#this is 100% silly. no deep ideas whatsoever sorry for that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gellavonhamster · 5 years

Text

six inch heels

teen and up audiences (?) || Bertrand Baudelaire/Beatrice Baudelaire/Lemony Snicket || pre-canon, inappropriate use of the secretary disguise

ao3 link || originally posted in Russian

When he enters the room, the ball is already in full swing: the band is playing jazz, the dancing couples are sweeping past him, and some of the guests have already lost or taken off their masks and are dancing without them. Some ladies, as Bertrand manages to notice, have also kicked off their shoes. Perfect: so it won’t matter if he takes off his shoes too at some point. The fact that almost all women’s outfits included in the traditional disguise kit come complete with stiletto shoes is blatant injustice: naturally, the rasps and lock picks hidden in the heels could come in handy, but it is difficult to walk in such shoes for want of habit, not to mention dance in them.

Some guests, especially those that are older, look askance at him. No wonder: it is the unwritten rule that attending a masked ball in a standard VFD disguise, not bothering to come up with a new and original one, is considered bad form. Many of these people must have had to squeeze into the very same tube skirt, button up the very same tight blouse, and masquerade as a secretary at one institution or another to spy on the customers or sneakily make copies of the secret documents signed by the employer. Some of them, on the other hand, look at him without disapproval – if anything, they seem interested. Recognition could be read on the faces of two or three of them, which is suspicious, because Bertrand doesn’t recognize them himself. He notices Ramona’s mother, the Duchess of Winnipeg, who glances over him absentmindedly without interrupting her conversation with some elderly bearded man and does not recognize him, and Captain Widdershins, who does not recognize him either and ogles his legs unabashedly. Beatrice is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Lemony.

“I beg your pardon, signorina,” somebody says playfully right by his ear, and somebody’s hand wraps around his waist quickly. “Am I wrong to assume you’re bored?”

“Just taking a look around, really. Hello, Monty,” Bertrand gives his friend the once-over, from the bottom of his toga to the flowers in his hair and the horns on his head. “Is that papier-mâché?”

“What, the horns? Ah, yes. Didn’t have enough time to grow my own, you know. Have you been here long?”

“I’ve just arrived. Unforeseen circumstances,” Bertrand decides not to go into details. It is not him who these circumstances concern first and foremost, but Kit, and it is not up to him to decide who to inform and who not to inform about them. “See, there wasn’t even enough time for me to prepare the right costume.”

“Now, you surely shouldn’t worry about that. You look…” Monty pulls away demonstratively to take a better look at his outfit. “Jaw-dropping.”

“Still, you recognized me at once,” Bertrand reminds him. In truth, he doesn’t really care what other guests would think about his costume, but arguing with Monty, especially jokingly, is always fun. “And the point of the masked ball is not to know who’s hiding behind the mask.”

“My friend, dare I remind you that we used to share an apartment for… how many years? Five, six? In any case, you can’t fool me. Oh, and here comes Beatrice.”

The first thing Bertrand notices is the bat – a stuffed one, crowning the coiffure. Then Beatrice emerges from the crowd next to them, lifting up her long skirt a little. Then she, all black velvet and silver glitter and gleams of light in her hair, shifts her gaze from Monty to him, her eyes fly open in amazement, and her lips even part a little.

It is hard to throw Beatrice Baudelaire for a loop, and it’s even harder to fluster her, but she is blushing now – a rare sight, a rare and astonishing one indeed.

And a very, very attractive one, but that goes without saying.

“Look whom I’ve found, principessa,” Monty says, satisfied. “You were looking for your gentleman all over the mansion while you should have been looking for a fair lady.”

Beatrice nods, still looking at Bertrand, spellbound.

“Monty,” she finally says. “You’re a treasure. Bertrand, what is this?”

“The secretary disguise from the disguise kit, obviously. You must have the same.”

“I know it’s the secretary disguise,” she comes closer and looks up at him. The stilettos add some five inches to her height – it’s only that Bertrand is also wearing heels tonight. “What I’m asking is,” she continues, sounding exuberant and tormented at the same time, “what is this pornography? How did they let you in here? Did they think you’re here to jump out of a cake? Monty, has R mentioned by any chance if anyone will be jumping out of a cake tonight?”

“Guess I’ll go and ask,” Monty winks at her and disappears among the dancers.

Beatrice grabs Bertrand by the hand and draws him aside.

“Let me have another look at you,” she says with zest.

“Just don’t push me, I’m in heels.”

“Oh trust me, I can see that you’re in heels. Is that my lipstick? Did you take my lipstick?”

“Well, sorry for that,” Bertrand knows she isn’t really mad at all so he doesn’t even try to put on a serious face. “Didn’t have any time to buy my own.”

Beatrice narrows her eyes.

“Any other things of mine that you’ve borrowed, you pervert?”

“Nothing.”

“But you have to admit you’re wearing ladies’ underthings.”

“I’m not.”

“Are you trying to tell me you managed to pull this skirt over men’s underpants?”

“I didn’t.”

Beatrice’s eyebrows shoot up, and despite the music being loud, Bertrand can swear he just heard her gasp.

“Just don’t yell about it for the whole mansion to hear,” he says quickly.

Beatrice takes a step back.

“I need Lemony,” she says resolutely. “I’m not going to bear this burden alone. Let him suffer too. Lemony! Hey, Lemony!”

Snicket appears as if by magic – you’d think he’s enchanted, destined to follow Beatrice eternally whenever and wherever she’d call for him. He casts a glance at Bertrand from under his wide-brimmed cavalier hat – and freezes, understanding who’s in front of him. In contrast to Beatrice Baudelaire, under certain circumstances Lemony Snicket blushes easily and quite often; Bertrand has already had the pleasure to witness it more than once, and every time he thinks he’d never be tired of watching it happen.

“Mister Snicket,” Beatrice drawls out, her voice sugary sweet, “Let me introduce you to our associate Miss Markson.”

Lemony stares at him silently, and then suddenly holds out his hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” he says chokingly, and brings Bertrand’s hand to his lips.

Perhaps blushing is contagious, because now Bertrand feels that his own cheeks are burning.

Beatrice waits until Lemony is done kissing Bertrand’s hand – the kiss lasts a little longer than prescribed by etiquette – and wraps her arm around Lemony’s shoulder, pulls him close, and whispers something into his ear. Bertrand can’t hear it but he can imagine what she’s saying, and the amalgam of embarrassment and desire he sees is Snicket’s eyes looks good on him.

“Bertrand,” Lemony says, in the same choked voice, “Is my sister here?”

“Yes.”

“I take it that your trip went well?”

“For the most part.”

“I have to find her later. Right. Later,” Lemony fumbles with the top button of his shirt as if he wants to undo it but doesn’t dare to, or as if he simply doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Something pops loudly nearby, and the three of them give a start at once and turn around, but it’s just the waiter opening a bottle of champagne.

“I think we should show Miss Markson the winter garden of the Duchess of Winnipeg,” Beatrice proposes with a dazzling smile. “It is splendid, and likely to be less crowded than it is in here. It is even possible there’s nobody there at all.”

“A great idea,” Lemony agrees. “If Miss Markson is up for it, of course.”

Whether “Miss Markson” is up for it, Bertrand muses, is obviously the wrong question. The right question would have been the following: “Would the Duchess of Winnipeg mind if her daughter’s friends used her winter garden for their own purposes, which are not wicked but not innocent either?” Still, the opportunity to ask her does not present itself, and even if they had such an opportunity, none of them, understandably, would use it.

“I’d love to take a look at the winter garden,” he says.

Lemony Snicket leaves the ballroom arm in arm with two ladies.

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #bertrand baudelaire #beatrice baudelaire #lemony snicket #uncle monty #lemonberry ice #gella talks snicketverse #my fic #snicketverse #remember how they mentioned on the show that bertrand had worn the secretary disguise? yeah #this is 100% silly. no deep ideas whatsoever sorry for that

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

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hi! i wanted to request a smutty fic w prompt 100 with ransom and reader. maybe they were at a party and someone was hitting on reader and touching her and ransom got mad. 🤗

Hi love! Again, to everyone (including you) that has sent in a request, i’m sorry it’s taken so long. I feel bad for making people wait but i never wanna upload work that’s anything short of great in my eyes. I always want to be at my best. This didn’t quite go the way i wanted it to but i really hope it’s still good. Everyone reading, please feel free to leave feedback. It helps and is very appropriated.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Prompt #100: “Call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else touch you”

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, swearing, smut, sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, slight ownership kink (if you squint) and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,563

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @kylosrehn go check them out💜

Over My Dead Body

When making plans for the weekend with Ransom, going to a party full of stuck up rich people wasn’t exactly on your agenda. But, seeing it’s part of his lifestyle, you made an exception and besides it was yet another party hosted by his grandfather Harlan.

You never used to attend these parties since Ransom never invited you. He preferred to keep your interactions strictly bedroom related, nothing more, nothing less. It was beginning to confuse the hell out of you because sometimes on a rare occasion, he’d let you meet his friends and family.

But as previously stated, it’s rare.

When the two of you first met, sparks flew instantly. Your friend had introduced you, she was on a date with her boyfriend, her boyfriend brought him along just like she brought you along.

Their way of setting you two up. And it worked.

A solid 2 hours after meeting the man, he was balls deep inside of you making you forget your own name and turning you into a moaning mess underneath him. Since then you’ve been hooked. Whenever either of you are horny, you fuck.

But like any other fuck buddy relationships, there’s a catch. You two have a clear love for each other, one that neither of you will ever be brave enough to admit. Mostly because Ransom is a huge commitment phobe. The thought of only being with one girl for the rest of his life scares him and you just don’t admit your feelings because the thought of being rejected weighs heavier than the optimism of it working out in your favour.

Although he’s scared of settling down, Ransom sure did seem keen to bring you along with him to this party tonight which now you come to think of it, he’s been like that the last few times he’s taken you out.

Maybe he’s changing his mind.

“Red wine?” you hear, turning your head to see the man himself holding a wine glass for you and a tumbler glass for himself, no doubt filled with whiskey on the rocks. He does love his whiskey after all.

“Thank you, so tell me again. Why am i here?” you ask before taking a rather large sip of your wine, you certainly need liquid courage if you’re going to talk to these people.

“Who else would i have brought?” he responds, voice monotone, almost as if he’s bored and very uninterested. So all this time you thought there was a possibility of him changing his mind when in reality, he’s just been bringing you along to all of these lavish parties to keep up appearances.

No doubt to keep that controlling mother off of his back.

You shrug, continuing to look around as Ransom greets some of his grandfathers guests. One of them looks at you before looking at Ransom who eventually introduces you two, attempting to strike up some small talk until he’s being dragged away to talk to a group of men who no doubt are a lot older than him. Leaving you stood all alone.

That’s when you spot a guy across the room. He looks around Ransoms age. Tall, expensive suit, blonde hair and blue eyes. Plus he seems friendly. He raises his hand to wave and you reluctantly strut over, greeting him with a shy smile which he reciprocates.

“So, what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing stood all alone?” his compliment has you flustered and unsure how to respond but still, you find the words “thank you and i’m not alone, i came here with Ra-”

“Ransom Drysdale, yeah i saw you with him, where did he disappear to?”

“I have no idea, off talking to random strangers” you chuckle nervously, feeling slightly embarrassed about his absence. Little do you know, Ransom can see you with this mystery man, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw at the sight of you laughing.

Surely he can’t be that funny, he thinks to himself. But he is. He’s hilarious.

“So what do you think drew her to him then?” you giggle, gesturing to the couple next to you, a woman who’s dressed up to the nines with her husband who looks a lot older than her “oh obviously his looks, what makes you question her intentions?” he smirks and you shove him playfully.

“Oh of course. What was i thinking? Silly me” you wink, downing the rest of your drink in seconds before he takes another flute of champagne off of the waitresses tray for you.

“If i didn’t know any better i’d say you’re trying to get me drunk sir” you say using your best posh voice. Unbeknownst to you though, Ransom can hear your whole conversation, every single thing you’re saying to this man.

But can he really be mad? You’re only talking to, right? Besides he’s not exactly your boyfriend so you’re free to talk to whoever you want. Not that you want anyone else.

What he won’t admit now though is how jealous he is right now, he’s had just about enough of another man making you laugh the way that he’s supposed to make you laugh and now the only way this man is taking you home is over his dead body. But for now, he’s gonna make use of his best poker face, side eyeing the two of you on the sly as anger starts to build.

You start to look around the room yourself, trying to find Ransom and as you do, you spot him heading over to the drinks table so you decide to take that as your opportunity to excuse yourself, joining your date.

“Hey you” you bump him, a cheesy grin plastered across your face, one that fades as quickly as it appeared thanks to Ransoms straight and unimpressed expression.

You stand in front of him, blocking his access to the drinks “is everything okay?” but instead of an answer, you get silence. No response whatsoever. Why is he ignoring you?

“Ransom?”

“What?” he mutters, evidently agitated “what’s wrong?”

He chuckles in response, shoving past you to get his drink and lifting the tumbler to his plump pink lips, practically gulping it down without even so much as a flinch “oh don’t worry, everything is fine. Hey why don’t you go back to your little conversation with Mr Perfect will you” and just like that, he’s storming away from you and up the stairs to the second floor, instantly regretting sending you back to that man.

What could have gotten him so wound up?

If seeing you with that guy is the problem then maybe he shouldn’t have left you.

And without a second more to overthink and fester over his random outburst, you return to the other gentleman. One who knows how to treat you with respect as opposed to shutting you out.

“Hello again” he beams “i was about to say your name but then i remembered we never exchanged those”

“I’m Y/N”

“Jack”

“Nice to meet you Jack”

“Likewise”

The two of you shake hands as another conversation sparks up, pushing all Ransom related thoughts to the back of your already full brain.

Whilst Ransom is sat in the bathroom. Flustered, angry and ready to blow his lid at something so small. A situation that means nothing. That man means nothing to you, surely. You’re just being friendly, after all he did leave you to go and socialise. What did he expect you to do? Stand in the corner away from everyone?

You don’t want this guy though. Jack is just a friend you’ve made here. You want Ransom and he wants you too but his pride is in the way.

God what is wrong with him?

Evidently a lot.

One minute he’s all over you, taking you to parties and the next he’s giving you the silent treatment and acting like you’ve done something wrong.

And the only reason for his odd behaviour is because of the plan he made for tonight. Anyone who knows Ransom knows very well about his thoughts on relationships but with you, things are different and they always have been. You force him out of his comfort zone, you challenge him and you make him better. He was so nervous for tonight that the second the two of you arrived at the party he was drinking and acting strange.

As much as the thought of settling down scares him, he knows that it’s much better to tell you than watch you leave and find someone new. Seeing you with that guy only confirmed that.

After spending who knows how long in the bathroom trying to talk himself out of kicking up a fuss, he heads back down to the party, maybe he should go and spend more time with you but as he walks down the stairs, he instantly spots you and that same guy again. His hand is on your arm and you’re way too close for his liking. Close enough to make his skin crawl and his jaw clench even tighter.

He storms over, hearing his voice as he does so.

“So i know you came here with Ransom but i was wondering if i could maybe get your number?” he asks, scratching the back of his head as he anxiously awaits your reply.

Jacks nerves are abundantly clear until Ransom cuts you off, stopping you from opening your mouth to respond. He tugs on your arm, pulling you back “the answers no, prick” he snaps, dragging you through the crowd and out into the cold night air, barely giving you a chance to say goodbye to anyone and causing goosebumps to form all over your bare arms and legs.

“Ransom what the fuck?” you yell, trying your best to yank your arm from his tight grip “just get in the fucking car” he demands, opening the door for you. How chivalrous of him. His raised voice made you jump a little, cowering slightly and leaving you with no choice but to do as you’re told.

The second he gets in too, he’s shoving the key in the ignition and speeding off away from the party. Jack and all of the crowd long forgotten not just out of sight but out of mind too. Now all you can think about is Ransom and what’s got him so angry all of a sudden as he was pretty happy on the journey here.

You daren’t speak though, god forbid. Your words will only wind him up further.

Knuckles start to turn white as he grips the steering wheel like never before, his fingers tapping frantically which is an obvious indication of his need to get home as soon as physically possible.

You honestly can’t remember if you’ve ever seen him this angry in the whole time you’ve known him and that’s quite literally the scariest thing about this.

Eventually you reach his house, or should you say bachelor pad and he barely waits a second for you to exit the car before he’s storming off into the house without you.

Once you get inside he’s nowhere to be seen until you hear a loud slam of a door coming from upstairs. You head up and into the master bedroom instantly to find him undressing and discarding his clothes across the room.

“Ransom” you approach him with caution, worry filling your soft and caring voice but the moment you’re a few inches away and about to touch him, he shoots around, scaring you.

“Would you have given him your number?” he questions, his blue eyes looking deep into yours almost like he’s looking into your soul.

“Who? Jack? No, of course not. Why’re you even asking me that?” you protest, hoping he’ll believe you but now you come to think of it, you probably looked way too close for comfort.

“Lies”

“Why are you being like this?”

“Because it sure seemed like the two of you were getting awfully cosy tonight, laughing, drinking, touching each other” he explains, closing the space between you and making you gulp.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t of treated me like i was invisible all night then i wouldn’t have needed to make friends with him. You forget that you barely said a word the whole time” now you’re the one that’s angry as you step back after your outburst, watching him carefully. His next actions shock you though as he just laughs, turning away and speed walking across the bedroom to the en suite. But before you can even follow him, he slams the door, making you flinch and then as you thought he would, he locked it.

Why can’t he ever be mature enough to talk about things. All he ever does is avoid confrontation. You don’t really like it either but at least you’re trying to sort whatever issue has him all in his feelings and angry.

Rather than sitting and waiting for him to leave the bathroom, you decide to go and get ready for bed in the other one, showering before getting dressed into whatever you can find. Which just so happen to be a shirt of his.

He dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist before unlocking the door and walking out to find you sat on the bed.

“The answer is no and that’s the truth”

“Oh yeah? Then why was his hands all over you like you were there with him tonight?”

“That was nothing, we were just laughing. What about you though huh? Snapping at me all night, leaving me and then deciding at the very last second that you want to spend time with me. Felt a lot like just another one of your games” it doesn’t look like he believes you and now you’re over trying to prove yourself.

“I left to talk to people and i was acting funny because going to those parties never end well, i wasn’t playing games with you” he stalks towards you, closing the gap.

Okay, now that makes sense. It explains all about how his behaviour changed when the two of you entered the actual party.

“You know, seeing you with that guy wasn’t easy. I got angry. All this time i thought you knew that you belonged to me, clearly i was wrong” his fingers graze your arm before settling underneath your chin and tilting it up, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

“Maybe you need a reminder” he’s so close to you now, his hands are all over your waist, moving down agonisingly slow towards your ass. He smacks the backs of both thighs as a signal for you to jump and you do. How can you resist?

His lips attack yours in a brief and passionate kiss before he throws you down to the bed “i’m gonna make you forget all about him” he then removes the towel.

You furrow your brows watching as he lifts your (his) shirt up, revealing your laced panties. His favourite on you. He spreads your legs with his hands as he tugs you to the edge of the bed, kneeling down to press a firm kiss to the inside of both your thighs.

That’s when he does what he always does, turns you into a moaning mess by devouring your pussy like a man starved. Sucking, slurping and flicking his tongue all over your sex effortlessly like your body was made for him. Just how you felt the first time he ever touched and tasted you.

“Mhmm, just like that” you run your fingers through his styled locks, messing them up without a care. “I’m the only one for you" he mumbles and it vibrates onto your clit making you giggle.

“You’ve always been the only one” you whisper and he looks up at you with lustful eyes but also a look of love. One you’ve not seen before or maybe you’ve never noticed.

The way he looks at you isn’t new but all this time you’ve assumed it’s because of his attraction to you, that he’s only looking at you that way because of his uncontrollable lust.

“Only i am allowed to touch you like this, taste you” his lips wrap around your clit, sucking like his life depends on it as his thick digits tease your dripping entrance “s’wet sweetness”

You tug a little harder as you lift your bum off of the bed, grinding yourself on his face with a burning desire for that sweet release, the one only he has been able to give you “that’s it sweetness, cum all over my face, cum for daddy” his low and raspy voice spurring you on and talking dirty sends you over that edge as you cum with a loud moan. Quicker than usual.

You try to push him off as you scrunch your eyes closed, seeing stars. All you can focus on is how sensitive you are but he’s cleaning you up with his tongue, clearly can’t get enough of how you taste.

“Always so sweet” he gets back up, moving you further up the bed and parting your legs as he hovers above you with his fingers making quick work to slip your panties to the side. The tip of his cock rests at your entrance as he dips his head to capture your lips with his tongue pushing past them and into your mouth to battle with your tongue.

You can taste yourself on him and that alone arouses you leading you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso “i need you, now” you plead, urging him to give you what you want, which he does. He pushes in slowly at first, seating himself deep inside before really moving.

His pace gets going, rocking his hips back and forth, making sure to fill you up all the way as you claw at his back, your mouth hanging open in the perfect O shape “fuck, daddy it feels so good” you groan moving with him in his thrusts.

“Feel good baby?” he pants, resting his head in the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses to your weak spot “tell daddy how good it feels sweetness. Use your words” he growls and you lift his head up so you can kiss him, cupping his face with one hand “it feels incredible, please don’t stop”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Wanna feel that pussy cream all over my cock. Give it to me sweetness” he licks his index and middle fingers before pressing them down on your clit hard, rubbing aggressively as his pace turns animalistic.

He’s ramming into you with such vigor, his breath fanning your shoulder and the noises he’s making are a far cry from just moaning. No he’s not moaning, he’s upset too or at least bothered by something.

“Can feel you squeezing me sweetness, you close?” he kisses your shoulder but this time he’s more gentle, almost as if he’s afraid of breaking you.

“Yes, oh my god i’m gonna cum. Please, keep going”

The two of you move more frantically. Desperately chasing a joint release.

Grunts, growls and the sound of skin slapping together fills the room, the sound bouncing off of the walls as you both near closer. That’s when you turn the tables around, kissing his neck this time, biting too.

“I’m gonna cum daddy”

“God i love you so much, cum with me”

3.2.1

And you’re legs are shaking in the air, his cock starts to twitch before he coats your walls with his hot seed.

“I love you too”

As he looks back into your eyes, you see it, the tears brimming and threatening to spill but he quickly kisses you, knowing full well that it’ll distract you but not this time. You pull back to look again but he only moves.

“You know i don’t think i was ever angry at you” he starts, standing up to retrieve the towel “it was him. Seeing him flirting with you only made me realise what i wanted” you get off of the bed now, approaching him “call me selfish, but i don’t ever want anyone else to touch you” he rests his forehead to yours, his hands resting on your waist “you’re mine, plain and simple”

“You never were one to do things the easy way” the two of you laugh before he kisses you “the easy way is boring”

Although you’re shocked about his confession, you daren’t pry more right now on his feelings. For now you just want to enjoy this moment. The two of you feel the same and that’s enough for you.

-----------------------------

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minijenn · 5 years

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Father and Daughter (Commission)

And at long last the last of these commissions! This is for @rpbattleman, who wanted a Zelda BotW commission about Zelda interacting with her father’s spirit post game. This is a bit angsty, pretty emotional, makes me wanna write more Breath of the Wild stuff so yeah, I liked it! Hope ya’ll do too, enjoy!

***

Out of all the things Zelda expected to see upon making the treacherous voyage into the ruined throne room of her former castle home, this had been about the very last.

It was supposed to have been a simple trip, solely for the purpose of combing through the castle ruins for any sort of important relics or records. Link had already told her that he hadn’t really found anything of note during his first excursion there, but Zelda was insistent, unable to bear the thought of so much important history being lost in such a way. However, talking about it was one thing; actually going there was another altogether. 100 years worth of dread and grief settled in Zelda’s heart as her and Link passed through the crumbling threshold into the musty ruins. Now bereft of Ganon’s malice, the castle was eerily silent and empty, a stark contrast from the bustling hub of Hyrule’s government that Zelda had grown up in. Yet even despite its horrific state, every step the princess took through its decimated halls brought more and more memories of her childhood there. Terrorizing the castle guards with reptiles and insects she had found in the courtyard, following her mother in flowing gowns to grand balls, walking alongside her father as he explained Hyrule’s hallowed history to her. All of these moments rested dead and gone, over 100 years in the past now. And as far as Zelda was concerned, that was exactly how far away they felt to her now.

What wasn’t far away, however, was her father, or rather, his ghostly spirit. For the moment the princess had stepped foot into the leveled throne room that had once been the lair of Calamity Ganon itself, there he was. The king hovered over his throne, or at least what was left of it, his spectral form facing the dull light filtering into the room from the window where elegant stained glass once hung. Even so, as soon as she spotted him, Zelda’s heart ached with far too many emotions to count. Link had mentioned to her that he had encountered her father’s spirit at the start of his quest, and Zelda believed him, knowing that lingering phantoms were a common occurrence in Hyrule. However, seeing her father’s ghost with her own eyes 100 years after his passing was in a league all its own.

So she stiffened, offering a silent nod to Link with the unspoken instruction for to wait outside. He complied, respecting the princess’s request for a private moment with her father, one that was clearly long past due.

Zelda stepped forward, unsure of what to even say to him first, but fortunately the king kickstarted the conversation instead. “Zelda…” Rhoam spoke, his deep voice resonating throughout the lofty chamber despite his incorporeal form. “You cannot fathom the countless years I have longed to see your face again.”

“A-actually,” Zelda said, her voice much less steady than she hoped it would sound. “I think I can.”

The king turned, sadness etched into his usually stern expression. Admittedly, it took Zelda aback, to see so much genuine emotion in the place of where a mask of solid stoicism usually rested instead. “It brings my departed heart peace to see you finally free from the malice you so admirably subdued. Words cannot my pride towards the sealing power that you at long last managed to successfully unlock.”

A flash of sudden anger rushed through Zelda as she heard this. His pride towards her power, not towards her. She should have expected it, but even so, the sentiment still stung all the same. “All these years, and you still haven’t changed…” she said, her voice quiet, though the edge in it was undeniable. “All my life, you told me that ceaseless prayer and dedication to my duties would awaken the sacred power within me. But you were wrong. My power came not from divinity but from within, from the desire to protect what matters most, from… from the love I found that is far more than any you once offered me!”

Rhoam was silent for a moment, but when he did speak, the rare shame in his tone was clear. “Zelda…” he sighed in what seemed like defeat. “You have every right to be angry with me. In truth, I’ve spent the last hundred years being overwhelmingly disappointed in myself.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Zelda shook her head with an incredulous laugh. After all, her father was nothing if not the prideful monarch of Hyrule all of his subjects had once known him to be in both public and private, a fact that the princess knew all too well.

“There was no excuse for my foolish stubbornness,” Rhoam continued. “I knew your heart lied with your research, and yet I coldly forbade it, not knowing that the untold truths your brilliant mind could have uncovered about the Guardians and the Divine Beasts might have held the potential to save us all from the grim fate we indeed met. In that way… perhaps it was my own failures to both you and this kingdom that doomed Hyrule most of all.”

By now, Zelda’s hands were clenched into such tight fists that she was shaking. Perhaps it was the fact that her father was nothing more than a spirit now or something else entirely, but the scars and shame of the past had finally pushed her over the edge. Urging her to say what she had wanted to say for well over 100 years now. “And you’re only just realizing that fact now?” she asked, perhaps a bit too harshly. “Now that this kingdom has all but crumbled around you? Now that our former champions, my dearest friends, perished in a war that Hyrule was sorely unprepared for all because of your silly insistence on withered, ancient tradition?! You once told me that I was set to inherit a throne of nothing, but take a look around you, Father! I am not the one sitting upon a throne that no longer exists; you are.”

For what seemed like ages, the princess’s final proclamation hung hard and heavy on in the still, musty air. Truth be told, Zelda had no idea how her father was going to react, but if she did know one thing, it was that everything she had just told him was the absolute truth. Which was why, regardless of how bitterly she had delivered it, she had no intentions of taking any of it back whatsoever.

But out of all of the ways Zelda had expected her father to react, the last thing she thought he’d do was laugh. It was a sad sort of chuckle, but a chuckle all the same, something that the princess had rarely heard out of her father since before her mother’s death so long ago now. “Yes…” Rhoam said with a small, rueful smile. “I suppose I am…” At that, the ghostly king glided forward, away from his former throne and towards his daughter instead. “Over these past 100 years I’ve spent restlessly wandering this land I have thought of nothing else but what I would say to you if we ever met again. But now that you’re truly here, there is but only one thing I feel there is left to say… It is this… Zelda… I… I am sorry.”

Zelda took in a sharp breath, everything freezing around her even more than it already was as those words and their weight sunk in. “Y-you… what?” she asked, her face warm as she felt the tears already building behind her eyes draw ever closer to the surface.

“I’m sorry,” Rhoam repeated, sad yet sincere. “For everything I have ever put you through. I always believed that I was acting in the best interest of the kingdom and its people in line with my duty as their king… but all the while, I was failing you as a father. And out of anything else, that is the single greatest regret of my ended life that I could ever carry.”

For the first 17 years of her life, all Zelda had ever, ever wanted was her father’s approval and pride. It was something any child would seek from a parent, really, but it meant so much more to her. Her father was the king, after all, his adulation wasn’t merely given, it was earned. And when she was a bit younger and a bit more foolish, she had thought that the only way to earn that adulation was to do as he expected of her and tap into the sealing power supposedly sleeping deep within her soul. And yet, for whatever mission, for years and years that had been an impossible mission, no matter how hard she tried. Which meant that no matter how she tried, she had never been able to earn the pride and affection she craved so much from one of the people she respected most. Pride and affection she thought she had lost forever on the dark, dark day he died.

But now…

Now, here he was, a wandering, listless spirt, standing before her and finally, finally freely giving her everything she thoughts she ever wanted. And in light of at long last receiving it, Zelda wasn’t entirely sure how to react. But above all else, she wanted to make sure that she wasn’t just dreaming after all. “I… I’ve finally earned it, haven’t I?” she asked, choking on a small sob. “I-is it really true? Have I finally made you proud? Have I at last brought honor to our family? H-have I…”

The princess trailed off as the king reached a hand to position it against the side of her face. It was intangible, of course, but for the briefest of moments, Zelda almost thought she could feel its calloused warmth against her skin. “My dear Zelda…” he said, his smile conveying the upmost love and comfort. “My greatest pride and honor is having you for a daughter.”

Zelda was unable to keep her floodgates closed any longer upon hearing this. She wanted, so desperately, to embrace her father, to fold into his strong, steadying arms just as she used to when she was little. But as he was now, she knew she couldn’t. So instead, she hugged herself, weeping softly out of joy of what she finally had and grief over how late it all was. But even so, better late than never at all.

“F-Father…” she whispered tearfully. “I… I love y-”

Zelda stopped short as she glanced up, only to notice that her father’s spirit had disappeared into thin air. She swallowed another sob, briefly wondering if he had ever really been there at all, until he called out his final message from whatever unknown beyond he was finally departing to. “Zelda, my dear little princess…” he said, calling her by a childhood nickname she hadn’t heard in countless years, but still deeply treasured all the same. “I have no doubt that you will succeed this kingdom where I have failed it… and Zelda, never, ever forget… how much your poor, foolish father loves you, even from beyond the grave… farewell…”

“Farewell… Father…” Zelda said, her voice barely audible as she looked to the light the king had vanished into. For a moment, she simply stood there, alone and surrounded by the ruined remnants of the past, a past that she knew she was no longer a part of, but still clung onto all the same. She felt as though she was lost adrift in a sea of countless overwhelming emotions, both good and bad. Until, that is, a pair steadying arms wrapped around her from behind. For the briefest of moments, she almost thought it was her father, somehow returned from the afterlife to an actually corporeal form. But as she looked back, she found not the king, but her knight instead.

Link looked to her intently, saying nothing but asking so much all the same. Zelda allowed herself one final small sob, accepting his comforting embrace before nodding her resolve. After all, the time for living in the past was over after all; and the future, whatever it might hold, lay straight ahead.

#jen writes #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #commissions #writing comms

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jinterlude · 5 years

Text

My Own Special Heaven

↳ header is made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to the image used.

➳ Pairing: Park Chanyeol x Reader (female OC)

➳ Genre(s): Superhero!AU,Romance, Angst, Slight-Fluff, & Slight-Humor

➳ Words: 1.6K

➳ Summary: You have once again saved the city, so your team decides to celebrate. In amidst the celebration, you sneak away towards the beach, wanting a moment of peace of quiet. Well, for a certain someone, he saw that as an opportunity to lay everything out there. But will you do the same?

Soft waves crash against the boulder. The cool breeze brushes your hair as well as fanning your face. The corners of your lips lift slightly as the memories of today’s events flood your mind. Pulling your legs towards your chest, you rest your chin on top of your knees as you continue to stare absentmindedly at the ocean. Watching the waves form one right after the other as they close in on their destination.

You honestly feel at ease with how tranquil the scenery is. The moon nice and full, illuminating everything and anything on this Earth. The stars taking turns twinkling as if it’s a fun little game that’s to be played. Sounds of lively chatter can be heard in the background but to be honest, you’re too lost in your thoughts to focus. Too busy enjoying your own slice of heaven.

Moments like these are ones to cherish – especially as the country’s number one protector. You always find yourself caught up in rescuing every single civilian or figuring out ways to keep the city safe that never once have you given yourself some downtime. A moment to relax and just simply breathe.

That’s a luxury you aren’t allowed to have.

Depressing, huh?

Slowly, your eyes flutter shut, inhaling the soothing salty air and exhaling. Before heading back to the gang, you decide to enjoy the peace and quiet for a few more seconds. Or – that’s until someone decides to join you.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

You glance up, humming in response. You register the deep voice, questioning why your dear friend, Park Chanyeol, is doing all the way out here.

“You didn’t have to leave the celebration on my account.” You say as you notice him taking a seat on the cold sand right next to you.

He flashes his signature 100-watt smile as he begins to speak. But you don’t really pay attention. That one smile is enough for you to be distracted. Oh, God how you have grown to love it. His endless amount of optimism. His odd but amusing sense of humor. How his eyes light up like fireworks on a major celebration whenever he passionately talks about his hobbies. Oh, how you love him. But, sadly, being in love is something that’s not written in the stars for you.

The last time you’ve fallen in love, his soul has been taken away from you too soon. That heartache…that brokenness…is something you refuse to feel again.

And you will keep burying all your pent up adoration towards Chanyeol until the day you die.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” You hear him ask, forcibly removing you

“Huh? I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Oh, I was asking if you wanted to elope and have three of my kids.”

“Why only three of your kids? Do you plan on having more with other women?”

“Fuck no. I want my own soccer team, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Hence, me only saying three kids.”

You gawk, deciphering if he’s being serious or not. Scratch that. You know he’s being serious because he’s – well – he’s him. Since day one, he has dropped “subtle” hints of the two of you becoming a thing. An item. A couple. And every time he does, you turn him down. Though, you’re starting to run out of reasons for rejection. You could tell him that you don’t love him, but that would be a big fucking lie.

So…

You just don’t say anything anymore or you indulge in his little fantasies.

Maybe in your fantasies you can be together with him…

Rolling your eyes, you give him a slight nudge, unaware that he isn’t well-balanced, causing the poor man to topple over.

Chanyeol feels the cold impact from the damp sand. He silently thanks the fact that he’s wearing jeans instead of shorts. He honestly doesn’t want to spend his precious time with you looking like a gigantic idiot and shaking his leg to get the annoying sand out. No. He’ll save that if his original plan fails miserably.

Speaking of which…

He stands up, dusting himself off, and offers his hand to you.

You lift an eyebrow, eyeing his hand confusedly.

“What? Do you want a high-five or something?”

“Actually, I want your hand in marriage, but I’ll save that after we save the world and go on a few more dates after this one.”

You fight back the smile that threatens to form. This kid is really testing your resolve. But you know he’ll win in the end. He’s stubborn like that.t

“What makes you think that this is a date? Huh, Park Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol smiles softly, “Because…” He trails on, reaching towards your hand, “Something tells me that you’ll think it is one after I do this.” He finishes, purposely causing more confusion in you. But before you can demand him to explain himself, your body is forced into the standing position. Then, you feel his left hand grasping your right hand while his other hand is placed on your lower back. Your eyes widen; a faint gasp leaves your lips.

Suddenly, your bodies start to sway slowly. Your eyes remain glued onto each other’s.

A pinkish hue appears on your cheeks as does this warm sensation the more the two of you remain close like this.

Your mind screams at you to push him away and run back to the others. Yet your heart demands that you allow yourself to enjoy this intimate moment.

“Just submit to your happiness” It tells you.

And so you shall.

“You do realize that we look silly slow dancing on the beach with no music whatsoever.” You point out as Chanyeol starts to turn your bodies.

“Or we look rather magnificent dancing with no music and people are jealous that only us geniuses can do this.” He playfully argues with a teasing grin.

You scoff, shaking your head.

“What are we doing, Chanyeol?” You ask after moments of silence went by.

Chanyeol, surprised by your comment, peers down at you. His lips thin as a tiny hum emits from his lips.

“Well, I’m here to tell you that I’m absolutely in love with you, and I hope after tonight, you’ll finally tell me that you feel the same.” He says seriously. His gaze pierces your own. The intensity of his stare makes you feel vulnerable. It’s as if he’s taking a hammer and getting ready to break down your walls.

Out of panic, you forcibly untangle yourselves and create some distance between your bodies. Though—you already miss his touch—his warmth.

“You can’t do that.”

“Do what? Pour my feelings out to you for the hundredth time? Honestly, he would want you to move on. He would want you to be happy, Y/N.”

You scoff and just as you open your mouth to retaliate, Chanyeol silences you…with a kiss. You feel his hands cupping your cheeks as he presses his sweet lips against yours. At first, your eyes widen from it. Then, as the two of you continue to indulge in this innocent yet loving kiss, you eyes flutter shut. You hands raise up to his neck and lock around him as if you want him closer than he already is.

You can feel all of his pent up romantic feelings for you in this kiss. And quite frankly it both frightens and excites you. Which side do you allow to win? Your fears or your happiness?

Slowly, you break the kiss, but you feel his forehead rest against yours as you look into his eyes. Sparkles of love and happiness are displayed along side another emotion. Fear? But he has no reason to be afraid.

Well…not anymore…

He’s right. Your deceased lover would want you want to move on. He would want you to be happy.

So…

Happy you will be…

“I love you too, Chanyeol” You say softly, finally returning the love he has for you.

Chanyeol’s eyes widen. His heart pounds against his chest as the corners of his lips curve upward.

He’s heard correctly, right? You saying that you love him. Oh, my God.

Without a second thought, he lifts you up and twirls you around, causing you to squeal, as he utters the phrase, “thank you”, repeatedly.

“Put me down!”

“Sorry! Sorry!”

He gently sets you down, though, his arms remain encircle around your waist. If this is a dream, he doesn’t want to wake up.

Wait, is this a dream?

He peppers your face with kisses, causing to you to laugh and push his face away.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure this isn’t a dream.”

You shake your head with an amused smile on your face. Then, a devious idea pops into your mind. You hold up your right hand and focus your attention into gathering the moisture from the air.

Chanyeol eyes you strangely, wondering what you’re doing. Though, he has an inkling.

After all, you’re graced with the power of lunar manipulation and all things associated with it.

“At least give me the chance to brace myself before you—” But before he can finish his sentence, he sputters. His tastes a huge amount of salt. Yup. You’ve thrown an ocean water bubble at him.

Why does he love you again?

“Now, are you sure that this isn’t a dream?”

Chanyeol nods, “Crystal.”

You practically beam, “Good.” You then reach up placing your thumb against his lips to wipe away any remaining drops of sea water.

“You’re lucky that I love you.”

“Or else what?”

“Nothing. I would probably just fall in love with you even more and enjoy your constant tormenting.” “I didn’t know you were secretly a masochist.”

“If I’m a masochist, then you’re a sadist. Which means we complete each other!”

“How about no, and that the fact that you’re you is the reason why we complete each other.”

Chanyeol laughs softly and pulls you closer; you find relaxation from the steadiness of his heartbeat.

“I like that. You’re you and I’m me, and that’s why we complete each other.”

“Now, you get it.”

A/N: I’m amazed with how fast I whipped this out and now I can’t wait to expand this and make it longer! Originally, this was meant to be @yeoltidecarol, Kat’s, Christmas present, but today is her birthday, I honestly in good conscience not do anything for her! So, Kat, MRS. PCY, I hope you like this small one shot, and I will upgrade this into something more soon! I hope you that you got everything you’ve asked for on the day of your birth. I also hope that your husband finally allowed you to wreck him ;)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAT! I WISH YOU ALL THE LOVE AND HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD!

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arteacactus · 6 years

Text

Starlit Waters

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any?? Roman gets pretty sad but I think that’s it Pairing: Platonic Logince Word count: 1619 Notes: Sorry in advance for the poor writing (and really bad title)! Anyway this is a fic (and art) based on @fandergecko‘s mermaid au bc it’s perfection

Roman was not having a good time.

He didn’t particularly know why he wasn’t having a good time, he just wasn’t. He was sad, tense, anxious, and he had no clue when, how, or why it had come about. One minute he was petting a fish and the next he was laying on an open patch of sand, staring up at the rippling waves above, willing tears not to fall.

It was nighttime, and the water swirling above distorted the look of the moon, the bright blue glow forming moving streaks of light in the water that lit up the scales of Roman’s tail and made his fins glitter prettily, the blue glow cast on his red scales giving him a purple hue, ripples of shimmering light running across his scales.

Fingers twitching, Roman rolled onto his side, facing a large gap in the floor of the ocean, the deep trench dark and spooky-looking, shadows dancing along the edges where the moonlight hit. He saw large fish blink at him from the opening of the pit before diving deep into the shadows once more. He watched other fish casually swim along on top of the gap, as if they weren’t bothered whatsoever by the deep, scary hole in the ground.

Roman took a deep breath and decided to just take in his surroundings, studying the area he was in, try and forget about his sadness in hopes that it will just eventually wear off.

The sand he laid on was soft, he realized, sticking his hand into a small mound of the white, fluffy sand, rubbing the grains between his fingers and watching it cloud the water. There were some pretty stones surrounding him, pink and green and blue, swirling with other colors mixed in, patterns of rainbow coating the stones.

Roman realized that, other than the occasional piece of coral spotting the ground, it was pretty bland where he laid.

Letting out a low whine, he curled up, and the tears flowed, openly pouring as he sobbed, releasing his emotions into the ocean. Why was he even sad? He didn’t really know, and it was silly for him to cry over something he didn’t even know.

The more he cried, though, the more tears came- it seemed to never end, letting out choked, loud sobs as he curled up in the patch of sand.

And that’s how Logan found him, the man hearing muffled crying in the distance as he was exploring, and he couldn’t help but feel curious.

Following the sound, Logan stumbled upon Roman, and paused.

He’s.. never seen Roman in such a huge amount of distress. Obviously, he knew he could get sad, but he just didn’t think he’d ever see it.

Logan stopped, contemplating what he could do.

He could try his best to comfort him, or he could just continue right past him, forget he’d ever seen it, and let Roman cry alone.

.. Even to him, that seemed like a terrible thing to do.

So, Logan took in a deep breath, and he slowly made his way towards the other, who didn’t seem to notice him as he approached, until Logan mumbled, “Roman?”

Upon hearing he was not alone, Roman jumped, startled, and sand flew in large clouds everywhere, almost getting Logan in the eye if he hadn’t moved away quick enough.

“Logan,” Roman sputtered, quickly rubbing his eyes, as if trying to rid of the evidence that he was crying, even though he knew it was no use.

“Roman,” Logan repeated, then hesitated. Would it be a bad idea to talk about it? He didn’t know. “You are.. Distressed.”

“Brilliant deduction.” Roman replied dryly, “I am astounded by your intelligence.”

Logan frowned. “What is causing your state of sadness?” He questioned, choosing to ignore Roman’s sass.

“Nothing,” Roman replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “Nothing is.”

“Roman,” Logan sighed, “Is it so hard to believe I may want to help you-”

“I’m not trying to be stubborn. Nothing is causing it.” Roman cut him off, “Or.. I don’t know what is causing it, but it feels like it’s nothing.”

Oh.

Logan paused, and his frown deepened. That complicated things.

“Well.. how shall I make you feel better?”

“What?” Roman seemed genuinely confused, “Why?”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to help you.” Logan scoffed, “You seriously think I wouldn’t care?”

He seemed to have stunned Roman into silence, and it gave Logan a little more time to think.

He wasn’t all too sure how to make Roman feel better. He wasn’t exactly.. Good at comfort. Sure, he could handle himself just fine, but when it came to others, he might as well be a rock, because he couldn’t help whatsoever.

Well, he supposed he might as well try out something he’d always heard, but never done.

“Can I give you a hug?” Logan asked awkwardly after a second, and Roman froze again. Just when Logan started to worry he’d said the wrong thing, Roman nodded.

Logan approached the other and hesitantly put his arms around him, and inhaled sharply in surprise when Roman clung to him, squeezing the air out of his lungs with the tight grip of his hug.

Roman honestly didn’t realize how much he craved to be held until Logan touched him, and Roman couldn’t stop himself from throwing himself at Logan, silently pleading to be held more- he craved to be hugged and touched.

Logan, after an awkward pause, tightened his hold on Roman, resting his head on the other’s shoulder and giving out a soft exhale as Roman continued to sob into his shoulder. Was this supposed to happen? Roman wasn’t pulling away, but he wasn’t entirely sure if this is how hugging worked.

Oh well. It seemed to be helping.

Logan held Roman for an exact two minutes and sixteen seconds, letting the other cry into his neck the whole time, until Roman finally loosened his grip and removed himself from Logan’s hold.

“Th-Thank you,” Roman croaked, sniffling and rubbing his nose, “I’m sorry for- for crying so much.”

“It’s fine,” Logan assured, “You needed it, I’m sure.”

Roman cracked a grin and took a deep breath, “I’m sure you had somewhere to go, so..”

“Well.. not really,” Logan shrugged, “Not anywhere you can’t accompany me, anyway.”

“Wh-What?”

“You really think I’d just leave you here? Come on. I want to show you something.”

Roman scrunched his face in confusion, but followed Logan anyway when he swam upwards, towards the surface of the water.

“You- You do know that I can’t-”

“Yes, Roman,” Logan replied, “I know you can’t do it for too long. But I want you to see this.”

Roman gave a shaky exhale, watching Logan break through the water, anxiously tapping his fingers against his arm, before following him.

Immediately, the cold air bit at him, making Roman shiver and instinctively move closer to Logan for warmth. “What did you want to show me..?”

“Look,” Logan pointed upwards, into the sky, where a clear view of the milky way could be seen, stretched across the sky and lighting up the water.

Roman froze, breath being punched from his lungs at the sight of the stars twinkling above him, the reddish color in the sky almost reminding him of-

“It reminds me of your tail,” Logan mumbled sheepishly, “B-Because it’s reddish, and the stars are like the way your tail sparkles..” He rubbed his hot cheeks, face red.

Roman stared at Logan, shocked, watching the flustered man frantically avoid eye contact, before his own face bloomed red and he grinned, “Thank you, I am quite pretty, aren’t I?”

Logan huffed, rolling his eyes, but felt thankful that Roman didn’t mock him. “Did you know the largest constellation by area is Hydra, which is 3.16 percent of the sky? The smallest is Crux, which only takes up 0.17 percent of the sky.”

Roman nodded, not understanding a single word, but trying to be supportive anyway. Besides, Logan’s eyes were lit up with such joy as he pointed to the stars and eagerly named them off, then rambling some fact about the star afterwards.

“Supergiant stars are the largest stars in the universe. They can be thousands of times bigger than our sun, and have a mass up to 100 times greater. The largest known supergiant star, VY Canis Majoris, is up to 2,100 times the size of the sun- based on upper estimates.” Logan excitedly told him, and turned to Roman with such a big, happy grin, that Roman just had to give him a smile in return.

“Very fascinating, darling,” Roman replied, and before he could correct himself, Logan’s face bloomed with color once again, and Roman had to stop himself from snorting out a laugh at the way the other seemed to have broken.

Logan blue-screened, too flustered to figure out what to say, stammering out a few words before decided it wasn’t worth it, and he fixed the goggles on his face. “S-Surely the air is bothering you now, yes?” He managed to get out, then hid, diving right back into the water, leaving Roman to cackle for a while before following him.

Logan, still red-faced, crossed his arms over his chest. “So.. Do you feel any better, Roman?”

Roman smiled. “I do, thank you, Logan. But now I have to do important things. Very important things. Because I’m important.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Then go pet a fish. I wouldn’t call it important, but whatever you want-”

Roman made an offended noise, “Fish petting is important!” He insisted, pouting as Logan just grinned.

Yeah, Roman did feel better. He was gonna be okay.

#my fics #logince #mermaid au #fanfiction #logan sanders #roman sanders

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agentnico · 6 years

Text

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) Review

So, I find myself in a conundrum. I have seen the big flick of the year, Avengers: Infinity War, however I have no idea how to go about reviewing it. “How so?” you ask. “Just give it a score and be done with it, you silly tot!” you exclaim again. “Well,” I reply. “Firstly don’t call me a tot, who uses ‘tot’ these days anyway? Secondly, let me explain.” Then I take a deep breath, look around wearily at the eager swarm of Marvel fans, and begin my tale of woe...

I hated Avengers: Infinity War... Wow, that was not that difficult to explain actually! Alright, alright! Hang on, hold your “f*ck” screaming crusade back, I haven’t finished yet. Basically, I simply am not the right target audience for this film it seems. And I say ‘it seems’ because in all fairness I used to really enjoy Marvel films. But in the past year I began developing this illness called superhero fatigue! Yes, yes, I hear your shocking screams, it’s a terrible terrible illness, worse than what the Black Death did back in the day. The truth needs to be faced though, I have been infected, like in The Walking Dead, only better, cause that show sucks now! I mean really, what happened to that show??...............*sob* anyway, that’s a rant for another day. Having become more and more bored with superhero flicks, with certain exceptions like the first Deadpool, Thor: Ragnarok and Black Panther actually surprising me, and especially following those last two I was hopeful that this new Marvel entry was not going to be affected by my disease filled mind......okay, that’s a lie, I wasn’t optimistic about this film whatsoever from the start, my friends Paul and Josh would confirm how not-excited I was for this film (hey, I guess this is what a shout out is, cool, hello you guys!!!). But I went into this film with an open-ish mind......and yeah, bloody hated, didn’t I. So here I am wondering how to go about reviewing this film (if I can call it that), because as I said, I hated it, but that doesn’t mean its a bad film. For a casual movie goer and most definitely for Marvel fans I’m sure it a great time, I’m sure people will love it..........holy mother of crabs, this movie has a 9/10 on IMDb? What in the actual a**?? Sorry, sorry, I promised to be calm. Who am I kidding, I didn’t promise jack sh**! But where was I? Ah, yes, the Avengers: Infinity War. So yes, this is 100% Marvel fan service and I understand why people like this film, it has everything a popcorn movie needs going for it, so it’s not my place to give this film a proper review or score as I am not the right demographic and it’s not my place to stray away casual movie-goers from enjoying this film. However who cares what I say, we all know this movie is going to make over a billion regardless what I say. *looks at phone* Oh bloody hell, it already made a billion! Well. Well then. I guess I’m just going to leave some of my personal thoughts on the film down below, I know that I usually don’t do spoilers but, you know, f*** it, SPOILER WARNING!!

Plot: The big purple dude finally gets of his chair after taking the big giant 10 year dump and goes to collect a bunch of stones to shove up his anus. Okay, not his anus, but who cares about this plot description, if you’re reading this you should have already saw the film or, like me, don’t care about it. Once again, SPOILER WARNING. Don’t read anymore, as I’m going to spoil everything in 3, 2, 1...

Thanos dies!! Alright, I’m kidding, Thanos is fine, but seriously, spoilers ahead.

MAGNOLIA YOU ARE NOT - There are too many characters in this film which the story does not manage to balance well, so many of them are under-used. And yes, I did a Magnolia reference, even though this is not the kind of film to compare to Magnolia, but I don’t care, I’m being biased, deal with it!!

THE PLOT - What plot?? I’m kidding, but seriously, what plot?? The film is made up of an escalating series of fight vignettes all under the motto of “We have to stop Thanos!” Especially to the end of the film, we keep cutting to these various locations with different characters that it is hardly possible to engage with any of the stories.

AGE OF THANOS - Yeah, yeah, I know, everyone loves Josh Brolin as Thanos. Well sorry to disappoint, folks, I didn’t like him. C’mon now, get on the trend with this ‘review’, it’s obviously a negative one, stop getting surprised at everything I didn’t like! Obviously if you liked his character, good on you, but I didn’t. In my eyes it was yet again another big CGI villain like the one-note Ultron from the last Avengers flick, only bigger and, in all fairness, had a better motivation, but I found that Brolin played him quite monotone. Yes, you see his tears when he has to kill Gamora to receive the Soul Stone, but I didn’t find that emotional whatsoever. But that’s just me. Or is it?......no, no, it’s definitely just me. I feel your hatred towards me soothing through your body as you are reading this.

THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES - Oh look, it’s another massive battle with CGI monsters! Wooo!!

DEADPOOL...ONLY IT’S PG! *GASP!* - MCU films are known to incorporate humour into all their films, but in this one it felt too forced. With the amount of jokes they had it really took away from the gravitas of the darker more emotional moments. As an example, Gamora’s death is straight away followed by a joke about Starbucks. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll happily laugh about Starbucks any day, but still.

“AMERICA, F*** YEAH!!” - Of course the first time aliens arrive on Earth it’s obviously in America! How else are we gonna feel patriotic, eh?

SILLY-LORD - Star-Lord messing up the whole plan at the end with taking the gauntlet of Thanos’ hand could have been done much smoother. Like I get why he was annoyed and angry, but Tony was literally shouting in his ear saying for him to just wait one more minute so that they could take off the glove and then he would have had full right to Fight Club him to his full heart’s desire. But nooooooo, let’s have our characters make dumb decisions. And I’m not just talking about Star-Lord! P.S. Yes, I understand that the whole Star-Lord shtick is a set-up towards Doctor Strange’s ultimate plan of what he saw in the future, but it still feels like a deus ex machina cop out nonetheless.

THE TRUE HEROES - Okay, so I’m sure out of all the complaints on this list I think with this one you might actually agree. Where in the world were Valkyrie, Korg and Miek at the beginning with the Asgardian ship? It’s not like the credits rolled after Thor: Ragnarok and Korg and Valkyrie decided to jump out of the ship into the cosmos in search of coffee? Right? Right??

#TEAMDRAX - Oh, Drax, if only you were.........actually, I don’t have a problem with Drax. No, I’m serious, this one actually is not a complaint. I know, I surprised myself! I do have to give props to both the writing for and performance of Drax. He was actually hilarious in this film and his jokes were actually well timed. From the awkward spying on Gamora’s and Star-Lord’s intimate moment and him being convinced that he’s invisible saying “I have mastered the ability of standing so incredibly still that I have become invisible to the eye....my movement, is so slow that its imperceptible....I’m sure I’m invisible.” to his description of Thor “It’s like a pirate had a baby with an angel.” to the misunderstanding argument where Quill is asking where Gamora is, Iron Man then questions who Gamora even is and then Drax’s logistical, but at the same time misinterpreted response “I’ll do you one better - WHY is Gamora??” In my eyes, Dave Bautista (with his dead-pan delivery of the lines) stole the show as Drax, though Chris Hemsworth as Thor and his buddy-ing up with Rocket was a nice dynamic.

“FREEDOM! I SAID FREEDOM!” - Not going to lie, when Heimdall was killed I actually felt happy for him. You could see in Idris Elba’s eyes how happy he was that he finally full-filled his contract and was freed from his Marvel obligations. We all knew Idris didn’t want to be a part of this franchise, blame his agent.

HAHA, MIDGET! - No, I’m serious, that’s an actual joke in the film.

“WAS THE MUSIC TOO LOUD?” - And we’re back with Marvel films having generic unmemorable scores/soundtracks. Just a bunch of dramatic noises to keep the crowd pumping. Unlike Thor: Ragnarok or Black Panther (and in all fairness the Guardians of the Galaxy films, though I do have a personal vendetta against Vol.2), which actually had good music accompaniment, but now we’re back where we started. Dang it.

“REST IN PEACE, WHY WON’T YOU LET ME REST IN PEACE??” - Those of you who get what I’m referencing with that sub-title, full respect to you. Any-hoot, half of the Avengers die at the end of this film. And it’s the lack of consequence that annoys me, especially with the knowledge of future films on Marvel’s slate. We know some of them will be back. In all fairness, we do seem to have a few proper permanent deaths (then again, this IS Marvel...) in this film with the likes of Loki, Heimdall (good on you, Idris!), Gamora and Vision, but Marvel does have a problem with killing off characters, which is evident at the end of this film. And yes, you can say that its based off the comics and its supposed to be like that, but it does take away any kind of stakes.

GAME OF STONES - The MCU would work so much better as a high budget TV series, since Infinity War seems both rushed and at the same time drags on so much at 2 hours 40 minutes. It’s overstuffed like Thanos’ gigantic purple jawline!

In all seriousness, if you enjoyed Avengers: Infinity War, I’m glad. Truly, I am, and I totally understand why so many people do indeed like it. For me it has definitely proved that I am more of an indie film fan, as to me this endless array of ACTION, ACTION, ACTION with, in my opinion, no deeper meaning or message, is just not my kind of thing. I have lost any kind of excitement for any upcoming superhero films, minus Deadpool 2, I actually think that one will be a good laugh, but otherwise I should stick with independent cinema. I’m not going to give this film a score, as if I would have, it would have been quite low and would have not been fair on the film since I’m not the right person to rate it.

Overall score: N/A

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myrskytuuli · 7 years

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Holy hell, okay, this is not a drill. Goldie O’Gilt is making an appearance in a comic, and it’s not a cameo.

So, my drug dealer got me hooked with some 2017 Topolino, and I need to scream about it, because Goldie!

That’s right, she is back, and looks absolutely stunning.

So, this is an Italian comic, and therefore it can be expected that the tragic romance™, that is more popular in the post-Rosa duck comic tradition, has been toned down a lot. Now full disclosure, I’m shipper trash and am fully committed to the tragic romance™. I wrote a 50 000+ words fanfic about it. I am also known sufferer of Brigitta MacBridge nonsense, so while this rant might be biased, I try to be biased in a gentle way. It’s not your fault Brigitta, that you have been written that way. Or that Scrooge and Goldie are soulmates. Ahem.

But to the comic itself. There are lots of things I love about it, and then there are some things that make me side-eye it in vaguely disapproving manner. I swear, not all of those reasons are shipping reasons. Okay yeah they pretty much are.

(Quick, follow me to the kitchen, you can throw a coffeepot on my face, and we can roleplay our night together in White Agony Creek anew!)

The premise of the story is pretty much, what if Goldie and Brigitta properly met? It’s…not a lot. There is no plot beyond: what if Goldie and Brigitta had a girls’ day out. Which I guess is fine, because that is all it is supposed to be. It is a slice of life character study. Usually I’m all about those, but…well Goldie doesn’t really shine when you don’t give her anything to do. In Rosa/Barks stories (which are the only stories where we see Goldie as a character) the focus has never been solely on anyone’s feelings. They have been very action-packed stories with any hinted romance taking a firm backseat.

What I’m trying to say is, that I’m disappointed that Goldie didn’t get to join in any of those silly Italian adventures. Not even little bit of shenanigans. Aww, and it could have been so fun too.

(You mean you didn’t come all this way just to ravish me against this discount-yard-sale table?)

Goldie is in Duckburg to collect a debt that Scrooge owes him. Solid beginning. Unfortunately, we never see her collecting this debt! The money issue is dropped from the story way too quickly for my tastes. Because while I 100% believe that Scrooge would avoid having to pay up any dubious debts, I do not believe that Goldie would give up that quickly.

And even more importantly, it would have been hilarious to see some actual petty shenanigans going on between these two. Note that it is mentioned that the original debt was 20$, which Goldie is trying to claim back with stupidly high compound interest. There is a story right there, nothing else needed. Just show me the ridiculous lengths these two are willing to go for 20$, while the rest of Duckburg watches in horror and bafflement. Also, hint that the real reason why these two keep the conflict going is that this way they can spend time together without actually talking about their feelings. Boom, story done. God, they should hire me to make scripts for these comics.

No?

Okay fine, let’s see what the actual story is all about.

Oh yes. Brigitta. This story was all about Brigitta.

For no good reason whatsoever, Brigitta loses all of her cools over the situation.

1.Don’t call him your Scrooge. You don’t own him.

2.Don’t call Goldie a dusty memory, that’s rude.

3.Goldie had the receipts, she has a genuine claim for that 20$, she’s not doing anything wrong for you to start insulting her!

Yes, yes, she is jealous and all that jazz, but honestly. It’s pretty hypocritical of her to “protect” Scrooge and his 20$ when Brigitta herself so frequently is an antagonist against Scrooge.

The following temper tantrum from Goldie delights me to no end, not because it is aimed towards Brigitta, but because it lines up so perfectly with all of my headcanons for Goldie. Sure, she might act cool and dignified these days, but deep down she is still the hair-trigger tempered diva, that would stay inside a burning building just for the aesthetic.

This has nothing to do with Scrooge, and everything to do with the fact that you called her old. This primadonna will now destroy you mentally, because that’s how she rolls. You will not disrespect the original material girl without consequences.

(I am the only person who has ever conquered Scrooge. Wow okay there Goldie, maybe tone it down a bit. I mean, yeah girl you are…but maybe don’t overshare too much.)

Was that kind of a bitchy move? Yes. She is kind of a bitchy person.

My next grumble about this story, is the weird way it deals with Scrooge. I cannot say anything specific…but there is just a really weird vibe to how he is written in here. The weird inner monologue on how he might be able to use the two women against each other to get rid of both of them…was…um.

While my first impression on Goldie’s, I am Scrooge’s number one love interest, speech seemed to be a bit beneath her, I then realised that she isn’t actually saying anything about her own regard for Scrooge. She is bragging about how Scrooge used to be bewitched by her, because that is the kind of thing that a dancehall girl would brag about. Pffft, yes it was Scrooge who was losing his mind over me back in Klondike, I was cool as a cucumber the whole time. Scrooge was nothing more than another notch on my bedpost. I have a heart made of ice, haven’t you heard.

Anyways, Scrooge decides to get rid of Brigitta by confirming everything Goldie just said. And I know that the story wants us to take Scrooge’s words with a grain of salt, because they are just a plan to get Brigitta to leave him alone….which does nothing to make me sympathise with Brigitta.

Putting my shipper heart on the side, pretending to be in love with someone else, to get rid of an admirer, does not create tension for ambiguous love triangle. It is what girls do in crowded bars when some drunk guy doesn’t leave them alone.

(Sorry Brigitta, but can you please leave. I was hoping to get conquered tonight, if you know what I mean.)

(They look like mom and dad getting yelled at by their daughter.)

Once again! What exactly are you mad about!? Which part of, I’m in love with someone else, gives you reason to get angry at them???? Remember that Brigitta at least is supposed to believe Scrooge to be fully sincere in his statement.

Back to Scrooge being a little shit. In a way, I want to be mad about this, but I’m not going to. Because lets not mystify Goldie too much, and pretty much all the rest of Scrooge’s family and loved ones have at least once been sent through that trap door.

No, let me grumble a little bit after all. I would heartily endorse this, if this was actually about the 20$. But it’s not. The whole thing is framed so that Goldie can have the great epiphany, this is how Brigitta must always feel!

Oh please.

Also, I think that we are supposed to be angry at Scrooge for being so callous towards both of the ladies, so that we can root for them becoming friends later. Which, yeah fine, but do we really have to. One of the things I most despise in Brigitta centred stories is that they by default make Scrooge into a dick. They have to. The whole story has to be built on the idea that Scrooge is just afraid of girl cooties, and therefore has to be pushed a little, so that he will eventually play nice, even with a girl. It is the only way to make Brigitta’s advances feel somehow justified. And in this case the characterisation bleeds to include Goldie under the umbrella of women that I don’t want anywhere near me, because women cost money or whatever.

So, it mostly feels like Goldie has to be booted out of the office, so she doesn’t trick Scrooge into marriage or some other sneaky thing that women are always doing. Sighs eternally.

(Oh my god, she is a serial killer. No one else has this many pictures of one person on their walls.)

But this story isn’t even about Scrooge. It is about female friendship. Which is a beautiful thing, and really this story does manage to do lot of things right.

(Hey, can I crash on your couch? Turns out that Scrooge didn’t like it how I called him my conquest in front of you and the staff. He’s always been a bit of a prude like that.)

I’m not really fan of the whole, we have lots in common thing, because they…don’t. And the whole, I now understand your perspective, because now I have been rejected too… doesn’t really work, because Goldie wasn’t proposing anything in the first place. Remember how she was here for that 20$! I do! Can we get back to that! Goldie wasn’t asking Scrooge out, wasn’t asking him to marry her, she was asking for money, and getting the cold shoulder for that should not come as some kind of an epiphany!

Nevermind. That’s cute as heck, I don’t even care how we got there.

Goldie would make a good mentor for Brigitta. As would Scrooge. The world would be a better place if Brigitta was treated like an over-enthusiastic businesswoman who wants to learn all of Scrooge’s tricks, and Scrooge was treated like grumpy, slightly unwilling teacher.

(So, what was Scrooge like when he was young? Oh, you know, very conquerable.)

Why is her hair silver, what is this travesty, colouring person you had one job!

Goldie tells Brigitta the story of sleeping pills, thievery, forced labour, kidnappings, and other general criminal activities that make up their tragic romance™.

(Oh, so when you slip him a pill on a first date, it makes you morally complex, but if I did that it would be just creepy and weird!)

(Context Brigitta, it’s all about the context!)

If I was Brigitta, I would feel a bit wary drinking anything with her, after the story she just told.

And then I almost got my hopes up, that something amazing was going to happen! Brigitta started to self-reflect upon herself, and doubting the way her life is now constructed. She admitted that she doesn’t have a positive relationship with Scrooge, and that maybe she is wasting her life. For a moment there, I thought that Brigitta was going to develop as a character.

There was a moment. A glorious moment, when I really thought that this was where the official policy concerning Brigitta was going to be changed, and she would stop trying to marry Scrooge. I did get my hopes up.

Aaaaaand, then this happened.

I guess it was inevitable, that Brigitta would get a cheerleading speech from Goldie, to bring back the status quo, but damn does it still feel weird. While I completely, 100% support Goldie’s you are a good and smart woman, if Scrooge doesn’t want that it’s his loss, that is where it should have ended.

Because the part about: because your feelings are painful it means that your love is real, and you shouldn’t give up on them, is complete nonsense. If a relationship is hurting you, it is not worth pursuing!!! Goldie implying that Brigitta’s hurt feelings are the reason she shouldn’t give up on Scrooge, I asdfghjkl, what the fuck!!!!

Secondly, that’s all well and dandy that Goldie now thinks that Brigitta’s love is real, but how exactly does that change anything?! You don’t think that maybe it should be Scrooge who gets to decide who is allowed to make romantic advances towards him!

Scrooge is not an object whose ownership you get to negotiate amongst yourselves!!

more, or less direct translation: you have continued to beat on to conquer who you love.

That is not a good thing!!

Yeah whatever. Goldie is his past, maybe Brigitta can be his future. Great. And I guess these two making a friendship with each other and admitting that both have the equal right to present themselves as options of romance for Scrooge is kind of mature and respectful towards everyone, if Brigitta wasn’t…you know Brigitta. She has not been known to respect Scrooge’s boundaries.

Goldie makes some great faces in here, and I will fully enjoy them. Even if I at the same time roll my eyes at the mandatory, lets punish Scrooge part of any Brigitta comic. You do know that while maybe him booting you, Goldie, out of the office could be seen as mean, he did absolutely nothing disrespectful towards Brigitta. Scrooge owes her zero apologies, because he never even said a mean word towards her! Brigitta had her whole sulk, because she thought that you two were hooking up. That’s not a crime.

In this continuity, I can understand that Scrooge would prefer to be married to his money. Because these women are written kind of unreasonable.

The inevitable self-reflection. Scrooge admits that both women are important parts of his life, and that he does care for both of their well-being. Cute, believable, satisfying. Well done everyone. I still firmly believe that Scrooge sees Brigitta more as a younger sibling than potential lover. But that’s just a headcanon, so feel free to come to your own conclusions.

(That is a duck who feels uncomfortable.)

The ladies return to the money bin just in time to eavesdrop on Scrooge’s monologue, and find out that he cared for them both after all. And honestly, I think these pictures tell everything that needs to be said about how much Scrooge cares about Brigitta’s advances.

God, she looks cute, I forgive this story for everything, Goldie is too adorable.

Well, I guess that this was the first time that Goldie has made a proper appearance in the Italian duck universe, and all in all, not bad. Maybe I will get an entirely new look on the story, if it gets properly translated, and I don’t have to play the I’m pretty sure I know what this means, game.

Congrats if you made it all the way here, these ramblings were long.

Ankkaneito returns back to the hole, where she came from.

#disney duck comics #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #brigitta macbridge

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