#I’m gonna break this down as a person whose family is impacted on both sides. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dennou-translations · 3 years

Photo

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 2

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

← Previous || Index || Next →

The Night and the Auto-Memories Doll

Everything went around.

From past to present and from present to future. The dead bodies that decayed within the soil would dissolve into the earth, and from the earth, too, would new living creatures be born. Within a few hours’ time, curtains made of stars and nightly shades would be covered over by curtains in the colors of dawn.

People went around as well.

Children would be born, muster out their voices, start walking and, once they became aware of their own selves, their stories would begin. A cycle of discovering passion, coming to know love, stopping to be children and, upon sympathizing with other families, birthing offspring just as their parents had done. A cycle of learning about the world, spreading information, teaching their knowledge to younglings without sparing any of it away and generating more such younglings. A cycle in which someone’s story was someone else’s encouragement, and those who were encouraged would conceive stories of their own.

Everything went around.

There was one cycle here. It was the story of a meager cycle that likely could happen anywhere in the world.

A man picked up a wild beast from a small island to which he had drifted. It was a beautiful beast, but it had been stocked with skills long before coming to his hands. Skills for slaughtering people with ease and seeking submission.

Their first meeting was terrible. His underling had attempted to lay his hands on the beast’s beauty. As if it were a given, the beast had killed his many subordinates, leaving only one person. That was him. Granting him both disaster and salvation at the same time, the beast had sought subservience in regards to the man.

The man fled around the island where all but himself had been murdered, but gave in and accepted the beast. The beast was useful, but also an existence that he could not handle. Be it morning, noon or night, his head was troubled with the beast, his heart unable to calm down.

Essentially, he was a man who did not want to be shackled by anything. After all, he had a past of being forced into submission by his household and parents. He had escaped from his responsibilities and his home, jumping off into the sea. The man, who had been born in a family that bore the name of a flower, had run away and gained freedom.

He yearned for it – for a freedom that no one could steal from him – more than anything. Even if he had to cast away his little brother for it. Therefore, the man had done the same in the beast’s case. The one who mattered most to him was himself. He wanted to break free from that horror. Most likely, he had cut off from himself a child in need of salvation.

Everything went around.

——O God, I want to .

Everything.

A voice that sounded like bells echoed.

“Captain,” it whispered, as if to tickle the man’s ears. “Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

It was evening. A time when people were returning to their homes.

“What would you like to do?”

An orange light shone from the window inlaid with stained glass. With the sunset reflected on the elaborately designed interior decoration, the place itself looked like a single work of art.

“Could it be that, because of the impact earlier, your hearing has...”

It was supposed to be. The place where the person who called out so insistently and the person who intentionally ignored her were in was an art gallery that just recently had its interior and exterior finished.

“As if.”

“I am relieved. Then, I would like to ask if you have a plan.”

In a place they were not supposed to be at, the two who were not supposed to be together were kneeling on the floor in resignation.

“Captain.”

“.............................”

“The civilians are in a predicament.”

“................................”

“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

“............”

“What would you like to do?”

“..................”

“I would like to ask if you have a plan, by any chance.”

“.....................”

“The civilians are in a predicament.”

“........................”

“If I may offer my opinion, firstly, I could act as a decoy—”

“Be quiet, monster. Don’t keep repeating the same thing over and over. Don’t breathe either. I’m thinking right now.”

Dietfried Bougainvillea, a naval captain of Leidenschaftlich, eldest son of the Bougainvillea – a household of patriotic national heroes – and the man who had picked up Violet Evergarden in the past and brought her to this country, was covering his eyes with his hands due to having too much on his plate. The little bit of silence and darkness had brought him relief, but someone’s sobbing, the voice of a man reproaching it and the sound of a person being brutally kicked and tumbling down dragged him back to reality.

He had a severe headache. Whether it was caused by his anxiety or his injury, he had no idea. He put a hand on the back of his head and examined it, but only a bit of blood had come out.

In order to somehow spit such awful mood out of his body, he took deep breaths. He felt that he had become a little better, but the unpleasant sensation returned once he opened his eyes and cast his gaze at the woman next to him. A spoon of discomfort, rejection and fear each was thrown into Dietfried’s emotional vessels, set on fire and boiled up. However, the most prominent feeling was something else.

The woman who had been talking to him so insistently until a moment ago was now quiet just and not letting out a single breath as he had told her. Violet Evergarden.

Dietfried looked fixatedly at his former servant. The woman, whose appearance had transfigured considerably in comparison to when they had first met, bore a radiantly shining cold beauty, which was even more conspicuous under such tense circumstances. She was almost like an ice sculpture, Dietfried thought.

——Even though you used to stink like a wild beast...

She now smelled of nothing but flowers.

——...you turned out just as I’d imagined.

“You’re a siren.”

Silence.

“My little brother destroyed a train station just to keep you alive; you’re a siren through and through. I’m not into you, but my mental stability is wrecked right now, and I’m sensing the harmfulness and influence that your existence brings about in that. You’re unmatched when it comes to breaking things and causing problems.”

Dietfried had once told his brother that the beast could become a siren. He had meant to say so including all sorts of matters. This young woman named Violet was a creature that God had created by mistake and had not been born under a good star. When one was by her side, there were many of them.

“Damn troublemaker.”

Many problems. Even though she had not wished for it, she had been born this way. Under a star that attracted disasters.

——It goes round. All of it.

He ran and ran from her, yet they would end up meeting, thus Dietfried had started to think that it might be some sort of divine revelation at this point. Telling him to face the girl that he had thrown away.

Violet was still, hand on her brooch. He someway guessed that it was given to her by his younger brother. He felt like clicking his tongue. This girl might become the worst-ever wife whose hand his most beloved little brother was going to take.

——We can leave that for later; gotta overthrow this situation first.

Determined to fight this reality, Dietfried then turned his gaze towards the sight that spread out before his eyes. Women, men, elderly people – everyone was crouching on the floor with guns pointed at them regardless of anything. Obviously, the same applied to Dietfried and Violet.

Unexpected situations – situations in which they could not make a false move even if they were on their own, let alone in the presence of so many civilians – were responsible for this. On top of it, Dietfried was also saddled with someone that he had to protect despite not wanting to. Of course he would feel like clicking his tongue at it.

Perhaps they were thought to be lovers, as no one said anything even while they stayed close to each other.

“Hey, did you really stop breathing?”

She did not seem to be in agony, but her figure as she diligently obeyed made Dietfried feel uneasy.

“I was joking; breathe.”

Violet’s blue eyes blinked with a snap.

“Yes.”

And then, she finally let out a breath. Dietfried hated himself for being remotely relieved that she had safely started breathing again, was what he thought.

“Hey, you.”

“Yes.”

“From now on, follow my orders. Don’t act on your own accord.”

“All right.”

“I’m gonna save the civilians. It’s my duty. There’s no helping it, so I’m counting you in that math too... No idea what my little brother would do if he found out I’d let you die. Even if it weren’t on purpose, if anything that could kill you happened under these circumstances, I really have no way of knowing what he’d do. He’d probably hate me.”

“No, Captain, he—”

“Have some self-awareness, Monster. My foolish younger brother blew up a train station to let you live. This fact did turn into a subject of teasing towards Gil for no matter how much time passes from now, but if you think about it on normal terms, it’s out of the ordinary. That’s the way you’ve changed him. Damn witch...”

She was the tool that he had found and that used to exist for his sake. A woman who used to be a dog with no name. An orphan whom he had picked up from a solitary island, brought back with him, attempted to get the most out of yet was unable to, and then threw away.

Asset. Girl soldier. Automatic assassination doll. Witch.

——Even if I don’t want to, for now, I gotta protect this thing and take it home.

“I’ll save you, so you save me too, Witch.”

Fate went around, adding a chance meeting as the best seasoning for a finishing touch. After all, at this very moment, Violet Evergarden and Dietfried Bougainvillea were being attacked by robbers and had weapons thrust at them.

“That’s awfully unpleasant for me, but I’ll take action by considering your life to be the top priority. Not for you. For my little brother.”

Understanding that she had received permission to talk once she had received permission to breathe, Violet gave her own opinion, “No.” She did it directly, without any restraint. “No, that is my job, Captain. Major... Lord Gilbert loves you.”

Dietfried’s eyes blinked. Those green orbs were staring fixatedly at Violet since earlier, enough to seem like they would suck her in. They were green jewels in a different shade from his younger brother’s. Those green gems, enveloped in shock, reflected Violet’s serious gaze.

“I shall guard you, no matter what happens,” Violet declared with resolution, like a knight. “I will obey your orders to the best of my abilities, but if I judge it to be dangerous, I shall take action with your safeguarding as the maximum priority.”

“Hey.”

“I will definitely protect you and bring you to Major safely. Please do not leave my side, Captain.”

“That’s my line,” Dietfried said while nonetheless wanting to kill Violet.

For the exchange between the two to reach this stage, things had first begun when morning visited Leidenschaftlich. This might be going back much too far in time for a clarification, but it all had indeed started since daybreak.

The morning weather was overflowing with sunlight on that day – typical of Leidenschaftlich in early summer. Early rising ladies formed queues in the bakeries that opened at dawn and little birds flew about the shops’ surroundings to receive breadcrumbs. There was a café three stores away from one of the popular bakeries, famous for serving floral teas, its signboard girl preparing to open it. If one went further ahead, there was a bank, and round said bank, there was a main street lined with large-scale shops.

An art gallery arranged to open the next day had been erected on the main street. Its name was Artemisia. It bore the name of its owner, who was an artist.

The gallery Artemisia displayed the works of its proprietor, of course, but it also had works of artists from within and abroad Leidenschaftlich. There were rows of works from unknown young artists that the owner had taken interest in as well, devoted as she was to the cultivation of new talents.

The Artemisia Gallery, which was to become a place where novel forms of Leidenschaftlich’s art would be born, was scheduled to hold a pre-opening party today, attended only by the people concerned. The gallery’s staff had started cleaning its interior and the sidewalk in front of it from morning.

Around noon, a restaurant employee hired for the sake of that day had visited, bringing in wine, snacks and table sets. As for the dishes, there were two types: the ones that had already been prepared and the ones that would be made by borrowing the kitchen of the owner’s residence, which had been built on the gallery’s top floor. Since eating was not the main focus, the preparations were merely enough for the upcoming guests not to feel hungry.

As evening came, the inside of Artemisia began to speed up with haste. If there were anyone in command of such a scenery, they would likely be asserting with a baton: “hurry”, “faster”, “elegantly”.

An envelope closed with a wax seal bearing the establishment’s crest. Customers arrived one after another with the invitation taken from inside of it at hand. For a pre-opening party with a limited number of invitees, there was a large amount of people. The elect few of Artemisia’s employees were in a flurry of activity.

“Bring me a coat” here, “not enough drinks” there, a plate breaking somewhere. “Where’s the owner?”, “Got caught by the guests”. “There’s no one to give us instructions”, “Oh, well” – just like this, things descended into chaos behind the scenes.

Normally, their job was to calmly recommend artistic goods. Therefore, they were unable to hide their bewilderment at handling so many visitors at first. Nevertheless, if one looked at the guests being entertained, how were they? Appreciating the artworks, looking like they were having a blast. Upon seeing this, the employees were able to understand deep down. That “what, so things are the same as usual”. By the time that the customers were completely familiar with the gallery’s interior, the employees were able to show smiles with a little bit of ease.

Among the guests invited to Artemisia, a foreign body completely unrelated to this world was mixed in.

It was a woman. A beautiful one at that. From an appreciative viewpoint, there would be nothing to complain about if she were one of the artworks. She was clad in a ribbon-tie one-piece dress, snow-white as a flower in full bloom on a summer day. Her long, softly curved golden hair extended to her waist. Perhaps she had come straight from work, as she held a heavy-looking trolley bag on one hand. “Click, click,” knocked her cocoa-brown boots against the marble flooring each time she took a step.

She walked while observing every artwork one by one. Idyllic landscape paintings, abstract paintings that looked like silver ink spilled on pure-white paper, oil paintings in which the people seemed as if they would move at any moment. Glassworks and ceramics that one would be very afraid even to look at from nearby. At first, the exhibition was of works from artists renowned within the country, but the small hall of its latter half integrated displays from artists who were still nameless. The woman stopped in front of one such work.

A painting of whimsical fantasy. Was it a winter sea? It depicted various things falling and sinking into dark and cold water. A pocket watch, a feather, a bed, a knife, a white flower and a chair. All were worn-out and had damaged parts. At first glance, one would not know what it was expressing. Only the boy painted in the center seemed to pierce through the viewer.

He was still a teenager and his appearance could also be considered that of a girl. After staring at him for a while, the feeling that he was supposed to be saved would surface. Because the boy had a facial expression that almost looked like he was making eye contact with the viewer as he fell. But this could not come true. He was sinking in the picture. No one on this side could do anything. One would not know what to do with themselves after looking at it – it was that kind of picture.

“Excuse me; I was the one who painted this. Is there anything wrong with this painti...”

Suddenly, a voice called to the woman from behind. A rock thrown into the quiet atmosphere. A low tone that cut through the dimness of the room.

People were mostly heading towards the famous artists, so the woman had been all by herself on that spot until just now. The man who had showed up a bit late was coincidentally the creator of that fantastical painting, and found himself talking to the woman who had stopped in front of his art. That was an extremely natural encounter for a pair. If their positions, circumstances and everything else were different, something might have been born between them. It did not have to be romantic love, just something – something else that “the two of them originally had”.

“Captain Dietfried Bougainvillea.”

The moment the woman turned around, the space resounded with a loud squeak. It actually had not resounded, but at the very least, Dietfried heard the thump of his own heartbeat, which gave his whole body goosebumps. He was enveloped in a strange sensation, as if the blood inside him were flowing backwards. One of the things he had once evaded in his life was standing there.

“What’re you doing, Monster?”

Violet Evergarden.

Before the emerald eyes that Dietfried possessed, of a hue different from his younger brother’s, there was a young female Auto-Memories Doll. The reason why he had not recognized her from the back was likely that her golden hair was slovenly loose.

He had not had a chance to see her after she had become a grown-up ever since the incident during the Flying Letters. Only people who had great amount of interaction with each other would be able to tell such a thing just by looking at someone’s back.

“I was looking at the paintings, Captain.”

Violet was expressionless. However, her hand alone promptly searched for her emerald brooch and squeezed it.

“You, paintings? Can you understand them?”

First, a scornful laugh, and then a head start with a verbal attack. She needed to put up a defense line. After all, this girl was formerly a weapon. An automatic assassination doll.

“I cannot. It is just that... my eyes and legs stopped.”

She was the one and only woman that Dietfried feared. If he had run into anyone else, his emotions would not be so disrupted.

Dietfried was scared. This girl was terrifying.

“I caused you trouble last time.”

He knew the things she had done. He knew whom she had killed. And he also recalled how he used to treat her, telling himself that it was all right.

“By asking about Major.”

Because she was a monster.

——O God, I want to .

These words wandered about in his head. They were words that he had prayed in his childhood to the one that he would meet at some point – probably in his dying moments. Thinking back on it now, it had been a foolish, immature and helpless wish, but he was serious about it at the time.

Looking at this girl made him remember his embarrassing past self.

“I shall see myself out. Captain, please take your time.”

“Hey.”

Violet had decided to retreat from the place, putting it to action. She concluded that this would be a peaceful solution for both sides and that it would secure each other’s survival.

“Hey, wait.”

However, Dietfried still had something that he wanted to say.

At the call of restraint, Violet’s feet halted mid-step. She then gazed at Dietfried. “Why?” her eyes were asking.

Choosing to leave must have been her own way of showing respect. Considering the current and the previous relationship between two of them, it was a sound judgement. Hence, she stared at him presumptuous and mutely.

Even now, it pierced Dietfried. That quiet “why” perforated him.

Despite being the one who had told her to wait, Dietfried lost sight of his next words. He had tons of complaints. Rather, complaints were the only thing that ever came out of his mouth. Most likely, he had never presented any warm words or attitude to her. No, he had at least patted her head when they parted. But what about it? That was all he had done. Which perhaps was the reason why.

——What did you think of that painting?

Just a question like this was exceptionally challenging for him. If it were anyone else, he would surely be able to ask as easily as breathing. He could also boast that he was the one who had painted it. However, only with this woman was it so difficult.

A long silence drifted between the two. A truly long, long silence.

The mood was almost like two beasts had come across each other in the wilderness and were estimating which would attack first. Both were underdeveloped and, not matching their insides, only their appearances were actually full-fledged. Seen from the sidelines, they were a beautiful adult man and woman looking at each other, but the air flowing between them was that of a battlefield.

Dietfried was starting to sweat. As for Violet, even her breathing was becoming shallower.

Violet seemed to be thinking about something. She opened and closed her mouth, repeating it several times. What should she do in that situation? What was best? She was probably unable to decide. This was something that not just Violet but also Dietfried was thinking about, yet the degree of seriousness in behavior was surprisingly higher on Violet’s side.

She would normally not be like this.

He was the person that even Violet Evergarden, who had written so many letters, was at loss as to how to act around. That was the man called Dietfried.

Perhaps her thinking had eventually arrived to a conclusion, Violet left her baggage on the floor and put her hands behind her back. “Feel free to.”

At first, Dietfried had no idea what she was doing. Violet looked like she was offering her body.

“Ha...?”

Without hesitation, almost as if she were a tool.

“I am still. Feel free to.”

“Feel free to feast on my life,” she seemed to say. Her current self overlapped with the beast of the past.

“To do what, is what I’m asking...” Dietfried’s mouth felt sticky, giving him a hard time mustering words out. His head had been occupied mostly with how to mend the blunder that he had exposed to her, so he could not respond to Violet’s surprise attack immediately.

“Do you not remember? I used to do this whenever I had to receive reprimand or punishment.”

He could not. All of the information that had been fluttering about in Dietfried’s head until now disappeared. It vanished.

“You, what the...”

The owner of the blue eyes that stared at Dietfried as if to shoot through him always did unexpected things, tossing him about.

“I did not know how to speak back then, so in order to show that I had no intention to attack you, Captain, I would do this.”

Those eyes.

“No matter what I say, surely... there is no atonement for me. With time, I have come to understand the things I... did. And how much terror I made you go through. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the kindliness of placing me under Lord Gilbert. I wish to pay you back somehow. If you say that it is unnecessary, at the very least, do as you please.”

For whatever reason, when those eyes asked him “why”...

“Be it with fists or with reproach, as much as you want.”

...his chest ached as if it had been stabbed.

“Feel free to.”

If that place were not a quiet art gallery, Dietfried would have yelled furiously at her, without caring about shame or his reputation. He managed to ball his fists hard enough for it to hurt and swallow down his angry voice due to his high level of self-respect.

“I hate that about you...”

This girl always made him aware that she would never act as he expected.

“...to death.”

At the words spoken by Dietfried’s quivering tone, Violet took a step back. Her stance of offering herself did not change, but her instincts were on-guard, wondering if she was not going to be killed by this man. Seeing that, Dietfried sneered at her figure.

“You’re the one who could choke the life out of me anytime,” he seemed to say.

Dietfried suddenly felt the heat that had gone up his head cooling down. Violet had taken a step back. That became the trigger for him to regain his composure. Because he was able to reconfirm that she was but a child in the end. This innocent aspect and action that were much like what a child would show to an adult exerted a great influence on the other party. Dietfried loathed that.

For he, who despised interventions from anyone, had so much aversion to it that it make him want to vomit.

Those who were accustomed to oppression from others would very easily choose to hurt people. She was inwardly frightened of that tendency. Yet albeit frightened, she prioritized others over herself. That creature was like a mass of contradictions.

——Disgusting. Stop. Die. Don’t look at me.

He did not want to get involved with her. But he had a mountain of things to say. However, when it came to whether or not he could properly do it, even if he managed to squeeze them out, they would turn into nothing but abusive language.

There was a large lake between the two of them and all they could do was gaze at the opposite shore, unable to tell how deep it was. Their first meeting was to blame for that. It was the cause of everything.

His underlings had attacked her and she had killed all of them. She then chased and chased after him, making him into her master. Despite there being a hierarchy, Violet was the one who had a grip over his life.

One would understand, after spending time with the girl, that this was a necessity for her. She was always like that, ever since the island only the two of them knew. Whenever anything happened, she would prioritize Dietfried. After all, even as he handed her over to Gilbert, she had not resisted.

If anything could be changed, that was the moment.

The two who never mingled with each other met again countless times in a parallel line. On such occasions, they would become unable to make a move due to shouldering the truth of rejection and of the things they had done, thus running away.

——Gilbert.

What did the person who brought the two together, whom they loved most, thought of that?

“You... I...”

——If I could change for Gilbert...

“Captain...?”

——If I could change, right here and now, for your sake...

Would it be easier for him to breathe?

Just as Dietfried was about to make a bitter decision...

“GYAAAAAAAAAH—AAAAAAH—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

...an incident occurred.

It was clearly not a hasty crime. The scream of Artemisia, the owner, echoed, and by the time that Dietfried and Violet had bolted from the quiet hall where there was just the two of them, robbers were already thrusting their weapons mostly at vulnerable women and children, having them on their knees. The course of action was far too swift.

Wide-eyed, Violet swung back her trolley bag and was about to throw it at them, yet Dietfried stopped her.

“Are you stupid?! Those aren’t all adults that can run...!”

Among the hostages, there was also a little girl held under someone’s arms, looking like she did not understand the situation.

“I will save them as fast as possible and take control of the rest.”

“They’ve got guns; what’re you gonna do if they hit someone else with a warning shot?! There’s the other artworks too... This ain’t a stage for a tactless bastard like you to brawl! Just stay put for now!”

“But, Captain—”

“Stay put!”

While the two were trying to push past each other, the robbers took notice of them.

In the main hall, perhaps in order to bind people up through fear, the men were being beaten without exception, being put on their knees over the floor. Seeing that, the women naturally sat down, trembling, and began to cry.

While screams were resounding like music, one of the robbers headed towards the duo. “So there were still weeds growing here?” was the look in his eyes as he swung his firearm emotionlessly.

Dietfried would have managed to avoid it. He had done it several times until now. He could do it as easily as floating on water. If he could catch the man’s gun with one hand and pulled it just like that, he was able to picture the opponent falling over as a reaction. Once he stole the gun, he could shoot each member of the robber gang one by one in the head. And then, there would be a gunfight. He would have done that if he were alone. Yes, if he were alone.

——Why now of all times?

There was nothing more humiliating than a punch that one had to resign oneself into receiving. But he had things he had to protect above his own dignity. Thus, he accepted the attack without dodging. If he were to start a scuffle amidst the current situation, he did not think that all of the people who had become hostages would remain unharmed. He would aim for a chance. That was what he should do. He made such decision not only for his own welfare but also for that of other people.

However, the automatic assassination doll made a completely different one. When her eyes glinted like that, she quite literally moved on automatic. She came forward to take his place. In that instant, the face of Dietfried’s younger brother was the only thing crossing his mind.

——Gil.

It was almost as if he had readied himself to do it. That was how quickly his arm reached out. He forcefully embraced Violet and turned his back towards the robber. A violent hit struck him from head to back. He could hear Violet’s breath quietly catching while holding her in his arms.

And such was how they had arrived to the present.

Dietfried did not think that his decision to suppress Violet was a mistake. He was aware that she was the woman who had fought by herself against terrorists inside an exploding train, but it would be a problem if she did something of the sort in the Artemisia Gallery.

Right now, he felt like a pet owner containing the rampage of his mad dog.

As for the mad dog herself, she had grown quiet ever since Dietfried had been hit, as if her functions were gone. Dietfried had pushed away the hands that had attempted to give him first aid. Any false moves and the robbers might beat him again.

She, who always took upon herself to protect, wound up being protected. On top of that, she had let the other be injured. This must have caused her to fall into despondency, enough to result in service outage. However, with time, she had rebooted and was rousing herself up once more to get through this situation.

“I understand that I should refrain from the use of force in an art gallery. But should we not place human lives above the artworks?”

——Whose fault do you think it is that I got hit on the back of my head?

Because she was saying the most obvious thing with the most serious face, Dietfried grabbed the collar where her brooch resided, taking the brooch along, without thinking. The thread that fastened the ribbon-tie dress’s button let out a screech. It was not the kind of deed that a gentleman would do to a lady. But Dietfried did not loosen the strength that he put into his grip.

“You... Do you still need disciplining from me?” he said, voice filled with rage, close enough for their faces to touch. “Think of this as a place that can hardly compare to any other... This thing’s pretty important for you, isn’t it?”

After blinking with a snap, she opened her mouth once, then closed it.

Once Dietfried’s hand let go of her, she grasped the brooch as if to protect it. She was more concerned about the brooch than the crumpled bust of her dress. She stroked it over and over, making sure that it had not been damaged.

Finally, she whispered in a dazed state, “I understand.”

“As if an idiot could,” Dietfried said with a snort, yet the other was a poker-faced Auto-Memories Doll. No matter how much he hurt her, it would have no effect. That was what Dietfried had thought.

“I understood completely. I will avoid combat here as much as possible.” Alas, her voice sounded a little faint.

Dietfried stared at Violet from the corners of his eyes. The brooch was indeed important to her. She was holding it down with both hands. She did not want anyone to touch it – that was what she was indicating. The two of them were speaking in an awfully low tone, but her timbre just now was as thin as the cry of a mosquito.

Dietfried said with a somewhat softer voice, “Good that you get it. I’m indebted to the owner of this gallery. I’m gonna choose the best I can for her sake too.”

“All right.”

“Human lives are the priority, of course. But we’re not gonna fight in a stupid way.”

Like a child, Violet nodded repeatedly.

“You’ve only ever been doing body guarding, murders and military action, and that’s why you don’t understand. In the sea... In fleet battles, we fight to protect. Our way of thinking is different from those who fight to conquer.”

“To protect...”

“If you can’t put brakes on them at sea, the enemies go to land. The reason why Leidenschaftlich is called a military nation ain’t just the army’s achievement. I’ve... never taught you how to fight at sea, huh... For now, forget the method of destroying and taking control of everything. Learn from my ways.”

“Understood.”

Dietfried was inwardly surprised at the obedient reply. Rather, even more than this, he was surprised that he and the “beast” were able to have mutual comprehension.

When she was in his hands, this beautiful Auto-Memories Doll was a “wild beast” that did not know how to speak, as well as a tool. An incontrollable beast, to boot.

“Still, if that is how it is, please do not forget that your wellbeing is my top priority all the more. I shall fight to protect you, Captain. Please do not think of protecting me for Lord Gilbert’s sake. If necessity arises, I will not might if you use me as a shield. I can be replaced, but there is no substitute for you.”

If, at that time...

“This is also linked to protecting Lord Gilbert.”

...in that place...

“Bye, Monster. This guy’s your next master.”

...he had educated and guided her instead of letting her go, would she have grown up the same way?

“Shut up.”

Would she have thought like that?

“Shut up, Monster.”

He had never even thought about it.

Another side of him immediately answered “no” to the self-questioning. Surely, a Violet Evergarden raised by Dietfried Bougainvillea would not have turned out like this. He might have at least taught her how to talk. They would have trouble communicating otherwise. He would have probably given her clothes and personal belongings for daily life. Bringing her along when walking around would look bad for him.

However, when it came to whether or not he would have bestowed this girl with something that would be enveloped in her hands with utmost zeal...

——I see; so it’s the same color as Gilbert’s eyes. That brooch.

...he would undeniably have not.

——Come to think of it, she was always following me around from behind ‘cause she hated being alone.

If there was anything he could have done for her, it was to at least fill up a coffin with flowers and leave it available for her. He did not intend for anything to happen, but he might have done that much. After all, if Violet had stayed beside Dietfried Bougainvillea, she would have surely died before him, for his sake.

“We’re gonna do an act.”

——Aah, Gilbert.

“An act?”

——I’m always late to realize how great you are.

“That’s right. You’re the one who suggested it, so I’m gonna make you into a decoy.”

——You’ve made that filthy beast into this.

“Understood.”

——You were able to change her like this.

“First, take this... It’s late for that, but... you got any questions about a joint struggle with me?”

As Dietfried asked, Violet responded with her neck tilted, “Why...? I do not.”

For whatever reason, his former weapon would show scraps of emotion only at times like these. Just innocently, unaware that it was merciless of her.

“Please use me correctly, Captain.” She smiled.

Why had robbers attacked the Artemisia Gallery?

There was a certain amount of history that led to such violence unfolding amidst everyday life. Firstly, it would be preferable to start with the time when a turning point happened in the life of the robbery’s main offender, but that would be rewinding too far. On to a brief explanation.

This case was a crime committed by a habitual criminal.

There were various reasons for people to rob, yet the advantage was but one. Earning compensation within a short period. Good citizens would be paid for their work, but thieves did not share this mentality. People received rewards through serving others. In order to gather a large sum, a long time and effort were necessary. Thieves abdicated from this. To achieve success, no matter in what land, a person had to be equipped with skills as a rule of thumb.

If one could stop after doing it once, why did they do it countless times? There were people here and there who thought this about criminals. It was because, if they had succeeded once, they could do it again. They were instantly able to attain things that they would have to spend a long time out of their lives to earn. This was the arrival of an opportunity to do that.

Once one got used to it, identifying opportunities was surprisingly easy.

Supposing that there was someone who excelled at predicting people’s thoughts. The other person’s personality would be determined by the movements of their eyes, the way they breathed, their voice tone, the relationships of power in their background, their social position and other such things, so one would be able to deduce what kind of conduct should be taken in order to derive the “correct answer”. It seemed like magic at first glance, but it was no more than the result of someone continuously keeping watch on another person for many years.

Since this was a strategy against individual matches, the robbers needed a slightly better ability to grasp the environment. As they were walking around the city, they incidentally found out that a new gallery was going to open. The opening date was also announced. It appeared that there would be an event only for those concerned on the day before.

No matter the establishment, dealing flawlessly with the inauguration of a new shop was difficult. Even if there were people in it who already had experience working in a gallery, but the use of their abilities to have control over such a situation and proceed with it smoothly was different. Employees would be in quite a panic on the day. If it was a members-only celebration day, there was no mistaking that the original state of the security that should be guarding the gallery would be insufficient.

And so, the robbers had thought, “Aah, if you poke this place, it’ll surely crumble down.”

They did not have any grudges in particular. They had simply judged that they could do it, thus undergoing the assault. The truth was merely that the Artemisia Gallery had been unlucky.

How many hardships the owner had gone through until she was able to open the gallery, had she lived her life bowing her head to other people? How many artists were looking forward to seeing their work exhibited in the gallery? The feelings of such people could be trampled miserably at times.

Not that many people paid any mind to weeds when walking. That was all. Except, this time, the Artemisia Gallery had been lucky about just one thing.

“No good... Hum, excuse me...! She suddenly...!”

A naval captain who loved art...

“Ugh...”

...and the woman who used to be called Leidenschaftlich’s War Maiden were amongst the hostages.

The man who had caused a commotion and pleaded to one of the robbers in a panic raised both of his hands as a display of no resistance. He was a long-haired a man. His slightly curvy dark hair went past his shoulders. Right next to him was a woman holding her stomach and trembling.

“What?”

A few armed men gathered around them.

“It seems her stomach hurts.”

“Just a stomach ache? Leave it alone.”

“You’re telling us to let her go to the bathroom? We still gotta watch these people. Besides, she’s a woman. If someone takes her to the toilet... Well, how much stuff did we get?”

“We’ve piled most of the paintings in the carrier, but there’s still the ornaments. It’s still gonna take a while.”

The robbers had a choice. The option to either silently let her suffer or kindly take her to the restroom. Beating only the men was likely one of their policies. They did not hesitate to make use of violence when needed, but when it was not, it was best to have as least animosity as possible in order to get through with things unobtrusively and quickly take the treasure. It seemed gentlemanly but was a self-righteous thinking.

“What do we do? The Head is...”

“The Head got in the car first. As if we can ask him stuff like this every single time it happens.”

“Head” probably referred to the member worthy of being their chief.

As the quiet exchanges continued in front of the agonizing woman, she finally lay down on the floor while still holding onto her stomach. The man who had appealed about her bad condition shook her shoulders, telling her to “hang in there”.

As if she had received a signal, the woman raised her face slowly. Her gemstone-like blue eyes were visible through the gaps between her disheveled golden hair. She was covering her mouth, perhaps trying not to vomit. Even so, it was easy to tell that the woman’s looks were remarkably good.

“It’s gonna take a while, huh. Besides, we’re gonna need the women later.”

Her eyes locked with one of robber’s as though sucking him in. One would not understand the destructive power that having this woman look up at them from their feet with her eyes wet had, unless they witnessed it themselves.

“Then, I guess it’s okay.”

From the vulgar smile of the man who had said so, one could presume what his intentions were. As the woman was covering her mouth, the robber instructed her to stand up, pointing his gun at her, and then took her to the restroom.

After that, the woman and the robber did not return for a while. Since there were no other people who mustered out the courage to say that they wanted to use the toilet, the period of their absence passed as if it were natural. In the meantime, the gallery’s exhibits were being carried one after another to cars with roof racks parked outside the establishment. The robbers were dressed as employees who worked with the transportation of goods, so even those walking down the street did not think there was anything strange about that work scene.

Once they had finished relocating most of the merchandises, one of the cars left the gallery. The other one that remained parked was meant for the getaway of those who were keeping watch. With the artworks that had been collected for the sake of this day snatched away down to the last one, the gallery was bare. The owner, Artemisia, had all the while been suppressing her cries and shedding tears.

Apparently, those thieves were quite the habitual criminals. They had threatened everyone with armed force upon entering the establishment, robbing people of any resistance, but after that, as long as everyone stayed still, they would do nothing but coldly keep control of the hostages, not even raising their voices. If people did as told, they would not lose their lives. That hope made the hostages obedient. Even though they were robbers, this seamless way of dealing with people was like that of artisans. They did not think of humans as humans.

“Excuse me; I just... want to lend her a handkerchief. That’s all. The sleeves of her clothes are already soaked with tears. Can’t you allow just this much?”

Hearing a voice from the back, Artemisia turned around. It came from one of the artists that she had invited over for today, whom she had known for quite some time. She was shaken by a sense of guilt that she had done something terrible to him as well.

Their first meeting had started at a certain recreational facility, when she peeked from behind while he was painting a landscape. She did not know his occupation, but they kept in touch and she had him show her his art. It seemed he had always been drawing as a hobby. He told her that even most of the people who were close to him did not know he painted, and that he had truly only been doing it for himself.

The busy man had weaved his way through spare time and the work he brought had swayed Artemisia’s senses. At first, he had hesitated at her request to put it on display, but then smiled like a boy and gave her his ready consent, looking happy.

——Aah, God. Please give it back. Please give that fun time back to everyone.

Artemisia was upset and vexed at the fact that the artworks were being stolen, but more than anything, it felt like the regret towards everyone who had been looking forward to this day would split her chest open.

“Hey, he told you to use this.”

He had lent a handkerchief to Artemisia through one of the robbers. Artemisia wiped her tears and managed to lock eyes with him somehow. She then mouthed a “thank you” to him without letting out her voice.

The man smiled. But it was not the smile that Artemisia knew. He was different when he talked about art. She had shivers before she could think. His eyes were not smiling.

“ .”

The man said something to Artemisia. As he had only moved his lips, Artemisia could not tell whether she had been able to read what he tried to convey. She could not, but most likely, he had said:

“It’ll be over soon.”

Eventually, the robbers started to create an atmosphere of evacuation at last.

“Let’s take one person with us until we leave the harbor. Can be a woman or kid. Which do we choose?”

“Woman it is.”

“That guy was playing around with the woman we were planning to use for that, wasn’t he? What happened to him?”

Assuming that they would finally be freed, the hostages started fidgeting. They had faced a disaster and the artworks that they had dedicated their lives to making had been stolen. This joyful day had been repainted into despair. But they were alive. That was the one and only bright side of today. They would not be able to maintain their rationality unless they comforted themselves with that. At any rate, they wanted to hurry and be liberated.

Amongst them, there was a man who merely observed the robbers’ movements in silence all the while. It was the man who had been caring for a woman that had a stomachache, looking worried. Once the woman had been taken to the restroom, he became expressionless, as if he had lost interest in everything. Occasionally, there were moments when he even yawned in secret, as if he had grown sleepy.

“Go call him. We could use that woman as hostage. She’s young, so she can come back walking if we throw her away on the street.”

Hearing these words, the man let out his voice and laughed. By the looks of it, he had not intended to laugh, but wound up doing so. He put a hand to his mouth, but then shrugged and let the robbers see it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make fun of you. But trying to rape that thing, huh? No matter how many lives you have, it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Hey, what’s with you...? Got a complaint or something...?”

The man kept laughing, as though to say that the robbers’ threatening figures were even more comical. With her eyes, the owner, Artemisia, begged the man provoking the robbers to restrain himself, for she could not afford to lose not only the artworks that she had collected but also a guest that she had invited, yet the man closed one eye at that and replied, “Artemisia, it’s okay.”

No one in this place knew his social status. Or his history.

In the past, Dietfried Bougainvillea used to wield a weapon that could become the world’s best. It was now away from his grasp, but it was not as if their master-servant connection had been completely severed. The beast had a high level of loyalty, so although they had met by chance after a long time, her heart recognized it. That he was the one she had been following in the past – someone worth being served by her. Therefore, the beast would attend him to exhaustion.

Only a limited number of people could handle the beast. The feeling that she had returned to his hands for now was somewhat strange.

“She runs quick.”

“Ha?”

“That’s why it’s the end for you guys. My bad.”

“Hey, shut this dude up.”

As Dietfried had suddenly started talking, the robbers naturally had a doubtful reaction.

“She’s as fast as a deer. And this is the city’s main street, so there are hotels nearby.”

“So, what’re you saying?”

“I left my bodyguards behind to come here today. They’re probably drinking at their room’s bar. There’re also guys among them who know that thing from the time when she was still by my side. I left my hair tie with her, so she should be able to convince them with that. I could predict that you’d take the things you stole to the port. It’s pretty difficult to get away from pursuers on land when you make such a mess in the center of this city. It’s harder to be tracked using the sea route than the land route, right? But the sea route doesn’t work against me. It looks like one vehicle left a while ago, but it’s over by the point they reach the port. You’ll probably go outside now, but if you’re thinking about taking someone along as a hostage, you’d better drop it. Many of my subordinates are hot-blooded. If you rouse them up like that, they’ll probably get too excited. If that happens, you’re the ones who’ll be getting the short end of the stick. No matter how many dead bodies fall down, we can deal with it all we want in the aftermath. We’ll need to get the stories straight, but today’s hostages will surely choose to cooperate with me. Having people trample on the proof of a life that you’ve lived with all your might is painful for anyone.”

The eloquent man did not run out of breath even when speaking nonstop in such a situation. However, this majestic aspect of him was reflected in others’ eyes as dreadful and similar to madness.

The robbers abruptly realized that all the hostages were looking far behind them. They felt that there was something behind them. It was like a ghost, hiding even its flame of life, simply waiting for the orders of its lord.

Outside the windows of the gallery, they could hear the sounds of someone fighting from around the area where the car was parked. Simultaneously, they could hear a faint breathing just behind them.

The respiration of a woman who was out of breath from running loomed over their ears.

“Do it, Violet.” Dietfried raised his thumb and made a swift throat-cutting gesture.

While watching his doll render the robbers unconscious with a strength as overwhelming as a monster eating people, Dietfried reminisced to the past.

——Everything goes around.

He recalled the time when the two of them were stuck in that isolated island.

The beast had been scared when the rescue fleet arrived. So had Dietfried. He would not be able to bear it if more of his comrades were murdered. Hence, he had taken the beast’s hand and guided her to the outside world. In his perception, it was the same as taking the reins.

There were no reins anymore now. No need for him to pull her by the hand when walking, either. There was nothing between them.

Not love, passion, attachment, desire, anything.

“Captain.”

There was nothing, but one thing was for certain.

“Captain Bougainvillea.”

If he called for her, this Auto-Memories Doll would most likely go to the ends of the world to save him. That was her nature.

“I have just returned. Are you unharmed?”

At that moment, the beast was well aware that he had called her name for the very first time. Her eyes were crinkling.

“Yeah.”

Just this much compensation was enough to make the beast smile.

After a little while passed, Leidenschaftlich was embraced by the gentleness of the night.

Summer constellations were decorating the jet-black sky. Just as sunny as it was during daytime, the night sky was twinkling so brightly this evening that it could be called a banquet of stars. The day was about to end in Leidenschaftlich. Today was filled with chaos ever since morning.

While being observed by gathered-up onlookers, the arrest drama that had unfolded in front of the Artemisia Gallery was already coming to a conclusion, its many procedures and processing passed over to the military police. Seeing the stolen artworks safely re-delivered to Artemisia, Dietfried took a breather. His gaze then fleetingly drifted to the side. A dirtied ceramic doll was standing there. A woman beautiful enough to look like such, who shone amidst the night, was standing there. He had to say something to her. As one would expect, he should do that at least now. But he could not think of anything.

——“You did well”. “That wasn’t too bad”. “Good work”. “I commend you”... Which one?

Inside his head, words were being conceived and then disappearing. Just like the dreams that the sleeping children all around Leidenschaftlich were surely seeing right now. They were born and then vanished.

At last, he attempted to open his mouth, “Aren’t you cold?”

“It is summer, after all.”

And ended up talking to her like a man who was unused to inviting women out.

Violet Evergarden, who had been fighting reasonably and in order to protect, was still by Dietfried’s side. It was fitting to say that she had been today’s most meritorious person. The one who had come up with the idea of the arrest operation was Dietfried, but the one who had done all the work for it was Violet.

First, she had put up the woman-with-a-stomachache act and gone with one of the robbers to the restroom. She had then quietly strangled the neck of the man who had reached a hand to her shoulder with her mechanical prosthetic arms, making him pass out.

She had broken out and escaped through the restroom’s window. Rather than going to the military police, she had gone to the hotel that Dietfried instructed her to and notified the naval soldiers, who were enjoying cigarettes and drinks in a room on the top floor, of the circumstances. One of the soldiers, who happened to know her, had been frightened at first, but upon seeing that she had been entrusted with Dietfried’s ribbon, his facial expression changed and he contacted the military police, then informed the port’s security to reinforce their inspections.

Without waiting for them to get ready, she had immediately run back to the Artemisia Gallery and infiltrated it through the same route. A few of the robbers, who had the bad luck of spotting her, fell to the ground with one kick or punch to the abdomen, and so, she had finally returned. As Violet stood behind the remaining robbers while catching her breath, the hostages stared as if she were their safety, but Dietfried was sneering as he looked at her.

Just as ordered, she had saved Dietfried without damaging a single artwork.

“About what happened...”

“It will probably be best not to tell Lord Gilbert. He would worry.”

Upon seeing the last artwork be brought in, Violet took the trolley bag that lay by her feet. She likely intended to go home by herself.

After making her do so much, something similar to guilt was now sprouting within Dietfried. He wound up acknowledging that she, too, was important to someone. That was what he thought after the battle, when he saw Violet stroking her emerald brooch as if to confirm that it was there.

Even though she used to be a wild beast whom no one would mourn if she died.

——Aah, that’s an excuse. It’ll be nothing but an excuse. If so, then I don’t wanna say it.

Back then, when she was by Dietfried’s side, every single day was filled with madness on all accounts. They used to roam around battlefields, fighting from dawn to dusk, growing too accustomed to violence. The war then ended, peace had returned, and he realized that an era in which he could even make art was arriving. That those times were abnormal and the way he felt now was the default.

“I’ll take you home.”

“No need. Your escorts must be waiting, so please, feel free to take your leave, Captain.”

“It’s fine; just this time. I’ll take you home.”

“No need.”

“I’ll take you. Listen up, this is an order.”

“I cannot accept your command.”

“You little... You were taking action like I instructed you to just a while ago.”

“Because it was a state of emergency... Besides, Captain Dietfried, it would be reasonable if I were to take you home, but the opposite is illogical.”

“What’re you talking about? You’re a woman, aren’t you?”

“A woman”. Finding himself asserting this with his own mouth, Dietfried regretted it even more.

The corner of Violet’s lips had a cut and blood was coming out of it. Her ribbon-tie dress was drenched in sweat. Even those who did not sweat much would be like this after such a huge scuffle during summertime.

“I’m calling a carriage. It’s all right; just wait right there. I’ll see you off until you get inside the Evergarden house. And then it’s goodbye. We’ll never see each other again. No matter what you and Gil become, we’ll never see each other again.”

What he had done today to this woman, who had become fully able to accept someone’s love, was not something that a son of the Bougainvillea should ever do to a lady.

After they had hopped into the carriage, a moment of silence went on for a while.

——Is it okay for her to keep such an open secret even though those two are a couple?

Dietfried found himself accidentally concerned about his younger brother’s love life. After all, this situation might be a betrayal to his dearest brother. Gilbert had completely forgiven Dietfried. For pushing the headship succession onto him. For not having any consideration for their family. For forcing an indescribable wild beast onto him. He had forgiven everything.

Thinking back, the only time that he attempted to push Dietfried away, saying he would not forgive him, had been when Dietfried offered Violet to him. He had called it “human trafficking”. Told Dietfried not to be violent with a child.

Most likely, those two were each other’s only exception from the very beginning. There was probably no pardoning what Dietfried had done to Violet today. Gilbert would forgive most things. Save for matters related to the one and only thing that was most important to him. Being hated by a loved one. This could cast a shadow over anyone’s heart, regardless of how old they were.

“It is all right.” The voice that cut through the silence was thrown at him as if to soothe him down. The words sounded almost as if she had perceived Dietfried’s uneasiness. “If, by any chance... word ends up reaching him through someone else about this case, I will definitely defend you, Captain Dietfried.”

“‘Defend’, you say?”

“To tell the truth, I often get involved in large-scale incidents without Major knowing. But I return without fail. To Leidenschaftlich. I will return today as well. Therefore, we are all right.”

“What do you do out there?”

“We were separated for much too long. Therefore, we have many moments that the other does not know about in the first place. Perhaps even now, too. I have work to do and so does he. We have limited time to see each other. However, I will definitely always return to Major. He knows this as well. Even when we are apart, that person is the only one who occupies my mind. I am not sure if I convey it to him properly, but that is how it is.”

Her statements were something that would normally make him burst into laughter, but Dietfried was unable to do so.

——When did you become like that?

Dietfried hated Violet. Several factors had induced his emotions to it.

——Now you can correspond to someone’s love.

He saw himself overlap with her. Her subservience to adults and the way that she herself wanted it disgusted him. He despised the wild beast that did not yearn for freedom. Despised the fact that she had been trained by someone to be this way. Despised everything. To begin with, Dietfried did not have many things that he liked.

Even the number of people who could become kind had a limit.

The truth was that, even if he wanted to be kind, it was no longer possible. He had prayed to God for it countless times in the past. However, unable to achieve this, a man named Dietfried Bougainvillea existed.

——O God, I want to, he begged a certain Someone in his mind for the first in a long time. Perhaps since his childhood.

Still, this sort of being did not give any reply to calls. Even now, he had no idea if his plea had reached Him. It was certainly impossible. His and Violet’s stars were in a position that would not radically change.

Nevertheless, for some reason, he had the overwhelming desire to ask someone for forgiveness today.

——I wanna go back.

Not even he knew where to.

——Hurry and be over, this day, today and the time I have to spend with her.

He was not annoyed.

——O God, I want to...

But painfully miserable.

“Captain.”

The carriage ran amongst trees dyed in the darkness of the night. A cool voice echoed amidst them.

Violet was looking at the scenery outside. She was observing the moon, which chased after them, no matter how far, far apart they were.

The moon was something that would continue to exist forever. Unlike stories. Regardless of whether Dietfried concerned himself with it, everything about his story would come to a closing one day as well. Demise would arrive even to the things that he did not wish to ever be over. Even the feelings he had now would end.

“How was I today?”

“What?”

“Did my work earn your satisfaction today?”

Dietfried could not read the intentions behind Violet’s question at all. She was someone whose emotions he could not read in the first place, but it was even harder to understand the meaning of that sentence.

“What do you want to say?”

Silence.

“Hey, just say it straight. Don’t be dodgy with me.”

“All right,” the cool voice entered his ears once more. Such coldness resembled the night, but it never left his ears, easy as it was to catch.

Violet turned her neck and cast her gaze at him. Slowly, blue and green eyes blended with each other.

“I...”

Bathed in moonlight, she was simply, purely beautiful, enough to take Dietfried’s breath away.

“When I was with you, Lord Dietfried, my work was never satisfactory. Now that I became an adult, have I finally been able to repay my debt... with my work?”

“What d’you mean by ‘debt’?”

His voice was hoarse. He suddenly felt as if this icy woman had robbed his entire body of its heat. The inside of his mouth was extremely dry.

“I mean everything. It all started when you brought me from that island. I am the way I am now because you entrusted me to Ma... to Lord Gilbert.”

“If you’d stayed with me, probably nothing good would’ve happened.”

“How would I be if I had continued to serve you?”

These words became a bullet and pierced Dietfried’s heart. He felt as if his breathing would stop at the unexpected question. Things had been like that since the distant past. Dietfried would reconfirm time and time again that she was a woman who could have become a lethal weapon for him.

“So you also imagine a hypothesis... of ‘what if’,” her exquisitely cold voice rang within the darkness. Upon being asked, “You too?”, Violet nodded.

That was his line, Dietfried thought, but Violet then sent his gemstone eyes a dream-like gaze. His existence might be devoid of realism to her.

Violet began to whisper. If only she had disobeyed that order back then. If only she had rushed to him a step faster at that time.

“Back then, if”. “Back then, if”. “Back then, if”.

She could not bring myself not to think that, if only she had had this extra step, he would not have lost that emerald eye.

“Besides, I wonder... if I had managed to protect him back then...”

She had to let go of her most beloved lord’s hand and was entrusted to someone else as if she had been thrown away.

“...I would not have had to spend that time away from Major.”

Thinking back, she had always been abandoned and then picked up by somebody. She should have been used to it. That was the star she had been born under.

She was originally a foreign body to this world and was supposed to have been eliminated. Her destiny had also flowed in this way. The reason why Violet had rebelled against her sectioned path, despite having been tamely submitting herself to it, was that the other was special.

——I also threw her away.

He had thrown his home away. Thrown away his little brother, who cried in protest. And thrown away this beast.

“I also wonder what would have happened if you had not left me with Major.”

This woman.

“But all of these are akin to dreams, crossing my mind and fading away. After passing through countless ‘if’s, I...”

He had pushed this woman onto his brother and forsaken her. Looking at her made him sick. He was also scared of her. Most importantly, he would have stopped being himself. This terrified him.

“And now, I have become an Auto-Memories Doll and am spending a night with you.”

This woman possessed an element that transmuted people.

“Y’know, you’ll be alone one day. You’re the one who’s got the longer lifespan, aren’t you?”

Violet closed her eyes at those words. If she had pictured numerous “if”s, this would obviously come to mind as well.

“I do not know.”

“If that happens, what’re you gonna do?”

“I do not know. But are you not the same as me when it comes to this? You love him, right?”

“I’m... I’m the older one. I’ll be gone sooner.”

“No one knows about that. But... if, one day... I do become alone... if I am left living by myself... my order will still be valid. I will probably live on.”

If she ended up living by herself, this supposition was the cruelest of things to the beast. Just what did he want to do by making her say this now?

Thinking back, ever since they had first met, he had not known how to deal with her. Should he have protected her? Killed her? Protected? Killed? Or perhaps...

“That is why I write letters every day. Even if they do not reach him, I write letters to Major every single day.”

Silence.

“Captain, what will you do?”

“Me, huh? I... let’s see. Paint, I guess.”

“A painting or Major?”

“That’s right.”

“May I go see it?”

To Dietfried Bougainvillea, this wild beast was both a woman and a monster from the very beginning. She was now as far-off as a dream.

“You’re the only one of my relatives who knows I paint. Do whatever you want.”

——O God, I want to be a good person.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #veedit #dietfried bougainvillea #kyoani #kyoto animation #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #my translation

214 notes · View notes

loquaciousquark · 4 years

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E113 (Oct. 27, 2020)

Good evening and good night, lovely people of the world! We’re on the internet and ready to go. Tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham and Sam Riegel. This will be calm, controlled, and sane, I can feel it. Brian points out it’s been seven months since either of them were on Talks. Oof. (Sam asks if it’s been going the whole time without him. Bigger oof.) Travis keeps sneaking bites out of an acai bowl or something and tries to look sneaky about it, and I laugh every time because he’s just...so big. He’s such a big person.

(Brian is wearing a lobstrosity shirt. He and Travis talk about Dark Tower for a bit; then Sam tries to get into the conversation: “Is that the thing from It?” Brian: “Is what the thing from It?” Sam: “Is that lobster the clown from It? I’m not very literate. Is that a Langolier? Is that a Shawshank?”)

Announcements: none! Maybe they just forgot. We’ve been talking about Sam’s spooky skeleton decorations for like five minutes. Brian suggests taking them to Travis’s house. Travis: “That’s the fastest way to get to the smell of burning plastic.” Brian: “Speaking of your girlfriend...”

On Avantika: Fjord wouldn’t call it a relationship as much as a casual sexual interaction. Not official! Super not official!!

The first sea voyage wasn’t great for Fjord, but he tried to be thoughtful about preparing for this one before they left: praying, kneeling at the bow of the ship, etc. He’s a little disappointed the Wildmother didn’t even throw him a “yo, fam” heads up.

They weren’t sure how to resolve the conflict at first, since Avantika went for Fjord rather than the crystal. No one expected it to get exposed in that way. Travis thought the necklace was a pocket dimension and was alarmed to learn it wasn’t. Travis wants it destroyed along with the third gateway, so until they are he won’t rest easy.

Everyone enjoyed watching them all fail on the battlefield again. (Sam: “You used [Counterspell] so effectively!”) Travis thought he’d said Thunder Step, which would imply Avantika was running, rather than Thunder Wave. Sam says it’s fine since none of them have that spell and he wouldn’t know it anyway.

It’s very difficult for Veth to find reasons to stay with the M9. She loves the adventures and making a difference, but she also wants to come home and have weekends and have a husband and life. “She’s a career girl!” He’s very excited about the possibilities of Caleb’s transportation effectively creating an easy commute for her. He also, as a player, doesn’t want to be the person who’s always leaving the party. “My characters wanna roam!”

Travis was fully tilted that Avantika might have gotten away right before the break. He doesn’t think he could have focused on Vess DeRogna’s task knowing Avantika had gotten away; he was seriously working out how Fjord would leave the party to go make a last stand at the third gate if she’d escaped.

Sam looooves how Matt plays Yeza, but it honestly makes him feel a little worse at how encouraging he is for Veth to chase her dreams. “He’s always like - go shine! Go blossom!” He wants to have the conversation about Yeza feeling a little ignored. It’s fun to share the tales of adventures with Luc & Yeza.

Travis says there’s no way it’s Molly--it’s all Lucien. They don’t know if it was a resurrection, if he’s undead, possessed, etc. Everyone--everyone--rags on Taliesin’s accent work. Brian surreptitiously claims Ashly was brought on to relieve him of the burden of the accent. Poor Ashly, ha!

Initially, Travis landed on the Oath of the Ancients, but it had more nature & pacifism in it than he felt fit Fjord very well. Many of them also had a focus on good & lawfulness, which also didn’t feel quite right; he also wasn’t that vengeful for some of the others. He & Matt got together and discussed options. Matt asked what Travis liked about Fjord; Fjord’s love for the ocean was a huge part of it, since Travis himself also loves the ocean & scuba diving, and so Matt created a custom oath for him. Travis does not plan to post its details, but he thinks Matt will at some point.

Cosplay of the Week! a lovely Scanlan by Air Bubbles Cosplay! Sam tells us the “canon” Scanlan cosplay was actually borrowed hodgepodge, and the boots were falling off all day.

It was really cool to see how Yeza & Luc have made a home in Nicodranas. Felderwin was okay, but kind of your basic D&D fishing village, and she likes the Nicodranas is much better. She’s confident & comfortable knowing her family is safe and sound.

Why is Fjord so interested in finding Sabian? To him, post-orphanage, his time with Vandren was the best of his life & the most love he’d ever received, because he mattered & had worth. It was taken by someone he’d known basically his whole life, so Fjord is not going to let that go. “That fuckin’ bill needs to be paid, my friend.”

Sam acknowledges that he should NOT have looked at his phone in re: the Vilya reveal, but it was pretty surprising! He can’t believe none of them recognized it! Travis points out the M9 had never met, heard of, or known anything about Vilya, so it’s not that surprising. Brian points out Matt has also done a really good job keeping the two campaigns separate, so any references were tasteful. Sam marvels that it was so well done: it was tasteful, had emotional and story impact... “That Matt. He’s getting better!”

Liam texted Sam back something like “oh SHIT.”

Knowing Veth had a chance to help someone else return to her child made Veth feel almost karmically forgiven for being away from her kid, but it also made Veth a little guilty--”this lady wants to desperately return home, shouldn’t I want to go home too?” Caleb’s teleportation spell couldn’t have come a better time.

Sam wants Caleb & Astrid to get back together (well, he says “hump each other”), and Dani’s eyebrows climb off her forehead. Veth/Nott really thinks Caleb needs to have a roll in ze hay, and feels like after meeting her that there is a kindness or vulnerability to her that could be worthwhile. Travis thinks she feels like someone tethered, that it feels like she has a bomb or something in her chest that’ll explode if she tries to leave. Sam thinks Eadwulf is super cool. None of these names are spelled like I think.

Travis found the dinner super frustrating, because he felt Caleb was trying to walk a diplomatic line and he just wanted to backhand Trent.

Fjord is still coming to terms with his feelings for Jester, and the feelings are definitely real, but there’s a lot of timing that he’s considering and he also wants to figure out what the relationship is like outside of constant tension and battle. Fjord is also having trouble figuring out how to exercise the ability to display affection as well since he’s never received them, and is feeling out how to give and receive them. “It’s fine now, because he’s feeling it, but once you say it out loud, or once you come to a point where you make it known to the other side, then what happens? It might be ruined. It might be broken. Or it might not be!” The moment with the porcelain unicorn was too good not to try. Travis also sighs that he’s not a romance D&D guy, “but now I am! Fuckin’ Laura Bailey!” He’s definitely feeling it out and will see how it unfolds in the game.

If Jester hadn’t let go of the Traveler, Fjord would have either attacked the Traveler or the Moonweaver and tried to kick them both off.

Sam doesn’t think the Traveler’s realized yet what a dick he is. Brian thinks it may not happen in this campaign, but agrees the full weight of what he deserves hasn’t been felt yet. Travis: “Yeah, he came to the edge, but it didn’t cost him anything.” Brian: “Yeah, he’s a real edgelord.”

Fanart of the Week! a beautiful portrait of Molly in the snow by @claygryphon on twitter.

Veth acknowledges that they work for shady people with shady pasts, so Vess DeRogna isn’t her first rodeo, but this time it’s personal. It’s Jaws 2: Electric Boogaloo. Sam can’t commit to actual actions, since Vess is like level 20 or something, but “I will get some kinda revenge. Be it petty or significant, I will get revenge.”

How are they feeling about being in Eiselcross? They’ve only just landed, so not sure yet. The cold is intimidating. They’re excited to explore a new island that’s part of Wildemount, especially with the river of lava running through it. “It’s icy with lava? Sounds like a Dairy Queen.”

There’s still a ton of unknowns regarding the Tombtakers, Vess, the nature of their job, and who’s here on whose orders. They’re excited to see how it’s all going to play out. Travis laughs that he doesn’t take notes, he’s just here to fight things. It just washes over him when Matt starts talking about names and places. “It’ll reveal itself in time. [...] I don’t write those notes down. I don’t even know how to spell it off the bat.” I have never identified more with Travis. Sam actually does pay attention and take notes and was really impressed by Marisha’s dive.

Veth became interested in branding her own spellcraft as soon as she saw Caleb doing it. “That’s what the influencer agents are gonna be looking at. It would be nice to leave the world better than we found it, but also with some branded spells.”

What were Fjord’s thoughts on dropping so much money on the ring & the Ioun stone? It wasn’t about money for Fjord, it was about a cool thing to acquire. It’s why he saves money in his campaign. Caleb needs “as much of a flak jacket as he can get.” He also REJECTS the idea of buyer’s remorse on the ring and touts the effectiveness it’ll have on the lava river.

Travis talks about his old coins - a 340AD coin he bought at a ren faire and a 120BC coin that was a gift from a friend.

Sam marvels at the love and thought that Caleb put into the tower. Sam points out they forgot to go to the top two floors altogether. Travis: “Did the mansion get as much careful planning from Scanlan as the tower did from Caleb?” Sam: Absolutely not. But they were still thinking small in C1, figuring out how things went, and they didn’t have as much detail in their heads yet.

And that’s all the time we have for tonight! We end on everyone whispering way too close into their mics and tapping fingernails on mason jars. A fitting end to this crazy episode, I think.

Is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

287 notes · View notes

ifeelallwrite · 3 years

Text

Let’s talk about Hospital Playlist. (KDRAMA REVIEW)

note: does contain spoilers

When people ask me what is my favorite Korean drama of all time, with no doubt, IT’S HOSPITAL PLAYLIST. This drama has the comic relief, the emotional scenes, realistic characters-just to name a few. No toxic relationships and petty revenge fights. Nothing else will stop me for saying that this is the ultimate feel good drama.

SYNOPSIS: The drama shows insights into the daily lives of doctors and nurses working at Yulje Medical Hospital. It focuses on 5 doctors who have been friends since medical school, who also play together as a band.

This drama encompasses so many elements and characters so bear with me yo this might be real long

Hospital Playlist is produced/written by the Shin-Lee PD and writer pairing, whose previous works were the renowned Reply trilogy and Prison Playbook (which are *chef’s kiss*) I really like that all their dramas really highlight humanism, and puts emphasis on creating a heartwarming and realistic series. There isn’t always a major conflict to be resolved, but instead it showcases how different people-in this case mostly those in the medical field-go on about their daily lives. I also liked their reasoning to produce a medical drama which was that hospitals were where the most dramatic moments occurred, for example during births, deaths or sickness. And since we are still in the Covid-19 pandemic, it ties in greatly to be paying homage to all the medical personnel saving lives. Hence, props to those who were involved in this meaningful masterpiece <3

The drama is not the usual 16 episodes, but has 12 episodes for each season (SEASON 2 IS COMING SOON YAAS) Good thing is I felt that they were still able to weave a dynamic storyline in the first season even with lesser episodes. The writing was just top-notch with the witty humor bits. Additionally, the music is AMAZING. I love the concept of the main characters being a band and playing different songs every episode too.

Okay, now onto the characters. I thought that every character in this drama was well rounded. Starting of with the main five characters, also known as The 99ers, whose distinctive personalities and natural chemistry make all of them extremely likeable. All main characters are professors of different specialties, and I find the male OB-GYN (Seokhyeong) and female neurosurgeon (Songhwa) very refreshing. Also, I like Shin-Lee dramas always have characters that might be realistic yet hardly seen in other dramas or films. For example, Professor Ahn Jeongwon. Despite being a chaebol (inheritor/heir), he isn’t depicted as a spoilt brat or a cold character, instead as a warm Pediatric doctor who uses his wealth to secretly support patients in need. However it makes him stingy to his friends LOL

To be honest, I really thought I was gonna dislike Junwan due to his cold and tsundere nature. I pretty much believed that he was going to be the party pooper type of the bunch, but with the writer being a master of character development, he turned out to be really sincere and hilarious at times. Same for Ikjun, who apart from his enthusiastic and happy go lucky exterior, cares the most about the people around him. Although Seokhyeong seemed detached and introverted, he shows a emotional side to his friends as well as his mother. Songhwa is literally a girlboss though haha she’s smart, capable and gets along with everyone well. And she’s the most sane out of the bunch.

With all the main characters, we have the relationships. Junwan is the first to date seriously with Iksun (the dog or Micky? jkjk) who is Ikjun’s sister. When it first happened I was like not again Jung Kyung Ho (bc he dated his best friend’s sis in prison playbook too LMAO) I think their relationship was realistic and open. It also showed a more sensitive side to Junwan who would do anything for her. I especially liked how he said he didn’t need access to her phone because he trusted her. Yet as all couples do, they have their fair share of ups and downs. Like conflicts on getting married and a long distance relationship as Iksun moves overseas for graduate studies. I don’t really know how to take the ambiguous ending for these two, as Junwan receives the returned box (that has the ring he sent) I really hope nothing bad happens to these two though.

I’m sure we all love Wintergarden couple though, tbh they’re kinda my OTP at the moment 🤣 It was pretty much a ‘will they won’t they’ relationship with a relatively slow build. I think Gyeoul turned out to be one of my favourite characters. Shin Hyun Been did a good job at portraying her as a straightforward but innocent Resident, who is pretty much openly crushing on Jeongwon. The scenes they had together were adorably awkward (and the scene where he gives her chocopies omg) And when Jeongwon battles his inner conflict to become a priest, the final decision where they kiss was beautifully shot, with the actors both showcasing their emotions extremely well.

Then we have Chihong who pursues Songhwa, his professor. Midway through the drama, it is also shown that Ikjun and Songhwa might have had romantic feelings for each other. Songhwa ends up rejecting Chihong’s confession. In my opinion, Chihong was quite a interesting character but I didn’t really like him at the end. (I like the actor though) He did a real jerk move during drinking games, insisting on Ikjun to confess his feelings towards her even though he is already trying not to put Songhwa in an awkward spot. Although his character did end up making a cool exit and when I thought about his incredible story of soldier to doctor, I kinda regret disliking him that much. As for IkSong, In the final episode Ikjun confesses to her one last time, and we are left waiting for Songhwa’s reply. As much as I love this pairing, I don’t think that the ship will sail or maybe not as quickly as we think. I believe Songhwa would meticulously consider the sacrifices to their friendship or other aspects and might not be able to bring herself to it, but I hope it’s otherwise.

Lastly not forgetting Seokhyeong and Minha, another Professor+resident pairing. This one’s a bit ambiguous though, mainly because there hasn’t been much romantic development. To me, the most impactful scene came from Minha who had been irritated by continuous night shifts and was on the verge of a breakdown. She ended up remarkably saving a patient, starting off surgery on her own for the first time. Oh man Minha was such a lovable character, I remember feeling so bad for her but extremely proud of her for her accomplishment. Although Seokhyeong seemed a bit aloof and distant (which was intentional bc he’s an introvert) I think the backstory and all the hardships he faced with his family really made me feel for him. I hate to break it to you, but I’m not so sure if the ship will sail because of the phone call from his ex-wife and Minha’s somewhat rejected confession. But who knows, they might pull off a twist 👀

Apart from all these characters, there are more characters HHAHAH However, I think this is the killing point of ShinLee dramas. Unlike typical dramas which usually focuses on a main character and 2-3 side characters, they like to cast a diverse range of actors (especially those from theatre/musicals and lesser known drama/movie actors) while actually give their characters personality or a reason to be there. I’ve seen many dramas where extras or side characters were kind of irrelevant thus making me feel that they weren’t needed to build the storyline, yet ShinLee dramas hit different y’all. Every role, no matter how small, holds significance to the drama. It really seemed like a collaborative work that shows off every actors skills (and not forgetting staffs) and teamwork.

Anyways because there are way too many characters and too many scenes for me to mention them all, I’ll just talk about some honourable mentions heheh

1. Sunbin and Seokmin confession scene (ahh so cute)

I kinda sensed that they liked each other at the start but I didn’t know Seokmin would ask her out on a date at the end. Even though it’s kinda awkward that they are dating and working with each other though (both are in the same department) but hey the confession was cute and awkward and just warm and fuzzy 🥰

2. MAMA ROSA IS THE QUEENN

I think we all (would) love Mama Rosa because she’s a real one ☝️ (probably the coolest mother ever) She’s feisty, hilarious and kind to others. Plus her friendship with Ju Jong Su was just adorable and super wholesome. The scenes where they were supporting one another through tough times and hanging out with each other when they felt lonely always put a smile on my face. Oh and how Mama Rosa treated Gyeoul was extremely sweet. (as well as Seokhyeong’s mother) Despite her tough exterior, she’s a likeable character for being a strong but caring woman.

3. Just Do Jae Hak

I seriously love this guy so muchhh omg he’s so funny

Do Jae Hak has a funny amd clumsy personality, though it’s clear he’s been through a lot and is strong willed person. From admitting his indecisiveness to counselling Jun Wan on his love issues, there’s literally nothing to hate about him.

4. Uju and his dadd

The father and son chemistry between these two is so good omg. The scenes with these two are so adorable and heartwarming (not to mention hilarious) It’s amazing to see how Ikjun cares so much for Uju despite his hectic workdays while going through infidelity issues with his ex-wife. Uju is matured for his age and shows his love and appreciation for his dad too, making their interaction a great portrayal of a healthy family relationship💞

5. the food stealing the show🥘

Who doesn’t love food and when a show has great food scenes? Some of the best scenes are definitely when the 99s gather to eat. It really showcases each character’s personality with the tiniest details as well as highlight warm delicious meals. Just don’t watch this when you’re hungry at 2am in the morning guys you’ll be drooling all over your screens HAHAHA

Of course there are way more aspects, like Hongdo and Yoonbok, Ikjun and Iksun’s pigeon jokes and raps, or Jeongwon drunk crying in the chicken shop with his brother (who was his coach in Reply 1994 when he played Chilbong LOL)

Most importantly, I think it is the themes and messages that you get from the drama that really create such a lasting impression. Not only does it hit you in the feels with the hardships of hospital patients, or the hardworking doctors+nurses who are working long shifts saving lives, it also tackles topics of friendships through the possibilities of platonic and friends-to-lovers relationships. However I think the biggest lesson for me came from Seokhyeong, who learns to live his life doing what he want, with the people he treasures. Although the drama might seem slow at times (mainly because there isn’t really a main plot line/conflict occurring), but this drama would still bring you on a journey where you would laugh, cry and finish the series, begging for season 2 ✌🏻

76 notes · View notes

xiaomomowrites · 3 years

Text

home

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “Home isn’t always a place,” he taps Zhongli’s chest, “home can mean a lot of things to different people. For me, my home is my family. Wherever they are is where my home is. And maybe that’s in Liyue, maybe it’s in Snezhnaya, or maybe it’s in Inazuma. Either way, wherever my mother is, wherever my siblings are, that’s what I call home.”

As Childe trails off, he’s suddenly aware of how he’s fidgeting with a button on Zhongli’s coat now. The tips of his ears turn red. He meets his gaze abashedly. “Does that answer your question?”

Zhongli smiles fondly at him. “I believe it does. Thank you for indulging me.”

Or; Zhongli struggles to define what exactly “home” means to him.

Find it on Ao3!

This part takes place between act V and Zhongli, Come Down. I know I posted this series totally out of order, please forgive me for my lack of organization :,D

A/N: First of all, I finally have a beta reader!! She’s helped me through the process of writing this and I’m incredibly thankful for her support. I accidentally made her cry with this fic though, even if it wasn’t necessarily sad?? Regardless I appreciate her feedback haha.

Oh my, I feel like I’ve been writing these two being really soft for too long. After this, I really need to face the music and write these two fighting. The time has come. They won’t be in the honeymoon phase forever!! I’m gonna vibe check all of you.

Also, do yourself a favor and listen to the songs Home by Michael Buble and Sparks by Coldplay after or during you read this. You’re welcome.

Lastly, you can find me on Twitter @/xiaoscribbles where I’m extremely active and talk too much about Genshin. I love making friends there!

Enjoy <3 -u.n.

Zhongli never had a place to call home.

Or rather, he never bothered to find one of his own and commit to it.

He was always too mobile, too nomadic. He had places to be, people and adepti to see, contracts to see through. Zhongli never found himself settling into one place for too long. Sure, when he was Rex Lapis, he had nested many times. He was a beast whose presence was too large to be confined into one space, so he would glide to the highest mountain in Liyue with ample space for a dragon like him, and settle. Zhongli remembered how he would make it as comfortable as possible for himself using all kinds of things he would pick up on his travels. A deep purr of satisfaction would rumble through him as his scaled belly would make contact with the coolness of the earth, and Rex Lapis would allow himself to relax against the stone, body sinking as if he were weightless. Although, no matter how he shifted, tossed and turned when he tried to rest, something was always missing.

Even the familiar feeling of the Liyuan ground was not enough to fill the void in his chest.

It was satisfying, sure, but never completing.

Hence, his lack of understanding of the human desire to settle down in one home for the rest of their short, yet meaningful lives.

Were they not itching to get up and go somewhere else? See the world? Appreciate the land beneath their feet in all its entirety? Zhongli failed to comprehend. Even an ancient being like him fell short in understanding the idea of a “home”.

Well, what consisted of a home, anyway? Four walls and a roof over their heads? A kitchen filled with food? A soft bed with layers and layers of sheets? What was the meaning of all that, when the true beauty of the world was beyond those four walls, high into the sky, and deep beneath the sea? What kind of pleasure could possibly come out of being domesticated?

Nevertheless, Zhongli did make an old promise to try to understand humans as they were. So sure, Zhongli supposed he could appreciate the art of architecture. He saw how hard people worked to build these beautiful houses with intricate designs to maximize safety for the residents excited to inhabit them. It was endearing, Zhongli thought, how enthusiastic humans got about a house. The idea of settling down with their loved ones would give them so much serotonin, so much drive. It was inspiring to him. Zhongli had always hoped that one day, he could feel the same way about someone.

So why couldn’t bring himself to understand the joy in this “home” everyone spoke of? What was he missing? Was he missing the duvet? The one thousand thread count sheets? Was he missing the fine China he saw peddlers selling on roads far from town? Because he had tried his best, living in his mortal form, to find the simple pleasure in decorating his home.

But no matter what he did, no matter how many throw pillows he placed on the couch, he simply could not deny the gaping hole in his chest when he went to bed at night. He had reached a point where even cooking for one every night upset him so, and he would go to bed disgruntled and hollow. The vast margins left on the king sized bed in the middle of the night kept Zhongli awake. Though he did not even need sleep, he had tried his best to form what the humans called a “proper sleeping schedule”. Apparently, according to Hu Tao, sleeping at four in the morning and waking at seven for work was “not suitable”.

But in truth, what was he supposed to do? Pray tell, what could he possibly do to absolve the issue of the chasm growing in his chest with each passing night?

“Xiansheng!” A jovial voice snaps him out of his reverie.

Zhongli looks up from his mundane paperwork to see a familiar head of red hair bounding toward him languidly. Oh, what a sight for sore eyes.

“Childe,” he greets, “did you pester Miss Hu Tao into letting you back here again?”

“Pester?” Childe brings a hand to his chest to mock his hurt, “I hardly have to bother her to come back here. A simple ‘you look fantastic today’ is always my ticket in.”

Zhongli scoffs fondly. “How can I help you, Childe?” He sets his pen down and leans back in his chair, amber eyes following the Harbinger curiously.

“Well your break is in ten minutes, so I figured I’d come grab you for lunch at Wanmin?” Childe plants two hands flat on the cherry red oak desk and leans forward into Zhongli’s space. There’s his signature teasing smile spreading slyly across his face, the one he knows Zhongli won’t be able to resist.

Zhongli hums in approval. “Sure, let me just wrap up this last form and I should be ready to go shortly.”

Childe drops down to his elbows in response and rests his face between his palms. “You sure? We could just go now, you know. I got Hu Tao consulting Ying’er about the new fragrance for the next hour or so.”

Zhongli leans forward and meets him in the middle. “I must be responsible, Childe. If my lunch break is at noon, then I will not leave my post until then.”

Childe pouts, jutting his bottom lip out cutely in an attempt to convince him otherwise. Zhongli, immovable as ever, simply leans forward and captures his lips between his own. The Harbinger makes a happy noise in the back of his throat and presses closer, positively humming when the ex-Archon reciprocates. But the older man is quick to get back to work, pulling away as quick as he came, but not before he nips at Childe’s bottom lip. The ginger whines petulantly at the loss of contact.

“Have a seat, Ajax.” Zhongli speaks, a hair’s width away from kissing him again. Childe grumbles, but agrees regardless. He seats himself in one of the plush armchairs located in the corner of the office and makes himself comfortable for the next ten minutes.

Zhongli readjusts himself in his seat and picks his pen back up, glancing back down at the form he had already completed. He blinked owlishly at it. He must have finished signing it while Childe was talking without realizing what he had done. Regardless, he moves onto the next document to peruse silently. Mid sentence, he scoffs playfully, shaking his head at the thought of the ginger distracting him so. Is he even surprised at this point? Not even a little bit. The ginger has an incomprehensible hold on his heart, one that he doesn’t really want to shake off.

“Something funny, Xiansheng?” Childe teases from his seat. He’s reclined in his chair, relaxed, head lolling against the cushioned headrest. His eyes are closed and his shoulders are drooping into the leather. He’s relaxed, for once, and the thought of Ajax allowing himself to let his guard down in his presence makes Zhongli’s heart thump happily in his chest.

“Not particularly,” Zhongli pushes himself up with a groan. Goodness, his joints are getting tired. He pads over to where Childe is seated and forcefully makes room for himself on a chair that is clearly made for one person. Childe lets out a surprised yelp at the sudden intrusion but scoots over to make room, anyway. Zhongli makes himself comfortable by angling his body to where it’s being cradled by the junction between the armrest and the back, and opens his arms as a silent invitation.

Childe takes it happily and launches forward to burrow into Zhongli’s chest. He rests a gloved hand over his heart and snuggles closer, inhaling the deep scent of silk flowers and leather. Zhongli’s arms come around to strap him against his chest, gloved hands petting his sides as he presses a kiss to red hair. The contact immediately vanquishes the discourse in his mind. He squeezes him tight for good measure, forcing a grunt out of his Tartaglia.

“Xiansheng,” he calls.

“Hm?”

“You’re working too hard again.”

“Am I?” He questions absentmindedly. “And here I thought I was pulling my weight just fine.”

Childe snorts. “Pulling your weight? You know I make enough for the both of us. You could retire and stay at home, relaxing and reading books, or whatever it is you do at home.”

Ah, there it is again.

Home.

For the second time that day, Zhongli is struck with confusion.

“What is home to you, Childe?” He asks, voice soft and far away. Childe frowns against his chest in confusion.

“Home?” He parrots.

“Yes, home. What is ‘home’ to you, Tartaglia?”

“Hmm,” the Harbinger hums, tapping a gloved finger against the ex-Archon’s chest idly as he speaks. “I suppose home is Snezhnaya. Home is what I grew up in. The unbearable cold and the old cottage house. Ice fishing with my siblings, massaging my mother’s back. Those things are all home to me.”

Zhongli ponders. Of course that is what home means. Familiarity, yes? So, technically, his home was Liyue. The hustle and bustle of trade by the harbor, the loud sizzling woks at the food stands, the loud marketers on the street that work hard day and night, the enthusiastic story tellers spewing exaggerated lies— that was all home to him.

So why, then, was Zhongli still dissatisfied with this conclusion? Home should obviously be Liyue. He created this land with his own two hands. Gave people the very drive that keeps them alive today; he gave the idea of mora and fair trade and economic prosperity. He’s watched countless faces pass him every day, every year, every century. He’s seen new faces, young faces, old faces, familiar faces, too, the ones he had seen on older souls. Reincarnated souls. Zhongli knew those souls. He’s had dinner with many of them on multiple occasions.

And it was no secret that Zhongli was well known in his hometown. Every business owner was familiar with his eloquent way of speaking and ambitious ways of buying. With the arrival of Childe, every business owner all but doubled their enthusiasm now that Mister Zhongli finally had a means to pay. People knew Zhongli, they adored him. They admired his amber eyes and long, beautiful hair, the ends of it looking like it had been dipped in melted mora. When he walked, people’s eyes followed. They would stare longingly at his beautifully crafted coat, his single earring, the fine leather gloves that cover his deft hands, and they would admire the way he walked with purpose, and with fire. A confidence so set in stone, it was almost difficult for one to even approach Mister Zhongli. For so long, he was considered Liyue’s most handsome bachelor, until of course Tartaglia came along and swept him off of his feet, capturing his attention in a way no one else could ever imagine imitating.

Yet, despite all the attention his people lavished upon him, there was always a nagging feeling of isolation nipping at him in the back of his mind. Despite creating the very ground beneath their feet, he simply felt like he did not fit in. Only when he was with Tartaglia did he truly feel like he belonged anywhere. It was rather inexplicable. There was something about the way Tartagali’s presence wrapped around him with a level of tenderness he had never experienced. It covered him like a gentle embrace, welcomed him without judgement, and loved him without expecting anything in return. The thought of Ajax himself made Zhongli’s heart swell

Speaking of which, the said man was now pressed tightly against his chest tracing lazy patterns into the fabric of his coat. Their long legs were tangled where they were dangling off the seat, with Tartaglia’s foot rubbing affectionately against the older man’s ankle.

Oh, how far they have come.

“But,” Tartaglia suddenly interjects, jolting Zhongli out of his thoughts. “If my family were to come here to Liyue to stay, then I suppose Liyue would be home, too.”

Zhongli hums. “Naturally. I’m sure they would find the variety of houses here in Liyue nice and peaceful, perfect for a new home.”

At that, Childe lets out a light laugh. “Honestly? They could live in a cardboard box in Inazuma, and I would still call that home.”

Zhongli frowns. Well now he’s even more confused than when he started. Since when was a cardboard box a suitable home for a human? It completely lacked all the appliances the houses here in Liyue had. Why would Childe settle for that? He of all people was aware of the love he holds for his family, there simply was no way he would call that a suitable home for his family.

“I don’t understand,” he says instead, “a cardboard box, Tartaglia? You do not strike me as the type to settle for such an...unbecoming home. Especially for your family.”

“No, no, Xiansheng,” the Harbinger chuckles, sitting up slightly so he can look Zhongli in the eye. “I was just exaggerating. And, home isn’t always supposed to be a house, you know. Those two things can be mutually exclusive. Maybe not all the time, but, definitely most of the time.”

Well this was certainly new. Now he truly did not understand what it meant to have a home.

“Apparently I do not know.”

Childe sits upright to look down at the ex-Archon.

“Home isn’t always a place,” he taps Zhongli’s chest, “home can mean a lot of things to different people. For me, my home is my family. Wherever they are is where my home is. And maybe that’s in Liyue, maybe it’s in Snezhnaya, or maybe it’s in Inazuma. Either way, wherever my mother is, wherever my siblings are, that’s what I call home.”

Childe is aware he’s rambling, but he can’t help it. Once he starts talking about his siblings, he simply cannot stop. “It wouldn’t matter where I was if I couldn’t hear my siblings from the other room. If I didn’t wake up to Tonia’s loud blow dryer every morning, or if I didn’t hear Anthon trying to talk to her over the blowing, then it isn’t home. If I can’t hear Teucer’s footsteps coming toward me asking about a new Mr. Cyclops toy, it isn’t home. Not to me. But like I said, it’s different for everyone.”

Zhongli smiles fondly at him. “I believe it does. Thank you for indulging me.”

Childe pushes himself up and off the chair, stretching and yawning obnoxiously. “Great,” he replies once his jaw finishes unhinging itself from that yawn, “let’s eat, I’m starving.”

—

To put it simply, Zhongli rethinks his definition of home all night. After he gets home from his dinner date (Tartaglia tugged on his sleeves until he agreed to leave his shift early in favor of a new restaurant that had popped up recently), he closes the door behind him to take in the composition of his home. Tartaglia had been the one to pick out most of the furniture, so although it lacked many of the traditional Liyuan decor Zhongli would have furnished the place with himself, it had a nice touch of Tartaglia everywhere he went.

His couch, for example, was a deep mahogany leather that stayed cool to the touch despite the hottest of summers. Zhongli’s dresser was nice and tall, a deep chestnut brown cut from the forests of Snezhnaya to match his bed frame. His bed was elevated by an incredibly grandiose four post frame that hung a beautiful golden translucent curtain all around the bed, draping the perimeter and creating an ethereal atmosphere for when he sleeps at night.

(“It’s kinda sexy, don’t you think?” Childe had asked one day, while he was pondering which bed frame to buy for his boyfriend. Not that he needed to, considering Zhongli finally has a stable salary, he just wanted to.

“Ajax,” Zhongli had said disapprovingly, “what about it is sexy to you?

“I don’t knowww,” the Harbinger hums, “maybe it looks like I would feel like I’m on cloud nine when we’re, you know…”

“You can say sex, Ajax, I believe in you.”

“Oh stop that!” Childe whacks him playfully with the catalogue, “I’m being a good boyfriend and getting you a beautiful bed frame cut from the finest oak tree and sheets woven with high quality silk! You could be nicer to me, you know.” He’s pouting, and he knows it. Zhongli’s eyes soften.

Zhongli shakes his head, laughing. “You know you don’t need to do that, you know.”

“I want to,” Ajax persists, “this is your first actual living space as a mortal! I want it to be perfect. I refuse to have my boyfriend, who is a literal god, sleeping on a bed with no bed frame. Unacceptable.”

Zhongli smiles and watches him as he continues to ramble about all the different bed frames he could buy. Oh, his love for this boy knows no end.)

The hints of Ajax everywhere he goes is how he keeps himself sane each night. His possessive urge to be around him every second of every day (courtesy of being a dragon deity his entire six thousand year life span) is soothed with the smell of him on his sheets and the extra toothbrush by the sink. One of Tartaglia’s scarves is folded neatly on the arm of his couch, and during those nights where he truly feels Ajax’s absence, he’ll hold the red fabric close and breathe the scent in deeply. The smell alone is enough to rock him to sleep on some nights, but on others, it simply is not enough. On those nights, he finds himself reading book after book about Snezhnaya culture until he passes out from exhaustion.

One would think that it would be better for them to just live together. Given that they spent every second outside of work with each other, even going so far as walking the long route home just to avoid saying goodbye, a person would look at the way they held each other close in public and think that they’ve been married for quite some time already.

But alas, they had agreed to take their relationship slow in the beginning. The both of them had much to adjust to, given that one of them was a notoriously fierce Harbinger, and the other was an ex-Archon adjusting to the world without his gnosis. They both had complex schedules that they were much too familiar and comfortable with to just up and leave for another person. There was a certain period of time that they had agreed to spend apart, well, as “apart” as they could be, before they decided to do anything drastic, like move in together.

There was too much to consider, anyway, Zhongli reflects as he gets ready for bed. Would their living habits even align? Would Tartaglia even be a good roommate? Would he take out the trash responsibly? As much as he loves the ginger with his entire heart, he doesn’t think he could do it for long if Tartaglia was the type to walk around with shoes on. Such an act should be considered illegal, anyway.

Waiting was the right thing to do.

Right?

The nights Tartaglia spent with him were the nights he could sleep a full, uninterrupted eight hours. They were the nights that Zhongli felt himself truly relax into the sheets and sink into a blissful sleep, knowing his beloved was being held impossibly close. And if nighttime was therapeutic for him, mornings felt ethereal. The mornings where he rose with the sun to be met with the sight of Tartaglia next to him were the mornings he felt like he could fly again, and soar through the open Liyue skies in his rawest form forever, so long as Tartaglia was with him.

In fact, more often than not, Zhongli thought about the way it would feel to have Childe by his side as he explored the skies again. He would think about the way he would have to strap him down, nice and close so he doesn’t fall off his back, and then take off high into the sky. Not too high, lest he accidentally give his boyfriend a heart attack, but high enough to hear those delightful shrieks Childe will let out when he’s excited. He thinks about the way Childe could grasp onto his mane for security, hands threading through golden locks, legs tightening around his torso to avoid falling. Oh, he thinks about this a lot.

But, waiting was the right thing to do. The last thing he wanted was for Childe to feel uncomfortable with the pace that their relationship was going and make him uneasy. Besides, just because he was a possessive dragon at heart, it didn’t mean Ajax was willing to cater to his needy tendencies. So, he promised himself that he would create a reasonable distance between them for the time being.

Why then, did he hate this distance with every fiber of his being?

Why is the distance so unbearable, especially at night?

Why is he so unsettled with the very few miles between them? It’s not like Zhongli is in Liyue and Childe is in Snezhnaya. Tartaglia is literally only at the inn.

Yet he craves nothing more but to be close to him at all times. Zhongli’s skin itches with the desperate desire to feel him by his side when he goes to bed, when he wakes up, and all the moments in between. Does that make him clingy? Maybe. But old habits die hard.

Zhongli huffs and looks down at his flattened pillow with disdain. No amount of fluffing will restore it to a state that is suitable for his likes. Even the elegantly woven silk night robe wrapped around his body offers little to no comfort.

He glances at the clock.

It’s only half past midnight. If all went well with Tartaglia’s shift, he should be home now, fresh out of the shower.

Without thinking twice, Zhongli throws together an overnight bag and rushes out the door.

—

“Coming, I’m coming,” Childe calls to the incessant knocks at his door. The knuckles continue to rap against the barrier, though, and Childe’s fingers itch to summon a water blade in the case that things go south. Considering that there is rarely anyone that would dare to disturb him at this time of night, Childe would say his precautionary measures are reasonable. He had summoned an angry water god, after all. It was only a matter of time before the angry mobs got to him.

The knocks sound again, and Childe angrily ruffles his hair against the towel. If they could just wait one second, he could answer the door with dry hair, but no. Peace was not an option, apparently, and neither was a perfectly fluffed head of hair.

He stomps toward the door and swings it open, ready to scold whoever had—

“Xiansheng!” He startles when he sees Zhongli standing in the doorway, donning a simple black t-shirt tucked into high waisted pants that were loose and slightly flared at the bottom, and his feet were covered by simple strappy sandals. Childe vaguely remembers purchasing those pants for him when he had mentioned wanting more loose and liberating clothes. The ex-Archon looks good like this. He looks… impossibly soft. Vulnerable, almost. There’s a distant look in his amber eyes that has Childe mildly concerned, though. Childe tries to ignore the sudden urge to protect him to his last dying breath.

“What are you doing here?” He sidesteps and reaches out to drag his boyfriend in. “I thought we had already discussed you sleeping so late! I know you’re an adeptus, you don’t require sleep, blah blah blah, but still, you—“

“I missed you,” Zhongli stated so matter of factly. “I wanted to see you. So I came here.”

Childe gawks at him and closes the door slowly. So he had just walked all the way here?! At this hour?! Goodness, the audacity—

“Xiansheng,” he whines instead, dragging the older man into an embrace. He wraps his arms around his neck and presses his cheek into his hair. “You can’t just say those things. It’s impossible for me to love you more.”

Zhongli holds him with desperation, welcoming the hug so enthusiastically that Childe knows there’s something to be said.

“Can I stay the night?” The adeptus asks once they pull apart.

Childe looks at him, dumbfounded. “You don’t even need to ask! Go, make yourself comfortable. Are you hungry? Have you had dinner?”

Zhongli drops his bag by his side of the bed and takes a seat, still watching Childe with careful eyes.

“I’ve eaten,” he answers carefully. “I just couldn’t seem to get comfortable at… home… so I came here.”

Childe frowns, and joins him on the bed. He flips the covers open and clambers in, resting back against the headboard. “Not comfortable? Is something wrong with your place?”

“Maybe,” Zhongli tries, “I really don’t know. Frankly I’ve been conflicted about… many things… recently, and I feel as if I have reached an impasse. I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia says, suddenly serious, “how come this is the first time I’m hearing of this?” His voice drops an octave, the worry seeping into his tone.

Zhongli reclines and rests against the headrest, too. “I did not know how to express my troubles to you, mainly because I’m having trouble defining it myself.”

Well, that’s fair enough. Tartaglia can’t find it in himself to be mad at that reasoning.

“Well,” Tartaglia begins, reaching for Zhongli’s hand and hugging his arm to his chest. He scoots closer and uses Zhongli’s shoulder as a pillow. “Why don’t you just start rambling and maybe it’ll come to you.”

“I think I have a vague idea, actually,” Zhongli adjusts himself to make himself more comfortable for Ajax. The both of them find themselves staring up at the ceiling as they converse. “Remember when I asked you what ‘home’ means to you?”

“Of course,” Tartaglia answers. Oh, he has an idea of where this is going.

“Well, I’m unsure of what it means to me.”

Bingo.

“What it means to you?” The Harbinger asks, craning his neck to look up at him. Zhongli hums, affirmative.

“Yes, I’ve been struggling to define the term for myself. I’ve been observing others much more closely and how they define their own home, but I’m afraid it has made me more confused.”

Tartaglia juts out his bottom lip in contemplation. “What do you mean?”

Zhongli takes a deep breath, a long explanation at the tip of his tongue. Tartaglia braces himself, as he usually does.

“Today you told me home was your family. Miss Xiangling told me home was her father, and the smell of their kitchen. Young Xingqiu told me his home was within whatever book he was reading, even describing it as his safe space. And Miss Ningguang, most peculiar of all, had told me home was when she was out at sea, but only when Captain Beidou was by her side. Mind you, I had fully expected it to be the Jade palace, considering the built it from the ground up.” Zhongli rambles, “and I just found it strange how so many humans find different definitions for the word home. Such a simple word, too, so imagine my surprise when I discover it’s true complexity.”

“I’ve encountered many things in my life, Ajax. I have met so many people in this lifetime and watched them grow, watched them die, and even watched some be reincarnated. But I think…” he trails off, and the warmth in his eyes glimmer as he reaches an epiphany. “I think I am struggling to define the term because I have never been presented with the idea of stability. Things are always changing. The world around me continues to warp and I have noticed, in my time so far, that humans find the need for stability and reassurance because of the nature of their short lives. That is where I am lacking.”

—

Try as he might, Tartaglia takes slight offense to his statement.

Lacking stability? The thought was bitter on his tongue.

Was… was Childe not enough?

No, no, he forcefully derailed that train of thought, he came here tonight because you’re the only thing he can rely on in his life right now. Show him that.

“Well,” Childe starts carefully, and thanks the stars that his voice is steady. “What about me?”

Zhongli makes a confused noise. “What about you?”

“Do you consider me as a stable thing in your life?” Childe prods, digging his cheek deeper into his shoulder.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Zhongli snorts.

Childe unironically feels an ache in his chest. He stills against Zhongli. Ouch.

Luckily, Zhongli is at least able to pick up on his sudden discomfort, and he’s quick to follow up his statement.

“You misunderstand, Ajax, you being wildly chaotic is a beautiful thing in and of itself.” Zhongli gently pries Childe off his arm to look at him directly. As expected, Childe is upset. He’s got the same glassy eyes he always dons when he’s upset, but doesn’t want to admit it, and his bottom lip is red and obviously bitten in an attempt to keep himself from feeling unreasonably angry.

“Oh,” Zhongli coos at the sight, “I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s fine,” Childe blinks hard, “I’m just being dumb.”

“You’re not being dumb,” Zhongli is quick to negate his self-deprecative tendencies, “I must have come off very harsh just now. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Childe thumps a fist against his chest, “it’s fine, really.”

“As I was saying,” the Archon continues, “nothing about my life so far has been stable, Ajax. Things are constantly changing. Time continuously flows, and it simply does not wait for any man. Unfortunately, I have seen many people come and go. And unfortunately, one day you will become one of them--”

“Zhongli stop,” Childe interrupts him. He’s angry, now. His brows are furrowed and there’s an evident frown on his face. There’s a slight scowl across his lips where there used to be a precious smile just moments ago. “What the hell?” He asks angrily.

“Ajax,” Zhongli scolds softly, “it would be in your best interests if you let me finish.”

“Well, not if you’re just gonna talk about death,” Childe retorts. He’s aware that he sounds childish, but such a topic is not to be taken to lightly. Especially when it revolves around him, and what he would be leaving behind. The thought makes him sick to his stomach.

“Whether or not you’re stable, whether or not you’ll be here forever, you are the most important thing to me, probably ever.” He speaks with a certainty that makes Childe shiver. “You are the first person in a very long time that has made me want to try to grasp at the fleeting seconds I have with you, Ajax. You drive me crazy. And I love you for it, because never in my six thousand years have I had as much fun as when I am with you.”

Dammit, Childe is crying now. Zhongli has such a way with words, how could he not? Dating him is just one, huge, glorified emotional rollercoaster. Zhongli brushes a stray, reluctant tear away with the pad of his ungloved hand.

“Frankly, stability is overrated,” the ex-Archon smiles at the soft giggle that escapes his beloved’s lips. “I have found, albeit slowly, that I would rather have someone loud and rambunctious than someone slow and settled. That is my role, if anything. There simply cannot be two of us, can there?”

A soft “no” is huffed as laughter from Childe. What a boring relationship that would be, truly.

“But if it is stability you seek, Ajax, let me be that for you. Let me be here, solid as stone and steadfast. Let me be the pillar of strength you need to turn to in times of trouble. Okay?” He brushes a knuckle gently across his skin.

Childe makes a sound that sounds a little broken and a little delirious. “When did this become about me, Xiansheng?”

“To me, it’s always been about you,” Zhongli smiles fondly. Childe feels as if he’s been shot in the heart.

Childe gives him a shaky smile and nods. He can’t seem to control his heart at the moment, so instead, he says, “You’re my home, Zhongli.”

The gears seemed to finally click somewhere in Zhongli’s chest. The hollow feeling inside suddenly swelled with a sense of nostalgia, bringing with it a feeling of peace and serenity. Zhongli’s eyes widen, and the ex-Archon looks down at Childe with a sudden air of solid certainty. Childe almost shrinks at the intensity of his gaze.

“Of course,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Of course it’s you.”

“What?”

“How could I be so blind?” Zhongli cups his face with both hands, and Childe reciprocates by placing both palms on his wrists. Confused, but following along. Cor lapis eyes stare straight into his soul, unforgiving as it digs deeper and deeper into what makes him whole.

“Xiansheng?” Ajax asks, dazed by the intensity of Zhongli’s stare. God, his eyes are so golden.

“It’s you, Ajax,” for once, his voice cracks and he loses composure, “you… are home. You are home. To me, that is my definition of home. I only ever feel-- I only ever feel like I belong when I am with you. It was so obvious, and I--”

“Zhongli,” Ajax gently pries off the hands cupped around his face. His heart can’t handle this right now. It’s too much. He’s too in love, he needs to do something or he’ll explode. He stares directly into those beautiful, mesmerizing golden eyes. Ajax cradles Zhongli’s hands in his own, petting over his knuckles, when he asks, “Marry me?”

His eyes widen comically, as if they weren’t already the size of saucepans with his first epiphany.

“Oh.”

So that’s what he was missing.

“I know we said we would take it slow, and I know I’m young, or whatever” Childe begins to ramble, “but fuck going slow, Xiansheng, it’s been months and all I want to do is go to sleep with you next to me. I know what I want and it seems like you do, too, but if I misread that then--”

Zhongli hushes him with an incessant press of his lips against Childe’s. It is a loving kiss, yes, but it is filled with a desperation that only the both of them understand. It is a kiss that is so different from the others; one full of certainty and ambition, a kiss full of overwhelming commitment. The longing behind the contact is an answer in and of itself, but he pulls away to speak regardless.

“Yes,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against Childe’s, “yes.”

That night, Zhongli finally comes to the conclusion that home does not have to mean four walls and a roof. It doesn’t pertain to any kind of fancy kitchen appliances, or four post bed frames. Zhongli quickly learns that it doesn’t have to be about a place, and all the stories it tells. It’s not even Liyue, the very land he built himself. It has nothing to do with any of that. In fact, the sheer ridiculousness of Zhongli’s inner conflict has him rolling.

Instead, it has everything to do with the red head beneath him. It has to do with the way he calls his name in the middle of the night, claws his hands down his back and juts his hips forward, desperately seeking friction. Home has everything to do with swollen lips, red from being kissed, cheeks hot pink from the heat slowly filling the room, and strong thighs clenching and unclenching around his waist. Home has to do with his precious Snezhnayan soulmate.

Simply, home is Ajax.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #tartali #zhongchi #chili #tartaglia x zhongli #childe x zhongli #character study #zhongli struggles a lot...#childe #tartaglia #zhongli #rex lapis #help i want what they have

65 notes · View notes

harryhandstan · 4 years

Text

you bring me home

tw: death

word count: 2,356

This is a piece that was something more personal to me and I'm thankful to Olivia (@bfharry) for allowing me to include it in her bf!harry fic-a-thon. My aunt died in early December of 2019 very suddenly. She and my uncle had been together for almost 20 years, but since common law marriage is not recognized in my state, her sister was in charge of all arrangements. Her sister lived in another state and basically just called and set up everything for her cremation over the phone. My uncle was too devastated to really speak up and say anything, so my family and I never truly got a chance to have the experience of a funeral for her. I never felt like I got that closure I needed, so for the past 8 months since her death, my brain has cycled through this vicious cycle of denial and depression, never fully reaching acceptance. This piece is basically just the experience I wish I had and Harry helping me through the grief process.

It's also the very first Harry thing I've ever written and posted here so any and all feedback is welcome!

also lots of hugs to @geoffwittek for reading over everything for me and being such an angel in general

"Linds? We're gonna be late, love. Your family's still meeting at 3, right?"

His voice sounds distant, despite you both being in the same room. Your brain registers the noise but is unable to form a response.

He stands near the end of the bed, hands in his pockets, head down, "We don't have to go if it's too much for you. I'm sure your family would understand."

The black dress Harry helped you shop for 2 days ago lays, taunting you, at the end of the bed. You remember mindlessly wandering around before you had a breakdown in the middle of the department store. Harry had to sit with you on the bench outside of the store until you pulled yourself together enough to go back in.

Nearly a week ago, you had answered a call from home only to find your world turned upside down. Your Nanna cried on the other end, she couldn't believe the news was true either. It was so sudden and so unbelievably unexpected.

Your Aunt Linda was dead.

Thankfully, Harry had invited you over for dinner and a movie that night. You still don't remember how you stopped crying long enough to tell him the news. He held you on top of his chest, letting you sob until exhaustion took over and you fell asleep.

Currently, you were sitting on the side of the bed. Something in your brain had prompted you to gather enough strength to take a shower a couple of hours ago, but you hadn't had the energy to move since then. Harry's warm hand squeezing your shoulder brings you back to reality long enough to look at the clock and see you only had 10 minutes to get ready and be out the door.

"You coming back to me there, angel? Anything I can do to help you get ready for this?" he kneels in front of you, one hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face, wiping one of the many tears that were starting to form and fall.

"No, no, I can do this. I still wanna go. Just give me 5 minutes to get ready?"

"I'll go warm up the car." he leans up slightly and kisses your cheek before grabbing a set of keys off the dresser and disappearing down the stairs.

You throw the dress over your head quickly. Dread builds in your stomach but you push through, selecting a pair of pantyhose and taking longer to put them on than you have to spare, making sure you don't rip the delicate fabric. Shoes waited on the floor at the foot of the bed, a simple pair of black flats with a small silver buckle.

The bathroom lighting does you no justice as you try your best to do something to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You know there's no point in makeup, it'll all end up washed away by tears most likely before you even arrive at the funeral home. You apply a quick layer of moisturizer, hoping your skin will have a chance to recover before it's all washed away too. Your hair gets swept back into a low bun and at the last minute you grab a pair of earrings to loop through your ears on the way down the stairs and out the door.

The cold, winter air of December surrounds you as you make your way to the car. Harry was true to his word and had the car warm and waiting for you.

You take a shaky deep breath once you're settled in the passenger seat. Harry rests a hand on your knee, "You sure you're ready, peach?" you smile faintly at his nickname for you.

You'll never forget meeting him for the first time and comparing accents; your Georgia drawl versus his British one. Some nights when you were both delirious with sleepiness but unable to drift off, you would just exchange single words back and forth, trying to mimic one another. The nickname tended to roll off his tongue easier when you were in your hometown.

You shake your head no. How could you ever be ready for a day like this? Despite she and your uncle never getting married, she always supported and loved you and your siblings as her own nieces and nephew from day one. How were you supposed to live without a woman who always had an encouraging or motivational word to offer when you were sad or frustrated? A woman whose light was so bright in your life that her absence surrounded you with a darkness you could never imagine pulling yourself through? ______________________________________________________________

"You're making your lip bleed, lovie. Here." He swipes a thumb softly over your bottom lip. He pulls a tube of lip balm out of his coat pocket and you gratefully take it and use it.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this, H." You look down at your hands, a few frayed tissues lay on your lap, messy and still wet with tears. Your gaze meets his, eyes pleading for some sort of escape.

His arm wraps behind your back and a hand rests on your side, pulling you closer to him. He kisses your temple, "Do you want to leave?" His voice is a low, comforting rumble in your ear.

You look around at the small funeral home chapel. Only two of the twelve long wooden pews were filled. Most of your aunt's family still lived in Virginia, where she was originally from, and none of them could be bothered to pay their respects here in small town, Georgia. You couldn't leave now.

He reads your face, a brief glance over your features, feels your body relax into his, "Just say the word if you change your mind, alright?"

You rest your head on Harry's shoulder for the remainder of the sermon. The preacher is nice enough, but the speech he prepared is all wrong. Your aunt would have appreciated this, but it just wasn't her. Wasn't an accurate representation of who she was and the impact she had on your universe.

The preacher finally wraps up with a prayer, asking all to stand and bow their heads. You've never known Harry to be a particularly religious sort, but he grabs your hand and squeezes as he bows his head. A quick and thoughtful reminder that he's still there. He's not leaving your side.

The small gathering of guests parades past the casket now, all expressing their final goodbyes as they pass. Harry stands back, quiet and respectful, letting your family through first before he rejoins you. His hand lands on the small of your back and wanders around to rest on your hip as you walk back into the lobby together.

You accept a few hugs and expressions of condolences from the few friends that came. Your hand stays loosely tied to Harry's the whole time, and he uses his free hand to greet everyone you introduce him to. Your family offers you a spot in the family car to the graveside, but you decline. Harry assures them he'll drive you to the cemetery safely.

The graveside service is thankfully quick. Another gathering of guests and more kind words from the preacher. A small prayer. Emotional exhaustion is settling into your body, and Harry easily supports your weight back to the car when the service is over.

"Your Nanna cornered me in lobby before we left the funeral home while you were talking to your cousin," he starts the car and fiddles with the controls, adjusting the heat, "she wants us to come to her house for a bit. Are you up for that?"

You nod your head yes, still not sure if your voice is strong enough to not break when you answer him. You know it will only be your family there. 8 people, including Harry. You could handle that.

"Should we grab a bite to eat before we go? You haven't eaten much today, honey."

You chuckle. The first genuine laugh in a week bubbling up through your chest. You stop when you notice Harry's adorably confused expression, his brow furrowing together with slight concern.

"Oh, no. You don't eat before you go to Nanna's house, trust me." ______________________________________________________________

Harry is a warm addition to the small house on the hill.

His eyes go wide when he sees the amount of food spread across your grandmother's small round kitchen table. His gaze follows everyone already seated around the table and then back to you. All you can manage is an "I told you so" shrug.

"Is all this just to impress me or..?" his voice is a whisper in your ear, but the kitchen is so small it echoes around to the whole table.

"No, babe. This is how it always is at Nanna's."

Your Nanna and Aunt Donna, who you're sure spent all day making everything, insist that it's not THAT much food, but you know you'll all be guilted into at least finishing a full plate AND taking leftovers home for later. You're thankful to see even your uncle has a plate in front of him, knowing his appetite hasn't been the same since he lost your aunt.

When dinner is finished, a pot of coffee is made and passed aroud to accompany dessert. The aroma fills the house, the strong scent a comforting reminder of your Aunt Linda. She always said she hated the taste, but loved the smell. You inhale, the essence surrounding you and bringing back warm and lovely memories. You catch Harry's eye, a small smile crossing your face.

He makes his way around the living room, refilling a few mugs along the way. The open entryway between the two rooms allows you to watch the path he takes. He stops where your momma sits in a green plaid armchair, her lips are moving but you can't make out what they're saying. They both look at you and he turns back to her, a charming smile lighting up his face.

By the time he makes it back to the kitchen, you've slipped into your Nanna's bedroom. You know it's normally rude to disappear, but this place is home. Had been your second home all your life and you knew no one would care that you were slipping your shoes off and crawling under the covers of the freshly made bed.

You hear a lull of voices outside the door, and you're thankful for the noise, for the small comfort of gentle chaos. If you listen closely, you could pinpoint individual noises throughout the house; your dad and Nanna talking politics, your momma and sister flipping through channels on the living room tv, your Aunt Donna and your uncle questioning Harry about his favorite British television shows. You hear water running and picture Harry, his tall frame towering over the tiny kitchen sink, helping with the dishes. You feel a slight bit of guilt for leaving him alone, but by the sound of his laughter, he's making himself right at home too.

You drift to sleep, and when you wake, Harry is next to you. His long fingers smoothing comfortingly up and down your arm, "You disappeared, love. Thought you might like some company. Hope you don't mind me joining you."

You shift your body closer to him, your head on his chest, his arm resting behind your head, "Is everyone still here?"

He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face, tucks it neatly behind your ear, "Your uncle just left a minute ago, but everyone else is still around. Your brother called, said he was sorry he couldn't make it. I came to find you, make sure you were okay."

Your little brother was in his last semester of college. It was finals week and you know he would've been here if he could.

"I'm okay...I mean as okay as you can be after a day like today, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

You slip off the bed and Harry follows you, hands on your waist to steady your balance while you slip your shoes back on. He helps you remake the bed, and the two of you make your way back towards the kitchen, now quiet that everyone moved to the living room.

"Harry?" You turn back at the last second before you leave the room. He's following so closely behind you you end up pressed against him.

"Hmm?" He catches you, pulling you even closer, the light from the kitchen shining on his face.

"I haven't had a moment to thank you today. For all of it..dropping everything and flying out here with me, spending the whole day with my family, driving me everywhere, just being here with me. You've kept me sane and I could never repay you for something like that."

"You don't have to thank me. I wouldn't have dreamed of being anywhere else than right here. You needed me and that was all that mattered, everything else can wait."

______________________________________________________________

“Ha! Look at baby peach! How old were you here?”

Your lap was covered in pictures, the few favorites you had brought with you from home. Harry was plopped next to you on the couch. The picture in question is a baby picture of you, chocolate icing all over your chubby cheeks.

“That’s my first birthday party.” You giggle at his smile, the way he can’t stop staring at the photo.

You shuffle through a few more, Harry being curious about each one and questioning you about every detail.

“Who’s this?” The picture he hands you takes your breath away for a second. You forgot it was mixed in and he instantly knows by the tears filling up your eyes.

“It’s your Aunt Linda, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I didn’t know..”

“No, it’s okay. This is a good picture of her. She had such an amazing smile.” He rests his head on your shoulder.

“She loved you so much, babe. She would be so proud of you.”

“Yeah, she would’ve thought you were pretty great too, H.”

#boyfriendathon #harry x reader #bf!harry #my writing

312 notes · View notes

fyexo · 4 years

Text

200925 SuperM Dives Deeper with Super One

We meet the game-changing and boundary-breaking supergroup everybody needs to know.

There’s a rumble in the ground, a rupture, a star shining in the sky. Like a meteor landing on a quiet plain, SuperM – the Avengers of K-pop – landed in our lives, igniting the industry in unprecedented ways. With K-pop now considered a global phenomenon, how much more innovation is required to demand attention? The answer lies in the Capitol Records and SM Entertainment supergroup: the first K-pop act to debut in the US who immediately stole the show and made music fun again with their record-breaking 2019 introduction. SuperM consists of a diverse group of stars hailing from different groups: Taemin from SHINee, Kai and Baekhyun from EXO, Taeyong and Mark from NCT 127, and Ten and Lucas from WayV. They are the future, the charismatic force managing to both elevate and inspire. With Super One, the group’s first full-length album released on 25th September, they graduate from simply jumping and popping (Jopping!) to invoking the sincere emotions of listeners while simultaneously lighting up the room in the way that only they know how.

Baekhyun – the soulful vocalist, humble leader, and oldest member of SuperM – opens up about their growth: “When we first met, I could tell that the younger members were feeling a little nervous. But aside from working and performing together, we also naturally spent a lot of time together off stage, too.” In fact, their chemistry is palpable: “From sharing the same rooms when we were on tour in the US to shooting a reality show together recently, we made a lot of memories. Now, we’re like close brothers. We feel very comfortable with each other.”

Since joining the supergroup, Baekhyun’s Delight, released in May, became the first album in 19 years by a Korean soloist to sell over 1 million copies. Baekhyun says, “Shortly after completing my solo activities with ‘Candy’ [the lead single], I regrouped with SuperM, and I definitely feel more at ease in a group.” As evidenced by their discography, which fuses elements of hip-hop, pop, and various other genres, “We are always experimenting with different styles and trying to create something new so the synergy that we bring to the stage is very distinct and unique.”

Taemin has found similar success with his solo endeavours, recently releasing his best-selling project to date just this month. His 3rd Korean studio album, Never Gonna Dance Again: Act 1, hit number 1 on several iTunes Top Albums charts including the US and Canada. The graceful performer ponders the importance of embarking on this journey with the rest of SuperM. “Through our individual teasers, we wanted to tell a personal story about our beginnings—from how we developed our dreams to how we got to where we are now. They are reflections of our past that allowed us to become the artists that we are today.” For Taemin personally, who first debuted in SHINee in 2008, “This experience helped broaden my boundaries as an artist and I’m very thankful for that.”

Taemin’s wisdom is apparent in how he interprets his growth, “Although I’ve performed abroad many times before, SuperM was formed with the global market in mind so I took this as a new challenge and a great opportunity for me to learn and grow even more. Through SuperM, I was able to get closer to my international fans and learn more about their cultures. Because of the opportunities I’ve had more recently to perform on a global stage, my stage performances and mannerisms have improved and this has made me a stronger artist.”

Branded as fast-moving and dynamic, there were certain expectations for them to continue on this path. The motifs are intentional, but fitting, and as the endearing Hong Kong rapper Lucas puts it, “‘Movement’ and ‘speed’ for us carries a deep meaning and represents our strength and energy. It also describes how SuperM is always moving forward no matter how difficult the situation may be. There is no better tomorrow if you’re not moving forward.”

Taemin further reflects on this. “I think fans will be surprised to hear mellow, medium-tempo tracks that are not performance-based. Incorporating the performance element is of course one of the most important parts of what SuperM does in our music, but this time, we also wanted to emphasise a message of hope.”

Kai, lead dancer of EXO and Gucci ambassador, who will also be embarking on his solo career soon, shares that “I really want to perform ‘Infinity’ and ‘Monster’. Together, they form our title track, ‘One’. I’m excited to perform ‘One’ as well, but also would love to showcase the two tracks separately, as I think that would bring a different charm on stage.”

The love for this track is echoed by Taemin, an expert when it comes to this fusion of songs as SHINee also had a combination of tracks with 2012’s ‘Sherlock’, a mix of ‘Clue’ and ‘Note’. “With K-pop, you often have a gradual change of genres in one song, but ‘One’ brings together two completely different songs, so it’s fresh—but it still sounds very natural and seamlessly put together.” He adds, “The members’ vocals really stand out through these tracks so I hope fans enjoy!”

B-sides like ‘Together At Home’ and ‘Wish You Were Here’ are like a comfort blanket for fans, suitable for the current world climate. Kai recognises that impact and describes it as intentional, “Music can really lift your spirits when you’re feeling down so I hope people find healing and happiness while listening to our music. That would make us very happy.”

“FROM SHARING THE SAME ROOMS WHEN WE WERE ON TOUR IN THE US TO SHOOTING A REALITY SHOW TOGETHER RECENTLY, WE MADE A LOT OF MEMORIES. NOW, WE’RE LIKE CLOSE BROTHERS. WE FEEL VERY COMFORTABLE WITH EACH OTHER.”

Prior to the official album drop with title track ‘One’, several songs were released, each accompanied by their own electric music videos. The single, ‘100’, has lyrics written by youngest member Mark, who explains, “For ‘100,’ I wanted to really bring the energy of SuperM, because my verse opens up the track, and I wanted to really complement the song while emphasising our strength as a group and that we have the capability to be at the top.” The Canadian rapper, whose positive energy is contagious, says, “Taeyong and I also wrote our verses for ‘Together At Home,’ and I think we tried to keep the lyrics closely tied to the overarching message of the album. So for that song, we tried to envision what it’s like to be “together at home”, so staying connected to the fans and our loved ones while we are physically apart.”

Ferocious single ‘Tiger Inside’ was released on 1st September, and NCT leader Taeyong describes it best, “as a hip-hop song with an Asian-themed vibe. One part of the lyrics says, “Wake up the tiger inside” which I think describes SuperM’s energy really well. He eloquently personifies the group through a more artistic lens. “SuperM coming together is almost like a painting created using these different colours, to create a new work of art.”

Though promotions are hectic, Taeyong opens up about life outside of the spotlight, sharing, “I personally spent a lot of quality time with my family and also creating new music.” Mark has also been in tune with his rhythmic side, adding, “I’ve been listening to a lot of the new music that’s been coming out… Recently, Big Sean’s new album and Dominic Fike.”

The fashion of the group ranges from traditional Korean wear to modern hip-hop stylings, reflecting the merging of cultures, sounds, and themes apparent in their music. Lucas took a special liking to the outfits they wore for this comeback. “I wore a black outfit in the ‘One’ music video and it made me feel like a fictional character from a film or a book. I really liked the concept of that look. For ‘Tiger Inside’, I wore this beautiful emerald colour outfit with gold embroidery and intricate Asian-themed details—that was another one of my favourites!”

With everything going on in the world right now, Ten, the multilingual Thai singer and dancing king, says, “Right now, our biggest goal is to interact closely with our fans in the best way possible given the current situation. Even though we can’t meet each other in person, we want our fans to know that we are always thinking of them and that we are always trying to create opportunities to make us feel close.” He mentions ‘Beyond Live’, the platform SuperM spearheaded earlier this year to provide a virtual concert experience for fans.

“We are always thinking of fun and innovative ways to interact with our fans so we are definitely planning on doing many more online promotions that bring us closer together.” He elaborates, also sharing that he’s excited to finally perform songs off of Super One.

This album is a new era for SuperM, whose journey as a group has been far from ordinary but delightfully rewarding. As Baekhyun concludes, “When SuperM was first announced to the public, it may have been odd to see members from different groups come together like this to form a new group. But in spite of that, our fans have always cheered us on from the get-go and we’re incredibly grateful for their support.” SuperM’s awareness of the times they’re in and ability to adapt allow them to be a tantalizing force in the industry.

Though awards and accolades are nice, what makes this group special beyond their obvious talent and charm is the passion, grit, and hard work they put into what they do, and Super One is the ultimate care package and culmination of their gifts. Through music, they remind us that we all have the power to unite together as one no matter where we come from.

Ashlee Mitchell @ TMRW

#exo #baekhyun #kai #t: interview #album: super one #200923 #e: interview

20 notes · View notes

tangleweave · 3 years

Text

Rescue Me (RP)

@akasupergirl

“Help! Help! Someone help me!”

On the streets of Manhattan, it tended to be 6-to-5 and pick ‘em whether such a plea for assistance would actually be fulfilled. If there was a feature of the city to be counted upon, it was the indifference of the average New Yorker. But the odds were decidedly not in favor of the person issuing the cries, not least of which because he looked like some strange hybrid of man and frog… but also because five ornately armored bipedal figures were giving chase via various modes of transportation.

The diminutive target of the group’s ire was fleeing on foot in a general northerly direction. If he got perhaps another 70 blocks, he’d eventually make it to Stark Tower. He was, at the least, giving a good account of himself… his running speed easily matched that of an Olympic athlete, even dressed as he was in bulky, tattered clothing. It might have been more were his hands not bound behind him, and a flashing electronic collar not secured about his neck.

One would have been forgiven for thinking him a fugitive from justice, particularly in light of the five pursuers, whose armors looked strangely reminiscent of a variety of Iron Man configurations. The leading pursuer, in particular, was clad in armor of dark red and gold, festooned with silver spikes, and he was delivering terse instructions to his comrades. “Ramshot, Wysper, get ahead of him. Firearm, Screech, to the sides. I’ve got him from behind.”

“Sure you do.”

Anti-Venom landed atop the assailant’s shoulders before he had time to react, driving him fully into the concrete of the sidewalk. Passersby let out a plethora of colorful expressions and exclamations, none of which he had any time for. His left hand grew to gargantuan size and wrapped about the vigilante he’d just dropped, then slammed him against the nearest convenient brick wall – a narrow separator between a deli and a haberdashery.

“Sentry.” The ivory-skinned hulk snarled. “You and your Jury flunkies really ought to get a hobby besides pretending you have any authority to do what you do.”

“Screech! Get back—!”

“Ah-ah.” Anti-Venom’s other hand came up and delivered a hard slap to the side of Sentry’s head, completely disregarding the spikes there that tried to tear into the flesh of his palm, which simply liquefied and reformed. He pulled the dazed Jurist away from the wall and spun him around to face him. Anti-Venom’s grip kept Sentry’s arms pinned to his sides, and the red-orange glow of his eyes and mouth was reflected in the metal of his helmet. “You just wait right here. Some nice men in clean white coats will come get you directly.”

He thrust his arm out and smashed Sentry into the wall again, back-first, this time leaving him wrapped up in a tight cocoon of white bio-mass that was far stronger than any webbing his red-and-blue counterpart had ever demonstrated.

Anti-Venom launched himself into the air, vaulting in the direction of the distressed hostage the Jury had taken. He was already depressed by the possibilities. When last he’d encountered them, it had been as Venom, and their leader – Gavel – had been quite clear as to the reason for their formation: his escape from the Life Foundation’s Vault had led to the death of their family members. Tragedy and a thirst for vengeance had been their unifying theme, their singular call… but they’d failed to capture and hold him long enough to deliver the sentence they so dearly wanted to visit upon him.

That he was no longer Venom now probably wouldn’t matter much to them if they were still united in that purpose. Eddie Brock’s alter-ego wasn’t well-known (thankfully for his career) but the Jury knew of it. When he’d fled to San Francisco, he’d given them reason to think he was dead, and he’d done his level best to keep things quiet – until the Mister Negative incident, and his transformation into something very different. It was something of a minor miracle they hadn’t tried to come after him upon his return to New York and his attempt to resume some semblance of a normal life… though it wasn’t unreasonable to think Kara might be throwing him a little cover.

But who was the fleeing captive, and what did they want with him?

Two Jurists – Ramshot and Screech – were already between him and the captive. Judging by the smell trailing behind the green-skinned stranger, Anti-Venom figured he was probably a Morlock. It was a little too easy to forget about New York’s sewer-swelling mutant population, driven underground because their appearances were too grotesque for society to tolerate. Anti-Venom knew better than most what that sort of living was like… in two words, unduly harsh. This man certainly didn’t need people like these making it any harder.

Ramshot’s jet-boots were carrying him ever closer to their original target, while Screech had already turned to engage Anti-Venom. An earsplitting sonic scream erupted from speakers mounted on the Jurist’s helmet and armor, focused into narrow channels for maximum effect against a Klyntar symbiote.

Anti-Venom snarled through the wash of noise, raised an enlarged fist, and swept it into Screech with virtually no regard for his attack. The blasts would have shattered Venom, but against Anti-Venom, they were little more than a nuisance. His strike tossed Screech into a nearby lamppost, which snapped off entirely from the force of the impact.

Civilians were actively fleeing the area now, and with good cause. Amidst the warble of shrieking and the rumbling of fleeing feet, he could make out the Jury members re-orienting their efforts around him rather than their first target. In that moment, he knew he had only seconds to act. By attempting to help, he’d drawn their eye, and if he didn’t help their target get away within the next few moments, they’d both be under attack.

He threw himself down the street and hurtled into Ramshot, whose jet-powered boots were just about to carry him to the fleeing frog-man, despite the poor captive’s best (and impressive) efforts to run. Anti-Venom grabbed hold of Ramshot with both hands, his black fangs smiling wide for the Jurist.

“Hi.”

He swung his weight around to disrupt Ramshot’s center of gravity and threw out a spread of tentacles to catch about a traffic light. The Jurist’s flight was thrown horribly by the shifting dynamics and the grip Anti-Venom’s tendrils had on Ramshot’s ankle was such that when the jets pulled him taut, the sound of his foot disjointing was audible. The Jurist belted out a scream of pain and collapsed to the ground beneath Anti-Venom, who quickly jumped to his feet and leapt after the Morlock; he cast forth another tendril to catch about the frog-man’s waist and pull him up into the air.

The Morlock screamed – and after all, why wouldn’t he? – as Anti-Venom caught him in midair and swung hard and fast through the district. By peeling away three of the five Jurists, he had a wide swath of escape routes to the east… if only the Morlock would stop struggling.

“Calm down,” he snarled. “I’m here to help.”

The Morlock whimpered. “You’re… you’re not with them?”

Anti-Venom glared red at his passenger. “Do I look like I’m with them?” he returned. “Hang tight, I’m getting you out of here. What do they want with you?”

“They’re the Jury!” the Morlock cried, as if that offered explanation.

“I know who they are,” Anti-Venom snapped, careening hard around a corner. “Why are they after you?”

“They’ve been trying to round us up out of the sewers! They came into our territory claiming they had jurisdiction and were charging us with vagrancy! Got these collars on a bunch of us before we even knew what was happening! The others managed to help me get out but they’re still trapped – they need help! I thought if I got to the surface…!”

“That you’d find an X-Man or an Avenger and they’d help you out,” Anti-Venom finished. He rolled his eyes behind his living mask. “So sorry you’re stuck with me, then. Hold on…”

Spiked tentacles erupted from his back as he continued to swing fast and hard to elude their pursuit; the tendrils set about the task of tearing into the hand-sheaths and the collar. The Jury’s technology had clearly lost none of its potency – no more than they themselves had lost business dealings with anti-meta corporations, he mused. Even against the strength of his reversed symbiote the shackles were a considerable challenge to break, and it was in no way helpful when the Morlock bucked and squirmed in his hold while he sent tentacles to snap the collar without also snapping the poor victim’s neck.

A crimson energy blast sizzled past them both, causing the Morlock to shriek and Anti-Venom to momentarily glance back. Firearm had caught up with them – he was astride a hover bike and he was already releasing a flurry of variable ammunition at them. Missed shots were peppering buildings and windows.

“Not inside the city!” Anti-Venom roared in irritation. Goddamn it, they had the nerve to complain about vigilante property destruction but the moment they themselves did it…

He shot one more look to his passenger. “All right, listen, what’s your name?”

“A-Arthur,” the timid mutant stammered.

“Arthur, I’m gonna to need to drop you off, and then I need you to get below, fast as you can. I’ll deal with the Jury, if they’re up here they aren’t down there. Get to Stark Tower. Help is there.”

“S-Stark Tower?” The frog-man’s eyes bugged out even further than their natural disposition. “You mean where Supergirl lives?”

“Right. Where Supergirl lives.” He felt himself wincing – this guy was in the middle of a traumatic episode, he wouldn’t even absorb more than the first five words he spoke in any given sentence. He probably only vaguely understood what was about to happen. “Listen, Arthur, this is important. Are you listening?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Good. Listen close. Tell Supergirl, ‘Eddie’s in trouble.’ Say it back to me.”

“Uhh… um, Eddie’s in trouble!” The Morlock frowned. “Who’s Eddie?”

Yep, traumatic episode. He wasn’t putting it together and Anti-Venom wasn’t about to do the math for him. “Never mind that. Just tell her that. Understand? Eddie’s in trouble. Got it?”

“Got it! Eddie’s in trouble!”

“Good. Here we go. Three-two-one!”

The rapid countdown wasn’t quite enough time for the poor Morlock to prepare to be dumped off, and the frog-like mutant shrieked as Anti-Venom released him to tumble in a heap in a wide alleyway. But the white symbiote-clad vigilante had, at least, deposited Arthur next to a sewer entrance – whose manhole cover he immediately tore from its sconce. Arthur was, thankfully, quick on the draw and leapt headfirst into the hole, proof positive that either he knew where he was going or he was truly desperate to escape his captors.

Hopefully both, Anti-Venom thought, as Firearm and Wysper, riding a hover board, arrived on scene to engage him. He swung the manhole cover about on a loose tentacle like a deranged yo-yo and was able to smash into Firearm’s bike engine, forcing him to dismount before the vehicle crashed in a fiery blaze.

A sustained laser beam erupted from one of Firearm’s weapons – Anti-Venom held up the manhole cover to deflect the energy blast but the lid soon became orange-hot and too much for him to handle. He snarled and slammed it down atop the open manhole before any of the Jury could think to descend into it.

If Screech was adequately named, Wysper was even more so – there was some trick of her technology that made it possible to suppress sound within the immediate area. Anti-Venom was abruptly disoriented without his sense of audition, and he was pummeled by a pair of energy blasts that drove him to his knees.

He whipped a scythe-like tentacle towards his attackers, but it appeared Firearm and Wysper both had achieved their stride, and they dodged the attack with apparent ease. Firearm brought his rifle up again, and this time what emerged wasn’t red – it was ice blue, and to Anti-Venom’s skin it felt like frozen fire trying to insinuate into his veins. The arm that caught the beam blackened almost instantly, and the armor of the reversed symbiote fell away, revealing Eddie’s all-too-human arm at half the length beneath it.

Damn it, they’d figured him out fast. Way too fast. Fire and sound didn’t hurt him anymore, but cold and silence…?

He brought his other arm up, expanding the ivory skin outward to create as broad a shield as he could muster. It would last all of two seconds against a weapon like that, but maybe it was two seconds he could use to conjure some other solution…

What happened in the seconds that followed seemed little more than a haze of pain and fury for him. Sentry arrived, with Ramshot and Screech approaching only moments thereafter, and suddenly the alley didn’t seem so wide anymore. Anti-Venom was thrown about from one Jurist to the next, one awful, disabling strike after another, bits and pieces of him falling away with every blow. If they’d been cops, SWAT, even military, they wouldn’t have been able to penetrate the symbiote skin – but the Jury had developed their weaponry very carefully, and a precision freeze ray aimed at Anti-Venom’s leg froze him in a block of ice from ankle to thigh, joining solidly to the ground beneath him.

Ramshot drove a hydraulic punch into the side of Anti-Venom’s head, knocking the white symbiote flesh away from nearly half his face – the pained scowl that followed was with one eye of glowing red and one of blue.

Sentry stepped forward and grabbed Anti-Venom about the neck with one hand. The glowing eyepieces of the Jurist’s helmet seemed to narrow at the vigilante… but if he spoke, it was consumed by Wysper’s noise suppression.

Anti-Venom stared at his attacker in defiance. Go ahead, he thought. Let’s see you make a difference. I already made mine.

#akasupergirl #muse: anti-venom #long post cw #violence tw #{ cut for length and triggers }

1 note · View note

slo-liveblog · 4 years

Text

Witch’s Heart: Bonus Stage Final Thoughts

Hello hello! Honestly I can’t believe I finished Bonus Stage after all this time... took me quite a few months, oof. Many thanks to the handful of you that stuck around during all that, and to the few new people who popped in too! Hope you’ve all been taking care of yourselves, and don’t mind the long post.

CHARACTERS

Claire: After finishing the first game, I didn’t know it was possible to love Claire even more. I was absolutely wrong. The way she took charge at the end was incredibly powerful and I’m so fucking proud of her, even if it’s sad as hell. I really really like how the game both criticizes and respects her unconditional empathy, I think there’s definitely room for both conversations and they’re both incredibly fascinating. I do think she suffers from some of the most writing pitfalls out of everyone, though. Like I said while playing, there’s really no reason given why she wouldn’t confide in Leon, or at least acknowledge that he’s likely the person there she can trust most. In addition, I found it really bizarre that Claire just... never tried to talk to Reynaldo or Sirius after learning about their pasts. Like, at all. I understand why the emphasis on Ashe was important, but it was jarring and kind of unsatisfying to see Claire act so uncharacteristically by not even really acknowledging them after their stories were over. It’s more of a story problem than a character problem though, I think, and I understand why it had to be that way especially considering the conclusions will touch on a lot of the missing pieces- I just wish there could’ve been more of a justification for it. The way her personality was explored through her interactions with everyone, and how other characters were depicted based on their reactions to her ideals, was incredible and I would die for her.

Ashe: Oh Ashe. Fuck Ashe. I do appreciate the depth given to his character, he’s definitely far more complex than I expected and kudos on that. I don’t really empathize with him as much as I do the other four mains, but I do think his writing is incredible and his relationships with Leon and Claire continue to be some of the most interesting to see play out, if not THE most interesting. Star shaped carrots man. Fucked up. Super excited to see how his dynamics with everyone continue, and he’s probably the character I’m the most interested to see make decisions going into these conclusions. His arc feels the most... unfinished, he’s never really reached any sort of closure at any point of the story so far and especially not bonus stage so it’ll be cool to see where he ends up.

Reynaldo: MY BOY. I’M SO FUCKING PROUD OF HIM... going into bonus stage my expectations for him were pretty much rock bottom from the moment I realized he didn’t have a single line in the opening scene outside of saying his name. Like, I kinda made my peace with the possibility that the writer just wasn’t that interested in developing him, and would rather spend time on the rest of the mains. But holy SHIT did he pull through in the second half of the game. The subtle but noticeable build to him deciding to side with Claire was so, so well done. I still wish there was a little more solidity to his characterization- I do have to reach way further to understand him than I do any of the other mains- but I think what we DID get for him was wonderful and god, I appreciate him so much. Definitely the character that improved the most for me from the first game to bonus stage. I can’t wait for his conclusion, here’s to hoping we do in fact get it this year. The way his similarities with Claire were set up makes me SO excited to see how their relationship develops when it’s actually the focus, and how he’ll be fleshed out more in general so we can finally have a clearer picture. Because to be honest, as much as I like the development he was given in bonus stage... there’s still a LOT of gaps to fill in with him.

Sirius: continues to be the perfect human being 1000000/10

Leon: Sweet baby boy whose expressions always make me cry. Leon is still a character I’m sort of on the fence on. Like, he’s very well written and easy to sympathize with. But I realized I’m always far more interested in how OTHER characters react to HIM than the other way around, though. He’s not really a character I personally would find interesting in general, he’s a little simple for my tastes, but that doesn’t mean I’m not 100% invested in seeing him end up happy... eventually. Something tells me it might be a while.

Charlotte: I feel like Charlotte definitely got the short end of the stick in bonus stage, moreso than any other character. Her only memorable scenes that I can think of off the top of my head were when she told Leon he could kill everyone but Claire, when she thought about how Ashe probably can’t be saved, and when she reacted to Claire after the completion of Ashe’s backstory. None of those scenes even come close to hitting the same level of intrigue or emotion as the sparse Charlotte scenes had in the first game, even if that last one does have some interesting bits in it. I said at the end of the first game that we’d only really scratched the surface and I was interested to see more from her and, well, my opinion hasn’t changed. I don’t think there was much I would’ve wanted out of her here anyway unlike the boys, so I’m not especially disappointed. Just hoping we get more excellent Charlotte moments somewhere down the line.

Zizel: I would’ve liked Zizel’s deal to be... a bit more built upon, to be honest? I could just have missed things along the way, but her triumphant moment is a little harder to get in to when we know almost nothing about her or the way she thinks beyond stuff reveled about her in the same scene. I could definitely see that her siding with Claire was being foreshadowed, but I think there needed to be juuust a bit more characterization given to her for that particular development to have the impact it seemed to be going for. Still, it was a good moment, and I think it definitely made up for a lot of the sore lack of Zizel in both games. Can’t wait to see what she does from here.

Lime: Goddddd. Okay look, I still love Lime probably more than I reasonably should. She’s wonderful and I love her design and her personality and her backstory and her motivations but... yea she’s a very very bad person. Bonus stage did really make it clear that she’s not just lashing out occasionally, and this isn’t anywhere near harmless teasing. She’s full on the primary villain of the game, in some ways, and has been doing pretty horrific stuff knowing (and intending for) exactly what she’s causing. Which we sort of knew in the first game anyway, but now it’s very explicit. And like, damn dude... I do wanna see what’s gonna happen with her. It’s tough, wanting to see a character get their comeuppance and stop hurting others while simultaneously just wanting good things for them. this really is how y’all ashe stans feel huh

Side Characters: I gotta say, I really loved a lot of the smaller characters introduced in bonus stage and the way their presence added to the development of the mains. Dorothy and Nicholas, the old dude and the thief woman (I didn’t actually realize until just now but nobody in Wilbert’s backstory had a name, huh. It may not have been intentional but considering that he might literally just not remember that far back I actually really like that decision.), and Ashe’s family and friends were really smartly integrated into the story’s themes and I appreciated that a lot. also lucy and coco rights

Overall This one gets a fucking 10/10 from me chief, some small issues certainly but as close to perfect as they get, in terms of the kinds of stories I like.

STORY

I debated breaking this up into chunks, like I did in the first game with the scenarios, but I feel like the writing quality is more or less consistent throughout the game so it would be a little redundant. I definitely need more time to think on bonus stage before I have a really solid opinion, but at the moment I kind of think the story was even better than the first game? My only major issue was the aforementioned use of Claire’s character, where she’d only really react to the boy’s backstories as she finished hearing them, with the exception of Ashe’s. And her not confiding in Leon. But other than that, it was a constant rollercoaster, with pretty much every scene being jam packed with 3000 layers of character development and relationship building with lore sprinkled in. The elements that were amazing in the first game, like the fun dynamics between the characters and the subtle and unobtrusive exposition, are nothing but improved upon. I do wish we got to play more with the idea of the demon girls living alongside the mains, I think that aspect was severely downplayed almost immediately after it was introduced, but I’m crossing my fingers those potential dynamics get some time in the conclusions. Once again, my biggest gripes with the story are just that I feel like there’s so much more to explore and I can’t wait to see how the rest plays out. still giving this bitch a 10/10 on this one it was everything I wanted and more

GAMEPLAY

Combat: This was kind of... not even really utilized in bonus stage, which I didn’t actually realize until just now. There weren’t any real “boss battles” in the way there were in the first game, the closest thing to it would I guess be Dorothy’s showdown. Considering I didn’t even notice, I think that was a perfectly fine decision. The climax worked well without any actual fights. The battle mechanics continued to be functional and everything, just... not much of a thing.

Demon Requests: It could just be because I played a lot of bonus stage at a very different pace than I did the first game but the demon requests didn’t feel as frequent or intrusive this time around. I was always really excited to get to the request portion anyway cause of the photo booth and all the cool new areas, I had a super fun time using the deep sea bubble and I think overall the stuff that was added to the fantasy spaces was really neat. also lucy and coco rights

Minigames: Very hit or miss. It felt like the minigames were either so quick and easy they were hardly memorable or so tedious they made me wanna die. Take that with a grain of salt, though, I’m really bad at video games. There were very few of them anyway so it doesn’t matter much, but I guess it would’ve been nice if the minigames were less... Like that. To be fair, they were all still pretty charming or cool conceptually. Can’t really complain about getting to fucking shoot people as Dorothy even if it was hell to play.

Overall The demon requests were actually really enjoyable this time around, but the minigames and combat were kind of downplayed. Not to big of a deal, though, it’s not as if they were a focal point of the game to begin with. 7/10

ART & SOUND

Character Design: Not much to say that I didn’t already say after the first game, but the special bonus stage outfits are absolute bangers and I wish they got shown more often. And maybe I would’ve liked the guys to have a little more variety to their suits. But that’s nitpicking, Claire and the demon girl’s dresses are absolutely gorgeous.

Sprites and BGs: The overall art quality definitely got shaky in places but I gotta say, they pulled out ALL the stops for the sprites in this one. Ashe just fully has an entirely new set of them, and everybody else gets tons of new expressions too, all of which are super super good at conveying incredibly specific emotions. All I’m saying is, this would be a totally different game for me without the sprites, and I was always ecstatic to see new ones and figure out what was going on in the character’s head based on them.

OST and Sound Effects: Again, pretty much the same deal as the first game. I think there was a bit of a higher frequency for songs that made me immediately want to search for them so I could listen to them later though, thank god for that. So many good tracks.

Overall Continued to impress me, and then some. Only a slight improvement from the first game, in my opinion, but even that is pretty impressive since I didn’t have many issues with the first game to begin with. 8/10

So uh, in other words, I really really loved this game. Cannot WAIT to start best boy’s conclusion!!!

#witchs heart #slo reviews #slo talks #LETS GOO

9 notes · View notes

willow-salix · 4 years

Text

Thought I'd share one of my isolation updates. I haven't had much time to join in with the #irrelief of @gumnut-logic because of these so I decided to go down the list and try to fit some of the requested prompts into this series of shorts. This is the one that I think Nutty requested, fish and chips on the beach. If anyone wants to give me some prompts or things they want the boys to do during lockdown, please feel free to send them in. The rest can be read on Ao3.

Day 47 of isolation on Tracy Island and I walked into the kitchen to find a bowl of fish staring at me.

"New pets?" I asked Gordon.

"If they are I really should have looked after them better," he answered, poking at the ice that they sat on. "We went fishing this morning."

"I never would have guessed."

"We thought we could have a fish dinner on the beach tonight, you know, barbie and beer, it'll be the best fish you've ever tasted."

I made a face. "I'm not really a big fish fan, I prefer them battered and wrapped in paper, not judging me for wanting another cup of coffee."

"You don't like fish?" You'd swear I'd just told him I hate puppies.

I shrugged.

"You have to like fish."

"What, is that a law now? The law of the island?"

"Yes."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm gonna be breaking some laws then, bub." I pushed the bowl aside with a shudder of disgust and reached for the coffee pot.

"Come on, live a little, just try them."

"So when you ask me to try something I'm supposed to agree but I ask you to eat a Yorkshire pudding and you pitch a fit."

"Thats different."

"Why?"

"Because you've heard of a fish."

I tried to argue his logic but it was really hard, so as I always do in cases like this, I went on the defensive.

"Nope, batter and chips or nothing."

"Chips? Why would you eat chips with fish?"

"Because you do. With salt and vinegar on them."

"Won't they get soggy? And what flavour?"

"Flavour?" my brain whirled for a second before I caught his meaning. "Not crisps, chips, like fries, but fat ones."

He still looked baffled but pulled himself together. "OK, how about we do both? You make your battered stuff and your weird fries and I'll do my grilled fish and we'll see what's the best."

I thought about it for a moment or two, then held out my hand. "You're on."

“You have to help prepare them though,"he threw in just as he grabbed mine and shook.

“What? No!”

“The deal is struck,” the little sod grinned. Dammit.

Half an hour of convincing later and he had me standing beside him with a fish of my own and a sharp knife, neither of which I particularly wanted.

“So first we’re gonna scrape all the scales off, using the tip and flat edge of our knife,” he got to work, rubbing at the fish as if he were shaving it. Just like doing my legs, I could do that.

“I don’t want skin on my fish, I reminded him, not if it's gonna be battered.”

“We’ll get to that later, just get the scales off first.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, but did as I was told. We had some kitchen towel wrapped around the fish’s tail which made it a lot easier to hold but it was still icky and I knew the worst was still to come.

Gordon rinsed his under the tap and took a pair of kitchen scissors, I followed.

“Right, see this hole here?” he pointed with the tip of the scissors and I nodded. “That’s its butt. Stick your scissors in there-”

“I’m out!” I declared, dropping the fish in the sink. “Nope, I’d rather lose, but you know full well that no one else would blame me so you wouldn't get any glory from it anyway.”

I left the kitchen and went to hide with someone that would be nicer to me. I found Virgil first and decided he’d do. I flumped down next to him at the piano.

“You smell,” he greeted me.

“Thanks, love you too.”

“No, not you personally, you smell like fish.”

“Gordon tried to get me to poke its bum hole so I left.”

Virgil blinked, although he managed not to mess up, his fingers still dancing effortlessly over the keys, “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“Neither did I, so I noped out of the situation and ran.”

“Good choice. He’ll end up doing yours for you anyway, he always does. He can’t stand to see fish prepared wrong so if you don't want to do it, just do it badly and then he’ll take over.”

“Pro tip!” I nodded. “Thanks for that.”

“Welcome.”

I reached out a finger to plonk a key, because it was just too tempting.

“Go wash your hands, you aren’t stinking up my piano.”

I lifted my hands up innocently. “Think he’ll be done yet?”

“Probably, he’s pretty quick at it, but I’d give it anoth-”

“Stop hiding, I’ve finished the fish,” Gordon called up the stairs to the lounge.

“See?”

“Woop!” I jumped back up, using his shoulder as leverage , much to his disgust. “We’re having a competition.”

“Of course you are, but if it involves food I’ll happily judge.”

I did that pointy finger, winky eye, clicky tongue thing in answer as I trotted back down the stairs.

True to his word he had the fish all prepared, he’d even fileted and skinned mine. He might be a pain in the butt most days but he was a good boy where it counted.

“I need beer,” I announced.

“Is the thought of touching fish really that bad? It’s only 2pm.”

“For the batter,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Why does everyone think I want to drink all day every day? I’m only drinking on a saturday night for the quiz.”

“Because it's fun to watch you get annoyed when we say it,” he shrugged. See? He’s a sod.

I stole one of his beers for that comment, and after checking the recipe, assembled my ingredients and began to mix flour, beer, sparkling water, spices and baking powder.

“So you're basically making a cake for your fish?” Virgil asked, wandering through to get a drink.

“No, I’m battering it, you cretin. Fish and chips, the english food of summer and beach trips. Squidward wanted fish on the beach, that's what you're getting.”

“She means fries,” Gordon added just in case Virgil didnt understand me either. “I’m doing grilled fish and vegetable kebabs.”

“Wanna help me peel potatoes?” I asked Virgil, who was the quickest peeler I knew.

“Sure.” Bless his chonky heart, he’s always ready to help, especially if food is involved.

Virgil peeled and I chopped, making a mound of fat chips which I threw into a pot of water to par-boil ready for frying later.

Gordon had barely done anything to his fish, just rubbed some seasoning and oil into the skins and laid some lemon slices on top. Apparently simple was key, I told him that was a good thing if he was in charge. He threw a slice of lemon at me.

We stored all the prepared food in the second fridge and wandered off to wait for evening.

At around seven that night we had everyone assembled outside, some around the barbecue and some just lounging around waiting to be fed.

They had one of those fancy pants grills that have two gas rings on one side, which was needed for me to heat up two massive pans of oil. I had a flashback to the donut incident and was very grateful that Grandma wasn't involved this time and that she hadn’t fed me cooking sherry.

I had a few near misses with splattering oil and it took me a while to get the dip and slip action just right ( that was what I was calling the dipping in batter to coat the fish and then letting it slip and slide into the oil) but we got there in the end.

The chips were frying nicely and we’d managed to get vinegar from a jar of pickled onions, which was perfect for me as I prefer onion vinegar on my chips anyway.

Gordon had these weird fish cages, where he trapped the fish inside and just turned the whole thing to cook the other side instead of flipping.

It was supposed to be a competition but since it was just the two of us I obviously hadn’t triggered his competitive Tracy gene which is only activated in the presence of his siblings. It was actually quite nice to chill with him for a bit, we got into a nice rhythm and managed not to get in each others way too much.

When he was busy with his fish and his veggie kababs were getting a little too charred I turned them all for him, he in turn rescued a batch of chips as I had my hands covered in batter. See, we could be civilised.

We dished out food like it was a canteen, everyone lining up with plates. We didn't want people to have to choose whose food they wanted to try so we gave them some of everything and then all trooped down to the beach where Scott and Virgil had already lit the firepit.

Gordon's fish was ok, but I didn't like the fact that it still looked like a fish, its eyes were staring at me and I was plucking around its bones, which just wasn't for me, but the veggie kebabs were nice so I gave Scott the fish to finish.

I looked over to see Alan holding the entire piece of battered fillet in his hand and biting into it like it was a slice of pizza...I honestly don't know how his brain works sometimes.

“Back home we have tiny wooden forks for the fish and chips,” I told him, which blew his mind. I had to get my phone out and show him pictures of them.

“So, who’s fish was the best?” Gordon asked once everyone was done eating, although Alan was still doing his impression of the seagulls from Nemo and snaffling left overs with little yelps of “Mine” every time someone abandoned a plate. I was currently feeding him chips as he sat patiently with his mouth open.

“I like them both,” Jeff hedged. “But the beer batter was interesting.”

“Batter is a little too crispy for my tastes,” John mused, nibbling on a piece of batter he’d picked off my plate.

“I like the fat fries,” Alan mumbled around a mouthful of said chips.

“I liked the lemony taste of the fish,” Virgil added.

“So who won?” I asked.

Everyone shrugged.

We decided in the end that we didn't care who won, it had just been fun to cook and hang out on the beach and chill. Sometimes that's all you need in life, sorry we weren't more exciting but this is just a normal family that is coping with things the way that everyone else is.

They want to be out there helping people and doing things like normal, but they can't and it’s definitely starting to impact on them a lot, so if chilled days and enforced rest is all we can do, then were going to make the most of it.

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #self isolating #social isolation #isolation

22 notes · View notes

qm-vox · 5 years

Text

Hunter: the Vigil - Left-Beef Deliveries

There is a Domino's Pizza in Lenawee County, Michigan, that is open for 24 hours. They don’t get a lot of business after 1 AM or so, though of course you’ve got the stoners and the late-shifters, the early-shifters up before they have to be or the drunks up past when they oughta be the fuck down, but what this joint does get is a lot of calls just like this one:

“I need a none pizza with left beef at Needle Lane Farms.” The voice - a young man’s - is shaking, cut up with ragged breathing and forced into the kind of low, insistent volume one does not associate with shitposting in real life. “M-mind the dogs. They’re loose. Please, we need it right away!”

Our Heroine here at the Domino’s is a thirty-four-year-old lass by the name of Cheryl. Her voice isn’t right for this sorta call either; when she answers it’s in a calm, steady tone, full of compassion and surety: “You kids need to stop with these prank calls. Someone’s gonna do something about it.”

Then Cheryl hangs up the store phone, having put in no order (and how could she, with no payment information) and does two things at the same time: hit a contact on her cell, and call up the address information for Needle Lane Farms in the company’s system. Did you know that a pizza place can often find addresses that 911 dispatch centers can’t? Cheryl certainly does. It’s why she works the graveyard shift.

The person on the other end of the cell call picks up on the second ring. “Deliveries,” they answer, their voice clipped and sure.

“Needle Lane Farms,” Cheryl replies immediately. “Load for wolves and wounded. Standby for directions.”

At a country house far from town (as the natives think of it) and also right next to it (as the map thinks of it), four other people haul themselves out of bed while the woman on the phone with Cheryl writes down a set of directions. They grab shotguns and pistols, ammunition for both, flares, first-aid kits, airhorns, and flashbangs of the kind civilians are not supposed to have, pile into a dented van, and go tearing off into the night. There’s a little Domino’s logo parked on top of the van, a sign to the ticket-hungry cops prowling the dead shifts that if they want to keep their discounts friendly, they need to keep their mitts off the people inside.

* * * *

Needle Lane Farms is a fairly successful, family-owned farm in Lenawee County. They’re big supporters of local farmer’s markets, and their owners and employees can often be found as guest speakers in various high schools around the county, talking about ethically-sourced food and the complex moral choices involved in one’s choice to be vegan, vegetarian, or not. None of that is relevant to the events that follow except insofar as no one involved quite did anything to deserve this. Needle Lane rather unfortunately entered the sight of a group of eco-fascists from Canada that migrated across the lakes to stake a new claim after being...

...Evicted, let’s say...

From their previous arrangements. When they made their displeasure known in the form of slaughtered livestock and destroyed tools, fences, and vehicles, and the cops rather suspiciously turned up nothing, Needle Lane turned to the Lower Michigan Paranormal Investigation Society, three young men and one young woman with a camera who See The Unseen(tm).

One of those young men is currently dead, or at least he’d better be. His head is in the fork of a tree branch, a good thirteen feet from his body, which has deep claw wounds ripping it up just in case decapitation stopped killing humans in the last forty-five seconds.

Our eco-fascists, currently exhibiting the latest fall fashion line from Things That Should Not Be by being eight-and-a-half-foot wolf-men with, say, man-shredding and head-throwing claws, are quite enjoying their introduction to the LMPIS, which is going swimmingly for them. The young woman (Alicia) is proving somewhat troublesome; she’s in the loft of a barn with a seemingly unlimited supply of pepper spray. One of the young men (James) is in the house, on the phone, but the police won’t come here, not after the problems the owners started with the department last year. The last young man (Brad), a fifth-year senior who’s starting to think he should have been studying instead of looking into whatever ended up with him being stalked by god damn werewolves, is fleeing down the driveway towards the main road, shrieking in terror. One of the pack bounds after him, savoring the fear of his prey.

It is this werewolf who first greets Left-Beef Deliveries by getting hit by their van at sixty miles an hour. Bones and the front hood of the van crunch and crumple, and the werewolf goes flying under the old beater’s wheels to the tune of further breaks from being run over. The van skids to a halt, and the moment it’s slow enough the side doors open up and the four people kicked out of their bed by Cheryl’s call and their leader’s insistence go spilling out. Two run down the crushed werewolf as he tries to get up; one, a mousy young man whose ‘just pulled out of a locker’ vibe is being seriously impacted by the double-barrel in his hands, unloads into the werewolf’s center of mass.

Did you know that silver shot melts in sufficiently modern firearms, due to how hot the powder burns and how fast the rounds move? Our young man, Nathaniel Briggs, certainly does, which is why the antique piece of shit he’s using blows an absolute fucking crater in the werewolf instead of punching a neat hole like a better gun might. His battle-buddy next to him, Greta Miller, sweeps the road with a pistol and flashlight while Nathan double-taps the mass of fur and muscle he’s already killed.

In the barn, the sound of gunshots distracts the two werewolves who are trying to figure out how best to menace Alicia. This informs them of two valuable pieces of information. The first is that there are new enemies on the field, who are armed. The second is that Alicia seems to be wholly immune to the aura of maddening terror they usually use against humans; the moment their heads move aside, she pops out of hiding and nails both with a long stream of pepper spray from the canister she’s holding. They flee from the barn, howling in pain and terror, directly into the raised shotgun & pistol of Left Beef’s other sleep-deprived van members: Tess & Sally, the former a brick shithouse of a woman who catches the falling body of her prey in one hand without dropping her shotgun, the latter more resembling what happens when you try to make a Keebler elf edgy.

Two members of the pack remain standing, and when they see the fifth of Left-Beef’s crew - the older woman who took Cheryl’s call, and who is now lifting a bolt-action rifle to her shoulder - they flee into the night, howling in outrage.

After a moment, the van’s driver lowers her rifle and calls for a sweep-and-clear. She slings her weapon across her back, unholsters a pistol from her belt, and starts rounding up LMPIS’s survivors. Both of the young men are wounded, but will live; Alicia is unharmed, and vibrates with a barely-restrained and eminently inadvisable rage.

“W-we owe you one,” James stammers, as his rescuer examines the long, shallow claw marks down his back. “None of the owners even woke up...”

The older woman makes a noncomittal sound. “They do that. And wolves aren’t the only ones that do. I’m Elena, and we’ll all be talking after sunrise.”

Alicia perks her head up. “About?”

“The much more than ‘one’ you idiots owe me.”

#hunter: the vigil #world of darkness #fanfic #violence #horror elements #gun #knives

17 notes · View notes

loveceit · 5 years

Text

i’m just. gonna ramble a bit about my feelings about the sides. based on personal experience/my past.

patton: he’s a dad who puns and that’s just not a good combination for me?? like it feels really stupid but i have a really hard time with puns. it’s like a combination of things: my brother and stepfather both do awful puns, usually wordplay or taking something literal. some, i understand, some i don’t. i don’t pun a lot myself because it’s not how my mind works. i just react negatively to puns and it makes no goddamn sense to me either but i do and that’s that. and then the whole being a loving dad thing. i have had three dad’s in my life, so to speak. my actual dad, my brothers’ dad (my former step-father), and my current step-father. my own dad? nice guy. too social for me. i stopped talking to him when i was like 15 because i just couldn’t deal with him and his family (his girlfriend and her two children, both older than me). also he was the first one to suggest i was autistic and that was a whole thing. he also uses my deadname the few times i go with him to his parents, so yeah. like he tries but he hasn’t really known me since i was a kid and there’s just a whole mess of feelings, like i’ve dealt a lot with feeling like a shitty kid because i’m happy without him but he was never actually bad. which brings me to my brothers’ dad who was actually bad. like he was okay for the first eight years but then my youngest brother was born and he was just not good. lot of shit i won’t go into but it barely felt like he was living with us because he was always locked into his office, and he hit my youngest brother at least once, and there was a lot of screaming. i can’t be upside down (so many roller coasters i will never try) because he used to lift me upside down, there’s a swedish kids song that is triggering because he used to sing it, and he was the first one to joke about eating my pet bunny and now i can’t stand any mentions of eating rabbits, even if it’s fictional. my current step-father is the best, but there has been a lot of screaming with him too, and he takes things too literal at times, and he’s the one who cooks. like i’ve been paranoid making dinner because he could walk up behind me and comment on my cooking. like he usually compliments my cooking but he’s pretty particular about stuff like how to clean the kitchen and i’m an anxious mess. also he had rules like “be up before 10am, no breakfast after 10 am” and he was on us a lot about going outside even though we had moved to like the middle of nowhere at that point. anyway the combination of all this: a good dad who don’t know me, a step-father that turned into an asshole (tbh he was an asshole the whole time, but like, from my perspective he was okay until i turned 8) and sung this stupid fucking song about erasing your frowny face and smiling instead, and a step-father that makes food and can joke and is nice most of the time (he’s way better now that only my youngest brother lives with him and mum) just makes me feel bad vibes from patton. i have a much easier time seeing him as unsympathetic.

logan: honestly the only bad thing about logan is when he suddenly screams falsehood without warning because that puts me on edge a lot. i don’t do sudden noises, especially not sudden raised voices. but like i can relate to not knowing modern slang or memes because i don’t either. but logan also reminds me a bit of my brother with the whole being compared to a robot thing and uh i have a complicated relationship with my brother as in we’re close enough that we’ve been yelled at for holding hands and had mutual friends make incest jokes which is fucked up, and i like vent to him a lot just because i can trust him to not get emotional, like i called him when i was suicidal and he calculated the math for what would happen if i jumped from my balcony. so like i like logan because i can relate to him a bit and he reminds me of my brother who is like my safe person in my family, but my brother is also the one who can’t understand why i care about society’s opinion and we’ve argued a lot about that because hey i’m a transdude whose mental health is impacted by misgendering and my brother can’t understand that because he’s detached from society in a way that i’m not. and logan doesn’t seem to care about society either so like i can see him being unsympathetic too but i don’t want to, just like i don’t want to fight with my brother.

deceit: because i was talking about society. and deceit cares about society’s opinion. and i can just really see where he’s coming from. i never had any internalised homophobia/biphobia or anything, and i came out to mum as a lesbian and then as bi without a second thought, but coming out as trans was a whole other deal (i got kicked out, and my friend could only put me up for a month, so i was forced to move back in and get misgendered because i didn’t have the means for an apartment at the time). i can just. really related to having to be selfish sometimes for your own wellbeing, and keeping secrets because you don’t know how people will react. he has a lot of good points. and like i relate to him not being listened to (see my arguments w my brother).

virgil: i have anxiety and depression and i’ve been suicidal and i can relate to virgil, especially when he sides with logan. i have a lot harder time liking him when he sides with patton. and i know anxiety doesn’t always make logical sense, and anxiety can be a real bitch, and virgil does have a mean streak. i like virgil, but i don’t like virgil when he takes patton’s side, and i don’t like prinxiety as a concept because when my mental health declines, my creativity suffers. basically i relate to virgil but i don’t want him near patton, or too close to roman, because that’s when he goes towards unsympathetic territory for me. but i like roman and virgil’s bantering and their friendship.

roman: dramatic gay with a big imagination and big dreams? i love him. and i have an easier time with his puns because his puns are nicknames. and being creativity is such a big responsibility and i just wanna give him a hug because i know what it’s like to get an idea and not knowing what to do with it or not feeling like it’s good enough. i also relate to being a romantic because sometimes you just wanna feel loved ya’know

remus: i’ve had intrusive thoughts. they’re not fun. but creativity doesn’t have to be pg13 and disney. channelling intrusive thoughts towards darker creative ideas is a good way of dealing with it. and sometimes you get curious about how it would feel to die or break a finger or something. it’s just thoughts. they’re not dangerous, they just want attention. remus could be fun. i like him. he’s just a trashman, with no real malicious intent. he wouldn’t do anything that actually causes lasting harm.

12 notes · View notes

swanqueeneverafter · 5 years

Text

After The Sunset, Pt.35

The Royal Palace. War Room. (Snow White and David join Emma, Regina, Zelena, Alice, Robin and Hook around the large round table.) David: “When I look around this table, I see old friends and a lot of concerned faces. But worry not. Snow and I led a war room like this once before, and we prevailed. Yes, a lot has changed since then. Enemies have become friends. And a new generation has joined the fight.” Snow White: “But what hasn't changed is, we are on the side of right. We know how dangerous the Jabberwocky is, and with Henry at her side, her capacity for evil is beyond anything we've ever seen. When we went to rescue Emma and Regina, we found a room full of new storybooks.” David: “And let's just say for each and every one of us, she's crafted a terrible fate. One that's designed to pierce our hearts and break our spirits.” (The storybooks are wheeled into the room by guards and each person seated around the table reads through their own book.) Zelena: (After several pages:) “Well, this is bloody disturbing.” Emma: “Everyone's alone. Separate books, separate realms.” David: “The stories are complete, but the Jabberwocky hasn't been able to make them real yet. That's what we have to prevent her from doing.” Hook: (Slams his book closed:) “There's no time to wait. I'm gonna go find Rumplestiltskin and see what he's found out.” Snow White: “Take Robin and Alice with you.” David: “Okay, then. Everyone else, scatter throughout the realms. Reach whoever you can and warn them. Snow and I will start with the outer villages.”

(Everyone stands.) Snow White: “They need to be reminded not to lose hope. If the Jabberwocky succeeds, she thinks everyone will be lost for good, but I don't believe that. (Takes David’s hand:) Charming and I have always been able to find each other, and I refuse to believe that we're the only ones. With love in their hearts, with hope, anyone can do it. They just have to believe that no one would be able to pull them apart forever, that we will succeed. Now go.” Dark Castle. (Hook, Robin and Alice return to the Dark Castle to see what Rumplestiltskin has discovered.) Hook: “Please tell me you found something.” Rumplestiltskin: “We may be in luck. (Walks over to the spinning wheel and removes the top of the spindle:) I hid some magic for a rainy day. (Pulls out a bottle and pours the contents over his hand, causing it to glow:) All I have to do now is get close enough to that creature to rip her heart out, and this whole thing will be over.” Alice: “That’s all very well and good but you have to be an immortal to kill her, remember?” Robin: “Snow and Charming told us they tried to capture Medusa, but she was turned to stone.” Rumplestiltskin: “Medusa? I know where her lair is. Perhaps I can-” Jabberwocky: (Appearing behind them beside the fireplace:) “Jabber Jabber Jabber. (As everyone turns to face her:) You’re too late. I already have everything I need. An Author with a darkened heart.”

Forest. (Henry, carrying two swords and a third on his hip, searches the forest alongside two guards.) Henry: "Split up. They can't have gone far." (The guards leave in separate directions.) Regina: (Stepping out from behind a tree:) "No need for the cavalry." Emma: "We're right here." Henry: (To Emma:) "Turning yourselves in? (To Regina:) Or are you here to mother me some more?" Emma: "Henry what are you doing? It's us, your moms." Henry: (Shaking his head:) "No, you're not real. None of this is real. My moms are back home enjoying their happy ending. (Pointing his sword at them:) You two have been sent to stop me from getting mine." Regina: "Henry, I know you might find this hard to believe, but we are your parents. We're really here, and so are the rest of your family." Emma: "It's okay, you can come back from this. Our family and friends, they’re all here to help you." Regina: "Just as they helped me." Henry: (Shakes his head:) "I don’t need help from anyone. The only way I'm going to get my happy ending is by destroying both of you. But I'll give you a chance to defend yourselves, 'cause I'm better than either of you." (Henry digs two of the swords into the ground, drawing his own.) Emma: (Frowns:) "Is that what this is about? Proving you're better than us?" Regina: "Henry, I won't fight you." Henry: "Good. Then you'll die first." (Henry swings his sword at Regina but is blocked by Emma, who quickly pulls a sword from the ground.) Emma: "Henry! Stop this right now!" Henry: "Not until I win!" (Henry surges forward with thrusts and parries. Emma manages to defend herself, backing up with each attack.) Regina: "Emma, watch out!" (Emma glances behind her but it's too late, she loses her footing and tumbles uncontrollably into a ravine.) Henry: (Twirling his sword, returns his attention to Regina:) "One down, one to go." (Henry lunges at her once more, but this time Regina picks up the sword and deflects the blow. Their swords locked above their heads, Regina manages to push Henry back before they begin to duel.)

Dark Castle. (The storybooks laid upon the long table fly open and portals appear behind Rumple, Alice, Robin and Hook. The Jabberwocky looks on, laughing.) Robin: "What's happening?!" (Robin's portal opens up right beside her and she's almost sucked inside before being saved by Hook.) Forest. (Henry and Regina continue to duel, causing the pull of the portals to strengthen.) Dark Castle. (Alice screams and clings to the table for dear life as her portal attempts to pull her inside.) Robin: "Alice, hold on!" Forest. Regina: "Henry, this isn't the way." Henry: "You don't get to decide that." (Regina pushes him away and their swords clash once more.) Dark Castle. (The Jabberwocky looks on, thrilled by the events occurring before her eyes.) Robin: "Alice, no! Hold on!" Forest. (Henry manages to disarm Regina as Emma clambers back up the ravine towards them. Pushing Regina back against a tree, Henry holds his sword at her throat.)

Regina: "Oh, Henry. I'm so sorry." Henry: (Hesitates, raging:) “You knew I wouldn't listen to you, so why did you come here?!” Regina: “I had to.” Henry: “No, you didn't! What do you want from me?!” Emma: (Appearing beside them:) “We just wanted you to know that you weren't alone. Because we know what that's like, too.” Henry: (Venomously:) “You deserved to be alone! (To Emma:) You abandoned me the day I was born. (To Regina:) And you cast a curse that ripped my family apart. You’re the reason I’m not a prince or a king. I’m nothing!” (There's a pause as the full impact of what Henry's just said washes over them all.) Emma: "Henry, you are not nothing. You were never nothing. (As Henry's sword lowers slightly:) I know right now you think we're villains whose lives aren't worth saving, but your life means everything, to both of us." Regina: (Nods:) "So if this is how we have to go out, showing you that there are people in this world that love you, no matter what you do? Oh, then that's a worthy end for me." (Emma takes Regina's hand and holds it tightly as they both stare into their son's eyes. Gritting his teeth and fighting his darker instincts, Henry finally drops his sword to the ground.) Dark Castle. (The portals immediately close and the Jabberwocky looks around confused as the others fall to the ground.) Forest. (Henry collapses into Regina's arms, sobbing.) Henry: "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Regina: "Hey, it's okay." (Emma and Regina look to each other as Henry continues to cry.) Emma: (Rubbing his back:) "It's gonna be all right, kid. I promise."

Dark Castle. (Rumplestiltskin stands and turns to the Jabberwocky.) Rumplestiltskin: "You've failed." Jabberwocky: (Smiling:) "Have I? (She transforms back into Dark Rumple:) I twisted the Author's mind once. I can do it again. (At this, Rumplestiltskin jumps over the long table, charging at her. Using her powers to choke him:) Look at you. You're pathetic. (She hurls him across the room to land on Hook, Robin and Alice:) So weak." Rumplestiltskin: (Struggling to sit up:) "I am not weak." Jabberwocky: (She slaps him back down:) "You could've fooled me." Rumplestiltskin: (Rights himself once more:) "You see, what you don't understand is, I am still stronger than you, even without my magic. Because I've evolved.” Jabberwocky: “You have evolved into a pathetic shell of what you used to be. But don't worry. You will soon just be a faded memory.” Rumplestiltskin: “Perhaps. But I think, (Holds up the hand he doused with magic:) there may be just enough magic left in this hand to end you.” (Rumplestiltskin clicks his fingers and suddenly, the stone figure of Medusa stands before the Jabberwocky.) Jabberwocky: “No!” Rumplestiltskin: “Now tell me, dearie. What are you afraid of? (To the others:) Look away, now!” (Rumplestiltskin clicks his fingers once more and Medusa springs back to life. The moment she makes eye contact with the serpent haired gorgon, the Jabberwocky turns to stone. A flash of light fills the room and the windows burst open, causing the stone figure of the Jabberwocky to crumble and the ashes to waft into the fireplace.)

(Once the light begins to fade, Rumple and the others can see a lone figure now standing by the fireplace.) Hook: (Approaching cautiously:) "H-hello? (The woman turns to face him:) Medusa?" Medusa: (Nods:) "Yes, I - thank you for freeing me." Hook: "Oh, no, it wasn't me." Medusa: (Looks to where Hook is pointing:) "Rumplestiltskin?" Rumplestiltskin: "Medusa." Hook: "You know each other? (To Rumple:) Of course you do, you know everyone." Medusa: "I must admit, I did not think it would be the Dark One who would set me free." Rumplestiltskin: "Former Dark One. And I didn't free you, I believe you did that yourself when you killed the Jabberwocky." Medusa: (Glances at the flames once more:) "That makes sense. The Jabberwocky cursed me into my gorgon form as a warning to my sister, the Lady of the Lake. She forged the Vorpal Blade." Rumplestiltskin: (Nods:) "It seems all the realms are indebted to your family. Your nephew, Lancelot, managed to use the blade to imprison the Jabberwocky for many years. And now, you have rid the world of her once and for all." Medusa: (Nods:) "Thank you. Tell me, my nephew, does he still live?" Rumplestiltskin: "He does, and so does your sister. Camelot's not far from here, in fact." Alice: "W-we could show you the way?" Medusa: "No, please that won't be necessary. I'll find it. (Smiles:) But I'm going to walk there, not slither." Royal Palace. (Henry stands looking out from the balcony lost in thought when Emma and Regina arrive.) Regina: "Henry?" Emma: "Everyone's been looking for you." Henry: "I just... I needed a moment." Emma: "They, uh well, we want to know, (As Henry turns to face them:) what's next?" Henry: (Sighs:) "There's a lot to figure out. I mean, where do I go from here, after what I did?" Regina: "No, Henry, you can’t blame yourself. People know that wasn't your fault." Henry: "But what I said to you, what I almost did-" Emma: "Shh... We've been through worse." Regina: "And we both knew, deep down, that you would never hurt us." Henry: (Shakes his head:) "I've said this before, but, I just don't know what I'd do if I lost either of you." (He hugs both of them tightly.) Emma: "You know, kid, all this doesn't mean you still can't go on an adventure." Regina: "Perhaps one in the Land Without Magic next time though?" Henry: (Chuckles:) "Didn't think I'd ever hear you say something like that. You guys must've had a great honeymoon, huh? (At their surprised looks:) Aunt Zelena told me." Emma: (Looking to Regina:) "Yeah, it was pretty..." Regina: "Magical. (As Henry and Emma groan:) What, it was!" Henry: "Well, I was kinda thinking that we could go somewhere together, just the three of us." Emma: "Sorta like a post-graduation road trip?" Henry: "Yeah, exactly. We could rent a classic car and drive across country, really see America, you know? What do you guys think?" Regina: (Smiling at Emma:) "I think it sounds wonderful." Henry: "Great. Oh and, I've made a decision as far as being the Author goes." Emma: "Mm-hmm and what's that?" Henry: "I always said that being the Author was too much power for anyone. So I'm going to try and find a way of retiring the position, without it passing to anyone else." Regina: "Is that even possible?" Henry: "I don't know, but it's the least I can do after all that happened. And to be honest, I like not knowing what's coming. I can't wait to see what's in store for me. Well, for everyone." Emma: (Putting her arm around him:) "I'm with you, kid. Here's to just closing your eyes and going with the flow." (They start walking back to join the others.) Regina: "Well if that's your new philosophy, I think I should be the one who drives on our little road trip." Emma: “Gina, C’mon, remember Disneyland? You know you enjoyed the wilder rides.” Henry: “Wait, you guys went to Disneyland without me?” Regina: (Laughs:) “Henry, you live among fairytale characters every day of your life.“ Henry: “I know, I know. But that doesn’t mean that I-“ Emma: “Relax, kid. There are two Disneyland’s in this country.” Henry: “Awesome.”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

7 notes · View notes

lewnatic · 5 years

Note

For the D&D asks, 1-20

Oh gosh, okay. This is gonna be long so I’m gonna do it under a cut.

What was your favorite Nat 1 Experience?

I don’t think a lot of my characters have had really funny Nat1 moments, sadly. I will always remember the one when @zhixx made a goblin named Spook’em specifically designed to have the least survivability possible. The first time he was downed he rolled a Nat1 on his first death save. The feeling of comedic timing was just beautiful.

Favorite D&D Inside Joke?

“You are a privateer! BUT ON LAHND.”

Favorite Item Your Character received in D&D?

Phailyn was supposed to get a tome to increase his strength, but when his crush said she wanted it, he immediately fucking dropped it so she could have it. So the DM let me sneak off and get a scrying orb we’d passed up earlier. He hasn’t used it yet, but I just like the story behind it.

Ves probably considers Sikrikta to be the best item she’s received has a lot of really expensive shit she’s keeping just because she has bourgie taste. She got a bottle of wine as a gift that would have been 400g if she’d left it unopened. She’s drinking it gradually through the adventure. It’s good, but not quite as good as what she’s used to.

Teeki has a gaudy diamond crown that Bing bought for 300 gold. It does nothing. It is purely cosmetic. She loves it.

Basically I love frivolous shit.

Preferred Animal Companion (if you had any)?

Vesxlit has a familiar, if that counts. He’s a parrot named Brilliant. He talks like a normal human (in a setting where that is definitely not commonplace) and is a member of the Bardic College in the capital city of the nation we’re traveling in.

He’s a posh gentleman who helps Ves sew dresses. They spend 90% of their time arguing because, being a bird, his fashion sense is incredibly bright and garish.

Favorite D&D Battle Encounter?

Every boss fight Skaaren has done is goddamn awesome, tbh. My favorite is the first just because of how scary it was.

Keep in mind, we’re level 1 in Pathfinder, an Oracle (Ves) and a Barbarian (Cato.) We’ve just watched a big hole open up in the ground, and our characters don’t know why, but we’re looking for missing people (including the barbarian’s boyfriend Fabius, he’s important) so we figure hell, this is probably where they’re missing.

We find some of the missing people at the bottom of the hole, but we haven’t found Fabius, so we go deeper in. We find this creepy old woman doing some kinda ritual or something by a pool of water? Barbarian charges in to kill her and save his man, and… kills her very quickly.

Silence. We go to check on Fabius, and we’re not sure if we can safely move him. I’m running out of heals from earlier stuff and I pop my last one on him, and after a while of debating what to do a ton of undead start coming out of the water. Just a goddamn mob. Whatever the hell creepy-lady was doing, we were suddenly way in over our heads. Even if we picked up Fabius and ran, we don’t have a fast way out of this hole. And we start taking damage fast. Including Fabius.

I don’t remember the specifics of the fight. I think that’s a testament to how much we were panicking. I remember feeling the helplessness of being a mage completely out of spell slots frantically trying to hit things with my stupid mace.

And I remember when the fight was over, I stayed down there panicking for several more minutes, trying to determine if Fabius was even alive while the barbarian ran to get the local doctor in a town of which he didn’t even speak the language.

In the end, Fabius was okay, and we both got out of it alive. It was just that sense of dread and fear, that we didn’t know how the DM’s rolls were going or if anything we were trying had any impact. Skaaren has always done a stellar job since of bringing that sense of genuine fear into the game when he wants to, but that first unexpected taste of it was so damn cool.

Favorite D&D NPC Interaction?

Varis Vrynn was my favorite villain. Not because of his fight, or how he fit into the greater lore, but because of how @extravagantshoes played him. He was a slimy uppity elf in the city of Galthiel, a city with heavy class divides based on magic ability. Varis was a powerful diviner, and a lot of our party interactions involved everyone in the party trying to piss him off and Varis looking down his nose in disgust at all of us.

Then Cedlanna, our young sorcerer, got a conversation with him alone in his manor, where he wanted to make a deal with her. And she just ripped into him. Cut to the core of his insecurities and how with all of his riches on display, his manor still was incredibly empty–that for all the parties he hosted he was completely alone.

He was doing some really irredeemable things and later tried to kill us all but I still managed to feel kind of sad that we ended up gruesomely killing him.

Dumbest thing You & Your Party Did

Charging through multiple spinning saws comes to mind. Every time I try to sneak around in heavy plate armor also comes to mind.

I feel like I need to make a separate post to discuss just all the impulsive things Cato does. Turning an entire city upside down just for the chance to punch a specific guy in the face was one.

Most Epic thing You & Your Party Did

I might also make a separate post about this, but Cato and Ves convinced a bunch of lizard people that they were their gods.

Basically in this setting, the level 1 baddies generally fought are called Rapia. They’re kobold-esque in design, but they have a faith-based culture and… well, kind of a faith-based biology. Rapia need something to worship, they undergo gradual physiological changes based on the thing they follow. (Say it’s a sea creature, they might get gills.) And if they don’t have something to worship, they literally become sick and presumably die.

We’d fought a few before and looted crap from their caves, including a tiny hammer that we never could have used but the barbarian held onto cuz idk??

We later ran into some others by falling through the roof of their cave, but they didn’t attack us. They started to assume that we were the gods depicted on one of their cave walls. For the sake of brevity, a fight broke out later when we were trying to leave, and Cato gave the hammer to one of the rapia who was helping us escape. It turned out in the DM’s notes, this hammer had significance to the rapia, and was supposed to be given to the religious leader of a tribe. And so the entire tribe turned to our side and protected us. And… they started following us.

It was about this time that the DM broke character to tell us he had no plan of this happening, and I guess we just have a tribe of rapia now. And we’ve had the goddamn campaign balanced around having a tribe of rapia ever since.

What did you like about your Campaign’s World?

I’m gonna try to sum these up quickly cuz these stories have already gotten long.

The Ascension world has elements of what I affectionately like to call Pop Fantasy, there’s some genre-awareness while not being parody, and all the work on the pantheon Spi did has been goddamn amazing. I also cannot figure out the overarching mysteries and that is awesome.

Nejj puts a ton into immersing us into the world. I can always very clearly get a feel for the sort of setting he’s putting us in, and I’ve been having a lot of fun with the political intrigue he’s been setting up.

Skaaren’s got the weirdest goddamn races in his setting and I love every single one of them. He’s also packed the setting full of little cultural details, I swear to god he’s done extensive research into what we’re having for breakfast in the morning based on where we’re staying.

What was the most Interesting Lore you Found?

I seriously can’t pick a favorite here so I’m going to give a silly answer, and that’s that acolytes of Ves’s goddess commune with her by getting super high.

Summarize Your Campaign(s) in a Single Sentence

One for each campaign:A group of weird rebels and one very ordinary guy dismantle the ruling government.Goblins discover crazy politics and necromancy, what happens next will warm your heart.Tourists getting intimate with the horrifying hidden truths of nature

Describe your whole Party Dynamic in a Sentence

The best bunch of weirdos and one stupid shady paladin.Loner rogue becomes Team Mom by sheer force of how much the other two hate each other.Bug Jesus and The Angriest Boy discover family in the form of lizards.

What Alignment do your characters lean towards?

I have a weird time choosing an alignment for characters cuz motivations change a lot for my nerds. Teeki was True Neutral but has become more Chaotic Good. Ves is Lawful Good I guess?? And Phai is a goddamn mess whose alignment has shifted at least thrice since his conception.

How do you tend to Take Notes (if you do)?

Badly! Next question.

Prefer Story/Plot Driven or No Plot/Character-Driven Campaigns?

I tend to prefer plot-driven, but I honestly think elements of both should be implemented in your narrative–occasionally giving breaks from the overarching plot to give the cast some time to dick around can give a breath of fresh air to roleplay.

Combat or Role Play?

Roleplay, of course. I actually used to think I hated D&D combat. It took a lot of great sessions to make me realize that the RP doesn’t stop for combat, and that’s when I started really getting into learning and enjoying mechanics elements.

Favorite D&D Monster/Creature?

Illithid. I would love to actually play as one someday.

Magic User or Fighter?

Magic is more engaging to me, personally, but I like both.

Preferred Weapon/Spell in D&D?

Tasha’s Hideous Laughter. In large part because of how it’s roleplayed in Critical Role tbh. I also have felt the high of Sneak Attack enough times to really love it now.

What was your Favorite Nat 20 Experience?

One time I rolled a Nat20 perception while we were on the road and it was literally just to find a coin on the ground. That might always be my favorite.

#dnd #lewnspeak #gobbos #ascension #scarecrowmes

2 notes · View notes

my-one-love-is-music · 6 years

Text

We’re Not a Tragedy

Summary: It's the night before the launch of the Kerberos mission. It's supposed to be everything Shiro's ever wanted in his life, but when Keith takes him out for one last victory lap, he realizes there's something he might want a little more than to explore the recesses of space. But even when he voices such ideas, Keith isn't about to let him give up on his dreams.

A/N: I'm very, very excited to finally share this fic with everyone! It was largely inspired by the song Take My Hand by The Cab. I recommend listening to the song as you read because I think it really gives the full effect I'm going for.

Also on AO3!

Shiro stared at his room. It was mostly packed, and he hadn’t seen it look so bare since when he’d first moved in a couple years ago. Most of his things, the personal belongings that had decorated the space anyway, were put into a separate storage locker that would house them for the duration of the Kerberos mission. His bag held the few personal belongings he was allowed and his undergarments. His other space suits were waiting on the ship for launch the next morning.

A knock sounded on his door and he walked over, pulling it open. He wasn’t sure who he expected to be on the other side, but he was happy to see Keith standing there with a smirk on his face.

“Keith!” he greeted, pulling him into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d take you out for a little victory lap before the launch tomorrow,” he said, pulling back, his smirk sliding into a grin.

“A victory lap?” Shiro asked, brow furrowing.

“Come on,” he said, catching Shiro’s hand and pulling him from his room. “We’ve only got so many hours left and we can’t waste them.”

Shiro let himself be pulled down the hall. Keith wove through the halls and they nodded at some of the people they passed. They turned towards the garage and found the rows of hoverbikes that were stored inside. Keith walked down the row until they reached his red cruiser.

“You’re taking me away from the Garrison?”

Keith smiled and twirled his keys around his finger. He threw a leg over the bike and climbed on. “You’ll just have to find out,” he said, sticking them in the ignition.

Shiro grinned and hurried over to the bike. He climbed on behind Keith, wrapping his arms around his stomach as his adrenaline started pumping from the excitement.

“You ready?” Keith asked, revving the engine.

“You know it,” Shiro said.

Faster than it was probably safe, Keith tore out of his spot and hurtled towards the exit to the garage. They flew free, the humid air meeting their exit as they disappeared through the open gates and headed out towards the desert. The main roads fell away as the ground became rockier and dustier, morphing into less traveled and cared for roads.

The sun was low in the sky, but it wasn’t quite sunset yet. The wind whipped at their clothes and hair, kicking up dust behind them as the large outline of the Garrison disappeared from the horizon.

“Where are we going?” Shiro called over the sound of the wind roaring in their ears.

Keith looked over his shoulder and grinned, before hunching over the handlebars. Shiro felt a little breathless, and it wasn’t just because of the wide expanses of land seemingly at his fingertips. Keith’s eyes had a spark in them he’d become so used to seeing and his smile was bright.

“Hold on tight!” Keith called as the flat land gave way to cliffs and valleys of rock.

Shiro tightened his hold and moved forward, pressing tightly against Keith. The wind battered them as they moved faster.

“Uh, Keith?” he asked as they roared to a cliff edge. “Keith?!” he called in a panic.

“Hold on!” he shouted. Shiro fought to keep his eyes open as they launched over the edge of the cliff. Gravity pulled at them and he watched the bottom of the valley approach sharply. Keith revved the handles again and just before they made impact, the upward thrusters opened, and they stabilized, bouncing once before continuing forward across the rocky terrain.

Shiro gaped and looked back over his shoulder, eyes going from the bottom of the cliff to the top as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” he asked.

“Family secret!” he called over his shoulder.

“You have to teach me!”

“I’ll show you when you get back from Kerberos. It’ll be your coming home gift.”

“Deal,” Shiro said.

Their bike rounded another curve and they found a break in the cliffs. They shot through the opening in a cloud of dust and sped across the open desert.

Shiro could see a small, black dot growing on the horizon and squinted, trying to make out what it was as they got closer. The dot grew bigger, slowly spreading out and taking the form of an oddly-shaped square as they approached.

He blinked, belatedly realizing it was a shack as Keith started to slow and approach the house.

“Where are we?” he asked as Keith killed the engine.

Keith prodded him and they both climbed off the bike. “Best place to watch the sunset. At least I think so,” he said, walking towards the front door.

“But whose is this?” Shiro asked. “You can’t just use a random person’s house.”

Keith snorted. “It’s not a random person’s house. It’s mine,” he said, pulling a key from his pocket. “I didn’t get to stay and live here because I was too young, but my dad left it to me, so I have full rights to the property.”

“Oh,” Shiro said.

“I have food if you haven’t eaten yet. And anything is better than Garrison food,” Keith said, pushing inside.

Shiro followed him, staring at the surroundings. The furniture and decorations were sparse. What was in the main room was covered in white sheets to keep dust free. He passed a staircase and followed Keith into a small kitchen.

There was a pizza box on the table. Shiro grinned and Keith returned it.

“Come on,” Keith said, grabbing two cans of soda from the fridge. He handed them to Shiro and took hold of the pizza. “Let’s go out back.”

“Out back? There’s more?” Shiro gaped.

Keith chuckled and headed towards a screen door he hadn’t noticed earlier. “Just a little bit.” He held the door open for Shiro as he walked through and onto a back porch. Keith sat down at the top of the steps and flipped open the lid of the box. Shiro sat next to him and set the drinks between them.

Keith offered him the pizza and he eagerly took a slice, sighing at the taste of the sauce and cheese.

He groaned. “I haven’t had pizza in so long.”

Keith laughed. “You need to get out more.”

“We only get so many clearance days,” Shiro argued.

“You get as many clearance days as you want as long as you’re good enough.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?” he asked when Keith smirked.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said too innocently.

“Keith…” he said, voice low.

“I’m not telling you.”

Shiro watched him closely. He carefully set his slice of pizza back in the box. Keith’s eyes widened, and he tossed his pizza on top of the rest of the pie, launching himself from the steps.

“Keith!” Shiro called chasing after him.

“I’m not telling you!” he said, darting out of reach.

“You’re supposed to be staying out of trouble,” he huffed, reaching out for him again.

“I am! I haven’t gotten into trouble for this.”

“You’re not making me feel any better,” Shiro said, his grip falling just short of catching the tail of Keith’s jacket.

“It’s not my job to try and make you feel better!” Keith said, evading him as he reached for him again.

Shiro lurched forward, grinning when he finally managed to snag the back of his jacket. “Gotcha!” he said and reeled him in.

Keith struggled to break free without using the submission techniques he’d learned in training. “You know I can break from this,” he hissed.

“I know you can, but I also know you won’t.” Shiro grinned when Keith grumbled under his breath but didn’t make a move to do anything. “So...what did you do?”

“Nothing!” he said.

Shiro lowered his grip to just above Keith’s hips and straightened, picking him up from the ground.

“Okay! Okay!” he said, kicking out and struggling against the hold. “I’ll tell you, just put me down!”

“I’ll put you down after you tell me.”

“Damn it, Shiro,” he hissed.

Shiro moved to swing him around again.

“Okay! I’m just really good at sneaking out, that’s all. Can you put me down now?”

Shiro hummed. “Nope!” he said with a grin and started to carry Keith back towards the porch.

“You’re the worst,” he muttered. “I’m glad you’re leaving tomorrow,” he said, no heat behind his words.

“Nah, you’ll miss me,” Shiro said with a grin.

Keith pursed his lips when he was set back on his feet. He pouted up at Shiro, making him laugh. Keith sighed and bumped their shoulders.

“I’m going to miss you though,” he murmured.

“I know, Keith. I’m going to miss you, too.” Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

They stood there, soaking up each other’s presence. Finally, Keith pulled away.

“Eat as much as you want,” he said, picking up his half-eaten slice. “It’s gonna be the best meal you have in a long time.”

They sat on the steps, the pizza box the only thing separating them as they watched the sun set around them, setting a fiery glow on the sand around them. They ate slowly, enjoying each slice and moment between them. Shiro fought to keep thoughts of the next day out of his mind.

He was excited. He’d been excited for months when he’d heard the news and knew he was going to be part of something so amazing. But now…now that he was sitting here with Keith on the back steps of his shack and the fact Keith had brought him out of the Garrison and ordered pizza…he almost didn’t want the next morning to come.

Shiro could very well have been perfectly happy staying trapped in this moment forever and that scared him a little. There was so much out on the world. So much out in space. And he felt himself being pulled backwards by someone who he’d tried to bring forward into the future with him.

When the box had long been emptied and their soda cans drained of every drop, the stars began to peek through the atmosphere.

“What do you say we go for one more ride?” Shiro asked.

He looked over at Keith and found him startle. He didn’t blame him. His own voice sounded loud in the silence between them. Keith looked at him, eyes wide and somehow still shining in the low light.

“The ride out here wasn’t enough for you?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow as a grin pulled at his lips.

“It’s never enough is it?” he whispered, voice low.

His honesty seemed to take Keith off guard and he looked at him more closely. He pushed himself from the steps and held out a hand to Shiro who took it, letting himself get pulled to his feet. Their hands stayed clasped together for a moment as they watched each other.

Keith walked backward, pulling around the side of the house to where his hoverbike was parked in front. They climbed on, Shiro clutching tightly to Keith as he started the engine and they rose, hovering above the ground.

“Where to?” Keith asked.

“Wherever you’re willing to take me,” Shiro whispered.

The bike jolted forward, leaving the shack behind in a cloud of dust. They sped across the desert and Shiro held onto Keith tightly, less because of the speed they were going and more because he was almost worried this moment would disappear and Keith would slip through his fingers.

Sand flew past them, kicking up in the air and getting caught on his clothes and in his hair. He squinted his eyes, making a mental note that the next time he came out here with Keith on his bike, he’d need to bring goggles. Something painful radiated through his chest at the reminder that wasn’t going to be for a long time.

Keith’s bike moved with the land, dipping as the sand did and rising over hills and mounds, making them bounce when the ground shifted quickly and roughly. Shiro could see the edge of a cliff approach and he tightened his grip on Keith, knowing exactly what he was going to do this time.

The bike shot over the edge, plummeting towards the ground. At the last second, Keith revved the engines and changed the direction of the propulsion systems, keeping them from hitting the ground again. They bounced roughly before taking off faster across the sand between the two canyon walls.

Shiro was relaxed and happy. He trusted Keith. He was a great pilot and knew exactly what he was doing. They’d practiced flying together so many times and Shiro wanted to do this forever.

They could run.

The thought was sudden and unexpected and not one Shiro ever expected to have. He’d always known what he wanted. Had always been working to get to that point no matter if it was studying or training or spending so many extra hours in the simulator to perfect his flying technique.

But now…it almost felt like they could run. That the Kerberos mission didn’t matter as long as he had Keith and they were together. Hours ago, he’d only had his sights on packing and getting ready to leave, but now…now there was so much more.

The bike slowed underneath them as they came out of the canyon they’d been flying in. Shiro could see another outcropping of rocks ahead, some of them forming a strange arch of natural rock.

Keith turned to look at him. His eyes were bright in the dim light and his cheeks flushed. He must’ve seen something on Shiro’s face because he frowned.

“Shiro?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”

He stared at him before looking around. He climbed off the bike and Keith followed him, watching carefully.

“Shiro, if something’s wrong… Do we need to go back?”

Shiro shook his head. He looked up at the sky. He glanced over the stars and distant planets he couldn’t see without a telescope. All of it had held so much allure to him. He’d wanted nothing as badly for so many years. Then he looked down at Keith who was watching him, face filled with concern.

“I don’t want to go,” he admitted.

Keith’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean you don’t want to go? You’ve wanted to go to Kerberos since they announced the mission,” he said, stepping closer.

“I know,” Shiro agreed. “But being out here…with you, it’s…I never would’ve imagined something so simple could be so amazing. I don’t want to leave you.”

Keith sighed and stalked forward. Shiro wasn’t sure what he was going to do. But he definitely wasn’t expecting it when Keith raised his hands and shoved at him. He stumbled back in surprise and looked at Keith.

“Keith, what-“

Keith rushed forward again and shoved him rougher than he had the first time.

“Keith, sto-“

He put all his weight behind the next shove and they both fell to the ground in a cloud of dust. Keith hovered over him, chest heaving. His hands were planted next to Shiro’s head as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“You can’t give up on your dreams, Shiro,” Keith said between breaths. “I won’t let you. You’ve wanted this for so long and one moment of hesitation might leave you with a lifetime of regret.”

“We could run,” Shiro whispered, something in his chest twisting.

Keith shook his head. “I’m not going to let you run from this, Shiro. I know you want it. I’m not going to let you give up on your dreams. I’ll be here when you get back. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Shiro sat up and cradled the back of Keith’s head, pressing their lips together. Keith’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as they kissed, and he settled into Shiro’s lap. Keith was warm under Shiro’s hands. He was alive and thriving and Shiro wanted to keep him all to himself. He wanted to stay there forever.

Keith pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. “We’re going to be okay, Shiro. I’ll be here when you get back, but you need to do this. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“I’m starting to think that what I’ve always wanted is you, Keith,” he whispered.

Keith sucked in a breath. “That’s really unfair, Shiro.”

“I’m sorry.”

Keith sighed and shook his head. “We should head back,” he murmured.

Shiro tightened his hold on him. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“We need to get back to the Garrison,” Keith said, more forcefully this time.

“Will you stay with me once we get there?”

Keith opened his mouth to say no.

“Please?” he asked, voice soft.

“So unfair,” Keith muttered and sighed. “Okay, I’ll stay with you when we get back.”

They spent a few more moments soaking up each other’s presence in the dark night, Shiro wanting to keep Keith in his lap as long as possible so their warm bodies could stay pressed together. They finally managed to pull themselves up out of the dirt and dust and climbed back on the bike, Shiro clutching tightly to Keith. They rode back to the shack in silence, cleaning up their mess from dinner.

Shiro froze on the front steps of the shack, looking at the desert around them and the sky above.

“Come on, Shiro,” Keith said, taking his hand.

Shiro nodded and let himself be pulled towards the bike. He buried his face in Keith’s shoulder when they climbed on. The drive back was monotonous, not nearly as exciting as when they’d flown out. The distance closed too quickly, and they were once again back at the Garrison, the full weight of what was happening hitting Shiro yet again.

They walked shoulder to shoulder back to Shiro’s room and slipped inside. The hallways were quiet and dim in the late hours of the day. Or maybe it was the early hours now. Shiro couldn’t find the strength to check the time when it would make everything too real. He was leaving soon, and he didn’t want to know how soon it was.

They didn’t look at each other as they stripped out of their uniforms into white shirts and boxers. Keith climbed onto his bed first and Shiro settled in behind him. He threw an arm over Keith’s stomach and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He held on tightly, keeping Keith as close as he could.

Keith drifted off easily, but Shiro was kept up with his thoughts into the early hours of the morning. He was going to be tired the next day, but he could handle it. He wasn’t going to let the Kerberos takeoff fail, but he wanted to absorb as much time as he had left with Keith. He knew if he fell asleep, the morning would come too quickly. At least this way he had the ability to feel as though he was staving off the inevitable.

Shiro drifted off every now and then during the night and when his alarm went off, he and Keith dressed slowly and silently, not giving themselves time to stay and lounge in bed. They shared a long kiss before leaving for the launch, Shiro dressed in his uniform before he would change into the spacesuit. His bag was slung over his shoulder, the bulk almost unnoticeable.

They were forced to part too soon and despite the number of people that could see them or could’ve caught them, Shiro pulled Keith in for one last kiss, soft lips moving together as he tried to convey how much Keith meant to him and how much he was going to miss him.

Keith cradled his face between his palms. They didn’t say any words. They didn’t say any goodbyes. Keith’s eyes shone brightly and Shiro wanted to be lost in their depths if it meant he could stay, but as though he knew what he was thinking, Keith shook his head.

Shiro stepped back and Keith’s hands fell away. Their eyes stayed locked until Shiro disappeared behind a pair of double doors guarded by two Garrison soldiers.

Months later, when Shiro was stuck in a dirty cell and licking his wounds after another gruesome fight in the arena, he was once again filled with regret that he hadn’t abandoned the mission and stayed behind.

He tried to lose himself in thoughts of bright, violet eyes, that mischievous grin, and the feeling of soft, pink lips against his own. He tried to remember the warmth of the sun and dirt on his skin as he’d held Keith during their last hours together and what his bedsheets had felt like. Some nights were harder than others and more than once he found himself questioning the reality of it all and if he was just crazy enough to have created the illusion of that last night they’d had.

But he knew. There was still a part of him that knew how real Keith was, because what he was feeling wasn’t something he could invent. It was too real. It burned to brightly. It consumed him in a way that only his desire to see space ever had.

So much time had been lost with Keith and he could only hope he’d still be waiting for him when he got back to Earth. Because as much pain as he was in and as difficult as fighting in the arena was, he was going to get back.

And he was never going to leave Keith again.

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

#sheith #voltron #molim writes #fic: we're not a tragedy #pre-kerberos #song fic

4 notes · View notes