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takiisieju · 1 month ago

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So, a good old while ago, I made this quiz about which specie you'd be in my original world of Interspace.

So I'm reposting it again bc I am once again working on this project. Would love to know your results or results for your OCs!

taglist: @roofgeese @theelderhazelnut @vivilovespink @chewbokachoi

All results under cut in case you want some light reading

TERRANS

Terrans, also known as homo sapiens or humans, are one of the youngest but most influential species of the galaxy. Their home is system Terra. One of Unia’s founder species, Terrans are believed to be so successful because of their adaptability and an ability to compromise and negotiate.

Terrans are social. Some consider them selfish, pragmatic and mercantile, but they are, in fact, highly capable of empathy. They form long-lasting partnerships and value such qualities as kindness, honesty, bravery, selflessness and principles.

In the past, Terrans almost caused an ecological catastrophe on their mother planet, only saving it by moving entirely to other planets of their system.

FERISIKE

Ferisike, or Ischara-atari, as they call themselves, are an old species from the A'Feri'Iskaan system. Nevertheless, for a long time, they were self-isolating, unwilling to participate in interstellar politics.

Surprisingly, their union with Terrans was beneficial. Due to their extreme altruism, Ferisike are an easy target for ill-willing people, and Terrans serve as a safety tool in such environments, often serving as financial and legal advisors. Ferisike prefer it that way, as long as they govern themselves with the same compassion they've always expressed.

PHRISEA

Once the inhabitants of the now destroyed Phrisa system, Phrisea population turned into a single clan and is now faced with inevitable extinction. Terra-3 became their new home, and Terrans became the heirs to their vast scientific knowledge.

Phrisea value knowledge above all else, devoting their lives to research and data systematization. Their society used to be comprised of clans and was a very traditional one, with biological sex determining everything in a specimen's life. Nowadays, the last of this species ignore their gender roles, focusing strictly on passing down as much knowledge as they can.

AL'QARI

Al’Qari are a curious non-humanoid species of highly religious, peaceful bird-like creatures. They are known for loving a good time but having weird ideas of what a good time looks like (it’s praying).

Al’Qari history wasn’t pleasant. Their home system was once conquered by the Ghablors and then by the Etrinns. They believe their faith was what kept their spirits high in all those years of oppression. Now, their system is trying to recover from the Etrinns’ abuse, and the Al’Qari are working on terraforming their planet back to the paradise it once was.

The Al’Qari make great xenoecologists. They are passionate about preserving alien eco-systems, but they are also always on the lookout for species they could bring to repopulate their home planet.

GHABLOR

Ghablors come from the system of Ghab-Ulora. They look unusual, a bit like insect centaurs, and have a very complex language, impossible to understand or imitate without the proper technologies.

Ghablors have a bad reputation for their barbarically militaristic culture. For many years, they were at war with the neighboring systems of Al’Qari and Mar-aan-Taalith. The only reason they are now peaceful is that they are now part of Unia, an ally to Ferisike, Terrans, Phrisea, and even Al’Qari, a species they once oppressed.

Still, it would be entirely wrong to call all Ghablors aggressive. Many of them work as xenomedics and engineers at the Unian Fleet, and aside from the military hierarchy, Ghablors are no more prone to violence than any other species.

TAALITHAN

Taalithans are children of Mar-aan-Taalith, an interstellar colonial state. Their most unusual trait is their genes. With the help of Taalithan genetic science and some artificial wombs, Taalithans are able to make mixed children with most other known species. They are quite proud of this ability, so in Mar-aan-Taalith it is impossible to find a pure-blood taalithan. There are probably no such specimens anymore.

Taalithans value diversity in everything. They are incredibly accepting, sometimes even too much so. While, as any other person, they might have a temper, it is a social norm for them to reconcile with anybody they had a conflict with, or at least not to hold grudges.

MANARIAN

Citizens of the Free State of Manaria were once Etrinn slaves, having freed themselves during the Etrinn-Unian war. Manarians voted against joining the Unia because they wanted to feel as free as possible for as long as possible. However, they did form an alliance with it, along with Mar-aan-Taalith. Aside from that, many Manarians join the Unian Fleet to protect their people — and other species as well — from the Etrinns, should they strike again.

Manarians had lost most of their culture in the years of slavery, but they are known for their free spirits, devotion to whoever they consider their people, and determination. They are usually space workers, engineers or security specialists. They are especially valued on battleships since they know a lot about Etrinn technology and way of thinking.

KELLIRIAN

Kellirians, also known as the interstellar nomads, are eternally traversing the galaxy on their giant spaceships and stations, forming the state of En’Haal. Having no home planet or planetary colonies, they are wary of anything that could damage their ships, so they remain neutral in any conflict, simply fleeing the territory if it becomes dangerous.

That neutrality and freedom are what Kellirians value the most. The Kellirians who join the Unian Fleet are thus considered either overly political or mindless adventurers and are considered odd at best, unstable at worst. Other species, however, find that having a Kellirian as a navigator, engineer, or pilot is very comforting. At least THAT one definitely won’t screw up.

MIP

Mips are as small and seemingly harmless as they are many. Most of them are sadly still Etrinn slaves, but there are a lot of refugee Mips in En’Haal and, lately, in the Free State of Manaria. Small, but surprisingly strong and endurable, they are mostly manual workers working low-paying jobs in En’Haal or builders and soldiers in Manaria.

Mips stick with their families, living in crowded communes, up to five generations in one house. They value their family ties and community spirit, and when they move to work for the Unian Fleet, they usually try to have at least one relative, however distant, on the same ship or station. Mips are known for their ability to make any team feel like a family and every ship - like home.

ETRINN

Etrinns come from a dead system of Etrinn. Having lost their home to an ecological catastrophe they’ve caused, they conquer other systems to extract resources from them, often bringing them to a similar ecological collapse and enslaving their inhabitants. Their society is a militaristic technocracy hellbent on maintaining its productivity and discipline. The only other species they consider only somewhat inferior to them are Jaffo Ammeri and Kellirians, both of them known for the same pragmatism Etrinns pride themselves on.

After the war, some Etrinns sought refuge in the Free Interspace. A handful of them even joined the Unian Fleet; one of them became an admiral. Despite discrimination and their peers’ distrust, Etrinns make for good officers, serving especially well as the Firsts.

JAFFO AMMERI

Jaffo Ammeri are vassals of the Etrinn Empire, the only species they’ve spared from slavery or destruction. Unlike Etrinns, Jaffo Ammeri are good diplomats and businessmen. They maintain good relations and stable trade between the Empire and En’Haal, and their fashion largely influences even the least Etrinn-friendly species. Often, the only way somebody can negotiate with an imperial Etrinn is through a Jaffo Ammeri advisor.

Jaffo Ammeri value comfort, stability, and social connections. They keep their territories in good condition, building beautiful palaces and entertainment centers.

There are very few Jaffo Ammeri in the Unian Fleet, and they usually serve as advisors and diplomats. It earns them the reputation of cowards, but in truth, they are simply rather slow physically.

#uquiz #original world #project: irv leviathan #sci fi

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rake-rake · 5 months ago

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On students & magic.

Merlin didn't truly take on students. Capricious thing she was, it was simply too rare for her to ever take on a liking to someone enough as to want to teach him, and even if she did it would be even rarer for the person to have aptitude for it. She only ever taught people for two reasons: either she liked the person, or she simply didn't have other choice, which encompasses all of the 3 people she ever taught.

Vortigern. She didn't particularly want to, but she wasn't opposed either, yet she didn't have much choice either. Yet, he was never truly a proper student due to him being an adult and she a kid back then, besides of the constant of his sound dislike for her. He had also already learnt from Taliesin before, so all she did was teach him the bases of "dark" magic such as necromancy and blood rituals, which was enough for him to figure out whole new applications and possibilities by adding it to his previous knowledge. She thought he was a prodigy, and was saddened he didn't intend to learn more from her.

Uther. She offered to teach him herself. To her, of course, Uther is the pinnacle of what an human and king should be, thus she was thrilled to share her knowledge with him and ecstatic when he showed outstanding aptitude for it. She taught him everything she could and took great joy on his positive reception.

Arthur. Just obligation of doing her best to keep him alive. Unlike Vortigern and Uther he had no aptitude for dark magic which was highly disappointing, but then again she was used to him disappointing her. She limited her teaching to botanical knowledge, divination, and similar things only.

Now although these are the only ones she's ever taught, it doesn't mean she would never teach anyone else. Yet, there's a very specific set of requirements the person must fulfill for her to do so.

He must be a man, non negotiable. Exactly for the reason one would think.

He must be fully human, no magical blood of any sort mixed in. Merlin despises magical creatures of all kind, with fairies being the worst. The only exception to this are the Pendragons.

He must be royalty of some kind. It doesn't matter how low or high on the line, but there must be status in his blood. Because she's a royal mage, naturally she would never serve a peasant.

He must be an incredibly determined person, a warrior of some kind. She would never teach a coward that can't stand by himself. She will teach him magic as a complement to what he already has, not to be all he has.

She must like him. As simple as that, yet she only ever truly likes people who's wicked of some sort. (See Uther).

All of this is of course in order to properly take a student. However, she's still likely to drop small pieces of knowledge here and there in different situations. She takes great joy on watching men suffer, so she often will share knowledge that will be too much for them to handle, knowing very well it will mean their self destruction. Of course, it is their own fault for following through; human greed knows no boundaries.

#○ ° ★ . * 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠.#○ ° ★ . * 𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛.

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thylacoleocarn · 8 months ago

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it took 10+ years but i finally give you…… gaynya

(okay yes, technically this is nomad valerie but she's Just Another Enya so im going to refer to her as such. it counts!)

sam! theyre just two best friends who make out and have sex sometimes :) PLENTY more below the cut, but that's a fair enough summary tbh

so the real catalyst for their relationship is, as said in the big au rambling post (hint hint), shared trauma. theyre only a year apart (enya's 12, sam 13) and before everything they werent really friends since they had such differing interests.

during their confinement, the only comfort they found was with each other. it was easy enough to maintain post-abduction, strengthened by enya going mute to everyone besides sam, and both feeling safer together. plus, enya being beside sam gives her the confidence to speak up for them both. became almost completely inseparable. both have moments where they need to be alone - enya's paranoia needing her to be on lookout, sam's to finding a quiet, dark corner - but otherwise, one was never seen without the other. and always holding hands, mostly so sam can drag enya around.

once in their teens (14, 15), they start to branch into more sexual territory. experimenting etc. gives them the assurance to try the same with others (sam morose than enya). this is where the friend-dating line gets blurred, though both agree that dating comes with too many expectations and prefer the friend label for ease. even if they both know theyre not really that, either, hence, friend soulmates.

they both think theyre being subtle, but even in public, they are very physically affectionate. doesnt take too long for most everyone else to pick up on it. generally their relationship is thought of as… odd, but theyre not hurting anyone and make each other happy.

as they get a bit older, they get more comfortable spending time apart. give each other space to explore their hobbies, interests, and other relationships.

they dont have any real fights until after enya's first gig (18, 19) - comes back injured and snaps at sam's concern (out of pain, but she's still unnecessarily nasty about it). sam, understandably, takes offense and refuses to talk to her for a few months. theyre both miserable and make everyone around them miserable and everyone just wants them to make up. enya does apologize and sam accepts it, eventually, but its not the same as before.

on the sarah note, enya is up front with him about how, while she (and sam) arent good at articulating why, they know theyre very important to each other and that's a non negotiable. big ol monk man is, of course, fine with this. the schism between her and sam is a big reason enya is drawn to sarah as quick as she is (though that's just how sarah and enya work out tbh).

still, sam and enya are together again, happy. both mellow out more as they get older (21, 22). tease each other endlessly, especially so sam to enya once she finds out about her and sarah. supportive of her girl!! one of the handful of people at their ceremony. so proud.

cant last forever (though they would if they could). shifting back to canon, sam decides to leave a year prior to the bakkers disbanding. enya sticks around a few more months, call it hope, but its hard on both of them.

they stay in contact and do reconnect post-relic. sam ends up finding herself a lovely wife and a surprising amount of enjoyment running a diner kitchen. enya stays with the aldecados, but if theyre ever near enough to flagstaff, she'll make the trip to spend time with her best friend.

i dont have a WHOLE lot on her specifics, but for the time being:

=minimal cyberware. also has memory dampeners in place, more due to panic attacks. has them removed much later through controlled therapy. =is the more fiery of the two. snarky, mouthy, stubborn. capable of backing up her actions, but isnt really a fighter. thats what enya's there for, who will defend her girl, regardless of who started it. sam returns the favor, just with words, not fists (or her knife, if need be). =likes working with her hands, but not so much with machines. handy and knowledgeable. might not be a fighter, but an excellent driver. has run a few gigs with enya where she needed the extra help. =her clothing choice indicates this, but is not comfortable with much (any) exposed skin. therapy helps later on down the road, but until then, she stays covered. will whine about how hot she is only to enya. around anyone else she puts on a very brave and stoic face (which enya teases her about, of course). =same with smoking. will share a cigarette with enya, maybe a puff at a party, but straitlaced otherwise.

(i TOLD yall i was obsessed with this au)

#thylart #traditional art #digital art #enya.#cyberpunk 2077

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themindofus · 11 months ago

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My beliefs (TW: Religion, trauma, firearms, cheating, illicit substances,

This is going to be a long one. Strap in please. Most of us know what Christianity is. Most of us know what religion is. Some of us have had religious experiences. I grew up in the United States, which Christianity is the dominant religion of. I only agreed with it because every one else did. I didn't know what it meant to believe something, only to trust something. Around the age of 11 I decided to disagree with the religion. I didn't want to put my belief into someone who allows suffering to occur. Silly of me to put human standards on an entity, but I was young and at the time, this God seemed morally unjust, so I didn't ascribe. I understand there are reasons for this in the religion, however as you will read, the religion goes against what I currently (aged 23) believe in distinct and non-negotiable ways. I knew belief was a choice, just like causing pain to others was also a choice. I decided since there wasn't another religion to flood into Christianity's place, I'd accept atheism. Stayed that way for years.

My mystical experiences took off in early adulthood with with exploration of illicit substances. Granted, it wasn't my first time with the substances (all for psilocybin), at least not with the substance that catalyzed the mystical experience. So college looked like high school when I was a freshman. I felt weak, small, new, and vulnerable. I mention this because this openness possibly influenced my experience. Sonetime when I was 19, I was on psilocybin at my (then current, now ex) partner's townhouse. I had my first sign of emotional breakthrough (an experience of emotional catharsis on psychedelics, for more information about this terminology, please visit the article named Emotional Breakthrough and Psychedelics: Validation of the Emotional Breakthrough Inventory by authors Leon Roseman et al., 2019). I called my people, tried to get comfort from my partner (they did not satisfy my needs), and decided to take a bath. I remember dosing because why not? I had free will. I didn't care about set and setting. I would say I should have but.. people should care about their set and setting on psychedelics. Because I had no care at the time, it lead me to this experience. As dangerous as that may have been, I wouldn't change it for the universe. I had a bad day at work. I remember taking a gram, waiting an hour, feeling nothing and taking a second, and then emotions started to rise, so I let them out with my mouth, I sang. It was beautiful. I thought of a friend who recently (at the time) decided they did not want to be my friend and experienced gratitude towards their words and pain for their absence. I called my closest friend (at the time), who did not answer, so I left a voicemail describing what I was experiencing with sound and how much I missed my absent friend. I drew a bath and sat in it after crying aimlessly on my ex partner's lap. I don't remember the experience of the bath very well, but I remember feeling my body and my soul and feeling that they were separate from one another. I had bath crayons and drew my soul on the wall. No images were taken of my soul, but I remember many blues and yellows. Soon (in another post) I'll explain colors.

At the same townhouse, I actively emotionally cheated on my ex partner. This is not something I am proud of and if I could, I'd make everything up to all parties involved. One night, myself and the friend I was falling for were drinking ethanol. We were up pretty late. My partner left a firearm for protection purposes. Well.. long story short we thought we took all the bullets out, I shot a table attempting to demonstrate it's safety (it was not safe), no police were called or anything..oddly, and then after a panic attack, I had a mysical experience. Poor friend of mine.. they didn't need that experience but there it is. I am so so ashamed of this story. Basically, due to my first experience with human death, I believed our soul is the thing that animates our bodies, our pieces of matter. I believed we all came from a big soul (I affectionately named it The Souls) that essentially reduced reused and recycled pieces of itself. And we are all this soul, but we have to be on earth. I didn't exactly figure out why in that initial epiphany.

Things are different now. Four years have elapsed since my mystical experience. Now I see things..differently but not really? Well, I still believe the soul animates the body, I do believe we are here on earth for a mission though (for a view at my subjective/personal context to this "mission", I would like you to reference the album Portals by Melanie Martinez). I think we are all here to answer a question that The Universe thought. Thoughts so powerful it created entire beings in the third dimension. I don't know the exact mystics of it all.. I've been trying to mathmatecize it. Kinda think of it like string theory (see below video). Its by no means formal and I don't have any equations or anything, but its interesting. So I view these dimensions like the below image and conceptualize the 4th dimension as the mind or the soul or whatever. My thing is the mind and memory is based off emotion, so the higher your emotional intelligence, the more likely you are to harness the power of the 4th dimension. That power being "magic" but less magic, more math in my experience. I'm attempting to figure out what this soul is made out of. I know its emotion but you know. Anyways, next is Color Theory. And I am referencing the study of how colors work together and how they affect our emotions and perceptions, but in metaphysical terms. Thanks for reading!

youtube

#string theory #themindofus #thoughts #mystical #substance use #trigger words #math #°¤•.#Youtube

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imbuity · 1 year ago

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I need a place to type-journal that isnt the fanfic blog but also isnt the main blog or my notion entries because all of those are for other people to see.

It has to be SSRI time, right? Like this has gone on for so long and is impacting my nutrition and has hit a real plateau where I am sort of able to do things but not to the degree that they Need To Get Done (not even counting socializing which I am trying to do less of but like, the schoolwork aspect - I'm here journalling this out instead of doing the assignment that I Definitely Need To Do since it's due at 11:59 tonight).

Like, I guess I can give myself a year on pause. June-June is still enough time to be in tiptop shape for the weddings, because those are the goals we are going for here - be able to handle the stress of flying, of being social, of maybe giving a speech, etc. And right now, I cannot handle the stress of "go out to dinner with anyone" which is a much lower level.

Which like, isn't a level I need to be hitting now. In fact, it is a better budget move to not be hitting that; but the point is at some point in my life I will need to do these things to maintain the relationships I have the way that I have them.

Point that I am just thinking of now thats only tangentially related; Hitomi is an excellent example of counter-culture while still being desirable. She, while still yknow travelling and going to restaurants and stuff, acknowledges very openly that she doesnt want to see people and spends a lot of time just like in the forest. And she is still *cool* as fuck. Embrace your new life path as a counter-culture in the same way that Isabel and Hitomi do, where they don't adhere to "norms" by virtue of their living spaces but are still fundamentally engaging. Foster that forest, witch girl energy in yourself to remove yourself from social circles while still feeling at ease with your self-concept.

Ok back to this SSRI thing, the point that holds me back is the feeling of them being a last resort. So, a), it feels like it isn't time yet to bring in the big guns because I am actively getting better (this is true. even if it is so slow, it is true), and b), what if it doesn't fix it and so then I'm just stuck with the knowledge that oh shit this IS how I am and there's no way to fix it. Granted, there are a bunch of different types of anti-anxiety medications so there probably will always be a "next step" to try.

The other point is like, these things very commonly cause nausea. Inducing nausea in me to combat my fear of nausea seems incredibly unwise. But, as this man stated in his book, he has never known someone to throw up from them. Cassa is the only one you know to have done so, and thats really because thats the only thing her body knows how to do goddamn. If you start at an incredibly low dose, go to sleep right after you take them, you should be ok. Because you do have anxious predispositions, this probably would be a good all-around treatment for the 6-12 months they are recommended.

Maybe we wait a little longer, get closer to wedding time. Because if you're still doing this poorly (i.e.; certainly unable to make a speech, haven't gained enough weight to sit comfortably on the plane for 6 hours, not going to have even one glass of champagne) then something will need to be done about that, because these are non-negotiable tasks. But maybe for now you can keep letting these neural pathways die and see how that goes for a few months, because you are keeping your grades quite high and you are meeting baseline caloric needs. Everything else, living your life, that can come later.

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piceuscelus · 2 years ago

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yennskier hate-fucking at a company christmas party? perhaps there's some spiked punch involved.

idk that i actually managed proper hatefucking, but. i tried. i had a fantastic time, too lmfao

also the timing of this makes it both a very, very late christmas present, and an early one :D happy holidays nonny

went over the 5k, so it's here on ao3, aaaaaand

snip below :D

She’ll give her boss credit where it’s due – he looks like he’s going to piss himself, but he doesn’t stammer when he speaks, and he looks her right in the eye, too.

Doesn’t change the fact that, “I’m serious, Ms. Vengerberg. This company social is non-negotiable, and I expect to see you there,” is the last thing she wants to hear.

– – – – –

Really, she wouldn’t care – socials are boring, and holiday socials are worse, but they’re part and parcel to this level of office work; socializing gets deals made, and nepotism is strong in any industry – but the thing about a company-wide social is that everyone is there.

Everyone. Including her boss’ boss, who is a lech and a creep, and about half a dozen other very rich, powerful men who all seem to find total delight in hitting on her and letting their hands wander.

Which is also part and parcel for the industry, really, but unlike the poorly-socialized troglodytes on her team, or the random assistants and pencil pushers she encounters in her day-to-day, she can’t pin them to a wall and threaten the integrity of their testicles if they don’t knock it off and mind their own business.

Or, well, she could, if she was alright with losing the job that she did not fuck anyone to get, thank you very much, but instead slaved at a desk for nearly ten years for.

She squints at the light still on in her boss’ office and sighs, pulling her phone out of her purse.

> to: Geralt >> I’m coming over

She puts her phone back without waiting for a response, gathers her things from her desk, and lets the authoritative click of her heels on tile soothe her as she marches to the elevator.

– – – – –

Geralt is already there at the door to let her in when she pulls up, and he looks concerned.

“Everything alright?” he asks, as she reaches the step, holding out a hand, and she bypasses it entirely just to hug him. He feels nice and comfortably solid in her arms, and he’s warm, too, especially when he wraps his arms around her in return. She almost forgets that they’re standing halfway into the doorway of his house in the middle of December.

“Fine,” she mutters, even though it’s technically a lie. Well, it’s a lie and it’s not; she is fine, she’ll be fine, she’s just…grumpy. Not thrilled about having to figure out what to wear – what to dress Geralt in – for a semi-formal, professional gathering on short notice.

Ignoring the fact that she’s known about this shindig for two months, she didn’t think she’d have to attend, so she hadn’t worried about it.

“You sure about that?” Geralt asks, running his fingers through her hair.

She swats at him, mostly show, muttering, “You’ll ruin the curls I worked so hard on this morning.”

He snorts. “It’s nearly ten o’clock, Yen,” he points out. “And the snow has already done that. C’mon, come inside.”

She huffs and lets him pull her into the warmth of the house, lets him prod her into a seat on the couch, and continues to let him as he bustles about, bringing her a liberally spiked hot chocolate and a blanket before he settles next to her.

“Jaskier?” she asks, raising the mostly-whiskey hot chocolate, and Geralt snorts again, nodding. She tips her head onto the back of the couch, giving her a small sightline to the kitchen. She can’t see Geralt’s flighty, live-in menace, but if she focuses she can hear him humming. “This had better be the good whiskey, boytoy!”

She hears a clatter and then a laugh. “Would I ever dare give Geralt’s dearest ice queen anything else?” he shouts back, and she rolls her eyes, then turns back to Geralt.

“Gonna tell me what has you over here so late, and so suddenly?” he asks, pulling absolutely no punches, and not for the first time Yennefer curses the effect Jaskier has had on her boyfriend.

It’s a good effect, don’t get her wrong, but she kind of misses when she could keep her upsets to herself and brood for a while before he’d try to pry. Now he pretty much refuses to let her unless she explicitly asks him to drop it, and gods, she hates asking like that.

“I told you about that Yule party at the office,” she says. “The company-wide one.”

Geralt nods, and steals the mug from her hands to take a sip before giving it back. When she raises a brow, he gives a lopsided little smile.

“It’s the good whiskey,” he says, and she isn’t sure if he’s just being a ridiculously cute little thief, or trying to assure her that Jaskier was genuine, but either way it makes her laugh.

“Alright,” she says, and takes a drink herself. It is the good whiskey, in fact, and she sighs, relaxing a little more into the couch.

“So what about the party?”

“We have to go,” she says. “Or, well, I have to go, and I am not bearing that without a partner. And you look sufficiently scary when you’re frowning to keep the, ah, handsier executives from descending like hawks.”

She expects Geralt to groan, or maybe laugh at her wording, but all she gets is silence, and when she turns to look at him he looks…almost pained.

She raises her eyebrows again. Geralt gives her a look that she thinks is meant to be a smile, but looks more like a grimace.

“It’s the weekend before Yule, right?” he says, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Yennefer remembers.

He’s flying out to go see family, that weekend, and won’t be back until the day before Yule.

“Fuck.” She downs the rest of the hot chocolate in one go, and then is disappointed that there’s not more alcohol in it. “Fuck!”

She can’t ask him to stay, not for something so petty and unimportant as an office party. Not when he hasn’t seen his brothers in months, and his father for even longer than that. She doesn’t even want to ask him to stay, because frankly, she likes him better when he’s recently seen his brothers – he makes better decisions when he can get all of the chaos out with them.

“Sorry,” he says, and she’s about to tell him not to be, it’s not his fault, but Jaskier is appearing at the side of the couch before she can even open her mouth.

“I’m free that weekend,” he says, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that spells so much trouble.

And she wants to say no, immediately, because Jaskier is…fine, she guesses, but he’s firmly Geralt’s, and Geralt’s problem, specifically. They don’t not get along, but she finds him irritating and obnoxious and over-the-top, and she’s happy Geralt has him, of course she is, but she’s never quite figured out what it is Geralt sees in him, because…. Well, he’s Geralt. He’s stoic and kind of emotionally constipated and prefers quiet nights in unless Lambert has wheedled him into a stupid bet, and Jaskier is….

Well, they met when Geralt got dragged to a drag show at a gay club, and they’d left a mess of glitter in Geralt’s old apartment that had never quite left, which should tell anyone exactly what kind of person Jaskier was.

And is, for that matter.

But before she can manage to make herself say it, tell him no, absolutely not, I’m not going anywhere with you, she finds herself…thinking about it.

Sure, Jaskier isn’t as scary as Geralt, but usually the presence of a boyfriend is plenty enough to ward off all but the most heinous of assholes, and for those, well.

She’s seen video evidence of Jaskier breaking a homophobe’s wrist with one hand and some well-applied physics before, so – she knows he’s plenty capable of being scary, even if most of the time he looks like a gust of wind and a well-placed insult could end his life.

“I…. Do you own a suit?”

“I own ten suits, for your information,” Jaskier grins, and when Yennefer blinks at him, genuinely shocked, he clarifies. “One for each color of the rainbow, plus pink, black, and gray.”

She drops her head into her hands and groans. “Of course. Of course.”

Geralt, still to her side, snorts and takes the empty mug from her lap, leaving the couch to go put it away, or maybe refill it, she isn’t sure. Jaskier remains right where he is, cackling like a madman.

Gods, she is so fucked.

“Fine,” she says. “You can come with, for the sake of my sanity and my career, but I swear to the gods, Jaskier, if you don’t do as you’re told, I will make you regret it.”

Jaskier is still grinning, all perfectly straight, white teeth, when she looks back up at him, and Geralt returns with a full mug, entirely whiskey this time, gods bless him.

“Yes, my ever-frosty queen,” he says, with a flourishing bow, and she reaches over to the other side of the couch to retrieve a pillow to whack him with.

#celus writes #dead dove #dead dove: do not eat #celus public sex cw #...i think that's it lmfao

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honestgrins · 4 years ago

Note

if you're doing prompts... Mates Trope?! something during s1-2 of TO where part of the reason the wolves (or maybe just the elders who are very righteous about tradition) don't trust klaus is because he wanders around with everyone but his mate (which for this purpose i guess they can sense when a wolf is mated)

Oh || Klaroline

Elijah frowned deeply. “I’m not sure which scenario would be less tolerable to the pack, you being disrespectful to the mate bond or being mated to a vampire.”

Cradling the noticeable swell of her baby bump, Hayley snorted. “I might very well be carrying the next alpha with his disrespectful ass, so they’ll get over it eventually,” she pointed out. “But the vampire thing is always going to be a problem.”

“Not if Miss Forbes stays away from New Orleans.”

That was the crux of it, truly. Whether or not he had a mate, there was precious little Klaus could do about it in the eyes of the pack while she gave his city a wide berth. Honestly, her absence would likely make it all easier for them to swallow - perhaps to forget entirely with a few generations of distance. The thought left a hollow feeling in his chest, one far more noticeable since learning of his…predicament.

Learning he was to be a father after a millennium of running from the only one he’d ever known had been difficult enough. He’d ingratiated himself into the fabric of New Orleans in order to situate it to his needs, even softening the wolf pack to the idea of his leadership outside of the traditional hierarchy - at least, until he returned from Mystic Falls with a freshly established mate bond he apparently left behind.

A mate bond he could only imagine began with a defiant kiss and a slow-rising smile as bright as a sunlit afternoon.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know a thing about it until Hayley broke the news as to why the pack had turned against him. It was small comfort to know her use as a direct line in the camp, but he needed more. He knew so little about life as a wolf, that having been denied him for so long. “How can they know that I’ve found my mate?” Suspicion was a long-earned habit, and nothing was adding up. “How can they sense it here when I had no idea with her right in my arms?”

With a delicate cough, Elijah leaned forward to take some of his focus off Hayley. “I understand this is a difficult revelation, and there’s much to be learned about the mate phenomenon. However, I feel there’s a decided advantage in ensuring Miss Forbes is a non-factor in the politics of the city.”

His hand was around his brother’s throat before he could consciously think to do it, his hybrid strength more than enough to pin Elijah to the wall. “Stop. Talking.”

“Klaus.” Hayley’s voice was shaking, and her hands now covered her belly in a protective gesture. “You feel it now, don’t you? The need to protect her above all else?” She stood slowly, careful not to spook him further. “Even over your own brother?”

With excruciating control, he loosened his grip, finger by finger. “Alright,” he breathed once he could manage it past the sudden onslaught of rage. “I’m listening.”

“Caroline, you’re up!”

For at least the third time that afternoon, Caroline reminded herself there were too many witnesses at the Fall Festival to eat her sorority sisters. "I'm all for scamming money out of sleaze bags in the name of philanthropy, but I still think there are better ways to go about it than a kissing booth."

Amber just scoffed. "Suck it up, pledge, we all had to pay our dues," she said, divesting herself of the Gamma blue sash that said Kiss me! and handing it to Caroline. "If it helps, there's a total hottie in line. I almost extended my shift to get a chance at him."

Rolling her eyes, she forced a pageant smile as she slipped the sash over her head. "Thanks for your sacrifice."

"Funny," a familiar voice noted behind her. "You never thanked me for any of the sacrifices I made."

With a deep breath, she tried to make herself count to ten before turning. Call it personal growth that she made it to six when her glare fell on Klaus waiting at the booth. "I'm sorry, are we including the time you literally tried to sacrifice me? Because I'm so not in the mood to deal with you today, in case you can't tell."

"Oh my god, Caroline!" Amber looked mildly scared, but she took a step in front of her anyway, a stance she recognized from other sisters at any number of frat parties when a creep made himself known. "Who is this guy? Do I need to call security?"

She glanced back to Klaus, who remained uncharacteristically quiet as she decided what to do. Reluctantly, she met Amber's eyes with widened pupils. "Everything is fine, but someone needs to cover my shift. You never saw him, and I went home sick." When Amber obediently repeated her words, she also returned the sash. "Thanks!" she called out, quick as she was to flash away from the crowd, knowing he would follow.

Her dorm wasn't exactly a safe bet, given Elena and Damon's constant sexiling, and she didn't want to risk Bonnie catching them on campus. The only place she could think of was the wooded trail behind the chemistry building, where she found a quiet bench for them to sit. Well, for him to sit and for her to pace in front of. "We had a deal, Klaus. You weren't supposed to come back."

"To Mystic Falls," he clarified, his hands pressed together between his knees. At her decided frown, he allowed himself a sigh of discomfort. "Unfortunately, I have good reason to violate the spirit of our agreement."

She crossed her arms and waited.

He sighed again. "Sweetheart-"

"Just rip the band-aid off, Klaus!"

"I need you to accompany me back to New Orleans, and I need you to trust me enough to keep you safe," he said. With eyes intent on hers, his energy seemed barely contained, like he wanted nothing more than to grab her and go. "I would like you to do so freely. And quickly."

Her arms tightened, and she sank onto her jutted hip as she took in his plaintive request. "Points for being polite, I guess, but I doubt you would be if I were in any real danger. What I don't know is if this is you being overly cautious or just being a dick."

Rubbing two fingers at his temple, there was an ancient exhaustion in his face. "Neither of us can truly know what this is," he muttered to himself more than anything. He spoke up with more resolve. "Elijah wanted to hide you away in one of our many properties throughout the world, and Rebekah suggested a less involved plan that offered you an anonymous scholarship across the country - anything to keep you far away from me."

"Why are your siblings trying to get rid of me?" she demanded. "I didn't even do anything."

He shifted on his feet, and he couldn't quite meet her eyes. If he weren't Klaus Mikaelson, she might think he were embarrassed. "Your absence in New Orleans has been noted."

Confused, she pressed her hands to her face. "I seriously doubt that, since I've never been there. The only people I know in New Orleans is your family, and you've already established they don't want me there."

His ears flushed red, and then she knew he was embarrassed. "Hayley has found a home with nearby pack," he explained with a wince, "a pack that could prove necessary to the balance of the city. However, they are disinclined to negotiate with me at the moment."

"Gee, I wonder why. How many of them have you killed so far?"

Klaus gave a ferocious glare. "None, actually. But perhaps you missed the fact that a wolf with a known grudge against you is well placed to inform any number of enemies of your name and location."

The scoff burst out of her without permission, an absolute confidence emboldening her. "Like you'd let that happen."

Then he took a step closer, and that confidence withered into a new understanding - one that scared her. His voice lowered, soft in its menace. "Why do you think I'm here, Caroline?"

She swallowed, the tension unbearably thick between them. "I'm no one," she said, her voice shaky as she fought for the calm she felt only moments before. "Even if they could use me against you-"

"They can," he answered, deadly serious. "And they will. Maybe not now, but someday." He watched her closely; for what, she didn't know. His whole face softened whenever he found whatever he was looking for. "I'm only just beginning to understand myself," he admitted. "But you're far from no one, and I need to establish that you're firmly under my protection."

"Why?" He never really answered her questions, Caroline realized. This one, though... This, she needed to know. "Why me?"

His eyes seemed to burn with gold, and she held her breath as he stared. "Wolves know when another has found their mate, and this pack has judged my character unfit for abandoning mine."

If she weren't a vampire, she would swear her legs might collapse beneath her. As it was, her head felt suddenly light. Her mouth fell open, and she finally remembered to breathe. When she exhaled, it escaped as a sigh. "Oh."

"Yes, oh."

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #listen #i tried about six versions of this fic and they all kept getting worse #i'm sorry this is the best i can do but #i hope you like it!#to rely on the kindness of strangers #fic: oh

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cathkaesque · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 4,440 times in 2022

That's 1,832 more posts than 2021!

438 posts created (10%)

4,002 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@plum-soup

@b2supertiddydroid

@damnesdelamer

@gunsandfireandshit

@radiofreederry

I tagged 749 of my posts in 2022

#bird tag - 20 posts

#socialism - 17 posts

#me - 15 posts

#trade unions - 12 posts

#morocco - 9 posts

#sainsburys - 8 posts

#tesco - 8 posts

#plane tag - 7 posts

#yeah - 7 posts

#la via campesina - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and everyone else is too busy trying to negotiate the fact they can't buy anything and their savings have evapourated due to hyperinflation

My Top Posts in 2022:

Politics is on hold it seems

833 notes - Posted September 10, 2022

speaking of unfortunate 9/11 predictions here’s the cover of The Coup’s album, created in June 2001. Boots Riley fought to keep the original cover despite 9/11 but sadly it had to be re-released with a new cover in November.

1,656 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

I got a book about Honduran history to prep myself and I want to wish Hilary Clinton a very burn in hell. The country went from 10 political murders in the 2000s to the police going around burning villages in collaboration with drug gangs after the 2009 coup.

1,967 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

When it comes to understanding migration, this needs to be taken into account: if you are in a rural area in the global south, like Honduras, you have basically no access to social services, medicine, and education. In fact, the funding for those services is actually being cut, as the social security funds have been looted by corrupt politicans appointed by a military coup. Then you have to factor in that you likely have no access to the land, and no access to credit to buy seeds, and have to sell yourself for basically pennies to an agroindustrial giant. The peasants feed the local people; the agroindustries feed the Americans. In Guatamala, there is a neo-corporate fuedalism where you are allowed a patch of land if you are willing to work, unpaid, for coffee plantations which sell their produce to the German company Ritz. If you attempt to settle unoccupied land, a local businessman will claim it is his without any proof, and the police will take his side because the Agrarian Reform Institute, which issues land titles, is controlled by coupists whose main concern is squeezing as much wealth out of the country as possible. Thugs will murder a man and his wife in broad daylight, and the judge will respond by evicting you and your family from the land.

There is nowhere else for you to go but Tegucigalpa, where you can work trying to wash car windows or selling snacks to passing cars for a handful of lempira a day. Or perhaps you could work for a few dollars a day in one of the maquila factories making textiles for the American and European market, which are set up in special economic zones called Charter Cities where the constitution and labour laws do not apply, which can close down and spirit away whenever they like to another country when they are more willing to sell their people for even less. And then you have to factor in the hurricanes that sweep through the country, destroying everything, that the rains no longer come when they used to but when they do they come in flooding torrents. Much of the north of Honduras is currently underwater; most of the banana and coffee plantations have been destroyed.

And then you factor in when you tried to change this via electing a better government in 2006, he was overthrown in 2009; when you tried to get organised and resist the coup, your friends, your loved ones, your trade union leaders and peasant resisters all turned up mysteriously dead while the military and police worked with drug gangs disguised as agribusiness like the Dinant coproration to burn down villages that opposed them. For trying to change things in the way that you were supposed to, through non violently protesting, organising, and voting for something better, you were subjected to a decade of counterrevolutionary terror and violence that the “international community” not only ignored but gave its active approval to. All of the factors listed above have not only been ongoing for the last 10 years, they’ve been intensified, hothoused by the global counterrevolutionary terror that was the response to the 2011 wave of post-financial crisis uprisings and revolutions and accelerating climate apocalypse.

And at the same time, all of this is being done so more of the country can be turned into a massive cash cow for the benefit of foreign corporations and domestic oligarchs. The wealth of your country is siphoned off and flows around the American and European financial system, benefiting them and building a consumer disneyland that looks like paradise compared to your situation. That could, even if you are worked for nothing, give you a few dollars to send home that could build your abuela in the countryside a nice home for her to live out her days. What other option is left for you and your family other than joining the exodus of people heading north, to the countries where the wealth and profits and rewards of your homeland’s suffering are being kept. And after you cross mountains and rivers which freeze you to death and sweep you away, you are faced with a massive border wall of ahte and soldiers on horses which hit you with sticks. You are faced with an immigration detention centre that will chain you to your bed while you give birth and separate you from your baby who will be given away for adoption to a white couple. When you make a charge against the border fence in Melilla, fed up with being kept in shacks with nothing while the Northerners debate what to do about the problem people their greed has forced to move, the Moroccan police will beat 35 of you to death.

And then when you get there to that golden paradise, you end up doing work not dissimilar to the work you were doing back home, working for pennies (though pennies that are valuable enough back home to buy the family that remain the tiniest slice of comfort) for an agroindustrial giant that supplies supermarkets with cheap produce picked by cheaper people. While you work in the fields, a crop duster plane will spray you with paraquat; when support organisations try to raise this with OSHA they will ask for the plane’s number, and when this can’t be provided they will say nothing can be done. In fact, inspectors are ordered to stay away from the plantations on the Texas border. A member of the Border Agricultural Workers Project says she hasn’t seen a normal child born on the border in 20 years, such is the effect of agrichemicals. If you fuck up in the slightest, have any interaction with the state, you will be deported and sent back to square one. There are a 14 million migrants in the US in the same precarious state, effectively without any way of enforcing their rights. My aunt is a Mexican migrant in California. Her son was deported because he got a speeding ticket. It was 15 years before she saw him again, other than through the bars of the border fence, when she finally got her green card.

The situation in Honduras can be repeated for almost any other country. Syria, Venezuela, Iraq, South Sudan, Libya, all the headline countries are countries that have been subjected to a severe counterrevolutionary terror. The processes of dispossession and destruction of peasant economies and communities (primitive accumulation to use the Marxist jargon) have been hothoused over the last decade by war and violence. I just wish that relatively comfortable people in the imperialist countries realised that the “migrant crisis” is the result of policies that their governments forced on others. Violence that their elites made their fortunes off. What a monstrous, barbarous way of life we have.

3,384 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

11,196 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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maxwell-grant · 4 years ago

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Cass wouldn’t even begrudingly tolerate [the Black Bat], because she’s even less lenient than Bruce on killing and far more willing to throw down.' - THANK YOU for remembering that.

Cass is my favorite Batfam member, the only one really that I have an active interest in reading about. I'd be incredibly ignorant to not bring bring up such a crucial aspect of her characterization. And even if I didn't personally care for her, well, last thing I'd want is to be another source of frustration for Cass fans. Lord knows there's enough of those to go around.

mousebrass also asked: On that note, how do you imagine a meeting between Cass and the Shadow going?

Fair warning: This one took me 6 hours to write, and it became a hell of a lot longer than I imagined. I liked Cass a lot, but I never quite realized I had this many feelings regarding her until I was tasked with writing this, and a lot of things clicked for me regarding my plans for The Shadow thanks to this ask. @mousebrass, thank you. I mean it. I think I may have found something here I've spent years looking for. Hope you enjoy the post.

I'm thankful that this scenario is only really taking place in a hypothetical fanon where both characters can get a fair shot, because I wouldn't trust DC with this premise. I don't trust DC with either of them as is.

There's a lot of ways that this crossover could go on about taking place naturally, initially because Cass is already connected to some of Batman's pulpier elements, due to her connections to Lady Shiva and the League of Assassins, and one could connect Cass to Myra Reldon (who really should just be race swapped if ever brought back so she can stand out as the cool character she is, without the yellowface gimmick holding her back). There's two things I think are crucial to making the most of this idea, and the first of which has to do with the subject of killing. I usually don't like to come up with hypothetical team-ups for The Shadow that focus too much on the fact that he kills, because it's far from the most significant aspect of his character to focus on, much of it is written from a wrong understanding of the character, and it never amounts to anything other than perfunctory. But here, not only is it completely unavoidable to discuss, here there is actually a very, very substantial grounding as to why this has to be such a big part of the story.

The first and foremost thing that's gotta be established to everyone reading that doesn't know already is this: Cassandra Cain, more so than Batman, more so than any other DCU hero, has a tolerance towards murder lower than zero, and this is completely non-negotiable. She will throw herself on the path of an assault rifle to stop men trying to kill her from accidentally killing each other. The defining moment of her incredibly grim backstory is that she was trained from birth to be the world's greatest murderer, and her first kill traumatized her so badly that she has pivoted as far away from that as possible. I stress a lot that the Shadow should not be written as the trigger-happy maniac comics made him into and that the pulp version killed mostly to defend himself and others, generally left criminals to the police if possible, offered plenty of second-chances, had stories dedicated to the rehabilitation of criminals and so on, but none of this would matter to Cass.

Cass has literally chosen suicide over the prospect of living with murder on her hands time and time again, and The Shadow kills. When he kills, he does so without remorse, with unshakeable certainty. He hates death, he doesn't want lives to be at risk in the first place. But people will die if he doesn't do anything, and what he can do, what he exists to do, is turn the tools of evil against evil, and murder is the oldest tool of evil there is. He doesn't kill because a war scarred him, he doesn't kill because he's got a demon in his soul, he doesn't kill because he's mentally off balance, he doesn't kill because he's evil or sadistic or arrogant or anything of the sort. He kills because the men he fights chose death when they sought to harm innocents and fire guns at him. He kills because he is Death itself.

Regardless of how compassionate he is or can be, regardless of the fact that he's motivated by a desire to protect people, regardless of how justified he is, he is still dropping corpses and laughing maniacally doing so. Cass's real arch-enemy isn't Shiva or David Cain, it's Death, it's the thing that she's fundamentally most opposed to. And guess what The Shadow gets compared to often enough? Literally the very first line of the very first book where we get to see him, this is how we are introduced to him:

So the premise here is that we are taking a character who is defined by her fundamental opposition to death with every fiber of her being, who understands death on a level no other human being does, who is traumatized and hard-wired to detest death at all costs and to choose suicide over it, and asking her to team up with The Grim Reaper.

Even if he received the most abject lesson conceivable on the sheer wrongness of murder, even if he does put down the guns around Cass out of respect for her, he cannot protect his agents and others if he cannot shoot or kill those who try to harm them, and the protection of the agents is absolutely non-negotiable and not at all something he's willing to fuck around with by trying out gadget kung fu superhero alternatives. The Shadow has chosen to throw his life away for their sake time and time again, and no matter how appaling or disgusting Cass finds his deeds, even if he concedes that she's right and should be right on all accounts and that he is fundamentally a monster who has no right to judge others, he would not concede on his mission and he would make it very clear she would have to put him down violently to stop him from protecting others this way, and death has not stopped him before.

And to be upfront in case there's anyone who doubts it, Cass would kick The Shadow's ass, if they had to fight. She is the strongest fighter in the DCU, she lives and breathes fighting and combat in a way no one else does. And The Shadow's not one of those characters who is supposed to be invincible and the best at everything all the time always, he can and does lose fights and scrapes to people far less adept at it than Cass. He's a great fighter, obviously, he hauls bigger men than him through doors and was disabling people with Vulcan neck pinches decades before Spock, and he would definitely have an edge in other areas, but he's out of his league here. Frankly, I don't see The Shadow raising a finger against Cass unless she's been brainwashed into killing people by bad writing. Not because she's a woman, that doesn't really stop him from dealing with evil. But because, for one, she's practically a child compared to him age-wise. Two, he'd obviously know beforehand of her capabilities and how futile it would be to fight or even provoke her. And three, the Shadow's whole thing is knowing. The Shadow Knows and all that. Knowing comes with understanding.

He'd understand very quickly that there is no way someone this young could grow so quickly into the world's greatest fighter without horrific treatment that no one should ever be subjected to. He'd see the movements too practiced and quick, the self-control, the strength and speed far beyond even the trained warriors he's seen, the places where she's been scarred and is good at covering it up. Assuming he doesn't already know about her life story, any meeting between the two would lead to him very quickly figuring out that there's something much deeper about her opposition to killing than just moral reservations, something deeper than Bruce's own gun trauma.

Denny O'Neil's 2nd Batman and Shadow story was about The Shadow secretly helping Bruce overcome gun trauma, and Bruce rejecting The Shadow's intentions to hand him a gun. And to make it clear, people tend to assume that The Shadow only helps people for utilitarian reasons, which is not true as I've tried to demonstrate many times now. I don't want to convey that he would want to help Cass overcome her trauma just so she could be more efficient or something, absolutely no, he'd help her because he helps people in any way he can. I think a story with The Shadow and Cass might involve a similar premise, The Shadow understanding that she has been traumatized very deeply by death and refuses to accept it on any terms, trying to help her overcome it, only to learn that she does not want to "learn" anything she doesn't already know, that she has weaponized her trauma into a source of strength, and wishes nothing more than to help others with it.

And here's where we get to the part that allows the two to be on less antagonistic terms, because one thing that also very strongly defines Cass, at least the Cass I like reading most, is her stubborn, almost desperate need to believe in the best of people, that people can and will change for the better. Like The Shadow, her strength too is knowing, it's perception, the things that she knows about people that words cannot convey. Just as there are many things The Shadow would grow to understand about her that others would not, there would be many things that The Shadow would not be able to conceal from her. Things that no one but her would figure out. Things that, despite her age and lack of experience compared to him, he would have to defer to her knowledge on, which reverses the usual dynamic The Shadow has with people. And perhaps one aspect of that reversal, it's that maybe it's she who winds up secretly manipulating The Shadow into overcoming a deeper issue.

Cass's perspective on killing is shaped not just through trauma, but from a painfully intimate understanding of not just what happens to someone at the time of death, but the cost of murder upon the human soul, the ways it warps people into things they never should have been. Killing is a deeply, deeply serious matter, much more so than fiction seems ever willing to go into. Of course we suspend disbelief for fiction, there's nothing wrong with that, but if a story starts asking questions, starts poking holes into fantasies, they should not be disregarded.

And so it begs a question: How has it affected The Shadow? Is he really as remorseless as he appears to be? Is the fact that he's only killing evil people really of that much use? What's the cost of living as someone who has to know so much about so much evil in so many hearts? Knowledge never comes without price, and knowing evil is his tagline. When he enlists Harry Vincent, he makes it very clear that he has lost lives as he has saved them. From when is that regret coming from? What lives did he lose then? Is he saving people by damning his soul or merely prolonging the inevitable by piling corpses on another end of the scale?

If there's a character that could meaningfully start bringing these questions forth, who could ever truly get The Shadow to stop and reveal things to the audience he never would otherwise, maybe Cass could be that character. A girl who was raised to be a monster, who is treated as a monster and an aberration in-universe (and even outside of it), and turned that into a strength she uses to help others, who cares about everyone and refuses to let others be dehumanized as she was. Who better to know what lurks in the Shadow's heart?

Sometimes when I get an ask, I bullshit my way through infodump walls of text until I can structure it into something vaguely resembling a point. And sometimes, and I know it sounds crazy, but sometimes I get a very, very clear word on my mind related to it before I start writing, that almost seems to be a beacon pointing where I need to get to, and I work my way into getting there. Once you sent me an ask about crossing over The Shadow with Cassandra Cain, the word that came to mind the very second was Language.

It's an interesting relation the two have with language. Language is of course a very substantial part of Cass's character, who does not process language and linguistic development the way most people do, and instead reads body language to the point of superpower. Many stories revolve around Cass's relation to the concept of language, the help she may require from others in getting around things beyond her upbringing, and ways in which she has mastered beyond anyone's scope. Though she is mute, language is her power, what makes her what she is, and she is someone that Batman freely admits could kick his ass if she ever felt like it.

For The Shadow, language is also his power. He speaks all languages and connects allies all over the world, he is an expert ventriloquist, he is able to project his voice beyond what's physically possible, he can imitate voices perfectly to the point of being able to conduct group conversations single-handedly well enough to fool even the people whose voices he's imitating, much of his presence and terror and manipulation are done through his voice, arguably the very reason he exists in the first place is entirely because a radio actor's voice performance was so good and captivating that it tricked people into thinking the character was a real star and not just a glorified narrator. The man you cannot see, but only hear, the perfect hero for radio. And then of course the laugh, which I have a whole separate post on and which, in many ways, acts as a substitute for language in the novels. He uses the laugh so often as a substitute for statements or words, even to himself, that it's pretty much his own personal language. And language is at the core of how he deals with people, as he knows the right language to use to manipulate and move and help them. He knows what to promise, what to reveal, what to omit. He knows what to say, how to say it, when to say it. Language is the strings by which he puppeteers the world around him (and he can talk to animals, at least of one kind).

The Shadow and Cassandra Cain have mastered two different types of Language as throughly as anyone can possibly master them. The Shadow can talk a group of hardened criminals into killing themselves, Cassandra can punch a heart into stopping without killing it. The Shadow echoes his voice "through everywhere and nowhere at once" to whip crowds of thugs into frenzies, Cassandra outraces missiles and was tanking bullets as a child. The Shadow can lie and usurp lives so masterfully to fool even the families of those he's passing off as, Cassandra is a living lie detector who gleams inner conversations from miniscule reactions. The Shadow can speak every language known, Cassandra is the greatest master of the world's most universal language other than music. The two are supposedly human, but every now and then, something comes along to call that into question because of the things they can achieve. They cannot hide secrets from each other the way they do to everyone else. They are driven by a deep desire to help others, to make something out of the circumstances of their lives. To weaponize that which dictates they should be evil and monstrous into a relentless force of good.

Language is the root of understanding. And if nothing else, as impossible as a conciliation of their approaches to crimefighting may be, I think there could be an unique understanding between the two. Perhaps, and this is a bit crazier a concept but one that seems to be where I might have been heading towards all along, even Cassandra Cain finding a calling away from the frayed dynamics of the Batfamily, away from the Bat's looming presence, to become The Shadow's successor, swearing to uphold a mission of justice through non-lethal tactics while he stays on the backseat guiding her. If The Shadow could trust the safety of his agents and the protection of the innocent at the hands of someone as capable and selfless and good-natured as Cassandra, I think he'd be all too happy to be able to trust someone in such a manner, to no longer be the Master of Darkness, but instead to serve the next generation that's weaponized darkness without submerging in it. To achieve, and perhaps return, to his strongest, highest self: A disembodied voice heard, but not seen. Once again the narrator, not the star.

It's a concept I've thought about very extensively for the years I've been a Shadow fan, but now it occurs to me that, if I had to appoint a successor of The Shadow, someone who could take up the mission but shine on their own right, even improve it with the right guidance and circumstances, it would be Cassandra Cain. The Orphan, The Shadow of the Batgirl. Daughter of the greatest assassins, meant to be the world's most lethal murderer, instead pivoted to being one of it's greatest heroes, but never allowed to shine as she should. But in the darker, less restrictive and wilder world of pulp heroes, in The Shadow's world, a beacon would shine all the harder. Perfect strengths attached to perfect opposites, joined together for a greater good, unstoppable after together having weaponized that which most take for granted: the power of language to move worlds.

#replies tag #pulp heroes #comic books #the shadow #cassandra cain #batgirl #i always had a feeling that a successor to the shadow should not be modeled on batman but someone within that range #i never quite found a character i would be happy with taking that role or a similar role #aw shit i just talked myself into a new favorite character #that just so happens to be another character brimming with potential that's denied them by corporate overlords #who could have seen that coming

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felassan · 4 years ago

Photo

Dragon Age II and Dragon Age: Inquisition concept art & assets from a 2016 talk/presentation by Matt Rhodes, titled “The World of Concept Art” [watch link & source]

It’s an interesting and insightful talk which I recommend watching, especially if you have an interest in concept art and related things like character design and how it fits into the overall game dev process. It’s also interesting to see a bit about how the DA team’s art direction/process has changed over time between games, and hear a bit about how they’ve been doing things going forwards for the next game.

This is Part 1. [Link to Part 2]

(Some notes on the commentary given on the images and in general in the presentation under the cut due to length.)

On image 2: DAII had a fast, hot production period where decisions were made very quickly. The devs knew that the central hub, Kirkwall, had been a center of an old slavery-based empire in the past, and wanted to have indications of this [in its art direction]. There were going to be giant statues that the PC eventually fought - on the right is the design for the statues as they originally were. In the top left, this is all they had for the location [owing to the intensive prod period]. They also had a general idea that they wanted to have tableaus that came to life, shown in the bottom left.

On image 3: Going back to the design of the giant statues, the beautiful golden clockwork version of the design doesn’t really say ‘tool of an ancient slavery-based empire’, so they took the model and tried to come up with something that had more of the kinds of shapes that get into the back of your head and say things like ‘aggressive, hard, simple’.

On image 4: So here they had started doing concepts trying to find some of the right poses, accessories etc that these things would have. One of the hearts of the internal ‘DA art [direction] codex’ is “gray and pointy”; if they give a concept like this to [then] Art Director Matthew Goldman he instinctively wants to go “Yes! Approve!”, and so has to kind of reign himself in a little bit.

On image 5: This is where they ended up getting to and how the concept art turned out in terms of the model, with some negotiation back and forth. This is an example of how their art direction process now tries to tell a story with the art (i.e. it tries to support the story through art aspects of the setting and the environment). Historically, they would have just thrown the French-looking, Baroque clockwork version of the statue into the game and gone with it. They are getting more and more intentional with this sort of thing.

On this image: This was an internal image made for internal discussion. The characters in it aren’t ones that exist or that became other characters, with the exception of the Warden, who kind of became Blackwall. In this image, they were trying to think about visual separation among members of a group at the most basic level (simple graphic design principles, like different shapes and colors). This image is part of trying to solve the design problem of having 4 different characters on-screen in the party at once in their games - as in, players of course need to be able to easily tell who is doing what and where.

A general comment: At BioWare, the concept artists nowadays involve themselves in the character design process much earlier than they used to. Historically, as in earlier games, the writers would write up a bunch of characters and then concept artists would be brought in to draw them. Through negotiation and back-and-forth they would then come up with something. Nowadays though, the concept artists are involved from Day 1. The writers now write down 2 words to describe a character and the artists do sketches based on that. The writers then will write a sentence and the artists will do more drawings based on that. Then it progresses to a paragraph and drawings based on that and so on. In this way it goes back and forth and they build it up so that the visual aspects and the writeup/content of the character are developed completely in tandem, complimentary to one another. This is their goal. They aren’t quite there yet, but this is what they’re trying to strive for in this area.

On image 6: These are Dorian concepts. His initial 2-word writeup was “rockstar mage”. They had different artists take different swings at him. The middle concept is Matt’s. The third concept is by Casper Konefal. Everyone was very excited about it and so it was then taken up to a more final stage (image 7).

On image 8: Casper is one of Matt’s favorite concept artists because he goes in and lovingly details absolutely everything - all the pieces of jewelry etc. Each ring has a story. This attention and level of detail and thought behind it adds authenticity and verisimilitude.

On image 9: In game development, there is an effect on character design that can happen during review meetings. The concept/character artist will know what they need visually from a particular character’s design in order to visually tell the story and to help the character support that. Oftentimes, people who aren��t artists don’t have the language to describe this or realize that’s what’s going on in a character’s design, and instead they just see imperfections in the presented faces. What this can lead to is that unintentionally a group review meeting can slowly trim away all the features of a character that make them interesting or distinct. This is why, for many characters across the game industry, if they were shaved and had their facial decorations etc removed, it would be kind of hard to tell many of them apart, as they have all been subjected to this sort of “council sandblasting” process. Casper figured out an idea to help with this; annotating concept drawings with artistic knowledge that artists know intuitively, as has been done here. Artists know, for instance, that certain shapes and angles can allow for certain assumptions about the character to be made (for example, think about Cassandra’s personality and then consider the angular, straight strong lines that make up her face). Annotating like this and then presenting both versions alongside one another helps these aspects of character design be recognized in the review process, and helps characters remain more distinct.

On image 10: They knew that in DAI there was going to be a character who would be with the PC for the whole game - the humble little hermit, non-intrusive, someone quite closed off who the player wouldn’t know much about. “[quote] And at the very end of the game you’d basically find out that he’s Loki himself, or the embodiment of this ancient god that had been tricking you and basically manipulating you the whole time, characterized by a wolf.” And so Nick Thornborrow hung a wolf’s jaw bone off his neck and it was just there in plain sight the whole game. Because this detail was in the drawings at an early stage, it sparked conversations with the audio department, and the audio department could add touches from their end like having wolves howling when he walked into a new area. They could then get all of these different elements and things that could be hinted at, so that when you play the game a second time it’s like ‘They weren’t even hiding it!! It was there the whole time!!’ He loves that.

A general comment: Any one of BioWare’s 3D modelled characters standing in-game talking or animating probably ends up costing them something in the 40,000 - 60,000 dollar range (they calculated this).

A general comment: For DAI, the concept artists also started to get heavily involved in the storytelling side of things at a deeper level, doing things like quick’n’dirty storyboards for the cinematic designers and spending more time with the writers talking about what emotions they were trying to convey at different points and so forth. Since starting doing this, this has become a built-in part of their process.

A comment in the context of giving advice to up-and-coming and student artists, on the subject of how concepts and ideas are naturally thrown out during the process of iterating on ideas etc: “[quote] Right now, the project that I’m working on that I can’t talk about, I have 3 versions of the story in the garbage, and it’s awesome. Because now I’m working on the fourth with our lead writer and it’s so much better than it would have been otherwise and we’re doing it so much earlier so that we can actually change things up.” Said project could be DA4 or something else. (Please remember these comments were made in November 2016. MEA came out in 2017 and DA4 has been rebooted)

[source]

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #dragon age #bioware #solas #cole #cassandra pentaghast #slavery cw #spirit boy #my lady paladin #long post #longpost #da4 tag for the insight into post-DAI era art direction/design process #& for the reference to the project which may or may not be da4 #highlights compiled in case the talk as-is isn't accessible to someone

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haruno-sakura-san · 4 years ago

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So I'm playing around with this idea for a Fic I'm writing called Altered. I'm just trying to get some thoughts down about it. Let me know what you think.

Shikamaru

Tsunade died quickly and painlessly one morning before her retirement. Shikamaru was sure it was the punch line of some cosmic joke at her expense. He wouldn’t be surprised in 20 years he was the butt of a similar one. Both of them hated the job and both worked tirelessly forward. So he supposed it just couldn’t be helped.

The funeral was huge. Kage and shinobi from all villages came to pay respects to the woman who saved the lives of thousands in the war and who’s leadership had come to bring together all the shinobi nations in peace. Each Kage made a speech that was some variant of this narrative, standing in a noble line to the side of her portrait, large enough for the entire gathering to see. On the end, flanking Kakashi, was the only non-hokage, Sakura.

Her frame was small. Smaller than most of the Kage lined beside her, but it was sturdy and unshakable to Shikamaru’s surprise. She wasn’t crying. So often he’d seen Sakura break down, over teammates and Sasuke and strangers, but now of all times her face was dry. She looked strong, respectful, at peace. A mirror of Tsunade’s portrait on display. The perfect apprentice.

“Wasn’t she the one that found her?” Temari asked. She’d followed his gaze to Sakura’s form.

“Ah,” he affirmed, not sure what else to say.

“Must have sucked,” Temari said, and for some reason this made Shikamaru a little irritated.

Sucked. Sucked? Shikamaru knew first hand how much it sucked seeing your teacher die in front of you and having no way to stop. Sucked didn’t even begin to describe it.

Sakura had worn that face when she’d marched into the Hokage’s office, like it was any other day. She didn’t look dazed or broken, but she wasn’t smiling her normal cheery smile.

This was the only clue she’d give as she squared off in front of Kakashi’s desk and said plain as day, “Tsunade passed away this morning. We should begin making arrangements before word gets too far.”

Both him and Kakashi froze.

“Mah, Sakura. That’s not a very funny joke so early in the morning,” Kakashi recovered more quickly than he had.

“It's not early. Its noon. It's not a joke.” She didn’t snap and this shook Shikamaru more than if she’d stormed across the room and slapped her Hokage across the face. Normally she’d snap. But this was just a tired statement of fact after fact.

“How did it happen?” Shikamaru asked, still in shock. He remembered Tsunade barreling in just a few days ago, informing, not requesting, her leave from the hospital for retirement. Kami knows I’ve earned it.

Sakura’s clear gaze turned on him and he felt the weight of his body acutely. Maybe it was that lack of smile.

“A heart attack. It was quick. She was gone before she could feel any pain.”

Kakashi swiveled in his chair, peering out the window at the cloudless blue sky. Not appropriate weather for news like this.

“I see.” Is all he said. Processing, Shikamaru guessed. “Didn’t even get a chance to retire.”

Shikamaru stifled the dry, ironic laugh itching at his throat. Or maybe he just needed a cigarette.

“No,” was all Sakura said.

“Who else knows?” Kakashi now all business.

“Just me and a nurse I trust to stay quiet until an announcement is made.”

Shikamaru felt the floor warp a little. “You were there when it happened?”

This time she did smile. Yeah, isn’t that just the darnedest thing? “Yes. I did everything I could to save her, but there was nothing I could do.”

He knew she wishes there would have been.

“Where is the body” Kakashi asked. Shikamaru winced. The body. Such a careless way to say it.

“It's already been taken care of.” Sakura lowered her eyes to a knot in the wood flooring.

Kakashi let out a weary breath and Shikamaru could tell he wished it wouldn’t have been Sakura taking care of it.

“Sakura,” Kakashi still looked out the window, “We can take this from here. Take some time off and see one of the counselors or be with your friends.”

“With all due respect, there much to be done at the hospital with Tsunade’s departure. I’ll continue working, Hokage-sama.” She bowed stiffly, the Tsunade’s departure hanging in the air. Departure, like she’d just left for retirement and that was that. Shikamaru wondered if that’s what Sakura was thinking. Just that she’d left like planned and she was supposed to carry on. The good little apprentice.

A long moment passed. A battle of wills.

“No,” Kakashi finally said. “You need time to grieve.”

Finally, some of the fire comes out in Sakura. “So do you, but you’re not taking time off, are you? We both have jobs to do here – important jobs - and I’m not going to sit on my ass eating icecream and crying into teddy bears while her hospital goes to shit -”

“Sakura this is not negotiable.”

“I’m fine.” And she does sound fine. “I. Am. Fine.”

They exchange a look loaded with history Shikamaru isn’t privy to. He watches for a moment, then two, wishing he could shrink away and become shadow.

“Thank you,” Sakura says tightly and walks out of the room. If Kakashi gave any sign he assented, Shikamaru didn’t catch it.

“Was it really a heart attack?” Temari says in the present. Shikamaru blinks twice, extracting himself from the memory.

“Ah,” he grunts in confirmation, wishing she’d drop it.

“Seems like it’d take more than that to take her out.” Temari speculates. Again, he’s irritated by her casual tone over the matter. “I mean, she was literally blown apart in the war and she still survived that. The woman was tough as they come. Seems like a little heart attack –,”

“Drop it.” Shikamaru barks, surprising himself. He’s not one to ever take a tone with her, not one to lose control over anything. But the past week has done something to him though, dredged up old memories of Asuma lying still and cold and it frays him at the edges.

Temari opens her mouth to snap back, ever strong-headed, but he interrupts, eyes turning toward Sakura’s steady form, his mind flashing between now and then.

“If Sakura says that’s what happened. That’s what happened.” It's too much trouble to think further than that. So he believes it. He has to. “She did everything she could, so just drop it.”

For now, she does. But he’d be an idiot to think the discussion was completely over.

Sakura

Tsunade was dead. Her teacher was dead. The teacher that believed in her and saw in her what Kakashi and all the rest hadn’t was dead. And she’d just walked into Kakashi’s office and lied through her teeth about every single part of it.

Tsunade didn’t die quickly and painlessly. It took several minutes for her spirit to finally untangle from her body and move on. Sakura watched it all happen.

It did happen suddenly. One breath she’d been discussing retirement plans then next – well. Sakura’s stomach turned. She hurried into the ladies' room and hurled her coffee up.

It’d been horrible. Nothing like Sakura had ever seen. And when it was over, nothing remained of the teacher she knew and loved. The image of Tsunade old, shriveled, blackened – Sakura dry heaves into the toilet again - wrong. So, so wrong and it wasn’t supposed to have happened like that. Sakura presses her forehead into the cool rim of the toilet, not caring how dirty might be. She deserved it. Tsunade didn’t.

Knowing how vain her teacher had been, she’d taken care of it. All of it. So that her teacher would have the dignified death she deserved. She had destroyed any evidence of the truth all on her own. And Sakura would carry it, her secret, until her dying breath.

#potentially a fic #sakura #shikamaru #shikasaku #eventually #but mostly mystery

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angstsfordays · 4 years ago

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Beautiful Pain (8)

Chapter Eight- It Starts Today

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.

Chapter synopsis: You aren’t sure how to move on from the aftermath of Latvia. Was it time for you to confront your feelings for Bucky or would you retreat back, pretending as if nothing ever happened?

Warnings: Fluffiness. Slow-burn but we're getting there! Perhaps some tear-inducing moments! 😭

Word count: 61k

Notes: Hi! I’m back after my assignment submission. Currently on a short break before an exam is due in 2 weeks. Ever since the series ended, not gonna lie I was a little unmotivated to write. However, I didn’t want to let down all those who have supported this series so far.

Hope you enjoy this chapter! 🥰 Btw, I legit bawled my eyes writing the last part! 🥲

Please give support by leaving likes, comments or helping to reblogs! Thank you! 🙏🏼

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“I’m surprised you’re still here. Figured you would be resting at home after what had happened.” Melissa, the manager of the social service centre you work for came by your desk.

“Sorry, I took urgent leave.” Looking up from the backlog of paperwork that had accumulated, you gave a sheepish smile at how much you had to get done. Melissa leaned her weight on the side of your desk and glanced down to your tired eyes.

“It’s fine, Y/N. But I don’t know if diving back into work is really the best for you now. ” You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Pinching the bridge of your nose, your eyes opened to see Melissa looking down at you in concern.

You were grateful for her check-in. Despite your so-called Avengers status, she never treated you like you were special. You still recalled the day where you stepped into her office for an interview for an open position on her team. The shell-shocked expression she had when she recognised who had decided to show up for a job interview in her office on a Tuesday morning was priceless.

“I don’t understand. Why would you be applying for a regular job here? I would expect you to continue your superhero career?”

Melissa asked with a hint of doubt before looking through your resume. Tactical negotiation skills do seem like an asset they could really use here in social work….

“There’s no more Avengers now…. Besides, I’m tired of fighting and I’m ready to do something else. I like to believe the real heroic work lies in our community.”

Your response took Melissa by surprise, in a good way of course. There was no hint of superiority that you exuded. What she saw in front of her was a woman who seemed earnest to do good work for her community.

“Any other things you would like to add on to show how you can contribute to the team?” Melissa looked at you in a renewed light and she inwardly smiled at the sight of you deep in thought to find an interesting response like any other nervous interviewee.

“I’m basically a human heater. I could step up to help if the electrical heater is not working in the winter?” The expression you had on your face after giving your reply made Melissa chuckled out loud. You inwardly cringed at your seemingly lame response but eased up when you see Melissa breaking out into a laugh.

“Perfect. Welcome to the team, Y/N.” Melissa extended her hand towards you and yours eagerly reached out to return the gesture.

Working with the social service centre here in New York had been great. You had finally found renewed passion in your life after the events of the Blip and the loss of your friends.

Everyone at the office made up a close-knitted family-like working environment and it was an added bonus that Melissa was an amazing boss too and became an unexpected confidant of yours. You felt like you finally found your place once again.

“Work keeps my mind busy. I much rather be busy than being left alone to my thoughts.” You were referring to your own overthinking with the whole Bucky situation. It had only been a few days since you returned back from Latvia, but it felt painfully long.

Melissa looked over you once more in concern. She knew that you were more than willing to share your thoughts openly with her as you two have established a close friendship outside of work for the past few months. However, she knew that they were still some things that you kept to yourself in private.

While you always maintained an optimistic front, she knew that you were only human and susceptible to darker and deeper emotions especially after all you had been through.

“Hey, Joey is making a coffee run at that new coffee place around the block. They’re having a 1 for 1 coffee deal today. You want your usual?” Nodding gratefully, Melissa gave your shoulder a light squeeze before moving off.

You swivelled your office chair back to face your laptop. The words on the screen didn’t seem to focus as your mind was clouded with the recollection of what had happened after witnessing John did the unthinkable.

What he did back in Latvia had become international news the very same day, the amount of scrutiny and support for him were head-to-head on the internet. The news on television ever since you returned home had been covering it day and night. As you recalled back the order of events that happened back in Latvia, you could feel an invisible weight in your mind and heart.

Sam and Bucky went to find John while you tried to manage the aftermath of everything that had happened. You helped to settle things with Lemar and assisted in the reports that had to be accounted back to the authorities back in the states.

When Sam and Bucky returned back to find you, they filled you in on what happened and you learnt that they had to forcibly take back the shield from John. It was too dangerous to even let John have the shield anymore, given what he had done to Nico. You were sure that it must not have been an easy fight as you recalled the bruises on each man’s face.

The three of you had another meeting once everything was settled. You were disgruntled to learn that Karli and her group were once again on the run and you were all sure that she would now make sure that she’s impossible to be found.

Looking back and forth between your two boys who found themselves at a standstill, you quietly figured that this was the end of the mission regarding Karli. Even if it was for a brief moment, you felt happy to have worked with them. It almost felt like a sense of normalcy as you worked as a team again.

The reality was that you knew Sam and Bucky still had a strict working relationship and you ever wondered if there was a chance for all three of you to work together again as the Avengers. Preparing yourself for the disappointment, you silently watched as your boys exchanged silent looks once more.

“I guess this is goodbye.” You first spoke up amidst the silence. Both men looked up in surprise when you decided to voice out the reality of the situation. You walked over to Sam to give him a goodbye hug and lingered for a moment as he gave you a couple of pats on your back.

“You take care, alright? You know you can reach out to me anytime.” Sam assured you to which you returned a grateful smile.

“Of course, see you soon hopefully.”

As you pulled away from Sam, you turned to see Bucky standing with an unreadable expression on his face. Walking gingerly towards him, you wiped off the non-existent palm sweat on the side of your pants as your heartbeat started to pick up.

“Hey.” It was just one word but you felt yourself choking to utter it out. You weren’t sure how to face Bucky especially from whatever happened back with Karli.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to address the elephant in the room but you figured that you could brush it under the rug if it didn’t seem like Bucky was intending to talk about it too. There was a brief awkward silence before you decided to break it.

“I know you still have unfinished business” Bucky’s eyes glanced off to the side and then to the ground before they met yours. Bucky was not surprised that you understood him so well. Yes, he had unfinished business with Zemo and he needed to follow through with it.

However, he also wanted to badly talk things out with you. Many revelations had come to light unexpectedly from one event to another and he wanted clarity.

“You wanna come?” Giving a brief smile at his invite, you considered it for a brief second. After everything that happened from Germany to Madripoor and to Latvia, you believed you needed to take a step back.

You would have never thought that your deep-seated feelings for Bucky would ever come to light, and it was in the worst-case scenario imagined.

What should have been a private and intimate revelation had turned out otherwise. Karli had inadvertently outed you and you were forced to confront your feelings for Bucky before you were even ready.

As much you wanted to talk things out with Bucky, it was not the right timing. Not with Zemo still out there roaming freely. Unfortunately, work needed to come first in this situation and you had to let it take priority over your heart.

Immediately as you shook your head, you could see the puzzled expression painted on Bucky’s face. He did not expect your response as he figured you would have been more than willing to accompany him.

“You don’t need me, Buck.” You were wrong, Bucky thought. Yes, he could handle Zemo on his own but he wanted nothing more than to have you by his side especially since he had learnt of your deeper feelings for him. He didn’t want to let you leave just yet.

Wrapping your arms behind his neck, you pulled Bucky slightly down in an embrace before placing a short peck on his lips. “See you around, Buck.”

“Change of plans, Sam. Mind if I head back with you?” Seeing you turning your back to walk back to Sam, Bucky could feel a sense of disappointment and hurt washing over him. Tuning out Torres’ comments, Bucky stalked out of the door.

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It was not difficult to figure out where Zemo would have escaped to. As the memorial statue to commemorate those who had fallen in the events of Ultron came into sight, Bucky’s fingers clenched tighter around the gun he had been holding.

“I thought you would be here sooner. Don’t worry, I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you-” Zemo could see Bucky in his peripheral line of sight.

“Imagine my relief.” Bucky returned sarcastically. Zemo turned to meet Bucky before he continued to speak.

“Or your pretty friend.” A small smirk formed on Zemo’s face as he sees Bucky clicked the gun in his hand with a hardened look.

“You touch her and I would end you right here.” It was almost satisfying to get a rile out of Bucky and Zemo knew you were his weak point.

He scoffed at how it was clear as day to everyone that you two had something deeper beyond friendship or camaraderie. And yet, the two of you chose to never address it.

Zemo then went on to talk about how Karli was beyond redemption and that warning Sam had been a futile attempt. He believed Bucky had the will to actually do what’s necessary, given that he was indeed programmed to kill.

Bucky was seething with silent rage. He was not a killer anymore. Zemo’s mere insinuation only served to remind him how people never changed their perspective on him. Bucky responded that he would figure out a way that didn’t pander to Zemo’s drastic methods.

Raising his right arm, the gun was pointed towards Zemo. The rush of emotions overcame Bucky as he thought about how Zemo made his life hell, accusing him of a crime he didn’t commit.

Despite some truths to his words, Zemo was relentless and pragmatic in achieving his goals and he was deemed too dangerous to be left unattended.

Gripping the gun tightly, Bucky cocked back the trigger and let it go. Zemo accepted his fate, knowing he had done Bucky wrong. The sound that followed next was not as deafening as the silence that followed next. Zemo then realised Bucky had indeed managed to move on from his past and did not succumb to his darker desires to kill him.

Bucky watched on as the Dora Milajae came to escort Zemo, with plans to take him to the raft where he would face imprisonment for the rest of his life.

Ayo came up to Bucky’s and advised him that it would be best if he avoids coming back to Wakanda for the time being. Bucky agreed that it was fair.

“Give my regards to Y/N.” Bucky nodded once more at Ayo’s words, however, the masked expression on his face did not go unnoticed by the Dora Milajae’s second in command.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, uhm-nothing. It’s fine.” Ayo gave Bucky a knowing glance before bidding him goodbye.

“Hey, I might have another favour to ask of you.”

-------------------------//---------------------------

Sam: How have you been doing?

Y/N: Alright…I’m busy with work. :)

Sam: Have you spoken with Bucky?

Y/N: Not really, I know he’s probably finishing up business in Sokovia.

Sam: Shouldn’t he be back home by now?

Y/N: To be honest, I’m not sure. I haven’t reached out and he didn’t contact me either.

Sam: Hey, are you alright?

Y/N: Honestly….no…I thought I could distract myself with work but my mind has never been rested ever since Latvia.

Y/N: I don’t know how to face him after what went down. Just wanna bury me in a deep hole or maybe get snapped again. Hmmm….

Sam: Girl, have you gone mad?

Y/N: Maybe

Sam: Hey, why not come over to my place for the weekend? You can finally meet Sarah and the boys.

Y/N: Oh no, Sam. I could never intrude.

Sam: What are you talking about? I invited you!

Y/N: ……….

Sam: Come on! Hey, you ever been on a fishing boat before?

Y/N: Not that I could recall of….

Sam: Then that’s perfect! Come check out my family’s boat, although it’s not in the best shape. Been trying to spruce it up and get it back to its former glory….

Y/N: Alright, dad.

Sam: Hey, watch your manners.

Y/N: HAHAHA ;) See you soon!

-------------------------//---------------------------

You were pumped to head down to Sam’s hometown for the weekend. It was long overdue after hearing about them so much.

Adjusting the strap of your duffle bag, you gingerly walked to the front door and gave a few knocks. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears, you fidgeted on your toes, hoping that you would be able to make a good first impression.

When the door opened, your eyes first looked to see no one until you averted them down. You saw a young boy with glasses looking up at you with curious eyes. Mustering your best smile, you let out a warm greeting. “Hi!”

“Who’s that AJ?” You heard a woman’s voice calling after the boy in front of you.

“Mum, there’s an Avenger at the door!” The boy hollered back before running back into the house. You weren’t sure what to do next so you remained where you stood. Within a matter of seconds, the woman you had heard about so much appeared right in front of your sight.

“Oh, hi! You must be Y/N.”

“Er-yes, I am!” You returned enthusiastically and Sarah, as she introduced herself ushered you into the door. Your eyes roamed around the homey and cosy décor that filled the Wilson home.

“I didn’t expect you to show up so early! Have you eaten?” Nodding in response, Sarah pointed out to where you could put your bag down and went back to hustling in the kitchen. You told her you already had a quick bite before coming over and she looked at you with a pleasing smile.

“Sam’s actually at the dock right now,” Sarah informed you and you blanched at the thought of being by yourself without Sam to be a buffer for your first meeting with his family. However, your worries were for nothing as Sarah welcomed you warmly.

“Don’t worry, you can join me, I’m heading over too.” Her friendly demeanour eased your initial nervousness and you nodded eagerly in response.

As you and Sarah made your way over to the docks, the two of you fell into easy conversation. You learnt from her that she was struggling to keep the family business afloat and how they couldn’t even manage to get a loan from the bank.

Nevertheless, Sam was determined and managed to call in favours from their close-knitted community to chip in some help. A sudden wave of guilt washed over you when you realised that Sam had been facing real problems of his own and that you weren’t aware of it to help.

You had wished that you had been a better friend. Being the kind soul she was, Sarah dismissed your negative thoughts and reassured you that it was alright. From what Sam had spoken of you, she was eager to meet you herself.

“Sam says you always have his back when you are all out there in all the action.”

“Of course, we are a team. Sam’s a great person so it’s not hard to be there for him when he needs it.” Hearing your answer had Sarah throw a grateful smile your way. She was glad that Sam had someone he could trust while he’s out fighting the threats of the world.

As you two approached a medium-sized boat, you could make out the figure of Sam from a distance. You were excited to run up to greet him but it was the second figure on the boat that you stopped in your tracks.

A high-pitch whistle suddenly burst into your eardrums and you realised one of the pipes from the boat was loose. You saw Bucky heading down to help Sam and you gulped nervously as you continued to watch the scene happening in front of you.

You were definitely not expecting to see Bucky here in Louisiana. Why was he even here? Your eyes moved to see Sarah moving closer to where the men stood and Bucky introduced himself with a charming smile.

Sarah returned his greeting politely and looked over to Sam. “Hey, Sam! Look who I brought.”

Back turned, you were hoping to escape unnoticed, yet you were too slow as you heard Sam calling out for you.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Slowly turning your back, you were greeted by the sight of Sam and Bucky looking with equally confused expressions on their faces.

Not knowing what to say, your eyes blinked far more than times than normal as you tried to straighten up and looked convincing. “Toilet?” You muttered out hesitantly. Sam was not convinced at all as one of his brows was raised in question.

“You came all the way to my hometown, the least you could do is say hi first.” Grimacing and giving a sorry look, you made your way to the boat and Sam helped you down.

“Hey, Sam. Thanks for inviting me.” You spoke as you gave him a hug in greeting. Bucky was surprised, to say the least. He was only stopping by to drop a package for Sam but he never expected to see you here.

He had trouble reaching out to you, crafting messages every other hour and deleting them before deciding to not contact you at all. He was wondering if you were still mad at him from when he last saw you in Latvia.

“Wait, what are you doing here, Y/N?”

“Sam invited me to come to stay with his family for the weekend, like a getaway.” Meeting Bucky’s bright eyes always did something to your guts. Your breath hitched at how he could so simply beautiful with the sea view set against his back.

“Or more like I want to introduce you to my family and planned a surprise proposal so that we can be engaged by the end of the week.” Sam’s arm landed with a slight thud around your shoulders. You turned to see him wiggling his brows and donning a mischievous smile.

Eyes widening once you processed his words, you can’t help a chuckle as you knew that Sam was trying to crack a witty joke to mess with Bucky. Bucky looked like he was about to actually combust and kill Sam with his fiercest glare.

“Oh Sam, what a way to ruin the surprise. I expected you to be more romantic.” You quipped back to play along to his shenanigans. Sam ruffled your hair endearingly before looking to Bucky who didn’t seem one bit amused.

“Woah, I’m just kidding. Would you look at his face? Man, I got you good.” A wide smile broke out on Sam’s face before he started cackling.

“That’s not funny.” Buck look to the side and gave out a short sigh of relief. He looked back at you with an unreadable expression. Sensing the tension in the atmosphere, Sam believed it was time to leave you two alone.

“Remember to thank me later,” Sam whispered into your ear before giving you a pat on your shoulder. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him walking off to the other end of the boat.

Bucky still continued to stand at his spot and you took the first step towards him. He was still silent and giving you an infamous brooding stare. Bringing two fingers to the corner of his lips, you gently lifted each side up to force Bucky into a smile.

“You are going to look physically 106 for real if you continue to frown like that.” You teased Bucky in hopes that he could ease up.

“Blame Sam.” He huffed like a little child who got nagged by his mother.

“Sam was just joking. You know that.” You removed your fingers from his cheeks and Bucky immediately missed the touch that you gave.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Give me a smile.” Seeing your doe eyes looking at him adorably, Bucky felt his icy exterior melting. Pretending to clear his throat, he looked to the side before facing you with a tight but warm smile. His smile widened when he saw you returning a big grin.

For a moment, it didn’t feel like what happened in Latvia had crossed both of your minds. It was just back to the way things had been before. It was safe and comfortable. But was it what you really wanted?

Were you just going to ignore your feelings for Bucky forever?

“Are you two continuing to get lost in each other’s eyes?” Sam’s holler snapped you and Bucky out of your moment. The two of you awkwardly shifted before heading over to where Sam was. You both offered to help Sam on his family boat to speed things up.

It was a truly therapeutic afternoon for all three of you. Free from the world fighting and just hanging out as a bunch of friends (more so of your thought than the boys). The entire time, Bucky was subtlety (or not) flexing his strength as he took charge of most of the heavy work.

You could see the impressive looks from some of the community members that walked past and you smirked at how Bucky was trying his best to look unbothered from the attention.

“My welding machine is broken when I managed to find it, sorry Sam.” One of the elders stopped by the boat to tell Sam and he reassured that it was fine. However, you could still see his worried expression.

“I guess it’s time for me to step up.” You exclaimed while putting down the sanding paper in your hands. You asked Sam to guide you to what needed to be welded together. Extending two fingers together to mimic a gun, you gathered flame-like energy and started to weld the pieces of metal together like it was nothing.

You didn’t realise you had attracted a small crowd as everyone gathered to see the woman who was shooting fire out of her fingertips. “That’s so cool!” A young boy yelled in excitement as he jumped up and down.

Once you’re done, you looked to see the several kids clapping fervently. You gave your best smile and threw in a two-finger salute their way.

“Seems like you have fans now,” Bucky remarked to which you smirked coyly. “What are you talking about? I always have fans.”

After everything was done for the day, Sam brought you all some cold beer to end things right. Clinking your bottles, you took a seat beside Sam as Bucky talked about how he needed to get a hotel for the night before catching his flight out tomorrow.

As he spoke, he looked over to you with an expecting look before he took another gulp of beer. Sam scoffed before convincing Bucky to stay for the night with his family. Bucky still awkwardly shifted as he tried to decline the offer.

You felt a slight jab in your waist and turned to see Sam nodding over to Bucky.

“Come on Bucky, I’m also imposing here too. Don’t leave me by myself.” Just when Bucky was sure that he would flat out refuse Sam, your words managed to bring him back. He chuckled at you giving a sad puppy look before he admitted defeat.

As the three of you returned to Sam’s house, you all washed up and got ready for dinner that Sarah prepared. You offered to help despite her insistence that you’re a guest. It was such a nice peaceful moment when all of you squeezed around the now seemingly small table now that you and Bucky joined in.

Nevertheless, dinner went well and the conversations were great. AJ and Cass heard from the kids in the neighbourhood about what you did and asked you to do a little demonstration before they got silenced by their mother.

“Are you like Uncle Sam’s girlfriend?” You choked on the water that you had just drunk and Sam who was beside you helped to pat your back down.

All attention went to little AJ who looked very serious in having his question answered. All the adults at the table didn’t know whether to laugh or panic at his seemingly innocent query.

Sarah handed you a napkin to wipe your face and you smiled gratefully. Bucky was experiencing a gnawing feeling. Sure, it was a kid asking an innocent question but it bothered him more than it should. His eyes averted to where you sat and he saw how you were trying to come up with a response.

“What makes you think so, kid?” Sam quipped in before extending an arm out to wrap around your shoulders. The spoon in Bucky’s hand was on the verge of being bent into half.

“I don’t know. You never bring a girl home.” AJ’s reasoning had you giggling at his adorable nature.

“Well, how about it babe? Should we tell them?” Sam looked at you with a smug look. You turned to see Bucky trying to look neutral but you knew his irritated look when you saw one.

“Sam….” You spoke in a warning tone before he snickered. Sam threw his hands up in defeat before turning back to his nephew to explain.

“Y/N’s a friend, she’s like a buddy to me.” Sam ruffled your hair before giving a pat on your head.

“You have someone you like, Auntie Y/N? Can I call you auntie?” Cass chimed into the conversation and your facial expression betrayed you before you couldn’t even pretend.

You sent a fleeting glance to a person with bright cerulean eyes before you cleared your throat and nodded to Cass.

“It’s a secret.” You spoke with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Finger raising up to your lips, you let out a small spark of energy which wowed the two young boys. You threw in an extra wink before you all resumed dinner.

The spoon in Bucky's hand was saved from being rendered useless. Letting out a relieved sigh, Bucky's heart started to pick up again as he thought about your response.

When would he able to catch you at the right time to talk?

-------------------------//---------------------------

AJ shared his room with his mum while Sam bunked in with Cass for the night. You took Sam’s room while Bucky took the couch downstairs. Sleep didn’t come easy for you that night and you decided to make your way down.

Once you were on the last step, you could see Bucky stretched out on the small couch. You made sure to be as quiet as possible before going to get a glass of water. Once you had your drink, you walked over and stopped a few feet short of where Bucky was.

The moonlight from the window added a beautiful glow onto him and you smiled at how he had a peaceful expression on his face as he slept.

Taking silent steps, you kneeled down near to where his head was. Seeing how he was letting out soft breaths, you believed that he was deep in a peaceful slumber.

You couldn't stop yourself from reaching out to brush the tips of his hair before sliding your fingers to stroke the apple of his cheeks. You smiled to yourself looking at the endearing sight in front of you.

Figuring you didn't want to stay on acting like a creep, you stood up and tucked yourself further into the warmth of your woolly cardigan.

You tiptoed to the front door and walked out to the lake by the Wilson house.

Breathing in the fresh air, you took in the beautiful night view and admired how the moon was reflected on the lake.

“Y/N.” Your eyes were closed and you wondered if you were hearing things. When your name was called a second time, you realised it wasn't just imagination anymore.

Letting out a shaky breath, you turned to see Bucky walking towards you with a nervous look. It dawned upon you that the inevitable moment had arrived. Now that you both had a temporary moment of peace from the non-stop fighting, you figured it was time to have the talk.

Standing face to face with Bucky, your gaze concentrated on the space beyond his shoulders. You weren’t sure how to face him in the eye yet.

It felt like minutes had passed before Bucky gathered up the courage to speak first. His hands were in his pockets as he looked down on the ground awkwardly.

“Did you mean everything? Every word you said to Karli back in Latvia.” Your eyes fluttered shut before looking back to see his intense blues peering back at you.

“Why would I lie?” You answered back in a whisper. Bucky nodded in understanding before continuing. “When did it start?”

“Remember Romania? We were at the farmer’s market and you were intensely deciding between the plums or tangerines. The poor owner thought you were getting pissed at him or something.”

“That’s what did it for you?” Bucky looked confused at your explanation. He thought it would have been some sentimental or romantic moment that you had realized your feelings for him.

“It’s cute. You’re cute.” You justified yourself nervously, murmuring the last part softly.

“Your definition of cute is weird.” He mumbled bashfully as he looked down to the ground in embarrassment. Shrugging your shoulders, you started to feel shy yourself.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You let out a hum and thought deeply before speaking.

“I didn’t want to give you something to worry about when you’re still unpacking from the Blip, Steve leaving and your pardon. I also know you had your amends….didnot felt like it was the right time. Never felt like there was ever a right time with all the crazy things happening around us.”

“To be honest Bucky, it might have been hard for me but I would have been okay to not say anything at all. Sometimes loving someone doesn’t mean you have to be with them. True love is when you just want that person to be happy.” When you realised you had used the word love, you bit your lips as if to hold your tongue.

You slapped a hand to your lips before turning your back on Bucky, grimacing at the fact that you went that far in your explanation.

Bucky felt an emotion that was indescribable in words as he processed what you had just said. He then realised that you had always been selfless for him even it meant that you disregarded yourself in the process. How could he ever deserve someone like you?

Placing his hands on your shoulder to turn you back, Bucky was a little surprised to find you tearing up. You quickly wiped them away and averted your eyes away from him. Cradling your face gently in both his hands, Bucky gently wiped away a few more tears that cascaded down.

He didn’t want to see you cry anymore. He realised seeing you like this has brought him greater pain than he could have imagined.

He was at a loss for words but Bucky knew what he wanted to do next. He leaned down to place his lips gently on yours and your hands went to rest on the spot where his neck and shoulders meet.

Bucky hummed when he felt you returning the kiss and slid his vibranium hand down to your waist to pull you closer. Putting all his feelings into the kiss, Bucky wanted to let you know what he truly felt.

He slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss. You let out a soft gasp at the surprise but it was not unwelcome. You had always imagined what it would be like to finally kiss him and it was even better than you had imagined. Your arms snaked behind his neck to pull him down while his hands roamed around your back to feel you closer.

The two of you eventually pulled away for a little air after kissing for what it seems like forever. Bucky’s thumb swiped your swollen lips before learning it for another kiss once more. “I don’t deserve you.” He muttered through his breath.

“Don’t ever say that. Stop thinking of yourself as being unloveable. Know that you're the most precious thing to me. I will go through hell and back for you, always.” You confessed with an absolute resolve before turning shy. Your eyes moved to your hands smoothing down the material of his shirt.

Hearing your confession made Bucky the happiest and luckiest man in the world. How was he able to find someone like you who loved him despite everything he was and had done.

There used to be someone like that for him. Yet, in the end, he left Bucky alone in this world. Looking down at how you were shyly avoiding his gaze, Bucky's heart tightened in a good way.

He kissed the crown of your head before pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug as if he didn’t believe this moment wasn’t real and didn’t want to let go.

Once you two pull apart, his arms were still wrapped around your waist while you held his arms. "I love you so much, doll. You're the best thing that's ever happened."

Looking up to meet Bucky's eyes with renewed confidence, you never want him to doubt your feelings for him. He had gone through so much and you just wanted to never make him feel like he's alone.

"I will always be here for you, Bucky. You are my person to love and protect for as long as I live."

Your words were simple yet they were backed by such powerful and sincere emotions. Before he knew it, tears started to well up in his eyes.

Bucky started sniffing as tears started falling down his cheeks uncontrollably.

You were surprised at the sudden turn of events and you went to wipe his tears away with your fingers.

You found yourself joining him in crying as well but you knew that they were happy tears. Bucky brought his forehead to rest on yours as the two of you both cried silently.

"You're my only person. I will love you forever." Bucky spoke quietly before he leaned in for another kiss.

The two of you didn't want to let the other go that night. Bucky suggested for him to crash Sam's room but you were sure that your friend would throw a fit the next day.

You tried to control the volume of your giggles as you squeezed to fit into the too-small couch for two. Both of your limbs were tangled messily and you both embraced each other tightly to prevent yourselves from falling down.

The rest of the night ended in endless exchanges of smiles, eskimo and deep kisses. Both you and Bucky had finally found a home in each other.

-------------------------//---------------------------

The next morning

The sunlight shone throughout the whole room and you were reluctant to open your eyes. You felt Bucky stirring behind you as he tightened his hold on your waist.

"Oh heck no, did you two dirty my couch? I didn't give up my bed for you to snuggle with grandpa here, Y/N!" A sheepish grin formed on your face before you opened your eyes to see Sam standing with his arms crossed and a mocked disapproval on his face.

"Auntie Y/N likes Uncle Bucky!" AJ exclaimed aloud as he and his brother stepped into the living room.

You felt Bucky's chest rumbled slightly behind your back and you knew that he was amused to have riled Sam early in the morning. Pulling up the thin blanket over your head as if it could save you from embarrassment, Sam continued to go on his rant.

"Morning, my love." You turned to see Bucky looking at you fondly before leaning down to kiss the top of your brow.

Today is only the start of your forever.

-------------------------//---------------------------

"Wolves are known to follow one female wolf until death."

- Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo

P.S This is my all-time favourite kdrama. Check it out if you haven't! I find that the male lead has many similar qualities I see in Bucky and what a coincidence that he is also known as a wolf in the show just like our white wolf here.

Tag list: @tanyaherondale @spookycereal-s @cataves @archaeoheart @conflicted-noxsirius @archaeoheart @idiotinnit @anxious-stitcher @lindseyrae20 @mads-weasley @taina-eny @intothesoul @oopsiedoopsie23 @detecellie @blueboxesandcats

#bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #tfawts #bucky barnes fanfiction #angstsfordays #marvel fanfiction #beautiful pain

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pointy-ears-kink · 3 years ago

Text

Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Fic #01; prompt: Strangling

Characters: Ezri Dax & Weyoun 6

cw: violence, dissociation

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33471691

@badthingshappenbingo

“How is he?”

The rest of the senior staff turned towards Ezri. They’d been silent the entire time.

Sisko broke the tension. “Who?”

“Weyoun. I mean, they pretty much just turned against everything they’ve ever known and fled to the enemy side, the only thing that allows him to justify it to himself is Odo, and he doesn’t want them around. They must be pretty shaken up.”

“Probably, yes. Why?”

“Well… I’m a counselor. I figured I could talk to him. It’s my job.”

O’brien barged in. “Woah, wait now, I’m not sure that’s such a great idea-”

“They’re right, though. He probably needs it.” Julian interrupted him.

“I just don’t want them to get hurt!”

Sisko raised his palm. “I think they can handle themselves, chief.”

“I just think they deserve a chance.” Ezri tried to keep their voice firm. “Plus, it would also benefit us a great deal if we ensured he’s healthy. But, really, they must be miserable. Just let me help.”

Sisko sighed. “Well then. You may visit him once a day, for an hour. You pick the time. You are to meet with a security officer who will escort you to and from your meetings, during which they’ll wait outside-”

Ezri opened their mouth to contest but Sisko cut them off immediately.

“-and that’s non-negotiable. He’s still under the effect of the toxins from the fake suicide implant, I don’t want to risk it. Dismissed.”

They figured it could’ve been worse, and silently left the room with everyone else.

Weyoun 6 had been taken out of the holding cell and relocated to living quarters as they spoke. He’d only arrived an hour ago and was at first put in a holding cell, but Odo, albeit reluctantly, had vouched for him, on the condition the vorta would be confined to whatever rooms they’d be given for the time being.

All in all, this meant that at 2459 Ezri was on the habitat ring walking away from their quarters and towards Weyoun’s, accompanied by a reluctant security officer. They would have preferred waiting to be rested, but they were only allowed one hour per day, and since it wasn’t midnight yet they could still squeeze in an extra hour. It was a technicality, sure, and Sisko certainly wouldn’t be pleased, but they needed all the time they could get.

At 2512, they were standing in front of the door. They addressed the officer escorting them. “Again, I’m sorry about dragging you here this late, but it’s important. I’ll try to make it up to you.”

She didn’t look pleased but accepted the offer.

2513. Better get started.

Ezri took a deep breath and chimed.

“Who is it?” Weyoun’s voice was slightly shaky.

“My name’s Ezri Dax. I’m a counselor.”

The door opened. Weyoun was precariously sitting at the edge of the window, looking out into space. They spoke without turning their head. “What do you need?”

“I don’t need anything. I’m here to help you.”

Now he turned to look at them, his eyes barely getting them into focus. “Why?”

“Again, I’m a counselor. And I think you could use one.”

“I’m sure there are more useful ways in which you could spend your time.”

“But I chose to come here, so we might as well make the most of it.”

Weyoun remained silent for a bit. “What makes you think this is necessary?”

“Well, I figured things may be tough for you right now. You’re among those you’ve considered your enemies for years, far away from your own kind and the Founders, so I guess-”

The vorta practically hissed. “Don’t you dare speak of them!”

“Alright, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

“Listen, counselor, I’m sure you think you can do something good here, but you don’t know what you’re talking about so don’t pretend you can waltz in and solve everything because of some flimsy licence of yours.”

“That’s not my goal, I’m simply here to talk. It’s up to you how much you want to share.”

“But that’s just another way to put it, isn’t it?” Weyoun stood and started walking towards Ezri. “You make promises of safety, put up a façade to lure me into believing I’m the one with agency here. What for? What do you want from me?”

They were standing dangerously close. Ezri forced themselves not to take a step back, or raise their palms, or do anything that would be read as defensive and invite conflict. “I’d only like to listen to you for a bit to see if we can come up with something. I’m a counselor. It’s my job.”

Weyoun’s voice became a hiss. “I’ve already told you I’m not falling for your lie, either try a new one or tell me truth.”

“It is the truth.”

Wrong answer. His hands jumped to their throat, gripping with unexpected force. Instinctively, they grabbed their wrists.

Shit. Shitshitshit not what I expected.

What did you expect? He should’ve been killed like any other enemy. That was the Joran influence. It had been with them since they’d asked for his help.

This is so not the time for this. Shit.

So far, they had managed to keep the vorta’s hands from choking them, but they were starting to waver.

God, now what?

“They should regain consciousness any second now.”

Ezri could see Julian’s back out the corner of their eye.

“Very well.” Sisko’s voice. He sounded tired.

“The damage was superficial, luckily. Just some bruises. Although I think it may have been due to lack of will rather than ability to harm. Security found him crouched in the corner, completely still and uncommunicative.”

Ezri sat up.

“Ah, lieutenant. How are you feeling?” Sisko was facing them.

Julian turned around, a concerned look on his face.

“I’m fine, really.” They tried to sound calm.

“Ezri, you were strangled until you lost consciousness. Sure, it could’ve been much worse, still, fine is hardly the appropriate term.”

“I do feel fine though.” They took a deep breath, which proved more relieving than they’d ever thought possible. “Where is he?”

“Ezri, I’m not sure you should see him…” Julian looked uncomfortable.

“He’s in a holding cell, isn’t he? I want to see him.”

“Weyoun is yet to be dismissed by Dr. Bashir, lieutenant. It is up to our CMO to decide whether they’re ready for visitors.”

Ezri looked at Sisko, then back at Julian. “Please.”

He sighed. “When he was found, he was completely out of touch with his surroundings. They seem to be slowly getting out of it, though, and I’d prefer to leave them a couple of days to recover before receiving visitors. Since security dropped them off here they’ve only interacted with the strictly necessary medical personnel and I’d rather keep it that way. As a licensed therapist, I’ll allow you in, but I’d rather wait a bit. Pass by later, around 2100. Go to sleep now. You had better be properly rested by then.”

Sisko sighed. “Fine. But this time, you’ll stay in visual range of the security officer and are not to get within two meters of him.”

Ezri almost protested, but figured they weren’t in the position to.

“One hour, lieutenant- computer, what time is it?”

“The time is 2535.”

“-starting tomorrow.”

Ezri got the hint and retired to their quarters. Julian was right, they needed to rest.

“The time is 0600.”

…

“The time is 0600 and ten seconds.”

“Alright, alright! I’m awake.” They begrudgingly pushed the cover away and got up. Turns out, getting strangled didn’t ensure good sleep. Who would’ve thought.

Ezri fueled up on ratkajino and prepared themselves for the day ahead. It didn’t look like it was going to be simple.

Stepping out into the habitat ring corridor, they ran into Odo.

“Hi, Odo.”

He turned. “Lieutenant.”

He resumed his course towards the promenade, Ezri tailing him.

A few moments passed silently. They were struggling to keep up with the pace, but eventually they resolved to speak anyway. “So… have you talked to Weyoun 6 since you two got here?”

“I have not. I thought it best to give him space for the time being.”

“Right. I imagine it might be awkward for you, being around them.”

Odo harrumphed. “That’s one way to put it.” He glanced at them, then went back to focusing on the corridor. “I heard about what happened. I wasn’t there as I was in my regenerative state, but I trust my officers handled the situation appropriately.”

Ezri nodded, even though Odo wasn’t looking at them. “I didn’t see them, but yeah, I think so.” They paused. “Dr. Bashir is taking care of them. He said they’re recovering. They’ll be fine.”

Some more silence before Odo answered. “Thank you, lieutenant.”

“Anytime.”

They spent the rest of their commute in silence. Ezri made it a point to get through the day avoiding -and ignoring- the subtle preoccupied glances, the not so subtle concerned stares, and the straightforward worried questions. They managed, mostly; up until 2030, when they stepped in the infirmary.

Julian was standing by an empty biobed, reading something off a pad. He looked up when he heard their footsteps.

“Oh, hi, Ezri.”

“Hi. I figured I’d come in a bit early.”

“I’m glad. Since we have the time, would you mind if I quickly checked in with you?” He was already lifting a medical tricorder towards them.

Ezri figured it was only fair. He’s the doctor, after all; at the very least, if they got clearance from him, they could dismiss everyone else by reassuring them they’d been checked by the CMO himself.

After scanning their neck and respiratory system thoroughly, he put his tool down. “You’re fine.”

“Why do you sound so disappointed?”

He chuckled. “I’m simply worried about you. I guess I half-hoped to find an excuse not let you do this.”

“I’ll be okay. Now, where are they?”

Julian gestured towards the other side of the infirmary. “Observation.”

The same security officer as the previous night, one ensign McKenzie, was standing by the door.

They awkwardly waved at her. “Sorry about, uhm… everything.”

She shrugged. “Just doing my job. I intend to take you up on your offer, though, so don’t die, okay?”

Ezri smiled. “Okay. Thanks.”

And in they went.

Weyoun was standing near the wall opposite, his hands joined on his back, looking at the posters on the wall about the bajoran muscular system as if it was a scenery.

“Are you feeling alright?”

They turned to look at them. “Yes. I must apologize for my current state.”

“I can’t imagine having spent multiple lifetimes seeing us as your enemy makes this easy or you. You held back though, didn’t you?”

“I… did. And, counselor, I appreciate the effort, but I don’t think you can quite, imagine what that’s like.”

“I think I can though.”

He tilted his head to the side, a question in their eyes.

“You see, I am trill. Although I, Ezri, look- and, in a way, am- twenty two, the Dax symbiont I’m joined with is over three hundred years old. Which, I guess, makes me three hundred. I have memories from seven other lifetimes, and although I didn’t spend all of them leading a war against people I later asked asylum from, I can use my imagination and say, it must be hard.”

Weyoun mulled it over for a bit. “Trill, you say…”

“Yeah. That’s the name of my species. Point is, I kind of get what you mean. And I’m here to help.”

He lightly shook his head. “I don’t wanna risk another… accident. For the time being, I’d prefer thinking things over by myself. However, I’d be glad to keep seeing you. If I am to stay on the station, I’ll need to get acquainted with its people, and I believe having you ease me into it would be good for me. That is, if you wish to.”

They considered it. “Well, sounds good to me. You sure could use some friends. I guess you can consider me one, now. And, in case no one’s told you…”

They fixed their posture, assuming the most formal stance they could muster.

“...welcome to Deep Space Nine.”

#bad things happen bingo #star trek fanfiction #ds9 #exri dax #weyoun 6 #exri dax/weyoun 6

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