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akunokomadori · 6 months

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Elbert/Kate/Alfons

tags: nsfw; threesomes; double penetration word count: 2.8k

“Ahh, nghh…” Kate buried her face in Elbert’s neck, muffling her moans against his fair skin. It was well past dawn, the sun casting light through the blue curtains of his room. Normally, they would’ve already left the castle, but how was she meant to do anything else when she awoke next to him? That fine blond hair that never looked out of place now messed with sleep, his long lashes blinking slowly over well-rested eyes, and the sweet, minimalistic smile that graced his lips as he greeted her.

It was only meant to be a good morning kiss, light and sweet, and yet… Her nightgown was gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, perhaps alongside the shirt she’d nearly torn off him in her haste.

She straddled his lap, knees flush against his hips as she rode his cock, her fingers tangled in his hair as she took pleasure in messing it up further.

“Kate… look at me.”

As if she could ever say no. She tipped her face up, and then her heart was in her throat, her whole body shivering with the vision before her. A flush painted his face, from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears, pink and delicate. His lips were kiss-swollen and parted, his breathing heavy as he groaned her name like he owned it. “You’re so beautiful…”

That compliment could still make her laugh. He always said it so sincerely, as if offering a prayer, even though he was the one who caused crowds to gather with his mere presence. How many men and women literally tripped over their own feet for just a glimpse of him, and yet somehow she was the one lucky enough to drown under the weight of his obsessive love?

She crashed her lips against his, drinking in the heat of his tongue and moaning again when his fingers curled over her thighs. He pulled her down onto him as he thrust up, pushing himself further inside, trying to get himself deeper, always deeper, like it was never enough.

She was so close, thighs quivering as she ground against him, muttering soft pleas against his lips to fill her up and make her his, please, just a little more until—

The latch on the door clicked.

Kate snapped her head around to look. Elbert’s dark blue gaze cast in the same direction, both staring at the figure that’d just invited himself inside.

"My, my, you both are so very good at staying quiet, I had no idea I’d be interrupting. But I suppose I'd have to ask Roger to verify for me, if I were so inclined.”

The heat coursing through her body flared. She snatched up the bedsheet, bunching it against her bare chest because there was nothing in reach she could chuck at him. "You could've knocked!"

"I did, I assure you.” Alfons smirked, leaning back against the door after shutting it behind him. “Or so I seem to recall. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m mistaken. You two were very late for breakfast and I just wanted to make sure Elbie wasn't forgetting to feed himself yet again. But it seems that he's making more than a meal out of you, my dear."

"...Al." Elbert’s tone was a strained one. Not of malice or anger, but more of conflict. He shifted beneath her and Kate had to bite back a whimper, clenching her walls around his twitching cock.

“Yes, may I be of some assistance?” Alfons’s voice carried all of his usual amusement—with a touch of something more. “You know that I’m always happy to offer a hand, or anything else for that matter, should either of you need.”

No doubt if it were anyone else, Elbert would've covered her up already. And then gently laid her down while he went to gouge their eyes out. But even as Alfons stared at both of them, Elbert only tightened his grip on her thighs, his neatly trimmed nails digging in to leave marks on her skin. His oceanic eyes were dark, the depth in them unwavering.

She knew that look. That was the look he got when he wanted something.

From the day she'd met them, it was clear their relationship wasn't normal. And then came every interaction between them, every word exchanged, every gaze, every dangerous game and lingering touch… It wasn’t the relationship of a master and servant, nor one of close friends who’d known each other for years. She’d even wondered if, perhaps years ago, Alfons had insisted to Elbert that he wasn’t beautiful, simply to maintain their balance. Because without Alfons by his side, Elbert would have surely already met his ruin.

For a while, she'd thought the emotion it stirred inside her was jealousy. But that wasn't quite right. It wasn't a worry of being replaced, of being betrayed, of being cheated. It was a desire for something she didn’t have, for everything that existed between the two of them that she could never replace and would never want to.

It wasn’t jealousy; it was envy.

But envy was an emotion more easily alleviated.

She released the bedsheet and slid her hands up, cradling Elbert’s face to draw his attention back to her. She understood him better now, his wants, his needs, his curse and the darkness that came with it. Not perfectly, and certainly not as well as Alfons, but she was learning… through them both. "Can you be honest with me?"

"Always."

That response, a far cry from her first few weeks at the castle, made her heart flip.

Alfons was a walking temptation, a dangerous idea wrapped in an illusion. There was almost no doubt in her mind that he’d tempted Elbert before, even if she’d yet to gather the courage to ask exactly how far or how often. And then when it came to her, every time Alfons whispered in her ear or swept his fingertips across the nape of her neck, the heat that burned in her belly screamed to be sated. If it weren’t for Elbert, she would’ve already given in. But given that Alfons’s love of Elbert rivaled her own, he would never actually try to steal her away…

Which made for a simple solution.

"You don't want Al to leave, do you?"

“No…” Elbert spoke softly, as if admitting something he felt he shouldn’t. "...I'm greedy."

"I know."

"You're beautiful, Kate. The most beautiful thing in the world. But..."

She smiled, nodding. "So is he."

"Yes. And sometimes I think, if I had you both… maybe I could finally be satisfied."

That wasn’t true. He would never be satisfied, never fulfill the gaping wound left by his curse. But Alfons had never stopped him from trying and, if she wanted him to be happy, neither would she. “I don’t mind.”

From across the room, Alfons cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but am I not invited to this round of negotiations? Is anyone planning to ask me how I feel?”

Elbert frowned, his brows furrowing cutely, but Kate cast Alfons a smile over her shoulder, as sweet as she could manage. “You can always leave.”

“And what fun would that be?”

Alfons crossed the room with the practiced stride of a man who’d done so countless times, and yet when he reached the edge of the bed, he hesitated.

There was a line there, invisible yet blaring, that would shatter once crossed. Just like dropping a mirror.

But Elbert was never good at waiting for something he wanted. His fingers hooked into the hem of Alfons’s jacket sleeve, the pad of his thumb brushing against a polished cufflink. “Al…”

“Now, Elbie, we both know you’re not very good at sharing. So what on earth makes you think you can share between two?”

“Because I… I don’t mind sharing with you.”

The triumphant smirk painting Alfons’s handsome face faded for a brief moment, transforming into a soft fondness like that of a slow-blinking kitten, and then he joined them on the bed—a gloved hand taking hold of Kate’s chin and turning her face toward his.

She’d kissed him before, but not like this, not like—god. His mouth was different from Elbert’s, lips thinner and firmer, but then he sucked on her tongue as his fingers rolled over her breast and she melted all the same.

Between the three of them, they managed to strip Alfons off his jacket and shirt, his belt buckle clinking against the side of the bed as it fell. Kate hesitated only on his gloves, but then he pressed his mouth to her ear to purr, “Don’t worry, this is already all the fun we can handle,” and stripped those off too.

Elbert’s hands returned to her thighs, spreading her legs wider as he rocked up, sending spasms through her. A moment later and Alfons’s chest pressed against her back, one of his arms snaking around her waist while his other hand slipped down to find the wetness between her legs, fingertips circling her clit.

Kate quieted a whimper, throwing her head back against his shoulder. A memory flashed through her mind, of a room and a bed back at the palace, where Alfons had first teased this ill-advised proposal only for her to hastily dismiss it in a fluster. Saying no then had been the right thing to do, mid-mission with her still wearing the queen’s borrowed clothing, but now…?

His fingers slipped lower, reaching where Elbert’s cock sheathed inside her and stroking against them both. Elbert shuddered under her, his long lashes fluttering as the pretty pink blush coloring his fair skin turned a shade darker. “Kate, I want… kiss me.”

Her eyes flickered momentarily back to Alfons before she leaned her body forward, her chest flush with Elbert’s as she settled her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. It was sweet and unrushed, a maddening contrast to the way he then snapped his hips to plunge deep inside her. She moaned on his tongue and rocked back, startling slightly when she felt a sensation like hard velvet brushing against her lower back.

Elbert’s hands slid from her thighs to her rear, squeezing her buttocks before spreading them. “Al, come. Join me… Please, she’s greedy here too…” She gasped when he slipped two fingers inside alongside himself, stretching her further.

“Can the dear little robin handle that much? Normally, you treat her like she’s so fragile.”

The half-sweet, half-mocking of Alfons’s unfairly low voice had her wanting to beg him and slap him at the same time. But then that wicked mouth touched the center of her spine, raining kisses up each vertebrae until he bit a mark into the nape of her neck and pushed the head of his cock inside her while having the gall to mutter, “Pardon my intrusion.”

It was slow, thankfully, or else she might just break between them. Elbert’s nails dug crescents into her skin, keeping her grounded as Alfons sank himself deeper, bit by bit. She moaned, trembling, her eyes shut as ripples of pleasure raced through her. So full, so much fuller than when Elbert fucked her roughly and pushed his fingers inside her alongside his cock, as if he could satisfy his own ravenous desire through her.

Then, Alfons wrapped his arms around her waist, touching a kiss to the curve of her neck as a soft groan escaped him. “No wonder he’s absolutely obsessed with you.”

She wasn’t any better. If she were, maybe she would’ve had enough sense to object to this, but instead she was dripping wet and unable to stop the moans from spilling out when they both moved inside her. Alfons set the pace for them all and she could feel him smiling each time he kissed her neck and the backs of her shoulders, his slick-soaked fingers rubbing at her clit as if everything else wasn’t already more than enough.

She clung to Elbert, her breaths heavy against his skin, all of her words senseless but pleading. And Elbert, her darling, her beloved—normally so quiet—was panting and groaning along with her. Each push of Alfons’s cock sent her alight and clearly did the same for Elbert, with the way that he arched and tried to seek out more of them both. Greed had never looked more beautiful.

“Al…”

Elbert reached a hand out for Alfons and Kate saw him take it, pressing his lips to Elbert’s fingertips and then his palm, like a proper servant in reverence of his master. It was so foreign, so out-of-place, and yet so fitting. Like Alfons had finally found something he’d wanted. Kate bit the insides of her cheeks, forcing herself to hold back a laugh. That was certainly something she’d never be able to forget, but she could humor him with that assertion later.

Instead, she pressed her lips first to Elbert’s, then twisted to kiss Alfons. And when she pulled back, barely breathing, she saw a deep heat swimming in Elbert’s gaze.

Oh…

Sometimes, the ferocity with which he wanted things was frightening. Like the first time she’d seen him stride across a room, not caring for the agony his footsteps left in his determined wake, simply to acquire something he’d later carelessly discard. This was… different. This was more. This was how he’d looked at her when he’d gripped her hands and asked how it was he could make her his.

But this time, his gaze wasn’t trained on her.

“Al, I want…” He didn’t need to say anymore than that.

Kate shifted as Alfons leaned in over her shoulder, his lips quirked at the corners.

“Oh? Then show me.”

Alfons drew nearer to his charge, hovering but a breath away. And Elbert, as he always did, claimed what he wanted. He caught Alfons’s mouth with his own, the kiss demanding, hungry—and gorgeous. She saw the slip of pink tongues and the pull of teeth, and shuddered, biting down onto her lower lip as she came, clenching around both their cocks.

“My, my, is that what you’re into?”

“Don’t,” she gasped, the warning in her tone less effective as her entire body trembled with the pleasure ripping through her, her skin burning red.

“Why not, if we all enjoy it?” Alfons’s teeth scraped against her ear, his exhales hot and not nearly as even as he likely wanted them to seem. “Will you kiss our dear Elbie for me? Please?”

She did, crying out against his mouth when Alfons thrust with purpose into her over-stimulated body. Elbert took hold of her waist, guiding her movements back on them both, and her moans built, needy and unrestrained, no longer trying nor caring to keep them quiet. The second wave washed over her in minutes and she slumped, no longer sure which name to call out. She heard Alfons swear, pulling out to paint her back while Elbert came in thick spurts across her stomach.

What a blissful mess…

Her nerves buzzed as she sought a kiss from Elbert’s lips, bubbling when he smiled into it and pulled her closer, wrapping her in his embrace.

Alfons, however, slipped off the bed away from them. They both watched him vanish into the adjoining bathroom, returning only moments later with a soft, damp, warm cloth to clean their skin of the mess left behind. Then, barely a minute later, he was redressed and presenting the form of a proper attendant, with not a raven-colored lock out of place.

Kate blinked at him, not out of surprise, but curiosity. “I don’t think either of us would mind if you stayed.” It would take some time and some struggle figuring out, surely, but everything about life in the castle came with complications. And they hadn’t given up yet.

“Surely, Earl Greetia and his dear robin will be famished. And the food prepared earlier will be cold. I trust the two of you can put yourselves together without getting too off track? Or should I send up one of the maids to ensure no further shenanigans?”

Elbert said nothing, his arms winding tighter around Kate’s waist, like he was making up for the loss of one companion by clinging to the other. He and Alfons were day and night, light and dark, but somehow she could figure out how to be the horizon to bridge them together.

She laced the fingers of her hands through Elbert’s and offered a smile to the man standing over them both. “Breakfast sounds wonderful. And you’ll join us?”

“Of course. For as long as you’d have me, my dears.”

#ikevil #ikemen villains #ikevil elbert #ikevil alfons #ikevil kate #ikeseries #ikevil smut #alfons sylvatica #elbert greetia #ikevil fanfic

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jujitto · 7 months

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𝟥 : 𝟦𝟧 𝖯𝖬 💭 沈泉锐

𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗇 ׂ ۪ 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ genre ۪ ׂ ۪angst & 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ cw ۪ ׂ ۪mentions of death of a family member ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ wc ۪ ׂ ۪𝟩𝟨𝟫 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ rq 𝟦 ۪ ׂ ۪ @hannahhbahng

9:34 PM, how long have you been sitting here? You couldn’t help but wonder. The tears streamed down your face, not stopping anytime soon. As much as you wanted to stop crying, you couldn’t. It was pointless. Sitting there lost in thoughts, you couldn’t help but ponder the amount of time that had passed.

How long had you been sitting here alone staring at the photos, the one thing you had left, the one thing you had left of them? You didn’t even get to say goodbye. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw them. Some part of you still didn’t believe that they were gone, that this was all real. The weight of their absence pressed heavily on your heart, making it ache with every beat. Memories flooded your mind, each one like a bittersweet melody playing in the depths of your soul.

The room around you seemed to blur as your gaze remained fixed on those photographs, capturing moments frozen in time. The smiles, the laughter, the shared experiences – they all felt like distant echoes now. Your fingers brushed over the edges of the images, tracing the contours of their faces as if trying to etch their presence back into reality.

“Y/N?” As the soft voice called your name, you looked up to find Ricky standing at the doorway, concern etched on his face. How could you forget? He was probably searching high and low for you all over the apartment. Your poor boyfriend.

Ricky's eyes met yours, and he took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and worry. "Hey," he said gently, his voice a soothing melody that reached the depths of your turmoil. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?"

You tried to offer him a faint smile, but your lips quivered, betraying the façade you were trying to maintain. Ricky walked over and knelt down beside you, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He reached out and wiped away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I-I wish you could’ve met them.” Your words echoed through the quiet room as Ricky smiled, sadly, and yet glad to hear those words from you.

“I wish I could've too.” He says as you look down at the photo in your hand. Wanting to give everything to have them back with you, here with you. Your hand clutched tight to his shirt as he held you close. He held onto you, his embrace a shelter from the pain that was ripping apart your heart. You leaned into him, the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body comfort that made the ache seem just a little more bearable.

In a world that seemed to be spinning out of control, his arms were the one constant that kept you grounded. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a reassuring presence that brought a sense of stability to your fractured world.

You weren't sure how long you stayed there, but the ache in your chest gradually faded as the minutes passed by. Ricky remained by your side, his presence a source of strength and solace. It was something you couldn't take for granted.

He didn't say much, but then again, he didn't have to. His mere presence was enough to remind you that you weren't alone. That no matter how much it hurt, there were people who cared for you, who would be there for you. That was Ricky for you, your pillar of support, a source of hope in your darkest hour.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ricky pulled away, gently cupping your face in his hands. He gazed at you, his expression filled with so much love and concern, that it brought a lump to your throat.

"It's getting late, we should probably get some rest," he murmured. You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stood up. Ricky wrapped his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. As the two of you left the room, the empty apartment greeted you like a silent tomb, the walls echoing the emptiness that now filled your life.

Ricky stopped and turned towards you, his gaze filled with understanding. "Don't worry," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "We'll get through this. Together."

You nodded, the ache in your chest easing at his words. It may not be the end, but the pain is only temporary. The memory of them will live on forever. You knew that, and deep down, you knew it would be okay, especially with Ricky by your side.

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tennybird · 4 months

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I have opinions about TotK. This is your spoiler warning if you haven't played/finished it yet. Also all of this is, once again, just my opinion on it and not a decisive fact! I will probably misremember things!

Anyway.

Okay so basically as someone who got it on release and beat it within a week, I'm a little underwhelmed by the game now that I'm looking back over half a year later.

It's not a terrible game! I'll say that first and foremost. But after waiting so long for it, and trying so hard to not hype myself up for it (failing horribly at that), it feels just a bit... same-y. The story is nice, and it's different. The boss fights and abilities you gain during your travels are nice. Everything else, though...

I like the map having stayed similar, with enough changes that I have to relearn some areas. The Depths are really fucking cool, and figuring out on my own that they're a negative of the overworld was incredible! But the sky islands were a little disappointing, I think. When we were told we'd be in the sky a lot, I thought there'd be more large islands like the tutorial one that you could walk around on. More references to Skyward Sword, too. It feels to me that they put more love into the Depths than the sky, in a way.

I like the main story. Figuring out Zelda was the Light Dragon (but not really believing it until the final Tears), and that she'd essentially spent thousands and thousands of years trapped inside herself, was AWESOME. Every cutscene involving her as the Light Dragon hit me hard, and I felt genuine sorrow everytime I saw her floating around the sky.

...That being said, I DO wish we could have a game where you get to actually travel with her. I WANT her to tell me about the minor lore of the world! I want to know about the various flora and fauna, and I want her to talk about Hyrule's history! Zelda is part of the royal family, and I'd imagine that part of her studies pre-BotW she'd have to learn about the history of her family (especially because of the importance of the Goddess' blood...). With how pre-BotW went between her and her powers, and her and her father, I'd imagine she'd make it a point to learn more about their history that ISN'T just the prophecy.

I, personally, did not like most of the temple boss fights. I can't really explain much of why- except for Queen Gibdo. I HATED Queen Gibdo because of all the smaller Gibdo chasing you, trying to chase down Riju for her power... It was a lot of things stacked on each other, and simply not my thing. Colgera was an absolute favorite however! The boss theme is AWESOME, the mechanics of being in the air and having to watch for projectiles, as well as crashing through the ice sheets to take it down? VERY, VERY FUN. Climbing through the sky just to get to the temple itself was one of my favorite experiences. Going up and up and up, and finally reaching the top where you break out above the storm clouds and see clear skies...

A thing that bothers me about the temples is that the cutscene at the end, where the ancient Sages gifts their powers to the new ones... I feel like they could've spent a little more time making them different, even if that meant more time in development. I would be okay with that! I think games should be in development longer in order to produce a good, finished product! Anyway.

The fight with Ganondorf was fun for me. I get SUPER immersed in it, so it was a fearful moment when I thought I'd beaten him, only to see his health bar fill again... and then go offscreen. And the DEMON DRAGON FIGHT? Holy SHIT.

I just wish there was more... substance to the game, I guess? It feels weird saying that. There are more things to do, but it's missing something I can't name. Something BotW had, but is now gone. I like TotK, like I said. It's clearly had love put into it, and I'm glad the developers spent more time on getting it as close to the perfect image they wanted as they could. Maybe it's just cause I've spent more time with BotW (over 300 hours), but I think I'm a little biased towards it. Maybe I'm just getting older and grumpier about vidya games, too. Who knows!

If you read all this, cool! I will reiterate that this is simply my view on it! If your view is different, good!! I'm happy to know there are people out there who enjoy it more than I did. Or if you hate it more than I do, maybe you have other things you want to point out about it that I missed.

#james speaks #long post #loz #totk #the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #i love reading people's opinions so please tell them to me if you want somewhere to ramble!!#zelda #totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom spoilers

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occulthours · 4 months

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out of curiosity, are you a hosie or a hizzie? you're pretty loud about your dislike for handon, but i rarely see you post either hosie or hizzie.

Honestly, I had to think hard to answer this because I really did enjoy aspects of both ships. Short answer, I like both but don't love either. If I had to choose I would likely say Hizzie.

With Hosie I feel like they lacked a lot of the depth despite them being the most popular ship in the show. Ironically enough, they followed in KC's footsteps in that sense. They never really had enough build-up for them to start a relationship at any point in the show and it didn't help that the writers seemingly put a ban on them in s3. After being called out for queerbaiting the audience they just decided to completely cut Hope and Josie off from each other, even in situations that would've called for them to interact (s2 literally ended with them having an episode heavily centric on their dynamic, yet there was no follow up in s3?).

Their dynamic for the most part bored me, even as someone who enjoys the friends-to-lovers trope. Often times their scenes felt a bit empty, which definitely could’ve been intentional on the writers part to dissuade people from shipping them to be fair! They just didn’t get enough content for me to fully jump on board. I do think that out of Hope's popular ships, they had the best chemistry. They felt very natural in the scenes they shared and could've been great in canon. Had DRR and Kaylee been given the chance, Hosie would’ve been one of the few canon Legacies ships that had real romantic chemistry.

Hope and Lizzie’s relationship very clearly the star of the show. The best elements of the show were jumpstarted by their relationship (their rivals-to-friends era in s1, their hilarious scenes in s2 and 3, and their tribrid/heretic, sirebond, and enemies era in s4). The writers put more effort into Hizzie than any other aspect of the show, including Hope and Lizzie's canon relationships with their boring boyfriends. Typically, Hizzie is the thing the Legacies writers are praised for the most, and the praise is deserved.

Based on the writing alone Hizzie would've gone down as one of my favorite TVDU ships, maybe even one of my favorite ships period. But I don’t think DRR and Jenny have much romantic chemistry. Very close friends and platonic soulmates, yes. Girlfriends... I'd have to actually see it to believe it. They had the potential to start something, especially in season 4, but I’m not sure how it would feel to actually watch them have romantic scene.

It’s hard to say which I'd rather have been canon because of this. I can't see how Hope and Josie’s relationship being entertaining to watch (assuming that I can't go back and rewrite their relationship) and unless DRR and Jenny were specifically toning down whatever romantic chemistry they may have, I can't see myself rooting for them to kiss on screen. If I absolutely had to choose? Before s4 I would’ve said Hizzie by a long shot, but s4 gave Hosie an edge (I love ships where one or both of them are obsessively down bad and s4 Josie fit that to a T. Josie caring more about the girl that beat her father nearly to death, threatened to kill her mother, and actually killed her sister? EAT EAT EAT!), but also the sirebond gave Hizzie a bit of an edge (how could you not get even a little buzz from “I hate you for making me love you”?)… Hizzie was the first Legacies ship I fell for so I feel like I’m always gonna be a bit bias towards them.

I’d choose either one of these ships over the train wreck that was Hope and Landon in a heartbeat though! Both had potential to be excellent in their own ways if H.ndon wasn’t shoved down our throats.

#hope mikaelson #hosie for ts #hizzie for ts #legacies #not an anti post for either ships. just my thoughts. both ships had a lot of potential despite my complaints lol.#anti handon

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wh0refornikolailantsov · 11 months

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Prompt: “i think the world of you.”

For Tolya x Reader please!!

For you, of course.

Miss Me? - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Not Beta/Proof Read.

"If you are sulking, please stop," Tamar says taking a seat.

"I am not sulking," you say defensively. Tamar gives you a withered look.

"You've not been half as chatty since he left," Tamar says.

"Maybe you're just not as much fun as he is," you jab. Tamar laughs at you, the laugh pulling itself from the depth of her.

"We both know that's not true," she says. You shrug. "It's okay to miss him."

"I know," you say, "I have no qualms about missing him. I have issues with him being gone."

"He misses you too," Tamar says, "if it helps."

It does, in a small way, makes you feel more reasonable in this dwelling sadness that comes from him being so far away for so long.

Tamar takes your silence as doubt. "No one knows Tolya like I do," Tamar says, "and my brother, he misses you."

"And you know that," you hadn't felt the need to challenge her before, and you dont really now, but part of you just wants to hear her be sure of it.

"I know that because he misses you when you're here," Tamar's laugh is gentle now, like she's trying to calm you.

"He does not," you throw her a look.

"Yes he does," Tamar says. "I bet those crows are sick of hearing about you."

"Enough," you say, shaking off her exaggeration.

"If he talks about you half as much as he thinks about you, then I will bet most of Ketterdam knows who you are by now," Tamar says, leaning back in her chair.

"He does not think of me," you say, rolling your eyes.

“I think the world of you.”

You look up and see Tolya in the doorway. He smiles at you and you rush to your feet. Pausing just shy of throwing your arms around him. "When did you get back?" You ask.

"Just now," he pulls you into a hug.

"I missed you," you say hugging him back.

"I always miss you," Tolya replies letting his chin rest on the top of your head.

"I didn't expect you back so soon," Tamar says grinning at her brother.

"The job Nikolai sent us on wasn't difficult," Tolya says.

"Don't let the King hear you say that," you joke.

"You could've enjoyed the scenery," Tamar says.

"I wanted to get back," Tolya admits.

"I wouldve enjoyed the scenery," Tamar says, and Tolya throws his sister a small bag.

"But I did bring you something back," Tolyas smile seems to give away the suprise.

She catches the bag and decides to thank him with her silence. "I do, you know," Tolya says, pulling back from the hug.

"Do what?" You ask.

"Think the world of you," he says.

"Oh," barely a whisper, and then louder and with confidence, "I think the world of you."

"Well you too are... delightful," Tamar says, "but I have to be... anywhere else."

#shadow and bone #tolya x reader #tolya yul bataar #tolya #grishaverse #tolya and tamar #fluff #six of crows #tolya my darling i adore you #tolya yul bataar fluff

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fastcardotmp3 · 2 months

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forever thinking about the narrative we could've gotten if Kali had stuck around long-term and thinking about it specifically in conversation with the character arc of Abby in TLOU2, because like.

obviously the source materials are tonally different enough to not make it a clear-cut comparison, but there's something about the cycle of violence there and the desperation that comes with a years-long search for justice or revenge or closure, right?

these young women who were so deeply wronged by people more powerful than them, and so then run away and seek their own strength, seek out ways to use it. Abby gets this amazing storyline where we first see her exclusively from Ellie's perspective as the villain who killed this person she loved more than anyone, but who then becomes a person and who is given reasons and who is given a fullness of self that makes not just her more of a gut-punch to the world, but everyone around her too.

and I just keep thinking about what that sort of care could have done for a character like Kali who is so similarly caught in a cycle of violence in her search for closure, so similarly set in her pursuit of it, and what it might have been like to see her instead of seeing El's witnessing of her.

where are her hurts? what scars does she carry? whose death does she believe will be the one to make her feel okay again and when will she realize that none of them will?

Abby changes through relationships with people, through a relationship with a young boy who comes from such a different background to her but who has been hurt and who has lost in so many similar ways and Kali has that too.

Kali has El to show her a different perspective, to give her something worth loving again, to give her something to protect rather than something to fight.

I dunno where I'm going with this, I've had Kali on the mind lately and I'll always live on the Abby defense squad, but I really do mourn the direction the story could have gone if Kali had been offered the same level of personhood and depth by the narrative that Abby was.

#dot post #maybe i'll write it for her one of these days she's been really prodding at my brain worms lately #kali prasad #stranger things meta #cursed to always be the defender of characters fandom hates I SUPPOSE #it's been a minute since i did a ramble but i'm simply thinkin out loud tonight

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eliza-makepeace · 4 months

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murtagh book thoughts

okay, it's been a while since i finished the murtagh book, and i've managed to figure out in coherent thoughts what it made me feel. it's coherent thoughts but it's not a coherent exposition, so you're warned.

in terms of the story, how its divided and all of that -- i liked the first half of the book very much. very enjoyable, murtagh's dealing with his past and his issues, trying to find where the stone comes from, we see his and thorn's bond... fun stuff. some parts are heartwrenching, but in general, it's interesting and enjoyable. still, it feels a bit like a videogame, where you have to get to point a, to point b, to point c in order to get your objective. and as much as i appreciate the new depths of worldbuilding paolini takes us into in "murtagh", i still feel like it's not "proper" worldbuilding.

by that i mean it feels like one of those old western movies where you know the characters can't walk too far away because what you think is a long field is actually a painted wall. the concepts are there: lyreth, the girl who fancied him at court... but you try to look a bit further into them and they're hollow.

the second half of the book, when they meet bachel and chaos ensues... not really my cup of tea. and it's not because i don't like storylines like that, where there's an interesting and fucked-up female character, cults and so forth. that's actually a pretty interesting idea, if only it had been properly executed. personally, my biggest issue with it is that murtagh already had gone through this. he'd already gone through having his agency taken from him, having to do horrible deeds because he can't help it, feeling hopeless and used... and i'm not complaining about this decision because murtagh is my poor little meow meow (although he is). i'm complaining because i feel like it reduces his experiences with galbatorix to nothing. back in inheritance, him being galby's name slave was the worst thing that could and had happened to him. now? bachel's worse. but it's the same principle. and i still think galby had more reason to be worse mentally and in terms of identity, for murtagh, than bachel was.

it also erases all of the healing and character development he'd gone through in the first half of the book. you could argue "oh, now that he's experienced freedom he can deal with bachel better than he could with galby" but i don't really agree and i don't really care. what's the point in destroying him in the ic, putting him relatively back together in the first half, and then obliterating him again (and worse, apparently) in the latter half. and then he's sad, and tired and devastated, but less so than in inheritance (which doesn't make sense if bachel was worse for him than galby), when he sees nasuada again.

the irony that murtagh's bond with alín feels more organic and natural than his with nasuada.... not in terms of characters being alike, just in the way it's written. paolini could've bothered with showing scenes of m and n at farthen dur, bonding, "courting" as he put it, so that the rest of their relationship actually has a strong base for the rest of the ic (giving a proper explanation which originally isn't there because the ic is in eragon's pov and not murtagh's), and so that their reunion is far more meaningful because it shows nasuada and him knew each other, actually bonded with each other before murtagh was kidnapped in eldest, to the point of developing romantic feelings for each other. if paolini hadn't put murtagh in random side quests throughout the book, he could've shown this and it would've worked better imo.

personally i think we didn't get enough tornac, or selena. i think murtagh should've pondered more about what it meant that eragon was brom's kid. what it meant about selena, how that changed murtagh's perception of her as a person. i'm a bit tired she gets reduced to just being his and eragon's mom, and it seems like that's the only way paolini wants them to see her too. murtagh seeing his mom like an individual, a person with her lights and shadows, with her depth, might have been an interesting thing and a new way to see himself as her son. every time paolini is about to reach something interesting with his characters, he changes course and i think that's a shame.

#i haven't finished with this yet btw #i'm posting it bc i have nothing else to add rn but i will come back to this #murtagh book #murtagh spoilers #christopher paolini

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jazzpostsstuff · 8 months

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Chapter: AXL Development Documents, Initial Story Concept PART 3

If you happen to wonder why this project has some psychological or just some heavy themes that haven't been explored by the series prior, it's because the creation of this fanfiction happened to coincide with some bad and traumatic stuff I've experienced a mere month after I decided to make Chapter: AXL into a real thing. Usually when you feel like something is getting really good, there would be a moment you will just spiral down to the depths. Both your existence and mental state fall so deep you would look back at who you were before and not recognise that person anymore.

Going through a sudden loss of a loved one while you're still a child (or rather a teenager in my case but I can say I had a mind of a child at that time) is always devastating, and going through that together with your family can be even more soul-crushing because you see their pain and suffer even more from inability to influence your other family members, feeling weak and even going insane from that sometimes. Knowing that the last time I was optimistic was when I wasn't accepting the death of a family member and was trying everything to make them open their eyes and speak again has been making myself sad everytime I looked back at who I was just one and a half years ago. I am even tearing up while writing this right now, so I am clearly not helping myself here.

You can never truly recover from something like this. You can only overcome, let go and enter a new chapter fo your life as a new person. You would look back at the past, at the good moments you had so long ago, maybe you'll smile, maybe you'll get sad again, but just try looking at the bright side. Those happy memories were something that happened to you. The people you see in them might be gone, but it would've made them sad if you just gave up after the loss. You was strong enough to get back up and learn how to live again, despite everything you went through. And if you're still there, at the bottom, it can motivate you to get better for them and maybe regain the optimism or happiness that was lost.

If you fear death after an experience like this... I know how hard it isfor some because I've been there, but just try to accept your mortality. Knowing that you can't stay alive for all eternity would make you cherish the time you have on this Earth more and live a life to the fullest (within reason). Eternal life would just make you less human eventually (which was also something that happened to X prior to Zero series as well so here's an example of how living forever can suck).

"Why is it in a Megaman fanfic?". Well, I always related to Axl and I managed to bond even more with him after what I went through (the loss of a family member at a relatively young age, to be exact). Besides, Axl's story was supposed to be grimmer and deeper according to one of the producers of X7. I felt like taking a psychological approach to the story of Chapter: AXL and exploring the trauma that you get after experiencing horrific events only made sense. However, I am still not going into that topic too deep because I am still writing a Megaman story, but maybe you can argue that I still can do that because it's based off MMZ, but we have to remember that it's a story about war and hope - a hope for a better peaceful future that comes after the worst, like the light in the darkest depths you could've fell into.

You have to retain this hopefulness, give a breathing room after a disaster and not bombard the player reader with depression all the way through.

#fanproject #megamanzero #mmz #megaman #megamanfanproject #rockman #rockmanzero #ChAZ #Chapter: AXL #feelings #deep thoughts #hopefulness #dealing with loss #dealing with grief #overcoming

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practically-an-x-man · 7 months

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Sunshine (Kyle x Jasper)

Summary: a few gentle moments lead to Kyle regaining what he'd lost.

Tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of necromancy

Word Count: 2.4k

____

He lost his sunshine when he came back. After all, how could he find that warmth within himself after everything he'd been through? After seeing the depths of Hell with his own two eyes? After being plucked from that, stitched back together, scarred over, the way he had?

Jasper always called it his sunshine - golden light, warmth, comfort, endlessly radiating. And he knew it comforted them, he knew it made those bad days a little better, but somewhere in the cold and the dark he'd lost it. Possibly for good.

It wasn't so much an overcast day as it was total nuclear fallout. The smog was impenetrable.

Or so he thought.

The first flicker returned quickly enough.

He was in bed. It had only been weeks - two or three, though time was difficult for him then - since he'd been thrown back into his life like a fastball to a baseball glove. He hadn't quite found speech yet. Coordination came and went. He could've sworn he could still smell the sulfurous fires of Hell lingering on his skin.

And Jasper, somehow, still laid beside him. They'd been asleep for hours now, as if nothing had ever changed. Kyle couldn't even bring himself to close his eyes. He couldn't surrender to the nightmares, not now.

He wondered how they could lay beside him, to stay so close when he could still smell the acrid scent of rubbing alcohol and formaldehyde all around him, the smoky perfume of purgatory clouding his lungs with every breath. Maybe it was a memory. Maybe it was all in his head. But he couldn't seem to wash the smell away.

He wasn't warm like he used to be. He still felt half-dead, perpetually cold no matter what he tried. That was the first time he realized he'd lost his sunshine. That was the first time he realized how much it once had warmed him.

Jasper didn't seem to notice. They lay just beside him, pressed to his side as they always had before, as if they didn't notice the way his chest was too slim and his hands were too broad and the heart that beat in his chest wasn't his own. As if they didn't notice the hellfire-stink on his skin, the necrosis-chill instead of his usual warmth.

All at once, he found himself flooded with guilt. And so Kyle tried to slip away, at least as much as he could before his uncoordinated limbs sent him tumbling off the bed.

"Mm. No." Jasper mumbled, breaking the silence of the room and sleepily pulling themself back against his body, "Stay. You're warm."

He froze in place, glancing down at them as they settled back in against his chest. They were already asleep, if they'd ever really woken up to begin with. His heart was pounding in his chest like it was the first time they'd ever pressed this close.

Tentatively, carefully, he let his arm fall around their back. Jasper turned their face against his chest with a deep, contented sigh.

And the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

____

The next shift came only a week or so later. He'd found a few more words in that time - after all, his mind was still painfully intact despite all he'd gone through, and there wasn't much else to do on those long days but try to find himself again.

Jasper had brought him an AAC board. As soon as Kyle got past his own pride about using it, he'd admit that it helped. At the very least, it saved him from stumbling and stammering for words that weren't ever going to spring free. And they'd promised him, time and time again, that he didn't need to force himself to speak. Communication with the board was still communication. It was all the same at the end of the day.

But in those long days, when Jasper was off at their classes and the witches were... well... doing whatever they did during the day, when Kyle was left alone? He practiced. He didn't need to get back to where he was. But he wanted to. He was tired of feeling like Frankenstein's monster, shambling along and groaning.

So he practiced. For hours, he practiced. There were a few words he needed to get back under his tongue.

The door closed with a bang, and Jasper's footsteps danced up the staircase in a flurry of motion. He knew it was them from the very first step. Nobody moved quite like they did. He found himself smiling before they even reached the door.

"Hey, babe," they said, looking tired but smiling at him as they entered the room, "Doing okay today?"

He nodded, working to loosen his tongue from the roof of his mouth. It still infuriated him, how hard it was to find words these days. It used to be so effortless. He'd taken it for granted.

He stretched to grab his AAC board from where it lay on the bed behind it, and Jasper made their way to his side to watch as he pointed to a few of the symbols.

How... work?

"Fine. Tiring. It's all that summer dehydration, y'know? Can't count the amount of IV's I had to put in today." Jasper muttered, sliding onto the edge of the bed and kicking their shoes to the corner of the room, "And I have a bout tonight."

"Mm. Tuesday." he mumbled in agreement. Jasper nodded.

"Yeah. Oh- hey, d'you want to come? Get out of the house for a while?" they asked, the idea striking them like a bolt of lightning, "We're up against one of the smaller leagues, so it shouldn't be too crowded there."

He thought on that one for a minute, but eventually shook his head with a low sigh. Jasper frowned, tucking their legs under them as they slid a little further onto the bed. They reached out, resting their hand lightly on his forearm.

"The others know what's going on. At least... they know enough. I'll find a chair for you, right up front." they promised, looking up at him with empathetic eyes, "If you want to go, we can make it work. I'll put everything together."

Again, he considered it. But again he shook his head. He didn't know if he was ready to be out in public again. Especially after what happened the last time. He didn't trust this new anger festering inside him.

"Alright," Jasper said, though their voice was sad. After a moment, they seemed to brighten a little and leaned into his side, "Anyway, I definitely need a nap or I'm gonna fall asleep on my skates. Wanna lay down for a bit?"

That, he could agree with. He slid back on the bed, giving Jasper room to take their usual place against his side.

"Ugh, hang on, I'm not sleeping in a binder," they muttered, taking a moment to wriggle out of the garment before curling up beside him. Kyle kept himself still until they made themself comfortable, not wanting to jostle them with his uncooperative limbs.

"Jazz?" he mumbled, praying his tongue would cooperate with him. Just once. Just for a few more words.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

He wanted to say more than that. He had paragraphs, pages, whole encyclopedias of words for them. He had monologues of affection that he couldn't bring himself to say, essays and theses and declarations of gratitude for how they'd stayed with him, how they'd helped him, everything they'd done for him. But he knew his tongue would freeze up again if he tried. He was forced to make do with this.

"I... I love you too." Jasper's voice was choked, breath hitching as if they were holding back tears. He hadn't been able to say those words since he returned, though he knew they could feel every ripple of affection that coursed through him at just the sight of them.

And as they leaned over and caught his lips in a kiss, he caught another sight of the sun.

____

Time passed. He found more words, both on his own and with the magical aid of the witches. Gradually he settled back into himself, and those lingering clouds began to drift away. If it weren't for the scars, or the way his words still fled when he got flustered, it was as if he'd never he'd never been through the horrors of his past.

But he still hadn't quite found his sunshine. The clouds came and went, but there still remained those lingering shadows hanging over him. And he'd stay there, some part of him still trapped in his mind, and wonder about how to regain those final missing pieces. Life was good, wasn't it? What else was there left to do?

He sat on the edge of his bed, indiscriminately smearing ointment on his scars. Most days, he did it twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. Any less, and they got maddeningly itchy - itches he couldn't scratch, of course, knowing the scars were about the only thing holding him together. When he began with the ritual, he'd been careful about it: covering every patch of scar tissue, rubbing it in until the cream vanished, diligently inspecting the skin to make sure it wasn't broken or cracked or infected.

Now he hardly cared. What had begun as a dedicated fifteen minutes was now a careless four-and-a-half, slapping on the ointment almost roughly and calling it good enough because he couldn't stand to focus on the scars any longer than that. He'd been careful in the beginning because he'd thought they would fade, that being diligent now meant one day he could relieve himself of this little habit.

But they hadn't faded. Not enough. He could still count every rough stitch in his skin, and he figured he always would. They'd stay this way, raised and pink and all too obvious, until he died- again.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Jasper until her hands were wrapped around his own, taking the little tub of lotion from him.

"It's fine. I've got it." he muttered automatically, already reaching to reclaim the tin. He wanted this over with. Two more minutes, and he could move on to something less painful.

"You're miserable."

"Not fair, Jazz." Kyle sighed, sure she'd simply peered into the tangle of emotion swirling inside him. Jasper shrugged.

"I don't need this," she said, tapping her chest to indicate that strange empathic sense of hers, "I can see it on your face. Y'know, like any normal person."

That startled a laugh out of him, a small one, and Jasper smiled as she sat down behind him.

The first touch almost startled him, cold lotion against the back of his neck. That, of all the scars, was his least favorite. It was so... inhuman. Reattached limbs were one thing - rare, yes, but Jasper had assured him more than once that she'd seen it happen. And she'd said, just as frequently, that there were surgeries that could leave scars like the one on his neck - tracheal, laryngeal, she'd even shown him pictures. But those scars didn't go all the way around. And nobody survived decapitation.

Jasper's fingers were gentle, moving in smooth and comforting circles as she rubbed the lotion into his skin. She ran her thumbs along the base of his shoulders, pressing in firmly like she was giving him a massage. Just for a moment, basking in the touch, it was easy to forget about the scars. Kyle shut his eyes and leaned into the touch.

When she'd finished with the area around his neck, she wordlessly shifted her grip to his arm and began working at the scars around his shoulder instead. Her fingers migrated a bit, gentle around the scars but pressing more firmly against the muscles of his back. He hadn't realized how many knots had accumulated there.

Kyle found himself continuing to soften into the touch, until he was practically propped against Jasper's body where she sat behind him. He could feel her shoulders hitch as she laughed, pleasantly amused at his reaction. Another moment, and she'd turned her head to kiss his neck, just under his jaw.

"Y'know..." Jasper murmured, trailing her fingers over that scar on his shoulder, "I think it's kinda sexy. Kinda rugged."

"Really?" he asked, a bit too much of his disbelief bleeding into his voice. Even if it hadn't, he was sure she could feel it radiating from him all the same.

"Mm-hm." she agreed with a hum, "Would've driven me nuts if I was still in my emo phase."

"Did you ever really leave?" he teased, pointedly flicking his eyes down her brightly-dyed buzz cut, her multitude of tattoos, the new nose ring she'd gotten the week prior.

"Shut up." Jasper huffed, though she was stifling laughter, "Now I'm punk, there's a difference."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Get it right." she told him, prodding him jokingly in the shoulder, "Seriously, I expected better from you."

"Alright, alright, I'll go revisit the notes." he drawled, dragging the words out with an exaggerated sigh. Jasper giggled, dropping her forehead against his back and weaving her arms around his waist.

It was that, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her arms around him, poking fun at each other like they always had, that finally scared off those last lingering clouds. Sunlight bloomed, full and unimpeded, for the first time in nearly a year.

Jasper felt it as much as he did. As that warmth spread, the chill finally chased from his skin, she let out a slow breath and melted against his body. He could feel her breaths, deep and content, brushing over the skin of his back.

"Did you do that?" he found himself asking. It wouldn't be the first time she'd woven those strings of emotion within him. Some nights he still needed her to bring him calm before bed, or he'd never escape the nightmares. And it was Jasper who'd untangled that knot of anger that had settled in when he first came back. He assumed this was another one of those, her trying to mend what had been broken and eroded within him.

But she shook her head, the edges of her buzz cut faintly prickling at his skin.

"All you, babe." she mumbled, sounding more relaxed than he'd heard her in months. She gave him a little squeeze, arms tightening around his waist.

"I missed that sunshine."

#my writing #my ocs #heartstrings fic #jasper wilson #ahs fanfic #ahs coven #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x oc #oc x canon #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #angst #angst with a happy ending #fanfic #fanfic author #one shot

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 1 year

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Ghost Story - Chapter 44

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1583

Warnings: Mention of near-death

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: None

Chapter Songs: Midnight Rain My Wish

****

Ghost

Ghost remained primarily bedridden for the rest of the trip back to port, only getting up for meals, and even then, she hardly ate. The pain kept her hunger at bay. If she ate too much, nausea rolled in, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurl while she had broken ribs. Those were painful enough. Ghost didn't need to add to it.

When they docked, Maverick and Hangman carried hers and Rooster's backpacks, considering they could barely lift themselves out of bed without injuries, let alone a heavy bag. The Daggers, Penny, and Amelia greeted the aviators jubilantly, which Ghost had expected. However, to her surprise, there were two more guests alongside them.

"Hollywood! Wolfman!" Ghost exclaimed, hurrying over to them as fast as her aching body would allow her to. Wolfman reached Ghost first, and she hugged him tightly, thrilled to see the man she considered an uncle. "What are y'all doing here?"

"I couldn't be here for you when your mom died, so I wanted to be here when you came back," Wolf replied, looking her up and down with concern. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"Turns out crashing into an enemy plane and ejecting twice wreaks havoc on your body," she joked lightly, wincing when her ribs let her know laughing, even the smallest of chuckles, was unacceptable.

Hollywood gently hugged Ghost. "Penny told us when you were returning and that you'd gotten into some trouble. Looks like you took a beating."

"It's a miracle she's alive," Maverick said, joining the group. He placed a gentle hand on Ghost's shoulder. "She even had me scared."

Hollywood whistled high to low. "Now that's saying something."

"Guess you really can't kill a ghost twice," Ghost remarked, trying to wriggle a finger down inside her wrist's cast, "but this itch might prove me wrong if I can't reach it."

"Don't use your finger," Wolfman chastised, swatting her hand away. "You need a wire or something."

"It's somewhere in my bag, but I don't know where. I can't wait to get home and go to sleep."

"We're having a celebratory dinner tonight, but you should have plenty of time to get some rest before then," Penny said, coming over to hug Ghost. The Daggers were soon to follow. Twenty minutes after a brief catch-up, the group dispersed but promised to be there for dinner later. Hangman, Ghost, Rooster, Penny, Maverick, and Amelia ambled to the parking lot. On the way, Penny said, "Hey, Ghost, Rooster- Maverick and I were talking, and we decided we weren't comfortable with you being by yourselves after such severe injuries, so we want the two of you to stay with us for a little bit, just enough to put our minds at ease that you won't have any complications and until you get your bearings living with the injuries."

"Oh, I don't want to intrude," Ghost protested. "I'll be fine, honestly. I've been through worse-"

"No, you haven't," Hangman interrupted, shooting her a disapproving glare. She shot him one back that silently but clearly said: Not helping.

"You're not intruding with us inviting you, and we want you to stay with us."

"Please?" Maverick asked, offering a small smile. "Put an old man's mind at ease?"

Ghost sighed, reluctant to crowd the Benjamin household but unable to say no to Maverick. Besides, she still needed to talk to him. Her mom had lied about when she knew him. There was still the possibility that he was her father instead of Nathan Winchester. "Fine, but I need to swing by my apartment to get some stuff to spend the night."

"I can take you," Hangman offered immediately. "I need to get my truck first, but I can-"

"Here," Maverick said, handing over the keys to his Jeep. "Take mine. Rooster and I can take his Bronco with the girls back to the house."

"Thanks, Mav. We'll be back soon." Hangman casually saluted the captain and then offered his arm to Ghost. She graciously took it, thankful for the support he provided, the same support he had always given her. He opened the car door for Ghost, and she slid in. After carefully buckling herself in, Ghost leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes, grateful to be home, alive, and mostly in one piece.

She recognized her body was exhausted and in need of some rest, but she severely underestimated how much because she had no memory of Hangman starting the Jeep, let alone the trip to her apartment, so Ghost found herself more than a little disoriented when she opened her eyes, and they were sitting outside her apartment.

"You with me?" Hangman queried, resting his hand gingerly on her leg. Ghost nodded, smiling sleepily at him. She meant to reassure him but judging by his hesitance to remove his hand, she failed to fully achieve her goal. He helped her out of the Jeep, and the pair strolled up to her apartment. Ghost kept her head down, the only thing that prevented the sun from making her headache worse. Hats and sunglasses hurt her head, too, so those were out of the question as well, much to her chagrin.

When they entered, Hangman grabbed the suitcase for Ghost while she set to work, getting enough belongings to last a week. Hangman helped her pack, bringing her things that required bending down or heavy lifting.

Hangman stayed unusually quiet, and Ghost never would've mentioned it had she not seen his trembling hand as he placed her hairbrush in the suitcase. Reaching over, Ghost gently grasped his shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, refusing to look at her.

Ghost opened her mouth to prod but then remembered the last time she did such a thing, it'd resulted in them having a fight, and she had no energy for a repeat of that situation. So, Ghost reluctantly let it drop. She tried to refocus, but her pounding headache- a side effect of the concussion- decided Ghost would focus only on that. She massaged her forehead. Pain medicine was out of the question since she'd taken some only a couple of hours ago. It helped but didn't fully rid her of her pains.

"Ghost? You okay?" Hangman asked worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah, just a headache. You?"

"I-" he cleared his throat- "I'm not okay..."

Ghost faced him, staring him down with concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"You," he croaked out. "You almost died because I wasn't fast enough taking out that last enemy. Hell, you did die on me temporarily when you coded during surgery."

"Jake-"

"I know death comes with being an aviator, especially when you're near or in hostile territory, but of all the people in my life I thought I'd lose because they were shot down or- or had a malfunction with their plane, it was never you. You weren't even on the list, so when I saw Rooster holding your motionless body in the waves..."

Tears welled in his green eyes as he dropped his gaze from hers. He quietly continued, "They train you for a lot of shit in the military, but they don't train you for this, to lose your best friend that you grew up with, the person you go to for anything and everything, the person who will always have a piece of your heart no matter how far apart we grow physically or emotionally... I'm not the guy you're supposed to be with, I know that, but-" Jake met her eyes once more- "that will never change how much I love you. The idea of not having you in my life, my best friend, it- it's paralyzing. And what's worse is that you almost died before I could make amends and apologize for how I treated you that evening at Maverick's hangar. I'd bottled that in for so many years, and I hated myself for letting you go, so I took it out on you, and I'm sorry, Annalise. For everything, I am sorry."

Without a word, Ghost pulled Hangman into a tight hug, ignoring the screams of protest in her banged-up body. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his giant frame shaking as a few, quiet sobs escaped from him. Keeping him enveloped in the hug, Ghost whispered, "You are not to blame for what happened up there or afterward, do you understand me? It's my fault for chasing after that enemy when I wasn't physically in shape to do so. I should've disengaged from the fight once you and Maverick got there. Do not blame yourself any further for that, okay? And I'm so sorry for scaring you the way I did. I would never intentionally hurt you. I could never do that to someone I love."

Hangman pulled away, wiping the tears off his cheeks and then brushing off the ones rolling down Ghost's. She hadn't even been aware she'd been crying too. Sniffling, he said, "We good?"

"Absolutely," Ghost replied, a weight lifting off her shoulders since she and Hangman had worked things out. Now, if only she could figure out how to salvage whatever was broken between her and Rooster. He'd been strangely quiet, hardly talking to her unless necessary, and while Ghost told herself it was the pain and the medicine causing him to act out of the ordinary, deep down, she knew better. Deep down, she knew that it had something to do with her...

****

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dangoarts · 1 year

Text

i realized something as i was falling asleep yesterday: if i want people to like the au i'm making, i need to actually share what the hell's happening in my brain. therefore

Blotted AU Masterpost!

I've mentioned the Blotted AU a bit here, but I've barely gone in depth about what it actually is. In short, it's a Batim/Batdr rewrite AU inspired by Epic Mickey. It roughly merges the concept of the Cycle with the early game story of Epic Mickey, ideas from Ink Machine and Dreams Come to Life, and the story of Dark Revival. The general plot is that the cast from Bendy and the Ink Machine are all dragged into the Cycle by the Ink Demon and now have to survive as a team.

Before I go in depth (and it's gonna be long i apologize), here is the google doc where I wrote down every idea dump I had for it, a cast list with their roles and brief history in the au, and a rough timeline. It won't be any better of a tl;dr for this post since it's a barely organized mess that only makes sense to me, but if you're interested in seeing how the au developed over time, feel free to give it a read! A lot of the idea dumps ended up being about Sammy whoops (he's my favorite).

~*~*~

The rewrite starts off when Joey commissions the Ink Machine from Gent. Originally it was to cut down on animation costs and time, but when he realizes he could make 3D actors with it, he starts to experiment.

His first attempt that lives is Ink Bendy. His disfiguration and uncannily human appearance is immediately met with hostility and rejection, and Joey basically crams him back into the machine to try again. Unbeknownst to him, that creates the Cycle and Bendy never actually died. The rejection and isolation along with being trapped in a realm that mimics the fleeting glimpse of the real world he could've lived in started brewing up his very negative feelings towards Joey and humans in general.

Joey tries to make Bendy again, but the only surviving clones are the Wandering Sin Bendy and Concept Bendy, both of which are "scrapped" like Ink Bendy. Once he accepts that Bendy won't work, he tries with the Butcher Gang. A lot more clones survive, but they all end up horribly disfigured and mutilated. All of them are thrown into the Cycle.

His attempts with Alice Angel make incredibly humanoid creatures (original Lost Ones minus the dead employee bit), and that leads him to try creating an actual human with the Ink Machine. Everyone is really concerned about his actions and the ethics behind it at this point, and they get Henry to try and stop him. Naturally, Joey ignores them, makes a secret room for it, and continues his experiments.

After numerous failures that end up creating the population of the Cycle, Audrey is born in 1941. Joey discovers the joys and struggles of being a single dad working an executive position until 1946, when the Ink Demon finally gathers enough power over the Cycle to control the Ink Machine. Joey Drew Studios floods with ink, and every employee in the building is dragged into the Cycle.

Nathan Arch inherits the studio rights and adopts Audrey like Joey's will requests. A lot of her childhood with Joey is forgotten due to normal childhood amnesia, but she still goes by Audrey Drew. Her life is relatively uneventful and she gets hired as an animator in Archgate Studios like normal.

Meanwhile, in the Cycle, the studio employees quickly have to find shelter from the hostile toons. After finding refuge in Artist's Rest, they start pushing back against the Ink Demon's relentless aggression. It turns into a war of survival, with each side fighting to trap or destroy the other.

The animators start losing the fight when Sammy gets his eye torn out by the Ink Demon. The ink from the wound creates a mental connection between the two, and he's slowly corrupted from the inside out. It culminates into the Ink Demon puppeteering him, forcing him to lead the toons into the animators' base. A massive fight breaks out that kills most of the studio employees, and the Ink Demon consumes Joey's soul to permanently kill him.

Besides Joey, the employees who died are reincarnated as toons or Lost Ones, dubbed "conversion death." Usually their memories of their past life are blocked off, allowing their original personalities to stay but creating a blank slate for the Ink Demon to control. Conversion killed toons can keep memories from their past human life, but they never keep all of them. They can also regain their human memories again, but the process is usually very confusing, drawn out, and painful, with the memories coming back as visions accompanied by migraines.

Sammy was conversion killed after the fight that killed Joey. He was made into the Ink Demon's second in command, complete with receiving a fraction of his power as shifting through walls and manipulating his ink appearance. Susie and Norman were conversion killed during the fight, and they became Twisted Alice and initially a Lost One respectively. Norman's body was incredibly unstable and needed mechanical implants to survive outside of the Puddles, resulting in the Projectionist.

Henry steps up in Joey's absence and leads the surviving few to the Gent workshop after a few days of living precariously without safety. They switch their focus from fighting against the Ink Demon to surviving, now locked in a defensive stalemate with the toon forces. During the time, Thomas uses the familiar tech and supplies to create the signal towers, sealing off the workshop from the toons.

During the stalemate, the animators still had to brave the studio to gather food and materials. Jack, Wally, Shawn, and Daniel did most of the scouring, and Allison and Thomas only ventured out whenever they needed more supplies for his machines. While on those missions, Daniel was conversion killed into Buddy Boris, Jack's left arm was slashed and corrupted, and Allison and Thomas were conversion killed together into Allison Angel and Tom.

Boris forgot everything from his past life, but still shows sympathy to the animators. He lets them stay in his hideout he made if they need to and helps them evade the other toons. Allison and Tom forgot most of their past, but they remembered that the Ink Demon was dangerous and the animators weren't. They quickly went back to their side as soon as they could.

In 1963, Wilson disappears from the real world after finding out what the Ink Machine does in Archgate's museum honoring Joey Drew Studios. In the Cycle, he picks up where Thomas left off on the development of technicolor to combat the toons, along with trying to create his own ink life. He succeeds at both with the creation of the Keepers and technicolor ink, and the war flares back up.

Eventually, he uses the technicolor to gravely weaken and imprison the Ink Demon after a large fight. Henry is against his actions and torturous experiments on the Ink Demon, and he leaves after getting into a massive argument with him. To everyone else, he completely vanishes, but he instead takes up residence with Boris.

In 1973, the Ink Demon escapes from his physical prison Wilson trapped him in. He starts to recover from Wilson's treatment, but still can't get past the mental prison of Dapper Bendy he trapped him in. On the anniversary of the studio's disappearance, Audrey is lured into the Cycle by the Dark Puddles. Most of the story here follows Dark Revival's, with Allison finding her after a Piper raises the alarm, Audrey discovering Bendy and accidentally shocking him with her power, the Ink Demon getting released periodically from his toon prison, and Audrey finally making it to the Gent workshop.

When the Ink Demon's toon prison destabilizes, he acts a lot more aggressive and automatically treats everyone as his enemy. He kills anyone he can get his hands on, which included an overjoyed Sammy that ran straight to his death. He calms down after Audrey shows him kindness as Bendy, and he especially calms down when she shows him that same level of kindness and additional sympathy both as Bendy and the Ink Demon once she learns what had happened to him.

However, during that, Sammy took the death extremely badly, believing that he was killed because he didn’t free him, and does everything he can to earn his forgiveness again. Along with suffering through memory flashes of his past life, he tries to sacrifice anyone he can get his hands on, which includes the other toons that once trusted him. They reject him as their leader and start forming isolated groups, with some of them becoming Amok and their followers, the Ink Jets, the Demon Followers that still fight against the animators, and colonies of Butcher Gang clones. Alice wanders the studio alone, and the Projectionist stays in his designated area.

Sammy gets imprisoned after trying to attack the Gent workshop in a desperate attempt to please the Ink Demon. During his imprisonment, he regains most of his memories and starts to question how genuine his loyalty was to the demon. Audrey finds Henry shortly after and brings him back. Henry explains the full history of the Cycle to her, including what Joey did and the revelation that she's not human.

I'm still unsure whether or not I want Wilson to create a big scene with Shipahoy Dudley, and if he did, he would permanently die like Joey. However, I do want Audrey to deescalate the situation between the Ink Demon and the animators. His problems all came from Joey, and the other workers did nothing and were against his actions with the Ink Machine. Once he calms down and stops, he'd release everyone who isn't native to the Cycle back into the real world.

The ones who died in the Cycle revert back to mostly human in the real world. Some traits from their previous forms carry over like scars, Alice and Allison keeping their horns for example. They'd have to readjust to living like humans again along with revoking their legal death status.

~*~*~

and that's it! if you made it this far congrats you're a trooper

i'm still working on it and i wanna make stories for it like i did with sammy already, so praying to the motivation gods that i can get enough brainthoughts to write

now that i have the explanation done i can go back to posting cryptic nonsensical stuff about it

#batim #batdr #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and the dark revival #batim dctl #batim au #batdr au #blotted au #blotted au masterpost #blotted au explanation #writing stuff #gif warning #long post

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era-of-the-moon · 1 year

Text

Inside the Wand

Full version of this.

--------------------

Moon watched her prey from afar, hidden in the shadows, waiting to catch the little blue abomination off guard. The ancient book opened in a flurry of pages, and a grumpy face peeked out, looking around suspiciously.

She called upon the ancient magic in her wand, twisting the dormant energy and forming a whip made of pure, neon light. She flicked her arm and the whip curled around Glossaryck, trapping her mentor in a glowing prison of magical rope.

She nonchalantly stepped into the room. "Lovely evening, wouldn't you say so, Glossaryck?" She greeted with perfect etiquette, but her eyes betrayed the depths of her anger and desperation.

Glossaryck scoffed. "Hm, you know, I could think of quite a few reasons not to find this evening 'lovely', and unfortunately it seems you are the cause of all of them."

Moon ignored his insult, grabbed a chair and sat in front of her now-prisoner.

"Listen, Glossaryck. I will make a deal with you. You will answer all of my questions and promise to help me, and in return I will let you go."

Glossaryck looked away, unimpressed by her attempt at negotiation. He started picking at his toes, which she found rather disgusting and disrespectful.

"One would think that as the heiress to an unfathomable power, you could offer me more than just my freedom for such valuable information that only I can provide."

Moon rolled her eyes and, with a quick flick of her wrist, summoned a small tub of pudding.

Her mentor's eyes were like saucers—it was evident that, in his grief, he hasn't eaten anything in weeks. He then grew uninterested again.

"Bribery. Classic Butterfly. It's still not enough, though. Your negotiation skills are lacking."

Moon felt her eye twitching and her leg unintentionally started bouncing - which was unbecoming of a young lady of her status. She really couldn't control her temper around him—he managed to get on each and every one of her nerves.

"Glossaryck, we both know that if I give you everything now you'll just be stuffing yourself with it and I won't be getting any answers."

Glossaryck, seemingly given up on negotiating farther, relented. "Fine, what do you want?"

Her mood slightly lifted now that he cooperated with her.

"I want you.." she hesitated and, for a moment, the facade of a ruthless queen was broken. "I need you to teach me to dip down."

His eyes narrowed. "...go on."

"I... I admit defeat, okay? I can't do it by myself. I've spent months giving it my all, but I just can't. I need your help."

She stood up and started pacing, caught up in her rant—months of pent up anger.

" –And you! You refused to help me for so long! You've been basically dormant for an entire year! I understand that you miss my mum, I miss her too, but I really need you!"

She turned and faced him, "Haven't I suffered enough? Haven't I proven my incompetence to you, and to all of Mewni?!"

She slumped down on the chair and covered her face with her hands, defeated. "I can't do everything by myself."

At the sight of his young student's agonized state, Glossaryck allowed his eyes to soften.

"It can be hard to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulder, all by yourself," he spoke as if the words hurt him, and Moon could sense true understanding in his voice, and felt some of her tension has gone—the year of distrust and unease between them began to melt away.

"Of course I will help you, my queen." He said softly, and they shared a heartfelt glance, full of understanding. Moon knew that she finally got her mentor back.

"Now, let us discuss the ins and outs of your problem-" Glossaryck started as he freed himself effortlessly from the confines of her magic, which then dissolved.

"Wait, you could've escaped this whole time?" Moon sputtered. "Glossaryck!"

Glossaryck floated upwards and ignored her.

"Now, The first step in solving a problem is to recognize its existence - and tonight you also achieved the magnificent and agonizing step of admitting it to an outside source—for which I applaud you."

She stared at him in disbelief, eyes wide. "...what."

"Here lies our problem," he continued, "you couldn't dip down because you refused to confront your emotions and admit your flaws."

Moon frowned. "What do my emotions have to do with anything? Such trivial things shouldn't be of importance."

Glossaryck eyed her. "My queen, your emotions should always matter. Especially when it comes to magic. Dip downs are triggered by strong emotions, and you've been refusing yourself those natural and healthy feelings for months—which in turn blocked the connection with your innate magic."

His leaned closer to her, sorrowful.

"You're only Mewman, Moon. It's okay to have feelings, even if you are the queen."

Her stomach twisted. She looked away. "Ugh. How do you suggest we deal with this problem, then?"

"Well, normally you'd console a therapist and go through a long process of healing and reconnecting with your emotions. But we don't have time for this. As a fresh queen, you are under constant threat, even with your new accords. We must go deep, straight to the bottom of the hot melted soup that is your mind."

She stared at him. "And how are we going to do that?"

"We must go inside... your wand."

"...what? How is that gonna help?"

"The wand is an extension of your memories. And before you dip down, it is the link between you and magic. You must confront yourself in the most intense way possible if dipping down is what you desire."

"That sounds... absolutely terrifying."

"Oh, yes, it's going to be very traumatic. Anyway, let's go!" He clapped his hands twice, and the world around her faded.

------------

"Now, it is very important that you do not leave my side - this place is very dangerous. Do you understand?"

Moon nodded, distracted, as she glanced around her. She could recognize the place from both nightmares and reality. Her own reflection greeted her from the many crystalline surfaces that sprouted from the ground. The cold air sent a shiver down her spine.

The Crystal Dimension.

Well, but not exactly the Crystal Dimension. It felt distorted, almost foreboding.

"-Moon, are you listening?"

She shook from her thoughts.

"Yes, yes!"

"Good, now lets go."

"Wait, where are we going?"

"On our first stop here we're going to visit someone very important. Hopefully seeing her will make you reconsider many things."

Moon narrowed her eyes at the thinly veiled insult. "Whatever do you mean, dear mentor?"

Glossaryck opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by an excited call, and Moon froze in her place. An icy sensation was spreading up her arms, as if she was being crystallized herself and added to Rhombulous's prized collection.

She looked to the owner of the voice, who was seated next to a crystalline table, sipping tea and looking rather pleased with herself. On the table were scattered countless forms of sweets and pastries, from snookers to creamed corn. She saw Glossaryck's mouth water, and she might have allowed herself to indulge in a sweet treat, if it wasn't for the painfully-familiar woman that greeted her from the other side of the table.

"Oh, Moon darling! It has been quite some time since we last met, hasn't it? Why don't you join me?" Eclipsa smiled gently. Moon eyed her warily, not trusting that smile one bit. She glanced at Glossaryck, who to her dismay was already making his way towards the former queen.

"Glossaryck, wait-!"

"Come on, Moon! Let's enjoy this lovely tea party!" Glossaryck said, ignoring her concern.

"Ugh." She reluctantly followed and sat across Eclipsa.

"So, I wanna hear all about how you've been since we've met. How did your boy problem turn out?"

"Ah, but I want to know all the details! Why you like each one of them, how they make you feel... you know, the juicy bits!" Eclipsa nibbled on a snookers bar as she rambled.

"...Boy problem?" No, no way she was discussing that. Eclipsa looked at her expectedly. Moon swallowed in embarrassment, and continued. "...Oh. Well I've been kinda avoiding it. Hopefully it will solve itself after my mourning period is over."

Moon stared at her, then her gaze shifted to Glossaryck, silently begging him for help.

He just motioned for her to continue talking. Not very encouraging.

"Uhm, I guess I really like River? He makes me laugh, and his optimistic mind is not something one may come across often.. my court doesn't seem to approve of our relationship though. They all pressure me to pursue Count Mildrew." While talking her hands found a crystalline tea cup near her and held it, desperate to distract herself from the conversation. Talking about feelings just wasn't in her element.

This is for dipping down. This is for dipping down. Moon took a deep breath.

She stared into the dark substance in the cup, her gloomy reflection staring back from its depth.

As she watched, her reflection changed - dark veins spread from her arms to her chest and head, her skin grew darker and her eyes were blazing with light. She gasped, startled, and nearly let go of the cup. When she blinked, the image reverted back, as if it was never there to begin with. Moon set the cup back on the table, deeply disturbed.

But what is in my element?

Eclipsa was talking to her, she realized. She tried to focus on her words.

"And you don't like him, do you? Oh, to be young and in love and to be married off to some puffy swine who sees you as nothing but your title, doesn't respect you or your privacy. But don't worry too much about that, darling! You can always elope with your sweetheart and forget the world around you…" Eclipsa trailed off, lost in a daydream, the half-eaten chocolate forgotten.

Moon was mortified from Eclipsa's implications. "What? I can't just—just abandon my kingdom!"

"Of course you can, darling, I did it! Besides, true love is worth it." Eclipsa sighed dreamily as she poured herself of the unrecognizable dark substance from a crystalline teapot.

Moon felt anger rising in her like a wave. "How can you say that? My mother died for this kingdom, I can't just abdicate the throne and leave it all behind! I'm… not like you."

"Speaking of your mother, how did my spell work out for you? Let me see your hands." Eclipsa grabbed Moon's left hand before she could even mutter her refusal, and slipped off the confines of her glove.

"Ah, now would you look at that! You still have some room for improvement, but we're truly alike now!" She gushed as she examined Moon's dark scars.

The water rose higher. "What? No!"

Eclipsa held Moon's hand tight, and seemed genuinely happy, possibly for having found solidarity with Moon sharing the marks of a killer on her arms. Moon trembled, nauseous, and wanted desperately to escape from the woman holding her hand.

She is only a reflection of your memories, part of her insisted. She is only a manifestation of Moon’s warped memory of a dark time and a combination of her nightmares.

Was this the same woman she had met a year ago, the one who had offered her sympathy and solidarity? It appears that Moon misjudged her nature.

Perhaps she is as bad as the High Commission claimed.

But she held the wand once, too, the other part argued. Eclipsa's essence is part of the wand, so there is truth in her appearance. The former queen's grip on her hand tightened, and Moon nearly shrieked.

"See? You're exactly like me!" Moon couldn't break free from the her grasp.

The waves crashed upon the shore. "No! I'm nothing like you!" In her stress and desperation Moon found strength and pulled hard enough to escape Eclipsa's hold. She grabbed Glossaryck from his pastries and started running away from the chamber, away from the former queen.

The young queen pushed the door open, prepared for a fight.

After running blindly for what felt like hours in the macabre, barren landscapes of the Crystal Dimension, Moon came to a halt in front of a large door. Engraved on the wood were familiar symbols, and Moon felt she was being pulled into the room, that something waited for her—something she needed to see. Something she dreaded.

"And so, we've arrived.” Glossaryck announced in a rather passive manner from his place on the top of her head. Apparently, her wise, old mentor decided it was prime time to nest in her hair. Once again, Moon recognized the room—though it's been ages since the last time she's been there.

“The Tapestry Room?” Moon asked Glossaryck, who left her hair and stared gloomily at one of the walls.

“Why did we come all this way for-” she stopped in her tracks as she realized what caught his attention. Comet's tapestry.

Moon took in a shaky breath.

"Oh, mother. I... I miss you so much." She let her hand rest on the fabric. "If only you were somehow here again..." she lowered her head, banishing the thought. She couldn't afford to start crying now, not after everything they've been through to get here.

"My queen," Glossaryck bowed before her. Moon looked past him, at a new tapestry. Her own.

She stalked toward it, amazed at the sheer size and drama depicted in the fabric.

"But... this isn't how it happened…" Moon mumbled. Her hands were aching—as if they remembered, too, how they were scarred.

An oval of stone rose from the floor in a cloud of smoke. Engraved on its surface were the words that arbitrated how she had gone down in history, her first courageous act as a Mewnian queen.

“The immortal monster will long be haunted, by the darkest spell of Moon the… Undaunted?”

Undaunted?

She clenched her fists, her eyes locked on the tapestry.

...Me?

When she spoke, her voice was slathered with anger.

“I still don't understand. How can that be my title, Glossaryck?" Moon demanded. "How can I be dubbed undaunted and yet be plagued constantly with fears and doubts?”

Glossaryck wasn't the one who answered.

“That's because all through-out history Mewmanity has abused the truth. You are so caught up in propaganda and lies that even your magic toes the line. You are not undaunted, Moon Butterfly. You're a coward."

Moon turned slowly, recognizing the voice that haunted her nightmares. Behind her stood the one who destroyed her dreams, her life. The one who left her without a mother.

“...Toffee.” she spat.

He stepped into the light, clad in full battle regalia, just as she remembered - and apparently, just as depicted in her tapestry - and just as arrogantly lacking armor. Those sickening skulls with painted cheek emblems were still part of his horrifying attire, the one with the diamonds returning her a blank stare, silently threatening, you're next. He was armed with a crescent-shaped blade, the sinister metal glistening in the dull light.

If he was not a manifestation of her memories, Moon would have thought he considered her a serious threat this time around.

"Moon the Coward, perhaps. Moon the Liar, quite fitting. Or maybe…" He then smiled in cruel mockery, fangs flashing.

"...Moon the Orphan."

She glared at him, but if looks could kill, his own title would no longer be that of 'Immortal'.

“You are nothing more than a frightened little princess, with a desperate hold on a blood-stained throne."

He drew out his khopesh and started stroking its curved blade haphazardly, not at all concerned by the sharp edge.

"Have you ever stopped to consider that your mother deserved her fate, little Butterfly? I watched the life drain from the queen’s eyes as I drove my knife into her heart, knowing that justice was finally served.”

“Shut up. Shut up!” she felt her scars burning.

“Do you honestly believe that you have power over Septarsis? Your little show of strength with your little spell won't last long. Your power isn’t even your own, but a queen’s who you condemned to a fate worse than death. And you couldn’t even kill me."

He pointed his blade towards her, the sharp edges glistening dangerously.

"You can’t control your emotions, you can’t rule your kingdom. The Butterfly lineage ends with you.”

Toffee stumbled back, his head already starting to regenerate.

“That.. Is.. Enough!” She shouted in defiance, the diamonds on her face igniting with light. Hands flaring blue with her searing magic, she blasted the Lizard’s head. It toppled to the floor, a smoking pile of bone and melted flesh.

"I will not tolerate such words from the likes of you! These words haunted my mind ever since I became queen. But those days are over! No longer will i tolerate such words, not in the voice of my mother’s killer!”

Toffee, his head fully formed, tightened his hold on his blade.

Moon removed her remaining glove and threw it behind her. The scars reached past her elbows, dark veins thriving on her rage. There was no longer place for fear or shame in her heart. Not anymore.

“I am queen Moon the Undaunted, and in the name of my mother, I swear to you that you will pay!” a sword made of sharp-neon light manifested in her hands to her voiceless command. Armed at last, the young queen attacked the monster.

She charged at him, blades clashing. Moon used the amplitude of her strike to twist around him and skilfully sink her sword into his lower back, cold light piercing flesh. To her dismay, moments after pulling the sword out, his skin looked as if never wounded in the first place.

I need a strategy, she thought in distress as she dodged his khopesh. Perhaps I could tire his regeneration by continually wounding him? Has anyone ever managed to kill a Septarian without dark magic?

While she contemplated his mortality Toffee turned around and thrusted his blade at her neck, which she barely avoided. In a graceful movement he thrusted again. She blocked him, metal meeting light. With another quick thrust from the opposite direction he used his speed and weight to hook the edge of his blade to her sword. He pushed on it, forcing her hand to release the sword, which immediately vanished into mist.

Guess i’ll have to be the first.

Unarmed, Moon leaped, twisting her body mid-air, and kicked the Septarian's face, which rewarded her with the satisfying sight of his blood. In retaliation he grabbed her other leg and started spinning her around like a bat, preparing to launch her into a wall.

Sword met Khopesh in a metallic klanck. Strike, parry, feint, strike, counter attack. Again and again.

Holding out her arm, she screamed "Meteoric Blueberries!" and explosive fruits shot out at him. She was dropped to the floor as Toffee lost his hold on her and was sent backwards from the force of the blast. He was immediately back up, not breaking a sweat. Moon cursed as he sped up towards her, barely standing up and summoning her sword once more.

She was more rusty than she'd like to admit. She needed to recede and attack from afar, before he could find an opening in her defence.

She fell to a fake stab and his tail slammed her into a wall, the impact so powerful it created a crater. She barely managed to get up as he stalked towards her with a mocking sneer on his face.

Using the wall for amplitude, she leaped, hands igniting, shouted "Azure Inferno!" and blusted him into what should have been a fiery oblivion. Instead, when she landed and the fire settled she found him... not dead. And angry. Furious.

"I've had enough of your games," he spat, and in a fit of incredible speed, he leaped at her and sank his blade into her back.

It bit deep. She screamed.

He tore it out and she fell to the floor, her numb mind instinctively summoning a shield. Toffee was swinging his blade at the force shield again and again, in attempt to weaken it and finish what he started.

You will not.

That's it, she thought, blood oozing from her wound and covering her hair, bright blue turned a deep crimson. I am going to die here, in my memories, defeated by my own mind.

She gasped, more in surprise than pain. The familiar voice echoed around her.

Your power is incredible, and only growing stronger by the day.

My sweet Moon. You will not die here today.

Mother…

Her shield was starting to crack.

My love. A butterfly is incapable of flight until the struggle to free herself from her cocoon has given her wings the strength to fly. Moonlight! Spread your wings and soar!

Toffee destroyed her shield and she screamed. He stabbed her heart with his khopesh, and suddenly, everything was clear.

Instead of the agonizing pain she expected, she found six arms blocking his blade, inches from her chest.

A gust of wind sent him stumbling backwards, as a set of wings carried her up into the air, and the Lizard watched, flabbergasted.

She held out her arms and whispered two words, the pair once written long ago, in a decaying book holding centuries worth of history and knowledge. Words written when she first got hold of that book, with the warm, guiding hand of her mother.

Powerful light beams shot out of her hands, and after the dust settled, Toffee was no more.

Lunar Flare.

Moon landed ungracefully, exhausted, wings and additional arms retreating. She collapsed, but instead of meeting the harsh ground, she found herself enveloped in a warm embrace. Her eyes opened just a creek.

"...mummy?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm right here, Moon."

Moon fought against her fatigue and sat up, hugging her mother back. She gasped in pain. The mother queen smiled at her. "Let's fix you up," Comet held her hand over her daughter's wound. She raised her hand, and the wound closed.

"How did you do that?" Moon mumbled in awe.

"We're in the mind. You can do whatever you can imagine in here." Comet smiled, "Also, magic," she added matter-of-factly.

"But we have more urgent matters to discuss, before you have to leave." Comet caressed Moon's cheek.

"Leave? But‐but I want to stay here with you! Ever since you… died, I felt like I wasn't actually alive! I've been living in a nightmare, sleepwalking. I can't do this without you!"

"oh, Moonlight." Her mother smiled sadly. "I'm afraid you must. Staying in here for too long is dangerous." The late queen held her daughter's gaze. "But remember this; I love you. When you're drowning in despair, remember my words, and turn them into strength. I love you, my sweet Moon. Don't you ever forget that."

They embraced each other, in what was probably the longest hug Moon had ever experienced.

"Glossaryck," Comet whispered, and when Moon blinked, she found herself back in her room, hugging herself.

With tears in her eyes, she whispered "Baloo-balee, baloo-balow. I let you go, I let you go."

When Moon opened her eyes, the world seemed just a little brighter.

-------------------

Silly bonus!

"Glossy.."

"yes, my queen?"

"I declare this.. misadventure.. only be allowed to embark on by a princess who's at least 18 years of age."

Glossaryck hummed. “That’s fair,” he acquiesced, like he wasn’t going to ignore that exact declaration many years down the line.

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liltaz-asatreat · 2 years

Note

Ask game! Ask game! Ask game!

"Fire" for the WIP asks please

You can find the ask game here! :D (Feel free to send a word in! I probably won't get to it until tomorrow though lol)

(And don't worry, Noodyl, I saw your other ask too, but I have multiple works with "fire" in it, so I'm gonna do both :D lol)

I don't remember if you've seen the few posts about this wip either, but this is from the new long term wip I'm writing called Double Troubles! If you haven't heard of it before, I can send you a link to where I talked about it more in depth :)

Anyway, here's the exert, and I'm adding a bit more than what I've been sharing with the other asks (like, a lot more, so much that it's the length of most of the Julia exerts I've posted lol) because I haven't shared a lot of this one, and I'm excited about this whole scene (it's gotta go under a readmore though):

(Also, credit to @institute-of-planar-shitposts for letting me use her taz OC, Sunshine, in my story [only in this bit she's only referenced as the half-elf bard Meadow saw in a tavern in the past] and the song Meadow sings is Could Have Been Me by The Struts [which I first learned of this song by watching Sunny's Sunshine tiktok using the song here] And you should totally check out the stuff Sunny's shared about her story she's writing about Sunshine!! I think she has it tagged as "Sunshine" on her blog and I have all the reblogs tagged "Sunshine tag! :D" on mine)

Meadow grabs Magnus' hand, and he helps him out of the well and onto solid ground. He looks around, still trembling, and...

It's just gone.

Everything is... it's just gone.

The only things left where Phandalin once stood are the charred remains of buildings standing at the very edge of a perfect circle of black glass and, in the epicenter of the circle, a burned out dwarven figure standing with his right arm raised in the air and on the end of it is the silvery gauntlet.

This has got to be enough evidence to know that he's cursed, right? Would this still have happened if he hadn't been anywhere near this?

“Meadow, I– I know, but I need help getting the others out,” Magnus says, disrupting his thoughts and delaying the inevitable doom spiral that he surely will go down later.

“Right. Yes, of course.” Meadow mumbles, and he grabs the part of the rope Magnus offers him before Magnus gets behind him with the end of it to act as an anchor.

Together they manage to help the other boys out of the well, and then all four of them work together to pull Killian out too. After they drag her a few feet away from it, they all stop and look at each other in silence.

“So what now?” Taako asks, and Meadow laughs a little hysterically.

“I have no fucking idea.”

“Well, we can't leave the gauntlet here,” Merle says as he looks over at it with his hands on his hips.

At this rate, Meadow's going to become a Pokémon master of super powerful, indestructible artifacts because he has a funny feeling that the gauntlet is going to be just as resistant to everything as the amulet is.

“Killian was looking for it and knew what it was, so she must have some sort of way to contain it,” Magnus says.

“I don't trust her to take it no matter if she has something to contain it or not,” Meadow says immediately.

The others look at him questioningly. “Why not?” Merle asks. “She definitely knows more about it than we do and wanted to avoid this happening.”

Fuck!

“Uh... Because I–” Meadow sighs. “I've seen something like this before.”

“Wait, you have?” Magnus asks incredulously.

“Well, why didn't you tell us what was going to happen then?!” Merle asks angrily.

“Yeah, any information could've helped, Dow!” Taako agrees, and Meadow winces.

“I– I didn't know this was going to happen!” he says defensively. “I didn't even know it was like the– the other artifact I saw once a few years ago until it was too late!”

Taako and Merle scoff, but Magnus' face relaxes slightly. “Do you know anything about it that could help us now?”

Meadow licks his lips nervously and nods slightly. “Yeah, uh... the other artifact like it... It takes over the will of whoever is using it like the gauntlet did with Gundren. And it's really powerful and really hard to beat the temptation to put it on and use it; I... I'm the only person I know of who's been able to handle something like that without using it.”

“Well that's convenient,” Taako says sarcastically.

“I mean, it's true!” Meadow says desperately. “I'll even say it under a Zone of Truth spell if I need to! Look–”

He takes a deep breath, his heart hammering wildly as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the amulet. It's a deep green emerald shaped into a teardrop with silver trim, and it's set on a thin golden chain. He holds it up by the chain to let the boys look at it, and it starts whispering again.

“What the hell?” Merle asks quietly. He reaches out to grab it, but Meadow yanks it away.

“No! You can see it with your eyes, but don't– don't touch it.” he says in a panic.

“What did that do that was just as bad as the gauntlet?” Magnus asks, tearing his eyes away from the necklace to look at him.

He fights the urge to look away from him, mostly because he needs to keep an eye on all of them to make sure they don't lunge for it. “I... I don't want to talk about it,” he says quietly. “Please just... just know that... it was bad, okay? I've been trying to find a way to destroy it for years now, and nothing's worked, so I have to keep it on me. And I guess– I guess also that gauntlet.”

Meadow stuffs the amulet back into his pocket, and Taako eyes him warily.

“Don't you have a spell that identifies what magic objects are?” he asks. “You were buzzing to cast it on the umbrella and the gauntlet before Gundren took it. Do you think you'd be able to figure out anything else about the glove?”

“I can give it the old college try,” Meadow says with relief. “To be honest, I don't know if I'll get any more useful information from it though if it's made by the same person who made the amulet because I tried casting it on that too, but all I got from it was a really intense headache.”

Taako frowns. “Weird. You sure you were casting it correctly?”

Meadow rolls his eyes. “Yes, Taako, I was casting it correctly. It's not like that was my first time casting the damn spell.”

“Well, while you go do that, we'll tie up Killian, so that when we wake her up, we can get more information from her about what she was doing here in the first place,” Magnus says.

“Yeah, good idea!” Merle says. “I can heal her after you do that.”

“Is it alright if I come with you to the gauntlet?” Taako asks, and Meadow's shoulders tense up again before he quickly adds, “I'll give you space, but I figure just because you were able to pick up the necklace without putting it on, that doesn't mean the glove wouldn't be different.”

Meadow relaxes again as much as they can in this situation and nods. “Yeah, if I start to put it on...” they swallow hard. “If I start to put it on, don't hesitate to kill me, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Taako asks slowly, and they immediately nod.

“Positive. I'd rather die than be allowed to use that thing.” Even if it means they'd die in the Plane of Logic too. They still don't know how that works.

The two of them walk toward the gauntlet, and as they do, Meadow looks around the area more carefully. They were convinced while being awake in the other plane that Barry would be okay and able to talk to them after he died, but he's obviously not here anymore. They have no idea what they meant by that or what they should even be looking for, but if Barry was a ghost or something, he should still be here, right?

Taako peels off to the side as Meadow gets within five feet of the glove. They stop walking and look around the empty field of glass one last time.

Just more proof that they don't know what their talking about up in that other plane.

Meadow sighs and focuses back on the gauntlet. They take a few tentative steps forward when it starts speaking in their mind.

“Heeeyyy, buddy! Hey, buddy, put me on! Haven't you ever wanted to control fire? To know how it feels to hold that kind of power? I can help you defeat your enemies and protect the people you love!”

Meadow snorts with scorn. “I don't have anyone left on this plane that I love, not anymore, and I don't have any enemies either,” they say quietly, so that Taako doesn't hear. “You can fuck right off.”

They feel a wave of desire and enchantment magic wash over them, but they resist it with relative ease. After the wave passes, the gauntlet becomes quieter, and they feel more confident walking up and grabbing it.

They look over at Taako who looks tense with his wand out, and they give him a thumbs up. “It's all good!” they call out. “I'm gonna cast the spell now, but it's gonna be about ten minutes.”

Taako looks both a little relieved and a little annoyed. “You're casting it as a ritual? Just use a spell slot on it, we don't have all night!”

“I don't have any spell slots left,” Meadow says helplessly. “I only get mine back after sleeping and resting for about eight hours.”

Taako shakes his head and sits down on the ground. “Well, I can't leave you here by yourself, so start casting I guess.”

Meadow sits down too and holds the gauntlet in one hand as they go for their bag before they stop themself and put their other hand back down on their knee.

They can't play their clarinet one handed, so it looks like they're going to have to sing.

They mentally shuffle the songs that they know that are somewhere close to the forefront of their mind, and they settle on a song they first heard a half-elf bard sing in a tavern close to the Fountain Pens and Silver Ink guild hall. Makes sense that would be the one to come up considering the situation, and gods do they need the pick me up.

“I don't wanna live as an untold story,” they begin singing quietly. “Rather go out in a blaze of glory. I can't hear you, I don't fear you–”

“Are you going to start casting yet?” Taako calls out to them, and they stop singing and sigh in frustration.

“I mean, I already was until you interrupted me!” Meadow calls back, and as they do, the faint glow of golden light that was starting to surround the glove fades away again.

“I thought you cast spells with your clarinet or whatever,” Taako says.

“Yeah, usually! But I can't exactly play it one handed, so I'm singing!”

Taako frowns. “You are? You're not that far away, and I couldn't hear you.”

“I don't like singing in front of people; I told you that already. And I don't need to sing loud for it to work.” Meadow says irritatedly.

“You were singing Bohemian Rhapsody just fine with us in the cave!”

“Because everyone who knows that song sings it at the top of their lungs whether they sound good or not. It's literally impossible to not sing that one quietly!” they say as they roll their eyes.

“You didn't even know everyone knew it until Magnus told you that and Killian recognized it!” Taako says exasperatedly.

Meadow's face heats up in anger and embarrassment. “Do you want me to fucking cast this spell or not?”

“Yeah, fine, do your thing.” Taako waves them off, and they roll their eyes again.

“I don't wanna live as an untold story. Rather go out in a blaze of glory. I can't hear you, I don't fear you! I'll live now 'cause the bad die last. Dodging bullets with your broken past. I can't hear you, I don't fear you now!”

Meadow continues singing as the gauntlet begins to glow gold again, and as they sing, the light gets brighter and brighter until it steadies out at about the brightness of a halogen light bulb. They loop the song a couple of times until the spell is complete, trying to take to heart the fact that they can't hear the gauntlet nor fear it and ignore the fact that they are very much wrapped up in regret, and all at once, they're bombarded with what could only be described as static.

Their vision goes gray, and not in the way where everything turns gray-scale. Literally all they see is the color gray with different shades of it moving around like the static on a TV when they switch to the wrong channel. They can also hear that TV static noise loud in their ears, and they yelp in panic as they drop the glove and cover their ears instinctively. Their brain feels like fuzz, and they get slammed with a massive headache.

They squeeze their eyes shut tight and rock back and forth, still covering their ears and trying not to cry at how overwhelmingly loud, overstimulating, and painful it all is.

After about a minute, everything slowly starts to fade again, and it leaves their ears ringing more than usual and their heart still thumping wildly with anxiety.

“Meadow? Can you hear me?”

They feel someone put a gentle hand on their arm, and they jump in the air so bad as they recoil that they tip over and fall on their side.

Their eyes snap open as they see Taako standing over them looking worried.

“Sorry, it's just, you screamed a little and started... doing that–” He gestures at them helplessly. “–and then you didn't respond.”

“Oh, yeah, um... sorry about that,” they mumble, face heating up a lot as they push themself back up into a sitting position.

“Are– are you okay?” Taako asks. “Did the gauntlet do something to you?”

Meadow shakes their head. “No– I mean, yes, I'm okay, but no, the gauntlet didn't do anything to me exactly. I just... I didn't get anything from the spell except static. A lot of it. And it was painful.”

Taako frowns. “Like how we can't hear Killian static?”

Meadow thinks about that for a second. “Actually, yes. A lot like that.”

#thank you for sending this in; Noodyl!! :D #Gab gabs #ask game #written works of Gab #Double Troubles

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addictedtostorytelling · 2 years

Note

Hello! Thanks for all your insights. I have a question about the nature of Sara’s relationship with Hank. Do you think they had sex, or was it more just do on dates?

hi, anon!

oh, they absolutely have sex!

remember: sara and hank date for over a year in show-time. there's no way that a scoundrel like hank would hang around for that long if all he were getting out of the arrangement were (chaste) nights at the movies or dinners out. after all, he could've had those things with his other girlfriend, elaine, and not gone through all of the trouble of maintaining a complicated and potentially dangerous "double life" where he was stringing two women along otherwise. for him, the whole point of being with sara—i.e., of having a second girlfriend—is so that he can have another woman to have sex with.

and, frankly, while sara downplays that aspect of their relationship in grissom's presence in episode 03x02 "the accused is entitled," the truth is that, for her, her and hank's relationship is largely just about the sex, too.

let’s face it: hank’s pretty, but he ain’t smart enough for the likes of sara sidle. he’s not interesting enough for her, either. he lacks emotional depth. has no poet’s soul. he’s not half the man that gil grissom is.

sara is not dating him for the conversation.

she’s also not dating him for any kind of “love match.”

let’s be real: she’s in the relationship for the companionship—both of the “night out on the town” AND the “between the sheets” kinds.

—because, really, those are the things that she’s not getting from grissom atm.

as i talk about here,

in sara’s mind, she’s been waiting around for grissom to act on their mutual feelings for each other for two and a half years now. she moved to vegas expressly for the purpose of being with him, and he knows it, and she knows it. she thought they were going to date, but then they didn’t, and, ever since, she’s been clinging to that old hope, keeping herself “available” to grissom and trying to be patient until he comes around. she’s been playing the part of the good “work girlfriend” to him, but nothing has come of it. grissom keeps evading her and giving her the runaround, so what choice does she have but to accept that he has no interest in having a romantic relationship with her outside the lab, you know? she can’t keep starving herself of the things she really needs on the off-chance that maybe someday grissom will work up the courage to make a move.

she’s got to live her life.

hank seems like a nice enough guy, and he obviously wants to be with her, so why not go for it with him? it seems like he can give her everything that grissom can’t or won’t: i.e., he can be there for her outside of work, be open about how he feels about her, do activities with her, have sex with her, share a life with her, etc.

sara’s connection with hank remains largely superficial, despite going on for a fairly long time—and, honestly, that’s how sara prefers things.

as i talk about here,

outside of with grissom, sara tends to form shallow—mostly physical—relationships with good-looking guys to whom she does not very deeply relate, either on an intellectual level or a personal one. her m.o. seems to be “find somebody who’s pretty to look at and not altogether intolerable. stay with him until he disappoints you, and then move on. wash, rinse, repeat.”

one might look at this pattern and say that sara simply has poor relationship skills (or, as warrick quips in episode 07x17 “fallen idols,” has bad taste in men), but while that observation isn’t untrue, i think there’s more to the issue than perhaps first meets the eye.

in episode 05x13 “nesting dolls,” sara mentions that she tends to “choose men who are emotionally unavailable”—and my thought is that she does so in order to protect herself from having to be vulnerable with them, and specifically so that she won’t have to talk about her past.

while of course sara has no idea that hank is living a double life and keeping her as his “woman on the side” when she first starts dating him, my sense is that sara is nevertheless on some level aware that hank isn’t going to push her to disclose more than she wants to—that he isn’t really interested in forming a deep, emotional bond.

i gather that what sara says in episode 03x02 “the accused is entitled” about her relationship with hank being mostly about “going to the movies” isn’t altogether a lie (though she does certainly downplay the sexual component to the relationship because grissom is standing right there).

her relationship with hank is mostly a “go to the movies together” kind of relationship—“go to the movies” and have sex, but not necessarily build a life together or bare their souls to each other in any meaningful way. they fit each other in around their busy professional schedules (and, in hank’s case, his relationship with elaine alcott), but there is no sense that their relationship will ever progress or intensify. it’s not as if either one of them anticipates an engagement or marriage to come.

it’s worth noting that, in show time, sara and hank’s relationship spans from january ’02 to may ’03, and yet they never move in together, even though they date for over a year.

that both hank and sara are able to hide big, important parts of their lives from each other with relative ease—hank, the truth about his other girlfriend; sara, the truth about her family background—speaks to the fact that their relationship does remain mostly superficial, right through to the very end.

this arrangement, of course, suits hank because it allows him to keep his two lives—and two girlfriends—very separate from each other. that sara is so aloof makes it easy for him to balance his more domestic life with elaine with his more “fun-based” fling with her. but sara also benefits from this compartmentalization, as she is able to have companionship outside of work (which, in s2 and s3, is something she wants but knows she cannot get from grissom, who would be her first choice to go to otherwise) without ever having to worry that hank will delve too deeply into who she is or where she comes from. because he doesn’t really ask, she doesn’t even have to lie, per se; just keep quiet. as long as their relationship remains focused on sex and shared activities, there is little danger that she will ever have to disclose those truths which she would rather keep private.

while i can’t substantiate my claim, i speculate that had hank ever started to express serious curiosity about sara’s past or seek to deepen their connection, sara would have panicked and immediately ended the relationship.

not just with hank, but with her college boyfriend, doug wilson, and taylor wynard, as well, sara chooses men who are emotionally unavailable as a safeguard against having to become emotionally intimate and/or disclose her past. she so fears that anyone who were to learn the truth about her childhood and family history would reject and think badly of her that she preemptively prevents this from happening by choosing to partner with men who are only too happy to keep their relationships with her at the surface level and based mostly on sex.

to continue from this post,

the same kinds of evasive, aloof behavior that might make another woman start seriously side-eyeing hank and wondering what he was up to are exactly what makes sara feel like it’s okay to be with him for so long.

that he never wants anything more from her than to go out to eat or to the movies, grab a drink, and then head back to her place for some sex before bidding her goodbye for the night is what she considers ideal.

she doesn’t have to worry about him falling in love with her and her being unable to reciprocate (as there is nothing in his comportment that would suggest that his feelings for her run more than skin-deep or even someday could). she also doesn’t have to lie to him because he isn’t curious about or embedded in her life enough to brush up against the topics that she has deigned off-limits for him and everyone else in the world.

if he were a more involved boyfriend or his feelings for her were more serious, she might have to start generating excuses as to why he couldn’t meet her bff from college and staving off his questions about her childhood hopes and dreams and straight-up lying to him about why she doesn’t have a single photograph of her parents displayed anywhere in her apartment. she might also have to examine the moral implications of dating him while knowing full-well that she was still in love with grissom.

that she doesn’t have to do any of those things—and that their relationship remains at the same low level of emotional and social intimacy from start to finish—is the only thing that keeps her with hank for so long, to be honest.

when sara and hank break up, it’s telling that her primary reaction is embarrassment rather than heartache.

to continue from the above-linked post,

she isn’t actually heartbroken about losing hank, as she wasn’t really attached to him to begin with, but him misusing her so heinously—playing her for a fool, treating her like a toy, using her own tendencies against her—does cause her to feel pretty bad about herself and contributes to her already extant sense that something is deeply wrong with her.

she’s not dumb: in hindsight, she realizes that there were a million red flags in their relationship, but she ignored them all because she liked the color.

now she wonders: what kind of fucked-up person is actually happy with an absentee boyfriend? really, what does it say about her that her ideal relationship is one where the guy she’s with is cheating on her and she’s essentially enabling him to do so due to her massive commitment issues?

she realizes, in retrospect, that she was so content with having a relationship that was based pretty much solely in the physical that she “allowed” hank to use her.

the ironic thing, of course, is that prior to finding out about elaine, sara had actually felt somewhat guilty for dating hank while still very much being in love with grissom; it never occurred to her that the road of “i’m using you to get mine because you’re not interested in any kind of deeper connection” could be a two-way street. she had thought she was the one who was being unfair.

it’s a shock to her system when she realizes that hank was being even less emotionally honest than she was the whole time they were together.

anyway.

i’m letting this answer run long now, but the bottom line is: yes, sara and hank absolutely sleep together! they wouldn’t ever had stayed together for so long if not for the sex, in fact.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #**#my meta #meta: sara #meta: csi #hank peddigrew #let's talk shop #csiverse

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mtreebeardiles · 1 year

Text

Chasing Storms, pt 8

Interlude III: Before (Rogue) also on AO3!

The Afterlife was known for having its fair share of interesting characters.

Part and parcel for the sort of biz conducted in its converted halls and backrooms, and the fact most of Night City was under lockdown after the attack on Arasaka didn't impact its patronage any. Harsher regulation as to whom gained access, additional security measures in place for all none of the Afterlife Mercs claimed responsibility for the havoc wreaked on 'Saka's systems, but Rogue hadn't lived as long as she had by getting careless.

So even with the true culprit safely hidden away with the Nomads, she kept the vetting system strict as a matter of course while the city adjusted to its new normal.

Left us a lotta fires to put out, kid. But she couldn't deny that she was impressed with what V had pulled off: a solo attack on the tower, so far as she could tell, accepting this unlikeliest scenario as the truth given how pissed off all his friends were. Panam had been all but spitting nails when Rogue reached out to her and the Aldecaldos, demanding to know what the fuck V had been thinking charging in there all on his own when he'd known he could've called on them for help.

His reasons weren't of immediate interest to Rogue, though, and she'd endured an impressive twenty minutes of Panam's hot air before finally losing her patience and asking if the girl and her clan were still willing to help him in the aftermath.

An immediate yes, a few more calls, and Rogue had learned the crazy son of a bitch hadn't called a single damn soul for help before running what should have been a fucking suicide mission all by himself. Johnny, she'd long since deduced, did not count as support -- moral or otherwise, though she had to wonder how much of it had been his idea.

Never thought you'd go after Smasher without me. It stung for some reason, even though logic told her it was best to let it go. Smasher was dead, Johnny was gone, and V…

V still wasn't responding the last time she'd seen him.

No way to know what he'd encountered in that tower, what he'd found in its depths. No way to know how he'd made it as far as he had, how he'd hacked into one of the most secure access points in the City -- hell, probably the most secure in the country -- nor any way to guess how he'd crawled his way back out again. Broken, bloodied, what few words he'd had left calling out for a ghost that was no longer there…

Then nothing.

No words, no recognition, gaze turned inward, unresponsive to voices, to touch. Hollowed out and empty, save for the fact that his brain was still showing signs of activity and his heart was still beating.

Rogue had seen plenty of fucked up shit in her years as a solo, as a fixer. But that sight had unnerved her, stuck with her, and maybe it was all the threads that connected them together -- threads originating, of course, from Johnny -- but enough of it was just…V. His honesty, the way he held his principles without turning them into platitudes to preach at others, and she hadn't been lying when she'd said it'd been easy to tell the difference between him and Johnny. V's face wasn't meant to smirk like that, and for all the kid was tough as nails she felt confident in concluding he hadn't a mean-spirited bone in his body. Maybe spite, but it was spite that had to be earned first, and nothing approaching what Johnny had been capable of harboring.

Unusual, for a merc. Potentially fatal.

He just made it work.

She resettled in her booth, fresh glass in hand, and gazed out at those gathered at the bar, at the high-tops, huddled in the other booths. Wondered if he even knew how often his name fell from their lips, how many mutual contacts had asked her if she knew anything about where he was, if he was even alive. No direct connection between 'Saka and V and she made damn sure it stayed that way, but the kid had been crafting his own legend all along that broken, jagged path he'd walked. Made good with more than one fixer, direct requests for his services ticking up the more work he did around the City, and she could only shake her head at how short-sighted Dex had been to try and waste such incredible talent just to save his own ass.

Karma, at least, was still a bitch.

And he did it all with that clock counting down, every single day, getting sicker and sicker. Maybe tenacity was tempered by not having much left to lose, or maybe he just was tenacious. Had never stopped chasing a solution, grit and determination unblinking against impossible odds and maybe that's what disturbed her the most about his current condition:

It seemed too much like giving up, when she'd been convinced that concept wasn't in his vocabulary.

Slowly the City began to recover from its shock. Lockdowns lifted section by section though the threat of reinstatement hung over all their heads. But people were getting out again, the streets filling with traffic pedestrian and vehicular, gangoons and mercs and working folk alike easing back into an approximation of how things used to be. Heavier NCPD presence, tensions running higher than ever, everyone wondering when the next shoe was going to drop. Too hard to believe that 'Saka's infrastructure had been all but decimated, their subnet in the City shredded, and Rogue couldn't exactly blame them. It was harder to see the scope of the damage in real space, the ruins of their 'Net not as immediately impactful as a smoking crater where a tower had once stood, especially since the tower was still there this time around. It hadn't felt like a terrorist attack the way it had back in '23, and only the most perceptive of 'runners could appreciate how devasting the blow had been.

But there were other things, other hints that all was not well beyond rumors and the heightened security presence. More funding shifting towards Militech fed whispers of oncoming war, of an opportunity to strike while their greatest rival was down, threats of drafts and the fallout of another Corpo war enough to keep even regular citizens on edge.

Needless to say she anticipated an uptick in work for mercs and solos, and the amount of jobs flowing through the Afterlife in the weeks after was enough to prove her right. The bar's capacity swelled back to what it had been before, though most of the security remained, and so it was that Emmerick contacted her directly when an unexpected guest arrived nearly a month after the attack.

"Got a rockerboy here to see you."

Rogue frowned, setting aside her glass with a sigh.

"I'll be right there."

Maybe it shouldn't have been such a surprise, really, to find Kerry Eurodyne on her doorstep. He'd called her right after the attack, after all, had reached out for her help, eddies in hand, and she didn't doubt some of their own shared history had played a part in that. Still, she hadn't seen much of him since, no contact beyond sending her the money owed for arranging care and transport for V, and she wasn't entirely sure why he was here now.

Rogue didn't like being in the dark, and uncertainty made her cranky.

"Come with me," she said by way of greeting once she'd found him at the club entrance. Didn't comment on how he looked like shit, like he hadn't been sleeping much, tension obvious in the way he held himself. Didn't remark that the sunglasses only hid so much and he was still pretty recognizable with that chrome at his throat, with those rings on his fingers, but maybe he wasn't actually trying to hide.

Maybe he was just hungover, and the glasses helped manage the light.

She didn't take him back to her usual booth all the same, opting instead for one of the smaller, private rooms in the lower basement. Even if he wasn't trying to keep people from recognizing him, she had a feeling whatever they needed to discuss would be a conversation better had somewhere with less eyes and ears on them.

He didn't say anything as he followed after her, silent still as he settled in one of the chairs and waited for her to claim the other seat. She set her glass down on the table and crossed one leg over the other, examining him for a moment. He didn't look any better in this light, face drawn and tight, and her guess about a hangover seemed right on the mark when he winced upon taking the glasses off.

But he didn't put them back on, instead hooking them in the collar of his shirt before he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees.

"Was wondering if I could hire your services again," he began, voice rougher than she remembered. Kerry'd always had a natural rasp to his voice, but this was deeper, more tired, hoarse in a way that suggested a tight throat holding back all the things he really wanted to say but couldn't.

"Depends on what, and how much it'll run you," she replied. And, because she couldn’t seem to help herself, she added, "is this about…V?"

A nod, and Kerry huffed out a sigh.

"Got some tips about a…procedure. A treatment, that…that might help him?"

"Like a shrink?"

"Not his mental state," the man clarified. "The Relic is um… it's still killing him."

Rogue felt coldness settle in her gut even as she frowned.

"Thought we already confirmed -- Johnny's gone, so why…?"

But Kerry was shaking his head, running a set of fingers through his hair. "It was pretty advanced, by the time he did…whatever the fuck he did, to get Johnny out. Nanites or some shit, I'm not too clear on the jargon, but… it's still overwriting him. Still deteriorating…" Kerry trailed off, words locked away again, and Rogue didn't push. Her own thoughts were racing, flicking through her connections, her contacts, determined that there was something there, some resource…

"He knew."

Kerry's whisper, interrupting her process and drawing her back to the present. She looked over at him, not understanding. Blue eyes rimmed in gold met her own a moment before dropping back to his hands. "V knew he wasn't going to make it."

"What do you mean?"

"He told me."

Rogue blinked. V was talking? Why hadn't anyone told her?

Why would they?

It's not like they'd been friends.

"He told you…?"

Another breath, this one shaky, but Kerry's voice was stronger when he continued. "Told me that even though Johnny's engram had been removed, he was still going to die sooner rather than later. Six months, maybe a bit more. He's… still coughing up blood. Panam and their Nomad ripper confirmed with scans that it's still fucking…still fucking killing him. After all that shit, all he did…"

Kerry's hands clenched tight against his knees, but his eyes were clear when he met her gaze again.

Determined.

"But there's this treatment -- something they developed for MS. Can repair and rebuild neural tissue, and if someone can adapt it, maybe…"

Rogue nodded, leaning forward and mirroring his position, elbows on her own knees. Refocused her attention, tapping into relevant databases and pulling up the best places to start. She was familiar with the treatment he meant, had heard about it on and off on the news and in radio casts, but hadn't paid it much mind, before. Hadn't had a reason to. But now…

"Think you can help?"

"I'll see what I can do."

V had never stopped fighting, after all.

And neither would she.

#my writing #male V #nomad V #Vincent Aiello #Rogue Amendiares #Kerry Eurodyne #Kerry x V #Kerry x male V #Cyberpunk 2077 #Chasing Storms #yeah ok guess this is def my unofficial nano project now huh

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