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#rio speaks into the void
mollysunder · 5 months
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I feel like we don't talk enough about the weird ways Viktor's future in Zaun is foreshadowed. When you mix every instance together it creates this weird mixture of heartbreak and terror.
For example, in the flashback when Viktor first meets Singed the entrance Viktor came through has a relief that looks like a shrouded figure. Personally, it reminds me of Huck post-timeskip.
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In post timeskip Zaun there's a greenhouse called "The Herald's Palace" based on the sign that's framed with blue swirls similar to Jinx's tattoos, and it's being guarded by men wearing masks similar to the Machine Herald. The guards are even given long clubs reminiscent to the Herald's staff.
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When Viktor visits Singed to share his research, when he looks into the container holding Rio, Viktor’s reflection in the fluid and glass makes him appear in better health compared to now. (Chemtech, the answer to filters in a pre-instagram world)
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In the same scene, the silhouette of Rio's body vaguely resembles the outline of the Machine Herald's mask that appeared in the tarot card scene. The stand that frames the shot even resembles the Machine Herald's staff.
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Speaking of the tarot card, in Viktor's "the Magician" card, the figure is holding an object that could be the hexcore. What's more interesting is that within that hexcore-like object is Jinx's champion teaser tag, it was just turned sideways to resemble the math symbol fish, ∝, though sideways it still makes Jinx's "X". On top of that both tarot cards are initialed with a "VJ", like Viktor and Jinx.
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This is just a quick rundown because there's a bunch of the cosmic Void imagery that gets crossed with the human biology that will take longer to get into. It's just interesting how Viktor's story, which initially stood alone in Zaun and was largely influenced by Piltover is now becoming more entagled into the stories of Zaun's more influential champions, Singed and Jinx.
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itsmebytch001 · 8 months
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A Motherless Child:
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Finally, FINALLY the custody battel had ended between Aaron and Diana, having had battled it out in the family court for 7 whole years Aaron finally had majority custody, Monday to Friday and all holidays, all he had to compremise was weekends, and though he wasn't happy about it, he'd take it gracefully.
Until he actually had to give you up to her come Friday evening, Aaron would walk you to the designated deli where your Mom would pick you up around 17:00, he would buy you a snack before hand, usually something toffee like and wait with you until she showed up. Sometimes Aaron hoped she wouldn't turn up, so he could take you back home, but she was always spot on time, he would give you a goodbye hug and wave you off as Diana would whisk you off round the corner, and as you dissapeared, Aaron wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now, you were gone and since you were the focal point of his life he just didn't know what to do with himself, so he went over to his brothers place.
Being welcomed in by Rio as Miles ran up to him hugging his legs, both Jeff and Rio gave him a sympathetic look.
Miles: "Uncle Aaron Where's Y/n?" Miles, being 7 didn't fully understand what was happening, he looked around for you expecting you to be somewhere round here if Uncle Aaron was you shouldn't be far behind.
Aaron: "Ah, well Miles she's at her Mommy's place"
Miles: "Oh, well is she coming?"
Aaron: "No Miles"
Miles: "Why?"
Aaron: "Because she just isn't Miles" Even Miles at 7 can tell this is a sore subject, He lightly pushed Miles off his legs as he let go, Rio began to make tea for the family while Aaron sat down next to Jeff.
Jeff: "How did it go?"
Aaron: "Nothing much, I just left her with Diana who took her off"
Jeff: "You know this was the best possible scenario that could have happened, they never give Dad's full custody"
Rio: "Yes, this is a win, you get her week days and holidays! I was truly suprised they gave you both!" She said as she handed him a cup of tea.
Aaron: "I don't even know why she bothered with custody at all, it's obvious she dosen't care, why waste all her time and money in court if she's not even engaging with her outside the courtroom"
Jeff: " A girl needs her mother Aaron"
Aaron: "Y/n didn't even know who she was at one point, that's how little Diana talks to her own child! she thought Rio was her Mom as a toddler!"
Rio: "Lets just be happy that you got majority M'kay? Now drink your tea it's camomile!"
Aaron knew he should be grateful for majority, but he still felt cheated.
But Aaron had also noticed a shift in your behaviour, Once he picked you from the designated deli you were reluctant to speak, snappy, hated being touched and seemed to always be on the edge of tears. He tried to pry what ever was upsetting you out, but you would just go mute on him, when he tried to hug you, you tensed and pushed him away.
Come Monday once he had dragged you to school and waved you goodbye Miles tried to approach you only for you to ignore him completly, he was confused of course and since you two were in the same class he kept trying to get your attention, poking you, handing you notes that you would rip up, waving in your face to try and make you look at him, the teachers also picked up that you were disengaged with class, staring into the void and rude when forced to speak.
Miles was worried about you, and tried talking to his parents about it.
Miles: "Ma, I think Y/ns mad at me"
Rio: "What do you mean baby?"
Miles: "She won't talk to me, like at all she just ignores me"
Rio: "Oh...Well, Miles Y/n is going through allot right now, she's probably not upset at you, she's just not in a good place"
And it's not like Aaron hadn't noticed this shift, you were being sassy with him, refusing to eat your vegtables, running off while out and about, breaking your toys, and sometimes at night he could hear you crying under your bedsheets.
Aaron stood outside your door, this was the 3rd day in a row where he had been awakend by the soft sound of you crying under the sheets, he slowly opened the door to your room and sat on the bed, as soon as you felt the bed shift you wiped your face on the sheets, your Dad placed a hand on your arm from above the sheets.
Aaron: "baby, what's wrong"
Y/n: "Go away"
Aaron: "Come on now" He tired to lift the sheets from your head, only for you to shove them back over your head.
Y/n: "please go away"
Aaron: "Auntie Rio told me you aren't talking to Miles at school, did he make you upset?"
Y/n: "No, I just don't want to talk to anyone right now"
Aaron: "Whatever's making you upest, you'll feel better once you talk about it"
Y/n: "Please go away papa" And so he did, clearly he wasn't going to get answers right now.
This cycle only got worse after the upcoming 3 weeks, you became more aggressive, more tearful and less and less engaged with school, and it all came to a head on Tuesday, when Miles finally confronted you on the play ground.
Miles: "Y/n!" He yelled at you, you ignored him.
Miles: "Y/n! I know you can hear me"
Y/n: "Go away Miles I want to be alone"
Miles: "Why won't you talk to me? Did I do something wrong?"
Y/n: "Go away"
Miles: "No! Not until you tell me what's wrong!"
Y/n: "GO AWAY" and in a moment of rage, you punched him.
oh no oh no oh no you thought.
He held his face crying with his red nose.
Needless to say the whole family was livid with you, luckily since you were related the school agreed to step out of it as long as the family dealt with it, So your father Aaron drove you over to the Morales house hold humilated by your behaviour, you hadn't caused Miles any serious harm, just crushed his feelings.
Once you arrived at the Morales house hold you where sat down in a wooden chair while the family sat around in front of you boxing you in on the sofa, they were detirmend to get answers out of you, all except Miles who really didn't want to see you right now, so he stayed in his room.
Jeff: "Y/n we need to understand why you hit Miles"
Rio: "In the face, might I add"
...
Aaron: "Y/n, you are old enough to understand you cannot just hit people whenever you feel like it"
Y/n:" Ins't that what you do?"
Aaron: "Y/n, you are no position to give me lip, and when I hit people it's called boxing, what you did to Miles was uncalled for"
Y/n: "I don't care" so say meekly
Jeff: "You don't care? That is so disrespectful how could you say that?!"
Aaron: "Y/n if you don't apologise right now, I'm taking your dolls and giving them to good will"
Y/n: "no please!
Aaron: "So apologise"
Y/n: "...no"
Aaron: "I will, all your Winx dolls or whatever, all going away to goodwill"
Y/n: "okay" you whisper.
Rio could see whatever is going on is deeper than whatever your letting on, and being gruled on by the men in the family wasn't helping, so she took you outside onto the rooftop to have a seprate coverstation with you, she sat you down in the greenhouse for a girls chat.
Rio: "Y/n...I know your struggling right now, but you can never just hit someone just because your mad at them"
Y/n: "Are you mad at me?"
Rio: "Well I'm not happy with you hitting my boy, but I just want to know why?"
Y/n: "I don't know why, I just got mad and wanted him to leave me alone so...I hit him"
Rio: "He was pestering you because he worries about you Y/n, we all do, your acting out and no one knows why"
...
Rio: "Is it something about your Mama?"
Y/n: "no..."
Rio: "Then what is it? Because it's clearly upsetting you and whatever it is I'm sure we can help, come on baby"
Y/n: "Sometimes..."
Rio: "Hmmmm?"
Y/n: "I just don't like being with my Mom, and I don't like going back"
Rio: "Why don't you like being at your Mom's place?"
Y/n: "She never talks to me, she never wants to do anything, sometimes she yells when I talk to her, I don't think she likes me"
Rio: "Oh baby, I'm sure she likes you"
Y/n: "But why won't she look at me?"
Rio: "oh...oh baby I'm sorry" she says as she hold your head as you begin to softly cry into Rio's chest, of course this wasn't an excuse for punching Miles in the face, but it did explain why you had been acting out. Rio of course told Aaron about what you had told her, but know that they were all fresh out of a rough custody battle Aaron wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, go back to court and demand full custody, or accept the great deal he had on majority, what will he do?
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Pt 2 Anyone?
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floof-ghostie · 11 months
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casually leans on wall and hands you a microphone. how was the spiderverse experience i want all the deets (ive already watched it dw about spoilers👍🏾)
Ohhhh Strap in we're gonna be here for a while (Imma do this in point form for this, because so many thoughts, no energy for real paragraphs
Okay the animation. THE ANIMATION MEDIUMS. So many cool methods. I loved the colour changes in Gwen's universe. HOBIE'S ENTIRE THING, THE WAY HE'S ANIMATED OMG
Mumbattan is such a cool city, I love mashing irl cities to make one cool megacity so much it's such a lil fave worldbuilding thing of mine
Pavitr is so great, I love him, idek how to talk about him I just like him a lot. Him and his gf make such a cute pair too!
Also him saying "I don't use product, just coconut oil, prayer, and good genetics". I love him
The chai tea scene. God he's so great
THe character design is amazing and sososososo cool!! I love that we see the characters change (Gwen's hair growing longer and pinker, Miles' growth spurt, Peter B.'s bathrobe, MAYDAY's LIL SPIDER HAT THAT MJ PROLLY MADE FOR HER).
I love Pravitr's costume glowup. Thank you to whoever arranged for that.
Also, Hobie??? His lace coded boots?? His locs??? HIS FUCKING PIERCINGSSS??? HOW HE COMPARED A FUCKING VOID TO CAPITALISM??? Him taking a liking to Mayday, and straight up SHOWING MILES HOW TO GET OUT OF THE FORCE FIELD WITH A LIL SMIRK?!!! I need him. Need his gender. I love his anarchist ass.
His design really calls back to the punk scene in England, and I love the way he reminds me of old newspapers
Speaking of Hobie, holy shit that guy was flirting with Miles. I know what you are (pls Hobie do u like enbies?)
"I hate the AM, I hate the PM (prime minister probably, idk for sure) AND I HATE LABELS" I love you
Daniel Kaluuya, thank you for your service.
Also Hobie and Gwen make such a funny friendship. But I don't ship them.
The themes of growing up, and Miles' parents being worried about Miles and the people he's with...I nearly cried in the theatre, and I don't normally cry during stuff.
You can just tell that black people were making the big decisions for this movie. Aaron and Rio asking Miles why he took the braids out. Jeff and Rio being like "On time means 5 minutes early", I felt so at home watching this movie. I'm not even from Brooklyn but I just felt so at home at all the interactions Miles had with his neighbors. Even the random storeowner.
Like ppl were speaking aave, using patois, Hobie's accent. And none of that was played for laughs (except for Hobie's lingo but that's a little different bc he's British)
I love how Miles' Ganke is so different from Peter Parker's Ganke. It's such a fun detail how Miles' Ganke was like "I'm not gonna be your guy in the chair".
I love that despite the general "Canon" for Spider Man, there are some differences! I love those intricate details!
And the way the lady in the office was so hasty to force the narrative of them "struggling" when that really wasn't the case? Hit real close to home. I just love the Davis-Morales family
I love the way that the Spot isn't like a general "mildly bad" villain like I originally assumed. I really thought he'd be kind of a "setup" villain, or something that they'd have to clean up and THEN Miles would take care of Miguel and them.
I especially love the way that The Spot is someone from the first movie, who we don't even know until his backstory is brought up.
His voice is also perfect too. He sounds like a complete loser.
Miguel O'Hara. Meet me outside, I just wanna talk
No For real though, he talks a lot of shit about Miles being "The Original anomaly" when his ass needs to inject himself with some kinda spider-fluid to maintain his powers??? Mind you, he tried to force himself into a reality that wasn't his.
This guy is just an A-class hater. What do you have against Miles, honestly???
On the subject of the Spider Verse I think it's so cool how there were so many callbacks to the original canon of Spiderman! I loved seeing the og live action Spider Men in the film too!
And the easter eggs! I couldn't keep up with them all!
Also, wtf was Childish Gambino there. I mean I'm not mad, I actually found Miles' staring at him really funny
I love Issa Rae's voice! But Jessica, queen, please don't fight, you is PREGNANT
Also idk why but for some reason I thought Jessica and Miguel were married in the beginning. Not completely sure.
Gwen being like "Can you adopt me?" when first meeting Jessica...She's so real
Also Gwen is so sososososo so so trans. It's so great
THE ENDING FUCKING DESTROYED ME ARE YOU KIDDING???? 42-Miles being the Prowler?? I'M NOT OKAY BUT I'M SO EXCITED to see what happens!!
But in all seriousness, all the feelings in the movie talked about and the the things left unresolved for the next movie is just. You can tell this was such a labour of love and all the animators were so happy and excited to work on it. I cannot wait for Beyond the Spider Verse!! I'm still buzzing!!
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annaliessse · 1 year
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Love That Never Fades (Amnesia Event)
So I've finished all four routes in the one of the latest IkePri Event and while reading, I've always wondered what Chev's route will be like. Since the event only features Leon, Licht, Nokto, and Clavis, I decided to make one for our second prince! So here we are, with my first Tumblr fanfiction. Enjoy!
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Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Emma Sommers
No. of Words: 2,400+
It has been a difficult week and Emma was just glad to finally be free of all her problems and lose herself in the familiarity of her books. They tell her she had lost her memories, that an accident caused her to forget the fact that she was the Belle of this kingdom. Subsequently, she was offered a job as a palace librarian. When she woke up, she was greeted by the kind, purple eyes of a man named Sariel. Emma was scared, who wouldn’t be? After all, she woke up in an unfamiliar room, full of unfamiliar faces, telling her an unfamiliar story and convincing her that the tale they speak of was her lost memories.
She would have broken down had she not seen Rio’s smiling face.
Emma sighs, unable to concentrate on the book that was given to her by the young lady who temporarily took her place as the palace librarian. The book she gave her was her favorite too: a tragic tale between lovers from two warring families. She remembered her surprise when the lady gave her the book but she only smiled and walked away.
Emma flips through the pages, distracted but determined to take her mind off her worries. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming through the large windows, the atmosphere in the library suddenly turns cold. When she looks up from her book, she sees a handsome young man with platinum blonde hair and eyes as cold as frost. He wore a gold and white ensemble, his cloak fluttering in the gentle wind coming in from the open windows.
This is who they call Prince Chevalier. A fearful beast. A brutal prince. The man who has done everything in his power for their paths to never meet.
Despite the horrific tales he has heard of him, Emma does not fear. She’s not anxious, nor nervous, rather, she aches. Her heart tugs painfully, a void in her heart making itself clear.
The prince moves towards Emma before sitting beside her, silent the whole time. Emma wants to say something, to talk to him, but she has no words and she only gapes silently at the prince who takes her book and flips it to see the cover.
“Your taste has not changed.”
“I…” Emma stutters. Not many know her favorite books. If Prince Chevalier knows her preferences, she must have been close to him.
“I’m sorry.” She says finally. “I’m afraid I’ve lost my memories, Prince Chevalier.”
He snickers. “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”  
“What?” Emma asks, confused at the prince’s unrelated answer.
“Your favorite line. You said you have lost your memory. I am only reminding you, simpleton.”
Simpleton. The word stirs something in Emma. It is a word one would normally take offense to. Instead, her chest fills with the warmth of something achingly affectionate. Emma looks at Prince Chevalier, gauging his reaction, but he remained as stoic as ever.
“… It is. Prince Chevalier, do we know each other?”
“I am a prince. It is expected that you would know me.”
“Not like that. Like were we acquaintances? Or friends?” Or lovers?
His cold gaze falters a moment, a hint of something strange flashing through his eyes. When he blinks, it’s gone and the prince stands up, leaving almost as quickly as he came.
“Wait!” Emma holds his cloak tightly, the fabric crumpled in her hands.
He does not say anything, but he pauses, and she takes it as a sign for her to continue.
“Help me, Your Highness. I want my memories back and I don’t know what it is, what my mind is telling me, but I know that somehow, you can help me retrieve what I have lost. So please, help me.”
He’s silent for a second before he speaks.
“That is not my problem.” He forcefully tugs his cloak and walks away.
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Despite this, Prince Chevalier’s words do not match his actions. After a few days of ignoring Emma, he came to her voluntarily, wordlessly sitting beside her as she reviews the books Sariel told her to study. Apparently, she was learning proper etiquette and decorum. For what, she does not understand. If she was only a palace librarian, why would it matter that she knows which fork to use, how to hold her teacup properly, or how to not trip herself while dancing?
Emma glances at the prince who was working quietly besides him, reviewing official documents that he had taken with him. She knows that the answer lies in this cold prince.
“Prince Chevalier?”
He does not react, much like last time but Emma continues anyway.
“Why do I need to know these etiquette skills?”
He raises and eyebrow. “Because you are not good at it.”
You think? Emma groans. “I know. But why am I learning this? I am a palace librarian, not a princess or noble lady who attends balls and galas.”
As soon as she says that, a brief memory of large ballrooms bathed in orange glow fills her mind. Men and women were dressed in luxurious fabrics. She remembers the feeling of anxiety, heightened when she sees a gloved hand reach for her.
When she regains her composure, Prince Chevalier watches her silently. She feels like talking to the prince about that flash of memory but when she looks in his eyes, she knew there is no need for explanation. The prince reads her like an open book.
When Emma looks back at her studies, she glances at the prince.
She notices that the gloves worn by the mysterious man in her dreams look eerily similar to the ones Prince Chevalier wore.
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For the next month, Emma and Prince Chevalier fall into a daily routine. During afternoons, Prince Chevalier would come by the library with maids holding stacks of documents. He would sit beside Emma, working quietly and answering her questions with short responses.
This afternoon, Emma is surprised when the prince hands her a book.
“What is this, Your Highness?”
“A romance book.”
Emma smiles, eyes sparkling as she flips the pages of her book. It was a foreign one, something she has never read before and her heart fills with excitement.
“Thank you, Prince Chevalier!” She exclaims.
Emma smiles brightly at him and begins reading the book right away. She has quickly forgotten her daily readings, preferring to read the book Prince Chevalier gave her instead. The prince says nothing, a slight smile the only thing betraying his reaction.
“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
The first line awakens something in Emma and briefly, a flash of a roomful of books fills her mind. She sees hands encircling her waist, platinum blonde strands falling over her shoulders. She feels his hot breath on her neck, his hold on her tight but gentle as she reads this same book in his lap.
As quickly as it comes, the moment goes and Emma is left confused, picking up the pieces of her broken mind. When she looks at Prince Chevalier, now staring intently at her, she knew there is something more between them than what the prince has told her.
“Prince Chevalier… were we, lovers before I lost my memories?”
He says nothing. Then, he lifts Emma in his arms, throwing her over his shoulders.
“Hey! Let me down!”
The prince walks on, ignoring Emma’s protests. He was taking her deeper into the library, where a door lies hidden in the shelves of books. Prince Chevalier opens it and sets her down. When Emma takes a look around, she notices it was the place she has seen in her dreams. Something tugs at her heart and when she sees the prince sit on one of the few chairs in the room, she is certain she was his once. The image looks foreign yet familiar, strange but comforting, and Emma wants nothing more than to remember. Remember how she fell in love with this man who seems so incapable of loving.
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Things change between them after that. As soon as Emma realized the prince was her former lover, he helped her regain her lost memories. He would give her familiar books, books they read together once and when she asks, he would tell her short stories that would bring a flash of a memory in her mind, only to be lost the next second.
As soon as the prince finishes telling her another story, one where he gave her a shelf of books as a Christmas present, she finally crumbles.
“I can’t do this,” she cries, tears falling down her cheeks. “I don’t remember. I can’t. Even if you tell me a hundred stories, I can’t remember, Prince Chevalier. Something tugs at my mind, a brief familiarity but when you tell me these tales… these memories, they seem to belong to another person. Someone that is not me.”
The prince is quiet, staring silently at her. When Emma looks up, she sees his eyes fill with loss, a momentary grief in those cold blue eyes. He says nothing, and stands up.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“I only want to help you.” He says. “I did not realize that my presence was hurting you.”
“You’re not! You are not hurting me. It just feels too much. I remember the warmth of your touch when you hold me. I remember the affection in your eyes when you look at me. I remember the brief glimpses of our love in my mind. I loved you, Prince Chevalier. But I just don’t remember, who you are.”
“Then you do not love me.”
“What?” Emma looks up and for the first time, vulnerability shows clearly in the prince’s blue irises.
“You did not love me for the way I treated you, simpleton. You loved me because you understood. You understood who I was, you saw me as more than a mere beast. If you do not know who I am, then you do not love me now. Maybe you did once, but at this moment, you don’t.”
He looks at her once, then leaves her there, collapsed on the floor and crying her heart out. Once again, Emma wonders how she fell in love with this man in the first place. How she surrendered her heart to him when he treated her this way.
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She does not see the prince a few months after that. He actively avoids her, even when Emma would seek him out. Most of the time, he is not in the palace and Emma yearns for the feeling he gives her, even when she does not remember who he is. She tried asking others too. Sariel. Rio. The other princes. They tell her so much yet so little. They tell her of his cruelty and subsequent change when he met her. She feels even more frustrated after that. She knew there is a large part she is missing. What it is, she does not know.
Later that day, a memorial was held for the knights who had fallen in battle. Every prince was there except for the one cloaked in white. Emma tried to bite down her disappointment, but she felt sad nonetheless that the prince wasn’t there.
She watches the rose petals that fluttered with the gentle breeze. It was quiet, a somber tone in the air. She turns her attention to the large stone wall engraved with the names of every fallen soldier, an ache deep in her chest.
“I wanted to see these names.”
“Remembering the names of those with no value to me is unnecessary, but I make sure to memorize the names of every single person who has worth. Allowing their death to be in vain would be an affront to those who utterly devoted themselves to the kingdom.”
Emma staggers, the memory clear in her head. She remembers the prince, a cold beast she thought saw no value in human life. He was clad in his white cloak as rose petals danced in the air around him. She remembered him kneeling in front of the stone, eyes determined as he remembers every name that died protecting the kingdom.
This. This is why she fell in love with the prince despite his cruelty. Why she felt so happy and proud that she loved him despite everyone telling her stories of his brutality. Emma walks away from the hill where the memorial took place, tears streaming down her face.
She did not love the prince because of his actions and perfection. She loved him for his utter devotion to protecting Rhodolite and its people. She loved him because he cared, even when the world around him thinks otherwise. Emma continues to walk, mind whirring with thoughts and heart filled with confusing ache.
At the bottom of the hill, he saw Prince Chevalier walking towards the memorial just as soon as it has finished. She remembered this too. When she thought the prince did not attend because he didn’t care, only to know that he cared more than anyone else.
She ran towards Prince Chevalier, hugging him tightly, even when he felt his surprise at her force.
“What is this, simpleton?”
“I remember,” she says. “Not everything, of course. But I remember you and why I fell in love with you in the first place. I’m sorry, Prince Chevalier.”
He says nothing but he wraps his arms around her, holding her close to him. Emma sighs happily, content.
“I do not know when all my lost memories will be back, Your Highness. Or if I’ll ever get them back. But I remember you, of your devotion to the kingdom and to your people. And that you have saved me from Obsidian even when it would be so easy for you to leave me behind.”
He chuckles. “That would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
“It would have,” she laughs. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”
Emma looks up at the prince, smiling brightly even as tears rim her eyes.
“I love you, Prince Chevalier.”
His only reply was to hold her cheeks gently in his palms as he kisses her passionately, rose petals decorating the beautiful sky on this beautiful day.
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writingcold · 1 year
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Neapolitan: A Continuance Part 3
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Neapolitan: A Continuance
Part Three
A/N: Hello there.  After the smut, comes the plot.  Violet faces some pretty serious issues in this part.  There is an allusion to a death in this part and how Violet and Jake deal it.  The holidays are starting and brings with it so much fluff.  
Content warning: mentioning of a death, alcohol consumption (duh), pure, unadulterated fluff. 
Word count: 5300 approximately, please excuse errors. The wine gets the better of me at times.
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     The heat was her constant.  Three months and three weeks into her return and her heart hurt.  Jake had been amazing.  While she was not able to contact him every day, he made himself available every time she did get a chance to video call.  She savored the times his brothers were there to talk with her.  He kept them away when she needed only him.  Their calls were filled with whispers of beauty and love and holiday joy to come.  The nights were long without him, even though it was without the anxiousness of her last tour, this time she seemed to be filled with a longing that took Violet no time to identify:  she simply missed Jake.
     News of who her significant other made the rounds.  Violet could not help the flush of interest from her work friends.  She was sure that since his job was so different from their own that it was what spurned the interest.  She was embarrassed that she could not really describe what he did other than being in a band and going around the world.  That yes, he was good, even cuing up her favorites of his songs to bring a smile in the clinic.
     The day had started off the same as every day- hot.  Hot dry wind.  Grit in her hair.  Grit in her face and teeth.  She walked towards the medical buildings only to find that it was silent.  No clattering of work.  No soft chatter.  No sound of shoes against the naked plywood flooring.  The air inside was heavy.  Violet breathed in the sense of dread that hung between the waves of silence.  Rio was the first person she saw walking from in between the opaque netting that had been pulled between the beds.  The woman’s face was blotchy, her eyes ruined as she looked up at Violet.
      She knew the look.  She knew the void that was in the woman’s eyes.  Her heart was already sloshing around when she caught sight of Dr. Wold, his tired features and slow walk towards a patient was immediately shelved when he made eye contact with the pregnant woman who would be his next patient.  She looked to see where Rio had disappeared to, only to find Umar waiting for her.  His warmth reached out to her as his hand closed on her wrist, asking for her to follow.  They walked out the back door, immediately moving to the shade of the patio that they had all worked on to install.
     “Umar?”  she asked, her friend’s hands squeezing her shoulders in a move that was supposed to be comforting. 
     “It’s Lulit, sweetie,”  he said in his deep, melodic tone.  “I’m so sorry.”
     Her brows pinched as his hands smoothed down from her shoulders to her wrists, to interlock with her hands.  There was no shifting, no time to digest.  Tears hit her cheeks as the pain crashed her chest.  The little girl’s smile flitted through her mind and her soul quaked at the loss.  Umar caught her as she buckled, her breath coming in stilted waves.  She had been at Lulit’s side the entire time, ensuring meds and comfort and distraction.  They had sent her to bed the previous night after sitting for nearly 30 hours when the meds were not working to keep the infection at bay.  
     Her whole shift was subdued.  Violet moved like she was walking through sand wearing concrete shoes.  Her heart ached each time she passed what was Lulit’s bed.  She smiled at the other patients, speaking softly, sharing stories and warm touches, but nothing quite stopped the hurt.  
     The evening brought more quiet.  Even the children were still and not playing like they normally would.  The dark pall that hovered over the small village muted the sun bleached homes.  She felt the need to go and lay down and not move.  Pushing into the bunk room, she stripped out of her scrubs and crawled into a soft shirt she had claimed as her own from Jake and shorts and lay down on top of her bunk.  She listened to the soft breathing and snores of those within the room as they slept.  She tried to picture Jake beside her, his breathing in her ear and his skin under the fingertips.  Biting into her lip, she could not stop the tide of emotion that washed over her.  It was the quietest that she had ever cried, nose into the strip of pillow, but the release loosened the pain that had taken residence in her chest.  She stared up at the ceiling, watching the fan turn in slow circles, moving her towards a haze that allowed her brain to rest.  
     Violet was out about an hour before her body lurched up from the bunk.  She looked at her watch.  Jake was in the States, somewhere.  Closing her eyes, she tried to figure what time it would be for him, what part of his day he would reside in.  Her spirit cinched at the notion that while he was on tour, Violet had no clue what his day was like and what he had to do for his work.  Regardless of her ignorance of his actual job, it would be only around noon.  She pictured that he would still be in bed, curled around a pillow, face warmed with sleep and a hard on that would be like stone.  His hair would be wild, flattened and stuck to one side and knotted and messy on the other.  His skin would smell warm, sensual.  His smile would be…
     Her heart began to pound with ache as a new wave of emotions washed over her.  It may not have been the first time she had to deal with the death of a patient, and not the youngest that she had suffered through.  It was the first time she was honestly open with her own emotions.  It was the first time she was honest to herself.  Lulit’s eyes flashed in her memory; the way they would shimmer with radiance and wonder when she interacted with anyone was to be cherished and followed as an example of how one should be no matter how hard life could be.  
     The thought of Jess’ smile as she practically ran over Sam at the wedding; or the way that the youngest Kizska’s face would light up whenever he has a moment to talk about what he knows better than anyone on the planet; the smile that Josh would flash when a thought or a word or two would catch his attention and he’d have to share; or Danny and the quietness that would coax that man’s warmth into the world was precious.  She turned her nose into her pillow once more as the pain of missing her friends that became her family in such a short period of time made her gasp at the breadth of it all.  Then to pile on her dear friends Max and Ollie and John and all the rest that she had known for years - those that filled her, tempered, soothed, comforted and held her together through the worst of her life without knowing what was going on until well after it was done.
     The wisp of a smile that had formed on Jake’s mouth at the wedding when he was talking about his romanticized view of being her grandma’s ‘something good’ blazed through everything.  The way he smiled during the ceremony when he looked at her but thought she did not know.  The way his body betrayed his smile any time she touched him. Her chin quivered as how his eyes filled with tears when she told him goodbye the first tour she left on, and the way his eyes filled with tears once more saying goodbye on the curb of the airport before leaving this time.  He had such a purity of soul that it touched her, despite the distance.   
      All of it whipped her back around to Lulit.  The girl with the undiluted joy that infected everyone around her was gone.  And yet - those around her, those she loved the most reflected the little one in the most tender manners that she could hold dear.  
     She rolled, looking at her watch and catching the time.  She had scheduled video chat time with Jake for the next day - a few more hours.  She could hold her heart together for that time.  Her eyes drifted open to stare up at the ceiling, at the fan that continued its lazy spin, at the netting that seemed to waft on the breeze of the room.  
     Somehow, she had fallen into a dreamless sleep, only to be awoken by her soft chime of an alarm a few hours later.  Violet silently grabbed her clean clothes and headed for the washroom.  The ache in her chest did not feel any better, but at least she could breathe.  Her eyes felt swollen and her mouth felt too dry as she cleaned herself up.  By the time she reached the clinic, she knew that she would have just enough time to get a cup of coffee before she could call out to Jake.  She welcomed a hug from Rio, followed by Umar.
     “Gonna talk to your handsome man this morning, yes?”  Umar sighed as he was pulling charts up on the laptops.
     “Damn right I am.  I’ll tell him you said hello,”  she said with a half smile.
     “Thank you, love,”  he replied without another look.
     Winding her way back to the tiny offices for privacy, she set her steaming cup down before flipping the laptop up and getting ready for her call.  She was sure she looked wrecked, but that did not really matter.  She just needed to see him.  See his smile and hear his voice.
     All cued up, she sat back and waited, coffee in hand, eyes locked to the corner of the screen.  She stared at the spot for so long that her vision began to blur into a thick haze.  When she glanced at her watch, the screen flashed and Jake was before her, a slightly tipsy smile on his face.  Her voice failed her as she melted at the sight of him.  Tears she thought she had rid herself of the night prior struck her face.  His expression immediately shifted into concern.
    “Violet, what happened?”  he asked softly, moving away from where his brothers were crashing around loudly.  “Shit - hold on.”
     “Where the fuck you goin’, Jake?  I wanna talk to-”  Sam’s voice cut out.
     “Shut it, prick,”  Jake yelled back as it seemed like he was escaping the chaos of the shared space.
     She wiped at her face, unable to stop the waterworks that betrayed her.  A nervous laugh bubbled out of her as she noticed that he was carrying her down the hall of their hotel.  He let out a pissed off huff as he struggled with the phone activated lock to his room, ending in an exasperated “fuck” when he thought he lost her connection.
     “I’m here,”  she said, giving up on stopping the overflow of emotions.
     “I’m going to try that again, baby,”  he remarked, pushing his way out to the balcony and lighting up a smoke.  “I”m sorry.  What happened?”
     Violet barely got Lulit’s name out before she had to cover her mouth from unleashing an ugly cry she was sure would bring Umar through the paper thin walls.  When she was able to see past the tears, Jake remained there, fixed to the screen, just watching.  After a few minutes, she dropped her chin, head in hands.
     “Vi, I’m so sorry,”  he whispered loud enough to be soothing, quiet enough to not cause a blow.  “I wish I could be there with you now.”
     She blew out a hard breath, reining herself in.  “Damn it - I did not mean to do this.  I swear, I thought I was done.”
     “It’s okay, just tell me about it.”
     Dragging in a breath, she started slow; explaining that the pretty little girl with a beautiful smile had declined after spiking a fever and infection.  By the end with her words rushed and mushy with emotion, she wrapped her arms around herself and just tried not to bawl.
    “Fuck, Jake, I want one of those,”  she remarked in a huff as he lit up another smoke.
    “This one's for you,”  he smiled before he breathed out a plume of smoke.
    “Okay, pretty boy, distract me.  Tell me all about what’s going on there.”
    He looked dead straight into the screen for a long moment, no expression, no movement except for the smoke wafting at his side.   Violet’s breath caught in a jagged hiccup before her eyes squeezed out a few more tears.
    “This sucks ass,”  he said quietly before taking another drag.  
    She laughed.  She started to laugh a horrid, high pitched laugh that she could not stop.  Every glance at the screen just made her laugh out more.  She wanted to crawl into the screen and wrap herself around him and never let go.  He carried her back into the room and poured himself out a whiskey before returning to his spot outside.
     He started talking about different spots they had been in over the past few days and how they actually got to get away for the day and just hike around a state park.  He talked about Josh nearly falling off stage - again- although he was sure he was just trying to freak out security.  Jess was supposed to join them, but her brother Craig and his wife had their first baby.  The word rolled out of his mouth, shooting Violet right in the ovaries.  He talked about some girl that Danny had met that has him all over the place.
     Wiping her face once more, she was happy to find that her cheeks were no longer wet and her heart felt lighter.  Somehow, be it sleep deprivation or some form of miracle, Violet could feel him and his warmth tucked around her like a blanket as he spoke.  A few more breaths.  A few more wipes of her eyes she was sure were completely destroyed.  
     “Do you have a shift this morning?”  he asked before taking a sip of his drink.
     She shook her head.  He proceeded to fill her in on his day, the tour, how they’d be heading to Florida after a few canceled shows due to storm damage the following week.  He joked that Sam wanted to go hiking with alligators, but Danny slapped that notion out of his head.  She let him talk, filling her space with just the cadence of his voice seemed to soothe her nerves.  
     “So, Josh has decided to join a cult,”  he said, his eyes dreamily turned up.  “And not just any cult.  This one was started by a fan and yeah… so he’s now the leader and they worship his ass and contemplate dick size, pray for hours about how to get that cock to lay just right to make the fangirls enhance it in pictures and make daisy chains for him to wear on stage.”
     Violet felt her mouth drop.  “What?”
     “There you are.  Hey baby,”  he laughed.  “You glazed over there for a while.”
     Her eyes fluttered a bit as she realized she was on the verge of sleep.  “Sorry.  Yesterday just took a lot of me.”
     “I know.  I wish I could be there with you,”  he said, flashing a million dollar smile.
     “Nine more weeks,”  she sighed.  “Oh, um about that - the team was told that we’d be on a six month break without exception when we get home this time to get us back into the rotation.  It’ll be modified, so just a few days a week where I’ll have to be in on training sessions, but online only.”
     “Six months?  There’s a lot of trouble we can get into in six months.”
     The way his voice dropped low touched her core just right.  They said their goodbyes that stretched for another ten minutes before she finally disconnected the call.  In the silence of the tiny office, she could feel the crush and weight of the moment.  She dragged her bottom lip into her mouth in an effort to relegate the torrent that hit her mind.
     Umar tapped and opened the flimsy door.  His large dark eyes warmed her with light.  She could survive nine weeks.  This stint was so different from the last.  The contact was tethering, reminding her that he was real; that he loved her and that she fell a little bit more after each call, text and video chat, was very real.  He waved her out and they snuck outside to have a shared smoke.
     She was able to find laughter within days.  Peace within the week.  Lulit’s remembrance was strong.  The little girl’s light was not going to be extinguished.  Not fully.  Not ever.
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November
     Charlie welcomed her with an open coat and a huge hug.  Her dad was all chatters as they drove home, despite the four in the morning arrival and ice/sleet/snow mix that had threatened her fight from Chicago.  He was excited for the holiday and having all of his family home and in the same state for once that he could not stop his high beam even though she was threatening sunglasses and a privacy screen.  
      Reaching home, she was surprised that there was no snow, but thankful that her parents had stopped by to turn the heat on.  To go from seventies to thirties and then single digits in hours was jarring.  They stopped at a diner on the way out of Grand Rapids for coffee and actual food.  Jake was texting from LA and she was sure he had yet to actually sleep for the day.  She smiled into her cup of coffee as her dad asked about her fella.
     “I don’t know, Vi, you’re too old to say you have a boyfriend,”  Charlie remarked with a raised eyebrow.  “What the hell am I supposed to call him?”
     “My ‘fella’?  Sounds ancient, Dad,”  she laughed as tapped his leg under the table.
     They giggled over their toast and eggs.  It was just right to be sitting with her dad like they used to when she was little.  He preferred taking her for covert breakfast runs since she was happy with whatever he ordered and not picky about anything.  Or at least that was what she told herself to frame herself as the favorite child.  She was pretty sure that Travis was their dad’s standard lunch date, and Ava was his supper princess while they were growing up.  
     “Oh, by the way, I have to say I take issue with you, Father,”  she jabbed as her phone chimed with another text, this time a picture of Jake with his brothers behind him waving wildly.  
     “Why’s that?”  Charlie drawled before taking a bite of his toast, looking at the picture as she held up the phone to him.
     “You told him to ‘be the good’?  Really?  No context or anything?”
     Charlie laughed one of his big belly laughs.  “I was trying to be intimidating.  I would say that it worked.”
      She blushed.  “Yeah.  Yeah it did.”
      “When do they get in?”
      “Well, they get home to Nashville Wednesday.  I’ll fly down there next Sunday for a few weeks.  I did not want to miss seeing little Princess Olivia or Sir Quentyn,”  she said with a nod.
      “I appreciate that you wanted to stay, especially after… everything.  It means a lot to your mom, but to me, too.”   
      Home was like sliding into a veil of warmth.  Charlie helped her get her bags in just as it started to snow heavily.  He had already been over to turn the heat on and to make sure everything was fine, so she just had to come in and relax.  He even made sure that there was milk in the fridge, coffee on the counter, and her mom made sure linens were on her bed.  She kissed him with a thank you for spoiling her.  She would have a day before Ava arrived, so plenty of time to empty out her stuff and get her set up in the room downstairs.  
      She was in bed when Jake called to say goodnight.  He grinned to discover he was propped up on his pillow when she switched it over to a video chat.  Violet said she just needed to listen to him, saying it made her feel closer to home now that they were at least in the same country.  They talked about her flying down to Nashville and perhaps going out to Savannah for a long weekend.  She fought to keep her eyes open.  Surrounded in her soft quilt and sheets on a real mattress, wrapped in his t-shirt and his voice in her ears, Violet felt herself relax in a way that she had not been able to for months.  She felt her legs betray her first, each little knot and ache sank into the bed.  Her back sighed - actually sighed over the feel of her bed, not the hard as fuck slab that she had been sleeping on for six months.  The stress in her shoulders melted away.  Rubbing at her eyes, she tried to stifle a yawn, but failed.       “Sleepy, pretty girl?”  he asked softly.
      “I don’t want to sleep when you’re not here,”  she whispered.
      He laughed gently.  “I’m here.  I’ll stay.  Just close those eyes, baby.”
      “Jake?”
      “Yeah?”
      She had meant to say ‘love you’, and could have sworn she had, but the warmth and comfort of the spell he had woven around her dragged her into slumber.  She woke the next day to her phone lost in the blankets and a whole series of texts of pictures that he took of her sleeping.  He had simply put ‘see, I was here’.  
     Ava was a blessing.  She helped get everything back into place over a ton of wine and chocolate and talked about boys and jobs and the shitty girls that were so, so mean without cause at work.  They helped their mom with Thanksgiving prep the whole week, with sister-in-law Riley and the kids going bonkers in the snow.  They decided Arizona people were weird when it came to anything other than hot and dry or cold and dry.  Violet was reconnecting with her family in a way that she had dreamed of, especially over the last six months.
     Charlie was in his element on Thanksgiving.  Football boomed on the TV.  Family was milling around in the droves.  It was not just the immediate family either, but the uncles and aunts and grandparents and cousins from both sides of the family.  There were children everywhere.   Violet bumped into Will with an overwhelmed expression.  Big brother came to the rescue, pulling her outside with the heavy coats and drinks.
     “You look good, Vi,”  he said as she took a long, slow breath.  “The new job looks good on you.”
      “Thank you,”  she said with a little curtsy.  “It has been quite the experience so far.  Your kids are getting so big.  I can’t.  They were just babies the last time I saw them.”
      Catching up with William was great.  Violet’s eyes moved to the window seeing a burst of activity amongst so many people with so much food that dictated coma status.  Figuring that it was probably Tony and Cara arriving with a vat of booze.  
     “So, tell me about the guy, Vi,”  Travis said, opening his beer.
     “Well, Jake is in Nashville with his brothers and family,”  she started with a nod.  “I think you’d like him.  He’s pretty great.  Genuine.”
       Glancing back inside, she noticed Charlie and Tony at the side of the kitchen talking.  Her assumption confirmed, she turned her attention back to her brother as they slowly caught up.  Will was elusive.  His job kept him down south and did not allow for the family to visit often, so like the rest of her family, she was happy for the opportunity for some big brother time.  The remainder of the evening sped by and Violet felt like she was once more grounded in the reality of home.  
      Heavy snow had started to fall sometime in the night.  Violet found herself at ten in the morning shoveling through nearly a foot of the heavy shit along with Ava.  She let her little sister stay on the deck while she was trying to get to the blower in the shed.  Despite feeling like a stuffed marshmallow, she got to work, earbuds in place and music on full bore and snow flying.  The playlist that Jake had created for her kept her company as she marched up and down the driveway, wishing she could feel her feet and fingertips.  At the hour mark, she was cursing herself for being such a priss.  Ava was waving at her a steaming cup in her hand.
     “Chocolate - spiked!”  she yelled out as Violet paused.
     Rolling the blower up the drive for the final pass, she quickly made her way to the deck.  The heat of the liquid burned down to her belly, but it was a welcomed heat.  They decided the channel that Violet had made for the drive was enough to get the car up and back and that it was time to be done.  Ava tucked into a book while Violet put away the implements and trudged inside to shower.  
     She stayed under the spray until she was pruney, not feeling guilty at all and figuring it would curb much of the ache that she was already feeling in her shoulders.  As she dried her hair, she could have sworn she heard Ava talking to someone but figured it was probably her boyfriend on the phone.  Dressed, she walked down the stairs with the thought of a hot coffee being the bestest thing in the world at the moment.
      The smell of Jake’s cologne hit her nose and Violet felt hollow because of it.  She had had a stray thought at the previous night’s dinner that perhaps, just perhaps, Jake would surprise her and show up unannounced.  It had been her last thought as she drifted off that maybe it should be her turn and see if there was an earlier flight to Nashville.  Treading into the kitchen like it was a fever dream, she prepped a pod and reached for her cup.  She should call him.  Wait - a text would mean that he wouldn’t be bothered if he was with his parents, or if he was working.  She drummed her fingers on the counter a moment until Ava’s laugh drew her back to her body.  Turning, it was the soft wave of brown hair that grabbed her eye.  Her stomach dropped.  Shuffling forward, it was the twinkle of chocolate and smirk of a mouth that tripped her heart and elicited a soft laugh.
      “Fucking christ,”  she cursed as Jake stood up from the couch in the living room.
      “A little distracted?”  he asked as he walked towards her.
      “I must be,”  she whispered as he stepped into her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
      The room fell away as he kissed her.  The heat of his frame soaked into her skin and claimed her in his own way.  It was merely a moment, but she felt like half of her had returned to sharpen her entire planet into what it was supposed to be.  He glanced back at her sister as he was walking towards the stairs.  
      “Sorry - just going to be a few moments,”  he said smoothly as Violet laughed like an idiot.  
      He tugged her gently up the stairs.  Violet felt like she was walking through a dream.  The moment her feet landed on the floor, he moved faster, dragging her back into the bedroom, their bodies pressed together.  His mouth sought hers in a searing kiss.  His tongue danced with hers as his hands roamed over her like he was making sure she was real.  The soft sounds he made struck her ears, making her want him all the more.  He pulled back just enough so that he hovered just over her lips.  
     “Hey,”  he whispered.
     She couldn’t form words.  He had robbed her of any sense.  Instead, she slid her fingers around his neck to pull him close once more.  Violet took the moment to savor.  Savor him, his body against hers, his lips, his sound.  Her heart raged within her chest and her mind raced with him.  
     “I couldn’t wait.  I didn’t want to watch you fall asleep on that stupid phone again,”  he whispered as he trailed a line of sloppy kisses down her throat.  
     She dragged in an excited breath.  They were of the same mindset.  “I didn’t want to be selfish,”  she whispered.  “I wanted you to be with me.  I wanted to be with you…”
     He reclaimed her mouth, kissing her deeply like he could crawl inside of her.  She fought to keep in step with him.  Somehow, the ferocity of the moment within slowly turned to a simmer, their touches slowing, their breaths becoming more tender.  Violet tucked her chin so that she could finally look at him, taking in the slant of his cheek, the way his mustache hairs were curled from her lips.  The corner of his mouth tugged as he realized that she stared at his lips.
      “Damn, you’re so beautiful,”  he whispered against her cheek as he ghosted his face across hers.  
     Her heart screamed in love and adoration and all the gross, sappy shit that she swore she would swear was never real.  Every damn book, movie, song that ever professed anything syrupy sweet in regards to love was nothing compared to the moment she was experiencing.  It all made her laugh suddenly.  All the foolishness, all the concern and angst, all the fear that she had felt; all of it made her laugh out loud.  
     Jake cupped her cheek, the pad of his thumb dragging gently across her cheek.  Apparently, there were tears she did not realize she had.  He smiled at her, but there was a question in his eyes.
     “What?”  he whispered before planting tiny kisses under her eyes, following the bridge of her nose.
     She tucked his hair behind his ears.  “Nothing.  I’m just in love with you.”
     He hummed.  “Would it be rude of us to ignore your very sweet sister?”
     “Probably.  We’re supposed to head over to Mom and Dad’s in a bit,”  she sighed.  “Think you can survive a little longer?”
     “Think you can?  You’re like all sap and heart eyes,”  he joked, smoothing her hair back.
      Another wave of giggles and tears washed over her.  “I know.  You’ve wrecked me.”
     Tenderly, he kissed her, dragging her bottom lip in between his.  “I guess we both are.”
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deadcactuswalking · 2 months
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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/02/2024 (Beyoncé, VULTURES 1)
For a seventh week, Noah Kahan stays strong at #1 with “Stick Season” - but it’s Bey season and Ye season… no, those words don’t rhyme, and welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!
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Rundown
Welp, as always, we start with our notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75, which is what I cover, after five weeks in the top 75 and a peak in the top 40, and this week, we bid adieu to: “HISS” by Megan Thee Stallion (that was quick), “Gas Me Up (Diligent)” by Skepta, “Feather” by Sabrina Carpenter, “When We Were Young (The Logical Song)” by David Guetta and Kim Petras, “Surround Sound” by JID featuring 21 Savage and Yung Baby Tate, “Northern Attitude” by Noah Kahan, “Runaway” by Ye featuring Pusha T, “Can’t Catch Me Now” by Olivia Rodrigo, “Is it Over Now?” by Taylor Swift, “Black Friday” by Tom Odell, “Agora Hills” by Doja Cat, “My Love Mine All Mine” by Mitski and finally, “Baddadan” by Chase & Status and Bou featuring IRAH, Flowdan, Trigga and Takura. Yeah, bit of a bloodbath here.
You know, we actually have barely any returns or gains as a result of the influx of 13 new songs, so we have some vague post-GRAMMYs impact and that’s kind of all, with it mostly being in our returns - “Coal” by Dylan Gossett at #73 (probably not GRAMMYs), “FE!N” by Travis Scott featuring Playboi Carti at #71 and on a much more positive note, Tracy Chapman’s classic original version of “Fast Car” all the way at #38. It first charted at 1988 and peaked at #5 (when Glenn Madeiros’ schmaltzy “Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You” was #1) and then returned in 2011 and peaked at #4, when… “Party Rock Anthem” was #1. This won’t last or peak nearly as high, but it improves the net quality of the chart for the time it’s here. As for the gains, “Anti-Hero” by Taylor Swift at #57 and “Home” by Good Neighbours at #34. Yup.
As for our top five, we see Mr. YG Marley creep in maybe in part to his grandfather’s documentary as “Praise Jah in the Moonlight” is at #5. Then “Lose Control” by Mr. Teddy Swims is at #4, “Beautiful Things” by Mr. Benson Boone is at #3, “Murder on the Dancefloor”by Sophie Ellis-Bextor breaks my gag at #2 and finally, Noah is building his seven-week ark at #1. Now our real stories, of course, are in our influx of new entries, many of which are pretty damn high and have exceedingly more to talk about than I wish they did, so I suppose let’s start rounding those off.
New Entries
#64 - “ONE CALL” - Rich Amiri
Produced by Rio Leyva and Zuko
Now, I am not familiar with Rich Amiri, which is a pretty generic rap name all things considered so for all I know, I’ve listened to his mixtape, but I am familiar with some of his producers. Rio Leyva has credits across a lot of recent pop-rap mainstays like Lil Tecca, The Kid LAROI and even Yeat, and he tends to produce in a style many would say is rage-adjacent… so it makes sense that this is a rage song, with some genuinely wiry, menacing leads in the synths and a dirty, factorial trap skitter. The song’s barely two minutes, so it doesn’t really give Mr. Amiri much time to even finish his one verse, which is full of personality-void Auto-Tune and mindless repetition, but he isn’t exactly derivative of any specific person, it just sounds like he hasn’t figured out his exact voice yet, which is expected with up-and-coming rappers. The content obviously isn’t worth speaking of - it’s just flexing and violence and sex all delivered pretty plainly - but he’s not the worst at it? I don’t know, this is great production but I feel like there are rappers who could make this pop out a bit more. Maybe 454, SoFaygo, someone with a high-pitched squawk to make this feel dynamic? If you still want to go for relentless cool, get Thouxanbanfauni on the remix and this could be a slam dunk.
#62 - “Made for Me” - Muni Long
Produced by Jermaine Dupri, Bryan-Michael Cox and JordanXL
“Hrs and Hrs” is not a song I remember much at all let alone fondly, but the voice behind Muni Long is Priscilla Renea, a very prolific songwriter, so I imagine that with Jermaine Dupri on the boards, there could be some R&B wizardry to make her chances at a second hit much more solidified. As for if I like it or not, well, I can see it being a hit considering the 2000s throwback sound with the classy (yet almost basic-sounding) pianos, even down to the groove and the incessant sound effect that’s a bit distractingly loud in the mix, but by the end of the song, you almost forget it’s there and think it would sound weird if it wasn’t. Even if I generally like this song, I don’t really think it fits the song too much, which is about finding your soulmate and… NOT losing them. There should be some grandiosity to this, especially with that powerful voice and chorus, but it feels a bit lost in its own attempt to be “cool”, which… I don’t know, will it be a theme this episode? Probably not, but the first two songs definitely share the element of just not going far enough with good ideas. This is still a solid tune, though.
#60 - “Dance Alone” - Sia and Kylie Minogue
Produced by Jesse Shatkin and Jim-E Stack
Sia. Kylie. Two pop stars of very, very different prepositions but ultimately in the same niche. I have no hopes for anything Sia does, pretty much, never liked her, but what else would I have to say at this point? Her songs produce so little analysis from me because a lot of the time, it’s just kind of immediately obvious what will happen and what I’ll think. There are painfully basic vocal melodies, very typical disco-house beats, and Sia tries to actually play down the hamming but lets her natural characteristic of her voice end up preventing her from doing so because, well, that’s just how her voice sounds. A “subtle” Sia is just an awkward fit, and she may be trying that on purpose so she doesn’t put off pop listeners, but it just results in her being completely outclassed by Kylie, who eats this up as expected. That little “woo!” in the pre-chorus is to live for, as is the “(dance)” ad-lib in the final chorus, but by the time we’re in the “bridge” (see: the post-chorus again, same phrase repeated ad nauseum), Sia’s clipping in the mix again and nothing sounds like it cares about me caring, so I’m not caring. It’ll go hard in the Mumsnet forum voice chats. Do they have those? They should have those.
#55 - “Birds in the Sky” - NewEra
Produced by Karl Durkan and Ben Williams
Okay, I’ll bite: Who are NewEra? Well, according to Genius, they’re an EDM production duo from Dublin and this track from last year is their only song to appear on streaming, yet it’s released on Warner interesting. Either way, it’s clearly blown the Irish duo up a bit, so there must be some merit and well, the sample - wherever it’s from, I genuinely can’t find it - is about as weirdly mixed as they always are on these piano-led EDM cuts, but it doesn’t stick out too much amidst the more typical trance grooves and very basic, almost preset-sounding drums that lead into a constant anticlimax, leading the pianos and barely impactful drop sound like they’re teasing you into a false sense of confidence that the song is at all moving. It damn well works though, it’s pretty hypnotising, so when I was lulled into the drumless glitching section where the cheap pianos actually build up to a pretty good pounding drop, I was thoroughly immersed. These guys have done something right.
#50 - “Make You Mine” - Madison Beer
Produced by Madison Beer and Leroy Clampitt
Madison Beer is one of those ostensible “pop stars” that don’t exactly make innovative, experimental or often even interesting music but still exist only on the peripheries of the mainstream, many of which eventually get some kind of breakout chart hit, and this might just be Ms. Beer’s… well, if this is supposed to convince me on the personality and character of Madison Beer, I am not impressed at all, she doesn’t sound interested in developing that. If it’s supposed to convince me on her production ability… yeah, I’m hopping on this train. This is incredible. My comment on her vocal performance is not a detracting remark of the song, her emotionally confused, at times static and always intimate vocal take adds a lot of depth to the intense, but more accurately hallucinatory sensuality of the song. There’s a lot of staccato repetition, sure, I mean, it’s deep house, but it’s all a luring act as you can “slip inside her mind” (sure), against the warped synth basses, echoed and fuzzy vocal production, mesmerising synths that are incredibly well panned and mixed - the sound design is immaculate, and that’s not even mentioning the incessant groove or one of the catchiest nonsense hooks in pop of recent years. The drop barely registers as such, it feels like a natural climax that the song just slides into, despite all the little intricacies in both the build-up and the catharsis that transform the song into a fizzling journey of sexy club-pop that goes a lot harder in the details that I expected it to. I mean, the overdubbing of synth leads and curious glitches in the outro - nothing’s going to go exactly “wrong” in this hook-up, but it’s not where either expected to be… and for that night, it’s life-changing. I didn’t think I’d like this as much as I do but oh, my God, please make this a hit. ASAP.
#47 - “Heaven or Hell” - K-Trap
Produced by Nathaniel London, Jester Beats and Godwin Sonzi
Well, K-Trap’s back, this time without Headie One, and I guess this is his song for the ladies. There’s a swash of R&B keys, a Central Cee acoustic guitar - or an *NSYNC acoustic guitar relistening - and an actually interesting choice in making the drill hi-hats and really the rhythm section in general a bit papery, with a bass that feels mixed a bit too low yet still being relatively busy. K-Trap is just rambling misogynistically over all of this, and not just in a typical rap way, it’s a bit distracting and groan-worthy, but his comical delivery of some of this as well as the female spoken interludes kind of explain away his hypocrisy a bit. Not too effectively, of course, but it’s worth pointing out that it’s somewhat of a two-way street. I still find the soft percussion resemblant of sample drill pretty refreshing and enjoyable, I just wish maybe there was a more melodic presence of a rapper on it. Still okay.
#44 - “16 CARRIAGES” - Beyoncé
Produced by Beyoncé, Ink and Dave Hamelin
So, Queen Bey released two country-influenced songs on the Sunday - one’s in the top 10, the ballad is at #44. I will wait until this act two of RENAISSANCE is actually out before making any statements on Beyoncé doing country outside of that I hope she ends up shouting out or giving chances and/or feature spots to other Black women in that field, as a way of propping up that community within an industry that pretty flagrantly prevents that instead of just doing a genre switcheroo because she can and convincing nobody about anything systemic in the meanwhile. Hell, that’s more for me, personally, because I’d like to know a lot more Black country artists, and given that I’m obliged to listen to this album, I mean if you care about the genre, Bey, it’d be cool to point me in some directions. Not that it’s her job, but it would be a worthwhile light to shine especially since Beyoncé is both a hitmaker and a bit of a tastemaker.
As for the first of her country efforts though, this is a pretty heartfelt southern soul track that could almost act as a campfire song if not for Bey just not being in that zone as a singer, but it definitely has the clapped rhythm of one and some compelling lyrics regarding her time touring with Destiny’s Child. Now it’s less smoky than I’d really want a song like this to be, it doesn’t sizzle as much as it stagnates, particularly with that crash into the guitars and church organs that doesn’t really surge the way I so badly wanted it to. I do find the vocals excellent, the narrative interesting and still surprisingly relevant to her as a modern touring act as well, and the rapping is surprisingly well implemented, it feels just like she’s shooting the shit in the middle of her country storytelling song. In that regard, I’d like there to be a lot less grandiosity to the presentation, maybe do without the soaring overdubs or horns, make this more of an explicitly acoustic effort. I know it wouldn��t fit Beyoncé and all her harmonies and belting, as her presence isn’t always fit for minimalism, but she could pull it off. The problem with that would be is it doesn’t emulate the theatrics of a stage performance and the abrupt shock of showbiz being put onto her at an early age, so there’s some great mirroring there that almost makes up for me not being greatly into the actual sound of these tracks. Regardless, it does have me excited for the more solemn moments on this album, but we won’t be covering that until the end.
#37 - “Abracadabra” - Wes Nelson featuring Craig David
Produced by Mike Brainchild and Rndm Beats
CRAIG DAVID?! And it doesn’t appear to be a sample? The crowd says “bo selecta” indeed. Whatever about this Wes Nelson guy, he sounds like an AI amalgamated what every R&B singer has sounded like since the planes hit, or realistically, just Jeremih, but the beat is a rough-around-the-edges 2-step jam with harder bass than you’d think and some blocky space synths. It’s all very rote but it’s also Craig David and man, you can put however many filters on his voice, it’ll still sound like Craig David, and I can’t even seriously critique him anymore. I’m sure he’s a complex, nuanced human being with flaws and feelings but to me, he’s just an unexplainable deity figure. Also, there is a moment during the drop of this song - and the outro - where the beat cuts out for Craig David to say “Bruh”, and I just needed to point this out.
#31 - “Forever” - Noah Kahan
Produced by Noah Kahan and Gabe Simon
The Vermont singer-songwriter has released what appears to be the final deluxe edition of his #1 album Stick Season, subtitled “Forever”, henc ethe name of its sole original song. I’m honestly surprised this didn’t debut higher, but there is a lot debuting above it, and Kahan tends to have sleepers. Speaking of sleepers, I’m not really feeling this one as much. It’s got the wistful acoustics but it’s a lot slower in its pace, especially for its first half, which makes Kahan’s frail, nasal vocal that I’m still not that big on not nearly as ignorable, especially as it punctuates the lyrics so exactly and ends up making the harmonies, especially in the pre-chorus, somewhat haunting, which given the deterministic lovelorn lyricism, doesn’t seem to be the intention? It eventually picks up a nice little bluegrass-esque groove but nothing too far from an average Lumineers track in terms of just lacking bite and punch, whilst forcing Kahan to strain more than he needs to, to sell pretty resonant content.
#18 - “BACK TO ME” - Adolf Hitler and Ty Dolla $ign
Produced by Hitler, Ty Dolla $ign, 88-Keys, Wax Motif, AyoAA, Feez, Nic Nac and James Alex Hau
88-Keys, huh? Now, I’m not saying that Kanye West is Hitler, I’m just doing him a favour and comparing him to his idol. There are a lot of things that he loves about him. In a perfect world, I have the choice to completely ignore this album, especially since two of the debuts from VULTURES 1 (debuted at #2 on this week’s album charts) are considered widely to be the best tracks by both me and a lot of the fans, though I am a sucker for the darker, problematic last quarter that people don’t tend to like that much. I don’t want to admit that, of course, and I’m kind of torn between not feeding into exhaustive discourse by not mentioning any controversy and then feeling bad for not doing so because I’d be supporting his cult of fans who supposedly only care about the music, regardless of how his music is constantly reminding you of his controversies. It’s also not easy when you have two pretty damn good tracks from an album that largely consists of the man embarrassing himself and, well, Ty Dolla $ign, who sounds wonderfully smooth on this track and many others. He stands out particularly well over the punchy breakbeats and bass that entrench the mix. Hitler does embarrass himself as usual, but the minute-and-a-half Auto-Tuned quoting of an old comedy movie that he probably doesn’t even remember the rest of is an almost poetic reflection of where he is as an artist and a man. Oh, and Freddie Gibbs shows up to steal the show so effortlessly with his tightest, rapid flows I think I’ve heard from him in years, some excellent, topical wordplay that feels like it’s what the album wanted to be: playful and effervescent in its hedonism. He steals the show so much in fact that the song just ends after he does, he takes complete ownership. Nice one, Gibbs, do it on someone else’s album, for the love of God.
#17 - “BURN” - Adolf Hitler and Ty Dolla $ign
Produced by Hitler, Azul, Morten “Rissi” Ristorp, Chrishan, The Legendary Traxster and Leon Thomas III
This is just what this guy’s album used to sound like. We have a mid-album reminder that he can still do it, but only for two minutes, and half of that is Ty the Tasmanian Tiger over here carrying the album with his sloppily-mixed but still incredibly passionate and incessantly catchy chorus - I’ve had it in my head for the whole damn week, pretty much - over a very conventional, punchy chipmunk soul beat that lasts less than two minutes and it just ends up on a bittersweet note. The Hitler verse is his most coherent during the whole album, it’s pretty fun, it’s pretty traditional, not worth the attention paid. And neither is…
#12 - “CARNIVAL” - Adolf Hitler and Ty Dolla $ign
Produced by Hitler, TheLabCook, Ojivolta and Digital Nas
Now, thankfully, there really is nothing of value to cover here regardless of how and where you slice it. The song is like 60% Rich the Kid, which should show you how inspired the former GOAT has been lately. Hitler spends most of his verse just being cheaply transgressive for attention, pretty much explaining why I’m not a fan of prominent critics covering this album, dignifying it as more than an ego trip surrounded by yes-men. That’s not to say transgression can’t be art, there’s a lot of discussion to be had about the value of transgressions against the audience. And Hell, maybe a rage song about riding dick featuring Rich the Kid and Playboi Carti warrants that level of analysis, but that’s exactly what Hitler wants me to do here, and I’m not taking instructions from Hitler! I’m not following orders!
#9 - “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” - Beyoncé
Produced by Beyoncé, Killah B and Nathan Ferraro
Alright, this is just fun. I’m sure someone more equipped than me to talk about country than me will have a lot to say about this song, but I just got a kick out of Bey’s sultry voice, as always perfectly layered with energetic ad-libs and riffing, over that acoustic rolick and clearly programmed thumping production and generic country ambiance. You can tell that this isn’t produced by Nashville staples as much as it’s a semi-outsider attempt at fusing country with Beyoncé’s more natural pop and R&B territory, but it doesn’t detract from it being a sick groove about just having a lot of fun on the dancefloor, boogieing with somebody who makes you forget about everything that’s going wrong. That whistling post-chorus with all the traditional fiddle - if I’m getting that correct - in the background is such a cool little moment, especially with the panning that replicates the live hoedown feel. It absolutely feels much more like a costume party than “16 CARRIAGES”, but to be honest, I might prefer this one just because of how easily Bey dresses up in this particular set of clothes. That’s not derogatory either, she literally lists off “hoops, spurs, boots” in that gorgeous outro. I’m actually glad that such a large, potentially problematic but still full of music to discuss ends on such a delightful, carefree note. Love it.
Conclusion
It’s not getting the best, though, Best of the Week is going to… surprisingly enough, Madison Beer for “Make You Mine”, but Bey obviously grabs the Honourable Mention with “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM”. As for the worst, I mean… there is a song with Rich the Kid on this week. “CARNIVAL” is a shoe-in, but given this was actually a pretty great week in terms of overall quality, it’s difficult. I think I want to give it to K-Trap for “Heaven and Hell” but that’s really because it appears as the lazier, less interesting of the songs I wasn’t a fan of. On another day, it probably would have been Sia, but K-Trap doesn’t have a Kylie Minogue feature. Anyway, with all of that chaos out of the way, thank you for reading, rest in peace to country legend Toby Keith, and I’ll see you next week!
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anxietywriter · 3 months
Text
spare me the indignity
Nothing's New - Rio Romeo
prompts based off that song bc ughhhh i like it. the way the tone changes throughout the song to sound more desperate. my beloved. these are kind of sad. because the song is sad. second person pov bc i am lazy.
TW: sadness, half??? all of this is breakup stuff :(((
it's standing on their doorstep in the rain, begging them to take you back. torn between pounding on their door and giving them space. dropping to your knees in defeat and feeling the cold patio on your knees, the way your breath heaves. the nausea at the thought that it's all over. the pleas fall so easily from your lips, please i'll do better, please i'll change, please give me one more chance, please let me prove it to you.
being surprised when they accept your proposal to go out together. a date. and you're so happy. you've pined for ages for a chance at this, for them. you dress up, straightening out your clothes with a plan to take them somewhere nice. so it stings a little when you see that they haven't done the same. when you speak with them only to be met with curt, nearly hostile responses. and you're confused, then angry. what kind of person accepts a date just to act like a jerk? they're wholly indifferent and cold, they won't even let you hold their hand. and you're hurt. perhaps that's why you don't see the regret and panic in their eyes when you leave.
you're wholly in love. just a few months and you're absolutely taken by their sweet pet names and promises. you talk with them everyday, checking your messages constantly. you're excited. eager. you spend all the time you can with them because damn your heart you've fallen so fast and you're already imagining life with them. the one curse with routine, with pattern. with talking everyday, saying good morning and good night... is that you notice when it slows to a near stop. and you panic, leaving them messages and voicemails, asking them what's wrong. and they say nothing. you repeat it back to them, feeling the lie on your tongue. you don't say anything. you pretend it's normal. you hope they come back. they don't.
related to the one above, in an aftermath sort of sense. they stop talking to you entirely. everything, gone, they avoid you, ignore your messages, block your number. just gone. and you leave them alone, because that's clearly what they want. and all that love turns to grief. so much time, wasted. so much love, wasted. and you're so bitter. because the least they could've done was said something. was to end it clean when you confronted them. but no, they let you embarrass yourself. pleading to an empty void to come back. and you're so angry that they stole away even your dignity. it's the way you knew that you should've ended it yourself. but you were in too deep. eyes still fogged up from that love drunk feeling.
taking them for granted. you grow bored, everything's the same. you fall into complacency. the two of you never go on dates anymore, hardly even spend time together. and when you do, it's the same stale silence or conversation. nothing's ever new, which is why you pick up on how different they look at you one day. the love has faded from their eyes. that's how you knew it was over. and their voice was quiet as they broke up with you, barely a murmur. and your voice warbled as you replied. and everything was quieter after that. duller than you ever thought possible.
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casspurrjoybell-17 · 1 year
Text
HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 20
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*Warning: Adult Content* 
Skylar West kisses Martin Hunter with tender patience, his lips and breath are soft caress and his embrace a safe net ensnaring him. 
Martin longs to give in and surrender himself to Skylar but after a moment of bliss, he pushes him away instead.
"Wait. Stop."
Martin rests his hands on Skylar’s chest and stares down at the sliver of space between us, as if it were a bottomless and unbroachable void.
"Why?" 
Skylar’s voice is quiet and undemanding, inviting Martin to set the speed.
"I can't," Martin says. 
"The kids."
"The kids are sleeping," Skylar says but Martin shakes his head. 
"They won't understand."
"Understand what? That their father is a man in need of comfort and companionship? I think you underestimate them."
Very gently and careful not to force the motion, Skylar tucks a finger beneath Martin’s jaw and makes him look up at him.
"Martin, tell me the truth. We both know the kids will be fine."
Suddenly feeling a little out of breath, Martin knocks Skylar’s hand away and turns aside. 
"I'm just not ready for this," he says, hunching in on himself defensively. 
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It's been a while since you were with someone, hasn't it? Since your separation, at least, I imagine."
Martin laughs. 
"Well before that. Why do you think I'm so certain Nico and Rio aren't mine, naturally speaking?"
Skylar tries and fails to hide his surprise. 
"Your wife withheld her affections so long?"
"Affections?" Martin laughs at the archaic expression. 
"She had no 'affection' to give. As for... physical intimacy..." Martin crosses his arms self-consciously, remembering just how 'physical' she liked to get. 
"No. We had not engaged in 'marital activities' in a long time."
"Have you been with a man before?"
Skylar’s casual tone catches Martin off-guard and he turns to find him watching him with a curious, slightly concerned expression.
"Once. In college, before Elena. I was never unfaithful," Martin says.
"Just once?"
Flushing, Martin turns away and studies the bare, freshly painted walls. 
"Yes. It was... somewhat transactional."
"Transactional?"
Martin winces at the imagined judgment in Skylar’s tone.
"I had something I wanted to lose, if you know what I mean," he says. 
"It wasn't the best experience and it made me doubt my identity for a while, so I never tried again. What about you?" he asks, turning the question back on Skylar.
"Not often and nothing serious but I've scratched the itch now and again," Skylar says easily, "With men, women and everything in-between. 'Pansexual' is how it's described these days, I believe."
"These days?" Martin raises his brows at him. 
"How old are you? More to the point, what are you?"
Skylar smiles disarmingly.
 "You're right, perhaps we ought to get to know each other better before we get to know each other in the biblical sense."
"You already know pretty much all there is to know about me," Martin says. "You're the one who's still a mystery."
"Some things are easier to show than to tell’" Skylar says, touching the tips of his fingers to his lips thoughtfully. 
"That's why I was hoping we might visit the lake this evening. But I suppose some of it requires explanation, nonetheless. The truth is..." 
He takes a breath. 
"My mother is a queen."
Martin blinks as his brain searches for a believable interpretation of this.
"Your mother is a drag queen?" Martin asks, frowning. 
He supposes Skylar’s long hair would save him some money on wigs and he might have been reluctant to tell him, he performs, given his job and all the misinformation out there these days. 
Skylar laughs. 
"I've been known to enjoy a good drag show, now and then but no. My biological mother is Queen Meridia of Thassos, which makes me Prince Scyllian, heir to the throne."
"Prince..." 
Martin shakes his head and laughs at himself. Skylar had found it easier to accept that Martin is a wolf than he’s finding it to accept that he's some kind of royalty. 
"Sorry. I'm an American werewolf," Martin says. 
"I doubt I could even find all fifty states on a map. Where is Thassos? I don't think I've heard of it."
"There's a Greek island of the same name," Skylar says. 
"But my mother's domain is... further offshore. Nearer the Azores."
Having only a vague idea where that might be, somewhere off the coast of Europe, Martin thinks, he merely nods. 
"Okay. So, this is like one of those 'prince in disguise' things and you didn't want to tell me because you were worried that I'd only be interested in you for your money or title or something?"
"Or something," Skylar says, laughing lightly. 
"It will make better sense tonight, at the lake."
Martin frowns. 
"Why the lake, anyway?"
"I like the water," Skylar says, closing the distance between them once more and looping his arms around Martin’s waist. 
"Almost as much as I like you. So, what do you think? Will your children object to their father kissing a prince?"
"Not if the prince doesn't object to kissing a wolf," Martin says, fighting a smile.
He had been terrified that Skylar would reveal some awful, deal-breaking secret and his relief is like a rush of sugar in his veins. 
When Skylar kisses him, he kisses him back with less restraint and a little thrill of excitement shoots along his nerves. 
His wolf isn't dying. 
Elena had been slowly killing him for so long he'd simply forgotten what it felt like to be alive.
Like this, like there's champagne sparkles in his blood and like every touch tingles with electricity. 
When Skylar slides his hands under Martin’s shirt, he arches against him and lifts his arms so he can slide it over his head, then opens his mouth to a more invasive kiss as he does the same to him. 
Firm muscles shift beneath Martin’s palms, from his trim waist to his swimmer's shoulders, broad and strong. 
The warmth of Skylar’s body, the silk of his skin against Martin’s and the hot glide of his tongue combine to intoxicating effect and when he turns them and walks Martin backward towards his bed, he goes with it and lets him push him down. 
Part of Martin is aware that Skylar still hasn’t told him very much and a more cynical part is aware he might not have even told him the truth. 
He may not have aced geography but how many kingdoms has never heard of could there possibly be? 
But another part of him doesn't care.
The part so starved of love and so injured by it, that it trembles with a painful mix of hope and terror, tells the rest of him to shut up and good choices be damned, live a little.
Then, when Skylar’s lips and hands stray, the first to the side of Martin’s throat and the second below his waist, another part comes to its senses.
"Wait, the kids." Martin gasps, half delirious with passion but still unwilling to forget his duties as a parent.
"They'll sleep awhile yet, surely," Sky murmurs, his lips tickling the dip between Martin’s collarbones.
"It's already been twenty minutes. Nico and Rio recharge fast."
"I see."
To Martin’s dismay, Skylar backs off and looks down at him with a frown.
"I mean... We'll just have to make it quick," Martin says and the corners of Skylar’s lips twitch. 
"I don't want anything we do to be 'quick.' But I suppose we might be quick even while we take things slow."
His gaze travels down Martin’s body and stops below his navel.
"Show me," he says. 
For a full ten seconds, Martin lies without moving, paralyzed with embarrassment and indecision. 
Then, with his heart beating a wild tempo against his ribs, he unbuttons and unzips his pants, lifting his hips as he pushes them down. 
Skylar stares as he does the same to himself and Martin can't help staring, too. 
Between nerves and mixed emotions, Martin is only half-hard but Skylar is 100% ready for action. 
Presented with flushed skin, thick veins and a length and girth that makes Martin’s eyes go wide, he utters two words he instantly regrets.
"Fuck me."
"My pleasure," Skylar says, grinning, 
"And yours as well, I hope. But not today. For today... let's just get to know each other, shall we?"
Wordlessly and breathlessly, Martin nods and Skylar moves over him again, aligning their shafts and taking both in his hand. 
Martin bites back a groan but Skylar smothers it with a kiss.
"Just let it be," he says. 
"Here and now, you and me. Just feel."
Martin obeys but as he'd told Skylar, it's been quite a long time and while he’s taken care of his own needs now and then, he’s more often ignored it. 
With a few strokes of Skylar’s hand and the sensation of his hard length against his, Martin is gasping, then cresting, then done. 
Before he has a chance to register embarrassment, however, Skylar joins him, his head thrown back as he comes in a few spurts of hot, creamy seed. 
Panting, Skylar grins, swiping a finger through the mingled cum painting Martin’s abdomen, licks it and then leans to kiss him. 
The strange, salted sweetness on his tongue should disgust Martin but it doesn't.
 Instead, it feels like they've just done something sacred, something beautiful and free of sin. 
He has never felt anything like it before and as this dawns on him, a well of sorrow opens in his heart. 
Elena wasn't his fated Mate. 
He had known that and had Chosen her anyway. 
Now, it seems fate has given him a second chance. 
Skylar lifts himself to look down at Martin, his expression pinched with concern. 
"You're crying."
Martin touches his face and feels the wetness there.
"Have I... Oh My God, Martin, if this isn't what you wanted..."
Shaking his head, Martin reaches for Skylar, drawing him back into a kiss.
"No," he says, letting them both up for air. 
"If you don't care what I am, then I don't care what you are, Sky. I only care that..."
The quick double beep of a horn interrupts him and he startles, bumping their foreheads together.
"Ow. Who the hell...?"
Skylar lets Martin up and he zips his pants and walk to the windows at the far end of the room. 
A postal service truck is parked in the drive, a confused-looking delivery driver standing beside it with a large envelope in her hand.
"Shit."
He strides back across the room and reaches for his shirt but Skylar gently grasps his wrist, looking pointedly at the evidence of their recent fun drying on his skin.
"I'll get the package," he says, pulling his own shirt over his head. 
"You get cleaned up."
Grumbling under his breath, Martin does as he says. 
The noise might have woken the kids, anyway. 
In the bathroom Martin finds a clean washcloth, dampen it and wipes himself clean, then pulls on his shirt and steps outside just as Skylar returns, envelope in hand.
"I had to sign for it," Skylar says, frowning as he hands it to him. 
"Something legal, I think."
Martin takes it, studies the return address and feels his heart stumbles in his chest.
"Martin." 
Skylar catches him as his legs give way, making him curse his overly dramatic nervous system. 
"What is it? What's wrong?"
Weakly, Martin hands Skylar the envelope.
"It's from Elena," he says. 
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krushkreates · 2 years
Text
herculean
day 2 of the 30 Day Writing Challenge Volume 2: August Edition
prompt: write about a heated debate
kody
tw: allegory to SA, minor threats of violence, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, basically kody lying about the incident with the fl, victim blaming to the absolute highest degree like i cannot stress this enough, ableism and mocking
they lied and sent him running.
or
lasko tries so hard to stick up for the freelancer when seeing kody, it stirs up some amusement to the latter.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/40785795
he could still picture the shaky man standing in front. the way his hands rung nervously and alternated between shaking and clenching into a fist. his eyes couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second or so. kody relished in the fear that radiated from lasko: this was better than anything he could’ve imagined.
the room was hot and stuffy with a sea of bodies fidgeting before dispersing to their designated competition waiting rooms. he half-contemplated taking away the moisture just to spare him a moment, but the way the competitors gave him extra room and more than a few side-eyes had rescinded that decision as soon as it planted itself into his brain.
they all knew who he was. it wasn’t a secret. hell, it wasn’t even an open secret. word traveled fast on campus (and to other campuses) after a nosy fire elemental heard the water elemental furiously argue with the head of ethics. the screaming match between the two floated into the office where a couple student receptionists had been privy to nearly the entire conversation. whether the choice they made to record the most intense part of the argument and post it on social media was good or bad, he had been condemned before they even listened to his side. a pariah, standing alone in a corner. it took months before he was able to walk into a room and not have half the occupants send him six feet under.
making friends again took even longer; having to explain that the freelancer did, in fact, want to bridge and they only got upset after having a false idea put in their heads by their so-called “friends” was a huge challenge. a herculean effort was put onto his shoulders and he felt like atlas; having to carry it and chip away slowly at the absurd “wrongness” of the situation started eroding him like the rio grande through the grand canyon.
the breaking point coincided with the games. he had all summer to shake off the trauma the fl had caused him. when kody stepped foot onto mckinley’s campus, the papers that had served him a barring from the e&e games became null and void. the administration opened the gates to him, their words tasted like nectar and ambrosia as they explained that the sports and activities bans only lasted for the school year they were put in. unless the department had fully gotten involved, once the new year started, the true new year came in with a blank slate.
kody practiced like he would drop dead, forming and bending and concentrating and hydrating until he felt like a raisin after. his non-surprise when he placed in the preliminaries was shrugged off in faux modesty by his friends. he relished the attention, and even more so when his pre-games reverie was broken by none other than the counselor that had shrugged that herculean/atlas combo onto his weary shoulders; lasko moore.
the idiot had decided to actually visit him.
now, here he was, running his mouth dry about how he’d supposedly “make his life a living hell” but the stuttering had driven kody out of focusing on whatever the air elemental was trying to say. how could he be blamed? the constant repetition easily made him lose track of his words, so how on earth did he teach?
he was taught that interrupting someone speaking was rude, but really, he was doing himself and everyone else a favor by interjecting and shutting moore up. to drive home his point, he poorly stutters back to him, kissing ass just to drive it home how much he doesn’t care.
all he heard is “Fuck you” and saw the man stomp off. kody couldn’t stop the smile from coming onto his face, the future adrenaline from winning overtaking him.
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sargucopperpot · 2 years
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Today (May 15, at the time of publishing this) it's the birthday of my Minecraft Character and Shadow of Israphel OC, Skylord Mallark. I choose this date because it's close to the day that I adopted him a year ago. And for celebrating it, I made a Basic Reference Sheet of him. (At least i'ts not 7 pages long like the previous private one… oh god.) Update 23/06/2022: I'ts 8 pages again........) Also, I put in the read more the basic information about him and some facts, since before I only dropped snippets of his lore, lol.
The reference sheets are below the text. He is supposed to be modelled after the actor Santiago Cabrera* (who did roles as Aramis in "The Musketeers"* or Cristóbal "Chris" Rios in "Star Trek: Picard) , combined with the hairstyle of Gladiolus from Final Fantasy XV, but because basically the hairstyle looks cool. His weapons (below their positions and real sized), the Flintlock Pistol (a retextured Crossbow) and the Cutlass (Retextured Iron Sword), both date back to when Mallark was part of his uncle's crew and then a Shiplord for 11 years (from his 16 to 27) ; but when he joined the Skylords at the age of once he had 27, he brought it them. The Pouch is mostly to save the bullets.
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Mallark's True self reference sheet.
PSA: Please note that the lore marked below is an ultra-trimmed and remixed version of the original public domain Three Musketeers story, specially adapted for Mallark's lore, as well as the design is derived and slightly simplified from the design of the BBC series.
*As Mallark in his human form is almost a coincidental double of the musketeer (and the actor who brings him to life), he didn't use that form until Aramis died on some lonely mission for some reason and the fluffling quickly takes advantage of that to impersonate him and use his identity to go undercover if the missions and adventures requires it.
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Reference sheets of Mallark's Human form. The designs are directly based on and slightly derived from those featured in the BBC series.
Basic info and facts about him.
Name: Mallark LeBroir Age: 38 Y/O Birth: May 15 Race: Fluffling (Human half-breed) Gender: Male (He/Him) [Sexuality: Bisexual] Horoscope: Taurus Faction: Skylords, previously Shiplords (mainly as Shiplord Hubert's Crew), Haxton LeBroir (his uncle)'s Crew. Job: Explorer/ Adventurer Height and Weight: 6ft (1.83 m), 79kg /174 Ibs Habilities: Shapeshifting, Swordsmanship, Airship and Plane piloting, Ship drive Weapons: Flintlock Pistol, Cutlass, Claws, Fangs. (Undercover as a Human) French Musket, Rapier. Facts: —Mallark is able to take a human appearance due to a curse (not pictured here), which provoked some confusions. Like that time an Israphel Cultist murdered a guy very similar to Mall as a human, thinking it was him. Or the fact that there was a double of the Fluffling who was a Musketeer, and that Mallark would then end up taking advantage of this for some undercover adventures/missions. —He has fear of the End, mainly because he don't want die in the void. —He comes from a Minecraftia (aka Shadow of Israphel universe) equivalent of an area between the Costa Brava, in Girona (Spain) and the whole of the French Mediterranean coast. But he was born in a city similar to Marseille (like his Father), so, aside of English, he can also speak French, Spanish, and Catalan. —He is always hissing when he tries to speak. —Despite he is a Skylord and pilot Planes, Skyships or use Skygliders (something similar to Elytra), he is somehow still attached to the sea, so he is also seen sometimes steering Skylord Jasper's ship's Wheel, and even in the past he was a Shiplord and was part of Hubert's small crew. —When Mallark isn't on his Skyship, he resides in Icaria, near the docks and the beach. —He rescued a Human-Glare named Windo*, who resulted to be a reincarnation with the same body of one of the deceased Last Watch Hold Templar. *The name is subject to change, btw.
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the-bee-monarch · 3 years
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If you think about it, all humans are juice dispensers for vampires
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bensonstablers · 3 years
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So, I don’t normally post this kind of thing on here but I’ve had yet another Good Girls/Brio AU idea — a vampire / vampire hunter AU — and I figured that instead of letting it get lost to the void of ideas and WIP pieces, I would post this little scene here considering it was very fun to write :)
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It happens suddenly. One second Beth’s alone in the alleyway and the next, Rio’s at her back. His arm is tight around her waist, holding her against his chest. When she tries to reach for the dagger at her side, his free hand grasps her wrist. It’s hard enough to be taken seriously and stop her from moving further but not enough to cause any injury. She stills, trying to focus on keeping her breathing calm and steadying her heart, aware that he can hear every beat of it. She wonders if he can smell the blood coursing through her and she shudders at the thought.
“That wouldn’t stop me,” he says and her fingers instinctively flex, brushing against the dagger. “Although, it might piss me off.”
She hums in agreement. “Well, I do plan to make sure it hurts like a bitch.”
“Aw, don’t worry, darling.” She can practically hear his grin as he speaks. “I have no plans to hurt you. I won’t even take a bite.”
Beth scoffs. “Sure.”
She could easily throw her head back, hopefully, strike him hard enough to throw him off balance so she can pull away from him, only, as she seriously considers that plan, his lips are at her neck. They brush gently against the side of it, a shiver running through her at the cold contact, and then she feels them, his fangs grazing against her skin.
“Unless you want me to, of course.”
“I’ll never want you to.”
He kisses her skin once before closing his mouth over the same spot. He presses down hard enough that she can feel the points of his fangs pushing against her, close to breaking the skin, and while her hands tighten into fists and another shiver rips through her, she can’t help the intrigue she has, wondering what it might feel like if he were to simply bite down.
It doesn’t happen though. Instead, he pulls away, laughing so hard her body rocks against his and a blush heats her cheeks and the back of her neck. She just knows he’s sensed that change in her, how her mind had wandered, and she wishes she could take it back.
“All you gotta do is ask,” Rio says, his lips at her ear, his laughter finally dying down.
Beth huffs, doing her best to throw her elbow back against him but he curves away from her, his arm around her waist only loosening momentarily before he’s pressed against her back again.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
But there’s only amusement in his voice and she struggles a little against him. He’s still not holding her hard enough to hurt her but she can’t imagine she’ll get away with much before that changes. Feeling the tension in her body grow, she huffs.
“What do you want?” she snaps.
“Just wanted to see who Turner sent after me this time.”
As the word’s hit her, her body freezes. It’s not just him pressed against her that has a chill going down her spine. “This time?’
“Oh, darling,” he says and there’s something in his tone. Pity, maybe. “You’re not the first to be thrown to the wolves.”
And before she can say anything, he shoves her forward hard enough that she stumbles. She moves her arms, hoping to get some balance and it’s close but she just about stops herself from falling flat on her face.
Unsurprisingly, when she turns around, Rio’s gone.
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emblemxeno · 3 years
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Do you think fandom reaction would've been different for FE3H if the genders of characters were reversed?
Edelgard = Edgard
Dimitri = Dimitra
Claude = Claudia
Rhea = Cronus/Rio
Sothis = Sa/Anubis
Gender bias would probably have an effect yeah. I don't know what kind it would have though, considering Rhea and Dimitri are already treated fairly similarly as it is, just different flavors of "crazy and needs to be put down for the greater good". Though I'd imagine a female Dimitri would get a more visceral "crazy bitch" notoriety and a male Rhea would probably be seen as extremely creepy not just cuz of how she speaks regarding church duties/responsibilities (the whole 'sinners must be punished' stuff) but also cuz an older man showing as much affection as Rhea does would generate a fuck ton of red flags from people, especially the fake woke crowd and terfs who are always "men bad no exception".
A female Claude... might get the same reaction as he does already? It's hard to gauge really, cuz Claude as he is? Pretty good guy with a sneaky streak and a knack for politicking. Idk how much the reception would change if he were a girl.
A male Edelgard would probably garner less overt sympathy imo. I've seen my fair share of her stans try to paint Edelgard as a "scared, lonely girl who's back is against the wall and just wants to make a difference in the world", so her being a man would take that aspect away.
Sothis... again hard to say, considering she's put on a bus just before the timeskip. I don't know how much a shota god yelling in the void of Byleth's brain as opposed to a loli goddess would change the course of the story. What could change is how people might see the relationship between Sothis and Rhea, cuz there are definitely double standards when it comes to detached fathers versus detached mothers.
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hibiscuswrites · 4 years
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Guess who's got (even more) the hots for Rio now? *wink,wink* Can I please request a super fluffy headcanon?Rio falls for yn, whose kid is the new friend of Marcus. they met on the playground one day, her kid and Marcus become inseparable and he's just beyond smitten (she's a single mo, the kids dad didn't want anything to do with them ) which only makes Rio go 1000000% overdrive on protective. what do you think?
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This was so cute I can’t stand it  ���
He loves taking Marcus to the park 
He loves being able to spend time with his son 
To bond and watch him play and be free 
He always keeps an eye though, of course 
So he notices pretty quickly when Marcus is suddenly playing with a new girl
He hasn’t seen the kid around before so he knows the children haven’t met before but that doesn’t stop the two from happily interacting 
Rio watches as Marcus hands the smaller girl his soccer ball for her to play with 
She seems confused and Rio smiles warmly as he watches his son take the ball back and then put it down, showing the little girl as he kicks it softly 
And then they’re off, running around and kicking the ball back and forth, the laughter audible to Rio from the bench he’s sitting on 
He watches as the little girl loses her footing and trips, falling down onto the mulch 
Marcus quickly kneels down and starts to dust her off and help her up, a woman now walking toward the children 
She smiles warmly at Marcus and kneels down, patting him on the shoulder and Rio realizes that it’s the little girl's mom
They have the exact same face, almost like a clone and Rio stands himself to head over himself 
You look up as he nears, smiling yourself while he does the same 
“Hi.” 
“Hi.” 
“Mom, this is Marcus! He’s my new friend!” 
You grinned and nodded, waving to the boy as he does the same, introducing Rio to your daughter and telling him her name
Now with the children's intros done, Rio holds his own hand out to you with a warm smile 
“I’m Chris. Nice to meet you.” 
You tell him your name and he’s looking at you intently, thinking that you’re stunning 
He looks down at your daughter and then squats in front of her
“You ok, lil mama?”
She nods quickly and then looks back to Marcus
“He helped me.”
Rio nods and rubs his sons back 
“I saw. I’m happy you’re ok.” 
The children run off to play together once again and Rio stands back up both of you watching the children play, you and him standing side by side this time 
“You guys new here or...”
You don’t go into too much detail but explain that you’ve lived near, you just moved recently to a nicer place 
You make small talk until you check your watch, knowing that you need to get home and start dinner 
You both round up your kids and they hug each other goodbye, holding on tight as you and Rio smile at the sight 
You wave bye to him and he does the same, walking away as you both hold your children’s hands 
“See you around.” 
And you do 
You make it a habit, the children meeting up every day the rest of that week, running and playing while you and Rio make small talk 
That Thursday, he shoots his shot as you’re all saying goodbye again 
“Maybe we could get coffee or something tomorrow?”
Your smile has his heart beating just a little faster, your nod exciting him
“Yeah, sure. Maybe in the afternoon?”
And it’s a date now, even though neither of you is calling it that
You exchange numbers and make plans, both of you excited when the times comes 
You meet up, alone since the kids are still in school
You sit together, talking and laughing and slowly getting to know each other more and more 
When he learns that you’re doing everything on you own, he can’t help but feel a little more drawn to and protective of you 
“So he’s not in the picture at all?”
You shake your head sadly, looking down at your coffee 
“Nope. He wanted nothing to do with me once I got pregnant. Just sends a check and that’s it.” 
Rio scoffs and you nod in agreement 
“Obviously it makes things much harder without having the help but it’s not even about me. I just wish he would’ve stuck around for her. She deserves to have a dad. All kids do.” 
And Rio’s mind is made up then 
He’s not going to try and take that place or fill that void because he knows that’s not realistic at the moment with how early things are 
But he also knows that he’s stuck on you and that both of you deserve to have a male figure around that you can count on 
That you can feel safe with 
That can help you both feel protected 
And while he doesn’t want to push you, he’s not really prepared to let you or your daughter struggle if he can help 
His mind is already made up and he speaks before he can lose the nerve 
“Well, anything you need, I’m here. If you need help with something in the house or you need to get out and have a break. If you need to talk. If you feel unsafe. Whatever. I’m here. That includes your princess too.” 
And if Rio’s not mistaken, he can see some tears gathering in your eyes as you look at him with a smile 
“I haven’t had anyone treat me this nicely in a long time.” 
And while you just mean it as a thank you, it seals the deal in Rio’s mind 
He’s gonna be there for you and your daughter, to help you both have a better life
And if it develops into something more along the way, he most definitely ain’t gonna complain 
Rio taglist @belle82devart  @existentialvacuum  @hermionetriskatniss  @thickemadame @aria725  @glimmerglittergirl  @juul4jesus  @tashawar   @issa-lici-kuwonu  @tcailin-00  @gemini0410 @sweet-babyangel @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @uhlxis @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @smoooore @asapkyndall @icyyy-diorr @woahitslucyylu @bisexual-space-slut @browngirldominion
General taglist @a-dorky-book-keeper  @jigsawlover10  @titty-teetee @my-rosegold-soul  @felicity-x0 @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @preciousbarakat @elcococruz @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31
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one-boring-person · 4 years
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You Can Be My Wingman (Part Seven)
Pete "Maverick" Mitchel x reader
Warnings: reference to death
Context: (Y/n) and the other Top Gun aviators graduate, and are given deployment.
A/N: This has taken far too long to upload, but here it is! Enjoy!
Masterlist.
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I barely hear the voices around me as the pilots and RIOs chatter amongst themselves, my mind elsewhere. Absentmindedly, I chew on the bitten nails of my hand, a habit I've developed over the last month or so, since Goose died, some form of nervous tick that helps me cope with the situation. To my side, Hawk carefully reaches over and pulls my hand away from my face, smiling reassuringly at me.
"He'll turn up, don't worry." The young RIO promises, adjusting his cap over his mess of tawny hair, golden eyes watching me as I shift in my seat.
"I hope so." I tug at the sleeve of my uniform, the pressed white fabric uncomfortable and hot in the blazing sun, a downfall of graduating outside.
Since the crash, Maverick has not been the same. Unlike me, who was able to pick myself up again and continue flying at a similar standard to before, Pete found it much harder, actively blaming himself for what happened, even after the inquiry board confirmed it was an unlucky accident, meaning he ultimately gave up in the end. When flying, he often pulled away from the battle, muttering "Not good, not good" into the mic, his confidence levels low, almost running dry. Everyone was affected by what happened; Hawk told me he'd even heard Iceman apologising to Maverick, which would never normally have happened, and many others had done the same. My nightmares had gotten worse, Goose and Maverick now joining the corpse of Matthew as he falls into the void, screaming at me, their voices adding to the haunting sounds, but I knew Maverick's were worse. He turned up to training with dark circles under his eyes, his weight decreasing from lack of hunger for food, his interest in doing well fading with it. I'd seen him clasping Goose's dog tags in his hand many times, his thumb idly tracing the engraved words, his conscience unable to let go of the RIO's memory.
I have no idea if he is going to come as I sit there, my mind replaying our short conversation at the airport the night before. I'd had to chase him there, following his motorbike with my own motorcycle, finally catching him in the cafe inside, trying to coax him into coming back, at least to the graduation. I knew I was the only reason he'd stayed for so long; I'd taken it upon myself to help him out of his problems, but somehow it hadn't worked. In my head, I'd thought he would accompany me back to the base, but in reality, he seemed abrupt and unwilling to come back, disregarding my words almost immediately. It hurt thinking about it; I'd come to have much stronger feelings for him and hearing him dismiss me was one of the worst things to face, but I knew he was unbearably upset, so I tried to let it slide.
Someone starts to read out some speech from the stage, the commander looking smart and professional in his own white and black uniform, sharp eyes raking over the graduates proudly. The words enter my ears, unlistened to, my mind unwilling to process them. A couple of lines are said about Matthew and Goose, congratulating their bravery and acknowledging their skill, as well as a quick sentence addressing Maverick and I, despite the former's absence. Finally, the commander announces who has won the trophy.
Unsurprisingly, it is Iceman and Slider, the two going up to claim their prize as everyone cheers. I make the effort to smile wearily at them, clapping with the rest, even though my heart isn't with it. As everyone gets up to speak with them and each other, I do the same, casting my eyes around the area, my gaze landing on a familiar pilot standing at the far end.
"You were right, Hawk." I say, nudging my RIO carefully in the ribs.
Confused, he looks at me before following my sight.
"It would appear so." He replies.
Seeing us, Maverick hesitantly walks over, offering a nod in greeting as he passes, going straight to Iceman and Slider.
He congratulates them, shaking their hands evenly, ignoring the stares from others around them. I step up to do the same, avoiding the lingering gaze of Iceman, making my way over to the drinks stand to pick up a glass of water, finding my mouth suddenly dry. Joining me, Maverick looks me up and down subtly, eyes meeting mine as he picks up a glass of water from beside me.
"Congratulations on graduating, (Y/N). You're a great pilot." He says to me, though his face gives nothing away.
"Thank you, but I'm nowhere near as good as you." I respond, fighting the urge to add "or as good as you used to be" , mentally scolding myself for it.
Scoffing, Maverick looks away, ashamed.
"Don't lie to yourself, (Y/N), you're better than me now than I'll ever be. At least you don't back away from a fight."
I look him in the eye, trying to catch his attention.
"That is the most ridiculous thing you've ever said to me." I point out to him, reaching out to lay my hand on his shoulder. Swallowing, he awkwardly shrugs me off, avoiding my now-hurt gaze. Stepping away, he stands by the pool, alone, unwilling to speak with me or anyone else. Ignoring the pain in my heart from his rejection, I turn away to find Hawk, going to stand with him as he converses with another pilot.
A little while later, Viper's sharp voice interrupts the chatter, his tone professional and serious.
"Pilots, we have orders to deploy four pairs of you to aid the USS Enterprise, as it needs help recovering a stricken ship." The commander tells us, unfolding a sheet of paper in his hands, reading off the names, "Iceman, Hollywood, Quicksilver and Maverick, you have been chosen to defend the ship. We expect you to leave as soon as possible."
"Sir, Maverick's flying has been untrustworthy recently. I don't trust he is well enough to fly." Iceman speaks up, concern crossing his features.
"Maverick will be fine." The commander growls in response, turning to the aviator in question, saying something to him, which draws a curious glance from the young pilot.
Quelling the unease rising in me, I think to the mission ahead. I'd never flown for the Enterprise before, but it would be an interesting experience in any case. Hawk looks determined as he shakes hands with Viper, smiling at me over the commander's shoulder. As the latter turns to me, he offers me his hand, which I take. Looking me in the eye, he congratulates me.
"Good luck, Quicksilver, I'm sure you and Hawk will do well." Leaning in closer, he whispers to me: "Look after Maverick, will you?"
Nodding, I set my jaw and look over at the pilot.
"Of course, sir."
I always will.
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guicas04 · 3 years
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10 Interesting Brazilian Fiction Novels
1.) “I Didn’t Talk” By: Beatriz Bracher
A professor prepares to retire—Gustavo is set to move from Sao Paulo to the countryside, but it isn’t the urban violence he’s fleeing: what he fears most is the violence of his memory. But as he sorts out his papers, the ghosts arrive in full force. He was arrested in 1970 with his brother-in-law Armando: both were vicariously tortured. He was eventually released; Armando was killed. No one is certain that he didn’t turn traitor: I didn’t talk, he tells himself, yet guilt is his lifelong harvest. I Didn’t Talk pits everyone against the protagonist—especially his own brother. The torture never ends, despite his bones having healed and his teeth having been replaced. And to make matters worse, certain details from his shattered memory don’t quite add up... Beatriz Bracher depicts a life where the temperature is lower, there is no music, and much is out of view. I Didn't Talk's pariah’s-eye-view of the forgotten “small” victims powerfully bears witness to their “internal exile.” I didn’t talk, Gustavo tells himself; and as Bracher honors his endless pain, what burns this tour de force so indelibly in the reader’s mind is her intensely controlled voice. 
2.) “The Brothers” By: Milton Hatoum
Set among a Lebanese immigrant community in the Brazilian port of Manaus, The Brothers is the story of identical twins, Yaqub and Omar, whose mutual jealousy is offset only by their love for their mother. But it is Omar who is the object of Zana's Jocasta-like passion, while her husband, Halim, feels her slipping away from him, as their beautiful daughter, RGnia, makes a tragic claim on her brothers' affection.
3.) “Crow Blue” By: Adriana Lisboa
I was thirteen. Being thirteen is like being in the middle of nowhere. Which was accentuated by the fact that I was in the middle of nowhere. In a house that wasn't mine. in a city that wasn't mine, in a country that wasn't mine, with a one-man family that, in spite of the intersections and intentions (all very good), wasn't mine.When her mother dies, thirteen-year-old Vanja is left with no family and no sense of who she is, where she belongs, and what she should do. Determined to find her biological father to fill the void that has so suddenly appeared in her life, Vanja decides to leave Rio de Janeiro to live in Colorado with her stepfather, a former guerrilla notorious for his violent past. From there she goes in search of her biological father, tracing her mother's footsteps and gradually discovering the truth about herself. Rendered in lyrical and passionate prose, Crow Blue is a literary road trip through Brazil and America, and through dark decades of family and political history.
4.) “Child of The Dark” By: The Diary of Carolina Maria de Jesus
A first-hand account of life in the streets of Sao Paulo from 1955 to 1960, details the plight of an artist, writer and single mother of three children who, while living in a hovel, supported her family by digging through the garbage for paper and scraps to sell.
5.) “The Sad End of Policarpo Quaresma” By: Lima Barreto
Policarpo Quaresma - fastidious civil servant, dedicated patriot, self-styled visionary - is a defender of all things Brazilian, full of schemes to improve his beloved homeland. Yet somehow each of his ventures, whether it is petitioning for Brazil's national language to be changed, buying a farm to prove the richness and fertility of the land, or offering support to government forces as they suppress a military revolt - results in ridicule and disaster. Quixotic and hapless, Quaresma's dreams will eventually be his undoing.
6.) “Adultery” By: Paulo Coelho
A woman in her thirties begins to question her seemingly perfect life: she is married to a rich and loving husband, has well-behaved children and a successful newspaper career. Her apathy changes when she interviews a former boyfriend, now a successful politician.
7.) “The Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas” By: Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis
The Posthumous Memoirs of Brás Cubas builds on a macabre conceit—Brás Cubas, already dead, is recounting his adventures from beyond the grave. This vantage point allows Brás Cubas to talk about his life with the kind of blithe irony and callousness only accessible to those who have nothing to lose or gain.Jun 17, 2020
8.) “Lord” By: João Gilberto Noll
As Lord begins, a Brazilian author is arriving at London's Heathrow airport for reasons he doesn't fully understand. Only aware that he has been invited to take part in a mysterious mission, the Brazilian starts to churn with anxiety. Torn between returning home and continuing boldly forward, he becomes absorbed by fears: What if the Englishman who invited him here proves malign? Maybe he won't show up? Or maybe he'll leave the Brazilian lost and adrift in London, with no money or place to stay? Ever more confused and enmeshed in a reality of his own making, the Brazilian wanders more and more through London's immigrant Hackney neighborhood, losing his memory, adopting strange behaviors, experiencing surreal sexual encounters, and developing a powerful fear of ever seeing himself reflected in a mirror.
9.) “Perfect Days’ By: Ralphael Montes
Teo Avelar is a loner. He lives with his paraplegic mother and her dog in Rio de Janeiro, he doesn't have many friends, and the only time he feels honest human emotion is in the presence of his medical school cadaver--that is, until he meets Clarice. She's almost his exact opposite: exotic, spontaneous, unafraid to speak her mind. She's working on a screenplay called Perfect Days about three friends who go on a road trip across Brazil in search of romance. Teo begins to stalk her, first following to her university, then to her home, and when she ultimately rejects him, Teo kidnaps her, and they embark upon their very own twisted odyssey across Brazil, tracing the same route outlined in her screenplay. Through it all, Teo is certain that time is all he needs to prove to Clarice that they are made for each other, that time is all he needs to make her fall in love with him. But as the journey progresses, he keeps digging himself deeper, stopping at nothing to ensure that no one gets in the way of their life together.
10.) “A Cup of Rage” By: Raduan Nassar
A pair of lovers—a young female journalist and an older man who owns an isolated farm in Brazil—spend the night together. The next day they proceed to destroy each other. Amid vitriolic insults and scorching cruelty, their sexual adventure turns into a savage power game between two warring egos. This intense, erotic masterpiece—written by one of Brazil’s most highly regarded modernists—explores alienation, arrogance, machismo meltdown, the desire to dominate, and the wish to be dominated.
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