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pillbug-worm-pillbug · 1 year ago

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Maybe if I write my thoughts out it will be better. Maybe this one large, deep-chested breathe can become my scream into the void which takes this heavy, swollen balloon out of my internal cavity. So here we go. Forgive the dirtiness and filth of it all. I am just trying to be a good human- that is all I have ever done.

If I could see you again, Sparrow, I would do something to entirely destroy my self-respect. Let me explain. I think of seeing you often, although maybe not more often than is normal, given the terrible, untidy ending we made for ourselves. Once every few months, I'd say. Briefly. I usually just imagine what it would be like to run into you at the store in a week or on the street in fifteen years - in both instances I am doing wonderfully, I am gorgeous and molten and loved and desired and you wonder why you ever let me go. In those very brief dreams I have of us once again meeting, I usually hope for you to realise that we could have been great - that I have been great without you anyway. Because I want to realise that too.

But I heard about you yesterday from a friend. You intruded on my mind without my foreknowledge or planning. I am not used to thinking of you outside of my little delusions of grandeur. This friend told me you changed your hairstyle, and I realised when I tried to picture it that I have, strangely, forgotten what you look like. I can't picture your face like I can Tomoe's, can't formulate the shape of your nose or mouth or where your moles and freckles were. I remember the colour of your eyes, as cliche as it sounds, but thats about it. How terrifying. How terrifying that someone I loved so dearly, someone who broke my heart so violently, can slip away into fuzziness after only a few years. And so you're sticking in my head these days.

It has gone past just the desire to have you see my glow-up. If I met you now... I think about doing things I know I would never actually do. Not really, I don't think. There IS no way to meet you, anyhow. I will not scrape through the dregs of our destroyed world looking for one. But the fantasies of what I MIGHT do, of what I secretly WANT to do, they change. And I think that still matters.

I would tell you I'm sorry I was cruel and stupid. I would explain to you as graciously and humbly as I could, with great humility, that I was volatile and aggressive and problematic towards you and Kate because I was in love with you and I just didn't realise. Losing you made me feel horribly unwanted and horribly unstable and horribly, horribly confused, and in that confusion I hurt myself and I hurt you both. And where Kate has forgiven me, you have not. You must have your reasons. But I still remembered the birthday card you made me for my 15th that reads 'I'm ever so happy you were born and I could never stop loving you'. You are perhaps not a very good person now, Sparrow. I hear you've hurt people and you've hurt yourself and you refuse to learn from your mistakes. I like to think I'm not as bad as you might be. So while I know you're objectively not a great person, I don't hate you. I still... A part of my heart is still forever yours. I can live without it, I can grow a new chunk to fill is place, but the piece of my heart that is yours remembers where it came from. It remembers me, and so it's inaccurate to say I stopped loving you entirely, point blank. And so I wonder if those childish words ring true. Can you hate me, as everyone says you do, and still love me as you once promised? To be honest, I don't really care. I'm some way, I'm glad for that - I have realised you and I will never be in love and get married and that is okay. I do fear nobody will ever love me like you did, but then I suppose you didn't really love me all the way. You didn't love me the way I loved you. But it felt like you did. It felt like something I've not known since then and I always fear I never will again. And I don't really have a remedy for that fear other than patience and faith. Those words are comforting enough, so I'll take stock in them.

But at the same time, its not all virtuous. In truth, I don't care if you'll never love me like you did because I don't need you to. But I don't need you to because if I had only one day with you, I could satiate myself with that. I am not as pure a creature as I should be, Sparrow. Are any of us? Probably. Maybe. Perhaps. We humans like to think big, have big grand moral plans for how to be perfect and healthy and squeaky-clean. We aim to be angels but we are only risen apes, filled with filth and sin and failure. When I was 15 I thought I was evil but I was just 15. Now I'm 18 and I think I'm perverted - am I? Or am I just 18?

One day and I'd beg you not to love me like I thought you did back then, but to love me the way I'm now desperate for from anyone. Your body, though it has changed in the years we've been apart, is still yours. Mine will still remember. You are comfortable, familiar, safe. You were once a safe enough place for me to put down a piece of my heart, so even if you've grown volatile and cruel, even if you would spit at me and call me pathetic, the body... the body remembers where the severed parts of it were once laid down to rest, to be warm. I want to have sex with you because I know you, or I knew what you were, and for one night I am capable of forgetting that you're not still like that anymore. I like being degraded so you can say whatever you like and use the sex as a means to try and hurt me. Until this moment I never considered that you might use it to try and hurt yourself, and now I have to think about whether THAT would deter me. Probably. Because I have enough self respect, just about, I think, to not actually do any of it. But god, I can imagine it. I can imagine crawling into your arms like I've arrived tired at the end of the universe, I can imagine you holding me like you couldn't back in quarantine, finally making me feel like I'm worthy of every type of love. You made me feel so worthy. Can you do this for me too? I feel like I'll be better after that, knowing that someone can desire me. But knowing it is still only you, that it has only ever been you, will in reality probably make me worse.

I yearn for what we had sometimes. I wake up with things to tell you. You'd love the new show I'm into and you'd love me loving it and I'd love you loving me love it and it felt so good to be in the love vortex when we were kids. We cannot go back there. Those days are gone and dead. And I can only look forward to someone LIKE you in my future. But Sparrow, I wish for you sometimes. My first love, that's what I call you. In truth, you were not. But you were the first one that hurt. Perhaps I shouldn't measure love by how much it hurts to lose but then again perhaps I should. After all, that is proof you were worth having, that losing you hurt so badly.

I would grovel at your feet, I would do anything. I don't care how evil and messy you get. If I close my eyes for one day, you could be my Sparrow again.

But I will never see you again and this is the only letter I will ever write you, and I'm not going to send it. I don't know your address, after all.

- Written June 18th, 2023.

#poetry #from 'pillbug poems'#for my june-time muse. i keep you here inside my memories like a fool.#changed the names for confidentiality but really really wish i didnt

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antebunny · 3 years ago

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April 25: ribbons

A Swan Maiden Fairy Tale Fusion

Lan Wangji is a huntsman who happens upon a pond in the woods. He sees this epic coat thing made from raven feathers on the banks and goes “wow this is so cool and so pretty i should give it to my brother” and picks it up. Then he sees this guy on the shore and freaks out wondering if he’s dead, but he’s not, he’s just unconscious & naked. So Lan Wangji wraps him up and brings him home, because he’s nice. Then the guy wakes up, introduces himself as “wei ying, courtesy wuxian”, sees the feather cloak and says “nice…cloak you got there”

“it is a gift for my brother”

“ah. Right…when’s ur brother getting here?”

“i will visit him when the snow melts”

“k. Cool. guess im staying here until then”

“can you not go home?”

Wei Wuxian eyes crinkle like he’s sharing a private joke: “Not until the snow melts”

Lan Wangji is a good host and doesn’t know how he feels about this guy just declaring that he’ll live with him for the next several months but…okay.

Lan Wangji finds out very quickly that Wei Wuxian isn’t normal, and it doesn't take him long after that to guess that Wei Wuxian also isn’t entirely human. He’s a very bad houseguest, he just sits, doesn’t know how to cook or anything really, and talks at Lan Wangji while Lan Wangji makes them breakfast. He follows Lan Wangji everywhere he goes with no explanation, just invites himself along. He talks while Lan Wangji is trying to hunt but somehow that doesn’t scare away the game. He flinched the first time Lan Wangji’s arrow found a mark, and insisted on honoring the fallen bird before returning. He passes time whistling and carves himself a flute, they play duets and Lan Wangji finds himself composing something on his guqin in the early morning while Wei Wuxian is still asleep on the floor. Wei Wuxian introduces him to spice, which he hates, but watching Wei Wuxian’s face light up isn’t something he thinks he can ever get tired of.

Wei Wuxian talks a lot about his home and his family, which is apparently a port by a river delta, which is how Lan Wangji learns that Wei Wuxian a very good swimmer, like everyone else there, and that he and his brother are constantly pushing each other in the lake, that he goes out to the pier to drink at night, that he has the best big sister who makes lotus and pork rib soup and stops Wei Wuxian from fighting with his brother, who is an angery smol one but also the best little brother ever (how this is possible, Lan Wangji doesn’t know, it’s clear Wei Wuxian loves his brother even if he spends most of the time making fun of him)

Lan Wangji doesn’t understand why Wei Wuxian can’t return to this home he’s heard so much about, doesn’t know why he found Wei Wuxian abandoned & naked by the side of the pond, but decides that Wei Wuxian is magic and it’s a magic pond, and if his family would leave him in that state, they don’t deserve him. He works up the courage to ask “wei ying. When the snow melts. Stay with me.” and Wei Wuxian is Conflicted bc he likes Lan Wangji and would like to stay but hates that he has to and maybe won’t see his family ever again. In the end all he says is “okay” and Lan Wangji is Very Happy. He also sees Wei Wuxian eyeing the feather cloak often but he already said he’d give it to his brother and doesn’t know how to offer it to Wei Wuxian. But then Wei Wuxian says “guess you’re not giving it to your brother now” which is basically how Lan Wangji thinks Wei Wuxian asks for things so he just nods vaguely.

Wei Wuxian guesses pretty early that Lan Wangji doesn’t know the full extent of what he’s done, and he clearly doesn’t know who Wei Wuxian is, but that’s not surprising. He decides not to tell him, because why would he? On the off-chance that Lan Wangji will just...give it back to him? Wei Wuxian has heard the Swan Maiden tale, he's has seen the worst parts of humanity; he can’t trust that.

It’s been raining a lot recently, which means Lan Wangji has less opportunity to hunt, and it’s harder to hunt after rain. He goes to the nearest town to trade when his supplies get too low (Wei Wuxian comes with obviously) and there the gossip is that some villagers swear up and down that they saw purple lightning (Wei Wuxian isn’t surprised, just sighs and says “of course”) which means that Sandu Shengshou is angry! And that the Lady of Lotus Blossoms, who usually blesses typical goddess things like matchmaking and fertility/childbirth, has 1) stopped and 2) started leaving white lotus blossoms behind, which means that she’s mourning which is sad and terrible! (Wei Wuxian agrees that her being sad is terrible and gets misty-eyed. Lan Wangji wasn’t aware that Wei Wuxian held her in such high regard).

In town, Wei Wuxian gets Lan Wangji better deals, flirts with some girls which makes Lan Wangji sad for unknown reasons, gets harassed by some guys which is how Lan Wangji confirms that Wei Wuxian is not human/magic bc in the dark & rainy night his eyes looked red and his teeth in the moonlight looked too long and too sharp, and no one heard from Wen Chao again. Lan Wangji also buys him clothes

The snow melts. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian set off to visit Lan Xichen. Wei Wuxian isn’t wearing the cloak and Lan Wangji doesn’t understand why? But doesn’t ask because he never does. They get to the lake where Lan Wangji found Wei Wuxian and wait for Lan Xichen to meet them there, meanwhile Wei Wuxian hisses at a peacock and talks to a sparrow (Lan Wangji doesn’t question it. He never does), then Lan Xichen arrives and at the same time purple lightning flashes and a young man descends from the sky dressed in rich purple silks followed by a lady dressed in lavender and rose pink. they’re easily recognizable as Sandu Shengshou, the Lord of the heavenly Lotus Pier, and the Lady of Lotus Blossoms, his sister and the Lady of Lotus Pier. Lan Xichen is like “wangji wtf is going on” meanwhile Jiang Cheng accuses Lan Wangji of kidnapping his brother, and Jiang Yanli is like “we’re willing to bargain for our brother back. what do you want?”

Lan Wangji: "If he’s ur brother why did you abANDON him"

Jiang Cheng: "how DARE we’ve been searching for him for MONTHS ever since you TOOK him"

"i found him abandoned so i took him home to PROTECT him"

"that’s a fancy way of saying you decided to keep him like an exotic pet"

"i did no such thing"

"then why did you keep that!?" Jiang Cheng points at the feather cloak and everyone looks

Lan Xichen: "oh no"

Lan Wangji: "what"

Lan Xichen: "wangji. the swan maiden"

Lan Wangji: *remembers the story about the swan maiden who left her swan feathers by the side of the pond while she bathed and the huntsman who took her feathers and thus took her, forced her to marry him and bear him three children, before she found her feathers, after which she yeeted outta there with her three children and never left the heavens again, leaving huntsman to die of a broken heart.*

Lan Wangji hadn’t even considered it, maybe because Wei Wuxian was sleeping and therefore didn’t beg for the feather cloak back, maybe bc he made a weak joke instead of flat-out asking Lan Wangji what he planned to do, maybe because his wasn’t pure and white but rather made of raven feathers and pitch black

Also Wei Wuxian got roaring drunk that’s how he ended up there. Jiang Cheng is like “just bc my brother is the stupidest dumb person to ever idiot–” “hey!” “does not mean you can just taKE ADVANTAGE of him”

Anyway Lan Wangji freaks tf out and practically throws the feather cloak back at Wei Wuxian, who hasn’t been meeting his eyes and not saying anything this whole time and tries to apologize. Jiang Yanli grabs it and her brother and walks into the lake, pink and cream lotus blossoms blooming under her feet; she doesn’t sink under the surface. She stands in the middle and they both go under. Then Wei Wuxian arises in his full black-and-red glory, Jiang Cheng shoots Lan Wangji one last glare and then the three of them promptly disappear into the heavens

Lan Xichen holds Lan Wangji for the first time in years while he cries. He stutters his way through an explanation of what happened the past three months, saying again and again that he didn’t know, he noticed that Wei Wuxian wasn’t human and a little bit magic but he didn’t expect this and he didn’t realize that he was preventing Wei Wuxian from leaving. Lan Xichen says things like “i believe you” and “you’re not a terrible person, you just made a terrible mistake”

Eventually Lan Wangji stops hyperventilating, and that’s when a flock of crows leaves their roosts, the wind shrieks, and Wei Wuxian descends again. Lan Wangji doesn’t understand how Wei Wuxian could possibly forgive him, or how someone like Wei Wuxian could possibly take interest in a lonely huntsman like Lan Wangji, but Wei Wuxian holds his hand out and says that he promised to take Lan Wangji on a tour of his home (lotus pier!!), and his eyes do that thing and he says “well? Are you coming?” and how can Lan Wangji say no?

#antebunny's april prompts #spring fest 2021 #mdzs #wangxian #fairy tale au #fic outline #if you ask what this has to do with ribbons i will Smite you

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thursday-writes-fanfics · 4 years ago

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Choose, part 3.(Reader x Jack Sparrow or Will Turner. )

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean, Will Turner, Jack Sparrow.

Warnings: Angst, letting go of relationships to heal, ( also I am still rusty lol)

Words: 2.2 K

First - Former - Next

“Well, gentlemen and gentlewoman- oh wait, I mean trio of bastards, you caught me. Now, what do you want?”

The three of them looked at each other, still not used to the hostility Y/N showed them. After all, they had gone through so many things together and never had she called them bad names or belittled them. Never had she fought them with the intent to kill or leave, and now that was all that she did.

“Got nothing to say? Good, then leave me be,” Y/N grunted and attempted to step forth so she could walk past them, only to jump slightly when Will aimed his revolver right at her head. A shit-eating grin split the young woman’s face as she stared at the blacksmith’s serious face. “Oh, so you think a threat to my life is going to keep me from going?” Y/N asked and stepped closer, smirking as the gunslinger took a step back in retaliation. “How stupid could one man be?” fell from Y/N’s lips and it was the only warning the man got before suddenly she dashed at him, almost crouched on the ground to avoid any bullets aimed her way.

“Here she comes!” roared Jack and dove before his companion, managing to block a blade meant for poor Will’s family jewels with his own sabre, yelping as a fist was aimed at his head. As Jack ducked to avoid it, poor Will faced his makers as he with a weak squeak fell onto his side, incapacitated. A loud snarl left Y/N throat as she aimed her cutlass for the captain on the ground, his shout of fear nothing but comical, only she had no time to laugh as he someone managed to spin on the ground, kicking her in the back of her knees. It gave the pirate just enough time to scramble to his feet before Y/N was after him, Elizabeth and Will forgotten as the two true pirates battled it out.

“Honestly, love,” Jack said as he stepped backwards quickly, throwing crates and other sorts of distractions so that he would not be the one impaled on a blade next. “I think you’re overreacting quite a bit about the bullet,” Y/N burned with rage as she realised he believed that she was only angry for him shooting her, and had yet to realise what he had done to her before. A scream left the captain as suddenly Y/N snatched the gun from her holster, aiming it and pulling the trigger within a second. The only reason Jack was still alive was because Y/N’s revolver was still dripping wet.

“I’m going to kill you, Sparrow!” roared Y/N in reply as she threw her revolver aside, effectively hitting Will right in the head. Y/N dashed for the pirate, swords clashing and sparks flying like fireworks at the sheer force of their impact. Jack was struggling to keep himself upright as the onslaught of Y/N’s weapons were like trying to fight the force of the sea. Elizabeth, who had been tending to will, came to his rescue.

“Y/N, stop! You’re acting like a madman!” she cried out as she swung her blade through the air, Y/N meeting it without looking. “Oh?” Y/N snarled and faced her childhood friend. “I’m the mad one, is that right?” she asked with a roar before she changed targets, Elizabeth crying out in surprise as she had yet to ever meet Y/N in a serious battle. Elizabeth realised just how important it was to have Y/N as a friend rather than a foe, as with Y/N before her as an enemy now, she feared for her life more than she had ever done before.

“Elizabeth!” both men shouted, and their calls for the woman only fueled Y/N’s fire, the hatred like black tar in the usually bright eyes. Elizabeth’s eyes widened in fear as suddenly her sword was flying through the air, the force of her opponent having knocked it right out of her hand. The metal vibrated as it dove into the ground, penetrating the old wooden planks until it was halfway to the hilt. The only reason the woman did not fall dead to the ground was because both Jack and Will had managed to get off their arses and were both grasping Y/N’s arms.

“Y/N, stop it! What is wrong with you?” Will shouted as he desperately held her arms, surprised to find his childhood friend with more strength than he could ever imagine. At his words, she only fought back more fiercely, each breath heaved from her chest like an animalistic snarl. “I know I’m not the best one with words, but you definitely should not have said that,” Jack mused with a strained voice as with all his strength had to hold on. Elizabeth gazed at the woman, that stared at her with such anger she almost had a hard time believing Y/N had time and time again almost died to save her. Elizabeth slowly strode forth, fingers shaking as she hesitated to reach out to her friend, but the hint of remorse in those darkened eyes steeled her resolve.

“What happened to us?” Elizabeth whispered as she softly rested her hand upon Y/N’s warm cheek, the biting winds from the seas doing nothing to cool the fire which burned underneath her skin. For a moment, Y/N stilled, staring at her friend with clarity. Her struggles stopped, and the two men dared gaze at one another with a questioning glance before they loosened their hold. A grave mistake, as the moment Y/N could feel herself be released slightly the grief once more filled her eyes. She tore herself free from them, pushing them aside so that they stumbled and crashed into one another, Y/N spinning like a dance away from them whilst she sheathed her blades and found her revolver. With a light twirl, it too was put in its confinement. She gazed at the group, her heart breaking as she looked upon the three of them like the last time she had been awake. All together, both of her lost loves holding her childhood friend to protect her. It was an unbearable agony.

“I must agree with Jack,” Y/N dragged out her words as she gazed at the trio, tears burning in the back of her eyes as she forced them back. “Last time were were all together before you drugged me to sleep for gods know how many days, I explained everything. I proclaimed how I had loved you how I had been nothing to you because of Elizabeth,” she drawled before her eyes laid on the vast waters behind her, none of the others moving as Y/N hadn’t spoken this calmly since she left to meet Barbossa.

“I told you, how I fell for Jack when he made me feel wanted. Like I wasn’t just brought along because they felt bad. They needed me there, they wanted me there. Jack wanted me,” she seemed to have grown tired in only the few seconds which she spoke, as she turned once more to face the other three, the lantern’s light reflecting in Y/N’s eyes. The sorrow and agony was clear in her eyes now, and finally, it clicked in their heads that she had actually meant what she said that day on the docks, so far away from here. “And you,” Y/N said and pointed at her lifelong friend with a trembling finger.

“You took them both away from me. I understand that the heart chooses over the mind, but you could at least once looked at me, and realised that the tears in my eyes were caused by you. By your indecisiveness that made my heart break over and over. I even told you I fancied Jack,” Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide as Y/N spoke, her mind searching for the crucial moment they spoke of and the memory of a cold, misty morning aboard their ship. She could remember vividly, how Y/N had told her that her heart had started beating for a certain captain, and how she believed he felt the same for her.

“I-” Elizabeth began, flabbergasted by her own behaviour. How could she have forgotten such a thing, she wondered. After all, I had been the first time Y/N expressed how she had felt about someone romantically. Elizabeth knew that memory should have been burned into her mind. “You what?” Y/N asked and suddenly threw her hand to her face, roughly rubbing away what could only have been an escaped their. Three hearts cracked as they saw it, as Y/N had never let a single tear fall in front of them ever before.

“That’s what I thought,” Y/N replied when Elizabeth couldn’t utter a word. Y/N stepped towards them, both Jack and Will coming to hover over Elizabeth protectively before they realised what they had done. Y/N momentarily stopped in her steps, the pure agonising sorrow shown so clearly on her face before she lowered her head and stepped past them.

“Y/N,” Will began, only to be silenced as a blade’s tip hung by his throat. “Don’t,” Y/N replied, not even allowing herself to look at him as it would hurt far too greatly. “Just don’t,” came her whisper, uncharacteristically tiny compared to her usually booming and confident tone. “Oh, Y/N,” Jack whispered as his heart truly hurt upon hearing and seeing his most fierce and righteous Y/N like this.

“Do not look for me,” Y/N sniffled and cleared her throat, blade back in its scabbard as she turned away from her friends, trying her best to not break down crying right before them. No one said a word, only confirming her fear that she wasn’t good enough for them. Because had she truly been worth enough, they would have grasped her and begged her to remain. “I wish you all the best,” Y/N continued, her breath choked in her throat as suddenly arms bound around her. She knew exactly who that was, and it tore her apart.

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth whispered as her head rested between Y/N’s shoulder blades, arms so tightly wound around her friend one would believe she was trying to kill her. Y/N knew it was because Elizabeth was afraid, feared that Y/N would never be part of her life again. Honestly, it was what she had believed she wanted all this time, but now when Elizabeth held her like she was her lifeline, Y/N didn’t know how she felt. Of course, she wished to be with her friends and those she had loved, however, the pain was too great.

“I can’t forgive you, Elizabeth,” Y/N whispered, hearing the heavy sobs that left her friend’s chest as she uttered the words Elizabeth never wished to hear. “Not right now,” Y/N continued and stepped through the protective embrace of her childhood friend, Elizabeth crying as she had no strength to hold her back. Y/N took another step, and with remorse realised she was free. She needed to leave but wished not to. She wanted to run into Elizabeth’s arms, to hug her and forgive her. Yet, her heart would not allow it, having grown determined after so many heartbreaks.

“I do not hate you, Elizabeth. I hope you know that,” Y/N said and turned to face the trio, the light from the lanterns reflecting the fat tears that streamed down her cheeks. “I could never do that. I love you too much to ever hate you. You’re my sister, even if our mother’s and fathers are not the same,” Elizabeth slumped onto her knees as she gazed at her dearest friend, the tears flowing from her eyes and her sobs to heavy they raked through her entire body. Jack and Will could say nothing and do nothing, as just like Elizabeth, they were filled with grief.

“Next time we meet, I hope we can see eye to eye as friends once more. But for now, I must heal,” Y/N said and one last time she grinned at them, that cheerful smile that would always make them grin back. But this time it did not, and as Y/N left they felt nothing but empty.

Y/N made her way back to the crowded streets, her tears having dried as she forced them back from whence they came. It would be unwise to show vulnerability amongst pirates, even those she knew. Her feet dragged her back to her favourite pub, closed for the night. With a heavy hand, Y/N knocked and was surprised to hear Mary’s footsteps when she should be dead asleep. The door swung open, the tavern-keeper stepping out with musket held firmly in hand. It fell upon gazing at the young woman before her, and Mary could tell without words Y/N was heartbroken.

“Come on in, lass. I’ll get you a warm place to sleep for tonight,” the older woman mused with a motherly whisper and Y/N stepped into her waiting arms. She cried for a long time that night, Mary there to hold her and soothe her tears through the darkness.

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i-do-trash-fanfictions · 4 years ago

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Thera’s Journal Entry #47

“Where are we going Thera?” Ann questioned as we walked far from the Cosmodrome.

“There’s something I need to retrieve that’s out here.” I answered. I remembered it being under the broken bridge. It was marked with white spray paint with the number 4 on a pillar. “There!” I pointed and Ann followed my finger. It was a good distance away so we both had our Ghosts transmatt Sparrows and we took off.

“But where are we going next? You said this was a two stop trip. What’s stop two if this is stop one?”

“We are going to see someone who travels on Earth.”

“Guardian?”

“Yes, but she doesn’t work with the Vanguard like we do. And she doesn’t live in the Tower or the City. Everything she does, she does on her own accord.”

Ann nodded as we got off our Sparrows. “So she’s a rouge lightbearer?”

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to her for?”

“I want her to keep an eye on Caitl’s Cabal for me. That way if they do anything, I’ll know, and I can tell the Vanguard.” I answered, used to Ann’s never ending array of questions.

“Do you think we’re going to get into another war?”

I saw Poppy and Scout look at each other. They had been scanning around under the bridge.

I sighed. “I hope not. But if they do, I want to know before an attack on the city happens. That way we can prepare and not be caught by surprise like with the Red Legion. That’s why we’re going to see the Rouge.”

Ann didn’t ask anymore questions.

I knew she was worried about a war breaking out. If it could be prevented, I wanted to be able to do so. The Red War hurt us a lot. And it still hurts the survivors today. They aren’t the same. They’ve seen friends, family, die. They’ve seen the city get destroyed. It gave them trauma that they can never recover from. I’m no exception.

I was worried not only about a second war, but about Ann. She was sweet, optimistic, open to becoming friends with everyone, and I was afraid that if a war did break out, she would change. She would change like I did.

I used to be like her. I would talk to everyone all the time. I sometimes wouldn’t shut up. I was optimistic, always looking at the bright side of everything. And I was always cracking jokes to lighten the mood. But not after the Red War. Even after the deaths of Sora and Zane, I wasn’t too bad. I hadn’t entirely stopped talking. I still cracked jokes here and there. But after the war, I stopped talking entirely. I barely joked around anymore. I wasn’t as optimistic, my mind was filled of gloomy thoughts. It took me years to break out of that and even become a fraction like myself again.

It was Ann who made me myself again. After meeting her, I was only showing her around to be nice to Poppy and because Scout would scold me later if I didn’t. But it was as if her happiness and optimism rubbed off on me almost immediately. I had talked to her more than I had talked to anyone after the Red War, besides Scout. I realized I needed a friend like her, and before I knew it, it was as if I was back to my old self again. Or as close as I could get.

I was afraid that if Ann became a part of another war, she would lose her optimism, her happiness, that made her who she is.

“Thera! Found it.”

I got down and began to dig with my hands where Scout instructed. It wasn’t very deep, only a half-inch, and there was a chip. I picked it up and held it between my thumb and forefinger.

“What’s that?” Ann asked, looking down over my shoulder at it.

“This will tell us where the Rouge is. She changes her location every once in a while, and she’ll go back and put her new coordinates on this chip, that way I can find it and know where she’s at. Only I know where the chip is. And now you do too, and you better not tell a soul. She wouldn’t be very happy if you did.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Alright Scout. Let’s take this back to the ship and go find her.”

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

“Whoa, that’s a pretty uncharted area.” Came Ann’s voice over the coms.

“She likes uncharted areas. Makes it harder for people to find her.”

“Why doesn’t she want to be found? Did she do something wrong? Is she like, wanted by Spider or something?”

I laughed. “No. She just doesn’t want to go on missions for the Vanguard anymore, day after day, night after night. She wants to go out in those uncharted territories and gain information about them. She knows of many areas that aren’t inhabited by the Fallen, or any other creature. And if the Vanguard ever need a spot for a new base, she’s probably got the place. The Vanguard know her, and they know she’s out here. She’s helped out a few times before. And because they know she’s not causing any harm and that she can take care of herself, they leave her be.”

“Have you ever thought of being like them?”

“Like who?”

“The Rouge, and Cal? Who just go and do what they want? Like going on adventures, or maybe settling down somewhere?”

“I have thought about it before. But I want to stay at the Tower more. It’s been my home for over twenty years, I don’t think I could ever leave. And I want to stay to protect the city. I would never forgive myself if something happened and I wasn’t there to fight.”

“That makes sense.”

“Thera, Ann, we’re getting close to the area. There’s a clearing in the trees up ahead, lets land there.” Said Scout.

I landed my ship first, then Ann landed hers. Then we both transmatted outside.

“Why is it always forest?” I asked myself.

“Wouldn’t you rather it be a forest than a hot desert or a cold tundra?” Poppy asked, looking around.

“I’m a solar guardian, I’m used to the heat. And I’ve been on Europa. I don’t think Earth’s different climates can compare.”

“Good point.”

We started onward, getting on our Sparrows and riding off, with me in the lead since Scout had the coordinates.

Nearly ten minutes later, we reached a small shack.

“Homey.” Said Ann sarcastically.

We got off our Sparrows.

“Let me do the talking, alright? She doesn’t know who you are, so she doesn’t trust you.”

I knocked on the door once, twice, five times. Nothing.

I hummed. “Probably out on one of her adventures. She’ll come back eventually.”

Leaves suddenly began to rustle above us and I spun around, Hawkmoon out of my holster and in my hand in under a second. I stared back at a lone figure in all black with a cloak. Their auto rifle was out and in their hands, pointed at Ann who had her handcanon out as well. Ann looked at me curiously, to see what my move would be before she made hers.

“Rouge.” I stated.

The Rouge straightened. She lowered her gun but didn’t put it away. I tucked mine into my holster. Ann watched me and did so too.

“Who is this?” She asked while staring at Ann. Her helmet modulated her voice.

“A close friend of mine. Her name is Angelica. I refer to her as Ann. She’s trustworthy.”

Her gun dissipated and she walked forward. “It’s been a long time. Come in and we can debate about what you need. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need something.”

I followed her into the house, Ann trailing behind. “What, I can’t come visit a friend?” I asked with a grin as my helmet dissipated. She didn’t take hers off, but instead moved over to a countertop burner.

“Tea?” Rouge asked, going through her pack that lay in the floor and pulling out two tea bags.

“Sure. Why not? Ann?” I asked.

“I guess so.” Came her quite answer. I could tell that Rouge intimidated her.

Rouge began boiling water.

“Yeah, I do need something actually.” I began.

“I knew it.”

“You heard of Caitl?”

“Yes, I have, and I don’t like it. The last thing we need is for a second Red War.”

“I agree.” I sat down on a single wooden chair. There weren’t any others, probably because Rouge wasn’t expecting visitors. “For now, we aren’t on a full out war. Really, the true war is between the Cabal and the Hive. But, I kept help but worry that Caitl will still order her army to attack the Last City.”

“I doubt she can. She does not have the numbers for an attack. The Guardians will surely crush her.”

“But you can’t help but worry. Do you think you can keep an eye out around the Last City area?”

“I know I can, but will I is a different question. I highly doubt that Caitl will preform an attack, at least not this early into the disagreement.”

“I would pay you, but glimmer doesn’t mean that much to you.” Since Rouge traveled all the time, she didn’t have much use for the currency. The most she spent it on was supplies when she finally did come to the Tower. She handed Ann and I a cup of tea. “So what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. I’ll do it, but only because I do not want there to be a surprise attack on the city, and for me to know that perhaps I could have prevented it.”

I took a sip. “Knew you would.”

Rouge held out her hand. “I want the chip back.” I pulled it out of my pocket and gave it to her. She turned and gestured to Ann, who stood beside me. “You do not speak much.”

“Thera told me to let her do the talking.” Ann answered.

“Very smart of her. You seem young, but your eyes show that you have seen fights and battles.”

“A year old.”

“Hm. You are lucky to have someone like Thera on your fireteam.”

“She’s helped me out of tough spots before.”

“She will do anything for her friends. Sit, Angelica.” Rouge sat on the ground, with Ann across from her. I stayed in my chair, sipping my tea. “Any noteable achievements that you’ve made?”

“I killed a hive witch named Navota at the Cosmodrome soon after I was rezzed. She was responsible of the deaths of two Guardians.”

Rouge nodded. “Anything else?”

“Not really. Or not yet, anyway.”

“Tell me, can you keep secrets?”

“Of course.” Ann was uncomfortable.

“How can I believe you?”

Ann looked at me. I shrugged.

“I- I don’t know. Ask Thera I guess. She’s my friend, she knows that I can keep secrets.”

“You can still tell someone one of Thera’s secrets, and yet, Thera will never know. She is not a good source. How will you get me to believe?”

Ann was silent for a moment. “The Traveler knows my deeds. Is it a good source?” She finally said.

A Ghost appeared at Rouge’s side and nodded to her. Suddenly, Scout and Poppy appeared too. They looked at each other.

“Your Ghosts feel it too. A small burst of light through them. The Travelers way of saying that what you say is true. You’ve passed. You are a very smart Guardian. Very smart for one so recently resurrected.”

“Um, passed what exactly?” Ann asked, confused.

“I like to know who I can and can not trust.” Rouge explained. “The Traveler directs me on this. For when you say something, and then say something along the lines of “The Traveler knows what I have done, and knows that what I say is true.” it will vouch for you if you are telling the truth. A burst of light will be given to the Ghosts around you, it’s way of saying that you speak the truth. That is how I know that you are one I can trust.”

Rouge was not one to easily trust others. She had been betrayed three times in her lifetime as a Guardian. Once by a close friend. She pulls this test on anyone who she wishes to do more business with. She learned it after the Traveler awoke when it happened to our Ghosts after I had said something. That way she can know with the Traveler as her guide, who she should and shouldn’t trust.

Rouge stood and brushed off dirt. “I suppose you will not be staying much longer then?”

Ann stood as well. I answered, “We can drop you off near the Last City now if you want. It will be a long walk from here.”

“You don’t have a ship?” Ann asked.

“No, I do not. I prefer to walk or ride a Sparrow.”

“Why?”

“Ann, don’t plague her with questions right now. You can do that later.” I waited for Rouge’s response.

“That will be welcome.”

The blue Ghost at Rouge’s side disappeared. Scout and Poppy did so too as we readied to leave. Rouge prepared her things and we began the trek back to the ships.

“What do I call you?” Ann asked.

“You will refer to me as the Rouge, young one.”

Ann nodded then looked ahead. “That’s not your real name is it.”

“Not it is not. You will learn my real name when I am ready to give it to you.”

“Can I at least know your Ghosts name?”

“His name is Blitz.” Rouge answered.

“Blitz is a cool name. Is that his real name?”

“Yes, that is his real name.”

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny guardians #destiny game

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years ago

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Potentially loaded question but do you think Frida was forgiven a little too easily? Like considering how much she lashed out at Hilda and David then turned to the marra. I know she's a kid and it's understandable to make mistakes, but from a story structure point of view was it earned or rushed? This came up in a discord chat and

you're the most active Hilda blog I've seen (also you're super cool and I accidentally hit send too early 🤣)

Hey there, anon! Okay, so... I had actually never given this topic much thought before, so after I read you ask this stuck in my head. I even re watched The Black Hound so I could remember things and answer you properly. I’m not the best at media analysis, but this is a very interesting point that you brought up so I’ll do my best to break it down so I can try to explain my mixed feelings about this subject.

(Also please forgive me but this is not at all a straight forward answer, I’ve rambled a bit so there’s even a cut😅)

First off, I think we should consider Frida’s mistakes as two separate things: one would be lashing out at Hilda and David, and the second one would be joining the Marra. It’s clear that they’re both connected and that one led to the other, but their orders of magnitude are so different that I think it wouldn’t be appropriate to consider them the same mistake.

So let’s begin by her lashing out. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that the argument scene was right after they fought a ghost. Taking that into consideration, I can understand why she lashed out. She was feeling scared after a life threatening situation, and that plus the emotional stress that she was going through, with questioning everything she’d ever thought she was, made her burst. But even though it was understandable, it wasn’t justifiable, specially since she told Hilda some things that didn’t even have to do with the ghost situation.

And stopping to think about it, it did sort of bother me that this happened, and then Hilda and David after long seemed to have forgotten it. In the Nisse episode, they’re worried about Frida missing classes and sparrow scouts meetings, and so they simply go to her house and... act completely normal. It is normal for people to be worried when they know someone they care about is going through a rough patch in life and it stops them from leaving their house. I mean, it’s a symptom of a few mental illnesses, even. But the fact that they just went to her house, no questions asked, and acted as if nothing had happened just didn’t sit well with me. Especially because it would have been a simple matter to solve. People lash out with some frequency, it’s nothing out of this world. If Frida had just apologized and explained why she had said what she did, things would have been fine, somewhat. But she didn’t really, and things only got worse.

And that takes us to the Marra issue. Not only did Frida all but discard her old friendships without amuch of a reason, she also looked for friendship somewhere else. But let’s think about it, though. Frida isn’t going to school. Frida hasn’t been leaving her house, we know this. So how could she have met Kelly? This whole situation gives me the feeling that somehow the Marra know when someone is vulnerable, and that Frida was manipulated to become Kelly’s friend.

Sounds reasonable, right?

But the thing is that Kelly isn’t just some mean girl that Frida wants to impress (probably because when you’re young you think teenagers are cool for some reason). Kelly is a marra and Frida knew that.

In the end of The Nisse, we see Frida around the campfire, feeding off of nightmares herself, and in the beginning of The Black Hound, we see Kelly throwing Frida forward saying “last to join, first to get eaten”. These two occasions make it clear that Frida didn’t only befriend her, she joined the Marra, even though it seemed like she was at some sort of apprenticeship stage still. And that’s something I can’t wrap my mind around.

This isn’t lashing out in the heat of the moment. She had time to form a “bond” with Kelly, and I’m assuming that she didn’t only learn that she was a Marra after Kelly brought her to the forest. I mean, if she’d just dragged Frida to the campfire and said “surprise, I’m a nightmare spirit and I’m recruiting you!” she’d definitely try and get away, because she’d be scared! So there was some time for her to get used to that idea, not only that Kelly was a Marra, but also that they wanted her to be one as well.

I could argue that Kelly groomed Frida to accept, and it’s a factor that we definitely should keep in mind; grooming is not something to be taken lightly. But after what we see in The Nightmare Spirit? I’m sorry to say this, but Frida should have known better. She saw those spirits torturing her best friends. She had already seen what they were. And I can’t get it in my head that she simply ignored that! That could have been some sort of revenge against them, but it wasn’t, because there seems to be no more resentment from Frida’s side after her blow up in The Ghost. So something that could easily have been vengeance (even though Hilda and David did nothing wrong) was actually just what she chose? Probably manipulated but otherwise unprompted?

And now we get to her “redemption arc”. Let’s take a look, shall we?

This scene happened right after they ran away from the hound. Frida offers to help him, and this is what she says while doing it:

“You were right, you know? About my new, so called, friends.”

This quote actually made me realize something. I could be wrong, but has Frida, at any point in the series, said that David was right? Specially while saying that she was wrong? We see her look remorseful in The Sparrow Scouts, but I don’t think we’ve ever heard her saying that she was wrong before, and I think it was probably very hard for her to say it. Next, she says:

“I’m sorry, I’ve been acting like an idiot.”

And to her credit, she really does look sorry.

For the next few minutes of this episode, there are other instances where she tries to take back what she’s said and done. When Hilda is with her by her door, she says she trusts her and comes up with a plan to help her get a badge. When she is collecting Kelly’s garage sale stuff, she tells him to keep her plushie, because “it’s never a good idea to throw away your real friends”. And while I loved those scenes (and that last one was quite the shade she threw at Kelly, ngl), I’m not at all sure that this serves as a redemption arc (amen, after eleven paragraphs I finally answered the question!)

If all of that had been said before her joining the Marra, I would have thought it perfect. Like you said, anon, she’s a kid, it’s understandable that she doesn’t have a good enough grip over her emotions not to lash out in stressful situations. But this was all done after a more complex and problematic action on her part.

So what would have been a good redemption arc? Well... I don’t think she’ll be completely redempted before she does something to earn their friendship back, instead of just saying apologizing. It would be super cool to have her actually, idk, “resist temptation” for her friends. Maybe if the marra came back and a tried to manipulate her into joining them again, and she refused, that would be a nice way to tie her redemption arc.

Since what you asked was an opinion and not an AU, let’s get back to it. I think it was really easy to have Frida just deliver a few meaningful lines and try to help Hilda earn a badge (though I think she would have done that regardless of trying to apologize, and so would any good friend) and write her off as redempted. But that really didn’t work completely, because it’s easy to be kind and nice when the problem has already passed. How will Frida react when their friendship goes through another tough situation? Will she lash out again or has she learned from her mistakes? We don’t know, because at no point was it shown that she learned.

And now we get to how I feel about it from a storytelling point of view. This redemption is what had been building up since episode 9, and since the Vittra episode we were shown that Frida needed a cold reality shower. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but if she didn’t realize that she couldn’t be perfect, and that putting her attempts at perfection above her friends was an awful choice, she would only have problems later in life.

What I mean is, with so much build up to this arc, and so much significance to it, it’s disappointing that we had what, half an episode for it? If only the time had been taken to put Frida in a situation where she proved that what she went through made her learn, but no, they didn’t take the time. Which is a shame, because seeing Frida’s character development is always delightful to me.

Summing it up: Frida’s lashing out made sense to me and it was a somewhat easy matter to solve. However if there’s no more said about this topic in season 2, her redemption arc will have been, in my eyes, rushed and incomplete, because nothing was done to show that Frida actually learned. It’s a shame that they didn’t dedicate more time to expanding on that arc, because it was a story that was due to being developed ever since the first episodes.

Thank you for this ask, anon! This was very fun to think about and write, and I’m happy to know I come across as cool :D

#frida hilda #hilda the series #hilda netflix #does this count as meta? i think it does #hilda meta #frida #wife answers asks

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years ago

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Digging through the archives 1: The ReBoot drama

Hello and welcome to one of the first “subsections” of posts I am going to make on this tumblr for the sake of an easier overview. This one is titlted “Digging through the archives”, because it will always relate to something I will find by literally looking for some of the oldest “opinion” or personal related stuff about Dobson that there is. So think of this here less as me tackling his comics and more of my own version of what the Hypocrisy of Andrew Dobson does.

With that explanation out of the way, lets just briefly talk about Dobson and his idea of fan entitlement; If you have followed Dobson throughout the last year or so, you know he has a very low opinion on fans of the original She-Ra and He-Man, 80s cartoons in general and Star Wars, to the point he thinks the people behind it are all potential alt righters (link red flag comic) or basically man children.

To anyone who knows Dobson however, it would be no surprise now to learn that he has a tendency to be the same kind of way to other people and creators. Like when he whined to an actual writer on a Frozen related property about the necessity of giving Elsa a girlfriend, which even resulted in Aaron Sparrow being involved at one point, a professional animator and comic writer on the Boom Comics related Darkwing Duck issues. A prime example on how Dobson will literally make himself also unsympathetic to the people he wants to work for/with.

But then there is what I found in relation to a little animated series by the name of ReBoot and that is really where both his entitlement and egotism kinda shine.

For those unaware: ReBoot was a computer animated adventure show produced by Mainframe Entertainment and ran from 1994 to 2001. It is actually listed as the first fully computer animated cartoon out there and is fondly remembered by a lot of people. Unfortunately, I myself have never watched it so I can’t give a “valid” opinion on it. All I have seen so far are clips on youtube but I will admit that what I have seen in them looks fun and intriguing, even if the animation at parts (especially in season 1 related content) has not aged that well. But hey, early computer animation, that is forgivable. And any media that manages to make an episode that is also in a way a huge tribute to Evil Dead of all things in a children cartoon is a big win for me.

youtube

Now, how is ReBoot connected to Dobson? Dobson has been a fan of ReBoot, a fact he made publicly known when in 2007 rumors of a continuation of ReBoot emerged. Something Dobson, again, the man who is pissed about the entitlement of She-Ra fans, has not been very happy about.

But Dobson, what is so wrong about being “different” from the past? After all, let the past die! The original show had terrible artwork! And not everything back in the day was good, right?

Yeah, it is pretty obvious how his complaining and stands against “modern” fans ring pretty hollow when he himself acted as the entitled brat he thinks critics of new She-Ra and Thundercats Roar are, back in 2007 already. Also I honestly feel that at the very least the creators of that idea gave their fans still more “control” than Rian Johnson did. And we all know how much Star Wars suffered in terms of reputation because of it.

BTW, this webcomic continuation mentioned? It is actually not just a rumor that went nowhere, but one of the most fascinating aspects I found when reading up on ReBoot via Wikipedia. The idea was that of the five potential pitches (so again, there was variety given that even could have been expanded on) people could choose one that would be further adapted. Additionally the people behind the idea were looking for more active input by fans, giving people the chance to apply as artists working on it if they decided to submit samples people could vote on. Something Dobson jumped actually on. And tried to manipulate in his own favor

The thing that catches my attention at first is how hyperbole Dobson is. Claiming the fate of the show is in their hands and treating voting on this thing like it’s a live or die situation, with pointlessly writing stuff in caps as if we are reading the headline of some trashy newspaper article. It just comes off less as someone who is a fan and more of a fanatic of the show. Second, I just find it hilarious that of all the plattforms online Dobson decided to post that “VERY IMPORTANT” information people should act immediately on, was deviantart. Did he genuinely expect people would flock to what he wrote in order to immediately do something about the vote? Deviantart even back then was mostly for posting fanart, few people read journals and even less people cared for ReBoot. I don’t know if the /co/ board of 4chan existed back in 2007 already, but he would have had more success posting on there and get the information out, than on dA.

Lastly, the shameless self promotion. Stating he does not care which pitch wins, when only three day prior he whined how they all suck and he wishes the show would be done justice by someone. That someone obviously being him, the person who is so hardcore as a fan, because he already waited 8 years just to watch season 3. Damned be any other artists or pitches that may be better or more popular than him, HE is the true messiah and that is his chance to shine. So don’t be “neutral” and judge fairly based on actual competence, talent and effort, just vote for him blindly or else Trump wins the second term and your beautiful nation turns into the fourth rei- I mean, Dobson will be a very sad guy who has come to terms with the fact he is not talented enough to work on a reboot/continuation of his favorite children show.

Well, it seemed to have had some impact though, as four day later he posted this

And obviously Dobson is pissed his favorite pitch did not win and instead of being grateful for the good ratings some of his artwork got he focuses instead on the fact that his Enzo and Megabyte pic had the lowest rating. Which in my opinion it kinda deserved. I mean, look at those artpieces:

Enzo is okayish looking but the rest? That is not Megabyte and a genuine background, it is a cola light version of the entire Ripley disaster with the Samus Artwork commission. Also, Enzo’s hands just look weird. His fingers more alien than they need to be and the position of his legs not really adjusting to how the hip is supposed to move. The comic sample page that Dobson drew being okay overall, aside of the fact that Enzo in one panel HAS FOUR INSTEAD OF FIVE FINGERS ON ONE HAND DESPITE HAVING FIVE FINGERS IN A PREVIOUS PANEL. I am also not really a fan of how Dobson puts emphasize on the word “FAN” and “PAGES” in the post, indicating he thinks he is a better and bigger fan than any of the people who submitted their entries too, off handedly praising them but also making it obvious he thinks he is the most fit for the job, because he can also “copy any artstyle” and adjust to the needs of his superiors. Yeah, sure. That’s why you are nowadays and with even more time and effort put into your work so “good” at imitating Ladybug, your comics look exactly like in the show…

Now considering that Dobson does not have ReBoot under his resume and likely tried his best to bury any enthusiasm for it, you can imagine how this chance at being an official artist ended up.

Not even much of a follow up or introspective in why he may have not won. His enthusiasm died within two days.

And honestly, I am surprised that as a result he did not fake depression and rage quit doing comics for a month or so as he did here and there.

And that is pretty much the end of the ReBoot drama, at least as far as I know.

If you are interested what happened with the comic project, here is what I managed to gather:

The project did actually not die in development, but “ReBoot: Arrival” would be reimagined under the name “Code of Honour” and be published online in three “issues” over the course of the next few months. The comic’s status as “canon” continuation of the show is however very much in the air, as quite a lot of people think it is something of a fanfiction, others think it is a good enough continuation that unfortunately still does not deliver on an “ultimate” ending of the franchise. That said, with additional plans like a movie trilogy never been realized and the “reboot” known as “ReBoot: The Guardian Code” having been perceived as an insult by fans and a disappointment by most audiences (which Dobson was surprisingly silent about) this comic seems to be the best thing fans can still hope for and read.

youtube

Yeah, I am not even kidding. The comic is still up. Here, have two links to independent pages if you want to either read it for the first time or revisit it for the sake of nostalgia.

As for Dobson, if he reads this, I just have one thing to say to you: Don’t you ever again try to whine about how entitled fanboys are, if you felt entitled enough yourself you tried to manipulate a competition in your own favor in the hope to become a writer and then exploit ReBoot for your own agenda and benefit.

#andrew dobson #syac #tom preston #she-ra #reboot #reboot:the guardian code #western animation #computer animation #bob #megabyte #enzo #hypocrisy

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cryysiswritesthings · 4 years ago

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Beneath the Darkness in My Bones || Chapter One

Fandom: Inuyasha Rating: Mature/NC-17 Warnings: Horror, Psychological Torture, Trauma, Implied/Referenced Torture, Rape, Parent/Child Incest, Obsession, Drugged Sex, Sexual Assault, Abuse, Non-Consensual Somnophilia Status: In Progress Pairing(s): KogKag (main), BanKag, Oni(gumo)Kag Summary: Horror is all she knows. Darkness is in his blood. She is the other half of his soul, and his calls for her echo long into the night.

Find it On: Tumblr | AO3

Series: Flowers Grown in Darkness Desecrate You

Chapters on Tumblr: Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 ||

Tumblr Tags: #kogkag #bankag #onikag #inuyasha #beneath the darkness #btd chapter #flowers desecrate series

Kagome’s eyes never left the floor as their steps echoed through the stone halls. Banktosu led her diligently, ignoring the servants who stepped aside to let them pass. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, their malnourished bodies moving like puppets on a string. As soon as the duo passed, the servants and maids reformed their lines, going back to work.

To the villagers who had never lived a day in the castle, such behavior would have been a clear warning of some dark sorcery. An omen of war yet to come. To the castle’s residents, however, this had become the staple of their daily lives since the loss of their beloved Lady Kikyo.

After a few more turns, the silent duo arrived at the castle’s main hall, locked behind two massive, heavy wooden doors. Briefly, Kagome remembered a time she had wondered if they were made from the same wood as the trees that bordered their lands. She’d wanted to know, and that had been one of her first lessons about learning what was and was not appropriate for her to ask.

Six pairs of guards stood outside the doors, three on each side, all waiting for Banktosu’s nod. At his signal, they took hold of the large iron bars that served as the only means to open the hall to them. Kagome knew better than to rush in. To enter the cavernous room until the doors were fully opened, without permission, was worth an evenings unwanted company as punishment. It was better to wait until she had been invited.

The lord of the castle, a young looking man who went by the name of Onigumo, rested comfortably on his throne. It could not be seen from their distance, but on his beautiful face sat a triumphant smile. He took a moment to admire his daughter, congratulating himself on having trained her so perfectly. His darling daughter, who looked so much like his late wife, her mother, the lovely Lady Kikyo.

“Ah, you’ve found her. Excellent as always, Bankotsu.” Crimson eyes left the guard to focus instead on his child. “Come in, Kagome. Come and greet your father.”

With a bow of her head, acknowledging his invitation, Kagome followed Bankotsu’s slow walk into the room. The creaks and groans of the wooden doors splintered over the walls as they were drawn to close. It was only as the duo reached his lordship and Bankotsu stepped aside to allow the young woman to stand before her father that they finally clanged together, signaling that the trio were alone.

“My lord,” she began demurely, bowing low, “I must apologize for my delay, I was… distracted from my duties.” She would not rise to meet his eyes. “Please, forgive me.”

“Oh?” The lord’s face lifted, his triumphant smile shifting to one of amusement. “And what could have caused this distraction from such a dutiful child as my daughter?”

His amusement scared her. More than his anger, than his rage, his amusement could mean humiliation of the highest order, or a punishment that would haunt her waking hours. Her gulp was inaudible, and though she rose from her bow, still she would not look at the man before her. “I… I do not know, my lord.” Kagome licked her lips, trying to hide the quaking of her voice. “I… I suppose it was only a whimsical fancy. I found myself staring out the window, and wished for some fresh air. I did not realize how much time had passed, or I would not have been late for dinner.”

“You must have truly been distracted, for me to have to send Bankotsu to fetch you,” he crooned softly. The lord’s crimson eyes flicked to the male behind her. “He is meant to be my personal guard, Kagome. Not your babysitter.”

She flinched, and only just resisted the urge to hug herself. Tears pricked at her eyes, terrified of his displeasure, but she would not let them fall. Doing so would only make things worse “Yes, my lord. I promise, it will not happen again.”

“See that it does not.” Onigumo rose from his throne, stepping down from his raised dias to stand before his daughter. Slowly, he reached a hand to raise her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “You have been doing so well, my daughter. I would hate to have to once more assign Jakotsu as your guard. He has expressed great enjoyment with his current duties. I cannot imagine he would be pleased to be removed from them in order to keep an eye on you.” Fear filled her eyes, and his smile widened. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” The word came out as barely more than a whisper, and she tried again. “Yes, father. I understand.”

“Excellent.” The lord did not release her, instead leaning forward to brush a soft kiss to the sleep bruised skin of her eye. “Now then. Let us enjoy our dinner together before it gets cold.” He dropped his hand from her chin, holding it up for her to rest her arm over his. “Jinenji has prepared quite the special meal for us. Quail soup, a spinach pecan salad, and roasted duck.” He glanced to the girl from the corner of his eye. “A favorite of your late mother.”

Dinner was a quiet affair, and for Onigumo, over with far too quickly. As his daughter rose, she bowed to him, excusing herself for the evening. He watched her turn from him and head back to the entrance of the throne room for only a moment, before letting his gaze fall to the young man who had stood silent throughout their meal. It had not escaped his notice over the years how Bankotsu’s eyes followed his child, watching her until she was gone from his sight.

“Bankotsu.”

The guard’s gaze moved back to meet his lords own, unafraid of the man seated before him. He was aware that his lord knew of his… something to the Lady. Bankotsu had been brought to the castle as a child, one of seven unique children. From the moment he had first laid eyes on her, Bankotsu had known the Lady would belong to him. There had never been a doubt in his mind. He still felt the strength of his conviction, even now. “My lord?”

“You are aware that the man who is to wed my lovely daughter will be someone of my choosing. This has always been my choice, and her wedding night will belong to a man that I, and I alone, feel is worthy of it.”

“Of course, sire. I have always known.”

The lord smiled. “And still, you watch her as a hawk would its prey.”

Bankotsu raised a dark brow. “The choice has always been yours, my lord. But we both know I will always be the one you choose to marry her.”

“You think so, do you?”

The guard shrugged. “If you disagreed, you wouldn’t have heeded my advice against having Renkotsu put in charge of her.” Not that he thought Rentoksu couldn’t do the work. Quite the contrary. If anything, the other male would be far too good at the job. Good enough that, given the right provocation, he could turn the Lady against his ‘older brother’ if he chose to. Or try and take her for himself. And that was a thought not to be borne.

Bankotsu was not a man to be trifled with once he found something he desired. And he’d wanted the Lady for a long, long time. He didn’t like games, but he would use every method available to him. No matter what he had to do, who he had to kill, he would make the little sparrow his.

“So I did,” the lord murmured. Rising from his seat, he stepped away from the table, allowing the servants to finally clear the trays of food away. “It seems you truly believe you are the best choice to wed my daughter. I suppose I could be… persuaded to follow your way of thinking. However,” that red gaze settled heavily on the black haired guard, “should you do anything to… displease me from this point on, I may have to rethink that decision. And you would not want that.”

Bankotsu bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, my lord. My first loyalty has always been to you.”

“It has. See that it stays that way.”

The guard watched in silence as his lord headed through a hidden hallway before following him. Too often, the older man reminded him of Renkotsu, with his trickery and quiet manipulations. The difference was, Renkotsu had learned the hard way what it meant to cross his older brother. The lord found their little ‘family’ amusing, but he would likely feel otherwise if he knew who truly owned the loyalty of the elite seven.

Bankotsu smirked. Yes, his first loyalty was to the lord. And as long as the old fool didn’t get in his way, that wouldn’t have to change. If he did…. Well. He hadn’t been trained from childhood for nothing after all.

Now that she was alone in the hall, or as alone as one ever could be in this place, Kagome allowed her terror to consume her. She wouldn’t make it to the privacy of her rooms, they were too far, and so stopped at the darkest corner she could find. Her hand covered her mouth as her back hit stone, trying desperately to muffle her terrified sobs. She sank to the floor, curling in on herself to try and hide from the glazed eyes of the servants who passed her by.

She hated this place. Hated her father, his men, the servants, everything. She woke in fear every day. Would there be a presence inside her rooms that she didn’t want? When the evening candles were lit, she fought the pull of sleep, stare focused on the doorway to her rooms. Wondering, again, if her night would be disturbed by the unwanted presence of her lord father.

One way or another, she would leave this place. She didn’t know when, or how. All she knew was that if she didn’t, if she had to live in the nightmare inducing please much longer… If the horrors of the castle didn’t break her, she would take her own life in their stead.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…

The call was quiet, a dream of sound she could barely hear. Raising her head, she listened for the sound again. Nothing came, but she rose anyway, hand moving along the cool stone as she found her way to a window.

She could not see the forest from this side of the castle, could not smell the leaves rustling on the wind. But the full moon hung heavy in the sky, covering her in silver light.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…

She closed her eyes, savoring the sound. The call couldn't be real, she knew that. A figment of her imagination, conjured by her mind to help her retain her sanity while she lived here. Still, it soothed her, calmed the racing of her heart. Real or imaginary, it made no difference. And it helped her to imagine a fierce, protective rage echoing in the call. Something that, if she let it, would protect her from the horrors she faced for all the days of her life.

If only it were real.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh… Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh…

Red ringed eyes saw through wood and stone, caught on the heart that would soon join the one beating in his chest.

It had been centuries since one of his kind had found their other half in a human. The wolves belonged to the ancient world; were made of all things dark and dangerous. Oftentimes, humans could not understand the darkness of their lupine mates, and many of the packs were lost from the strain of their shattered bonds.

Wolves had always loved more fiercely than their human halves.

But this human had already tasted a twisted kind of darkness. She'd been born into it, knew its power to hurt, its power to control. Her pitiful sire used his meager powers to keep her caged, to keep her afraid. He would make her a prize to one stronger, if his wretched desires did not first make him keep her for himself.

The wolf's mouth pulled into a frown. Until his other half answered the call, stepped into his domain, there was nothing he could do for her. Though his fangs ached with the need to tear flesh from bone, to taste the life blood of her enemies on his tongue…

His lips curled in a snarl, pacing restlessly along the cliff side.

No, until she accepted him, he could not protect her. But when she did… Oh, when she did.

His snarl lifted to a terrible smile.

On that day, he would make them all pay.

#kogkag #bankag #onikag #inuyasha #flowers desecrate series #btd chapter #beneath the darkness

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years ago

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984.

1. When was the last time someone saw you naked? >> That’s a good question. Sparrow sees me in various states of undress sometimes, but I don’t remember the last time I was fully naked long enough to be seen by anyone. The only time I’m nude is when I’m in the shower or putting on moisturiser directly after said shower (which I do in my room).

2. If you could bring someone back from the dead and spend an hour with them, who would it be and what would you do/say? >> I don’t want to do this. I wouldn’t want to do that to the person, either, like... that sounds traumatic as fuck. (Now, if it were an Inworld type of situation, that’d be way different.)

3. What is the greatest loss you’ve endured? >> Various aspects of myself, I guess. But maybe they’re not truly lost. I have no way of knowing right now.

4. How would you describe your current mood? >> Neutral. I am rarely in an actual mood of any sort when I get this question, obviously -- I tend to only do surveys when I’m in this state, because it’s hard to focus on survey questions (or anything, really) if I’m actively having an emotion.

5. When was the last time you did something you were embarrassed by? >> I don’t remember.

6. What was the last thing you lied about? >> I don’t know, lying isn’t something I normally do -- unless lying by omission counts, because I don’t say literally everything that I’m thinking or tell everyone literally everything about a situation. Or whatever.

7. Where is your favorite place to have sex? >> Inworld.

8. What is your earliest memory? >> I have a vague impression of being on the floor of a dog breeder’s house? When we got my childhood dog Roxie, I guess.

9. Do you ever drink or get high alone? >> I often drink alone just because I’m in the house alone during the times when I’m most likely to drink. I like to just vibe, and not have to worry about “putting on my human suit” or whatever. Sometimes I like to be weird and dreamy or dance-y and vibrant when I’m intoxicated and I like to have space to do that.

10. What type of a drunk are you? >> I don’t know, I haven’t been drunk in a long time. I think at this point in my life I’m probably just a sleepy, cranky drunk. Which is partly why I don’t drink nearly enough to get there, lol.

11. What song (or a few songs, whatever) means a lot to you and why? >> Death is the Road to Awe means a lot to me because The Fountain as a whole means a lot to me and the music is a big part of that whole yarn-ball of meaningfulness. It’s something I really can’t explain. The feelings I have about the movie and the song are on the “this is actually kind of painful in its intensity” level of emotional connection.

12. When was the last time you revealed your feelings for someone? Were they accepted or rejected? >> I don’t remember. Revealing my feelings isn’t a common activity here in Mordredland, as I’m sure is obvious, and I rarely have any remarkable (or share-able) feelings about people anyway.

13. What was the reason behind your last visit to the hospital? >> I think the last time I was in a hospital was when Sparrow’s sister had her child.

14. How do you tend to deal with a breakup? >> ---

15. What is the “worst” drug you’ve done? Are there any you will never try, or any you want to try? >> I don’t classify drugs this way, so I don’t know how to answer this question. The drug I know I will never try is crack, and a drug I am interested in trying is shrooms.

16. What is something you’ve done that you truly regret? >> ---

17. What does it mean to you to be a good person? Do you feel you are a good person? >> I am uninterested in the “good person” designation. I just want to be valuable to and loved by a few people, maybe. That’d be nice.

18. What is your philosophy on life/how do you generally choose to live or conduct yourself? >> I don’t think I have an overall life philosophy, because that seems terribly impractical at best. Life is so complex. Maybe that’s a philosophy -- rejoice in and value the complexity of life. *shrug*

19. Do you view animals as being just as important as people? Why or why not? >> Hmm. I think a living thing should be allowed to live out its life and not be abused or willfully subjected to conditions that disrupt its quality of life. That’s really it, though.

20. When was the last time you were up all night and why? >> I don’t remember the last time that happened.

21. What is the worst thing you’ve done to yourself? What is the worst thing someone else has done to you? >> I don’t know what the worst thing I’ve done to myself is, but one not-great thing I’ve done to myself is become a chronic self-injurer. One not-great thing someone else has done to me is, well, I don’t know, physically abuse me repeatedly?

22. What is the most personal thing you’re willing to reveal? >> I’m not sure.

23. What made you stop talking to the last person you cut out of your life? >> The fact that he emotionally abused me, probably. That’ll do it.

24. Is there a situation or person you haven’t been able to get over/forgive? >> There are a lot of things I haven’t “gotten over” because their traumatic nature changed the way I am as a person and now I have to deal with that. I don’t really see a point in forgiveness, personally -- what I do see a point is forgiving myself and treating myself better than I’ve been treated.

25. Who was the last person to yell at you? Did you yell back? >> I don’t remember.

26. Where did your last injury come from? >> I don’t know! I just have this random gouge on my finger, like someone just took a small sample of my skin.

27. What are some kinks or turn-ons you have, if any? >> Trying to describe the things I like is hard because 1) it’s often dependent on context and 2) it’s more... specific kinds of things happening in specific kinds of situations and I don’t want to like, have to lay out a whole scenario, lol.

28. What are you like during arguments? >> I have an insanely heightened physical response to conflict, for some reason (I say “for some reason” like I’m not literally post-traumatic, but I don’t know what exactly contributed to this particular symptom) -- crazy heartbeat, flushed skin, shaking, the whole nine. So I guess I’d say I go full monkey-brain during arguments and I tend to do/say whatever will get me the fuck out of the situation because I cannot process anything but “I’m in danger and these people are dangerous and did I mention DANGER”. I’ve been working on trying to express myself rationally during perceived-conflict or actual-conflict situations, but it’s a long process and mostly I just try to avoid getting into the position to begin with.

29. What is the worst thing you have said to another person? >> *shrug* Who knows.

30. Where do you like to be kissed? >> Everywhere, when a person I’m available to in that way is doing it. (So, Inworlders.)

31. What is more difficult for you, looking into someones eyes when you are telling someone how you feel, or looking into someones eyes when they are telling you how they feel? >> I don’t look into people’s eyes, period. It’s the practice of eye contact itself that is inconceivably difficult for me.

32. Think of the last time you were REALLY angry. WHY were you angry? Do you still feel the same way? >> I really don’t remember the last time I was legitimately furious (and not just using bluster to suppress a more vulnerable feeling).

33. You are on a flight from Honolulu to Chicago non-stop. There is a fire in the back of the plane. You have enough time to make ONE phone call. Who do you call? What do you tell them? >> Why was I in Honolulu, though...? I need more context for this situation that I cannot imagine myself in.

34. You are at the doctor’s office and he has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? What do you do with your remaining days? Would you be afraid? >> Well, obviously I tell my spouse, and then I guess... some people I hang out with online? I don’t know what I would do with my remaining days because I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in that situation and how it would change my priorities. And, of fucking course I’d be afraid.

35. You can have one of the following two things. Which do you choose? Why? Usually when someone says that, a list of two things would follow. <--

36. You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late even once more, you are fired. Do you take the time to save the dogs life? Why or Why not? >> I don’t work, so that’s the first problem with this question. In a general sense, though, I would probably risk a consequence of that caliber in order to try to save a life if I can. (I don’t know about this specific situation, though, because I can’t swim...)

37. Would you rather be hurt by the one you trust the most or the one you love the most? >> It’s people that I trust and love (those are the same thing, sorry, I don’t get how they can be separate *shrug*) that would have the best chance of hurting me, because of the emotional attachment...

38. Your best friend confesses that he/she has feelings for you more than just friendship. He/she is falling in love with you. What do you (or did you) do/say? >> ---

39. Think of the last person who you know that died. You have the chance to give them 1 hour of life back, but you have to give up one year of yours. Do you do it? Why or Why not? >> No, man, we went through this already in an earlier question. No matter how you present the circumstances, I’m not bringing anyone back from the dead, period.

40. Are you the kind of friend that you would want to have as a friend? >> Well, I don’t know???

41. Does love = sex? >> Inworld, it does, because that’s just how it works for Us.

42.Your boss tells your coworker that they have to let them go because of work shortage, and they are the newest employee. You have been there much longer. Your coworker has a family to support and no other means of income. Do you go to your boss and offer to leave the company? Why or Why not? >> ---

43.When was the last time you told someone HONESTLY how you felt regardless of how difficult it was for you to say? Who was it? What did you have to tell the person? >> I haven’t done that in a long time, idk.

44. What would be (or what was) harder for you to tell a member of the opposite sex, you love them or that you do not love them back? >> I think the “I don’t love you back” conversation would be way harder, lmao. People get really upset about that sort of thing.

45. What do you think would be the hardest thing for you to give up? Why would it be hard to lose? >> *shrug*??

46. Excluding romantic love, when was the last time you told someone you loved them. Who were they to you? >> ---

47. If there was one moment and one time in the last month what would you change and why? >> No.

48.Imagine it is a dark night, you are alone, it is raining outside, you hear someone walking around outside your window. WHO do you wish was there with you? >> My apartment is on the third floor... my biggest concern would be “how the fuck is this person walking on air???” I don’t know why I’d want anyone in particular with me -- why, so we can both be killed by this apparent superhuman? lmao.

49. Would you give a homeless person CPR if they were dying? Why or Why not? >> If I felt confident in my ability to perform CPR, I might. I think it’s mostly the fear that I’m going to do it wrong and... idk, kill the person quicker? that would prevent me from doing it. It does sound vaguely irrational when I write it out like that, but hey.

50.You are holding onto your grandmother’s hand and the hand of a newborn that you do not know as they hang over the edge of a cliff. You have to let one go to save the other. Who do you let fall to their death? What was your rationale for making the decision? >> ---

51. Are you old fashioned? >> No.

52. When was the last time you were nice to someone and did NOT expect anything in return for it? >> I’m not “nice to” people. I just treat people with basic respect and consideration, and of course I expect that in return...

53.Which would you choose, true love with a guarantee of a broken heart, or never loved at all? Why? >> ---

54.If you could do anything or wish anything, what would it be? >> ---

55. What was the last thing you ate? >> A few toasted vanilla Smashmallows.

56. What kind of guys are you usually attracted to? >> ---

57. What’s the stupidest thing that’s happened to you that ended a friendship? >> I don’t think any of the things that ended my friendships were stupid. It just sucked.

58. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve had sex for? >> Inworld, probably... an hour and a half, maybe 2 hours? Outworld, I don’t remember or care.

59. What reality shows do you watch? >> I don’t think I watch any. I’m trying to think if anything I’ve watched on purpose qualifies as “reality” and I... don’t think so? Untold Stores of the ER is basically just dramatisations of allegedly-real stories, so maybe that’s the closest thing to reality tv that I watch? Man, I do love that show. Oh, wait, those cooking shows! Those are reality TV, right? Okay, yeah, I watch stuff like that.

60. Post a video of yourself here: >> No.

61. Where do you work? >> ---

62. Have you ever gone up to a car thinking it was yours and tried to get in it? >> ---

63. Where do you buy most of your clothes? >> I don’t have a designated place where I buy most of my clothes. I shop for clothes so infrequently that it’s really just “wherever has the specific item that I want”.

64. If you were very intelligent and had the capability to have any profession, what would you like to be? Getting tired of the unrealistic hypotheticals. <-- My constant mood with surveys.

65. What’s your most irrational fear? >> ---

66. How many radio stations do you listen to? >> Zero.

67. What kind of music do they have? >> ---

68. Would you rather go to Greece or Hawaii? >> Oh, but I would go to either...

69. Musicals: Yay or Nay? >> Yay :)

70. What are the next concerts you’ll be going to? >> Ha! Hilarious.

71. What was the last conversation you had with your best friend about? >> ---

72. Are you one of those people that LOVE to hug others? >> Inworld I will spend all day cuddling if I can. Outworld, I legitimately cannot remember the last time I initiated a hug with someone. It’s been years.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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doctorcolubra · 5 years ago

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How about Eleanora or the Fall of the House of Usher for Jarrich? (Fluffy or no, I'm interested in what you do with these!!)

I say that I want to write drabbles or ficlets and then end up with almost 3K, typical. I really want to get better at short-form stuff (still taking prompts if anyone wants to send more).

I’m in a haunted house mood for fall so here’s Fall of the House of Usher!

_____________

Richard doesn’t like driving, or at least he doesn’t like traffic. The hostility, the birds flipped, the goddamn honking. He’s doing okay out here in the country, on empty roads where no one can take offense at his speed, his signalling, his sloppy lane changes or his occasional hasty U-turns. Jared’s in the passenger’s seat, asleep. Collar askew, hair windblown, lips parted—keep your eyes on the road, Hendricks.They’re driving back to Palo Alto from the Central Sierra Audobon Society Birders’ Convention. “I was going to be Muriel’s plus-one,” Jared had said one day last week. “But I suppose I can go alone. I have my safety whistle.”“For what, bears?”

“Of course. With black bears, your best strategy is to stand your ground, if you’ll forgive an expression sadly tainted by the legal system. You make yourself look as big as you can.” Jared held his arms out wide, hands in his raincoat pockets to make his skinny frame broader. “And that’s where the whistle comes in. Noise frightens the bear off. Those same tactics would probably get you killed if you ever met a grizzly, though,” he added. “But you won’t. In spite of what the state flag would have you believe, the last grizzly bear in California was shot in the ‘20s.”

“Where is this place?” Richard said, and then: “Don’t go alone, for fuck’s sake. Can I go? With you, I mean?”

“Richard…” Jared lit up. “Oh, I would love to take you. But I couldn’t possibly take you away from—you have so many things to think of…”Even Jared couldn’t quite pretend that Richard is still a busy CEO.So they did BirdCon. Richard was wondering if he needed glasses or whether he was just bad at this hobby, because Jared and the other birders kept losing their minds over woodpeckers, warblers, flycatchers, sparrows, raptors and vireos. Richard, once, correctly identified a squirrel. Jared drove here, anyway, so Richard’s returning the favour on the way home.And he’s not lost. He’s not. He’s supposed to be in some town called Confidence on the edge of Yosemite Park, and follow the highway from there to Modesto, and from there he can figure his business out.The Google Maps lady has been giving suspicious instructions for awhile now, though, and Richard doesn’t think he’s anywhere close to Confidence. Which, ha ha, super funny. He’s on a stretch of road that’s…well, not desolate. It’s pretty. Hills, grass, trees. Whatever. But he’s trying to figure out if Google Maps Lady is on the level, and the land around them doesn’t hold any clues.When a cop car rolls up behind him, he’s almost relieved. (Almost. He’s sweating a lot.) Jared jerks awake while Richard fumbles with the window switch.The stocky, brown-skinned cop bends to the window. “You boys looking for the casino?”“Wh—no,” Richard says. They couldn’t have blundered into Nevada somehow. Right? No, absolutely not. “We’re…are we near Confidence? The town, I mean?”“You’re on Miwok tribal land,” says the cop. “Tuolumne Rancheria.”“Oh.” Richard has no clue where that is in relation to Confidence, Yosemite, Modesto, or Palo Alto. Fucking Google. “Um, sorry. Are we allowed to—we shouldn’t be here, right?”The cop avoids a complicated question of colonialism. “You’re not in trouble, just thought you might be lost. Casino’s down that way. Where you coming from, Jamestown?”“We were up in Yosemite, for—for BirdCon—and we were supposed to pass through Sugarpine and then Confidence,” Richard says, disconnecting his phone from the cord and showing the officer the screen. “The GPS voice kept saying to stay on 108, and I was doing that, and then the road turned into the E17…”The cop looks at Richard’s phone and chuckles. “You’re real lost, wow. I don’t even know how you did that.”Between the two of them, they determine that Richard had made some catastrophic error while typing the address into GPS, and Maps is now trying to send them to Confidence, New Mexico. Richard is indignant—the one thing he wouldn’t fuck up is data entry—and blames Google’s shoddy user interface and aggressive auto-correct.“Yeah, maybe,” says the cop with a shrug. “But you’re still going the wrong way.”“Oh,” Jared says suddenly, softly, looking ahead. He’s been quiet and bleary from taking an extra allergy pill, but now the haze has lifted. “Oh, no, I know just where we are.”Richard turns back to look at him. “You do?”“I used to live near here. For awhile. Not on the reservation, naturally. But I know this road. Thank you, officer, we’ll be fine from here,” says Jared to the tribal cop, who wishes them goodnight and heads back to his truck.“You don’t have to drive,” Richard says, plugging his phone back in. “My fuck-up, I got it taken care of.”“No, not at all—I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, Richard.” Jared is straightening his collar, brushing his dark hair back into place with his fingers. “I should have stayed awake to navigate—”“Come on. It’s the end of the day, it’s my turn.”“Okay. But could we…no, that’s self-indulgent of me…”“What?”“I think—I think I might like to drive past the house. If it wouldn’t take us too far out of our way. We don’t have to stop, even, but…” Jared trails off, looking out the window at the hills. “Only if there’s time. I’m sure there��s not.”“There’s lots of time, now that we’re not…going to fuckin’ New Mexico. Just—point me where we’re going, it’s okay,” Richard says. Muriel would have stopped for Jared. “We’ll take a look.”The house is low and white and dead, like a broken eggshell lying amid the trees. Peeling paint, windows boarded, a child’s plastic car lying sun-bleached on its side, no cars in the gravel driveway. Jared doesn’t seem disappointed—in fact, he’s quietly elated. “It’s empty,” he says in wonder, staring out the window. “It’s all empty.”“That’s…too bad,” Richard says, but he’s guessing. “Is it? Did you like this place?”“No,” Jared says, the way he always says these things. Light, soft, without rancour. He hasn’t looked away from the shabby house in the trees. “I didn’t at all. Could we—no, I’ve already taken us out of our way…”“You want to get a closer look?”“Maybe. Yes. For a minute or two, Richard, not long.”The grass is knee-high around the front yard, where the trees clear, and Richard can see glimpses of weeds out back that would come up to his shoulders. He’s picking his way carefully toward the door, convinced that he’ll step on a snake at any minute. Poisonous snakes. He’ll get bitten. Richard is not mentally or spiritually equipped to be bitten by a snake, it’s haunted his nightmares ever since he was a reluctant Boy Scout in Tulsa. He’ll end up in the hospital being laughed at by that goddamn doctor. Then a painful death, then—“The door’s off its hinges,” Jared says. “We could go inside.”“Is that safe?” Part of Richard wants to shake Jared out of this reverie: don’t look at this, don’t remember, don’t get lost. But he knows that if he did, Jared would apologise profusely and never mention the house again. And that’s bad, Richard knows. Because something bad must have happened here. “Are you okay with this, man? We don’t have to go in. I mean, I will. I know you came to check out Peter Gregory’s stuff with me, so. Fair’s fair. But…I’m not trying to—to talk you out of it, unless…like, unless you want me to talk you out of it?”Jared has opened his backpack (practical, pristine, everything tucked in orderly pockets) to get out his flashlight. But he looks back at Richard and smiles. “It’s funny,” he says. “I barely remember the year I lived here. The brain is an amazing organ—there we are…” The flashlight’s blue-white glow shivers over the front hall of the house. “Hello? Anyone here?”Silence. The flashlight’s a necessity, but there’s still some sunlight streaming in from outside, and that’s all that’s holding Richard together. It’s not dark yet, but as Bob Dylan said, it’s getting there. Everything’s dusty. Good thing Jared’s already popped an allergy pill.Richard follows Jared, using his phone for more light, looking at the time capsule of a house. Harvest gold and avocado kitchen, landline phone on the wall with its cord a cramped spiral tangle. Warped bookshelves disgorging hoarded piles of magazines. Someone must have tried to clean the place before giving up: there are garbage bags and boxes everywhere, Pine-Sol and Febreze bottles, mops and brooms at rest in the corners. The ceilings are water-stained and in places the paint has buckled away from the wall, bubbling outward in layers that Richard instinctively wants to peel away.“What are we looking for?” he asks Jared.“Nothing,” Jared says, tentatively pushing open a half-closed bedroom door. A teenage girl’s room, walls papered with Tiger Beat and Big Bopper pages. Jonathan Brandis, the Hanson boys, Leo in his salad days, young and green. (Richard knows too much about magazines from this era. But that’s another story.) “Nothing special—oh, Richard, don’t look so frightened, please. We can go back to the car.”“No,” Richard says, stubborn now. “Not until you’re done with…this. Closure. Right? That’s what this is. Isn’t it?”“Maybe part of the process of closure, yes.” Jared moves to the next bedroom door. “This wasn’t the worst place I ever lived. I think I was relieved to get here. It felt safe, safer. Back then. The Alguires were strict, but they didn’t hurt me. Just…I’ve forgotten so much about living here. If you’d asked me yesterday to list all the homes I’ve ever had, I would’ve left this one off the list. But I was here for almost a year. Eleven months, I think.”“How old were you?”“Ten.”“I don’t remember ten either, really,” says Richard, staying in the teen girl’s room and raising his voice a little to be heard. “I mean I know where I was and what I was doing. We never moved, same house in Tulsa all my life. But I don’t remember being ten. It sucked, I know that.”“How come?”“School.” Richard used to rage over this, why did they do it, what was wrong with me, but in Palo Alto everyone else had a similar story, and he got over it. Kinda. “Everyone hated me.”“They just weren’t ready for you,” comes Jared’s voice from the other room, as inexplicably fond as always. “The solitary genius.”Sometimes Richard’s not sure if Jared’s making fun of him or not. Who could actually believe this stuff? What would it even be like to be so earnest? Terrifying, Richard thinks.He’s afraid that somewhere in this house they’ll find something really dark: chains and shackles on a radiator, or a potty chair in a locked closet. The house is depressing, but in an ordinary way. The former inhabitants must have verged on clinical hoarding, but the situation wasn’t bad enough to get on TLC. Just a particularly good archaeological record of the early ‘90s.Richard makes his way further down the hall, still on the lookout for snakes. It’s darker, and then, suddenly, brighter—the back door is gone, open to the audience of Sonora pines. Shafts of slow gold afternoon sunlight break through into the dark little house, nurturing a tidepool of vegetation. Moss is spreading across the rotting wooden floorboards, with leggy weeds crowding in the brightest spots. Tiny green tendrils trace paths from the shadows into the light, breaking into full leaf where the sun hits. The air smells damp, fresh, alive when everything else in this house seems dead. Flourishing.He wanders back to find Jared in the other bedroom. Jared’s poking through a big Rubbermaid tub that seems to be full of toys: headless Barbies and uncanny baby dolls, loose Lego, die-cast cars, green plastic army men, neon water pistols empty of their charges.But then a look of recognition breaks over his face and he reaches in to pull out a recorder, still in its blue plastic sleeve, a sheet of music folded inside.“Mrs. Alguire hated noise,” Jared says. “This was her house, the year I lived here. She used to confiscate inappropriate toys. I don’t mean to say she was unkind—she was a step up from my aunt’s place. But she did like silence. And I…” He slides the recorder out of its plastic sleeve. “I always wanted to play an instrument, or—when I got to Vassar I was allowed to sing. I liked that. But one day I found this in the inappropriate toys box. Even if I couldn’t make music, I thought…I thought I could make noise. Maybe somebody would notice if I was loud. I don’t know what I wanted them to notice. I was already getting as much help as anyone could give me.”“Not enough.” Richard is beside him, digging through the Rubbermaid tub too, examining the Barbies and the Hot Wheels and all the other miscellanea in the pile. “I had one of those plastic recorders for about three days,” he says. “My parents took it away too. Not that—I mean, it’s not the same as your thing.”“Well, some adult reactions become more sympathetic as we get older.” Jared polishes the dust off the recorder with a clean tissue from his pocket. “But the recorder was a very important part of early music, you know. Some beautiful airs were written for it. No instrument sounds very pleasant when it’s made of plastic and costs a dollar.”“Yeah, true.” Richard fishes the sheet music out of the recorder’s sleeve and unfurls it, skimming the notes. He has no talent himself, something he discovered from the childhood piano lessons that he got and Jared didn’t. “‘Early One Morning’—oh, I remember this from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer…”Jared laughs. “You’re so cultured, Richard.”“Okay, that, right there, that was making fun of me,” Richard says—he’s grinning, not even mad, just relieved that he finally caught Jared just teasing him for being an idiot, the way a normal person would. “You know goddamn well that’s not cultured.”“I would never judge you for—”“You should, though, Jared. You should judge the hell out of me. For everything.” Richard bumps his arm gently against Jared’s, one of the few tactile gestures of friendliness that he’s learned how to use properly. “You’re gonna blast some ‘Early One Morning’ right now, aren’t you?”“I shouldn’t.”“It’s your moment, c’mon.” Richard likes to tempt Jared—sometimes to make him do things he needs to do for his own good, sometimes for more selfish reasons. To enjoy Jared’s purity, and to feel it crumble. “We’re a million miles away from anything. You’re not gonna bother anybody.”“Well…” Jared looks down at the recorder in his hands and smiles. “A little bit. Okay.”They walk out into the sprouting back hall, over the crumbling floors, where the weeds are winning in the sun. Richard gets his phone earbuds out of his pocket and puts them in as makeshift earplugs.Jared takes a deep breath and blows the recorder like a shofar, a raucous high-pitched whistle. Not playing any note in particular, just blasting it as loud as he possibly can, with all the air in his lungs. Not music, only noise. Serious noise. Richard can hear it even through his earbuds. It echoes through the pines, loud enough to frighten off a black bear.It’s a silly, childish sound—it brings back memories for Richard too. He used to annoy his parents with plastic recorders and cheap harmonicas and the repetitive sounds of Bach’s French Suite No. 3 by way of Tetris on his GameBoy. He’d had the freedom to bug people without having to worry about whether he might lose the roof over his head for it.When Jared stops, he looks satisfied for a brief moment, then guilty. “I feel so foolish,” he says. “I don’t know what I was expecting. We came so far out of our way just for that.”“You were trying to remember and you did. And we’d already gone out of our way, right?” Richard smiles at him. “I was trying to take us to Confidence, New Mexico. I’m the foolish one here, I’m Boo Boo the Fool.”“Never.” Jared reaches out for Richard, almost aimless: straightening one of the strings on his hoodie, fingers brushing over Richard’s shoulder.Jared starts to say something, and Richard is afraid that it’s thank you, which is bullshit—I’ve given him nothing, I’ve done nothing but take—so he leans in to wrap an arm awkwardly around Jared’s waist. “Let’s go home.

#fic prompts #silicon valley #sv fic #jarrich #my writing #allthefilmsiveseenforfree #I figure this is after Muriel’s funeral but before PiperNet gets kicking again

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spirit-of-the-void · 6 years ago

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Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 18

Author’s notes: Things are getting fun, kids. Sorry again for the weekend uploads but i’m in hell

Chapter 18

You needed to catch up with Dante.

That was the only order of business now that everything was said and done. You were the first to pull away from V, heart aching and brain going into focused mode. Time to get yourself together. V needed someone level and strong, someone to help him through this. You looked into his jade eyes as you came to your feet, pulling him up with a low huff from you both. He was looking normal again, sure, but you needed to be observing him at all times. How long would the decay last before he eventually faded away? Would there be a point where your energy stopped being able to help him? So many questions, swirling around your skull. You couldn’t focus on them now, not yet, not when there was so much to do and everything was so fresh.

Deep breathes, eyes forward. You had done this before, so many times in times of panic and dread. The fear would always be there, but now was the time to rise above it and keep your feet treading.

The knowledge was still a wound on your soul, but it wasn’t like you didn’t have plenty of those. You could tell V was worried, more so for you than him. Your tears were gone, but your anxiety was plain on your face as you summoned your bag, pulling out some food for you and the poet to eat while you walked. Things high in sugars for you, whatever could bring the most energy. If it came down to it, you didn’t want to invoke your Deity again, but you would do it if it meant getting to the Qliphoth faster. V wouldn’t like that, but his health was held over yours now. Everything was about timing, precision and choice making as you neared the massive tree.

You quickly ate a few peanut butter bars, absorbing back the bag just as V finished off a piece of fruit. He ate it as quickly as he was able, but you got the sense he wasn’t feeling too hot. Your own stomach didn’t like food on it either, but you were willing to force it when it was so needed.

“We should use Shadow to travel from here on out,” V commented, tone low and shockingly calm after everything that had happened. He was leaning heavily on his cane, eyeing the big cat as it walked laps around you all, "We can cover more ground that way.”

You still felt strange about it, but you still nodded at his request, crouching down to meet Shadow’s eyes. The mighty creature lifted its head to bump yours, purring loudly enough that you were sure the others could hear it too. Precious, and so very good. Shadow could definitely sense you were upset, doing their best to offer comfort in their own way.

You kissed the black snout, standing back up and smiling a bit more. V was obviously correct--if you wanted to catch up with Dante, Shadow was the way to do it. You need to save energy anyway, and the journey would give you some moments to recharge.

“Let’s do it.” You replied, taking a deep breath and taking a few steps toward V.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing your face to his back like you did once before on your journey. Through the sewers, when you first saw this ability. So much had changed in that short time, it felt like it had been years ago. Less holding onto V now, more embracing him than anything. His solidity made you feel a bit better about everything, his heart beat steady when you slid your fingers up his chest.

He sucked in a short breath, tapping his cane once on the ground to summon Shadow back. The mighty cat turned into a cloud of black, settling under your feet and V’s once more. Barely noticeable, but their physicality existed under your boots. That much you could tell. As for Griffon, he let out a light huff, immediately summoning back to his master and darkening his tattoos. You and the poet, technically alone again. It felt so strange now, making you ache inside.

You had made love to him in the night. He had felt so complete, so whole. You hoped the activities hadn’t been uncomfortable for him, or straining.

Regardless, he started forward. Cane tipped and sending you both speeding along through the landscape. Wind whipped past you, making you close your eyes and hair whip slightly. This was faster than the first time, you could tell. Was that Shadow moving you more, or V? You couldn't tell, but there was an urgency in the traveling now. You hardly looked at the landscape, already knowing what you would see. More destruction, more decay. It was getting to you a lot more than usual, heart aching and heavy from the days events.

You tried to focus on V. His scent, his body shifting under your hands, the way his ebony hair moved in the wind. He felt warm...alive. You told yourself that over and over. He wasn't dead, not yet—and you would never let him reach that point. There was so much life in his body and hope did exist. You were determined to stay strong for the both of you, but you knew V had been driven from the start. But...there was a sadness in his eyes now, one that you saw every time he turned back to glance at you.

Was he already convinced he wasn’t going to make it?

“V?” You murmured, voice barely heard above the sound of Shadow at your feet, and the wind moving past.

He paused, his free hand coming to rest on yours clasped around his middle.

“Yes, darling?” He murmured, turning his head a bit to glance at you with those jade eyes, "What’s on your mind, my sparrow?”

You closed your eyes again, focusing on how his deep voice rumbled under your ear. That alone was a comfort, his nickname for you making you so warm inside.

“Does...Does Nero know that something is wrong?” You said as audibly as you could manage, “Or...am I the only one other than Dante who knows?”

V let out a sigh, turning his head away, "Nero doesn't know...not yet," He paused, voice taking on a guilty tone as he added, "Forgive me for...how I spoke of Nero earlier. You were right to chastise us for it.”

You sighed a bit, remembering that you did in fact stand up heavily for the white-haired boy. It just upset you a lot when they belittled him for nothing, or downplayed his strength. You had no idea why everyone had it out for Nero, but he had been nothing but kind to you.

“He’s doing his best, you know?” You replied, lifting up your head to stare at the back of V’s head, “He’s got no family in his life to believe in him, so someone has to. Mind you, he has Kyrie and Nico. But judging by the way he talks about Dante...he looks up to him. And hearing him say stuff like that pissed me off on his behalf.”

V went a bit quiet at that, but you couldn’t see his face or the expression he wore.

“Nero is...still young,” He finally said, hesitantly though. Like he was testing the waters of the conversation, “Before you came along, he was the only one I felt I could truly trust with anything.”

You nodded at that, but felt a bit confused. He hired Dante for this mission, but still felt like he couldn’t trust him? According to Nero, Trish and Lady were hired too. That means despite having all three powerhouses, V still went out of his way to seek out Nero and include him on the mission. It made sense as for why the boy was friendly with V. He wanted to be included, wanted someone to believe in him and have hope in his abilities. Which V seemed to up until talking to Dante, where he seemed to change his tune.

Why that was the case, you didn’t...understand. It was like he was trying to put a fire under Dante’s feet, saying whatever he thought would motivate the demon hunter.

And going to save Nero was a motivation.

In retrospect, it felt like it was less of Dante not believing in Nero, and more of...he was protecting him from something. But what? The danger was equal for everyone on this mission, sure, but there was a better chance at victory if everyone used their skills to take the demon on. Dante seemed determined for Nero to not even do that, to not fight the monster at all. You couldn’t place your finger on why, but you definitely wanted to talk to Dante about it. Hell, you needed to talk to him about a lot of things.

“As it stands, you’re the one who believed in Nero enough to keep him on this mission,” You murmured to V, leaning your head on his back again, “I bet he looks up to you too. Stuff like that seems to mean a lot to him. And now...I think I’m realizing Dante doesn’t really have anything against Nero either, does he?”

V let out a low hum, his voice just loud enough to hear as he muttered, “I don’t believe so.”

“Now I feel bad for scolding you both,” You sighed, closing your eyes and letting out a low groan, “I’ve made a terrible first impression.”

V chuckled lightly at that, stroking his fingers lightly over yours as he turned you around some debris, “I wouldn’t say so. Dante is the type to like guts, and you’ve certainly shown that. After everyone building him up the past few days you did not hesitate once to stand up for Nero, and that is admirable in itself.”

His praise always made you feel so warm. It was too bad everything was now tempered with that overwhelming panic.

You squeezed V a bit tighter at the thought, your smile fading back to a look of quiet concern. V could feel your change in mood, shifting his hand so his fingers threaded with yours. Warmth, solidity. A reminder.

“We will make it,” You murmured, more to yourself than him, “I...I know what it feels like to die. And I don’t want you to go through that.” Not now, not ever.

Admitting that was like a punch to your gut, and the thing punching you was anxiety and fear. You felt V’s breath catch, his fingers squeezing yours a bit tighter as the wind rushed by. What could possibly be going through his head? You wished you could see his face, wished you could even begin to read his expression. V was so important to you, so necessary. The idea of him suffering was hurting you inside. You had been through so much, you spent so much time in pain that it was routine for you. Something to accept and expect, to grit your teeth and live through. V deserved better, he deserved everything and more.

“No dying for you, either,” V whispered, his tone barely heard. But you managed anyway, looking up at his ebony hair in surprise, “Promise me, Sparrow. No more deaths for you, not this time. Even if I don’t make it, you will live for us both.”

Gods, why would he make you promise something that hurt so much?

You had already resigned yourself to that fate, already knew that if you were to lose him that you wanted to live with the pain. It was your punishment, your necessity. Your reminder. But hearing him tell you what you already thought...it made your heart ache, knowing he was so prepared to not make it. The way he worded it too...it made it sound like he knew how many times you had died, and how much the sensations haunted you. You mind bounced back to the nightmare from the previous night, the one you couldn’t remember. Something told you that your words in that dream let on more than V was telling you.

And that was okay.

“It won’t come to that,” You whispered back, holding him a little tighter, “But...I’ll make any promise I need to you.”

V went quiet again, but you could sense an air of relief around him. One that made your heart ache.

Still, you traveled along the same path Dante had blazed before you. Evidence showed he had most certainly paved along first. Scorch marks on the ground, the scrapes of claws and blades—he had ripped through the demons further along easily, leaving practically no trace. But you knew better.

Generally, your Foresight would flare every few moments, your group stopping for attacks then starting onward again. But christ, Dante had cleared the way for you all. Not a single creature popped out, which cut your travel time in half as you and the poet sped along. You could catch up to the demon hunter this way, that was for certain. As for you, it gave you a chance to regain some energy, body relaxing and Void powers swirling gently inside. Hell, you were sure you dozed off at some point—how you managed to stay upright you would never know.

The day’s events and exhaustion had caught up to you fast, making you weary. You didn’t know how long you slept, but V certainly didn’t complain. You awoke still wrapped around his back, eyelids drooping as you registered air still moving past you both. Your legs felt a bit stiff from your actions, but you felt like you had resorted to sleeping standing up before. You stretched one, then the other, making sure not to lose your balance. This was a good thing, you told yourself. Much needed energy was back, replenished, ready to use if needed. You quickly looked at V, peeking around him at his hands to check and make sure he wasn’t cracking again yet.

From what you saw, he wasn’t. But his face was a bit pale when he looked back at you, a tired smile curving his lips.

“Welcome back,” He murmured, slowing down a bit so you could hear him, “How are you feeling?”

You let out a little huff at that, stretching up so you could kiss his cheek, “I should be asking you that. We can stop and rest, you don’t look well.”

He shook his head no immediately, giving your hand a squeeze and tilting his cane forward to go faster, “No, we can’t afford to wait...I can sense we are close to Dante. It’s a chance we can’t lose.”

“V...” Your tone was filled with distress, hands squeezing him tighter as your eyes threatened to burn with tears, “Are you sure about that?”

He nodded, still staring forward as he replied, “We keep moving. The faster we reach the tree the faster this conflict is resolved.”

You frowned, worried and troubled at his no-nonsense tone. He was definitely in a mindset that could not be swayed, one that made you very uneasy. This was not the time to take risks, and the day was still young. And by that, it seemed to be the afternoon, the sun was still out in the sky behind those clouds.

You had made good progress with V for all the fighting and stopping, and Dante’s clearing of demons was making it even easier to make haste now. Close, so close. The tree was within range enough to smell its awful stench, the landscape covered in demonic flesh and destroyed buildings. You were still on what appeared to be an abandoned road, the black asphalt underneath you covered in blood. Disgustingly so.

Regardless, you fell silent, not wanting to argue with V when he was so convinced. You wanted to think he knew best, wanted to trust his judgement. He was so important to you, so crucial. If it reached a point where his judgement was obviously failing and leading to a bad outcome, you would assert yourself when needed.

To top all of this off, your Foresight was strangely quiet in regards to him. You would think that someone so important to you would cause it to be tipped—which actions would save him and which wouldn’t? You had thought V was imperative to this world’s fate since you felt good about going with him in the beginning, but the way your Foresight was acting...it was like there was nothing you would do that changed anything. And that made no sense.

It was bothering you. But you didn’t have long to focus on that.

The sounds of fighting approached steadily, punctuated by the sound of a motorcycle. Was that the sound you were hearing? You couldn’t be sure.

You blinked, exchanging a look with the poet before he pressed forward. That had to be Dante, there was no way anyone else could be this close to the tree. V hopped off of Shadow once you both reached a place where the Earth was cracked, a wall of debris forcing you to climb. You wasted no time, wrapping your tendrils around both V and yourself to scale the leap in a single bound. Your muscles felt well worked now, power rolling and toiling in a familiar burn with each movement. It was clear to you right away that your limits had been increased a bit, that sensation of the Void was growing in intensity. It was unfortunate that your energy needed to be saved now, but you would prefer being ready and at your peak for him over using flashy abilities any day.

V was first priority, that was all you could focus on.

You reached the top of the street just in enough time to see Dante skidding to a halt on...was that a motorcycle? You thought you had heard one, but now it was definitely confirmed. Dante was riding a glowing motorcycle, the obvious makings of a battle in the road around him. Where the hell had he gotten a magic motorcycle...and why? It also looked like he was holding a nude, blonde haired woman in his arms as well. What in the world had you missed? You had arrived in enough time to see the horseman from earlier crumbling to pieces, finally taken down by Dante of all people. But now...

Realization clicked into place seeing the new girl. Holy shit. Had she been inside the horseman? Dante had two friends who had gone missing, Trish and Lady, and Lady popped out of a demon days ago. So, that...definitely had to be Trish, which only made another realization click in place. Christ, you could have killed her on accident the other day, when you stabbed the demon with your tendrils. She was inside, she was alive inside the demon and you had no idea.

You blinked, paling a bit as you remembered every place you had impaled. Had you been a little bit closer to the middle...you would have stabbed her. You hoped no more demons were secretly housing people inside, because otherwise how were you supposed to attack?

While you looked shocked, V was pretty used to the situation at hand. He seemed more so relieved at Dante still being here. You both stopped, examining the scene as the poet leaned heavily on his cane—fuck, he was definitely not looking good again. He was out of breath like before, just from walking a bit without Shadow.

You worriedly tried to wrap your tendrils around him, but he skewered you with a look that clearly said “no”. You immediately froze, heart pounding with worry as you met his jade gaze. He rose a hand in a pausing motion, softening his expression as he turned to look back at Dante. Not yet, no energy yet. Wait for when it mattered. Too bad for him that any and all fatigue mattered to you.

You heard Dante speak quietly, so quietly only Trish should have been able to hear. But with your Void power activated you easily made it out.

“Whoa, looks like I took in a bit too much,” His tone was joking, face hidden as he looked down at her. His voice shifted, going even lower as he murmured to her, “You okay?”

That made your opinions of his shift. There was caring in that tone, genuine concern.

She let out a low sound of pain, replying dryly, “I’ve been better.”

He lifted her into his arms, setting her gently onto the ground with a low sigh. She immediately opened her eyes, adding urgently, “Dante, that demon is—”

“Don’t even think about it,” He replied, holding up his hands and giving her a light smile now that you could see his face, “Just rest.”

Well now. That was certainly an interesting shift from the usual, laid back non-caring tone you had heard from him before. The devil hunter was truly an enigma, something you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around.

“Dante...!” V yelled, snapping you out of your racing thoughts as he started forward, moving as fast as he could in his state. You blinked, realizing Dante was in the process of getting back on that motorcycle, definitely about to leave as V yelled again, “Wait...!”

Son of a bitch, not more chasing him down.

You went to activate your tendrils, but V falling to the ground again stopped you. He collapsed, letting out a strained grunt as his cane clattered out of his hands. You felt like your heart was going to be split in two, crouching down next to him and wrapping your arms around him to pull him up. Bad bad, this was bad. He was panting again, deathly pale as he met your worried gaze.

You heard the sound of Dante revving his motorcycle, making you both look up at him. Was he really going to leave again? It was so unbelievably frustrating, your heart pounding faster in anger now as his gaze turned to look back at you and the poet. Again...you thought you saw concern there for a second, but it disappeared faster than you could read it.

“Take care of Trish for me...!” Dante called, giving a two-finger salute before rearing back on the bike, speeding away over some debris and out of sight.

You let out a curse, standing once more and wrapping your tendrils around V.

“From the Void, Into You,” You muttered, ignoring V’s protests once you saw the cracking forming on his hands again. No more waiting, not when things were this dire, “You need this V, so just accept it. Please.”

He let out a low groan, his head dropping and ebony hair draping over his face. He summoned Griffon and Shadow in the next instant, Griffon letting out an indignant squawk and taking off after Dante without so much as a word. You wanted to protest that, but you honestly had no reason why Griffon shouldn’t go other than your own desire to keep the bird near. Shadow darted over to Trish’s nude body on the ground, the woman tilting her head and letting out a quiet grunt of pain.

Fuck, everything was chaos again. You focused on transferring energy to V, almost to the point of pain again before pulling away. You felt bad to put him through such discomfort, but he needed to be well enough to walk and stand.

He was panting in pain now that you were done, one of his hands reaching out to grip your arm as he breathed, “Go after Dante...!”

That made you stop in your tracks, confusion filling you as you whipped your gaze around to him.

“What? No!” You protested, tugging on his grasp a bit as you stared at his handsome face, “I’m not leaving you here...!”

“I’m holding you back,” V replied, straightening his spine and wincing as he put his other hand to your face, “You can move fast enough to stop him without me limping along. He can’t afford to keep doing this on his own.”

You shook your head again, fear and anxiety curling in your stomach like a ball. You couldn’t just leave him while he was in this state, crumbling and dying. No one else was there to help him, no one but you. The very idea of leaving his side sent a spiral of worry through your entire being, one that showed no sign of ending. What were you supposed to do? What V wanted or what V needed? Dante wasn’t going to listen anyway, not to you or anyone. But...maybe talking to him would help, to try and figure out if he knew a way to help V? It was grasping for straws, really, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“I...I can’t,” You whispered, holding his hand against your cheek as your eyes burned a bit, “I can’t leave you when you’re like this...who else is going to help you if you start crumbling again? You need me more than he does.” Please say you need me. Please.

V gave you a soft smile, those full lips mesmerizing as always as he smoothed a thumb over your cheekbones. You felt like he could tell exactly what you were thinking sometimes.

“I do need you,” He murmured, tugging you closer so he could kiss your forehead, “Which is why I’m asking you to follow him. I know I rely on you far too much, yet here I am asking more of you.”

You closed your eyes, heart pounding in your chest like fists on steel doors.

“Please,” You whispered, “I don’t want to take this risk.”

“You just gave me enough energy to last me a while,” V countered, lifting a hand and curling his fingers to emphasize his well-being. No cracking, not after the dose you had given him. But that wasn’t the point. He was deteriorating faster now, you knew that just by the short span of time in between the last time you gave him energy. But he still continued, “And you won’t be gone long. There is still plenty of time in the day, and I get the feeling Dante isn’t going far either. You will return to me sparrow; of that I have no doubts.”

You opened your eyes again to meet his jade ones, chest aching terribly at the pleading look he gave you. Damn it. God damn it, how were you supposed to do anything when he made an expression like that? One that said how much he needed and trusted you, that hurt so much you could hardly stand it. He was making it even harder to leave. You didn’t want to leave him. You griped the lining of his vest, pulling him close enough to press your lips to his.

This wasn’t you saying goodbye, you would never allow that. More of a promise, sealing the statement that you would be reunited with him before the day was out.

His lips were soft and warm, his slender fingers slipping into your hair to hold you for a moment while you shared that kiss. Your mouth opened only briefly to taste him before you pulled away, not wanting to allow anything too intense. Because then you truly wouldn’t be able to leave him.

V let out a slow breath, his eyes glinting with so many emotions as he stared at your upset face. For a moment, you thought you saw hesitation in his expression, but when he spoke his voice was firm.

“Go, sparrow,” He removed his hands from you, taking a step back and picking up his cane, “I’ll take care of Trish—meet us at the bottom of the tree if you can.”

You let out a frustrated groan, running your hands through your hair as you eyed Trish on the ground. You had almost forgotten about her entirely, which made you feel bad in the chaos in your head. Making haste, you summoned your bag, pulling out a blanket to toss it at V for him to use on her. It was the best you could manage; you knew that much. You also pulled out a vial of whale oil, handing that to him and skewering him with a firm gaze.

“Don’t lose that,” Your voice was a bit raw, tone shaken as you summoned your tendrils, "Whale oil is matter conceived of my Deity. As long as you have it, I can find you.”

V nodded once, tucking the material into his vest for safe keeping. You reached up and cupped his face again before he could stop you, pressing a kiss to his forehead and making him suck in a breath.You had to say it--the words were boiling inside you, seeking release in the state you were in. What if you didn’t meet him at the bottom of the tree? What if demons attacked? You couldn’t afford these thoughts, but they existed. They filled you with an urgency that wouldn’t go away.

They made you more honest.

“Be safe. I love you, V.” You whispered, before whipping your tendrils out and beginning your chase against the demon hunter.

You had said it, and you didn’t even get to see his reaction. You didn’t dare. But you felt like you needed to, because...

No, you wouldn’t think that he wasn’t going to make it.

You didn’t dare look at V’s face as you leapt away, because if you did you doubted you would be able to leave. Already the distance was making you ache terribly, the worry and fear combining into a driving force that only made you go faster. The quicker you reached Dante, the quicker you could drag his sorry ass back and return to the one who mattered to you. Tunnel vision was your existence now, focusing on a single goal. This was such a bad idea, but you didn’t know what else to do at that moment. Your foresight was telling you nothing, and there were definitely things you needed to discuss with Dante when you saw him alone.

But that didn’t stop the pain toiling in your chest.

(V POV)

Sending you away was the hardest thing he had ever done.

Seeing your form dart the same way Dante had gone, your tendrils whipping you around and arching gracefully over debris. You were a vision, beautiful and precise. Your hair flowing, body tilting like you had done this so many times before. Even as you disappeared from sight, V stared at where you were last, jade eyes filled with silent longing. He couldn’t feel this way, couldn’t regret sending you off when it was he who had insisted upon you going.

He truly was selfish, wasn’t he? Asking too much of you, making you go after Dante when he could tell just how much it scared and worried you. Then on top of everything else...he didn’t want you to go, wanted you by his side every waking moment. Your smile, your warmth, the feeling of your lips...he already missed it.

There was so much rattling around his skull. The guilt over his omission was still plaguing him, the look in your eyes when you saw his skin crumbling...It wouldn’t leave his mind. He never thought someone could ever care for him as much as you did. To see your expression unfold into fear, terror, and that heart breaking pain...Every lie he had told settled over him like weights, crushing him inside. There was so much he wanted to say, to do. But he couldn’t, and even after seeing how much it destroyed you he was still holding things back, hiding his truths to his chest like a shield. He wasn’t deserving of you, of your affections. And he hated himself for it.

Still, there were things that needed to be done, things more important than his self-loathing. He gripped his cane, setting about covering Trish’s body with the blanket. Careful not to look, of course. Of Dante’s friends she was the one who brought about the most discomfort. She looked just like...he shook his head, sitting down on a piece of debris and pulling out his book of poetry to read. He couldn't afford to think about that, to even compare the two. Trish seemed to have faded in and out of consciousness, so the poet wasn’t sure of how much she heard between you and him. Right now, she was out like a light, which was fine. V was prepared to wait—he knew it wouldn’t be long.

His eyes scanned the lines of text, body already beginning to ache despite the dose of energy you gave him. He knew he didn’t have much time, knew you could only hold back the inevitable so much. The goth regretted his lies to you, but...he didn’t want you to worry anymore. He knew the only outcomes to this conflict, as did Griffon. If he was successful in his quest to reach Urizen...you would still get hurt. More than hurt, it would crush you and he knew it. But what other choice did he have? Truly, he was the worst in regards to this. For once in his existence, he wished he could just leave this task. And find somewhere with you, somewhere quiet and calm away from all the white noise.

But he couldn’t. As much as those words you had spoken made him ache inside.

You had told him you loved him.

Your soft voice, filled with emotion whispering the words he didn’t know he needed to hear so badly. It was all he could think about, it filled his partial soul now more than anything ever had, so deeply personal and achingly wonderful. And worse...you didn’t give him the chance to say it back, leaving when his lips were parting with shock and emotion, his heart hurting terribly. He wanted to say it, wanted you to know just how much you mattered to him. It was his blessing and his curse now, and yours. It made him want to weep, to shout, to call you back to him. But you couldn’t. And he didn’t dare.

Instead he waited for Trish to wake up, his heart aching now that you weren’t near him. He didn’t have to wait long. The woman started stirring less than an hour later, sitting up and holding the blanket over her body. V barely spared a glance, keeping his eyes on his book as he waited for her to speak. Trish wasn’t an idiot by any stretch, she was smart and calculated from what V could tell. It helped him...disconnect from what she looked like, who she looked like.

His mind was in chaos in that moment, bouncing between you and his past memories on top of his already decaying form. His face never displayed it, expression calm as he flipped to another page he had already memorized. The poetry used to soothe him, but now...you were far more of a comfort that he needed.

When Trish finally spoke, it pulled him from his mind back into reality.

“Dante’s left...” She murmured, voice trailing off as she looked around. She didn’t sound surprised.

Still, V replied to her.

“Yes,” He said quietly, feeling her gaze quickly turn to look at him while he kept his gaze in the book, “And I don’t think he can win.”

Dante had already proven he couldn’t stand up to Urizen’s might, at least not without help. But the devil hunter was far too stubborn to change a damn thing. One of his aspects V hated.

Trish looked away when he spoke, her expression deeply troubled, “What was that demon, V? Where did it come from?” She looked back at his prone form with knowing eyes, her tone sounding deeply disturbed as she continued, "Urizen is not a demon. I know that for a fact, because I'm from the Underworld."

She paused, her expression taking on a slow look of realization as V continued to read his book. She was a smart woman, very knowledgeable when it came to demons and demonic items. It was only right and fair that she would be able to connect some dots where he was concerned, and realize he was no prim and proper human either. And it showed plainly on her face, those eyes looking right through him and his nonchalance.

“My god,” She muttered, wind making her hair drift lightly as she warily eyed the poet, “What are you, then?”

Ahh...the all-encompassing question, the one that everyone seemed so intent on asking. And when it came to her...he felt more inclined to answer. Maybe it was her knowledgeable look, or maybe it was the face she wore itself. How wouldn't he feel more trusting toward her when she looked just like—

“It doesn’t matter,” He replied, tone low and hollow as he gazed at the words in his book, seeing nothing but empty text, “I’m a shadow of my former self who lost everything.”

Trish looked away at his words, eyes wide and staring forward as several things seemed to click into place. Some people just needed to have all the answers, and she was no exception. You were similar in that way, always so curious and kind to him. But...it wasn’t the same. He welcomed your words, your knowledge, your heart. You never once looked at him with disgust or revulsion; what he was didn’t matter to you, only caring about his actions and his words over his species. Your ignorance was...part of what he knew would hurt you in the end. But right now, he couldn’t focus on that...because it only made his guilt grow, that self-loathing an all too familiar companion

V instead let out a low sigh, a bitter smile tilting his lips as he now leveled Trish with his jade gaze.

“I will tell you the story of my birth.”

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43933342

Like what you see? Consider buying me a coffee <3: https://ko-fi.com/E1E7GCMU

Tagged: @nightshadow4713 @silentwhispofhope @slightlylunatic @just-call-me-no-name @efiicitia @raven-huntress

#devil may cry v #devil may cry #dmc v #dmc5 #dmcv #V dmc #V x reader #v x self insert #fanfic #chapter 18 #Ebony and Ivory #ebony and ivory chapter 18

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superman86to99 · 5 years ago

Photo

Superman #81 (September 1993)

REIGN OF THE SUPERMEN! The secret origin of the Cyborg Superman! We find out that the genocidal robot guy posing as the dearly departed Supes is actually someone we've seen before -- a seemingly minor threat from the past, supposedly lost in the vastness of space. That's right, the Cyborg is in reality... freaking Psi-Phon and Dreadnaught.

No, not really. The Cyborg is none other than astronaut Hank Henshaw, the Reed Richards analogue from that "Fantastic Four, but they all die horribly" story in Adventures #466.

Two months after that, in Adventures #468, we found out that Hank's mind had survived by jumping into a LexCorp computer after his irradiated body fell apart. Hank builds himself a dorky new robot body, but unfortunately, his wife couldn't handle seeing him in that state and went catatonic... and died, too, apparently? Or at least Hank and his minions seem to think so. At this point, Hank decided to jump into Superman’s Kryptonian baby rocket and leave the Earth because his powers were messing with our satellites, and also to avoid being sued by the creators of Johnny-5.

Anyway, Hank traveled the universe for a while until he bumped into the little backwater planet currently ruled by Mongul, former leader of Warworld (last seen running away all the way back in Adventures #455). Hank basically zapped Mongul until the big yellow oaf agreed to become his lackey on his quest to get revenge on Superman for supposedly failing to save his fantastic friends. Upon finding out Superman was dead, however, Hank came up with another plan: using the DNA from the Kryptonian baby rocket to make himself a new body that looks like Superman and nuking the Earth's cities to ruin his good name.

Meanwhile, in Metropolis, the mysterious long-haired Superman in the black suit is having trouble convincing Lois, Lex Luthor Jr., Steel and Superboy that he's the real deal. For starters, he doesn't even have any powers. Lois looks more convinced after she and man in black share a (pretty familiar looking) kiss, but he can't use that same tactic on all the others. Eventually, he gets tired of all the arguing, grabs some flying boots from one of Lex's armored bodyguards, and says he's just gonna go stop the Cyborg and the others can join him if they want to. Superboy and Steel are like, "ugh, FINE, we'll go too." CONTINUED!

Character-Watch:

I’d be really interested in seeing a story about how, exactly, Hank started hating Superman. He still seemed pretty sane at the end of his last appearance, and left willingly to avoid interfering with the Earth’s communication systems. I guess the vastness of space drove him mad, but I’d still like to see his evolution from Sadder Reed Richards to Crazier Doctor Doom. My personal theory is that being inside LexCorp’s computers had something to do with it. Maybe some remnants from Brainiac’s mind (remember he also lived inside LexCorp at one point) combined with seeing Luthor’s secret porn stash drove Hank insane.

Also, we never actually saw his wife’s death (how did Hank find out about it, anyway?) and every comic book reader knows that if it didn’t happen on panel, it didn’t happen. So, I think another interesting Cyborg story would be Hank finding out she’s still alive, but her death is such a central part of his delusion that he refuses to believe it and maybe ends up killing her. (Call me, DC! I have a really good artist friend.)

Plotline-Watch:

Hank’s story is being told by two of his alien minions, a guy who looks like a lion crossed with an Ewok and a guy whose gonads are apparently hanging from his face, all 12 of them. Spin-off series, please.

There’s a brief update on the Eradicator’s state: he’s “healing well” at the Fortress of Solitude, but the Fortress robots are worried that he’ll be sad he missed Kal-El’s return in Metropolis.

The man in black references various moments from the Lois/Clark relationship to try to convince her that he’s telling the truth, like when they got engaged, when he came out as Superman, that time they had their little mountain talk, and, uh... something else. Don Sparrow wonders: “That rainy night in July when we first WHAT Clark? It wasn’t raining the night they first kissed. Hmmmmmm.” It was raining... Jose Delgado’s tears. (Also, funny that it was the “Fantastic Four” issue.)

Lois’ reluctance to believe that the man in black is Superman is understandable given that, as she points out, she’s gone through this four times already. The first thing that gets her to listen to him is when he says “To Kill a Mockingbird” -- which, as we learned in Superman #67, was Clark’s favorite movie. And then there’s the kiss, which is a hairier remake of the kiss they shared before he died in Superman #75.

How come Supergirl doesn’t join the Team Superman on their mission to stop the Cyborg? Because Lex Jr. didn’t give her permission, while calling her “my pet”. I’m starting to think their relationship isn’t that healthy.

Dan Jurgens is clearly a fan of Dave Gibbons’ take on Mongul in Alan Moore’s For the Man Who Has Everything...

...but the art department is Don Sparrow’s turf, so I’ll let just him talk about that and other stuff I missed in his section, after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

I love this issue. Starting with the cover, which lets us know in no uncertain terms that they’re no longer playing around—big things are happening. Besides being a great drawing, I love the relative silence of the image, and how it plays. When you see it, you just have to open it to find out what’s really going on, and whether the man himself might really be back. It’s such a good cover, that I can forgive it for the sleight of hand with the Tarzan hair, which for some reason they have been hiding in recent issues. [Max: I still think they had no idea he’d have long hair when they made these covers.]

Inside we’re greeted with another great splash (honestly, we’re in the peak era of the Jurgens and Breeding team here, as the next few issues of Superman are every bit as good as the Death storyline, visually, so it was hard for me not to scan every darn page!) and I love the different facial expressions here, with Lex and Lois having expressions of disbelief (though that disbelief is clearly motivated differently between the characters) to the determination and spunk of the Metropolis Kid to the cool authoritative detachment of the Man of Steel at the back.

More great body language on the next two page splash, as—to me-- Jurgens and Breeding convey, just with a pose, that the real Kal-El has returned. Though we’ll learn he’s mostly depowered (thanks to the Eradicator using Kal-El’s regeneration matrix as his own energy piggy-bank) he still holds himself with the confidence and invulnerability we expect from Superman. Am I reading too much into a single panel? Almost certainly. But man, this looks great.

There’s also some great character work from Lois throughout, and they draw her conflicted facial expressions really well, as she just can’t allow herself to hope that this really is what it appears to be—the love of her life, returned to her. I’m sure the Eradicator wearing his face for all these months can’t have helped either.

As we cut back to Engine City, we get another view of how amazingly this art team draws tech, followed immediately by possibly the most painful thing the Cyborg does in these pages—full force heat vision to Mongul’s junk. Ouch. Ok, maybe that’s not as bad as blowing up a whole city, or annihilating a handful of survivors, but still. [Max: He annihilated millions of Mongul’s future children.]

The flashback to the Cyborg Superman’s origins is cleverly delivered, thanks to the alien mercenary’s “pocket ‘puter”. The image of Henshaw reassembling himself (apparently into Johnny 5) is particularly well drawn, and deeply unnerving. There’s also a great image of the bored dissatisfied Mongul on the throne. I wonder if the alien he’s telling the story to minds his conquered planet being referred to as “simple” though.

As with the Engine City pages, Jurgens and Breeding excel at drawing technology, so the freaky dragon creature Henshaw into which converts Mongul’s ship is a great piece of art. The full page splash with Cyborg Superman in his current form is one of the better images of the character as well.

The heart of this issue, though, is the slow change in Lois, who has held on for so long without Clark by being tough. As Superman speaks to her about their life together, she is finally able to melt. As with earlier in the book, the emotions on her face are so well done in this transition.

I love the callback of their kiss, and how it mirrors the tender moment from Superman #75. And, in a storytelling device that they’d use again on shows like Smallville, it is the familiarity of his kiss that convinces her that it really is her fiancé. Goosebumps, man! This is beautiful, romantic stuff. And in true Superman fashion, he just can’t stand around and celebrate the reunion—there’s a job to do, and it falls to him to do it. More goosebumps. STRAY OBSERVATIONS

A recurring thing in these pages is the artists playing fast and loose with just how tall Steel is. Sure, he’s got the platform jet boots, but at times he is depicted as gigantic as his silver-screen counterpart, and other times he seems roughly as tall as anyone else. This issue veers into the gigantic.

I’m glad he’s back in any form, but it is a bit tough to see Superman wincing at being squeezed on the shoulder by Steel.

Yeesh, we get it, Henshaw’s team were supposed to be analogues for the Fantastic Four, you can stop using the word “fantastic” to remind us. The other hints at it were plenty.

Funny that even that long ago, a handheld computer was the stuff of science fiction, while today, you might be reading this on a “pocket computer” smaller and more powerful than the one the alien holds. [Max: And whilst sitting on the toilet.]

While it’s not the focus of the panel, when the Cyborg “forms the shape of a man” he sure looks a heck of a lot like the Ed Hannigan design of Brainiac from the 80s.

I love that Jurgens, knowing he’s picked up a lot of new readers with this storyline, makes it ULTRA easy to follow, even having the narrating alien say, “still not understand?” before recapping the recap from the previous pages.

I dig the slow burn on Lex Luthor II, and that his villainous nature is creeping out more and more. When he calls Supergirl his “pet”, it doesn’t sound affectionate, but literal here. [Max: Hey, when did Superboy get that Soder Cola? Does a soda vendor follow him around, like Homer Simpson and the hot dogs guy?]

I will never tire of Superboy’s “cool” 1990s speak. Rather than read it as a middle aged writer trying to use hip lingo, it could be read as Superboy being “raised” by pop culture. Because he was rapidly aged, maybe his entire knowledge of the world was programmed by others, who were guessing at how a young person speaks? So he’s not trying to be cool—it’s literally all he knows. But what I still don’t understand is where Robin came from!

Reading this issue for the first time, I still (mistakenly) worried that the man in black wasn’t the real Superman. This was both because the Eradicator, in his healing bath, has Superman hair (even though we saw his hair get blown off last issue) and because I misunderstood the Kryptonian robot’s line of dialogue about ‘the master wanting to be there when Kal-El arose’. Though this is actually a confirmation that Kal-El has indeed arisen, I thought it meant that the guy in the bath was the real Kal-El. Plus, Steel has been the character the most “right” and in-tune with the spirit of Superman, and throughout this issue, he’s very dubious of the man in black being the real Superman, even saying how it seems to wrong. Which I read as a hint that maybe there was another twist coming.

#superman #dan jurgens #brett breeding #steel #superboy #Awesome Kryptonian Battle Robot #hank henshaw #mongul #fantastic four #eradicator #kelex #lil lion guy and gonad face #reign of the supermen

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queen-ofsunflowers · 6 years ago

Text

Queen Plays KH3 Pt. 3

TIME PLAYED: 28 hrs, 4 min.

CURRENT LEVEL: 40

DEATH COUNTER: 32

WORLDS COMPLETED:

Olympus

Twilight Town

Toy Box

Kingdom of Corona

Monstropolis

100 Acre Wood

Arendelle

The Carribean

San Fransokyo

The Final World

The rest is under the cut to avoid spoilers. Read at your own risk... though most of it is just keysmashin at the end.

Starting off with the Caribbean. And I like Jack, I really do. But I wanna smack him, he's such a jerk. And I think we died? We fell off the edge of the world and now Elizabeth is saying we ending up in Davy Jones's Locker. Great, but I'VE DIED 14 TIMES AT THIS POINT. It's just funny to me.

Should be noted I've never seen Pirates of the Caribbean. So I'm a little lost on all this.

Sora has a lil crown on his hat I love it.

Jack is a jerk to Will and Elizabeth. After KH2, I do not trust Barbossa. At all.

Something tells me I'm gonna fail A LOT at the ship driving thing.

Sora ain't afraid of no Kraken. He's faced worse. A lil Kraken ain't anything.

Vexen creeps me out a little right now. And what did Xemnas tell Luxord? Must have been something because I feel something is off. Anyway, there must be a reason Vexen wants to finish his work so bad. I wanna know it. I NEED TO KNOW IT.

It's so weird seeing Sora without gloves on. He has nice hands.

SORA BEING SO BADASS. JUST FLOWMOTIONING ON THE SMOKE AND RIDING THE HEARTLESS. SO CINMEATICALLY BEAUTIFUL.

I DIED THREE TIMES IN THAT BATTLE. THREE. TIMES.

And then Sora went splat.

Is that what Tia Dalma said to Sora? What is she talking about? Free her from what? Eh. We'll find out.

Something tells me, when Sora was a kid... he wanted to be a pirate. Very badly.

Jack may be a jerk, but he's a jerk who's not gonna leave a kid in a cavern.

Luxord calling parley and I'm like "not this shit again"

Jack Sparrow is such a DUMBASS.

Technically, Sora drives the Gummi Ship. He's the captain of it then, right?

Wait what. WAIT WHAT. OH MY GOD CRAB JACK EXPLODED.

The graphics in this world are so GOOD OH MY GOSH

IS ELIZABETH THE PIRATE KING? QUEEN? ... I need to watch these movies now.

When an encounter is cut off by a cutscene. Also, WTF is up with the way Sora pronounced Luxord? Like... "luke sword" is that how you're supposed to say it? I don't remember. I'm gonna continue to say Lux-ord. Say it like how spelled.

DEATH COUNT KEEPS GETTING HIGHER WITH THIS FIGHT. I'M UP TO 19. I'm gonna look up a walkthrough to help, hold on-- I gotta level up this fucking ship before I go any further. I don't want to die a bunch. Putting the story on hold for now. Gotta find crabs. That sounds so weird to say.

I love how the sounds underwater are muffled. It's a nice detail.

THIS BATTLE MAY COUNT FOR HALF OF MY DEATHS (27 so far) BUT I FINALLY BEAT THAT PIRATE GAMBLER WANNABE. OH SWEET LORD YES.

So Will and Co. Ddd our job for us. Or did they? Tia Dalma/Calypso... can she help us? She's a prisoner. But Sora's giving a protagonist speech, so I'm not complaining.

Sora joining in Elizabeth's speech, like... do you even know what "hoist the colors" means boy?!

The Organization are looking for hope. I can see the gears turning in Sora's head. Maybe they aren't so bad after all? Hmm.

"Then I invoke the right of parle--" Jack just comes up to Luxord, puts a finger to his mouth. Like... "No. No parley." Bitch finally learned.

RIP Luxord. Also, something tells me he was pirate before becoming a Nobody. I don't know, just a hunch.

Sora probably knows more about the heart than others. And Jack and I can agree on something.

Jones, stabs Will. SORA LITERALLY LOSES HIS SHIT AND TACKLES THE SQUIDMAN LIKE... YES BUT NO. RIP DAVY JONES. But seriously. THIS SCENE IS SO SAD OH MY GOD WYF JUST HAPPENED!? CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN?!

WTF WILL?! HOW IS HE ALIVE?! Wait... And thank you for explaining it right after I figured it out.

Jack is a major mood right now.

MY SHIP WAS JUST A BUNCH OF FUCKING CRABS.

Back with our redheads, Axel's having emotional problems. Talk about them man. Just talk.

LEA REMEMBERS VENTUS. HE REMEMBERS VEN.

I REMMEMVER THIS PART FROM THE TRAILER. NO, MICKEY. SAVE HIM RIKU.

Cut to Ansem the wise, and Ansem SOB

YAS KIDS YAS. I LOVE HAYNER PENCE AND OLETTE RIGHT NIW. THESE KIDS OH MY GOSH.

Why did the Nobody protect him?!WHAT IS GOING ON?!

VEXEN GET OUT.

Wait what?! Um... WHAT?! AND THE SCENE CUTS OFF THERE LIKE WTF. IS HE A SPY?! IS EVEN JUST PLAYING VEXEN WTF?!

I love Sora's reactions in San Fransokyo. They're so dorky. SORA IS SUCH A DORK I LOVE HIM.

I wanna hug from Baymax.

Sora is a simple Island boy, he's so fascinated by tech.

It sounds like they're saying Yu-Gi-Oh. Is that just me? ITS TIME TO DUEL. THE HEARTLESS.

SORA DOESN'T KNOW WHAT A FIST BUMP IS. THAT WAS SO CUTE.

AHHH SORA AND ROXAS. THAT WAS... JUST... "I'M WITH YOU"... AHHH

What are those things? Are they from Coded? I'm not sure... and that ain't a good thing.

REPLICA. Oh wait, no... I don't think so anyway?

Goofy talking sense into Sora. It's the dad in him.

His eyes also look more hazel than gold.

BAYMAX. WHY MUST YOU DO THIS FAKE RIKU. WHY.

Just like the end of the movie, the end of this world is so freaking SAD. ... I TAKE IT BACK ITS SO FREAKING SWEET!!!! Its official. That is my favorite world now.

Now it's time for the beginning of the end.

RIKU MICKEY NO. Really hope Sora knows what he's doing.

OH MY GOD. THAT. OH MY GOD.

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. I KNOW THIS FROM THE TRAILER. NO THIS ISN'T GOOD. THIS CANT BE GOOD.

Can I say that Riku has grown so much since the first game? Because he has. It's good and I love AND NOW LETS SAVE AQUA

Sora is a... wha. SORA. BROS. SAVING THE DAY ONCE AGAIN. AHHHHH YESSS. AQUA IM SO SORRY I HAD TO DO THIS. PLEASE BE OKAY.

SHE'S OKAY. SORA SAVED HER SHE'S OKAY. TEN YEARS AND SHE'S OKAY I CANT STOP SMILING.

AHHH EVEN AND DEMYX. I knew that Demyx wasn't like... dark. Even had me going, that's for sure. BUT YES. EVERYTHING IS GOOD YES.

OH. I have a theory. And if right... Please let it be right...

THEY HAVE IT. YES DEMYX YES. THEY HAVE THE BODY.

OH MY GOD IENZO AND ANSEM... I COULDN'T STOP SMILING THAT WHOLE TIME JUST THE EMOTION IN THAT WHOLE SCENE--

THE LAND OF DEPATURE. SHE'S FIXING HER HOME. NOW LET'S GO GET VEN!!! AND VANITAS RUINS EVERYTHING. AND AQUA KICKS ASS. YAS QUEEN.

Wait what's going on??? VEN?! IS SORA GONNA HES WAKING HIM UP. HES WAKING HIM UP. VENTUS IS AWAKE. MY BBY BOY ISAWALE!!! "Good morning, Ven." MY HEART.

Lea is a MAJOR MOOD.

MY HEART. THEY STILL HAVE THEIR WAYFINDERS.

THE SCENE BETWEEN LEA AND SAIX. OH MY HEART. HE JUST WANTS HIS FRIENDS. AND HOW ARE THESE TWO NOT REALIZING YET THAT THE GIRL IS KAIRI?! I mean... I know it was ten years ago, but given all that you know so far... guys. Come on. Lea, you should at ke in st put the pieces together by now.

Though, it was nice to get an explantion on WHY Isa and Lea were turned into Nobodies. They just wanted to save Kairi. They were just... a little too late.

REPLICA RIKU. THE PRESENT DAY ONE I GUESS??? AHHH. It is only later that my dumbass realizes that this is Past!Riku, the one controlled by Ansem. Forgive me about this.

MY KIDS. SO SWEET.

The day has finally come. I am ready. ... I am not ready.

AND THE CHOSEN KICK ASS. With a train. Woo woo.

What just happened. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! I DIED?!

CHIRITHY. His voice sounds familiar...

Words cannot describe... how amazing the next few scenes are. Like... Sora... my man... I just... I want everything for you. Please let everyone survive this to the end.

THEKEYBLADES U ION CROSS HAS A REASON FOR EXISTING. AHHH MY BOY.

RIKU NO. HIW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER. Never mind answered my own question. Xehanort’s heart and shit. Nevermind. Time to kick heartless ass.

Also, just noticed that Lea's Keyblade glows. And he's holding it the same way he did his chakrams. Nice.

Yen Sid coming to save our asses. THA K YOU. And thank you, Donald. Goofy. Thanks.

And now... the final battle truly begins... tomorrow.

It's late now, and I'm a bit sad because I really wanted to beat this game today. I'm keeping my fingers crossed I can finish it before I have to go to work tomorrow, if not then on Sunday.

Guys... wish me luck. I'll take advice if anyone has any...

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suggestionsofthecaribbean · 6 years ago

Text

H34v3nlie Måll: Elizabeth & James

Elizabeth and James wake up the next morning. Their plans for the day are simple enough: see to his cracked tooth and evacuate the mall. That couldn’t possibly go wrong, could it?

For the second morning in a row, Elizabeth woke with a kiss.

Yesterday, however, all had been well; yesterday night had been a different story. Stormy, one might have said. In spite of how they had made up, she had still gone to sleep unconvinced of their future together.

“What’s that for,” Elizabeth murmured, careful not to breathe on him. The lights were on; morning it was again. Elizabeth checked her phone and gently swore. It was later than she wanted to be up.

“It's something I never grow tired of. Let me indulge myself,” James said, his voice rougher and even lower than usual from sleep.

Elizabeth couldn’t say she minded. And let him not tire of it, she hoped. And if he proved false today, at least she would have memories.

“I would have thought last night’s activities put you in a sullen mood,” she teased.

“Mm. Well. I hope you consider me properly chastened…”

“You did serve me rather well.”

“And frequently, as I recall.”

Elizabeth found herself laughing self-consciously. There was a throaty quality to her voice at this hour. She was not fully awake - not awake enough for this, although she had first mentioned it.

“Well, you seem recovered enough,” said Elizabeth, forcing herself to sit.

“Your kisses are a very capable curative,” said James, who had resolutely stayed on his back.

Seeing James did not plan to get up, Elizabeth moved to lie on him, tucking her head on his chest and sinking against him.

“Bad breath and all?”

“No one is otherwise first thing in the morning,” he laughed.

“I should think that would damage my healing powers somewhat.” Her throat felt dry.

“I'm not going to quibble with you about morning breath,” he said gently, as he tilted his head to look down at her. “Suffice it to say it does not.”

“You’re soft in the mornings,” she noted mildly.

“Hm?”

“Sweet, I should say.”

“I'm feeling somewhat improved,” he said with a small shrug. “My mouth is still a pain, but that's only a matter of time.”

“Remember, I want it if you lose it-”

“I know,” James groaned, though not particularly vehemently. “I can't for the life of me understand why, but I think you know how I enjoy spoiling you.”

She touched her throat absent-mindedly. “I want to wear it-”

“I cannot help but feel I should not be as touched as I am.”

Elizabeth breezed her fingertips along his chest, up and down. James closed his eyes, with a surprised smile.

“Good morning, love.”

“Do you feel touched?” she quizzed him.

“Elizabeth-”

He began to laugh, covering his mouth with one hand. Satisfied, Elizabeth settled down again, face all but buried.

James slid his fingers into her hair and ruffled lightly, without judgment.

“Would that we did not have to get up. I would be content to spend all day in here.”

“We should be leaving today,” she reminded him. “We should have gotten up early for that. Set an example.”

“I know,” he said. “More’s the pity.”

“I thought you wanted to leave.”

“This place? Absolutely,” he said with a scoff. “This bed, on the other hand-”

“We’ve got a bed on the Pearl,” she reminded him. “And on the Empress…”

“I know,” he repeated. “But I’m afraid I’m rather absorbed by the moment…”

He smiled tiredly down at her as he lifted her hair and let it spill through his fingers, split ends be damned.

“The bed on the Empress,” Elizabeth whispered confidentially. “Really it’s rather spectacular. For horrible reasons, one can assume. But, regardless. I last lay in it a heartsick and frustrated virgin, and next I will lie in it with you.”

“Closer than a bride,” he said, with a carefully contained smile to spare her the sight of the inside of his mouth- though, realizing how she might take that reluctance, he added, “and twice as eager.”

She remembered how eager a bride she was, and for someone else, but it was thankfully early enough that her facial expressions lagged behind her feelings, and this time she pinched any grimaces away before they could bloom on her face.

“A large bed is a terrible place to be lonely,” she said vaguely, rubbing grit out of her eyes. “My face feels swollen.”

“It is,” he agreed, in a quiet voice, as his hand descended to the back of her neck through her hair and rubbed a little more pensively. “I look forward to ending that for you.”

She thought about apologizing, telling him she knew it wasn’t the ship he’d hoped for them to end up on. But there was a bigger hurt there than her, she knew, and she didn’t know how to heal it. It seemed unfair that she couldn’t alone, but that was the way things were.

“I’ll miss the Pearl, though, I admit. And we’ll all miss out, trying to see which of her captains wins…”

“I've no such attachment to it,” he said bluntly. “I prefer to think of a less furtive future with you.”

“I’ll miss her crew,” she retorted, and sighed. “I hope my boys will keep up their lessons. I haven’t had much time with them.”

Pintel and Ragetti, the only surviving members of the Pearl’s original crew, had been learning how to read from her. They had a slate and a piece of chalk, limited good humors and Barbossa’s permission as their only tools of learning, but they were surprisingly eager to do it. With growing guilt at the privilege of an education she had taken entirely for granted, Elizabeth did not want to abandon them, but knew they would not be allowed to depart with her if she’d even wanted them to.

“Your boys,” James repeated in amusement.

“You know, they’re the ones who took me on board the Pearl,” she said lightly, “the first time.”

“I suppose that must engender a certain affection,” James said dryly.

“I honestly can’t believe Jack let them join his crew,” she said, in real incredulity. “No one’s told me yet how that happened. Just hopped on with you in Tortuga and there they were and no one’s said a word of it since.”

“The operative words in that sentence being with me. I don't think he was after much in the way of quality.”

“Yes, but they mutinied against him-”

“And I nearly hanged him- twice, I might add, and now he's going about saying that actually serves to better qualify me as his friend. I don't think Sparrow gives these things ordinary consideration.”

“Yes,” said Elizabeth in some exasperation, “but that’s not a betrayal; you were on opposite sides of the law.”

“The heart,” James said flatly.

“You tried to stab Will, and I forgave you,” said Elizabeth still more bluntly. “It seems that he did too, til you absconded with me.”

“I know,” he said. “I think if we're honest with ourselves, the only one among us who hasn't done anything of the sort to a substantial number of the rest of us is Giselle, which only serves to highlight how lucky we are to have her.”

“That’s because Giselle doesn’t come from class or pirates,” said Elizabeth drily. “Her cunning comes from pirate-adjacent at best, and all of her sense of class, style or elegance is her own, she has never had any haughty ladies to impress. She’s a self-made woman. We should all aspire so high.”

“I might have to bring her aboard with me,” he cautioned. “She's rather attached, and I will confess that it's mutual. It's rather like having a sister.”

“If she’ll come. It’s not a fun prospect; more than half the crew has little or no English.”

“And if she'll forgive me for taking the matter of my hair into my own hands,” he said, too lofty even by James Norrington standards to be serious.

“If her man will join us, I expect that will be what decides her.”

“He can teach your crew how to code.”

“They’ll be much obliged if he does,” said Elizabeth, finally feeling awake enough to start, very lazily, picking apart her hair with plans to braid it.

“Here- let me help you with that,” he said as he pushed himself back up to sitting. He gave her a kiss on the temple in passing, along with a small, yet warm, smile.

“You don’t have to do it in the mornings - only at night,” she protested in embarrassment.

“I don't mind it,” he said. “Besides that, I feel I was rather unnecessarily cold toward you last night.”

“I think you may have behaved according to the dictates of circumstance,” she responded with delicacy.

“It was unkind, nonetheless. I’m sorry for that.”

“I don’t recollect you. That may be for the best.”

James pressed his hand above her heart- and by extension, and rather daringly for him- over her breast.

“I feel as though I have neglected not only your authority, but our relationship as well, in my dwelling on my current station. I would like to amend that, if you will permit it.”

Elizabeth could only meet his eyes for a moment.

“Then you may begin with my hair, if it suits you,” she said, believing that would address both his points, and should satisfy him.

James kissed her on the forehead.

“I expect my spirits to improve significantly aboard the Empress, though you will have to help me learn their language.”

“I have some small skill at that,” she said, with a little smile. She had been kissed three times in as many minutes; it lifted the spirits as it was meant to.

James’s own hair was disheveled from sleep to such a vengeful extent that it might as well have been rebelling against years of fastidious grooming, aggressive shearing, and being too limp, dirty and unkempt the last time it had grown out to do much of anything. He raked it back from his face with his hand before he went to brush hers; it was much more noticeably uneven now than it had been last night, but the carelessness with which he responded to it was new in itself.

“My only regret is that I did not look deeply enough into whether or not I wanted to keep anything from this place. I’m rather fond of the bedspread, I’ll admit.”

“Take the bedspread if you want it,” said Elizabeth, amused.

“Well, you know,” he said. “Sentiment and all that. It's practically a wedding bed.”

“Ah, yes,” she said, understanding, and leaning in to nuzzle him, since she had still not seen to her breath.

“And the quondams, of course. What we shall do when those run out again, I’ve no idea-“

“I suppose we’ll have to make them last until we’re ready to settle down,” Elizabeth whispered, then snorted with laughter.

James finished brushing her hair and began rebraiding it.

“I had a thought last night, regarding the Gloriana.”

“Oh?” she asked, soothed by the gentle tugging on her hair.

“I think I have a condition for putting her in fleet. I think she ought to be rechristened.”

“What do you want to name it?” she asked dubiously, belatedly fearing it was going to be something sentimental to stab James in the heart every time he said it - something to evoke the Dauntless, perhaps.

“What would you think of calling her the Weatherby Swann?” he asked, leaning over to look her in the eye.

“I don’t think he would like it,” she said, looking bleary.

“Ah,” James said quickly. “I- all right, then. No matter.”

“I don’t think I’d like the idea of calling a ship my father’s name, it would feel unwieldy on the tongue all the time- and if you think these people aren’t fond of you, I can’t see them being especially fond of the last governor of Port Royal, can you?”

James’s apologetic expression darkened into a glower as he leaned back behind her.

“I want Beckett’s armada to think of him as they perish.”

“That’s all very well and good, but I’d still have to talk about a ship using my father’s name. I don’t like it.”

“Very well. I won’t push it any further.”

He finished the braid.

“Besides,” she reflected, lost in her pragmatism. “I expect the name doesn’t mean much to most of the armada. I doubt most of them even know Beckett- well. What would they know about it?”

“I could have saved him, if I had known,” James said softly.

“Perhaps,” she allowed. “But you don’t know for certain. Perhaps he would have killed you both, and I’d have seen you both in a little boat in the afterlife, helpless to prevent your passage. Believe me, James, when I say I would not have taken your death very well. And then what would have become of me, James?”

She leaned her back to his chest familiarly and shut her eyes.

“Trade myself to Sao Feng and die in the boarding by the Dutchman. You know perfectly well that’s true.”

“I did not mean to darken the day so early,” he said, taking her hands in his and leaning his chin on her head.

Elizabeth tilted her head back a little with affection.

“I’d brighten it, but my breath is too foul.”

“Mine can’t be any better,” he said, smiling down at her. “You’re forgiven.”

Elizabeth bounded out of the bed.

“I’m going to remedy that,” she said, beginning to dress first. Her braid swung around with amusing speed as she hopped into a pair of trousers and pulled on a shirt. “Come on. We’ll be wanted.”

“All right, give me a moment-” James quickly sorted through some of the strange-looking clothes this place had given him and dressed.

“Might I still trouble you to help me with my hair later, as you offered?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons of his shirt. “I understand if there’s no time, but…” His voice trailed off, as it often did, but he looked up at her again, aching with sincerity.

“God help me, I think I look forward to the attention. It’s odd how that works. I thought my contentment with being your dog was enough.”

“Let’s eat something first,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile. “I think perhaps one thing might lead to more, and I won’t be frustrated by foul breath.”

James laughed, startled.

“Are you already planning that far ahead? I would never have considered that an amorous activity to begin with.”

“I meant kissing, James, but you may get your hopes up.”

Shirt on, she scooped her braid out of the back of it and stepped into a pair of boots.

“Even so,” he said, as he belatedly unfasted the first few buttons of his shirt for her sake. “And may this damned tooth come out if it’s going to before we try-”

Her unwelcome fingers pushed on his cheek to see if she could find where it was. James flinched and instinctively pulled away.

“Ow,” he said pointedly.

She did not mind this, instead moving her fingers to his throat absent-mindedly before turning away and beginning the process of packing things up. She couldn’t bring anything back with her she couldn’t carry underwater, and that was the hard part - wanting to bring clothes and knowing they’d be weighed down. She ended up pulling out a lot of things with reluctance. Ah, but the trousers she’d keep, and possibly a second pair of the boots she’d found - she’d have to go back out into the mall for those -

“We should probably go eat, then direct the packing effort. We might not make it out today; I don’t think everyone is on board with it yet. Well, that should give us some time for me to trim your hair, at least -”

“That’s a low priority, at that,” he conceded. “To be plain with you, I only gathered it back and cut it off, and that was that. I didn’t anticipate your involvement, welcome though it is.”

“Maybe I want to do it.”

He paused halfway through sleeve-rolling.

“That’s… generous,” he said, with a confused little frown.

“You could have asked me to do it from the start, you know,” she said, her frown matching his. “I don’t see why you didn’t, when you think you’d like me to. We make time for other things.”

“It would have seemed a very petty thing for which to pull the king aside.” He smiled a little bitterly. “Particularly with the reputation I’ve built among these people- and I did not even know if you would be willing or able.”

“Lord, you could have still asked. And you didn’t have to ask in front of them, you could have just texted me.”

“Cut it as you like then, later today,” he said, a little bitterly. “I don’t think I shall be able to eat much until I get this thing out of my mouth.”

“Come and drink something then. A juice if you don’t want coffee.”

“Better yet, I find a way of dealing with this and then pack through my headache with the comfort of knowing there's an end in sight,” he said grimly, though he lightened his tone enough to make it clear that he was teasing her when he added, “unless you’d like to do that as well.”

“Hardware store, then?”

James looked faintly alarmed. “Are you serious?”

She smirked. He blinked, a little stunned.

“Are you?” he repeated.

“If you are.”

“So long as you don't expect any dignity from me, I'll allow it,” he conceded.

“I was teasing you.”

“Oh, thank God-”

“But I’ll be serious in a moment if you’re asking me.”

“My only concern is the thought of the crews finding out and assuming this was an intentional punishment.”

“James,” said Elizabeth shortly, sitting heavily on the bed now she was dressed, and looking, she hoped, like a proper pirate in spite of things - “if you want me to do it then I will. If you don’t, I will not. Is that clear enough to you?”

He had to weigh these options before he could answer. James rubbed his jaw and cursed under his breath.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll let you. At least you’ll keep going long after I would have forced myself to stop.”

She didn’t relish it, but she gave him a thin smile regardless.

“As your mistress I think I should be expected to do a little dirty work for you every now and again.”

“I just want it done with. Bad enough to have to walk off the personal impression yesterday's little episode left behind. I won't top it off by being seen stumbling about in pain.”

He sighed and looked back at her.

“And I worry that if I don't, I’ll drink to stop feeling it. I don't want to cause you any more trouble, and I feel I ought to grow more accustomed to managing pain through force of will than irrigating myself. I'm sure the others would agree.”

He smiled very briefly, and then went back to dressing himself.

“I think it might do me some good to be seen as appropriately chastened, but able enough to manage a bit of pain. I'm sure they'll find the whole affair amusing enough to placate them, anyway.”

Elizabeth interrupted him in his dressing to - gently, on account of the tooth - take him by the chin, lean up, and chastely kiss him.

“As you wish,” she murmured. “Now I’ve got to run. Catch up with me at the canteen?”

Her hand dropped to his forearm, squeezed it, then she headed out, without much further ado.

#pl: h34v3nlie måll #ch: firing squad #ch: her majesty if you're nasty #potcsuggestions #norribeth #jackquest 1748

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