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zepskies · 3 months

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Take Me Home - Part 2

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from.

AN: Thank you so much for all of your lovely comments on Part 1! I know many of you have questions, and I promise, all will be revealed in due time…

(Also, what do you guys think of new chapters releasing on Wednesdays and Sundays instead of just Fridays? A week is a long time, isn't it? 😂)

Song Inspo: “City Grown Willow” by Radio Company

Word Count: 5,200

Tags/Warnings: Tension, hurt/comfort, major angst, and more comfort of a different sort.

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Not Right, But It’s Okay

Tensions were running high at Sunny Day Excursions.

Over the next few days, Mary continued to press the issue of you staying in Montana with little passive aggressive comments that got on your damn nerves. You proverbially dug your heels in, and became even more stubborn and taciturn as a result.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

However, the entire camp was shaken the night Paige and Luke disappeared on a hike. Buck and Sunny assured everyone that they were doing their best to look for the couple, but come the morning, it was Emily who accidentally found Luke in the woods, bleeding from a head wound, and without Paige.

He claimed that they’d gone their separate ways after a fight, and he hadn’t seen her since. Paige’s suitcase and things were gone from her tent, so Sunny could only assume that she’d found her way back to camp and left for home by morning.

“Look, no one’s a prisoner here,” Sunny had said. “If Paige wanted to go home, then that’s up to her.”

There was still something off about it though, you felt. Emily seemed to share your thoughts; you’d heard her whispering with Avery, and Dan, another camper in his early 40s.

You started to watch Luke a bit harder from then on. As did your friend Mary, if for different reasons.

It was still early in the morning when you caught her flirting with Luke in front of your shared tent.

“A personal trainer, huh?” said Luke. His gaze flit over Mary’s form, and she allowed it with a smile. “You know, I’ve got a pretty good workout routine, but I’ll bet you can give me some tips—”

“Drink lots of water,” you said dryly as you approached the tent. You carried your sketchpad and acrylic paints in your hand, and you pushed into the tent without giving Luke and Mary more than a glance.

You heard Mary’s voice outside the tent, all girlish and flirtatious as she apologized about you, and suggested they could keep talking later. Luke readily agreed. You sat down on the edge of your bed and watched his silhouette walk away from the tent.

Mary soon joined you inside, and she didn’t look pleased. She stared down at you and crossed her arms.

“Are you kidding me with that shit?” you asked, gesturing at the scene you just saw.

“Could you be any more of a cockblock?” Mary shot back.

“Number one, that guy is a little too young for you, Cougar Town,” you reminded her. Luke had to be in his early 20s. It had been a hot minute since you and Mary were of college age. “Number two, he came here with his girlfriend, who he somehow lost in the woods.”

“She left him,” Mary said. “All alone in the middle of nowhere. Then she took off and went home so she didn’t have to deal with what she did. I feel bad for him.”

“No, you’re horny for him. There’s a difference,” you said flatly.

You loved Mary like a sister, but she had the tendency to let guys blind her to good sense. (Ha. Pot calling the kettle black, came your self-deprecation.)

Though you could’ve predicted the way she huffed and walked away, once again leaving you alone. You sighed.

Wasn’t this vacation for us? you wondered.

Mary continued to bait Luke with coy flirtation, while you tried and failed to ride a horse again. Cormack had been kind and encouraging in trying to help you onto the creature, but once you were on its back, you were too afraid to let the horse move.

You felt like you were going to topple off at any moment, even with Beau Arlen’s advice. (Which still made you blush whenever you thought about it.)

So Cormack helped you down, and you went back to the mess tent for a mid-afternoon snack to make you feel better: a giant jelly donut.

You were really getting frustrated with yourself now.

“It’s not so hard,” Emily had said. You could imagine that her dad, the cowboy sheriff, had put her on a horse from the time she was a little kid. You were a city girl, through and through. The closest you’d ever gotten to riding a horse was a plastic one—a carousel at a carnival when you were six.

While you finished off your donut, you realized that you’d spent the whole day alone. As frustrated as you were with Mary, she was your best friend. And after this week, you would be staying and she would be going back to Chicago. You didn’t know when you would get to see her again.

So with a sigh, you wiped your hands free of donut icing and went to try and find her.

You started with the tent you shared with her. “Hey, Mary? Look I—”

You gasped when, upon entering the tent, you got your eyes seared. Mary and Luke were tangled together under the sheets. He moved off of your friend and rolled onto his back next to her when you came in. Mary uttered your name in shock. Everyone was shocked, really.

You were that, and angry.

“Really?! In our goddamn bed?” you shouted. Your gaze focused on Luke, and you pointed at him. “Get the hell out of here.”

He hesitated slightly, glancing at Mary, but your furious look scared him more. He grabbed his boxers and got dressed under the sheets before he left the bed, and then fled the tent, giving you a wide berth on his way out.

You then focused on Mary, who somehow looked both contrite and irritated at being interrupted. She said your name in a placating way, but you shook your head.

“No. No. Don’t even try,” you said. “That guy’s girlfriend left him in the middle of a vacation! What does that tell you? Please, screw me?”

“You know what?” Mary snapped. She sat up in the bed, making sure to cover herself with the sheet. She leaned over to grab her clothes from the floor and started hastily getting dressed.

“Luke’s actually a nice guy," she said. "You used to know how to have fun. But now you’ve just become this bitter person who can’t relax or let yourself be happy, let alone anyone else.”

That actually struck you—like a physical blow to your chest. You tried to blink past the sting of tears in your eyes.

“You’re a damn child,” you said, steadier than you felt. “You’re not the one who had your whole world imploded.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She still looked angry, but also like she was hiding the sting of guilt. She gathered up some of her things and informed you that she’d be staying at Luke’s tent tonight.

Freakin’ fine by you.

You’d also have to request some new bed sheets from Sunny.

In the morning, you stumbled out of bed after a rough night’s sleep. It was hard for you to sleep in a new place by yourself, especially out here in the woods.

Especially after how you and Mary left things.

You were so tired, you counted it a small blessing that you were able to put on clothes and get your hair into some kind of normalcy before you trekked over to the mess tent.

There you accidentally overheard Avery and Emily arguing; she’d lost her knife in the woods when she’d happened upon Luke, but Avery was reluctant to let her go hiking by herself. Apparently, her mother was due to join them this morning as well.

It seemed like the day of late comers though. A new married couple, Tonya and Donno, had arrived late yesterday to join the trip. They’d requested a tent at the far end of the camp, closest to the woods. Apparently, they wanted to really experience nature.

All you knew was, they seemed a bit weird.

“That knife’s important. My father gave it to me,” Emily said, interrupting your thoughts.

It made Avery quiet, but they both greeted you more pleasantly when you had to walk by them to get to the coffee.

“Hey, sorry,” you gave a little wave in embarrassment. You hated interrupting moments that had nothing to do with you, but you supposed it was unavoidable in this camp.

Once you’d gotten your coffee and filled your plate with some eggs and bacon, you joined them at the table. You pretended not to notice the way they both glanced at you with measures of concern. Did you really look that bad?

Avery wisely didn’t comment. Emily wasn’t as good at curbing her inner filter.

“Hey, you okay?” she asked. You gave her a thin smile.

“Just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep so well,” you admitted.

Of course, that was when the reason for your bedraggled appearance strolled into the mess tent. Mary came in and noticed Avery and Emily first with a smile. It turned frosty when she glanced at you. You gave her a mocking “smile” right back.

She chose to ignore you and went for the buffet table instead.

Right, you thought. You supposed that was how it was going to be for the rest of this damn trip.

“All righty! Good mornin’, folks,” Sunny said, entering the mess tent. She surveyed all the faces gathered—some relaxed and jovial, and then your table, a bit awkward, a bit tense.

She moved on with a smile that matched her name and her shiny red hair.

“Just lettin’ you all know as a reminder, we’ve got a bunch of activities for you all if there are any takers. Archery, kayaking, it’s gonna be a great time,” she said. “But if you prefer, you’re welcome to keep to the camp have a more relaxed day. It’s your vacation, so it’s up to you how you wanna spend it.”

You all nodded in understanding.

It’s your vacation. You choose how you spend it.

That, you could get on board with.

You spent the rest of the morning alone, as usual. Either you were reading in the outdoor lounge area, taking in the sunshine and the fresh air, or you were painting, taking in the landscape of the tall trees and the great, big mountains peeking out from behind them.

You earned yourself some peace today, one that let you breathe and try to tune out your frustrations with Mary, and your worries about the future. You hummed along to a melody in your mind as you painted. Completely at peace…

Until a hand tapped on your shoulder, making you yelp and sending your paintbrush high in the air.

Cormack came into your line of vision with a barely stifled laugh and placating hands. While you took out your earbuds (and calmed your breathing), he grabbed your brush and handed it back to you.

“Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know that lunch is served,” he said, though he took a glance at your painting. “Hey, lookin’ real good there. Nice landscape.”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Aw, you don’t have to be so nice. I’m still learning.”

He crossed his arms. “Well, if you’re interested in taking classes, I know someone who runs an art studio in town. Miss Peggy. Nice lady. Not too harsh.”

You laughed more genuinely.

“Good to know, thanks! Send me the address and I’ll check it out,” you said. Cormack agreed with a smile, and he helped you up from the long couch you were sitting on. The two of you walked back together to the central part of the camp, where the mess tent was.

There you met Emily’s mother, Carla, who’d just joined her family at the camp. She wasn’t exactly dressed for camping in her pressed blouse and pencil skirt; professional and smart, her long dark hair a perfect coil.

This woman was immaculate. As you soon learned, she was also a lawyer. You didn’t often feel intimidated by other women, but she could fit that bill, considering you were sweaty and dusty in your plain V-necked shirt and jeans.

And especially knowing that this was Sheriff Arlen’s ex-wife. Avery seemed like the “wealthy businessman” type—the kind of man you’d expect a high-powered lawyer to be with. You found yourself wondering how she’d met the sheriff.

That’s none of your busineeeess, you sing-songed in your mind, while you speared more salad on your plate. As if that could disguise the juicy brisket burger right beside it.

After lunch, you returned to your tent to finally find Mary. She was lying on the bed, looking a bit listless.

“I’m surprised you’re not attached to Luke’s hip,” you remarked, setting down your backpack and paint supplies on the floor. “Or his face.”

She shot you a peeved look. “He keeps ditching me for that weird new couple. Tonya and Donner or something.”

“Donno?” you supplied. “Yeah, he’s weird. He stole the ketchup bottle from the breakfast table this morning. He told me, ‘You shouldn’t ruin good eggs with sugary tomato paste.’”

Mary raised a brow, but she turned to you when you sat down beside her on the bed. There was a moment of tension between you, even though your gazes were softer to each other. The truth was, you missed your friend today. You guys didn’t fight often, and it had you hurting. Maybe she felt the same way.

“Listen,” you said with a sigh. “I’m not sorry for throwing Luke out of our tent. That was gross as hell, and I didn’t appreciate that. But I don’t want to fight with you. I want to enjoy our last few days together before you go back to Chicago.”

Mary’s lips pursed, but she seemed to relent.

“Yeah, that was a bitch move,” she admitted. She knew full well that her tryst with Luke could’ve happened in his tent, not the one she shared with you. She met your gaze with more resignation, as well as apology.

“You’re really staying here, aren’t you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I am. I’m not saying there’s nothing for me back home. Of course I’m going to miss you, our friends, the rest of my family…but I need to do this. I need a fresh start.”

It took her a moment, but Mary nodded. She reached over and hugged you. You held her back tightly.

After a beat, she let you go and slid out of bed.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I need to do something. I’m going stir crazy in here.”

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

“Just for a run,” she replied. “I should be back by dinner.”

“A run?” you repeated, your brows furrowing. “In the woods by yourself? Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

“Well, you could come with me,” she offered. You grimaced. You and running didn’t mix. You were more of a yoga girl.

Mary laughed and finished changing into her activewear and sneakers.

“That’s what I thought,” she said. “No worries, I’ll have my phone if anything. I’ll be okay.”

“But your cell won’t have service out there!” you said.

Mary was already leaving. She blew you a kiss goodbye, though she did stop in the tent’s entryway. Her face sobered with a sincere apology.

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back, clear my head.”

You were reluctant to see her go, but you nodded.

“Just be back in time for dinner!” you called after her.

Mary wasn’t back for dinner. Even after the sun set, she hadn’t come back from her run. You were really beginning to worry.

All the other campers were gathering up at the edge of camp for a Night Hike. It was an idea Buck and Sunny surprised you all with a few hours ago. You wondered if they were trying to make up for the strange way Paige left the camp.

“The moon’s full tonight,” as Sunny had said, with a slightly too bright smile. “Should be a beautiful time.”

You asked some of the others if they’d seen Mary, but they all replied negatively. Even Luke was nowhere to be found…but someone else was missing too.

“I still can’t believe you let her go into the woods alone,” Carla snapped at her husband.

Avery’s frown deepened. “I had no idea she went off by herself. You know your daughter. She’s headstrong—”

“Yeah, just like her father,” Carla muttered, turning away from him. Avery sighed.

You couldn’t help but approach them.

“Emily’s missing?" you said in concern. "Mary is too. I’ve been waiting for her to come back all afternoon.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Carla said. She frowned as anxiety continued to well up in her eyes. “Maybe they found each other.”

You touched her arm in comfort. “Either way, we can all look for them now.”

Sunny came up to the group with a flashlight and a smile.

“Everyone ready?” she asked.

“Mary’s missing,” you told her, “And so is Emily. Mary went on a run this morning and hasn’t been back since.”

Sunny inclined her head. After she surveyed the rest of the crowd, she settled back on you.

“I see Luke’s not among us either. Maybe they’re together?” she suggested, in a leading tone. You frowned.

“No, she left alone,” you said firmly.

“Don’t mean she stayed alone, darlin’,” Sunny replied, with that Oklahoma twang that so often made her words more charming. “But we’ll be sure to look for her and Emily while we’re out there.”

Carla shook her head and said to her husband, “That’s it. I’m calling Beau.”

“Darling, you don’t need to,” Avery replied, shaking his head. “Emily’s a responsible girl. She knows what time we’re meant to leave—”

Carla shook her head and walked past him and Sunny—towards the hotspot for cell service. You agreed with her; calling the sheriff couldn’t hurt, especially if you all couldn’t find Mary or Emily on this hike.

You still went with the rest of them to start your own search. You tried to keep with the group, but after lingering in certain spots to call for Mary, you eventually realized that you’d lost the trail—and everyone else.

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

The panic was back now, full force, and you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. And when you turned another corner, you screamed when you bumped into someone.

A girl’s scream echoed just as loudly as yours in the big, empty wood, but you got ahold of yourself, literally with a hand over your wildly beating heart when you realized who you’d run into.

“Emily!” you uttered. The girl let out a breath of relief to see you too. You went to her and pulled her into a hug, and she hugged you back.

“Thank. God,” she said. Her voice sounded tight with emotion, and you held her a bit tighter.

“It’s okay,” you rubbed her back. “How long’ve you been out here?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head, pulling away from you. “Couple of hours? Maybe longer.”

You nodded and expelled a breath. Poor thing looked tired. She didn’t even have any supplies with her. You gave her a protein bar from your backpack before you two started walking.

“So the good news is, we found each other. The bad news is, we’re still lost,” you said, counting each item on your fingers. “But the good news also is, I’ve only been walking for about…half an hour or so. I’m thinking we can mark trees or other landmarks as we pass them, like checking them off, so we know where we’ve been.”

Emily glanced at you with a smile. “You’re a checklist person, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely!” you agreed. “Checking things off is satisfying. But it’s also good just to take an inventory of where we’re at.”

You two kept walking for a while. Emily explained that she’d been following Luke, who took off by himself after giving her an ominous warning.

“There are some bad people on this trip. Want my advice? Get the hell out of here,” he’d said.

You frowned in concern. You’d felt that there was something fishy about that guy, pretty much from the moment he and Paige disappeared on that hike. Those newcomers he’d been hanging out with ever since, Tonya and Donno…maybe they had something to do with it.

They’d left camp today to go into town, claiming to check on the restaurant they owned and ran. But with everything now starting to come into perspective, you couldn’t take any piece of information at face value around here.

Suddenly, Emily stopped short.

“What’s…” Your words trailed as you followed her line of vision. There was a frilly pair of underwear on the ground.

That led to a hoodie strewn in the dirt and dead leaves. You continued on, until you found Mary, lying on her back on the cold ground. You and Emily gasped her name, but you moved first, dropping to your knees at Mary’s side. You pressed a hand to her cheek and found it cold.

You moved two fingers to the pulse point at her neck, but there was nothing. No life in her. Your mouth fell open in a silent, shocked cry.

“Mary? Honey, can you hear me?” you tried, shaking her shoulders. When she remained unresponsive, tears burned in your eyes and blurred your vision. You finally saw a dark patch of wet pooled out from under her body.

“Oh my God,” Emily said, voicing your thoughts. She was panicked. “Oh God, she’s…she’s…”

You turned to her and wanted to say, Don’t look.

You had briefly taught highschoolers before you became a college professor. You were used to looking out for your students, and as the adult here, you wanted to shield the teen from the sight of this, no matter how much your mind was spinning.

Before you could say anything, Emily fled the clearing with a scream.

“Emily!” you shouted after her. You glanced back at Mary in desperation, but you forced yourself onto your feet and ran after the girl.

You had slightly longer legs, but she was fast. You only caught up to her because she screamed louder, after running into Buck leading a horse through the woods. She grabbed onto him while you caught your breath behind her.

“What? What happened?” Buck asked. You laid a supportive hand on Emily’s shoulder, and she turned back to you with tearful eyes.

“Mary,” you managed, despite the coarseness in your voice. “She’s…”

This isn’t real, you thought. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

“She’s dead,” Emily finished for you. “Someone killed her.”

Buck’s eyes widened in shock. All he could say was…

“Show me.”

Buck brought Mary’s body back to camp on the back of his horse. The three of you walked in silence all the way there. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at her lifeless body. It was wrong. And if you did, you knew you’d collapse.

Emily was likely in shock as well. Her arm was looped through yours, though you weren’t sure who was steadying who.

Thanks to Carla, the police were already on the way to Sunny Day Excursions. When you reached the camp, Carla beelined for her daughter. Despite how happy she was to see her mom, Emily was a bit reluctant to let go of you, seeing how shaken you were, but you encouraged her wordless to go to her mother.

Carla pulled Emily into a tight hug, kissing the side of her head, and asked if she was all right. Emily just shook her head and pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder. Carla looked up at you with a relieved sigh.

“Thank you,” she said.

You gave her teary smile of your own. You couldn’t speak though, especially when Buck passed by with Mary still on the back of his horse. Sunny gasped and grabbed a blanket to cover the body with.

She then went to you, whispering, “You poor dear. Come ‘ere, sit by the fire.”

She covered your shoulders with another blanket and steered you to sit by the bonfire in the center of camp. You stayed there and stared at the flames. All the while, you didn’t feel the warmth. You didn’t feel the silent tears that slid down your face and dropped into your lap.

“Where’s Luke?” you heard Avery ask.

“That’s a good question,” said Sunny. She turned to her husband. “Buck?”

“I don’t know, but somebody better find him,” he replied grimly.

It was another hour before the police arrived.

You still hadn’t moved from your spot in front of the bonfire on a hard bench, but it was Cormack who gently asked you if you wanted to go back to your tent to relax until the police got around to talking to you about what happened.

You’d agreed, silently, and he helped you up. But you found that you could go no further than the couple of steps that brought you onto the platform outside of your tent. The tent you’d shared with Mary.

You couldn’t go in, and Cormack seemed to realize that. He helped you lower down to sit on the platform, with your dirty sneakers planted on the step below. He gave you a cup of hot tea as well, which you held with both hands and sipped slowly.

You only raised your head when you heard Emily’s voice exclaim in happiness. You watched her run to her father, the Sheriff. He welcomed his daughter into his arms and held her tight. Relief was painted all over his face. You heard the rumble of his voice asking her if she was all right. She just burrowed closer in the safety of his arms.

A blonde policewoman had come with him, along with a whole unit of officers. She went to question Buck and Sunny first, while Beau handled Emily, then Avery and Carla. It didn’t seem like a pleasant conversation, between the two men especially.

Don’t stare, you reminded yourself. You lowered your gaze to the dusty bottom stair between your feet. Your vision started to glaze over the longer you focused on that spot. You weren’t lost in thought. You were just…blank. This entire night still didn’t feel real.

Mary’s last words kept ringing through your mind…

“Look, I’m sorry for everything, okay?” she’d said. “I know I can be a brat sometimes…but we can talk more when I get back.”

You were interrupted from your reverie when two brown boots entered your line of vision. You looked up, and Beau Arlen was there to greet you with a look of sympathy. And yet, there was a professional set to his face that let you know you were about to be formally questioned about Mary’s death.

“Is that spot taken?” Beau asked, pointing to the space beside you on the platform. You shook your head and scooched over, so he could sit down. He sighed on his way there, greeting you with polite familiarity.

“Sheriff,” you nodded back. You set aside your mug of tea and crossed your arms, holding yourself against the chill.

You’d left the blanket by the bonfire, and your sweater had been stained with blood, after helping Buck set Mary’s body on the horse. You’d ripped the sweater off as soon as you got to camp, leaving you in just your undershirt.

“You need a jacket,” Beau remarked. He glanced back at your tent, as if he was wondering why you hadn’t gone inside to grab one. But his gaze was perceptive. Instead of asking, he shrugged out of his faux fur-lined leather jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

“Here, you can borrow this for now,” he said.

“Thank you,” you spoke in a small voice. You grasped one edge of the jacket and pulled it closer around you. It smelled like musky cologne and old leather.

Beau waved off his gesture of kindness.

“I hear you found my daughter in the woods and tried to get her back to camp,” he said. “Thank you for that.”

You glanced over at him, and tears once again shone in your eyes.

“I’m sorry she had to see…”

Beau’s gaze was heavy as he sighed and nodded again in agreement.

“I’m sorry you had to see it too,” he said. “And I’m sorry for your loss. For your friend.”

You took in a shuddering breath. New tears found familiar paths down your cheeks.

“Best friend, since college,” you said.

Beau took that in, before he asked you about the day’s events. You had to explain about Mary going missing first, then Emily, and finally Luke, who still hadn’t been found. You told everything you knew from your perspective.

When you were done, Beau reluctantly asked about the Mary and Luke situation. Your lips pursed, but your upset wasn’t at the sheriff. You knew he had to ask these questions.

“We argued about it,” you admitted. “Me and Mary. I warned her not to get involved with him, and the way Paige left camp was just one of many…but still, I should’ve been there. I shouldn’t have let her go into the woods alone! I should’ve gone with her!”

By the end, your whole body wracked with sobs. You covered your face with your hands to try and get some semblance of composure, but you just couldn’t keep it together.

“Okay, okay,” Beau said gently. He laid a hand on your back and rubbed back and forth. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I am.”

You sucked in a few tremulous breaths, sniffling. You looked up at him with red, watery eyes. He gave you a half smile.

“Sorry,” he repeated, this time for the endearment. “Like I said, got a bad habit of doin’ that.”

You shook your head with a weak curve of your lips, despite how your lower lip wobbled.

“It’s okay,” you said.

But it wasn’t. Nothing was.

You didn’t think you’d ever be okay again.

AN: 😥 I'm sorry about Mary, but I promise, it's all for a purpose, besides following canon. But let me know what you think! There will be much more of the reader and Beau in the next chapter, though you may not expect how their next meeting comes about...

Next Time:

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice.

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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#It's Not Right But It's Okay #Take Me Home #Part 2 #Beau Arlen series #big sky #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #Emily Arlen #beau arlen x you #Jensen Ackles characters #big sky season 3 #zepskies writes

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soft-for-xie-lian · 3 years

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I did it... I finished Thousand Autumns

Fair warning, this is a long post full of my ramblings about the entire book. It has spoilers. Without further ado!!

I'm going to talk about the ending first, actually! Note: there's a lot I can't speak for about the novel, like the history and culture, because I am a white American. I am speaking from a subjective opinion from my experience, with some knowledge as a writer and a reader.

It was nice to see Shen Qiao actually showing some sort of feelings for Yan Wushi in the last scene. I know he was never emotionless, but to see a moment where he actually liked Yan Wushi in a romantic way and didn't just tolerate him was... a bit overdue imo. This is the largest show of affection Shen Qiao has given towards Yan Wushi. No, I do not count any of the split personality moments. Anyway, I thought the ending was on par, perfect both character wise and plot wise. It's really hard to end a story using dialogue, but the author pulled it off, and in a hilarious way. This pleased me. 10/10

I saw some people complain about how the plot is confusing, but I didn't find it confusing at all. Thousand Autumns is not a plot driven story, it is character driven. There is no meteor about to destroy the earth, this is not man vs nature. It is man vs man. Most of the conflict happens because a character made a decision, and it impacted Shen Qiao. That's the whole novel. His sworn brothers were unsatisfied with Shen Qiao as a sect leader, and Shen Qiao suffered the consequences. Yan Wushi was bored and wanted to prove a point, so he messed with, embarrassed, and betrayed Shen Qiao. Chen Gong wanted power, so he betrayed Shen Qiao. Then later, Yan Wushi realizes he fucked up and now dedicates his time and energy to winning Shen Qiao over, whether Shen Qiao wants the attention or not.

And Shen Qiao isn't a passive main character. Yes, he deals with consequences, but he also goes for what he wants. That's the whole point of the book, that Shen Qiao will do what he believes is right literally no matter what. Shen Qiao had nothing, but he gave to Chen Gong. Shen Qiao had every reason to despise Yan Wushi, but he saved his life because it was necessary to keep the peace in the world.

Quick side note, I love that Bai Rong became a sect leader. 10/10 we love to see it

In all honesty, the only thing I care enough to complain about in this novel was the lack of consent. It is always Yan Wushi initiating. I understand there is a dom/sub culture; personally, I am not a fan of this and find it questionable, but I am not here to attack anyone who likes it. I actually enjoyed how teasing Yan Wushi is (after he stopped trying to break Shen Qiao). I loved the "unstoppable force Yan Wushi meets immovable object Shen Qiao" thing that they have. It is a great dynamic that created a lot of humor and tension. There's a push and pull to them, and at the same time a steady balance. I just hated how every "romantic" scene but like two involved Yan Wushi immobilizing Shen Qiao via pressure points. Imo kissing, much like a conversation, needs both parties to be interested and involved in order for it to be enjoyable.

And then the one (1) scene where Yan Wushi does kiss Shen Qiao while leaving Shen Qiao the option to stop him (I'll ignore the fact that Yan Wushi does emotionally manipulate him "you won't indulge a dying man?" I guess -_-), they were interrupted!! wtf I was actually into this scene T-T and then the author just. leaves it there. we don't see the aftermath of them being interrupted. Shen Qiao didn't go home, so I imagined they continued where they left off, but by the way he behaved in the next scene, it was like nothing happened. god i just!! i have been disappointed.

The author left Shen Qiao's kiss for the end of the book because it's a popular trope for someone to realize their feelings for someone after they've been seriously injured, and Shen Qiao definitely felt nothing like this the first time Yan Wushi almost died (nice parallel, btw). This trope works pretty well for this book, imo. I actually really liked that it was a forehead kiss, too. Forehead kisses are often perceived as innocent and protective, and that fits Shen Qiao's character really well, and it fits the situation of Yan Wushi's near death. Also can we appreciate the parallel of how the two people Shen Qiao ends up caring for the most (Qi Fengge and Yan Wushi) fought and won against the same dude? amazing. incredible.

I guess my final comment is that Shen Qiao is the best and I love him, and while Yan Wushi doesn't deserve him, I'm not upset that they are a couple. They have a great dynamic! I just wish Yan Wushi's dedication to Shen Qiao included a dedication to respecting his physical boundaries.

#cw i swear #?#do i even need that tag on this website lmao #thousand autumns #qian qui #c novels #chinese novels #books #meng xishi #meng xi shi #spoilers

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starlight-writes-stuff · 3 years

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‘light me up’ chapter four : blackout

a/n : hey , sorry this took forever lol . i’m working on a couple requests at the same time , and just trying to juggle everything (: this chapter is a little bit shorter than the past few (3.3k) but i promise the next two are hot fire . stick with me , okay ? xoxoxoxoxo , starlight <3

tw : panic attack , fainting

reblogs are always appreciated !

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You could feel Draco’s eyes following you all the way up the stairs, through the heavy oak door that led to your room. If looks could kill, you’d be dead and gone by now- there was a certain heat, a certain intensity behind Draco’s stare that seemed to cut right through you. Before you opened the door to your bedroom, you took a moment to prepare yourself for the onslaught of questions you were sure to receive.

You weren't prepared for the exact opposite: complete and suffocating silence. Rose didn’t even meet your eyes as you walked into the room, laying your bag down on the nearest surface, and Belle just looked you over, forcing a smile.

“I thought you were doing homework, Y/N? Are you already finished?”

The sadness and disappointment were evident in Belle’s voice and seemed to tear right through you as you took a seat on your trunk. You felt trapped- an unstoppable force against an immovable object. It seemed like the most perfect, painful paradox, and you knew that there was no getting out of this.

“Yeah.”

Belle scrunched her face, then broke eye contact. Neither of your friends could even look at you, and all you could say was ‘yeah.’ you felt wave after wave of disappointment and self-hatred roll over your shoulders, slowly crushing you. Dimly, you wondered what you looked like on the outside- could anyone see you falling into a spiral? Was it obvious, what was going on in your head? Or did you just look normal, plain as ever?

“Draco came to talk to me.”

Belle’s movements paused briefly; neither of your friends were used to his name being brought up in conversation. Draco wasn’t someone that seemed to revolve in the same universe as you guys, much less the same friends. She quickly resumed packing her bag, still not looking at you. Her voice was even and measured when she spoke again.

“How did that go?” You wanted to scream. The entire conversation felt so false, so forced, and you knew it was your fault. Before you had time to think about it, you stood up from your trunk and walked over to Rose. she was laying on her bed, reading, and didn’t bother to look up at you.

“Are you really gonna do this?”

Silence.

“Fine. You guys want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you.” you exclaimed, the words shooting from your mouth, each one coated in your spiteful, impulsive poison. “Everyone, everyone in my life leaves, okay? They get to know me, they decide that i’m too much to handle, or they don't like what they see, or whatever, and they run. Cedric promised me he would stay. He promised me,” you said, voice breaking, “that he wasn’t going to run.” to your horror you felt something wet start a trail for many down your cheek. Tears rolled from your eyes like raindrops from dark clouds, and you fell apart.

Every wall you’d ever built seemed to deteriorate in an instant, crumbling down and smothering you. You felt every part of your body be pulverized by the force of each hateful, vicious brick, every bit of blistering mortar. The violence splintered your bones and ripped your muscles at the seams. It was as if all of your nerve endings were being electrocuted, a car battery having its merry way with all the electric signals pulsing throughout your body. You couldn’t breathe- it was as if your throat was pinned shut, cruel staples cutting you off from sweet oxygen you felt your lungs decay, the pink muscle going black with the lack of the vital substance. Your emotions seemed to overtake you, never sparing you the chance for one final breath before they wrenched you down, down, down to the depths of your psyche before drowning you forever.

☁ ☁ ☁

The first thing you noticed after regaining consciousness was the sun. Something luminous and harsh was poking at your eyelids, lighting your skin with a yellowish glow. You squeezed your eyes shut before trying to blink yourself awake, realizing that the sun had been the mysterious glow. You then noticed that you weren’t in your bed, or your clothes.

This woke you up quickly. After a short investigation of your surroundings, you quickly deduced that you were in the infirmary. Belle and Rose were in beds on either side of you, both girls sitting up in some way. They were angled toward you, and each had various medical supplies: a rag, a mostly melted bag of ice, some sort of vial of pure ginger extract. Your body immediately humbled you as you tried to sit up, a skull splitting pain searing throughout your brain. You slumped back, moaning in pain.

Both of your friends woke up instantly at the noise, scrambling off of their cots and over to you. “Oh thank Merlin-”

“Get madam Pomf-”

“I'm just so glad you're okay i-”

“Jesus, Y/N, you scared us-”

“I promise i will never not talk you you again-”

A groan escaped your lips, all the noise too much for you to take in at once. Belle and Rose lowered their voices, their concern coming out in soft coos and scared murmurs. The pair seemed to have worked all the concern out of their systems, and were now assessing their next move. Belle set off to find Madam Pomfrey while Rose stayed behind, picking up one of your hands.

“What happened?”

Rose looked at you with an untraceable expression- you couldn’t read her for the first time ever. “We don’t know. It was like… you just- left. You were talking and then you started breathing like, really fast. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you were just… gone. We’ve been here all night. Madam Pomfrey said you had some sort of panic attack.”

“Merlin,” you whispered, swearing under your breath. You’d had panic attacks before, but never this severe. It had manifested physically; this was the first time it hadn’t been all in your head. You took a brief moment to collect yourself, processing the information that Rose had shared. You didn't know what you were supposed to do, or say, or anything really.

“Did someone catch me?”

Rose pulled a face, and your head throbbed. Propping yourself up on elbows, you brushed a hand over the back of your skull. You recoiled as you made contact with a massive bump on the back of your head. With more gentle fingers you inspected the egg sized lump that had taken up residence on your skull.

“It was really fast- we didn’t have time to react. Belle immediately started screaming. She thought you died. Her screams were loud enough to alert the common room- someone had already run halfway to Madam Pomfrey’s before we woke you back up. Do you remember?”

“What?” The last thing you remembered was coming up to bed after talking to Draco.

“Yeah. we woke you up after you’d passed out- only for a minute, really. You were panicked; you thought that you were drowning. You kept telling Belle and I that you couldn’t breathe, that you were sinking. Madam Pomfrey gave you something to knock you back out. You’ve been sleeping since then.”

You brought your hands back down into your lap, trying to lay back down. The bump had become more apparent now that you were fully awake; it radiated a dull, throbbing pain throughout your whole body. You looked up at Rose, who seemed to be searching your face for something.

“Are you okay?”

Rose scoffed, but the tears in her eyes seemed to betray her hard exterior. She wiped harshly at the droplets, leaving angry red smears on her cheeks. “Maybe. I don't know. For a split second- you know-” she stuttered, trying to find the words. “I thought that you died or something. Like, you were having a heart attack, and you died with me ignoring you. I was really scared.”

You blinked, taking a big breath in. “i’m sorry.”

This caught Rose off guard. You were rarely the first to apologize- your stubborn nature was one of your biggest struggles. It was also why you were so good at ignoring your emotions; until now, apparently. Right as she started to respond Belle came rushing in, Madam Pomfrey in hand.

“See, she’s awake,” Belle painted, out of breath. She must’ve sprinted all the way to the healers quarters.

You offered a weak wave to Madam Pomfrey. “Alright, Y/N?”

“Alright. Sore, but alright.”

“Gonna be sore for a while- you knocked ‘rself pretty good. How’s your memory?” she asked, starting concussion protocol. You’d sat through many of these with Cedric.

“Not bad. I don’t remember anything past going up to bed, but everything before that.”

“What day of the week is it?”

You faltered for a second, but recovered quickly. “Sunday.”

“And what house ‘re you in?”

“Slytherin.”

“Middle name?”

“Y/M/N. I’m fine, I promise. Just a little banged up.”

“What’s the date?”

“It's October 29th. I’m okay, really,” you explained, gritting your teeth against the agony that came with sitting up. Once you were upright, you grabbed for the glass of water that sat by your cot, untouched. You drank the whole thing in three sips, pouring more from the pitcher as you met Madam Pomfrey’s eyes. “Do you know what happened to me?”

“It seems as if you worked yourself into a bit of a situation, love. Do you have panic attacks often?”

“Yes.” you tried not to react to the face’s Rose and Belle made; they were hurt. You hadn’t told them that.

“Faint usually?”

“No. Never. I don't know why this time was any different,” you answered honestly. You were usually able to get yourself through your panic attacks with minimal effort- you’d been dealing with this for years. It was just something you were used to by now.

Madam Pomfey hummed as she thought, turning to rummage through some shelves. She returned with a clear, unmarked bottle, corked with what looked like a cinnamon stick. The liquid inside was clear and thin, just like water. “What is this?”

“To help with the faintness, the lightheaded feeling. Got something going for your goose egg. I’ll be back with that in a bit. Alright?” she asked again, clearly concerned.

“Fine, no worries.”

Madam Pomfrey looked to Rose, making steely eye contact. “You make sure she drinks that. Gonna get real busy here in about 20 minutes- all the quidditch players ’ll be comin’ in. want her out of here before that- too loud for a head injury. Understand?”

Looking slightly intimidated and yet determined, Rose nodded her head. As Madam Pomfrey exited your two friends looked to each other, then down at you in sync.

“How are you, really?” Belle asked, picking up one of your hands to hold. “Thought we lost you there for a minute.”

“I’m okay, really. This has never happened before. Freak accident, or something,” you explained, trying not to cringe at the ache rippling through your body. You drank another cup of water as both girls were silent. What do you say in a situation like this, though?

“Why didn’t you tell us it’s been getting bad again?” Belle asked, voice breaking and weak.

“I’m sorry.”

Rose squeezed your shoulder, drawing you attention off of Belle and her misty eyes. “I mean this from a place of love: `I’m sorry’ isn't enough anymore, Y/N. You can’t do this stuff to yourself- I won’t let you.”

Again; unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

But this time the object is fractured and frail and too drained to fight back. Not so immovable anymore.

“I didn’t think it was this bad; usually I can tell. I guess I locked myself too far down. I can’t- couldn’t- really feel anything. Blocked it all out, I think.”

“Why?”

You thought about this for a moment. Why really was the question. Why had you shut yourself down so far? Why had you let it get so bad? Why had everything gotten so bad so fast? Why had you passed out?

“I don't know. I mean- a lot has been happening, I guess. And for me… well, for me it’s better to feel nothing than to feel hurt, you know?”

Belle sniffled, and Rose murmured something to the sensitive girl under her breath. Belle nodded, and turned around. You watched your best friend’s slumped over form exit the room, the noise of her cries softening the further away she got.

“Do you remember what you were telling me before? I mean, before you passed out?”

You thought about this for a second- you remembered a tense, very strained exchange with Belle and Rose, but you couldn’t recall what it was over. Then, everything was blurry, all muffled and underwater. You did your best to sort through the memories, and landed on one of Draco Malfoy. It came back to you, how you’d left the blonde boy sitting there with no explanation after coming off rather cold. You tried to process this, a grimace building on your face.

“I remember sitting in the common room, talking to Draco. But everything is murky after that. Why?”

Rose’s face cycled through a multitude of expressions before relaxing back to something neutral again. “Why were you talking to Malfoy?”

“He came over to me.”

Rose swore under her breath, putting a hand on your shoulder as she made eye contact. “You can’t tell Belle I told you this- she doesn’t think you should know, but… anyway. When you fainted, Belle panicked, right? And Draco was the first to respond. From what she told me, he heard your name and the words ‘passed out’ and broke into a dead sprint to the infirmary. He came by to visit you early this morning- he seemed concerned.”

Your stomach tied itself into knot after knot, coiling in on itself. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this information. Why had Draco come to check on you? Why did he care?

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That's off topic, though. You don't remember what we were talking about?” Rose asked, looking earnest. You knew that you were missing a key piece of the puzzle, but you couldn’t seem to find it. You shook your head at the dark haired girl, the action sending pain reverberating through your body. Rose stilled, her body looking as if it were about to snap like a tensed rubberband. You could tell that she was having some sort of internal debate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to figure out what she was thinking. Everything hurt too bad. You wanted to go back to sleep.

You pulled the small vial from Rose’s fingers, uncorking the bottle and tossing the liquid back into your throat. You coughed and sputtered, eyes welling from the fire that seemed to be coursing its way down the back of your pharynx- you felt like you were choking for the second time in 24 hours. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Rose rushed to pour another cup of water, tipping your chin up and holding the cup to your lips. You drank it down as if you were dying, the cool liquid extinguishing the flames licking your insides.

“What is that?

Before Rose could answer, Madam Pomfrey came trotting back in, holding a lavender-colored compress. It seemed to be glowing from the inside, and emitted a sweet scent of some sort of herb that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Right then Y/N, put this on your head.”

You didn’t bother to ask what it was, seeking any sort of relief from the agony that was working its way up and down your spine. Taking the compress from Madam Pomfrey, you placed the icy cold cloth on the bump that had formed. A moan of pleasure escaped your lips as the pain seemed to be leached from your skull- it was as if it had never been there in the first place. “Wow. What is this?”

“Old recipe. Pulls the pain right out, doesn’t it? Feeling okay?”

You went to lift your hand to give the wrinkled woman a thumbs up, but your arms felt like rubber. You began to worry when you tried to push yourself up onto elbows, but couldn’t get your limbs to behave.

Madam Pomfrey sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Right- that’s a normal side effect. Weakness. Should be gone within the day. If not, come and see me again.”

You sputtered, beginning to fight back; why hadn’t she explained this to you before you’d drained the pain from your head? You began to think that you’d rather have the skull splitting ache back, but there was no way you were going back to that. The complaint died in the back of your throat as you heard a rumble approaching the infirmary.

“Oh dear, the game must’ve finished. Y/N, how's the head?”

You rolled your neck from side to side, letting it fall back against the pillow. There was a dull sort of throb, but significantly less pain than before. “Alright, I think.”

Madam Pomfrey gave you a satisfied sort of nod, then tuned to Rose. “feel okay about getting her out of here? Probably going to need to be monitored for the next few hours.”

Rose blinked, her eyebrows starting to furrow. She opened her mouth, ready to say something but before she could do so the doors to the infirmary cracked open. Quidditch players in various stages of dishevelment poured in, each calling out for Madam Pomfrey’s assistance.

And there he was.

Draco was bleeding from his lip, a stream of the crimson liquid making its way down his chin. This somehow made him look even better- you took a moment to evaluate why you were even more attracted to him now- then broke your stare, looking at Rose. “Can we go?”

“How am I supposed to get you out of here?” she asked in a harsh whisper, glaring at someone. You didn’t have to turn your head to figure out who.

“Y/N,” Draco breathed, his voice filled with concern. “You’re up. Are you okay?”

You widen your eyes at Rose, a signal. She gave you a barely perceptible nod, then you turned to give Draco a tight smile. “Hey, Malfoy. I’m fine, really.”

“What happened? You weren’t even upstairs for 10 minutes before Belle-”

“I hate to interrupt, but I really need to get Y/N up to bed. She’s on bedrest for today, so we should probably go.” Rose’s voice was unyielding and left no room for Draco to talk back. He scoured your face for some sort of answer, but couldn’t find anything in your blank expression. Finally, Draco put a hand on your arm, squeezing the completely numb limb.

“Yeah, okay. Hey, we won,” he said, a warm smile painting Draco’s lips. Your heart fluttered, jumping up into your throat as Draco’s voice dropped lower. “Drove them into the ground.”

You were disgusted by how soft your voice came out, answering the blonde boy. “Shame I couldn’t see it.”

Before the two of you could continue whatever you were doing, Rose cleared her throat. “Y/N,” she spoke, her voice hard. “We need to go. How are we leaving?”

You turned to Rose, simultaneously grateful and angry with her for ending the gentle exchange you and Draco had been sharing. “I don't know. What did Madam Pomfrey say?”

Rose squabble with the answer, biting the inside of her cheek. She seemed to realize that there was no workaround for the situation- she couldn’t lift you, and the last time she’d done a levitation spell a pillow had exploded mid-air in your shared room.

“Draco, can you lift her?”

Balls.

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davidmann95 · 4 years

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All-Star Superman #3

This is gonna be a tough one.

Not the toughest, mind you - that’s probably going to be #7. But after two issues of establishing the tone, aesthetics, and thematic concerns of the series, this is one of the pair of issues in All-Star that for the most part functions as a ‘normal’ Superman adventure story, though in this case one following up on the themes established by the previous issue, while #7 will set up the one coming after it. It’s also likely the most commonly critiqued issue of the series in retrospect its use of Lois Lane as an essentially passive figure to be fought over, and while her characterization here lends some interesting dimension to that choice, it’s hard to disagree it’s the series’ most unfortunate framing and substantial missed opportunity. None of that however can overrule that on examination, there’s still considerably more going on in here than the traditional tale of Superman beating down monsters and showing up bullies, the harsh slap to the face of reality for Clark after his actions last issue and his redemption in the form of showing what makes him different from his predecessors as the strongman-savior template.

So I haven’t talked the lettering much in this series - it is, they say, the invisible art - but Phil Balsman absolutely kills it here with KRULL WILL EAT YOU!, and the decision on the next page to render the ZEE ZEE ZEE ZEE of Jimmy Olsen’s signal watch in the font of the title pages is absolutely inspired, nevermind what he does with the Ultrasphinx later on. The bombast of the bastard lizard prince of the underworld and his cronies wreaking havoc aside though, what this page succinctly does is set up the entire conflict of the issue. It’s not just a monster, it’s a monster out of the past mimicking the cover of Action Comics #1, and apparently by way of terraforming Metropolis via steam clouds, trying to take control of Superman’s ‘world’. From Krull to Steve Lombard (“You tell me what a spaceman flying around in his underwear can give her that a good old hunk of prime American manhood can’t?”) to Samson and Atlas to the Ultrasphinx, this is a story of Superman up against dinosaurs in his image.

Ironically, however, it’s this Superman vs. Bros comic that has perhaps the most Bro sensibilities in the series. Per Morrison on the subject, “For that particular story, I wanted to see Superman doing tough guy shit again, like he did in the early days and then again in the 70s, when he was written as a supremely cocky macho bastard for a while. I thought a little bit of that would be an antidote to the slightly soppy, Super–Christ portrayal that was starting to gain ground. Hence Samson’s broken arm, twisted in two directions beyond all repair. And Atlas in the hospital. And then Superman’s got his hot girlfriend dressed like a girl from Krypton and they’re making out on the moon.” That’s not unto itself a problem; it’s a precursor to Morrison’s t-shirt and jeans reinvention in that sense (which leapt back from the 70s to the 30s for inspiration), and when Superman himself finally gets his own back here it’s more than deserved. But it becomes a problem when Lois at theoretically her literal most empowered does little with her new powers and is framed narratively as a prize to be won in this ‘game’ of godlings, with Superman literally muttering “What do I have to do to make you keep your hands off my girl?” Morrison seems to be somewhat aware of the problems given Lois’s reasons for playing along (which are actually rather significant to the point of the issue) and her amused distaste at the suggestion of being ‘won’, and the issue is ultimately something of an argument against the macho storytelling tropes that drive that thinking. But it’s a far cry from the nuanced look at her and Superman’s relationship last issue offered, and there’s no virtue in overlooking it. As will be demonstrated again later on in the series in less structurally-embedded but more pointed ways, this was written almost 15 years ago, and mistakes were made.

Now we get to the book’s superheroed-up takes on Samson and Atlas, who are such delightful assholes. Occupying the Mxyzptlk/Prankster/Bizarro-in-his-friendlier-moods role of being the enemies to make Superman go ‘oh god, this guy’ as much as direct counterparts to him, they’re basically fratboys tooling around history and getting into trouble together, and Superman’s clearly had to clean up their messes before. They’re the champions of myth who operate by a morality that in no way precluded thievery, deception, and murder in pursuit of their grand ‘heroic’ conquests, the alpha male swaggering dipshit dudebro operating on Superman’s scale. And as much as they’re a pair of craven dumbasses who literally compare cock-sizes in here who Lois has no real interest in, their appearance is also the first and one of the only times in the series Superman puffs his chest out and does some traditional iconic posing, and he has good reason to be threatened - they’re trying to ply her with gifts and tales of miraculous feats basically exactly the same way he did last issue. He may have started to come clean with her, but he’s still playing his old Silver Age nervous bachelor games, and now that she’s got powers and costume to match his she’s showing him exactly where that bullshit is going to get him, teaching him a lesson just like he tried to teach her so many once upon a time.

As we’re around the midpoint of the issue, let’s talk the art. Quitely and Grant aren’t as showy with the tricks and effects as the first two issues; the one real noticeable structural thing is a consistent rhythm of zooming in-and-out on our four leads throughout the issue to keep a sense of momentum to a story mostly driven by conversation, culminating in the hyper zoom-ins of the Ultrasphnix sequence. But GOD there are so many perfect little details in here. The bow coming undone on Lois’s present, the glow of the super-serum (it feels so right that it literally glows, the ultimate alchemical potion), Lombard’s bouquet for Lois’s birthday party while Jimmy is bringing a conch of some sort as a presumed gift to whoever they’ll be meeting at Poseidonis, Jimmy’s happy-meal looking signal watch WHICH HAS A WRISTBAND SHAPED LIKE AN S, more beautiful Metropolis architecture and a good look at how the Daily Planet globe actually works, poor dopey-lookin’ Krull bursting through the satellite twirling around like a cat in a half-second of freefall, the Chronomobile, the far-off monumental stone towers of the Subterranosauri, the glow of the lava fading out as Samson reveals Superman’s fate, the bioelectric crackle around Atom-Hotep, mermaids waving up at Superman and Lois, and of course the pinup. It’s such a damn pretty book.

Just before the arrival of the Ultrasphnix, we have the mythic architecture of the series explained to us, naturally by the figure out of myth:

As noted by Morrison, the exact nature of the 12 challenges are never explained within the story because it’s only in retrospect that history will declare those specific feats as being of note in light of them being Superman’s last accomplishments before his ‘death’; Superman himself isn’t sure how many he’s done later on. It’s an apt if seemingly out-of-left-field bit of commentary on the way epics of the kind this story itself aspires towards are reinterpreted over time, but hindsight being 20/20? That this is a story of a massively iconic, archetypal take on Superman being brought out of the public eye to his physical and emotional lowest at every turn (hence the ACTUAL structure of the series being a solar arc across the sky, from day to a nighttime journey through the underworld and back again), that is now generally thought of being a fun fluffy story of how great and perfect Superman is, entirely bears it out. The 12 Labors of Superman are what Clark’s roughest year looks like to the awestruck onlookers, both in and as it turns out in large part out of text.

After Samson and Atlas seemingly show nobler colors by offering Superman aid in a genuinely stirring moment before Superman accurately dismisses it as the empty machismo posturing it is, Ultrasphinx - yet another super-champion of the past, this one an amoral god rather than a ‘hero’ on a quest - poses the unanswerable question of what happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object with Lois both alive and dead until he does (one of those unions of opposites Morrison loves), basically creating a high-stakes literalization of their relationship. Superman and Lois Lane had been playing will-they-or-won’t-they for almost 70 years at the time this was published (culturally at least), her trying to pry into his secrets while he screwed around with her in turn, running in circles until we finally reach the acidic psychodrama of Superman’s Forbidden Room and something has to break one way or another. And Superman answers that it’s time to surrender. Has he inspired the car ad we see at the end of the issue, or vice-versa? Either way, it’s illustrating by example what the deal is with the super-labors.

Superman, learning his lesson as he has and showing his greater heroism stems from his nobility, intellect, and willingness to transcend his worst instincts, still takes a minute to teach Samson and Atlas a well-deserved lesson (paired with that absolutely perfect shot of the rock cracking on Lois’s head), before taking us to my absolute favorite statement on why Superman loves Lois Lane which also connects back to the idea of surrender, and the iconic moon shot. And as Superman holds her as she falls asleep, his Clark voice in all its vulnerable humanity manifests itself as he tries to propose; the tough guys of the past wanted Lois for a day when she was finally operating on ‘their level’, Superman ‘lowers’ himself to his most human alongside her reassumed mortality as he tries to tell her he wants her for what lifetime he has left. We’re only halfway there at most, he still hasn’t admitted his condition and she still can’t accept that he’s Clark, but this is Superman taking his first step along his quiet character arc.

Additional notes

* Interestingly, the original solicitation for this issue declared “Meanwhile, Lex Luthor's plans simmer as the criminal mastermind exerts his charisma and intellect over the hardcore inmates who share his maximum-security prison.” One of many bits that changed in the process of actually putting the book together.

* Perhaps this story of very manly men out of time doing manly stuff and getting their asses kicked for it across generations is represented in part by Krull being the son of a king whose battle cry is KRULL WILL EAT YOUR CHILL-DRUNN! That might be reading a *bit* much into it though. That Morrison describes Krull in backmatter however as “the living embodiment of the savage, swaggering ‘R Complex’ or reptile brain” definitely plays into the ideas of the issue as I understood them.

* Jimmy’s declaration of “Ms. Grant, Mr. Lombard, I’m taking immediate steps” is a perfect little moment for him - he’s calm and on top of things, but there’s also that little touch of naive ego in thinking that it’s thanks to him that Superman’s going to notice the dinosaur invasion of Metropolis.

* In backmatter and interviews Morrison had substantially further fleshed-out backstories for several of the new characters here. Samson is indeed the original champion, plucked from his era by a pair of foolish time-travelers searching for a savior; instead, enamored and corrupted by future culture he stole their malfunctioning Chronomobile and went on adventures to slake his lust, for fortune, flesh, and adventure alike. Atlas meanwhile is the boisterous yet quietly burdened young prince of the New Mythos, a society of super-godlings torn between New Elysium and Hadia, Morrison’s vision of a Jack Kirby Olympian saga for DC following in the wake of Thor’s Norse myths rather than the full-blown invention of the New Gods. And the Ultrasphinx “is the super-champion of a lost Egyptian Atomic Age in the 80th century BC. When he crashed to Earth his otherworldly science founded the advanced, ancient dynasty of Atem-Hotep [sic], a civilization eventually destroyed by the nuclear war that left Northern Africa a desert”. A. Morrison backmatter rules and you should read it whenever you get the chance, and B. This notion of proto-civilizations mirroring the eventual legends of a mere handful of millennia past is one he followed much further in Seven Soldiers of Victory with Shining Knight and its antediluvian Camelot.

* The main inspiration for this particular story was the frequent use of ancient strongmen as rivals to the Man of Steel in the Silver Age, which Morrison noted preferring to the use of analogue characters like Majestic for their broad cultural standing, culminating in this:

...though with Atlas swapped in, as Marvel already had the definitive take on Hercules in superhero comics (and, one imagines, since putting Hercules in the comic where Superman gets 12 labors would have had to be addressed), though he’d tackle him later on in the...controversial Wonder Woman: Earth One. Morrison’s analysis of this cover in Supergods basically lays out the thesis of this issue quite cleanly: “This was what happened when you couldn’t make decisions or offer any lasting commitment. Samson pounced on your best girl. And for Superman, it was a horrific challenge to his modernity. Was he really no better than these archaic toughs? Or could he prove himself stronger, faster than any previous man-god?” Fun fact: I myself hate this comic because it’s an entirely standard issue that fully returns to status quo by the end, sullying the good name and promise of Imaginary Stories for nothing more than fooling readers into thinking this was one of the issues were anything could really happen. Shameful false advertisement.

* Worth noting this is a rare instance where the glowing-red angry heat vision eyes work for me. Those two were real dicks and had it coming, and for that matter Superman looking for all the world a wrathful god promising banishment to a very different sort of underworld more than underscores his relative position next to the suitably abashed adventurers.

* It’s an interesting choice to use Poseidonis here, the capital city of Aquaman - it’s a sensible place for Superman to travel (though the real implications regarding the Justice League in this world won’t be for awhile yet), but it’s Tritonis that’s the undersea home to Superman’s onetime love, the mermaid Lori Lemaris. Perhaps Morrison just didn’t want a subset of readers in the know and pining after all these decades for Clark to find succor in the arms of his fishy love to dwell on that particular what-could-have-been; either way, Atlantis in general as what sprung up from a devastated ancient civilization is a perfectly logical inclusion for this issue in general.

* Lois’s description of her super-senses is not only lovely, but sets up the victory of #12 right in the first act. Additionally Lois keeping a cactus is such a perfect little bit for her character - it’ll prick ya, but she’s working to keep the thing alive.

* The journeys to the moon and ‘underworld’ for this issue, but in playful and romantic contexts, marks this issue as the (depending on whether you read it as a 4 or 6 issue arc) final installment before All-Star Superman begins its structural descent into the night.

* A very happy birthday to Justin Martin (and a day-before-birthday to myself) with this, annotations of the issue of All-Star Superman about a birthday. Birthdays themselves being a signpost of time and evolution, a forward march, making it a potent occasion to highlight in this series in general and this installment in particular.

#All Star Superman #Superman #Lois Lane #Grant Morrison #Frank Quitely #Jamie Grant #Phil Balsman #Bronze Age #Sexism #Art #Opinion #Analysis

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boogaloomagoo · 4 years

Text

Date: 2/24/2020

Setting: Trudeau household

Characters: Margot and August Trudeau

Notes: Margot and her father have a heart to heart; much is conveyed without actually being spoken.

"Dad... I just want you to know that I care about you-- No, no he already knows that, what's the point in saying it again?... Okay, um - Dad, it's been a while since we've talked about this... and I know you don't like bringing it up around this time of year, but... but..." The blonde's eyes slipped shut, tight with obvious frustration in her furrowed brow, and she flopped unceremoniously onto the worn-in couch nestled in their living room. "But I... have no idea what I'm doing," How? How was she supposed to bring this up casually? The conversation with Josephine had helped a bit, but for the most part Margot still felt entirely unprepared in how to address the issue as a whole. Twenty minutes of sinking into the couch had passed before her father finally returned home from his first shift at Alain's garage. "Magoo?" "In here, dad," She hollered from the living room, attempting to fix her features into something that resembled a welcoming, peaceful expression rather than the inner turmoil broiling within. When he entered and flopped down beside her, jostling the couch frame just a bit with his large stature, an arm immediately curled around her shoulders. "Hey, sweet pea," For a while, they talked about his day; Margot was off from her own job, which meant she could focus entirely on her father’s. So far, he liked what he was doing, seemed to get along with most of the staff, etc. Good. This was starting off good. Though after a few more exchanges, he wore a skeptical expression, as if sensing just what she was attempting to conceal the entire conversation, and he finally inquired. "So... What's goin' on in that head of yours?" Nothing. Everything? Did it ever stop going, around and around like a malfunctioning carousel that had lost any and all semblance of fun and merriment; the horses snarled as their nostrils flared in anger, painted eyes crimson fire that raged as their hooves stampeded ceaselessly. 'Round, 'round and 'round it goes, where it stops?... Her words began slow, even - paced from myriads of time running this exact conversation through her head. "I've just... been thinking about some stuff. A lot of stuff, actually, but-- the main one is about us. About you," She expected the crease between his brows, the way his lips quirked off to the side - such in the same manner her own did when contemplating what another person was saying or explaining. "Okay. What about us -- or me?" Take it slow and steady, she reminded herself. Ease into it but don't beat around the bush. Just be honest, upfront, but gentle. How did all of these methods somehow coincide to actually breach a subject cohesively? It felt as though her brain would implode from employing even one, let alone all. The blonde took a deep inhale through her nose, allowing the oxygen to flow in and held it one beat, two; exhale. "I know it's been hard. Settling in here. But, I hoped getting the job might help both of us... and I'm so glad you like it," She paused there to give something of a wilted smile in his face, and her fingers found purchase atop his knee, gently squeezing. "You're meeting new people, getting more comfortable. And I know that's hard for you, and me, but, we're doing okay. Like, genuinely okay... and I'd also like to try something else. To help us both start to feel like we can... actually find a home here, y'know?" The mild confusion in his expression would have served to heighten her anxiety, but there was a nod, a well-meaning tint to his eyes as he attempted to understand better. Well, no going back now, was there? "I'd like us to go to family therapy. For... for some closure," She had hesitated, due to her father's body tensing at the mention of the 'T' word. An unspoken agreement had been enacted between them years ago, that Margot shouldn't bring it up whatsoever because it wasn't necessary. He had no issues for whatever help she sought for herself, had even accompanied her on a few visits as a child with a guidance counselor. But whenever the subject shifted to focus on his own needs and status, it was hitting a re-enforced concrete wall. No budging. And if he resigned himself to being the immovable object, then, she would simply have to become the unstoppable force. "Margot..." The rejection seemed ready to roll off his tongue; but she wouldn't take it this time. Not without making her case clear. "Dad, I know how you feel about it. I do. And I respected that you wanted to deal with things your own way - I haven't brought this up in over six years, and in all that time, I still see you falling into the same routine you said you wouldn't," Meandering around the house, in a stupor of some sort - inhabiting the spaces they shared as a partial ghost, sometimes fully content to haunt the corridors and hallways. While all she could do was gently tug and nudge him around, hoping he might resurface from the depths of grey murk he seemed far too resigned to sink beneath on a daily basis. "Getting the job is an amazing start. But this isn't just about you, like I said -- it's for both of us," The blonde staved off a broken sigh, edging forward onto the couch and clasping both hands between her knees. Her heart never seemed to weigh heavier than it did when thinking about her - but it was unavoidable, and that was the point. They needed to think about it, right? That was the point to moving forward? "I try being positive. Every day, I would force myself to smile and face the day like I... I feel she would have wanted me to. But, lately... ever since we moved here, I-I haven't felt like I need to do that anymore," Didn't want to. Fingers rose to touch her forehead, automatically settling upon the divot between her brows. An ache almost always settled there whenever stress was involved, and now was no exception. "I've done it because I feel like I've had to. That if I didn't smile and act happy, that we'd both just fall into this abyss... this cycle of milling around and feeling sorry for ourselves. And I think that's because we just-- haven't talked about it. We run, and run, and for a while we're okay, but then we just start it all over again, and, I-I don't want to run anymore - not from anything," Her gaze, glazed over with unshod tears, settled on his worn features, lower lip trembling. "We deserve to live, dad. And I think that means settling, getting to know people, making new memories... letting ourselves properly grieve. Not forget, but..." Let go. She couldn't say it, though. He might react badly to that wording, and with the ache of tears swallowing up every other sense and reaction, she didn't know any other way to phrase it. Thank whatever deity that might have taken favor upon them that her father wasn't a thick man. Their very nature stemmed from being able to communicate multiple ways - talking was only one of them. When he removed his arm from around her, there was a sudden coldness that threatened to slide it's bony finger along her spine. But it was quickly replaced with the warmth of large, warped but tender palms encompassing her own. He had knelt down in front of her, gaze locked onto their clasped hands. "I never meant to... All these years, I thought I was doing the right thing. Keep us moving, keep us safe -- that was the priority," Margot felt herself grow weak, wanting to argue that he had done as good a job as possible, better than she could have ever accomplished herself. But he finally peered up at her through thick brows, and her weakness reflected in the tremor of his own lips. "I robbed you of so much, growing up. A normal childhood. Adulthood... and I've been making you pay the price for something that was never your fault," "Dad..." Her voice broke, trails of saline finally trickling down her cheeks, head swaying from side to side. "You never have to apologize for... for wanting to keep me safe. Please, don't ever feel like I'll resent you or hate you for it, I... I understand," Seeing his only child weep was enough to bring a moisture to his own gaze, hazel glistening as he nodded, stilted yet insistent. "I will, though. I'll always be sorry. And you're right - I never wanted to admit it before, it... always felt like admitting I was a failure. That that kind of help meant I had failed you, and your..." His voice cracked on the word he couldn't bring himself to say, one hand removed to pinch the bridge of his nose as large shoulders shook with a whimper. Margot had lowered herself to his level in an instant, arms wrapped around his torso and face buried into the crook of his neck. They had fallen apart so many times, in such a similar fashion; tears, an embrace, apologies for wrongs they hadn't truly committed and yet could never settle right within them. They were broken in every sense of the word, but in these moments, strange as it seemed, letting the sadness flow remained one of the few times Margot felt truly whole. Alive. His palm curved into the threads of her hair, gently cradling her head and petting the locks. An attempt to calm them both down as the wave of emotions ran it's course. When he spoke again, his voice warped by the strain born from sobbing, Margot felt her heart swell. "We'll go together. I can't... promise that it'll be easy for me. But I'll be damned if I won't try, okay?" She nodded, tear-stained cheeks smothered against his warm neck. "That's all I ask. I'll be with you every step of the way. I promise," His head bobbed a few times in succession, the determination seemingly surging between them, strengthening them both. Words were intriguing, useful things; but touch... the embrace of a loved one. It would always remain a language far preferred by the Trudeau's.

#para: self #para;

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babywarg · 6 years

Text

ironstrange fic: Star-Man

this fic is almost totally SFW, but in case it’s too much for tumblr's delicate sensibilities and i give it the vapors, i’ll be uploading it into my AO3 account soon.

also, taking the opportunity to announce that i have a twitter here: https://twitter.com/babywarg i'm sure this theme has been used in fic before, in a much better way...but i woke up this morning wanting to give mah boiz angst and would not be denied. title may or may not have been inspired by david bowie's song of the same name. that, plus the notion that people who go round in space age really, really slowly compared to us mere mortals. have you guys seen this uber-cute and uber-touching fan art by 黒雨? you really should. it may help set the tone for this fic. or not. but look at it anyway because it's uber-touching and uber-cute: https://twitter.com/blackrain_1019/status/1043466939480174592 many thanks once again to my wonderful beta @eclair <3 on to the dramu! ***

Tony threw his arms out wide. "You wanted to see me, doc?"

The playful look on his face made it look like he was angling for a hug. But it wasn't a good time for hugs. Not right now.

"Tony," Stephen carefully began, "I'm going away for a while..."

Tony's arms fell to his side. A look of worry crossed his face.

"To where?" he asked. "How long?"

The questions sounded so innocent, they might as well have belonged to a 7-year-old boy who had no idea he was going to be abandoned by his parents. For good.

He almost seemed too young, too simple to understand what was going on - but those were words that had never before been used to describe Tony Stark.

"A long time," Stephen answered. "Something's come up. Can't we just leave it at that?"

Tony began to frown. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't know, can we? Or maybe you know me better than that, Steve."

Steve. The name was a dagger in Stephen's chest. He should never have let Tony know about it. No one had called him that in years, and whenever Tony did it, he only ever did it with complete awareness of how much it hurt.

"I do know you better than that. You deserve an explanation."

"Damn right I do. And you better give me a straight one. No tricks."

Stephen avoided the dare, looked around. "Maybe we should sit."

"Maybe right here is fine." The tone was cold. But still a good deal warmer than unforgiving.

Stephen sighed, and obliged. "Tony...there's a presence approaching the Earth. It's strong. Very strong. I haven't found a way to repel it. The only thing I've found is that..."

"What?" Tony interrupted. "That it's useless for you to look up how to defeat it on your own?" His voice became softer, almost pleading. "Dude, you're an Avenger now, remember? You're part of a team. That means you get people to pass some of the hard labor on to."

Stephen had to smile. Tony prided himself on being the fix-it guy. He liked being hands-on. Thrived on it.

It was Tony's familiar way of saying "let me help you." But Stephen couldn't afford to listen.

"As the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme," Stephen softly replied, "I'm afraid all of the hard labor is on me."

He proceeded to explain that the presence was a uni-dimensional entity, drawn to planets with vast reserves of psychic power - in short, planets with their own Sorcerers Supreme to defend them.

It fed off psychic energy, and when it was done with one planet, it became more powerful, so that the next planet on its path only had less of a chance to survive. Somehow it was able to detect which planets had a Sorcerer Supreme less able to withstand its assault. It had already left several planets completely destroyed on its aimless journey, each planet's Sorcerers Supreme powerless against it.

There was only one way to avoid it...

And that was to pretend that the Earth had NO Sorcerer Supreme.

"Simply put, the creature needs to think the Earth isn't worth bothering with." There was no time to delve into the intricacies of psychic hierarchies, the fact that there were records in magical tomes of this having been done successfully by other Sorcerers Supreme before, laws on unstoppable objects vs immovable forces not applying to preternatural opponents...and of course the futility of moving the Earth out of the creature's path, so he chose to leave those little details out. "While I'm gone, I'll make sure that the Earth will be enveloped in a deceptive shield - sort of a large flashing sign that says 'Nope, no Sorcerers here, not an astrally advanced enough species' so that the entity, whenever it gets here, will move on."

"You didn't answer me," Tony acidly interrupted, and Stephen froze. "Where are you going? How long will you be gone?

"Other worlds. Maybe other dimensions. Being away gives me less of a chance of being ferreted out. And 20 years." He shrugged. "Give or take."

He didn't quite expect Tony's tantrum afterwards. Or maybe he did. He just never thought it would affect him as much.

"20 years?" Tony yelled, close to his face. "20 fucking years, Stephen?!"

At least it wasn't "Steve." That way, Stephen could take the heat.

Tony paced back and forth, fuming.

"What did you expect to hear from me? Good luck, have fun, bring me back a souvenir? Take me with you? I can't believe it, you're just telling me this! You didn't even think of asking me before making such a huge decision, did you? About asking the other Avengers?"

"I have no time to brainstorm with you, or with the rest of the team," Stephen answered calmly. "The entity is coming tonight. I need to get this done now."

"Get 'this' done? What --"

Stephen stepped up to Tony.

Planted his palm gently on Tony's forehead.

Whispered into Tony's ear, "Hush."

There was a brief flash of light where their skin made contact.

And it was over.

Memory spells aren't reliable, the Ancient One had said to him. You can pick and choose the memories you want gone, but there's no assurance they'll STAY gone. You'll have to live with the consequences, Stephen, no matter what.

Tony staggered back. Seemed disoriented for a minute.

Then, his gaze refocused, and he spread his arms wide.

"You wanted to see me, doc?"

There was no playfulness in his voice, this time. Only curiosity.

He'd come because he was summoned. By the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme.

Not by Stephen. Or Steve. Not by anyone he knew more intimately.

Stephen had to fight for the pain to not to reach his face.

One year of fights, of trysts, of kisses, stolen or otherwise, of promises and curses and unspoken vows.

Of love.

Gone.

"Tony," Stephen carefully began again. His voice might have broken slightly, but he hadn't meant it to. "I'm going away for a while."

***

Time moves differently across universes and worlds, and there's much a Sorcerer Supreme could do in 20 Earth years. There were new species to meet, new magic to learn, many new things to discover.

In the meantime, Stephen drew only enough power from the energies around him (not the dark dimension: never that) so that he never aged, never slowed down.

At any rate, it was always a temporary arrangement.

It was the entity's fault for moving too goddamn slowly. 20 years was the minimum wait time for it to pass. If the psychic energy-eating behemoth had been moving faster, it wouldn't be as hard for anyone.

As it stood, Stephen had to wait it out. He had no contact with anyone from Earth, no one who might betray his location to the creature, or compromise his resolve to stay away. This meant Wong, Christine...or Tony Stark.

And then if, after 20 years, he returned to find the Earth in pieces, he planned on using the Time Stone to look back at where things went wrong, then to go back in time, and use the knowledge he'd acquired in all his years away to fix it.

But! If nothing bad had happened to the earth while he was gone...then, well, Doctor Strange's gamble had paid off.

No one knew that he and Tony had a sort of relationship, so no one else's memory needed to be wiped. All he had to take care of was Tony - headstrong, shrewd Tony, who would defy logic and move heaven and earth to find Stephen and be with him again...potentially leaving the Earth unprotected as he went on his futile search.

- that is, if he even remembered what he needed to find Stephen for.

Stephen’s reasoning was this: If Tony's memories of their year together were dealt with, there would be no complications. The Earth would never lose its best defender. And upon his return, they would just be friends again, colleagues again, Avengers again.

Stephen's 20-year escape plan would be so very simple.

And yet...

There were times when he missed Tony so fiercely, that he contemplated visiting other dimensions, other realities, where Tony existed and he didn't. Where there was no Stephen for Tony to fall in love with. Or where they both existed, but were not in love, and would never be. Perhaps they would never even meet.

At the same time, he knew that visiting other dimensions was a risky thing, and there might be no way back for him...especially if he found a particular dimension where he wanted to stay.

There were times when small things he encountered on his journeys reminded him of Tony, and he had to steel himself to prevent his own memories from leaking out and buoying him back to Earth.

There were times when he wished...that when he finally did come home, Tony would remember.

And greet him with open arms. Obnoxiously strong embraces. Warm, fuzzy kisses. The brightest of laughs.

And a ton of stories and shared memories, "remember when"s that would bring a smile to his lips.

And forgiveness.

He often contemplated using the memory spell on himself, but he decided against it for a number of reasons.

One of them was that he deserved to suffer.

There should have been time for a proper goodbye. Then, maybe, being without Tony wouldn't hurt this much.

But it did, and it should.

The only way Tony would end up remembering their time together would be if Stephen's memory spell would fail. And he had worked hard at making sure it would not fail. He had erased every single private moment he and Tony had shared. He had only left the missions, the camaraderie, the mutual respect they had for each other as men of science, as soldiers.

No room for sentiment. No drawbacks.

No tricks.

***

Approximately 20 years later, a Stephen Strange who looked and sounded exactly as he did when he left, braced himself, and opened a portal back to Earth.

And...

He came back to a technological marvel.

Stark Industries had become the world's leading source of scientific innovations - a world that left hardly any room in it for magic. Everything was efficient, streamlined, for a faster and less patient civilization. Shielded from the biggest psychic threat it had ever experienced, and protected by the Avengers and their affiliates from most physical dangers, the Earth experienced a new technological renaissance.

And in the front and center of it all was Tony.

He looked great, for the record. Salt-and-pepper hair and beard, wrinkles where there didn't used to be any, lean and strong-looking even with muscles less defined - but still, brown eyes that shone with intelligence, wonder, and an unquenchable inner light. Still with impeccable (if now old-fashioned) sense of style.

He greeted Stephen with a firm, hearty pat on the shoulders, like a compatriot would.

(This older Tony would never call him “Steve.” Would never push his buttons knowingly. Would never demand to be part of his life outside the battlefield.)

"Back like a star-man, hasn't aged a day," Tony quipped. "Welcome home, star-man."

Stephen only smiled.

He would have been happy to leave their first meeting at that. But back in his old and dutifully preserved Sanctum, he was surprised to find a pre-recorded message from Tony.

In it, Tony insisted on taking Stephen around, as soon as his schedule (Tony's, not Stephen's) permitted. So many things about the world had changed, Tony explained, and who better to keep the bewilderment at bay than one of the chief architects of this bright new future?

Stephen was about to refuse first thing in the morning - one of the mystic arts he'd mastered was, in fact, adapting to radically unfamiliar environments, so "bewilderment" was hardly ever an issue.

But before dawn of the next day, Tony had already parked a very flashy red hovercar in front of the large symbol on his Sanctum, and had woken him - and all the other residents of the Sanctum - up by knocking loudly on the glass and yelling like an attention-starved child.

The rest of the day was basically a joyride through high-tech New York and its environs, with hyper-verbal Tony gladly playing the role of tour guide. It was true, so much had changed - but not Tony.

Exploring a new reality with a deeply familiar Tony turned out to be pleasant.

It was - did he even dare think it? - very much like a date.

Tony all but physically bent over backwards trying to impress him, introducing new and upcoming inventions like a toddler showing off his toys, and how clever he was.

Stephen remembered when Tony used to do that almost every day. He couldn't help it: he still found it charming.

More than once, he caught Tony staring at his face. Whenever he did, Tony would draw attention off it by blurting out an idea or an interesting anecdote from the last 20 years.

And, more than once, Stephen thought he felt Tony standing a little too near, leaning a little too close to him.

He told himself: his own guilt must have been playing tricks on him. Tony didn't remember. He couldn't.

***

The day ended late, with Stephen feeling exhausted. No doubt Tony did as well, because the two men stood on the Stark Tower (v.3.6) deck side by side, without saying a word.

It was like they both knew the hour of parting had come, but neither wanted to admit it.

Presently, Stephen took the reins. "I have to go, Tony."

From where he stood, he could feel Tony stiffen up in alarm.

"To where? How long?"

They were strange questions to ask, and Tony knew it. He dropped his flustered gaze.

"You mean the Sanctum. Of course. Well, it is kind of late, doc. Must be past your bedtime."

Stephen smiled.

"Past yours, too, old man," he couldn't resist shooting back.

Tony stayed silent, not looking at him. Stephen guessed this meant there was no offer of a hovercar ride back to the Sanctum. No matter.

He started to walk away, to a clearer space where he could set up a portal home - but Tony's hand shot out and caught the hem of his cloak.

He stopped. Looked back at Tony. Who still wasn't looking at him. Still wasn't letting go.

"Old man. Yeah, that's me." Tony's voice was so hushed, it was difficult to hear him. "Too old to suit up. Should've ditched all of my suits, or given them away to young blood, but I haven't. Sometimes I take one of them out and go off looking for something. Sometimes I end up finding trouble, but most of the time, I don't find anything at all."

He let go of the cloak, but Stephen didn't go anywhere. He stood, facing Tony, who was starting to seem agitated.

"And I don't know why I'm telling you this, except it feels like I've finally found what I've been looking for. All this time. All this time. And I can finally take off the suit now. Because that's it. I'm done. And..."

His voice broke.

His shoulders started to shake.

He hid his face with one hand, and folded an arm across his chest - folded into himself, in a desperate attempt to hide.

But Stephen didn't let him. Not after all this time.

He drew his arms around Tony. Held him close. As close as he should have held him last time. And all those other times they'd missed.

Tony buried his face in Stephen's shoulder. He let Tony break against him. Wave upon wave of grief and longing and regret crashed down upon them both. It felt to Stephen like standing in front of a storm, and he felt like breaking, too.

A quick, furtive look into Tony's mind said he didn't remember. Not a single detail of their lost year together.

But he didn't have to. The memories weren't stored in his mind.

They were in his aging body, his cells, the very fabric of his being.

As they were in Stephen's.

All this time.

When he had calmed down a bit, Tony stood back, still holding on to Stephen’s arms, and let out a small, bitter chuckle.

"I don't know why I'm asking you this. Think of it as a pathetic old geezer's wish." He looked up at Stephen's face. "But...stay. This time. Please. No tricks."

It was the look in his eyes that finally got to Stephen, reached in and tore him inside out.

He closed the distance between them again and planted a long, lingering kiss in Tony's hair before Tony could see the first tear fall.

"No tricks," he gently promised.

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony shasteen #doctor strange #iron man #ironmagic

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teatinblix · 6 years

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here it be, the spades smut

well ya’ll asked, here u go. Almost-smut between Skip and the Spades King pffff.

I guess the gist of it is??? Skip ends up dropped into the Deltarune universe out of the Undertale universe? And her memory vanishes upon waking up there, so she’s stuck in this RPG world, armed with a cool, bigass warhammer (’cause why not), and becomes...a Vigilante~ fightin’ against the tyrant regime lmaoo In this she’s pretty damn evenly matched with the King? So they’re constantly fighting and duking it out. And over time, tension of the spicy sort begins to rise??? fuck man, idk. I made Skip deal with my Weird Thirst, and now ya’ll can have it pfff.

It’s under the cut for NSFW shit, so no clicking if you ain’t 18+ pffff!

They stand, panting and exhausted, each of them wrung to the very end of their rope.

Craters from the Vigilante’s hammer dot the floor and walls. Numerous spades, sharp as knives, litter the room as well, stabbed deep into every surface.

The King is bruised and beaten, and the Human bleeds from a small handful of nicks on her arms, and one on her cheek.

They’ve done this song and dance before. A few times. Multiple times. Numerous times.

No matter what the other did, the two always seemed to be evenly matched. Where he was all brute force and strength, she was speed and agility. Their strengths and weaknesses met in the middle, like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

Skip, the Human, the Lightner stands, back pressed to the marble wall of his otherwise abandoned throne room. And he, the King, stands a few scant inches away from her. One of his massive arms leans against the wall above her, his hand clenched into a tight fist.

He has the knife-like point of his Spade-Whip to her throat, and she has the spear-like pommel at the end of her hammer against his chest, over just where his inverted heart of a Soul would be.

“...It seems,” he begins, his voice like thunder in her ears. “...We are at an impasse, yet again.”

“Looks like,” she bites back.

Neither of them move for a moment.

And it’s unclear who moves first.

He dips down, ignoring the sting of the pommel, and she tips up, ignoring the bite of the spade, and they meet in the middle in a starving, hungry kiss with an intensity that easily matches their battle.

The King is the first to let his weapon drop from her neck. He knows she doesn’t have it in her to kill him, even with the advantage he just handed her. And he grins against her lips when she growls, and she knows that he’s mocking her for her pacifism and mercy.

But, she doesn’t draw away or do anything to stop him, and so he doesn’t.

His hand, now free after letting go of the Spade-Whip, curls around her hip, large enough to almost completely wrap around her middle with just his one hand. Slowly, he lifts her from the floor, sliding her up the wall.

When he dares to slip his tongue into her mouth, she finally drops her own weapon. When she grasps at the cloak at his neck as if for dear life, he pauses to relish the feeling, realizing that perhaps he has never felt a triumph this strongly before.

Now holding her a good foot and a half up the wall, his hips arc, pinning her to the marble and she gasps into the rough kiss. It’s a sound he wants to hear again, and he grins even wider, so wide that it’s difficult to keep the kiss going with all of his teeth as bared as they now are.

He’s quick to give that up, tilting his head, one large hand curling around the back of her neck, tipping her head to the side for him so he can drag that blue tongue across the exposed skin there.

She all but writhes in his hold, flushed and panting, clinging to him like she’s worried he might up and vanish.

For a moment--just a moment--she hesitates though. Something distant and...confused darts behind her eyes, and something like a memory makes her wince. A charming, kind smile and a warm coat in the cold. The sound of a cheerful laugh and the touch of a soft, dry hand against her back.

The Spade-Whip shifts up and curls around one of her legs like a snake, and the rounded, blunt side of the spade presses between her legs, rubbing against her inner thighs. It only has to ease up, just a tiny bit more, and it slides against her core.

Whatever the memory was, it shatters, disappearing like sparks, and she moans again. Now she’s the one to buck her hips, and when he laughs against her throat it makes her entire body thrum with the vibration.

He’s already readying himself to pull her from the wall and carry her to his throne. He’d be lying through his massive fangs if he said he’d never wanted to have his way with her there. And with the way her knees press together and her hands dig at his shoulders to keep him close, she’d damn well beg him to, if he didn’t hurry it up.

He lifts his mouth from her throat, a line of deep, purple marks along her sensitive skin from both his teeth and tongue, his hand tightening around her hip-- “FATHER!” Lancer all but bursts into the throne room, his bike’s engine roaring.

Skip slams a boot into the King’s gut, and it’s a powerful enough hit to make him gasp and stumble back, releasing her completely and catching his balance. His Spade-Whip zips back into the open maw in his belly, and he has to fight down the urge to scream at his son for his interruption.

“I wanted to--Oh!” Lancer pauses, completely oblivious to the moment he’d just destroyed. He grins cheerfully, and waves a hand at the Lightner. “It’s Miss Skip! My favorite Hammer Toting SuperHeroine!”

Skip is still trying to catch her breath, but she’s always got the energy to give the boy a smile at least, and she even waves at him a little. She reaches down and grabs her massive warhammer from the floor, praying that she didn’t look as flushed and disheveled as she felt. “What,” the King begins, his voice low and dangerous enough to catch Lancer’s full attention again. “...Do you want. Son.”

“...Uh…” Lancer pauses, frowning in thought. “...Hold on, let me think for a second, I just forgot.”

The King grits his teeth so hard that he’s surprised he doesn’t crack one.

“...Oh! Lesser Dad found a REALLY cool worm! It’s all blue and has these little glowy pink spots all over it! Do you wanna come see?”

The King lifts a hand, dragging it over his face. “...No,” he finally growls.

“What?” Lancer’s shoulders sag. “How come?”

“The Lightner and I are busy.”

“Miss Skip? But she left.”

“What--” The King whips around, and sure enough, Skip is nowhere to be seen. Frustration bubbles up even stronger in his chest, and his fists clench, snarling under his breath.

“Yeah she climbed right out the window. She’s so cool.”

For a moment the King can only GLARE at the spot he’d almost had his prize. He’d been so damn close, so fucking close… but after a moment, his furious scowl melts into a smirk.

She’d come back.

She always came back.

#hahaha oh gross #note: this ain't any sort of redemption arc or anything for the King #he's a horrible no good very bad garbage person and i totally acknowledge that #however in my defense #him big #and him got them teeths #so fuck #deltarune #spades king #fanfic #also i wanna note this aint noncon in any way shape or form #healthy? hell no #but noncon? also hell no

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team-crtq · 7 years

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Volume 5 episode 4 review

(In case you’re wondering, no we haven’t forgotten episode 3, Regalia is having a lovely time dealing with college. But don’t worry she will have the review out as soon as she can.)

A shorter episode to look over today, but boy is there still a bit of ground to cover. Let’s do it!

So we start with Yang driving the guy who she punched out back in episode 1 to what she hopes is the bandit camp where Raven is located. To no one’s surprise, toothless set up an ambush. I wanted to look at Yang’s overall demeanor here, I couldn’t help but compare it to her demeanor here to the one back in the Yellow trailer. Back in the Yellow trailer her demeanor before the fight was jokey, playful, and eventually really aggressive. Here? Cold and distant, it was almost like this was an inconvenience to her. It’s sort of a nice touch to her fairy-tale allusion of Goldilocks. First she was too hot, now a bit too cold. She may have taken the first step to recovering from the events of volume 3 but if her continuous grabbing of her arm after fights is any indication, she still needs more time to fully recover or to put it this way before she’s “just right” mentally.

Anyways, eventually a fight breaks out, and...well it was ok. It felt a little too slow paced, and oddly floaty at some points. So eh, there are better fight sequences but its inoffensive for how short the fight was. Once the fight was over toothless confirms that the bandit camp he pointed out moments before is being ran by Raven and that he wasn’t just taking her for a ride. Only for him to get a revelation about Yang and Ravens relation himself and proceeds to regret recent life choices.

We then move into Oscar and Ruby training in hand to hand combat and nothing says friendship like socking someone in the face. And it looks like Ruby has been taking notes on how to look scary while angry from Yang. It’s nice to see how awkward the two are when it comes to hand to hand, and that becomes pretty apparent when Ozpin takes over for a moment to fight (and he was probably looking for an excuse to punch a teen honestly, the troll). We get some explanation about aura. The part with Oscar explains what happened with Sienna and Adam well enough I suppose. Basically even if Sienna had hers unlocked, she was caught of guard before she could put it up, and I have a feeling this will not be the last time we see things like this happening. We also get some insight to how a semblance may form, like how Ren’s was formed in volume 4, and apparently Nora got stuck by lightning one day (I sense a RWBY Chibi skit in the future). Though they noted there is not a straight forward way of getting it. Jaune seems to be disheartened because he still hasn’t found his yet despite training for it. I mean, it’s understandable why he still hasn’t gotten his, but that would weigh on anyone. Ruby being Ruby looks to try and comfort both Jaune and Oscar about it. It’s nice to see Ruby still running from her own problems by helping out others, still shows her leadership skills despite not having her team with her. Ozpin also says something along the lines of semblances can develop even further than one might expect. (cause that’s not a hint to the audience or anything).

My main complaint with this scene is that it wasn’t entirely needed in this episode. I feel like they could have potentially put it into a future episode and it would have worked just fine, maybe better depending on how this volume goes. If anything it sort of disrupted the flow of what happened in the rest of this episode. Plus the scene was just a bit to short to justify putting it here, except that maybe they wanted to length the episode out a bit more so they could end the episode on the note it did. (I mean not hard to see why they would want to end it there).

We move into Raven and Yang meeting up after all these years. One more side note, I really appreciate the new animation and some of the smaller details, like the bandits she fought being bruised, Raven having crows feet under her eyes it’s a nice touch. Anyways, Raven....sigh, I can’t have been the only one to pause the episode to let my rage simmer down after she said “After all this time you finally decided to visit,” right? Like damn woman, I know in my post about you I said you were chaotic neutral, but come on now.

Because Yang has “proven herself” Raven agrees to answer any questions Yang has for her, only for Yang to explain why she came in the first place. So a few like myself we’re probably shocked to find Yang going after Raven back in episode 1 and not to Haven to find Ruby. But it turns out Yang only went to Raven in order to find Ruby because of Raven’s semblance. Thinking about it now, that makes a lot of sense. At the end volume 4 Ruby sent a letter to Yang telling her where she is, after Yang left home and it’s sort of implied that the letters haven’t been making it to her anyways. So the only options for Yang was to go to Mistral, hope that Ruby made it there, and just try and find her in a massive city, or she can go to Raven who’s semblance is now explained as making portal to those she has connected with. So far Tai, Yang, and Qrow are confirmed people she can fast travel to. (Ok I lied one more side note, makes me wonder if she had a connection to Summer to make portals to as well, enjoy your angst possibilities rosebird shippers.) So because Yang knows Qrow went after Ruby, Yang goes to Raven in order to cut down the time needed to find her. Clever on Yang’s part.

Raven, who has already been quoted as saying “ Family, only coming around when they need something,” (hi pot, kettle called he said you’re black) essentially tells Yang she is not helping her and that Ruby is a lost cause already because of Qrow and Ozpin, who she no longer trusts for reasons we don’t yet know. The entire conversation essentially boils down to an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. And there was something cathartic about this entire scene, especially the part where Yang basically says she wasn’t there for Raven. Karma anyone?

But Yang came this far, and isn’t gonna back down now, even if that means fighting an entire bandit camp for it. Weiss is found by Yang, and figures that sneaking out is no longer an option, and joins Yang for a potential fight. But this is interrupted by Vernal and Raven who decides that this isn’t worth bringing in grimm for. Raven tells Yang she is going to explain some things before anything else happens, (I’m crossing fingers for STRQ flashback).

Weiss proceeds to jump to Yang for a massive hug. I think this was probably the highlight of the episode for a lot of people. After everything involving volume 3, from being taken by her father, dealing with her shit family, crashing in an airship, being taken again, it should come as no surprise that she latches on to Yang (who last she saw was missing her arm). And honestly shows how far Weiss has come as a person. She was the one to initiate the hug, someone who has a family that doesn’t show affection in that kind of way, someone who was cold towards everyone at the beginning of the show. Look at her now, near tears, and quite literally hanging off of someone she missed dearly, so much so that she even lets her summon go, the thing that was defending her. (Be still my filthy shippy heart). And honestly, Yang probably needed the hug after everything too. This makes me excited for more reunions like that to come.

All in all, I had very little complaints with this episode, maybe a little too short for my liking but that’s a bit out their control. Though it will remain to be seen how it stacks up with the rest of the volume.

-Tangerine

#RWBY #RWBY spoilers #RWBY volume 5 #RWBY volume 5 spoilers #crtq #Mod Tangerine

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daresplaining · 7 years

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The Defenders Trailer #1 Analysis

Here’s our analysis of the first Defenders trailer... just in time for the second one! (Right, Marvel?)

To start, one detail we really like is that they’ve managed to maintain the distinct color palettes of the different shows. Jessica’s shots in the trailer are purple-tinged, Luke’s are yellow, Matt’s are red, and Danny’s are green. The scenes in which all four characters appear together are either very colorful (e.g. the restaurant where they have their team dinner, later in the trailer) or colorless (the stark white hallway scene). The dedication to these color motifs is very cool, and from what we can tell so far, it seems to work without being jarring or obtrusive.

Since this show is only going to be eight episodes long, and has four main characters, we’re very curious to see how much screentime the massive number of secondary protagonists are going to get. It’s a relief to see that Misty will be tied to Jessica’s investigative activities, since that means we’ll likely see a reasonable amount of her.

Massive kudos to everyone involved for recreating this scene from Alias #3 almost panel for panel! We love that Jessica and Matt meet this way, and are thrilled that they pulled directly from the source material to give us the live action equivalent.

This also answers the question of whether or not Matt is still doing legal work.

Here we have our first glimpses of post-prison Luke-- including his renewed romantic relationship with Claire. Having escaped from under the specter of being an escaped convict, he now has the freedom to live and work and exist in the world the way he chooses, and we can’t wait to see his efforts to rebuild his life, and the choices he makes from here. Clearly, he has permanently owned his identity as a superhero and public figure, which means he has likely completed the process of accepting his powers as well. Having been forced into the superhero situation in Luke Cage, he is now actively making the choice to continue helping people. The big question now is: what form will this help take? We feel like they could have pulled off making him a hero for hire in his solo show, but we understand why they didn’t. There are all sorts of ethical questions it would have brought up (many people accused him of being heartless and only in it for the money in his early comics appearances), which would have gotten in the way of the story. However, now-- being jobless-- there’s a chance he could consider it. But since he’s going to be pretty busy in this show, that might not come up in any concrete form until Luke Cage Season 2.

It will also be interesting to see what his attitude is toward the team-up. He might actually enjoy it, barring any potential awkwardness with Jessica. And hey, the Hand doesn’t have Judas bullets.

...Probably.

Given that this only takes place a month after Iron Fist, we’re guessing that Danny and Colleen will have only just returned from the Himalayas by the time the show starts, or will return in the first episode-or-so. Finn Jones’s comments about Danny having vital information about what the Hand are up to suggests that, beyond the revelations about the group in Iron Fist, he and Colleen may discover something new while investigating K’un-Lun’s disappearance between shows. We’re wondering if this new information could have something to do with the “lost city” mentioned in this NY Bulletin article:

(Here’s a theory we’ve been playing with: Alexandra and the Hand are connected in some way to the eighth Capital City of Heaven from Immortal Iron Fist.)

Colleen is another secondary protagonist who-- thanks to her close ties to the Hand and shared storyline with Danny-- will likely be integral to the main plot. Jessica Henwick provided a little hint of Colleen’s character arc in an interview with Entertainment Weekly:

“We pick up with Colleen not in New York — which is crazy, as all the shows have been predominantly in New York. We find her a month after we left her. [...] She hasn’t been able to deal with the emotional trauma she dealt with in Iron Fist, so it builds to a head and she explodes in Defenders.”

This is more strong evidence that both Danny and Colleen will still be out of the country when the show starts. We found Colleen’s shortage of character development to be one of Iron Fist’s few weak areas, so we are excited for the rest of the fallout from her falling-out with the Hand, and to see how she handles the extremely personal nature of this show’s plotline. We’re expecting some reappearances by Bakuto, and probably from some of Colleen’s former students. It’s gonna hurt...

Finally, we love Danny’s modern era comics-style haircut! (Colleen, this is your cue. Red hair dye. Stat.) We don’t need an in-universe reason for a small change like this, but we wonder if there will be one.

This is one of the most intriguing shots in the trailer. The weapons lying all over the place make it seem like this is a Hand base, but we’re interested in the containers on the far left. Drugs? Something connected to the blood harvesting project (which may or may not be Black Sky or resurrection-related)? IGH? If we keep saying the Hand is connected to IGH, it’ll end up being true, right?

youtube

We have waited so long, and we’re finally getting a live action Power Man and Iron Fist adaptation! (Please... if you haven’t read Power Man and Iron Fist Volume 1, do yourself a huge favor and get that into your life.) They’ve been teasing the heck out of this most beautiful of friendships for a while both in the actual shows and during promo events, so it’s a thrill to finally have reached this point. It will be interesting to see how their dynamic evolves, since there are some key distinctions between 616 Luke and Danny and MCU Luke and Danny. To start, MCU Luke’s personality is markedly different from that of his comics counterpart. In the comics, he’s a loud, aggressive guy, known for violent tendencies and a short temper. When he first meets Danny, he is in a particularly nasty emotional uproar because he is being blackmailed, and his loved ones’ lives are in danger. However, in the MCU they’ve mellowed him down to a considerable degree-- likely to avoid invoking the “big angry black man” stereotype that’s present in the source material.

In Danny, we see the opposite change. 616 Danny is a very angry, serious, emotionally confused guy in his early appearances, having just left his home behind in order to commit murder. However, through connecting with Colleen and Misty and orienting himself in his new life, he calms down, and has taken on the gentler, friendlier persona he’s best known for by the time he meets Luke. In the moment of their first encounter he’s not exactly in a great mood, because Luke has just punched out his best friend and his girlfriend, but he’s reasonably quick to forgive once he gets a sense of the situation. However, given the brilliant scrambling of his revenge quest in the show, MCU Danny has not had the chance to settle down in this way-- and has actually gone through the opposite character progression. Over the course of Iron Fist he has his optimism and kindness stripped away, leaving him angry and frustrated and on-edge by the final episode. We can’t imagine the revelation in the very last scene of the show did much to help this emotional turmoil, so it will likely transfer over into at least the first few episodes of The Defenders.

Will having a calm Luke and an angry Danny instead of an angry Luke and a calm Danny make a difference in their relationship? It’s hard to say. However, one thing we do know is that it’ll result in something that’s a priority for us: a big knock-down, drag-out fight! This is the nature of their first encounter in the comics as well, and we consider it to be a very important bonding experience for both of them. Danny punches Luke through several walls and drops a building on him, Luke gets right back up and keeps fighting, and by the end of the confrontation they are both extremely impressed with each other. In an ideal world, the live action version would be just as wild and building-destroying, but what matters most is that the bonding fight happens. We’re eager to see what will cause it in this universe, since that will directly affect how long it takes for them to become BFFs afterward.

This is a beautiful shot.

Tell ‘em, Danny!

We mentioned this in our Iron Fist commentary, but one gap in the MCU’s rendition of the mythos is an explanation of the “immortal” epithet. We love that Danny uses it, because of the geek-out factor, but it still needs to make sense in-universe. In the comics, it refers to the fact that K’un-Lun and its citizens are immortal, and also to the fact that the Iron Fist position will (in theory) always be around. This may be the reasoning in the show as well-- but it’s something we feel they should explain, because to non-comics readers it probably seems kind of random. Maybe it’ll come up in The Defenders.

Unsurprisingly, it seems that Claire is the person responsible for bringing Luke and Danny together-- finally reaching her full capacity as the link between shows. She may be the one who sends Matt to help Jessica as well.

Luke and Danny, sizing each other up. Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

...Now hug.

There have been quite a few shots like this in these shows, of characters studying themselves in mirrors. It’s generally meant to imply self-reflection and contemplation. This specific variety-- in which a character stares into a fogged-up bathroom mirror after taking a shower-- contains an added element of vulnerability and implied regret, and usually indicates that they’ve just been through a traumatic event. Sure enough, Danny has a nasty-looking slice across his chest.

Logic suggests that he probably got it from Elektra-- though if this show goes for maximum trauma, which it might, we could guess it might be from Colleen somehow...

But probably Elektra.

Exhibit A: Jessica Jones drinking alone in a closed bar, during what looks like the middle of the day.

We know three key things about Jessica’s current state of being: she is still operating as a P.I., except now (in theory) she has more emotional support in the form of Malcolm and Trish; she has become semi-well-known and popular thanks to her fight with Kilgrave, and isn’t sure how to handle the fame; and she’s still struggling with the trauma of everything that happened in Jessica Jones Season 1. Getting pulled into a team-up is not going to help with any of this-- apart from allowing her to reconnect with Luke, and introducing her to more people who might possibly serve as a support network, whether she wants one or not. She and Matt are the two people who we imagine are going to be most hesitant about the team-up, and Jessica will likely be the most open and loud about not wanting to be involved. In fact, since Malcolm and Trish will both be appearing in this show, we wonder if they might have a role in convincing her to help out.

We can't wait to see how she reacts to the magic ninjas. She’s going to have some great reactions to the magic ninjas, we can guarantee it.

Okay, listen.

Can uh... can we please just call him ‘Daredevil’? He’s Daredevil. That’s his code name. Never mind showing respect for the source material, etc., etc.-- he’s been Daredevil for two years in the MCU. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” was all well and good (well... not terrible, anyway) as a semi-believable build-up to him acquiring his actual name, but it’s a silly-sounding mouthful and there’s no reason for anyone to still be using it. All of the praise we’ve given to Luke Cage and Iron Fist for owning the superheroic/non-grounded elements of their comics is completely negated by this utter unwillingness to use Matt’s actual dang superhero name!

Sorry. Just had to get that out of our collective system. Moving on...

Hooray, a nice look at Matt’s costume (which looks pretty much the same as it did last season)-- including a great close-up of his billy clubs. We can’t wait to see him use the grapple line some more in this show, and we’re still holding out for someday getting the double-Ds.

The hero we need.

Our guess is that Luke’s time in prison won’t extend beyond the first episode. This could even be his introductory scene. We would love to get a long, drawn-out plotline in which his name is cleared, because that’s a vital step in his story, but we highly suspect that there won’t be time for it. In many ways, it would have been nice to get Luke Cage Season 2 before The Defenders, so that this plot point could be properly developed. As it stands, we’re expecting maybe one or two scenes to cover Luke being at Seagate and then getting released.

(Cue some long, gratuitous gushing about how good the Iron Fist looks. ...And the Chi of Shou-Lao looks nice too. *Rimshot*)

Sorry. Anyway. We are absolutely psyched to see Stick interact with Danny. This is partly because, as Stick fans, we enjoy seeing him interact with anyone and everyone. But mostly, it’s because we cannot wait to see what the Chaste’s relationship with K’un-Lun and the Iron Fist is like in this universe. As two major forces that have been battling the Hand for centuries, it would make sense for them to be aware of each other. But at the same time, the intel discrepancy between the Chaste and K’un-Lun indicates that they may not be in regular contact with each other-- or possibly have never even interacted before now. (For more details, see this post.) How does Stick feel about Iron Fists? Madame Gao, despite her Hand affiliations and understandable disregard for most people, showed a small degree of respect-- sometimes veering slightly toward kindness-- for Danny, likely due to his rank. Stick doesn’t really respect anyone-- at least, not to their face-- but we’re eager to see what kind of relationship he and Danny will have.

Guess who’s baaack!

We’re not sure what to make of this, though it would make the most sense to assume that it’s part of the Black Sky’s power set. It also reminds us a bit of Madame Gao’s telekinesis-like trademark move, only on a much larger scale.

We finally have our first serious glimpse of Alexandra. She’s still very much a mystery, but Stephanie Maslansky, the head costume designer for the Marvel Netflix shows, let this slip in an interview a few weeks ago: “...She’s the head of an ancient organization, which is grounded in the comics. [...] I hope that her wardrobe reflects that kind of ancientness.” It feels almost too obvious for her to be leading the Hand, but that’s the direction all of the evidence seems to be pointing. The “ancient organization”, if not the Hand itself, could possibly be Snakeroot, the group at the heart (palm?) of the Hand that deals with Beast-related activities. And it seems likely that, as with Madame Gao and Nobu and likely Bakuto, she’s probably functionally immortal.

We can already tell we’re going to love this scene! It’s always awesome when Matt fights in civvies. In fact, he’s out of costume for nearly the entire trailer-- and even when he is shown wearing the suit, he has his mask off. In the restaurant scene later on Alexandra sees his face, which-- coupled with her “the more connections you have, the easier it will be to break you” line-- is worrying. Why is he being so careless?

Is too much to ask for Matt to be driving this car? We need to get a scene of Matt driving at least once in these shows. It’s an Iconic Daredevil Thing(TM).

Also, this is the same restaurant as the one in the following clips, meaning this crash may be part of the same scene.

(Maybe the rest of the Chaste are driving the car. The Chastemobile.)

This is clearly a giant, pivotal moment in the show, as it involves team bonding (as we see later in the trailer), Stick, and even Alexandra. A big thank you to the people who pointed out that Stick seems to be missing his right hand-- or possibly his entire arm-- in this scene (which uh, gives us high hopes for Misty...). While Stick appears alongside the team in a separate scene in this trailer, our guess is that his decision to stagger into the restaurant and get them up off their butts takes place after a big development-- possible after he and the Chaste have been thoroughly stomped by Elektra and the Hand. This would explain the arm situation, and his renewed interest in getting help despite having judged Matt to be unready for the war.

Also... Matt has his glasses off in this scene! Either he’s grown extremely comfortable around everyone really quickly (which is possible, but... doubtful), or something’s happened to them. They were cracked in a few of the leaked set photos, so they may get completely destroyed at some point.

Presumably Elektra (this is the same sword she’s carrying a few shots later, during the hallway fight), giving off some major Darth Vader vibes.

This is very exciting. There was a sad shortage of leaping off rooftops in Daredevil Season 2, so we’re relieved that there’ll be some in The Defenders. There’s a balance that’s necessary for these types of scenes, and we don’t think they’ve quite found it yet. One of the important lessons the DD Netflix show learned from the movie is that you cannot replicate comics Matt’s extreme parkouring in live action in a way that looks good. (Or at least, it’s very difficult, and the movie didn’t manage it.) It needs to be dialed down to something slightly more realistic and, well, physically possible for someone without a building-hopping power set. However, we think they went too far. Matt’s parkouring in DD Season 1 was a lot of fun, but it was very... safe parkouring (if there is such a thing). He’s called Daredevil, after all (...Aha! Maybe this is why they’re so hesitant to call him Daredevil! Mystery solved?) and taking risks is his signature thing. Danny’s daredeviling scene in Iron Fist Episode 3 was great, and we’re hoping for something closer to that level of risk-taking-- at the very least!-- in Matt’s future.

It’s funny-- these were the original subtitles, and then they must have realized the mistake and changed them.

It’s pretty clear at this point that the rest of the team is going to learn Matt’s secret identity. We also know that the four of them run into each other for the first time at Midland Circle-- so this may be their first-ever team-up. That’s a record for secret identity leakage, even for Matt. They also find out that he’s blind, meaning they probably know about his powers-- which is a much more significant secret to Matt than even his secret identity. We can’t wait to see how that reveal happens.

The banter between Matt and Jessica in this show is going to be amazing. They’re both snarky people with loud opinions and iron wills, and all evidence suggests that they are going to bounce off each other in really entertaining ways.

We’d guessed in the initial teaser that he was wearing Jessica’s scarf, and we love it. She also wears that thing all the time, and we know she doesn’t do much laundry, so... good luck, Matt. This is why you need a costume that fits under civvies.

And of course, we’re getting the Ultimate Hallway Fight-- clearly part of the same scene as the elevator ride from the teaser. While we have semi-mixed feelings about this having become a recurring thing (the original hallway fight in Daredevil Season 1 served a very specific purpose, which has been lost in most of the subsequent versions), we mostly think they’re super awesome, so we’re excited about this. We mentioned the colors in this scene earlier-- how the whiteness of the hallway doesn’t integrate any of the character-specific color schemes. This creates an alienating effect, in which all of our heroes seem out of place and isolated. It’s also a callback to the coding in Daredevil Season 1, in which bright white spaces embodied themes of inhumanity, greed, and corruption. Clearly, Midland Circle is corporate-style bad news... but of course, we already knew that.

A few details we particularly love:

-The fact that Luke, Danny, and Jessica are tearing through people in the front, and Matt’s in the background just beating on that one guy. Keep on keeping on, Matt.

-The fact that Elektra is just strolling along behind the action, watching them tire themselves out. It’s terrifying and hilarious at the same time.

-Danny’s yellow shoes! We doubt he’ll ever wear the little yellow slippers in this universe, so we appreciate this nod to them.

Finally... this is a very strange hallway. What’s with the glass panels?

Hooray! Welcome back, El. Obviously, we have a lot of questions about Elektra in her new status as a recently resurrected person and (presumably) fully-activated Black Sky. Iron Fist gave us some great information about the former, at least. In the comics, those brought back from the dead by the Hand fall completely under their control. This would have been an easy explanation for how Elektra might become an antagonist in this show-- but as Harold Meachum’s efforts to fight the Hand (even after coming back twice) demonstrate, it doesn’t seem to be true in this universe. Instead, the resurrection results in a loss of humanity, which depletes the victim’s capacity for love and empathy and turns them violent.

This, layered on top of Elektra’s skills and predisposition for killing, would make her massively dangerous, but wouldn’t necessarily result in a willingness to help the Hand. She rejected them in Daredevil Season 2, after all, and getting skewered by Nobu probably didn’t make her any more enamored of them. The one factor we don’t know anything about is what effect becoming a fully realized Black Sky will have on her. Maybe it involves some form of mental numbing or brainwashing, and demonic possession is still a very real possibility. She’s clearly doing the Hand’s bidding to a certain degree here, and the details of how that happened are still ripe for speculation.

Look! A handy metaphor for Matt’s mental state once he discovers what’s happened to Elektra.

It seems pretty clear from this shot that Black Sky Elektra has super strength. It’s also notable that she decides to just hit Matt, rather than gutting him with her sword. This, coupled with how long she waits before even entering the fight, suggests two possibilities to us: that she’s been told to keep them alive, or that she’s fighting whatever control she’s under.

Also, we’re digging her new costume. The red is visually striking (and is both a reference her new Hand alliance and her 616 outfit), and the loincloth-style flappy bits actually look kind of cool, since she’s wearing *gasp* pants underneath them! Well done again, costuming team. Our only nitpick is that having her hair loose and in her face makes no sense.

Danny being extremely enthusiastic about the team-up, and Jessica being extremely unenthusiastic about the team-up, is spot-on and hilarious. Jessica is not at all a team player, while Danny is desperately searching for a purpose and for somewhere to belong. These two are going to have a fascinating dynamic, and we can’t wait to see how it plays out. Jessica and Danny have a bit of a bumpy start to their friendship in the comics, and while they do grow very close (they essentially become family, and Jessica and Luke name their daughter after Danny), they have also been known to have a difficult time reading each other because they have such different personalities. Since both of them are at much more unsettled points in their character arcs in the MCU than when they meet in the comics, we’re expecting a lot of friction between them-- which is going to hurt to watch, but should also lead to some interesting interactions.

“...Flying alcoholic?”

There is a lot to be excited about here. Three more months, and counting!

#Defenders spoilers #Netflix Defenders #Daredevil #Matt Murdock #Jessica Jones #Luke Cage #Iron Fist #Danny Rand #Elektra Natchios #Stick #Alexandra #Commentary #Set photo

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louisfeatharry · 7 years

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* newly added fics to my fic rec page as of 06/08/17 (17 fics in total) all fics are larry unless specified otherwise • more recent recs

above your head by deadspy (57k) [au, enemies to lovers, action & adventure]

What happens when an unstoppable object meets an immovable force?

[Space AU. Louis is an astronaut. Harry works for Mission Control. They don't get along.]

and darling i will be loving you 'til we're 70 by tomorrows (11k) [ou, posh/becks, fluff]

“Well, you deal with the football team, and we’ll handle everything else,” Teddy answers. He sits up confidently and crosses his arms – Harry always tells them that believing in yourself is 90% of the job – with his head held high. Louis sees a flicker of determination in his eyes, mixed with a bit of mischief and youthful exuberance. It reminds him of himself, when he was younger and even now, 32 years old and married with four children. He’s really fucking grateful for the life that he lives and the kids that he has. (And his husband is pretty alright, or whatever.)

A canon spin on Posh/Becks where Louis coaches their daughter's football team for the very first time and Harry comes back from a summer working for Saint Laurent.

Beyond The Point Of Weird by mewmewgodess (108k) [au, famous/nonfamous, fake/pretend relationship, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff]

Louis meets Harry one night and well... Of course things lead from one thing to another. How could Louis not be interested in having a go at the ex-Rockstar who'd starred in his first wet dream?

When Harry asks him to pretend to be his boyfriend to help him clear up his image, Louis agrees because why the fuck not. Yet it kind of feels like the only 'fake' part of their relationship is the title they chose for it... And then it gets confusing.

Louis' pretty sure he walked right into a trap - one he's not quite sure he wants to escape.

Do Not Go Gentle by afirethatcannotdie (70k) [au, hospital, enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, Grey’s Anatomy AU]

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

heartbreak hero by acastle (narry, 30k) [au, famous/nonfamous, enemies to lovers, slow burn]

“So you want me to hear your side of things?"

"Yes, that would be a start."

"Fine,” Niall steps forward, so he and Harry are practically nose to nose. “Come back tomorrow at 8, so you can air your side of the situation on my segment.”

In which Niall is a love guru of sorts on the radio, who thinks love is the bane of the world, and Harry is a fuckboy who’s lovely, surely, but is not the best boyfriend in the world, not by a long shot. His girl breaks up with him while on air with Niall, and Harry isn’t having that, so he forces Niall to help him win her back.

(Alternatively, Niall’s Guide On How to Win Back the Girl, patent pending. It should work, in theory.)

here for you by blitztrigger (24k) [au, fake/pretend relationship, friends to lovers, fluff]

“I can be your boyfriend for when you go home at Easter,” Harry says in one quick breath, “Fake boyfriend, I mean. If you- um, if you want?” Or, an AU where Louis needs a bit of a hand, and Harry's more than willing to help out.

hiding from you in the skin by lightseep (25k) [ou, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, angst]

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wants to snatch them back. It’s everything he wanted to say, everything he felt ever since he heard her name, ever since he saw Harry’s face when he’d looked at her; and it didn’t have to be her, god knows it could’ve been anyone else, anyone on the planet, and Louis still would’ve wanted to destroy them.

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups (31k) [au, A/B/O dynamics, fake/pretend relationship, enemies to lovers, Christmas AU]

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?”

“Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?” (Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

Pour Your Heart Out by hrrytomlinson (92K) [au, university, soulmates, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, slow burn, angst]

Louis is his soulmate. Or at least Harry thinks he is. Louis feels the same as Louis. But there are a lot of people named Louis in the world and this Louis might not be the Louis. It’s besides the point though, because Harry knows he can’t allow himself to get close to any boys. He just can’t and he’s told himself this multiple times. He has to simply stay away from Louis Tomlinson. But he can’t. Harry Styles can never stay away from Louis Tomlinson. It’s physically impossible for him to.

rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied (29k) [au, summer, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, prose, angst]

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

say you want me by orphan_account (37k) [au, famous/nonfamous, enemies to lovers, coming out]

Louist95: @HarryStyles, I’m personally offended that you haven’t invited me to your concert in Leeds next week. Proper fan I am and all.

HarryStyles: @Louist95 Proper fan? I’m personally offended on behalf of all our fans everywhere that you’ve lumped yourself with them.

~ A Famous/Not-Famous AU featuring Liam, Zayn, and Harry as the members of Sonic Boom, an English band that unexpectedly sky rocketed to international fame, Niall as their biggest fan, and Louis as the exact opposite. Harry’s a closeted pop star and Louis is the uni student he keeps fighting with on Twitter. It’s all silly banter until it turns into something else.

so grab your passport and my hand by infinitelymint (32k) [au, football, friends to lovers, posh & becks, fluff]

The one in which Louis plays football and Harry sings a lot, and somehow that means they're meant to be. They'll figure it out soon enough.

Swim In The Smoke by whoknows (101k) [au, pirates, royalty, A/B/O dynamics, action & adventure, smut]

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

two ghosts by suicxne (6k) [ou, friends with benefits, angst]

we're not who used to be. we're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me. trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.

a drabble documenting the events that inspired two ghosts.

Up To No Good by whoknows (26k) [au, famous/nonfamous, fluff]

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

You’ve got to see yourself from far and wide by Emm77 (286k) [au, football, enemies to lovers, neighbors/roommates, slow burn, secret relationship, coming out, fluff, angst]

Harry and Louis have hated each other since the moment they met. After years of hating each other, they’re signed onto rival football clubs but end up in close proximity once again thanks to a mutual friend. Even then, they’re still entrenched in their mutual dislike that bleeds into their social media accounts. However, they’re forced to call a truce to their years-long feud after they are both bought and transferred to Manchester United.

you’ve set on me by lissome (31k) [au, famous/nonfamous, post-breakup, enemies to lovers, angst]

Harry’s been completely blindsided, is the thing. Like a car without headlights crashing into him. It’s not that he thought he’d never see Louis again in his life. It’s just this. He wasn’t ready for this.

au. louis' in an obscure band. harry's an international popstar. their paths aren't meant to cross, not like this, but when louis' band signs on as harry's opening act, both harry and louis are forced to confront the open wounds of their shared past.

#fic rec list #recentrecs #this took longer than i'd like to admit #fuck my need for perfectly sized boxes on my fic rec page

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nezzfiction · 6 years

Text

ENMY Chapter 71 - Black and White

Chapter Synopsis: With the battle for Atlas concluded, the Kingdom is ushered into a different era of rule. Meanwhile, the greater game resumes in the fight against Salem.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

Black and White

I can’t change who I love.

I can’t ask you to return my feelings.

But if you did feel the same way,

…

Would it hurt you so much to show it?

“…”

At the top of a Tower, in the night that cast shadows never-ending, Weiss stared at the back of a fluttering caped figure. Their visage stood stoic against the breeze and the ever-dark horizon. She couldn’t have known, she couldn’t have even imagined back then. Only now, did it seem so obvious.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Weiss’s voice barely a whisper.

“…It’s meeee, who?”

“You’re her. The voice that helped me after Hades gave me the poisoned apple. The one who protected me, while I slept. And then, you helped me again when Ruby came to wake me up. That was you.”

The mysterious figure showed no signs of turning around. Her white hood hid her expression and features.

“Oh. Yeah, that was me,” the voice answered.

Weiss paused for a moment.

“…You’re Ruby’s mother.”

“Ahaha~ What gave it away?”

“Why can’t anyone find you? Why hide yourself?”

“That’s a little bit of an ask. Besides, even if I told you, you wouldn’t remember anyway~”

The sudden realization took Weiss by surprise.

“…! That’s right! After I woke up, why couldn’t I remember you?!”

“That is kind of how dreams work…”

“But! Ruby misses you! She wants to meet you! And… Yang. She feels the same way, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Yes, well,” Summer’s shoulders shifted uncomfortably. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Weiss could only continue to stare at Summer’s blurring figure. Something told her if she came too close, the woman would disappear into nothing but petals in the wind.

What a beautiful voice, Weiss thought.

It rung like the moon in a starless sky. It filled the void, and then dissipated as quickly as it came. A fleeting nature that didn’t seem real…

“Is there no way of letting us know where you are?” Weiss asked.

“Ah. You don’t need to worry about that. People will remember where I went off to soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oops. Looks like we’re out of time! Tell my daughters I miss them too! Not that you’ll remember anyway!”

“WAIT! HEY!”

…

“WEEEIIIISSSSS!!!”

“What do you want, Ruby?! I was in the middle of a very important discussion with your—!” Weiss jolted awake violently in a hospital bed. “…Where are we?”

“Told you I could wake her up,” Ruby puffed her chest out. “Now, free my prisoners!”

“Fine!” Mercury conceded and pushed the units he captured from his side of the board game to Ruby’s.

“You too, Coco! I did it without a kiss this time!”

“It was worth a shot,” the girl with sunglasses muttered, as she returned her captured pieces as well. “Welcome back to the world of the living, princess.”

“………Someone care to explain to me what exactly is going on?!”

As Weiss looked about the hospital room, there were rows of beds set up on opposite sides. While a couple of patients seemed to crowd around Ruby’s to play a board game, the others were filled with more than familiar faces.

“Oh, hey. Morning, Weiss,” Jaune waved with a bandaged arm.

“Um, good morning~” Pyrrha joined, while in the middle of feeding Jaune a sliced apple.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. Pyrrha’s alive,” Ruby added as an afterthought.

“What?!”

“Hello, again~”

“I said, PYRRHA’S ALIVE!” Ruby shouted at the top of her lungs. “Oh, wait. You were just surprised, not that you didn’t hear me. Yeah. Cinder and Yang brought her back to life.”

“WHAT?!”

“I said…”

“She heard you!” Emerald shouted from the other bed, immediately regretting her decision. “No more yelling. It’s making my head ring.”

“Should I ask the nurse for more morphine?” Mercury offered.

“She won’t let me have anymore.”

“I can say it’s for me and just hook you up.”

“God, yes, do it. What’s it gonna cost me?”

“Your fruit jello.”

“Done. Get her ass in here.”

“So, glad all of you are so energetic after yesterday’s dramatic affairs,” a sultry voice permeated the room, and drew everyone’s focus.

“Cinder!” Emerald brightened as the young woman stopped at the foot of her bed.

“No more morphine.”

“Boo!”

Cinder continued to walk between the patients before stopping at Weiss. A single, amber eye focused on her fellow Maiden. The one previously lost in battle was replaced with a rather dignified-looking eyepatch.

“You and I have some very important matters to discuss, Weiss Schnee,” she clasped her hands behind her in an authoritative manner.

“…I suppose so,” Weiss worded warily. “You haven’t killed us yet. There must be a reason. Do you want to use me as some sort of political pawn?”

“Actually—”

“I refuse.”

Tensions rose immediately as silence filled the thick air.

Cinder gave Weiss the pregnant pause to allow the patient some time to reflect on her next words carefully. Besides, suddenly waking in a hospital bed, surrounded by allies and enemies alike, along with a resurrected Pyrrha—Cinder understood it would be enough to make anyone a little…unbalanced.

“I will choose to overlook that for now,” the Fall Maiden waved off. “First, let me say I would never dream of making a pawn of you. You’re far too powerful and individualistic for me to control, and you would prove a better asset if you acted independently. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. At this point in time, I need you to reactivate the Aegis System.”

“…What?”

“The giant force field covering the city, providing safe sanctuary to the citizens of Atlas. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“Rrgh!”

Cinder’s snide aside, Weiss asserted the powers of the Winter Maiden, and found to her surprise she still had access to the Tower’s defense capabilities.

“After gaining full control of the Tower, I granted you the same administrative authority you once held, below my own, of course,” the woman answered Weiss’s question for her. Cinder then, tapped on her electronic ear piece and spoke into it. “How is their response, General?”

The radio cracked.

“Alliance forces are retreating. Your bluff seems to have worked.”

“And now, to make the lie—truth. That will be all, Trafalgar. I will see you and Ironwood in a few hours.”

Cinder tapped the comms off and peered deeply into Weiss’s soul, while pulling up a nearby chair. If the devil themselves sat down at the table to make a deal, Weiss surely thought it would start like this.

“Despite any personal feelings you may harbor towards me, I only hold you in the highest respects. You were truly a worthy opponent. And it is my hope, you will make for an even keener ally.”

“…”

“Upon being named Queen of Atlas,” Cinder emphasized with a gratuitous smile, “I publicly expressed my opinion of your importance to this nation. And in the backstage, rumors of a dual matriarchy have been circulated. I only await your response.”

Weiss could not keep the surprise on her face from showing. Cinder had just suggested they co-ruled Atlas together. Paranoia took reins over her thoughts. She had to figure there was some sort of scheme to it.

Just as Weiss was about to argue or search for the hidden agenda, the leader of the Kingdom leaned forward.

“Surely, you’ve realized, Weiss Schnee, this is no time to reignite a civil power struggle between us. Although, I could clearly have you erased should you refuse, finding a suitable replacement, much less controlling the Winter Maiden’s Inheritance, would prove more trouble than its worth,” Cinder’s smile was so sharp, it could cut glass. “No. Together, you and I can lead Atlas into a more promising future. You’re smart, formidable, and resolved. I have no doubt you would have made an excellent regent for this Kingdom, had I not intervened. But united,” she knotted her hands together. “We could be the unstoppable force and the immovable object.”

Cinder gestured to herself. “Queen”. Then, to Weiss. “And, Queen.”

The Fall Maiden saw the gears turning in the other’s head.

“Take your time to digest this information. Think on it, consult your confidants. I will await your answer with bated expectation.”

“…” Weiss closed her eyes solemnly. “As if I have an actual choice in the matter.”

“Hm. I understand the doubts you hold, but in time, you will see I am true to my word. Because deep down, in your heart of practical hearts you know the same truth I do.” Her tone went even. “You and I are essential to the Kingdom of Atlas—completely ingrained and irreplaceable.”

“…”

“Besides,” she added with a wave. “Having you as a puppet would be such a waste. No, I need to put you to work as soon as possible. The Great War resumes, my fellow Queen. I expect you to report for duty in two days and no later.”

“I…” Weiss gripped her bedsheets tightly. “…will think on it.”

Without waiting for further response, Cinder tossed Weiss a snow-white signet ring she had already prepared. It matched Cinder’s own char black one on her index finger. The ring bore the Schnee family crest embedded with the Fall family’s insignia. Its significance was not lost on Weiss.

The Queen then, strode out of the hospital ward, already making another call on her ear piece. Once she was gone, the Winter Maiden gazed down at the piece of jewelry. Her mind trying to absorb the symbol and the weight carried within it.

“Unbelievable…” she muttered dishearteningly. “Must she always act like she knows everything?”

““Pretty much.”” Emerald and Mercury said together.

“At least we’re not dead,” Coco commented.

“Unbelievable,” Weiss continued to mutter, burying her head in her knees. “This is disgraceful.”

“Yeah. You should be grateful,” Mercury said.

“No, Merc. She said disgraceful. With a ‘dissss’,” Ruby corrected.

“Oh. You can make out the difference in that?”

“Weiss does this all the time when she gets embarrassed or really emotional.”

“Ruby! Why are you acting so friendly with them?! Team ENMY corrupted this Kingdom, started a battle between the Alliance and Atlas, and placed a complete sociopath in control of this nation!”

“Hey!” Emerald took offense. “This Kingdom was already corrupted before we got here, so we didn’t have anything to do with that! Boom!”

“Boom!” Mercury echoed.

“This Kingdom is doomed,” Weiss palmed her face. After a few more agonizing sighs and groans, she leaned back into the recline of her bed. “I suppose I have Yang Xiao Long to thank for all of this…”

“Yeah! You do!”

“No, Merc,” Ruby corrected him again. “She was being sarcastic.”

“Really? I swear, I cannot get a beat on this girl.”

“Nah,” Emerald joined. “It’s just that everything she says sounds so whiny and complainy, you just can’t tell.”

“Oh, makes sense. Knew it couldn’t have been me.”

“And by the way, snow angel. You should be thanking Yang—for like—everything.”

Weiss glared, but stopped at Ruby tugging at her sleeve.

“You were asleep when they told us. Yang… she made sure the least amount of damage as possible was done.”

“What?”

“You idiots were going to fight a war with the Alliance anyway,” Emerald elaborated. “Because we triggered the battle prematurely, everyone’s plans were messed up, so both sides entered the battle looking for an excuse to leave it from the get-go. It’s why all the soldiers wanted to retreat so quickly. Duh!”

“…”

“She also made a deal with Cinder,” Ruby resumed. “Apparently, there were a bunch of conditions. One of them, was that Cinder would offer to rule Atlas with you.”

“Yeah!” Emerald glared. “Yang was the one, who convinced Cinder you were too useful to kill. That she stood a better chance of defeating Salem with the current Winter Maiden alive. Cause of that, killing any of your little friends is also off the table. You’re welcome!”

“…Unbelievable.”

“I’m starting to think that word doesn’t mean what she thinks it means,” Mercury commented.

The door to the patient room opened again to a nurse-cosplaying Neo arriving with a bowl of ice cream.

“Nurse! I need more morphine!” Emerald raised her hand. “These assholes are giving me a migraine!”

Neo only shoved more spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth with a blank look.

“Damn it, Neo! Get me Yang or something!”

“Heyo?”

Yang followed Neo right after, and an awkward pause hung in the air for a second or two.

“Yang, go steal me some morphine.”

“Is that what the doctor prescribed?” Yang asked with a smirk.

“FUCK what the doctor prescribed! I’m your team leader, and I order you to steal me some pain pills!”

“Okay, okay. Take it easy, Em,” the blonde girl snickered. “I knew you’d want some anyway, so…” With a flick of her wrist, she materialized a bottle of pills and tossed it to Emerald. “Now, only take two every—she just downed the whole bottle. Kay, maybe some private sleepy time would be best. Neo?”

The petite girl nodded and began to wheel Emerald to a private room. Once they were gone, Mercury threw one of the game pieces at Yang to get her attention.

“Hey, so is the pharmacy closed, or do you have any more hospital presents?”

“Those were placebos, Merc. You didn’t really think I was gonna give her a full bottle of painkillers, did you?”

“I can dream.”

“The dream’s dead, buddy. Just gonna have to make due with classic R&R—or until Jaune gets his mojo back.”

“Hey, miracle touch! How close are you till your Semblance is back online?” Mercury yelled over to the other bed.

“Not soon,” Jaune replied flatly.

Mercury motioned for Yang to lean close for a whisper. “You think he’s still mad I ate his cereal that one time?”

“Ohhhhh yeah. Totes.”

After a small laugh, Yang turned to face Weiss.

“Weiss.”

“Yang.”

The Winter Maiden took one more glance about the room.

“…Where’s Blake? I also don’t see Qrow, Raven, or Adam here.”

“Qrow’s being held nearby.” Yang shrugged. “He’s fine, Ruby,” she added after seeing worry in her little sister.

“As for Blake…”

X X X X X

(Yesterday, shortly after Pyrrha’s revival)

“As much as I’d hate to break this tearful reunion,” Cinder rolled her eye at the sight of Jaune weeping openly into Pyrrha’s arms. “I believe we should start cleaning up this mess.”

Yang took a cursory glance at the heavily injured bodies of her former teammates.

“Yeah. Also, I’m worried about Em and Merc.”

“As am I.”

“…”

“…? What?”

“Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to come out and say something like that.”

“Hmph. Enough of that,” Cinder dismissed. “Raven’s condition is also a point of concern.”

“Neo did her job. Their fight ended the cleanest.”

“Yes, but I doubt the replication of Ruby Rose’s Magic can imprison her for long. We would do well to confirm her capture as soon as—”

The two Maidens jumped back at the sudden cascade of black miasma flooding the chamber.

“Blake?!” Yang shouted into the fog. “This fight’s over! It won’t be hard to put you down again, so let’s give it a rest! Look, Pyrrha’s alive! We should just…”

“NoO!!!” Blake’s distorted voice grew with the encroaching haze. “It’S A TrIcK!!! pYRHhA’S DEaD!!”

“Blake! Stop this, now! Your Semblance is getting too close to them!!!”

“IT’s a LIE!!!!”

A giant, shadow cat leapt at Pyrrha, and was about to bite down on her, when Jaune raise his shield. Blake’s teeth engulfed his arm, sinking the corruptive substance into his skin. The young man buckled in pain, but then glowed with an argent hue that flickered like a dying light bulb.

“Damn it!”

Yang catapulted forward, only for her punch to whiff through the smoke. The cat Faunus reappeared at a distance, her Semblance still billowing around her. Her expression twisted in anguish as she braced the sides of her head.

“It CaN’T be…!! PyrHHa iS DeAD!”

“Blake! Get a grip—”

Cinder laid a hand on Yang’s shoulder.

“It’s meaningless trying to get through to her,” the Fall Maiden stopped her comrade, and stepped forward. “You’re there, aren’t you? I knew the moment I saw your pet project materialize your Grimoire. So, Blake Belladonna is to be your next vessel?”

Blake stopped rocking back and forth. She stepped out of the fog to reveal tattoos painted across her body. Dark cracks webbed her skin and the whites in her eyes were inked jet black.

“Is that surprise I detect in your voice, dearest Cinder?” Blake spoke in a tone that was not her own. “Surely, you must have known this would happen, or did the infallible Cinder Fall make such a simple oversight?”

“Salem…” Cinder scowled. “I’m only too happy that you didn’t choose Raven, as I had initially predicted.”

“You do have a bad habit of overlooking simple clues, after deciding on an obvious outcome.”

“SALEM!!!” Yang’s voice boomed with a roaring fire.

The sudden plume of fire made the chamber shake with a violent tremor.

“Ah, yes, the Maiden of Spring. Are you absolutely sure you wish to act on this impulse? Your friends seem to be in awful vulnerable proximity.” Blake looked to Ruby, Weiss, and Jaune still injured on the floor. “They ARE still in fact your friends, I presume? No matter how much you hide it or shun it—or earn their deepest ire, it does not bode well do deny it. This latest development just proves that. You cannot change who you love. Isn’t that correct, Cinder?”

The two Maidens went silent, thinking on their next move. As if to make sure they didn’t find such an alternative, Blake materialized the black tome they saw in their previous battle. From its flipping pages, an unfamiliar emblem projected from it.

“Allow me to retreat with Adam and Raven, or there will be irreversible consequences.”

“No deal,” Yang answered.

“I must concur,” Cinder added.

“There is no shame in acquiescing as small a defeat as this, following such a grand victory,” Salem spoke amiably. “With my possession of Blake Belladonna, it would not take much to render this chamber inoperable. Not only that, but killing your friends would be such a simple feat. It would require the sacrifice of this vessel, but… I do what I must,” Salem revealed a sorrowful expression. “Meet my demands, Cinder. I will not ask again.”

“…You may take Adam only.”

“Tsk tsk tsk. Oh, dear. Contrary to what you think, Raven is my willing accomplice. Even should you keep her, you would not be able to hold her. You know this better than anyone.”

Salem’s words cut deeper than Cinder could have imagined. She bit so hard into her bottom lip that it bled freely. She wanted with everything to destroy the one standing in front of her, even it was just a possession.

“This changes nothing.”

A calm voice reverberated at her side.

“This changes nothing, Cinder,” Yang repeated. “We’ll find her again. And next time, we’ll be ready—it just won’t be today…”

“…” The Fall Maiden blinked slowly and sighed. “You are correct, Yang. We did not prepare for this thoroughly. One of her best cards has been revealed. There is a bigger game to be won.”

“Yeah…”

The two Maidens eased their fighting stances.

“Leave,” Cinder snarled. “Begone from my sight, Witch.”

Blake gave off a lighthearted chuckle.

“Do not be discouraged, young Cinder. I’ve just been playing this game longer than you have. Well, until we meet again. I bid you farewell, Maiden of Fall and Maiden of Spring.”

With a bow, Blake disappeared in a shock of smoke.

Upon reviving everyone from their sleep, Yang and Cinder would find Raven and Adam gone.

A bitter taste of chagrin left in the back of their thoughts.

X X X X X

“…That’s all I came here to say,” Yang stood from her chair, after explaining the events that transpired after the battle.

“Yang,” Weiss called out to her. Her brow knitted with conflicting thoughts. “I’m sorry I dishonored our duel.”

“I think we’re way past apologies by now.”

“But that is all I am sorry for.”

“…”

“You caused all of this. I understand why you did it. I don’t blame you, but I will hold you accountable. This situation, the things you’ve set into motion, and the damages you’ve caused—they’re also responsibilities of the victor. You may have done it for good reasons, but I can only wonder if a day doesn’t come where you won’t regret winning. I was prepared for all the consequences and its burdens. Are you?”

They stood in a tense silence for a moment, before Yang chuckled.

“Heh! You’re putting way too much care into playing the good loser, Weiss. All I did was act on a bunch of selfish whims. There’s nothing to regret for me.”

“…”

Just as Yang was making her way through the door, she stopped. Her expression etched in stone.

“Accept Cinder’s deal, Weiss. We don’t have time to waste fighting you. I’d rather put my fist through Salem’s face then yours. Blake needs my help, and so do both my moms. If you do anything to stop me again, I swear, I’ll end you the next time. That’s a promise.”

As Yang moved into the hallway, she took a stuttering breath to settle her nerves.

“Are you alright?” a concerned voice asked.

“Yeah. I’m good. How was Qrow?”

“He’s agreed to speak with you.”

“About time. Hey, before you go in there, you should probably take it a little easy on her.”

“Did you?”

“No, but we’re not friends anymore. All love lost between us.”

“…”

“See ya around.” Yang passed.

“…Yes. Around,” the other responded promptly before entering the patient room.

The woman strode to Weiss’s bed with a perfect, military gait.

“Weiss.”

In the wake of the visitor’s curt greeting, Weiss froze absolutely still. Her already pale complexion lost any color it had. The sight alone made her heart stop beating.

“I see your recovery is proceeding well,” the woman resumed. “Do you require anything? Water, medicine, I thought of bringing a get-well gift, but all I could think of was this.”

She produced Myrtenaster from her back and laid it across Weiss’s lap.

“Uh-buh-wuh!”

“…?” the woman tilted her head. “Have your injuries impaired your vocals?”

“WINTER?!” Weiss screamed.

There, standing before the Weiss, was her sister, Winter Schnee.

“Yes. I’ve recovered from being bedridden,” Winter’s harsh expression softened into a smile. “I understand I’ve been asleep for quite some time. You must have been worried, even if you shouldn’t have.”

“BUT—! HOW?!”

“How do you think?”

Weiss blinked repeatedly with tears in her eyes. Her emotions had taken repeated heavy blows in the last hour alone. It was enough to offset anyone’s reactions.

“Yang,” she muttered. “She…?”

“Yes. She played a significant part in my recovery. On that note,” Winter moved to her sister’s bedside with an *ahem*.

A direct chop delivered with the firm edge of her hand knocked the younger sibling on the head.

“OW!”

“You boob! What’s this I hear about you severing relations with your comrade, attempting to kill her, all for the sake of avenging my injuries?”

“BUT! But—She tried to kill you!”

“It was war, Weiss. She and I stepped onto the battlefield knowing our lives could be forfeit at any given moment, or that we would have to take it. Do not bring your personal feelings into an outcome that is empty of any singular person’s fault. If it was not Yang, it could have easily been any other. Such is the nature of war.”

“But…!” Weiss refused to listen. “I can’t forgive her. I just… can’t. Even if she did wake you from your coma. She tried to kill you knowing exactly what it meant.”

“Hm, this is true—” Winter nodded. “But also, untrue.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am saying Yang Xiao Long was in control of her actions, but as I’m familiar with, the Reaper’s Semblance does tend to skew one’s perceptions and behaviors.”

“Winter, what are you talking about?” Weiss asked slowly.

“And as I observed, I believe that was the first instance Yang utilized its true nature. A rampant bloodthirst, followed by a knee-jerk response to releasing such aggression of newfound power. It is simply the way events unfolded, I suppose.”

“Wait, I don’t understand!”

“I’ve bore witness to something similar in the past. Tragedy tends to haunt the Branwen line. Not to say Yang Xiao Long should be absolved of any guilt. We must all bear the full weight of our actions…” Winter flashed a deep sorrow at a thought. “But there is a pain there, a suffering that we will never understand. They are born thinking they are cursed—”

Winter rubbed her arm uncertainly.

“And sometimes, due to those around them—”

“They may actually start to believe it.”

X X X X X

“We’re cursed, aren’t we?”

“What? You just getting that now?” Qrow replied.

In a surprisingly luxurious cell made to confine preferentially treated prisoners, Yang and Qrow spoke at length. Rather than a cell, it resembled a reserve suite at a five-star hotel. Accommodations included a lavish bed and furniture, a shelf full of books to read from, and even a television set. There was also a rather large window, though, extremely reinforced and unopenable.

But the only thing Qrow cared for was—

“Kid, tell me you at least brought something to drink with you.”

“I did,” Yang replied shortly.

“So?”

“So, you need to listen to something that I have to say—sober.”

“Goddamn it, Yang,” Qrow grasped at his disheveled hair. “Do you know what withdrawal does to a person? You think I’m in a real state of mind to listen to anything?!”

“Maybe not… Or maybe I just wanted you to be a bit tender for it.”

“Taking sadist lessons from your new friend, I see.”

“This is actually the watered-down version of what I had in mind. You can thank Cinder for that.”

“…”

Yang could feel Qrow’s Reaper Semblance reliving a thousand scenarios, where she could die. There was no way to block it out, no way to lose himself elsewhere. And she thought, this was probably the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him.

“You’ve been lying to Ruby her whole life.”

“…”

“Doesn’t matter that she knew the truth. You pretended to be her Uncle and her teacher and took every chance to run off when you thought you were getting too close. I don’t even remember how many times, when things were going so nice for you guys, you suddenly had some ‘Huntsman’ business to take care of. But Ruby never blamed you. She did everything to grow into a daughter you could be proud of, while you were busy putting up your damn walls.”

“What I did was to protect her!”

“Just like how mom lied to you and all of us?”

Qrow was seething with rage. His usual control over his emotions was absent with his forced sobriety.

“I don’t care if it’s a low blow,” Yang crossed her arms. “Can you actually say your lies were for the better after learning Summer’s been alive this whole time? You need to set things straight with Ruby. She deserves it… And, I guess you do too, a little.”

“Ruby doesn’t need another father in her life. She has Tai.”

“People can have two dads, Qrow! Stop trying to look for a way out of this.”

“I guess thanks to you, I don’t.”

“…I’ve said what I wanted to say. If you want to keep playing the stubborn old man, then that’s that.”

“…” Qrow turned a stern stare towards her niece. “So, you’ve stopped me from synchronizing with Oz. Again.”

“Yeah,” Yang frowned. “After seeing what happened with Blake, I can’t help but think I made the right call.”

“You don’t understand. We need Oz.”

“No, it’s you, who doesn’t understand. Neither of you.”

Something in Yang’s demeanor pierced Qrow’s physical form. She spoke to her Uncle, but also to the one taking residency in his body.

“I don’t know what you’ve seen, and I don’t pretend like I do. But you’ve lost all faith in people.”

“…”

The red gleam in Yang’s irises burned with anger.

“I’ve seen what this secret war between two immortals is doing. You’ll never beat Salem, and it’s no longer up to you. It’s the responsibility of the people who live in the here and now to decide what happens to their world.”

Yang grabbed Qrow by the collar.

“You guys have played your game for the last time. We are gonna be the ones to end this.” Yang shoved a small flask into Qrow’s chest. “Ruby’s going to come around eventually. You better milk that flask for all its worth, ‘cause you won’t be getting any more.”

She let go and breathed a long exhale to cool her anger.

“I am close friends with the Queen after all. Comes with a few perks. One of them being, the ability to force a stubborn old man to talk to his daughter, at least once.”

“What do you plan to do next?”

Yang narrowed her brow. The verdant green of another shone within her Uncle’s soul.

“…I think you already know.”

As Yang was about to leave, she caught a silver flask thrown at her. When she turned around, Qrow was massaging the bags under his eyelids, looking for a book to keep him occupied. She had second thoughts about keeping alcohol away from him, but then banished the thought.

Yang left the facility, while gritting her teeth. Her hands dug into her pockets, while she made her moody, brisk walk across the courtyard. She wanted to find Neo as soon as possible. Her partner always set her at ease, or at least made the tough times more bearable.

...

“…I don’t know if I’m in the mood for this right now. And, shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I need to know.”

Yang thought about refusing, before motioning to a nearby bench. The two then, sat down under the chill, Atlesian blue sky. They could see the slight rippling of the Aegis System’s shield above. The sun shined through, like some beacon demanding truth in its plainest.

Yang hated it with something vitriol today.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jaune asked after a time. “Why didn’t you tell us you were trying to revive Pyrrha?”

“…”

“The things I said.”

“You meant them. They were the truth, and nothing changes that. It’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Yang… Tell me why.”

“You’re a big boy, Jaune. Plus, I’m sure you spent a lot of time thinking about the reason already. Unless Pyrrha distracted you that much.”

Jaune stared at her, but Yang only continued to look towards the sky, trying to get lost in the passing clouds. He drew a deep breath.

“You wanted to take the decision out of our hands,” he finally said.

“…”

“You knew, if you told us the truth, we would’ve had to fight Weiss. We would’ve had to help Cinder take over this Kingdom. A lot of people would have to…”

His voice trailed off at the sight of rising smoke. They came from the crashed airships on the outskirts. It was only a day since the battle between Atlas and the Alliance took place. Wounds were still fresh from the war’s visit to this nation. The sight still burned vividly into the memory of its citizens.

“You wanted to spare us the guilt.”

Yang remained silent, which all but confirmed Jaune’s suspicions.

“Yang, I don’t know how I can—I don’t know what I can do.”

“Why would you do anything?”

“…?”

“You’re super off, by the way. I didn’t tell you guys, ‘cause you wouldn’t have been any help. And there’s no way you would’ve fought Weiss, even for Pyrrha’s sake. You probably wouldn’t have believed Cinder in the first place.”

“Yang…” Jaune could only respond, in the face of the obvious lie. “I wish there was some way—"

“You really want to owe me one, Jaune?” Yang asked with a sting in her tone. “Don’t ever ask me about this ever again. Just be happy Pyrrha’s alive. Now, if we’re done, I got things to do.” She stood from the bench and began walking off.

As Jaune was about to go after her, the sound of breaking glass stopped him in his steps. Neo appeared from behind and held the point of her parasol underneath his chin.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Weiss. I don’t regret anything,” Yang said without turning around.

Neo let Jaune go before following after her partner.

…I just feel everything.

X X X X X

“…Are you sure we should be allocating so much of our resources in the shorter term, Ma’am? I understand the intent, but with this plan, Atlas runs the risk of experiencing a depression some ten years down the line.”

“To assure Atlas exists at the end of this year, drastic measures must be taken,” Cinder answered.

The Queen looked down the length of the table and saw no more opposition. She scanned the papers in front of her and swore she saw the letters jumble into a mess.

“That will be all for today, ladies and gentlemen. Any other matters will have to be tabled until tomorrow’s discussions.”

One of the members of the Board was about to object, when Trafalgar intervened.

“Her Majesty has only recently ascended to her position as sovereign of this nation. Before that, she took part in the defense of our home against the Alliance. I think it would do well not to tax her so heavily, so soon.”

“I am well-acclimated to working under less than ideal conditions, General,” Cinder responded.

“We know that very well, Ma’am. What I said was not meant to undermine you. It was to emphasize that you are still human, and the fact that you are this Kingdom’s leader, means it lives and dies with you. That said, it is my professional opinion that you take care of yourself, and that we, as your cabinet, make sure you do so.”

“…”

A smart one, this Trafalgar. He will prove extremely useful.

“Meeting adjourned,” Cinder called the conference to an end.

When the members of the cabinet filtered out of the room, with Trafalgar the last to leave, Cinder turned down the lights. She stared at the walled windows pensively, not to the outside, but at her own transparent reflection. Her greatest battle took place only yesterday, but there was only so little time to rest. As Raven taught her, the next battle was always waiting.

“Should you really be out and about so early from the hospital?” Cinder heard Trafalgar’s voice outside.

“I’m in fine health, General. I can’t rest easily, not when our Kingdom stands at such a crucial juncture,” a familiar voice replied.

“Hmmm. Though I may not be in a position to say this myself, it would do well for you two to take the time you need to recover and avoid overwork. Much rests on both your shoulders.”

“And what exactly would that imply?”

“Nothing, Miss Schnee. Only my hopes that the rumors of a second queen would be true.”

“That will be all, General.”

With the end of their conversation, Weiss entered the conference room.

“He’s a clever one, that Trafalgar,” Cinder commented.

“My teacher is well-versed in adapting to new situations and acting accordingly.”

“Do you think we should give him more responsibility, then?”

“’We’?”

“Yes, of course. Let us continue this charade of you possibly planning to refuse my offer.”

Weiss didn’t rise to Cinder’s bait but joined her in facing the window. The patient, who recently snuck out of the hospital, still had bandages showing just barely outside her dress. Compared to their talk only a few hours ago, the Winter Maiden was much more composed and steady.

It seems the student demonstrates the same adaptability as her teacher, Cinder thought.

“I wish to know your reasons before going any further,” Weiss told her. “You clearly could force me into a subordinate role, but instead offered me a position of equal power. I understand you made a deal with Yang, but does it really compel you such extents?”

“Would it ease you to be given a less integral role?” Cinder asked teasingly. Taking Weiss’s silence as her answer, Cinder continued. “No, I thought not. To answer your question, only as an equal would you be able to draw out the fullest measure of my potential. The same can be said vice versa, of course.”

“Your potential?”

“Indeed. Let me make one thing clear. While Yang may have suggested keeping you in a position of power under my rule—it was my own decision to make you Queen.” Cinder materialized a poor obsidian dagger and began sharpening it.

“…And why in the world would you ever think that would be a good idea?”

“Because I came to realize something after meeting Yang.” Cinder heated the dagger to more refinement. “Opposition hones one’s self, not only from her enemies, but also her allies. My growth would be nowhere near as extensive without the consulting perspectives of my confidants, especially in their disagreements.”

Cinder handed Weiss the glass blade, still glowing hot.

“I have no need of subordinates who simply bend to my will. I require equals with abilities and principles different from my own, to provide balance and completeness in vision. Ying and Yang. Black and White.”

Weiss took the hot knife and chilled it to a complete form. She peered into her own reflection in the weapon for a while.

“…I have a few conditions before accepting my position,” Weiss said.

“I figured as much. Name them.”

“I understand you’ve taken control of my family’s company during my absence. I want it returned. I also want you to relinquish your stranglehold on this Kingdom’s economy.”

“Easily done. You may keep your company. I’ve never possessed much of a business acumen, nor has money ever interested me. Such a false sense of wealth and power.” Cinder examined her nails in thought. “You may oversee the economy going forward, but I expect you to support me as director of all affairs military. The S.D.C. will no longer own the Atlesian Fleet in the shadows.”

“…Fine.”

“We have other matters to sort, but they can wait for another time. I take it you’ve accepted my offer?”

“Yes. I accept the terms,” Weiss spoke evenly.

“Very well, then. I look forward to working with you, White Queen.” Cinder extended her hand.

There was only a brief delay before Weiss shook it. The Winter Maiden turned the glass dagger in her other hand and handed it to the other.

The Black Queen turned the weapon in a similar manner.

“Hm. Well-balanced.”

X X X X X

Seeing Yang and Neo wrapped in each other’s arms, sleeping soundly in the living room of the Mantle Mansion—Cinder decided to leave the two to their own.

As she wandered the vast estate, she entertained the idea of visiting Emerald and Mercury, but quickly dismissed it. They needed their rest and, although she reached a new level of transparency with them, exposing her loneliness was out of the question.

Deciding that sleep was the best option, she entered a private sector of the house. It was a place that held special meaning. A room Raven once stayed in…

…

“Now, this is a pleasant surprise,” Cinder grinned.

“You really shouldn’t wander around by yourself without any guards.”

“I remember you saying something similar in the past.”

She walked over and sat on the bed, close to Raven. Her old mentor gave a weary sigh.

“Your guard is down.”

“I wasn’t aware it needed to be ready. Or are we playing that kind of game?”

“You always had a bad habit of playing with fire.”

“And you always liked playing with pretty, little sharp things. A taste your daughter seems to have acquired.”

Raven scoffed at that.

“Will you be staying the night or...”

“Business, Cinder.”

“Before pleasure?”

Raven took Cinder’s chin and locked her in her eyes.

“Take off your dress.”

“No foreplay?”

Raven turned her around and forcefully untied the dress from behind. There, she saw a large scorch mark with the remnants of what was once a tattoo.

“You burned it…” Raven said half-impressed and half in disbelief.

“I had an idea of what it was. It appeared after I took the Fall Maiden’s Inheritance. Care to enlighten me?”

“It was Salem’s mark. Proof you’ve used her Magic.” Raven turned her around in anger. “You were lucky. You didn’t know, but you would’ve been made Salem’s vessel if you didn’t make that guess. It was still stupid to rely on her in the first place.”

“If you were around, maybe it wouldn’t have come to that,” Cinder said with a slight hurt in her voice.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself before it sinks into your thick head? I did what was best for both of us. You will always live a better life without me!”

“And how many times have I told you that I want a life with you?!”

The two were about to exchange another string of angry words, when they realized they should be quieter.

“You never came to see me,” Cinder said softly.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“You didn’t come for me, when I was trapped in the Never Realm.”

“…”

“You didn’t come for me, after I was revived by your daughter.”

“…”

“You didn’t try to find me, when I returned to Atlas.”

“…”

“Only at my most powerful, when I need you least, do you show yourself.”

“……That’s right.”

Cinder’s Aura materialized into falling ash. Her anger and sorrow surged.

“Why, Raven? Why didn’t you come for me?!”

“I have no excuse.”

“You love me! SO, WHY?!”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying!”

“You don’t know anything! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A CHILD! I took advantage of you and made you dependent! I reciprocated something I shouldn’t have, and that was a mistake!”

“You can’t hide from what you truly feel.”

“There’s only one person I ever loved. And it wasn’t you.”

Seeing the pain cross Cinder’s expression caused Raven to get up and fall into the nearest chair. The older woman felt an unbearable guilt by the time the words left her lips. Emotions always ran high when Cinder was concerned—as well as a persistent headache. She said so many things she never meant. This girl Raven met as a child and raised into a young woman. On her personal long list of reasons to hate herself, this was one of the more prominent.

…

“…I tried to find you,” Raven admitted.

“I know.”

“I tried to kill the previous Spring Maiden myself.”

“I know.”

The older woman stared at her wide-eyed.

“You knew I tried to save you?!”

“I knew,” the Fall Maiden spoke with a bitterness. “I wanted to torture you a little. How does it feel to be on the other end?”

Raven scratched her head in frustration. When she was ready to yell more, Cinder pushed herself onto her lap.

“I can see it. You wish I loved another. You think you aren’t worth loving, because you’re cursed.”

“…”

“What a foolish sentiment.” Cinder weaved her hands through Raven’s hair, and then held her face in her palms. “Even if such a thing were true, I can’t change who I love…”

She planted a teary kiss on the other’s lips.

“I can’t ask you to return my feelings. But if you did feel the same way……Would it hurt you so much to show it?” Cinder pleaded.

“…It would.”

Raven picked her up, and then pressed Cinder into the bed.

“It would.”

#rwby #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #cinder fall #raven branwen #cinder x raven #ENMY

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