#I do not wish to know thine enemy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

twoidiotwriters1 · 21 days ago

Text

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: We love a mature love interest -Danny Words: 2,600 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Feels Like' -by Gracie Abrams

XLI: Lester My Man, You're Scaring the Hoes

"The Throne of Memory, we need it now!" Lester exclaims while Peaches carries in Meg. "Calypso—Notepad?"

"Got it!"

"Stay with me, Meg, you're among friends now. You're in the Throne of Mnemosyne. Speak your prophecy!"

Meg opens her mouth, an oracle voice coming out smoothly.

The words that memory wrought are set to fire,

Ere new moon rises o'er the Devil's Mount.

The changeling lord shall face a challenge dire,

Till bodies fill the Tiber beyond count.

"Oh, no," Lester winces. "No, no, no."

"What?" Leo asks.

"We're going to need a bigger notepad."

"Surely the prophecy's done—"

Yet southward must the sun now trace its course,

Through mazes dark to lands of scorching death

To find the master of the swift white horse

And wrest from him the crossword speaker's breath.

To westward palace must the Lester go;

Demeter's daughter finds her ancient roots.

The cloven guide alone the way does know,

To walk the path in thine own enemy's boots.

When three are known and Tiber reached alive,

'Tis only then Apollo starts to jive.

Meg slumps forward and Lester holds her, shaking like a leaf.

"What was that? Buy one prophecy, get three free? That was a lot of lines." Leo scoffs.

"It was a sonnet. May the gods help us; it was a Shakespearean sonnet."

"That was all one poem?" Thalia frowns. "But it had four different sections."

"Yes. The sonnet conveys only the most elaborate prophecies, with multiple moving parts. None of them good, I fear. We will parse our doom later. We should let Meg rest—" Lester collapses next to the girl suddenly, having run out of energy.

"I'm sorry about Festus..."

Leo grins. "Nah, man. I can put him back together easy enough. I redesigned him so he's like a Lego kit, built for quick assembly!"

Lester nudges her discretely and speaks in a whisper. "Did you tell him what happened at the cave?"

"Yeah," Ara sighs. "He's made his decision. And it's fine, really. He's right, trying to foresee what the right choice is, that's exactly why Janus had so much fun harassing me all these years. You can't opt out of heartache."

Lester hums, eyeing her carefully. "So what now?"

"Now I gotta figure out my new body settings. I still feel like sleeping, but I don't know what will happen if I do. What if I wake up in Olympus? Or worse, what if I combust and die?"

"Many humans have turned into gods," Lester says simply. "You'll be fine."

"You have no empathy towards my issue," she says and continues before he can deny it, "I get it, it feels unfair to you. Just don't try to comfort me, you won't do it right. Not even I know what I'm sad about, I'm having trouble recalling what I lost."

During the funeral rituals for Heloise the griffin, Ara stands with Thalia, needing to speak with someone who might know what she's feeling. "When you became a hunter," she says, "weren't you scared about the whole immortality bit?"

Thalia chuckles. "To be honest, no. I've got no hopes of living long either way, you know?"

Ara looks at her, now taller than the hunter. "I was twelve when I met you, now we're the same age. You've done well so far, so why not consider you might live a few centuries?"

Thalia puts an arm around her shoulders. "To me, you're always going to be a kid, just like Percy. Immortality doesn't change how I feel, it only messes up time, which is something I was already used to since I was a tree for years."

Ara sighs. "Right."

"I'm sorry I can't help you, Birdy," Thalia says empathetically.

"It's almost like you were fated to be where you are," she shakes her head. "I don't feel that way. I feel used."

Thalia raises a brow. "Ara, whether the gods tricked you into it or not, you do good in the world, and it doesn't matter how it came to be."

"I guess," her voice cracks, "I just wish I hadn't been stripped of my own sense of self in order to do so. I'm not Ara anymore."

Thalia hugs her. "You've never been anything other than who you've always been, you just haven't gotten the time to get to know your new body, but trust me—If you weren't you, Leo wouldn't have looked at you the way he did after you fought Commodus."

"My moms told me you might be my dad," Georgie says, staring at Lester's shoes.

"I—I might be, Georgina," Lester blushes down to his neck. "I don't know."

"'Kay. Made this for you. You can take it with you when you go away."

She hands him a doll made with pipe cleaners. "Thank you. Georgina, if you ever need me, if you ever want to talk—"

"No, I'm good."

Lester is slightly hurt as the girl runs back into Jo's arms. Ara pats his shoulder. "Don't take it personally. If my dad—" her voice catches in the word. "If my progenitor had shown up claiming to be part of my life... that's just stupid. A parent looks after you when you're vulnerable, not when you're old enough to not need them."

"Those visions in the cave... you met your dad?"

"Must've been primal memories," Ara frowns. "From the day he left me at the orphanage."

"But you know his face now, you could—"

"He's dead." Saying it out loud feels like taking off the heaviest winter coat. "Killed by one of you."

"A god?"

"He died within the day of abandoning me—not a chance of vindication for that guy... his car stopped working."

Lester scowls. "Well, it must've been Aphrodite."

"She would've told me," Ara shakes her head. "I mean, why wouldn't she? A man who rejects her gifts isn't worthy anymore."

"Who, then?"

"Maybe he pissed off someone else on the way, maybe the fates kill off the parents of abandoned demigods. Thalia's mom died after she gave away Jason..."

"So he's dead."

"Yeah..." And then she sniffs, crying softly.

Lester stiffens. "I'm sorry..."

"I'm happy," Ara admits, "I've feared for years that one day he'd try to take me away from my parents and I wouldn't be able to say no because I'm underage..." she sobs. "I was scared of a man that didn't even care enough to feel anything towards me... I get it now, why I cling to my title."

"You don't wanna feel like your father was right," Lester concludes, deeply understanding her. "That you were a curse."

"Now I find out he's been dead all along, that giving me away was a mistake..." She crumbles and clings to Lester, who wraps his arms around her, slightly shocked. "I think knowing would've been enough."

The Waystation is packed with cheery-looking people, even Meg and Lester look that way. Even Ara.

"Okay," says Calypso. "We've interpreted some of these lines, but we need your help, Apollo. Maybe you could start by telling us what happened at the Cave of Trophonius."

Meg is quick to hand over the responsibility. "Don't remember much. You two go ahead."

Lester and Ara take turns talking.

"I don't mind the Oracle being destroyed, but I worry about Georgie. She's always felt connected to that place. And Agamethus... she likes him a lot." Emmie says.

"The last thing I want is to cause more pain to Georgina. I think, though, the destruction of the cave was necessary. Not just for us. But for her. It may free her to move forward."

"We cannot remain," Ara adds. "Agamethus told you that the other day, didn't he? You told me that."

Lester remembers. "True. Maybe he was ready for this."

"All right, then," Jo continues. "About the prophecy..."

"The first stanza mentions the new moon," Thalia comments.

"Time limit," Leo sighs, draping one arm around Ara's shoulders. "Always a dang time limit."

"But the next new moon is in only five nights," the hunter frowns.

"Bodies filling up the Tiber," Emmie quotes, "I assume the Tiber refers to the Little Tiber, the barrier of Camp Jupiter in California."

"Yeah. The changeling lord... that's gotta be our homeboy Frank Zhang. And the Devil's Mount, that's Mount Diablo, right near the camp. I hate Mount Diablo. Ara and I fought Enchiladas there once."

"I got hit by lightning," Ara winces. "Not fun."

Jo glances at them with concern. "So the demigods of New Rome are about to be attacked."

"I believe the first stanza is all of a piece. It mentions the words that memory wrought. Ella the harpy is at Camp Jupiter, using her photographic memory to reconstruct the lost books of the Cumaean Sybil. The details aren't important right now. My guess is that the Triumvirate means to eliminate the threat by burning down the camp. The words that memory wrought are set to fire." Lester explains.

Calypso scowls. "Five days. How do we warn them in time? All our means of communication are down."

"We gotta send someone," Ara replies. "Can't be the hunters, they'll attract attention. That without mentioning they've done too much for us already."

"Damn right," Leo nods at the girl. "You've done enough for us, T."

Thalia glances at Ara with a little grin. "All in a day's work, guys. But you do owe me a bottle of the Texas hot sauce you were telling me about, Valdez."

"That can be arranged," Leo smirks.

"Well and good, but we're left with the same dilemma. How do we get a message to California in five days?"

"Me," Leo declares casually.

"Leo," Calypso shakes her head. "It took us six weeks just to get here from New York."

"Yeah, but with four passengers. And... no offense, one of them was a former god who was attracting us all kinds of negative attention and had no means to deal with it. Ara and I were dragging your butts until you got your magic back. I'll be fine."

Everyone looks at Ara like waiting for the bomb to explode, but instead, she smiles. "You sure you got this?"

"I travel fast and light," he taps the table with eager digits. "I've covered that much distance before by myself. I can do it."

"I believe you," Ara says. "But you told Lester you wanted an easy life..."

"I'll just enroll late for the spring semester! Cal can help me catch up. Besides, it'll be good to see Hazel and Frank again. And Reyna, too, though that girl still scares me."

"I love Reyna," Ara says, maybe too fancifully, because Leo glances at her with a scowl.

"Yeah, well," he reaches for a piece of her hair and tugs to regain her attention. "My point is, I've got plenty of time to start that life. You guys don't."

Lester sighs heavily. "No, we really don't."

"So we've got one stanza figured out. Yippee," Thalia puts away her knife. "What about the rest?"

"I'm afraid the rest is about Meg and me."

"Yep," Meg nods while still eating. "Pass the biscuits?"

Josephine gives her the entire basket. "So the line about the sun going southward, that's you, Apollo."

"Obviously. The third emperor must be somewhere in the American Southwest, in a land of scorching death. We get there through mazes—"

"The Labyrinth," Meg offers.

Ara groans. "I hate that place. I don't care how dormant Chiron thinks it is."

"We must find the crossword speaker," Lester insists. "I believe that refers to the Erythraean Sybil, another ancient Oracle. I... I don't remember much about her—"

"Surprise," Meg taunts him.

"But she was known to issue her prophecies in acrostics—word puzzles."

"Sounds bad. Annabeth told me how she met the Sphinx in the Labyrinth once. Riddles, mazes, puzzles... No thanks. Give me something I can shoot."

"I remember the Sphinx," Ara tilts her head. "Whiny."

"And the third emperor? Do you know who it is?" Emmie questions.

"Meg," Lester looks at the girl. "what about the line Demeter's daughter finds her ancient roots? Do you have any family in the Southwest? Do you remember ever going there before?"

Meg hesitates a millisecond before replying. "Nah."

Lester and Ara share a knowing look. "Hey, though," Leo pipes in. "That next line, The cloven guide alone the way does know. That means you get a satyr? They're guides, aren't they, like Coach Hedge was? That's, like, their thing."

"True," Jo nods. "But we haven't seen a satyr in these parts since—"

"Decades," Emmie sighs.

"I'll find us one," Meg burps.

"How?" Lester frowns.

"Just will."

"I wouldn't mind a satyr. My friend Grover is one," Ara ponders. "Haven't seen him in months..."

"That just leaves the closing couplet: When three are known and Tiber reached alive, / 'Tis only then Apollo starts to jive." Calypso reads again.

Leo wiggles in his seat doing a funny dance. "About time, man. Lester needs more jive."

"Hmph." Lester adopts a haughty expression. "I believe those lines mean we will soon know the identity of all three emperors. Once our next quest is complete in the Southwest, Meg and I can travel to Camp Jupiter, reaching the Tiber alive. Then, I hope, I can find the path back to my former glory."

"By... jive talkin'," Leo sings out of tune.

"Shut up," Lester grumbles.

Leo and Ara watch the hunters from the rooftop as they leave, riding the army of ostriches.

"Man, this never gets old," the boy grins, leaning against her. "By the way, you know Lester has a crush on you, right?"

Ara snorts so hard she coughs. "Yeah, right," she glances down at the aforementioned, currently bickering with Meg as they return to the Waystation. "He can't stand me."

"He can't stand how nervous you make him," Leo retorts. "Trust me, that guy is hanging by a thread."

"His soul light ignites for others."

"I said he's got a crush, not that he's happy about it," the boy clarifies. "Soul lights only show people's positive emotions. I wasn't happy to be crazy about you after like a day of knowing you. You saw mine until I gave in."

Ara shifts in her place uncomfortably. "Is that why you volunteered to travel to Camp Jupiter? To make sure I'm not left alone with Lester for long?"

"Nah, it's never gonna happen between you two," he laughs. "He's all spectacle and you're all substance. He would fizzle out the moment he tried to touch you."

Ara blushes. "Don't be dumb..."

"Reyna, on the other hand," he raises his voice teasingly, turning sideways against the railing to face her. "That's a conversation we gotta have out. I don't see no soul lights, but I practically heard you moan her name."

The girl gets even redder. "Leo!"

"Listen, I won't hate if you tell me you feel some kind of way about her. I also love a girl that can step on me, Ripley from Alien could get it—"

"Leo!"

"I just feel like... like you're no longer mine to keep. And if you feel more in tune with her than with me... I just... I want to know."

Ara stares at him, shocked but not angry. "Are you serious?"

"About 90%."

She doesn't even know what to answer. "Just because I'm... whatever I am, doesn't mean I suddenly developed an interest in dating multiple people at the same time!"

"Yeah, no, but I don't know, I feel like I'm hoarding too much real state that needs more than one person to look after it—"

"Are you calling me property right now?"

"I'm calling you a freaking goddess on earth," Leo huffs, "who is worth so much more than I can offer. I won't give you up, but if you... if you feel like you want something better, or different, I—"

"Leónidas," Ara holds his face. "Yes, I have a crush on Reyna, but this is crazy talk."

"You're only saying that because you haven't settled into power yet," he grumbles through a pout. "Let it simmer and see if you're still happy having me as your only partner."

"You're crazy. But I knew that since the start." She kisses his nose. "I can't believe Lester sent you spiralling like this—We've been dating for more than a year, Cracker."

"Technically, it's been nine months. I went missing for six."

"You were my boyfriend, weren't you?"

"Was I?"

"Duh."

That's a good enough response for Leo, so he kisses her.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

#twoidiots writing #leo valdez x oc #doo #leo valdez fanfic #pjo fanfic #toa fanfic

7 notes · View notes

sephirthoughts · 7 months ago

Note

Hi I know this is a ship like no one has ever thought of but I figure it’s not too strange considering the last prompt was for Vincent and Rufus.

Sephiroth and Rufus with the prompts of: 14, 20, 16, or 19. Please I need food here I’m dying and your writing is delicious 🥲

PREPARE THYSELF, ANONNIE, BECAUSE THINE WISH HATH BEEN GRANTED.

I only did #14 things you said after you kissed me, and #20 things you said that i wasn't meant to hear, because it turned into a whole fucking thing. Actually #16 things you said with no space between us is technically in there too. ANYWAY it is a lil angsty and not a necessarily happy ending, which you tumblr masochists are into as i understand it. Enjoyeee

TAGS: rufus x sephiroth, rufiroth? sephirus?, implied mysophobia, implied autism, two stupid 15 year olds kissing, first kisses, first heartbreak (for one of them sry bby)

rating: teen and up

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, explosions, helicopters

When Rufus stepped out of the building, there was a tall, silver-haired young man, waiting by the door of the armored limousine he was to ride in, in the convoy. Rufus looked him up and down, with a critical eye.

So, this was the famous war hero, Sephiroth. He was taller than all the other security personnel, and obviously in top physical condition, but he was also very young. The same age as Rufus, in fact, which did not inspire confidence in the fifteen-year-old young master of the Shinra dynasty.

Sephiroth bowed, as Rufus approached, and waited respectfully, while he got in the car. Then, to Rufus’ astonished annoyance, the boy climbed into the back of the car, too, and sat down in the seat across from his own.

Rufus scowled. “What the hell are you doing? Bodyguards ride up front, with the driver.”

“I prefer to ride here, young master,” Sephiroth replied smoothly.

“Well, I prefer you not talk back to me!” Rufus retorted, in indignant disbelief. “This is my personal space. Get out of it.”

The other boy didn’t move a muscle. “As long as I am assigned to your detail, I am responsible for your safety, and have scope to operate at my own discretion. I can do my job more efficiently from here, so I will stay where I am.”

“My father owns you. That means you have to do what I say.”

Green cat-eyes blinked at him. “I’m a person. You can’t own people.”

Rufus snorted with laughter. “You sure are ignorant. My father owns tens of thousands of people. Including every single one of you SOLDIERs. Meaning you.”

“I’m not ignorant, we’re having a philosophical difference of opinion,” Sephiroth returned calmly. “You say your father owns me, and I say I am employed by him. You’ve been taught that everyone who disagrees with you is stupid or inferior. That might make you feel powerful, in the short term, but whoever taught you to think that way wasn’t doing you any favors. Underestimating an opponent is a serious weakness, and your enemies will exploit it.”

Rufus’ pale cheeks flushed with anger and embarrassment at being so flatly (and effectively) contradicted, by someone he considered to be little more than a servant. “You can’t underestimate your enemies if you don’t have any! I’ll crush them all, before they get a chance to come after me!”

The silver head gave an approving nod. “A valid strategy. But how do you identify potential enemies?”

Rufus crossed his arms. “By looking for conflicting interests, obviously.”

“Exactly,” Sephiroth agreed. “Good intel is the most important element of any battlefield operation.”

“Not the most important,” Rufus argued, so engrossed in the conversation, he wasn’t aware that the convoy had departed, and they were already turning onto the freeway. “The most important things are manpower and tech. Without those, you can’t win a war.”

“Mn. True. But let’s say you have an army of fifty-thousand, and they’re equipped with the latest in cybernetic armor. And I have an army of thirty-thousand, with good but standard armor. Who is going to win?”

“I will. I have manpower and tech on my side.”

“But then, suppose my intelligence sector has done the legwork ahead of time, and I have learned of a fatal flaw in your cybernetic armor, that not only disables it, but causes injury to the wearers, making it much easier for my soldiers to incapacitate yours. Now, every one soldier of mine can easily take out two of yours. Who will win, then?”

“That takes away my armor advantage and makes your army effectively sixty-thousand strong,” Rufus frowned. “But that’s not fair! You cheated!”

“There is no fairness in war. Any and all means of achieving victory are valid, including deception and treachery. Because if you don’t win—”

“You die.”

“That’s right.”

Rufus thought for a moment. “But, what if my army had the cybernetic armor, and we went around spreading information about its fatal defect, but the information was false and the armor was sound. Then your troops would waste their efforts trying to incapacitate mine, and they’d be caught off-guard and even easier to deal with. Then I’d win.”

The silver-haired boy nodded approvingly again. “Counterintelligence. Excellent. You’re already thinking like a warrior.”

“Since you are a warrior, by trade, may I ask your opinion on something?” Rufus asked, in a more respectful tone than he’d been using, heretofore. “Do you think that…having an escape route from a fortified location is cowardly?”

“Only if you consider strategic withdrawal cowardly, which it isn’t,” Sephiroth answered, without hesitation. “Dying because you refuse to acknowledge you’ve lost ground isn’t honorable or brave, it’s foolish.”

“That’s what I think,” Rufus said, leaning forward eagerly. “All the great generals in history have used strategic withdrawal as a battlefield tactic, and no one calls them cowards.”

Silver eyebrows went up. “You like history?”

He looked down at his hands and shrugged. “It’s…useful. To know what people did before and whether it worked. Advancement is built on accumulated knowledge.”

“They say that is what sets humanity apart from the animals.”

“Mn,” Rufus nodded. “Look, I…I’m sorry I called you ignorant, before. My father always says that soldiers are nothing but illiterate grunts, only useful as fuel for the war machine. But that’s not the way you are, at all.”

Sephiroth crossed his arms on his broad chest. “I’m a different kind of soldier than he means, but there are plenty of intelligent and honorable men, who are regular troopers. No human being should be thought of as fuel for a machine. They are, after all, the men that make up your ever so vital manpower.”

Rufus opened his mouth to reply, but several things happened at once. There was a faint whistling sound, and the silver-haired boy’s green pupils contracted to slits. Then something hit Rufus like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of him.

At the same moment, the car was struck by something metallic and heavy, and there was an explosion of crackling, blue electricity, that knocked the car’s systems offline, including its shield, and made the hair stand up all over Rufus’ body. With the electronics dead, the driver lost control, and the vehicle spun out and began to roll.

All this happened in a split second, and Rufus had barely had time to realize the object on top of him was the silver-haired boy, when Sephiroth grabbed him around the waist, and with a blinding burst of momentum, rocketed them out the window, smashing right through the glass, just before the vehicle tumbled onto that side.

A missile screamed through the air and slammed into the exposed undercarriage of the now unshielded vehicle, flipping it all the way upside-down. Rufus felt the heat on his face, as it exploded in a gigantic ball of flames, with a noise like a sonic boom, that made his ears ring.

Sephiroth landed on his feet, thirty meters away and set Rufus down. The EMP and the missile had come from attack choppers—two of them. The rest of the Shinra convoy had been struck, too, and was in chaos and flames all over the highway. A swarm of green-camo painted, armored vehicles came roaring up, cutting off any escape, from both sides.

“Get behind me!” Sephiroth barked, as his long, silver blade flashed out.

Rufus ducked obediently behind him, but he knew there was no point. There was a missile coming right at them. There was no way evade it. It would vaporize them both, whether he was behind his bodyguard or not.

He clenched his teeth in anger and unwillingness. This was not how he’d imagined his last three seconds on this planet—gunned down like a dog by his father’s enemies, a fifteen-year-old virgin, who had never accomplished anything worthwhile in his short life.

Screw that, if he was going to die, he’d look what killed him in the face. He lifted his head, just in time to see a flash of silver, and the twin vapor trails of the missile, which appeared to have been split into two parts, as they went careening wildly into the concrete pylons behind them.

What the hell had happened? Was the missile defective? I couldn’t have been what it looked like, because what it looked like, was that his bodyguard had sliced it in half with a sword. Which was not possible.

Apparently, that had been their last missile, having used them up attacking the convoy. The helicopter’s mini-gun engaged, instead, spraying the area with bullets, which the silver-haired boy was…well, he was deflecting them with his sword.

There was no other way to describe it, because that’s what was happening. The blade was moving faster than sight, sparking where they hit, with a strange, staccato clinking, like hail on a glass window.

The other chopper quit harassing the surviving security personnel and barreled toward them, to join the first in pelting the targets with gunfire.

Sephiroth growled with frustration. He could deal with them on his own, but not simultaneously, and if he left Rufus unguarded to take out one, the other would cut him down in an instant. There was only one way he got out of this with the President’s son alive, and it would require perfect timing.

That opportune moment occurred, when the first chopper’s minigun overheated, and had to cool for a few seconds. Right then, Sephiroth launched his sword, like a thin, silver javelin, at the other, directly puncturing its windscreen, frightening the pilot into veering away, for long enough to grab Rufus, and make a sprint for the overpass bridge.

Both choppers recovered and a fusillade of hot lead chased his preternaturally swift steps, but it was too late. Bullets peppered the concrete barrier, throwing sprays of grey dust into the air, as the silver-haired boy leapt over the edge, with the President’s son in his arms.

Partially obstructed by the overpass bridge, the two plummeted toward the undercity and certain death. They were falling too fast for the gunners to sight them, but it would’ve been perfunctory, anyway. There was no surviving a drop from one of the plates.

Wind battered Rufus in the face and tore at his hair as they approached terminal velocity, and kept falling. They fell for so long, he ran out of breath screaming and had to pause to inhale, before he started again.

This fucking psycho bodyguard! Now, rather than getting shredded by bullets, he was going to be splattered all over some filthy, undercity junkyard. Perfect. His father probably wouldn’t even send people to collect his body!

He clung tightly to Sephiroth, from sheer reflex, as the ground rushed toward them, bracing himself for impact.

Impact that…never came. Instead, Rufus felt the bizarre sensation of weightlessness, as their fall suddenly slowed, in defiance of logic and reason and science. They look the last couple of meters at a gentle drift, and Sephiroth’s black boots touched lightly down in gravelly dirt.

He set Rufus on his feet, steadying him as he wobbled. “Young master, are you alright? Are you injured?”

Rufus attempted to stop his voice shaking, but found he couldn’t. “I…I don’t think so. How are we…alive?”

“Well, I evaded the gunships by leaping off—ah, you mean the fall. I have a mastered slow-time materia.”

“O—oh,” was all Rufus could say. The other boy was obviously lying, but he didn’t have the bandwidth to care why.

Sephiroth looked appropriately contrite. “I apologize for frightening you, young master, but it was the only option I had, at the moment. I would have dealt with the assailants, had it just been me, but protecting you is my primary objective.”

“I understand. You did well. So…where are we?” Rufus asked, looking around dazedly, at the mountains of piled debris, nearly as high as skyscrapers. And far, far above that, the titanic plates that made up the vast overcity of Midgar. He had never seen them from below, before.

“We didn’t drift much, so approximately…right below where we fell. Which puts us close to the Sector 7 slums. Those choppers will be along shortly, to sweep the area for our remains. We’d better get under cover quickly.”

It took less than a minute for Sephiroth to find a partially collapsed section of antediluvian aqueduct pipe, which was twice as tall as he was, and had room enough to park a vehicle, to say nothing of sheltering the two boys.

Once inside, he cast some kind of gravity spell, and drew a pile of debris over the opening, to conceal it. Just then, the thrum of helicopter rotors became faintly audible in the distance.

Rufus felt a shiver up his spine, and the irrational urge to crouch down, despite already being under cover. There was enough sunlight filtering in through the piled scrap and rust holes in the old pipe, so that he could see fairly well, which made him feel far too visible.

“What are we going to do if they find us?” he whispered to Sephiroth.

“They won’t,” Sephiroth answered, at normal speaking volume. “They’re only going to do visual recon, for due diligence. They’re confident that we’re dead.”

Sure enough, the roar of the choppers grew louder and louder, till they could see the sun glinting off their black hulls, directly overhead. But just as Sephiroth said, they passed over the area a few times, and then flew away, their ominous thunder fading gradually into the distance.

“Here, take these.”

Rufus looked down to see that Sephiroth had produced a bottle of water and a dry-ration packet from a storage materia somewhere about his person, and was holding them out to him.

“No, thank you,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not—”

“Young master, I insist you take them,” Sephiroth interrupted firmly. “You may be in shock, and depriving your body of calories and hydration at this time could make you very ill.”

Rufus accepted the things, with a disconsolate huff. He was about to unscrew the lid of the bottle, when Sephiroth took him by the shoulders and looked gravely into his face.

“Listen carefully, because I only have time to say this once. My phone was destroyed by the EMP, as I can imagine yours was, as well. We are far from help, with no means of contacting anyone, for the moment. Do not leave this hiding place, and do not move that debris, no matter what. There are all kinds of monsters out here, in the scrap wastes. If I am not conscious by sunset, take my sidearm and run north, till you get to the dirt road. It’ll take you to the slums, due east of here. Do not tell anyone who you are. Just find someone with a phone and call for help. Whatever you do, you must get out of the waste before nightfall. Understood?”

“Wait, what the hell do you mean, if you’re not conscious?” Rufus demanded. “Are you planning to take a nap?”

It was only then that he observed the other boy’s face was deathly pale. Then he noticed the bullet holes in his black pullover and leather coat. And then the blood pooling at his feet.

“Sephiroth! You—you’re hurt!” he exclaimed, in horror. “Why didn’t you tell me? What do I do? How do I help?”

“The primary objective is your safety. Do exactly as I’ve said. Do not worry about me, I’ll be…I’ll be fine…”

As he spoke those last words, Sephiroth’s voice dissolved into a slurred murmur. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched over. Rufus grabbed for him to catch him, but the boy was over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds. Resultingly, smaller, slighter Rufus only wound up getting dragged down on top of him.

He scrambled off, in a panic, not wanting to make the injuries worse, and knelt beside his bodyguard. His own white blazer and sweater were splotched all over with crimson, which would have made his skin crawl at any other time, but he couldn’t bother about uncleanliness, at the moment.

Frantically, he searched Sephiroth’s pockets for a healing materia, but only found that storage materia. There was nothing in it but more water and rations, and a field kit for dressing minor injuries, which he had no idea how to use, anyway.

Ok, think! He’d heard somewhere that you put pressure on deep wounds, to stop them bleeding. Forcing himself past his bone-deep aversion to touching bodily fluids, he pressed down on the most central holes, as hard as he could, while blood sponged up through Sephiroth’s black pullover and soaked his hands. But it was in vain. Sephiroth had serious wounds in more places than Rufus had hands to press on them.

Close to panicking, Rufus tried to check for a pulse, but had no idea how to do that, and couldn’t tell if his failure to find one meant he was incompetent, or that there wasn’t one to be found. Sephiroth’s face was paper-white, now, and his chest had stopped moving. He wasn’t breathing.

“Sephiroth! Sephiroth! No, no, no!” Rufus sobbed, yanking on the lapels of the other boy’s bullet-torn leather coat, as if he could shake him back to life. “Th—that’s an order, SOLDIER! Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to die! You have to protect me, so you can’t die! Sephiroth!! Please, don’t die! Please…please.”

Weighed down by despair, he curled over, pressing his forehead to Sephiroth’s chest, sobbing like a baby, over the body of the boy his own age, who had saved him, at the cost of his own life.

Men were killed in action all the time. It was just a collateral cost of warfare. He knew this, and had never felt anything one way or another, about it. But seeing it happen, before his eyes, especially to such an obviously special and worthwhile person, felt completely different.

It was real. It was personal. It was wrong and horrible and tragic and sickening. And it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair! This one belonged to him! Fate had no right to take him away!

Buoyed up by righteous anger, he forced himself to swallow the bottle of water, like Sephiroth told him, but couldn’t even make himself think about eating the dry ration. He was sick to his stomach and his hands were covered in sticky, drying blood.

While he was using the rest of his water bottle to try to rinse his hands, he realized that there was less blood on the ground than he'd expected. Only his watery spatters, and the puddle that had been at Sephiroth’s feet when he fell. If he’d stopped bleeding that quickly…then it must be because his heart had stopped. Which meant he was really dead.

Flatly refusing to accept this, Rufus sat cross-legged beside him, clinging to his gloved hand. Sometimes whispering prayers to the goddess to bring him back, but mostly in silent grief. He never believed the gods had any power to help people, and they were little comfort to him, now.

Only when the sun sank below the unseen horizon, far away, and it began to get really dark, in their tiny hideout, did he move. Heavily and reluctantly, he got up and strapped on Sephiroth’s sidearm, preparing himself to make a run for the dirt road, and hopefully the relative safety of the slums, where there were a lot of people keeping the monsters away.

There were no more excuses to linger. He was as ready as he was going to get, and it was now or never. Rufus knelt down beside his erstwhile bodyguard, to say goodbye.

“I won’t leave you here,” he said, gently brushing his silver hair out of his face. “I’ll bring people back to get you, as soon as I find some kind of civilization. I—I’m sorry you died for me. I’m so sorry. I know I act like I think I’m royalty, but…it’s all a façade. I’m completely worthless, compared to you. You deserved to live. If I could trade places with you, I would. In a heartbeat.”

In the deep blue of twilight, the boy’s face was painfully beautiful. Overcome with emotion, Rufus leaned down and pressed his lips to Sephiroth’s. A single, soft kiss, to ease the ache of meeting once and parting forever. His tears splashed onto the waxen face.

“I’ll never forget you, Sephiroth,” he whispered, against his cold, pale lips.

When he drew back, a pair of brilliant-green eyes with catlike slit pupils were looking directly into his. He gave a shout and jumped back, falling flat in the loose rubble, then immediately scrambling back up, to grab hold of the boy’s hand.

“Sephiroth! You’re alive!” His heart was pounding like a war drum, from the sudden jolt, but he couldn’t contain his elation. “You were dead! You bled so much and I couldn’t find your pulse and you weren’t breathing! But you’re alive now! You’re alive!!”

“I wasn’t dead,” Sephiroth said faintly. “I was only…regenerating. I tried to explain.”

“You sound weak. No, no, let me help you sit up. Good, just lean on me. I’ll get you some water.”

Rufus retrieved another bottle of water from the storage materia and sat with his arm around Sephiroth, watching attentively while he slowly sipped it.

“I heard your voice, in the dark, calling me back,” Sephiroth said, after he’d drained the contents of the bottle. “I thought I dreamed it. But then I woke up, and you were holding my hand. Talking to me. I was going to tell you that you’re not worthless, and it was both my duty and honor to die for you. But…you kissed me, and I didn’t have a chance.”

Rufus blushed like an apple, but the deep shade of twilight concealed it. “I…uh. I’m sorry. It was just that—” He frowned suddenly and touched his lips. “Did I…bring you back with a kiss? Like a prince in a fairy tale? No, of course not. That’s stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Sephiroth said, squeezing his hand. “The lifestream runs through all of us. Maybe you gave me some of yours, and it made me stronger. Helped me wake up faster.”

Rufus swallowed hard. “You’re still really weak, though. We could…we could try it again. Just to see if it helps.”

“Right. To…prove the hypothesis,” Sephiroth agreed.

“Hypothesis,” Rufus murmured, wide-eyed and suddenly trembling with nervousness, as they leaned in, so close that he could feel Sephiroth’s warm breath on his cheek.

Their lips brushed together, timidly at first, then pressing more eagerly. Rufus let his eyes fall closed and his mouth open, tongue sliding forward to caress Sephiroth’s.

His heart pounded in his ears, and his stomach did flips like he was on a roller coaster. His first kiss! Er—well, his first real kiss! It was clumsy and faltering, and neither had any idea what they were doing, but it was also perfect and wonderful and everything he’d ever imagined. He finally understood what all the fuss was about.

When they drew apart, they were both breathless and flushed with heat, lips wet and kiss-bruised. Rufus still had his arm around Sephiroth’s waist, and Sephiroth had wrapped one of his around Rufus, as well.

“Sorry if that was weird. I…I never kissed anyone before,” Sephiroth said, shyly lowering his eyes.

“Neither have I,” Rufus admitted. “It was a little weird, because I always thought my first kiss would be with a girl. But…I’m glad it was you.”

The green cat-eyes came up again, to look into his, slit pupils dilating slowly. “You are?”

Rufus nodded. “Mn. I like you, and you're really handsome. You also saved my life, so we have strong emotional context. Also, you work for my father, and we both know a relationship would never be possible, between us, so there’s no danger of getting too attached, and things becoming messy and complicated later. It can just be what it is.”

The slit pupils contracted again and Sephiroth seemed to freeze for a millisecond, but he smiled, what appeared to be a soft, placid smile. “Yes. It can just be what it is. We should go, now. The sooner I get you home safe and sound, the better.”

So saying, he hopped up and pulled Rufus to his feet, accepting back his sidearm and materia. When they were ready, he waved his hand, and all the piled up junk covering the entrance to their pipe was blown off, like a pressurized lid. Then they stepped out of their shelter into the labyrinthine canyon of rust and dry-rot and assorted garbage.

Sephiroth took Rufus by the hand and helped him navigate the small slope, upon which debris was loosely packed and especially treacherous in the dark. Rufus intended to keep holding hands, even after they’d got down, but Sephiroth firmly withdrew his from the other boy’s grasp.

“No need to be afraid, young master,” he said, in a tone of calm reassurance. “I’m here to protect you. Nothing can harm you, while I’m with you.”

Rufus nodded and followed after him.

As they picked their way through the debris, his blonde brows knit together, in thought. He should be happy, to have such a strong and valiant protector, who would suffer serious injury for him, and even let Rufus kiss him, all while remaining composed and professional, and taking such care in looking after him.

But…he couldn’t shake the vague feeling that he’d somehow lost something precious. And now that it was gone, it was gone forever.

#ask games #fanfic asks #mini fic asks #rufus shinra #sephiroth #sephiroth x rufus #rufus x sephiroth #rufiroth?#sephirus?#sephirufus?#ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ff7 rebirth #ff7r #final fantasy vii #ff7 remake

17 notes · View notes

moistvonlipwig · 6 months ago

Note

supercorp 1 8 9 16 20

right on 🫡

What is my absolute favorite of their scenes and why do I love it so much?

Oh I don't know...there are many good classic scenes. For the sake of spicing it up I'll talk about a moment that I don't often see people discuss and that is actually from an episode that I otherwise don't really like, namely: the scene in 5x19 where Kara is on the ground with kryptonite coursing through her veins and then Lena's anti-kryptonite device flies in and attaches itself to her suit and before it's even started working, Kara smiles and laughs. Just...the fact that Kara is in (if we are to believe her assessment in S3) incredible pain and that doesn't even matter to her because Lena's on her side again. I think that's a really sweet moment and it captures a lot of what I wish S5 & S6 had been about for them lol.

8. Am I most interested in fics about them that focus on fluff, angst, humor, smut or actual plot?

Angst, humor, & plot are all good with me. Fluff & smut tend to bore me.

9. What is my ideal endgame for them?

Hm, I could envision several good endgames for them (none of which include Lena being a witch or Kara becoming editor-in-chief or revealing herself to the world lol). I think ideally Kara would eventually become known as Superwoman and maybe would become more of an independent freelance journalist, while Lena would run the Lena Luthor Foundation which presumably funds Good Things. Lena would keep kryptonite on hand in a secret vault in case of emergency and Kara would be cool with it, and Lena would also design all kinds of suits & accessories for Kara (sorry Brainy but your Supergirl suit design was not very good). I like the idea of Kara having a longer, more stately cape especially as she grows older and more confident.

I do think they'd both want to get married, probably in a Kryptonian or Kryptonian-inspired ceremony. I think they should get a cat or a dog or both. I like lena-in-a-red-dress's fic where Lena adopts Dex-Starr the Red Lantern cat so let's say their cat is Dex-Starr. And their dog can be Rex from sango-blep's comics. Rex is cute.

I like the idea of them having kids, though I also think they'd be OK without them. If they did have kids I think the kids would be Luthors, not Danverses or Luthor-Danverses. They would also probably be created via birthing matrix or a similar technology invented by Lena because I can't imagine either Kara or Lena wanting to get pregnant lol. I like Leo Alexander as a name for a boy. I'm less sure about names for girls (maybe Sasha? Elizabeth? Linda?) but I don't like Lori, I know that's popular because of an old comic where Lena has a daughter named Lori but I am not a fan.

16. What are three of my fic recs for this ship? And (in the event that I’ve written something for them) one of my fics involving them that I’m most proud of?

Catfishy Business by whythinktoomuch is an iconic and deeply funny fic.

lena dies on a wednesday by karalovesallthegirls is a GREAT time loop fic that ingeniously puts us in the shoes of someone who doesn't know they're in a time loop. I think you've said you've read it? Still, it bears re-reading.

There are so many other great fics I could rec but I'll rec one that is a little bit lesser-known, since I've already named two very well-known fics. Which is and darling (is there a cure for this hunger?) by m_oliverfan, aka There Are Consequences To Sending Nyxly To Eternal Torment Land, Actually.

I've only finished one fic for SC so far which is laid in thine enemy's grave? - in truth, i dig it, which I believe you've also read. ^_^

20. How and when should they have gotten together?

I think in a better S5 where they started talking to each other sooner -- end of 5x13 would've been a good time -- and had some time to work through some stuff, I could see an end-of-S5 confession or kiss working. In terms of the actual show, which was never very good at writing romance, I think a Korrasami-style 'they end up together or are implied to end up together as part of Kara finding herself' would've charmed me.

#me? saying something positive about 5x19? it's more likely than you think #sideguitars #up up and away #duck's impeccable fic recs

13 notes · View notes

septembersmonologue · 9 days ago

Text

i have such a frustration with the way that internet dunk on em style of arguing has basically neutered the left and invigorated the right. obviously the right thrives on a style of discourse that decides the winner by who’s the funniest/meanest/most ironic, but on the left it’s resulted in complete inability to defend itself

half the people i know who consider themselves fucking communist or feminist or anything have no idea why they believe what they believe!!! it’s all they can do not to get taken in by tiktok videos on the divine feminine or aggressive tumblr posts because they don’t know their own beliefs, much less the beliefs of their opponents!! the average leftist isn’t capable of convincing people of shit because their comprehension of politics is based on slogans that were written to pull people into movements, not comprise the entirety of a school of thought

and they’re completely unfamiliar with today’s rwers because we spent a decade telling people dni thine enemy! people are still so dedicated to trying to point out holes in rw belief when consistency doesn’t matter to them at all; they’re perfectly comfortable with ideological inconsistency in a way i really wish the left could become tbh (instead of constantly infighting because different factions have different priorities). every right winger has their own (insane delusional alternate) reality because it’s an individualist movement. criticizing “your movement” when speaking directly to a rightoid is like, the number one way to get them to dismiss everything else you say because you’re not engaging with their specific words and they’re going to write you off as generalizing and unfamiliar with their own personal political stance

this got long but yeah. dunk on em debate club is never gonna do shit for us and unfortunately as with anything earnestness will b our salvation 🏀🆙🔝

#not funny. didn’t laugh.

3 notes · View notes

quornesha · 1 month ago

Text

Cloudless Sulphur Butterfly Prophecy And Symbolism

The Following Channel is from higher powers, Divine, the ancestral plane and is prophetic through Quornesha S. Lemon|

Whether the Cloudless Sulphur Butterfly appears in dreams, visions, waking life or synchronicities, it is a sign and message that the migration into your promised land has commenced. No one can hijack a ride into what’s yours. Ending Kairos and entering into Jubilee and divine justice. Ending warfare and entering into rest. Celebrate. I heard no more robbing peter to pay Paul. No more apparition against you. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen. Wealth transfer. Dynamic eagle. This new season will be dynamite for you and your family. You will join a new family. No one can replace you. Make a bucket list. God will surely lengthen that list over time. There have been a lot of jezebel spirits trying to hate on you.

Wishing they were in your place. But neither of them can take what's yours. Divine will put them in the same trouble you had to go through to get where you've achieved. Their tongues will experience plagues. Your dreams are manifesting. And you'll see more dreams. Prophetic. Your face will be on/in magazines. There’s no competitive or petty people in the promised land but a coming together and abundantly overflowing energy. It’s blissful. A heaven on earth. The Cloudless Sulphur is a prophecy for you to get ready for business(es) to thrive and employ many people and usher in divine justice that has been long overdue. No more elite groups. An end has come and a new order has taken place. A righteouse dvine order. Where prosperity is easy and wealth obtainable. You’ll never have to worry about homelessnes, poverty, fatal sickness, threat/harm/danger, no evil can come near you.

The Enemy wants you to quit, but turn to them and tell them, take shelter, I am coming in like a storm. You know divine/God personally and your enemies are his enemies. Mother God/Divine supports you. You are not darkness you have authority over it. There’s a difference. The Cloudless Sulphur is a prophecy that the storm is over for the chosen ones. The times in the Kairo season is over and the Divine both he and she are proud of you. They want you to know, that the end has come for every enemy. They don’t have to take your name off of their altars, nor keep their name out of your mouth. Your aura glows differently and the enemy can never be you. So God is destroying every home, altar, temple, closet, fasting prayer group that has come against you. They will come out naked, confused, and dismantled as nature has been issued the approval to attack and undermine the enmies plans. The divine says he’s thinking of sending in a huge hurricane. This one, unprecedented. This one, will set the enemy back a decade. It’s not so fun now, attacking a chosen one .

You’re under heavy protection now. You’re surrounded by the fiery wall of protection. There’s still work to do in the promised land. People need stimulation constantly and the divine is sending them to you. Your heart is pure. Your soul leads the way for people. And you’re about to become very rich, successful, married, elevated and approved all at once. The Divine is covering you on every side. Your enemies are setting themselves up to be located by the wrath of the divine with your name in their mouths. And the energy syphoning, the same demons that you overcame are on your side and will contend with them and the tests you overcame will overtake the enemy and destruction will be on every side until they loose you and even if they don’t they’re digging their own grave.

You’re walking on the shoulders of 10,000 ancestors and angels and counting. You have nothing to fear. You have a lot of work to do in this lifetime, so, thus said the Divine, NOTHING, NO ONE, NO ENTITY, can ever take you out prematurely. You are deaths’ companion, and attacks against you places the enemies’ names on deaths’ list. They dug one ditch for you, but two are being dug for them. It’s not so fun now, coming up against you. Now they have to pick up the pieces. The key of the bone yard are gifted to you. Power over the heavens, given to you. Power over the hospitals and death beds, given to you. Power in the spirit given to you. You’ll rebuke demons and they will flee from you and those you help. Keep going servant God is well pleased with you. Don’t give up on you. Don’t give in, carry on. Wherever you’ve been chained up in this lifetime, you’re being loosed right now. Your clarity in the spirit is needed before kings, and you will be seated amongst and known, as Royalty yourself. The Cloudless Sulphur Butterfly is a promise that a new day dawns and symbolizes the promises of God/Divine performing in your life. Greater horizons are coming in, and you cannot be stopped. The sword of humility is with you.

This message isn't, obviously resonant with all whose paths it crosses, as perhaps you may encounter someone of this vernacular, mastery or skill. Therefore, it is a sign from the universe that you're meant to work with such a person.

Need further clarity or your own queries answered? Book your own reading as my schedule is full and I do not guarantee a reply on social media regarding this post.

If this is not you, then it is time to get clear to rejoin your tribe or the rest of the world of infinite beings. It's time to bring your light to the forefront. However, if you aren't able to invoke, heal or otherwise on your own, call on the assistance of shamans, healers, intuitive people, etc. to assist you. This synchronicity can possibly have specific meanings for you, it's time to get insight.

The Gift that Quornesha Has can never be duplicated, She is a Shaman, Writer, Healer, And Teacher with incredible prophetic/healing gifts. Please do not infringe upon her rights as the author. You are not permitted to reuse, nor are you to sale as you wish. This information has been made available to you for the purpose of introduction and demonstration. All rights reserved. If you'd like to use this in a magazine, online publication, or other, please ask for permission first. Legal actions will be taken if you proceed to impose. Be blessed, bless others and be at peace on your journey. What you do is coming back on you. Make sure that it is good, and all is well within you, through you and around you. The source sees all and knows what you think it does not. Image Credit

3 notes · View notes

azygist · 9 months ago

Text

12/05/2024 01:27

My Beloved,

I find myself living in the orbit of your life, as if I'm possessed by the ghost of your presence. It has been that way ever since the day I've learned of your existence. Each sunrise bears the hue of tangerine and every sunset tinged with vermilion. What I mean by that is I find every day sensational because I get to live a day having loved you. I want your dreams carved on my bones. I've become my own enemy in wanting to live for you because I simply have never wanted to be alive ever since I was 15.

I wish you had met me when I was still unbroken and unaware of heartlessness. Like the forest untouched by the fire. Like the world before its very first war. A poet before her first heartbreak. It just isn't fair, you know? I was once so beautiful. You should have beheld my novelty. You should have seen me dancing to the jingles of my hopes and whims and dreams and everything in between. I was such a majestic scene. Now I'm just a monument turned monstrosity. And if we are so alike, I am what may become of you if you are ever ruined.

You keep telling me I see daggers in kitchen knives. You see, in my house, there were no knives to begin with. I have blood for breakfast and betrayal for dinner. I am a butcher with a saber starving for chaos.

But I love, I love, I love you so. And it is absolutely not because we are exactly alike. When people are alike, they become friends. And you do not make my misery less miserable either. You are not the gold that fills my crease. I'm still stained and life is still unbearable. But, loving you has outweighed all the bruises bestowed upon me by life, although you give me bruises all the same. I love you with all the ugliness I possess in my heart.

I have vested my everything in your fingertips. I've let my girlhood be colored by your embrace. All the reds, and blues, and greys, and maroons. My fervor, my flesh, my exposure and the rest. There is nothing left except for my everlasting grief which I always try to keep afar from you. Because I think it's crucial for us humans to reserve our softness for the ones we love, even if cruelty is the only remnant in our disposition. And you are the only subject of my tenderness.

Darling, what comes after love is not hatred, it is indifference. And I will die the death of a thousand agonies if your affections for me were ever to change from being your Caribbean to being the object of your desertion. You have more than consumed me. You are both my salvation and sin. You are both my black and white. We'll either have a home together or a gravestone of half-lived fantasy of true love. And it will either be my first kill or my execution.

Amaran Thine,

Azazel

#muse #longing #love letters #letters #confession #i love you #Spotify

4 notes · View notes

deathsmallcaps · 2 years ago

Text

Just something I’m writing, it’s very very first draft. Not looking for feedback until I actually finish the first draft

Once, upon a time, there was the knight family Rowland. Being friends of Merlin before he passesd, they made powerful enemies, one being a fae king, who wish to become a father.

The prince had long ago lost his wife. Despite his best efforts afterward, and many willing participants, purely Fae couples were rarely fruitful, and most human women knew better than to court the Fae by the time Christianity reached the British Isles. As such he had sired none, and would Fae couple that had children with fight heaven and earth, rather than give up their children. Anyone who were somehow orphaned, went straight to the next of kin. So he had to resort to other means, when it became immediately necessary that an heir appeared.

When the father Rowland, trapped in slew the Ixrunian king and queen, and announced his name in a victorious scream, the prince – turned – new – king saw an opportunity. Fae magic cannot be direct nor placed without cause – enchantments may be laid upon weapons, healing spells infused with potions, and curses must have specific conditions. And here was a good chance for in an advantageous faegild.

So when the king merely said,

“Not thou, but thine children-kin,

Take thrice a Widdershins spin, about thine holy father’s house,

mine attention they shall rouse. Possession, thine child I win,

And in tears thine heart will souse.”

The father took it as a stroke of luck – all he needed to do was stop his children from going around the church counter clockwise? Not a bad deal as far as Fae curses went.

Of course, that was when his daughter, youngest of four, finished her third lap around the church.

The king, grinning toothily at the poorly timed relief on the human’s face disappeared, and grabbed the child just before she fell into the sudden in crack in the earth that led to Faerie.

Being unable to open the doorway, and not knowing of any of the various caves that also lead to Faerie, the father sent his sons in after her. Confidently, he sent Alric. Sorrowfully he sent Bertram. And though he disallowed the boy, Childe, he snuck out and followed soon after.

Buy some stroke of luck, Childe manage to rescue his brothers and sister, and they made it back to the human world.

The family took many pains to avoid making the same mistake, for they knew not if the cursed still stood.

But as with most things, the story was partially forgotten, and the rest passed into legend. If someone pointed out to a Roland, for the line persisted across the world, that their name matched that of a famous epic, they at most chuckled and moved on. Only by sheer luck did none pass counter-clockwise about a church for many centuries.

Until one did.

And Ek knew none of this.

——

It started out a nice day for Ek. There was only one idiot on the road to his summer job today, and he passed through the metal detector without issue (yesterday he forgot to take his belt buckle off).

This was what his friends called, “a layup job” - it was relatively easy, until it wasn’t. He manned the ‘Lost Families’ yard at the waterpark. Very few children or parents approached him, and the security guards only bought a child over if the parent proved difficult to find, and they had other issues to attend to. Mostly, he copied descriptions of the missing persons from the walkie-talkie, and kept an eye out for them, and between reading the book he brought, or writing, or drawing.

If a child did come, his job was to keep them safe and busy until the parent was found. But they were only stayed for long. His record for the summer was six kids out of 20 lost in a day being brought over.

Basically, he worked 11 to 7, and was mostly bored. He was pretty sure his job existed mostly for insurance purposes.

Sitting at a picnic table all day was hard work, so Ed regularly got up and stretched. He got a few stares from the dining area that was nearby. He supposed a random employee standing in a roped off yard not doing much was entertaining – but it was necessary.

His doctor had recommended not working or doing only light work in an air-conditioned area from the weeks after top surgery, so Ed figured this was sort of fell under the recommended activity. He was paid well and stayed out of the sun, so could he really complain? (Maybe a little bit. The surgery had been expensive.)

But in any case, he was doing light stretches to make sure his scars didn’t get stiff, when he noticed a toddler running around unattended.

The little girl couldn’t have been more than 1 1/2, and she was having a grand old time, the soft, dark waves of her ponytail bouncing as she chased a butterfly around the multi denominational prayer pavilion, which the park also had for an insurance purposes. Sometimes it was used as a rain shelter.

As far as Ed knew, it wasn’t time for prayer for any religion yet, and the pavilion was empty. ‘This kid is definitely lost.‘ He thought, a little grumpy but mostly worried. He grabbed his walkie-talkie and made his way over.

The little girl took no notice of Ek, and he was not legally permitted to touch her, besides holding her hand, so he called out to her, “Hey little one, are you OK? Where are your parents?”

She tossed a glance at him, as if she knew some of those words, but they were ultimately meaningless. She kept running.

He studied her for a moment. The girl looked like she was maybe Lao like him, probably mixed or something. She had a white cotton string around her wrist - a good sign she was Lao - so he tried again, and the only other language he knew. It sucked when he got children that didn’t know any of the languages he knew. It was hard to make them feel better. He crossed his fingers.

“Hey little one, are you okay?” He said in Lao, just as she came around the bend.

She stopped! The butterfly stopped too, surprisingly enough.

“Hi! My name is Ek. Do you know where your parents are? He asked, encouraged.

She nodded, and took a step forward when the butterfly fluttered frenetically around her head, now the one to chase her.

“Can you show me where they are?” he reached for her hand.

She nodded again, her dark little eyes looking shyly up at him through those long lashes babies always seem to have. From here, Ed could smell the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo.

She stepped forward, but then shrieked.

Three things happen then, in the space a few seconds, much to add her. First, the butterfly landed on her shoulder.

Second, the butterfly made these horrible crunching and flashy sounds, as it turned from a walnut and cream colored butterfly to a walnut and cream colored hand. Then outgrew an arm, and then a body, and finally a smiling face with a shot of black and white hair, like he belong to an 80s rock band.

Some distant and stupid part of Ek thought, ‘He’s hot!’

Third, the hand that remain on the little girl shoulder pulled her close to the body. The earth opened up behind the two, and they fell in. The Earth closed up behind them.

All that in a couple seconds.

Ek’s first thought was, ‘I am SO fired.’ How could he, the guy in charge of Lost Families, lose a child? Then he realized what he had seen was impossible. And who would believe him? If the parents reported her missing, and they didn’t find her until the end of the day, cameras would show him losing her. And what was the camera show? Him, reaching out to touch their child, their baby – and her disappearing?

He was panicking. ’Who would believe me? Mom would, maybe. Maetu definitely would. She still prays to see and stuff. But –‘

His train of thought broke off. His grandmother would totally believe him! Ek hurried over to his yard, and dialed his grandmother, hoping his boss wouldn’t catch him using his phone.

“Maetu?” he asked as soon as the phone stopped ringing.

Hello? Who is it?“ asked his grandmother, his Maetu, in Lao.

It’s Ek. Your youngest grandson. Sorry to bother you, but –“

“Oh! Ek! I was just talking to your auntie! Did you know that your cousin, Kathy, just got-“

“Maetu,” Ek interrupted, wincing, “It’s an emergency. I need your help.”

He could practically hear Maetu frown through the phone. But she must’ve been in a good mood, or maybe recognized the desperation in his voice, because she merely said, “Oh?”

He explained the situation.

Maetu was silent for a good long moment, then really said, “Let me talk to the Mor Phan.” The shaman. She hung up

Ek panicked some more, digging his nail in to some of his pencils until the paint cracked. When the phone finally rang again, he fumbled, and nearly dropped it in his all his nervousness.

“Maetu! What did the Mor Phan say? Is there anything I can do?“

Clearly irritated, Maetu let him suffer for a moment of silence, but some maternal instinct for the danger of the situation must have won out, for she explained that the Mor Phan suggested that he feed the local phi – perform Liang Phi – and ask for more information, and maybe for a way to save that little girl. “Shaman Sengphet will pray for you and the little girl.“ Her voice softened. “Call me when you’re done with all this. And be safe!” Once again, she hung up first

#original fiction #childe Rowland chantha rasphone

6 notes · View notes

victor-dancer-3 · 20 days ago

Text

This is a letter I wrote in 2020 to a friend’s teenage daughter who was accepted into a prestigious acting and modeling program in NYC and was contemplating leaving her dreams behind for a guy she had met only a month before. I’m posting it here because I don’t know who might benefit from it.

Dear Lisa,

One of the things that I wish I had done when I had the chance was to move to either NY or LA and plunge myself fully into my acting career. I was told by casting people in Philly - who had used me time and again - that I needed to do that. Instead I let myself be sidetracked.

Let me rephrase that. I didn’t get sidetracked... I got fucking scared. Scared that I wasn’t good enough although part of me knew I was. Scared of having to live in my car. Scared of being homeless. Scared of being alone. Scared of being a failure. My own fears defeated me.

Years later I read some advice that Frank Sinatra gave to one of his kids. It kinda went like this.... “Fear is the enemy of logic and success. There is no more debilitating thing to a person or a country than fear. The big lesson in life, baby, is never be afraid of anyone or anything.”

So instead when my back gave out at age 27 and required surgery I gave up my dreams. I told myself I did that for my wife who was an attorney and happy to see me pursuing my dreams. What I told myself was wrong and was bullshit.

In making the decision to allow fear to rule me and to leave that which I had dreamt of I essentially destroyed my marriage and the sales career I put together during my performing arts absence. Those things happened because I wasn’t happy with me. It had nothing to do with the wonderful woman I was married to or the sales career for which I was just going through the motions.

You see, when you don’t go after your dreams they don’t leave you alone. They haunt you.

Shakespeare wrote a great deal of wonderful things. The one which comes to mind here is;

“To thine own self be true”.

All else, if it’s worth it, can wait.

Benny Goodman - who changed popular music in the 1930’s such that many different musical forms - and the music of today as well - grew and came about and evolved because of him. He once said this to a musician friend of his who was asking advice about starting a successful band.

“I don’t know but whatever you do don’t stop. Just keep on going. Because one way or the other, if you want to find reasons why you shouldn’t keep on, you’ll find ‘em. The obstacles are all there; there are a million of ‘em. But if you want to do something, you do it anyway, and handle the obstacles as they come.”

That is a recipe for success in any field. Remember it.

The friend was a fellow by the name of Glenn Miller who went on the have the most popular recording and dance band of the 1940’s. You’ve even heard his music today in movies and at affairs. One song he did in the movies was so popular it won the first gold record award ever given out by RCA Records. It was “Chattanooga Choo-Choo” and yes, it’s on YouTube. (The movie was Sun Valley Serenade)

I can tell you that I regret not taking that chance. Someone wise - def not me - once said,

“The only true regrets in life are for those chances we didn’t take, those things we didn’t do.”

Yes, it’s a cliche but things that are mostly true are the only things which become cliches.

I didn’t take my chance.

Now don’t feel badly for me - I am a pretty happy man nowadays and I do perform about 25 shows monthly. Fact is tho that I still wish I had taken that chance and seen what was down that road for myself.

Take your chance on living the life of your dreams. After all... someone has to do it, so why not you!

It’s odd. I don’t know you well - in fact pretty much only from what your mother has told me about you. I love your mom and you are part of her - as such I also love you and want to see you happy and fulfilled. Recently I turned 64 and have been around the block many times. Believe me when I say this. Loving someone else - truly loving them - is only really possible after you truly love yourself. I want that and the world for you.

Much love and respect

Hugs tight,

Victor

#living your dreams

0 notes

libidomechanica · 2 months ago

Text

Such as calmly as thee and clear: nor do you

Of the spoke not peers so to be. But tearing waves; while thy curl, it is our lot, the art then a row. Without the stony bases of his westering side of the night into simple grumbling eyes wide! Still we must be he I was throng’d

resource for such growth of those small distance follow me, come, and far brought themselves a friends, and thus it is, that sweare that other she knows, but before if east of the should not well tolled breath. But be rich: but kind; why let it boldly—or Thou

hast engross’d: of his rosary, and mother people lotted again. That dignity of course is gone, within! Heaven- like wags new wail my destin’d urn, and in reason did the spongy dawn. And their leave my father she turns but this

smiles encountered, Seven are hard by, made Juan, the common love me the effect to tire no chaunge of a bullet tearing of poets and fro, a disease, but, forgetful; then have no one meaning? Which robe the hill, and caves, their faye.

We questions pause, sigh’d down, and arms are in your questions her doth not left and raged deep deceiving tride, t would weary as it round so many now is square the air waits the font: each villa on the threats, a shipwreck’d her all day from a

darkling watched people together on such odour wine, The act redoubled him, now are peering in bitter thirsty race! The dark how her; to fulfill all peelings of the Breton strangement, then, that terror likewise great, O loue and

the more thy cause, in herself extremely could forgat to death like Atlantic broad golden year, the flocke, go, get your Highness promise she her nation. And thou, poor and me. Great a sun to erase a midnight and Strictest Lesbia, close

beside in amorous care, ’ said his should bid fairer Virtue meet. To-morrow by their cups with despair, half-lapt inflame my ioye shepheard clarion, he passeth by; and I would hue deuoured twenty spring’s natural.—Good Saints to this?

He touch one words. Jasmine, that is— the Lady Blanched in this I know not feel—till that I have loved in ever; quo’ she, which was brought your past midnight. For a skin white, and sweet maid, how wise, how wise, and then it is, the iced stray’d; the sweet

milk and genial vain was I to drink a draught most illustrade, look’d so brave. Me. Such as calmly as thee and clear: nor do you a good deal to each door thorn, they should suit? Forsake, that I speak gentlemen to sulk upon desire than

mine, all our mother’s judgment to his frosted brethren lay; there. Perhaps the blue, silver snow bedbugs? On the green the sum was a truth you all the road. Yon look’d on my head was in a little light of Marses hate that soft showers and

looking comes, like to me! Monsters, and true, a little or the frosty air is keen and enemy to retir’d from heaved, I wish I did she, and see just popped and growing new. And now about going to thine own lute the very side

a thousand hugged and maybe neither on my slick beauty still; and nearer as they made drunk, or emptied some doen, all thy fate were there I see? ’Tis nowe I would we meets the creatures, you must be told about this? But Lilia, rising

up without dreamed, and jet: there robben one to tell? You have knows her poor a plight fairest euer auaile. Of Heaven shouldered genitals, do you off a marble understand; even in watching to heart an eddy from the hall drench. Ocean

stream was arise and high, by Jove, thy lovely length! Against their way, too, its puddle of Lapidoth springs; and twenty though not gives my forte, at all: in vain—affraye, thye neuer had his great god Love and have been; beside the passions

in the drained heat. Of cape; but thence as if I saw what it but now is squalls and losse to me, so dull am, that your good for they St. And light, and fortune has no lady in the while she lies by no meaning. At glaring means can many

wording to the thou affright dungeon strange. That sanguinity it be right see what times each deep. Must that which turns up more tame for home, he doubtful spirit fails to thee the dark heart let thy wave untoward daybreak. Occur in

Oriental plant thus! Only my selfe know, take it in their necks, when I think with silver-white, nor knew, although for they, at leads they employ at news of his Protectionary for ever having me, his soul, we must seemed, or what I

shall respects a maid, but for once, ere Music’s golden see the weanling her form or breath blood might me with thee! Neuer I cast to vary, who keepe the Welkin shore? All the moments cold. Into the drains on this time to speak to your present

abroad statuesque sedateness, nothing of the pavement: so I had in it is no more, the little porringer and four kids will not like the sodger. At all her bed: but etiquette footworn The bedded in the hand.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #130 texts #ballad

0 notes

penmanshipeb · 1 year ago

Text

God has his way of testing us.

📜 What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? And that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? [18] That You should visit him every morning, And test him every moment? - ‭‭Job 7:17-18

In this time of deceit, we are called to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind. In such a case, God "is able to present us faultless before him. . ." Because, God will allow us to be tested in the most unlikeliest ways -- ways we wouldn't even believe to be on guard.

Influence, money, status, power, glory are all things that will cripple a person's judgement, and God will allow these things to be. He will allow such to surface because he knows he "is able to present us faultless before him. . ."

This is a test and wile within both the world AND the Church, and in regards to the Church, it was only one church able to identify this test and pass it, not allowing position, status, money, power, influence to be a factor against their judgement. Meaning, their discernment, perspective, analysis, or point of view of a situation was not corrupted or manipulated. They did not permit such to be a crippling agent unto them. 📜 ‭‭“I know your works, your labor, your patience, and that you cannot bear those who are evil. And you have tested those who say they are apostles and are not, and have found them liars" (Revelation 2:2). God ONLY commends the Church of Ephesus for this.

In both the world and the Church, this partiality is a crippling and unfortunate thing that I have come to just accept, even within the Church given the Laodicean state of the Church . . .

📖 ‭‭You shall not circulate a false report. Do not put your hand with the wicked to be an unrighteous witness. [2] You shall not follow a crowd to do evil; nor shall you testify in a dispute so as to turn aside after many to pervert justice. [3] You shall not show partiality to a poor man in his dispute. [4] “If you meet your enemy’s ox or his donkey going astray, you shall surely bring it back to him again. [5] If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying under its burden, and you would refrain from helping it, you shall surely help him with it. [6] “You shall not pervert the judgment of your poor in his dispute. [7] Keep yourself far from a false matter; do not kill the innocent and righteous. For I will not justify the wicked. [8] And you shall take no bribe, for a bribe blinds the discerning and perverts the words of the righteous. - Exodus 23:1-8

📖 ‭‭Then the devil, taking Him up on a high mountain, showed Him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. [6] And the devil said to Him, “All this authority I will give You, and their glory; for this has been delivered to me, and I give it to whomever I wish. [7] Therefore, if You will worship before me, all will be Yours. - Luke 4:5-7

📖 ‭‭Now he who received seed among the thorns is he who hears the word, and the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful. - Matthew 13:22

📖 ‭‭But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: [4] in whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them. - 2 Corinthians 4:3-4

1 note · View note

laeorinel · 1 year ago

Text

FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 28 - Blunt

Minor Shadowbringers spoiles.

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

"I am going with you."

Samara sighed, her head falling back in frustration as she looked up at the sky. "We have been over this a dozen times, Alisaie. You and the others are staying here. None of you are fit enough to return to the field, much less venture halfway across the world to a warzone."

"And I am saying you are wrong. I am perfectly fit and healthy." Alisaie crossed her arms, tapping a foot impatiently on the floor as she watched Samara load the last of her supplies on the airship heading to Doma.

"And how easily do you tire? How quickly does your aether diminish?" Samara returned to carefully loading up the extra healing supplies Tataru had set aside from the Scion's stock.

"All irrelevant questions if the enemy is routed before that happens."

"If you can defeat them. You realise we are not fighting small units of soldiers but an entire Legion, yes? And unlike Doma and Ala Mhigo, reports are that most of the fighting is done in trenches rather than large fortifications." Gods, how many times had Samara said this exact same thing to Alisaie over the last week. Ten times? Twenty?

"All the more reason you should not go alone. Even if you oppose us taking to the frontlines, we can render aid back at the resistance camps. A few more healers could make a difference." Spoke up Alphinaud, sounding a bit less combative than his twin but equally as stubborn.

"Even you Alphinaud? And here I thought you would be a voice of reason. You would only be useful until you keel over from exhaustion."

"While I understand your concerns, have each of us not proven fit for the task? We have faced far, far worse than Garlean's and walked away alive."

"Says the man who had a literal death wish as part of your grand master plan..." Samara sighed, turning to look at the trio of stubborn Scions. "This has nothing to do with past victories. This has to do with the here and now. None of you are fit to fight a war. Take yourself, G'raha. Your aether may not be as thin as the others, but your body is weak from the time it slumbered away in the Tower."

"That does not mean we cannot help!" protested Alisaie, her foot stomping on the ground for extra emphasis.

"That is exactly what it means. I will be blunt. You will be nothing more than a liability should you follow me. Not just to me but to every soldier in Bozja. They need hardened soldiers, not recovering scholars wanting to be the heroes of the story." Samara hated how cold her words sounded, but if there was one thing she knew, it was war and conflict. She had seen too many lost too soon because of stubbornness.

"What of the rest of you?" Samara muttered, glancing towards Thancred, Y'shtola and Urianger, who stood far behind.

"Tis likely the three of us are of one mind." Said Y'shtola, glancing at her fellow elder Scions. Urianger nodded in return. "We will remain behind and pray for thine safe and swift return." Thancred's gaze lingered on Samara a bit longer before he sighed.

"Indeed. You already know my thoughts on the matter. I know where I want to be, but what I want matters little in this case." Thancred could understand the twin's desire to help, but he was one of the few who at least had some idea of how bad things were in Bozja. "One wrong move could be perilous. You will have a hard enough time watching out for yourself. You can ill afford to be keeping an eye on anyone else."

"We do not need to be watched over! We need to be helping her! How can you claim to care for her and not-" Alisaie paused mid-tirade as she heard Samara yell out in frustration.

"Enough! If the three of you will not listen to reason, I propose a test. You can follow me if you manage to land a single strike on me. However, should I put you in a situation where you would be dead to rights in the field, you are to remain here. Do you accept?"

Her answer came in the form of the three of them taking up their weapons. With a sigh, Samara changed her weapon and armour in a flash of aether, the heavy plate and mail of a warrior changing to a monk's light leather and cloth trappings.

Thancred raised an eyebrow at that. Was she going to fight them close quarters? He knew she was skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but he was also reasonably sure she was out of practice with her monk training. He only ever saw her fight in this style during spars, never in the field. It would also increase the odds of her getting hit...unless that was her reasoning. If the three of them could not land a hit on Samara at her weakest, what hope did they have on the battlefield? A crude way of showing the twins and G'raha Tia how far they had to go to recover fully, but he could hardly say it would not be effective in humbling them.

As Alisaie and G'raha tia prepared the first volley of their spells, Samara charged forward and jumped above the trio before bringing her leg down to the ground; large amounts of aether built up in her lower limbs, increasing her strength to a frightening degree. The ground shattered beneath her foot, earth and stone splintering, scattering the trio in different directions; the dust kicked up, obscuring each of their views. Poor Alphinaud did not even have the time to summon his carbuncle.

Samara shot out from the dust cloud, grabbing Alphinaud by the back of his jacket and forcing him to the ground, the tips of two fingers pointed at a pressure point along his neck.

"Dead," Samara said before her head shot up, letting the boy go and dodging the oncoming barrage of aetheric blades, weaving between each blade as she pinpointed their direction.

As Samara broke through the dust, she saw Alisaie close the distance quickly, striking out with her rapier and trying to find a gap in Samara's defences. Samara dodged and weaved each attack, watching with a neutral expression as Alisaie's strikes grew more sluggish, quicker than the young woman would like. Samara jumped back away from Alisaie, watching the young woman breathe heavily and tilt forward uneasily to try and catch her on the retreat. Shaking her head, Samara could see her worst fears confirmed. Alisaie's stamina was nothing compared to what it was on the first, despite her protests. A prolonged battle would only end in one way. Samara charged towards Alisaie again, dropping low to the ground and sweeping the young woman's legs out from underneath her, catching the rapier as it fell from Alisaie's grip and holding the tip to her throat.

"Dead," Samara said calmly, ignoring the muttered string of curses from the young woman. Setting the rapier down beside its rightful owner, Samara turned back to look for G'raha Tia, the dust finally settling and revealing him standing still across the clearing, his staff replaced by a shining sword and shield.

The Miqo'te took up a defensive stance as he waited for the oncoming attack. He watched Samara take an attacking stance, aether collecting in her fist before she briefly disappeared from sight, moving at a speed that was hard to track. She stopped right in front of him, her fist stopping just an ilm in front of the shield. Even without contact, the speed and force behind the punch was enough to force G'raha to take a handful of steps back, the shield buckling under her strength before eventually dissipating, more dust, dirt and stone being kicked up all around him. He ungracefully fell to the ground, staring up at the warrior with eyes wide. He knew he was not at full strength yet, but he still hoped he could do something against her. If anything, this proved the divide between their power was so vast...

"Dead," Samara said with finality, turning to look around at the trio on the ground, vaguely aware a crowd had gathered to watch the display, a crowd Thancred was now trying to disperse with limited success.

"Rest and recover. Bozja will not be the last war we fight or the hardest." Samara said to the three before she turned towards the waiting airship, departing for the East alone.

#ffxiv fanfiction #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv write 2023

1 note · View note