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w98pops · 8 months

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I just love how much layers your characters have. I love Aletus. Im really enjoying how he's a good father, sweet guy but a legionary and a coward and its doesnt seem out of place, you write him so good. I would love to see and read more of Aletus. He's great. Not a great person, but a character 4sure. ❤️❤️❤️

TW: MENTIONS OF Menstruation, child marriage, slavery, sex, Aletus being Aletus

Thank you a lot. There is so much Aletus loving lately for some reason, and I'm totally not complaining, I loooove when my characters are loved 😭🙏🙏 I don't really intend much on writing nuanced characters, I don't think they're THAT great, but I'm glad it seems organic and people enjoy it. Aletus is a deeply flawed man and I planned him like that from the start. AND since y'all want more of him for some reason, here's more.

The reason he's not a total anti-hero is probably because I mainly tell and draw my characters from Wendy's perspective. For her, Aletus is a god-like figure. He was always kind and gentle with her, he taught her everything, pretty much, he was there for her always and his opinion matters to her more than anything in the world. She loves him dearly and will never let go of that love. So she tends to dismiss all the bad shit, because she loves him, or because she doesn't know.

I mean, he's a legionary after all. I don't want to spoil all the stuff 😭 because I still want to do SOMETHING with this story. At the very least, an illustrated google doc or something 😭😭😭, but holy fuck is Aletus an awful human being. Not in a cartoonish type of way, like legionaries tend to be, but like. He's an absolute megalomaniac. In a subtle more boring way. He thinks he's better than anyone else and it's his only motivator, most of the time. He thinks he's better than other legionaries, he's better than the enslaved, he's better than the NCR, he's better than Sarah and Wendy. He loves Wendy, genuinely, but. He loves the love she has for him more. Aletus preys on her dependence on him and thrives when she's unhappy. He's not aware of this, of course, it's a deep unconscious thing he just does. Her love make his ego grow, his love makes her miserable. He's never cruel or unjust to her. But Aletus does things that are kinda good on paper, as in reality it fucks up everything.

There's a big fat example, which I referenced many times in my posts, it's the way Wendy "escaped" the Legion. She never really did. She never wanted, she had a normal life, her dad was a privileged man and she never even knew the fact that she was a slave. But as soon as she hit puberty and the whole afab menstruation bullshit started, Aletus just kinda. Kicked her out, crudely speaking. By the laws of fhe Legion as soon as a girl starts to bleed, she has to get married, and Aletus couldn't have that. Not because she's still a child and it's fucking awful, but because If Wendy gets married then she will have all her attention on her husband and Aletus won't be taking up all her mind space all the time. He tried to let her escape like. 2 times. The first time she refused, the second time he physically forced her and ordered to ran away, she came back. She literally had no problem living in the Legion. She was fed, she had toys, she had a loving father and she was safe. Wendy grew up soft and fragile, she wasn't ready for the Wasteland, and Aletus chose to ingore it because HIS DAUGHTER IS IN HER EARLY TEENS SHE CAN'T MARRY, I'D RATHER LET HER BE KILLED BY THE TERRORS OF THE POST-APOCALYPTIC WORLD. I'm laughing at it, but it's kinda still a hard choice. So I don't inherently judge Aletus for the fact that he physically moved Wendy on the caravan he bribed while she was sleeping, so she wouldn't disagree again or find a way back home. But it was one most cruel thing he did to her. Although, Wendy never held a grudge against her dad. She couldn't possibly, even though she should totally. She's not that kind of person.

I think that one of his actions characterises Aletus the most? I mean, this one and the fact that he refused when his ex-lover Noam offered him to escape the Legion with him and Wendy, which was years before her "escape". I don't think I need to explain that one? Aletus is a coward, and he had no reason to leave Legion. Noam was a victim of Caesar's conquest. Aletus chose this life. For all the reasons Wendy refused to leave, by the way. He's a megalomaniac AND a hypocrite.

He's kind of an awful partner too? Not counting Sarah, he's an absolute asshole to Lucullus. I mean, it's Lucullus, but still, when you're in a relationship you typically have some sympathy for your companion. Aletus, on the other hand, sees Lucullus as a tool. Easy access to sex + easy spying on Wendy, no more. Pretty much was with all of his other boyfriends. He just can't bring himself to care for another human being as much as for himself. AGAIN, HIS LOVE FOR WENDY IS REAL. IT'S JUST BURIED UNDER A GAJILLION LAYERS OF CRUSTY EGO. Noam was probably the only one who truly saw Aletus for what he is and made a smart decision: he left.

ALSO, kinda the reason why he neglected Sharky as a child. Sharky looks so much like him, he hates it. He's egotistical, but is lying to himself about it, and through Sharky's eyes he sees himself for what he is, and really really doesn't like it. Also, Sharky was non-verbal and not really interested in nerd stuff that Aletus got Wendy into. Aletus' negligence of his own kid (who he's BIOLOGICALLY related to) was for good, in the end.

Aletus is a coward who can't look in the eyes of his own child and his cowardice is the reason he canonically dies during the Second Battle for Hoover Dam. Wendy comes to him and begs him to leave the Legion with her, she KNOWS that they will lose and he will die, but for Aletus, Legion is all his life. To live past the Legion is to live to face the consequences of his actions, and we can't have that. Again, in the end, his love for self was stronger than love for his daughter. His as does not deserve a good ending 😭🙏

But I still think he's likeable. At the very list. He's a Dante Alighieri fan, very dramatic, but with a good sense of humor. He's smart, cares for Wendy, does silly stuff from time to time, but actually did a LOT for the children that were forcibly recruited and enslaved by the Legion. I don't know If i mentioned in plain this fact, but Aletus is a pre-school teacher by profession :) With a degree in history. He genuinely passionate about teaching and he truly does everything for his students. In the comparison, he's just a good survivalist. There's nothing inherently wrong with being selfish in this hard cruel world and we all make mistakes. Most of them Aletus did unintentionally or out of self-preservation anyway. And we can't all be superheroes and find the courage to face our inner demons, sorry for cheesiness.

I LOVE Aletus. I think he's pretty good in terms of complex morals and writing. I like my dilfs morally grey and miserable.

Thank you for the feedback and giving me a reason to ramble about my favorite idiot!!!!

#asks #oc: aletus #oc: wendy #oc: sharky #a little #also i know that i wrote in wendy's reference that she's illiterate but #i dont think she is. aletus wouldn't let that slide #i dont clearly remember #but i wrote it because i thought it was funny but now i think its cringe and mildly racist so its not canon now #i really need to update her reference huh

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lifesver · 2 days

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@fcused said: ❛ just keep moving. don’t look back. ❜ / probably a traumatizing situation that they are walking away from but. :-]

he asks her how she does it. how she puts one foot in front of the other, even when the whole world was this monstrous. this cruel. just an empty expanse full of skeletons and pointless violence for miles around. something life in a vault never prepared him for, even a little bit. he asks because she's lived her whole life in this place — in reality. while leland had lived his whole life in some sunny daydream. a small, safe fishbowl he was happy to circle for eighteen years of his life. he just hadn't known it, until now. sitting under the dilapidated porch of a pre-war house by the water. with one friend left at the end of the world.

he felt nothing but guilt, when he remembers how he had first looked at old, rundown houses like this. at people like connie, struggling to survive out in the wastes, who stole from each other and pulled their weapons at the drop of a hat. only to find out it was him who was the strange one. only to find out what exactly he was willing to do, when his back was against the wall.

and connie is quiet for a long time as she considers his question, thinking carefully like she does. when she finally looks at him, her answer is measured, uncharacteristically soft; ' you just keep moving. don't look back. ' it's simple, and honest. it's still hard to hear, though. leland wonders how many times she's said it to herself. just keep moving. don't look back. don't look back. there's nothing for you there. if there were things she held close to her heart, and didn't ever tell him. things he might not ever really understand about living up here.

the answers he himself had wanted so badly had come at the cost of shattering that little daydream he had imagined, about coming home to his vault safe and sound. about finding that his memory had gotten it all wrong. he would have introduced connie to everyone. mom would have liked her. april too. he could tell them how much she had done for him. that she had saved his life. that he was glad to have such a good friend. maybe she'd even want to stay with him there, in the vault. where it was safer and kinder than the world up top.

his chest squeezes. he felt stupid, and naive. but connie's known that the whole time, hasn't she? and still, she went along with him. still, she called in favours for him, and made sure he got his answers. as horrible as they turned out to be.

the radio hums through a broken kitchen window, and the storm patters over the failing roof. to leland, it's comforting to know there was still someone out there, across this vast expanse of wasteland, who played songs for anyone who might listen. maybe songs that reminded them of someone, or some time that was better. and as ugly as people could be to one another up here, humanity would still sprout through the cracks, finding a way in the dark.

even when there was no one waiting for you. no more home, except the ones you made with the people around you. leland's eyes turn to watch connie's profile, and the way the porchlight illuminates her sharp lines. eyes flutter with unshed tears. he breathes a laugh, hands wringing between his knees.

❝ you must think i'm really dumb. ❞ for thinking there would be something. for going through all this, just to know he had nothing left. no one, left. he sees the flooded halls of vault 41 behind his eyes when he closes them. the drift of a cafeteria tray, books and fragments of life cut short. how horrible it all looked, in morbid stasis. how the shiny blue of the vault-tec suits were the only way to identify that the corpses had been people he knew at all—

all those people. all that death. they were told they'd always be safe, in the vault. if they just stayed in the vault, it would be alright— he was beginning to lose track of everything he'd been lied to about. ( he misses his mother. he thinks he might be gut-wrenchingly angry at her, too. )

eyes squeeze shut. open again, pinpricked with tears.

❝ thank you, ❞ he manages, roughly. ❝ for. coming with me. for... doing all this, for me. ❞ i don't know if i would have managed alone. i don't know if i would have survived any of this. ❝ it... means a lot. i'm sorry that it was a waste of time. ❞ at least you know, now. at least there's no more useless hoping.

leland stares out at the dark, irradiated sea for a long time, listening to the radio. listening to the waves lapping at the shore. it wasn't so long ago when a tough wastelander girl found a hapless vault-dweller lying out there in the sand. they've already been through so much, together. and leland's warmed slightly by his fondness in the moment. for that tough wastelander girl who told him off so often, who folds her arms and huffs at his jokes. thinks — if he only ever has one friend ever again, he's thankful it's connie.

he turns his head slightly to her;

❝ do you ... ever miss home? ❞ quiet and gentle-eyed; ❝ would you maybe... tell me about it? — if you want to, i mean. ❞

#fallout au kids u make me so sad thanks #ic tbt #fcused

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sepialunaris · 3 years

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Theorizing Amelia and One's backstory based on implicit storytelling

Hmmm infinity train possibly not getting a continuation got me thinking more about Amelia and One-One's implicit story throughout the books. Since the train in Book 4 still works on One's "in a literal sense [the passengers] are numbers to him" and "if they dont sort their problems they'll die here" ideal and not post-Tulip "every passenger's wellbeing and progress is important," the state of the train prior to Ryan and Min is a big mystery, and what specifically happens after to Amelia and One One is another mystery.

I saw @suppuration 's post (which unfortunately can't link since, mobile) about how Book 1 of Infinity Train is about One One experiencing and learning to act as a denizen for Tulip, and while he was mindwiped it must have a big impact to how he does his role as the conductor now and before, when he was just one entity.

Long analysis ahead

One = Simon

Book 4 One reminds me of... Simon. Simon "but you are not a person" Laurent. One is colder and more aloof towards passengers, and seeing them as just "numbers," which is similar to Simon's views at nulls and lack of respect of agency. While he got amnesia and his experience with Tulip made One-One realize his inactiveness has also hindered the purpose of the train as well as a sense of guilt on things that were not his fault (Amelia's cars in the train), he does strive to change, but Amelia still remembers and internalizes what she knows One was in the past, hence she still refers to his old name and had to read his instruction card to remind herself of his new ideals.

Moreover, Book 4 shows Stewards being in charge in train maintenance in the past. Reddit AMA said that in the present the Stewards are almost all destroyed in the coup besides the one Amelia outfitted with weaponry and One One used as transport in Book 2. Book 3 saw One One using humans like Amelia for maintenance, which shows that he is more willing to give agency to the passengers rather than lock them up in place while the Stewards do their jobs. So unlike Simon, there is growth.

Amelia = Hazel, but not really

One conforming to rigid power structure and not really considering anyone's agency like Simon and Pre-Hazel Grace makes Amelia seem like Hazel in this metaphor, which is appropriate that she is her 'clone' or imaginary child. And like Amelia entered One's and life resulting in his mysterious split, Hazel entered Simon and Grace's lives to split them (even if One One dont go separate ways like them, and stayed together) after she experience a personal loss that they caused or 'denied to unreverse' (in Amelia's case). Hazel made them both the chance to question, rethink, and restart their ideals but Simon didn't take it, while Amelia at first tried to give constructive feedback to One before executing the coup and also fell into One's problem of not recognizing others' agencies by 1) throwing away One One and possibly removing his memory 2) forcibly taking away the support system for the passengers to navigate their problems like Ryan and Min-Gi thinking its giving them agency to "individuate" and be on their own, when in the case of Ryan and Min it just reiterated their trauma.

Also her contradictory way of thinking is why in the end Amelia's belief of the other passenger's agency ends up being fallible and destroyed as she becomes more violating and just altogether doesn't want passengers to leave their cars. And I'm highkey convinced that the reason the Ghoms exist (but not in Book 4) is that she created them to prevent people from moving around freely, as there is no therapeutic reason for them to exist (that said the hand monster exists, but it is only in 1 car while Ghoms are numerous and everywhere in the wasteland, so this monster may explain One's aloofness to their wellbeing even further). She does have Ghom orb and used it in Atticus, so its really reasonable to think so. Plus it would be a logical thing that would add up to her numbers a lot and make Samantha the Cat dread her, yet still not make her numbers reach the top like Simon after directly trying to murder his friend.

Amelia's Loss

Though we're not sure because of how little screentime we have of them in Book 4, I do think Ryan and Min-Gi's attempt of staying together is a big foil too for Amelia's experience of abandonment, loss, yearning for the past, and loneliness. Therefore the Steward's first appearance was to reonnect the boys to their past by giving back their stuff, despite Amelia saying that she did that to "individuate" them (this may be directed for all the passengers but in this book's context it is about Min and Ryan's commitment to each other), and the second appearance Amelia specifically says "[they] are on their own." By the lens of Ryan and Min, Amelia is portrayed as a force that desires to separate them, not in a malicious nor personal manner, but maybe a projection of her own trauma of codependency with Alrick and not wanting the same to befall to Ryan and Min (it may also be jealousy but she hasn't shown any displeasure of that sort so it seems more like bad faith analysis) and the pther passengers. And in the end she releases everyone in the train from their 'dependency' by decomissioning the Stewards. Her actions, especially the former does have understandable motives and she isn't intending to harm anyone, but it happens anyway because in the end she disrespects their agency and pulled the whole train from under the rug.

Amelia = Lake & others

And the story of agency is central in Book 2, and how Lake fights for their recognition as a person and getting off from the train, to the point they have to confront One-One about it. It was the first time One One's imperfection is shown and how even now his standards for denizens has gotten better but not the best. Though he does end up respecting their agency and puts thought to it too. And a minor detail is that he mentions Atticus too in Book 2, meaning that he remembers him personally due to his experience as a denizen instead of just an instrument like in Book 4 (eg: Denizens like Kez being frozen kept of the blue during Steward visits), and he appreciates Alan Dracula too. So he did grow, even if its not perfect and his cold tendency and lesser view on denizens is still there. Yet One and Amelia's ideals of hierarchal superiority and the concept that denizens are worth nothing bleeds down to the Apex, who follows Amelia's footsteps after she has decided to refuse her former ideal to "individuate" passengers (as she has already used her outfit when finding Grace and if we think Amelia made the Ghoms then yeah it tracks), as well as Grace and Simon's own coping mechanisms of dealing with traumatic abandonment and loneliness being parallels to Amelia, through manipulating others and intruding on people's agencies respectively.

However, what I find interesting is that, like Lake, Amelia also got to the engine room and got to ask for favors from him. While the context is not clear as well as her lack of companions, if we parallel it to Lake's story and also considering Amelia's fallible interest to humanize the passengers to One, something similar might've happened.

Her story parallels with Ryan too, that wants to subvert expectations within his life even recklessly so at times that ends up hurting people (just like how she took over the train and hurt One and the other passengers), yet he deals with life better even after abandonment by Min. She also parallels heavily with Morgan, who was dependent on Jeremy and tried to isolate herself from her friend, Kez. And the big thing that Amelia lacks in this scenario, unlike Lake and Ryan, is that as said before, the distinct lack of companions she has. No one like Jesse or Min-Gi to ground and provide her company besides her desire for Alrick to come back, and doesn't show interest in forging new relationships and instead focused on her own stuff, just like Morgan grieved when Jeremy was gone. Amelia was both isolated and isolated herself further when she couped the train, and in the end like Morgan she turns from a caring person to someone that revokes agency. Though Morgan, in the end does decide to grieve herself and opens a window for her to reconnect with Kez, unlike Amelia who lost that opportunity and fell further to the dark due to cruel circumstance and her own actions.

And as for the reason why One One was split is mysterious and currently unexplained, Idk if this is an appropriate idea to connect to, but I feel like there's a possibility that he could've split himself or gave himself amnesia, as a way for him to deal with self isolation and or trauma from betrayal. Maybe he was even inspired by seeing Ryan and Min's commitment to each other? But again it is farfetched to judge as something tracks as of now.

Soo... tl;dr what i think happened.

During this era One only interacts with the passengers by maintaining the trains through the Stewards, without consideration of their well being or agency, hence the hand monster/Docent exists

Amelia enters the train and fights her way into the engine room to meet One, possibly asking her stuff back too

One decides to receive input from Amelia, who intends to humanize the passengers to him by giving them back their stuff, while akso taking interest to cultivate independence on the other passengers to avoid codependency like her

Amelia falls back to her dependency and asks One to bring Alrick back, he refuses, and she hijacks the train

As a way to give them freedom, Amelia releases all the passengers the rules the train binds them to and destroys all the Stewards that acted as maintenance before

One is sent to the snow car for 33 years. He is either split or mindwiped by Amelia or he performs this action himself

Amelia's idealism wavers over time and she gets obsessed in find orbs to create Alrick. Becomes more militaristic and creates her Conductor persona, outfitted the last Steward with guns, and created the Ghoms with her cannon

In order to make sure no passengers try any funny stuff and let her focus on her quest, she uses the Ghoms to make sure they are within order, and prefers passengers to no longer leave their cars. She ultimately has no control over that though therefore she can only minimize the problem

Book 1 happens, Amelia is ousted and decides to work under One One as a human steward and to fix her mistakes to repent

Feel free to add on or critique things because I might've missed/misintrepreted a lot

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c-aureus · 3 years

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How I think Hyrule would respond to Zelda's return, after the end of BotW.

Wall of text incoming.

TL;DR: I think they'd be very cruel.

Please remember that these are all only my interpretations and opinions, and should be treated as such.

A while ago, I made a post saying that I do not believe that Zelda or Link should be in any way 'happy' after the end of BotW. Imo, they've both lost too much for that, and I worry that the sequel will not give this grief or loss the focus it deserves.

Now, I plan to expand on that, by explaining my interpretation for how i believe Hyrule would respond to her after her return, which would only further compound their misery.

Now, I'd like to preface this by saying that I actually like BotW Zelda as a character a lot, and that I'm very sympathetic to her.

However... well.

The consequences of her failure are simply too big to ignore imo.

Firstly, as a general overview: Zelda was the ONLY person capable of stopping Ganon. Without her Divine sealing power, there was simply no way for Hyrule to survive Ganon's assault, no matter the preparations, or skill of the warriors. The best example of this is the Champions and Divine Beasts. They were all the best of the absolute best, and yet none of them were able to survive Ganon's assault, simply because they were not Divinely favoured to succeed, the way that Link and Zelda were. Even despite their incredible skill, prowess and dedication. There are other examples too, notably the fall of Hyrule's military outposts, and the annihilation of central Hyrule's civilisation and infrastructure.

To put it simply, with Zelda's power, they won. Without it, all of the preparations were for naught, and everyone would die. Zelda herself even says as much in a cutscene in AoC.

(Also, as a side note, in all of those levels in AoC where you relieve the Akkala Fortress, Great Plateau, and Hateno fort, remember that in BotW, they all fell, and the soldiers would have been slaughtered.)

So, in light of that...

The fact that Zelda only unlocked her power after it was already too late means that I don't believe that the shattered remnants of Hyrule's civilisation would be kind or sympathetic to her.

Link and Zelda were literally born by divine influence to protect Hyrule from Ganon. And, well...

Again, my point comes down to the fact that Zelda only unlocked her power after it was too late for the Champions, Link, and thousands of other Hyruleans who had either already been killed, or who would later die in the aftermath.

Now, again, I'm HIGHLY sympathetic to Zelda here. Indeed, she had lived her entire life with this Sword of Damocles hanging over her.

However. The sword fell.

And, crucially, Zelda avoided it, whilst it went on to kill literally thousands of others. They all died for Zelda's failure, whilst she herself survived.

Furthermore, those 'lucky' ones who did survive had to live in BotW Hyrule, which, if I'm being honest, is an absolute wasteland. So, so much was lost in the Calamity, the land was overrun by monsters, and even the tiny remaining pockets of civilisation suffer. I could go on for hours about how infrastructure, agriculture and trade were all annihilated, but I'll try to refrain for brevity's sake.

The long and short of it is that Hyrule is fucked.

I think my worry about this comes from BotW's post credit scene where Zelda tells Link that she thinks that if everyone works together, they can rebuild, and make Hyrule better than it was before.

And, this line really annoyed me. Because, quite simply, Hyrule has simply lost too much to rebuild. Infrastructure, agriculture, trade, population... Hyrule would be reeling for generations after Link and Zelda's death. To expect any kind of quick recovery is just... foolish beyond words.

(Another side note: I'm extremely grateful to AoC showing just how developed Hyrule is pre-Calamity. It helps give scale and scope to the devastation in BotW even more.)

So, Zelda's naive optimism here annoyed me. However, far more than that, there is another issue that this overlooks:

Namely, I cannot fathom why anyone in Hyrule would want to follow her, or would accept her as their sovereign.

Now, this is going to get extremely cruel to Zelda, and that saddens me, because I like her. This is just what I think the realistic response would be to her, given the circumstances, because people are cruel and like easy targets of blame. There are many examples of this kind of blaming behaviour in history, if anyone wants to look, lol. So apologies in advance:

BotW tells us through the memories that Zelda's reputation is AWFUL Pre-Calamity. Rhoam says that the people call her 'Heir to a Kingdom of Nothing' etc.

Now, perhaps poor parenting aside, this gives more context. Do you really believe that the 'lucky' few survivors of Central Hyrule would be kind, given that Zelda fulfilled their terrible expectations in the WORST possible manner?

No. I believe that that generation, which already disliked her, would spend the rest of their lives cursing her failure, and the death and destruction that came as a consequence. And, they would pass that down to their children and grandchildren.

This comes to another point: Zelda is (for the most part) out of living memory. The only thing Hyrule knows of her is her failure to prevent the land from being devastated. Furthermore, the 4 tribes of Hyrule might even have a decent cause to blame her for the deaths of the Champions.

(Cause and effect are tricky, but well... people are irrational. Maybe if Zelda had unlocked her power straight away, the Champions still would have died. However, perhaps they could have held on long enough for Link and Zelda to force Ganon to recall his Blights to protect himself, as he does in BotW if you attack him without liberating the Divine Beasts. Who is to say? The point is, people get hung up on these kind of 'what ifs', as I am doing right now, lol.)

I'd like to make a special mention of the Zora here, who not only have Zelda (and all of her failures and inadequacies) in living memory, but are also xenophobic towards Hylians.

We see how they blame Link in BotW, after all. I think that they would feel similarly to Zelda, who is 'technically' more deserving of blame.

From a Zora-centric perspective, Zelda may as well have stolen Mipha from them, to make her take the fall for Zelda's failures. She literally set Mipha up to die, she sacrificed Mipha on the altar of her own survival, etc.

To elaborate: Princess Zelda personally requested Mipha, the beloved Crown Princess of the Zora, to become Champion. Despite Dorephan's hesitance, he allows it. Then, Zelda fails her, and Mipha dies in the Calamity that Zelda failed to prevent, but also that Zelda manages to survive.

Like... as harsh, cruel, and unfair as this is to poor Zelda... do you think that the Domain, which is STILL mourning Mipha a century later, would just... wave that away?

Now... how much Zelda is truly to blame for the Calamity is another matter, one that I will explore in a post hopefully shorter than this one. Suffice to say, I have many opinions, and some of the conclusions are perhaps unkind to her, which only further justifies my interpretations of Hyrule's blame, and Zelda's guilt and grief.

The point is that... Hyrule would see an easy target to dump their grief on. And I I don't believe they would just let it go.

Furthermore, Zelda has no political influence anymore. She can't force anyone to listen to her, or obey her commands, since all of that was destroyed in the Calamity. Moreover, with Zelda's reputation being that of colossal failure, I doubt that anyone in Hyrule would wish to submit to her, to give her the chance to fuck everything up again.

God. I feel really horrible typing all of this out, lol. And yet, I genuinely believe that this would be the reaction to her. So, if in the sequel, everything is being rebuilt and everyone is totally happy with Zelda, well...

I'm gonna be very upset. Because, in my opinion, if all of Hyrule just forgave Zelda's failures, and ignored their disastrous consequences, that would be extremely unrealistic.

As much as this headcanon hurts, and would hurt me to see, I'd be very vindicated by it, lol.

If anyone has any opinions, feel free to let me know.

Just please keep everything civil lol. This is only a random person on the internet's opinion.

#botw zelda #botw #post botw #botw2 #loz botw #loz breath of the wild

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cloudyskywars · 3 years

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Old Ghosts

Written for @febuwhump Day 11: Hallucinations. Welcome to Day 11, where I do my best to make you cry with Obi-Wan feels! Featuring sadness with Anakin, Ahskoa, AND Satine! The whole gang is here for this one, folks! TW: There’s like once sentence where there’s a description of a dead body. It is brief, but it is there, so yeah. Enjoy!

Obi-Wan moved through the kitchen, placing a kettle on the stove. When the water began to boil, he poured it into his cup with well practiced movements. Anakin emerged a few moments later.

“Morning, Obi-Wan. What’s the plan for today?” he asked, sitting across from him at the table. Obi-Wan didn’t respond.

Anakin waved his hand in front of his face. “Hello, anyone home?” Obi-Wan’s eyes didn’t move from their focus point across the room. “Are you mad at me or something? What did I do this time? I swear I didn’t mess with your tea stash.” Anakin leaned back and put on his best pouting face, that worked much better when he was 9 then when he was a grown man. “Fine. If you won’t talk to me, I guess I’ll just sit here until you do. You’re supposed to talk to your friends Obi-Wan. Aren’t we friends?”

Obi wan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Go away,” he whispered, barely loud enough to hear. But it was loud enough, for when he glanced up, Anakin’s form blew away with the wind.

_____________________________________________________________

Obi-Wan stood up from his hunched position over the vaporator, and wiped the sweat from his brow. This repair was taking much longer than he had anticipated, and the sweltering heat of Tatooine’s suns were only making things slower.

“Need some help there, Obi-Wan?” he closed his eyes and didn’t turn around, knowing what he’d see. He’d see a young Togruta, smiling her toothy grin at him, head tilted just like Anakin did. Wordlessly, he kept working. She was persistent though, and walked around to where he was forced to see her face.

“C’mon, Master. I’m better at this stuff than you are, let me help.” He finally looked up at her. She looked exactly as she did when he last saw her, which he knew was impossible. Her lekku had lengthened, and her montrals were beginning to reach towards the sky. The markings on her face had elongated, and she lacked the childlike air about her that she had when they first met.

In his heart, he knew there was no chance that she still appeared this way. Her body was probably lying somewhere, filled with blaster holes and decaying without a proper burial. Not real, he told himself. She’s not here anymore. When he continued to ignore her, she sat down next to him and stared at the vaporator’s inner parts.

Ahsoka tilted her head in thought. “Really, Obi-Wan, you’re making this harder than it needs to be. Just move this wire here-” she motioned with her hand. “-and connect it to this plug here. You’re overthinking it.” Taking a closer look, he realized that she was right. He made the correction without acknowledging her, and she huffed.

“Well, maybe after you stop being such a nerfherder, we can spar a bit. It’s been too long since we’ve had the chance to.” This is too much. They hadn’t sparred for ages, not since before she left the Order. And they’d never get the chance to again. Obi-Wan stood up and fled towards his hut, leaving the still-broken vaporator and impossible dreams behind him.

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His hood fell from his shoulders as he walked, but he didn’t bother replacing it. The night air was cool, a pleasant contrast to the burning heat throughout the day. He glanced at the stars.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” a melodic voice said next to him. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let out a breath. Not her, too, he thought. But indeed, when he turned his head, he saw Satine walking next to him, head tilted up at the sky.

“Do you remember when we used to do this, Obi-Wan? It seems so long ago, now.” Yes, yes it does, he agreed silently. She looked at him, and gave him that smile that enamored him so long ago. “We used to dance, too,” she said. Obi-wan couldn’t bring himself to look away from her face. He missed her, so much. A traitorous tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh, Obi,” she said, moving closer. “What’s the matter?”

Her hand came up to his cheek, but it wasn’t truly there. It was nothing more than a featherlight touch, a cruel whisper of what should have been.

“Would you like to dance, Obi-Wan?” she asked. He simply stared in her eyes, enjoying the illusion while it lasted. Satine removed her hand from his cheek, instead holding it out in invitation for him to take. HE shouldn’t. He shouldn’t give into this fantasy, but oh how he wished to. Just once, Obi-Wan thought. I will allow myself to dream, just this once. He slowly extended his hand, reaching to take hers.

But as soon as he touched her hand, Satine’s form vanished and his hand grasped at nothing. His hand fell to his side, and he felt his knees hit the ground.

His cries were the only sound for miles across the desert wasteland.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2021 #febuwhump day 11 #hallucinations #hehe this one is sad #well i tried to make it sad #meant for infinite sadness indeed #obi wan kenobi #star wars #post rots #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #satine kryze #tatooine #my fic

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Note

Hello there , could you do some hc of what kind of parents the companions would be ?🥰i love your writings btw❤

(I love you too!!!)

(I’ve went into a little bit more detail in some other posts with specific characters regarding this and plan to do so with the others! So if these seem too short, just let me know who you specifically want and I’ll probably be able to make you a whole 500+ word list 😂)

Cait:

Cait, for a lack of better words, is apprehensive. From the moment she looked into the eyes of her child, she couldn’t help but be torn inside even more than she already was. How could her parents all those years ago look upon the face of a child like this and be able to be so cruel?

There would be quite a few learning curves for her.

Having a child would probably be the only thing that would make her stop drinking. Chems for you, drinking for your children. It was the hardest thing a person could do, but she’d do it for you and her new family.

Curie:

The typical mother hen type and isn’t afraid to show it.

She values teaching her children the beauty of the life that surrounds them rather than the doomy apocalypse that most others would see in its place. This was their home after all, she wanted them to enjoy it and understand it’s most inner workings.

May or may not suffer from a mild case of Munchausen’s syndrome, but she’ll grow out of it eventually.

Danse:

Worried dad™️.

Tries to be firm and orderly but is really a huge softie for his babies.

Still has decent rules for his kids to follow, for instance..no messing around with guns and all that good stuff.

Deacon:

Is genuinely quite distressed during the early stages of your child’s life, it’s quite the adjustment. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy each and every moment of it though.

Is totally the kind of parent that would let his kids ride on their shoulders.

Really just wants to be the one that allows the kids to do the fun stuff. Please don’t make him the “bad guy”

Gage:

Do NOT leave your child with Gage. He always ends up teaching them something stupid or doing something ridiculous. He ends up being the reason they learn a cuss word.

He’s super over protective over his baby/babies.

Will always be the designated baby holder, somehow having a way with small ones- as soon as they get into his arms, they all seem to calm down.

Hancock:

The coolest dad around.

He firmly believes that while you and him should always be there for your child, the child should be allowed to learn their ways without much interference form either of your own ends.

Totally plays “pirates” with his kids, proceeding to parade them all around Goodneighbor after the game is over.

Macready:

Considering he has some experience, he’s actually pretty dang good at this whole “parenting” thing.

Is honestly a little gullible when it comes to his young ones getting one over on him.

Has the worst time disciplining.

Maxson:

He’s really excited, just in general.

Takes the cake when it comes to being an overprotective dad.

The biggest pushover ever seen. Will even sing lullabies upon their requests.

Nick:

He’s very much so devoted to his family, loving his kids more than anything- more than should even be possible.

Likes to tell (much nicer) versions of work stories to his kids so they know what he does all the time.

Ellie becomes somewhat of an elder sister/maybe aunt like figure for his children.

Old Longfellow:

Pretty mellow in all honesty, or so you think.

Tries to teach his kids from a young age the importance of staying safe and how dangerous it is to go wander out in the fog.

Family fishing trips are an actual thing and they are all lovely experiences.

Piper:

Helicopter mom extraordinaire! A general distrust of anyone and everyone in the wasteland will do that to you though.

Like Mac, she has some experience so she at least halfway knows what is and isn’t a good idea when it comes down to chien behavior

Despite being more “hovering” she really does try her best to make her children at least feel somewhat free.

Preston:

Best storyteller ever.

Tries to teach his children the values of compassion and kindness.

Family user of the phrase “I’m not mad, just disappointed .”

Sturges:

Likes to be a very hands-on kind of parent, working out perfectly when you consider how much you need to leave for adventures.

Makes little toys and trinkets for his babies to play with.

Likes showing his kids how to build and repair certain things- but have no fear! You haven’t caught him with the power tools yet.

X6-88:

A very devoted father.

His baby is now his new mission. Making sure they grow to be happy a new healthy is all he really wants now.

Gets into so much mischief, but you’ll never know.

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everamazingfe · 3 years

Text

You Can Ride On My Rocket 69 - Chapter Ten

Fic Summary: Jeremy has recently awoken in this strange world, 210 ten years after he was put to sleep, and is now the lone survivor from his vault. Trevor's a radio host from Diamond City who's barely left the station, lonely in his own right and isolated from the rest of the Wastes. When they meet, Trevor finally gets a chance to see the rest of the wasteland like he's always wanted, though Jeremy becomes more of his bodyguard than Trevor does his companion. They meet various people along the way, some being friends like the odd throuple they meet in one of the neighboring city, or foe like a certain Diamond City guard. Both are wary about bringing up their pasts, but the wasteland has a strange way of bringing people together.

Chapter Summary: Jeremy and Trevor learn the truth about Vault 111, and Trevor takes a little vacation to Good Neighbor and makes some strange bedfellows. This chapter's song is "Maybe" by The Ink Spots.

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Words in this chapter: 4296 Pairings: Jeremy/Trevor, Michael/Gavin/Lindsay, Jeremy/OC Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of death, minor character injury, alcohol use

Notes: There's a link to the first chapter of this fic as the source of this post! Click it to go read this fic over on A O 3, or you can search up the title or ‘everamazingfe’ on the site! This is also my longest chapter ever, and there’s some art to go along with it, but that’s in a separate post.

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The vault had clearly remained untouched since the pair had last been there, the dust that coated everything undisturbed aside from handprints on the cryopod and dust wiped from the terminal's keyboard. Trevor was back at that terminal, typing and clicking away as if it would get him any closer to accessing the menus hidden behind the password screen. Jeremy stood at the pod, his forehead and hand pressed on the glass.

A groan of frustration came from the computer, followed by a soft thud as the side of the monitor was hit, and Jeremy turned his head. "No good?"

"Nope. No good," Trevor muttered, shaking his head and huffing in frustration. "I'm gonna try and find another terminal, maybe one of the others won't be so broken. Just... Hang out here." He let out another huff as he picked up his bat, leaving the room to explore the vault more. There were radroaches everywhere, but with the mods Jeremy had made to the swatter in his hands, it killed them in one swift hit. He didn't remember there being so many the last time they were there, but maybe they were just getting bold.

Trevor figured his best bet would be the overseer's office, maybe the computer there would have some sort of master control system. He didn't know. Computers weren't really his thing, but he was trying his best to be helpful. He made his way down the hall towards where he figured the overseer's office, but before he reached it, he found another room full of those same pods. That terminal was unharmed, and though he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it held, he looked anyway.

What it held was rather appalling. Whatever malfunction had caused Jeremy's pod to open had shown mercy on him, because he was the only one to make it out of there alive. The cryogenic array and life support systems had long gone offline, and everyone left in the pods had thawed and begun to rot. It was easy to figure out that something similar had happened in the room that held Jeremy's husband's pod, and in every other room in the vault. The realization that he was standing in a room full of corpses, already entombed with their family and friends, made him stagger back, bile rising in his throat. He'd suspected it, but the confirmation was something he wasn't ready for.

The overseer's terminal didn't bring Trevor much better news either. The all-clear that was supposed to come from Vault-Tec never did. The resulting incident, as staff of the vault rioted and overthrew the overseer, was one of chaos and horror. The skeletons littered about the vault had made that clear, but somehow those were easier to stomach. They didn't still look like people, and from the sound of the memos he found, they weren't meant to make it out of the vault alive either.

Trevor let out a long sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face as he tried to process what he'd learned. It was all so much. Vault-Tec was pure evil, that much was certain, and he was glad he never had had to deal with them. The Institute was bad enough as it was. He slid down the desk until he was sitting on the floor, looking over at the skeleton of the overseer nearby. "Were any of these people ever supposed to leave? Were you?"

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Jeremy hadn't budged from the pod since Trevor had left. His eyes were still fixed on it, on his husband inside. The harsh reality of the situation was all around him, but he refused to accept it without concrete proof. The man couldn't be dead. He had fought for years in The Great War, only to die a week after getting home? It just seemed too cruel, Jeremy couldn't accept that as the truth. But he knew that the man inside didn't deserve a life out in the wastes, either. Maybe he was better off in the pod.

"I wish I was still in mine," he whispered, examining the lines of the other man's face. "I wish I could remember you." He put his palm flat on the glass, his fingers curling against it. "I remember us. I remember... Our life. But not you."

Something about coming out of cryofreeze must have fucked his brain up, maybe he'd gone without the life support functions for just a little too long after thawing, before his pod had opened. Or maybe his mind was protecting him from something bad. Jeremy didn't know. But luckily, his eyes still worked fine. At least he could still see him clearly. He inspected him closely, committing his face to memory and filling in the gaps where decay had caused the skin to fade away. The man inside the pod still looked as handsome as he did in all those photos from before the war, in Jeremy's mind. But what was underneath wasn't muscle, or bone.

Jeremy pressed his nose right up against the glass, almost like he was trying to push through it to see better, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"What the hell?" He squinted and looked even closer, and all at once his breath was ripped from his chest.

When he got it back, all he could do was scream.

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"Trevor!"

The pained cry echoed off the walls of the vault, and Trevor's head snapped to attention. It was Jeremy. For a moment, he was excited, thinking that maybe he'd finally gotten the manual release switch to work, but as the other man screamed again, he knew that it was anything but joy in his voice. He'd never run faster, but the vault was maze like and confusing. When he found Jeremy, the man was no longer standing calmly and staring pensively into the pod, but repeatedly punching the glass.

"Jeremy, what-"

"-He's a fucking synth!" Despite Jeremy punching the glass again and again, his knuckles bloodied and bruised, there wasn't a single crack in the surface. "That's not my husband, that's a fucking synth!" Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he hit the glass one last time before he turned to face Trevor. "He's... Trevor, he's..." He choked on his words, covering his face with his hands as he dropped to his knees. "This is worse than him being dead."

Trevor approached slowly, kneeling down in front of him and tentatively putting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder. It was shrugged off, so he decided not to push it. Looking towards the pod, he saw that Jeremy was right. How had they missed it? Wires and metal, all on display. A false bone faceplate and synthetic skin that didn't look quite right upon close inspection. One of the earlier models for sure, the newest ones had no differences from their human counterparts, but he didn't think that they existed before the drop. "That's sick. That's... That's downright disturbing." What business did the Institute have with a Pre-War corpse? "I don't even know what to say." What was there to say? 'Sorry that the man you love turns out not to be a man at all?' Bones were easier to break than that thick glass, especially when Jeremy was the one throwing the punch.

"Was my whole life a lie?" Jeremy took a shuddering breath, trying to keep everything from fading to black around him. "Was he even real? Did he ever even love me?"

"No, no... The Institute... It wasn't around before the bombs. There's no way." Either the man was somehow always a synth, or they came and swapped his body out. But that didn't answer the question of why? What was so special about him that they'd sentence everyone else to death? He realized now that this was probably the source of the malfunction that had doomed the other pods, and they'd probably cut off the manual release to keep anyone from finding out. "He was real when you knew him. I'm sure of that."

Jeremy scoffed. "Great, so then the Institute is a bunch of graverobbers. What are they, the fucking Resurrection Men?"

"I don't know who that is."

"They're... Fuck it, nevermind. We need to find those fuckers." His tears had gone from distraught to furious, his whole body running red hot with anger as his fists clenched at his sides again. The Institute had taken so much from him. They'd taken a peaceful death from him, and now they'd gone and taken away the only thing that had ever made his existence bearable. That hurt more than all the hits he'd taken out in the Commonwealth combined.

"No one knows where they are, Jeremy. Otherwise they would've been taken out decades ago."

"Even better, we'll be the first!"

"Where would we even start?"

"I don't know!" Jeremy was shouting now, standing up abruptly and startling Trevor in the process. Pointing at the pod, Jeremy continued. "He might still be out there! He could be out there, alone and scared and wandering the wastes like I was before I met you, or the Institute could be doing shit to him, and I don't know which is a worse fate. We have to find him." He lowered his hand, hauling Trevor up. "I have to find him."

Trevor just stared down at Jeremy, finding his footing and freeing his arm from his grip. "I don't know if I'm gonna be able to help you."

"Then forget you, I'll do it myself." He started to walk away, but Trevor grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him, and Jeremy met his eyes with a flare.

"Stop! Wait. I meant I don't know how to help you. But... Remember how I told you 'bout how I was brought up by Nick Valentine?" Jeremy nodded, though he was uncertain. "He's a detective, back in Diamond City. He can help you."

"Oh." Jeremy instantly relaxed, his glare being replaced with a softer expression. He'd thought that Trevor meant that he wouldn't help him. "Well, I guess we're going back to the city, then."

"Guess so," Trevor agreed, letting out a sigh. At least Jeremy seemed a bit less worked up now, but he still felt a bit on edge. "All this back and forth is fucking exhausting."

Jeremy nodded in agreement, shaking out his hand and pulling a bundle of gauze from his pocket to wrap it with. "Hey, Trev?" He said once they were back on the elevator platform, looking at the other man for a few long moments before he actually hit the button to take them back up.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. And... Thanks."

Trevor shrugged, looking down at his feet. "That's what friends do, right? Help each other?" He looked back up at Jeremy now, a soft smile on his face. "And when they can't, they point them in the right direction."

"Yeah, exactly. But, uh... We gotta be careful out there, alright? I can't lose you too."

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"I can't lose you too."

The words echoed in Trevor's head as he stared up at the sky. They were camped out in some abandoned house somewhere halfway between Sanctuary Hills and Diamond City, Trevor's own exhaustion nearly making him collapse and Jeremy's injured hand making it hard for him to hold a gun well enough to protect them. The roof was long gone, but the walls were intact enough that they could barricade the holes, and there were some mattresses left on the floor that were perfect for sleeping on. Only, Trevor couldn't sleep. Jeremy was snoring way too loudly beside him for that, and his armor was uncomfortable.

The sky was always so clear, aside from the occasional radiation storm that rolled through, and he wondered if people before the war ever got the chance to appreciate it like this. Jeremy had said no, that the lights of the cities were so bright that you couldn't see the sky anymore, when he'd asked. He couldn't imagine living without being able to see the stars. They'd always brought him some sense of comfort, and if he was a smarter man maybe he would've taken the time to learn their names. But he wasn't, and that information wasn't available to him anymore even if he was.

Trevor let out a sigh and rolled over, his eyes on Jeremy now. The words still replayed in his head, over and over. They had since he'd said them. Maybe he was putting too much meaning into them, but to him it felt like proof that someone finally cared about him. No one ever had before. His parents had abandoned him, leaving him to end up just another Diamond City orphan until Nick took pity on him. Nick had cared for him as much as a synth could, but he'd still said, "My hands are tied," when Trevor had gone to him with complaints about Ian. Everyone in Diamond City shunned him and didn't do anything to protect him, that had all been Jeremy. Because he actually cared about him. And he realized, as he lay there listening to the ambient noise of the wastes and the loud snoring, that he cared about Jeremy too.

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"I'm not going back to Sanctuary again."

"Not asking you to, Trevor."

"But Nick said he wants to go look at the vault, take a look around. So we gotta go back."

"You don't have to go."

"Yes, I do."

The conversation had been going on like this for around ten minutes now, Nick and his assistant Ellie standing by and politely pretending that they weren't eavesdropping. Trevor was reluctant to let Jeremy leave without him, despite being in no shape to travel. Whether it was because he was too scared to be on his own, or too scared that he wouldn't be there to help Jeremy in case things went bad, Trevor didn't know. But regardless, staying in Diamond City without Jeremy sounded terrifying. For all he knew, Ian could be back on duty, just waiting for a chance to catch Trevor alone.

"Look, Trev... You're exhausted. I am too, but... I gotta go back there with him, I have to start trying to get this figured out. And you? You need to rest, I'm sorry but you look awful." Jeremy didn't like the sound of leaving Trevor alone either, but there was really no other choice. He at least had army training under his belt, he could run of too little sleep for far too long if he needed to, but Trevor didn't have that. And, admittedly, he'd been pushing the other man a bit too hard since they'd gotten back out in the Commonwealth. "Look, I'll take you to Goodneighbor, how about that? I'll bribe Michael to keep an eye on you, set you up with enough caps for a room at the Rex. How's that sound?"

"Sounds a lot better than staying here."

Jeremy smiled at that, clapping Trevor on the shoulder. "Great. Nick, I'm gonna go do that, then I'll be back."

"Don't worry about it. Take your time," Nick assured, waving them off. Both he and Ellie watched them as they left, the pair still bickering quietly. When the door shut, he turned to her and spoke. "I'm glad the kid's found a friend, but I thought he had a better head on his shoulders than that."

Ellie shrugged, returning to her desk and writing up a report to go into the case file. "I dunno, Nick. Seemed like they're more than that to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's just..." She smiled. "Intuition, I guess."

"Right. 'Intuition.' Just be careful you don't end up like Piper, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

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Good Neighbor without Jeremy was just boring, Trevor decided. It wasn't the comforting retreat he thought it would be either. Instead of worrying about the people around him, he was just worried about Jeremy. Spending time with Lindsay, Michael, and Gavin at the Third Rail was a decent distraction during the day, but there was nothing like that when he had to go back to the hotel alone.

"You should check out the Memory Den some time," Gavin said one afternoon a few days into his stay, passing Trevor a Nuka Cherry with the cap already off. "Some people like taking a trip down memory lane when the real world stops being interesting enough for them."

Trevor scoffed quietly, taking a long sip from the soda. "Yeah, I'll pass. Most of the memories I've got, I don't wanna revisit."

"Not even your night with Lindsay?"

Trevor spluttered, nearly spilling his drink all over himself as he stared at Gavin in shock, who could only grin wryly back at him. "You know about that?"

"Course I do, it's not like I don't talk to them," he said, chuckling as he popped the top on a Gwinnet Stout for himself. "We're quite close, y'know. The three of us are. We talk. And Lindsay loves to talk about you, they'd been dying for you to some back ever since you left."

"I don't think that's true at all." His cheeks were as red as his soda now, and he just wanted to run away and hide.

"Oh, but it is. You really impressed them." Gavin was getting a great deal of joy out of making Trevor squirm the way he was, and he glanced behind him towards the stairs that Lindsay was coming down right then. He winked at them, putting a finger to his lips when he made eye contact, quickly lowering his hand when Trevor was looking his way again. "So, tell me Trevor-boy. Were they as good of a neighbor as their songs claim? Oh, come on! Don't be shy now."

"Okay, well... Honestly? They were great. I mean, just... So sweet, and so perfect, but... I don't think that's gonna be happening again."

Both Gavin and Lindsay's face fell, and he leaned in close. "Why not?"

Trevor bit his lip nervously, hoping he hadn't upset the other with his response. He swirled his soda around in the bottle, staring down into it before he looked up at him. "I don't think I was that good of a neighbor." Saying that he was dealing with some complicated feelings about Jeremy felt like he'd be confessing too much to someone he barely knew, and it wasn't Lindsay's fault that those feelings had only gotten more complicated since the last time he'd been around.

"Oh, Trevor." Lindsay's voice came from behind him, and they wrapped their arms around him from behind him, making him bristle. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I think you were the best neighbor, but... I'm not against giving you a chance to redeem yourself."

"You... You set me up!" He cried, pointing at Gavin accusingly, but the only response he got was a wink as he knocked back the beer. "This is the worst. You're the worst, Gavin."

Lindsay laughed and unwrapped their arms around him so they could sit on a stool beside him, asking Gavin for a glass of wine when he was done being a dick. "I'm sorry, darlin', but it was just too cute watching you get all flustered like that."

Some version of the same antic happened every day, and he didn't know how he hadn't gotten wise to it at that point. After the fifth day of being in Good Neighbor, he took Lindsay up on their offer of redeeming himself because he just couldn't stand how lonely his hotel room was anymore. It was much the same as the first time they had spent the night together, and it didn't really fill the void.

The next night, Lindsay invited Trevor back to the apartment they shared with Gavin and Michael. Not for sex, but just so he wouldn't be alone at night anymore, because it really seemed to be getting to him. He'd swapped his Nuka Cherry for whatever beer Gavin had on hand, and they'd all started to get concerned. They all considered him a friend, they thought he was sweet and fun to talk to, and he had good choice in music, and they weren't going to let their friend be miserable if they could help it. Trevor was better after that, switching back to soda after his nights were filled with games of Blast Radius instead of listening to his own voice on the radio, staring up at the ceiling because he couldn't see the sky from the window.

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Jeremy wasn't doing much better, either. Nick Valentine, as nice as he was, just wasn't as good company as Trevor. That was his biggest problem with the synth, really. That he wasn't Trevor. The man's voice did play over the radio, but he knew it wasn't the real deal. The real deal was, hopefully, safe in Good Neighbor.

The trip back to Sanctuary had been easy enough, but a tour of the vault didn't really tell Nick anything that Jeremy hadn't already told him about the situation. He'd expected as much, but it didn't hurt to look for any sort of calling card that may have been left behind. Their trip had taken quite a few detours, too, because of Nick wanting some help looking into other cases that he had on the docket. Jeremy had been reluctant to help, but he figured since he was being helped for free, it was the least he could do to pay him back. Once they were back in Nick's office in Diamond City, he relayed the information to Ellie for her to write up and add to the case file, and spoke with her to try and figure out the next step. She said something, and Nick's face lit up, knocking on the desk to get Jeremy's attention.

"Lucky for you, where you're gonna want to go next is where you have to go anyway," Nick said finally, turning to Jeremy, who'd nearly fallen asleep in the chair he was seated in. "In Good Neighbor, there's a place called the Memory Den. People usually use it to try and look back on fond memories, but I think in your case, it may be the key to figuring out what happened while you were on ice."

Jeremy was glad to not have to roam all over the Commonwealth again, and even more excited that he'd get to see Trevor again. Next time, he wasn't going to be leaving him behind. "Great, I'll look into it."

"Come back to me if you get anything useful."

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It was another day at the bar for Trevor, another day wishing that there was something he could use to get in touch with Jeremy somehow. Letters were useless, and he was pretty sure that a Pip-Boy couldn't receive any messages from terminals without being hooked into it.

As usual, he was leaned against the bar, chatting with Gavin who stood next to him, and Michael and Lindsay who were seated on the other side on the stools. The Third Rail wasn't open just yet, but Trevor had taken to helping Gavin get the bar set up and keeping the other two company as they waited for opening time. And though it wasn't open, it seemed like Michael had forgotten to lock the door back up behind them, because heavy footsteps started coming down the steps. The conversation immediately stopped, Trevor and Gavin ducking down below the bar as Michael moved to stand in front of Lindsay.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Trevor heard Michael say, but it wasn't in anger like he'd been expecting. He and Gavin glanced at each other in confusion, the Brit silently reaching to grab a pistol that was stored beneath the counter just in case.

"I'm here for Trevor. Guy at the Rex said he'd been hanging out with you guys lately."

He recognized that voice, and he knocked the gun out of Gavin's hands before popping his head up to confirm what his ears had heard. "Jeremy! You're back."

"You didn't think I'd forgotten about you, did you?" Jeremy asked, a grin spreading across his face when he saw Trevor stand up from behind the bar. Barely a moment passed before Trevor was stepping out from behind the bar, running up to Jeremy and wrapping him in a hug. "Whoa, okay... Guess you did," he laughed, awkwardly raising and lowering his arms a few times before he settled for wrapping them around Trevor, hugging him back tightly.

"No, I didn't, I just... Missed you." The confession made Trevor's cheeks go red, and after a minute he pulled away from the hug. "But... I'm glad you're back. How'd the search go?"

Jeremy made a noncommittal noise, gesturing vaguely. "It was kinda pointless, to be honest. But I know where to go next. Some place called the Memory Den?"

"Oh, well I could have told you that! You didn't need some crackpot gumshoe for that," Gavin said, "That's where I told Trevor he should go when he started getting bored." Michael reached across the counter to thump him across the head. "What? I did!" The ghoul just cut him a look, and Gavin stuck his tongue out at him in response before quieting down.

Trevor cleared his throat, turning back towards Jeremy with a smile. "Hey, at least we know where to go. And it's not very far, either. I bet you're even more sick of wandering around the wastes than I am at this point."

"You've got that right," Jeremy said with a chuckle, heading over to the bar to take a seat and motioning for Trevor to join him. "Mhm. But we're not going there right now. First, I need a drink."

#ragehappy #rpf #treremy #doollins #jeremy/trevor #mavinsay #juggey #gavinsay #mavin #fallout au #fallout 4 au #fic #fanfic #my fic #my writing #everamazingfe

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tiefling-queer · 3 years

Note

For D&D character ask, for any and/or all of your characters;

1, 5, 8, 15, 23, 29, 64, 65, 69(Nice)

i’m gonna answer these for whichever characters have the most interesting answers, skipping some for repeats:

1. why did they choose their class(es)? their subclass(es)?

kip (wizard, school of necromancy): crisis of faith midway through grave cleric training, spurred on by him sucking at the whole cleric thing (9 wisdom babyyy) while also being a nerd (18 int babyyyy)

baylock (shadow sorcerer/rogue): the sorcerer part is a side effect from being born dead during a cataclysmic event that tore portions of the material plane asunder. the rogue part is because he got in with a bad crowd as a kid. he’s been gaining levels in sorcerer as he traverses the freaky magic wasteland, utilizes his magic more, and gets a little closer to death each time someone hits his squishy arcane caster frame too hard

izak (gunslinger, graveslinger): sometimes you’re a jaded teen-equivalent runaway bumming around the river kingdoms and some dude comes up to you and is like ‘im a neutral evil mercenary, but if you take this gun and learn to shoot, i can also be your dad’. and then later you’re a 20-something equivalent who just realized that you don’t actually want to be an evil mercenary so you run away again and this time some dude comes up to you and is like ‘i’m a priest of sarenrae and an exorcist, and if you believe you can be redeemed, i can also be your dad.’ and then you learn how to shoot ghosts so you can be useful while this guy teaches you about being a better person.

5. do they follow a higher power? what are their thoughts on divinity?

izak: (deep lore dump) izak’s family was, at one point, pious people, and it was some ancestor’s warped perception of what piousness is and what was worth sacrificing in the name of good that led to the entire mess that is izak’s face. izak’s a devout worshiper of sarenrae now and hopes to maybe be the assistance someone needs to put themselves on a better path the way brak was for him, but there’s still a part of him that believes that, because he’s a tiefling, he’s never going to really be saved, and that his soul will eventually belong to the asura it was promised to.

8. what are three songs that suit them?

sydel: buckets of blood by rufus rex (tw for self harm, link goes to spotify because i can’t find this track on its own on youtube), thank god that i’m not you by himalayas, and bruises by fox stevenson (full playlist here)

15. do they trust their party? why or why not?

kip: he trusts them with his life, he just doesn’t trust them to understand where he’s coming from. he’s hiding some really heretical opinions that he knows at least maya (the celestial warlock) won’t agree with. he doesn’t like to talk about his family trauma, his past, or anything that he thinks the party can use to cleverly deduce that the notes he’s been scribbling are about raising the dead and theoretical conduits, prices, and replacements for the soul (he’s a little paranoid and might be giving them more credit than they deserve)

baylock: baylock might trust morgran, but he doesn’t trust surina at all, not since she and the (presumed deceased) swashbuckler tried to use him as a scapegoat when they were being interrogated by evil government warlocks. and even then, he only trusts morgran to not leave him for dead. baylock’s a fiercely loyal person by nature, so he’s been trying to keep his party at arms length so he won’t be betrayed again. the closest he came to starting to trust them was right before he found out that they told the evil government warlock that they’d turn him in in exchange for their freedom when they were captured a while back (whether or not they actually intended to do so is irrelevant for baylock - he spent 5 years in prison after being his old thieve’s guild’s fall guy, he’s not about to let it happen again)

23. how do they feel about nicknames, titles, or labels that have been given to them? how do they feel about their name?

kip: kip’s given name is joffric ravenhall. he’s been going by the alias of ‘greenbough’ on the offchance that people have heard of his family or knew his father at some point, since he really doesn’t want to explain why he’s not a priest of the raven queen by now. ‘kip’, however, is what his family and friends call him, so it was a bit of a big deal to him when he told the party to call him kip, since he hadn’t been around anyone he considered family or friend in a few years. kip’s reeling a little bit over suddenly being called an ‘adverturer type’ - to him, he’s still just a transient weirdo who picks up odd jobs.

baylock: baylock craft’s name isn’t actually baylock craft (not yet anyway lol), he stole his late cellmate’s identity to take advantage of the jailbreak that came a few days too late. his name, ekleipsis caldor, isn’t exactly something he identifies with so much as what he was once called. his father never wanted him but got stuck with him when his mother bounced, so ‘caldor’ is more a formality than anything. ‘ekleipsis’ is the greek root of ‘eclipse’, for the eclipse he was born during - but moreso, ‘ekleipsis’ doesn’t mean ‘to be covered’ - it means ‘a disappearance or abandonment’. an event where the sun abandons the sky. baylock is a walking abandonment issue. he hasn’t taken a virtue name because he thinks it’s performative (which is where him officially taking the name ‘baylock craft’ as his name and not the identity of someone he’s pretending to be comes in - it’s the equivalent of naming himself for the virtue of rebellion without naming himself something stupid and embarrassing like ‘rebel’.)

izak: izak just got done being haunted by a ghost wizard who’s obsessed with names, probably because he’s had 4. izak was born dalethiel oakleaf back when he was an elf, but when he ran away after waking up as a tiefling he went by dally. then he was a mercenary for a while and his edgy mercenary name was viper. and then, when asked for his name by the cleric of sarenrae who rescued him in the wilderness, he said he didn’t have one worth giving, so the cleric told him he’d just call him izak then. that’s who izak is now, as far as he’s concerned, or at least who he wants to be. as he told the ghost wizard who tried to torment him with his birth name, that’s not his name anymore. dalethiel oakleaf was a young elf who died on his 50th birthday. izak’s got a perfectly good name, given to him by a kind man, and he doesn’t want to think about the time in his life he went by dally or viper.

karif: karif always introduces himself formally with his full name, in the family-given-familiar name pattern - ‘ixenvari karifgethisk fraurirthos, er, but you can just call me karif.’ this is because karif’s nickname, fraurirthos, the one his childhood friends and family call him, translates from draconic literally to ‘breathes secrets’. his nickname is snitch. he’s a little embarrassed about it. but ‘karifgethisk’ is a bit of a mouthful for those who don’t speak draconic, so shortening it to ‘karif’ suits fine.

29. who would they save? who would they be saved by?

this has been a tough one, i’m not sure how to answer it for anyone.

64. do they value mercy or justice more?

kip: this honestly depends on his mood and your definitions of both ‘mercy’ and ‘justice’. he’s very easily led away by his emotions - both pity and compassion that could sway him to lean more towards mercy, and rage that tends to harden his heart and clear his head. he’s more than down to torture someone if he deems them evil, and he’ll destroy creatures like aberrations, fiends, and undead without a second thought, but he views life as a very precious thing - even when torturing an evil demon-summoning spellcaster, he still was trying to find ways out that resulted in that spellcaster getting out alive. this has come back to bite the party in the ass, since it was kip’s insistance that the party not kill all the guards on their little anarchy stunt that got them blackmailed to infiltrate the evil army of darkness, which is something he most certainly DOES NOT want to do.

65. what is holding them back?

kip: kip’s hang-ups about the soul and how he was raised are holding him back from becoming a stronger necromancer, while his grief and refusal to accept mortality hold him back from possibly still being some flavor of raven queen follower.

baylock: baylock’s hesitance and confusion over what he wants are holding him back from either fully embracing the rebellion or ditching it to get vengence

izak: izak’s self-loathing and fear of himself hold him back from interacting with people and forming meaningful relationships outside of the handful of people who’ve found out he’s a tiefling.

69 (nice): how would they describe their party members?

kip:

maya is... complicated. kip admires her pragmatism and her faith - it reminds him of his older sister, and he’s been missing that rock in his life. however, he butts heads with her a lot, because he finds her cold duty-bound outlook to be pointlessly cruel.

meera is wicked smart and talented, if a little misguided at times. he’s very big brother protective of her, always trying to offer her his dagger because ‘it’s a nice dagger’ (it’s +1)

amity is a good kid, and smarter than some may give him credit for. he’s fun to be around, and usually a level-headed presence, which makes it even more surprising just how ok he is with killing.

baylock:

morgran is an asshole, but is also probably the only person in the group who believes in this whole rebellion thing, so that counts for something. he’s decent people, can probably be trusted to see a mission through and not do anything completely stupid, but since he’s decent people he’s probably going to insist on staying on this path of lunacy with delusions of ‘taking down the Summit’. also, morgran shouldn’t be allowed to talk to anyone they meet, because he’s an asshole, and doesn’t bother pretending to be personable like baylock does.

surina is insane. she’s deranged, like everyone who tries to live outside the sanctums is. also just racist at times. when their cover gets blown or when they get mixed up with people they should be talking down, she’s gonna be the reason they all get killed.

porthos is was an idiot and a liability and just proved him right by running off and doing something rash and probably getting himself killed and also maybe compromising the whole rebellion which baylock doesn’t care about, so why does he feel like he should have done more to stop Porthos’ demise?

#really excited about these questions! thanks anon!#emo poetry #ask games #Anonymous #sorry this one took longer than the others #ask game from 3 billion years ago

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sarcastic-bubble · 4 years

Text

Bounty Hunter

Paring: Sith!Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader x Reader (Basically we just pretending that Anakin didn’t get real crispy at the end of RoTS)

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Well ya see, it’s pure filth. Dubcon, Oral sex (male receiving) It’s also just a little bit trash in general.

Summary: So not really requested just part of my all-out smut war with @sithmyass. But basically, you are a bounty hunter dumb enough to take a job going after Darth Vader.

A/N: I don’t even know what the hell I’m writing anymore. Horny me channels such a different energy that I don’t even know anymore. Also, it’s like one in the morning so this is only half edited.

Masterlist

It was cold. Why the hell would anyone hide somewhere so cold? Especially someone who could take out any foe that came for him. Yet here you were tracking your quarry through a frozen wasteland. But maybe that wasn’t the most ridiculous part. Anyone would call you insane for going after the Sith Lord. You were only a bounty hunter after all and no matter how skilled you were your quarry was still a Sith. And not any Sith; Darth Vader himself; although your employer had referred to him as Anakin.

You weren’t quite sure what had driven you to accept the job in the first place. The pay was good; the man who wanted Anakin dead had very deep pockets. But you supposed it was your curiosity that drove you to accept in the end. You grew up on tales of Sith. They were scary stories of an era long gone and the cruel people who ruled it. They were supposed to be dead, killed off by the Jedi. And then the clones wars started and all of a sudden the Sith had returned.

It was hard not to be curious about a group of warriors that weren’t supposed to exist anymore. Especially one so shrouded in mystery. So, despite all of you better judgment you had taken the job. The job that had lead you to a planet so cold you felt the small hairs in your nose freeze a little more with every breath. The cold was also making you slow, physically and mentally. Your joints were stiff and numb and every thought was interrupted by the harsh shivers that racked your body.

You were so caught up in trying to bring any semblance of warmth back to your fingers and trying to figure out why you got yourself into this that you didn’t notice the men surrounding you. You continued to be oblivious to their presence up to the moment one was jumping you from behind.

You fought back, or well, you tried too. Your reflexes were slowed by the cold and the raging snowstorm made it hard to see anything but what was directly in front of you. As you broke free from the first man you were grabbed by another. This cycle continued for longer than you’d care to admit, and with the size of the group unknown to you there seemed to be no end in sight.

The end did eventually come though, in the form of a harsh electrical shock. Your body seized up, every muscle clenching as tight as it could. Shortly after the world went black.

When woke you were greeted with warmth; something you had so desperately been searching for earlier. It was so pleasant that you considered going back asleep until you remembered the events that had transpired. There was no doubt that your assailants had captured you and moved you here after you lost consciousness. Your eyes opened slowly and you took in your surroundings. You were on a starship. Whether it was grounded or not was impossible to ascertain.

You pushed yourself to your feet, a loud groan escaping from you. Everything hurt. With only your hands’ bound escape seemed possible. You would only need to find your weapons and then escape would be simple.

The cell door hissed open and closed, the quiet sound drawing your attention to it. Leaning against was a man you’d recognize anywhere. You had spent hours staring at his face over the last few weeks and now you had finally found him. There was the small problem of your capture but that did stop a small sense of pride. You had finally found the man who had been eluding you.

You took a step back for every step that he took forward until your back hit the wall. His very presence was intimidating.

“You’ve been chasing me for a while now, haven’t you? It’s nice to finally put a face to the most recent pain in my ass. Care to tell me why you’ve felt the need to track me over several systems?” His voice was smooth and even as he spoke. His eyes, an unnatural yellow, looked you up and down: leaving you to feel self-conscious.

You wanted to disappear into the wall. If you had your weapons you wouldn’t have been afraid. But you didn’t, and you weren’t an idiot. Trying to take the Sith with just your fists would be a death sentence. And with no idea of what his intentions for you were; you just wanted to keep as much distance between you as possible. He didn’t seem to feel the same, his approach continued until he stood within arms reach. He was quite handsome up close. His dark dishevelled hair and the scar down the side of his face grabbed your attention first and then came his charismatic smirk.

But you couldn’t let yourself become distracted, especially not by a man who could kill you without warning. “Does it really matter why I followed you? You’re just going to kill me anyway,” you said, your eyes locked onto him; making note of his every move. If he knew you were a bounty hunter you wouldn’t last another minute. But seeing as he was unaware of that little detail you hoped to be able to dance around the real answer long enough to come up with an escape plan.

“What makes you think that?” His arms crossed but the rest of his posture seemed to relax, and if the tone of his voice meant anything he almost seemed to be amused by your defiance.

“You’re a Sith Lord, arent’ you? Isn’t killing thigs what Sith Lords do?” He was stepping closer to you again but the solid durasteel wall at your back kept you from retreating anymore.

“Sometimes,” His answer seemed to casual, “but not always.” He was close enough that you could feel his breath against your forehead. “Now, are you going to answer my question, or am I going to have to find the answer myself?”

His question went unanswered. You were afraid your voice would betray your nerves. You couldn’t seem weak in front of him. His hand shot out and grabbed your chin; his grip firm and unrelenting. “I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to do this.” Your head was tilted up harshly to face him. His gaze seemed to pierce through you; to see you every thought. Including those at the very back of your mind. The ones that enjoyed how rough he was with you. The thoughts that couldn’t seem to get enough of his smirk. Under his intense gaze, you felt yourself shake. You wanted to look away; to look at anything but him. But his hold your jaw never let up enough for you to move.

His face came closer to yours, once again the duralsteel wall ruining your attempt to retreat backwards. “You like this, don’t you?” He asked, his voice low.

“No, I don’t.” You tried to sound confident in your response but your voice betrayed you; the words coming out broken. Thoughts of escape were becoming naught but a distant dream.

His breathy laugh sent shivers through your body, “you’re curious about the Sith, aren’t you?”

“I-” You were cut off by the grip on your jaw tightening.

“Don’t bother saying anything. I already know the answer” His grip relaxed as he spoke but still remained firm. “Why don’t I reward you for the information you gave me. I let you see a side of a Sith Lord that not many live long enough to see.”

“Why… why would you offer me anything?” The words were quiet and uncertain.

The laugh that escaped his ever smirking lips was darker this time, “I’m just looking for an excuse to fuck you. It’s not often a have a pretty girl like you completely at my mercy.”

You wanted to run more than before, well most of you wanted to run. There was still that one part of your mind that reacted to everything he said. And it was telling you to stay and let him have his way with you. “But--”

He stopped you again. “Don’t bother fighting, sweetheart. I’ve seen your mind. Even if you won’t say it out loud,” his face moved closer again; his lips hovering next to your ear. His voice dropped to a whisper, “I know you want it too.” He caught your earlobe between his teeth, pleased by the surprised gasp he was able to pull from you.

His face was in front of yours again, “from now I’ll do all the talking. Do you understand?”

You nodded slowly. Your fear only seemed to fuel the lust that had begun to cloud his expression.

He looked you up and down, taking his time to make note of your every curve. “It’s too bad I don’t have more time, you really are a pretty thing. I’d love to take my time with you. I can already imagine what it would be like to have you squirming underneath me. Maybe I’ll save you for later.”

The sane part of your mind loved the idea of him ‘saving you for later’. It would give you time to escape. There would never have to be a ‘later’. But that irrational part, that was gaining more control with each word he spoke, wanted him, now. You rubbed your legs together in a search of some sort of friction. Anakin noticed.

“But what sort of person would I be if I got you all worked up just to leave.” His fingers dipped below the hem of your pants. There was very little regard for your clothing as he removed your pants and bottoms in one fluid motion. You heard ripping but with your cunt freshly exposed it was the least of your worries. You moved your legs together subconsciously earing you a disapproving looking from your captor. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His hands were rough as he guided your legs apart.

You closed your eyes in fear, and anticipation, of what he would do next. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed throughout the small room as his hand met you sex in a sharp slap. It was followed by the sound of you whining from the sudden pain. You didn’t notice his face move next to yours again. Nor did you notice that his lips were brushing against the outer shell of your ear until he spoke. “That’s for trying to hide from me.”

His fingers dipped into your still stinging cunt. They only lingered there long enough to coat themselves in your arousal. He lifted the had to his face to admire the glistening fingers before slipping them into his mouth. The fight of him sucking them clean was obscene yet it only made you wetter; made that rational side of your mind scream even louder, you needed to run. But you couldn’t, his free hand kept you pinned tight against the wall.

“So wet for me. I didn’t expect you to be such a filthy little slut and sluts like you need to be punished.” Anakin paused taking a moment to choose his next words or rather your punishment. His spit covered fingers traced your jaw before slipping themselves between your lips. They still tasted like you. “No cumming until I say so. Do you understand me, sweetheart?”

Once again you nodded and that’s all it took for his fingers to slip from your mouth to your dripping cunt. They were slow at first, working the area around your clit in methodical yet teasing circles. Every time you thought his fingers were finally going to brush over that sensitive bundle of nerves they would move off in another direction. With every whine that escaped you, he would chuckle quietly and roughly kiss the sensitive skin of your neck; always succeeding in pulling another moan from your lips.

His slow and gentle actions didn’t last for long. You felt a finger slip inside you only a moment later it was joined by another. His thrusts were harsh and fast, each punctuated with a crook of his fingers. You weren’t sure when he added a third, you were so focused on holding back the impending orgasm. With every motion, it came closer; became harder to resist. Yet you had too, you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t wait for his permission.

It never did come. His actions became quicker, his hand that had been keeping you held against the wall found a new home working on your clit. You couldn’t stop it anymore so you tried to hide it. With a hard bite to your lower lip, you were able to stifle your moans. But nothing could hide the way you came hard around his fingers. You could see his smirk grow through your clouded vision, this seemed to have all been a part of the plan.

“Did I give you permission?” You felt a sharp sting in your cheek as he slapped you. “I don’t think I did. Now, what should I do with you?” You were fairly certain he already had something in mind. He worked quickly at the closure on his pants. Once undone the hem was pulled just enough to let his hard cock come free. The tip was glistening with precum, he had enjoyed teasing you. “Look at the mess you made.” He whipped what was left of you on his fingers onto his cock. Once satisfied he turned his attention back to you cunt.

You tried to move away from his touch, the feeling of his cock sliding through your folds becoming more unwelcome as that rational side of your mind was able to take control again. But whenever you tried to move a hand was there to keep you in place. He rubbed himself against you until he had collected all that was leftover from your orgasm. He took a step back making it easier for you to get a glimpse of what he had been trying to achieve.

Anakin’s eye’s met yours.”Get on your knees and clean it up.” His voice was demanding and the hand on your shoulder pushing you downwards left you with little choice. You opened your mouth to tell him to stop; to leave you alone. But the second your lips separated his length was forcing its way into your mouth. His hands were quick to find your hair; grabbing it roughly and using it to pull your unwilling mouth up and down the length of his cock. When the pain became too much you submitted. Your tongue worked against him trying to clean off every last bit of yourself from him. No doubt leaving even the smallest drop of your cum would lead to further punishment.

He didn’t give you any warning before cumming in your mouth. But as he did you could hear him say “Swallow it.” The words were almost lost in his low moans. You didn’t dare defy him.

He removed himself from your mouth and tucked his cock back into his pants. He crouched down, his face now level with yours. “You’re such a good little slut.” His thumb traced your lower lip in an oddly soothing manner.

He slapped your face lightly as he stood. The cell door opened for his as soon as he stepped up to it. Before stepping fully through he shot you one more teasing smirk. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable, sweetheart. I’m hardly done with you.”

The door hissed closed behind Anakin-- or Darth Vader; you never did find out which he preferred to go by-- leaving you in darkness with a fear that you may come to learn more about the Sith than you ever expected.

Taglist: @psionicsnow @wishiwasanavenger

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars #anakin skywalker

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nathalie-sancoeur-assistant · 5 years

Text

Chat Blanc

I’m finally ready to post my Chat Blanc analysis now that I’ve my thoughts sorted out. Beware, there are going to be spoilers below and probably a lot of speculation on the Agreste family (and when I say “Agreste Family” that includes Nathalie and possibly Gorilla). I’m going to be using screenshots from youtube w/ english subs.

First off we have this

This further cements the idea that I’ve said before- that Gabriel doesn’t just want to bring Emilie back, but fix something that happened. Granted the mistake they made is likely the exact thing that sent Emilie comatose, but the fact still stands that he’s not just looking to wake her up. He’s looking to change the past so that she never fell ill to begin with.

Now we have that cute scene with the girls hyping up Marinette, Nathalie denying Marinette’s present, and Ladybug busting in. Which....idk that just seems really stupid. I get it, she’s 14 but she’s also proven she has critical thinking skills. She could have waited till the next day, or outside the Agreste gates until the car came up (Adrien would have rolled down his window for her), there were other solutions but I guess Marinette hasn’t always gotten an A+ for patience. But this girl, she takes it to far and all I can do is shake my head

The only reason you get a pass for this is cause you’re still learning what’s appropriate and not.

And I don’t think I have to explain why this is sad. He just wants his dad to be even a little proud, but he never gets to see his reaction or receive the praise he needs because his dad is “busy”. Can’t even spare a solid thirty seconds for Adrien to pop his head in and say “Father I won!” “That’s great son!”

Then cut to Marinette stuffing her face in Adrien’s pillow and I just I can’t. Sigh.

And props to Adrien for being smarter than we gave him credit for. And then we get to this scene...

Where we first see Chat Blanc and you can tell....he’s clearly unstable. You can just tell, from the moment he’s on screen singing to himself that there is something off and Adrien Agreste has left the building. I think that speaks numbers about the psychological trauma he’s been through regarding what went down in this episode. They displayed it perfectly in the most gut-wrenching way. You’re already fearful for Chat/Adrien just due to how he’s acting because you can tell by that alone, akuma or no, that something went terribly awry.

And now he wants her miraculous

Not because of his dad’s influence, though the initial goal of the akuma is probably terribly overwhelming. How long has he actually been there in this wasteland by himself? It’s practically clad in white and almost looks frozen. You can tell Chat Blanc brought on all of this from the beginning (obviously) but my point is that it even has a signature mark on it by the color scheme being off. It genuinely feels like an altered version of reality, or a separate universe (which it can’t be can it? Since Chat Blanc was going to destroy the whole universe, making Bunnyx panic. Does that mean there really is only one universe? Because I feel like in a world with multiple timelines that could occur that there would be more of a multiverse. Anyway...

This poor child...

He’s being torn between two different worlds in every way. And he doesn’t deserve it. We get to see glimpses of Adrien in between Chat Blanc. THIS is Adrien asking her to save him. But then Chat Blanc is back in the next scene.

I genuinely thought that perhaps Hawkmoth had sent his akuma into Chat/Adrien’s heart. But it was more symbolically than literally. Imagine how messed up that could be, if he could akumatize someone by the heart. How would they get the akuma out then? It would be a matter of actually being able to convince the person to let the akuma go. But Chat/Adrien has had so much happen that his emotions were already so high and intense, imagine how intense it must be now? It’s literally pushed him to the brink of insanity! Thinking about it though,.insanity at this point is likely the only survival tactic he has. How else could be handle being alone, completely and utterly alone? And for how long? How long would he had to have had to mull this over from where he started out as Chat Blanc, being able to fight against the akuma even a bit so that he didn’t directly harm Ladybug/Marinette. How long would he have needed to come up with “This is Chat Blanc. Chat Blanc did this, not me, Adrien, Chat Noir- it was Chat Blanc using my hands to destroy Paris” and develop this outlook so that he didn’t just completely give up. How long has he been fighting? The torture that came with that akuma likely isn’t going to go away once he forgets it. It’s just...this poor kid. He’s trying his best.

And here I think I appreciated Marinette’s hair being down just as much as the next person but I’m kinda curious as to why? It was in pigtails just moments before so why is it suddenly down- what prompted her to take it down and just keep it down? I feel like it represents the change in the timelines. Especially since we don’t see her with pigtails again in that universe.

“I finally understand that you’re not just a friend. I always felt that there was something more...” so in other words- he loves both sides of Ladybug completely. He would love Marinette without Ladybug. He has always had this underlying affection for Marinette that is completely unlike the feelings he has for his other friends but he’s suppressing it in order to not feel unfaithful or something in regards to his feelings for Ladybug. He wants to be genuine, and now that he knows that his feelings aren’t going to cause him any kind of discourse (when it comes to Marinette VS Ladybug) he can openly express and acknowledge his feelings for Marinette and Ladybug alike.

Please appriciate that Marinette has to stand on her tiptoes because her boyfriend is a tol smol.

And THAT is why Chat Blanc wants her miraculous. He isn’t thinking straight- he’s not able to think “if I give up the akuma Ladybug can use her Lucky Charm to fix everything” because he’s still swallowed up with the akuma, the command from his father to get her miraculous. And at this point he’s to tired to resist fighting her.

Yikes, someone’s getting jealous. Also, appriciate the fact that Marinette, in that scene, literally leaps into his arms. How long have they been dating at this point? This is likely only a few days after, once enough time has gone by for word to spread.

Luka says “Adrinette rights”.

I feel like some more time has been passing between these scenes. Not a ton, but a significant amount. After all, Adrien would hardly have enough to go on an icecream date and dance with his girlfriend at a friend’s place in the same week, wouldn’t he?

“It was so amazing, until Hawkmoth found out everything”- really. They seem euphoric. And Adrien finally has something that is making him genuinely happy and helping him get through everything he’s already had to go through. Then we get hit with this...

Side note- Nathalie is tol, Sabine is smol. Back on track- what the actual- are you actually serious? Gabriel is....he’s actually doing that? Perhaps it wouldn’t be QUITE so bad if it was him simply being an over protective dad, if Marinette weren’t a well-behaved aspiring fashion designer that could benefit both him and her in the future, you know, something bad was actually going on but no...Gabriel is just making her end the relationship....for an akuma. He is bullying and forcing a 14 year old girl totally head-over-heels and love-struck with his son m, someone who is actually giving Adrien a happy place....does he not already know what it’s like to be forcibly separated from the person you hold dear? He lost his wife so now Adrien has to lose his girlfriend because “it’ll save your mother” or some ish- no! There are other ways to get powerful akumas!!! You don’t have to be so selfish as to put your own son through something similar to your own heartbreak (I mean Marinette is up and healthy and everything but it’s still forcibly removing them from each other’s grasp and selfishly taking away his son’s love interest to revive his own). You want to manufacture an akuma? Fine. Get Lila. Or target literally anyone else besides your son’s girlfriend and her family. Your son has found a way to be happy and move on without his mother being by his side every day. Either you learn how to do that too or you don’t uproot the happiness he has found to “replace” it . Because you CAN’T replace what he’s found You can add to it, if his mother really can come back without harming him or someone else he loves. But not at the expense of what he’s made for himself. That is cruel, and I genuinely thought better of you. I’m deeply disappointed. Again, if this was because Adrien’s judgement was actually questionable and Marinette had a bad record, I could understand it more. But it isn’t because hes looking out for him, it’s purely for an akuma, no regard for Adrien. And I dunno exactly how willing Nathalie was in this situation but that’s a whole other post I made a day or so ago. We can’t judge her based on the few clips we’ve seen of the future, but we can judge Gabriel because there is no good excuse for it.

She sounds so heartbroken when he tells her to break up with him too. Because she really hasn’t done anything wrong. If this is the case, then she never actually had a real chance with Adrien because his father wouldn’t have allowed it regardless of how much they liked each other. And once again he used the threat of taking him out of school, something incredibly important to Adrien, to manipulate someone who genuinely cares about him to be selfless enough to comply with him. He’s counting on other people caring about Adrien more than him to get his way. This is not only emotionally abusing Adrien, but Marinette as well. And there’s nothing anyone can do about it outside of Gabriel himself.

And this heartbreak is so different from that act when Chat rejected her. That probably adds fuel to the fire with her parent’s. They can tell from her reaction that Chat was probably just a phase she was having but with Adrien, she genuinely loves and cares for him. She just wants to be with him and make him happy. You can tell that she already knows what she’s going to do simply because of how heartbroken and hopeless her cry sounds. There is NO justifiable reason for this.

And this is part of the reason why I want to know how long they’ve been together at this point. I can see current Gabriel doing this, but if he hadn’t done what he does later on (which feels very out of character as I’ve addressed in a previous post I believe) then something else would have happened to tell him that maybe perhaps he did go to far and needs to apologize. If only he hadn’t taken it to the extent further down, this could have all been resolved. (Also, you can’t tell me that the news reporting that Gabriel made Adrien and Marinette break up after having reported about how star-struck they were wouldn’t put more damage on the company than Marinette leaping into Adrien’s arms in public...)

Nathalie and the Gorilla aren’t much help in this scenario either. I mean, think about it.

They both very obviously care about Adrien, and they have both done things for Adrien to make his life easier, help him be happy. They both seem to see him as a son to themselves as well. But they both get to see how Adrien is treated day in and day out. There are cameras all over that house, I can only assume- so there would be plenty of evidence of the neglect going down.

So...why, pray tell, have neither of them done anything? Oh Nathalie we know why, but what’s stopping the Gorilla? Don’t tell me he actually thinks that Adrien is better off in this environment? He sees what happens every day- if he’s mute, does he not know sign language? Or how to write? If he actually can’t talk then he could still write out a letter to the authorities. Is it because he doesn’t want Adrien to go into some kind of foster care system, be taken away from him, or have to go live with Felix? Tell me there’s something more going on preventing the Gorilla/Nathalie from actually taking action and doing something besides their jobs and not wanting to separate Adrien and Gabriel.

She doesn’t even question her feelings for him even after finding out he’s Chat. And she probably knows that he knows that what she just said about not loving him was bogus, but I don’t think he ever figured out why she did it.

And look at this.

Here, Nathalie looks sad, heartbroken and almost shocked, while Gabriel is harshly calling for her from the phone.

And here her expression changes, only slightly. The first one, she saw Chat Noir and Adrien as one and was shocked that he that they were one in the same, and sad likely about the fact that he was fighting against his father. This one, is the moment of realization. Her eyes got wider, that look of dread really set in. This is where she realizes that not only is he fighting against his own father, but realizing what he’s fighting against, how many times he almost got killed because of it all (outside of the times Adrien has been the direct target of an akuma) and how she herself has fought against him in hand-to-hand combat and tried to hurt him. That is a look of pure regret. It’s all in her eyes.

And even here, her eyes shift ever so slightly, and she looks like she’s not even looking at anything anymore and trying to process that she has been actively hurting Adrien in her attempt to bring his family back together. Physically.

Then when she really tells Gabriel, she doesn’t seem quite hesitant per se, but she sounds like she has to actually say it to believe it and thinks that if Gabriel knows, something might change. I doubt she actually thinks he’ll totally stop trying to get the miraculous (because we don’t know how much time has passed here and it seems he gets more and more desperate and with each passing day and less likely to quit as time goes on) but I do definitely think that her intentions with telling Gabriel this, like all others, were good. She wasn’t trying to hurt Adrien further. She was doing what she thought was best because I think that she thought that if Gabriel knew he was fighting his own son he’d question himself again, stop fighting him and actively physically hurting him, just do something other than what he actually does. She sees good in Gabriel otherwise she wouldn’t be in love with him. Heck I’m not in love with him and I saw good in him. Never in my wildest dreams did I actually suspect he would have reacted the way he did- especially with how he acted in Gorizilla! Sure in that episode he was still pretty awful, I mean who tosses their son off a building, but at least he actually seemed to care, he seemed like he’d be emotionally torn if Adrien had actually transformed- which is why I think that Gabriel isn’t necessarily entirely there anymore. I mean...look at this. Really look at it.

There is a shock factor there, for a moment it actually seems as if Gabriel might be about to reconsider...

What the frick happened

I don’t recall seeing him smile quite like that previously. His reaction is “Chat is my son? Well then I’ll take his miraculous!” and it’s nothing like what we see in Gorizilla. Something here has changed- something changed in Gabriel, the household. It just doesn’t seem right. Where is the Gabriel from before? Where are the nose holes for his mask? Why does he not have any nose holes, does he mouth-breath? Man Hawkmoth really is evil if he mouth breaths. I’m getting off topic- but this is why I want to know how long Marinette and Adrien were together before this. Something had to have happened to make him unstable didn’t it? I just can’t see how that is Gabriel. I can’t see how that would be his true reaction. Perhaps my perception of him is just severely muddled. Maybe I had more faith in him than I should have.

...wow. He really did accidentally kill them. Two people he loves, obliterated because one doesn’t know when to stop.

Now here is an interesting scene. They fell directly from above, which tells me that Hawkmoth’s lair is directly above Emilie’s coffin room. Which must then mean that his office is above both on them? How very interesting. Now- how did they know where to find Hawkmoth. Watch that entire scene, you are given no hints....

Unless we are.

Mayura/Nathalie isn’t there. It’s very out of character for her to not help Gabriel, isn’t it? How much later is this from when Hawkmoth found Chat’s identity? I’ll say a week? A few days? I can’t see how Nathalie would be able to actively fight against Ladybug and Chat Noir knowing who Chat was. Her and Gabriel definitely spoke about it if it is a day or so after. After being told he was going to continue, I don’t think she reacted very happily. She isn’t fighting against Adrien.

That being said they’re also in the Agreste house. They already ruled Gabriel out of being Hawkmoth long ago, so why would they suspect him again? What could have given it away? Sure. she’s calling him Hawkmoth, but why would she respectfully call him “Mr. Agreste” or awkwardly call him “Gabriel”? Hawkmoth is much easier considering that’s who he is. If he wasn’t willing to stop or at least tone it all down for Adrien’s sake, then he was obviously doing all this for his own selfish purposes and was never out to help his family. No good could come of it, so I think it’s just barely possible that perhaps Nathalie decided it wasn’t worth it and found some way to contact Ladybug or tell Chat Noir/Adrien where Hawkmoth could be found. If it isn’t a few days after, then Nathalie hearing how Gabriel reacted, maybe she ran out through the front doors to tell them. All I know here is that there is a time skip of undetermined length and Mayura isn’t present in this episode at all.

This look of utter delight....if Nathalie did tell them where Hawkmoth was, she obviously said nothing about him knowing Chat’s identity or why Gabriel was doing it. Perhaps she knew that would make it harder to stop him for Adrien, if he knew what was going on? She can’t predict the future- But it comes as such a shock. I do believe they know that Gabriel is Hawkmoth and who they’re fighting against in this scene simply because how could you be inside the house of a world-famous fashion designer and not recognize that while you’re going in? How would they have found him otherwise? There has been no evidence to my knowledge that would have backed up them going after him and suspecting him again to the point they actually go inside his house. Why were we not told how they found out? Was the puzzle just to long or are we supposed to continue seeing a certain character in a grey light? We were NEVER told how they found out who he is or where his lair is! He’s able to use his knowledge of who Chat is though, to shock him long enough to press the “reveal my wife” button. When he says “Dear Adrien”, Chat doesn’t ask “Father?!” he asks “How did you know?!”. then he sees his mom

He doesn’t ask if Hawkmoth is Gabriel. He makes no move to seem to try to figure out “Why does Hawkmoth have my mom in his basement”. Sure, it’d be pretty obvious to anyone but he doesn’t even hardly have time to think “If my mom is here then this must be my father”. No, he just never suspected that his mother would be so close.

“I’m doing this all for her Adrien”

And Adrien then proceeds not to ask anything about his dad. He knows that’s him. He just asks “Why” over and over. He’s in so much emotional turmoil from this alone that he almost seems to cataclysm his dad, but I don’t think he even actually had that intention.

what

WHAT

WHAT THE HECK?!

HOW IS THAT ALLOWED IN A TV-Y7 SHOW?!

deep breaths, deep breaths, calm yourself, Self.

Then the next scene, Chat is fearfully crawling away from his own father. In actual fear. Gabriel is actually completely okay with what he’s doing, justifying it by saying “this is for us” but it isn’t. Not once he’s gone that far. If you have to beat your child into submission, it’s not for their own good. I hope it never actually goes that far, but let’s continue.

What he’s saying is basically telling Adrien that he’s been fighting against bringing his own mother back, he doesn’t want to hear that him and his lady are capable, have BEEN capable, of bringing his mother back to him. This goes to prove that IF Emilie is bad, Adrien wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would put a similar psychological torture on him as this did and idk about you but I don’t think Gabenath is worth Adrien’s mental health (I still very much ship Gabenath don’t get me wrong but if Adrien is going to suffer like that to make it happen then I’m not so sure it’s worth it.). The amount of emotional manipulation in these couple of minutes is too disgusting to put into words.

“If she loved you as much as she says she’d save your mother”- does that mean he’s now also aware that Marinette is Ladybug? Seriously, what happened during this time skip?? Did Ladybug and Chat Noir start openly dating so they could still be together as heroes even if they weren’t together as civilians?

It gets to the point where the boy can’t stand it. He needs to be left alone. He needs to process everything- how is he supposed to know what’s right and wrong when he has two people he loves dearly telling him to do two very different things? Does he save his mother and join his father? Does he listen to ladybug, spare someone else the price of Emilie and follow her into their future?

The delight on Gabriel’s face as he sends his akuma into Chat is just....it’s unthinkable. How can he be enjoying this when it seemed to hurt him so much to toss him from a roof? I don’t understand. It doesn’t make sense! The only way I can make any sense of it would be if Gabriel had just completely lost his mind! He feels so OOC! Something had to have happened to make him go this far. He has to be severely emotionally unwell and distanced from Adrien if he’s actually okay with this- and if he doesn’t have the critical thinking skills to think “Hey, maybe someone who’s this traumatized shouldn’t have the power of unlimited destruction. Maybe just be able to use his power multiple times.” then idk he’s a complete fool. At least this version is anyway. I can’t believe him.

This is not okay.

How can he stand there and watch his own son, in pain, struggling because he doesn’t understand what he needs to do anymore and just grin??

“Obey me!”

I’ve had my parents tell me to listen to them, to do as they say, quote the 5th commandment at me and things like that, but obey? In such a harsh tone? To obey could almost be interpreted as having to listen because they are your master. Slaves obey.

How they do the facial expressions so well...is just artful, I must admit. Even if they do tear my heart out piece by piece.

And perhaps Chat Blanc taking the blow for himself did something to damage his psyche even more than it already was. Perhaps that helped to paint the unstable Chat Blanc we’re introduced to.

“It wasn’t my fault”

That’s right baby, it wasn’t. You’re a victim of cruel circumstance. You’re completely innocent and I hope you genuinely believe that.

But seriously, Hawkmoth’s lack of understanding of what emotional turmoil can do and giving a distressed child the power of total destruction...yeah. Imagine being single-handedly the reason the entire freaking universe got wiped out.

---

What makes everything even worse is that now Marinette thinks she can’t trust Adrien with her secret. She thinks he blabbed and Chat found out her identity (still not piecing together that Chat is Adrien). That must be a rather hard potential truth to take. When in reality, he never said anything and she could trust him completely. And her erasing the signature

means the Chat Blanc Timeline never happened. Which puts everything back at square one. All that abuse...it never actually happened. It was a potential outcome of the future and it never actually occurred because it was fixed. We got to see a potential result of the identity reveal, we got to see the way Future Hawkmoth would have reacted- but what about current Gabriel? It feels like all that happened a decent way into the future, at least long enough for something to happen for Gabriel to go further down his rabbit hole. How different are the potential versions of Gabriel and the current Gabriel? I still want to hold out hope that he can change for the better. Adrien has been through enough as it is, he doesn’t need his father to hit him, emotionally manipulate and traumatize him.

This episode i feel like simultaneously showed a worst case scenario, why a reveal would be dangerous, why Adrinette probably wouldn’t happen even if Adrien liked Marinette like that, and how far things could go downhill if the reveal happened in the wrong place, at the wrong time. In this case it just absolutely obliterated the chances of Adrien having a loving family again, unless part of Gabriel’s wish erased what he had just done to Adrien. With the erasure of the Chat Blanc future, there is potential for Gabriel, I think, since Chat Blanc never happened. Since he never actually did it, I don’t know how to feel. On one hand he never did it and therefore could have potential to turn around, but on the other, that timeline showed what he could be capable of in the right situation.

I’m walking a thin line on a lonely road when it comes to Gabriel Agreste. I’m skipping rope with the line. And one last thing...

Alix is going to do something to prove herself in the future. You can tell by this scene. I wonder what it is?

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

Text

ASoUE REWRITE - Season 1; The Miserable Mill - Part i.iii

⇢ Klaus x Reader⇠

*not my gif*

As the children walked back to the mill, Klaus brought up what had been mentioned earlier.

"Did you say he only pays the workers in coupons?"

"It's true. We are all paid in coupons, but it doesn't matter, we don't have any money to use the coupons with. I tried bringing up such matters, including the gum with Sir but he got mad at me and threatened to kick me out."

"That's awful."

"I know that you have nowhere else to go, but why doesn't anybody else leave?" Violet asked.

"They are quite weird about that." Y/n seeming to recall something.

Before Y/n could elaborate any further, the children found themselves back at the mill, and the four reluctantly got back to work.

They worked in silence for quite a while. Eventually, Violet looked up at her brother and noticed the familiar look on his face.

"You're thinking something."

Y/n, who was working on the very same log as the eldest Baudelaire siblings, couldn't help but hear their conversation, but nevertheless, continued to work.

"The new foreman. Phil said he just showed up last night. What if he's Count Olaf and being a foreman's his new disguise?"

"He is cruel like Count Olaf," Violet admitted. "but Count Olaf runs a horrible theatre company, not a lumber mill."

"But isn't it suspicious how we never see his face? And we only ever hear his voice over the loudspeaker."

"The mill is noisy. Besides, it's probably the only way anyone could ever hear him. I know what you're trying to do."

"Keep us safe."

"Find a reason to leave. And we will, I promise, as soon as we clear our parent's names."

Y/n focused all her attention on the log, feeling this wasn't something she had the right to hear.

"I... I need a new debarker." Klaus mumbled.

Leaving his sisters and Yn to continue the current log, Klaus decided to do a little investigating himself.

Upon approaching the foreman, he had noticed that the man was sleeping, his left leg resting just outside the booth.

Klaus moved quickly and he swiftly took a knee up against the booth. Cautiously, he reached his hand for the foreman's pant leg and slowly tried to raise it up, checking for a familiar eye tattoo.

The pant leg had barely moved when the snoring foreman, twitched in his sleep causing Klaus to jump himself. He froze, staring at the foreman for only a few moments, before attempting to move the pant leg once more.

Suddenly, the foreman woke with a start, frightening Klaus who removed his hand and jumped to his feet.

"What are you doing, Midget?"

"I... need a new debarker."

"Spoiled brat wants a new debarker. Old rusty one isn't good enough for him, eh? They're over there, rich boy."

The foreman extended his left arm and it was then that Klaus saw the long and awkward over-extension of the man's arm. The arm was completely covered by the uniform and long rubber glove, and it was the kind of length of arm one would have if their hands were missing and replaced with long metal hooks. Just like one of Count Olaf's most faithful theatre troupe members.

"Wait..." Klaus mumbled the familiar sensation of his pounding heart was setting in.

Klaus was thrown to the ground before he knew what hit him, which in this case, was the large rubber boot belonging to the foreman, who had kicked him to the ground, rather harshly. Winded and still quite confused, the foreman took the opportunity to step forward and with his rather large rubber boot, he stepped right on Klaus' glasses, cracking the lenses.

"Whoops!" He said, before, coincidentally, lumbering back into his booth.

"Klaus!" Violet cried.

She had looked over just in time to see the foreman kick her brother to the ground, and step on something. Y/n, who grabbed Sunny per her request, was quick to follow.

"Klaus! Are you hurt?" Y/n asked, still holding Sunny who was peering down at her brother in concern.

"No, I don't think so. Just caught off guard."

"You're glasses, they're--" Violet began.

"Twisted,"

"Cracked,"

"Hopelessly broken," Said the crowd of lumber workers who had gathered around the scene.

"They Look A-okay to me." Said Phil, giving an optimistic thumbs up.

Klaus had stood up and had to hold his glasses on with one hand. One of the arms of the glasses was missing and both lenses were completely cracked.

Violet turned to the crowd to explain. "The foreman kicked him and stepped on his glasses!"

"How can I kick him when I'm up in this booth?" Came the voice of the foreman, from his booth. "It was probably karma."

"Can you see?" Y/n asked.

"A little," Klaus said squinting, still holding his glasses on with one hand.

"He'll live. Get back to work." Barked the foreman.

The lumber workers scattered, aside from Y/n, the Baudelaires and Phil who scoffed, which came out as more of a wheeze as he kindly gestured to Klaus. "He can't work if he can't see. He needs an optometrist."

The foreman didn't seem to care. He merely shrugged his large shoulders and returned to his booth. Phil turned to Klaus and the others and put a hand on Klaus' shoulder. "Lucky for you, we've got a great one right here in what's left of our town."

"You mean the building shaped like an eye?" Klaus asked, warily.

"Oh, yeah, Dr. Orwell treats all the workers. You probably saw the coupon in your welcome packet. I better get you there."

Klaus looked between his sisters and his friend. "I'll be fine. Maybe I can find some answers."

"Maybe we can find some answers too." Violet smiled, sharing a hopeful look with Y/n and then Sunny.

"We better hurry. And we have to be careful this time. Good luck, Klaus." Y/n said, and with that, the three girls turned and left.

Klaus didn't know what was worse. Having to go to the eye building, or being separated from his friend and sisters. But one thing was certain. The further the girls were, the more the pit in his stomach grew, and the more danger he was in.

+ + +

Reluctantly, he followed Phil and before long, Klaus Baudelaire was standing before the building shaped like an eye. Peering up at the tall, ominous building, he recalled a piece of knowledge from a popular book he once read.

"In the book The Great Gatsby, there's a famous sign shaped like a pair of eyeglasses." He said, peering up at the wooden sign shaped like a pair of eyeglasses that hung off the side of the building.

"Does it represent an optometrist?" Phil asked, curious.

"It represents the eyes of God staring down and judging society as a moral wasteland."

"Oh, that sounds like a fun book," Phil chirped.

"Listen..." He said, extending an arm to Klaus once more. "I know going to the doctor can be scary. But doctors are your friends. Come on." He said cheerfully, guiding Klaus inside the eye-shaped building.

Phil was wrong, of course. As anyone who's been to a doctor knows, doctors are not necessarily your friends, any more than butchers, mail deliverers, or refrigerator repair people are your friends. Especially, if any of these such people are conspiring with a villain who is after your fortune.

+ + +

Meanwhile, Sunny, Y/n, and Violet had managed to sneak away from their station and into the library across from Sir's office.

"We better hurry, before the foreman realizes we're gone," Violet said, her voice lowered.

The three ladies had noticed Sir's office doors were wide open, but the office was thankfully empty.

"Or before Sir gets back." Y/n pointed out.

"We better get to work," Violet said, heading for a nearby shelf.

"Here you are Sunny. Thank you for trusting me to carry you," Y/n said, resting little baby Sunny on one of the armchairs.

"Yeeba," Sunny said, which meant something like, "And thank you!"

Y/n smiled timidly and looked to Violet who quickly translated, as she walked along scanning the books on the shelves.

"They're all The History of Lucky Smells Lumbermill. Who would want so many copies of the same book?" Violet said.

Y/n reached up and grabbed a copy of The History of Lucky Smells Lumbermill and the two girls looked to the back cover.

"Of course," Mumbled Yn.

There on the back cover was a photo of Sir surrounded in his usual cloud of smoke you could hardly make him out. Below his photograph were the words "About The Author". Yn shook her head and quickly brought the book to the table, and began flipping through the pages.

"Do you think we will ever be able to find anything on the Paltryville fire?" Y/n asked as she quickly skimmed the pages.

"Whenever Klaus reads a long, difficult book, the first thing he does is read the table of contents," Violet said.

Y/n nodded, turning to the front of the large book, finally landing on the table of contents. She ran her finger down the list of chapters.

"Let's see," the word 'fire' in particular caught her eye. "Here it is, chapter 12. The Paltryville Fire."

Violet could hear the rather large lump forming in her friend's throat as she spoke. She felt awful dredging up her friends past.

"Y/n, I'm sorry," she began.

Y/n smiled weakly. "Thank you, Violet, but it's alright, really. I meant it when I said I want to help clear your parent's names,"

Violet nodded appreciatively, and the girls returned to the book and flipped to chapter twelve, their hearts pounding.

What they found is not what they were expecting. The entire page was inked out. It looked as if someone had gone through with a permanent marker and covered the entire page, save for five simple words.

"'The Baudelaires were unequivocally responsible...'" Violet read aloud for Sunny who was still in the chair. "The rest is crossed out."

"This can't be in all the books, can it?" Y/n asked.

"Only one way to find out,"

The two young girls began pulling books off the shelf and opening them to chapter twelve. Book after book, looked exactly the same as the first.

Minutes ticked by that felt like hours as the girls dumped book after book on the table. And yet, just as their hope was wearing thin, the seventeenth book Violet pulled off the shelf was flipped open to chapter twelve, and sure enough, there laid an untouched book.

"This one's not crossed out!" Violet cried, grabbing Sunny and Y/n's attention.

Just as the two older girls were about to read the entry, a loud thud echoed down the hall, followed by the sound of heavy boots trudging down the hall.

"Hide!" Whispered Y/n.

Violet abandoned the book in order to grab Sunny and the three girls were able to duck behind the leather chair just in the nick of time. A phrase which here means, mere seconds before Sir poked his smoked covered nose in the library when he noticed all the books that were off the shelves.

From where she was crouched, Y/n was able to peek over the leather armchair unnoticed. She watched as Sir inspected the open books, the only one that remained untouched to be exact, and the frown that crossed his features. He turned the book around to look at what it was open to and upon recognition, he glanced over his shoulder making sure no one watching. And with his one free hand, he ripped the page right out of the book, folded it up, and tucked it in his jacket pocket before walking away.

Sighing heavily, Y/n sat down on her knees facing the Baudelaire girls. "Oh, no! He took the page! I'm so sorry," She whispered.

"What are you sorry for?" Violet asked.

"I could've done something. I could have grabbed it," Y/n felt awful her friends didn't have that information.

Violet smiled weakly. "I could have too. But that's not what matters right now. We need to get out of here, and quickly."

Y/n nodded firmly in agreement. It was then that Violet and Y/n looked to the youngest Baudelaire who spoke up, grabbing their attention.

"Yuba," which meant, "Found something."

Sunny pointed to a rather large book with very fancy decorations. It was titled, 'Very Functional Dictionary' in large gold letters.

"A dictionary. But why are you showing this to us? You can't read." Violet asked gently.

Y/n opened up the very function dictionary and found a note scribbled in the front that Violet noticed.

The quote that Sunny found scrawled on the inside cover has been said by many associates over the years. It goes...

"'In every library, there is a single book that can answer the question that burns like a fire in the mind.'" Violet read aloud.

It wasn't the quote that caught Sunny's eye, nor was it the reference to fire that set Violet's heart racing. It was the handwriting. For when Violet saw the strong left lean of L's, and the confident closed loop of the O's, she knew who wrote it even before she saw the name on the library checkout card.

"Bertrand Baudelaire," Violet murmured wistfully. "Father!"

"Da-da!" Sunny exclaimed softly.

Y/n smiled fondly, happy to see her friends have this small moment of peace. But she couldn't quite shake the feeling of familiarity at that passage.

Where had she heard it before?

+ + +

Sir was examining the papers at his desk, cigar in hand - and mouth - when Charles had brought him his goat cheese and beef jerky omelet.

"They're good children," Charles said to his partner. "I don't see why we have to lie to them. The truth is right there in your book."

"Not anymore," grumbled Sir, pulling out the page he had previously confiscated. "I had it redacted."

"Sir, you defaced your own book?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"Charles, we made certain deals to keep this mill open." Sir said, rising from his desk and stepping towards his partner. "And if she wants us to cover up the truth and blame the fire on the Baudelaires, well... that's the cost of doing business."

Sir was opposite Charles, his voice grew serious.

"This mill is all I have, Charles." He crumpled up the missing page of the Paltryville fire and threw it into the lit fireplace, and it roared. "And you."

Sir rested his hand on Charles's left shoulder, looking into his eyes. "Of course I have you." He gave his partner a smile and a pat on the cheek.

Unfortunately, Charles had mistaken the mood and leaned in but Sir had already turned away and left his office.

Unable to shake the pang of guilt and responsibility, Charles took the opportunity of his partner's absence to salvage the torn page that Sir had thrown into the fireplace.

And yet, something the two men failed to have noticed in that short passage of time, was the three young girls who had been stuck in the library since Sir's return and overheard their exchange before escaping the library.

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pickalilywrites · 5 years

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if your taking requests again could you do rivetra got or medieval au?

asoiaf au is so juicy

When Winter Comes

Rivetra. ASOIAF AU.

2120 words.

Buy me a ko-fi!

Petra shivers as she climbs up the Wall’s stone steps. Even the thick fur coat wrapped around her shoulders cannot protect her from the harsh, wintry winds. Her short ginger hair, which had been braided and wound tightly against her head, has come undone from the wind. She wishes to reach up and tuck her hair behind her ears at the very least, but that would require her hands to leave the warmth of her pockets and she’d rather keep them where they are. Instead, she bears with the terrible cold, keeping her gaze on the ground so that she need not face the wind head-on. She walks up the steps, making sure to avoid the black patches of ice that have formed on the stairs, but it’s difficult to see in the dark of night. She tells herself that it will soon be over—all she must do is deliver a letter to the man on the top of the Wall and she can return to the warmth of her room—but she’s uncertain whether she’ll be able to finish her task without freezing to death first.

When she reaches the top, she sees the man she is looking for immediately. He stands a distance away. He stands so still that he could be a statue. For a moment, Petra is afraid that he has frozen to death standing up here, but when she comes closer, she sees the clouds of white that escape his lips when he breathes. She wonders why he isn’t frozen over from standing out on the Wall. He must be unbothered by the cold, she thinks, because he hasn’t even bothered to shake off the frost that has formed on his winter coat. He must be inhuman to be able to withstand such brutal weather. She has only been up here a moment, but she cannot stand being here another second. The walk up here should have warmed her up a little, but Petra feels colder than ever since reaching the top.

Petra approaches the captain of the Night’s Watch, reaching into her coat and clutching the letter that was kept in the inside pocket. As she nears him, she shouts so that she can be heard over the howling wind. “Captain Ackerman!” she calls. She tries to stop her shivering, but it’s impossible with the wind and snow. “Commander Zackly requested that I deliver this letter to you, sir.”

In the few months that she has been a part of the Night’s Watch, Petra has never seen the captain up close. When she had first enlisted, she had thought it was strange that the others looked at the short, dark-haired man with such respect. It was only when she heard that his name was Ackerman—not just Ackerman, but Levi Ackerman, the very same one that had once served in the Kingsguard five years ago—that she understood why others stared at him in awe and fear. Now he turns to her, his gray eyes even harsher and colder than the winter wind, and she finds herself trembling beneath his intense stare, the cold forgotten.

She holds out the letter to him, her hand shaking as she does so. He continues to look at her, his gaze never breaking even as he takes the envelope from her.

It’s only after the captain has received his letter that he turns away from the soldier. He returns his gaze back to where it was—staring out past the Wall towards the direction of the kingdom Paradis—and snaps open the wax seal without looking. He looks down to read the cursive script written on the page, reading slowly as if not to miss any details.

Petra watches as he reads, wondering how he can be comfortable out here in the freezing cold. All of the other guards on the Night’s Watch are tucked away in their rooms, taking advantage of the warm fires burning in the fireplaces as the snowstorm rages on. Even the captains, save for Captain Ackerman, have retreated to their offices. In truth, there really is no need for anyone to patrol the Walls, especially at this time of night. The last time the Walls had been breached had been a few hundred years ago, although all tales of it are only told by word of mouth or in songs. It may as well be a legend at this point, which makes patrolling the Walls even more unnecessary. However, Petra finds it even stranger that the captain keeps his gaze towards the kingdom rather than the land beyond the Walls. Should there be any danger to the kingdom, it would most likely come from the outside, not within Paradis itself. She has noticed him gazing towards the kingdom more than once when she was doing her own patrols. She had simply thought he was bored at staring at a barren wasteland of ice, preferring to gaze upon the distant kingdom at the edge of the horizon, but now that she has been able to observe him up alone and up close, it doesn’t look as if he’s watching the kingdom. It’s as if he’s waiting for something to happen.

“You’re excused.” His voice, deep and rough, startles Petra. When she looks up, she sees that he has finished reading the letter and has tucked it away in his coat pocket.

“Thank you, Captain,” Petra says, giving her superior a quick bow. She raises her head and is about to turn, eager to return to her room, but she stops to look back at the captain. He’s gone back to staring back at the kingdom, his body as still as a statue, and she can’t stop herself from asking, “Sir, what is it that you’re looking at?”

The captain turns his head, looking at her with his cool, gray eyes and she finds herself shivering once more. After a moment, he asks, “What is your name?”

“M-my name is Ral, sir,” Petra says, her lip quivering. She hopes that it’s not apparent that she is intimidated by his glare. She tries to disguise her fear by holding her head up high and meeting his gaze, but every second she stares into his eyes makes her want to look away. “Petra Ral, a ranger on the Night’s Watch. I enlisted a few months ago.”

“You’re quite young,” he says, never looking away. He looks her up and down, from her frosted-tipped boots to her ginger hair coming loose from her braids. “Are you a summer child, Ral?”

The phrase surprises her, for it is one she has not heard in a long time. The last time she had heard anyone utter the words “summer child” was when she as a but a girl herself. The old folk had used it to describe the children who had not yet experienced war, famine, or any such tragedy. Some that had suffered during the Little Rebellion are occasionally referred to as children of winter, the name used to refer to those less fortunate than those blessed with summer, but the event had been so brief and meaningless that those few are oft forgotten. Petra herself had not been born when the events of the Little Rebellion had transpired—in fact, her family had remained relatively untouched during the events of the rebellion—but she feels strange at being referred to as a child.

“I assure you, sir, that I am not a child, summer or otherwise,” she replies a little indignantly. “I am a woman of the Night’s Watch. I have held a sword in my hand, have pledged my life for the kingdom, and have endured this cruel and harsh winter. I am not a child of any sort.” She knows better than to let her temper get the best of her, but she dislikes being thought of as a child. There is no doubt that the captain will scold her for her insolence, she thinks, but she’s surprised when his face breaks out in a smile.

“The cruel and harsh winter?” the captain repeats, amused. He must be mocking her with his smile, but she can’t help but be captivated by it. Somehow, he looks less frightening when he smiles. “This is not winter, but a small bout of wind. If you believe this little storm difficult to bear, will you be ready when winter comes?”

She feels her cheeks flush red with embarrassment, but she knows the captain is correct. Now that she thinks about it, she hasn’t seen a single snowflake fall since she had arrived up North. The wind, blowing the snow and ice every which way, only gives the illusion of snow falling. If this is merely a windstorm, she hates to imagine what a real snowstorm would be like on the Walls.

The captain has already turned back to his watch, looking out at the kingdom. Any trace of his smile is now gone, replaced with a pensive frown. Petra remains beside him, wondering what it is he watches so carefully, and he speaks again. “Do not take my words as an insult, Ral. There are things that summer children are not aware of simply because they have not experienced it,” he says. “Sometimes it is even the case that a summer child knows even less than they had when they were younger, but that is because the world has led them to believe such lies. Lies like monsters no longer exist beyond the Walls, or that harsh winds are the same as winter itself. Or the belief that danger only comes from outside the Walls.”

It takes her a moment to understand what he’s saying, but her eyes widen as she realizes what he’s suggesting. Had he said this within Paradis, he might have been arrested for treason, but she can’t imagine repeating his words to anyone else. She wonders why it is he is this way—cautious and careful, always watching the kingdom. It feels as if he’s been waiting for something to happen for a while. Yet when Petra looks at the kingdom herself, she cannot see anything that would signal an oncoming storm. She had been a part of that kingdom only a few months before, and the captain had not stepped foot from the Walls in ten years, but why is he so confident that he knows more about it than she does? Is it that she is too naive and inexperienced to know better? Is she really the summer child that he believes her to be?

“You should go back,” the captain tells her. His voice is so quiet that she almost doesn’t hear it over the howling of the wind. “It’s warmer inside.”

Petra purses her lips. “It’s fine,” she tells him. She takes her place beside him, facing forward towards Paradis. “It’s just a little wind. If I can’t handle this, then how will I be prepared for when winter comes?” The guard looks over at the captain, and she sees the corner of his mouth curl upward.

“Then brace yourself, Ral,” he says, “for the winters up North are especially cruel.”

They say nothing more. Instead, they watch the distant Paradis sitting on the horizon. If Petra concentrates, she can see past the flurry of snow and make out the little shadow of the grand Tybur castle, which is far larger and grandiose up close. It’s difficult to imagine anything ominous happening behind the walls of such a beautiful and extravagant building. Had someone suggested this to her earlier, Petra would have trembled, but now she stands still as she gazes upon the distant palace. She prays that whatever darkness the captain believes lurks inside the castle never sees the light of day.

She’s unsure when she had fallen asleep. She hadn’t even been aware that her eyes were closing or that drowsiness was overtaking her. All Petra knows is that one moment she was gazing upon the Tybur castle one moment and the next she was waking in one of the chambers within the Walls, a fire crackling in the fireplace nearby. She is also unaware of how she had moved from the top of the Wall to this chamber, although she has a vague idea from the extra coat that has been draped around her.

Petra sits up, wrapping the coat around her. When she brings it closer, it smells of frost and snow and ice, but it’s warm to the touch. She digs her fingers into it and buries her face in the thick fur coat, breathing in the scent. Somehow, it’s so much warmer than her own coat, but she can’t help wondering if it will be able to keep her warm when the winter comes.

#rivetra #petra ral #levi ackerman #snk #asoiaf au #anon #anonymous #asks #answered #requests #i need to think of a name for this series haha

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hearthandhomewitchery · 5 years

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A Witch Watches: Tidying Up with Marie Kondo

First, I’ve decided to shorten this to A Witch Watches, because really HGTV is a wasteland at this point and I rarely watch it anymore. But there are lots of great home/garden/cooking shows elsewhere I want to talk about.

Second, anyone who follows my blog knows my absolute disdain for minimalism and might therefore suspect that I would absolutely hate this show. They might look at the clutterbitch and cottagecore that makes up a good part of my feed and wait gleefully for me to rip into her.

Well, they would be wrong.

I have to admit, I wasn’t too interested in her book when it came out and had really little interest at first in the show. I had watched shows like Hoarders and Clean House enough to know that they were always a bit painful for me to watch. It was always the same--some well-meaning “organization expert” asking some poor soul when was the last time they used something or wore something and then tossing into a sell or throw out pile, while you could see the person’s heart break just a little.

However, the buzz around the show grew and grew. And it was, indirectly, related to the stuff I talk about here. So I figured I would give it a go, steeling myself for more misery, prepared to hate it.

I loved it! SO MUCH!

But before talking about why I love it, I want to address why I think she’s gotten so much hate. First, there is a very racist/xenophobic component that lots of others have addressed much better than I could.

The other is that early on the whole minimalism “movement” latched on to her as one of their own. For those who find the movement classist and cruel, it is easy to dismiss anyone associated with them as the same. Even I made that mistake in my post on Clutter vs. Junk.

While Kondo’s personal aesthetic is minimalist, that isn’t her purpose. Her method is about learning to connect to the things you do have and be thoughtful about them. I found her approach was much more in line with my own approach than what I had previously come across.

So onto what I love about Marie Kondo:

Emphasis on the spiritual connection to our homes and belongings.

Kondo starts every session by kneeling on the floor, spending time connecting to house and asking permission to tidy it up. She encourages her clients to thank the items they are removing. There is throughout the show and emphasis on the energy the items we surround ourselves with and how it affects us. Hearth and home witchcraft places a special emphasis on our spiritual connection to our homes. I’ve previously pointed to the Japanese cultural connection to the home and its spiritual connotations when talking about my Ghibli influences. So, it was nice to see Kondo try and introduce the concept to a western audience.

It’s not about usefulness.

Rather than the typical “Do you use this?” type questions I’ve seen other de-clutterers use, Konda asks two simple questions “Does this spark joy?” and “Do you see this as part of your future?” The first question acknowledges that we have a connection to our possessions beyond usefulness. Indeed, Kondo breaks down her tidying into different categories and sentimental items get their own category.

The second question helps look at purpose, rather the “usefulness”. It gets to the why of the person is holding onto it. The one that really spoke to me was the guy who collected sneakers. He had a roomful of expensive shoes he had collected over the years and never worn. On most shows, the expert would have told him to get rid of them. In this case though, he instead chooses to get rid of the shoes he wears all the time. His wife is dismayed at first, but he explains he had these shoes he loved but wasn’t really enjoying. So he picked out his favorite pairs of the expensive shoes to keep and actually wear and enjoy. He then got rid of the excess of his shoe collection that he didn’t feel a connection with or those that had fallen apart.

Recently, I reorganized my closet and ended up taking everything out so I could put things according to category to find them easier (ie skirts, pants, blouses, etc). As I went through my things, I found so many cute and fun pieces I had never worn. I have been a stay at home parent for almost a decade and over time my everyday clothes had drifted to yoga/sweat pants and t-shirts and jeans when I had to leave the house. I thought about getting rid of all these clothes I loved but didn’t wear, but it made me really sad. Instead, I resolved to make an effort to wear them more when I left house. Even if I’m just grocery shopping, I feel much stronger and myself wearing those clothes. It help me realized there really is power in adopting an aesthetic.

No Shame. She keeps things positive.

Kondo never shames people for being messy. Indeed she doesn’t treat messiness as a failing, simply something that happens and an opportunity to change things up. Getting messy is indeed actually part of her process as you take everything in one of her categories, put it in a pile, and then go through it. She also understands that you have to be in the right frame of mind to tackle a mess, that its ok if it sits for a bit until you’re ready to deal with it. We see this in particular with the woman who was a widow--Kondo adjusts the order of her system so the widow can tackle the areas she feels most comfortable, knowing that she is still grieving.

Also, this isn’t a makeover show. People’s homes still look pretty close to what they were when they started. Indeed, sometimes the homes seemed perfectly fine to me when Kondo and her translator arrive and I wondered why she was there. Often it was more about the energy of the home and feeling lost and disconnected from their belongings. And after watching, even though the homes visually look the same, the feeling--the energy is what really changed.

I mean this show is really all about joy and in particular about bring joy into your life though connecting to your home. I highly recommend it and Kondo’s method if you want to bring some order to your life.

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writingonesdreams · 5 years

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Novel Prep tag Game 3 - New wip: Flickers in the dust

So a new wip, another Novel prep tag game. These questions are just perfect for testing and developing ideas so here we go.

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag as many writers as there are questions answered (or as many as you can) to spread the positivity! Even if these questions are not explicitly brought up in the novel, they are still good to keep in mind when writing.

1. Describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch)

The question: How can a bunch of people with "useless" skills survive an post-apocalyptic world?

Impassive procastrinator Alysa travels with her self-destructive childhood friend Kyle, and the energetic 8 yeal old neighbour Iris, with the delinquent but vigorous boxer Roman and his werewolf friend Wes through the desolated world left after the apocalypse, trying to reach a better life in a bigger city.

2. How long do you plan for your novel to be? (Is it a novella, single book, book series, etc.)

A novel for now.

3. What is your novel’s aesthetic?

Dusty wastelands. Long field road. Vacant ghost towns and abandoned cars. Dust storms. Constant dark cloudy sky.

4. What other stories inspire your novel?

Megalo Box, Wolf’s rain, The promised Neverland, Ergo Proxy

5. Share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel

6. Who is your protagonist?

Alysa is a talented, thoughtful girl and former child prodigy, but she had trouble deciding what she wanted from life and started to fail her university exams. Her lack of self-discipline, motivation or healthy socilaization led her to believe she is quite unfit for the adult life or the world in general. After the apocalypse happenes she is forced to drastically change her priorities and negative thinking for the sake of survival.

7. Who is their closest ally?

Kyle is emotionally abused, burned-out genius with a self-destructive streak and fondness for dark humor. His will to live and emotional stability has steadily decreased over the years. Staying alive has been enough of a challange, so activelly fighting to survive seems like a pretty impossible feat to him.

8. Who is their enemy?

The desolated world after the apocalypse and it’s survival challanges, including insane mutated humans, ruthless gangs, isolated research centers, way too intelligent wolf packs and their struggle not to give up on their will to live.

9. What do they want more than anything?

The main characters want to be capable enough to survive and in addition to that live in a somehow meaningful way. To find out what's really important and what's the main difference between survival and living.

10. Why can’t they have it?

Alysa was pretty much a failing existence when it came to finding her place in the adult society and now she is supposed to survive in a world that's 100 times worse after the apocalypse. How can she do that when she had trouble surviving in the normal one?

Kyle struggled to find reasons to stay alive after his emotional abuse and depression. He has been saved by his friends and family from this, but now it's not just his survival at stake. Will a boy that had to be constantly saved from himself, be able to save someone else?

Roman was a boxer and convict before the apocalypse happened. His violent past marked him as unfit to decent people, but ironically made him exceptionally suitable for this destroyed world- he pretty much has better chances for a good life now then before. Does this make him a bad person? Does he deserve to win against the world or will he change to match it's cruel conditions?

11. What do they wrongly believe about themselves?

Alysa believes she is worthless and incapable as a person.

Kyle feels like he is living on borrowed time anyway and doesn't see any perspectives for himself.

Roman isn’t sure if his abilities to survive that are based on his violent past don’t make him a bad person.

12. Draw your protagonist! (Or share a description)

Alysa is tall and slender girl, has middle long wavy blond hair, light blue eyes and ivory skin. She has very delicate features and is rather pale.

Roman is muscular and tall with tanned olive skin, black curly hair and amber eyes. He is covered in scars, most notably on his chest, arms and neck.

Kyle is tall, lanky and not visibly muscular even though he is trained in martial arts. He has a bit longer black hair, with bangs falling in his eyes, very pale skin and grey eyes.

Wes in his human form has dirty blond curly hair and eyes that change from green-blue to black according to his mood. He has dusty grey fur in his wolf form.

Iris has short red hair and vibrant green eyes.

Plot Points

13. What is the internal conflict?

The characters struggle with their will to live in a destroyed world and with their feelings of worthlessness and inaptitude to fend for themselves or build happy lives.

14. What is the external conflict?

Surviving in the destroyed world, maturing and growing stronger, adapting to change and fighting for themsleves in a world that is aiming to make it as hard as possible for them.

15. What is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist?

To die because they gave up on life instead of the world actually killing them. Losing to the harsh conditions of the world would be better then losing to themselves (albeit not much).

16. What secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story?

How do you not give up when everything seems hopeless? Who is the worse enemy in this destroyed world - the mutated monsters or the humans left? Where does the will to carry on come from? Is it possible to hold on to humanity in a world of ruin? And what is it that makes us human?

17. Do you know how it ends?

Nope. I’m happy I don’t, since it makes it seem like a very exciting story to work on!

18. What is the theme?

Self-worth, aptitude for life, will to live, not giving up, true companions, bonds, drive, meaning

19. What is a reoccurring symbol?

Dust, wind, dark sky, endless road, storms

20. Where is the story set? (Share a description!)

A destroyed post-apocalyptic Earth, where the majority of the population died and the rest flocks together in desperation into cities for protection from the zombie-like humans affected by the radiation and mutated over-intelligent wolves.

21. Do you have any images or scenes in your mind already?

Many scenes, dialogues, themes, flashes of setting and atmosphere.

22. What excited you about this story?

Something about the destroyed post-apocalyptic world fascinates me. It’s a plot around survival and hard conditions forcing the protagonists to face their inner demons and self-doubts if they want to survive and have the will and drive to fight, witch often makes the difference between life and death. Also the necessity for the characters to trust and rely on each other and their group dynamics development is very exciting.

23. Tell us about your usual writing method!

I always start with characters that I stick in different scenarios or in my favourite movies and series or books and let them interact. From those I mostly get inspiring scenes that I try to connect through a plot. Afterwards I work on characterisation, world-building, research details and outline stuff a bit. I also write little snippets that sometimes turn long and can be used as chapters.

I'm tagging a few peeps I haven't seen doing this game if you are interested: @piratequeenofpixies @imaghostwriter @tenacious-scripturient @writingwhithotchocolate @cabaretofwords @nemowritesstuff @emmathenovelist @bos-ingit @my-desk-is-full-of-used-pens @purpleshadows1989 @whiteblack-raindrops @surroundedbypearls & anyone who wants to!

Wip tag list: @tenacious-scripturient @hyba @urbanteeth (tell me if you want to get on/off)

#writeblr #tag game #novel prep tag game #creative writing #my writing #wip #my wip #wip: flickers in the dust #tag games

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timeforelfnonsense · 5 years

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Would that I

Part of my Wasteland, Baby! Fics: Would That I

Solavellan

Crestwood breakup

Angst

AO3

A cool breeze rustled the trees. Stone stags framed a picturesque waterfall tumbling softly down a cliff side. A smile creeping onto her cheeks, he wondered if she was recalling the first night they had spent together in a place not unlike this one. That had been part of the the reason he had bought her here. She’d hated Crestwood when they had first slogged out to the murky and mountainous village. There had been so much suffering there, so much lose. Too many people who needed her help and not enough time to go around. However, things settled somewhat in the months since they had last visited and this place was special, just like her.

“The veil is thin here. Can you feel it on your skin, tingling?” He asked, placing a hand to her face. She hummed her approval, pressing her cheek into his palm. They remained in silence for a moment, nothing but the sound of the bubbling water and their quite breath. He wanted to freeze this moment, paint a picture in his mind like the walls of Skyhold of. He memorized the softness of her beautiful green eyes, the constellations her freckles cast across her round face, the way her lose, snowy, ringlets fell down her back, “I was trying to determine someway to show you what you mean to me.”

She giggled, taking up both if his hand into her owns, “ That’s not necessary, Solas. You’re my…”

She stopped herself, casting her eyes to the ground, her cheeks glowing pink under twisting green vallaslin.

“That is the question, is it not?” He lifts her chin and offered her a gentle smile, the other hand squeezed her’s, “For now, the best gift I can offer… is the truth.”

She raised a curious eyebrow at the word truth and he swallowed hard.

“Oh? “ Her voice was honey, “Have you been dishonest with me, my heart?”

Her smile was light and flirtatious and so painfully real. He found conviction in her kindness, if anyone could understand it was surly her.

“You are unique” He responds at last, “In all of Thedas I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the fade. You have become important to me. More Important than I could have imagined.”

She smiled wide revealing the little space between her teeth he had come to adore. He felt her hands shaking in his and he tightens his grip.

“Solas, I care for you more than words can express. You have been the brightest spot in my life since I came to the Inquisition. You are brilliant beyond measure. You are kind and caring, always calm under pressure and... I love you. I love you with every fiber of my being.”

She was so good to him, better than he could ever deserve. Ashalle, lovely and kind beyond measure. She had given herself to him so completely, she deserved to have him in kind. Solas took a in a breath and looked deep into her eyes.

“Then what I must tell you… The truth…” He hesitated, her eyes still fixed on his.

He knew he must tell her yet, how could he? He could not ask her to bear this burden. What if the awful truth sent her running? Would she understand?

He was not often at a loss for words but in that moment every word in every tongue he knew was gone. How do you tell someone you love you are the monster whose name their people spit like acid. He searched her face, looking for the right thing to say hidden in her doe-eyed gaze. He composed his thoughts and continued, “Your face, the vallaslin. In my journeys in the Fade, I have seen things. I have discovered what those marks mean.”

Her face was confused and unsure. She was staring past his words and into his very soul. He had told her a truth, just not the one he had set out to. It was better this way, he thought, he could remain Solas in her eyes and their love could remain.

“What do you mean,vhenan? These marks honer the elvhen gods, they mark me as a full member of my clan, as they have for generations.”

“No. they are slave markings, or at least they were in the time of ancient Arlathan.”

“So this is what? Just another thing the Dalish got wrong? We try to preserve our culture and this is what we keep! A relic of a time we were no better than Tevinter!” Tears fell down her cheeks. Her voice shook, “Was Abelas right? I am just a shadow in marks I do not understand?”

“Ashalle, don’t say that. Your people might not be perfect but, they have a spirit I admire. You strive to keep a memory of what was lost, warped though it may be.” He took her into his arms, “For all their faults, the Dalish did one thing right. They made you. I did not tell you this to hurt you. If you like I know a spell. I can take the vallaslin away.”

“I don’t know… These marks have been a part of me for so long…”

He saw the conflict pulling at her and he wonders if he made the right choice or if this was another truth that was better left unspoken.

“I know, and I am so sorry for causing you pain. It was selfish of me. I look and you and I see what you truly are, vibrant, free spirited, fearless, you are so much more than those cruel mark represent.”

She nodded, her face earnest, she spoke in what was hardly more than a whisper, “ We are the last Elvhen. Never again shall we submit… I am no one's slave, take the vallaslin away.”

He knelt before her in the soft grass and placed a reassuring kiss on her forehead. His palms radiated warm and blue as he took her face into his hands. He watched as the green thorns that once covered her face fell away into the light of his magic. He offered her a hand, helping her to her feet. He had removed countless vallaslin but, none had made him feel so much as this.

“ Ar lasa mala revas...You are free.” He paused and took her in, “You are so beautiful.”

He pulled her into a tender embarrass, wrapping his arms loosely around her hips. His lips fell onto her’s. His fingers tangle into her messy silver curls, his thumb traced the edge of her ear. Her love is blinding, intoxicating, a blazing fire he was happy to be consumed by. His free hands found her backside. She is rapturous and he is utterly her’s. When she held him tight he can feel the Dreadwolf slip away with the pain of what he has done. Perhaps, he had not broken the world if someone like her could exist. He kissed her deep, savoring the sweetness of her full lips and the smell of lavender and honeysuckle on her skin. He knew in that moment he could not bear his life without her. He’d stay with her, he’d find a way to protect her from Mythal, Corypheus, anything that would bring her harm. She was joy made flesh, kindness and heat personified. She was his home, his heart, his world.

When she broke the kiss his sense returned to him and he is faced with another awful truth.

‘What is it?” She reached for his face but he backed away, “My heart…”

He was Fen'Harel, nothing could change who he was, even a love as sweet as hers. He had nearly forsaken himself for the sake of a woman’s love. No, he could not abandon his purpose, even for her.

“I distracted you from your duty and I’m sorry. It will not happen again.” His voice was measured and reserved. The way he spoke to other people...People that were not her. He watched her face twist from confusion to despair in a matter of moments.

“What? No. No, please, Solas don’t leave me. I love you…” She was sobbing, pleading as she reached for him.

“Vhenan, please,” He took another step away, arms outstretched to keep her back. He knew her touch would be too much and he’d once again fall for her charms, “You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world…”

She crumples to her knees, broken hearted and lost, “Why not this one?”

#solavellan #Solas #ashalle lavellan #elf writes #angst #solavellan HELL #dragon age

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