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#no idea what they were thinking casting someone so young for her. but besides the point.
lesbianlenas · 9 months
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as i’m watching this i’m like why do i want triss to be a lesbian in the show when i romanced her as geralt when i played witcher 3 & now i’m realizing it’s bc i want to date her & that’s why i was ok w her being heterosexual w geralt in witcher 3 bc i was geralt 😭 now that i can’t romance her as him i’m like ok what if she kissed a woman 😳 lmfao….
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berzahoes · 5 months
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manifestation, baby! | tom blyth
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summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)
an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk
for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019
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liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others
tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭
lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME
tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me
nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad
j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL
graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS
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“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.
“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.
“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.
you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”
“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.
“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video
“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.
“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.
“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”
“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.
“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”
tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”
“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”
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liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others
ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️
rachelzegler she is THAT girl
ynlovesbooks no u
everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL
ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍
chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this
ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf
tomblyth true
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eyesanddragons · 6 months
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Albatross, Animus Dragons and Preventable Tragedies
(Also Known as: This tragedy was not inevitable, let's talk about responsibility)
(CWs: Murder, Abuse)
So, Legends Darkstalker as a book has a lot of thoughts about fate and inevitability. Clearsight and Darkstalker try and fail to create an ideal future for the both of them, Fathom is scared that he can't prevent his animus magic from destroying is soul, and the readers know how all of this is going to end since Legends Darkstalker is a prequel to Arc 2.
In the midst of all this talk about inevitability and fate we have...Albatross. Someone who we've known about since Arc 1 and know how his story ends. He causes the Royal Seawing Massacre, his magic allegedly "driving him insane." What's interesting about Albatross is that when you really look at his life, this historical version of it falls short in many ways. The retelling of his life leave out important context, and notably, scrub any idea that someone or multiple someones might have caused him to act like this.
It's Albatross' fault in the end, it's his fault for losing control, his fault for being "insane."
But if we take an actual look at the story in Legends Darkstalker you find that this really isn't the case.
Albatross found out he was an animus in a very...unpleasant way. He enchanted a shell to bite the claws off his sister, Sapphire. This event was deeply traumatic and would stick with Albatross for his entire life. You might be wondering why Albatross didn't fix Sapphire's claws considering his powers and I'll get to one of the reasons in a bit since it's very important to what I'm trying to say, but @/kinkajouwof breaks it down over here.
In short, most likely the reason why Albatross didn't fix it at the start is due to uncertainty if he really Could do it and because Albatross and Sapphire were terrified.
The reason more important to my point though is that Lagoon Actively Benefited from this fear. When Lagoon became Queen she would hold this action over Albatross whenever he was unwilling to do things to guilt him into following what she wanted him to do.
"This is a waste of time, Lagoon," he said. "Nobody ever tested me, but we figured out quickly enough what I could do. If any of them have a shred of power, surely they would of known by now. Or it will become obvious, sooner or later." "I'd prefer sooner," the queen said silkily. "If we find another animus in the tribe, that would make us twice as powerful, which would be quite useful given how the Mudwings and Rainwings have been behaving lately. And the earlier we find her, the sooner you can start to train her, and the sooner I can start to use her." "Besides," she added in a lower voice, so Fathom had to strain to hear her, "I think we would all prefer to discover our next animus in a less...dramatic fashion than you were discovered. Don't you?" Albatross flinched, just slightly. He cast a skeptical eye across the young. "My power is more than enough for whatever you need. I've given you everything you've asked for, haven't I? And I don't want an apprentice."
Afterwards Lagoon commands Albatross to start the test but you can see what I mean. Lagoon actively threatens Albatross and Exploits Him, and wants to find Other Animus Dragons to Exploit. He is not just a Subject to Lagoon, he is an Object to Lagoon. Non-sexual objectification.
She plans to do the same thing to another animus, Lagoon's rule was built on Exploiting the powers of the people she could Control. She wants to find them young so she could mold them into the tools she wanted them to be earlier. She wants to condition them to treat themselves as objects Now.
This treatment comes to a head during the banquet. Where Lagoon once again holds what happened to Sapphire over his head, while also threatening to Replace Him.
"Here is our first animus," Queen Lagoon said to the Skywings, who seemed to have figured that out themselves, judging by the looks of terror on their faces. "My brother, Albatross. We were just talking this morning about what his next project should be. I'm thinking big this time. Something that makes me invulnerable, perhaps. Or something that kills any dragon who might be a threat to me." Beyond Albatross, over the couches, Splash stiffened, and Fathom saw her crush one of the hibiscus blossoms between her claws. He glanced around and saw his father put a wing around Manta, who had gone pale. "Yes," Albatross said. "Although you recall I wasn't exactly enthused about any of those ideas." "Then it's lucky you're not my only animus dragon," Queen Lagoon said coldly. Fathom felt a shiver all the way down to the tip of his tail. If she asked him to do a spell like that, would he? Would he obey his queen and put his own mother in danger? Or disobey her, and perhaps put everyone he cared about in even worse danger? What would she do to Indigo If I ever said no to her? Albatross stopped right in front of the queen, snout-to-snout with her. Fathom couldn't read his face. He looked as though he'd been carved from stone, any emotions chipped away. "Do you think you're done?" Queen Lagoon said to him softly. "Do you think you'll ever be done atoning for what you did to Sapphire? It's not going to end Albatross. You'll always be mine."
This is a bit of a blunder on Lagoon's part since Albatross Kills her! She's revealed that she is Never going to let him go, that no matter how hard he works he's never going to escape. No matter what he does he will be an Object to her. Fight, Flight or Freeze, stay here and be worked to death killing hundreds of people or Escape Now.
And Albatross...chose Fight.
Note that Albatross literally says right here that he doesn't Want to make Lagoon Invulnerable, he doesn't Want to give her the power to kill people.
When he starts killing other people it's not because he became ax-crazy. He killed the Queen, no matter how horrible and cruel she was their all going to defend her...and they've never thought about him. They've never cared for him. To them he was also an Object.
So...he kills them too.
Now I'm not saying He should of killed all those people, murder is bad actually. But this is a Consequence of Lagoon and the rest of Seawing society's actions. This is the direct, real, bloody consequence of treating a person like an object designed to serve their every whim.
This wasn't something he was doomed to be, this is something that has a tangible cause and effect. The system and the way it treated him is What Caused This.
Except, none of the Seawings who survived Want to face that. They don't Want to accept responsibility for that. Why should they accept the responsibility and guilt of having lead one of their own to believe that murder was the only way to escape a truly horrific and abusive situation...when they have a perfectly convenient scapegoat. Remember...Albatross is an object. Lagoon died, not because she perpetuating a horrible abusive situation that her society allowed her to do due to the absolute power she was given, but because she handled Albatross Improperly. Animus magic is just a dangerous thing, and the people who can use it are dangerous tools. This isn't Their Fault for treating a person like an object, it's the fault of improper usage of a tool.
It's a more convenient story for everyone...except for Fathom who proceeds to be treated horribly and drown himself in guilt and shame for being Dangerous.
Seawing Society caused something horrible and instead of trying to fix it, turned their backs and pretended they did nothing wrong. When we see Anemone their doing the Exact Same Thing to her. She is an object, a weapon of war, and she will be treated as such. Anemone believes she's doomed to become evil and almost Kills her family out of the belief that she is doomed to become a mass murderer.
Albatross' Massacre was preventable, and that's what makes it tragic.
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k-dokja · 2 years
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summary: cheer up malleus... you're just socially inept, you're still rich and powerful!
settings: established relationship + reader is married to malleus + arranged marriage, but they're intimate
author’s note: i love clowning malleus 🥴 also briefly i forgot the name of their house and kept thinking briar draconis for some reasons.
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malleus was... whistling when you passed him earlier.
it is decidedly unnerving for you to see the young prince in a good mood, even if you knew the origin of his pleasant disposition. and like how his happiness does not go unnoticed by everyone, someone notices your apprehension.
"i hope you don't mind me intruding. you've been out of the spot lately, i just wanted to come and see if something's the matter."
it's lilia who approaches you while you're stuck doing paperwork at your personal office. with malleus' eventual enrolment to the college, much of his duty is taken up by you. the increased pile of work is a nice distraction from your feeling about the entire ordeal.
not that it's enough to fool the eyes of the wise one.
"ah, vanrouge," you keep your face perfectly neutral at his arrival, "i just thought about calling for you, have a seat."
lilia wears an indulgent smile befit for a parent. as you put aside the documents, he makes himself comfortable on the chair in front of your desk. "i assume this has something to do with our mutual source of concern? his highness would argue that he is not a child for us to fret so much over."
drearily, you smile back, "even if would that be the case, malleus has never gotten a good record when dealing with the common people." you pinch the bridge of your nose and push away the memory of the last excursion to the town.
it has been decent until his true identity slipped. the masses take all but a second to scurry away from him or cower in fear. controlling the damage afterwards has been a pain in your back on top of the lengthy lecture his grandmother gave the two of you.
never again. you can handle pouting malleus, but the queen of briar valley is springy for her age and she can talk for hours about his safety, not to mention her scolding you. back then, you were meant to be the responsible one and not led him into potential danger. with your experience combined with his raw magic, you'd argue that both of you were never been in a rough spot.
however, you also forgot your position as the princess consort of the briar valley. his well-being should've been the priority of concern, you were beside yourself that time. not this, however, you were going to play the dutiful one like you were tasked to be.
"based on past experience, i have concerns that he will continue to be disappointed. in an environment of young, even if educated, boys, they are too young and impressionable to deal with someone of malleus' strength and status. from what we've learned, there are other royal children and nobles enrolling... but none of them has interacted with malleus in recent years, if at all."
"mhm, this has been worrying you, hasn't it?" lilia nods thoughtfully. "here i thought you were strangely supportive when malleus brought this up."
"i am not against the idea. it will do well for our future monarch to be in touch with the common people," you correct. "however, as it stands, i do not want this experience to upset him. if this turned foul, he might be more alienated from the children of men and our common people than he ever was."
lilia casts a side-long look at the painting of your wedding day. it perches on the wall left where you sit, framed by black wood and golden ornament. the picture moves at times, but both of you know it has no life. the imagery painted carries a fragment of memories from that day, when you and malleus were wedded. the two of you take the centre of the painting, surrounded by your family and closest friends.
lilia included.
a strange smile curves lilia's lips, "that's what i will be there for, you have nothing to worry about with me there. have i ever disappointed you, your highness?"
you want to bring up the weird murder of crows which incant dead languages that he brought to your wedding day. but outside of his moment of eccentricities, lilia is, by far, the most trustworthy and reliable man you can count on.
you sigh, resigned to the situation, "let's hope it won't come to the need for your intervention."
yes, all it boils down to now is hope.
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malleus keeps correspondence with you during his time at the college.
in the first week, he was enthusiastic and hopeful. he notified you of his success in overthrowing the previous housewarden of diasomnia. you wrote back with congratulation. inside, however, you had thought that if he lost then there be not enough damage control for the media coverage of that royal embarrassment.
the messages got less enthusiastic as time goes by. his hope dwindles more and more by the time his first month is completed. however, you encouraged him to stay vigilant. children of men are flexible, they will adapt to him at one point.
then comes the second month and the same pattern of the last repeats.
you cannot help but worry more, even if malleus stays hopeful during his message with you. although your responsibility keeps you occupied, you try to uplift malleus whenever you can. however, even with the positivity from him, you cannot help the feeling that something is amiss.
(you, later on, learned that his name was leona kingscholar, another foreign prince)
the visit has been an impromptu one, notified to only concerned parties: lilia and crowley. both of which are out of necessities instead of want. you don't want to alarm either of the old men about the sudden appearance of a foreign and powerful magical source.
but outside of that, your decision to check in has been a secret even to malleus.
no sooner than after you step into the hall of mirrors, you're greeted by an oppressive atmosphere native to the college ground. before, when you tread the campus to assert its suitability for malleus, you've sniffed this out from the age-old architect of the buildings.
however, here, without a patron guiding your way, it has become even more prominent. the spirits which dwell here do not react kindly to strangers, even if they are allowed ones.
you push away the thought and hasten your steps towards the diasomnia mirror. never mind the spirits of this place, you prefer to go in and out without another student spotting you. it'd have been weird trying to explain the situation when you only want to deal with a family issue.
the mirror turns into a cool liquid on your skin when you thrust your hand through it. however, your plan never gets the chance to fall into place.
"going somewhere?"
you recoil in surprise. but upon seeing the asker, you heave out a sigh, hands propped on your hip. "malleus," you say, "it's not nice to surprise your elders."
he smiles. it's awkward and unpracticed. you have a feeling he hasn't done that for a while. then, it vanishes as fast as it comes, "you should've told me you were coming. i would've prepared to greet you."
"i'm only here for a couple of minutes," you sigh, "i've come to meet you, actually."
"oh?"
you nod and wear a pleasant smile. yours is practised and natural. no one can even suspect a thing. "i've missed you," you say readily, "lilia said it's not wise for married couples to be away from each other for far too long."
malleus looks vaguely amused, "there is only a month left until the break, but if that's the reason you've given, then i will believe it. just this time."
he narrows his eyes at you. but you keep your smile, perfect and innocent. in the end, he relents before you, "come with me, we shouldn't be seen here."
once you stepped up within arm's reach, malleus takes hold of your waist and pulls you closer to him. the brush of his magic on your skin is electrifying. a jolt shoots down your spine, more a pleasant buzz than a numbing shock.
by the time it's gone, the two of you are somewhere else entirely. a secluded corner in a garden, where life springs forth even on night raven's cursed ground. malleus lets go of you upon arrival, giving you the chance to take in the scenery.
"i like this area of the garden," he muses, "it's serene and beautiful, almost untouched by the ravage of men. the flowers bloom brighter and stronger here. i come here whenever i miss you."
"it's gorgeous, malleus, but wouldn't your bedchamber be more prudent for privacy?" you question matter-of-factly.
however, malleus answers with a sly smile, "do you think your visit can be 'a couple of minutes' if we went to my bedroom?"
"malleus," you cross your arms, "do you plan on scandalizing your entire dorm? you know we are not subtle without the wards blocking the residual energy."
he only shrugs, "the warding can be prepared for next time. for magic, noises, and any subsequent tremors. if you have any concerns about the students, i will ask for lilia's assistance with evacuating the dorm beforehand. he will understand if it's for the purpose of continuing the draconia line."
"it's improper to talk of this on the campus ground," you say, "it's a place for education, we shouldn't sully it with carnal matters. besides, you're committing to your education. we can save the heir-making for when you graduated."
"i can always leave if anything ought to happen," then, he adds with a morose note, "i do not have anything to hold me back from leaving this place, in any case."
your eyes widen. even if it's expected of him, you never expect it to affect him so. "i thought you were hopeful about this?"
"i was," he says shortly, glaring at the ground like he wants to burn a hole into it, "but i've interacted with enough children of men here to know nothing will change. yes, it might be a different environment with different people, but they continue to cower in front of me. some even flee at the mention of my name, it does make me wonder what have i done to instil in them with such fervour."
"oh, malleus," you step up to him. his shoulder stops tensing upon your close proximity, but he stays petulant, "it is their nature to fear the unknown. briar valley is secretive about its magic and people, they're simply afraid because they've not gotten the chance to familiarize themselves with you properly. i reckon most of them have never seen fae in their lives."
you cup his face and draw his gaze to your eyes. he softens, only a little, but remains silent. so, you continue, "i'm sure they'd react the same if i was in your position," you reassure, "give it at least a semester or even a year, and they'll go easy to your presence. children of men are adaptable, they will come to see you for who you are, not who you represent."
this time around, he smiles when you smile. but it fades when he sighs, "i suppose i should be more patient and realistic. even if my goal for socialization fails, at least, i will gain some experience as a normal student in a college."
there are at least several factors which make him an abnormal student, you'd argue: his age, his origin, his existing education, and his guardian. but that's neither here nor there. "that's better," you lean up to him, then kiss him on the chin, "you're the scion of the draconia, there's nothing you can't do."
"i'd say there are a few things," he wryly adds, "making friends, for example, but i'll try to live up to your expectation."
you nod, pleased with the outcome of your little intervention. that does not go unnoticed by malleus, "so, did you come here simply because of your fear of my ineptitude or was there something else?"
"what? noooo," you let out a forced laugh, "i missed you, remember? but i might have a teeny itty bitty little thing i need to discuss with lilia before leaving."
"so it's not just me but lilia you're also missing then," malleus teases, "let us go find him before your couple of minutes run out. his usual dwelling is only a short distance from here."
he takes your hand into his hand, fingers threaded with each other, "let us walk, i want to be with you longer."
the two of you continue with quiet chatter while you traverse the halls of the school's academic building. if not for his perceived frightening reputation, you reckon malleus would've garnered a lot of fans and friends alike. once his outer shield is down, he's sweet and charming.
his care for you shines through even in the simple touches, has it not for his natural affection, you don't think your relationship would've gotten this close.
however, your little bubble is burst when you round a corner without checking. you're discovered before malleus, who steps back in time, but not enough to prevent your exposure. two students stumble upon you, their eyes widening in surprise.
"you—"
"she's—"
"oh great sevens—"
they mutter among themselves, stunted to see you. when malleus ventures towards revealing his own presence, you raise a hand to stop him. you want to make an example and demonstrate the point of your earlier discussion. these children of men are simply shocked by a foreign figure, they're not malicious.
"you must be..." the first one stutters, his lips trembling when he talks, "p-princess consort of briar valley—"
your name, coming from him, sounds different. it's breathed out with an air of reverence that surprised you. both of them bow deeply at in front of you, it takes a second before you reply, "ah right, at ease. who might you two be?"
they both spring up and continue to admire you with reverence. "o-oh! we never thought we'd get to see you here!" the other one gushes. "we had dreamed when we learned that crown prince malleus would be here but to see you in person...!"
ah.
"oh... i did not expect the common people to know of me this far from our homeland," you say, "this is unexpected."
the first one continues, fervent adoration filling his eyes, "you've amassed a big following on magicam, your highness...! i, myself, run a fan account of you, it has gotten over t-two millions followers!"
"y-yes! you've inspired me to take up my historical study more seriously. i've decided to pursue a history major after reading about your accomplishments...!"
they continue to gush about you, mixing between future aspirations and media influences. after a while, their words confuse you, but you continue to wear a genial, understanding smile. that does not last for long. seemingly has his patience worn out, malleus is no longer content with standing there waiting.
he steps out from the shadows, lime-green eyes regally staring down at the two students. immediately at his appearance, the two snap taut with tension. gone were the previous affection they poured towards you, their eyes are now filled with an unspoken fear.
before you can even speak up to mitigate the tension, malleus speaks up, "i see my wife has taken up quite the intense admirers. how nice." the statement is factual, devoid of any emotion. yet, it is enough to spring the students into action.
"w-we didn't know you were here, your highness...!"
"we're deeply sorry!"
malleus tilts his head, "ah, but you haven't done something worth apologizing. there is no reason to fret, unless...?"
immediately, your admirers spring into action and run in the opposite direction, "we're sorry, your highnesses!" they yell as they escape. "we didn't mean to!"
their retreat is so sudden that you're left agape while malleus remains confused. after they disappeared completely from sight, malleus turns to you, frowning. "do you see what i meant? it is not a problem with fae, it is a problem with me."
"ah, but that was simply an anomaly," you pat him amicably on the arm, "the next one will be different, you'll see."
turns out your reassurance falls flat on the ground and gets trampled over. the next few "experiment" the two of you conducted with the students repeats the original encounter. if not them gushing over you, then the student either fawns or hits on you of some variety. by the fourth flock of students that you come across, malleus is visibly displeased and fuming.
you suspect it only has a little to do with how the last one kisses your hand for far too long.
"uhm."
"we'll never speak of this again."
"agreed."
so much for coming over to cheer him up.
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vodika-vibes · 1 month
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**Chapter 1**
Summary: When Commander Wolffe is forced into early retirement after losing an eye in a terrorist attack, he thinks his life is over. However, when his twin brother volunteers him to help a younger cousin adjust to life outside the military, he doesn’t fight as much as he normally would have. Still when his younger cousins, Rex and Gregor, told him that they signed up to play security for Doctors Without Borders, he genuinely thought that it was going to be the easiest job he’s ever had. Right up until the plane falls out of the sky and they end up stranded on an island that doesn’t follow any of the rules as he knows them.
Characters: Commander Wolffe, Captain Rex, Captain Gregor, F!Reader character called Bumblebee or Bee in story
Genre: Adventure, Supernatural, some romance (because I'm me)
Word Count: 2394
Warnings: None, so far
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: So I wasn't going to start this story until I finished my event stuff, but apparently I had an idea and needed to get it down.
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This is the worst.
The absolute worst.
He should be home, in the barracks, looking after his brothers in the 104th. He should be standing next to his general as they prepare for the next push against the Seppies.
But no. He’s here, miles away from where he should be, waiting for the tiny plane to finish getting loaded for the last stretch of his, and his cousins, journey.
Wolffe can’t even bring himself to enjoy the scenery, why bother, it’s not like he’s going to be here long anyway. He leans against the back of the bench that he’s sitting on, his gaze flickering around the airstrip until he spies Rex and Gregor, talking with a pair of women near the building. 
Good. So long as they’re not getting in trouble.
Not that he really expected them to. But as the oldest, he can’t help but look out for them.
Especially Gregor.
His cousin had healed very nicely from the injury that nearly killed him. He’s still himself, the TBI doing very little to change his personality, but his memory is still spotty.
It’s one of the biggest reasons that he didn’t fight quite as hard as he normally would have when Fox volunteered him for the position. Besides, Doctors Without Borders is a respectable organization.
He could do worse.
Sure that his cousins are safe and aren’t wandering off to get mugged by someone who hates tourists, Wolffe casts his gaze back to the plane. And slowly his eyebrows raise when one of the doors open and a young woman hops out of the cockpit.
She looks familiar.
She looks very familiar.
He knows that jacket. He damn well better, he was the one who bought it in the first place.
He pushes to his feet and approaches the plane, and…there, on the side of her neck, a bumblebee tattoo with a honeycomb behind it.
A grin crosses his face without his permission, “Well now, look who it is. Lieutenant Bumblebee, in the flesh.”
She turns, and a wide grin crosses her face, “Wolffe? What brings you to my corner of paradise?” She walks over to him and bumps her fist against his, “I thought ‘vacations are beneath you’.” She mocks.
“Yeah, yeah. They are. I got a job with Doctors Without Borders, with some of my cousins.” He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, “I heard that you were living in the lap of luxury, though. White sandy beaches and fruity little drinks with umbrellas-”
She laughs, “Does this look like retirement to you, Wolfy-boy?”
“Dunno, you always loved to fly more than anything else.” He folds his arms over his chest, “Seeing you with a plane doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Wolffe pauses, “You know, I did hear a rumor-”
Her smile becomes slightly strained, “That I was Dishonorably Discharged and slapped with a court martial? Cause that’s not a rumor.”
“Shit, really?” She doesn’t respond and Wolffe rolls his eyes, “Come on, Bee. It’s me. What happened?”
“Gross Insubordination.” She says with a sigh, “Look, after I was transferred from Koon, I was given to Krell.”
Wolffe inhales sharply.
“Yeah.” Her laugh is slightly bitter, understandably bitter, “Well, I took issue with how he treated the men under his command and I didn’t hesitate to tell him so. So I was grounded and slapped with a court martial. And by the time Krell was removed and arrested for abusing the men under his command, everything had taken a life of its own, so I just took the Dishonorable Discharge.”
“You could have fought it.”
“Could have.” Bee agrees, “Just…the way that some of the people I’ve known for years looked at me.” She sighs and pushes her hand through her hair, “There was no point. Luckily, Plo put in a good word for me here.”
“Good thing the General likes you.”
“Tell me about it. I could do far, far worse than being a pilot for an organization as well respected as this one.” She shrugs and glances at her clipboard, “Not to mention, they’re pretty good about making sure that my prosthetics are up to par-”
“Prosthetics? What prosthetics?” Wolffe asks, his gaze snapping down her body, “Since when do you need prosthetics?”
Bee arches a delicate brow and lifts the leg of her long pants, revealing a matte gray prosthetic leg. “Parting gift from Krell.” She pauses, “Or, well, that’s my guess. I was officially injured in combat. But I’m almost positive that there weren’t any seppies on that planet-”
She pauses and takes a deep breath, dropping the leg of her pants and gestures vaguely with her clipboard, as if to say well, what can you do.
As if Wolffe needed another reason to hate Krell. Life in prison is too good for him.
“Sorry, I didn’t know. No one told me.”
“Yeah, well. It’s not as if I had very many friends left behind after the Court Martial.” She shrugs, “Anyway, what happened to your eye?”
“That blunt, huh?”
“That blunt.”
“Seppies.”
“Isn’t it always?”
Wolffe releases a humorless laugh, “Seems like it.” He leans against a crate, “Officially, I was medically discharged. Technically, I’m on medical leave for the next six months.”
“General Koon favors you.”
“Don’t I know it.” Wolffe’s gaze drags across the crates of medical supplies and other supplies, “So, who all are you transporting.”
“Well, according to my manifest-” Bee flips to a back page, “You, Rex and Gregor-” She pauses, “Is blondie over there, Rex? Shit, last time I saw him he was still in high school.”
Wolffe grins, “He’s a Captain now.”
“Ugh, I feel old.”
“You feel old? How do you think I feel?”
Bee laughs, “That’s what you get for being one of the oldest.” She glances back at her manifest, “Anyway, I’m also transporting a new nurse, her name is Raya Valencia. And a mechanic on loan from the GAR, Maty Wilson. Also, someone from the local government forced his way onto the manifest.”
“Mm, politics.”
“There’s no escaping it, I’m afraid.” Bee sets her manifest aside, “Anyway, someone will have to sit in the cockpit with me with the new addition.”
“Is that an offer, Bee?”
“What, you want a handwritten invitation?”
Wolffe laughs, “Hardly. I’ll be more than happy to sit up front with you. Maker knows we clearly have some catching up to do, LT.”
Bee grins at him, “Hardly my fault you went and got promoted to Commander and stopped associating with us minions.”
“Hey, I’ve always had a soft spot for you minion-y types.”
“Yeah, yeah,” There’s a laugh in her voice, “Beat it, Wolfy-boy. I have work to do. We’ll be lifting off in thirty.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” He tosses his bag over his shoulder and meanders on over to his cousins, as Bee turns to shout at a worker in a language he kind of recognizes.
It’s damned good to see her. Though it is a shame to hear about what happened to her.
“Making friends, Wolffe?” Rex asks with an arched brow.
“Chatting with an old friend,” Wolffe replies, “One that you know. You’ve met Bee before.”
Rex blinks, twice, and then his head snaps towards the plane, “Wait Bee? That Bee? The one we met at your graduation?”
“The one and the same.”
Rex stares in her direction, “Small world-”
“Tell me about it.”
“What happened between you two anyway?” Gregor asks, “If I remember correctly, you two were a thing-”
“Drop it.” Wolffe frowns at them, and then he sighs, “We were never a thing. I chickened out before I could ask her. And then I was promoted and it wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
“Well, she’s not in the military anymore-” Rex prods with a grin.
“Drop. It.”
“Okay, okay.” Rex holds his hands up, “Sorry. There’s no need to get snippy.”
Wolffe opens his mouth to say something, only to pause when Bee jogs over, “Alright Boys, and Girls and both and neither,” She says as she claps her hands, “The Airstrip is needed for an emergency medevac so we’re hauling out of here early. Get your stuff on board and make sure everything is secured.”
“Copy that, LT.” Rex says with a cheerful salute.
“Don’t you sass me, Rexy. I remember you as a pimply high schooler.”
“Yes, but I outgrew that. See, pimple free.” His grin widens, “You, however, are still short.”
“Get!” Bee shouts as she points at the plane, and Rex, laughing, hurries past her. And then she turns her glare on Wolffe, “How is he just as obnoxious now as he was when he was a kid?”
“It’s just his personality. Sorry, Bee.”
Bee scowls at him and then hurries off to go and find the politician, probably.
Wolffe shakes his head and joins his cousins at the plane, where he promptly smacks Rex across the back of the head, “You piss her off and I’m the one who pays for it, how’s that fair?”
Rex, for his part, doesn’t look the least bit apologetic. Which only serves to make Wolffe more annoyed with him. Still, he’s mature enough to let the situation settle as everyone climbs on the plane.
Wolffe stows his bag under some netting, and then climbs into the co-pilot’s seat, while making sure that everyone else is strapped in properly. He’s not so worried about Rex or Gregor, but the two civvies might need some help.
And then Bee is back, with an older man in tow. He’s wearing a nice suit, nicer than anything Wolffe has seen anyone wearing since he arrived here, and he’s holding a cloth over his mouth and nose.
“My dear,” The old man says in a raspy smoker’s voice, and Wolffe doesn’t even have to look at Bee to know that she rolled her eyes at the diminutive pet name, “Surely there’s someplace…private for me to sit?”
“Nope.” Bee replies, “Small transport vessel. No private rooms.” She points to an empty seat across from Gregor, next to the door, “Sit there.”
“Well, I suppose the door is the best seat.” He muses as he sits down and only fastens the belt around his waist.
“You need to fasten the-” Gregor starts.
“Young man, I know what I’m doing.” The older man interrupts with a sniff.
Bee rolls her eyes again and lightly claps Gregor on the shoulder, “Don’t worry about it.” She moves through the aisle, taking a moment to make sure that everything is secured, and then she moves into the cockpit and pulls the door shut behind her.
She tosses Wolffe a lopsided grin, and offers him the spare headset, “I know you don’t fly much anymore, Commander, but surely you can co-pilot for one flight?”
Wolffe chuckles and takes the headset, pulling it on, “Well, I suppose I’d better.” He leans back in his seat and he watches as she effortlessly goes through the pre-flight check.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the plane is in the air, and pulling away from the airfield. And Bee activates her radio, “Alright everyone, as of now, our flight will take three hours, we’re taking a circuitous route to avoid a storm-”
She’s interrupted when the radio from the back crackles to life, “Absolutely not! I refuse to spend more time in this tin can than I have to. Take a shorter route or I’ll have your job!”
Bee glances at Wolffe, and then sighs, “As you wish. Then our flight will take an hour.” She cuts the radio, and glances at Wolffe, “This is going to go horribly.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky?” Wolffe offers.
Bee just sighs, and turns her gaze out the front window, “We won’t.”
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Wolffe wakes with a pained groan. His head is throbbing.
Actually, his everything is throbbing. Including his eyelashes.
His eyes crack open and the sun, high overhead, nearly blinds him.
Wait. Sun?
Wolffe opens his eyes properly. The top of the plane is gone. He’s still strapped to his seat, luckily, and he still seems to be in the cockpit, but the roof is gone.
“Bee?” He, painfully, turns his head to the side, looking towards the pilot’s seat. Bee is still strapped in her seat, her head lolled to her chest, blood dripping from a wound on her temple. “Bee!”
She groans at his voice, “Stop yelling,” Bee’s eyes crack open and she groans, “Ow…”
“What happened?” Wolffe asks, “Do you remember?”
“I was ordered to take a shortcut, and then-”
The storm.
The clouds came from nowhere. One moment there were clear skies, and then it was like flying through a hurricane. Wolffe had been forced to actually co-pilot to help Bee keep the plane under control.
“-the door ripped off,” Wolffe remembers, vague memories of the various consoles flaring to life in front of him as the side door opened.
“Which would have caused a pressure imbalance,” Bee agrees, as she unfastens her harness and falls out of her seat, “Which would lead to-” She gestures to where the roof used to be. “You okay?”
“I think my everything is bruised.” Wolffe says as he pulls his own harness off and reaches for the door separating the cockpit from the rest of the plane.
“Better bruised than dead,” Bee replies logically as she adds her weight to the door. Together, they push the door open.
Rex and Gregor are unconscious, but clearly alive. As are the two civvies, Raya and Maty. The politician is missing.
“We’re missing one,” Wolffe notes as he checks over his cousins.
“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll find him.” Bee says, “he wasn’t wearing his harness.”
Wolffe glances at the ripped seat belt and silently concedes that she’s probably right. “We need to get them off the plane.”
“Yeah. Let’s make a path first, make sure we’re not bringing them into something more dangerous.” Bee says. “We have plenty of equipment, at least.” She adds with a wry smile.
“Small blessings.” Wolffe agrees, “Come on, Bee. Let’s see what we’re working with.”
He walks over to where the door used to be, and he hops out, with Bee hot on his heels. With luck, they’ll find someplace safe nearby. 
With luck, they’ll only be here for a couple of days.
Wolffe isn’t going to hold his breath, though. He’s never been very lucky.
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howdothoughtscollide · 8 months
Text
The Start Of An Unusual Friendship
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Fyodor Dostoevsky x gn!reader (Platonic)
WARNING: mentions of child labor, reader is illiterate, mentions of slapping and family abandonment, my goofy side took over.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Part one of the Childhood friend au, I guess?
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Diaphanous and aureate stripes of sunlight refracts through the green foliage, dappling the thick mattress of moss and grasses, dancing along with the vermillion and mauve hues of delicate flower petals. Serene wind, which carries along the effervescent chirping of birds, harmonizes with mellow humming of a lullaby mothers sing to their child, as it embrace you in the soothing warmth of summer.
As your feet set their steps on the soft and muddy path of the forest, your mind can not help but wander to a rumor concerning a boy in your village.
The village, where you were born, is a poor one. Adults who are unable to find a job and try to drink their sorrow away, children who have to do labor from a young age to provide for their family. But there is one house which seems to be well-off, since the husband works in the city. 
The son of that family, who is weak since birth, instead of being thrown into the orphanage, or being dumped in the forest like other frail infants, is still loved by his parents and was taught how to read and write.
”That couple is so stupid. What’s the point in raising such a feeble child?” Your neighbor scrunched her face, clearly expressing her disdain. “All that money is better spent on themselves, or just making another kid who can bring food to the table.”
That’s adults’ remarks about him, a dissipation of money and time.
 “You mustn’t ever come near or even play with that kid. It’ll spoil you, all you need is to think about what to eat tomorrow, not looking at useless paper and sitting around all day.” 
That’s what your mother told you, a bad influence.
“He is super, super weird. Did you see him? He never moved at all, he looked like a dead person. People say if you see him moving, you need to run or he’ll turn you into a statue like him!!!”
That’s what your friends whisper to each other, a monster.
All of those warnings couldn’t stop you, not when your curiosity is piqued. Even if you’re turned into stone or something, it’ll certainly be worthwhile. And besides, someone who understands books must be very cool, because you’ve never really comprehended that jumbling mess.
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Where was his hideout again?. You try to recall your friends’ vague description, hands pushing away the green that is covering your vision.
Is it here?. You peek through the tall bushes, eyes scanning the area. 
Through the small gap between the leaves, your eyes went round, standing still as if you were actually petrified.
There he sits, ethereal and mesmerizing, mirroring that of an angel you once saw in an abandoned church, now a hangout place for kids in your village. Honeyed liquid sunlight dips his features in an almost apprational glow, a huge contrast to the stream of pure black pouring down around it. His slender fingers, which are brushing over the pages, despite having uneven nails, are clean and smooth, undoubtedly different from your dirty and calloused hands, a sign of manual labor for a long time. His long and delicate eyelashes cast shadow over the sea of hyacinth, which appears to be peering straight into your soul.
Wait a minute? Your little admiring session is suddenly halted. Is he … looking at me?!?!
The realization whacks you out of your stalled state, losing control of balance. Your hand attempts to grab a branch for stability, which is to no avail, as gravity sends you to a kiss with the ground.
You hiss from the previous intimate moment with mother earth, as you notice the soft pedicel clasped between your fingers. 
A carnation??? Confusion is written all over your face. So this is the reason why the branch felt like it came off on a whim. No wonder you fell. Who thought it would be a good idea to pluck a flower and put it on a tree branch??? I swear if I found that person I-
Ah, sh*t. Your eyes met those violet ones again, and immediately your anger shrunk. Putting that idiot who decided a carnation would add on to the bland tree aside, you have a bigger problem.
You didn’t get turned into stone, but how you should even react when you’re caught staring at someone, nobody told you he’d be this beautiful, not at all.
“H-Hi.” You shoot him an awkward smile, the corner of your mouth twitching.
No answers were heard from him, and those eyes are burning holes in your face.
He must think I’m a weird and creepy kid who likes stalking people and watching them from a dark corner!!! You cry and scream internally, but you still try to save the last piece of dignity you have left in front of him.
“Uh…”. Slowly getting up, you’re about to utter the most sincere, heartfelt apology in your life.
“A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.” You hold the carnation in his direction, eyes closing shut from the embarrassment.
THAT was not an apology. 
Why did you say that, you dummy? You even used “lady”??? You slap your internal self.
It’s not my fault, that’s what I heard a guy apologized to his girlfriend the other day! They cried, justifying your actions.
Your eyebrows quirked in disbelief at you and your internal self’s stupidity, as you sign in defeat.
You open your eyes, ready to accept your fate of being called an abnormal kid. To your surprise, he appears to be unfazed, putting his attention on the book again.
Oh. You blinked. Is he nonchalant about everything? You threw away the humiliation you felt just seconds ago, replaced with curiosity. Now, you wonder if there is any way to break his composure, and how will you know if you don’t test it out?
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My name is Fyodor Dostoevsky, and I love reading in the woods since it gives me just the right amount of tranquility. 
Today, I was keeping with my usual routine when I sensed a pair of watching eyes behind the bushes. I stare back at them, but they seem to be so deep in thought they did not notice it.
Ah, they took note of my gaze.
Are they falling? Disheveled hair, dirty face, but no hints of injury so they must be fine. Are they seizing a flower in their hand? Anyways, I hope they’re spooked by my appearance and run away like other children. Then, I may continue reading, it’s getting to the climax of the story after all.
Why are they still here? They were stunned and baffled moments ago, now what are they doing??? Making weird faces, peeking at my book, tugging my hair, poking my face???Are they searching for a means to annoy me? What is the purpose of pursuing such reactions?
Well, I need some silence to read right now. If I keep up my cold and indifferent demeanor, they’ll eventually get bored and leave righ-
“BOO!” 
The popped up voice in his head intruded the train of thoughts, making Fyodor jump from the log he was sitting on, and almost dropped his book. Fyodor turned his head to you, face mimicking that one of a startled stray cat in your village when you sneaked up behind to hug it.
Haha, did I go too far? You contemplate, since he is kinda similar to that cat now, on full alert and on the verge of scratching your face out with its claws as soon as you move by an inch.
Retreating the hand that was on his back, you curl it into a fist and cough into it to gain his attention.
“Ahem!So…”
So what? What exactly were you planning to say? I wanted to take a look at the supposed “demon”??? He’ll definitely tear my facial skin off if I told him that. Your pupils dilate, thoughts rushing over your head, attempting to come up with a way to break this unnerving silence.
Your body acted on instinct, and before you could have given any second thoughts, tucked the carnation behind his ear. “You look even more gorgeous with this crimson flower.”
Fyodor’s eyes got even wider, and you know you’ve been done for.
Just why didn’t you toss the flower away and still have it all this time??? He can understand why I did that, right? 
Judging by his expressions, probably no.
I regret all my life decisions that led me to this, I wish I’d disappear right no-
“How did you do that?” The question dragged your mind, which had been considering extirpating yourself,  back to your body.
“Do what?” Your eyes narrowed at him.
“You know, the… “boo” thing.” Fyodor collected himself, closing the book after placing the marker ribbon.
“Oh, that.” You’re sweating a bucket now.
You were too fixated on provoking him, that you had forgotten to hide your secret, one you promised your mom you’d bring it to the grave.
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“Mom!!! Look at me, I can perform magic tricks!” You joyfully sprinted to your mom, enthusiastic to enlighten her with your new discovery.
“Dear, please go out and play with your friends elsewhere, I don’t have time for this.” Your mother clutched the bridge of her nose, clearly exhausted from the loading work at the railway.
“Please~, mother.” Your eyes twinkled. “I finished all the housework early, so can you? Just this timeeee~” Now you’re making the puppy dog eyes that she can’t resist.
A deep sigh escaped your mother, an indication of her giving in to your plea. “Fine, but make it quick.”
“You’re the best, mom!!!” You cheered at her, before carefully grabbing your mother’s hard hands between yours. “Now please pay attention.” 
“Surprise!!”
Your mom was gradually drifting into sleep, but the unexpected voice in her head absolutely wiped out her drowsiness. She lowered herself, grabbing your shoulder firmly. “What did you do? Can you do it again?”
You were taken aback by your mother’s abrupt movements, but you still complied with her request.
“Are you okay,mom?”
She heard it, your voice, bright and clear, in her head. This is it, my worst nightmare, one that I dreamt of each night. Why? Why did God have to be so cruel to me? Your mother bit her lips.
Dumb-founded at your mother’s distress, you’re confused why she wasn’t happy as you were about this quirk of yours.
“Mother?”
“You haven’t told anyone about this, have you?” She snapped her head at you, her grip so tight that you started to feel a little pain. 
“No… You’re the first one.” You tried to escape from her grasp, but your little struggle is no match for her grasp, failing repeatedly.
“Good, good…” Incoherent phrases flowing out of her mouth, leaving you more puzzled.
Ah, what am I thinking, they’re my child. Of course, they’re raised by me, they’re different from that bastard-
“Mom? You’re making me hurt.” Your face winced, finding the pain uncomfortable.
“Oh my, sorry, dear. Just promise me you won’t let anybody know about this, okay?” She quickly let go, a hand cupping your cheek.
“But why, mom? This may help us make mone-“
Smack
The heavy sound reverberates against the thin wall of the cold bedroom, with the moonlight outside being the only source of light and the witness of the whole ordeal. Then, bit by bit, it is switched by small whimpers and weakened sobs departing from your lips, tears rolling on your cheek, as if they are dazzling gems assembled from sorrow and agony, displayed under the watchful gaze of the moon.
Your mother frantically wiped glistening tears that threatened to damp the wooden floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Her voice was shaky, as she brought you into a hug, hands lightly patting your back to calm you down. “It’s just-, because this is a curse, dear. People who are unique like you, once revealed their abilities to others, are considered and reported as monsters. Then, they’re taken to a place, far, far away from here, and they’ll never return. No matter how long you wait for them, they’ll never come back. So, be a good child, and promise me? For your mommy?.” 
You nuzzled into her neck, suspending your cry, soaking the patched and washed out fabric. 
“Yes, mom.”
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Taking notice of your hesitation and uneasiness, Fyodor shifts to the side, patting the area beside him, signaling for you to sit down.
“It’s fine, you don’t need to tell me if you want to. But why are you here?” You seem to be relieved by his words, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“I heard you can read!” You beamed at him.
As you drown Fyodor with bazillion questions, eyes sparkling with curiosity, he figured another presence wouldn’t be so bad afterall.
And that is the start of your unusual friendship.
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A/N: This is Fyodor when he discovered there's a voice in his head:
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lya-dustin · 7 months
Text
All is Bliss
Chapter 56
Cw:mentions of blood, cousin incest and incarceration
Taglist @darylandbethfanforever9 @mercedesdecorazon @alexandria-millie @watercolorskyy @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs
Gif by @talesofoldandnew
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Aemond is nothing short of bored in his cell.
He has books, his infernal lute and little Aeg’s bouncy ball that he’s tossing at the wall beside the modest fireplace in his room. He has visitors, Ironrod and the Septon who hint at treason he could join, but Aemond shoots those offers down knowing Larys Strong is waiting for proof to get him short of a head.
After all, Aegon no longer needs Aemond to fuck his wife ---not that Aemond had ever planned not to fuck Aemma after the deed was done--- and should Aenys die in his cradle, there were two spare Targaryen boys to replace the gaps in the succession.
The spare was to serve the heir, something Ser Otto loved to remind him every time he outshone Aegon. If his grandfather had listened to his own advice the world would’ve thanked him instead of cursing him to something worse than the seventh hell.
“What do you want?” the bored prince asked Aegon who he heard coming by the curses he let loose from so many stairs.
“Can’t a brother visit his brother these days?” he asked as if nothing had happened.
“You had me arrested, Aegon.” Aemond said dryly as he continued to stare at the wall.
“Why did she have to love you?” his brother asked as if he knew the answer to that.
“Fuck if I know.” Aemond has no idea why Aemma loves him, he knows why he loves her, but why Aemma would love him is a mystery to the one-eyed prince.
Frankly, he was surprised his attempts at wooing had succeeded, but he supposed his success may have been due to his friendship with her. “I helped our mother usurp hers and it killed her and three of Aemma’s siblings, let you and Cole destroy what was left of her family and when you and mother forced her into adultery to make her have a child she never wanted, I didn’t do anything to stop it. If I were her, I would hate me for my inaction.”
I hate myself for my inaction.
His time in the Riverlands fighting for the most undeserving king he had seen yet had shown him that. So much time was wasted in the name of duty and all it did was extend a war that will end with them being forced to take the Black or dead.
Lord Stark was a young widower and will likely wed Aemma, or so it has been speculated, or Daemon would name himself Aemma’s Lord Protector and hack away the remnants of Otto Hightower’s family tree.
Either way they were fucked.
Gods, they had been so blind to believe in all the lies grandfather feed them through their mother.
He most of all.
“Then why did you agree to it all, if it was all so fucking wrong, why did you agree to do it?” Aegon asked, hating being cast as the villain. He would be if he hadn’t been raised to be someone’s puppet.
Their poor mother had been raised as one by her father and the poor girl didn’t know how not to raise children who think you are not worthy of love if you are not a slave to your parent’s whims. As much as they rebelled against it, none of them could ever say no to her and the man pulling the strings behind her.
Why else would Aegon agree to take the crown? Why else would Daeron die a loyal soldier without ever knowing anything else but duty? Why else would Aemond be Aegon’s second and agree to ruin Aemma’s life even after coming to see Rhaenyra was never the enemy?
“Duty.” He practically spat out the word like garbage in his mouth.
“I fucking hate that word.” Aegon calms, sits on the armchair Septon Eustace occupied mere moments ago for some reason Aemond didn’t care to remember. “Duty to her, duty to the realm, duty, duty, duty.
Aenys won’t fucking live like that. He’ll be free to do as he pleases, if he doesn’t want to be king, he won’t be king and we’ll crown my namesake, or little Viserys or even Daenaera. He can fuck girls, he can fuck boys, he can dye his hair blue and become a sellsword or a bard, but my son won’t grow up thinking he has a moral obligation to me or the realm because he has a cock.”
Aemond doesn’t like the way he calls him his. He thought he would learn to be fine with it, but he does not. In his anger he throws it wrong and the ball ricochets off the wall, onto the mantle and eventually falls into the cold fireplace.
No wonder Harwin was so keen to beat Cole to a pulp that day, to have a man mocking you for taking what scraps you get to have with your children who you can’t claim without killing them would make even the strongest crumble like marzipan.
Duty. Gods, what a prison it is.
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“What do you say to becoming Lady Lothston, Allie?” Lucas asks, playing with her dark tresses after sweet and somewhat satisfying sex in her room.
They are plotting to kill her. Not Aemma and the king, but Aemma’s greatest supporters, the Wyldes. Something so obvious even her new lover can see it.
Fools, the lot of them. Even if they knew sweet and innocent little Aenys would die if they killed her, Alys knows they would see it as a necessary sacrifice for the greater good. The witch needed to escape and live a long healthy life so all the babes she nursed in lifetime do not die with her.
Lucas Lothston would become Lord of Harrenhal due to Aegon needing a grown man to run the lands instead of a boy still in leading strings when he is rid of her half-brother.
Lucas was perfect, he already had two children from his dead Butterwell wife and would never raise his voice or hand at her no matter how wroth he got. They were cousins, his mother was her aunt and the woman never treated her badly. Yes, Cousin Lucas was perfect.
Perfect for her plans to escape without resorting to murder or worse, depending on her sisters’ kindness. If baby Petyr Lothston died young, Ida’s boys would still inherit either way, or one of her daughters would wed him to make sure House Strong lives on in Harren the Black’s cursed castle.
They could be happy, Lucas was always sweet to her and with enough spells, Alys could avoid having him the same fate as her dear William. Perhaps she will even get her chance to love again.
“Alys Lothston has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it, my love.” She could be happy, be Lady of Harrenhall and keep the Drowned God’s curses away from the lands to prevent the waking of the Great Other as the Ironborn God tried to do by consuming the life of his devoted servants in the castle.
Best of all, stop being someone’s servant and having to make deals with them for scraps. Alys would be free, though never free from her curse, but free from the cage society trapped her in when Larys killed their father and brother.
“If we wed now, you won’t have to join Baratheon’s host. Andal tradition say recently married men may be exempt from war until they have been wed for a full year.” The witch suggests giggling like a maid when he agrees to her scheme.
Septon Eustace is too far asleep when they bang on his door as excited as young lovers are. “What do you want Ser Lucas?”
“I want to marry Alys. Now, if your holiness can manage it.” Her lover and bridegroom say beaming from ear to ear.
The following morning, Lady Alys Lothston pricks her finger and has little Prince Aenys drink her blood as she does to the infants she binds to her. This would have been done when he was old enough to be weaned, but in order for the both of them to live now, Alys needs to finish the binding ritual before Jena Wylde can get her greedy paws on her.
The witch has never done it to a babe so young, she prays to the Crone that the fire of her lamp keeps that of the babe lit until she calls Alys home.
“From Life comes death, from death comes life. May the Crone’s lamp always shine on you, my sweet prince.” The witch whispered softly as she kissed the soft little head of the dragon prince who was never meant to exist.
By noon, Alys has been let go due to the scandal of her elopement and Lothson is made the Master-at-arms after his predecessor is found guilty of treason. By evening, Alys exhales in relief when she learns the prince had no trouble waking from his nap.
And yet the fires in her modest rooms still show the white owl of House Mertyns coming for her.
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autumnalwalker · 1 year
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15 Questions: Character interview edition
Thank you for the tag, @words-after-midnight. I do enjoy writing in-character responses to questions.
Passing the tag to @cljordan-imperium, @theprissythumbelina, @blind-the-winds, @oh-no-another-idea, @dogmomwrites, and an open tag for anyone else who wishes to join in the fun.
Since this week's upcoming Empty Names chapter is from Ashan Glassheart's POV, I'll queue him up for this. I'm tempted to go do the rest of the Empty Names cast at some point in the future as well, like I did last time.
1. Are you named after anyone?
My grandfather, although I have not used that name in more than half my life. I still think of it a name of mine, but it is also a memento of a time I cannot go back to. Meanwhile, "Glassheart" is an homage to my teacher's epithet of "Glassgaze." As is traditional.
2. When was the last time you cried?
When I visited the tombstone my parents put up for me.
3. Do you have any kids?
No, and I would prefer to avoid the possibility. I may consider adoption one day though, particularly if I ever decide to take an apprentice.
4. Do you use sarcasm?
Only sparingly.
5. What's the first thing you notice about people?
Their overall demeanor. Tone, body language, and etcetera. Useful elements for planning impending interaction.
6. What's your eye color?
Light brown. Someone once called them "amber," but that was an ill-conceived attempt at winning me over with poetry on his part coupled with odd lighting.
7. Scary movies or happy endings?
There is more than enough fear out and about in the world. And besides, I have not seen a movie since I was a child. Perhaps I should amend that.
8. Any special talents?
Other than being a wizard? I suppose I am a passable dancer. My teacher insisted it was good exercise for staying light on one's feet.
9. Where were you born?
Earth, the local anchor world iteration of it specifically, despite having left young. My early childhood memories are of a rural small town. Pray forgive me not being more specific, but my family still lives there and even if they think I died years ago I would prefer to respect their privacy.
10. What are your hobbies?
Finding relatively secluded natural areas to meditate in is the first thing that comes to mind for such a question, particularly since spending hours in a library pouring over tomes on arcane theory and practice is largely considered part of my profession rather than a hobby, no matter how much I enjoy it.
11. Have you any pets?
No, nor is my preferred practice of magic one that typically incorporates familiars.
12. What sports do you play/have played?
The closest I have ever come to playing sports is the time my teacher signed the two of us up as contestants in a gladiatorial tournament of sorts. She said it would be a good learning experience and practical test of my skills. She was correct, as usual, even if I was eliminated halfway through. Meanwhile she made it to the final bout and I have long suspected that she only lost that because she was holding back for the sake of not upsetting my image of her.
13. How tall are you?
Five feet, six inches. Roughly the same as my teacher. Given how much of a role model she was for me, I suspect the Autogenesis Principle may be as responsible for this a genetics. "What is the Autogenesis Principle?" It is the tendency for the bodies of those exposed to the supernatural - particularly those from anchor worlds who had previously been unaware of its existence - to physically warp and change over time to align with their self-image. That is the simplified version at the least. In practice there can be any number of factors complicating this creation of the self, so that one person might be barely affected while another can undergo exaggerations that border on the monstrous.
14. Favorite subject in school?
I was still in elementary school when I... left home with the woman who would become my teacher, but the memories of reading classes are the ones that I recall most vividly. To her credit though, she did make a point of tutoring me in other subjects I was missing out on more formal education for alongside my magical training.
15. Dream job?
Being a wizard and helping those in need. As I am already doing.
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attourney-at-lycan · 1 year
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Ok, sorry to dump this kind of rant on you, but you're one of the more active Aphmau blogs, and I wanted to hear someone else's opinion on this. Anyway, it’s not a new topic that people are disappointed in MCD’s worldbuilding, but I really wish the idea of religion, or more specifically, different religions, were explored more. I’m kind of rewatching the series really slowly, but if I remember correctly, the religion (the divine warriors) isn't really explored beyond, like, maybe four of the members? And even when we learn stuff about them, it just doesn’t make that much sense? Because the characters in the series treat them as though they were a pantheon, but they're just normal dudes, just some vaguely powerful guys. I want to say they are more like saints or prophets, but they don't answer to or preach about any greater beings; it's Just Them. Did people in the MCD universe just not worship any gods or spirits before these guys showed up?? Do the people of this universe at the very least have some creation myths floating around???
I remember at one point they mention that there's a wolf god, but we know basically nothing about them besides that they cursed a human to become a werewolf. But werewolves in this universe aren’t just ‘people who turn into wolves’ because only some of them have that ability... So why are these Giant Wolf People and "people who turn into wolves" lumped into the same category? Wouldn’t it make more sense if the story was a legend by the Giant Wolf People to scare off humans from hunting wolves? especially since their young still walk on all fours and could be mistaken for a normal wolf from a distance.
 Anyway, back on topic, I think it does make sense that at the beginning of the story a lot of the characters' main religious affiliation is with these "Divine Warriors" since that will be the main religion that the story focuses on, but as the series continued, its world building could have benefited from exploring more religions and cultures. As more characters were introduced, more aspects of the world should have been introduced as well. Even if Jess didn't want to have to create entirely new locations to showcase these various religions and cultures, there are a lot of new characters that come later in the series who had their homes destroyed or that we just never got to see (ex: Aaron, Dante [and by extension, Gene]) who could have talked to Aphmau about this! It would have also added some depth to these characters' backstories and could have even made them more tragic. Like, "Why did Zane destroy Aaron’s village?" Well, we know that O'Khasis wanted to become a monarchy and rule over the entire continent; maybe Zane was in charge of some kind of religious crusade, and that’s why he had Aaron’s entire village killed. Stuff like that could lead to deep moments between Aphmau and some of the other members of the cast as they recount their old homes that they can’t or might not ever be able to return to and how weird everything is now that they don’t have anyone who’s familiar with or shares the same culture and religion as them, bonding with Aphmau because they can finally freely talk to someone about these important aspects of themselves without being judged.
NO HONESTLY THAT’S BOTHERED ME SOOO MUCH. how did the minecraft diaries world come to be? where did it start? what is magic in this world? they dont even have to explain it just give a lazy explanation and say a god or gods created the world.
because how did irene get her relic in the first place? did ppl just not have any faiths? how did they cope w/ death before irene? HOW DO THEY COPE W/ DEATH AFTER IRENE?? sure you can say that technically the nether could be their equivalent of the afterlife or hell but that’s only for guards, so what about everyone else?
though i do wna point out when u mentioned they were just normal dudes- it’s mentioned that there is speculation if irene herself was a goddess or a regular person- when it comes to legends of powerful people, their deeds can be exaggerated as time goes on so some people’s faiths lean towards that they were gods, while some could be skeptical and believe they were just people w/ powers. the audience and the main cast of mcd know the truth, however people like molly (??) and just other regular common dick and stanleys, dont know the whole truth.
unless i understood you wrong then ignore that previous part but Yes. you are right, religion in mcd was not explored enough o(-( i wish it was bc jfc.
the wolf god? honestly i completely forgot everything about werewolves. all i know is that they also praise the moon so there’s that? but i also do not understand the difference between born wolves and bitten werewolves? i guess maybe they’re not seen as pure? maybe not as creations from the wolf god but still yknow seen as one of them? i have no idea how to make sense of it
GODDD I SO WISHED THEY ALSO EXPLORED OUTSIDE OF RU’AN. we did get tu’la and if iirc— in s3, tu’la is a problem w/ the whole taking over o’khasis and shit. but anyway your aaron and zane idea is blowing my mind rn- it could’ve honestly been that? o’khasis’ government is heavily intertwined w/ the church of irene so it would make sense they’d go on crusades.
honestly anon, reading ur ramble made me think of an idea where maybe ppl not praising gods could’ve been an irene thing- i dont think irene’s as benevolent as she’s made out to be because i love gods/dieties/powerful figures who quietly work behind the scenes to tie everything to their goodness- but im just saying. it’s said that irene abolished the monarchy and created the lord system. in what world does she think thats going to work? there’s no way she said “everyone will have their own little towns and certainly everyone will abide by the rules!” then left. she left without putting any sort of authority to keep the lords in check therefore allowing certain lords to pretty much act the same way as kings. they’re still able to take over other villages/towns, literally there was no point in that. she gave the illusion that everything’s changed but she didnt… change shit. in fact she made it worse no? sure lords don’t call themselves kings but it’s just a title? i’m sure some places don’t call themselves that simply because they fear the wrath of irene’s followers or irene herself. the longer she’s gone however, the more unscrupulous people will become like aka o’khasis!!!
anyway i went off topic but what i’m trying to say is, that irene didn’t really help the ppl w/ the monarchy but gave the illusion that she did. what stops her, the most powerful being at the time (i think) from erasing the existence of gods once existing? IM JUST SAYING. it’s just a thought
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dnangelic · 7 months
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@etherose asked: 🕯️To Dark about Furina // send me 🕯️ to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.
' isn't this nice , daisuke ? we get our hands on the art , furina and the rest of fontaine gets its entertainment , practically everyone goes to sleep happy and satisfied ~ ! ' ( i ... don't think that's really how it works . more importantly , we ... well --- ) ' hmm ? what's the matter , daisuke ? spit it out already . ' ( do you ... do you think she has any idea ? about --- me . )
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... right . about the two of them . still the same old dilemma , wasn't it ? what was a ghost without its body ? a phantom thief without its true identity ? or the spotlight of a young god without the lonely , anxious girl cowering under the floorboards beneath ? here they were , two extravagant actors thrust onto a stage whereupon they could never reveal their true faces to one another . even then , this sympathy and gentle consideration : the playful , intimate grin of someone who knew their every line , forever reaching a hand out from across from her in an elegant beckon .
nevermind the truth . can't i still touch your heart ? those fears and worries that might plague you ... i'll steal those away too .
in the various nights that he had reserved for his appearances , had she not forgotten everything while looking forward to him ? staring out of windows into a starry sky freshly reflected in her eyes , lining up guards and mechanisms with all of her mind and all of her might , some part of her nevertheless trusting --- hoping , that once more , he would do as he had always done and evade her capture . her happiness alone had made it obvious . and it was for that reason as well that he had to remain carefully hidden outside of every theatrical heist ; nothing more than an uncommon , nocturnal visitor attached to this city and its justice by the thick ropes and chains of his very own theft . the people could continue clamoring , the audience could continue on with their applause and elevated tensions , and furina herself could be inspired by the likes of a freely cast-off-and-caught hope ...
' ... you could always go on and speak to her in my place , you know . ' unlike myself , you have the right to get closer .
( eh ?! m-me ?! n-no , no way ! we don't have any reason to meet , and --- besides , that's the archon ! what would she think about someone like me ?! i --- i can't compare at all ! )
a snicker . ' good grief . you two are exactly the same , you know ?
( huh ?! what do you mean --- ? )
' ... well , who knows ? don't worry about it . '
( dark --- ! )
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this alone was more than enough . that he could do more than simply steal for himself . the god of justice meant to rule over clear and innocent waters should have continued to do so . your tears aren't suited to mingle with the seas and turn them bitter . even if dark himself could offer nothing more than the occasional performance , the shared song and dance between themselves in tandem with every brief , fleeting word ... the various memories of themselves were still clear and filled with warmth and fondness enough to draw out a smile . it's thus he can't help but wonder : miss , don't you feel the same way ?
reaching out to others in a mere dream , though no longer an entirely unpleasant one .
' ... we're all looking forward to your next show , focalors . '
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gayvillainera · 1 year
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Prompt: Danny/Rebecca: “You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” Also, I adore your fic! Can't wait for more!
Anon, thank you so much for this prompt!! Also I promise the next chapter is coming soon once I iron out some kinks (ha).
I had so much fun with this and oh no I think it sparked a new fic idea, please enjoy this ~1100 word scene! CW for implications (but nothing graphic) of domestic abuse and consensual light s/m
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 “I wonder what it would be like if Maxim were to die.”
Mrs. Danvers stared at her for a moment, as if to assess whether this was a serious matter for discussion or simply an attempt to elicit a reaction. But Rebecca’s eyes were cast down, studying the blouse in her hands as she ran her fingers over the newly repaired seams. A third option, then: she’d simply had a thought and decided to state it aloud.
“Oh?” She paused to slip a dress onto its hanger. “Does the thought worry you?”
But Rebecca was quiet. She’d had more quiet spells recently, but then, there’d been more incidents as well. First with Major Lacy, then Mr. Crawley’s rather dubious confessions to Mr. de Winter just a few months later. It had been enough to draw a cold fog over the house. Oh, Rebecca had laughed to Danny and tossed her hair. She’d denounced both men as weak, wicked men who would rather feign loyalty to wife or master than admit they’d been willing enough in their flirtations. But Mrs. Danvers could hear what Rebecca didn’t say, the small details she stepped daintily around in their conversations. And besides, the servants saw everything, and talked enough to fill two estates with their gossip.
“How would it happen?”
Rebecca met her gaze steadily, only the smallest hint of a frown between her eyebrows. Something else passed silently between them: Yes, said Rebecca’s eyes, you understand duty and obligation well enough. I’m arriving at such an understanding myself.
“Well, he hardly does anything of interest, so I’m sure it would be something awfully boring,” she replied with a sniff. “No boating accidents or foreign illnesses. And the staff are too devoted for one of them to go mad and simply attack him, nor are any of my lovers jealous enough to do the same.” At this, she considered Danny’s face, cast a casual glance over the strength of her arms, her hands. Danny watched her do it. “I’ve set their expectations too well, I suppose.”
Mrs. Danvers turned back to the laundry basket. “We train our staff too well to make the sort of terrible mistake that might cause someone to fall seriously ill or become injured. Unless, of course, we hired someone young and naïve, and what a terrible guilt they’d have to carry if such a thing did happen.”
Rebecca grunted softly. “Yes, that’s true. He hunts, he attends whichever balls and dinners and races he can’t squirm his way out of. Nothing there.” She ran her fingers over the fresh stitches again, so small and neat you’d never see them if you didn’t know they’d been put there, if you hadn’t seen the tear they’d drawn together and erased.
“But he does have such a terrible temper, you know. Not in front of the rest of them, but. Well.” She gave a terrible, soft laugh and Mrs. Danvers had to restrain herself from rushing over to her at the sound. Whether to sooth or to offer up a reservoir to store the anger that simmered under that laugh, even she wasn’t sure, but either way she held herself stiff and still and only quirked an eyebrow at her. “Anyway, they say men with tempers often have such weak hearts after all. They can work themselves up into a fit of rage so violent that their hearts can’t take it and they stop working altogether. Sometimes. I suppose there’s that, then.”
She brought a hand up to brush at the spot on her upper arm where he’d grabbed her. There was only a faint green mark there now, but it was the first one he’d given her, and so it would be forever in her mind even as it faded from her body.
Mrs. Danvers’ jaw ached, and suddenly she couldn’t keep up the pretense any longer. “It’s a pity you’d have to wait for such a chance to occur, then.”
Rebecca’s head snapped up, and she took in the trapped-animal tension in Danny’s body: the hunch of her shoulders, the skirt fisted in her hands, the wide-eyed defiance on her face, so properly terrified now that she’d quit their little game.
Usually, Rebecca liked to play a game out until she’d won or she was bored. But here was something more interesting, with a tantalizing possibility at its end.
She stood, took two slow steps towards Danny, hands out, as if she was approaching a skittish horse. “Go on.”
Slowly, her shoulders came down. Her eyes widened just a fraction further.
“There couldn’t be any accidents. No questions. I could take care of it, but you would have to play it perfectly. No cause for concern.”
“You’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” To soften the accusation, Rebecca reached out and smoothed Danny’s hands, dropped the skirt back into the basket and tucked her own fingers into Danny’s fists.
“Yes.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.” Their hands tightened with every word until they stood white-knuckled, clasping each other.
“Then you’d need to be perfect too. If I’m to lose him, I can’t lose you. There’s no romance in dying, you know.”
Danny stared into her eyes and drew their hands up until they were loosely draped around her neck. How many times had they been posed like this, Danny gasping Go on, do it, you won’t hurt me, Rebecca gnashing and groaning in response until at last she collapsed in sobs, in a moment safely gathered in Danny’s arms, stroked and shushed and murmured at until at last all of the anger he’d given her was gone, until at last she would peer up at Danny and ask if she was all right, too, and things were set right again?
No romance in dying, but intimacy in violence – a bond in shelter, in willingness to take and give, in mending rather than discarding. They never spoke of it except in this way, in the glances they’d long learned to decipher.
“I have always been exceptional at my job, Rebecca. Perfection will not be difficult.” Her throat vibrated with the words. Rebecca pressed her thumbs ever so slightly into Danny’s skin to meet them.
“Of course it won’t be. Not for you. I should have expected you’d… Of course.” She smiled shyly up at Danny. “I always knew I’d only let a man hit me once. But I should’ve known you wouldn’t let him do it again either.”
Mrs. Danvers stroked Rebecca’s hair with one hand. “I am ever in your service, Madam.”
“Manage this, Danny,” she replied, placing a kiss on her knuckles, “and I will be ever in your debt. Now, don’t tell me one thing more, unless you need me to play some part in it. And soon we’ll be free.”
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magicstar16 · 1 year
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High guardian spice rewrite: The Transgender scene
(Inside Caraway’s office, we Professor Caraway sitting at his desk, with Rosemary sitting across from him, looking slightly downtrodden)
Caraway: So, I heard you’ve been having some trouble in class?
Rosemary: Yeah… am I gonna get kicked out?
Caraway: No, of course not! It’s your first day, I wouldn’t kick someone out just because they’re struggling, what gave you that idea?
Rosemary:… The triad. Specifically the old one
Caraway: (Under his breath, slightly annoyed) oh, of course she did.
Rosemary: I mean, im supposed to be the Daughter of THE Lavender! If I can’t even pass where she excelled, then…
Caraway: Rosemary, look at me.
(Rosemary looks up at Caraway)
Caraway: You’re not perfect. And that’s okay.
Rosemary: but-
Caraway: Your mom wasn’t perfect either. Besides the bar isn’t as high as you think it is. Would you like to hear the story about how she almost accidentally killed me?
Rosemary: (Shocked, with her Pigtails puffing up in distress) She WHAT?!
Caraway: Don’t worry it’s not as bad as you think it is.
(Rosemary relaxes a little, but keeps her focus onto Caraway)
Caraway: Okay, so for context, do you know what “Transgender” means?
Rosemary: uhhhhh, I think I do? It’s where you feel like you’re the opposite gender your born with, right?
Caraway: that’s a basic way to put it yes.
Rosemary: But what does that have to do with my mom almost killing you?
Caraway: I’m getting to that. So here’s what happened…
(We fade into a flashback with Lavender and mid- transition Caraway, as High Guardian Academy students. caraway is looking over a long list of spells, almost all of them are crossed out).
Caraway: (Voiceover) It was when I was still transitioning, since this was before transformation magic started being applied for body modification and not shapeshifting.
(We see young Caraway casting some sort of spell near his chest, with Lavender watching intently. Caraway’s wand starts glowing. Lavender and caraway start looking hopeful)
Caraway: (voiceover) Lavender and I were trying to see if I could use a spell to get rid of my breasts.
(We see a burst of magic flame on the wand, Lavender and Caraway jump back and panic, while the wand spazzes out, shooting out sparks like an unstable sparkler).
Caraway: (Voiceover) However, nothing seemed to work.
(Young caraway gets up, frustratedly brushes himself off, and crosses out the last spell on the list. He sighs, Lavender goes over and puts her hand on his shoulder for comfort).
Caraway: (voiceover) I was so close to giving up, I thought the body I always wanted would always just be out of reach. That id have to stay in such uncomfortable skin forever.
(Lavender perks up. She grabs Caraway by the arm and excitedly drags him away from the magic materials)
Caraway: (Voiceover) but then your mom got an idea.
(We cut to young Caraway lying down half naked in a field, although he’s censored because showing a half naked 14 year old is creepy. He’s lying next to some bandages. We also see Lavender sharpening her sword, eager to carry out her plan.)
Caraway (Voiceover): She thought if Magic couldn’t help, then we’d have to get rid of my breasts “The old fashioned way”.
Rosemary: (Voiceover) I think I can see where this is going.
Caraway: (Voiceover) I could too.
(We see Lavender bend over Caraway, holding her sword slightly above him like a Limbo stick. Caraway looks at the sword, clearly wondering why he agreed to this).
Caraway: (Voiceover) Before I knew it, Lavender drew her sword and…
(We see Lavender Slash the sword, but the impact is blocked out by a black screen with a slash effect and a splash of blood, like something out of a horror movie).
(We then cut to Caraway’s POV. His vision is blurry He looks down, his chest is wrapped in bandages he looks up and we see him dazed)
Caraway: I woke up, bleeding, there was a pain in my chest, i thought for sure I was dead… until…
(We cut to Lavender. Standing in a victorious warrior pose. Cheering. In her hand, she’s holding young Caraway’s now removed tits. Lavender is holding them like the still beating heart of an enemy warrior).
Caraway: maybe it was because my mind was so hazy, but instead of getting angry at lavender at the fact that she could have killed me, I couldn’t help but laugh at the scene before me. She was holding my boobs as if they were the still beating heart of a freshly killed monster).
(Caraway starts laughing along with Lavender, although he starts losing consciousness quickly, Lavender rushes over to him, worried).
(We fade back to present day. Caraway still has an expression of wistful nostalgia on his face. Rosemary has a horror filled WTF expression on her face).
Caraway: I don’t remember much after that since I passed out, but you get my point.
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jeweled-blue-eyes · 2 years
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Favorite derrick x og!Penelope headcanons
it’s a headache to come up with headcanons for them since Derrick is such a difficult character and most of the times I don’t understand him, but okay I will try.
Penelope “liked” Derrick more than Reynold.
MC  fearing Reynold would stab her with a fork or push her out of the window during an argument, suggests to me that violent fights between them were not uncommon. I find the idea that Reynold might have been a tad physically abusive in their childhood not that far off. Back then his pain caused by Yvonne’s disappearance, and his anger over her replacement by Penelope was still fresh and he probably had a worse hold over his emotions due to his young age.
This would cast Derrick automatically in the role of the “better” sibling simply because  he never bothered to interact with Penelope unless forced (like during public events or when she had done something wrong that could embarass their family). And even then he never raised a hand against her. Derrick prides himself as a noble being, someone rational, so he would not resort to physical violence against her. In a sense child! Penelope would have felt “safer” around Derrick than her maids or Reynold. The maids stabbed her with needles, Reynold was unpredictable. But no one would show their ugly sides in front of the Eckart heir.
 What og! Penelope was probably not aware of, is that just like his feelings for her, Derrick’s cruelty is never direct and much more subtile. Someone once said that Derrick killed Penelope the least out of all love interests.  Many things happened to Penelope because Derrick let them happen and didn’t intend to clear up any misunderstandings. I’m inclined to think that he maybe did kill her the least if you were to count a direct kill, but that he contributed to many of her deaths by, for example, witholding crucial information that could have saved her.
If Penelope ever received an education, Derrick would have her schedule memorized and always know when and where she is supposed to be
He is the first to arrive and stop her suicide attempt. He almost, almost looks like her cares when her holds her in his arms and frantically demands her to stay awake. Penny believes she might be hallucinating from blood loss since she has never seen him make that kind of face and she thinks to herself that it would be nice if he could make that face more often before falling unconscious
Derrick does try to avoid Penelope but sometimes when his mind is wandering he finds himself in places where Penelope likes to spend her time, much to his annoyance.
The incident where Penelope fell from the wall and broke her legs, made him realize that he kind of likes the image of her locked up in her room, weak and defenseless and dependent on him. He probably visited her afterwards.
He never apologizes. He always buys her stuff when he feels guilty over something (which he rarely does).
The knights who pushed her off the wall never got punished. I feel like he even would have rewarded them. Not directly. But I can see him buying them new training equitment a month later or so. Such actions probably subconsciously conditioned them to act more antagonistic towards Penelope.
Penelope acted up partly to get his attention. She gets often ignored and more treated like a doll than a human being. Sometimes she feels like she isn’t living at all. It drives her insane and she wants a proof that she is alive and part of their world. She wants to change that expression of him, replace it with something else besides this cold indifference.
we are treading into fanfiction territory: there was a kiss but Penelope either suppressed the memories because of trauma or she was in an altered state of mind (fever, alcohol, drugs).
I also kind of like the hc that it was Penelope who initiated the kiss and Derrick who took advantage of it and then had the gall to shame her for it and make her promise not to tell anyone
I have various ideas how it could have come to a kiss one of them is a drunk kiss: The maids were starving Penelope again and she was searching the mansion for something to eat, finding a bottle of alcohol. She discovers that alcohol no matter how cheap or expensive can drown her pain. On one night the Eckarts were invited to a banquet Penelope had gotten drunk and Derrick was forced to intervene before she could make a fool of herself. On their way home in the carriage she would get emotional and cry. Or she’d straight up flirt with him without recognizing him. She kisses him. The next morning she doesn’t remember. Derrick is understandably angry, but he is always angry at her so she doesn’t necessarily connect his anger to the events of that night.
Older Penelope would tend to self-medicate to handle the symptoms of her depression and seek temporary and instant relief provided by alcohol, cannabis, coca, mescal, morphine and heroin or various other mind-altering substances. Derrick wouldn’t like that at all until he realizes that if he gives her her rare and expensive drugs and she gets addicted to them that means she doesn’t escapE
(she does try to kill herself with a drug overdose)
Penelope’s first crush was a kitchen boy who took pity on her and secretly sneaked some food out for her when the times got really hard. Derrick caught them together doing something inappropriate and was absolutely furious. He sentenced the boy to a hundred lashes, burned his recommendation letter and kicked him out on the streets. Penelope was put under house arrest. He’d try to convince her that the boy was just trying to take advantage of her and no one would love her if she didn’t have the Eckart name. Maybe he’d do a slip of the tongue and say something like the men around her are only interested in her because she is pretty, indirectly admitting that he finds her attractive.
not sure if he would infantilize her (”you are just a child and fell for his lies because you were too stupid to realize you got taken advantage of” blablabla) or slut-shame her “this wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t dress in a revealing dress/acted with no class”
there were some men who were interested in Penelope but Derrick destroyed all marriage prospects for her. I wouldn’t say he’d spread rumors about her but he did nothing to stop bad rumorse from circulating. If he knew those men he would discourage them from this foolish idea and instead suggest a more suitable lady. If someone would make a move to ask her for a dance they’d feel a shiver running down their spine and Derrick’s judgemental gaze burning into their back.
this hc has zero canonical support but I do like the idea of Penelope sleeping around and doing drugs. It would fit with her villainess aesthetic and is an understandable trauma response.
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starblue2406 · 1 year
Text
Now with the Disney live action boom which are announced every three days , the Harry Potter remake and the FNAF film that already has almost confirmed .Lately I've thought "If a love actions of my fic were made, what would be the cast of actors?".
I've been thinking about this during the showers! So here I leave my cast list of my imaginary live action cast of my fanfic XD: love actions cringe was made from my fic XD:
Attention: I don't know many actors, I prefer to see things in animated format, so forgive me if many appear in the same work or are very generic and predictable xd
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Andrew Garfield: Damos Gaspar.
I know Andrew doesn't stick around to make the canonical Damos, but for my fic's version I think it's fine, after all in my fic he's a 24 year old guy and the way I draw him I try to favor that point of my fic.
I think Andrew without any problem can play the young priest who at the beginning is an optimistic young man with his destiny and little by little he discovers that the reality that he has believed all his life is more complicated than it seemed, besides that despite being a good guy he has his shades of gray.
I also like to imagine the interpretation he would make in the funny moments with Pili and the tense moments that will be quite drastic, if I can call them that.
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Chris Evans: Arceus
As I said, I don't know much about actors, but in the hypothetical case that this live action had been done about 5 years ago, I would have chosen this guy for Arceus. Now not so much or maybe yes?... It's complicated, it's that Chris already notices the change weather after end game xd
But let's imagine that we have in front of Chris from about 5 years ago, so without a doubt he has the role for our llama perfectionist.
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Ryan Gosling: Argique
The same as Chris, but if I give him a chance, he currently doesn't look so bad to try the kaloshiny.
Can you imagine Ryan playing Argique eating? It would be historic because of how funny it would be.
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Tom Hiddleston: Marcus Koroterna
This would undoubtedly be our beloved emperor. With the great interpretation of him to Loki,he already has experience with characters who are charismatic villains. Also, just look at it! The wardrobe would be perfect! Not even Marcus's weird hairstyle could ruin that!
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Jenn Murray: Acomfire
The same as with Tom Hiddleston. The character is made for her!I was literally based on Gerda from the movie Maleficent 2, for its great design and redesign. So I think she is the one, in addition to her, her fixed and penetrating gaze will transmit to the viewer that it's not a good idea to mess with the Emperor, because he has someone dangerous behind him.
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Emma Watson:Olga Koroterna (young age), Ava Gaspar or Martha
Any of those three would suit you.
She could play Olga when flashbacks are shown of her when she was a young princess, with big dreams and determination to be a good girl.empress for her people.
Also the great Ava Gaspar, that restless woman who sought more land than the horizon showed her with great kindness and love towards her friends and loved ones, from the only Pokémon trainers of the dynasty and the great guide of our little Heatran.Can you imagine Emma in Ava's uniform? She would look amazing!!!
A character like Martha would also suit her well, after seeing her participation in the Beauty and the Beast live action and now that I have accommodated Martha's presence and role in the story, Martha would definitely suit her well! Now with Martha's new changes, they make her a candidate for the honor of being played by Emma. Pretty good for a character I owe a lot xD
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Elizabeth Debicki: Olga Koroterna
What better role of an empress for someone who played the queen of the people?That's how it is! I speak of Elizabeth Debicki,who previously performed for the dearest Princess Diana. I haven't seen ALL of The crown, but for me she is the one to play the dearest Olga/mother-in-law of my friend Elgu xD.Also just watch it here! Olga's short hair and her crown would suit her perfectly!
In addition, she undoubtedly knows how to capture the pain and suffering of a woman in overwhelming situations that little by little destroy her.
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Sarah Jeffery: Kenia Gaspar (young age)
I like the interpretation of this actress, her experience with the character of Audrey in descendants, I think it would help her with the interpretation of Kenya in flashbacks, since let's say that she was...A difficult girl to deal with, especially with Olga... Acomfire already talked a little about it and little by little I leave crumbs of it.
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Michelle pfeiffer: Kenia Gaspar
Currently Kenya has not gone beyond mentions, technically we know nothing about her other than some things she has been involved in.I don't want to make spoilers, but if this actress is here it is because there is a specific role that makes me take her as an immediate candidate, it is a role of a character from a movie mentioned in this post. This character will be relevant later on, whether it is just a cameo, reference, flashback or full appearance is left to your speculation.
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Hunter Doohan: Stephen Koroterna
He has that air of naive, of a good boy, different and familiar with loved ones. The perfect emperor.
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Tom Holland: Pablo Gaspar (young age)
Just look at it! He is without a doubt Mew's apprentice, that innocence and hope for what the future holds fits perfectly in this actor I see this guy using the power to speak to the hearts of Pokémon and with a suitcase in hand to leave his toxic family and go see what fate has in store for him.I see the story of Pablo interpreted by Tom and without a doubt I believe that he is the chosen one of Mew.
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Robert Jack:Pablo Gaspar
After watching his great performance in the series "the last czars", I realize that he is a very good candidate for the first Gaspar of the dynasty.A nice guy, but with problems when it comes to talking about his performance and the acts he did while holding the office that God gave them.
No doubt he is already an expert for that character archetype.
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Luise Wolfram: Alix Koroterna
He already has experience with Alix, I can only say that xD
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Angelique Boyer: Lesly
Oh yes, the great traitor of the archestian religion. The woman who made the pure angel of Arceus fall into pain, anger, disobedience and imperfection for the sake of jewels and a new status. The woman who was once called a heroine, the one who fooled everyone and the girl who is blamed for Arceus being so disappointed with the human race.
No doubt Angelique Boyer is the one for Lesly, she already has experience with sexy bad girls. Just tell you that she acted to be Teresa in the telenovela of the same name(jewel of Mexican telenovelas). Without a doubt I think she is the best of all this cast.
And that's my great cast! There are still many characters missing but I think those are the ones worth talking about for now, also as I said I hardly know any actors so it makes it much more complicated the situation xD.
And you? What do you think of this cast that occurred to me in each shower? Any new option or suggestion? Do you have your imaginary cast for your own story? Show me what's on your mind!
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the11tailed · 2 years
Text
The Deep Summary: “It was supposed to be simple. Go in, test the device, map the area, get out. It wasn’t against any of the Heavenly Principles so despised by Her Majesty. So why has Celestia abandoned them?”
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39010932
Chapter 1: Descent Into Darkness
The Chasm was much more unnerving up close than Anton had previously thought. Of course, he’d heard the stories and been briefed on the location prior to his mission - but hearing about it second-hand and seeing it in person were two completely different things. 
The rocks jutting out from the landscape made him feel impossibly small; the towering stones cast long shadows, plunging the spaces beneath in darkness and reaching towards the group like snaking vines. Anton shivered, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself. Today was the day they would enter the Chasm; he tried not to think too hard about what that would entail. He glanced around at his comrades. Aside from the Ninth Company, a few dozen Millelith soldiers had also been gathered, set on joining them into the depths below. Anton wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that, but he supposed it didn’t really matter as long as they helped them do their job. Despite having bonded in some way with the men from Liyue, most of the Fatui, Anton included, were still somewhat wary of them.
“Antoha, would you quit worrying? I can feel your nerves from here,” hissed the all too familiar voice of Temur. The pyroslinger leaned against one of the many large rock formations surrounding the area, his gun resting at his side.
“I am not worrying, Temur; I am merely going over the things we might encounter down there,” said Anton, his loftiness merely a front.
“I’m so convinced,” Temur replied sarcastically, “Look, there’s 64 of us in the Ninth Company, and we’ve got a few dozen Millelith too; we’ll be fine. Besides, we’re just replacing the Eighth Company, and in a few months, we’ll be relieved by the Tenth.”
Despite Temur’s words, Anton couldn’t help the sense of dread that pooled in his stomach. It hung there like a rock as he swallowed his nerves as best he could. Katarina stood nearby, stress cleaning her lantern with her brother at her side. This operation was the biggest Anton had ever been on, and the stress of that weighed down on him. They would be helping the people of Liyue by combating the powerful, near-abyssal forces of the Chasm, taking the place of the Eighth company so they could recover.
The Eighth had been down there for a while now, and the evidence of exhaustion was stark against their pale faces as they came up to the surface. Many squinted or averted their gaze, as if the weak sunlight filtering through the clouds was too painful. Anton took a calming breath as the signal to enter was given. As he passed by, a member of the Eighth grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.
“Be careful down there, comrade. Trust nothing but yourself, and you might make it out.”
And then he was gone, led to the medical tent for treatment. Anton didn’t know what for. He watched them go until Danila shouted at him to hurry up.
During the descent into the Chasm, Anton had time to think. He had no idea what kinds of things the Eighth saw; all he knew was that their numbers dropped from 68 men to just 45. The thought sent chills down his spine; the Eighth had only traversed the area surrounding the entrance, and they’d lost that many? How many would they lose as they got deeper? His concern must have been evident on his face because someone nudged him gently. He glanced down at the young Millelith soldier beside him. He had short but messy black hair and sharp blue eyes that reminded Anton vaguely of sapphires. His face was round, jaw somewhat sharp, and in the low light, he appeared almost to glow; he looked ethereal. Yanbo. 
Before entering the Chasm, the Fatui sent the 9th to bond with the Millelith they would be working with as a way to increase productivity. Anton and Yanbo had become fast friends, spending nights talking about their homes and interests, sometimes over firewater.
“Overthinking it won’t help, Antoha,” said the man, amusement clear in his tone.
“I know, I know,” Anton responded, somewhat transfixed. “Still, I can’t really help it.”
“We’ll be fine,” Yanbo reassured him, “focusing on the here and now instead of something that hasn’t happened yet will save us unnecessary fear.”
Anton blinked. “Huh, that’s not bad advice.”
Yanbo recoiled in fake shock, placing a hand over his heart. “Why, I’m wounded that you would think so poorly of me.” Grinning up at Anton, he added, “I’ll have you know I give great advice!”
Anton laughed, and Yanbo smiled good-naturedly.
“How do you like Liyue? Never asked you when we were above ground,” he commented as they loaded onto a platform, descending further into the Chasm.
“Very different from the Motherland,” Anton replied, “Liyue is very warm in contrast to the frigid cold of my home.”
Yanbo chuckled, and that brought a smile to Anton’s face. He had a lovely laugh. He backtracked quickly at that thought. Why did he think someone’s laugh was nice? He mentally shook his head to clear his thoughts.
They had a clear-cut mission - enter the Chasm, explore deeper than the Eighth Company had, and test the Mokosh device on the strange crystal in the heart of the Chasm. It seemed so simple on paper, but something always went wrong, be it human error or unpredictable circumstances. 
The platform hit the ground with a dull thunk, and the group disembarked. The platform rose back up to collect the next group as Anton glanced around. The path wrapped around the walls, the middle completely hollowed out. Jagged rocks jutted out from every surface at random intervals, making it difficult to find an even foothold. Anton glanced down and spotted the plethora of tools, crates, and people in the area below. The air was thicker somehow, and he found it hard to breathe. Even something as harmless as the air was already trying to restrict them. Anton knew this mission was going to be hell. 
They walked a small distance from the first platform, descending a flight of stairs to board the next; Anton had to stand at the very edge to prevent his head from hitting the ropes. The wood creaked beneath their feet, and Anton feared the ropes would snap. Thankfully, it didn’t, and they came to a rest on the uneven ground. The group headed to the left and followed the path to the camp. Already, Millieth and Fatui alike bustled around, preparing for the Ninth’s descent into the deepest parts of Chasm. Anton moved off to one side and waited for his crew to arrive. It took a few trips, the larger agents being sent down first, followed by the rest. The platforms could only hold so much weight, so it took a good hour for everyone to get down to the bottom. Once all members of the Ninth company had arrived, their commanding officer gave them a rundown of their tasks. Go down, map the area, fight off anything down there, and test the Mokosh device. In retrospect, it seemed like a massive task for a battalion of only 64. Anton shifted minutely, licking his suddenly dry lips. They would go deeper than any company before them, so Anton had no idea what to expect. The open tunnel in front of them was daunting, like a gaping maw ready to devour them. He couldn’t even see the end of it.
“Good luck,” called Yanbo, as he stood off to the side with a smaller group of Millelith, “Come back in one piece; we’ll drink some firewater together,”
“Thanks, I’d like that,” responded Anton, with a small smile.
Yanbo waved goodbye as Anton turned to join his group into the shadowy depths.
The tunnel was well lit, but everything beyond their path was still so dark that the lamps they had could only illuminate a small area. The wood-boarded floor creaked ominously beneath their boots. The light finally illuminated a wide wooden bridge, stretching for a short way before vanishing into the darkness.
“We don’t know if this will hold all our weight, sir,” one of the pyroslingers voiced, uncertainty clear in his tone.
“Split into your squads,” ordered the CO, “Two at a time. When you get to the other side, flash your light.”
Wordlessly, the agents split off into their groups. Anton stood with Temur, Danila, and Radomir, silently waiting to be called up. The longer they waited, the more Anton’s nerves grew; unease took up residence in his stomach. Anton took a deep breath as his group was called forward. The wood creaked as they walked across the bridge. Against his better judgment, Anton glanced downwards over the ropes; the ground wasn’t even visible. It was like they were walking over an ocean of shadows. He shuddered as a cold, harsh breeze blew across them, but they made it with no problems. 
It took another hour for everyone to cross the bridge, moving slowly and in small groups for fear of the already fragile boards giving out beneath them. When they emerged from the tunnel, Anton got his first glimpse at the deeper parts of the mines. It was almost entirely plunged in complete darkness, tiny lights dotting the pitch-black landscape. Some areas were brightly illuminated, allowing Anton to gaze at the landscape of the Chasm, which looked like it would be a nightmare to traverse. Anton sighed to himself. This was going to be fun.
The first few days of the expedition passed without incident. It was the same repetitive schedule; wake up, eat, pack up camp, walk deeper into the Chasm, set up camp, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat. The next morning (was it morning? It was hard to tell the time when they were this far underground), they had a few encounters with some hilichurls (they lunged out of the darkness, and the pyro agent who had been closest let out a yelp of surprise, blade jerking out and cutting the hillichurl’s head clean in half). They were easy to defeat and caused no significant injuries; in fact, it actually boosted morale as the others certainly got a good laugh at the expense of the very embarrassed pyro agent. Perhaps it was a sign that the mission would be simple and straightforward; everything was going much better than expected. (Maybe he shouldn’t have thought that. Maybe this was Celestia’s punishment for his hubris. Perhaps if he had never thought that, everything would have been okay.)
Things started going downhill on day 11. It was Marka, a pyro slinger, who first swore he saw something moving in the shadows. Upon investigation, they found nothing but a dull wall, a faint imprint in the dirt, the only hint something had been there. Without concrete evidence, they pushed onwards through the darkness. Anton kept close to his squad, trying not to let his anxiety show. Something flicked to his left, and he jerked, gauntlets raised, ready for a fight; but his light shone on empty ground, and he lowered his fists with a sigh. Temur had taken to teasing him for being so jumpy. (Like he was any better - Anton could see his fingers tighten over the trigger of his gun each time he spotted any movement just out of their range of sight or a sound was heard that they couldn’t immediately identify.)
Something danced around them for the entire day cycle, flickering in the shadows like a candle in the breeze. Every agent was on high alert, gripping their weapons so tightly their knuckles were white. Anton took a deep breath to try and calm himself, but it did nothing to soothe the anxiety and fear pooling in his stomach. At some point during their journey, a cicin mage at the very back of the group yelped and whirled around, swearing she felt a hot breath on her neck. Again, nothing was there but empty space.
Soon, exhaustion weighed on the 9th company, and they set up camp beside a small stream. Thankfully, Anton didn’t have the patrol shift this time, so he could get more sleep; he was out almost instantly.
Anton was jolted awake by a yell. He jerked up, blinking rapidly to clear the sleep from his eyes. His turned to see Marka staring hard into the darkness.
“What is it?” called the CO.
“I can see whoever was tailing us; they’re right there!” Marka replied, pointing.
Anton looked, and saw nothing but shadows.
Marka darted away, ignoring the CO’s commands to stay back, and vanished into the dark.
Anton tried not to think about how it almost looked like the shadows swallowed Marka. Despite the open cave they were in, the sound of Marka’s footsteps disappeared almost immediately - but then, he’d always been good at sneaking around. It’s what made him so good at scaring his unwitting coworkers whenever he got bored.
Having all been awoken, the 9th made themselves busy preparing food and taking down the camp. An hour later, Marka still did not return.
“Sir,” called one of the agents, “Should we go after him?”
“We’ll give him some more time,” replied the CO, shaking his head. “Might just be another one of his stupid pranks. He’ll be properly disciplined upon his return.”
Anton couldn’t shake off the worry he felt; it sent chills up his spine. He took a swig from his canteen and tried not to think about Marka.
Another hour passed, and still, there was no sign of the young pyroslinger. The CO sighed deeply in disappointment, declaring that although this was most likely a harmless prank, they should look for him so they could continue with their mission. Anton stood with his squad as the CO pointed out which directions they should split up in when suddenly -
Three shots fired in rapid succession. Marka.
Everyone went silent - no sound but the wind whistling above them and the water flowing in the stream.
They waited. One minute passed, then three. Nothing more was heard.
“...Okay. Change of plans. We stick together and head for where the shots came from.” The CO sounded grim; everyone knew of Marka’s mischievous personality, but even he wouldn’t fire shots where they weren’t necessary - that was the first rule the Fatui drilled into the heads of every agent. The only explanation was that he had run into enemies.
The entire company headed out towards the direction of the shots, all eyes and ears peeled for any sign of Marka. Anton swore he heard the pattering of feet and glanced around wildly, but saw nothing. 
They searched every inch of the cave for the rest of the day cycle. The CO split everyone into groups to explore different areas; one squad found his gun leaning against the cave wall as if he’d simply put it down for a second, but beyond that, there was no sign of the pyroslinger. It was like he had never existed at all. The only indication he had ever even fired the gun was the soft, warm glow of pyro that lit the weapon.
Eventually, the CO commanded them to stop and set up camp. The search would resume the next day, and if there was still no sign of Marka, they were to treat him as MIA and possibly a deserter - though looking around, it didn’t seem like anyone could believe that he would ever do such a thing.
As morning rolled around on day 13 of the expedition, the 9th Company broke camp, neatly packing away tents, bedrolls, and supplies, preparing for one last day of searching.
Anton was stacking tent poles into piles for more accessible transportation when they heard it.
The screams, loud and anguished, as if in great agony, in a voice that was almost certainly Marka’s. Anton’s blood ran cold as the screams were quickly replaced with pleas - for help, for mercy, for someone, anyone, to save him from whatever hell he was experiencing. The agents around him rose, eyes flitting through the dark. Their CO called out into the darkness.
“Marka? Where are you?”
The only response was more pleas. Whispered begs for help, for someone to save him. 
“Split up into squads, six groups of 8, 1 group of 7,” ordered the CO quickly, “Leave no stone unturned,”
“Yessir!” the men said, snapping to attention.
Anton joined up with Katarina, Nikolay, and five other agents. The groups split off into separate directions, the only sign of each the small lamp they carried. The oppressive darkness all too quickly swallowed the light from these lamps. 
Anton shone his light around, searching desperately for any sign of Marka. Katarina clutched her lantern; her cicins fluttered close by, sensing her nervousness. One chirped to her and gently nudged her cheek with its body. 
“What do you think we’ll find?” asked Katarina, glancing around
“Hopefully, Marka alive,” said Anton
“If he isn’t?”
“Then we send his body back up so he can at least be buried in Snezhnaya.”
“And if we don’t find a body?”
“Then we find some way to mourn him.”
Four hours later, they had found nothing, not even a shred of clothing. Hoping the others had more luck, Anton and his group returned to the campsite. Upon arrival, they noted that all squads of eight had returned, but the team of seven had not.
“Did you find anything?” asked the CO, glancing at Anton
“No, sir, not even a scrap of clothing.”
“Dammit,” he hissed, “we’ll wait for the last squad and move on.”
“Yessir,” replied the agents.
Anton chewed his lip, concerned for the safety of that final group; after all, Danila had gone with them. His worry grew as more time passed with no sign of their return. He seemed to be worried a lot these past few weeks. Maybe Temur’s teasing about him being the “mom-agent” held some truth. Anton busied himself in cleaning his weapons. Something told him he would need them.
Too long. It had been too long. The CO ordered they make camp and would wait until the next day before also listing those men as MIA and potential deserters. Anton hated the thought of that. Danila would never desert, which meant something had happened. Had they been attacked? Gotten lost? This section of the Chasm had yet to be mapped, so that option was quite likely. Anton didn’t know which was true, but he hoped the group returned soon. 
The next day came, and the squad did not return. The empty spot they should have filled sent chills down Anton’s spine. With a sigh that betrayed the pain he felt, their CO listed the squad MIA.
“Due to the circumstances, they should not be treated as deserters,” he said. “Most likely they got held up by the creatures that live down here or by the complicated labyrinth. Everyone else, be wary as we continue.”
Temur and Radomir joined him silently. The trio pressed together, huddled together in a corner.
“What do you think happened?” whispered Radomir.
“Maybe whatever got Marka, got Danila and his squad,” hissed Temur
“What got Marka is what we should be asking,” murmured Anton, “Marka’s a prankster, but even he knows where to draw the line,”
“Yeah, this is extreme, even for him,” said Radomir, “That means he either got really lost or ran into some monster.”
“But what?” questioned Temur, “No one knows what even attacked him.”
“We don’t know for sure that he was attacked,” Anton pointed out. “The Chasm’s layout is confusing; hopefully, they just got lost.”
Radomir sighed. “For Danila’s sake, I hope that’s true.”
Anton’s squad was one of those assigned to keep watch that night; he, Temur, Radomir, and a few other members of the expedition sat around the lamps in the middle of the camp, eyes and ears peeled for any anomalies in the cave around them. It was quiet; there wasn’t much to discuss beyond theories of what happened to the eight missing agents. That seemed to be all anyone wanted to talk about. Theories ranged from desertion to having fallen so deep into the Chasm they slipped into the Abyss.
Sometime during the night (about 4 am, according to the timepieces that each agent was issued), a distant rumbling sound was heard. Temur and a few others went off to investigate, returning to report that the sound had originated from a rockslide demolishing the only bridge back up to the surface. This, of course, sent Anton into a spiral of anxious thoughts; it was all he could think about for the rest of the night.
When they informed the CO later that morning, he waved off their concern, declaring that they would continue their mission; after all, there were plenty of Millelith soldiers in the upper levels of the mines.
“The Millelith above will certainly have heard the commotion themselves and will begin working on repairing the exit,” he said confidently. “We should focus on our mission.”
There was a loud chorus of “Yessir”’s as everyone returned to packing up.
“Hey Anton, you doing alright?” questioned Nikolay. “You don’t look too good.”
“I’ll be fine when we find them,” said Anton.
“What’ll you do if we never do?” asked Temur.
“I don’t know; we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he replied, confidence merely a façade.
Anton, of course, was still quite worried - what if the Millelith hadn’t heard? Their camp was fairly close to where they had first descended - Marka’s disappearance had forced them to double back quite a distance and had they been any further down, they almost certainly wouldn’t have heard a thing. What if no one noticed? They would have no way to escape, no one to save them -
No. Remember Yanbo’s advice - overthinking will do no good. Anton took a deep breath to calm himself - they would be fine. The Millelith were on the surface; they did daily patrols, they would notice the destroyed bridge and would immediately set to work fixing it. No point thinking about the what-ifs if they were outrageously untrue, right? He needed to focus on his job; he couldn’t afford to worry about something he couldn’t do anything about.
Anton returned to packing up camp and preparing for the next few days of travel with that reassuring thought in mind. It was a long way down, and Anton was anything but ready. Maybe if the agents had waited a mere few hours, things would have gone differently; perhaps tragedy wouldn’t have struck as violently as it did, but maybe’s wouldn’t bring them back.
Day 12 Of The Expedition
Millelith Chasm Outpost
12 days had passed since the 9th entered the Chasm. Yanbo’s job was the same each day; guard the outpost to prevent thefts and manage the supplies sent to the Fatui. It was quite dull, the only thing to do was chat with the other Millelith. That was the daily routine, until a soldier came hurrying across the Chasm to them, out of breath.
“We have a situation!” he exclaimed
“What happened?” questioned Yanbo
“The Fatui released Osial onto the harbour!” exclaimed the guard, “We’ve been ordered by the Tianquan to detain and hold every Fatui in Liyue until further notice.”
“Understood!” exclaimed the Millelith, straightening up to attention
“What about the ones who went deeper?” asked Yanbo, gazing into the mine entrance
“Leave them,” said the captain, “they won’t be back for another two months. Come on; we’ve got Fatui to round up.”
Reluctantly, Yanbo picked up his spear and followed them out of the Chasm.
 There were very few Fatui outside the Chasm itself, and the ones they did find fled rather quickly. The captain suggested raiding their medical tents, but some Millelith shot that idea down, saying they would be just as bad as them if they attacked a field hospital. 
Yanbo now stood back in the Chasm, having been ordered to transfer the supplies up. A slight pang filled Yanbo’s chest. These agents weren’t the ones who attacked Liyue. They were helping them. Yanbo didn’t understand why these agents were being punished for the actions of their comrades. If his comrades broke the law, he wouldn’t be punished for something that he didn’t do. So why should they? It didn’t make sense. Yanbo gazed at the crate of rations. It was a small amount, something that wouldn’t be missed, and Yanbo had an idea. Yanbo pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill and began to write:
Dear Anton Melnikov…
Yanbo left the note on the table, using a stone to hold it down. He glanced once more at the entrance to the deeper parts of the Chasm. He hoped they would be okay. 
“We were supposed to drink firewater together again,” he whispered.
Why did it feel like his heart was in a million pieces? Yanbo turned and walked back to the lift, trying to ignore how this whole ordeal made him feel. 
He arrived just as the Tianquan did. Confusion filled his features, and he made his way over to his captain. 
“Why is the Tianquan here?” asked Yanbo
“To seal the Chasm,” his captain replied.
“Seal it? What about the Fatui that are still down there?”
“Who cares? They tried to drown Liyue,” was the only reply he received.
The Tianquan finished her work, and the seal slammed down over the chasm.
But they had nothing to do with it… was Yanbo’s only thought.
Meanwhile, deep in the mine entrance, a thundering crash shook the entire tunnel. Rubble rained onto the fragile bridge, taking it down in an instant. After a few seconds, everything stilled, and the bridge was in total ruin. The Fatui agents were trapped on the other side. 
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fleetingwxrds · 1 year
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The Mage and the Knight
That man entered their lives not long ago but already seemed to make a change for them. Rielle has begun to be more optimistic towards her future, now that the girl’s bonds with the past were broken and she had a mentor to help her grow as a conjurer and learn how to take care of herself. 
As for Sidurgu, the two of them seemed to be getting along well and enjoying their time together. And that was good enough.
“It’s not like when Fray taught me, Tairin sometimes isn’t very good at explaining but he tries his best, and he is really sweet to me,” said with a smile - something so rare for the girl. Then continued her meal. “Is that so?” Sidurgu rested his face on his hand and looked at nowhere in particular, a little lost in his thoughts.
Despite being happy for Rielle, there was a strange feeling inside him that had been bothering for a while. It wasn’t something negative as he also enjoyed the mage’s company and their conversation always seemed to take a weight off Sidurgu’s shoulders. Besides, Tairin proved to be anything but naive to the cruelty of the world, being gentle to it while at the same time he didn't hide his frustrations with a mask of hypocrisy or so. But… Recently Sidurgu had been enjoying watching him mentoring Rielle a way too much. How graceful he casted his magicks while still having the strong built of an Au ra man… An attractive combination of grace and ruthless. Sidurgu knew he shouldn’t have been paying much attention to the man’s looks and traits but it would be stupid to deny he did. And the more he thought about the reason behind it, the more worried he would be. A mix of not wanting to deny his heart’s desire and yet reason told it was better if he did so. But by the gods, everytime he tried to deny these feelings he would hear the moogles singing again in his head and that was too annoying.
“What’s wrong? You’ve been strangely quiet,”  Rielle frowned“tis nothing. Finish your meal, you have to recover your energies,” the reply didn’t satisfy the girl that immediately put the fork down and stopped eating, drawning Sidurgu’s attention to her“you don’t like him, do you? You are always frowning at him and never stay with us for too long, always watching from afar. The other day Tairin seemed really upset and said he thinks you only 'tolerates’ him…” Sidurgu’s eyes opened wide, was that the impression he was giving to the them? Rielle continued“he is really trying to reach you, maybe at first he wanted to get closer because he felt related to yout story. You should know already how he felt alone for years because he is so far away from your homeland. And I know too well the people of Ishagrd misjudge you two even now, and he probably wanted someone who would understand him around… But now… He genuinely wants to be you friend, I think.”
“That’s nonsense! You know pretty well I was just being myself, what’s all that about tolerating him?” His voice sounded annoyed, angry even - but at himself. The mage was one of the few people Sidurgu really enjoyed the company, that should be obvious by now! Rielle frowned, why Sidurgu had to be stubborn like that?“If that’s not true you should say something”. The Au ra grumbled and looked away, Rielle resumed her meal, and from that moment on, both stood quiet.
✖✖✖
“The Churning Mists?” Rielle tilted her head as her master explained where their trainment would take place.“Yes, the atherial balance there gets unstable from time to time, I think it would be perfect for you to test your aether control! And the moogles agreed to help too”. The young elezen simply nodded in response, there was no use questioning her master after all, but that was a nice change of pace in their trainment that usually took place in the cold Coerthas. Sidurgu, on the other hand, seemed clearly bothered by that idea“wasn’t there any other place?” Sidurgu said and then… silence. Usually Tairin would politely reply to Sidurgu’s grumpy statements but that day he frowned and said coldly “you can stay here. Is not like we need you to come. And it’s not like you actually need to protect Rielle, right? She doesn’t like when you… Well, nevermind.” It was also the first time Tairin suggested for Sidurgu to stay in Ishgard instead and that reaction caught both Xaela and Elezen of guard. 
Rielle seemed to be slightly worried too. “I’ll go. I swore to protect her and I also want to watch her imporoving her abilities.” Tairin said nothing else, just shrugging and rolling his eyes while Rielle glared at the knight, Sidurgu was using her as an excuse for his own personal matters again and no one there was fool enough to still fall for that. 
✖✖✖
Five moogles were laying down in the floor, dizzy from that last rock that flew on them. Rielle’s progress at casting earth and wind spells was excelent and now she even managed to catch the little creatures off guard and overcome them in battle. One of them twirled in the air before falling into the ground seeing stars, Tairin could clearly hear Sidurgus snort and chuckle coming from behind him. The Warrior of Light looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the scene. Sidurgu looks so…adorable, when not wearing that grumpy face - he thought, and that made his heart skip a beat.
“Great progress Rielle! I bet Fray is proud of you, and so am I!” He smiled and stroke the little girl’s hair, she looked awkward with the gestured but it wasn’t that bad.“Let’s take a break now, I brought some apples for us”.And when he meant us it also included the moogles who recovered so fast that killed Sidurgu’s happiness to see them knocked out. 
“Thank you so much for the help today” the mage said as offering them their reward“aah you’re really gentle Tairin!” Said Mogupo "yeah! Unlike the other one. I still don’t understand what you saw in him" continued Mogban “that’s none of our bussines anyway!” concluded Mogmog, that seemed slightly worried with what the others said. Tairin blinked, feeling a light heat in his cheeks and prayed it wouldn’t be noticed, Sidurgu frowned “none of your business indeed! And if Tairin has anything to complain he should just tell me.”  Yes, now the other would get it that they needed to talk, or so Sidurgu hoped. 
But the Warior of Light turned on his heals and started to walk away without saind a word. That was too much. So Sidurgu knew something was wrong between them, or so it seemed. And Tairin has been hurt about this situation for too long to confront the other, not having the courage to. 
“Tairin? Wha… What are you doing?” the other man said puzzled before following Tairin. For a momment Sidurgu lost the sight of him, but as soon as he spoted the other Xalea under a tree he ran to him, slowing his pace and walking at the end to not seem desperate somehow.“Why did you follow me?” Tairin said with a indiferent voice, looking at the ground pretending to be distracted with something else when in fact he was struggling to not look up at the other. “You left so suddenly, you have never done that before.” 
"No. Not with you two” Tairin had this bad habit of walking away if something bothered him just to avoid conflict - which wasn’t really effective this time, was it? - but Sidurugu was right regarding that he hadn’t done that before with those two, despite everything he never felt like he needed to run away like this.“Why are you acting like this?” asked the kinght“I don’t know,” a lie obviously. Sidurgu sighed“I’ll changed my question then. What did I do to let you like this?”
“I should be the one asking that,” it seemed there was no more running away from the matter, if Tairin was waiting a sign for them to discuss about their relationship, that was the time “look, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just thought… That at this point we would be past being strangers. If I’ve done anything that bothered you, I appologise. And if you feel uncomfortable around me for some reason we… We don’t have to pretend to get along or… something…” it was like he had glass in his throath while saying that. It was necessary but that was the last thing he wanted to say. “I… I will be honest. I really wish we had gotten closer though.”
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“What is this…”
“Just take it” Sidurgu was damn terrible at expressing his feelings and it wasn’t going to change from night to day like that. But he hopped a gesture like that, pure and gentle, the completly opposite of the knight, would be enought to express how Sidurgu trully felt towards Tairin.
The mage took the flower in his hands without asking too much. Still a confused look in his face. The other got up and started walking back to where Rielle and the moogles were. He stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder “you completly misunderstood my feelings. This flower is my feelings.”
On the other hand Tairin would need some time to finally understand what Sidurgu meant, but at least it was like those bad thoughts were ripped out of him by the gesture. His fingers wrapped gently around the flower, which he would keep alive with his aether and take care of it as a treasure.
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