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astralartefact · 3 months ago

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Placeholder Name for Atarase's Media Diary

Extra Entry 00a - Final Fantasy 14 Endwalker 6.X Patch Series

Synopsis

The Gang Solves a Demon Crusade

The Gang Learns of the Messiest Divorce in the Multiverse

The Gang Ruins their Academic Reputation by Absolutely Botching the Only Interview Humanity Will Ever Have With Their Gods (Gone Wrong) (Gone Blasphemous)

The Gang Does Side Quests at the Other End of the Universe

i wrote this ages ago before dawntrail came out and forgot to post it but i still agree with what i wrote so have fun experiencing some hindsight <3

How much did I know before playing?

I'm playing this game since the end of Heavensward.

Did I like it more than I expected?

As seemingly one of 5 people with healthy expectations in this community I actually did.

Except for---

Since I liked it, here's what I hated about it

Eulogia. Fuck Eulogia. Way to ruin, like, everything.

Who wrote this. I just have some questions. I want to know if you ever once thought, like at all. For your own sake, dear writer responsible for this shlock, I hope YoshiP never reveals your name to the public for you already have a spiritual nemesis that will badmouth you to his absolutely non-sizeable internet audience.

Also, I guess searching for a Pictomancer glam in preparation for Dawntrail also has made me once again aware that the designs for magic armor in this game suck ass, you know I enjoy the subdued but still magical vibe of the art design but to be quite honest I thoroughly dislike most of the armor aesthetic. How are you guys, especially male characters, maining magic jobs with only like 3 glams that aren't long, ugly and/or feminine robes, I knew it was a meme but it's really that bad.

The worst part really is that there's several dozen good outfits where you can literally see the line where the top should have ended - only for them to still extend the cape all the way to the ground for no good reason making the entire piece look like shit. pls yoshi p just loosen the glam restrictions so you just have to have the class unlocked at that level to glam it onto every other class q_q that would take a minimal amount of effort and it would solve world hunger i swear it would q_q

What did this game make me think about?

The place of Redemption, Accountability and Forgiveness in our current age and its relation to our relationship to Religion.

And just so you're aware it's not the fucking God Exodus Story Line that made me think about any of that, no, that shitty story line has not thought a singular second about any of those points.

Specific Impressions that will stick with me

As much as I hate the story of Myths of the Realm the presentation slaps as always, the raids are gorgeous and Soken does what Soken do. (I'm value neutral on the Raid's difficulty or whatever the community decides to care about these days)

The Left Ending of Sil'dih with the tea table surrounded by flowers (i think it's the left one?) that place is so fckin pretty q_q and i love nanamooo

Outstanding Audio

Basically all of Myths of the Realm except for the Final Boss theme which I hate on principle because Fuck Eulogia

hurts bc dawn of a new era is was my favorite ff14 theme q_q

Troian Beauty in D Minor i don't think it's d minor

Favorite Character

KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE does she count she's barely in it

Nophica with a Gun (the Nophica that wasn't ruined by Myths of a Realm)

Paper Menphina

My Hrothgar Barbariccia OC I wrote to be my wol's shard of the void

And I did like Zero!

Favorite Arc/Story Line

I liked the Void Arc, I know People are big mad about it but I think it's fine! I only think it should have been optional, basically exactly like Stormblood's Four Lords, a Trial Series with a few Dungeons in between - then it wouldn't have had the burden of leading right into Dawntrail (a contrast so stark they couldn't even have tried to smoothen the transition) and people wouldn't have expected Zero to stay immediately relevant too.

Also some of the minor-ish quest lines were cute :)

Favorite Set Piece

I love Lymllaen's arena, it's kind of simple but so effective.

The final trash mobs in Thaleia :)))

Really cool Area with interesting mob design :)))))

A glimpse of what could have been :)))))))))) HOW IS THE FINAL TRASH MOB AREA PRETTIER THAN THE FINAL BOSS ROOM

Favorite Scene

Zero giving Golbez the chance to repent.

Best Performance (I played with JP voices)

AEGISU OBU HARUONE!!!!!!!!!

every single one of the gods was great, but not all of them, if you catch my drift (get it, fuck eulogia)

German Localization Notes

If you know me you know that I think the German FFXIV Localization is better than the English one and it still is and it will continue to be. I gladly pass on meme-y item descriptions if it means that I can expect the translation to not just write whatever it feels like at any given moment. (also, as I have expressed before I can't stand english olden speech writing, thank god the german tl doesn't do all that)

--- ENTERING THE PRETENTIOUS SECTION OF THIS ENTRY ---

What about this game gives me Hope for the future of gaming?

I have nothing really to say, I'm just so excited for Pictomancer you guys, every time I think about it I'm flushed with immense joy. I didn't think they would do it, but it's real. It's actually happening.

I guess what gives me Hope about that is that Yoshi P didn't get too lost in FF16's Fantasy Realism, because drab fantasy aesthetics is truly the worst outcome of lore culture.

What about this game makes me scared for the future of gaming?

You see, there is this thing that has happened since the common consciousness has deemed that Shadowbringers is indeed that good and it's that people kind of immediately turned around to say, that actually, FF14 - WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE BAD BAD STORMBLOOD WHICH IS BAD!!!! - has always been good.

After all Heavensward had that one quest line we all liked, remember, and the one dude died and we all really cared about him, right right right???

And while you are allowed to picture me dismissively pointing at your copy of Heavensward while I'm saying this I don't actually have that big of a take over Heavensward, mainly because I'm not particularly interested in reexamining it since I'm still not over how wildly that writer fumbled FF16's entire narrative point for 'emotional storytelling' or whatever that ending was about, the only thing I will say is that People always bring up the death as this big meaningful thing that's so impactful and how dare you not care about it as if Heavensward hasn't had two other pretty essential characters die for absolutely no good reason apart from conveniently getting rid of a character that would be a hassle to keep up with or setting up character development for another.

Anyways, the problem I actually have was that middle bit, the text in bold where people feel this insistent need to point out that they do indeed know that Stormblood's story is "bad."

But we all know that. It's one of those opinions everyone already shares with each other, because it's pretty obvious. Literally everyone, even and especially the ones who still like it, know that the story leaves at least a little bit to be desired - because different from what certain people online try to make you believe most people are indeed critical of the things they like. A lot of people just don't feel like loudly critizising every little thing they have a problem with, especially when overall they're still enjoying themselves. Some people call it being fun at a party. And if you're constantly nagging, you're not fun at a party - it's not a safe space full of snowflakes, you're just a complainer and that's why nobody wants to talk to you.

It's not that insightful to see that Stormblood didn't quite do it. If you were alone with him in a room even Yoshi-P would admit that Stormblood 'wasn't optimal' or whatever he would say, he's not that stupid, he's just professional enough not to throw his writers under the bus just to bad mouth his own product. And yet there's this certain subset of people that really really needs you to know that the expansion where they cried because that one guy they shipped their oc with died is really really good and yet the other one that's split in half for no reason is really really bad - as if it's something that's needed to be said. As if it's Insightful Commentary we all needed to hear.

I will make this sound more dramatic than I think it really is, but I think the critical reception of Shadowbringers has emboldened the FFXIV community to take their personal (emotional) reaction to a piece of media as proof that a thing is good. I think some link between "I liked it" and "It is good" has been strengthened in some people's minds and some of those people have started to use that for bad by using it as a weapon upgrade in the usual endless complaining about things everyone agrees is bad.

Basically, This thing is Bad has become This thing is Bad, unlike the thing which is clearly Good because I liked it (and look, everyone agrees with me)

Except of course you can like bad things. The Game Awards nominated FF16 for Best Narrative.

And that just makes for repeated situations where people will say shit like "but it's so good because it's bittersweet" about Myths of the Realm - which, great, happy you had an emotional response to all of that - but that's also kind of the bare minimum you should achieve when you decide to kill off characters that are so important to the setting you choose a diety for your character before you choose a name. The Twelve Leaving being sad is Basic Empathy, to me that's not some kind of writing success.

Sadly whoever mangled this sad excuse for a storyline also decided to make sure the exodus of the Twelve somehow left less impact on the game world than fucking YoRHa:Dark Apocalypse and there you people keep complaining about it despite it being a cross-over storyline where something like that shouldn't be expected.

What I want to make clear by pointing this out is that the problem with that isn't that people like something that's bad actually - you can like Myths of the Realm, it's fine - and it's not even something more profound sounding like 'people become "too attached" to a piece of media to the point of being personally insulted when it's critizised.'

Because to that point I say a) of course people feel weird when a thing they like is being bad mouthed that's just a normal human reaction (you know, one of the things art is about, you generally create something to be reacted to) and I don't like how that continually crops up as a rebuttal to people becoming "defensive" over "something meaningless" (nice way to refer to art btw) as if growing attached to a piece of art is something to be ashamed of - and also b): people on the internet overstate the value and necessity of public critique. (not saying it's not important but some people seem to think only their critique alone is the sole way a creator can grow which... i regret to inform you that unsolicited advice is rarely as helpful as you would like it to be, even if it is "correct".)

I think the problem is that these 'criticisms' don't come out of a genuine "empathy" for the thing they like - unlike some people seem to have convinced themselves - because if that was the case maybe we would actually get not necessarily a productive discussion - none of us is working on this game after all (and honestly it's okay to stop pretending that somebody who does listens) - but it would be a more interesting one for sure. I can't tell you what to like (as much as I would love to), but I can encourage you to have more meaningful introspections into what you love than to blindly accept those tired talking points everyone is repeating at nauseam.

And with more meaningful I don't actually mean 'deep' it just means being honest to yourself and your feelings, even and especially if it is something completely mundane.

Because I think a lot of this is the opposite - this is people parroting common points about the thing that is popular to be part of the in-group with as little personal stake as possible - and by punching down on the out-group you can strengthen your place in the crowd, your social capital. It's bullying masquerading as 'valid criticisms', or maybe even Nerd Populism. if only we had an alliance raid series about that.

The Ramble Section where I get to actually talk about what I thought about

I would love nothing more than to 'valid criticism' all over Myths of the Realm - but that would take 15 pages of a Google Doc and I think down here is really not the place.

It's just sad to see the Twelve, Aglaia, Euphrosyne and 3/4ths of Thaleia be absolutely wasted for a shitty resolution that spits in the face not only of our beloved made-up history facts known as Lore but also the entire premise of ARR to Stormblood. But hey, at least it's bittersweet am i right

Anyways, let's Ramble about Ancient Greek Pronounciation.

I haven't had Ancient Greek in School (I could have, but Latin was already old and boring enough for me, thanks) so I had to scrape together how to pronounce Euphrosyne just so I can be annoying about it and as much as I want to say Oi-pro-sü-neh (I think English Speakers don't have the german ü sound, it's basically the same as in the french word rue) because it's much easier to pronounce, Ancient Greek makes a difference between Eu and Oi and I fail to understand how the Eu sounds no matter how many times I listen to it.

By which I mean, you can pretend it's You-froze-a-knee as much as you want, it's wrong and you sound foolish.

#ffxiv #ff14 #endwalker #atarasegamediary

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years ago

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hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF.

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil.

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad.

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

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valdomarx · 4 years ago

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Inseparably Entwined

Stargate Atlantis, McKay/Sheppard, bound together, 2k, rated M

Elizabeth pinches the bridge of her nose. "What did you two do now?"

"We. Uhh. We found another Ancient device."

"And, instead of cataloguing it for a hazmat team to investigate, as per protocol, you decided to play with it?"

“To investigate it,” Rodney corrects. “Like the competent professionals we are.” John punches him in the arm.

Elizabeth's lips purse into a thin line. "And then you accidentally activated it?"

John winces. "And then we accidentally activated it."

"Of course you did. And its effects are…?"

"Non lethal," Rodney says, a bit too quickly.

Elizabeth mumbles something that might be don't bet on it under her breath. "Non lethal, but…?"

John shifts his weight and stares at a point behind her head. "McKay and I have to stay within ten feet of each other at all times or we both pass out."

For a moment there is stunned silence. Then the sound of Elizabeth's bark of laughter fills the office and spills out into the gate room.

Carson waves a hand. “You’re both going to be fine. It looks like the bond is only temporary.”

Rodney fidgets. “How temporary?”

“I couldn’t say. A few days, maybe a few weeks?”

“Weeks?” John chokes out. “Listen, doc, we need you to fix this -”

Carson cuts him off. “I’m sorry, son, but I’ve got more important things on my plate right now.” He looks pointedly around the infirmary which is admittedly full of marines being treated for combat injuries, Athosians coming in for checkups, and troops of medical staff organizing vaccinations for off-world groups.

John deflates. “So we’re stuck with each other?”

Carson pats him on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Rodney looks up at that. “Hey!”

“Absolutely not.” John recoils in horror. “We are not sleeping in your room.”

“But all my stuff is in there.”

“Your room is disgusting. If you think I’m sleeping on the floor among half-finished bags of cheetos and bits of drones, you are sorely mistaken. It’s a wonder you haven’t attracted the Lantean equivalent of rats.”

“I’ll have you know the bags of cheetos are almost entirely finished.”

“Rodney -”

“Alright! We’ll sleep in your oh-so-tidy quarters. Military spick and span, no snacks or useful bits of machinery in sight.” Rodney rounds on him, waving a finger in his face. “But if I get an inspired idea in the middle of the night and can’t find a circuit board to test it on, know that it’s your stubbornness that is robbing humanity of another of my great concepts.”

John hides a smile. “I’ll have to find a way to live with myself.”

When the doors to John’s quarters slide open, Rodney’s jaw drops.

“Hey! How come you have a bigger bed than me?”

John shoots him a smug look. “I upgraded after the last attack. Benefits of command.” It was one of the very few benefits of command he was willing to take advantage of.

“Oh, that’s how it is, hmm? We’re living in a military dictatorship here, with all the best perks and boons given to the highest ranking officers? Never mind that it’s the scientists who do all the actual work, who discover new technology and solve the problems, oh no, let’s give out the biggest and comfiest beds to the military guys, as if that’s fair -”

“McKay!” he interrupts. Rodney looks like he’s having fun, gearing up for a good rant, but John honestly can’t take it right now. “Go to sleep, I’m begging you.”

Rodney huffs, clearly saving that rant away for another time. “Fine.”

John is woken up for the third time that night by Rodney fidgeting on the floor and sighing dramatically.

“What is it, McKay?” His voice is testy. He doesn’t love having his sleep interrupted.

“I can’t get comfortable. A sleeping bag on the floor is bad for my back.”

John stares at the ceiling and counts to ten. He looks at the ample space next to him and calculates his best odds of getting some sleep tonight. “Come here and share the bed with me then.”

Rodney eyes his mattress dubiously. “I’ll have you know I require a very firm mattress, for spinal support, not that I’d expect you to understand -”

“For god’s sake, get in the bed. It has to be better than the floor.”

A moment’s pause. “Yeah, alright.”

It’s been a long time since John slept next to someone. His rare hookups have mostly involved sneaking out in the middle of the night, and even when he was married they slept in separate beds most of the time.

Sleeping next to Rodney is, surprisingly, not awful though. Sure, he steals all the covers and moves around all the time and, of course, he snores, but John finds that he strangely doesn’t mind.

John has seen Rodney under fire, seen him at his best, seen him happy and sad and angry and bored. But he’s never seen him first thing in the morning before.

“Whazzat?” Rodney’s eyes barely open. His expression is one of overriding confusion. “Whzz going on?”

John stifles a smile at his resident genius. He’s been up for an hour already, showered, done his laundry, and cleaned his space. He’s also decided to play nice and share his secret.

“Here,” he says, and hands a mug of freshly brewed coffee to Rodney. “Just don’t tell anyone I snuck coffee and a kettle into my personal effects, or the scientists will raid us in the middle of the night.”

“Coffee!” Rodney is still radiating confusion, but he hones in on the cup of coffee like a laser. A blissful smile passes over his face. “You brought me coffee.”

“I did.”

“You’re wonderful.” Rodney takes the coffee and cradles it like something precious and rare.

After a day and a half doing paperwork in the lab because they can't go off-world, John has reached the end of his rope.

"I'm going to the gym," he snaps. "You can either come with me or we'll both end up in the infirmary when I try to go there alone."

Rodney glares and is clearly about to start arguing when Zelenka elbows him. He sighs dramatically but agrees that they can take an hour away.

While they're both in the gym and John needs a sparring partner, he figures he might as well teach Rodney some self defense. The idea of Rodney needing to defend himself makes something unpleasant twist in his gut, but he pushes that away and argues they should make the most of this time and do something productive. To his surprise, Rodney agrees, and they run through some basic drills and defensive maneuvers.

Rodney is bad at this, frankly. He's all elbows and poor coordination, but he's trying.

John is feeling magnanimous, and he knows the value of a bit of positive reinforcement. So when Rodney steps forward and attempts a clumsy hip throw, he leans in and lets himself be thrown.

Rodney looks astonished that actually worked, before delightedly pouncing on John and pinning him to the floor.

"Got you," he says, face pink and grinning wickedly.

John's heart picks up, somehow distracted by Rodney's heavy weight on him and the sharp brightness of his smile. He swallows thickly.

"I guess you do."

“Geez, Sheppard, how long does it take to have a shower?” Rodney’s voice carries through the bathroom door. “I want to run some simulations on the city’s power systems with Zelenka.”

John’s cheeks flush and he tries to tune Rodney out. “Just give me a minute, will you?”

“What are you doing in there anyway, jerking off?”

John goes very, very still.

“Oh my god, you are!”

“Shut up, McKay.”

“No, no, don’t let me stop you. You go ahead and enjoy yourself.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m not judging. It’s perfectly natural. And hey, maybe it’ll help you chill the fuck out for once.”

John scowls, gives up, and shoves his dick back in his pants. “I will kill you in your sleep.”

John is used to having to drag McKay around after him on missions, so in some ways their new situation isn’t entirely unfamiliar.

Tac vests are useful for that; full of hand holds he can grab when he needs McKay to get down under cover or to stop him from wandering off to look at some shiny piece of technology. When Rodney is in uniform, he can grab the collar of his shirt, though Rodney complains that it creases the fabric horribly.

So John finds a compromise. When he has stuff to do and Rodney is dawdling, he grabs his hand and steers him in the right direction. After a while it becomes second nature - whenever there’s danger or something important is happening, he takes Rodney’s hand and they set off to deal with it together.

If any of the marines find it funny to see their commander holding hands with the head of science during a crisis, none of them dares to mention it.

John is carefully, carefully tending to his hair. Just the right amount of product, to spike it just the right amount to look effortless. He tweaks and ruffles, tugs and shapes. This is an art form which requires judicious maintenance.

“Oh, for the love of -” Rodney grabs the tub of hair wax out of his hands. “We’ll be here all day. Let me.”

He steps forward and slides his hands into John’s hair, ruffling it vigorously. His fingers are firm on John’s scalp and he tugs just on the right side of too hard.

Rodney steps back and surveys his work. “That’ll do.”

John glances in the mirror and sees a chaotic, wild mess. He looks like he’s run a marathon, with his pink cheeks and mussed hair, or like he’s rolled out of bed after a night of passion.

“Rodney! I can’t go out like this.”

“Oh, shut up. You look smoking hot, like you always do.”

That’s… What? What does that mean? Why the hell would Rodney say that?

“Come on,” Rodney is saying, already on his way out the door. John has to run after him, cheeks still flushed.

They find a rhythm.

John gets up first and puts the coffee on while he showers. He’s given up on trying to tidy Rodney’s side of the room, so he lets the piles of circuit boards and screwdrivers sprout up where they will. Once Rodney is up they get breakfast at the mess, then he spends the morning doing paperwork and writing reports in the science lab while Rodney works. They meet Teyla and Ronon for lunch, then he spends the afternoon drilling the marines while Rodney taps away at a laptop. Evenings, they bicker over which movies to watch in their quarters and throw popcorn at each other.

Elizabeth even agrees to let them travel to the mainland, and then to go on low-stakes reconnaissance missions.

It’s… comfortable, he realizes. It works.

That thought makes something twist in his chest, and he doesn’t know why.

“Morning, sunshine.” John pours Rodney a cup of coffee.

“Mmm.” Rodney is still sleep-rumpled, but he struggles upright and smiles softly. “Morning.”

As he hands over the coffee, Rodney catches his wrist and holds him there. He looks down at the mug, then back up at John. John notices in an abstract way that his eyes are very, very blue.

“Thanks,” Rodney says, and pecks him on the lips.

Right. Okay. That’s a thing. That’s a thing they’re doing now.

John is still processing as Rodney gets up and heads for the shower. “I’ve got a meeting with Miko this morning,” he says over his shoulder, normal as ever, “so we might have to push our gym session back by half an hour -”

He keeps chattering away while John sits on the bed and has a minor crisis. Did they… do they… but that would mean…

By the time Rodney is out of the shower, John has made a decision.

He doesn’t allow himself to overthink it, he just takes Rodney’s face in his hands and kisses him deeply. Rodney’s arms tighten around his waist and his tongue slips into his mouth and oh. Oh yes. That’s good.

John’s a little breathless, a little dizzy. “Are we really doing this?” he asks.

Rodney’s face scrunches up in amusement. “I think we’ve been doing this for weeks.”

Yeah. Okay. That’s a fair point.

The tense feeling that’s been winding around his chest uncoils, and in its place is nothing but blooming warmth.

“I guess we have.”

EPILOGUE

“Carson.” Elizabeth looks up from where she’s frowning at a tablet and gives him a polite nod. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Any time,” Carson says, and means it. “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to get an update on the situation with John and Rodney. We really do need them to get back on full duty soon.”

“Ahh.” He’s been carefully avoiding that topic. He takes a breath. “To be honest with you, the bond between them wore off days ago. They could go their separate ways now and be none the worse for it.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows fly upward toward her hairline. “And you haven’t told them yet?”

“See, at first they were in the infirmary every day asking for an update. But they haven’t been in for over a week and -”

“And?”

“They seem…” he pauses, contemplating his choice of words, “... happy.”

Elizabeth’s mouth twitches into a quickly suppressed smile. “That may be, but you have a professional responsibility.”

“Aye, you’re right. I’ll go and tell them the effects of the device have run their course.”

“Well…” Elizabeth looks thoughtful. “You have a professional responsibility to give them accurate medical information when they ask for it.”

Carson sees where she’s going with this. “And until then?”

Elizabeth shrugs and gives him a sly look. “They do seem happy.”

#mcshep #stargate atlantis #my writing #sometimes you must write the fic you want to see in the world

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

Text

Lighthearted Domesticity // C.D. (celebration fic)

Request: Also can you do one with Cedric? With fluff prompts 4 and 13? Thank you 💕 - @kashishwrites

Fluff 4: “Is that my shirt?”

Fluff 13: “Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls.”

A/N: So the song involved here is PJ and Duncan - Let’s Get Ready to Rhumble and honestly, it’s a masterpiece. I strong recommend you listen to it at some point if you haven't already. I’m so sorry it isn't longer! I’ve been so busy recently! Despite that, I hope you like!

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, FLUFF, FLUFF.

Word count: 1k+

The red front door looms in front of Cedric like a heavenly beacon after a long day at the Ministry. Friday had taunted him since Wednesday; taunting him by being so close in reach, but too far to grab properly. Now that it’s finally Friday, happiness washes over him as he unlocks the door; pausing just on the threshold as he lets the welcoming scent of sandalwood and lavender overtake him.

The downstairs is all quiet as Cedric hangs his coat. Out of habit, Cedric checks every room in search for you – refusing to give in to the slowly rising panic within. It felt a natural reaction did the panic when his eyes couldn’t find you and his hands couldn’t touch you. After all, Cedric had lived through a war that you had no inkling about until three years ago when Cedric told you his story. The graveyard, the subsequent war, and the final duel between a heinous man and a teenager barely a man.

The tinny noise of your stereo is what alerts Cedric to your whereabouts in the house that he’s shared with you for only half a year but plans to share for a lifetime. He hauls himself upstairs; wanting nothing more than to lay eyes on you after a long day in central London.

The music comes from your shared bedroom, and not long after taking the final step onto the landing does Cedric hear you singing along. An automatic smile breaks across his face at the sound of you enjoying yourself.

Cedric watches you recite the lyrics with expert timing, dancing around the bedroom as you fold the washing. He leans against the doorframe; happy for the moment to watch you dance without knowing of his presence. You bob your head as you fold up a set of pyjamas, setting them into piles of his and yours yet he knows full well you’ll be raiding his drawers tonight for something of his to wear.

“What are you listening to?” He calls out; laughing at how you gasp and turn.

“Art, Cedric. Art,” You laugh, pointing at him with a large smile.

“It’s not my sort of thing, I’ll tell you that much.”

“I’ll have you know this is top music in muggle society.”

“Then I’ll stick to music from the wizarding world.”

You gasp; dramatically placing your hand on your heart, “You wound me, Ced.”

Pausing the conversation, you shimmy over to your stereo. You lower the volume, but still keep it loud enough for you to be able to sing along to the song that defined your life through the 90s. Introducing Cedric to your teenage obsessions had been an interesting period of your relationship; it gave him the chance to see how different muggle life was when he was entering one of the hardest periods of his own life. He couldn’t help the relief that washed over him when he realised that the second wizarding war had not disturbed your life.

“Slammin’ it, jammin’ it, do what you like,” You sing; thickening your northern accent as you dance your way to him.

Cedric claps his hands as he starts to laugh but he has to admit to himself that he is thankful when the song ends, and he can hear himself think once again. With a final twirl, you switch off the stereo; letting the room sink into silence once again.

“Hi,” You finally greet with a large smile.

“Hi,” Cedric replies, smiling from his spot at the door.

“Is that my shirt?”

You look down at your clothes. With a laugh, you realise that you are in fact wearing Cedric’s shirt, “I think it is! I threw it on this morning when I started doing the jobs. I did wonder why I missed you more today; it had to be because I was smelling you more.”

Cedric beams; his smile wide and his eyes bright at the sound of your words. The relationship was just over three years old, but for Cedric, the honeymoon period was far from over. Each new day, getting to wake up to you, presented him with something new to love, something new to adore about you.

He pushes himself off the doorframe to make his way to you. His hands caress your face; thumbs stroking your cheekbones. Cedric’s grey eyes shine with unadulterated happiness as he gazes over your face. You bring your hands up to his; happy to have him home from what looks to have been a long day for him.

“Compared to you: stars pale, and the moon dulls,” Cedric whispers; half in awe, half seriously.

You roll your eyes, but you smile broadly at his words – butterflies raging in your stomach, “Cedric Diggory: you are nothing but a flirt.”

“But I only enjoy flirting with you.”

“I should hope so!” You tease.

He folds you into his arms with a laugh, “How was your day?”

You hum; wrapping your arms around him and inhaling his scent – juniper and sandalwood. It smelled like home. “It’s been a productive day – got all the jobs I wanted to get done, done before I’m back at work tomorrow.”

“I’m guessing the washing was the last job,” Cedric chuckles.

“It wasn’t meant to be, but I forgot it was in the dryer when I was prepping dinner.”

Cedric groans, “And you’ve made food? How are you this perfect?”

You hide your face in his chest; feeling the heat rush to your face, “Not perfect, far from it. Just happy to be here with you.”

“We’ll agree to disagree then.”

“How was work?”

“Long. I missed you too much.”

“We’ve already established that I missed you too.”

Cedric yawns; finally letting the tiredness that has hung over him all day, take over him. A yearning blooms inside him; his plans for the night now only revolve around eating whatever you’ve cooked, cuddles on the couch and falling asleep with you in his arms.

Pulling away all too soon, you take his hand in yours as you lead him back downstairs and to the kitchen. Cedric follows you around the house; knowing he would follow you absolutely anywhere and he begins to wonder whether beginning to live his future now wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

*********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites

#cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory fanfic #cedric diggory fluff #cedric x reader #cedric x you #cedric imagine #cedric diggory x you #cedric x y/n #cedric diggory x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #my writing #fluff #cedric fluff #cedric diggory reader insert #x reader #reader insert

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luimnigh · 9 months ago

Text

That's good advice, me.

(FYI: Partial means I watched a significant amount, but not enough to count as a full watch. Might get back to it, might not.)

January:

Movies:

Sister Act 2: Back In The Habit: First Movie I watched this year. Weird way to start a year.

How To Train Your Dragon: Still a fantastic movie. Quite possibly the only animated film my parents consider art.

Honey I Shrunk The Kids: Hadn't watched this in years. Pretty good. Practical effects don't hold up.

Nimona: Maybe should have saved this film for Easter, being a movie that came back from the dead.

Mary Poppins: We watched Mary Poppins Returns over Christmas and my Mom couldn't remember if she'd seen the original.

My Neighbour Totoro: My first Ghibli. Should probably get around to watching more.

In The Heat of The Night (Partial): I caught the last hour of it on TV and holy crap do I need to track down the rest.

Voyage Of The Dawn Treader (Partial): Caught the last half on TV. Fun enough movie.

The Revenant (Partial): Once again, the last hour. Fairly interesting.

Series:

Arcane: ...how do League of Legends show be good?

Percy Jackson: Damn good adaptation. I've seen some criticism, some I agree with and some I don't, but I was satisfied.

Jet Lag: The Game Season 8: Okay, so this is technically a Youtube series, but it's weekly 40+ minute episodes of a game show. It counts.

Murder Drones (Partial): Also a Youtube series, but it's 20+ min episodes of animation, it counts. Watched this because my nephew is really into it, and I wanted to be able to talk to him about his interests.

February:

Movies:

Groundhog Day: Yes, I watched it on February 2nd.

Zoo (2017): A based-on-a-true-story kid's movie about a group of Belfast children trying to save a baby Elephant from being euthanised alongside the rest of the Zoo's large animals, because the authorities are afraid of them escaping if the Zoo is damaged by Nazi bombing raids.

Quadrophenia: The story of a young man who sacrifices his whole life to live out a subculture that nobody else takes as seriously as he does. Based on an album by The Who.

Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit (Partial): When I say I partially watched it, I was in the room playing Ace Attorney while my parents watched it.

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (Partial): Now I just need to watch the last half of To Sir With Love to partially complete the Sidney Poitier 1967 trifecta.

Missing Link (Partial): Breaking with the pattern, I caught the first half hour of this film. Gotta love a Laika.

Dr Zhivago (Partial): When I say I caught the last half of this film, I mean I watched an hour and a half of this movie, and it still only counts as half.

Series:

Mrs Wilson: Three-episode miniseries about a woman uncovering her late husband's infidelities and secrets, complicated by the fact that both of them worked for British Intelligence. A true story about the lead actress' grandmother. It's fucking good.

Video Games:

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney: Good game, though I feel like the DLC case tacked on the end dragged it out a bit.

Phoenix Wright: Justice for All: I really do like how the Psyche-Lock system gives uses for the evidence in the investigation stage.

Books:

Iron Widow: Fun book, good read, some heavy subject matter, really liked learning about the elements of Imperial China that ended up in the story. Climax felt a bit rushed, though, it escalated fairly quickly.

March:

Movies:

Last Action Hero: If you're aware of my taste in superheroes, it should come as no surprise that I fucking love this movie.

Logan: Still makes me cry. Goddamn.

Death On The Nile (1978): I have genuinely been on a riverboat down the Nile, and now I feel cheated with the lack of murders.

The Devil's Own: IRA man goes to New York to buy Stinger missiles. Grows attached to cop he's staying with. Can't tell if Brad Pitt's Irish accent is bad or not.

Nobody: Love a good action film where you can see the main character get progressively more beaten up.

Master And Commander: The Far Side of The World (Partial): Long title. Long movie. Literally could not watch it all.

Series:

Blue Eye Samurai: You know, this is the first time I've really liked an Irish villain in non-Irish media? Usually it's just stereotypes out the wazoo, but Abijah Fowler's a breath of fresh air. It's just... true that people who suffered under colonisation can turn around and join their oppressors in oppressing others. He's a man who had great cruelty visited upon him, and decided the only way to never be hurt like that again is to visit that pain on others. The rest of the show is damn good too.

Delicious In Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi (Partial): Oh, it's an absolute delight.

Jet Lag: The Game Season 9 (Partial): Genuinely forgot to add this to my March roundup. Maybe because in between March ending and me posting the roundup the season finale aired and it stopped being Partial. Anyway, honestly, I felt this season suffered from the concept. Hide and seek is hard to make look interesting.

Books:

Gideon The Ninth (Partial): I really need to just sit down and dedicate a few hours to reread it to completion. I'm sneaking a few pages whenever I have time at the bus stop, and it's taken me weeks to get to the sparring matches organised by Coronabeth.

Looking back, I spent most of last year in a depressive funk. There were some high moments, but after about March I just stopped doing the stuff I enjoy. I didn't read books, I didn't watch movies, the last videogame I played to completion was in May, I only went to the Cinema twice...

I just took the quick dopamine hit from stuff like youtube videos and social media scrolling.

I gotta fix that. I gotta get back to the things I enjoy.

So my New Year's Resolution, probably the first time I've ever seriously done one, is to enjoy more art.

I'm gonna record every movie and series watched, every book read, every game played- and I'm gonna finish a bunch of those I started and never ended.

No goal, just more.

#luimnigh's NYR 2024

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skampi835 · 4 years ago

Text

Peevish Herbs and Sassy Medicine (Ieyasu x OC)

This is a chapter from one of my bigger fanfictions, I’m writing. But I’m too shy to post the whole thing anywhere... (because I’m doubting myself and my english too much)

But I’m quite pleased with this oneshot (so I corrected and re-readed it multible times)! Have fun while reading! I hope you’ll enjoy.

The scene takes place one day after arriving in Azuchi so it’s not the first encounter with Ieyasu, but their first... well... kind of conversation?

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Language: english

Starring: Ieyasu x OC

Genre: Comedy

Warning: none

Word Count: 2.900

“Hey there, Ina! Masamune invited me to a stroll into town. I’m sure you’re not in the mood since your face is still puffy and all. So I understand when you don’t want to. I just leave you a note, so you know he’s looking out for me. cya!”

Oh well... it’s all right... I guess. Have a nice time, Rei -- WithOUT me!

Exasperated Ina’s sitting by the table in their room. Narrowing her grey blue eyes, she’s analyzing over the letter again, and yes, she's actually analyzing every single word. The female also would have loved to go strolling into town. Because she felt asleep during the ride back to the castle, she hasn't yet seen anything from it. Adventuring with her dear friend - and crony from the future - Rei, would have been so much fun, besides the puffy face Ina had because of mister spooky guy!

Stealing my friend on the first day, huh? Sneaky Masamune...

Absently Ina’s reaching for the sweets Masamune had brought over before he'd so casually took up her friend. Munching over them the sweet taste of the incrediences spreads over her tounge and she couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty for her thoughts, while she's dreamily enjoying the treats. They are sooo delicious! Ina has never expected that! Didn't Masamune mentioned, he has made them himself? How amazing!

“I’m not in the mood anyway.” Ina says somewhat confident to herself, while eating the sweets happily. But what is she supposed to do after? Hideyoshi had sent her away before, to handle Ranmaru and like he said she wasn’t given free access to the castle or it’s staff. Heavily Ina sighs after finishing the last mochi.

Her vision’s crossing Rei’s letter again.

You know what? What Hideyoshi doesn’t know won’t hurt him!

_____

Armed with a wipe and a bucket filled with water, Ina’s entering the archives. Her eyes are scanning her surroundings in which the massive shelves flank the room. Particles of dust are lightly dancing in the rays of shining sunlight from the small window above her, like illuminating sparks. Lanterns are shimmering luminously the walls, uncovering heavy, valuable looking tapestries. Great shelves are arching under the sheer weight of the books, scrolls and other stuff that they store. The smell of parchment and ink fills the the dusty air.

Ina’s truly impressed about the enourmus mass the archive is holding. She hasn’t expected seeing something like this in this time, when books and great knowledge should be merely rare.

“Hello?” Ina waits and listens after raising her voice. She wants to be sure, that there’s nobody else here, particulaly Hideyoshi, who would’ve bickered with her, why she’s even in there. The perfect silence remains at first, when she catches on a brief clink and a brushing tone.

Looking around, Ina quickly finds the source of the sound, when she’s seeing a little bird over the window. It disappears under the ceiling, before returning and it finally flies away.

Phew, just a birdnest in the ceiling, I guess.

Closing the door behind, Ina’s passing the shelves. Her eyes are flying over the spines of the books and scroll, astonished and visibly impressed. Originally planned she would have use the wipe to dust the inside, but Ina is way too stunned about the fullness of the archives. Though she has trouble in reading them, the female is concentrating on the written characters.

Honestly Ina curses herself, for not being more intent, when she learned kanji for her trip to Japan. And now she can’t barely read anything at all, because the letters are looking not just foreign, but alien.

The bookshelves are rowing the walls and even outlining in the middle, separating the room into three small sections. It’s not nearly enough to call it a library, like Ina’s uses to know from her own time, but it definitely amazes her.

She’s stopping at a table, which she brushes the dust off with the wipe. Placing the bucket at the corner, Ina turns to dust the nearest shelf as well, though the oddly sensation of the knowledge the archives are holding, is attracting her like magic and get the better of her.

Abandoning her good intentions of cleaning, Ina’s facing the nearest shelf. Some of the scrolls look pretty old, though most of the books don’t. Curiously Ina leans nearer so she could read the headlines on the spines, though she has huge problems deciphering them.

... You know what? When I’m about to spent my upcoming three months here, I could at least do something useful and learn something new. Didn’t Nobunaga say I could just spend my time in Azuchi, doing girly stuff??

Not sure if reading is that kind of girly stuff, Nobunaga was talking about, Ina's concentrating on reading the characters. She truly holds a big interest in the use of medicine in these time period. Even in her present day, the european medicine often implies alternative Chinese medicine as a support. What’s the difference between Japanese and Chinese medicine and their herbs, she wonders?

She just has to find the right section where she can find those books and then... well, maybe Rei will help her read them! So Ina hopes... Nonetheless Ina's determining sure in becoming better with reading, when she’ll try.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure she’s still alone, Ina’s taking a deep breath. With narrow eyes Ina reads slowly and aloud: “’Mental Honor’... ‘Fall of Hogan-Ji’,... ‘The Art of War’... - oh wait, I think I actually know this book!”

“Would you mind, being quiet?”

The sullen hiss that suddenly sounds from not that afar startles Ina nearly to death. An anxious meep slips through her lips while giving a jerk. Rapidly blinking Ina’s listening to the remaining silence bewildered. “Eh... Hello?” Unsure she asks. Ina was certain, that she had been alone! Yet someone noticed her poor reading!

Silence...

And a quiet grunt.

Slowly Ina reaches about two books before her and shoves them gently to the side. A peevish Ieyasu’s frowning annoyingly at her from the other side of the bookshelf.

Embarrassed, Ina is sheepishly gazing back at him. “What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? Reading in silence.” was his curt answer.

“And why didn’t you just answer when I've entered? You have really startled me.” Shame’s uncomfortably heating her head and Ina truly feels like an idiot. Though Ieyasu doesn’t seem to notice, while he's gazing tiredly back at her through the hole in the shelf. “I didn’t thought you’re actually going to stay.”

What kind of reason is that?

When Ina met Ieyasu the first time, she felt more like encountering a spikey raid boss with venom abilities:

Yesterday

Curiously Ina’s watching the other man, with bright, tousled hair. He’s smaller than Mitsunari and Mitsuhide. Though to be honest, being taller than Mitsuhide would be quite the challenge! Yet Ieyasu nearly seem to be petite, just looking at her with sharp green eyes.

Since Ina's the foreign here, she’s feeling the urge in doing the first step. It couldn’t hurt to be on good terms with the guys here, even if at least one of them is a shady tease. “Hello, my Name’s Ina. Nice to meet you.”

Ieyasu's inclining his head, slightly narrowing his eyes skeptically. “You don’t look as I imagined.” He says and leaves Ina quite puzzled. “Pardon, but what do you mean?”

“You look terribly pitiful.” Ieyasu bluntly retorts. Wow... that one quickly turns out to be a salty one... They've hardly talked, yet Ina got the feeling he doesn’t like her.

“How intent of you, Lord Ieyasu.” Mitsunari beams with a stunningly gentle smile and nods towards Ieyasu. “Lady Ina sure needs some rest after that long horse ride and the harsh night she’d just had. I guess a bath will also help her to ease.”

Ina always felt at calm, when she looks at Mitsunari’s calm and angelic smile since arriving in this era. Mitsunari’s by far the nicest person she’s ever met, even in her own time! But in this moment Mitsunari’s tender words and soft smile doesn’t seem to convince Ina. Glancing haltingly back at Ieyasu, as he grumpily rolls his eyes with a snort, confirms Ina in her assumption. Ieyasu wasn’t intent at all... He just was rude!

“Whatever.” Ieyasu says with an annoyingly heavy sigh and is glancing back at Ina. “You don’t need medical treatment, do you?” he asks.

After blinking confused about his sudden offer, Ina shakes her head. “No, thank you. I’m fine, just a little bit tired.”

“Good.” Ieyasu nods and is walking away without another word. Ina carefully follows his steps with her grey blue eyes.

“Lord Ieyasu is also a vessal of Lord Nobunaga. And I can quite tell that he likes you.” Mitsunari’s smiling warmly at Ina, while she peers at him doubtfully. “Uhm sure... If you say so.” Ina surely wasn’t sure though.

Still looking at Ieyasu, Ina’s wondering if he has another of his bad moods. By the looks of him, he’s not in a good mood by any means. “Will you stop staring at me?” Ieyasu brusque retorts and pulls Ina out of her thoughts. “It’s hard to concentrate.”

“Ahm I-... Sorry Ieyasu.” Ina quickly says and is bashfully tousling her hair. “I... was looking for a book earlier to read.”

“That stammering didn’t sound like you could read at all.”

Ina’s opening her mouth in attempt to defend herself. But she couldn't tell him, that she’s used to read in another language with different alphabetic characters! Nonetheless she is able to read at all!

Okay Ina, be nice to him. Maybe he’ll understand.

“I-- err... am not used to it. Reading I mean. But I like to study.”

“Are you an idiot?” Ieyasu scoffs monotonously. “How can you study if you’re not able to read?”

Ina’s face darkens a tiny bit, gritting her teeth. Because of Sasuke she can’t tell him the truth and it might be better that way. So she’s avoiding strange questions or worse the dungeons, because when she's not declaired crazy she might would be claimed a spy. With a silent sigh Ina’s rounding the shelf to face Ieyasu. He’s sitting by an table with a pile of books. Next to him a brush, ink stone and blank papers. “Even if I’m not a good reader, I’m willing to lean it. I just like to learn.”

Not having the barrier of a shelf between them any longer, Ieyasu’s dropping his gaze to his books. “Then do it muted and elsewhere. You’re interrupting my studies.”

Puzzled Ina’s blinking a few times, while Ieyasu does his best to intent she’s not even here anymore. “Excuse me. I guess I’m confused. I thought you warlords don’t study anything else then strategy or warfare.”

Ieyasu’s peering coldly at her. The unspoken question ‘Are you an idiot?’ clear written in his annoyed face. A sudden rush of embarrassment is rushing Ina's face again, because of her own flawing logic. The sudden time travel thing might was really too much for her. Apologetically Ina raises her hands. “I am sorry. I spoke out of mind.”

“Stop chitchatting. It’s one-sided.” Ieyasu snarls, still piercing Ina with his sharp green eyes, and is sending an enormous wave of aversion towards her, before continuing writing with a brush.

... be nice to him, Ina. He doesn’t understand. But how could he possibly understand?

Ina can’t blame him. Her attitude must be awkward for him. She should be a normal girl from a village that’s not pointed on any map. Without Rei she feels so lonely and lost in this role though. For Rei it's easier pretending to be someone else. She's fitting for acting. Meanwhile Ina’s feeling like stumbling from one puddle to another.

With the attempt of apologizing, Ina’s bowing her head, when she caught sight of an open book on the table. She knows the drawing from her earlier times, when she was in nursing school. It was short theme back then. It shows with dots the spots of particular nerves which could be stimulate to relieve pain. “Oh, is this... about medical practices?”

Ieyasu almost leans back overly hurried, when Ina’s leaning eagerly forth to get a closer look of the page. Knitting his brows, he snorts “And if it is?”

“I--...” Ina’s quick thinking of a way to explain it to him that wouldn’t sound too awkward. For she can’t tell him, that she’s a nurse either. Propably he wouldn’t even know what a nurse is. Sheepishly she smiles: “Sometimes I helped the medics in my hometown.”

Pointing on the drawing with the nerve between thumb and index finger, Ina continues: “When you stimulate this nerve with pressure or a needle, you effectuate some linking to heal headache. But mostly headache comes off when you drink too less. Also you might try to bind fresh peppermint in a wet towel and place it your nape, because of the--”

Before Ina finishes her word, she’s stopping, facing the blankly looking Ieyasu. He even looks a little surprised in the flicker of the lanterns. “You know... western techniques?” He’s asking perplexing sincere.

Ina knows, that she’d spoken too much, that is why, she’s awkwardly tousling her hair again: “Ah I- no. Not really I just know a little about bit. You know my village lays really behind of the mountains.”

Ieyasu’s staring at Ina with puckered brows. Though after a while, he scoffs and draws his book from her. “I thought so.”

Slightly frustrated Ina’s clenching her hands under the table. Ieyasu had called her pitiful before. And a waif at the council. But it would be way too suspicious, if she would offer him to explain some medicine practices she knows from her time. Medicine no one in this time would ever believe will exist someday! For a short moment Ina has thought, that might be a thing they could share. That Ieyasu might be a little nicer to her, if she’ll show her interest. Still Ina’s determined to learn something about the traditional eastern medicine. “Hey? Maybe you could teach me a little, Ieyasu?” Ina’s asking with a consolidative smile.

Raising his head, Ieyasu’s staring at Ina intensly: “No.” and declines quickly.

Shot down in an instand. Encounter Boss is reaching the enrage timer!

“I understand.” Ina slowly nods. “You have important things to do and I’m robbing your spare time you have, huh?”

Ieyasu doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t even have to. According to Rei, he’s the one who will unify Japan. Technically speaking he’ll finish, where Nobunaga and Hideyoshi failed. But in this time as well? Even when Nobunaga's still alive? Again Ina fears for the trouble she and Rei have already caused in messing with the time. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I’ll leave you to your studies then. Though do you mind helping me to find a book about local herbs? I guess that’ll be a good start for me.”

Ieyasu, understandable deeply annoyed in the meantime, is frowning at Ina. “No. Go find it on your own.”

Knitting her brows Ina’s looking questioning at Ieyasu. Peevishly he's mirroring her.

... You are just rude again! You know what? I don’t need to play nice, when you’re not even trying!

“Fine.” Ina’s saying provocatively loud, while standing up. “I shall go and find my them on my own then.” Sassily she’s emphasising every syllable and faces the books in the shelf next to her. With ostentation she’s pointing a finger on the spines of the books and reads loudly with her utterly bad reading skills: “‘Forged in Iron’..., ‘Forming Armor’,... ‘Art of Forging’... Huh, I might be in the wrong section here.”

“... Stop.”

Ieyasu jumps onto his heels, grumpily snorting as he passes Ina. He walkes determined right to a shelf on the wall and is directly dragging three books out of it. He spins around and is pressing them into Ina’s arms. Dumbfounded she’s catching them. “Thank-...”

“Sod off!”

With his hand on her back Ieyasu’s pushing Ina through the archives and shoves her out. Ina nearly stumbles over her feet into the hallways, the books bedded against her chest. She turns to face Ieyasu, but he has already closed the doors.

I got kicked out...! Well... I guess I deserve this. At least now Ieyasu has a reason for hating me.

Ina sighs in frustration, glancing down to the books she’s still holding in her arms.

‘Plants and Herbs’, ‘Medical Plants’, ‘Poisons and Antidotes’.

Ina’s nibbling her lip, when she silently reads the headlines of the books Ieyasu has shoved towards her. Well at least he did help her. After she has practically annoyed him into exhaustion, that is.

I’ve never felt so guilty in my life before...

A part of Ina thinks that it was okay, because Ieyasu owes her one for his utterly grumpy attitude towards her. An eye for an eye. But another part of her hopes that she could make it up to him soon. She doesn’t want to be on bad terms with anyone here.

Bedding the books against her chest again, Ina’s walking back the hallways to her room. From the open veranda she’s glancing over the gardens, whereas the sun sinks, immersing the sky brightly in orange and red colors.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #fanfiction #ikesen fanfic #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen fanfiction #ikesen fic #Ieyasu Tokugawa #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen ieyasu fanfic

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aspenflower17 · 4 years ago

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Finding You (Part Two of ??)

Hello again! I'm back with the second installment of my new series, Finding You, which was previously Untitled. If you want to be tagged when I update this series, just comment below :)

Part One Link

In this part, we finally get to Satan and what he's been doing during all this. It's not really a happy chapter. You have been warned.

I think it's important to note that I am American. In this part, there is a funeral. Since I don't know much about other cultures or religions way of holding funerals, I just wrote what I know (and that's very little actually. I've only been to two full funerals. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have). Feel free to change the story up in your head to match your own funerary customs.

As always, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated and help me endure the torture that is typing up this story from my notebook 😒 I also tried to make sure the editing on here was good. Any DM's for typos or things that didn't make sense are appreciated so I can fix them (please be kind though 🙂 ). I did write some of the funeral disjointed on purpose, trying to recreate how I was feeling when I attended the funerals I did.

Tags (for you lovely people <3 ): @obey-me-trashshshshsh, @naimena

F! MC/ Satan

Word count: 3,195

Warnings/triggers: ANGST!, description of funeral, loosing someone dear to you, some violence at the end though nothing too graphic (he is the avatar of wrath after all)

Satan had felt when Mc died. His pact mark had begun to glow and heat up. A terrible rending feeling in his chest, then… Nothing. He couldn’t move, fear completely paralyzing him. No, it couldn’t be…

Then he heard Mammon scream. Then Asmo. Then Levi. Soon, the whole House of Lamentation was filled with wailing. Satan scrambled for his D.D.D, hurriedly dialing Mc. No, no, no, no, no. He had just talked to her. She’d been fine.

“Hi! This is Mc. I can’t get to the phone-”

“No… No, no, no, NO!” Satan screamed, throwing his phone at the wall. Satan sunk to his knees in a sobbing heap.

The brothers never got an answer to what exactly had happened to Mc. Diavolo had confirmed she had passed, but he couldn’t get any details since she hadn’t been sent to the Devildom. He had managed to find out when and where the funeral would be, if they wanted to go. They would only be able to attend the graveside service though, since the viewing was being held in a church.

Each brother attended the graveside service. Satan stood stoically as the casket was brought out of the hearse. He was wondering if he would be able to get Asmo to charm everyone in attendance so he’d be able to see her face one last time, when he felt his brothers all shifting around uncomfortably. He realized the religious figure he’d tuned out was quoting scripture at the congregation, promises that Mc was now in the hands of God. He decided to tune him out again. Then the casket was being lowered. He had to be physically restrained from going out and pulling her out as the first fistfuls of dirt were being thrown on the casket. How could they do that to her? A voice murmured a reminder that she was gone, and they were just saying goodbye. Well, he needed to say goodbye too. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

Next thing Satan knew, he was at the corner of the grave, a flower he’d had a death grip on since they had started out from the Devildom in his hand. Her favorite. A shiny wood box met his eyes from 6 feet below. Was she really there? He couldn’t feel her presence from his pact mark. Where was she? When was he going to wake up?

The other demon lords watched their brother loose the fight with his emotions. He sobbed, falling on his haunches. Six hands found a part of Satan to touch, tears in their eyes as well.

“It’s time ta let ‘er go,” Mammon’s stuffy voice came from next to him. Satan looked over to find Mammon had removed his sunglasses. His eyes and face were wet.

“I… I don’t think I can,” Satan stated, tears falling freely.

“I know. I know,” Mammon said, pulling his brother in for a hug. Each of the rest of the brothers joined in the hug, pulling the fourth and second born up with them. After a bit, they all let go, moving forward to give Mc their own token and say their last words. When Belphie had finished, Lucifer put his hand on Satan’s shoulder.

“Mc’s waiting for her flower,” Lucifer said, gesturing towards the grave. Satan nodded, and walked forward. He fiddled with the stem for a second, trying to find the words to say, “Mc… Huh, I don’t actually know what to say… I guess, I… I thought I’d find some way to be with you forever. I never thought… I’ve never felt anything like you before Mc, and I don’t think I ever will again… Please… Please, if it’s possible, come back to me. Please,” he uttered as he dropped the flower onto the casket, and walked back to his brothers. He knew everyone was looking at him, confused and curious through their sorrow. They all stayed until the end of the funeral, when Satan turned to Lucifer, “I think it might be time to go.”

“If you’re sure, that would probably be the smartest course of action,” Lucifer nodded, the humans looking questioningly at the demons. The religious man from earlier was actually making his way towards them.

“I’ll visit her later when there aren’t so many people around,” Satan stated as he started walking. The brothers exchanged looks before following him.

The next couple months were quiet at the House of Lamentation. The brothers did the bare minimum required to keep the household going. They were all absent from RAD and Lucifer even took some time off from the endless amount of paperwork he usually did, to grieve. Mc may have been dating Satan, but the rest of the brothers loved her too, and missed her greatly. The only time the brother’s saw Satan was when he was raiding the fridge, finally giving into his stomach pleading for food. He still managed to look somewhat put together, though his eyes were dead and haunted. He had retreated so far into his mind if one of them managed to get him to acknowledge their presence they counted it as a win. He was a shell of himself, and everyone was worried.

Time marches on though, and life slowly returned to normal. One day, Lucifer had gone to RAD and come home with some random paperwork that needed to be done. Another, Asmo was going out to update his wardrobe because his was terribly behind the trends. Each brother found their own way of coping. Beel eventually asked if they could all have family dinner again. They all actually made an appearance, though Satan left once he was done eating.

Though he wasn’t doing well, Satan had been visiting Mc’s grave at least once a week if not more. Lucifer had granted him access to the portal indefinitely, a gesture of kindness that did not go unnoticed. At first he just cried quietly at her grave, not able to produce a coherent sentence. It slowly evolved into him reading her her favorite books or some snatch of poetry that reminded him of her. Eventually he was able to talk freely as he once had. Sometimes it was a mixture of the three. His brothers never saw him cry though. Since Mc had been the only one that seemed to truly understand his feelings, she was the only one allowed to see him cry. Through this self therapy, Satan started to heal. He started sitting in the common room with his brothers in the evening, or snorting at some joke that had been thrown around the table at dinner.

As the years passed, Satan would still visit Mc’s grave, though the frequency dropped. He slowly learned to deal with his sorrow, just like he had with love when he’d first fallen for Mc. It was much harder, his wrath often informing his depression. She became his support again, even if she wasn’t able to respond to help him through his feelings. He always visited on her birthday, bringing her a bouquet of flowers and some small piece of literature, art or playing her some music.

One year, while reading her some Shakespeare, someone came up behind him, “She appreciates it. I know she does.”

Satan stopped reading instantly, whipping around to see a woman who looked quite a lot like Mc, “Excuse me?”

“Coming to see her every year. You have great taste in art by the way,” the woman said, sitting down besides Satan, looking fondly but sadly at the headstone.

“Um, thank you. May I ask who you are?”

“Only if I can ask you the same thing,” the woman responded, smiling at him wryly. The look was so similar to one Mc would give him, he found himself instantly trusting this woman, “I’m S… Stan,” he answered, giving the nickname Mc come up with, when he had asked if he’d ever be able to meet her family. She’d laughed when she'd thought of it, saying she could never introduce him as Satan.

“Stan? I was wondering. She met you when she took that trip out of the country right?”

“Yeah… Did she tell you about me?”

“Oh, you want me to remember that far back? Hmm… I seem to remember her talking about how smart you are, “She chuckled, her eyes far away, “I remember one time, I went in to talk to her and she was furiously reading some book. When I asked what she was reading she told me she couldn’t talk to me right then, needing to catch up to where you were in the story. It was a silly little moment, but she looked so determined… I do know she was in love with you. Though she only really told me about you shortly before she died, I remember the look in her eyes when she talked about you. Telling me about how drawn she was the moment she laid eyes on you. You know what a romantic she was. As her Mother, you can guess how excited I was to meet you, especially after watching her get her heart broken before... You’re exactly her type, you know. Tall, blonde, smart. She was even thinking of introducing you to us. Then it happened.”

Satan didn’t realize the tears were flowing until she looked over and wiped a tear away. She continued, “I was disappointed when I didn’t see anyone that matched your description during the viewing. I don't know what kept you, but I am glad you made it for the casket lowering. I was surprised to see your brothers though, if that's who they were. You all look so different… Anyways, I’m sure she would've loved the intrigue you brought to her service. A handsome stranger, distraught at the thought of life without her. She always did love big, dramatic displays of affection.”

“You remember me from the funeral?”

“Who could forget? It became a topic of conversation in our family once we could all talk about her without crying. Who was that blonde guy? Why wasn’t he at the viewing? Who were the other men he was with? Did she secretly get married while she was out of the country? So many theories, each one more ludicrous then the last. It seems her best friend and I were the only ones to connect the dots as to your identity.”

“Ah. I’m a little embarrassed now,” Satan admitted sheepishly.

“Don’t be. I was extremely bitter after the funeral for a long time. How could my beautiful daughter be taken away from me? Parents were never meant to outlive their kids. I’ve never understood the reason people take photographs at funerals. Most of the time, there’s so much makeup caked onto the body they’re almost unrecognizable. There’s a photo of you from the funeral I actually saved though. You’re looking at the casket with such a look of longing and loss, just waiting for her to come back to you. That photo actually brought me a lot of peace after she was gone. Your look perfectly encapsulated how I felt at the time. It also helped me to know she was able to know that much love before she left. I never want you to feel embarrassed for showing that kind of love to my daughter.”

" She is and always will be the only one for me.”

Mc’s mother laughed, “Oh, you’re still young and quite handsome. You’ll find someone else. In fact, you don’t look like you’ve aged a day from the first time I saw you. You must’ve made some kind of deal with the devil,” she joked.

“Ah. Very funny. Yes. A deal with the devil. Haha.”

Mc's mother looked at him, slightly concerned, "Well, it seems I've made things awkward. I’ll leave you two alone now.”

“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to leave on my behalf,” Satan protested.

“It’s alright. I live close by, and I come and visit fairly often. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Good night, Stan”

“Good night, and… thank you.”

Mc’s mother smiled at him and walked away.

“Well, Mc, I guess I have your mother’s approval now,” Satan joked, turning back to his Shakespeare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Remind me why we’re here again,” Satan said, only slightly interested in the antics Mammon was trying to drag him into.

“Tryin’ to get some sucker… er, customer ta part with their Grimm, obviously,” Mammon explained, leaning back in his chair and turning to face Satan and Belphie.

“What does that have to do with us?” Belphie mumbled, eyes more closed than open.

“Well, everythin’! You two are super smart, so I need ya ta…” As Mammon continued talking, Satan wondered, not for the first time, if Mammon actually ever intended to make money with his schemes, or if he had simply found a way to work through his sin without causing too many problems. He had to understand how likely his plans were to fail… Right?

A bump on his shoulder announced Belphie had fallen asleep. Since Mc had helped him work through some of the trauma he had held onto since Lilith’s death, Belphie had gotten comfortable with his brothers again, growing especially close with Satan, their mutual dislike of Lucifer giving them something to bond over. When Mc had died, Satan had found Belphie to be the most supportive of his brothers. Though they'll lost had lost Lilith, Satan had found Belphie the most sympathetic to what he was going through.

“Oi! Listen when I’m talkin’ ta ya! Ya both younger than me, so you shouldn't really show me more respect.”

Belphie lifted his head, and rolled his eyes, “Mammon, do you really want me to do you a favor? How about this? Maybe, don’t explain how you’re going to con people in front of those you want to con.”

Mammon looked around worriedly, finally noticing the glares he was getting, before rounding on Belphie, “I was just explainin’ the plan ta ya and Satan cuz ya both asked again! If ya didn’ wan’ an explanation, ya shouldn’ have asked!”

Belphie was about to retort, when he got a self satisfying smirk, “Oh, dearest big brother, looks like you’ve got your first customer.”

Mammon went pale, turning around slowly to find a demon about as tall as Lucifer staring Mammon down, obviously angry.

Very interested in how Mammon was going to worm his way out of this one, Satan turned to say something to Belphie when he caught sight of a familiar hat.

“Belphie, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn’t that Luke?”

“Hmm? You mean the chihuahua?... Oh, I think it is. Why do you suppose he’s here? I never heard we were getting any visitor."

"It's a little terrifying just how much you know. You're like Asmo that way."

"It's not my fault everyone just assumes I'm sleeping while they're talking."

"Belphie, you know enough, I think you store information while you're asleep."

"Huh… I'd never thought of that before… Who’s that other angel with him?”

“I don’t know… She kinda looks familiar though, don’t you think?”

Belphie looked over at him, arching an eyebrow, “Do you know any angels younger than Luke?”

“Well, no, but… She just looks so familiar.”

“I guess… Hey, you’re missing Mammon squirm.”

“You watch and enjoy. I’m going to go talk to them,” Satan said, clearly distracted, as he got up out of his seat.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a large body planted itself in front of Satan. The demon was tall, but so was Satan. He was able to look him right in the eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“You’re with the guy that was going to scam us right?”

“You were actually going to fall for his scheme? Really? Well, the first step to getting the help you need is admitting you have a problem. Now, move. I’ve got places to be.”

“Not so fast Princess. You’re not getting away that easy,” the demon put out his hand and grabbed Satan’s shirt.

Satan looked down at the offending hand, and then at the demon, his horns already starting to sprout, “I’d suggest you unhand me if you want to keep your kneecaps.”

The demon laughed, a cocky smile on his face, “Ya think just cuz you’re an elite ya can take me? What makes you so special huh? Ya just think ya so great, just because ya pretty. Am I right?”

The rest of Satan’s demon form appeared, his eyes glowing, a menacing aura surrounding him, “No. I know I can take you because I’m the Avatar of Wrath. Maybe, if you weren’t such a dunce you’d have noticed that,” and with that Satan grabbed his hand in a bone crushing grip. The demon started yowling, trying to twist out of his grasp. It only made Satan increase the pressure. He leaned in right next to the demon’s ear, “Next time you pick a fight, understand who you’re dealing with first.”

He swept the demon’s legs out from under him, and put him in a wrist lock submission hold. The demon was now yelling for mercy, desperately trying to break Satan’s hold. Satan looked around to see if he could still see Luke, but realized quickly that wasn’t going to be possible. Both of his brother’s were currently dismantling whatever demon had decided to pick a fight with them. The rest of the area had erupted into chaos, most demon’s running away. No one wanted to be around when one of the Avatar’s were fighting, much less three! A couple idiots were trying to get in on their fight though.

Sighing, Satan leaned down again, “Well, well, well. Looks like you’re losing your kneecaps today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan muttered to himself, picking up bits of trash that had been left by the fleeing demons. Because of his involvement in the fight, he had to clean up the entire park. Trying to explain to Lucifer he'd been trying to walk away apparently didn't help when you'd put five demons in the hospital before he'd shown up to stop you.

“Well, Lucifer, if you could’ve just kept your cool, you’d still be prancing around with Simeon and Michael up in the Celestial Realm, making friendship bracelets, painting each other little rocks and braiding each other’s hair as you giggle about how… Huh?” Satan crouched down, noticing a small foot peeking out from a pile of leaves. Moving around to the other side of the pile, he saw it was the small angel that had been with Luke.

Up close, the feeling he'd met her before was even stronger. She looked so familiar, but he knew he’d never seen her before. The youngest angel he’d ever met was Luke. Maybe she was from the foggy memories of Lucifer’s he still had? That was forever ago though. She should've grown up quite a bit by now...

His musings were interrupted as the small angel moving. She winced as she sat up, holding her head, “Wha… What happened? Luke? Where are you?, then noticing Satan, “Oh, hello there. I’m sorry, but could you help me find my big brother?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part Three Link

38 notes · View notes

shijiujun · 5 years ago

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tell me baby

A gratuitous sick fic for Inspector Qiao, and he finally eats from the spoon Lu Yao offers him because third time’s the charm - Inspired by this gifset

===

It’s a slow day at the station today with all their leads dried up, but Youning and Lu Yao are investigating outside right now and Chusheng doesn’t doubt that the both of them will turn up with new evidence soon enough, if not have the whole case solved when they return at the end of the day.

There isn’t much to do but to sign some papers and ensure everything is properly documented. When Boss Bai first asked him to be Inspector, Chusheng hadn’t quite thought about the ridiculous amount of paperwork that passes through his hands every single day.

Still, his tasks for the day don’t take much physical activity, but seated in his chair at his table, it takes everything Chusheng has to concentrate.

His limbs are numb for some reason, and every single movement makes some part of his body ache. It’s not like they’re in the deep of winter or even anywhere near autumn, so there’s no reason for him to be feeling this cold.

Exhaling shakily, he wonders just what the hell is wrong with him today.

Chusheng swallows with difficulty, his throat bobbing with the action. Glancing at the empty mug at the corner of his table, Chusheng is certain he just took a large gulp of water, so why is his throat this parched?

“… Inspector? Inspector Qiao?” asks Ah Dou, who’s standing in front of him with a confused look on his face, “Are you… okay?”

He doesn’t feel okay, but Chusheng doesn’t know why he would feel anything but.

“Hnn,” he makes a noise of assent, clearing his throat with a frown. “Just leave it there, I’ll look at it later.”

He’s finding it a little hard to breathe and with frustration, Chusheng tugs at his tie, loosening it. Ah Dou still hasn’t left, staring at him with his brows furrowed.

“What’re you still doing here?” asks Chusheng, leaning into his chair. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Yeah but… Inspector, you really don’t look so good,” Ah Dou persists, which is very unlike him. “I think you should go to the hospital if you’re feeling unwell-“

“You’re not usually this nosy,” sighs Chusheng, sounding more tired than reproachful. “I just have a headache. Don’t worry.”

“I’ll get you a cup of warm water then,” Ah Dou says, oddly considerate today, but Chusheng isn’t lying about the headache, and all he wants is to be left alone.

Standing as Ah Dou picks up his mug and starts to walk in the direction of the coffee table where the water flask is, Chusheng begins, “Ah Dou, I don’t need-“

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence because he’s keeling over in the next moment, nearly braining himself on the surface of the table if his hip didn’t strike against its edge first, and he lands in a messy pile on the floor instead. The ceiling slants above him, and gosh, he’s so fucking thirsty-

Someone is calling for him, but he can barely hear anything outside of the ringing in his ears. As dark spots fill his vision, Chusheng thinks maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to skip a trip to the hospital yesterday night after that ambush at the docks.

Right before he slips under, all he remembers is promising Lu Yao that he would pay for five baguettes today.

===

“Are you an idiot? Did you not bring your brains out to work today?” is the first thing he hears when he wakes up.

Disoriented, Chusheng blearily surveys his surroundings, dazed. He’s floating a little and everything seems overly yellow and green, and it feels like he’s been asleep for a little too long. He doesn’t usually sleep in, always up at the crack of dawn to train and keep in shape.

Turning to the side slowly, that’s when Chusheng sees San Tu seated in a chair next… next to his bed.

The man looks displeased, his arms crossed over his chest and looking more petulant than angry, and Chusheng knows he’s in trouble.

If he tells anyone that he, Qiao Chusheng, one of the Eight Martial Arts Masters of Shanghai, is a little cowed by Lu Yao’s frown, they would surely laugh at him.

Memories of how he landed in the hospital resurface in his head. Chusheng looks towards the glass pitcher at the bedside table, and luckily Lu Yao isn’t too angry to ignore him. The man pours him a glass of water, before helping him to sit up a little, fluffing the pillows behind his back as Chusheng drinks slowly but liberally, because he’s really, really thirsty.

“How long have you been doing this?” Lu Yao asks then.

Confused, Chusheng blinks, “Doing what?”

“This is just like that time, when Zhi Qing-ge kidnapped me and you rescued me but refused to tell me!” Lu Yao snaps, and Chusheng winces. “At least you went to the hospital then with Youning. Guess what the doctor said to me earlier? That the wound on your right side was infected because you didn’t treat it properly and it was continuously bleeding when it needed stitches!”

“You said you didn’t get hurt in last night’s raid,” Lu Yao says, glaring at him.

“I-“ Chusheng begins, but Lu Yao cuts him off, “And then the doctor says you’ve got other scars on your body that look rather recent, ones that even Youning didn’t know you had. How long has this been going on?”

“San Tu,” Chusheng sighs, “It’s okay. This is nothing-“

“Nothing? Ah Dou freaked out when you fainted on him earlier! What were you thinking? He said you looked unwell all morning and refused to listen to him when he asked you to rest. Qiao Chusheng, do you think this is a joke?”

It’s not the time or place for this, but hearing Lu Yao utter his full name for the first time, Chusheng feels a chill run down his spine. No one has ever dared to call him out like this.

He likes the way his name sounds on Lu Yao’s lips and how angry his San Tu looks right now.

Clearing his throat, Chusheng musters a smile instead, “San Tu… I’m used to this. I just miscalculated and I’ll be more careful next time. Don’t be angry. I’m the patient here, you know.”

“Next time?” Lu Yao asks, incredulous. “You’re thinking of a next time?”

Knowing that Lu Yao will probably go on if he doesn’t do something, Chusheng reaches out and tugs at Lu Yao’s arm until the man sits down quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Chusheng repeats, and frankly, part of him is a little touched that Lu Yao is so angry at him. He’s never had anyone angry at him for something like this.

“San Tu, if you don’t stop yelling, the nurses are going to come in and-“

“Chusheng-ge!” a yell comes, and both men flinch.

Lu Yao sits back and relaxes as Youning storms in. Chusheng pales, and his hand raises as if to facepalm, but Youning is quicker. She looks ready to give Chusheng hell on Lu Yao’s behalf too, and that she does.

===

Lu Yao, when he’s not distracted by antique wares or expensive restaurants or his English books, is a pretty self-sufficient person who can take care of himself. He’s a little vain, timid and dumb on some counts, but the man can cook very well, knows how to clean up after himself in a way that Youning still forgets to sometimes.

Chusheng himself can cook, but he eats takeout or heads back to Boss Bai’s house for the occasional meal more often than not, so when he wakes up next to the aroma of pork ribs and old cucumber soup, he has to pause for a moment.

“You’re awake,” Lu Yao says, glancing at him with narrowed eyes, probably still pissed off that Chusheng tried to hide his injuries from him. “Eat up. The doctor said you should have some soup.”

“Where’s Youning?” he mumbles, still groggy from the drugs and this is exactly why he hates hospitals.

“She went back home first, she’s got a draft to rush out tonight. This soup was on the stove for more than four hours. Man-jie told me that I should cook it under a smaller fire for more than three hours, so you should try it.”

Lu Yao scoops out a spoonful and blows gently at it, before bringing it to Chusheng’s lips.

When the man simple stares at him, Lu Yao glares, “Why would you- you don’t want to eat again? I cooked this myself when I could have been sleeping and even Youning helped to stare at the fire for an hour, and you still don’t want it-“

Chusheng cuts him off mid-rant, leaning forward and eating from the proffered spoon obediently.

“… how is it?”

“Hnn,” Chusheng hums, looking at anything but Lu Yao, “It’s passable.”

Suddenly, Chusheng realizes how close Lu Yao is next to him seated on the bed. He’s not used to being in Lu Yao’s care- or anyone’s care for that matter, and this whole thing is jarring, to say in the least.

“Passable?” Lu Yao scoffs, but scoops up another spoonful for Chusheng anyway.

Chusheng bends his head to reach the spoon again, and at the last moment, it dawns on him again how strange this whole thing is. He moves back, saying, “I can eat on my own-“

His eyes go wide as Lu Yao ducks in and kisses him, cutting him off. Chusheng can swear his mind goes blank.

When Lu Yao finally pulls away, there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, and he’s not looking at Chusheng either. Clearing his throat, he puts the bowl into Chusheng’s hands.

“You should finish the soup,” Lu Yao says, picking up his jacket from where it is lying over the chair, “I’ll settle your discharge with the doctors.”

Chusheng looks up, blinking, “San Tu-“

“And you better not do this again,” Lu Yao finally meets his eyes again, though the blush doesn’t go away, “Youning and I are going to check you over after every fight. You better not hide another injury from us again, and I’m dragging you over to the hospital if you so much as have a cut!”

That seems a little of an overkill, but Chusheng can’t help but smile.

“And if I don’t listen to you?”

Lu Yao blinks. “Then- Then I’m never-“

“Never going to kiss me again?”

“Never going to make soup for you again,” Lu Yao enunciates firmly, but his ears are now red too as he turns on his heels quickly to escape the room.

Chusheng laughs to himself, shaking his head. Licking at his lips, he wonders if Lu Yao would give him a repeat performance later, but he supposes they have all the time in the world for that now.

===

The next time they get caught in a shootout, as promised, Lu Yao and Youning (and even Ah Dou, hovering a few feet away and trying not to get caught looking at him) make him take off his jacket, roll up his sleeves and lift his shirt a bit to show that he’s fine.

The rest of the officers pretend they’re not looking, even though a shirtless Chusheng at the station is nothing new.

Of course, when they get home, Chusheng lets Lu Yao do a close-up inspection.

In the privacy of their room of course, so that Lu Yao can inspect every inch of his body thoroughly.

#my roommate is a detective #民国奇探 #qiao chusheng #lu yao #chuyao #fic #mriad #ignores canon #set sometime after all the drama and politics go down #and lu yao's fam is begrudgingly ok with lu yao in shanghai #solving crimes

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jcmorrigan · 4 years ago

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Hey, wanna watch me cry? I found my old “KHIII wishlist” and let’s tick off how many things I got and how many things make me cry

· Mozenrath as the secret boss - Yeah, I always knew this one was a long shot, but a girl’s gotta have a dream, you know?

· Kairi being a complete and total badass - *LOUD SOBBING*

· Guest stars from Square Enix properties besides FF and TWEWY (Ringabel would be really cool in the Restoration Committee) - I mean I guess there was a Gummi boss from another older game? Truth be told I think I just wanted Ringabel. I haven’t even played BD. I just like him because a friend likes him. Anyway, Squenix might be able to win back my heart again if Orpheus from BD2 ends up a boss but I don’t see that happening

· Bring back Strike Raid and give it the EXACT same mechanic as KH1 - YOU HAD ONE JOB but I can’t be too mad because Attraction Flows are pretty

· Terra gets his confidence restored - Hey, this one happened!

· Eraqus gets called out on his bullshit - *SOBBING INCREASES IN VOLUME*

· Ventus is just awesome - This one made it!

· The return of Xion - YEAH BOIIIIII

· And Roxas and Naminé but Xion takes priority - Hmmmmm. Okay, so we did get this, but Naminé was such an afterthought and didn’t get to play a plot role. Does it really count?

· The ability to make a Gummi ship that looks like the Condor from Storm Hawks - Given the blueprints that exist, I’m SURE this is possible. I’m just never actually patient enough with the Gummi system to play around with it. But maybe one day I will, for shits and giggles, try to RECREATE CONDOR

· Even actually being evil and continuing to be a snarky little shit - HE HAD US IN THE FIRST HALF. THEN *BREAKS DOWN CRYING*

· Ienzo reforming and having an awkward friend dynamic with Kairi as he goes through his redemption arc - I mean, we were missing the Kairi dynamic, but I got this much!

· Baymax as a Summon - Party member, not Summon, but we did get to team up with Baymax and I’m cool with that.

· Actual brunette Rapunzel post-haircut at some point - Got her!

· Hans and Demyx appearing in the same game - I CANNOT BELIEVE OF ALL THE THINGS ON THIS WISHLIST, THIS IS ONE OF THE ONES THAT CAME TRUE. I CAN’T BE TOO MAD

· Return trips to Agrabah and Halloween Town (I don’t care that we’ve already been there 500 times; I never get tired of Al and Jack) - CRUSH MY DREAMS WHY DON’T’CHA

· MORE DISNEY VILLAIN BOSS FIGHTS! - There were. Decidedly fewer Disney villain boss fights. But they did finally let me beat up the goddamn Kraken so I’ll take it

· I know this one’s a long shot but a Monsters Inc. world SOLELY for the purpose of a Randall Boggs boss fight where he can turn invisible and shake your lock-on ability and you just have to guess where he is before he punches out half your HP - WHAT DO YOU KNOW. WE GOT THIS WORLD BUT NOT THE FIGHT. BUT RANDALL WAS STILL GREAT AND GOT TO DO THE DEATH TRAP GAUNTLET AND IT WAS LEGITIMATELY THE BEST PART OF THE ENTIRE GAME (well, okay, maybe not BEST, just...my favorite)

· Also a Dr. Facilier boss fight needs to be singled out - Oh Facilier where art thou

· Make the adorable Dream Eaters relevant somewhere - This was on me; all I said was “somewhere.” They put in the minimal effort to check this box and I should’ve specified I wanted them to be MORE THAN AN OPTIONAL SUMMON

· Yen Sid with an actual Keyblade - I retract this because the Yen Sid moment we got instead was SO MUCH COOLER

· Actually being able to travel to the Destiny Islands to do stuff instead of it being an intro or cutscene-only world - Let us access the forbidden islands Squenix

· Expanded Twilight Town map (the spinoffs gave us expanded maps for Radiant Garden and Traverse Town) - HAHAHAHAHA. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHA

· If Arendelle is a world and Elsa isn’t your party member, I want Anna to be hitting things with Kristoff’s guitar and that to be listed as her default weapon - Well, apparently we got frickin Marshmallow instead

· Callaghan - No, I guess it was more important to fight DARKUBES

· The return of every single leitmotif - BUT THIS ONE, WE GOT! Maybe missing a couple of the lesser ones, but almost EVERY piece Shimomura knocked out of the park came back and got badass new remixes! KHIII is altogether a mixed bag but its soundtrack is just aces.

· Cruella de Vil - Fortunately she would get an antihero!AU origin story movie two years later that would kick all kinds of ass. As for KH, no, she’s still not there

· The Emperor’s New Groove - They legitimately don’t want us to have anything nice

· Mad Madam Mim, preferably to be introduced in Radiant Garden to oppose the Restoration Committee and Merlin just being fed up through the roof with this and Cid accusing Merlin of leading her here because SHE’S YOUR GODDAMN RIVAL - THEY DON’T WANT US TO HAVE. ANYTHING NICE

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vermiculus-incipiens · 4 years ago

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OOC INFORMATION:

What’s your name? Nat

Preferred pronouns: She/her/hers

Timezone: EST

IC INFORMATION:

Character Name: Lucius Malfoy

What’s a hobby or pastime that your character enjoys? Quidditch. Out of practice now but he still has the occasional habit of flying for fun. His second through fifth year of school was spent playing as a chaser. Unfortunately, the hobby was given up the summer after his fifth year. His father took one look at the captain pin he received and told him to send it back, declaring that his son did not have the making of a quidditch player and needed to focus on his academics (the expectation of his heir securing a Ministry position upon graduating) instead of wasting time on something he wasn’t good at.

Do you have any preferred ships or anti-ships? Ships: Lucius/Narcissa Lucius/Severus Lucius/Narcissa/Severus (either a poly sort of deal or a powerful friendship because oh my goodness, do I love how the Malfoys made Severus one of their own) Anti-ships: Anything forced. I headcanon Lucius as demisexual - valuing emotional connections before looks - but he would claim he is straight if asked since that term definitely is not something that exists in the group’s time period.

What do you think your character’s Boggart would be? If their greatest fear isn’t something that could easily take a solid form, what is it? Why? His wife and son are dead. Pre-Draco’s birth had him focused on keeping himself alive long enough to welcome his child. Now the plan is to keep the whole family intact, hoping that they will be given a moment of peace once the dust settles. He has enough faith in Narcissa to know she would be able to manage if anything ever resorted in his death but things seeming to drag out has him certain the war won’t leave his son without one or both of his parents. As for why - Although self-centered, Lucius cares deeply about his loved ones. He is in the habit of referring to Draco as his son, not his heir. The need to produce an heir is a topic his father cares deeply about. Lucius would have been happy with a little girl and trying again or even just having one child, given the amount of struggling it took to bring their first kid into the world.

What’s your character’s biggest pet peeve? People that stand in the middle of the lift when he and they are the only people in the one at the Ministry. Especially if they don’t move to step aside. Arthur Weasley - there’s just something about the man’s very existence that gets on his nerves.

What would you consider to be an eccentricity of your character? His morning routine. Looking good takes a lot of time, money, and effort. The routine involves thoroughly cleaning himself before work, tossing on moisturizer, and making sure his hair is presentable enough to venture into the Ministry. The Malfoy name alone is powerful enough to not need to worry about looks, but Lucius likes accentuating that power with good looks and confidence.

What is/was your character’s favorite subject in school? Why? Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lucius excelled in those classes and took his education very seriously, to a point of earning top marks, a head boy position, and a non-entry level position at the Ministry during his seventh year.

What time of day is your character’s favorite? What time of year? Sunset. There is something blissful about looking over the garden, spotting the silhouette of the peacocks, and watching the sun go down over his property. Summer. Cold weather makes Lucius miserable. He got sent to the hospital wing during a quidditch incident in his fifth year and is still doubting his knee fully recovered from the bludger that hit it — snow and rain bring the aches and pains out.

What’s your character’s Patronus? If they can’t conjure one, what would it be if they could? Why? A peahen. No reason outside of admitting it seems fitting for him.

What is your character’s biggest vice (bad habit or immoral craving)? Cigarettes. They serve as something to keep his hands busy if his anxiety spikes.

Is your character an introvert or extrovert? How well do they handle social situations? Extroverted introvert. Lucius doesn’t mind having eyes on him but would happily pick curling up on a chaise lounge with a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other over having to deal with people. People are exhausting. He’s never particularly liked crowds but can navigate them without issue. His upbringing involved his father forcing him into social situations and sternly making sure his heir knew how to behave when out in public. Protesting about not wanting to be the center of attention was not an option.

What is your character’s diet like? What’s his or her favorite food? Lucius prefers the best food money can buy. Main preference for greens — he takes his salads seriously. Does wine count as food?? No? *sighs* Alright, well I guess that makes four-layer caviar dip his favorite food. Has to be the recipe his mom preferred or he won’t touch it.

How do you think your character’s psychological issues have manifested and changed your character up to this point? Snob - Very aristocratic. Focused on appearances. Does not associate with those he believes are lesser than him. Do not ask him about his son since he will more than likely go off about how thankful he is for his wife for bringing their child into the world and insist on talking about Draco’s coos and smiles being cuter than anyone else’s kid. Draco being brought up is truthfully the easiest way to crack through the confident mask he usually uses — the kid has him wrapped around his fingers and isn’t even a year old yet Confidence - Lucius naturally oozes confidence and seems calm and collected when in public. However, he is using it to mask the feelings of anxiety and paranoia that are beginning to grate his thoughts. The birth of his son made him aware that he intends to stick around and start doting on his family. He has an underlying fear of doing something that further jeopardizes his family’s safety. Love - Obsessed with his reflection, Lucius has been spending a lot of time focusing on himself and his family. Certainly, he loves every perfect aspect about himself and his wife. The addition of their little bundle of joy has left him realizing he has more love to give than anticipated. Most of which is no longer dedicated to himself. Loving himself proved to counteract the feelings of disappointment and loss that accompanied the physical and emotional distance his father used while raising him (and still uses). He has a decent self-care routine down because of this Proper - Everything has its place in the manor. Appearances must be kept up and things must be clean. Anything remotely out of place can cause him to feel anxious. Lucius seldom wears the same outfit more than twice. He keeps up with fashion and is one of the first to obtain new looks from the top lines Head over heels for his perfect life, wife, and son — definition of the proper pureblood family Mock - snobbish tendencies have left him quick to mock others. At this point, he barely needs to think before a rude comment or scoff passes his lips. Devastating - “It is often said of the Malfoy family that you will never find one at the scene of the crime, though their fingerprints might be all over the guilty wand.” Lucius has a vast knowledge of poisons and no shame in paying others to do the dirty work for him. His ranking at the Ministry has him more in the know about what’s going on than others in the cause. Lucius is also fairly experienced in using lies to undermine coworkers, having an eloquent and confident enough way of speaking to get others to believe what he says Power. Influence - The two practically go hand-in-hand for Lucius. He can pull a lot of influence from the confidence and better-than-everyone facade he typically hides behind. The power comes from having a liar’s tongue, the ability to speak confidently even though he may not truly support what he says, and his having more money than he knows what to do with Close Calls - The near misses have left Lucius anxious about permanently losing his wife. The raid on the manor should have been something he was prepared for. Not feeling prepared followed by his wife getting sent away left him truly believing the love of his life would be gone for good Less Important - as a high-ranking Ministry official and liking to think he’s been fairly dedicated to the cause, Lucius is above menial tasks. He’s not liking being sent on mission after mission and is reading too far into it, truthfully wary that he did something that may have caused the Dark Lord’s feelings toward him and his abilities to shift. Tired - a general way of describing Lucius. Things have hit the point of feeling monotonous. He feels as though he’s just going through the motions when it comes to working and the cause, wanting nothing more for things to settle down so he can shift his focus to his wife, son, and nothing else. Loyal - Once earned, Lucius’s loyalty is unwavering. It is beginning to crack a little in regards to the cause but he is doing his best to keep that to just himself, knowing things will go poorly if he does anything to hint at his being discontent about not being able to focus on family Fear - With the family line secured by having produced an heir, Lucius’s fear of losing his wife all together has slowly begun to dissipate. He is incredibly fearful of doing something to jeopardize the little family they have started and will do whatever it takes to ensure his wife and son are kept safe. This has left him shifting his focus on the cause to ensure he doesn’t do something to fall from where he is currently ranked with the death eaters. One wrong move could prove disastrous.

Give us a headcanon for your character. Anything is acceptable. Lucius’s father is incredibly controlling. The first decade of his son’s life involved strict instruction and proving he was worthy of being the Malfoy heir. Likely took things as far as claiming he could replace Lucius with a better son as a means of controlling his behavior. Abraxas was not opposed to laying a hand (wand in extreme cases) on his son if the situation called for it. He micromanaged Lucius’s life while he was at school, often requiring the head of house to serve as his eyes and ears. Lucius does not like using contractions when he speaks. He tries to avoid words like “can’t,” “don’t,” and “won’t” and prefers sticking to using the full word(s) instead. The only agreement he and his father shared when he was little goes out to him thinking contractions are a lazy way of speaking Lucius is fluent in English, French, Latin, and Italian. Lucius does not like getting his hands dirty. The thought of another’s blood getting on him makes him feel sick to his stomach. He prefers a more behind the scenes approach when it comes to the cause: researching poisons, flowers, etc. and ways of doing damage that doesn’t involve the more sadistic ways of the other death eaters; paying outside sources to go in for the kill; spreading rumors at work to bring down other ministry employees; planning large scale attacks but not usually placing himself in as a main part of the plan; Let the new recruits tackle that and give him something interesting to do He’s hit the point of getting tired of menial tasks and wanting to retire at home with his wife and son

#lucius malfoy #Accepted #VIAccepted #Closed Character

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jesatria · 4 years ago

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Fic: Simple Pleasures, Chap 9

Title: Simple Pleasures Fandom: Kushiel’s Legacy Characters: Isidore d’Aiglemort, Anne Livet Pairings: Isidore/Anne Word Count: 5,130 Rating: NC-17 Summary: The story of Isidore d’Aiglemort & the gardener’s daughter of Lombelon. WIP. Disclaimer: I do not own Kushiel’s Legacy. This is only for fun & no profit is being made from it.

Previous Chapters:

1. The Visit

2. Desire

3. The Harvest Festival

4. Triumph

5. Gifts

6. The Eagle Unbound

7. Lighting the Candle

8. The Longest Night

Chapter 9: The Final Parting

I didn’t mind being with child.

Other women hated it, I came to understand. Between the monthly courses brought on by lighting the candle and the many pains and discomforts childbearing women were forced to endure, I understood why some wished Eisheth would close their wombs. Mayhap I would feel that way in time, after I’d borne more than one child, but not now. That isn’t to say I enjoyed the vomiting or back pain, but those things were not enough to detract from my happiness. I had chosen this. I wanted this child, our child. Early summer couldn’t come soon enough.

It was extremely difficult to bid Isidore farewell when he left. Spring was in the air, a time when I’d normally rejoice at the first green shoots to poke through the thawing ground. This time I’d spent the better part of the winter with him and thus it was much harder to see him go. War was coming. We did not speak of it; I sensed he was reluctant to do so. At first I thought he didn’t want to spoil the occasion of our first Longest Night together, but it continued for the duration of his visit. I came to suspect his reluctance was due to my condition, never mind that I was hardly some delicate flower to faint at the mention of war. I suppose he meant to spare me the stress that was sure to follow if I knew the details. Regardless, he told me enough that I understood this was far more serious than the usual border raids. The Skaldi found a leader to unite them and they meant to invade. I’d learned enough from Isidore over the years to know he kept the border forts well-garrisoned and watched the passes closely. Surely that would be enough to hold off an invasion along with the Royal Army. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of apprehension that rose in me whenever I thought of Isidore on the border. It was the only thing that spoiled my happiness.

Bit by bit I grew used to my new status. I didn’t miss the more tedious of my chores, such as cleaning the manor. No longer being responsible for my share of that meant I could pursue other things. The quilt was one of them. It was my first time making one entirely on my own—my previous experience had been working alongside the other women making quilts for the household. It was true that I hardly needed to make one myself for our child, who wouldn’t lack for blankets, but I wanted a child of my body to have somewhat made with care by me. I’d made shirts for Isidore for the same reason. In time I would make clothing for our child too.

With the arrival of spring, I returned to the gardens. It was the first time I’d done so since becoming lady of the manor. I could’ve hired a gardener to tend to the gardens according to my specifications, but I chose not to. The gardens had been my father’s charge for as long as I could remember and I was not about to give them over to another.

“Are you certain you ought to be doing that in your condition?” a familiar voice asked. I looked up from the lavender bed to see Marcel, evidently deciding to stop for a chat on his way to the orchard.

“Thank you for your concern, but this is hardly taxing.” I was far enough along now that my condition was quite apparent. I’d even had to make myself some new dresses and alter others to accommodate it.

“You’re sure? Because I doubt d’Aiglemort would want you overexerting yourself.”

“I’m quite sure, Marcel. I’ll stop if I feel tired or ill.”

He knelt down until he was level with me. “Do you think you’ll have much time for gardening once he makes you his consort and you’re a mother?”

“I certainly intend to make time, whatever happens,” I replied. Mayhap I could tend to the gardens at the townhouse Isidore offered to buy me. That would be my one requirement—I certainly didn’t need anything fancy. The prospect of being able to design and plan my gardens, not merely choose what I planted in plots laid out by someone else, was an exciting one.

Somewhat softened in Marcel’s face. “I’ll miss you once you’re gone, you know.”

I smiled. “I know, and I’ll miss you too. But you know I won’t be gone all the time. I love this place too much not to spend a portion of my time here.”

“That’s good to know. Still, I’ll miss you.”

After Marcel left, I let my thoughts wander. They were wont to take familiar paths these days. I couldn’t help wondering what our child will be like. Isidore wanted a son he could teach Camael’s Arts, but I had no preference. Boy or girl, I meant to teach our child to appreciate growing things as I did. Mayhap our child might even join me when I worked in the gardens. I would make sure the L’Agnacite heritage wasn’t lost beneath the Camaeline. I hoped the child would have Isidore’s beautiful hair. In my mind’s eye, I could see a girl who looked like me but for the silver hair or a boy who was the spitting image of his father.

The first buds were just opening on the trees when Isidore returned to Lombelon. I could tell right away that he was not himself. He was tense, though his face brightened at the sight of me. “Somewhat’s bothering you, I can tell,” I said once we’d settled into the privacy of the master suite. “Care to tell me?”

He looked away. “It’s nothing, Anne, just the impending invasion. Soon enough the passes will be free of snow and the Skaldi will be upon us. I cannot stay here long, but I had to see you again. You are well, I hope?”

“Yes, aside from the common complaints of a woman with child.” I laid a hand on my stomach. “I’m managing just fine, though I have to admit I’m quite ready for the birth.”

“We are into spring now. The start of summer is not so very far away.”

“No, and yet time moves so slowly. Have you thought much about our child, what it might be like?”

He pursed his lips, considering the question. “I have, yes.”

“Personally I’m hoping it has your hair.”

An amused expression came over his face. “Have you now?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful.”

“I’ll freely admit it’s my only vanity. So yes, I’ve also imagined our child inheriting my hair,” he answered, grinning.

“Blessed Elua let it be so,” I said with a smile. “You are still hoping for a son?”

“Yes, though I’d be willing to teach our daughter Camael’s Arts if she’d a mind to learn. Truth be told, I can’t see any child of mine not being drawn to the sword.”

“Is that how it was for you?”

He nodded. “I started learning around the time I was learning to read. I can still remember how it felt, the first time I picked up a practice sword. Somewhat inside of me cried out in happiness at how right it felt.”

“That’s quite young to begin, is it not? I imagined you started at age ten, as the Cassiline Brothers do.”

“Not in Camlach. I don’t know how it is in the other provinces, but it is common for Camaeline peers to begin training at such a young age,” he replied. I suppose that made sense if you were born to wield a sword.

“Is it the same for the girls?”

“I cannot say. I never had a sister, or indeed any close female friends until I went to the Shahrizai. If I had to guess, I’d say they begin later. Camaeline women don’t take to the battlefield, but they are expected to defend themselves.”

Try as I might, I had a hard time picturing a noblewoman, even a Camaeline one, wielding a sword. “Do they carry swords as men do?”

Isidore chuckled. “Some of them might. They certainly own them and bear them as needed. Camaeline noblewomen will defend themselves and their castles at need.”

I’d never heard of any D’Angeline woman doing such a thing. It certainly wasn’t done in L’Agnace. “Would I be expected to do that?”

He was quiet for a moment before answering. “Camael willing, there will be no more Skaldi attacks for some time after I deal with them and you’ll not need to concern yourself with such matters. The Camaelines won’t expect a gardener from L’Agnace to know how to defend a castle.”

I let out a big sigh “Well that’s a relief!”

“You are no Camaeline. They’ll notice that, as surely as everyone here can see I’m no L’Agnacite.”

“I could tell the moment I set eyes on you, though I was quite preoccupied with how beautiful you are.”

“Were you indeed?”

“I was.”

“Well, I wish I could say I noticed you when I first arrived, but I didn’t. There was much to take in. You only caught my attention when you brought me that first bottle of pear brandy.”

“We owe a debt of gratitude to Thèrese, for choosing to send me up with that brandy,” I replied, leaning my head against his shoulder.

We spoke of names for the first time that night. I lay propped up in bed, a stack of pillows behind my back, while Isidore rubbed oil onto my belly. The motion of his hands soon soothed me so much that I began to doze.

“I had a thought about names.” His voice startled me into alertness.

“Oh?” I hadn’t given the topic much thought, for all the time I’d spent imagining what our child would be like.

“If we should have a son, I’d like to name him Maslin.”

“A pretty name. I like it.” He gave me a small smile in response. “Maslin was your father’s name, was it not?”

“Yes. I thought we might follow tradition.”

The babe moved at his words as if in agreement. “That would be good. If we have a daughter, we could name her Louise after my mother.”

For a moment I thought he might insist a daughter be named after his mother, but he didn’t. Instead all he said was, “Louise d’Aiglemort? That does have a certain flow to it.”

“Well, there’s that decided. Maslin for a boy; Louise for a girl,” I remarked. He continued to massage me and I closed my eyes in contentment. He’d rubbed my feet earlier in the evening, which I greatly appreciated. Any relief from the aches and pains that came with my condition were quite welcome.

“You look as content as can be,” Isidore observed.

“I am. The only thing that could make me happier would be you staying here until the birth.”

“You know I cannot do that, much as I wish I could.”

“Yes, but I can’t help wishing it was so,” I replied.

He ceased his rubbing and moved to lie beside me. “I will do whatever I can to be here for the birth,” he said gently, black eyes softening as he met my gaze. “I cannot promise more than that, and there is a real possibility that I will fail.”

My hopes deflated at his words. Every time I’d imagined giving birth he was beside me, despite knowing he was needed to deal with the Skaldi. I’d held that hope since I discovered I was with child and it died hard. Isidore saw the disappointment in my face and laid a hand on my belly. “I will not make false promises to you, Anne. All I can promise is that I will try. The Skaldi will be defeated by then, Camael willing.”

“Camael willing.”

We spoke more about the future the next day. Isidore was due to leave the day after that and we were determined to spend as much time together as we could. Despite his assurances, the impending Skaldi invasion lingered in my mind. This was rather more serious than the border raids he’d spoken of previously. What would happen if the Skaldi were able to breach the border defenses? I shuddered at the thought of a horde of barbarians raping, pillaging, and plundering their way across Terre d’Ange. These fears I mostly kept to myself, not wanting to mar our time together. It was the last time I would see him before the invasion, and I did not want it filled with talk of coming war.

It was a chilly spring day, cold enough to warrant wearing a cloak when walking outside. We walked together in the orchard, where the laborers who tended the trees could be seen here and there going about their work. It was chilly enough that the sun peeking through the clouds gave little warmth. Beside the buds on the trees, here and there green shoots poked their way through the earth. I’d always loved spring. It was heartening to see the first bits of green coming up after months of winter. Yet I did not feel that way this spring, rare for a L’Agnacite and unheard of for a gardener.

“I’ve been giving some thought to matters of inheritance,” Isidore began, “I know very well how deeply you love Lombelon and it seems fitting that our child should inherit it.”

“Elua willing, our child will love Lombelon as much as I do.” The babe was half-L’Agnacite, after all, and surely that wouldn’t all vanish beneath the Camaeline heritage.

“Indeed, I cannot imagine any child of ours not inheriting your L’Agnacite love of the land,” he replied, amused.

“Neither can I,” I said with a grin, “for I do not mean to let our child be ignorant of that part of its heritage. What of your other estates? Would our child inherit them as well?”

He took a moment to consider the question. “Mayhap. We shall see.”

“Because politics may demand you marry some noblewoman?”

“Yes. You do understand that such a marriage would not mean me casting you aside?”

I nodded. “I know well enough how you feel about me to be certain that wouldn’t be the case.”

He took my hand in his and ran a calloused thumb over it. “You are first in my heart, now and always. No future wife of mine will ever come between us. And if it transpires that I need not marry for politics, I would be pleased to have our child succeed me as Duc or Duchese d’Aiglemort.”

My child, ruling a province. “That would be… a great honor.” In truth I cared very little about such things. Our child inheriting Lombelon meant more to me than becoming a Duc or Duchese. That a child of my blood would inherit the home I loved was so much more than I’d ever dreamed. With that inheritance, my child would be a peer of the Realm. I smiled a little at the thought—not bad for the grandchild of a gardener.

“We shall see but Lombelon, that is certain. I’ll see it done once the babe is born and officially acknowledged by me,” he said. “It is easy enough to change my will and dispose of my estates as I see fit.”

“Do you think you’ll still want to come here often once I am living with you as your consort?” I asked. All this talk of estates had me wondering how much time I’d be spending at Lombelon in the future.

“We can come here as often as you like,” Isidore replied, “and you would be welcome to come here without me if you so desired. I’ll not expect you to remain at my side wherever I go. I doubt you’d enjoy the border fortifications.”

“No, I daresay I would not. I recall you once telling me there were almost no women to be found there, not even Servants of Naamah.”

“There’s little in the way of comfort to be found. Hardly a place I’d take my consort, even with the border perfectly quiet and peaceful.”

This talk of the border brought the fears I’d tried to bury back to the surface. “Will it be a long campaign, do you think?”

He looked away, taking time to consider his answer. “I am hopeful that it will be. The combined might of the Allies of Camlach and the Royal Army should suffice to drive back the Skaldi.” There was a note of tension in his voice that hadn’t been there before; I suspected he was more worried about the battle to come than he was letting on, not wanting me to worry overmuch. Well, it was too late for that now. My worry must’ve shown on my face, for he gave my hand a squeeze of reassurance and stroked my cheek gently. He said nothing; there was nothing to say on this matter that hadn’t been said already.

Did I know, then, what was to come? I did not. All I had was a nagging worry, born of what he’d told me of the Skaldi. I suppose many women have felt the same when their lovers have gone off to war. It is my own misfortune that those worries would prove to be horribly correct, and in ways I couldn’t have begun to imagine. That last day we spent together became all the more precious. I was for enough gone with child by then that long walks tired me, so we returned to the manor after a short walk through the gardens and nearest orchard. Instead we retired to the manor, where we passed the rest of the day in quiet companionship, savoring each other’s presence. Things had progressed to the point where simply being together was enough. That being said, we were certain to make good use of what we both knew would be our last night together for some time. It would indeed prove to be our last together, but for a far longer time than either of us anticipated.

We took our time that night, hands exploring each other’s bodies as if for the first time. The feel of his calloused hands on me never failed to stir my desire, and this was no exception. Isidore took the lead, as he’d done every night of this visit, and I was content to lie on the plush pillows and let him pleasure me. He moved slowly with the languisement, licking and sucking until I thought I might die of pleasure. With me now so far gone with child, he insisted that I relax and let him take over. I was more than happy to do so. That never lost its appeal for me, who’d been a servant for so long, being serviced by another.

The Trois Milles Joies lists positions considered most comfortable for a woman with child. We’d already sampled a few on this visit. After he brought me to the peak of arousal for a second time, I turned on my side and spread my legs. My foot came to rest on Isidore’s shoulder as he situated himself between my legs. He moved as slowly as he had with everything else that night. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of him inside me, of his hand gripping my thigh. I almost didn’t want my climax to come so I might remain in that moment. But come it did, for I could not preserve the night forever. Later we lay closely together, both of us spent and satisfied. I lay on my side, with him pressed up close against my back, one arm thrown protectively over my stomach.

The morning came too soon.

Since being relieved of my servant duties, I’d taken to lingering longer in bed than I would have otherwise, even when Isidore wasn’t there. This morning was no exception. If I remained in bed, perhaps the day wouldn’t begin and Isidore wouldn’t leave me. I wondered if he felt the same, for he did not rise as early as he usually did. After some minutes had passed, I felt him move off the bed. I turned to watch as he dressed, fixing the image of his perfect body in my mind. I never tired of looking at him, especially when he was unclothed. He was well-aware of it too, and I swear he would deliberately take his time dressing for my enjoyment. This was not one of those times, much to my dismay. There was naught for me to do then but rise and don my own clothes.

Isidore handed me a small wooden box once I’d finished dressing. “A gift for you. Since I’ll not be here for your birthday, I thought I might give it to you now.”

I opened it to find a delicate snowdrop pendant on a silver chain. The white flower was inlaid with pearl and the green stem set with emeralds. “Oh!” No one had ever given me such a valuable gift, and I found myself at a loss for words.

“You told me you’d like to see snowdrops.” His voice was soft. “This will have to do until I can take you with me to Camlach.”

I slipped the necklace over my head. The chain was long enough that there was no need to undo the clasp. It came to rest just above my breasts. “It’s beautiful. I will wear it and think of you until we are reunited.”

We left the bedchamber and walked into the sitting room. A meal waited for us on the table. I immediately spread jam on a thick slice of baguette and took a bite. I was well-accustomed by now to the increases in appetite brought on by my condition. Even so, I was a bit surprised to find myself still hungry after finishing my meal. Indeed, the meal passed all too quickly and there was no more delaying the inevitable.

I met Isidore in the courtyard to bid him farewell, as was our custom. A few other members of the household were present, as were his men in their familiar black-and-silver livery, but we might’ve been alone for all the attention I paid them. It was a clear spring day, with a hint of winter’s chill yet in the air. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me softly. “Return to me,” I breathed once we’d separated, resting my head against his chest, “return to me and see our child born.”

“I have every intention of doing so,” he said, stroking my hair with a gloved hand. “If I should not return… I left you enough coin to keep you and the babe for a while. You will name it as we discussed?”

“Yes. Maslin for a boy; Louise for a girl.”

“Very good.” I leaned my cheek against the rich velvet of his doublet; his hand moved to rest on my back. “Anne, I want you to know that though it is unlikely I’ll be able to write much, you will be in my thoughts every day we are parted.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Every soldier knows there’s nothing quite like the promise of returning home to loved ones to keep him going through the hell of war. I want you to know that I’ll carry the memory of you with me along with the promise of our child and hope they will see me through.”

Tears slid down my cheeks, soaking into his doublet. “Anne.” I lifted my head to look up at him. His black eyes were filled with a terrible love. “Anne, love, please don’t cry. I don’t want my last sight of you before I go to war to be with tears running down your face.” He removed one of his gloves and gently brushed the tears away. That he called me “love” was enough to show the depths of his feelings. He rarely did that.

“That would hardly be a memory to sustain you through the hardships of war,” I replied, giving him a small smile.

He brushed the last of my tears away. “Indeed it would not.”

I stroked his beautiful hair and gave him another kiss. “I trust that will be a better memory.”

“Rest assured that it will.”

We kissed and embraced for a little while longer until the parting could be put off no longer. “I love you,” he said as we separated. “Sometimes I think I haven’t said that as often I should have.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve known it in my heart, as you know I love you.”

We parted truly then, and I watched as he mounted his horse, waved to me, and rode down the path to the gate with his men following close behind him. I remained where I was until his distant figure vanished from sight.

I never saw him again.

It is an unfortunate thing that the mind will retain the memories of the worst moments of our lives when we’d much prefer to forget them if we could. I would gladly do without the memory of the day my world came crashing down around me. Spring had come in earnest by then and the pear trees were fully leafed out. Many flowers had already started to bloom. A few weeks had passed since Isidore’s departure and I wondered how he was faring. Surely the mountain passes were open by now and the Skaldi invasion had begun.

I was now in the last weeks of my term. Early summer, the priestess had told me, or mayhap late spring if the babe was minded to come early. With some reluctance I had to cut down on my time in the gardens, as I tried easily. The birth really couldn’t come soon enough. This was my mood, then, when the news arrived.

Lombelon was never starved for news. Close as we were to the City, we heard things. Couriers passed by frequently and would often share news with us. It was one such courier who brought the news that was to devastate me. I was in the upstairs sitting room when he came, working on the quilt. It was very near to completion. The noise downstairs was clearly audible with the door to the room open. I set the quilt aside and rose from my chair, awkward as I now was. I’d made it halfway down the stairs when I heard the news the courier brought.

“The Duc d’Aiglemort has turned traitor to the Crown!”

The words were a dagger to my heart. I gripped the railing tightly as the room seemed almost to spin around me. Isidore, a traitor? Surely not! He always was mindful of his duty to protect the Realm from the Skaldi. I wouldn’t believe it, I couldn’t believe it…

“The Skaldi have invaded through the passes of Camlach, a horde such as has never been seen in recent times!”

He’d been preparing to fend off the invasion by making sure the passes were well-defended. How many times had we spoken of this, and how it was his duty to protect the Realm from the Skaldi. “No,” I heard myself saying, “no. He wouldn’t do that. The Skaldi must’ve broken past the border defenses. They have a strong leader…”

But the courier shook his head. “You are mistaken, Madame. I have just come from the front and heard the news from those who were there.”

“Then they must be mistaken! He’d never let the Skaldi through the passes intentionally!”

“D’Aiglemort left the southern passes lightly defended so the Skaldi could pass through. He meant to use them to claim the throne for himself.” A small crowd had gathered around the courier by now. “But the Skaldi turned on him, and he fled with his army into the mountains.”

I didn’t want to believe it. It was too awful a thing to contemplate, that the man I loved could betray our nation in such a way. Yet the rational part of my mind pointed out that a courier riding to the City had no reason to lie about such a thing. What purpose would he have in making up things about Isidore? It’s true, that part of my mind insisted, otherwise why carry such news to the City? This I understood, even as the rest of me rebelled at it. I was lover to a traitor, carrying a traitor’s child…

My legs seemed to be made of jelly. I clung to the railing so tightly my knuckles were white and sank to my knees, mind reeling. Footsteps sounded on the stairs as some of the crowd noticed me and meant to see that I was unharmed. Hands grabbed my arms and carefully lifted me up; I couldn’t have said whose they were.

“Anne!” someone cried out.

“Quick—she might lose the child!”

I could not say what exactly happened next, only that my head was spinning and the shock of the news rendered me unable to focus on anything else. The next thing I can recall clearly is lying on my bed. I turned my head to see Thèrese sitting in a chair at the bedside, watching me intently. “Thèrese?” I asked, sitting up.

She held up a hand and I settled back down on the pillows. “You’re in shock from what you just heard. You need to rest and steady yourself.”

My hand came to rest on my stomach. Nothing felt out of the ordinary, indeed the babe moved as if in response to my apprehension. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Had I fallen down the stairs, the worst might’ve happened. Thèrese’s gaze moved from my face to my stomach. “I’m so sorry, Anne.”

Everything was a haze. All I could think of was the revelation that Isidore was a traitor. He’d never said anything to me indicating he coveted the throne, not once in the years we’d been lovers. The only time I could recall him showing any sort of ambition when he told me about the triumph he and Baudoin had been grated by the King. Yet it had clearly been growing inside him for years and he’d kept it from me. I had to wonder—how well did I really know him? What else had he kept from me? “Oh Isidore, how could you?” I whispered, turning away from Thèrese. After a few minutes passed, I heard her chair scrape across the floor followed by the sound of her shoes as she walked out of the room. The tears flowed then, as if a dam holding them back had burst.

#kushiel's legacy #simple pleasures #isidore d'aiglemort #anne livet #jesatriafic

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watchoutforthefanfics · 5 years ago

Text

Request

For @weird-is-my-middle-name-i-swear

Logince // "I thought I was going to lose you."

(I chose Logince because I love writing some angsty Logan.)

Buckle up, buttercups. I was crying at 2:40 in the morning finishing this. I'm sorry in advance, it does have a happy ending though.

TW: "Death" mention, car-crash mention, panic attack, essentially griefing, pretty heavy angst.

Logan was unfocused, his mind hazily reading over the crisp pages in the brisk daylight of the afternoon.

Roman had gone off that morning, he had went to go out and grab some groceries and some art supplies; Logan had wanted to come with, but Roman --for some reason-- had insisted on his boyfriend staying home.

However, he wasn't upset about it; Logan respected his choice (although it was confusing as to why he seemed so defensive) because he wanted to get caught up on his new book series anyway.

So he stayed home, the quiet hum of a documentary in the back of his head; just until it wasn't a soothing voice talking about nature's food pyramid anymore.

Logan flinched at the distant sound of sirens, aimlessly grabbing at the remote to turn it off; which took longer than he expected.

Just as soon as he grabbed the remote, the voice caught in his head with a familiar street; "-this morning, a tragic car crash on Lakens Drive just on the way downtown has been reported-"

Logan, had a little bit of fear in his stomach and the thoughts were making it climb into his throat.

"L-Lakens Drive-" he muttered to himself, trying to remember it's familiarity, trying to remember where it was.

It was the road that connected their house to 'Ally's', the discount grocery store Roman had gone to.

Logan sat up, the book forgotten in his mind as it fell onto the couch, his hand eagerly turning up the volume.

The view was devastating, as the woman continued explaining, "As you can see, the car was struck in the third lane and flipped reportedly three times into a ditch just off the side of the road."

Logan was trying so desperately to see the car, trying so desperately to see something he didn't recognize; everything was unclear. He found himself begging the woman to speak, to tell him, to tell him what had happened.

To tell him that it wasn't Roman.

"News of this story is flooding in as we air-" the woman spoke with a pained voice, as there was a deep regret in her eyes, "-the car, although too damaged to view it's original color, has been confirmed to be-"

Logan clenched his fists, his chest beginning to heave, "Not a 2018 Lexus RX, not a 2018 Lexus RX, not a 2018 Lex-"

"-a 2018 Lexus RX. It's inhabitants are still unclear, and the police have yet to release a report-"

He could feel his mind crumble, the only thing keeping him steady was a broken hope that it wasn't Roman, because it couldn't be. Right?

Roman wouldn't- Roman couldn't die going out and getting groceries, the probability of that was so minimal; he couldn't believe he was thinking about such small statisti-

"This just in," the woman grimaced, "-the driver of the Lexus is an unidentified male guessed to be in his mid-to-late 20s, and is currently on life support at Lynidor Hospital."

Logan felt a lump in his throat, his body jerking and hands shaking; he felt like he was going to throw up.

It wasn't possible, it wasn't possible, Roman wasn't, he couldn't be-

Logan's vision began to blur and the lights seemed so bright, he could hardly feel the carpet under his toes; the carpet Roman got as a housewarming gift the first day they met.

With shaking hands, he ransacked his pockets and yanked his phone out, clicking on his contact and hoping deep, deep in his chest that everything was okay that he'd hear his stupid, arrogant voice over the phone.

It was sent to voicemail, as Logan scrambled to do it again, "Maybe, he-he just didn't see it."

And yet again, he was greeted with the oddly pleasant but eerie, "Hello there, you've reached THE Roman Elliott's cellphone! Sorry, I couldn't get to you, I'm either working on the newest success or wooing my beloved. Leave a voicemail at the tone, and I will get back to you... eventually."

Logan's fingers lead the way, as he kept calling; like his mind was so numb and it was all he remember how to do. His breathing was deep sighs that he couldn't get back from and his heart felt like it was ripped out of his chest.

He slowly sunk to the floor, holding himself with his open arm; he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, and his life wasn't functioning without Roman.

He couldn't function without Roman.

But he had to calm down, because all of these overwhelming feelings of his heart racing and his mind plummeting; he... needed someone with a clear head.

"L? Do you know how early it i-" a groggy voice echoed into his ear, a taste of bitterness in his tone.

Logan interrupted, holding back a strangled sob, "Virgil, Roman... isn't answering his phone."

"Woah, Logan, are you crying? What's going on? Do you want Patton and I to come over until he gets back or-" Virgil rambled, obviously not used to Logan being the one crying.

"It... It was a 2018 Lexus RX, Virgil-" Logan said breathily, his heart pounding and his brain frozen he couldn't think, he couldn't remember how to speak, "-o-on Lakens Drive and Roman had went to get bread --bread for my stupid Crofters toast-- and he isn't responding to me, I-"

Virgil was calm, his tone confused, "L, slow down. I can't understand you. Here, I'll put you on speaker, but you need to breathe with me, alright? 4, 7, 8."

Logan's breaths shook, and they weren't stable and he keep messing up- but Virgil was there for him; restarting the count like nothing had happened.

And finally after enough time had passed and Logan could speak, he did so, simply and straight to the point, "Turn on channel 6."

The two males on the other line, did so, he could hear the sirens through the phone and the silence that swallowed him whole was all he needed to feel. They knew the implications.

"Roman... H-He went to get bread, for toast, and he isn't answering my calls. And I..." Logan swallowed, "-I don't know what to do."

Patton let a desperate, raspy tone escape his lips, "Y-You don't think-"

Virgil was silent, the kinda silence that pierced Logan, another pain and hurt to add to his thousands; he was... frozen, like it hadn't happened and like his heart was still in tac.

He... He wanted to be with Roman forever, he realized it then, on the carpet that felt like clouds; he realized that he had missed out on so much. He realized he wanted the cliche pageantry just to see Roman in a gorgeous gown, and to love him until the end of time.

He wouldn't mind doing anything for Roman.

"Logan," Virgil spoke, careful but determined, "-we don't know it was him. And we need to have hope until we know it isn't, it isn't... logical to assume it-"

Nothing was logical with Roman; not with the first day he met him, not with the feelings he got when he brought him coffee every morning, not when he sowed him a scarf out of the softest fabric he could find, and not when he had taken him to the citiy's biggest library as their first date.

"Y-You're right, Virgil-" Logan began shakily, as his heart mended just a little bit at the idea of hope, "-I'm going to call him one more time, and if he doesn't answer..."

It was remorseful on both sides on the phone, "I will get in touch with the police."

Logan was quick to hang up, a sob breaking through his body; he needed to cry, like a body-racking sob before he could face it again.

But, he got the courage, taking the phone in his hands as he gently pressed on his contact, bracing himself for whatever was to come.

He didn't expect it to answer with the next few seconds, nor did he expect the line to be filled with distant chatter, like other people.

And Logan, with one last breath of hope, asked with a broken voice and stifled heart, "R-Roman?"

It was quiet for a moment, like the distant talking had halted in shock, maybe? And it took more than just a few seconds for a voice to answer back, flooded with concern and immediate curiousity.

"Logan? Is everything alright? You had called me three times, and I thought something was wro-"

Logan sobbed, a desperate sob that reached through his soul and back; his voice just stitched his heart and all the nonsensical pain.

"Hey, Logan, honey. I'm coming home-" Roman sighed, concern evident in his voice, "-okay, sweetheart?"

"D-Don't hang up on me-" Logan spoke, in a strangled sob, "-please."

"Never, bee-" Roman hummed, "I'll just hook you up to bluetooth. So, that I'm safe alright?"

Logan sniffled, tears flowing freely down his cheeks again; God, he felt so much better, but worst at the same time.

Roman did most of the talking, just chatting about everything; things he found at Michael's, about his new projects, and about a girl named Tiffany who had given him a weird look when he said 'boyfriend' (to which he raided the Pride merch in Hot Topic and wore it around the rest of the visit).

"I love you, Roman," Logan spoke with as stuffy nose and not a single moment of hesitation.

Roman obviously still a little concerned, but he didn't second guess it, "I love you too, Logan."

Roman started up again, this time about old memories and distance dates and quiet nights and days that Logan could remember so vividly. Just until Roman said he had arrived, and after making sure it was okay about 20 times, he hung up.

Shooting Virgil a text, Logan felt a rest deep within his chest and he felt the pain fade just as he did with Roman's voice.

He didn't move, he couldn't, everything was just so numb and hurt and sore; he had thought Roman was dead, he had thought the love of his life was gone forever. He couldn't just recover.

Then, the door opened and slowly and carefully; Roman was safely back into the house. The feeling of relief that drenched him whole, was so liberating that he began crying again, just a few silent tears running down his cheeks as his fingertips ached to grab onto Roman and never let go again.

"Sweetheart?" Roman spoke, "What happene-"

The tv was just loud enough to gain his attention, his warm brown eyes locked onto a familiar screen with a familiar car and a single tag: One Dead In Tragic Crash.

Roman, slowly walking to his boyfriend as held out his arms, spoke calmly and sympathetically, "Oh, Logan."

Logan desperately latched onto his boyfriend, his hands gripping at his shirt, feeling his heartbeat deep in his chest, and feeling the fall of his chest: he was breathing, he was alive.

His hands wrapping around his boyfriend, he sobbed into his shoulder, "I thought I was going to lose you."

Roman, biting back tears, spoke soft and careful, "I know, I know, baby. I'm here, and I'm never leaving again."

And if there was a velvet box tucked away in a pocket, now was not the time to deal with it.

Because all Logan needed was Roman, and Roman didn't think there would ever be a day he didn't need Logan.

#sanders sides #ts logan #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #logince #logince angst #im not crying i swear #im not crying youre crying #im not crying you are #implied moxiety #moxiety #background moxiety #im sorry #ask requests #requests

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stilwaterskeeter · 5 years ago

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Gatboss Headcanons

If you didn’t see this post coming.....how bold of you to assume I wasn’t gonna make this post eventually...

Anyways

Boss fell first

Well maybe “fell” isn’t the right word for it. They liked Johnny first and they realized it first, he’s an attractive and charismatic guy somehow how could they not?

They fell for him when he took a shotgun blast to the knee and then still took out Big Tony long enough for The Playa to get away

Johnny was always into The Boss too but it took him a lot longer to realize and even longer to step up to the plate

Aisha’s not stupid, she knew before Johnny did, she’s always known in a way

She believes in the soulmates kinda thing, she thinks that yeah she and Johnny are soulmates, but so are Johnny and The Boss

She absolutely encourages them but in vague and snide comments mostly, Johnny’s damn oblivious and doesn’t catch on ever

The Boss catches on easy enough, they think it’s a little weird that Aisha supports it but they’re a go with the flow kinda person so they just roll with it

Aisha even invites The Boss on some of her and Johnny’s dates

Johnny is of course Johnny and doesn’t really see anything weird with his homie hanging out at their dates

Queue The Boss and Aisha rolling their eyes like “can you believe we’re in love with this guy?”

Aisha and The Boss were planning on having a nice date (nice by Johnny’s standards, so watching shitty action flicks and eating Freckle Bitch’s) where they finally sat Johnny down to have The Talk and be like “Hey, you’re kind of dense. Do you realize we’re both dating you?”

Said plan never happens because The Ronin get in the way

And then Aisha dies

The Boss definitely isn’t about to step up and say anything now or anytime soon, Johnny needs time to mourn and honestly so does The Boss

Funny enough, it’s not long after her death and funeral that Johnny realizes he might be in love with The Boss and might have been for a while

The Boss is the first person Johnny sees aside from a doctor or nurse when he’s in the hospital and they don’t give him any of that pity crap, they don’t even bring up Aisha at all unless Johnny does

They’ve always been good at that with him, knowing when and what to keep their mouth shut about

Not to mention they don’t miss a beat when the power goes out, Johnny doesn’t even have the time to make a joke about leaving right then because The Boss is already ahead of him on that, they give him a pistol “just in case” and they’re off

And they let him deal with Shogo, only stepping in to help bury the brat, didn’t even say anything, didn’t need to. They were gonna stay by his side through it all and probably as long as they’re both still standing at this point

And now that he’s thinking about it, The Boss was always hanging around with him and Aisha even before the boat explosion and especially when Johnny was all but bedridden for a while after getting his knee blown out and kidnapped

And shit they’re really fuckin’ funny and they’re really fuckin good lookin’ too

Johnny still doesn’t say anything though, he thinks it’d be kinda fucked up to say something when they only just buried Aisha maybe a few weeks ago

But he’s going to say it eventually...just not now...but eventually

Eventually never comes

They’re always hanging out and they go on what Johnny thinks probably count as dates

They go to the movies to see every shitty action flick and every shitty horror flick and even to some animated movies

They get kicked out for talking too much and too loudly and for throwing their food everywhere during the action and horror movies

They do their damn best to stay during the animated movies, it’s hard to enjoy your guilty pleasures if you’re not paying attention or focused on some asshole security guard trying to manhandle you out of the theater

And they go to some of the Skeeters games for a while

Until they get banned because they ran onto the playing field drunk and naked and “ruined” the game

Of course they think they made it better, but oh well

But Johnny just never speaks up, there’s always another gang war on the horizon looming over them or cops or something

After a while he thinks maybe The Boss doesn’t feel the same and just sort of decides not to tell them

It’s not like it’d make any difference, they’re still gonna go to the movies and the shooting range and shit

And then they try to rob The Syndicate’s bank

Johnny doesn’t stop for a moment to think that maybe this is it for them so of course he doesn’t think to tell The Boss how he feels

But then The Boss and Shaundi jump and there’s a fucking alien trying to abduct him and fuck, he’s missed his window

Johnny’s death hits The Boss fucking hard, but lbr we been knew that

They don’t let their anger or their sadness or anything that they’re feeling show half as much as they want to

Shaundi’s already angry enough for the both of them and The Boss needs to make sure she doesn’t get reckless because they’re not about to lose anymore friends

It’s a silent anger for the most part, they shut up, shoot, and move on in their fights and during their plans. They’re going to personally put a fucking bullet in Loren’s head and they’re going to level this fucking city if they have to to get to him

After Loren’s dead they realize that fuck it, they don’t need the territory, they just want to go home and bury Johnny and do fuck all for a few weeks or months maybe

Before they go back to Steelport after Johnny’s funeral is raided, The Boss stops by Johnny’s house and grabs some of his gold chains, they start to wear some of them themself

The also take one of his knives and tie one of the chains around the handle. They have every intention to use the knife to tear into Killbane themself

After everything is said and done, there’s sort of just this hole and they know damn well there’s no filling it

Shaundi and Pierce try to help because of course they noticed

Shaundi tries to take them out and help them get fucked up and just let loose or to a shooting range to just go crazy in

Pierce takes them for drives with the playlist he’s got for when they’re hanging out at full blast so they can sing and just bullshit around town

It does help some and cheers them up a little, but that hole is definitely not going away

All the others try to help in their own ways

Kinzie goes with them to Smiling Jack’s

Angel spars with them

Viola takes them to clubs or these expensive art shows

Oleg just sort of hangs out with them, he tries to entertain them with small things like seeing what kind of stuff he can crush in his bare hands or a game where they watch russian dramas and The Boss tries to guess what they’re saying and what’s going on and Oleg just watches and occasionally actually helps

Eventually the hole subsides and then they’re the president then they’re in space and Earth ks destroyed

The Boss likes to joke about how much it all seems like the plot for one of the shitty movies they and Johnny used to watch

But then Kinzie says she’s found Johnny, that he’s not dead

Fuck everyone else they’re going get Johnny, smart idea of not, The Boss is not losing him again

Once Johnny’s back they both try to ignore how awkward it is

They both wanna tell the other but after so many years it just seems pointless

The crew gets sick of it after a week and pull an old “lock them in a room until they confess”

The crew has clearly forgotten how stubborn The Boss and Johnny both are

It doesn’t work and the crew gives up because they need The Boss actually to do their job

After the crew’s little mishap, Johnny admits defeat and confronts The Boss himself

“Listen, man, I don’t wanna like freak you out or anythin’ but I’ve missed you a lot and you kind of mean a lot to me and I didn’t really show that before and I really never told you this but what I’m tryna say is I think I’m probably kind of in love with you...or something...”

Of course it goes well and of course the first thing they do is sleep together

“I can’t believe it...Aisha was right.”

“She was what?”

��Johnny, why do you think Aisha invited me on all of your dates?”

“Isn’t that just what homies do? I thought she just liked the company...”

They don’t ever announce it or anything but they’re not exactly keeping it a secret either

The Boss calls Johnny their First Lady all the time because it gets on Johnny’s nerves

“Aw c’mon, that’s bullshit! I was never on Earth when you were president!”

“Doesn’t make it any less true, Johnny!”

Of course the crew had bets about how this was going to end

Pierce, Kinzie, Keith, and Ben have to pay Shaundi, Asha, and Matt

Pierce also has to pay Shaundi extra because they’ve had a bet going since SR2

Pierce thought The Boss and Johnny were already an item

Shaundi took one look at them and went “oh hell no, they’re gonna be pining for a while, dude”

Man, was she right, it took Johnny’s death, an alien invasion, and the destruction of Earth for them to even tell each other

#saints row #johnny gat #gatboss #bossgat #stop talkin playa #now featuring optional boss/aisha for your enjoyment!#but I wrote it in a way that can be read as platonic too #Aisha is Johnny's number one wingman #even if he doesn't know it

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 years ago

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Supercorp SAO AU, Pt 3

Kara hasn't ever met Lena's husband. Honestly, she isn't entirely sure Lena has either. He's never home, Lena's apartment very much her own from the art to the books to the furniture. If not for the occasional tabloid photo, the wedding portrait on Lena's mantel, and the rings on her left hand, Kara might have assumed the husband to be a specter to dissuade would-be suitors. Even so, she can't help but notice the way Lena's smile dims when she sees his number on her phone during movie night. "It's nothing," Lena says, when Kara works up enough nerve to mention it. "He likes to pick fights. I used to enjoy the debates we'd have, but lately... I don't know. It doesn't feel like debate anymore. And at the end of the day I don't have the energy for it." Over the weeks and months, Kara learns about him in bits and pieces. That he was a friend of Lex's, and that they fell in love over the course of several summers. That he had his own tech company, who had just migrated to a new market on another continent, hence his absence. One time, Kara arrives to movie night to hear Lena almost shouting into her phone. Her tone is the kind Kara only heard once in all their time in Aincrad-- when she'd been on the verge of committing murder, against a player who had nearly poisoned Kara to death. Dark, menacing, and inhumanly cold.

"Come anywhere near my company again, and I will slap you with enough lawsuits to keep you and your pathetic excuse for a firm underwater for the next thirty years. Do you understand me?" She barely pauses long enough for her victim to open their mouth before interrupting, her voice pitching even lower. "I said-- do. you. understand. I want to hear you say it."

Lena hasn't registered Kara's arrival yet, and so Kara shifts awkwardly as she waits, trying not to watch as Lena's lips twist into a cruel smirk. "Good boy." She ends the call shortly thereafter, and starts in surprise when she turns to find Kara standing in her foyer. "Kara! Gosh, you startled me!" She sounds like herself again, but Kara eyes her warily. "Is tonight a bad time? I can come back--" "Don't be ridiculous!" Lena beams, rolling her eyes. "Marital squabbles might be a bitch, but it'll take a lot more than that to keep us from movie night. What's on for tonight? Die Hard?" Before long, Kara is curled up against Lena's side on the couch, sharing a blanket as Bruce Willis yippee-ki-yays across the screen. The call lingers at the back of her mind, and she decides right then and there that if Lena's husband is someone who brings out that side of her.... he doesn't know Lena at all. Perhaps Kara's favorite part of their friendship is their party. It happens by accident-- Kara stumbles across her during a trial period of a new VR. She's an elf this time, and her username is Kieran, but her avatar still looks mostly like herself. "I didn't know you played," Kara says, scuffed her dwarven boot against the ground. She's a little hurt that Lena hasn't ever mentioned it. "I should have told you," Lena admits. "I'm sorry I didn't, but after what you told me about your time in SAO, I was worried if we connected in a game, I... I guess I worried I wouldn't measure up to her. It sounds really silly to say it out loud. I really cherish our friendship, Kara, and I was scared I might lose it if you spotted too many differences between us. Between me and her." Kara smiles, and throws her short, but strong arms around Lena and squeezes right. "Not possible." After that, they're inseperable in the VR world. They try new games together, and the nature of Lena's position grants Kara beta access to countless games still in development. They explore entire worlds together, and Kara finds that Lena needn't be worried at all. She is Lena. The Lena Kara loved in Aincrad didn't stray far from the template of her creator's personality and fighting style, and in VR Lena comes alive in a way she doesn't in the real world-- as though anything could top that. In VR Kara watches Lena lead raid parties with expert precision, sharp and intense but also warm and inviting. More than once Lena helps inexperienced players level up, and shares the secret spawn points for creatures that drop rare items. Kara misses Lena-in-Aincrad, misses what they shared together, but she loves this Lena, the whole of Lena, with her entire being. Eventually, they beta test ALO together, by virtue of the fact that Lena's husband headed the development team that produced the matrix for it. It's a world that rivals Aincrad in beauty and scale. Better yet, it allows magic use, and every race has the ability to fly. One day, they spend an afternoon simply flying through a rainstorm, dodging lightning bolts and collecting thunderbells to smith armor with. Somewhere between the rain on her skin and laughter that gets swallowed by thunder, Kara simply stops and watches as Lena loops into a tight corkscrew to snag an escaping ingot. Her grin is as bright as the lightning, and when their eyes meet Kara's chest tightens at the heated expectance that opens Lena's features into something intimately familiar. Before either of them can speak, the in-game alarm alerts them to the end of their scheduled session, Kara immediately wakes and rolls to her phone. I love you. She almost hits send, but the phone buzzes in her hand before her finger can tap the button. Not a bad way to spend the last day of beta, Lena texts, with pulsing dots following to warn of an incoming note. I think that might be my favorite quest so far. Catch you next rainstorm? Kara deletes her previous message. Launch Day is marked on my calendar. Can't wait. The pulsing dots appear and disappear several times before Lena's next message finally comes through. You're my favorite. Kara rolls over, clasping her phone to her pounding chest. As she drifts off to sleep, those three words sear themselves across the back of her eyelids. You're my favorite. --- "So when will you be back online?" Kara asks over the phone almost a month later. The ALO launch is coming up, and their standing date (it's not a date) looms in the back of Kara's mind. Across the line, Lena sighs. "I'm not sure." Lena's work has kept her busy since their night chasing lightning. They've barely spoken, let alone lunched or gamed. "Were still on for the ALO launch, though, right?" Silence answers her. In a rare moment of petulance, Kara pouts. "Lena, you promised." "Yeah," Lena breathes. "Yeah, you're right, I did. At this point it looks like I might be traveling that day, but I'll try to reschedule some things. I don't know how much time I can spare though." "That's okay!" Kara chirps, grabbing at the compromise with both hands. "I just want to see you. I miss you." "I miss you too, you have no idea." A rumble of voices on the other end cuts their time short. "Sorry, I have to go," Lena says. "But I'll do what I can, I promise." "Okay. See you then." From that night on, Kara counts down the days. When Launch Day dawns, Kara logs in immediately. She waits for hours, selecting an avatar that looks almost like herself. In fact it's a dead ringer except for the white feathered wings that fold up snugly against her back, and unfurl between the slats of her armor. As she waits for Lena to log in, she experiments with her new wings (during beta, she'd chosen fairy wings), and revels in the power of every stroke. She feels the most like she did in Aincrad, and it feels like coming home. But as she waits, the faces who greet her aren't Lena's. She passes on joining other survivors for a commemorative hunt, even as the sun dips below the horizon, and in her heart she knows Lena won't make it. Still she waits. Just in case. When she finally logs out, Kara texts Lena, but sends only a frowning emoji. Then she turns it off and goes to sleep, determined to let whatever apology Lena sends sit unopened until she wakes. But no response is waiting for her when she gets up the next morning, and none comes for the entire week that follows. That week spreads to two, and then three. Kara's disappointment shifts to irritation when she assumes Lena is trying to avoid her after missing the launch, but then snaps to concern when even her calls go unanswered until her voicemail is too full to record any more. Something is wrong. She calls Lena's office, her assistant, sends countless emails, but gets nothing except a cagey brush off from Lena's assistant. When Kara goes to L-Corp herself, she's rebuffed at the door. "Orders came down from the top, Miss Danvers. You're no longer permitted in the building." "What? That's ridiculous! Lena wouldn't--" "You'll have to take that up with her, ma'am." "I'm TRYING." But to no avail. Kara gets nowhere, and is left bewildered and hurt and afraid for Lena who she can't quite believe would cut her out so abruptly. Alex doesn't have any advice to give her, except to be patient and keep trying. So all Kara can do is log in to ALO every night, and watch her friend list, praying that Lena will log in. She never does. Then, one night, Kara receives an anonymous message in her inbox. She doesn't know how a player could send an anonymous message, as the privacy on her inbox is set to friends only. Nevertheless, she opens it. "Meet me tomorrow night at 1am." It includes a National City address. She doesn't need Alex to tell her it's a bad idea. But her gut tells her it's about Lena-- maybe even Lena herself-- and so she goes to the location at the designated time with her heart in her throat. It's not Lena. Rather, it's her assistant, Jess. "Come with me," Jess tells her. Kara obeys, and after a furtive drive through the city, Jess leads her into a nondescript building that has more locked doors than Fort Knox. Finally, Jess swipes her security pass over the final sensor, and pushes into a room filled with medical equipment. For a moment, Kara sees her own hospital room, when she woke up from her SAO coma, filled with the same equipment. She's had this dream before. But the figure lying prone in the sterile bed isn't herself. It's Lena. "Oh my god." "She logged in the morning of the ALO launch," Jess informs her, her voice quiet. "She cleared her schedule for it. But she never woke up, and when we reviewed the game data, it never showed her syncing up to the game." Lena's features are slack inside the visor of the NervGear. When Kara takes her hand, her skin is cool, and waxy, like it isn't even human. But it is. Kara recognizes the scar on Lena's wrist, from a soldering accident when she was twelve. "I don't believe them," Jess murmurs. Kara blinks. "What?" "The new Nerv models are designed with multiple redundancies after the SAO incident. If she didn't connect, Lena would have woken up instantly." "Is it possible it could have been tampered with?" Jess shrugs. "Maybe. But the logistics of doing so without Lena noticing just aren't feasible." Kara regards her solemnly. "It sounds like you have an alternate theory." "It would be easier to alter the game data than tamper with the gear. Someone involved with the game's development would have easy access and ample opportunity." Someone involved in the game's development? Like... "Her husband?" "He's already assumed her seat on the board as interim chair. And he's already proposing changes Lena vetoed earlier this year. There enough members who agreed with Lena's veto that they've resisted him so far, but it won't be long before he wears them down." Rage burns low in Kara's belly. Bastard. Gritting her teeth, she meets Jess' gaze. The woman's face is well past angry-- she's exhausted, and at the end of her rope. It's clear that Kara is her last hail mary. "I'm going to lose my job the moment they find out I brought you here," Jess warns. "After that, I won't have any access. But I can't help her from here anyway." "You think she's trapped in the game," Kara surmises. Jess nods. "My guess is there's a backdoor that lets them control a small area of the game. To avoid detection by the moderating algorithms, they've probably built it into the context of the game-- an uncharted area that only becomes available after completing a legendary quest." Or clearing the final floor boss, Kara thinks bitterly. Her hand tightens on Lena's limp fingers. This is SAO all over again, except this time... This time, Lena is alone. "I've been searching every second I spend at home, but haven't found anything," Jess continues. "But I'm certain the answer to waking Lena up is in the game itself. That's why I reached out to you." Kara's head lifts sharply, surprised by the admission. Jess returns her gaze solemnly, her features hard. "If anyone can beat a broken game from the inside, it's you."

previous / next

#supercorp #sao au #angst #the plot thickens #supercorp endgame #does this count as slowburn?

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thewriterwithnoplan · 5 years ago

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The Anti-Hero (Part 2)

Summary: They always told her a few key things; Humans are not loving, And Humans are not divine. Midgard is not safe, And Midgard is not kind. Earth is not good, And Earth is not pure. Terra is not clean, And Terra is not secure. The unspoken truths of humanity. Maybe it was high time she believed them. Pairing: Eventual!Peter Parker x Reader Word Count: 1198 Warnings: None.

Y/N fumbled - rather inelegantly - through her bedroom window. It had been another long day, in which the girl had raided her fifth shop this month. She wasn’t exactly the worst villain around but bad enough to warrant the attention of small-time heroes like Spiderman.

It had been some years since she had seen the Avengers and the girl still woke up in a cold sweat. Considering the fact that the last time she had seen them they had beaten her mentor – the strongest sorcerer she knew - she wasn’t really up for coming face to face with them again.

In fact - if you didn’t count her criminal activity – Y/N lived a calm life, so far off the grid that even SHIELD thought her dead. The only trace left of her was the girl in green and gold, or rather Mischief. It was an alias she had taken to honor her imprisoned mentor.

When she donned her mask of elegant gold, she was able to make them all pay for what they did. Mischief made the humans pay for the life of Loki. The innocent life that they had ripped away from her and condemned to a prison cell. The life that the girl in green and gold would not forget.

“Where have you been then?” Y/N whirled upon the voice, a dagger in hand. “Put the weapons down child.”

The girl rolled her eyes, unclasping her cloak and threw it over her desk chair, “Hello to you too, Mordor.”

“You missed training,” Was all the man said.

“It’s Saturday.”

Mordor gave a heavy sigh, “You asked me to be your mentor. That means you follow my rules, that means training on Saturday.”

“I didn’t ask you for anything,” Y/N snapped. “Just because both of our relics are Vaulting Boots of Valtorr and you are required by Mystic Law to train me, does not make you my mentor.”

Mordor mumbled something about disrespecting the ancient arts and stormed from the room. Y/N let out a relieved sigh, she really did hate him. Sure, he helped provided a roof over her head – although she paid her part in rent – and trained her in combat and the mystic arts. But by the gods, his need to replace Loki was infuriating.

And yet Mordor was still one of the only Midgardians that Y/N could tolerate. Not that he knew that in fact Mordor still thought she was human. The man was terribly oblivious, to the point that he completely ignored the fact that her magic was something never before seen.

Loki had once told her that she was rare even among Asgardians. They were called Elementals. Magic wielders with the ability to control fire or air or water, or in her case soil. It was probably what drew Loki’s attention and lead to him agreeing to mentor her.

Since her first lesson all those years ago, her powers had only grown. What had once been a feeble ability to push and pull water had developed into control. Her skills with soil had matured until it bent fully to her will. Loki had taught her most of what she knew but she’d had other teachers after him.

Thor had been the one to train her in all things battle. From war planning to hitting people over the head. It had gone hand in hand with her dagger-wielding abilities and scheming mind – nurtured by none other than the God of Mischief.

Frigga had taken up where Loki had left off after his first death. Her teachings had been less about the complex spells Loki had taught her and more theory. It had been Frigga who taught the girl how to build up reserves of magic, set up wards and enchantments that lasted longer and how to do the more trivial spells that Loki had overlooked.

Of course, Y/N couldn’t give herself and the many mentors she’d had, all the credit. She’d been gifted with countless magical relics to aid her. Everything from the vanishing daggers from Loki, to her battle armour from Thor, had played a part in perfecting her skills. Lately, her favorite relics were the Vaulting Boots of Voltorr, which – like Mordor’s own boots – allowed her to jump through the air.

“Is that man still trying to replace me?” Y/N whirled again, summoning a dagger from wherever they went when she vanished them. She threw one, allowing it to fly through the man, “Oh, calm down.”

“Mind telling me when you’re coming to visit?” She huffed at the Asgardian Prince before her. “Not that it isn’t pleasant to hear from you, Loki.”

“I am pleasant, aren’t I?” He mused, “I thought you’d want to be filled in. Ragnarök was averted, we destroyed Asgard, so we shall see you in Midgard.”

Now you may be wondering what’s going on. It was simple really. Y/N was stuck on Earth but that didn’t mean she liked to stay uninformed. In fact, for years now she had been squireling away information. Including the resurrection – several resurrections actually – of her long thought dead mentor.

You see Y/N was an Asgardian and if Loki taught her anything it was this; Knowledge is power, and information is currency. So, while the girl had resorted to burglary to bring in a steady income she was beyond rich. It was information from the last Valkyrie that had led her to Loki. Who – since his time on Sakaar – had been contacting her daily through illusions.

“Gee thanks,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Do you want to elaborate on why our realm was obliterated or am I supposed to guess?”

“I told you about our estranged sister Hela,” She nodded slowly, piecing it together. “She-“

The Loki illusion turned as if mirroring the actions of the real man – who was currently in a spaceship if she was correct. An alarm started blaring from somewhere behind him. The Prince turned back to her, wide-eyed. A mask of calm locked quickly into place, but she saw it. That one moment of terror.

“Someone’s on the ship,” He told her.

Chills crept up her back and suddenly she was a scared child, “It’s him, isn’t it? The mad titan.”

“He’s after the Infinity Stones,” Loki nodded grimly in conformation. “They’ll go for Midgard next. Swear to me that you will not get involved.”

“I can help.”

“You can help by staying put,” He frowned when she opened her mouth to protest yet again. “All will be fine, but I need you to swear it.”

Y/N huffed a small sigh. He had always kept her out of the real fights. Sure, on more than one occasion she had tagged along with the two Princes and their warrior friends but whenever a real battle came up… Loki was always there to make her promise to stay safe, to hang back. It must have truly been serious for him to demand her to do so now.

“Okay,” She bowed her head. “I swear it.”

“Then the sun will shine on us again, child.” He gave her the smallest of smiles before turning, a dagger materializing in his hand and then the illusion disappeared.

“It better.”

#loki #peter parker #loki laufeyson #loki layfeyson x reader #reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #loki x reader #y/n #peter x reader #peter x y/n #karl mordor #doctor strange #stephen strange

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