#and i hated it when my sister's response to this failure to react was to try to manipulate a 'correct' response out of them | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orikiys · 2 years ago

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✿ ✿ 〞older brother skz finding you with a guy

✰ pairings : older brother ot8!skz x sibling! fem reader

✰ warnings : mentions of sex ed ( pretty short although), indirect mentions of violence, implied angst as well, cursing, reader's bf is an asshole, mentions of break up, mentions of cheating as well

✰ synopsis : your older brother finds you with a guy and well there could be various outcomes

✰ word count : 1.4k+ words

౨₊ৎ chan

i feel like chan would be the chill bro

like he loves you, he does but he doesn't want to seem as those cliché annoying brothers so he'll act normal

BUT if the guy ever makes you cry, chan's on his way to the guy's house along with his members

chan would absolutely hate it when you cry because of a guy

he'll not give you space thinking you need a shoulder to cry on and would lay beside you and distract you by playing video games or simply talking to each other

he would find himself getting a bit sad when you're on the phone texting someone but would try to brush it off

everytime a guy even looks at you in a weird way he would glare at them

he even created a whole powerpoint with points and body language of guys. basically mentioning each and every single detail to keep you away from those toxic guys

being the eldest kid, he felt like he has responsibility to look after the younger ones

and he does that everytime. without failure.

౨₊ৎ minho

the moment he sees you with a guy outside the convenient store he would literally have to double take a look

his sister, HIS younger sister with a GUY ???

oh he is so going to tease the hell out of you

he would click a good amount of pictures and smirk like a devil

later on he would confront you about it and blackmail you saying he'll tell it to mom

would make you do every single work assigned to him

and the moment you hesitate he is almost about to fake call mom

would make kissing noises and hand gestures each time you're about to go on a date or facetiming the guy

but when he sees that you unhappy, he's going to have a little chat with the guy

let's say that it did not end well at all

would realize his mistake and mumble sorry everytime he sees you

would do anything to make you forgive him

though his ways were a bit more violent, he knew that the guy anyway didn't deserve you

and that minho is always right with his instincts

౨₊ৎ changbin

the type of brother to literally interrogate the guy

would ask the guy if he works out and if he says no, changbin would throw you a disappointed look telling you could do better

would scold you both and explain about sex education, embarassing the hell out of you

he loves it sm although !

but at the same time he can't help but think of how fast you grew up

would also help you with your outfits

he has the guy warned to drop you home safely and before 9 !!

if the guy ever hurts you, don't worry. changbin has your back

he's also the brother who would feel a bit awkward on how to approach you so he would just quietly sit by your side, watching your favorite movies with you

i swear the moment he sees you laugh it's like he can breathe normally now

he promised himself to never let you cry over a guy again !! must protect

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

the type of brother who would judge the guy and his choice of fashion

would fake gag loudly whenever he sees you blushing and would roll his eyes the moment he sees the guy's face

"please don’t tell me that frog is my future brother in-law"

would constantly spy on you both to figure out what you were both upto

the moment you two break up he would hit you with that "i told you" but when he realizes you don't even react, he would literally let you cry in his arms

would send you a sad playlist to help you let it all out

would sneakily take your phone, get the guy's number and would block him on all socials before sending an annonymous text to the guy

would make goofy faces while dancing just to make you laugh

would let you do his skincare for a month if it means he gets to see you move on from that asshole

౨₊ৎ han

the brother who's jealous that he's still single

would glare whenever you both show pda in front of him

so damn annoyed (x 100)

but at the same time he'll keep an eye on the two of you, especially the guy

the moment you two break up he's gonna be so relieved but ! the realization would hit him and he would walk up to your room and talk to you for hours, helping you get it all out

out of rage he would even write a few diss tracks for the guy and make you listen to it

the moment you start vibing or screaming out the lyrics he would feel like he won in life

the other members know about and would let him pull a taylor swift knowing very well that the guy deserves it

han would probably even post the song online and would anonymously troll the guy

what's a revenge without some fun?

౨₊ৎ felix

brother? no! he's your 4lifer

knows every single gossip of your college and your friends

so it's no surprise that he was the first person that go to know you were dating someone

will most likely start thirdwheeling on your dates

he would even invite the guy over to watch a match

and the moment you break out the news that you both broke up he's literally gonna be even sadder than you

would sigh out loud on purpose and hug you tightly mumbling that he was good company

but the moment you tell him it was the guy's fault, felix would switch up real quick

would throw insults and say speeches on how the guy was a dumbhead and all

jokes apart, he would actually feel guilty for mentioning the guy in front of you and would apologize to you and swears that he'll be careful from now

who needs guys when you have brothers like him?

౨₊ৎ seungmin

he IS the bully

would laugh mockingly at you both and make memes saying how he finds couples cringey

would literally yell out embarrassing things about you to the guy

would even show your baby pictures and snicker

there is no way in hell that he could get a better opportunity of revenge !!

but honestly he's gonna share the gossip that you're dating with the other members just so they can't keep flirting with you

he has grown kinda annoyed

he still can't digest the fact that people find his sister pretty

although, he thinks you are but he loves irritating the hell out of you

being seungmin's sister, he shouldn't expect any less from you

you would fake cry making him panic because if mom finds out it's over !!

and when you cry for a guy, that guy is over

seungmin is very protective when you get sad because of someone else

he would frown and his arms would find your sides, bringing you in his embrace since he knows how much you love his hugs

you're like his little star and he would absolutely feel his heart shatter seeing you sad

౨₊ৎ jeongin

the type of brother who would hate it when you started dating his best friend

would roll his eyes when you take his best friend/ your boyfriend away from him

it was irritating the heck out of him

how dare YOU date HIS friend?

but later on he kind of got used to it

and when the two of you break up it's like time stops for jeongin

not only did you lose your boyfriend, but jeongin lost his best friend in a way too

hurting jeongin's sister was a bad bad move

and poor jeongin felt helpless seeing you looks so miserable for a cheater like that guy

he would take you out to arcades or take you boxing because it's his way of taking his anger out and maybe it might help you as well?

little tmi, it actually did

you could feel yourself healing and getting over that guy and jeongin could feel his sister's crazy antics returnings

so suddenly he felt like he regretted it when you barge in his room wiggle your eyebrows for no reason

he's no less either. he would run behind you like a monkey and tackle you to the ground before tickling you hard

it's weird, how in many ways the annoying part of jeongin shows just how caring he is

hey anon hope you liked this >< i changed the ending to angst although because i love angst (guilty) 🙏🙏

#ॱଳ͘#stray kids x reader #skz fluff #scenarios #skz scenarios #skz x reader #bang chan #minho #han #jeongin #hyunjin #changbin #seungmin #felix

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f1ghtsoftly · 9 months ago

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Assigning Blame: Who is At Fault When Women Are Retaliated Against?

When things go wrong, it is often useful for us to endeavor to discover why, to make matters more complex, how does the apportion of blame change under objectively hostile social conditions? Does the prevalence of injustice preclude us from assigning blame to the oppressed? When the goal is to avoid the ire of the oppressor-how much responsibility does the oppressed hold? Is it even possible to attempt to outsmart someone committed to your destruction? What happens when you fail or refuse to play by their rules?

While I've read a lot and experienced a lot since childhood-it remains to me the most fruitful place to study power dynamics, a kind of lab that helps me reflect on and understand how to operate from a place of social weakness. I had known for a long time that what was happening at home was unjust and I tried multiple strategies to gain some power back, and was met mostly with failure. By the time I was 7 or 8 I had trained myself not to react to beatings for the most part, which made my abuser escalate in attempts to break me psychologically, they succeeded by beating my sister instead. My sister, watching my example-tried to get me to exercise caution. She believed that the only solution was to get away as soon and as much as possible. She didn’t see why resistance was necessary-she thought by controlling me she could make our abuse stop. It didn’t, even when I complied with my abusers wishes. As a young teen, I made a deal with someone to get us out of that environment, it was a trap. No sooner than two years later, my brother, sister and I were made to pay for my mistakes. I became the center of a patriarchal witch hunt and lost everything.

I don’t know if my biggest mistake was ever taking a stand against abuse, but what if it was? I don’t know if I prevented any suffering with my behavior. Conventional wisdom says I shouldn’t hold responsibility, but when you look at the suffering of others and my results, it becomes clear that a conscious, mediated resistance will yield a collective punishment that might just land us in a worse place than the one we were trying to escape. Is that ever worth it?

In many ways, these dynamics mirror the dynamics many feminists face today. Would we trade the short term wellbeing of our sisters for a shot at freedom? Could we even bear it if we did? Will the long term alliance with powerful allies be something that helps us? Or is that an illusion too? If we give up the support of the institutional left, who will protect us? Can we even protect ourselves?

I am…bullheaded. I tend to think that the consistent prolonged effort of one woman could become many, I also can become very fixated on a goal. To me, the short term pain means very little if we can get somewhere tangible-but I am also strong and lucky. The sacrifice to me means nothing in the face of lifelong subordination. Other women, of less financial means, with different psychologies, different needs might suffer more intensely than others, they might see different paths out. I want to help them, I hate to see someone suffer, especially if I feel like it is because of me. It makes me question the whole enterprise. Is it my fault? My fault for wanting better? My Fault for asking for it?

There is a concept in Marxism called adventurism, this article from the International Review sums up the content nicely;

“The adventurer is in general a declasse. There are many such people within bourgeois society, with great ambitions, and with an extremely high estimation of their own abilities, but who are unable to fulfil their high flying ambitions within the ruling class. Full of bitterness and cynicism, such people often slide towards the lumpen-proletariat, living a bohemian or criminal existence. Others prove an ideal work force for the state as informers and agents provocateurs. But among this declassed magma, there are a few exceptional individuals with the political talent to recognise that the workers' movement can give them a second chance. They can try to use it as a springboard to fame and importance, and thus take revenge on the ruling class, which in reality is the object of their efforts and ambitions. Such people are constantly resentful of the failure of society at large to recognise their alleged genius. At the same time they are fascinated, not by marxism or the workers' movement, but by the power of the ruling class and its methods of manipulation.”

Thus, the adventurer is someone who seeks fame and personal success over the wellbeing of the masses, who might see the revolutionary potential of a movement-but manipulates it for their own personal gain. Is this me? In some ways, I share similarities with the characters described above. It would make me perfectly happy to work on liberation all day every day for money, a comfortable amount of money too. I do harbor cynical beliefs about my own potential,I am frustrated that the positions that would make me happiest, educator, writer and worker for the empowerment of others-would require me to abandon any political education of substance. I grieve a life I feel I deserve but am not permitted due to our political moment. I hurt and feel suppressed and am impatient to end that hurt. I think though (and I am alright with those who disagree-you just need to substantiate it) that what separates me from the adventurist is two-fold. My dream of freedom is legitimate and I am more than happy to share. Sure, I do delight in the idea of freedom for myself and am eager to give it to others. I just happen to have a flashy way of going about it.

So, let's come back to responsibility. Who is responsible for inciting the violence? The protestors or the police? Myself or my abuser? What I find most interesting, is that it is both not my responsibility, but also impossibly hard to accept that. The objective truth is this, an oppressor can get to you at any moment for any reason. The oppressed have, by definition of their oppression, no capacity to control the aggression. Our only hope in this life is to continue to try and move forward, no matter their attempts to terrorize because the “right opportunity” might never come in our lifetimes, we must create it.

My biggest mistake growing up wasn’t acknowledging what was happening to me was wrong, my biggest mistake was believing others when they told me it was hopeless. It was not changing tactics. It was allowing myself to live in despair when an adult I believed was my ally began to betray me. It took me a decade to act on the information I knew at the time, that adult acted out onto me what he wished he had the power to act out on our abuser-getting control back from himself at my expense. Forcing him to confront that would have helped us both. But I didn’t, I suffered, blaming myself for ever wanting anything better in this life. I collapsed under the guilt that I had been the cause of my own repression.

It is with an extraordinarily heavy heart that I acknowledge the way forward will not be easy and there is precious little I can do about that. I don’t always have control of who they target. I can’t control who will give up. I can’t control the pain watching another woman suffer will cause me. Men and women invested in patriarchal power will do whatever they can to stop us. Our only recourse, as always, is to gather, to educate, to stand up for one another and keep moving forward, it is our only way of getting to the other side.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminist #char on char #radical feminists do touch #radfem safe #radical feminist theory #radfems #radfem

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commersons-fucking-dolphin · 2 months ago

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TW: venting, family stuff, financial issues, mental health, queerphobia, racism, xenophobia, ableism, misogyny, etc...

idek what to say, except that im fucking tired. im fucking tired of being the oldest child. im fucking tired. i hate being basically the go-to punching bag.

family is currently in the midst of buying a house, which is a huge fucking struggle given the shit housing market in Toronto/the gta. and we dont make that much money, given that my whole family of four has to survive only on my mother's rather modest salary.

today, our real estate agent came to collect a cheque for a house we're trying to buy, and immediately after she left, my father unloaded on me with a fricking lecture about how i have to be more responsible, stop being mentally and physically ill bc that makes me a burden, work a job (how can i with my insane uni class schedules?), prolong my undergrad, do all the house chores (fucker himself doesn't help out at all cuz he's the man of the house). basically, the gist of the lecture was that i suck at adulting and that im a burden.

yes, i get it. i need to be more of an adult. but its fucking HARD. it's hard when there are no real healthy adults whom you can model. when you're the first in the family to be going to uni in canada, tryna figure out these confusing things by yourself bc no one can really help you.

its even harder bc you're dealing with queerphobia, racism, misogyny, ableism, xenophobia, fatphobia have an insane uni commute that it like an hour and a half and requires tons of walking and switching vehicles, when you have to deal with so much fucking crap from your family, who are ableist, fatphobic and queerphobic. who believe being queer is a sickness, a sin, a crime. who believe that your FND, GAD, depression, is just an attitude problem. who see you taking medications and needing therapy and needing accommodations for education are failures, shortcomings, and just issues of not being resilient, being weak, or an attitude problem.

and its not like i can even predict my father's behaviour usually. my mother and sister have rather predictable models of how they usually act, react, and behave, but my father is not very predictable. i have to calculate so much in my head for everything i do or say around him and to him. the other two, i can really just run an algorithm in my head and the predictions are pretty right usually. but with him, there's no telling what will set him off, make him pissed at you. and im fucking exhausted. im pissed that hes back from iran to wreak havoc on the relatively-peaceful and stable and low-conflict family dynamic between us. i can't wait till he goes back there.

my therapist wouldn't believe me at first when i told him i don't miss my father at all while he was away, and said i just didn't want to miss him but really did. he eventually realized that no, i really don't miss him when he's gone bc what's there to miss? yelling? lectures? being berated for your whole fucking existence? having your whole being torn into for just spilling some water? having the shred of self-esteem you have left thrown out the window?

#me #vent

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little-miss-understood · 2 years ago

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Dame Violette, Prologue

Welcome to the mother of all fix-it fics, something I've had planned for a long while but the disaster that is Season 5 of Miraculous Ladybug has proven to me is needed. This will probably be my definitive work and after it's completed I'm more than likely not going to write anything else for ML. But, this story is in me to be told and I want it out lol.

Anyways, enjoy!

They had lost.

There was no question about it, as Marinette stared up at the figure of Gabriel Agreste in front of her. He had successfully merged the Cat and Ladybug Miraculous, and now as a deranged god he was going to get his reality bending wish. It was the one thing he wanted out of this whole mess, after three years of terrorizing Paris, and she felt utterly despondent and sad in her failure.

His son and her partner, the love of her life, Adrien Agreste stood behind his father. The emotions crossing over his face at this turn of events seemed to be of relief that this was all over. That somehow, his father would come to his senses and that if Marinette could just be understanding, then this whole situation could resolve itself and-

“I wish to go back to when my wife was alive, for us all to be together again as a family!”

Marinette had no time to react. The world went white.

Hi, my name is Marinette! I'm just a normal girl who lives with her two baker parents in Paris. Nothing special about me, nope, nosiree.

Unless you count the weird psychic visions I get. I mean that has to be normal, right?

They're like “mental shocks”. To be honest I'm not really sure why they happen or how they come to me, or even if I'm the only one who gets them. They seem to be steering me in life. Hopefully away from bad things though I never know for sure. Like a shock I got when considering fashion as a career choice, which led to some weird visions of a blonde-haired woman yelling about how something wasn't exceptional and about a man who looked old and stern, how the world of fashion seemed very competitive and not easy to get to the top of, at least not without losing parts of yourself along the way. Because of that I figured maybe engineering would be a better bet, I seem to have a good knack for designing neat things, like diaries with unique locks. I still make clothes occasionally! But they're more for myself or my close friends.

Another shock came when the first class representative elections came up. I thought about running, but memories of a girl who seemed to be overrun with responsibilities for her classmates filled my mind, along with a figure who took advantage who looked very, very similar to Madame Bustier, my homeroom teacher. Because of that it led me to always sit at the back of the class rather than anywhere near the front, not wanting to be noticed. Someone else can take the burden of being leader. There are only two other people who knows about me having such thoughts...having met them both through shocks, I figured they'd understand it if I explained the whole thing outright. Considering how well read one of them is I had hoped maybe she could have had a rational explanation but she just laughed and said it was probably some kind of “gut magic”. The other simply said it was “Awesome”. I might have been offended but they also both wholeheartedly believed me. I don't know why a person believing in me feels so...important, but it does. Like I know my parents do but having someone else besides them is great. I have a small group of two best friends, and that's more than enough for me. Having too many would be spreading myself thin and my downtime is important; I hate being run off my feet. Plus quality is better over quantity, and both of these girls are quality without a doubt. We might as well be sisters now for how entangled our lives have become.

- In a schoolyard, a five-year old Marinette looks around anxiously. It's a brand-new school to her, what with the move her mama and papa had done to a new and larger bakery, and she had to leave behind the friends she made in the previous year. Her papa however had done what he always did, and set her up with a box of macarons for her first day. “Just be yourself, offer one to a classmate. You're going to be fine, my sweet.” But there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. Marinette was expecting something to come her way, something horrible. Something brash. But little did she know, that on the other side of Paris, a decision was made to send a blonde girl of similar age to a private school, along with a boy of a prominent fashion mogul. It was over the objections of her father, a councilman who was hoping to rise to the position of mayor. “It's out of the question, Andre!”, shouted the mother. “She needs to learn what it takes with the right kind of teachers! Besides, this might seal the deal between ourselves and the Agrestes for marriage!” So, one fate was avoided. It was at this point Marinette felt the mental shock. A view into another universe, one were the blonde terror came to the school and immediately started to berate her as low-class, that her macarons were tasteless, and screaming for a young bespectacled red-haired girl to follow her during recess. It was said girl that Marinette saw near the entrance of the school, looking just as lost. The vision of the other universe fresh in her head, she walked over and opened up the box her father had provided. “Hi, my name is Marinette! Would you like a macaron?” The girl seemed to hesitate for a moment, almost as if she was questioning Marinette's motives and if this was, in fact, real. But then she looked down into the box, back towards her, and smiled. “I'm...Sabrina. It's nice to meet you! Um, do you have any strawberry ones?”

- We were inseparable from that day forward, best friends forevermore. Where would I be without Sabrina? Probably some stuttering mess. We each seemed to calm different parts of ourselves; her stopping my anxious “spirals” before they even start, and me encouraging her to stand up for herself. There's a strong mutual respect and understanding between us both; she's smart in the areas I'm not, and in turn I make up where she may falter. While I'm thankful for a lot of the “shocks” and their guidance, that one in particular has a special place in my heart as it gave two souls support and friendship. And two we were, until five years later a shock gave us our “missing” sister.

Friendship Day. An annual scavenger hunt across all of Paris. Usually Sabrina and I don't participate, but a shock a few days ago convinced me to have us both take part this year. The celebrity we were supposed to try and find was Jagged Stone, and that's kind of cool, but at the same time we couldn't work together to try and do it. The rules of the day meant that a new “friend” would be assigned to us at random.

Which is a shame, because Sabrina and I probably could have made short work this whole thing.

My phone buzzed with the first clue, “With one turn of a handle, I can raise the level.” That was easy enough, the Canal Saint-Martin. That wasn't even very far away, maybe a few blocks. I thought back to what was shown to me in the shock while walking towards the canal lock. It was of a girl with black and purple hair and a boy with teal hair. Both of them had their backs turned, so I had no idea what they looked like, but...

...it seemed I was going to meet one of them today. The girl on the bridge looked almost the same as the one in my vision, though shorter somehow? But the hair was a dead giveaway, along with the fact that her clothing also seemed similar.

And that she had her back to me. I guess the best approach would be direct?

“Um, hello!”

That seemed to startle her more than anything, though she slowly turned around. Her face was covered by her hair, and her expression was one of fear. But we briefly locked eyes, and something in her seemed to calm right away. Enough for her to haltingly mumble something out. I barely caught it.

“Hello. I'm Juleka.”

In the end, it turned out she was more scared about searching for Jagged Stone than meeting me; apparently her mother had something against him and she didn't really want Juleka to take part, but was free to do so anyways. Though we kept following the clues, we both eventually gave up the hunt and started to talk more about our lives. It turned out we had a few similar interests, and by the end of the day when we met up with Sabrina I had grown used to Juleka's unique way of speaking French.

It took Sabrina more time to get there, though.

“I couldn't believe it Nettie, all she kept going on about was how “utterly ridiculous” I was! Everything from what I was wearing to if I couldn't get one of the clues right on the first try! I guess I drew the short straw on this whole thing.”

“It's alright Brina, you don't ever have to see her again at least.” I said, putting a supportive arm around her at the same time.

“I hope not. You know how I feel about bullies. But...” She turned her attention to the raven-haired girl sitting on the other side of me. “At least it looks like things were brighter on your end?”

“They were for sure! Juleka, this is Sabrina!”

Juleka's eyes darted up and down Sabrina, as if looking for some kind of hidden intention. After a moment, she breathed a small sigh of relief before letting out a mumble that was similar to what I had heard earlier in the day. Judging from the look on Sabrina's face, she hadn't quite caught what the other girl had said, so I served as a translator.

“She said it's nice to meet you.”

From then on, we were a trio. Three Musketeers, all for one and one for all. I wasn't sure how Juleka would influence us at first, it was only later I realized that her tastes ended up seeping into Sabrina and I unnoticed, enough that all of us were wearing darker clothing by the time we hit our teens, not to mention a nose piercing (for Sabrina) and hair dye (for myself, which more than surprised my parents the day I showed up at home from a sleepover with pink highlights in my black hair). But none of that was a bad thing, if anything we embraced it all. We understood Juleka when very few would bother trying; her accented French could come out sounding low or in mumbles to others, but we knew what she saying. Juleka could be as chaotic as her mother around the right people, and it seemed as though we were her people.

The three of us were together enough that a language was taking form among ourselves; an unholy mix of French, Scottish Gaelic, English, and some Mandarin. Every weekend a sleepover, either at my place, Juleka's houseboat or Sabrina's apartment. Sabrina had in fact been over more times than I could count, largely because her father, Roger, trusted my parents and knew she was in good hands. He worked long hours as a police officer but took a step back from front-line duties as Sabrina got older, not wanting to be in danger and leave Sabrina without a parent. It took Roger...longer to get used to both Juleka and Anarka, her mother, but in the end was won over by a weird shared taste in rock music. Sabrina had told me when he was younger that Roger upheld the law to the letter but had significantly mellowed out over the years, which was good as Anarka didn't exactly park her boat in entirely legal areas. Our first combined sleepover on the Liberty also caused him concern as the boat had ended up in another place entirely overnight, but seeing his daughter happy must have helped warm things over.

Not to mention my own parents helping in that respect, too. I dearly love my papa and my maman; both of them work so hard to keep the bakery running, which means long days and nights, but they always also find ways to make time for me. Occasionally I pitch in, there have even been periods when Sabrina has as well, and they get along with Roger and Anarka. They've even taken on Juleka's brother as a delivery driver!

Oh yes...Luka.

Houseboats aren't exactly meant to be stable. The swaying of the tides prevents that, same as if another boat comes along and tries to pull a smaller one into its wake.

Marinette gingerly took her steps onto the Liberty, the houseboat that belonged to the Couffaine family. It was her first time coming...aboard? She pondered what exactly to call it, as Juleka walked ahead of her. After coming over to her house a few times, the other girl decided that it was time to return the favour.

“And the Captain, my mathair, really wants to meet my new friends.”

This is how Marinette found herself aboard a boat for the first time. Feeling it bob up and down in the water wasn't helping things much, and the sudden sway in the river caused her footing to give way as she felt herself tumble backwards.

But someone caught her. She hadn't even realized someone was behind her, let alone able to catch her fall. But as she stared up into teal blue eyes, Marinette thought back to the boy in her vision from some time back. The boy who had teal hair and his back turned to her.

“Ah, thank you for catching me.”

“It's no trouble, living on a boat has its downsides. I've gotten used to the waves, they're as constant to me now as musical notes.”

That sounded familiar. It was if she had known him, but that couldn't have been possible, they had just met for the first time.

“So, what is your name? Mine is Luka.”

It had slightly caught her off guard, though Marinette should have known that question was coming. “Uh, my name is Mamamarinette!”

As Marinette dug her face into her sleeping bag to hide her shame, she just heard Luka give out a light chuckle.

“Hello, Ma-ma-marinette.”

I can admit to having a small crush on Luka. Love interests tend not to catch my attention until I've been friends with them for a while, something I've found out is being called demisexual. I'm content to let things build further and see where they go, and I think Luka has the same vibe. We haven't really done much aside from ice cream dates here and there. Besides, I only just turned fourteen. There's no need to rush anything, it's not like he's leaving any time soon. Anarka had come back to Paris so that Luka could attend a prestigious music school. Juleka was offered the same but she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to do yet, so of course Sabrina and I jumped at the chance to have her in our class, though it did mean she had to go down a grade because of odd timing.

We were now getting ready to enter our third year of school together. It seemed as though we wouldn't be switching classes, even with the addition of some new people into the school; I didn't pay attention to any of that but Sabrina had found out that not only was the daughter of the Mayor going to be in our school this year, but also the son of some famous fashion designer. Ag...something. Agreste maybe? That name had sounded familiar.

It didn't matter; nothing would change my year too much. Nothing exciting would happen, nothing out of the ordinary. I'm happy being normal, I'm happy in my life, with my friends.

But as I travelled to school, before meeting up with Sabrina and Juleka, little did I know my life would change in a big way. All because I picked up a small butterfly brooch that was lying in a puddle of water. I didn't even notice it at first but a purple jewel caught my sight. Bending down to pick it up, a terrible shock came to me, one of the worst I've ever experienced.

A vision of a girl in a ladybug outfit, a boy in leather made to look like a cat. Some figure calling himself “Hawkmoth”. A box that seemed to be filled with random jewellery. A bunch of mysterious figures that were guarding over said box, but it was stolen from a Temple-

“Nettie!”

I looked down the street and saw Sabrina calling out to me, with Juleka standing next to her. I couldn't just leave the broach, it seemed far too precious for that. Besides, if it gave off such a strong mental vision, maybe that meant that I was supposed to have it? I could always give it up later, and maybe someone was out looking for a piece of lost jewellery. Stuffing it into my pocket, I ran down to meet my friends. After school was over, maybe then I could figure out what to do with it.

For now, my last year at Collège Françoise Dupont was about to begin.

#marinette dupain cheng #juleka couffaine #sabrina raincomprix #butterfly marinette #endgame lukanette

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honeypirate · 4 years ago

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Kunikida Doppo x Fem!Reader

5495 words. I went hard for this guys.

I took Ango’s ability for the reader because I like it and so this is now an AU where the reader has the Discourse on Decadence ability and takes memories from objects touched.

I know they don’t all live together but they do in this fic haha at least Kunikida, Dazai, and you are roommates although you’re hardly ever there together. Half of the time Dazai doesn't even sleep there. You’re the only one that really frequents, if you didn't all share rent you would assume you lived there alone save for late night run ins in the kitchen and bathroom.

Warning: a couple swears.

Being in love with a man who was meticulous for following perfect schedules and plans was fine, you loved the structure and appreciated the consistency, but what really hurt, what really felt like your heart was ripped from your body with Akutagawa’s gift, was the fact that he had 58 conditions which he required for a spouse, and you only had 53 of them. You knew you failed his test, failed the expectations he had for a partner, and that someone as meticulous as him would never change his ways for someone who wasn’t above and beyond perfect when it came to those 58 ideals, but damn, you came so close, and that stung like a bitch.

You had asked him one day what they were, out of curiosity when it naturally came up from Dazai teasing him about it, he showed you it with pleasure, and you noted mentally the boxes you filled, your heart cracking into more pieces with every box you didnt fill. 5, 5 things about you that are failures. You couldn't help but hate the number.

You appeared at the door at 8am, right on the dot, the moment you were scheduled to be there and not a minute sooner or later. He really did like that about you, the fact that he never had to doubt you, he trusted that you always were where he scheduled you, you were the only one on the team that followed his orders to the T. “let’s go y/n we have to investigate a murder and your gift will really help” you nod with a smile “ready when you are”

“Why did you want to join the detective agency?” he asks, he wasn't a huge part of your entrance exam and missed the questioning part Dazai did. You sigh as you think, remembering the day you joined 7 months ago, clasping your hands behind your back as you walk, “at first it was because I wanted to rebel, my parents wanted me to hide my gift and act like their perfect child, I dropped out of college and decided to train my gift, ultimately leading me to you guys. After I learned about how other gifteds are using their powers to help people I realized that I was using my gift poorly. I felt an overwhelming need to protect others, to protect my city, if i have this gift and shirk the responsibility it comes with, then it is just as much my fault if innocents die when I could have been the one to help them”

He’s quiet for a while before he speaks again “that is admirable” is all he says before you get to your destination. If he was being honest, your answer was inspiring and he knows he would be writing it down in his notes later.

You do your investigating, using the memories from the objects on the scene to find the culprit easily, finishing the job quicker than he had planned leaving you with approximately 14 minutes to spare in the schedule. As he finishes writing down some notes you appear beside him “we have like 12-13 minutes left in your schedule so i got us some roasted bonito. I didn’t see you eat like you normally do so i figured..” you shrug and hand him the food you bought him. He takes it from your gloved hand silently, his gaze piercing and prudent, but his heart was racing, you were so kind and always looked out for him. He appreciated your care but didn’t know how to react to it. “Efficient because we can eat it on our way back. Finishing early is always nice, I love the free moments where my mind is able to relax and process things.” You say and He watches you take a bite and hum softly as you appreciate the flavor. He makes a mental note to schedule in an extra 2-3 minutes on missions he goes on with you just so he can give you a second to breathe if you need it.

You get back to the office with a few extra minutes to spare, you head to your desk to fill out paperwork and he watches you go, wondering why his heart seems to beat harder now that you left him. “Oooh does someone have a crush” Dazai says quietly as he teases Kunikida “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She is my coworker and besides,” “she lacks 5 of your spousal requirements yeah yeah. Maybe you're just a little too uptight with those 5, has anyone ever even gotten that close before?” Dazai looks at him with a smirk and Kunikida just walks off mumbling something about paperwork.

The rest of the day went by as all of the rest seemed to, slow and filled with paperwork and sometimes smaller missions, you didn't mind though, in the office you had a straight line to watch Kunikida, and on missions you were helping people. You didn’t mind slow days, it meant no one was dying.

You decided to break your routine, deciding to treat yourself to something special since your heart has been hurting for so long. You had a plan of getting something for dinner, doing a little indulgent spending, and then going home to drink a glass of wine and have a facemask and a movie night. You told Naomi of your plan since you two were close like sisters, not in her definition of a sibling though.

You had dinner at your favorite restaurant, eating in the booth with the window that showed the sunset, then went to your favorite stores, buying a new silk red pajama set with shorts that had white lace around the leg openings. You bought a new red pencil skirt for work and a necklace that would match it.

When you get home it’s so quiet you assume no one is there, you put your things away and shower before changing into your new pajamas, you had to admit, you looked delectable in them. You got a glass of wine and then took the bottle with you to your room to watch a movie. After about two glasses and half of the movie you felt a little tired so you decided to go to bed, you brought your glass and the wine back to the kitchen, wanting to put the bottle away in its cupboard and wash your cup. Although you only had two glasses you could feel your skin buzzing from the alcohol.

As you go to put the bottle away you get startled when a voice speaks in the dark “What are you doing up so late?” His deep voice makes you jump and drop the glass and the bottle onto the floor around your bare feet, wine and glass going everywhere. “Hang on” he says and walks over, gently and easily lifting you up to sit on the countertop behind you as he grabbed towels and a broom to clean up the mess “i’m sorry Kunikida, you scared me but I should have been more careful” you whisper, why does the darkness of night always make you feel like you should whisper? “I’m sorry for frightening you, you have nothing to apologize for” he finishes cleaning up the mess, throwing out the glass and paper towels before turning back to you. “You never answered my question” he says and you smile sweetly “just putting back the wine” you say innocently and a smile threatens to tug on his lips.

“Oh you got wine on you” he says and before he realizes his actions he’s kneeled down on one knee, holding your foot gently and cleaning away the wine that has sprayed up your leg. “Ouch” you say and pull your foot away “what hurts?” he asks and then turns your foot gently “you have a piece of glass in your foot” he says and then gently pulls it free “wait here I am going to go get the first aid kit” before you can object he’s gone, down the hall to the bathroom.

When he comes back you’re swinging your feet softly and humming along to a song stuck in your head, he pauses for a moment at the doorway, noting how long and beautiful your legs looked in your new pajamas, you made his mouth dry

He came back, kneeling down once again to hold your foot, cleaning it with some peroxide before applying some neosporin and a bandaid, his cheeks flushed as he uses all of his willpower not to run his hands up your legs and grip your thighs, pushing your legs apart as he stands between them, kissing your soft- he cuts those thoughts short, you didn't meet the requirements, you weren’t the one.

When he stood you followed what the alcohol in your veins was telling you, leaning into him you lay your head against the tall man's chest as you hugged him. “Thank you for always protecting me Kunikida” his hands find their way to your back, he can smell your shampoo and the natural scent of your skin, it's intoxicating to him.

He had two choices, push you as far away as he could and reprimand you even though he is just as at fault, or embrace you and throw his list out the window. Maybe Dazai was right and he was too stuck up with the list, he was sure about one thing, that you were the only one who almost filled the entire list, the other five being self indulgent he could cross them out and then you would be the one. He was so confused, his life was his book, he was his book, his ideals were everything. Good thing ideals can change and evolve with time.

You pull back and push him away softly before hopping down from the counter, your hands on his shoulders as you look up at him. He smiles down at you, a lovely smile that looked so genuine, filled with unspeakable loneliness in his eyes. You reach up and untie the crimson ribbon around his neck and stand on your tiptoes, kissing his cheek/chin and whispering a goodnight before walking off back to your bedroom. If he reprimanded you tomorrow you would blame the drinks and claim to be a lightweight.

The next morning you wear your new crimson red pencil skirt, a white blouse tucked in, and the ribbon you took from Kunikida, around your neck twice and tied in bow, like the perfect choker that puts the necklace you bought the day before to shame. You slip on your black heels and exit your room, heading down to the kitchen to have a coffee and some breakfast, you’re usually up and out the door before everyone else so that you can take the long way to work, through the park to see the spring blooming.

“You’re up early” his voice shocks you again, but this time you keep a hold on your coffee cup “I could say the same to you, I’m always up at this time. Coffee?” he nods with a small smile and you turn around to poor him some from the pot you made, he never knew who made coffee, he knew that it was made when he got up but assumed you just put it on a timer, not that you were already up at this hour since you came into work right on time when you were scheduled. He wonders what you do with your mornings.

You hand him a cup and he takes it with a smile “thank you y/n” he says and you nod “no problem” you go back to making your breakfast, pretending like last night’s incident isn’t fresh on your mind, until your toe kicks a piece of glass that was stuck under the lower cabinet. You crouch down, picking up the piece as Kinikida comes around “you’re not one to miss something Kunikida” you hold it up with a sly smile “If i didn’t know better, I’d say I really flustered you last night” (if i didn't know about your list is more like it) his heart was racing, you did fluster him, “nonsense” he says, taking the glass and disposing of it, pretending to not notice the necklace you had made from his ribbon around your neck, or the way that you looked practically kneeling in front of him.

You laugh as you stand, going back about your business, wrapping your breakfast up and throwing your bag over your shoulder before grabbing your travel coffee mug and sending him another, albeit fake this time, smile, “nonsense, I know I know, I don't even make the list. 58. I’ll see you at the office, Kunikida.” You bow slightly before leaving him in the kitchen, just as flustered as you had him last night, if you had pushed just a little more, he would have confessed, confessed that he has practically rewritten his list around you. Part of him wonders where you’re off to, you’re not scheduled for another hour and a half and he knows for a fact the walk takes ten minutes. He sighs, finishing his coffee, if he wanted to know he would just ask you later.

The day went by smoothly, you did your missions, did your paperwork, and went home. Sadly though, because of a fight during a mission, you lost the ribbon you took from Kunikida and in turn got a ring of budding bruises and burns because of the villain using it to try and strangle you. What was worse was that you weren’t able to even see Kunikida for the rest of the day.

You walked up the steps of the home slowly, making sure you didn’t wake anyone, if they were even here, it’s past 11 now, your last fight took a while and so did the paperwork. If you shower quickly you can give yourself at least 20 minutes of time to relax and process before going to sleep, already hating your morning alarm.

You head to your room, take off your clothing and hang them up, placing the hanger by the door so that you can drop it by the dry cleaners in the morning. Once inside the bathroom you start the shower to warm up, looking at yourself in the mirror you gently touch your neck, hissing at the pain and quickly retreating your fingers. Sighing, you run your fingers through your hair, blood dried and caked in a few places making your fingers get stuck on tangles, you grab your comb and take it into the shower with you, combing through gently after it’s been washed and conditioned.

You sigh again, grabbing the wine bottle, before you even reach for a glass you think better of it, uncorking it and drinking straight from the bottle. The sound of the bottom of the bottle scraping as you placed it down against the marble sounded loud in the quiet, dark room, but compared to the sound of the feet stomping down the stairs it was silent.

You take another drink then gasp as the light turns on in the kitchen, causing you to yet again drop what you were holding on to the floor, the bottle shattering around your feet and your head hanging, this isn't what you needed, something else to keep you from sleep. Before you can even think of bending down to clean up the mess, you are lifted to the counter again, the same as the previous night, but what made it different was the gentle fingers, turning your face up to look at him.

“We have to stop meeting like this” you say, trying to diffuse the tension, but by the way his lips turned down into a frown, made you break, you couldn’t get reprimanded right now, not by him, not by the one person you wish would comfort you. You tear your head from his grasp, looking back down at your lap as the tears gather in your eyes and your throat tightens in what feels like agony.

“Stay here” he says as he disappears, once he’s gone your face scrunches up, failing to hold back tears anymore you cover your face with your hands, muffling your cries and hiding your face even though the hot tears just slid down your palms and off your chin, hitting your thighs silently.

When he gets back he pauses, seeing you look so vulnerable, at your end, he’s never seen you like this and it absolutely kills him. he knows his damn list, knows what he has said before, but somehow, regardless of his words or actions, his heart has chosen for itself. He crosses the room in seconds, sets the first aid kit down beside you, and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest.

your hands find their way around his back, grabbing fistfulls of the shirt he was wearing, your face buried in his chest as your tears soaked through the fabric. He held you tight, his hand smoothing down your hair as your sobs wracked through you. When you were done crying he held you longer, waiting for when you were ready, when you would pull away.

All he can think about as he holds you was how pissed off he was when Dazai told him you were attacked, how pissed off he was at the villian you fought. But so proud of you for your win, for your fighting skills, he was told you were almost killed, almost strangled to death with your necklace, the necklace that was made from his ribbon. It made him angry because he wasn't there to keep that from happening, he knew you were strong but he felt this pit in his stomach, that he was so close to losing you and you didn't even know that he cared so much for you. The way Dazai looked at him made him angrier, all he could do was change the subject and finish paperwork. He was worried about you. When he heard you in the shower he was grateful you were home, he resisted going to you when he heard you back in your room, told himself to go to sleep when he heard your footsteps go back down the steps. But when he didn’t hear you come back in a few minutes he couldn’t control himself, running down the steps as quick as he could, he couldn't help it, he needed to make sure you were okay.

When you pulled back from him you felt embarrassed, “Sorry Kuni-” he tilts your head up to look at him “you have nothing to be sorry about” he whispers, brushing your tears away and then leans down to kiss your forehead. You gasp in shock as he acts like this was a normal thing between you two, looking at him with wide, bloodshot eyes as he grabs the first aid kit. He takes out the Neosporin and then puts some on his fingers before gently rubbing some on your neck, you hiss and pull away from the pain “I’m sorry” he says and you shake your head before taking his other hand, holding it as you tilt your face away to expose your neck better in the light.

He frowns as he sees the extent of damage your neck took. “I’m sorry for taking your ribbon. Karma, i guess” you whisper through gritted teeth as he gently applies the cream to your neck, the broken bottle and spilled wine forgotten about for the time being. “Hush” he says and squeezes your hand, he moves to the other side of your neck and you roll your head to keep the correct side of the wound in the light. His touch feels nice on your neck, his gentle cool fingers against your angry red, wounded neck, you sigh softly, a sweet sound to his ears. He squeezes your hand again as he finishes his work and you drop it, turning your face to look at him.

“You can have any ribbon of mine you want” he says calmly as he grabs a hand towel from the counter and crouches down, wiping up the wine carefully. You look down at him with your eyebrows raised “Kunikida?” He looks up at you from your feet “what?” He responds and you chuckle softly, your stuffy nose changing the sound “why are you being so nice to me?” He looks back down to his cleaning so you don’t see his blushing cheeks, his heart beating wildly, “what do you mean? I’m a nice guy” he says and you laugh “you are. But you’re making me feel special, that’s usually not your M.O. I mean I’m not even that worthy by your standards.” You say and you feel your heart crack at finally saying the truth out loud.

He sighs, the weight in the room heavy as he finishes cleaning up the wine and glass, just throwing away the glass towel, making a mental note to buy a replacement tomorrow. He walks back over to where you are, still sitting on the counter, looking down at your toes and focusing on the cool tile under your palms and the way the heat in your neck throbs.

He places his palms against your knees, gently opening them to stand between them, you gasp as he places his fingers under your chin and tilts your face up to look at him. He looks fiercely serious and your eyes flick down to his lips for a second before meeting his eye again, blushing as he smirks at your actions.

“Y/n” he starts, his voice deep and as serious as he looks, you don’t know if he’s going to reprimand you or not. “Where do you go in the morning before work?” he asks and a chuckle bubbles out your throat “Kunikida, here I thought you were going to kiss me but instead you wanted to ask me about my morning ritual? Come with me in the morning and you can see” he nods, his cheeks pink “okay I will” he says and then picks you up easily into his arms “what are you doing? Oh god please don’t drop me” he chuckles as you cling to him and doesn’t say anything as he carries you upstairs to your bedroom, tucking you in and kissing your forehead, successfully confusing the hell out of you as you watch him leave your room “we’ll talk over breakfast. Get a good rest” he says as he closes your door behind him.

The next morning you’re up a little earlier than usual, excited to have Kunikida accompany you before work. You dress in a dark green pencil skirt with a cream blouse tucked in and black heels. You layer a couple long gold necklaces, making sure to avoid the still red and bruising marks, and put on some matching earrings, you style your hair up in a neat bun, leaving out a few whispies to frame your face. You put on a little makeup to accentuate your features before leaving your bedroom and taking along your clothes to drop off at the cleaners. When you get downstairs Kunikida is already there, pouring you a cup of coffee.

Your stomach flips when you see him, your breath hitching as you watch him pour the coffee into your travel mugs. You feel your face flush as he looks up to you in the doorway “goodmorning Y/n” he says, setting the pot down and walking over to you. He reaches out and gently takes your chin in his hand, tilting your head back to examine your neck. “Let’s put more medicine on this, it will probably take away some of the pain.”

“Should I sit on the counter again?” your voice was low and teasing, your hand coming up to rest on his chest. His heart beat is so loud in his ears he hopes you can’t feel it under your palm on his chest.

Your breath hitches as you gaze up at him, his eyes flicking to your lips as you stand close together in the kitchen. “Yes that might be wise” he says and places his hands on your hips as he leads you around to the island behind him, your butt bumps into the counter and he swiftly lifts you back to the countertop. You chuckle, steadying yourself by holding his shoulders.

“I’m starting to think you like me up here” you tease, smiling at him, the height of the counter making you almost eye to eye.

His cheeks dust a light shade of pink as he pushes up his glasses, “i’m just trying to take care of you since it was my ribbon that did this to you”

He gently grabs your chin again, looking into your eyes for a moment, the tension in the air thick as you smiled sweetly, his tongue wets his bottom lip and your eyes flick down to them, when you look back up at him his eyes are dark and you can tell he wants to kiss you, a soft chuckle escapes your lips and it seems to shake him out of it. He turns your head gently and grabs the neosporin.

“Thank you Kunikida. I’m sure i will heal quicker because of your care.” you whisper as he begins on the other side. “I surely hope so.” he states. Your hands are on your lap as you play with your fingers, waiting patiently for him to finish.

“Are you ready to see what I do in the morning?” you ask when he finishes his work, your eyes finding his again. He nods “yes, I am truly excited to go with you.” You place your hands on his shoulders and slip off the counter, pressing yourself against him you stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek “thank you. For the care and the coffee” You use your thumb to softly wipe the lip gloss from his cheek before slipping past him, grabbing your coffee and slipping your bag across your shoulder and grabbing last night's clothes.

You take a sip of your coffee and then smile at him “Ready?” you ask and he nods, your bright smile making his heart race as he picks up his coffee and bag and follows you out of the kitchen.

You walk the opposite direction from the office and he quirks his eyebrow at you but says nothing as he follows, his stomach in nervous excited knots. He takes a sip of his coffee, hoping the hot bean liquid would help him relax.

After you drop off your clothes you take him to the bread shop a few blocks away, getting a bagel for breakfast where he opted for a croissant. You showed him your favorite building, a small home that was ancient and still standing surrounded by the tall glass buildings and businesses. You stopped for a moment to talk to the lovely old lady who lived there, she was always tending her flower garden when you passed in the morning and you became good friends with her.

“Who is this? Your sweetheart?” she asks and you chuckle “This is Kunikida, we work together” you say with a small smile and she looks at you knowingly “Oh honey if i had a coworker who looked at me the way he looked at you,” she doesn't finish the sentence, she just sends you a pointed look causing your cheeks to flush as you chuckle, Kunikida just watches you with a smile, loving how cute you look when you blush.

The next stop was the park, since it is the spring the flowers are in bloom and it all looks pretty, you sit down at your usual bench that overlooks the majority of the area, the sun in the sky warming your shoulders as the shadows of the trees dance across your features, Kunikida sits by you, drinking in your presence as he watches you truly enjoy every moment you are in.

“You said we would talk today. Is now a good time or maybe later during lunch? That is if we don’t get last minute missions” you finish your coffee and place your cup in your bag. He sighs, looking out across the park and he pushes up his glasses “You have perplexed me.” he says you laugh, a little confused. You turn to him and watch him, waiting for him to continue.

“I am my ideal. Ideals that mean everything. I have my protocol and I stick to it no matter what. Everything is planned, work is structured. It is how I thrive. I have these ideals and requirements. But then you joined the group and slowly you have captured my heart.” he turns his head to look into your eyes now, they are full of raw emotion that leaves you speechless.

“Kuni-” he takes your hand and it silences you “My list” he says and reaches up to wrap your whispies around his finger “all it has on it now is you”

Your heart stops and your breath catches as he confesses his feelings, this man who is all ideals and protocol, who you have been in love with since you started working with, who you never thought you would have a chance with, is holding your hand and telling you that his only requirement for a partner, is that it is you.

“What about your list of 58? This is very unlike you Kunikida” you whisper, your heart going positively wild at his confession, you never thought he would be the one to change part of his ideal. It was completely out of character. “You are hundreds, thousands of things that make my life sweeter. Who needs 58 when you give me all” your breath catches and he leans down, pressing his forehead into yours.

“Please tell me you feel this too” you chuckle, your hand coming to rest on his cheek “I feel this too. Kunikida I-” he captures your lips with his, a kiss that has been built up with tension over the past few days, you sigh and reach up, your hand ghosting over his cheek and neck before landing on his pony, wrapping the strands around your fingers. His free hand is cupping your cheek gently, his fingers brushing against your skin as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you sigh as you touch your tongue to his, the feeling of electricity coursing through your veins.

Your phone beeps and you groan, pulling back from him as you look down at it, reading the message that has come through, his hand was still playing with your hair.“What is it?” you sigh and look up at him, forgetting about how close your faces were until your noses brushed “Dazai says to come in as soon as possible so we should go now-” he pecks your lips softly and stands, pulling you up with him

“Always more work to do” he says and you smile, he was right as per usual. He holds out his hand and you take it with a smile, lacing your fingers together as you continue your walk. “Are we going to tell the others?” You ask, really unsure yourself about what was best “yes. There will be paperwork to do but I’ve had it on my desk for a while now” you chuckle “you have?!” He nods “ Dazai gave them to me. He knew how I felt before I did” you laugh “Dazai always knows. He caught me looking at you once and I had to promise him if you didn’t feel the same that I had to help him with his suicide mission, just so he wouldn’t tell you my feelings first” you both make mental notes to talk to Dazai. You stop outside the doors and pull him down into another soft kiss, when you pull back you smile up at him and he chuckles “be safe today” he says as he looks over your neck again and you nod “yes sir” you say and chuckle at the emotion that flashes in his eyes you lean forward “i wish we had to time to explore that. Too bad we have to work” you kiss his neck and then pull back, opening the door and walking into the building chuckling. Daizai watching with a knowing smirk from the window above.

#bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida fluff #kunikida imagines #kunikida x reader #kunikida x you #kunikida x y/n #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo x reader #kunikida doppo x you

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ellestra · 4 years ago

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Villainous turn

The final moment of this episode showing John Walker murdering the man who once believed in all that Captain America stood for. That moment when he fully went the road we could clearly see for him from the beginning. It’s the same story we saw with Nuke on Jessica Jones. I actually find Wil more sympathetic since John chosen the path of heroism instead of being triggered by an incredible act of violation. But the same fault lines can be seen in both. And in both cases it is sad as in another circumstances they could be OK people.

It’s the same need to be a centre of the story and inability to deal with both failure (and getting his ass kicked by powerful women) and not being the hero. That need to call the shots and be centre of the action. And yes, they tried to hold back, Wil when he followed Jessica’s plans at first and John when he would stand down, and let Sam try his idea (or generally not attack people). But it doesn’t last and every time they failed just made the rage grow. If only they could do it their own way. If only they had power to make it go their way.

It really comes down to the need to be THE HERO. Not just help or even be a hero but to be the one who defeats the Flag Smashers and takes down Karli Morgenthau (so Sam talking her down just wouldn’t do) and be the one who arrests Zemo (so Dora Milaje taking him is out of the question). He cannot not be the protagonist of the story. He must be the one the story revolves around.

And Lemar both tempers this as the only one who can stop John even if for a moment but also helps to prop up the ideas of John’s self and helps John get over his doubts. His more of the sounding board and a voice in John’s head than his own character and it’s painful because of all the black sidekick tropes he embodies and because he gets fridge for John’s heel break. The trigger for the fall in front the whole world watching. This was more effective killing of Captain America than if Walker had died. I suppose Karli got to break her symbols after all.

But of course Karli isn’t that much different from John. She too believes her side is the right one and she doesn’t even consider other points of view. It’s clear in the way she reacts to Sam telling her some see her as supremacist. She can’t even fathom they may see her a such. It’s the other side that’s evil. She only does what she must. No matter that she threatens Sam’s sister - a person who lived through those 5 years and who she’s supposed to be fighting for - to get her way.

She’s also not that different from Zemo. He too bombed a building and killed people in it to further his cause. It was necessary because ends justify the means. It was always the other side’s fault. They made me do it. But just because her cause is right it doesn’t make what she does OK. Just because others are bad to it doesn’t make it OK.

She believes herself and her friends to be the chosen ones. Put together by fate to right injustice and save the world. It was fate that brought them powers and they got them to change the world. This messianic calling justifies everything. And she suffers for it because in the end the death of her friend was a consequence of her choices. She decided to lure Sam and Bucky away and get John into a trap to kill him.

We see both Karli and John Walker suffer consequences of their choices. And becoming even more convinced they were right trying to kill each other while ignoring the fact that their own actions are the reason the deaths happened. It wasn’t their fault. It’s only because the other side that is evil.

(I bet Karli outright believes that she’s done nothing wrong because she didn’t mean to kill Lamar - they even kept him safely stacked away - and it was an accident on the way to kill John and John, of course, believes he was justified because that was a terrorist who was part of the cell responsible for the death of his friend and not a cold murder of a man begging for mercy.)

They both prove Zemo’s warnings about superpowered people true. The very idea of having superpowers is inherently tied to the idea of being better than others. It’s no accident Nazis loved their supermen. And John and Karli both think that their causes are more valid if they become more powerful in fighting for them. All the people we could’ve saved if we had those powers becomes all the people in our way we can kill with them.

But Zemo isn’t really that different from them either. He also believes his cause justifies all he does. Including killing anyone standing in the way to achieve his goals. This was behind the bombing of the UN building. And everyone he used along the way - from Bucky to those kids. And I really appreciated the call back to one of the most classic villains with that Turkish Delight. Like with Karli and John there might be a truth to his cause but that’s not enough.

None of these stands leaves any place for people. There are groups that are the enemy not individuals. An easy target to hate and destroy and once that is done the new better world will emerge. But of course this is scapegoating. And of course nothing is that easy.

Neither the returned nor the left behind chose their fates and both got their lives turned upside down by the events. Even if GRC was full of people only doing their best and making the right decisions all the time the scale of the problem is too big to be solved quick. And superheroes weren’t responsible for the war that ravaged Sokovia when Wanda was a kid. Zemo’s wealth just let him ignore the lack of safety before Ultron came along.

The belief that only if everyone in the world see it my way we could all live in peace and everything would be awesome. The perfect excuse to murder anyone who disagrees. We laugh when Peacemaker says in Suicide Squad that he doesn’t care how many men, women and children he has to kill to achieve peace but this is exactly this kind of thinking that we see here.

This is getting way too long so this is the end of part 1. The hero part is in part 2.

Part 2

#the falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #john walker #karli morgenthau #helmut zemo #ayo #dora milaje #lemar hoskins #nuke #Jessica Jones #Will Simpson #falcon #winter soldier #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #captain america #tfatws

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script-nef · 5 years ago

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Farewell | Kageyama Tobio

Category: angst

Warning: Allusions of death

1.6k words; “Don’t come too soon, okay? I love you.”

"Tobio."

Your voice is soft. He never likes it when you talk to him with it. It's reserved for bad news, for persuasion, filled with such tenderness and love so he can't deny or say no.

"Tobio."

But he still loves it. Because it's you.

"Tobio, you have to let me go. You can't follow me."

He wants to drown in you. He wants to lay his body on top of yours, covering you with his presence, leaving no space between the two of you. He wants to feel the softness of your palms contrasting against his coarse ones, breathe in the scent of your shared shampoo, gaze into the endless abyss of your eyes.

Your soft chuckle melts him. It feels like it's been ages since he last heard it. The way your fingers sift through his hair and gently scratch at his scalp always reduces him into a putty in your hands. It feels like heaven right now, just you and him. Alone. In this inky darkness with no one else around. He wants to spend an eternity here.

"Tobio, you have to go back to your friends." He shakes his head, digging it into your belly which is covered by a white dress. You love this dress. You smiled so happily when you opened the present and gifted him with the most beautiful sight. "Now, now. You're much too old to be acting like this. Your whole life is awaiting you, and you're too young to leave it behind. Ah, see? They’re all here for you."

Reluctantly, he lifts his head up to see where you're pointing. Everyone's standing in a wide spotlight; Hinata’s yelling something incoherent at him, Sugawara-san has tears in his eyes, Tsukishima's scowling as usual, Ushijima-san, Hoshiumi-san, ah—even Oikawa-san. They seem uncharacteristically distressed. His family is also there, eyes puffy and red. He hasn’t seen his sister cry that much since his grandfather’s funeral. Everyone who has ever meant something to him is there. Their hands are stretched out for him, calling for him to take it.

He turns back to you. There's a sad smile on your face, one that he can't take away. Something twists in his stomach, an ominous dread trying to climb up his body. The light feels like it’s burning onto his back, screaming for attention and calling for him. He just wants to curl deeper into your embrace.

"They're here to help you go back. Before it's too late."

"I don't… want to leave you." You stare at him. A tear rolls down your cheek, then another, then another. He catches all of them with his fingers, sweeping them against your skin before they can reach your clothes. You mirror his movements, cupping his face, and press a kiss to his nose.

"Oh, Tobio. You're not leaving me, I'm the one who has to go. But I'm not completely gone, okay? I'll be here," you caress his head, "and here." His heart. "As long as you remember me and my love, I'll never truly leave you. And this," you pull at his left hand, at the ring which clinks against yours, "this is a proof of our bond. I don't care if you find another person, just promise me you won't get rid of it."

"I'll never find anyone else." His reply is immediate. He doesn't understand why you would even fathom the idea of him falling for someone else. He's given you his heart and his soul; it's impossible for him to ever love anyone as much as he loves you. Your lips tremble and he doesn't waste any time pressing his to it.

The sounds fill the empty space. It’s salty. He hates the taste, he always did. Even when it’s of joy, like the moment you kissed him after saying yes. The only thing in his vow was to keep you happy forever, and the taste mocks him for his failure. He presses harder against your lips.

Your skin feels lighter, like you’re drifting away. Panic grips at his heart. Not yet, please, not yet. There’s so much he has to say to you, all the things that went unsaid in the years you spent together. I need to tell you—

"I'm sorry. I should have looked where we were going. I should have paid more attention. If I did, then may—"

"No." His eyes snap open at your words. Your mouth is set into a hard line, and it causes a shiver to go up his spine. "You're not in the wrong. You did pay attention. The other guy didn't. You are not the cause for this. Tell me you won't live with that."

Cries clog his throat and he can't do anything but lower his head onto your lap again. He can't believe you. How can you be so loving, so selfless even at this moment? How could he be so lucky? He wants to beg the Gods, any Gods, to switch your position with him.

Voices scream in his head. It is my fault, I should have been more cautious, I should have reacted faster, I should have pushed you away, you wanted to stay in today, why was I stubborn, why didn't I listen to you, why, why, why, wh—

"Tobio."

Your voice is like a lifeline. A shuddering gasp, a cry for forgiveness spills past his lips. He feels your arms enveloping his body, gentle and comforting. His own arms loop around your waist, clinging onto your form like it’s the only thing he can do.

“I know you’re going to blame yourself. But please, remember all the other memories we shared. When you think of me, it should be joyous memories we created, all the fights we had, the things we experienced together. It should be ones of love.” His tears stain your clothes. “I don’t blame you, Tobio.”

I do. The words push against his teeth, but he forces them back down. You’d cry if you ever heard that. So he lowers his head onto your lap again, engraving the sensation of your hands rubbing against his head and the back of his neck into his brain. Your scent, how your skin feels, your soft giggles, your voice in his ears, the warmth of your body—all of it. You’re fading away, like a ghostly apparition. He needs to memorise all of these before you disappear completely.

He stays like this for minutes—hours?—until his tears leave dried imprints on his cheeks and his eyes swell up. You slowly lift his face and wipe the remaining drops from his lashes, kissing him on each eyelid.

“Time to go, my love.” There’s a dull thud in his chest. He wants to say no, but you’re nearly transparent now. He doesn’t have any reason to stay here if you’re not. You help him stand up, dusting his clothes off and kiss him again. His feet feel like lead, dragging across the ground as he slowly makes his way to the light. Your presence next to him disappears and he immediately whips back, panic clawing at his chest. You’ve stopped walking.

“This is the furthest I can go. Don’t come here. I’ll stay until you leave.”

A shaky nod is his response.

Everyone’s faces become clearer as he steps closer to them. They’re smiling tearfully, still shouting something silent at him. His fingers reach out to them before he knows what he’s doing and they all clamour to make contact.

He turns back to see you for the last time. There's someone else next to you. His eyes widen as the figure's face comes into view.

The face which sits on the kaminada back home, the face of the person who guided him towards his current life. You both wave at him, sending him off. He wants to run back to you, to his grandfather, stay in this place forever—or even just until you understand the extent of love he has for you.

But his fingers already crossed into the ray, and everyone’s hands pull him forward before he can retract it. He screams and shouts as his vision blurs for just one more minute! Please, that’s all I ask! I just—I just need one more minute! Wait—

Oh, you’re smiling. It’s the kind one, the one which tells him “it’s okay”, the one you give him every time he does something wrong or when he feels down. It’s the one he said he loved out of all of your smiles. Your lips move, corners still lifted up, and call something out to him. You’re getting farther away, blurring into the darkness hand-in-hand with his grandfather, but your whisper reaches him and—

The light is blinding when his eyes flutter open. There are shouts and yells all around him, his friends and associates leaning into view. Everyone from the spotlight is here. Concern mixed with happiness is present on their faces.

Their mouths move quickly, like they're asking him something. It all sounds like it's underwater, like his mind is drowning everything out. He can't move. It feels like the pain in his chest is spreading through his body, right down to the last hair on his head.

He feels so much, yet at the same time, nothing. There’s an empty cavern in his chest, a black hole.

Tears escape through his lashes, cascading down the sides of his faces and onto the bed sheets. The only thing echoing in his head are your last words to him.

“Don’t come too soon, okay? I love you.”

#kageyama x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#kageyama #kageyama tobio #angst #female reader

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littlefreya · 5 years ago

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The Way to Hell - Part 4

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it or parts of the source material and claiming it as your own*

Summary: Post Mi6 - August manages to escape with his face intact and just won himself the title of being the most dangerous man on earth. With every agent in the world on the hunt for him, life became a living hell, but that’s okay because hell is where he reigns.

Too bad for the woman who’ll stand in his way.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Ingvild)

Word count: 6K

Warnings: Explicit Smut, dark themes, male/female masturbation, bodily fluids, mentions of sexual encounters, dirty words, sexual threats. It’s August, he’s the baddest of bad boys!

A/N: Soooooo this chapter was fun to write, I hope you guys like it :)! Thanks @agniavateira for being my editor and my emotional support!

Title: Memento Mori

Funny, he’s never seen someone drown in icy water before. With her injury and massive blood loss, the struggle doesn’t last longer than a minute. This is beyond her natural survival instincts, gradually her muscles give up, running stiff as the blood in her veins chills.

August stares with rapt. Not once did the Valkyrie scream for help, or even begged him to save her.

Truth be told, it kinda pisses him off as much as he finds it admirable.

‘Such a strong-willed girl. Would be a shame to rid the world of her so soon.’

“Whatever,” he mutters and carefully steps toward the crack in the ice. His hands hoist the body up before she sinks below the surface. With water in her lungs and her muscles rigid, she’s impossibly heavier.

A red path of blood tarnishes the ice as he drags her body toward the edge of the lake. There is no urgency in his behaviour, relaxed he kneels to stare at the lifeless woman and wonders if in her hubris this is how she believed this day will end.

Her skin is pale blue, lips dark purple. Drained out of wit and life, those delicate Scandinavian features look like something out of a fairytale and he muses whether a kiss will wake her up.

It won’t make any difference to the world if she’s dead or alive, it certainly won’t make any to August Walker.

His digits stroke her frozen cheek, sensing the skin is stretched over the hardened muscles. He tilts her head up and presses at the hollows of her cheeks to force her lips open. For some reason, he thinks of a different dead girl, though they are nothing alike.

Planting his mouth over hers, he breathes oxygen into her lungs. Her chest rises, filling with the air he breathes into her. He repeats the process four times and then begins compressing her heart, watching her corpse lie peacefully on the snow.

Never in his years of service had he needed to perform CPR on another person. It’s not as melodramatic as shown in the bullshit movies he’s seen; no one’s shouting “C’mon girl! Breathe!!!” and hits her chest in despair. The owls and bats that chant between the large trees and the wolves howling at the moon from a distance couldn’t care less if Ingvild, whatever her-last-name-is lives or dies.

On the contrary, they’ll be thrilled to eat her eyes out.

He pauses on his attempt to resuscitate her and watches as no change appears in her face. His hands rest in the air, hovering above her for less than a second, considering if to give her another chance. He leans to capture her mouth again when Ingvild suddenly twitches, gagging as water seeps through her mouth and nose like some decorative fountain.

August observes quietly. Her eyes are shut, her body is only reacting instinctively, coughing out the water in her lungs. He nudges her to the side, draining the water out until she stops coughing and lays unconscious on the ground.

He moves his ear closer, listening to her soft breaths. He wonders how long will she survive in such a condition, suffering from hypothermia and massive blood loss. Letting her drown might have been a favour, he might have just granted her a cruller death.

Blackness surrounds her, chaining her to the ground. An excruciating pain blossoms in her lungs, as if someone placed a massive weight that smothers her while her throat and her nose sear with pain. The rest of her body feels numb, someone might as well leave her limbless.

The image in front of her appears blurry as she attempts to open her eyes and hang on to the tendrils of reality, uncertain when and where she is and what happened at all. Was life just a dream?

Or was it a nightmare?

‘Liam?’

No voice is produced from her lips, she is not even sure they’re moving.

The face that greets her is certainly not Liam. It’s the man who granted her this agonizing death. He looks at her with silent curiosity, not saying a word as her glassy eyes become more and more vibrant.

Her hands suddenly reach to his throat, clutching him with all the energy left in her traumatized body. As battered as she is, he still has to use force to peel her claws off of him. She struggles, grunting and hissing, her nails leave bleeding scratches over his cheek.

“Remember you are only alive for as long as I permit it.” August speaks to her calmly, impressed by her stubborn will to kill him even when she’s hanging by the last thread of her pathetic life.

The struggle takes no longer than a few seconds as her eyes roll back and she falls to the ground, unconscious again.

August collects her in his arms and rises, carrying her through the woods. “Better this way, princess,” he whispers to the sleeping beauty in his arms. The temperature of the water has slowed the bleeding, causing the blood vessels to clot and reduce the pace of her heartbeat. It benefits in keeping her alive, but it’s also slowly killing her.

He returns to the bed and breakfast to be greeted by the receptionist who stares at him, baffled.

“Too much to drink,” he explains, offering her a charming smile as he continues marching toward his room with the unconscious girl in his arms.

~*~

“Fucking mess,” he mutters as he enters the room and shuts the door behind him with his leg. That stab wound may be bleeding slower now, he hasn’t ruptured any viable organs. However, the gash in her flesh is large and still needs to be dressed.

He drags her to the bath and puts her on her feet, letting her limp body lean onto his while he unzips her suit and boots, stripping her to her undergarments. A crescent-like slit gushes blood at the side of her abdomen.

August places her in the empty bathtub before grabbing the first aid kit he bought at the hunters’ shop. Being a wanted man now, he had to be prepared for everything.

It was nearly him tonight that needed that first aid kit.

The scent of alcohol fills the room as he pours it onto her open wound. He waits for a response from her, maybe a twitch from the excruciating pain, yet Ingvild is so far gone she doesn’t react whatsoever. His finger presses to the tendon in her neck, only to make sure he is not taking care of a dead girl.

A faint pulse is there; her heart still beats. Yet her body is as cold as ice, and he knows that if he won’t take care of her soon her systems will begin to shut down one organ after the other. He sews her wound shut quickly, making unfashionable stitches across the wound.

“Sorry love, no more bikini for you.” he mocks the sleeping girl. “Although porn sites must be filled with scar-porn, so you’re good.”

After stitching her up and dressing the wound, he carries her back to the bedroom and lays her on the bed. Her skin is shivering, frozen and pale as death itself. She has hypothermia and needs to have her body temperature stabilized before every one of her major organs will go into failure.

“Not how I pictured us getting into bed naked,” August jokes without humour while beginning to peel off his clothes until he is completely bare. He towers over her trembling form and watches how helpless she appears. His hands run down her spine, reaching to find the hooks of her bra. It takes no effort to unclasp the flimsy soaked fabric and discard it on the floor. Next, he coldly and methodically slips her underwear off.

He takes no pleasure in stripping an unconscious woman who can’t defend herself or struggle, yet he cannot resist observing what’s laid right in front of his eyes.

The sight is indeed pleasing.

‘Hate me later, princess. I am just a man.’

August climbs onto the bed and lies in front of her. He pulls her toward the warmth of his body until her forehead is pressed against his chest and every inch of her skin is covered by his own. With a clenched jaw, he holds her close.

In his arms she trembles, teeth chattering, while her heartbeat is feeble and can be hardly felt against his chest.

He thinks of nothing while holding the cold, half-dead girl against him.

Nothing at all.

Not the memory of another dead girl.

~*~

Ingvild scratches a scab on her knee, watching the other girls as they play without her. They stick their tongue at her and call her a freak. She doesn’t cry, only sniffles gently while her small fingers pry at the itchy skin.

“Ingvild,” Sister Marja walks toward her, making a sour face as she sees the girl. She never liked her either. “Someone is here to pick you up, finally.”

Little Ingvild jumps from the dirty log she is sitting on, brushing her skirt and arranging her braided pigtails before joining Sister Marja. ‘That uptight crone, all she needs is a good fuck.’

The sister hurries toward the orphanage while Ingvild runs after to keep up. Her heels echo on the floor through the arched hallway of the facility.

A man waits for them in the office of the Mother Superior, Yet another crone who looks like she never had a good fuck. But there is a smile on her face, making her loose skin become all creases and wrinkles like a dried rotten potato.

Ingvild looks at the man who stands with his hands behind his back. His hair is black with few threads of silver. She is uncertain if he is smiling or not; the expression on his face is of a person who’s trying to appear pleasant but in a very contained way.

“Ingvild, this is Liam.” Mother Superior speaks in her terrible heavy smoker voice. “He is your new adoptive father.”

~*~

Warm light strokes her face, forcing her eyes to blink open slowly. A basic function that suddenly feels oddly painful. Her eyelids are too heavy as if she never opened her eyes before in her life. The scenery around her is still too vague; she doesn’t recognize the room at all, wondering if she is in another dream.

A word in her own language blurts out of her mouth as she tries to sit up, accompanied by a small groan. Everything feels out of place as if her limbs have been misplaced and her internal organs exploded inside her body. Pain begins to course through her body, starting with the muscle of her right forearm which now feels extremely strained.

“Ah…” she grunts out, tugging at her arm which is in an odd position.. But for some reason, her arm won’t budge. It’s tied to the bedpost above her head by a tight rope.

‘This is hilarious. Like watching a dog wake up from anaesthesia.’

“Hva?” she asks in her mother’s tongue. “What?”

She gives the bind a few good moments of struggling before giving up. It’s when the heavy blanket that covers her slightly descends from her chest. She realizes she’s been completely stripped of her clothes.

Panicked, she hugs the cover to her chest with her free hand. Her eyes were looking around with slight anxiety while she continues to pull her right hand in an attempt to free herself.

The scent of coffee tickles at her nose, alerting her that she is not alone.

August appears in front of her with a red cup of coffee in his hand. He wears that familiar arrogant look with a hint of a smile, so vicious and cold it makes her feel she wasn’t only stripped off her clothes but of her skin and muscles as well.

Would have been better if I was stripped and bound to the devil’s bed.

He takes the wooden chair, dragging it on the floor which makes her cringe at the screeching sound. Fragments of the night before begin to fill the gaps in her memory. She tied him to this chair.

Placing it in front of her, he sits down, legs spread widely with confidence she can only describe to herself as irritating as fuck.

She hugs the cover tightly to her chest, her legs curling toward her torso to shelter herself which suddenly inflicts an excruciating pain in her lower abdomen making her moan involuntarily . Peeking beneath the thick blanket, she finds the large bandage on her torso, stained with a few drops of brownish-red blood.

“Good morning, love, we’ve had quite the night.”

More shards of memory begin to cut through her mind. Like remembering an event that happened so long ago, it almost feels like a dream. Her mind fights to make sense, to grasp at the fuller image. She recalls gasping through the woods at night with weak limbs and a hand full of blood. Then a shot that ripped through the night. Bats were flying everywhere and then her body was cold for some reason.

No, she was freezing.

Like a videotape that’s cut off and glitches in the middle, her memory stops there. Making her stare at the Scandinavian pattern on the blanket as if she will find any answers there.

“Who is Liam?” August asks, taking a long sip from his coffee. There is much amusement in seeing her cowering before him looking so helpless right now. Stripped, unarmed, and bound to his bed after he took her life and gave it back.

He licks his lips at her which only makes the alarmed look on her face become more distinguished.

“You’ve undressed me?” she asks, finding out her voice is aching and hoarse, as if something seared her throat. “And tied me to the bed?”

August’s teeth are exposed to her as his smile widens. She makes a note of two sharp fangs, it makes him look like a vampire. “Perceptive, aren’t we? Wasn’t for any personal interest, you were in hypothermia.”

He gives a small pause, his eyes travelling across her covered body, unable to deny how nice it was to wake up with a naked woman in his arms. “Not that I didn’t enjoy having your tits pressed to me for an entire night.”

Even as lost as she is, she can’t help but roll her eyes at him and groan with hatred.

‘If anyone in Icarus hears of this, I’m done for.’

Was the stinging pain in her chest failure or sepsis? Either way, it stung. This was far from how she imagined this mission going along. Ending up as a captive of psychotic target, tied to his bed as a future sex slave or heaven knows what.

‘How the fuck did I end up here? Like this? Why?’

August watches as she frowns with deep concentration, forcefully trying to evoke some memory of all the lost hours from last night. He wonders if she knows he killed her. He’d very much like to remind her of that, of how she was at his mercy and the only reason she’s alive right now is because he allowed it.

‘And still she tried to kill me right after I gave her back her life. What a woman.’

“Who is Liam? And please don’t make me ask again, given the poor situation you’re at right now, princess.”

More echoes begin to float in her mind. It’s the look of superiority on his face, the piercing gaze that threatens to cut right through her.

“You tried to kill me!”

“No. I have killed you,” he corrects her.

“You were dead for at least 5 or 7 minutes.”

She stares at him completely bemused, her eyes seeking answers on the lines of his chiselled face. There is no remorse, no care, no mercy in it. She doesn’t even bother to look for affection, whatever that looks like. He is as cold as Helheim.

“But you saved me. Why?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his face straining as he remembers that idiotic idea he had last night, that mistake that’s now lying naked on his bed. For a man who plans ahead, he hasn’t thought this one through, not even for a second.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, I only need you for intel. One wrong move and I’d be glad to put you back to the bottom of that lake.”

“You know who sent me, CIA, Erica Sloane.” She shrugs, staring at him oddly.

He leans forward in his chair looking deeper into her eyes, trying to invoke fear in her. Yet she remains stoic, only her eyes glaring at him like two icicles.

“How did you know I was here? Who else knows?”

“I’m a good tracker,” she answers, doing her best attempt to shrug her shoulders with one hand latched above her head. “And you are not as smart as you think you are, August Walker.”

August offers her a dangerous stare, crossing his arms around the wooden backseat while his feet push from the ground to lean closer to her. He doesn’t like to be challenged, especially not by silly little girls.

“Why is that?”

A small smile spreads on her face. “From all the vehicles you could have taken, you stole my bike.”

A hiss of disbelief leaves his nose but the answer doesn’t please him. He leans back on his chair until it lands forcefully on the ground, making a loud thud through the moderate silence in the room. His hand reaches toward her, grabbing her jaw and cupping it crudely.

“No, how did you know I was in Norway?”

She clenches her jaw, trying to escape his touch but his grip becomes firmer, his fingertips painting red marks on her sickly pale skin. “Answer me.”

“I didn’t-”

“Bullshit.” he challenges her, now closer to her face than she would have ever wanted. His hot breath is a breeze on her skin. Her natural instinct to learn details kicks in, forcing her to pay attention to every freckle s on his nose, his bottom lip, and the lines and small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

‘So much anger’, she analyzes. He is not even furious yet it seems he keeps so much bottled up.

‘Does he ever get tired?’

“I didn’t know,” she finally answers, both sincerity and scorn in her voice. Then, a small provoking smirk appears on her lips. “It was destiny that brought you to me.”

He snorts, shaking his head at her with disbelief, recalling their little flirtatious run-in 2 days ago. His eyes observe her while a smug smirk spreads across his face. He allows his gaze to travel further down her neck and her chest, attempting to peer beneath the blanket to get a reminder of what was pressed to his body the night before.

“Telling you the truth, August Walker, would have killed you then in the ladies room,” she provokes, aware of the fact that he’s staring at her chest even though she keeps it covered.

“Oh?” he returns his gaze back to her, a single finger now takes a hold of her chin, tilting her head up violently. “How would you have done that? I’m intrigued.”

Ingvild licks her lips, drawing attention to her mouth. It’s seduction that she offers but with that same cold, now vicious smile.

“Slicing your throat, while you’re were washing your stupid hair below the tap. I’d then shove a tampon up your ass and send a photo to everyone in Icarus and to Sloane so they can have a good laugh.”

‘My phone, shit.’

The mobile device is traceable, if Liam hasn’t heard from her in a few days he could find her. But now August has it, with the rest of the stuff he confiscated from her. She looks around, trying to find where he placed her items.

August interrupts her inspection, his hand wrapping around her sore throat with a menacing gaze. “Don’t give me any ideas, princess. I’m not the one tied up and naked here.”

“I need to go to the girls’ room,”

She ignores his threat, remaining calm despite the hand that can easily snap her neck.

He looks at her dumbfounded, clenching his jaw once more. “What?”

“I need to go…”

“I heard you.” he frowns, letting go of her throat forcefully and then shoving the chair back, making it screech against the wooden floor while pacing the room, irritated.

‘Great, now I’m a fucking babysitter?’

He begins to regret ever saving her pathetic little life. What is there to gain anyway? A guy named Liam? Whoever that is to her. She mumbled that name in her dreams when her body was struggling to fight for survival.

August finds the bathrobe in the shower room and throws it on the bed next to her, before hovering above her chest to cut her bindings with the same knife he used to stab her last night.

She tries to remain as relaxed and brave as she can, wanting him to think she is not intimidated by him and what she believes to be his empty threats. But every time he makes sudden movements. the intimidation shows in her beautiful grey eyes. Her body flinches and squirms helplessly.

If only she knew how aroused it made him, she’d be terrified.

“Try anything and I’ll unstitch you and let you bleed to death.”

Her wrist burns, the narrow rope has chafed her skin so badly there are deep purple marks on her flesh. She rubs it gently, trying to soothe the pain before grabbing the white cotton robe and staring at August with hatred.

He stares back at her while playing with the knife between his large hands. He slides a finger carefully on the edge of the sharp blade, making a harsh statement. No, he is not going to turn around.

Rolling her eyes she hides beneath the cover, pulling the bathrobe beneath and wearing it quickly, the relief of having something other than a blanket covering her feels almost astonishing.

At last, she throws the heavy blanket away and kicks her legs out of bed while wearing his oversized bathrobe. August remains silent, his eyes fixed upon her while the knife is pressed between his teeth.

Trying anything like killing him or escaping is far from realistic as she finds her legs hardly able to hold her own weight. The hardwood floor beneath her feet feels soft and mushy, if someone would have told her she’s stepping onto marshmallows she might have believed them.

She only manages to make two feeble steps before black spots appear in her sight and she falls forward with a pained grunt. She never makes it to the ground. Odd, she hasn’t noticed how big and strong he is when wrestling him on the floor. It seems that August has doubled in size.

“Who was it that didn’t love you, August?” she provokes coldly, grunting as she tries to lift her torso from his elbow. “Was it your mother? Or your dad?”

Silence and indifference is his answer to her query, with only a muscle that twitches in his cheek. He observes quietly as her hands grasp his biceps desperately and pathetically, trying to stabilize herself. It must make her hate him even more right now, to need him as much as she does.

He recalls how much he hated himself when he needed someone.

“Both then…” she answers, slightly panting.

“Did anyone ever loved you at all? Ingvild?” he taunts her back while helping her get to the toilet. He notices how her eyes look around while they move through the room, looking for her things, no doubt. She is smart, he’ll give her that, she is cunning and calculated even in her weakest moment.

But he’ll always be a step ahead.

“More than they loved you, I am sure.”

He lets her into the small room and shuts the door, leaning against it and patiently waits with his arms crossed. The sudden silence and her short absence begin to cloud his thoughts. It’s almost as if he’s dreaming awake, seeing her again, her hair falling from her decaying scalp like leaves falling from a tree.

‘Not more than you.’

The crude vibration of his phone snaps him back into reality. A message from one of the apostles, stating nothing but a location and an hour. He smirks to himself, glad to be soon away from this freezing hell. Now the question left is, what he should do with the little problem he created for himself?

Snap her little neck? Strangle her to death? Make it intimate, she deserves as much. He can already see his body hovering on top of hers, his hands wrapped around her, tight like a lover’s embrace. The robe opens as she struggles, exposing much of her naked flesh.

The thought makes him hum with delight but once again he is interrupted. This time it’s by her face that stares at him, blank of emotion, with eyes like two empty crystals. She leans against the door frame, her face tilted up to meet his gaze. “I need to shower. I smell like you.”

He wonders at all why he should fulfil her request. She’s a prisoner, not a guest, and far from being someone, he’d care for. His eyes run up and down her body and finally at the cold unreadable expression on her face.

“Whatever.”

The bathroom is rather large, surrounded by cream-coloured marble tiles that adorn both the walls and the flooring. There is a large, fancy bathtub in the middle of the room, one that is made to look old and classy with golden taps. An additional shower is placed at the other side of the room, surrounded by a thin wall of glass.

The bath looks so tempting, her eyes fixate upon it, fantasizing about slipping into a warm bubble bath with one of those pink and purple bath bombs.

August notices her fascination and snorts, edging her toward the shower instead. “You should’ve taken my offer back then, princess. Be thankful that I am allowing you the luxury of showering at all.”

For all, he cares she can die of infection, who knows what bacteria these lake water she bled into had.

“I’d take the shower over-sharing anything with you,” she spits back, her hand grasping the golden handle of the glass door. August remains facing, leaning against the marble tile with ease while sucking on his bottom lip with anticipation.

“Aren’t you going to at least turn away?” she asks naively, crooking her eyebrow up, bewildered by the large man who’s standing there with sheer confidence on his face, not bothering to give her an inch of privacy.

“No,” he smirks cockily, licking that small freckle on his lips. “You tried to kill me, I don’t trust you. But don’t worry, won’t be anything I haven’t seen before, princess.” he shrugs and tilts his head. His eyes gesture at the robe as he awaits for her to slip it off her body.

Ingvild chews the inside of her cheek with the fury that courses through her veins. He seeks to humiliate her even more, to show her again how little power she has.

But men are fools, a woman has more power over a man, especially when she is naked. She doesn’t mind what he sees and if he likes it or not anyway. Also, nervousness is not in her spectrum of emotions.

The white cotton robe falls off her body, landing at her feet with a soft thud. There she is standing completely bare before the man who tried to murdered her and who for some sick, twisted, megalomaniac reason nurtured her back to life.

Unlike last night, he has the freedom to linger on what stands in his sight. Milky white skin, stretched taut over an apt figure. Athletic; formed by years of whatever combat training she has endured. There are no scars on her body save for the new one he gave her which is hidden behind gauze. The thought of letting her survive just so she can curse him every time she sees the hideous crescent scar is quite the temptation.

He further inspects her body, imagining cupping her small breasts in his large hands, they will not fill his palms completely, but it will suffice. He was always more into women’s behind and the rounded shape of her tight ass is indeed pleasing.

“As I said, nothing I haven’t seen before,” he speaks out, letting his gaze travel back to meet her face again.

She hisses through her nose, rolling her eyes as she walks inside the translucent room and turns the stream of the water to wash over her body.

The heat of the water immediately makes her groan loudly with pleasure; it echoes through the entire room. Her body is far more battered than she even realized, it feels as almost as if she is being redeemed, baptized, or whatever other religious allegories she could think of.

She leans against the wall for support with both her palms flat against the surface. Her back arches and she lets her head tilt back with her eyes tightly shut. The damp hair sticks to her spine, while she lets the droplets of water slide between her perky breasts and down her torso.

Sweet moans escape between her lips with every second, accompanying the water that soothe her aching muscles.

August can feel the fabric of his trousers tightening as blood stirs through the veins of his cock. She squirms beneath the stream, moving so sensually while making these “fuck me” noises all too clear. It’s meant to tease and provoke him. He is tempted to march in there and fuck the living hell out of her.

Fucking her to death, now that one I haven’t tried before.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, turning to face him while the water trickles down her back. She can see the hardness in his groin, growing larger and larger with every second she stands there wet and naked.

“I am, actually,” he answers, not bothering to hide his desire.

She turns to face the shower tap, one hand plastered to the wall while the other leisurely runs down her chest. Smooth and slick, she allows it to circle her breast, making sure August can see how her finger brushes the hardening peachy nipple before descending along her flat torso.

His breath becomes rigid, his eyes furiously focusing on how she praises her own body. Her lids are half-hooded, hazy with lust and her mouth is reddening and slight swelling as she bites into her plush lips with delight. He dares, taking a step closer, allowing himself to have a better view of the show.

It is for him after all, is it not?

Tender and slow like honey, she lets her fingers creep between her thighs. In her mind, she fancies larger hands taking control over her body. A man’s hands, hands that are rough and callous, counter to how she is built, yet they caress her gently, working their way up between her inner thighs and spreading her open.

A feverish moan escapes her tightened lips as her fingers rub against her clit. She opens her eyes with her head thrown to the side. Giving August a lustful stare, cruel and full of snide she begins working herself with sensual strokes. She can feel her own wetness, thick and oily against her delicate fingers.

August’s nostrils flare, the bulge in his groin now enormous and aching for release.

Does she think she is torturing him? Does she even know men?

He inches closer toward the shower, close enough until so his hand can touch the glass which is now covered with tiny droplets of water and a thin layer of steam. His hand falls toward the zipper of his trousers, letting it sink before reaching out to pull his erect cock.

There is a smitten look upon her face, and an unpleasant chill runs through her spine as if she is intimidated by the sheer sight of him. Obviously, he is very much aware of how impossibly large he is. She gathers he is used to the look she is giving him, knowing exactly what’s going through her mind.

“Why are you stopping then, princess?” he asks with a cocky smile, his large hand wraps around the base of his hard cock, immediately beginning to stroke while eliciting deep, low groans.

Ingvild finds it surprisingly arousing, unable to help herself but stare at how his fingers engulf the fleshy shaft, feeling herself throb at the sight of the thick bulging veins and the ridges that run across his erection. When she started this little game it was in order to abuse him. But now, there is a certain desperation in her spiteful urge.

Looking at him as if driven to insanity, she lets her fingers massage her mound with increasing force, hard yet slow while her thumb traces the engorged nub. With every intent to let him see what he cannot take, she leans against the wall and parts her legs wide for him, letting him see her pink cunt and how her fingers play and tease while her other hand moves to squeeze her breast.

Her mind escapes into fantasies again, to urge the tingling sensation that burns between her thighs. Betrayed by lust, it’s him that she sees, holding her down as he did the night before, only that instead of trying to kill her he tears off her panties and splits her flesh open with his enormous cock.

The yelp that escapes her mouth is barely human, the image triggering something dark and unfamiliar and despite its wrongness now all she can think of is him.

August, on the other hand, is anything but inclined to indulge this. Pumping his cock urgently, he imagines pounding the little valkyrie against the wall, his grunts so low and loud he is certain the neighbours renting the room nearby can hear.

‘Have you ever fucked an undead girl? Imagine how sweet that wet little cunt must be after coming back to life… milking around you as if you are her saviour, your cock a gift sent from heaven…’

‘Or hell.’

Leaning his forehead against the glass, his breath leaves a veil of steam against the surface while he glances at Ingvild climbing toward her climax.

“Fuck!” She shudders, trying to fight the burning image of him in her mind, but these forbidden fantasies continue to assail her; all the different ways he could take her, exploit and humiliate her. How his body would feel atop of hers while he holds her down and hammer her into the floor.

Her battle wanes, heat spills between her legs as she falls into dark euphoria.

Seeing her arch against the tiles, naked and showered by ecstasy, his control finally snaps. August slams a hand against the glass, spourting white ribbons of cum all over the surface.

‘Oh to see her die and then burst with life…’

They stand in front of one another, both with heaving chests and frowning faces.

Finally, she turns the stream off and opens the glass door while August tucks himself back in. Apparent sweat covers his forehead while his chest is still heaving. She crouches to grab the robe, wearing it again while moving next to him with a teasing look on her face.

Although her legs feel feeble, the adrenaline made the blood kickstart her body again, her heart pumping with excitement as life returned to her system. She pushes past August scornfully, letting him follow her as she walks out of the bathroom.

He grabs her elbow, shooting her a warning glare. “Where do you think you are going?”

She tries to fight him but his grip is fierce and she is too weak.

“You are still a prisoner here,” he warns her and begins to lead her back to the bedroom and toward the bed while grabbing more rope on the way. He notices once again how she desperately seeks her personal belongings, gun, and phone.

“Don’t bother, angel, it’s all in the bottom of the lake.”

______________________________________________

Disclaimer: I don’t own Mission Impossible or August Walker

#Henry Cavill #August Walker #August Walker Fanfic #August Walker Fic #August Walker x ofc #Henry Cavill x ofc #Henry Cavill fanfiction #mission impossible fallout #mi6

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mellifluousoctopus · 4 years ago

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I decided to make a bunch character analysis postw about my observations of the tv show and what i know about the comics. I’ve bolded my main points.

abuse TW

On Luther

Luther receives a lot of hate (id hate to say its rightful) because how he has processed his trauma. He comes off insensitive and ignorant as he tries to rationalize being sent away to the moon and being painfully mutated against his will, while his siblings, who have consciously (but not subconsciously, i mean it is trauma) moved on, have bigger fish to fry. He’s in denial, we know that, but as he comes to hes still in disbelief and tries to rationalize it. In season two we see him take off the rose colored glasses to assume a spiraling self loathing reel. He’s angry at his father and at himself for following his father. We see him redirect that all anger internally on to himself in his remorse. He’s remorseful of what he did in his arrogance and in his faith in Reginald. He only just starts to project it back to its rightful place during the dinner.

He’s as traumatized as any other Hargreeves kid, but its masked by the fact that Reginald's particular route of abusing Luther had a larger emotional and personal element than with the others. Luther was never given slack, despite what his siblings (and the audience) might think. Reginald is not one for prizes or positive reinforcement. Luther was given as much physical training as his siblings, but being the leader was an extra weight, his siblings did not receive.

Much of his behavior was shaped by a “child prodigy” trope (the fear of being stagnate/failing to meet expectations). Team leader (or team enforcer, the title he’d unwitting to himself more aptly fits) was a grueling responsibility. He was responsible for his siblings life on ever mission and he had nigh constant contact with Reginald, a very strict and expecting man. Reginald privately talked to Luther and spent time with him that he didn’t with the academy. Its likely it was a form of control over the team. Luther is Number One and is team leader, although it is expected that Luther was given more attention, to be the only one given attention is strange. Luther was none the wiser to this “favoritism” as seen by his shock that the others didn’t know that Reginald had a favorite spot in the courtyard. This is most likely because Luther was given this time to manufacture loyalty and create an emotional anchor to Reginald. And anchorage that provided Reginald insight on the team and to maintain control over it. Luther’s loyalty to Reginald after of his death is a testament to how well Reginald's manipulation worked.

Why was Luther singled out? Well he is number one. And he’s number one because Reginald ranked the children in order of usefulness in the comics. I believe this was also the case in the TV series. He’s useful because Luther the perfect vehicle for control over the team. Luther is easily manipulated, emotionally and physically. Hes emotional and Superstrength, although a great feat, is easily countered. As we have seen, Reginald’s strategy is mind games. If Reginald's endgame was stopping the apocalypse and his strategies have always been layered, then it stands to reason that “useful” also means controllable to him. We all know what a control freak he is especially when it concerns him personally. (see how Vanya’s powers were a non issue until it became clear he wouldn’t be able to control her and her powers at the same time).

I don’t think it needs to be said that Luther was not a leader. Yes he was the Leader, but he has no understanding of how to lead. Luther was a director, trying to force people into his will as crudely as if he used his powers. He has no charisma, or understanding what true leadership and cohesion is. Likely due to modeling Reginald or a lack of guidance from Reginald. After all he is their supreme leader and no connection should be formed that is greater than the children and their destiny.

It is likely that as a child, Luther, Allison, and Diego were close. I imagine them as the jocks of the family. They did what they were asked and enjoyed it. Luther obeying out of reverence, fear, and solemn duty, while Allison and Diego did things with a varied amount of responsibility and obedience. Luther most likely had stronger relationship with them than any of the other siblings, who were more obstinate to their training.

Klaus was an extra responsibility to him only as it related to the team. Luther didn’t understand Klaus’ reluctance to training or to his powers. Luther’s reaction to Klaus’ antics is a lot less reactive than his siblings. It’s obvious that he doesn’t like it, but its a distraction that needs to be ignored rather than balked at. However it could be that Luther still sees himself responsible for his siblings actions, not as the cause, but as an eldest sibling care taker. A very similar sentiment went towards Ben. With how Ben reacts to his powers and likely his training. But adding on to Luther’s assumption of responsibility with no guidance or model is Ben’s death. Ben’s death is a failure of the team, according to Reginald and therefore a failure of Luther’s leadership. Which he definitely internalized as his the team’s fault.

Five was choleric and extremely headstrong. Luther butt heads with Five over refusal to train and refusal to work with the team. Luther might also been wary of Five. Five’s unccoperation was a danger to the team, which Luther was the declared protector of. Five had a relationship with Reginald because they equally wanted to study and train Five’s powers with an academic approach, this relationship was different than what Luther had with Reginald and unlike anything that anybody else had. Whether it was threatening to Luther remains an unfounded theory. The protection it provided Five could have become a point of contention as Luther tried to protect the team and precariously control Five’s outbursts. (eldest siblings ya feel?)

Vanya was not trained like her siblings. Shes not a member of the team. Luther has no reason to lead her or with Reginald’s guidance (or lack there of) have authority over her. He keeps his distance they don’t seem to have anything in common. But as he takes the position of leader he also assumes the position of older brother, no matter if they are all the exact same age. And hes a powered older brother to a demure unpowered little sister. Vanya is a responsibility. A Responsibility he has no need to have contact with, but a responsibility he must keep away from the family’s vigilantism. But that’s all. Vanya’s wellbeing, her place in the academy, none of these need not to be secured by the team leader. Because she is not part of the Team.

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loveisblindfanfictionbka · 4 years ago

Text

Love Is Blind: Chapter Five

Chris grabbed a large box from his postmaster and placed it into the back seat of his truck.

“Daddy, what’s that?” Anesa asked.

“Not sure yet. I wasn’t expecting anything in the mail.”

“Oh. Are we gonna get our puppy today?”

“No, we’ll gonna get one on Friday. The only place that has the dog you want is in the city so we’ll go after my afternoon class.”

“Friday? That’s so many days away, Daddy.”

“I know Love Bug but we’re not going into the city until next week so you’ll have to wait.”

“But Daddy.”

“Anesa, we’re not having this conversation. You’ve waited all this time for a puppy, you can wait a few more days, ok?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Good. So what do you want for lunch?”

“Cheese sticks and french fries.”

“You gonna turn into a cheese stick; you keep eating them so much, “ Chris replied with a chuckle as he pulled out of the post office parking lot.

Chris went into his office as Anesa plopped down in front of the TV. He grabbed the box and set it on top of the coffee table then sat down on the couch in front of it. He carefully slit open the top and smiled at the note “You indulged one of my hidden passions, why not indulge yours? Hope you like it (wink).” Chris dug into the box and pulled out a luxury model train set then a collection of various Jazz compilations on vinyl.

“Wow….this woman went all out,” he murmured to himself. He grabbed his phone and took a picture of the gifts before sending it as an attachment through the dating chat. A few minutes passed before he got a response

A: I was wondering if it got there in time

C: This is incredible and way more than what I got you

A: Actually it’s even steven. I looked up how much those poetry collections cost by the way

C: Totally not the same

A: It’s exactly the same.

C: Thank you, Anna

A: You are definitely welcome. So did you get the puppy?

C: We are picking him up on Friday

A: Cool. What did you get?

C; A maltipoo

A: Oh.

C: He is a shelter dog. It sounded like that was something important to you

A: That’s awesome

C; So what are you up to?

A: Nothing. Trying to decide what I’m gonna do for the upcoming two weeks

C: Something new happening?

A: It is my annual office ban.

C: Office ban?

A: My friends and employees got together a few years ago and decided the only way to force me to take time off was to ban me from the office. So they literally take my keys and ban me from coming into work

C: Lol Wow. Are you really a workaholic like that?

A: I like being busy and they hate it

C: Are you busy because you really like your job or you’re hiding?

A: Depends on the day

C: Ah. Do you only take off during this annual ban?

A: Yes

C: Maybe if you got out more, they’d get off your back

A: that’s possible. How was work?

C: I canceled classes today

A: Why?

C: Spring Break starts this week. I usually do classes remotely during the week prior to Spring Break to give my students a longer break but I do keep my office hours so I’ll be on campus Friday, that’s why we’re waiting to get the dog then

A: What do you usually do during a break?

C: Well with the new pet, we’ll probably be getting accustomed to the house but usually we go and visit my sister so Anesa can play with her cousins and such.

A: Does your sister live in NY?

C: Yea, she’s a little further upstate, towards Albany

A: How many additional hours of driving?

C: About another 2 or 3 hours

A: Oh that’s not too bad.

C: Yea. You sound surprised.

A: I was expecting something like away from home vacation

C: I have one scheduled for her birthday in the summer so we’re playing it lowkey for right now

A: Ah, that sounds awesome

C: Why don’t you go on a vacation?

A: I don’t know where I would go. It’s not like I really wanna be around people

C: You could always rent a villa or something and just relax alone

A: That’s true. Any recommendations?

C: Depends on your taste. In the states or another country? Busy or remote? A lot of adventure or quiet activities?

A: Another country. Remote. Quiet.

C: Cannes is nice this time of year especially on the outskirts of the town

A: Cannes, France?’

C: Yea. Is that a problem?

A: No, I’ve always wanted to go there but I never made it

C: Really? I went the year before I got Anesa. Sort of a soul-searching thing

A: How was it?

C: It was beautiful. A nice mix of people and solitude.

A: I might think about it then

C: It is a nice spot for a European vacation

A: Sounds like it. Thanks for the suggestion

C: Not a problem. I can forward you a link to some vacation rentals if you would like

A: That'd be great.

They fell silent for a few moments before Chris started typing again

C: Can I tell you something?

A: Sure.

C: This the closest I’ve ever felt to someone in the last few years. I really appreciate your company

A: That is really sweet, Chris. I appreciate yours as well. It feels good to talk to someone and not feel like I’m crazy or having them think I’m depressed

C: I know the feeling. Sometimes we just have to take our time to get back to where we used to be

A: I don’t think I ever wanna go back to where I used to be

C: You might have to, to get to where you wanna be. Healing has to start at the source

A: And next you’re gonna say that healing hurts

C: It can especially if you have to face some truths that you don’t want to face

A: I guess that’s true.

C: You should really give some deep thought about speaking to your ex or at least to a therapist to get the feelings out. You deserve to be angry and you deserve to be angry at him. Holding it in doesn’t make you as noble as you think.

A: I don’t believe I’m being noble

C: I think you do. I think you think no lashing out makes you more mature when it just makes you more angry. Listen, if he walked away to save you from himself, why are you still letting that torture you?

A: I don’t know

C: Healing isn’t for the other person, it's for you. You deserve to be happy, that’s why you agreed to the divorce, isn’t it? You wanted to be happy too

A: I agreed to the divorce because I didn’t want to face the fact that he didn’t want me

C: So you would’ve stayed?

A: Absolutely. Sometimes you meet a person and they’re just-

C: It. I know.

A: I know something was going on with him, I could feel it but I couldn’t fix it. I didn’t want to be a failure

C: And it wasn’t your job to fix it

A: I could’ve been more supportive.

C: Do you really think that?

A: When he shut down, I shut down too. I can admit that

C: Which is understandable

A: but not helpful. You don’t have to say it

C: Listen, nobody blames you for trying to stay unscathed. Damaged people can be hard to deal with. I know I wasn’t. I was moody and anxious all the time. Never wanted to talk. Never wanted to do anything. That could drive anybody crazy

A: It just about did

C: Anna, you needed to protect yourself. That’s not failure. You should never sacrifice yourself in that manner. In the whole picture, maybe he should’ve been better and actually spoke to you to do better but at the time, his only option may have been to let you go. That’s not failure. That’s survival

A: Boy, am I glad you can’t see me

C: Lol, why you say that?

A: Because I am a crying mess right now

C: Aww...I’m sorry.

A: No, it’s fine. I just never heard it quite like that. Like I knew it wasn’t my job to fix him but I felt so guilty about leaving even though he was pushing me away

C: When you really love and care about someone, that happens. There’s nothing wrong with that. I think so often we get wrapped in our own pain that we don’t realize how our distance affects others. Was he a bad guy prior to then?

A: No, he was the sweetest and funniest person. He just became so cold and empty. Like literally you couldn’t see any life in his eyes

C: Do you think he didn’t love you?

A: He did love me. I could see it breaking him to tell me to leave but it wasn’t strong enough

C: Then that’s what you need to hold on to. There’s nothing wrong with loving him. And there’s nothing wrong with being angry with him either. You have a right to be but you also have the power to deal with it and determine how you react to it.

A; You’re absolutely right

C: I think you really should go on a vacation and just take some time to yourself. Some of the locations out there are remote enough that you could stand outside and scream for hours. You need to release it

A: Then what do I do after that?

C: You live. And be happy. And that doesn’t mean you have to date or fall in love with anyone other than yourself. You don’t have to let your anger be your only connection to him, that’s what your love is for.

A: You still love your ex-wife

C: I do.

A: She was it for you, wasn’t she?

C: She was. Still is.

A: How’d you let go?

C: Physically? I distanced myself. I moved out of our old house, I stayed away from our old friends. Emotionally? I still haven’t learned how to

A: Does that part ever get easier?

C: No but I just try and bury it, which probably isn’t healthy but I can’t have her, you know.

A: Did you ever try?

C: Honestly, I don’t know what to say. Besides, I don’t deserve another chance

A: Isn’t that for her to decide?

C: You’re right.

A: I know you think you’re protecting her but lying, even by omission, never helps. You wanna know what to say? The truth. Tell her everything. That much you do owe her.

C: You’re right

A: Who needs a therapist when we got each other?

C: LOL, you are right again. Thanks for the gifts and your gift

A: My gift?

C: Your friendship. It’s refreshing, haven’t felt like this in a long time

A: You’re very welcome. Same to you.

C: I guess I should let you go then

A: You don’t have to if you don’t want to. What else you wanna talk about?

C: How about your connect for these vinyls?

A: Lol

Omg Daddy, look at all the puppies,” Anesa said as she squeezed his hand with delight, “can I get more than one?

“No. We agreed on one puppy and that’s all.”

“Yes Daddy. Is the one I want here?”

“Yup. The shelter manager says that he’s getting checked out right now and then we’ll be able to take him and go.

“Yay!”

Chris chuckled, “no yelling inside, Nesa.”

“Oops.”

A blonde woman walked over to him with a clipboard, “My name is Alexis. How may we help you?”

“Hi. We have an appointment to pick up a Maltipoo named Shep.”

“He is in the back with our resident vet. She runs the clinic next door. Would you like to come back and see him?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Follow me.”

Chris and Anesa followed the employee farther back into a vet office. Just as they stopped in the doorway behind Alexis, the doctor looked up.

“Robyn?”

“Chris?”

#chrianna #loveisblindfanfiction

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starangellunis · 4 years ago

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Breaking Point

Chapter 1

First chapter of my latest story. Please let me know what you think of it.

Snap! Snap! Snap! The sound of a tree being hit could be heard echoing through the forest. A young elven woman snapped her hand forward as a bright ball of light came forth, hitting the tree dead center, right on target. Her eyes were half closed, her hand growing weary but she continued practicing, knowing she would not improve any other way. She paused briefly every so often to regain her lost energy. She had been at it for hours now, her shoulder length red hair falling around her face in wispy strands. She knew the time was creeping quickly upon her when no amount of pause would allow her to keep going and she would have to rest for the night. She dreaded it but knew it could not be helped. She had to improve. She had to be better. She wanted so desperately to be acknowledged and if it meant she had to hurt herself to do it, then so be it. She was so close yet every time, she had to stop. She silently cursed herself for being weak. She needed this strength she seeked. It was not just for her but if she could get stronger, she could do so much more. She could help everyone. No one would cast her aside again. Perhaps, they would even love her. She had to try. That kept her going. It kept her determined. They would accept her. She would not be a failure anymore. She continued until her body shook with fatigue. She then headed back home, her head low, her eyes cast to the ground. She kicked lightly at the pebbles and stones that littered the winding path back to her small home, surrounded tall beautiful trees. The stillness of the air comforted her as she made her way to the door. She pushed it open and made her way to her bed, not even bothering to do anything else besides flop down and sleep. She would have a fresh start in the morning.

Her pale green eyes opened slowly as the morning sunlight seeped through her window in golden rays. She groaned as she sat up and rubbed her face. Perhaps making a nice breakfast and cleaning herself up a bit would make her feel better or at the very least, wake her up a bit more. She stood and made her way to her bathroom where she looked up at the small mirror above her sink. She stared at her own reflection. Her fair skin was dark around her eyes, making them look sunken in. A water basin sat next to her bathtub and she filled the sink with water. She cupped her hands in the water and splashed some onto her face. The coolness of the water cleared a bit of the grogginess from her mind.

With her mind refreshed, she could now focus on what she needed to do for the day. She drained the water from the sink and walked out to her kitchen. She began making breakfast. Her fingers nimbly gliding along chopped vegetables and meat as she placed them into a pan to fry them over the stove fire. The scent of the food cooking soon filled the air which brightened her mood a bit. She smiled to herself as she cooked, humming a tune as she plated her food. She sat down, placing her bowl on her table and ate, enjoying the fact of her work paying off for once. She cleaned up after she was finished.

She decided some fresh air might do her some good so she walked outside and sat down on the steps of her porch for a bit, taking in the scenery, the surrounding trees bringing her comfort. She closed her eyes, taking in the scent and sounds of the forest that surrounded her small home. Even if she was alone, she enjoyed the peaceful stillness and the relaxing calm it brought to her mind. It was so unlike her life before she resorted to secluding herself there. She was grateful for the ability to let her guard down and breathe, as she was unable to do so before. She ran most of her life to find this peace. She wanted nothing to take it away. She also knew that in order to keep it, she had to continue her training. She let out a heavy sigh as a frown crossed her lips. She opened her eyes and slowly stood up. She then decided it was time to make her way to her usual spot.

She walked into the forest, to a clearing where a single tree stood at its center. The tree had withstood quite a bit of wear and tear from her previous training sessions. She readied herself for another round, taking in a deep breath and concentrating her energy to her hand. She closed her eyes to focus more. A faint glow began to form around her hand.

A soft voice then broke her concentration. “Reilen.”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked around, the glow faded from her hand. “Who’s there?”

“Reilen.” The voice called to her again.

“Who are you?” She demanded, as she continued searching for the source of the voice. She saw no one which caused her heart to begin beating faster.

“If you really wish to know, come find me.” The voice of a woman called to her as if beckoning her. She felt as if she were being pulled by it as she began to follow the sound of the voice. It was gentle, if not slightly unnerving. This woman, whoever she was knew her name, which meant she had to have been someone from her past. She had to be luring her into a trap. Reilen continued following the sound, regardless. She felt around for her knife that had been tucked away in a pouch around her leg up to that point. She pulled it out and gripped it tightly, in case of an ambush. She walked out of the clearing into the forest. After a bit longer, she found herself at a waterfall. She knew the place but had never seen anyone there before.

“Good, you came.” The woman’s voice was directly behind her. Reilen whirled around, her knife pointed to the woman’s neck before she had a chance to react. She pushed the tip of Reilen’s knife away with the palm of her hand, surprisingly not being injured by it. “There’s no need for that.” She attempted to reassure her but Reilen was still on edge. She smiled warmly and Reilen lowered her knife, her guard still fully up however. The woman looked surprisingly harmless. Her eyes were a brilliant rose-gold color. The sun shone through her long white hair as it swayed gently in the breeze. She wore a long white dress, giving her an almost angelic appearance.

Reilen backed away from her a bit and repeated her previous question. “Who are you?”

“My name is Laevendire,” She stated simply, her voice still as gentle and calming as before. “I’m sure you have many questions for me, don’t you dear Reilen?”

“Yes,” Reilen frowned. “How do you know me? What do you want?”

“I need your help. You see, I’ve been around for a very long time but unfortunately, there is one who does not like that one bit and she is after me. When I saw you and Laiyra, I-“ Reilen cut her off at that point.

“How do you know her?” Reilen growled at her through clenched teeth.

“Well, she is your twin, is she not?” Laevendire looked at her innocently.

“She… was…” Reilen trailed off, saddened by the thought of what had happened to her sister. She shook her head, clearing the feeling away. “What do you know about what happened? I never saw you there.”

“Forgive me; I realize that it is a sensitive subject for you.” She tried to comfort her but Reilen simply glared at her.

“You know nothing.” She seethed.

“Answer one question and I will not bring the subject up again unless prompted.” Laevendire told her.

Reilen stood silently, still gripping her knife, tempted to run it through this strange woman’s neck. “Do you wish to know the truth about what happened to her?”

Reilen’s grip on her knife grew tighter, her knuckles turning white. “I know what happened to her. I killed her, at least according to everyone else. I lost control and she paid the price with her life. I was responsible for her and I failed. Those men will pay with their lives if I ever see them again. They would have come after the rest of my family and my people if I didn’t act. They threatened to ransack the village and kill everyone. I was aiming for them… I saw that man… He was in my sights not her… but I was too distracted by my own rage to understand what was really happening.” Reilen’s voice cracked a she held back tears. She did not even know why she was telling her all of this but the words poured out of her mouth almost as if she could not stop it even if she wanted to.

Laevendire’s eyes softened. “That’s not what happened, sweet girl.”

“That is what happened! I was there! I saw it with my own eyes! Why do you care? You don’t even know me. I would have remembered someone like you if we had met before.” Reilen looked away from the woman as tears started to fall.

Laevendire reached up and wiped her tears away, her hand slowly lowering to her cheek. She traced her finger along the scar that ran along Reilen’s left cheek. Reilen winced as if it hurt, even though she did not feel any pain from it. She simply hated that it was there in the first place.

“If you help me, I can help you.” Laevendire explained. “There is a woman who wishes to rid the world of my presence. If you help me fend her off, I can tell you everything you wish to know.”

Reilen shook her head. “If you want me to fight for you, the answer is no.” Laevendire looked disappointed but Reilen continued. “I’ve had enough violence in my life to last more than an entire lifetime. I do not wish to add to it. I will seek those men out and rid the world of their presence but that is all. I will not participate in any more fighting after that.”

“If you change your mind, I will be here.”Laevendire told her simply. “And I will tell you everything then.”

With that, the woman disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. Reilen was then alone at the waterfall as if the woman had never been there at all. Her mind was full of questions and emotions that she could not quite place. She wanted to know more but she could not just trust someone out of the blue, could she? She turned to walk back home, her energy to train now drained from her.

#fiction #my story #story oc #story character #story #fantasy #fantasy story

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shinobirain24 · 4 years ago

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Water and Ice- Chapter 7: Confinement

Neptune opened his eyes to see the town of Argus in an apocalyptic ruins. Since when did he even traveled to the future? Or is this a dream?

Either way isn't a good sign. He keeps walking in the city in search for survivors. Calling out to anyone who might be in high buildings. "Hello?! Anybody there?!" But no one responded.

"What happened while I was away? I don't remember a forecast of earthquakes. I was only gone for two days. Or is it three?" He then remembered that Weiss was with him. "Weiss...hello?! If you can hear me, say something!"

"Neptune?" The blue-haired huntsman turned around to see a familiar man with a scar. Also blue-haired with visors. leather jacket, a sign that he is a Thunderbolt. "Who are you?! Did you do this?" The man isn't responding. But he took off his visors and revealed similar blue eyes as Neptune's. "It's been a while, bro."

"No, it can't be...J-Jupiter." He slightly gasped. "I thought you were dead! Am I dreaming this?" He shook his head.

"What the hell is going on? What happened to Argus? And why are you participating in criminal activities?! For the record, those visors do not look good on you." Neptune demanded.

"You don't get it, do you?" He asked, which confuses Neptune. "I've been playing dead for a while. I suggest you make a run for it before "she" finds you."

"Who's "she?"" Jupiter exits the scene before he could answer. "Hey wait!" He heard another voice.

"Neptune?" He turned to the Argus Park where a statue of the deceased Pyrrha Nikos was standing. It was Weiss. She then runs towards him.

"What's going on?! Who would do this?" Weiss inquired and Neptune wishes he has a answer, but no. "I don't know. Maybe we're dreaming." Then a tidal wave of flood rushes over. Cars, trees, broken glass and other vehicles are washed away. It was too late to escape as the water pulls them with it.

"Dah!"

"Wah!" Weiss grabs Neptune's hand and they held each other tight while trying to resurface from the water to gain air to breath. But then their grip didn't last long when Weiss and Neptune grab onto a lamppost. "Don't let go!" But then their hands slipped, separating them.

"Neptune!" Weiss cried out.

"Weiss!" Neptune shouts back struggling to swim, but the waves sucked him down to the bottom. The salt water has flown into his lungs and they got stuck. Having trouble to breath since it already got into his mouth.

No. I can't breath. Why can't I save anybody? I am a failure. I hated my semblance so much. How come I didn't use it wisely? Neptune thought closing his eyes. Waiting for his "death" to be over with.

Neptune snapped his eyes open with a grasp. "Ah!" Touching his throat like the water is still there. But it wasn't. Pushing his hair above. "Oh man, what a nasty nightmare." He then looked back at the dream where he saw his brother. He looked around to see that he is in the ferry where he was sleeping since he couldn't stand the sight of the ocean.

Jupiter, was that really you talking to me?

A door opened and Neptune looked up to see Weiss standing in front of it. He could tell that she couldn't help but worry for him. "Neptune?" She said softly. Slowly closing the door to move straight to him. She then stop by her tracks to asks, "Is it alright if I can sit beside you?" She blushed in nervousness. But Neptune taps the bed, letting her know that it's a yes.

"Bad dream again?" She asked again. She looked into his eyes. They are deep and beautiful as the ocean's depths. Something that Weiss couldn't keep her eyes off of. He slightly nodded. She placed her and above his. Making Neptune nervous, but he kept his cool.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one with those nightmares. Just woke up from one tonight." Weiss admitted.

"What is it then?" He asked.

"One where my sister challenged me. And in the end, I lost. Dying by her own hands. I wonder if she regrets it, if it really happens. I don't think I want to know at all. It keeps happening every night since I left Atlas the third time."

"Maybe those nightmares could mean something." Then Neptune changes the subject. "This got me thinking, why are you helping me from getting arrested earlier? You know this could mean you're a fugitive too, right?" Weiss smiled and nodded.

"The truth is, I don't believe you're responsible for the wreckage either. As much as l care for Winter, I also care about you. Losing some friends and family are the worse parts of life. Do you think I made the right choice?" Weiss asked. "Even if your brother is responsible, there has to be a reason why."

"That depends. I don't think it's not a right or wrong answer. I'm not sure how to put it this way."

"You're lying." Weiss giggled. And Neptune did the same. "Back in Poseidon Island, you weren't the same person I knew before. Then, I saw what you did to the water. That is your semblance, right?" She asked. Neptune sighed as he didn't want to talk about it. But Weiss' stern look convinced him otherwise.

"Do you remember, back at the Vytal Festival? My team and I fought Team NDGO?" How could Weiss even forget that she came there to cheer for him. Only to see Neptune flirting with the female team. And got angry with him. But she already forgave him for that. But there's something she had already forgotten. "Back then, I couldn't touch the water. Although, my semblance could've been useful." Now Weiss could see where this is coming from. Having an improved image to cover up the fear.

"This all happened when I was 4. I grew up in Argus before we moved to Mistral. It was a place where my family are skilled swimmers. But I was an exception." Neptune stood up and walked a few steps away from the bed. While Weiss remained sitting there as her eyes pointed at him. She is starting to have a feeling that he may not be the Neptune she knew anymore. Many people at Haven and Shade would described him as a goofball. But this time is different. But she is also moved by his mysterious personality.

"The reason why I have unlocked my semblance in the first place is because my traits are rare. The reason why my name is Neptune. My dad, and my siblings have water-based semblances. I don't know how I was afraid of water. But it bothered me when I see it. The day my semblance was awakened, my brother threw me from the pier and it was the most terrifying day of my life." Neptune said sadly. Remembering the images in his head that he couldn't get out. "When he did, my aura have reacted to the water and that's how my semblance came. It took half the ocean to be pulled within me. But the thing is, I couldn't breath, hear or see as it keep getting into my eyes, ears and lungs. Since then, I never go near the water ever again. That's why I have these goggles in the first place. Come to think of it, every time I touched the water, it was pulled into my body, like a magnet of some kind."

Weiss listened to him further, and sees why he was averted to the substance in the first place. It's not often that siblings pushed them around and her heart beats in every word. But one of those things is that her sister is the same for her to become a free woman. But out of concern of his side of the story. She never got near him since they were busy fighting Salem and her minions. Just like everyone else, despite the smiles and happy memories made. They all have a dark side of the past. Beneath a good-looking and flirty young man, is a sad and scared huntsman. "Couldn't blame Jupiter, he only did what he thought was for my own good. He has the ability to turn water into mist. My sister can turn water into ice, which is useful because now nobody would have to buy any more ice packs for her medical team to use. I called my semblance, "Water Attraction." Pretty useful, but also a curse. When I panicked, I pushed the water towards Jupiter. It could've killed him that day. But luckily, he's strong enough to turn it into steam." He then walks to stare at the window, with the ocean sparkling at the moonlight, despite the beauty of the seas, it's also a reminder of the bad memories.

"Two years after my awakening, Sun came along. He found out about my phobia, but he didn't care. It's like he understood me better than anyone else. We both agreed to keep it a secret. He's not only my best friend, but a brother in arms. Before that, Jupiter is the best bro any kid can ask for. We would hang out when our parents were too busy. He went to Haven since I was 14. And man, he's even good with the ladies."

Now I get where he even got his flirting style from. Weiss thought taking a deep breathe, but blushed also. Still how could I resist?

"And since then, he becomes a member of Team ZRVT. The other three members were Zerena Slithers, Roth Mandle, and Tyler Shepard. But things have been different, he spent more time with his team than me. After graduation, they came to my house for meetings. They seemed like really cool people. But one day, Sun and I snuck out of my house to help them on a undercover mission. They didn't know about it, until we arrived in a submarine that belonged to the White Fang. Everything was going good until..." Neptune looks back at the time he made a whirlpool, the same one where it apparently killed Team ZRVT. He and Sun were the only survivors of the accident. "I was thrown into the ocean by a member of the White Fang. While I was sure I was a goner. Jupiter jumps in to get me back into the surface. But when he got closed, my semblance went out of control and made a whirlpool, sucking us all in. Sun and I are the only ones to survive. But Team ZRVT, including my brother are gone. Their bodies weren't found, but the police decides to give up the search and declared them dead." This got Weiss shaken, to think he's was just an ordinary person with semblance, just like her and everyone else. "I was sure that I killed him. It haunted me for the rest of my life. Since then, I vowed to never again touch the water, nor to use my semblance. Until today, when you saw it. I was afraid I might hurt anyone, or even worse. Earlier, Ceres saw the news about the embargo sinking, she then sent me a link. To my surprise, one of the culprits was my brother. Or is it really my brother? That's why I took the mission, to find him and bring him back." Neptune recaps every memory he has, but then overwhelmed by the worse ones he put in his head. Getting lightheaded and fell next to the walls while clinging onto them. Weiss rushes to help him up. "I thought I've shed enough tears for years. Tears will always remind me of water, and the day I lost my brother. But in the end, how much I can hold them, after what happened to Jupiter?" He covered his eyes in shame, tears flown from his lids.

Weiss couldn't help but wanting to keep him away from the bad memories. But none of this is going to stop without any closure. Weiss holds him close. Wanting to tell him some things to assure him. Holding her hand onto his cheek. Neptune uncovered his eyes to look at her. He thought nobody but his best friend could understand what he's going through. But to his surprise, she comforted him with some of the things they have in common. He places his hand on her back.

"Fears are nothing to be ashamed of. But in the end, they became a shell from the environment. You're not the only one who's been going through the dark. You want to know something? You're lucky to have a loving family. But mine was never in a best place, my father only married my mother for her name, my name. He would do anything to manipulate us. But my sister broke free when she entered Atlas Academy. She's the only person who's been there for me, cared for me. Something I wished my mother would've done instead of trying to drink her life away. After my father gave my heir status of the company to my brother, he's making him suffer also. No matter if he sided with him. But with my father in jail, he's been doing better. He just can't talk to me yet. And my mother began to bond with him again. She seems to have forgotten about the past. When my team and I went to Atlas, she was about to become the next Winter Maiden. But it failed when Penny acquired the maiden's powers. But it was a good thing, cause then Winter would've been killed by an assailant. But then my father caused the generator in Mantle to be shut down after making a deal with a madman to gain the victory to the council's seat. But luckily, my mother has evidence. And he went to jail. It devastated my brother as he was the only person he could talked to, despite his sly and cunning smug on his face. What I regretted that day was never protecting my brother when he needed me. Just when Ironwood was about to engage Martial Law to abandoned Mantle in a panic, I could see that Winter believed that her loyalties to her superiors comes first. Since then, we evacuated the people of Mantle. Afterwards, Winter got promoted in Ironwood's place since he resigned. I understood that she has a path she felt the need to follow. So do I."

"I'm sorry. I guess your life wasn't as easy."

"Believe me, it wasn't. I never regret siding with you. But I do regret betraying her." After Neptune feels better from the nightmares. He went back to sleep as Weiss covered him with a bedsheet. She still sat there looking at him, sleeping peacefully. She has the thought about kissing him on the cheek. Leaning her head to place her lips. But she refrain before it happens. No, not now. What am I doing?

Meanwhile, back in Poseidon Island. Winter and her men remained there in search for her younger sister and the supposed "suspect." Now she is worried that Weiss will end up a fugitive again. "Have you found them yet?" She asks two of her searchers. They saluted in response. "No, sir. No sign of the suspect or Ms. Schnee!" She groaned with her palm on the eyes. "How hard is it to find two individuals?! Find them again, and bring them back, right now!" Winter demanded, she didn't mean to be hard on her comrades, but she got extremely worried for her sister. "Y-yes, sir!" They said frantically, scared at the tone of her voice.

She is then met by another soldier, who also saluted her. "Sir, there's no sign of them left. Our trackers on their scrolls indicate that they're no longer on the island."

"What does this mean?" Winter glared.

"They took a ferry and left for Argus, sir." He responded.

"I see." Winter turned away. Not looking at her comrade for a second. "Call Mistral forces. We need Vasilias locked up behind bars. Only he has the information about the Thunderbolts." She ordered. She then closed her eyes. I'm sorry, Weiss. But I cannot let her harm you, not now, not ever. And I can't let that boy be a danger to you. She thought. Then a pilot ran out of the ship. "Bomb! There's a bomb! Get down!" Then they all ducked down as the ship exploded into flames and pieces.

"General Schnee, sir, are you alright?!"

"Forget me, call for back up!"

"Sir! This is Delta-7, our ships' been destroyed! We need assistance!" Another soldier then radioed for help.

#iceberg rwby #neptune vasilias #weiss schnee #rwby fanfic #Icy Seas #Arctic Ocean

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niqhtlord01 · 6 years ago

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Humans are weird: War is the death of Honor

General Xiaon stood outside his command bunker and looked towards the sky. The night was clear and the lights danced across horizon likes crystal gem stones. But Xiaon knew the truth. The majority of those lights were not stars, but running lights of enemy warships that now circled his home world.

Since the destruction of the Combra fleet several days ago the Coalition had been holding orbit around the Combra home planet, their final stronghold.

Xiaon remembered how the campaign began and how things had changed such drastically since then. When legions of Combra warriors marched into waiting dropships to be ferried to their fleet number in the tens of thousands, how they had set out and conquered dozens of systems and expanded their great empire. Then how one by one the planets had been reclaimed by the Coalition, how armies were decimated, their fleets lured into traps and cut down bit by bit, until now the Combra had been driven back to their homeworld waiting for the final battle. It was a battle that Xiaon knew his people would never win, yet they would fight all the same. Many would die, but Xiaon knew his people would survive and rise again. The Coalition was comprised of many species that were not as familiar with war as the Combra and had only joined together for mutual stability and support. Xiaon had not considered them a threat and after several years of fighting they had nearly been broken by the Combra war machine. It wasn’t until the latest species had joined their coalition and brought fresh fire and spirit that gave them hope to turn the tide.

They called themselves “Humanity”, and they were as skilled in warfare as the Combra. They were now the main driving force behind the Coalition’s counter attack and had the reason Xiaon now was forcing himself to do the unthinkable.

He turned on the spot and reentered the command bunker, the hallways filled with officers carrying reports of troop deployments, ration supplies, and other such material needed for the final battle while warriors stood guard at every entry. As he looked at each as they passed by he could see that they had not lost the will to fight and would die before they surrendered. This both pleased and saddened Xiaon.

Entering the main control room all the officers present stood to salute their leader. Xiaon returned the salute and motioned for them to continue with their work. He sat at his control console and gazed around at them for several seconds.

“This will be my legacy.” He thought to himself as he began preparing for what he was about to do. “But it must be done for the salvation of my people.”

“I’m sorry General, did you say something?” Xiaon realized he had spoken the last part out loud and caught the attention of his second in command. “Frolock, I want you to open a direct line of communication to the enemy fleet.” Frolock paused for a moment. “But would that not give away our position?” Xiaon chuckled. “They have plenty of time to map out all of our military positions by now. Believe me, they know already this is our HQ.” Frolock nodded. “As you command general.”

Frolock walked away and fiddled with his own console for a few moments. “We have a direct line general.”

Xiaon paused again. There was no going back now....

“This is General Xiaon of the Combar Empire. I wish to speak with the leaders of the Coalition and discuss the terms of the Empire’s surrender.”

The room suddenly went dead quiet. Every pair of eyes turning towards the general, not fully wishing to understand what they had just heard. Some of them looked as if to speak but Xiaon held a clenched fist into the air and glared at any that looked like they would cause a scene, his gaze was intense enough to make several look away.

“General Xiaon, this is the flagship Newbury Castle, please repeat previous message.” The shrill voice over the comm told Xiaon that he was speaking with a human. He had tortured enough to know their tone of voice. “I say again, this is General Xiaon of the Combar Empire. I wish to speak with the Coalition leadership and discuss the terms of the Empire’s surrender.”

Another long pause, no response. The command center was a still as the grave and no one dared even move for fear of being cut to ribbons by the tension in the air.

“Understood General Xiaon. A dropship has been dispatched to your location for retrieval so you may speak face to face with the leadership. It will arrive in the next ten minutes. In the meantime, please issue a general stand down order to your remaining forces. Failure to do so will rendered your Empire’s chance at a peaceful end to this war null and void.”

“Understood. I will issue the order now and be waiting by the landing fields.” Xiaon killed the communication. He then switched on the override signal his command status gave him and spoke to the entire planet.

“People of the Combra Empire, this is General Xiaon. We have fought long and hard and we have done our ancestors proud. I count you all as my brothers and sisters for your loyalty. But as your kin I feel it is my duty to tell hard truths, and the turth is this war is over....The enemy orbits our planet now with the same fleets that have driven us from our conquests for the last year and is ready to wreck untold damage across our beloved homeworld. I can not bare to see anymore of my kin die, nor see our world ripped away from us.”

“Moments ago I communicated with the coalition and offered to discuss the terms of our surrender. Many of you will hate me and want me dead for such actions and will say I am a disgrace. I can not refute that claim I will bare that shame if it means my people will see another sunrise, that our warriors can return to their families, if no one else must die. We have lost this war, but that does not mean we will not rise again. I ask that you honor my final wish as your leader and follow my order with the same loyalty as any other I have issued before. Believe me....this was the only way.”

Xiaon killed the communication and stood from his chair before marching away. There were no cries of disloyalty nor attempts made against Xiaon as he marched away. Officers and warriors stood aside for him and saluted, but Xiaon could not bring himself to meet their gazes.

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

Xiaon had ridden the dropship into space and had gazed at the elaborate rows of ships surrounding his homeworld. A vast armada of ships of every size with wings of fighters and bombers circling each one.

He saw sleek Slimpton cruisers with their smoothed edges and reflective surfaces, Morbith ramshackle bardges that looked like garbage dumps with rockets attached to them, Ziplin war spheres with their elegant gravity rings circling them in ever changing patterns; but most of all he saw the box like ships of humanity. The most numerous ships of the fleet, Xiaon estimated humanity provided 75-80% of the total fleet strength present. What they lacked in style they more than made up for in understanding of war. Each ship was armed with dozens of weapon batteries, missile launchers, rail guns, and shielding that Xiaon was surprised humanity had not followed the Combra way and begun a path of conquest.

His dropship had taken him to the flagship Newbury Castle, a massive human battleship. When he exited into the hangar he was met by a considerable security detail who performed another search of his personage. He had already been searched once before entering the dropship but the security was not taking any chances when it came to the protection of their leaders.

He was led through the halls of polished steel flanked by armed guards. The path was entirely cleared by security teams and onlookers watched from behind security checkpoints. Xiaon gazed at them and saw many faces of disgust and hatred. Some shouted at him, some spit in his direction, one even tried to lob a object of some type at him before a security guard caught their arm and stopped them. Rather than beat the offender the guard merely shook their head at the would be attacker and they backed down. Xiaon was hardly surprised at the response. They had been fighting for years now and expected nothing less, that was how all true warriors should be on the battlefield.

Finally, Xiaon stood before massive doors depicting some sort art work. The doors parted and Xiaon saw a massive room. An entire side of the room was a reinforced window showing the Combra homeworld below. Xiaon saw a group of figures huddled around the window and he assumed they were the leadership. Some turned to face Xiaon as the doors opened, others glanced in his direction before resuming conversations they were already having, one figure Xiaon noticed had not appeared to react at all and continued looking out the window at the planet below.

“Presenting General Xoon as requested.” One of the security guards spoke. “It’s General “Xiaon” actually.” Xiaon said to the guard. The guard turned to him and leaned in close and whispered “I don’t give a fuck what you call yourself. If it were up to me I would have blown your ass out the nearest airlock the moment you entered this ship-”

“Thank you master of arms.” The new voice came from the seated figure who had not risen when Xiaon entered. The guard saluted the figure without hesitation and stepped back several paces. Xiaon recognized respect when he saw it and clearly this human guard held the figure in high admiration.

A slender Slimpton stepped forward from the group. “Would you please come closer General, we can hardly discuss such important matters with you so far away.” Xiaon looked around the room and then back at the guards. “Do you not think I would not use my arms to strangle the lot of you were I to get close to you?” Xiaon responded. Several of the figures took a step back in fear but the seated figure merely chuckled. “I’m sure you would try, but I have faith that my security team would be over you in a matter of seconds and break your legs and arms without hesitation.” “You would not kill me?” The figure chuckled again. “Unlike your kind, we do not shoot the messenger here.”

Xiaon stepped closer to the group and was now at the base of the window. He could all of the Coalition species here. One by one they introduced themselves until only the sitting figure remained. “Who are you?” Xiaon asked.

The figure finally stood up and turned to face him. They appeared as a human female. Youth radiated off her dark skin like the heat of a sun yet Xiaon could see some grey strands of hair making him unable to properly judge her age. She had a strange cloth wrapped around her head revealing only her face, but this concerned Xiaon little as he had never bothered with human fashion.

“You may call me Admiral Amara, leader of the retaliatory fleets.” Xiaon snorted. “Were it not for your victories I would have laughed at the idea of a female leader of war.” Without warning a guard stepped in behind Xiaon and brought the butt of their rifle hard against the back of Xiaon’s knee causing him to fall to the ground. “YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO THE ADMIRAL WITH SUCH DISRESPECT!” The guard shouted. He raised their rifle again to strike Xiaon when Amara held up a hand to stop them.

“Thank you master of arms. You don’t need to worry on my account over such trifling thins as insults. They are the signs of a poor loser which only makes the general’s situation all the more laughable, wouldn’t you agree?” The guard saluted again and stepped back into position.

Xiaon rose to his feet unsteadily. From the reactions of the surrounding leaders it was clear that even though it was a coalition, humanity played a larger role when it came to handling matters. None had sought to stop or censor the guard or the Admiral for their actions.

Admiral Amara returned to her chair and looked at Xiaon. “I believe you came here to discuss something did you now?” She spoke with a smile. Xiaon nodded. “I have come before you as the leader of the Combra Empire to discuss a cessation of hostilities and lay the ground work for a better future for our children.”

Many of the delegates nodded and smiled at the words. Xiaon could only imagine that many had longed for the day to see the Combra people defeated. Xiaon eyed Amara as she sat in silence. Were it not for humans the Combra would have won the war and these fools would be at his feet begging for mercy.

“Do you have children General?” Amara’s question took him by surprise. “Excuse me?” “Do you have children General Xiaon?” Amara asked again, her head cocked to the side as she smiled at him. “I have two sons who both serve alongside me. They are still on the planet below.” Amara nodded at the answer. “With a reputation such as your I imagined so. Females of you species must be lining up to bear the great war heroes children.” she chuckled.

Xiaon was unsure how to respond to that and shuffled in place. Before he could answer Amara turned to the other delegates. “Anyone else here have kids?” They all rattled off varying answers, Xiaon was suprised to hear that the Morbith member had some 500 children back on their homeworld. With each answer Amara smiled and nodded her head until she was the last one.

She pulled a picture from her pocket and showed it. “This is my daughter Gabi, I carry this picture with me every day so I can see her smile.” Amara flipped the picture around and looked at it. “One of the smartest kids at the academies back on Earth. Aced all her classes, never got into any trouble, always willing to help her friends when they needed it. The size of her heart would make any parent proud.”

Amara stared at it for several seconds more. Xiaon was confused by the situation, this was not what he had expected when he had decided to surrender. From the looks of the other leaders Xiaon knew they were just as confused as he was.

Amara seemed to remember that there were others in the room. “Apologies, I got distracted. General Xiaon, I couldn’t hear what you said earlier. Could you come closer and say it again?” Xiaon stepped pas the other members until he was in front of Admiral Amara.

“I, General Xiaon, have come to-”

A sudden kick in his knee sent Xiaon sprawling to the ground again. Before he could utter another word he felt a metal band placed over his mouth by one of the guards. It that latched to his head and prevented him from speaking and despite how much he clawed at it he could not remove it.

“I’m sorry General, I still didn’t catch that.” Xiaon glared at Amara who was still sitting and smiling at him. He made to lunge at her but was once again bashed to the ground by the guards. They grabbed hold of his arms and held him on his knees in front of the Admiral.

“Admiral Amara,” spoke the Slimptom leader spoke, “this is hardly the proper way to-” Amara held up a finger to her mouth and shushed the member.

She returned her gaze to the kneeling Xiaon. “Clearly the general here needs time to gather his thoughts about a proper surrender so while he does that I will just speak until he is ready.” She turned to the other delegates. “Understood?” They all nodded in silence, afraid that they would be treated the same if they objected.

“Do you remember how humanity was drawn into this war general?” Xiaon looked at Amara not understanding the question. “Humanity had no interest in either side and we were fine with staying to our own affairs. That was until one day a Cambora scout vessel fired upon an unarmed cruise liner that was making its way between Earth and one of the coalition worlds.”

Xiaon remembered it. The scout vessel mistook it for a military cargo ship run by the Morbith and destroyed it. Several hundred of the passengers had been human and the outrage had pushed humanity to enter the war.

“I remember that week very clearly General.” Amara continued. “Gabi had just finished her time at the academy and had lined up a job with a ship yard orbiting Pluto. She called me to tell me how excited she was to help build the next generation of ships. She had been working herself studying every day and night for weeks to pass and was completely wiped out afterwards. I mean, during our conversation I’m sure she passed out at least once.” She chuckled.

“So I suggested she take some time for herself and go on a vacation before starting the new job. To let loose and have fun.” She turned the picture of her daughter around so Xiaon could see it clearly.

“Can you guess what she decided to do General?”

Xiaon tried to speak but all that came out were grunts as a horrifying realization came over him.

“That’s right....she decided to go on a cruise.”

Amara’s face lost all warmth instantly and Xiaon now felt as if he could sense a deep rage from her that he did not think humans capable of.

“She went on a cruise with some of her friends and that’s when your people blew up her ship. Despite repeated calls that they were unarmed, despite the clear signs that it wasn’t a military vessel, despite there being a fucking swimming pool on the deck in plain view!” Amara’s hand was trembling, the picture shaking in her grasp. “And if it was not bad enough for the universe to take my only daughter away from me they never found her body among the wreckage.” She stood from her chair and went to the window.

“My baby girl is out there somewhere in that cold void, alone and so far from home. My baby girl....”

She met Xiaon with a gaze cut him to the bone. “You attacked an unarmed ship! You murdered hundreds of innocent lives! You took away the only thing that mattered to me!”

She stormed towards him with her arm raised ready to strike him, but stopped herself. The tension in the room felt like a knifes edge as all watched on waiting for what would happen next.

Finally, Amara lowered her hand and straightened herself.

“You attacked the innocent,” She said, the smile slowly returning to her face “and by doing so you have removed any sense of regret I would feel over this.”

She turned back to the window ignoring Xiaon’s confused face.

“Attention all ships.” She spoke loud and with a commanding voice. “The Combra delegate that came aboard my flagship with promises of surrender spoke only lies and attempted to murder the entire leadership.”

“MMPHFR?!?!?” Xiaon shouted into his gag.

“In light of these actions it has become clear that the Combra can not be trusted to peacefully lay down their arms and coexist with the rest of the galaxy. Therefore, for the preservation of peace I hereby authorize orbital bombardments on the entire surface. Turn their world to ash so our fallen may rest in peace. Prepare to fire on my command.”

Xiaon was now screaming into his gag and trying to rise only to be beaten by the guards holding him.

“Admiral Amara we must protest!” The delegates now seemed to find their courage. “We can not permit such actions!” “It is nothing less than genocide!” “We must be better than these animals!”

All Amara had to do was raise a hand to silence them.

“Any ideals of honor or respect between enemies went right out the window the moment they attacked innocent people.”

She stared down the lot of them.

“You might think I am alone in this but there are several hundred grieving families back on Earth that also lost their loved ones to those that didn’t care if they murdered innocent people. We went to war because of them and you all are standing here because of their murder because were it not for that you all would be bowing to this asshole here!” She pointed at Xiaon who was still struggling to get free.

“So shut the hell up, smile for the damn cameras, and go home and say you won the damn war. Because so help me if any of you attempt to get in our way we will hold you no different from the monsters we are about to erase from the galaxy.”

The delegates went silent. No one would dare risk the wrath of humanity, not after learning that a few hundred deaths of humans would make them wish to exterminate an entire species.

“Admiral, all ships report ready to fire.” Came the announcement over the loudspeaker.

Amara looked down at Xiaon one last time as he pleaded as loud as he could for mercy.

“Burn it all.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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nanamicide · 4 years ago

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A life of her own - chapter 2

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The chair Gekkogahara-san had her sit on was strangely comfortable, contrasting with how scared she felt. She had spent the last two days in isolation, completely unable to gather the strength to do anything. She hadn’t eaten, slept, or showered. She’d spent all her time lying in bed, crying every so often. Some people had come to check on her – mostly faculty staff, which didn’t surprise her. Seeing that she wasn’t doing anything, they’d forced her to attend therapy sessions. She had no clue how it was supposed to help her – through her sister’s failure, she’d lost everything she had, even her own identity. Still, they hadn’t really given her the opportunity to say no. Sakakura-san and Great Gozu had violently dragged her out of her room and in the Ultimate Therapist’s office. And here she was, sitting on that plush chair, wishing time would just go by faster. As she didn’t even feel strong enough to run away, she dug her fingernails in her arm, almost drawing blood.

“Ikusaba-chan,” a cartoonish voice called, suddenly filling the room and making Mukuro jump. “I don’t think hurting yourself is going to make anything better.”

Mukuro looked towards her therapist and understood where the voice was coming from. A screen that was attached to her wheelchair was now displaying a white rabbit dressed as magical girl, moving around the device. The soldier couldn’t help but feel annoyed with it. Why wasn’t she directly speaking to her? Was she so disgusted with what she and Junko-chan had done that she couldn’t have a normal conversation with her? Just what type of therapist was she, anyway?

After entertaining the thought for a few seconds, Mukuro decided that she didn’t care. It didn’t matter how Gekkogahara-san felt about her or if she truly wanted to help her. She didn’t want her help, anyway. At this rate, she’d be dead in a few days. There was no point in wasting either of their time.

“You’re right. It’s not going to make me die faster,” she muttered, glaring at the woman who was sitting across from her. Even though it didn’t make any logical sense to her, Mukuro somehow felt angry at Gekkogahara-san.

The sound of keys being hit at a fast space filled the room, soon followed by that artificial voice that made Mukuro grind her teeth:

“You want to die?” The bunny tilted its head to the side.

“What if I do?”

“I would want to know why.”

Mukuro bit her lip, frowning. She knew she didn’t have to play along, but there was something in the way that silly avatar was reacting to her that made her feel like it would be better if she did. She couldn’t tell what it was, but it felt relatively important. Besides, even though the little cartoon character was not real, she had felt some sort of concern in its voice, as though it genuinely cared about her – which frightened her. There was nothing in her to care for nor be concerned about. She was nothing but an empty shell who’d only done evil around herself, and failed the only person she’d sworn to protect. She was pathetic and despicable. She wasn’t someone who was worthy of anyone’s care – not even a magical bunny girl’s.

As she thought about that, Mukuro felt more tears well up in her eyes. She sunk back in the chair, trying to hide her face as she realized she wouldn’t be able to hold them back. She felt weak for crying, and even more so for doing it in front of a stranger. She hated the weak, disgusting mess she’d turned into as soon as things went wrong. And she knew there was no way she could ever snap out of it, which made her dread every single second of her days.

“Is it too hard to put into words?” The bunny asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Unable to speak, Mukuro nodded in response. She didn’t know why she was entertaining this, but now that she started, there was no way she could go back to sitting there in silence, hoping the session would somehow end without her needing to say anything.

“I see.” Gekkogahara-san slid a piece of paper and a pen across her desk. “Perhaps it would help if you wrote it down without me interrupting you or asking questions that make you more upset than you are now.”

“Why do you care?” Mukuro asked, blinking back tears as she stared at the blank sheet of paper that had been placed in front of her. “I could have killed all your friends, don’t pretend like you want to help me.”

Gekkogahara-san suddenly took her hands off the keyboard and spoke, catching Mukuro off guard:

“You are partly responsible for the death of my best friend,” she said. Her voice sounded off, as raspy as that of someone who hasn’t spoken in years. Yet, she didn’t sound angry. “But I don’t blame you for what happened to him. He loved and cared for her just as much as you did, but he’s not there anymore to experience life free of her influence on him. So, not only is it my job to care about what’s going on in your head, but I also have my own personal reasons.”

Mukuro stared at her, dumbfounded. Given that the person Gekkogahara-san was supposed to have loved Junko-chan, she guessed that she was talking about Matsuda-kun. He and her sister had had some sort of romantic relationship ever since they were kids.

“I was jealous of how much she cried when he died,” Mukuro said, trying to change the woman’s mind. “I wanted her to cry as much for me as she was crying for him.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Ikusaba-chan. Whatever you may have done or felt because of her doesn’t change anything to me. You are under my care.” She pushed the sheet of paper closer to her. “Now write.”

Mukuro sighed, grabbing the pen. There was no point in protesting or arguing. It was clear that Gekkogahara-san wouldn’t give this up no matter what she told her. On top of that, there was always the chance that whatever she may end up writing could make the therapist realize that her attempts at helping her are futile. So, Mukuro did was she did best – she followed the order she was given.

I have no purpose. There is nothing I want to do now that Junko-chan is dead. She was everything I had left in my life ; the only person who truly knew me. I have no connection with anyone else. My parents are dead. I betrayed my former comrades in Fenrir for her. I don’t think there is anything left for me to do in life.

Even if there was, I think I would fail whatever task I may pick up. I didn’t get to hear my parents’ last words, but I know that if they could have had even a second to talk to me before passing, they would have told me to protect my sister. I was always the physically stronger sibling, so it would have been natural for them to want me to make sure nothing ever happens to her. I couldn’t even do that. She’s going to be executed because of me, because I let her try to stop Sakakura-san’s investigation instead of silencing him myself. I could have fought and stopped him. I should have done that. I should have told Junko-chan that this was much safer than what she had planned, that I would do what I always did for her – the dirty work. I should have told her that she was too good to even interact with him. I failed. I failed her. I failed my parents. I failed myself.

I don’t care how selfish this sounds. I don’t care if you – or anyone – think that I should redeem myself and make up for whatever I did for her by staying alive. I don’t even want to redeem myself. I don’t deserve redemption. I don’t have a reason to pursue it, or anything else. Besides, even if I tried to be forgiven for all the horrible things I’ve done in my life, only fools would accept me as I am. I’ve killed, manipulated, hurt and betrayed for Junko-chan, for her despair. No one in their right mind would want to associate themselves with me.

Now that Junko-chan will be executed, there is absolutely nothing for me to do. My spirit will die with her. It’s already begun dying. There is nothing to save and change. Everything has been taken away from me.

I don’t even miss what I used to be – I don’t think I have the strength to do so. I just don’t want anything. I don’t want to go back in time, but I don’t want to experience the future. I want to disappear. I’m scared that if I don’t, the grief from failing and the guilt from all the things I’ve done in the past will eat me alive. Yet, I know that if someone invented a time-machine, I wouldn’t do anything any differently. I loved Junko-chan, I’d still do anything for her. That’s another part of why I think I don’t deserve to go on living. I don’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness because I’m not even fully sorry. I feel guilty about what I’ve done, but I don’t regret it.

Once she was done writing, Mukuro slid the sheet of paper across the desk, letting Gekkogahara-san read it. It had been quite painful for her to admit all of this, even on paper, and she couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed knowing that someone else would read it. Letting herself be so vulnerable around a stranger was a new thing for her. She couldn’t tell if it was the right thing. Despite that, she felt different. She couldn’t exactly describe what putting her messy thoughts in order on paper had done to her, but it had definitely done something. Usami’s voice filled the room again, snapping Mukuro out of her thoughts and making her wonder why she couldn’t just speak to her again:

“What you’re feeling isn’t unusual! It’s normal for you to feel like there is nothing left for you to do. Everything you’ve known so far vanished so unexpectedly. It’s okay to be confused and to not know what to do with yourself now, Ikusaba-chan.”

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t you supposed to help me?” She asked, unable to understand why she was disregarding what she’d written about her guilt and lack of regrets – it seemed to be the most important part about it to her, after all.

“I think it’s time for you to try new things!” Usami winked, pointing her magic wand at Mukuro. “Just like what we’re doing now. Opening up to someone is new to you, isn’t it?”

The soldier nodded. She still wasn’t sure where Gekkogahara-san was trying to go with this, but after all of this, she felt more inclined to listen to her suggestions. It hadn’t actually solved any of her problems, but now that she had gotten them out of her system and was discussing them with another person, she had to admit that her situation felt less overwhelming.

“Now that your sister is gone, this isn’t the only new thing you’ll be able to try.” The bunny’s voice was extremely enthusiastic, and Mukuro couldn’t help but cringe. Sure, she had all these possibilities, but it wasn’t like there was anything she wanted to do, no matter how good venting had felt.

“I… I don’t…” She felt hesitant, questioning her very thoughts. “I don’t want to do this alone. It’s terrifying,” she eventually admitted.

“What makes you think you’re alone? Do you really think people will hold everything you’ve done against you knowing your circumstances?”

Mukuro sighed. She hated to admit that Gekkogahara-san had a point. If knowing her story wouldn’t be enough for everyone, the people who had been under Junko-chan’s influence on that fated day would understand – they’d experienced it themselves. Besides, she knew some people would have an easier time forgiving her and accepting her than others. A week ago, she would have thought about it as a stupid weakness, but today, it felt comforting. She nervously tugged on her sleeves, trying to think of what to say.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I don’t know if you’re ready just yet, but when the time is right, I’ll make sure to let your friends come visit you if they want to! For the time being, there is one thing I want you to do to make you feel less hopeless and alone.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Since you aren’t too good at communicating, keeping a diary might help you! You don’t even have to let me read it, I just want you to do it for your own sake, regardless of therapy. It can be one of your new experiences. I’ll also be seeing you every two days, so if the diary is useless, we’ll be able to figure something out together.”

“I… Sure, okay,” Mukuro replied, cringing at the thought of keeping a journal. She was the Ultimate Soldier – something like that felt out of character for her. Following orders, however, did not. That was why she would try it in spite of how she felt about it.

“Wonderful!” Usami jumped around the screen, grinning in victory. Gekkogahara-san was fumbling through her desk’s drawers, until she retrieved a black notebook from one of them. “You can use this as your diary.”

Mukuro took the notebook and stood up as the therapist’s avatar notified her that the session was over, and that she should never hesitate to contact her if she ever felt like she needed to talk. The solider curtly nodded and said goodbye before walking out of the room. She had no idea why, but there had been something in what had happened in that office that had awakened some energy she didn’t know she had. Maybe Gekkogahara-san was right – maybe there were many things she could do and maybe she had to live for all the people whose lives had been cut short because of Junko-chan’s orders.

#naegiri #naekusaba

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