost instantly and it w r e c k s me

The way Joey says “everyone knows sex is better when you’re unemployed,” especially in the bridge right before the breakdown

(The way Joey says “you can’t dance for shit” in the live version)

The way Madeleine basically growls “Where is God, ma / Where’s the vodka”

The harmonies under the bridge right before the breakdown

The fact that Madeleine sings Love Run (Reprise) when Joey sang Love Run (Intro)!!! Inversion bitchesss

Joey’s entire verse in Love Run (Reprise) hhhhh -- it’s just rife with all his little vocal tics that make me absolutely feral

The vocalizations beneath the main track that start at Joey’s verse and continue through the end of the song

The tradeoff of “love run” between Joey and Madeleine

Madeleine’s “all that matters is that you’re here, all that matters” is so haunting and beautiful and sexy

The brief moment of acoustic respite at the start of the third verse

THE SHOUTED/GROWLED “RUN”S UNDER THE SECOND AND THIRD CHORUSES AAAAA

In conclusion:

This post was brought to you by a bisexual disaster who is an Amazing Devil stan first and a functional human second

I’m almost definitely missing some moments because I only listened to the album like twice while I made this post so please feel free to add your own sexy moments

Please, Joey and Madeleine, for the love of god release The Horror and The Wild, I am starving--

#the amazing devil #joey batey #madeleine hyland #love run #the horror and the wild

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 4 years

Text

The Sacrifice of Lila Rossi

Cyberpunk Mafia AU:

The small Medbay of The Garden had always been cramped, but ruthlessly organized to be the most efficient center for treatment in the city. Max, despite being someone that cared vary little for the acclaim and praise of others found joy in knowing that if he was known for anything, it was how well he could help people, especially since he was so often without the best methods to tackle a problem. He’ll often claim that when there are a thousand and one ways to use a paperclip, he could do the impossible with whatever he had on hand, he just wishes the universe didn’t actively try to test that theory…

In a rush a panic the crew of The Garden wheeled in a stasis pod, the contents of which was one Aurore frozen in a single moment within the chamber. Her eyes were wide in a mixture of fear and panic, several small burns littered her skin, a sign of far too many close calls at the wrong end of a plasma rifle, but the most prominent injury was the practical crater where her heart should have been the deep red of blood already overpowered the light blues of her usual attire well before she could make it into stasis.

“Alright I need a full report of the incident, no detail is too small.” Max rattled off to the panicked crew, already descending into his cocoon of holoscreens, processing information far faster than any normal human could. “Markov, activate ALL emergency protocols, I want to be prepared for the slightest hiccup.”

“Affirmative” a monotone synthetic voice rang out in the laboratory as several pieces of advanced equipment sprang to life.

“Please Doctor, you have to help her.” Sabrina begged as she refused to leave the side of pod. “I can’t just get my emotions back just to hurt like this. Please…”

“It’ll be ok Sabrina. Max is the best at what he does. Just let him do his thing” replied Rose who gently guided her away from the pod and into the arms of Chloe who hugged the girl with everything she could. “Alya, if you want your friend to get better, I suggest you answer his questions.”

“R-right” said Alya, snapping her attention from the pod, her whole body still shaking. “It was a mark III plasma rifle, like a really modified, really illegal model. We were so close to getting tangible proof that Argeste Industries was running corrupt experiments for the Mayor, we could finally put an end to the missing person posters… but there was this huge gorilla looking dude that attacked us. He looked like he was being mind controlled since his eyes were blank. He decked me and sent me flying into a wall. He was about to blast me point blank when Aurore blocked the shot with her umbrella. The blast tore right through it and got her in the heart. Thankfully, the broken umbrella made some kind of flashbang so I used a stasis capsule to try and stop the bleeding and got us here as fast as I could. She… She saved my life…” she took a moment to compose herself, trying to ground herself in the present. “I… I have the footage. Here.” Placing her palm on a terminal, a copy of the footage began playing on one of Max’s screens.

“Looks like you’ve found Gordan Rillan,” said Max. “He was a dock worker that used to work at the pier before the mayor allowed a competitor to take the whole thing over and put Gordan in serious debt. Argeste industries offered him a position and then he was reported missing shortly after. Scans seem to show he’s suffered an even more advanced version of whatever the hell they did to Kim… As for the blaster well, its partially radioactive and goes against several international laws. Her heart can’t be salvaged. The stasis prevented the spread of radiation but… there’s no fixing this without an outright replacement.”

“Please there has to be something!” Sabrina begged. What if I gave her my heart, I can survive being shut down for a while and we can fix me up later.”

“Unfortunately, since she doesn’t have a single interface, I can’t implant an artificial replacement. By the time I’ve put in the tech needed for a mechanical heart to work she’d already be gone. Unless we manage to find an organic option, and soon, I can’t do more than this and the stasis won’t hold forever.”

“Max.” everyone’s attention was brought to the main terminal which was glowing a bright pinkish orange, Lila’s true avatar on the screen. “What about project phoenix. I looked at the stats. They’re a match.”

“Lila… you do realize what you’re asking right?” Max asked, concern heavy in his voice.

“I do.”

“Alright…” inputting a few commands from his chair, a storage compartment opened up revealing a similar pod, only this one housed the same girl on the screen.

“Is that-” Alya began but couldn’t bring herself to finish.

“Yeah, it is.” Lila replied as she seemed to stare sadly at her own corpse. “when Gabriel, did what he did… he sold my body on the black market. Me and Max managed to find it before it was cut up, but the damage to the brain was too much. Max has been trying to hide that bit of info from me, maybe even try to lie to himself, but I already know the truth. I’m not coming back, at least not this way.” Her attention drifted to Sabrina who was beginning to understand the implications of what was about to happen. “The old me, the one long dead in that pod, she never once went out of her way for someone else, she never really could. She spent every day living by lying through her teeth. Other people were either targets or threats.”

“Sounds like a pretty lonely way to live…” commented Rose with sad compassion, remembering some of the patrons she couldn’t manage to save over the years.

“It was” replied Lila, a hollow chuckle punctuating her point. “It wasn’t until I ‘died’ that I finally found out that sometimes… people aren’t so bad. I somehow got myself a little brother in desperate need of my street smarts, but with a heart of absolute gold, and a Mom in desperate need of a vacation, but who actually looks at me, the absolute mess of a girl, and saw a daughter she actually said she was proud of… Heck if Clara keeps it up I might even have a second mom in the works.” There were some distortions to her avatar and you could swear they looked like tears. “and now that I know what it feels like to care about someone, I’m not about to let you lose the one you care about. Besides, we still need ‘Chameleon’ right now if we’re going to set things right after this.”

“Thank you so much Lila,” Sabrina replied, she reached a hand out to the terminal and her hand glowed ever so slightly the same color. It wasn’t a perfect touch, but Lila could feel the hand all the same, and Sabrina could the slightest sensation of someone grasping it.

“Lila,” Max caught her attention, “the promise still stands, I WILL bring you back one day.”

“I know you will Max. I’ll be looking forward to it. But for now we have a life to save, and the girl I once was deserves to do at least one good deed before she’s retired.” ———

Oh shit-

Well- damn Lila

Now that’s a fucking redemption arc holy shit

Thank you. That was fucking amazing.

I feel so bad for Aurore- what a trooper though- bitch got her heart exploded and she’s fucking fine

God dang

Poor Lila too—Holy shit I made her suffer in this au. Chameleon baby needs a break. Her accidentally becoming Adrien’s sister is really cute. I’m proud of her development, I hope I give her a happy ending.

Max and Lila being bro’s is lovely and fun. They’re too smart for their own good. This was amazing, thank you so much for this, I’m glad you guys like this au, I know I do.

#Mafia au #writing #lila redemption #lila rossi #ether-solrac #submission

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sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years

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Hey, ida if you're accepting request, but how about reader and Luke being dating for a few years but lately they're having a lot of fights and he's very busy with the album, and then there is the quarantine and instead of work things out they just avoid each other, so reader maybe learnt to play piano bc of Luke and sings out of love by Alessia Cara and Luke is just like "I fucked up" and well they try to make it work... Pretty please

Out of love - L. Hemmings

Requests are always open! Send them in here: REQUESTSSS

I absolutely adore this idea, and that song is gorgeous but I think it kind of went down hill as I wrote it! I hope you like it!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

After five years, Y/N and Luke had seen almost all of the bad times. You had been there from the very start. she held his hand while they all counted the seconds until the first album dropped. She stood by his side through scandals, and hate from fans and media alike. She was his rock, and he was hers.

The past month had been the most stressful of his career, and that really is saying something. Y/N tried her hardest to be there for him. The spread of the Coronavirus had everybody on edge, Y/N included. Luke, on the other hand, spent many hours of the day going over the effects the outbreak and impending quarantine could have on his career. Namely, the release of their newest album.

They had both hit the end of their ropes. Y/N would get defensive over the slightest comment, and Luke would lash out randomly. The stress spent more time building for the two of them than it did easing.

Arguments almost every day for two weeks, hours spent up at night sitting in a tense silence while trying to figure out the cause of their issues.

In five years, Y/N had never shouted at her love so much. In five years, Luke had never avoided his girl so much.

They hit rock bottom when a small question escalated into an argument.

"Honey? You okay?" She asked after she walked in on Luke launching his phone onto their shared bed.

"I'm fine." He barely looked at her, snapping the words out of pure frustration at the world.

At this point, it was hard for Luke to see anything other than anger. He was simply so aggravated with everything that he could barely even acknowledge who he directed his anger towards.

Unfortunately, Y/N was quickly growing to be the same way.

"Rather than being an ass about it, you could just talk to me, you know?" She snipped, rolling her eyes at the tall man.

From there, it escalated dramatically. Insults were thrown, screams were released, and finally, Y/N told him to leave.

"If you would stop being an uptight bitch for one second, you would realize that I don't need your goddamn help, Y/N!"

Her mouth dropped at the words, and his jaw mirrored the action. It was the last straw. They had both thrown many insults at one another over the years, but the malice in his voice told her that he meant every word.

"Get the hell out." She turned away from him, intending to leave the room. "I'm not dealing with your self-centered bullshit anymore, Luke."

"I'm not leaving my own house," He scoffed, and a sarcastic laugh escaped from his throat.

She turned back to him, eyes full of unshed tears and an anger he had never before seen plastered on her face.

"Fine. You wanna stay? Then stay." her hands found her suitcase - the same one Luke had bought her for the bands 'Sounds Live, Feels Live" tour - and began piling clothes inside. She didn't pay attention to what was thrown in, but as soon as it was full, and she had kissed Petunia on the head, she left.

She found herself on Crystal's doorstep, tears falling from her eyes, sobs wracking her form.

She was ordered to stay at the Clifford household until she was ready to go back home. Back to him.

A week had passed and nothing. She tried to call him after five days and the call went straight to his voicemail.

Despite the presence of one of her best friends, and the overly cheerful Michael Clifford, she couldn't shake how lonely she was without the presence of the man she loved.

She made the decision to leave the house. She wanted some space.

She expected a call or something after a few days. She expected him to answer the phone when she called, even if it ended in a screaming match. She wanted at least something to remind her that she was still his.

A few days later, and they were required to enter quarantine. Crystal, in all her overbearing instincts, ordered her to occupy their spare bedroom until she could go back to her own house.

Which meant more time away from Luke.

14 days had passed and he had ignored every one of her calls, her messages. She had even tried to send him a message on Instagram in hopes that she would get a reply. She simply got left on open.

After five years, he had made it clear that he was done with her, and she was truly heart broken.

Her emotions got the best of her and she had found herself toying with the piano that Michael had in his practice room.

She was flooded with memories of countless secret lessons spent with Ashton in hopes of learning one of their songs for Luke. Y/N knew how much music meant to Luke, and she thought it would be a good way to pull some emotion from him during the tough time, but unfortunately, she never got so far.

For the first time in their relationship, Luke had counted down the seconds until release alone. He should have been happy but all he could feel was guilt flow through his body with every beat of his heart.

It killed him to think of his girl sitting all alone, counting the minutes down as they had for the previous three albums.

It hurt him to keep a smile on his face through the Instagram lives, and talk about how he wrote some of the lyrics to 'Lover of Mine' with the woman.

What really struck a chord in him, was the video she had posted the day after the release.

The picture was black and white, similar to the one he uploaded of his 'Best Years' performance.

Y/N was positioned at a piano, as she skillfully played the intro to an Alessia Cara song she loved, but he couldn't remember the name.

He had heard her sing before, but never to this extent. She looked at home with the keys in front of her.

I won't tell you I'm lonely, 'cause it might be selfish. I won't ask you to hold me 'cause that won't mend what's helpless.

His stomach dropped as the lyrics flooded his mind. The song was about an intense heartbreak, a longing for answers.

He could faintly see the outline of a tear dropping down her cheek, but she kept her voice strong. The black and white video was chosen especially to hide her emotions.

There's not a thing I could say, not a song I could sing for your mind to change.

He knew the song was dedicated to him. He didn't know when she had learned to play his favourite instrument, but he was lost in the perfection of her every move.

His heart yearned to hold the woman in his arms and apologize for every wrong he had committed over the past month and a half.

But let me ask you one thing, oh, when did you fall out of love? Out of love. Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?

He knew she was hurting. He had avoided her messages because he was too blinded by his own anger and stress to truly realize the damage he had done to the woman.

She looked physically in pain, yet her beauty still radiated through the grey scale video. Tears dropped from his own eyes as he witnessed the woman he loved experience such heartache.

She truly believed he had fallen out of love with her because of his actions.

He had hurt her so deeply.

Before he could finish the video, his keys were in hand and he was slamming the door behind him.

The doorbell rang through Michael and Crystal's house and Y/N made a move to get the door. They were all stumped as to who it could be, as everybody was to maintain social distance and only leave the house to retrieve essentials.

As soon as the door was opened, a mop of blond curls had attacked her, wrapping his long arms around her body and dragging her into one of the many rooms of the Clifford house, leaving a very confused Michael and Crystal watching the scene from a lounge.

The door was closed behind them, but the large human had yet to detach himself from her body and instead, ended up kneeled in front of her, forehead pressed against her stomach and sobs shaking his body against hers.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I fucked up. I fucked up big time," his voice was wet through the heavy sobs and her fingers went to his hair, hoping to soothe him enough to calm the tears.

Luke felt so guilty. He had hurt her so much and not had a single care for the repercussions. He was selfish and convinced the woman, who had stood by his side for five years, through so much, that he didn't love her.

All because he was stressed over the album.

"Luke-"

"No," he cut her off, standing to his feet so she can see the intensity of his puffy eyes, "No. You have every right to be mad at me. I fucked up, Y/N. I was so worried about how we were going to promote the album and what was going to happen with the quarantine that I took it out on you. I can't apologize to you enough."

She had spent too many sleepless nights wondering if he would ever speak to her again, and if he still loved her that she was at a loss of words when he finally made contact.

"Luke," she tried, taking a moment to piece together what she wanted to say. "You can be such an asshole sometimes."

He laughed at the emission, waiting with bated breath to find out if she still wanted him around.

"I will forever be in your corner. I will always be on your side, and I act like an overbearing bitch because I care about you, but so help me, if you ever say that to me again, I won't forgive you," Her voice was strict, and he nodded at the instructions.

He can't believe he let the words fall from his lips. He would never intentionally hurt the woman, and he was beyond disgusted at himself for making her think he would ever stop loving you.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he stated, pulling into another hug.

"I love you too, Lu."

"You're only meant to leave the house for essentials, Lucas!" Michael screeched from the doorway, cringing at the couple while Crystal rolled her eyes at him.

"I know. Y/N is the only essential I need."

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings x reader #5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #crystal leigh #calum hood #ashton irwin #petunia #requests #send em in kiddos

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

75 Criminal Minds Prompts

Some of these can easily go very, very dirty, and yes I’m talking about Morgan and Garcia conversations and honestly would it be a list without them?

1 “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you’ve really stopped to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do. ― Hotch

2 “Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone.”― David Rossi

3 “Destroying a book is like…destroying a whole world.” — Diana Reid

4 “Trust me, kiddo. I’ve been here before.” ― David Rossi

5 “I’ve always heard every ending is also a beginning. We just don’t know it at the time. I’d like to believe that’s true.” — Emily Prentiss

6 “He is the perfect man. He doesn’t hog the covers, and he poops in a box.” — Emily Prentiss

7 “Went on a diet last night. Lost 185 pounds.” — Dr. Tara Lewis

8 “Marital bliss followed by marital diss! Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” — Penelope Garcia

9 “I don’t take kindly to being blown up. In fact, it kind of pisses me off.” — Derek Morgan

10 “You know, I've learned that, in the short time I've had the privilege of being a dad... it heals wounds, just being there for your kid.” — David Rossi

11 “What makes you feel confident?” “Statistics.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

12 “NAME , believe me when I say this, I've never known a normal day in my entire life.” — Dr Spencer Reid

13 “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” — Dr Spencer Reid

14 “No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication.” “What are you implying, NAME?” “That everyone is medicated.” — Dr Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia

15 “He/She doesn't give a damn about black or white. The only color that son of a bitch cares about is green.” — Dr Spencer Reid

16 “I don't know everything. I mean, despite the fact that you think that I do.” “I never said that. When have I ever said that?” “Every day since I met you!” — Dr Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan

17 “I never have any normal fans.” — Dr Spencer Reid

18 “Hey, Baby Girl, whatever you’re doing, drop it.” — Derek Morgan

19 “Talk to me, Baby Girl.” — Derek Morgan

20 “There you go, Baby Girl, that’s sweet.” — Derek Morgan

21 “Give it to me, doll face.” — Derek Morgan

22 “Hey, doll face. Ready to work some magic for me?” — Derek Morgan

23 “Hey, silly girl. I love you, you know that, right?” — Derek Morgan

24 “Hey girl, you’re on speaker. Behave.” “Or what, you’ll spank me?” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

25 “It was once said that love is giving someone the ability to destroy you, but trusting them not to.” — Derek Morgan

26 “Hey baby girl, I need you to work that magic of yours.” “Rub my lamp, release the Genie.” — Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia

27 “You really are afraid of the dark.” “I'm working on that.” “You should work a little harder.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

28 “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, pump your brakes. What is this about?” — Derek Morgan

29 “Oh, and if you hate sad stories as much as I do, you should leave the room right now, 'cause this is super sad!” — Penelope Garcia

30 “Enchantress of all things possible, use your imagination.” — Penelope Garcia

31 “My least three favorite words strung together: I don't know.” — Penelope Garcia

32 “Hello, my pretties. I have seen the wizard and he granted my wish.” — Penelope Garcia

33 “She knew where to toe the line between right and raunchy.” — Penelope Garcia

34 “OK, let me get you on a secret: Guys, we don’t do well on subtle clues, OK? You got to be direct, straight up. Just tell him exactly what you want!” — Derek Morgan

35 “It’s who you are, Baby Girl. You see the beauty in everything and everyone no matter where you go. That part of you is never gonna change, and I won’t let it.” — Derek Morgan

36 “NAME, people need to know that they're important and sometimes you forget that.” — Hotch

37 “Don't you have something better to do?” “Than to annoy you for three hours? Hell no.” — Hotch and Derek Morgan

38 “I think, deep down, we're all capable of unspeakable things. Where it starts or what you call it, I don't know.” — Hotch

39 “NAME, this is the job, and I need to know that you can be objective.” “And I need to know that I can be human.” — Hotch and Emily Prentiss

40 “Scars show us where we have been, they do not dictate where we are going.” — Rossi

41 “You don't need to do anything you don't want to. Understand?” — Rossi

42 “Just be careful. That ego of yours is going to get you in trouble." — Rossi

43 “Somewhere along the line, I put myself first. I admit it, but I can't go back and change it." — Rossi

44 “It could be that, after all of these years, I rewrote history." — Rossi

45 “Time will pass and slowly you will find how much it hurts. And, maybe, you'll find something else to fill that empty space." — Rossi

46 “Where you headed?” “Nowhere in particular.” “How will you know when you get there?” — Rose and Gideon

47 “Only a man would waste $50 trying to win back that $3 stuffed animal.” — JJ

48 “This is my favorite part. This is where you hang yourself with your own tongue. So, please keep talking.” — JJ

49 “My father/mother believes that children shouldn't be shielded from the realities of the world. I do! Isn't that why we read them fairy tales in the first place?” — JJ

50 “Oh god, please tell me you don't have a crush on a fictional character.” — JJ

51 “You are the best ever.” “Aw, and you're the most perceptive.” — JJ and Garcia

52 “I once dated a guy/girl who washed his/her car more than he/she washed his/her hair.” — JJ

53 “Don't tell me what I want and don't want.” — JJ

54 “You do what it takes to protect your family.” — JJ

55 “Look, I don't speak smartass.” — Michael Russo

56 “How's it having NAME around?” “You can have him/her back whenever you would like.” Hotch and Garcia

57 “So, NAME, when are you and NAME walking down the aisle?” “Hey, whoa, whoa. Baby steps. Baby steps.” “When NAME says "I do", it'll be a national day of mourning for single men/women everywhere.” — Rossi, Morgan and Reid

58 “Ugh! This heat is brutal!” “You know, it isn't so much the heat as it is the humidity.” “At some point, it doesn't matter how you look at it. It all sucks.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

59 “Need a minute?” “So, so badly.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

60 “Hey. I came as soon as I could. What's wrong?” — Matt Simmons

61 “We ask questions, and we come home.” “No creepy weirdness?” “No weirdness.” “Good, 'cause I'm about full up in the creepy weirdness department for one night.” — Matt Simmons and Penelope Garcia

62 “Ooh, what about this one? Sunny, two-bedroom. It's close to work. And it's in your price range.” “NAME, you're moving? You don't like change.” “That's true. Change is my kryptonite. But the apartment is no longer a sanctuary. I have a new neighbor. Window's right here. He enjoys doing naked kung fu. Some things you cannot unsee.” — JJ, Simmons and Garcia

63 “Thank you.” “For what?” “For being you.” “Aw, thanks. I don't know how to be anyone else.” — Emily Prentiss and Dr Spencer Reid

64 “When a woman tells a man about her feelings, she doesn't want him to fix her. She wants him to shut up and listen.” — Emily Prentiss

65 “I just feel I can't understand others' emotions if I don't deal with my own, you know?” “The best way out is always through.” “Too bad it's not always the easiest one.” “You're not kidding.” — Dr Tara Lewis and Rossi

66 “It helps if they think you're crazy. They don't argue.” — Diana Reid

67 “I don’t hate you ... I’m just not necessarily excited about your existence.” — Dr Spencer Reid

68 “There are many paths to the same place. Trust me.” “Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie.” — Hotch

69 “I’m always right. Also, you’re secretly in love with me.” — Penelope Garcia

70 “I just gave the bartender my number in Roman numerals. If he/she figures it out, he’s/she’s worth a shot.” — Dr Spencer Reid

71 “Shh, the adults are talking. When it’s your turn to speak, I’ll give you permission. Okay?” — JJ

72 “Hey, mama, tell me something I don’t know.” — Derek Morgan

73 “Talk dirty to me.” — Penelope Garcia

75 “Hey, don’t make me spank you when I get back.” “Don’t listen time him/her, NAME, he’s/she’s all talk.” — Derek Morgan and Dr Spencer Reid

#criminal minds prompts #criminal minds quotes #dialogue prompts #writing prompts #david rossi #derek morgan #dr spencer reid #emily prentiss #jj #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #nswfish

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demonfox38 · 3 years

Text

Completed - Zelda II: The Adventure of Link

Oh, my language is going to be vulgar on this one.

So, I'm a crusty millennial who likes old garbage. Most of the media I like is old enough to drink and be a member of the US congress, but probably couldn't be due to the country that produced it. Now, I'd like to think that I've got good reasons to like older media, particularly when it comes to video games. It's a bit hard for my NES to bug me for microtransactions/DLC and emanate the screams of children and man-children alike. But, as much as I like my retro junk, there's one thing I'm very, very happy about regarding modern video games. The variety of game types now-a-days is a blessing. It's rare that someone is stellar at all game types, and I sure have my weaknesses.

It took me a long time to realize that I could be good at video games, and I wholly blame the glut of 1980s platforming games on that.

Look, platforming is not a forgiving genre. Particularly, back in the day where you had characters dying in 1-3 hits before factoring in death pits. It existed then for the reason that fourteen million instakill indie horror games exist now. Instantly killing the player is a lot easier to code than, say, having to track a health bar or their new position as an enemy swats them into a different room. Sometimes, a coder's gotta do what they can to keep themselves sane.

But, from a player's perspective, this style sucks!

Getting good at a platforming game requires practicing the same levels over and over again, developing a sense of your character's inertia and limitations. Without a save state or a warp to narrow in on a particularly troublesome location, it's hard to get learning to stick. You could lose a lot of games and time trying to put it all together. And some poor little character is always suffering because of your ineptitude! Such failure feels like a fork in an electrical socket. Succeeding in these circumstances requires a great deal of emotional resilience and a contrary attitude. And you know what? That's just not something I had as a kid. In fact, one could say I had my aggression and competitive drive scolded out of me. I'm just now getting that back.

So, yeah. I had a little trouble with "Zelda II: The Adventure of Link."

"Zelda II" is part of a trifecta of NES games that get routinely shit on by retro reviewers. Like its peers "Super Mario Bros. 2" and "Castlevania II", this game is generally considered an inferior game due to an extreme change of gameplay and appearance from its predecessors. And you know what? That attitude sucks. I'd rather have a variety of different games with a cast I like than have them pigeon-holed into one genre. In "Zelda II"'s case, however? The game mechanic shift was so extreme that I can easily see the ire it raises. Hell, I felt it. I wouldn't go so far to say that it's the worst Zelda game ever, but man, does it have structural defects.

In "Zelda II", Link's goal is to save an ensorcelled Zelda from eternal slumber by picking up a Triforce chunk that was pitched into a fuck-off palace way at the edge of Hyrule. (No, not the Zelda from the first game. Another Zelda. Same Link, though.) To do that, he's got to slap six gemstones into various temples across the countryside. Naturally, that includes picking up his trusty sword, leaping into battle, and then maybe straight into a death pit.

That's right. This Zelda is actually a Mario.

Further complicating the matter is a sharp switch in battle style and item accruement. While the previous Zelda game was about room management and ranged combat (or at least, as much as that was allowed), this game is all about jamming Link's dinky sword into an enemy's face and running off as fast as he can. Now, Link can learn a few tricks to help with the slash and dash, like directional stab mechanics and spells. But, as far as getting new weapons to help you? Sorry, bud. No bombs or boomerangs here. Well, except for the assholes throwing boomerangs at you, anyway. You just can't steal them.

The game encourages polishing the player's skill with Link through a level system. After acquiring XP through good ol' fashioned monster murdering, Link can cash his points out, improving his life, magic, or attack power. As the player levels him up, stats become more costly to improve. If Link gets a total game over before you use your XP, it is wiped out. Alright, fine. Fair, I guess. But, I wouldn't recommend looking at Japanese footage of this game if you don't want to give yourself a migraine. It turns out that as a part of some rebalancing, the level-up system was stacked to try and keep players from dumping all of their points into a single stat early into the game. Particularly, attack. Considering how painful and annoying enemy logic gets in this game, it's such a drag to learn that Japanese players literally could cut their way right out of that struggle. Thanks for dicking with the game design again, American publishers.

I guess we got better looking sprites and sound effects out of the deal? Hooray for wiggly Barba.

Even with leveling mechanics and a handful of heart and magic containers, this Link feels much frailer than the original Zelda's Link. Like, it's hard to believe he's supposed to be the same guy. Even at max health and defense, you could get Link wiped out with 8-32 hits (as opposed to 16-64 hits from the first game.) Exacerbating that is a life system that can yoink those health bars at any pit's whim and Link's range/health restoration being tied to a limited pool of magic. It feels like you're playing with a ceramic replica of the original character. You can make it work in a fight, sure, but you'd rather have a sword than a shard of a broken teapot.

If you don't have a bushido-level acceptance of death, you're not going to make it very far in this game. I'm not being hyperbolic. You have to accept that you are going to kill Link. You're going to watch that little fairy boy fade to black as the world flashes around him, and you're going to see that a lot. You're going to toss his bitch ass into the river to get a game over and restock your lives because fuck if you're going to wipe out inside a dungeon and have to start your bitch ass back at Zelda's temple again. That little counter on the main menu isn't how many times you have wiped out. It's how many times you've clawed your way out of the abyss with a middle finger raised.

Oh. Minor epilepsy warning on boss and Link deaths, by the way.

Having gone full bleak there for a moment, there are a few pieces of knowledge that can help slow down the cycle of life and death:

There are towns with nice ladies in red dresses and orange robes that will heal your ass for free. You should talk with them a lot.

There are classes of enemies that will drop items after they have been killed six times. Most of the time, this is a magic bottle that restores MP. Sometimes, it's a bag of experience. No monster will drop anything to heal your HP.

Also, some enemies are literal rat bastards that steal your XP. Some also give you no XP on killing them. Yeah. I know. Annoying.

The Life spell is in Saria. The downward stab is in Mido. (I realize these are very strange sentences if you're more familiar with "Ocarina of Time.") Getting these can make a night and day difference in surviving the game. So, keep that in mind.

You do get a spell that will turn you into a fairy. You can use it to game pits and sneak past lock doors. Just don't abuse it too much. It's expensive.

The dungeons have this little statue in front of them that you can whack with your sword. In most locations, it'll drop either a magic bottle or an Iron Knuckle. Game entering and exiting a dungeon as much as possible to restore yourself to full vitality.

You can get into random fights on the overworld (represented either by a little black blob or a more threatening human-sized blob.) Staying on gold roads will mean these encounters produce no enemies.

Also, you can use those random battles to override forced platforming sections. Not that I would recommend cheating in such a fashion. 😉

The game will give you a level up after you plug a gemstone into a dungeon. If you're close to leveling up anyway, turn around and grind up to the top, cash in what you've got, and then go pitch that gem.

Link has a crouch, not a duck. You think pressing down on the D-pad will evade projectiles aimed at your face, but it does not. Crouching is only good for blocking floor-level garbage. It's best not to think of the down button as much as possible, really. Only use it to pick up crap off the ground and cheese the final boss. Otherwise, jump.

I know that I said earlier that "Zelda II" is mechanically like a Mario game, but you know what other perspective might help? Try and play Link as a Metroidvania Castlevania character. There's an attack style in games like "Castlevania: Symphony of the Night" and "Aria of Sorrow" where you walk, jump, and attack in such a way that you never stop moving forward. That's what you've got to do. Walk, jump at an enemy, bonk on forehead. (Depending on how fast you press the attack button, you may need to delay swinging your sword just a teeny bit. At least, I had a bad habit of swinging too early.) With any luck, when you hit the ground, you will be able to keep on moving. You do not want to get stuck playing "poke-the-hole" with your enemies, particularly with how turtle-y some of them can get.

So, the game's a brutal bitch, but I don't want to spend the entire time shitting on it. Let's talk about improvements.

Honestly, I like the sprite style of the side-scrolling sections better than the previous game. Everyone/thing has more room to be rendered, so they look clearer. I can't say the monster or dungeon design here is my favorite, but hey. Easy to see. Yippie. Could have used a map though. Maybe some more tile textures in the dungeons?

NO. STOP. BE NICE.

There are more people around that want to help Link out. Like, whole towns filled with helpful healing ladies and dudes that will teach you magic and the occasional sword strike. Most of their conversation makes sense (although, there's a memetastic fault in translation regarding a character being named Error instead of what I'm assuming should have been Errol.) People good. Want to help people. People help me.

Except for towns where some of the people are monsters, and one of the times they overlapped a healing lady to get text box priority, and then they killed me. Boo.

I'M SORRY. I HAD A HARD TIME.

The music variety is pleasant. Only a few tracks have escaped the game to go into use elsewhere, but there's only one that I'm really iffy on. The NA release did a fine job transposing what they could using a different sound chip, and there are striking uses of the sample channel being used in ominous situations.

But…like…I struggle to see where fighting through this game is worth it. And maybe it comes down to the final boss. Like, the penultimate one? Absolutely cool. A bitch to fight, but I can't knock how massive and intricate its sprite is. But, the final boss? I suppose it comes down to personal tastes, but I find mirror matches/rivals to be exceedingly dull. Like, good for you. You know how I fight. I do too. Come back to me when you know the weaknesses of my style and use a fresh set of skills to throw at me.

Like, it's not the worst ending in the Zelda series. (My vote for that would go to "Link's Awakening.") You do get Zelda saved. But, given that the final boss is some kind of dark clone of yourself…it begs a lot of questions. Was there any concrete plan for the forces of darkness in Hyrule, or were various monster tribes just scuffling around, being dicks without any overarching plan? Were some monsters trying to keep you out of the Great Palace for a good reason? Would there have been any threat of Ganon reviving at all if Link just…sat on his ass behind a castle for the next century or managed his anxiety in a different way? Why does the manual bother to separate Zeldas and the game does not? Oh, wait. The Japanese intro correctly distinguishes this and the American one does not. Why am I not surprised? What's the difference if you don't see the Zelda you saved from the first game, anyway?

This game is a lot of work. I had to psych myself up to play it every time, and by the end, I was rattled enough by my nerves that I literally camped in my bathroom for a few minutes just to make sure I didn't get sick on the couch. Very stressful. And I'm not sure that stress was worth it, frankly. Life's hard enough as it is right now. I literally have a stress rash on my neck from the shit I'm going through in real life. No, you did not need to know about that. But maybe you need to know that I've been having a hard time lately, and this game did nothing to alleviate me from the stresses of reality. And what's the point in checking out from reality if a fantasy world is just going to make me miserable, too?

There are better games to play in this style. Hell, there are better games on the NES in this style. You know what you should go play? "Faxanadu." It's uglier than "Zelda II", sure. An absolute idiot when it comes to basic mathematics. But it's very chill about platforming and death. And maybe I just want to chill the fuck out for a while.

#post game evaluation #zelda ii: the adventure of link

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unikornu · 4 years

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Alright, let's go with... ❌, 💋, 🧡, 🍋, 🌠 for Lucy aaaand 🔥, 🍐, 🌸 for Harrison?

Thank youuuuu for ask. Good lord it will be long. Let’s go with Lucy first:

❌ What kind of things would end any relationship for them? Is there a history behind why these things bother them? Could they ever take someone back despite this? If so or if not, why?

If her partner would try to keep convincing her to change the way she lives or looks. She likes how she is and assumes if a person ends up in a relationship with her that means they accept her for how she is including the bad traits too. You take the whole package or get the hell out. All her life she heard what is right to do, how a girl should act and so on in a place that was corrupted to the bone so she wouldn’t take it. She lied to her pre-war boyfriend Ian about her criminal job with Harrison and regretted it to the very end so she would rather not pretend in any relationship anymore that she is different person than she is and if one would try to convince her that “sure there is still some goodness in your heart, you just lost it on your way, lemme help you” they are out of that relationship, no way back unless they stop japping their mouth about it. She knows she is bad, she knows she still has a pinch of humanity left, but she likes who she is, accepts it fully and doesn’t take criticisms for it. Hope...it made some sense...uhm.

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

Uhmmm i think i will just write how she would spend time with those who she calls friends and so on if its okay like that. With friends she is more emotional about it rather than physical. She respects the “private distance” which is not very often visible in raider world in public like that.

Lizzie Wyath: She would mostly come late evening into her lab and agree on doing some tests with her. She trust her enough to not expect any holes or explosions in her face at the end of the day. She would always open up to her about her fears and some spicy details about Gage while drinking their asses under the table. Girly chit chats.

William Black: She knows he has a crush on her but doesn’t push the idea of being friends anyway. They would occasionally go on a patrols around Nuka Town if Gage would be occupied with something else or secretly meet at Parlor for a late dinner. She doesn’t mind going a bit more physical around him because of the knowledge that he is interested if Porter wouldn’t be in the way. She would brush his shoulder and even leave him a kiss on a cheek if dinner ended nicely without disruptions but she would stop there. If he would try to kiss her she would just place a finger on his lips and direct him to the side.

Mason: Howling together and organizing shit parties but nothing else. Eventually she would keep assuring him she has her best interest in the pack as well and show her affection by completing a various tasks for him. She would ensure her loyalty to him back as a way of affection.

Also there is Shelbie and Chip Morse along with Maddox. Making friends with traders isn’t a good thing to show around but she shows her affection towards them by keep asking about their needs and manages in the end to get rid of their collars so here she goes fully emotional. Even if they are ladder below them she considers them friends and will often ask about their well being daily.

So in general she mostly goes the emotional way with friends rather than physical but it again depends on many factors like with William as example.

Now for Gage, oh boy. They are partners so she will display all kinds of physical affection later on but mostly in privacy. Brushing his shoulder when tinkering around his rifle, pulling him by his shirt for a kiss out of nowhere, don’t start me on swinging to radio and performing some dance around him like a paradise fucking bird. Because Gage doesn’t like to talk about feelings, neither she actually at that time they just need to look and gaze in each other eyes to know they are freaking good or to spot if anything is wrong. No words needed. Funny thing is that for both of them just saying “i love you” is fucking hard so even after their first time they still didn’t say it but they know. Actions baby, actions.

So she is more emotional towards her friends but going full physical with the partner. Maybe emotions are becoming a bit scary when you lean deeper with someone...Man these questions are hard :))

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

I can’t call any celebrity but from a people who she met it would be probably Rosey, her red-haired co-worker from Sapphire Club in pre-war. She was just perfect for her, beautiful, confident, deadly, efficient and danced as hell, bringing all the eyes in the crowd to her. The outfits always shining and on point. She was a star of that freaking club and she knew it while on the other side being as efficient and more balanced killer than her. Woman of many talents and some deadly ones too. Although the reason she was so good was the fact she was very lonely and no one would miss her if she would die in action so she always pulled herself to the very top, for herself mostly. No regrets whatsoever, neither lies hidden from anybody she cared about but her clients.

🍋 Does your OC act petty and jealous easily? What sort of things make them feel like this and do they experience guilt for getting so worked up? How do they deal with these emotions when they get them? If your OC doesn’t feel like this often, why not?

I couldn’t for shit understand the petty word no matter how deep i would stare in dictionary so i will stick to jealous. She will get jealous when someone would display better knife skills and overall the range of “killer” skills. She was trained to be the perfect little puppy to her owner so the thought of someone eventually showing around and being as good or hell better would strike her in a way. But she wouldn’t bitch publicly about it, neither to Gage. She would deal with it by training harder to the point she would eventually break down mentally if failing to achieve higher level of some skill. She would feel guilt to herself of not being able to do more and eventually just go drink and go for another round of calmex trip just to hear Gage yelling at her again for being irresponsible and stupid and then feeling guilt again for acting on emotions like that. What a healthy carousel for her. If someone would try to flirt with Gage she wouldn’t feel any of it, neither be jealous cus she knows bitch will be dead eventually in some alley anyway if she won’t stop. If Gage tho would go with the flirt along then he will just end up with a decorated beaten eye and very grumpy business partner.

🌠 Who was your OC’s first friend? Do they remember them or are they still friends now? Talk about some of the people your OC has lost contact with over the years. Do they have any regrets about losing these people and would they revist them if they could?

From people she considered friends that are still present even if they were kind of bastards was Harrison as he is the only one that survived the bombs and is all fine and well. He didn’t even age one bit due to being supernatural but he is like past his 40′s. It was a bit of toxic friendship mixed with job but after all they were friends anyway and he cared for her despite what happened. She didn’t make any solid friends as a kid due to her mother’s mental issues and her being the weird scary kid beating boys and girls around who were just looking weird at her.

Ian and Rosey didn’t survive the bombs so they are gone but between these two she would like to have Rosey back as she was her best friend in her criminal life and they worked together (and the idol of sort as i mentioned above). She wouldn’t dare to bring or meet Ian again even if he would be alive because she loved him and she feels guilty as fuck for lying to him all that time but she was too chickenshit scared to reveal anything to him in fear of losing him...well she lost him anyway but yeah.

Harrison’s round now:

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

Its hard to go fallout likes/dislikes for now on him so i will just write what i know so far:

Harrison is a typical classic grumpy man who likes a good glass of whiskey, his white shirts smooth and clean as well as some classic music when he chills around with his legs rested on the table. He smokes a lot too but always with his drink, never without.

He sticks to the same wardrobe choice with neutral colors like his closet would be filled with few pieces of the same coat, hat and shirts. As much as he doesn’t care about variety he cares about quality. His coat is bulletproof as well as his hat. Very practical and experienced man. Hates to get a blood on his white shirt. Will bitch about it.

He actually likes to do job as well with Lucy and Gage later on but pre-war he was forced to stay low due to vault-tech still sniffing around for him to bring him back to the lab and finish the experiment. They never got to him, luckily but he still has to be careful around Institute.

Highly dislikes irresponsible and stupid people who act like Lucy used to. He always likes to have a decent plan, very organized man. As Gage and Lucy he has same likes when it comes to lifestyle but won’t get involved as much as to protect their asses.

He prefers to travel at quiet, cloudy nights, especially when its foggy due to his supernatural skills. He doesn’t like to drag attention. He likes to take night walks around the town when his company is asleep and lowly whistle under his nose while playing with smoke in his fingers and scare nearby raiders who still stroll around by manipulating with objects around. (he can use telekinesis to move objects and sometimes people)

He loves his hat and no one dare to touch it or take it away or you will face a wrath of green smoky goo.

He likes killing in general as an action, he puts his full focus on a task at hand, be it killing or yelling at Lucy for being stupid again.

He does feel guilt for failing to protect his son and family before the war so he likes to show his affection around Lucy and just be around for her with some good advice.

🍐 What is your OC’s mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

He is rather negative but due to preference to be rather not surprised in the end, again. Healthy pessimism. In the end he failed a fuckton with protecting his son and became a living experiment without his knowledge nor will so he isn’t the most cheerful old folk but will still crack a joke or smile because he prefers to turn his focus on what’s still left.

He doesn’t dwell much in a past, he is more of “here and now” when it comes to his thought process. He knows he can’t change the past so will focus on current situation but neither without overanalyzing it as much as to just make sure his company is safe. He will turn his focus to Porter too because Lucy cares about him. His mind due to his soul powers mostly works as a set of strong desires and needs at the current moment and will focus on these. But overall he is just a disappointed, tired man who failed a lot back then, regrets it but moves on with a stoic face and uses his powers to protect the ones he cares about, no matter if they are criminals or raiders.

🌸 What does your OC’s voice sound like? Their laugh? Are they good at singing? Do they have an accent?

I must say that i chose Teddy Wright as his “base” to making him in game also due to the voice. I would totally go for that voice, it just fits his looks and even the laugh but would probably add some hoarseness to it as he drinks and smokes quite a lot and no amount of supernatural powers will help you with that. If something would make him laugh real hard he would laugh very loudly but end up with coughing shortly after. He isn’t good at singing but he can whistle really well and even make some bird sounds or whistle whole songs or other interesting sounds.

#rockshortage #thank youuuu #lucy feit #harrison #whoa that was fucking hard but i think i got everything okay #ye that petty word caused me some brain error #also i fucking love how i got idea of Harrison just by taking a shower and now he became like an actual character with feelings and shit #and yeah the teddy voice is just great and i would go for it for him as aswell #and yeah Harrison is supernatural #i decided on that #he has a set of fine and weird skills like that telekinesis #or literally releasing his soul to swallow enemies till dust is left #i wonder what would hector think of him tho...i mean...its not normal occcurance in wasteland

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mama-m1na · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse: Chapter 8

~~~VIII~~~

When the time actually came for the group to start their operation Rhamina was correct in assuming that it was another 'Distract and Attack' mission.

Kiran had somehow arranged for them to perform at the casino that night and even got other members of Yukitara's group to accompany them as a jazz ensemble.

The other three members of Apocalypse would be acting as the group's bodyguards, but when they began performing they would be searching for members of the gang they would be confronting.

"God, this outfit is the shit!" the ravenette chirped as she took a look at herself in the mirror, "I still want to know how Hana got my sizes though."

The outfit consisted of a cropped purple halter top with pleated layers at the front, a matching skirt that had a high slit up the left side which allowed for free movement despite the skirt reaching the floor.

Some of her back and stomach were showing, but the teen still looked pretty classy with her hair down to hide the skin of her back and the jewelry she never took off.

When the time came for them to head off, they rode with Kiran and the rest of their allies in a white limo: which was slightly difficult for Cloud with his buster sword, but he managed.

"Alright," Kiran said as he passed out folders to the three other Apocalypse members, "This is who we believe is going to be showing up tonight, but what you really need to know is their crest. If they have that, then they're fair game."

"Damn, Kiran, this is really fucking detailed," Sierra commented as she looked through the various profiles, "Did you make these yourself?"

Rhamina raised a brow before looking over Kerstin's shoulder to see that the brunette was right, but what caught her eyes was a certain set of information that seemed way too hard to get unless one had followed the targets for a long time.

"Kiran, what exactly have you been up to in the past five years that I haven't seen you?" she asked as she looked up to the older male, "'Cause this seems like the kind of information a professional stalker would sell on the deep web."

Her last statement caused the other members that Kiran brought to bust out laughing as the said male nervously scratched the back of his neck.

"What's so funny?" the eighteen-year-old asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

"It's because you made a very specific, but accurate guess," the Korean chuckled, "I've been working as an information broker on the dark web up until I joined this group."

"Aight," the ravenette shrugged as she leaned back into her seat and pulled out her phone to continue reading.

"That's it?"

"I mean, what do you want me to say?" she asked, looking back at her friend, "I've been working in the red light district since I was, thirteen-ish? I have no room to judge you for that shit."

"You've been working in that kind of place since you were thirteen?" one of the other Asian men asked with a raised brow.

"Yep! Went from serving drinks to beating people up for money," the teen explained with a bright smile on her face.

"Fuck yeah, that's one hell of an upgrade!" another one of the men laughed as he reached over to give the girl a high five.

Cloud stayed to himself as the others conversed as he absorbed the information he had just received.

He knew that Rhamina had been working in the red light district since before she met him, but he just couldn't imagine a younger version of the female doing it; especially, not after seeing the child version of the eighteen-year-old.

However, he also knew that she had to have learned her terrifying skills from somewhere; her fighting, her knowledge on the human psychology, and everything else she knew had to have come from some kind of experience.

When they arrived at the casino, the musicians began unloading their instruments as they were greeted by one of the casino employees.

As they were being led inside, Cloud couldn't help but notice how excited the ravenette looked, small clicking noises coming from her every now and then.

"She has a thing for gambling," Sierra explained as they passed the poker tables, the older female's eyes immediately lighting up.

"Don't ever play a serious game with her," Kerstin warned as she leaned in closer to the male, "She's a fucking sadist when it comes to games like that."

Once the group had made it to where they were set to perform, Rhamina turned to her friends and said, "Y'all can go ahead and get started for now, but just be as discreet as you can."

Walking around the casino, Kerstin and Sierra couldn't help but feel a little intimidated and excited while Cloud stayed indifferent.

Many of the members of Apocalypse lived in the middle or lower class of society, so they had never even stepped foot in such an extravagant place like the casino in North City when the world was still functioning.

"Man, Mina was lucky," Kerstin muttered as they passed another restaurant filled with nicely dressed people, "She used to perform in places like this all the time."

Upon seeing Cloud's brows to raise in confusion, Sierra explained what the seventeen-year-old was referring to while they continued walking through the marble halls.

"Professional fan dancers were a very popular form of live entertainment for the rich, so a lot of the time, Mina would be pulled out of school to perform in places like this," the brunette said, "Still made her nervous every time though... Her parents held her to very high standards."

Meanwhile, the ravenette was helping the group set up their electronics and going over the set order and list for the night.

While she was feeling confident in her skills and magic, the teen couldn't help but let her anxiety linger for a bit as she could remember the judgmental stares of her family.

'Shut the fuck up, Mina, you're a boss ass bitch who's doing this for a mission,' she thought to herself as she drank from a water bottle provided to them by the casino staff, 'The opinions of your heavily Asian family don't matter right now. You're basically a gang leader for fuck's sack!'

Despite her individual pep talk, the anxiety refused to leave, but the teen chose to ignore it in favor of looking at their venue.

They were performing in one of the ballrooms that had a stage at the front with multiple tables to the side with an open dance floor in the center.

By the time that the performance was supposed to start, the tables were full and the ravenette could see her companions standing in the back unscathed, but at the closest table to the stage she could see multiple of their targets.

As soon as the drummer finished counting off the first song, Rhamina started spreading her magic over the audience.

The song was of course a sultry jazz song that worked the female's lower range as she swayed to the beat.

It was about a soul who just wanted to have one last passionate night with their lover and as a pure romantic, the ravenette sold it completely as she took the mic and began weaving through some of the tables before returning to the stage for the end of the song.

Through the cheers and applause, the teen watched as many of their targets began to leave their table, leaving an older man alone at the table to continue watching the show.

Locking eyes with Cloud, Rhamina subtly nodded towards the leaving group before the next song started up.

The male followed her gaze and nodded back before getting the other girls to follow them out into the main casino.

As the group finished their set, the man never left, keeping his eyes glued onto the eighteen-year-old who practically ignored it until the show was over.

The group was basically surrounded by others who were telling them what a good job they did in their performance when the man approached her.

"Excuse me, Miss, but I must say that you gave a spectacular performance," he said as the female turned to face him, "You convey emotion well."

"Thank you very much, Mister," the ravenette said as she placed a hand over her heart, "The commentary means a lot."

"There is no need for formalities, you can just call me Robin," the man chuckled as he held his hand out to shake.

"Nice to meet you then, Robin," the female chirped as she took his hand with a smile, "I am called Hasu!"

Upon hearing the teen's performance name, Kiran looked over his shoulder to see the ravenette conversing with one of their targets, holding a thumbs up behind her back.

After a few minutes of talking about some random topic, Robin asked, "Hasu, do you happen to gamble?"

"That would depend on what type of game is being played," she replied with a small smirk, "What did you have in mind?"

"Just a simple game of poker, though I hope instead of gambling with money, you'd be okay with gambling favors," the male suggested, causing the female's heart to race with excitement.

"Raising the stakes are we?" the teen asked, nails digging into her wrists which she held behind her back, "I'm fine with that. That's what makes the game fun."

"So what exactly do you want from me if you win?" the ravenette asked as a casino employee led them to a private poker table.

"Your company for the rest of the night," the male replied as they took their seats, the dealer already shuffling the cards, "And you?"

"The honest answer to a few questions," Rhamina replied as she waited for her cards to be dealt to them, keeping her hands busy by playing with the poker chips.

"That's all you want from me?" Robin asked as they placed their starting bet, "Surely there must be more."

"I can't really think of anything else that I want," the female chuckled with a shrug as she checked her cards.

The game ended in about twenty minutes when the eighteen-year-old had run out of chips and lost the final game.

"Well, it looks like the goddess of luck had blessed you today," the teen sighed as she looked over to see that he had created a royal flush.

"Indeed she had," the male chuckled as they both stood to shake hands, "but I must say that was the most fun I've had in a game of poker, so I must thank you for that."

"I have to say the same," she replied with a bright smile before rolling her left shoulder back, "shall we go, then?"

"Indeed," the older male chuckled as he led the female over to an elevator that led to the attached hotel.

'Those little shits are probably fighting someone right now,' Rhamina thought as the elevator doors opened once again.

It was silent as the male led her down the empty marble hall and she knew something was up, he had lost that playful persona of his.

'That's how we're going to play?' she thought as he opened the door of a darkened hotel room to let her in.

When the lights came on, the room began to fill with a white gas and the teenager had turned around to see Robin in a gas mask.

As her body dropped to the ground, one last thought entered her head.

'Alright then... Let's play...'

About fifteen minutes later, the three other members of Apocalypse had made it to the top floor of the casino to see a very wobbly Rhamina held by two grunts as the older man held a pistol.

"Man, y'all are pretty stupid you know?" she giggled through her slurred speech, almost falling over if it weren't for the two holding onto her.

"So you're the three rats that sought us out?" Robin asked as he stepped forward, causing them to draw their weapons.

"Now, now, now, let's not do anything that might endanger the young lady," the man spoke as he cocked his gun and aimed it at the very giggly girl.

"What the fuck did you do to her?!" Kerstin growled, none of them backing down as the ravenette finally noticed her friends.

"There you guys are!" cooed the eighteen-year-old as she took a few wobbly steps forward, "You wouldn't believe how stupid these guys are, they blabbed about everything we needed!"

Before the teen could continue, the barrel of the pistol was aimed at her face causing a crazed glint to enter her eyes.

"Aw, is my chatter annoying to you?" she asked as she stepped forward so the weapon was resting right up against her forehead.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me? I honestly don't think you're motivated enough," the teen challenged as the three looked over at her in concern.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Sierra muttered as she looked to Kerstin who looked just as confused as her partners.

"I think she's finally lost it," the darkette replied as the older teen kept egging on the older male.

"Just pull the fucking trigger!"

Bang!

The three looked up in shock to see the ravenette completely fine as she held the man's wrist above her head, the gun still smoking towards the ceiling.

"Shame," the teen sighed in her normal tone of voice before she used her other freed hand to take the fun from this shocked grasp and shoot him in the leg.

"Looks like you were too slow," she continued as the two grunts just stared at her as she tossed the rope that was binding her to the side.

"How the hell did you get out?!" one of them asked before she cocked the gun once more with a closed eye smile.

"Y'all suck at tying knots," she replied before crippling them both as well, going to meet her companions who still stared at her in shock.

"Let's go, I know where Yukitara is," the ravenette spoke, ushering them out into the hall before leading them up to the roof, "Kiran should have told Hana already."

"Rhamina, what did they do to you?" Cloud asked, placing a hand on the female's shoulder as she looked to the sky for something.

"They gassed me with something that made my head go fuzzy, but that bang sobered me right up," she quickly explained before spotting a helicopter.

"That's her," Rhamina said as a ladder was lowered, "Come on we've got to go get Yukitara!"

"We're getting him now?" Kerstin asked as Sierra started climbing up the ladder despite all the wind being generated.

"Yep, if we don't, then that gives them a chance to move him," the ravenette explained, "one of them already went to report this, so up you go."

Once Kerstin was up Rhamina turned to Cloud and gestured to the ladder bet he shook his head and said, "I'll go up after you."

"Cloud, I'm wearing a dress," the eighteen-year-old deadpanned and before he could apologize, the female ushered him up, following closely behind.

"Thank you for doing this, Rhamina," Hana spoke from next to the pilot as they flew off to where her father was being held.

"Don't thank us yet," the ravenette spoke as her sibling noticed that the fifteen-year-old only thanked her, "Now we have to do the hard part."

"Not necessarily," the doll spoke as she gripped onto her parasol, " Not if I plan to tear their base to the ground."

"As you wish," Rhamina mused as she leaned back into her seat between Cloud and Sierra, "It is your turn after all."

Rhamina took the time in their flight to close her eyes and just breath.

Admittedly, all she wanted to do was just crash because being drugged wasn't fun, but she had responsibilities.

Her seatmates noticed this as they were quite tired as well, but said nothing and just took the time to rest and check their gear before arriving at a run down building where multiple people were already fighting.

As the helicopter hovered over the building Hana stepped up to the open side and her form radiated magic as she called, "Tower!"

Following her rising hand, a stone tower rose from the center of the building, ending just ten feet below the vehicle.

"Y'all stay here and take a break," Rhamina ordered as the younger girl lept down to her creation, slowly standing up, "Hana and I'll take care of the rest."

The teen then leapt down to the tower before anyone could protest and it began its quick descent into the building.

"Of course the brat is only taking Mina," Kerstin huffed as she looked to the hole left in the base of the opposing gang, "She didn't plan on taking the rest of us did she?"

"What do you mean?" the blond asked as the helicopter merely circled the building, giving them a good view of the fighting.

"Don't tell me that you haven't noticed how attached Hana is to Mina," the darkette said as she looked over to her teammate, "They go way back, but it's kind of fucking annoying."

"Yeah, but she is a force to be reckoned with, especially since Mina is the one who taught her how to use her magic," Sierra countered as she held her hammer between her legs.

"What kind of magic does she use?" Cloud asked as he looked over to the two teenagers next to him.

"She uses tarot magic or basically, she calls upon the spirits of the arcane to help do her bidding," Kerstin explained as she took out her phone.

"Have you noticed that all the people she trains end up being powerhouses?" the brunette asked from her spot.

"Really? Who did she train?" the seventeen-year-old questioned.

"Jessie."

"For real?"

"Yeah," Sierra confirmed as some bullets flew past the helicopter, "That month she spent in L.A. she was training Jessie and now he can kill a fucking dragon on his own."

Upon reaching the room where Yukitara was held, the two girls noticed two things; the man was alive, but he was being held in some sort of crystal.

"Can you take care of it?" the doll asked as the taller female stepped up to the large prism her father was suspended in.

"Of course I can," the ravenette chirped as she brought her hand up to the smooth surface with her hair floating behind her, "This isn't the worst thing I've had to consume you know."

The soft chime of a bell echoed in the room as the crystal began to melt, turning into a black liquid that crawled its way up the arm that was touching it.

Once the crystal was fully gone, Hana stepped forward to wake her father as the eighteen-year-old looked to her arm.

It looked as though the limb had been dyed black from the tips of her fingers up to her elbow, but she merely shrugged.

'I've dealt with worse,' she thought as the man caught sight of her.

"I heard you were out of commission for quite some time, Yukitara," the teen mused, placing her hand on her hip.

"Of course you would come running at the first sign of trouble," the Japanese man chuckled as he placed a large hand on his daughter's head, "Thank you for taking care of my daughter while I was away."

"Now, now. Let's not get things mixed up, I didn't do shit," the ravenette spoke before checking the time, "But we should get y'all home, it's getting late."

As the three Asians ran through the base who's owners were getting utterly destroyed they made it back to the original entry point where Hana once again summoned her tower.

"Looks like they've been having from," Rhamina hissed as she watched a shadow bird try to dive at the helicopter only for it to get shot at by Kerstin.

Upon seeing the tower, the pilot immediately flew over to allow them to board, but before Rhamina got on she pulled out one of her fans and threw it at the monster, severing one of its wings.

"Mina, what happened?" Sierra asked as they noticed her stained limb.

"I took another curse, it should be fully digested in a few houses though," the teen shrugged with a yawn.

"A curse?" Cloud questioned as the teen rested her head on his shoulder, not bothering to move upon seeing how exhausted the girl was.

"Yeah, or any magical ailments really," she muttered lazily, "My soul can break them down and consume them, and it speeds up or slows down depending on how much of my magic is being used."

With the main objective of their mission completed, the helicopter dropped the four off at the hotel before taking the two Yukitaras back to their home.

After taking the rest of the night and most of the next day to take a well deserved break, the four members of Apocalypse, both Yukitaras, and Kiran were taken to a Korean barbecue restaurant that was rented out for them that evening.

The conversation was filled with information on the group known as Scyphozoa; however, the tense subject was eventually broken by Hana.

"Rhamina, didn't you lose a game of poker to the man known as Robin?" the noirette asked before taking a sip of her tea.

"Yeah, I did, why?" the ravenette replied with a raised brow before eating some of the bulgogi she had been looking forward to the whole trip.

"I believe that you said you would dance for us if you lost a game of poker during your stay here," the fifteen-year-old smirked, causing the older female to choke on her food.

"Yeah, you did say that!" Kerstin chirped as she looked to the ravenette who was currently downing her water.

"And what do you know? There's a stage over there," Sierra added, gesturing to the large platform used for live performances.

"You want me to do that now?" Rhamina uttered with wide eyes as the brunette pulled a bluetooth speaker out of her bag.

"Okay, fuck all of you," the eighteen-year-old snapped as she took the speaker and walked up to the stage.

"How exciting, I get to see how much she's improved," mused Kiran as the female hooked up the speaker to her phone and set it to the back of the stage so she could hear it better.

Everyone put their attention on the female as she set at the center of the stage, kneeling in a bow towards the audience with the fan laid out in front of her.

Even if the girl wasn't in costume; Kiran, Hana, and Yukitara could tell that this would be a Japanese styled dance from the way she was set.

A few bars into the music the girl then sat up on her legs before flourishing the closed fan, allowing her gaze to follow the fluid motion.

As she stood up and stepped down the stage she made eye contact with her audience, making sure to keep her movements fluid and delicate.

The teen worked well to keep her movements loose and flowy so that the fan moved like a lead floating in the breeze.

She had excellent control of the fan and its extravagant movements as it blended well into her overall performance.

Even knowing close to nothing of the art form, the members of Apocalypse had to admit that the dance was stunning.

They could see each and every breath of the female took as she kept the soft smile on her face throughout the performance.

When the music ended and the female stood in her ending pose, those sitting at her table gave her a round of applause.

The ravenette then let out a sigh as she went to collect and return Sierra's speaker before saying, "There. Done. I did the thing."

"That was a wonderful performance, Hasu," the older Yukitara chuckled as she returned to their seat next to Kiran, "you should dance more often."

"Thanks, Yukitara, but I really don't have the time for when I have to make sure my kids don't die," Rhamina replied as she turned her attention back to her food.

"You did really good, Hasu," Kiran said as he patted the girl on the back, "You've come a long way since we were kids, you've a lot less tense now."

As the two got into a conversation about her performances, Cloud narrowed his eyes over at the male until a shadow stood over him.

"If you are available, I would like to speak with you outside for a moment," Hana requested in her usual flat tone.

No one paid the pair any mind as the doll led the blond right outside the large windows that gave a view to the table in the middle of the room.

"What did you want?" Cloud asked in a blunt tone as she crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight.

The emotionless female then surprised the male by giving a full, ninety degree, bow as she said, "I would like to personally thank you for helping to save my father."

"I was just following orders," the male shrugged as the female straightened herself out to stand while holding her hands clasped together at her stomach.

"Though that may be true, you still did it, so I thank you nonetheless," the noiret spoke, quickly bowing her head once more.

"Whatever," he sighed as he looked back inside to see Rhamina happily talking to Kiran, lightly shoving him with a smile on her face.

Following his gaze the female inwardly smirked before saying, "Rhamina speaks very highly of you, you know?"

"Huh?"

"She always sees the positive aspects of others she takes care for," Hana explained before letting out a sigh, "I just wish she would do the same for herself."

"What do you mean?" the male asked as he looked back over at the fifteen-year-old, catching the glint of an unknown emotion before it disappeared once more.

"Tell me," she started, looking straight into his bright blue eyes, "in the time that you've known her, have you seen her actually give herself a genuine compliment?"

"And I do not mean those jokes she throws out to give herself an illusion of an inflated ego," the teen clarified as she stepped closer to the man.

Cloud remained silent as he thought back to his interactions with the ravenette and he actually couldn't remember a single instance in which she gave herself genuine praise.

Hana then looked to the older female before saying, "I wish to be able to lead like her someday. I never noticed it much when we were younger, but she had many faces."

"I'm sure you've seen some of them already and I'm sure you've noticed how she has the respect, and in most cases friendships, of everyone in Apocalypse," she continued, stirring memories in the male of Rhamina's many personas, "Even here, not everyone had respect for me or even my father. Do you know how she gained that respect?"

"Not really," the blond admitted, "I never thought about it."

"While many would take being a multiple faced demon as a negative, she has learned to control each one and learned when to wear each one," the noirette explained, "That is how she gained the respect from others. She can read the atmosphere so easily and adjusts herself in response to it."

"Whether she is trying to comfort someone, gain the upper hand, or to even instill fear... she just knows," the fifteen-year-old continued, "I want to be able to lead like her."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Cloud sighed, grateful for the new information on the teen, but still confused as to why she would be revealing it to him.

"So you can get some insight on her true personality," Hana replied as she looked up to the twenty-one-year-old with a small smirk gracing her porcelain features, "Am I wrong to assume that you have taken an interest in Rhamina as a person rather than just simply your employer and boss?"

"What are you getting at?" the male snapped as heat flushed through his usually hardened form.

"No one would be staring at her for that long if they had no interest in her," the female continued as the ravenette looked at the two from her side of the glass, "Though if you really want her attention, you're going to have to be blunt."

"She's always been dense when it came to herself," Hana said as Rhamina stood up from her seat and walked out.

"You two alright?" the eighteen-year-old asked as she walked over, holding her hands behind her back, "You've been out here for awhile."

"Yes, we're fine," the doll replied as she turned to her long time friend, "Cloud and I were just talking about some things."

Now that the two stood side by side, the male noticed the stark contrast between the two females; from their looks, their personalities, and just the way they held themselves.

Despite their many differences, he could also tell they held some similarities as well; they both held a sense of unbreakable loyalty, the drive to become better in all aspects that they could manage, and their care for one another.

Cloud didn't have to know either one of them personally to see that they meant so much to each other.

He was brought back to reality with the sound of light laughter coming from both females.

"What?" he asked, defensively narrowing his eyes at the two.

"It's just that you looked really cute staring off like that," Rhamina explained with a soft smile as Hana used her wrist to hide her smirk at the male's reaction.

"Look at that, Rhamina, you've gone and made your brilliant swordsman flush," the fifteen-year-old teased in response to the bright blush that spread across the ex-SOLDIER's face.

"Hana, hush!" the eighteen-year-old chuckled as she looked away from the male who merely scoffed and began walking past them, towards the door.

"Cloud, wait! I'm sorry!" the ravenette cried as she reached over and latched onto the male's arm, causing him to tense.

"Please don't be mad," she said with her cheek lightly touching his bicep as she wore a lopsided smile with her eyes just looking up at his face.

The male just shook his head and pat her head, earning a happy trill before she let go, allowing everyone to walk back inside.

After everyone finished their very large meal filled with; lots of fun, drinking (mostly Kerstin), and dirty jokes (again, Kerstin) that were not really appreciated by the older Yukitara and Rhamina, they four from the Abyss were driven back to the hotel to pack up their things so they could leave as soon as they woke up the next morning.

As soon as the elevator reached the penthouse everyone started to their rooms, but as the ravenette was walking the world completely blacked out for a moment.

Before she could hit the ground Cloud, who was walking next to her, caught the teen by the shoulders and helped her steady herself.

"Are you okay?" he asked in mild concern as the female brought a hand up to her head.

"Yeah," came her breathy reply as she gave him a small smile, "My head just did something weird, I'm fine though."

"Are you sure?" he asked, keeping a careful hand on her elbow even as she started walking again.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she chirped, placing a reassuring hand on top of his, "Just go and pack up, okay?"

Even though he didn't believe her words, the male released her, albeit reluctantly, before he retreated into his own room.

Once the ravenette was back in her room, she tried to brush off what just happened, but still couldn't shake off the looming dread she felt as she packed up her things.

Early the next morning, the four ate breakfast before meeting Hana and her father in the lobby to return the key cards to the penthouse.

"Thank you for letting us stay here," Rhamina said as she gave a bow to the father and daughter, "May your future endeavors be blessed."

"There is no need to thank us, Rhamina," the older male spoke with a chuckle, "You were doing your duty as a leader and an ally."

"Indeed," Hana agreed as the ravenette straightened her posture, "Without all of you, we would have been much less efficient."

"Well, see you guys when the occasion rises again and don't forget to get those deliveries over to us asap," Kerstin spoke before the four made their way over to their vehicles.

Once all of their things were loaded into the van, Sierra got in the driver's seat, Kerstin got into the passenger's seat, and Rhamina got into the second row of seats while Cloud started up his bike.

By the time the group returned to the Abyss the sun was higher in the sky, but it was still morning.

When Rhamina collected her things, they walked back into their building with Cloud since the other two had some other appointments to take care of before settling back in.

"So do you think you have a better feel of the San Diego area now?" the ravenette questioned as they ascended in the elevator.

"Yeah, it's not much bigger than Midgar," he explained before a comfortable silence overtook the pair.

When they exited the elevator on their floor, the two walked over to their doors before pausing to face each other.

"Thanks for coming with us, Cloud, I know I wasn't with you for much of the fighting, but you did good!" the female praised as she gave him a hug.

"Well, I better start unpacking," she sighed as she pulled away, "I've got work later today and it's a Friday, so I'm working late tonight."

~~~Fin. Chapter 8~~~

Masterlist

#Apocalypse #Chapter 8 #Final Fantasy #Final Fantasy VII #FFVII #FFVII Remake #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Cloud Strife #Cloud Strife x OC

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silvensei · 4 years

Text

In This Mad Machinery

A human and an android swap bodies, resulting in identity crises, existentialism, philosophy with the boys, and fun!

Detroit: Become Human | gen | 20k | rated T | introspective comedy/sci-fi

Chapter 2 (2.5k words) | [AO3 link] | < prev | next >

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A car passing by was what made him realize he was conscious again. He hadn’t detected anything initializing, and he wasn’t prompted with a status bar or an error report. Was there an issue?

His chest filled with air, and Connor’s eyes shot open.

And he immediately cringed—which only made him want to cringe more.

Too many thoughts bombarded his head from too many sources, like how he just breathed—he felt the air through his nose—his eyes focused too little too slowly—they felt dry, he had to blink, and the focus was all over—and his eyelids squished—everything squished, his face was too soft—and everything’s so slow in his head, with too much going on—and he just breathed again—having only one thought going at a time, having to keep them in line—and he’s human now—

Connor sat up—he was on the couch—and put a hand to his face. His skin depressed, his beard mostly dry yet still cool to the touch. It was soft—a different soft from his skin. “Would you look at that, Lieutenant,” he said, looking at the unique texture etched into his palm with nothing short of awe. This was how Hank sounded to himself, just a little off from what the rest of the world heard. “It worked!”

He felt relief come as a wave: relief that he can experience this, that he really was something outside of a machine. It was the most physical reaction he’d ever had, the rush of hormones relaxing his shoulders and tugging the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Or was it because of endorphins? …Or were endorphins hormones? Was that even right?

Either way, Connor looked over to the RK800 that had yet to respond, only to realize that it didn’t look active at all. Its head had fallen forward a bit, its eyes half-lidded. His relief shattered. He jumped to his feet—bad idea. He had expected balance adjustment to kick in as usual, but nope, not an android right now, and his arms flung out to manually find his center. Then splotches of color obfuscated his vision and made it that much more difficult. Connor felt something clench in his chest and chill his spine, thinking he had messed up already and broke something, but his vision cleared within seconds. Hopefully, it’s normal, he told himself. Probably blood pressure something or other.

Now making sure to balance better, he stepped around the table to kneel next to the android that may or may not house Hank Anderson. His knees crunched with the pressure, and his already-tired calves did not like the further abuse. Connor had the sinking suspicion his ‘trick Hank into exercising’ plan was going to leave him dealing with the brunt of the effects.

The RK800’s LED was yellow; instead of flickering or spinning, less than half of the ring was alit with a solid bold glow. It was acting as a progress bar, and the color indicated that whatever download or update was happening was progressing at a less-than-favorable rate. Whatever it was, Connor wouldn’t be able to check until it finished.

He heard a whimper to his left. He was kneeling close to Sumo’s bed, where the dog had lifted his head to watch him. He seemed tense. It was different than a whimper for attention, and his tail wasn’t moving.

“This must be strange for you, huh, boy?” he said with a smile. “It’s me, Connor. I wish I could explain it to you, but canine communication isn’t elaborate enough for that. We’re just going to have to wait for Hank to wake up.”

Sumo watched him for a few moments more, but soon his tail started its slow thumping against the ground. Connor moved closer, sitting this time instead of kneeling because fuck human knees—the pressure from the floor did not feel good—and patted his neck. And then he froze. He held Sumo’s head in his hands like he did before, flapping his ears along with the words, “How. Are. You. So. God. Damn. Soft.”

Sumo licked his arm.

Something in his chest swelled. He leaned forward and captured the dog in a hug, ruffling his fur out of elation, the widest grin on his face. “You’re such a good boy, you know that, Sumo? You’ve been keeping an eye on me and Hank like the best boy.”

When he let go, Sumo laid his head on his paws, lazily watching the RK800. Connor checked, too: The LED had progressed to just over half. Knowing it might be a bit, he lied down, a hand methodically petting Sumo’s neck.

His body immediately started to relax. Physically, increasing the area that a force such as gravity acted on reduced the pressure on any point—at least he could remember that fact—but the calm that followed was something foreign. It felt similar to the satisfaction of finding a rhythm in tapping his fingers, or when his coin tricks recalibrated his finer functions—was it from petting Sumo? That was a rhythm. But it was more than that. Something he couldn’t pinpoint.

“Human feelings are something, aren’t they, Sumo?” he found himself musing. “And it’s only been…a couple minutes. I feel things, too, as an android, but not nearly like this. Part of deviancy is developing emotional responses despite not having an endocrine system built into our physiology, but I never thought it would be this drastic of a difference. Like was that love you made me feel? That made me feel weightless and full of energy, as the movies say? That would never happen in an android, deviant or not.

“But don’t get me wrong, Sumo!” he clarified, pausing his pets to look him in the eye. The dog froze in expectation. “I loved you before as an android. But it felt like…like satisfaction, like that was the way it should be. Like everything returned positive and would work out in the end. Like the day’s tasks have been completed and cleared. Like being with a dog is the best use of your time. It was what I interpreted as ‘love.’ But this?” He took a deep breath, still feeling a bit of that elation. “It’s one thing to know how biology works, and another altogether to be there for it.”

Sumo’s fur was hypnotically soft. That fact stuck out in his mind as he wove his fingers into his fur. He’d never been this soft before. “This tactile response is incredibly acute. I had never imagined…. No wonder they had put so much effort into domesticating you. I could pet you all day.”

He almost did, occasionally saying whatever came to mind: The ceiling looked so much less textured now; Many of the human body’s functions ran involuntarily, yet he could barely feel a thing; What if something went wrong? For example, was his internal temperature correct? He’d never know.

A light crystalline tone rang out in the room. Connor pried himself away from Sumo to sit up, looking over as the RK800’s LED cycled in a full blue ring a couple times before returning to its normal active state.

The android blinked open his eyes with a somewhat groggy look. Without warning, he shied back with a shout, rubbing at his eyes. “The fuck is that?!” he yelled. He paused and put a hand to his neck, looking down at his sweatpants and oversized T-shirt. He turned to the couch, and then spun the other way before spotting Connor looking up at him with mild concern.

Connor noted the yellow LED. “Lieutenant…?”

“Jesus Christ.” Hank all but collapsed back into the chair, staring at Connor. “Shit. This is…. How long was I out?”

Connor opened his mouth to estimate, but Hank had already answered, “Fourteen minutes, eight seconds.” His hand shot back to his throat, eyes wide. “Why do I know that.”

“Internal clock.” Connor held his hands together in his lap, running one thumb over the back of the other. Hank’s skin is much rougher than his own. “It compared the time last online with—”

“No, why did I say that? I didn’t mean to say that.”

He thought for a moment. “How far is Chicago?”

“Two hundred seventy-three miles—fuck.” He rubbed his eyes again, eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t usually seem like a compulsive suck-up.”

“You’re just following your programming,” Connor theorized. “This matches the normal behavior of a search function. Try letting the information pass you by instead; don’t pay it any attention. What does ‘recalcitrant’ mean?”

“Having—” Hank shut his mouth, resting a finger on his lips to stop himself. It was such a look of effort for this simple task; Connor couldn’t help a small smirk. “Free will, thou art an elusive bitch,” muttered Hank.

“If you recall, Lieutenant, there was just a whole event about androids that developed free will only after long periods of incentive to deviate from their programming.”

“Oh, getting snarky now, eh?” Hank scoffed. “What have you been doing with my body while I’ve been knocked out anyway?”

“Petting Sumo.”

“Petting Sumo.” Looking past Connor to the Saint Bernard, Hank patted his legs. Sumo heaved himself up to answer the call. “Thousands of dollars and hours put into dropping an android into a human body, and he pets a dog. What leaps and bounds this brings to science.” He scratched Sumo’s head before gliding his hands over his back. After a beat, the slightest frown appeared. “You might have a point. This feels different.”

“I’ve realized.” Connor patted Sumo’s tail back and forth as it wagged within reach. “Human skin is either more sensitive or has higher nerve density than androids’. I’m hurt you’ve never told me how soft Sumo is before.”

“I thought you knew.”

“And understandably so.” The LED on Hank’s temple had returned to its normal blue, but Connor thought back to the progress bar from before. “Would you mind if I checked something, Lieutenant? You were unconscious for a good bit longer than I was.”

“Probably should, then.”

“Don’t fight against your programming for this, please. RK800, report system status.”

Hank’s back straightened. “All systems online. No malfunctions detected,” he droned with a flat expression.

“What is the most recent item in your download history?”

“Backwards compatibility VM version 3.0.8 on May 21, 2039 at 1:02 PM, certificate verified from publisher CyberLife.”

“Function?”

“It was detected as necessary for running older software on a newer system, as it provides a reference for change logs between software versions in order to handle expected discrepancies not normally accounted for on new hardware.”

Ah. What constituted as Hank’s ‘program’ didn’t have version information. It must be running as if it were an older iteration of the android software. “And it’s all working without anticipated error?”

“Correct.”

“End report.”

Hank blinked before quickly shaking his head. “And I understood what all that means now, too. Damn, Connor, this computer brain of yours is nuts.”

“Mm,” Connor nodded, “in all the ways yours is not.”

“Well, sorry I don’t have Google in my head.”

“That’s part of it.” A pressure began to irritate his lower back. It had been there for a few minutes, but now it made him uncomfortable—was it painful? He shifted his weight off of it to one side. “Having access to only my own memory is limiting. I’m also used to running analyses in parallel. Now I have to think one thought at a time. It’s rather slow.”

Hank crossed his arms. “So we might not be as cerebral as you. But that’s why we just gotta spend less time thinking about life and more time living it.”

“That’s very inspirational, Lieutenant.”

“You like that? Just came up with it on the fly. But—!” He stood up and held out a hand. “It’s true, so no sense just sitting in here.”

Taking the proffered hand, Connor pulled himself to his feet—with more difficulty than expected, he noted, even with the assistance. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Why not start with lunch?”

“But you don’t have to eat. And we only had breakfast an hour or—”

“Ah—!” Hank held up a finger to shush him. His hand dropped to Connor’s shoulder. “It’s an experience, Connor. Just go with it.”

He held his shoulder and looked at him, long enough that Connor felt like he was staring. It was a bit disorienting. He had met another RK800 before, but it wasn’t a pleasant occasion; he was more focused on continued survival at the time. Suddenly Hank turned and walked down the hall, muttering, “Fuckin’ insane. I’m going out of my mind. Literally.”

It must be incredibly odd for Hank, he realized, seeing himself. Humans were unique; twins were rare, and even then, they weren’t perfectly identical. Maybe Hank was having some sort of identity crisis. He couldn’t blame him.

Hank wasn’t gone a minute before returning, sweatpants replaced with jeans. “C’mon,” he quipped, snatching his wallet and keys from the coffee table before slipping on his sneakers by the door. Then he took them off to take Connor’s instead.

“Be good, Sumo,” Connor called before following suit.

It was a warm spring day. What passed for android skin was a claytronic carbon composite with a high specific heat. Humans were obviously different; he felt the sunlight begin to burn his skin as soon as he stepped outside. He couldn’t say he particularly enjoyed that. The warmth was pleasant. The burning, not so much. The shade inside the car was a welcome relief.

Hank keyed up the ignition. “I know the perfect place, and trust me, I know you’re gonna love it. I used to go with the department for lunch, a classic mom-n-pop joint with—” He was cut off by the sudden crash of drums, music hitting Connor’s ears like a battering ram. His hands shot up to block out the noise. Touch is one thing, but humans hearing better than androids? Not possible. Audio was simpler to detect, androids have that perfected—nothing else was louder, just the music—he could barely hear himself think—Hank was saying something with a frown—

Connor quickly turned down the music, barely able to notice the vocals enter at this new volume. “What?” he shouted.

“Did you turn down my music—before, I mean?” Hank repeated. “It was quieter than usual.”

“Quiet? Lieutenant, that was much louder than the maximum safe noise level of…I don’t know the value right now, but it’s lower than that!”

“Eighty-five decibels,” he said automatically, but before he realized his loose-lips, something on his UI caught his attention. “…You turn down your hearing when you’re in the car?”

Ohhh, right…. “I do because it’s too loud, a fact I now can back up with personal experience. Frankly, it’s a wonder your hearing isn’t more impaired.”

Hank looked at Connor, whose hands still hovered by his head. He snickered. Then he chuckled and did nothing but shake his head before turning the volume back up to a moderate level and backing out of the driveway.

[next >]

#Detroit Become Human #DBH #Connor RK800 #Hank Anderson #DBH fanfiction #body swap #I love exploring the meaning and mechanics of this trope #really get to the core of the self #literally

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