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themoonlitquill · 4 months ago

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Whispers Woven in Shadow. (4/?)

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝘼𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧? 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚? 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮.

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 ; 𝖠𝗓𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗅 𝗑 𝖥𝖾𝗆!𝖮𝖢 (𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ; AHHHHH!!! I apologize for this taking me longer than the other chapters! Work has been absolutely HORRIBLE and exhausting and stressful and I feel like I haven’t had time for SHIT. 😫 But that’s healthcare for you! Lmao. ANYWAY, here is chapter 4 and I really liked how this turned out, so I hope ya’ll will too! I also decided to cross-post on my ao3 one chapter at a time and if you would rather read there, just let me know and I’ll send the link. Or I may end up posting it here eventually. Who knows!!! ENJOY! 🩵

𝖳𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 ; 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 (𝗮𝗹𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁) 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵, 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱, 𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿-𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗶𝗹 (𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀), 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝗱, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝗿.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ; 4140.

Everything felt like it was on fire.

It was too much to take and no matter how hard she tried, there was no way to make it stop.

Why was this happening?

What had she done to deserve this?

Please, get me out of here! Please!

Her legs were kicking, but she couldn’t get to the surface, couldn’t get out of the water that she was submerged in, that surrounded her in darkness; it was an endless abyss full of something that she wasn’t prepared to face, ominous and leering, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t!

It was too far. She was starting to run out of air - lungs burning and constricting in pain, nothing but raw agony - and there was no way she’d be able to keep this up forever.

I have to get out of here. Right now!

I’m not ready! Let me make it out, please.

Something wraps around her ankle, grip like ice, hard and strong, cold. She falters for a brief second before doubling her efforts, knowing she needed to get away and she needed to do it fast.

Get off! I’m not going. I won’t!

It yanks at her leg and starts to drag her down, causing panic to set in and her body thrashes in every direction, doing anything she could to break free.

There was a suffocating pressure all around, seeping into her pores and adding a thinly veiled terror that coursed through her veins; she wanted to scream and cry, to ask for help, but how could she? It was ripping her to shreds from the inside out and filling her with the feeling of death.

There was no escape from this.

She moved her arms in wide arcs, attempting to propel herself up to the top, and the more she tried, the harder it pulled, and she felt like she was stuck in quicksand, sucking her in until there was nothing left.

Let me go! I don’t want this! What don’t you understand!?

I’m not dying today! I won’t. I can’t!

A light appears in the distance, small at first, and then coming closer, and closer, and closer, growing in size and becoming brighter until her skin was illuminated with a luminescent glow.

What is this?

Make it stop!

It tightens around her ankle and tugs again, pain stabbing into every inch like shards of shattered glass, digging in to tinge with crimson, and she was certain - right then and there - that this was the end; she wasn’t going to come out of this alive.

Please, please, please.

Don’t do this to me.

She kept going down, down, down. It wasn’t going to let her go, there was no chance.

I’m not a bad person, I don’t deserve this!

The beat of her heart quickened and she fought with everything she had, refusing to give in, refusing to let it have her.

Let me out, let me out, let me out!

Its hold wouldn’t budge, only seeming to become stronger, and she couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t win.

Come on, Ari. Don’t you dare give up!

Keep fighting!

Her legs kick harder, teeth grit together as the burning in her lungs intensifies, like someone had shoved a white hot poker down her throat. It was too much. The flames had spread and she couldn’t breathe. The water was freezing, contrasting with the heat and waging a war inside of her. It was too much.

It hurts, it hurts! Please make it stop!

Keep fighting!

The light engulfs her. It keeps pulling. It won’t stop. It can’t stop. She flails around, struggling for something, anything.

Don’t give up, don’t give up.

You can do this, okay? I promise.

She looks up and blinks, catching sight of movement in the shadows.

No.

No, no, no!

Her mouth opens and she screams.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Ariadne sits up in bed with a startled gasp, air rushing in quickly and making her head spin; she places a hand over her chest, eyelids fluttering as she struggles to catch her breath, and the entirety of her petite frame trembles, thoughts cloudy and bringing forth something that she wanted to be far away from.

You’re okay. You’re fine, she smooths her hands over the satin sheets. It’s over and done with. You went in a- panic claws at her throat and she focuses on the way the fabric feels against her palms. You came back out. That’s the most important thing. You’re alive, Ari.

Her heart was beating rapidly behind her ribcage and it was taking everything she had to calm down, the fear racking her body with aftershocks of the horror that lingered. It was all-consuming, threading into every inch, settling in deep and growing roots that planned to stay.

It’s okay. It’s okay, her fingertips draw small circles, over and over again. I need a distraction. Give me a distraction, she takes a deep breath. Anything will work at this point. Please.

The air shifts and a tickle brushes her skin, catching her attention immediately; her eyes open fully to find the little shadow moving fluidly between her fingers, almost as if it were working hard to get her to notice.

Ariadne’s head tilts, unable to stop the relief that washes over her. I was wondering if you were ever going to come back around.

You had a nightmare.

I don’t really want to talk about it, she swallows and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Where have you been?

Even if you do not want to talk about it, you need to.

It’s too soon.

The longer you wait, the worse it will be.

Don’t use my own words against me.

Why not? They are such good ones.

Her eyes narrow as the shadow slithers up to wrap around her wrist, silken and shimmering beneath the low light. I’ll do it when I’m ready. I know it’ll be harder, but I… I can’t. Not right now.

It tightens for a brief moment and then loosens, temperature even cooler than before; a slow breath passes through her lips, shoulders sagging as some of the weight lifts. There was a sense of serenity, of safety. Was it… trying to comfort her?

We will be here when you do.

There’s that ‘we’ again, her fingers brush over the curve of it. There was no denying that the shadow had come to check on her, all assumptions gone and turned into fact. It was strange. She didn’t quite know how to take it and she wasn’t sure if she ever would.

Thank you for being here.

Where else would I be?

Ariadne huffs, eyes rolling. Wherever it is you’ve been since I last saw you a day and a half ago.

I was here.

Her brow furrows. Where? I couldn’t find you anywhere.

Is that your way of saying you missed my company?

Not if you’re going to be cocky about it, the corner of her mouth twitches when the shadow squeezes for a second time. You’re the best to talk to around here.

Are you including the Shadowsinger in that as well?

She falls silent upon his mention, not quite sure what she thought of him yet and even if she did, there was no way of knowing if she would be able to form it into a coherent sentence. Azriel was… peculiar? Was that the word she was looking for? Either way, she simply didn’t know and that was all she had at the moment.

I don’t think he likes me very much.

What makes you say that?

Ariadne blinks in surprise. It was a good question, as well as a fair one. Why did she think that? Regardless of the unknown word that could possibly describe the Shadowsinger, he had been fairly decent to talk to; polite, smart, inquisitive, and a lot less intimidating than she’d guessed. He didn’t push or pry, didn’t ask anything inappropriate, and wasn’t rude in the slightest.

Though, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he acted differently towards her than everyone else and it was throwing her off. Granted, she hadn’t been around Azriel that often before and maybe he was the same, but she didn’t know that for sure either.

I just can’t… she pauses. I can’t get a good read on him, I guess. He’s difficult to figure out and I don’t know if the questions I’m asking are the wrong ones.

There is not anything that you could ask that would be considered wrong to him.

She goes quiet again, watching as the shadow rotates around her wrist and then disappears, only to reappear on her shoulder. A soft hum emits from her throat as she continues to watch, reaching up to stroke the tip of her finger along the length of it; lips curving slightly when that purring sound reverberates in her head.

Is that your way of saying I should be true to myself and ask whatever I want? Even if it’s multiple questions at once?

I would recommend not going too quickly. What is the point in asking someone something if you do not give them enough time to answer?

Ariadne scratches her finger along the top in response. She knew it was right, and yet, she still didn’t know how to go about any of this. It was new and foreign and exhilarating, but it was also scary, which was upsetting to admit to herself. She didn’t want to be scared, because really, what was she scared of?

Pity.

Judgment.

Rejection.

A frown mars her features and she gives a half-shrug, working to push the negativity into one of the boxes she created, not wanting to have any of it free and wreaking havoc on her thoughts. It would always be there no matter what and if she was able to keep it at bay for a little while longer, then that was what she would do.

We’ll see, she settles back against the headboard, a small sigh falling from her lips. I may have a lot of questions, but the last thing I want to do is overwhelm anyone. Azriel included.

What you choose to do is up to you. It is all your decision, Ariadne. No one can take that away. The most we will ever do is to make sure that you are kept safe.

We, as in you and the rest of the shadows, right?

More or less.

Ariadne rolls her eyes, though there was a fondness in it that made her realize she didn’t mind the cryptic messages that were given to her; in fact, it only further served to capture her intrigue and made her wonder exactly what it was that still had yet to be revealed. It was a mystery and she was never one to deny the excitement that came along with unraveling them.

Even if she would much rather the answers be easier to obtain, the search could be fun.

Thank you, by the way.

For?

Distracting me.

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

I don’t like the kiwi. It doesn’t really taste like anything to me. Is that even… a thing? Ariadne sets the fruit down and moves to the bowl of cherries. There’s a pit in these if I remember right. Let’s not choke, please, she picks one up and bites into it before pulling it away to see the center. Okay, this is better, she chews, the tartness reminding her of the lemon bars and the juicy sweet had a hint of smokiness that was very much addictive. Definitely adding to the list.

She finishes it - unlike the few others she’d already tried - and wipes her fingers on the napkin, head tilting as everything around went completely still; it happened in an instant and she knew it wasn’t the magic of the house, but rather, a magic of another kind. Much stronger. Much more prominent, and riddled with power.

What was it?

Probably something you don’t want to mess with, her spine stiffens, throat working to swallow. It isn’t something, Ari, the back of her neck prickles. It’s someone.

“Well done, littlest Archeron. You can sense another Daemati, though, I wouldn’t recommend leaving an opening in your mind or else anyone could get in, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She turns in a blink, only to be met with violet eyes - flecked with what she had imagined starlight to look like when Feyre had tried to describe it in written words - and a feline smirk.

“Rhysand.”

“Now, what have I done to upset you enough to feel the need to use my full name?” The vast intensity of his tone seems to soften a bit, becoming less of an enormity and more of something steady, grounding even. “I’d like it if you’d call me Rhys.”

Ariadne watches him carefully, finding herself unsure how to proceed. Azriel and his shadows were one thing, but the High Lord was a whole other playing field that she had no clue how to navigate.

Who are you kidding, Ari? You have no idea how to do any of this.

“Do you always talk to yourself?”

Her attention snaps back to the male in front of her, eyes narrowing. “Not very many people to talk to before I was thrown into that damn Cauldron, now was there? Don’t stand there and judge me for what I’ve done in years of silence.”

Rhys doesn’t move, though she swears there’s a hint of regret swirling amongst the stars. “I would never judge you. I’m the last person to judge anyone anyway,” his weight shifts. “You’ll need to practice separating your thoughts from what you say when the line of communication is open. Best to keep them private until you decide otherwise.”

“How do I do that?”

“Picture a barrier of some kind,” he walks around the counter and taps a finger against the wall. “Not too thick,” he pulls the towel off the handle of the oven and holds it up. “Not too thin,” the cup is in his hand and before she registers what’s happening, it’s thrown across the room and shatters into pieces. “But strong enough where no one can break through.”

“That way I can open and close it more easily than the big wall. Makes sense,” Ariadne clasps her hands together in her lap and raises a brow. “Are you going to clean that up?”

“Clean what up?”

Confusion flashes across her face briefly and then she sighs. Magic house. Right.

“I have a question for you,” Ariadne changes the subject, noting the amusement in his eyes and she decides that he is a sarcastic ass. “If a Daemati can sense another, why didn’t you know until now?”

The regret returns, which she finds interesting, and his mouth tightens. “Because I wasn’t paying attention. I was too focused on Feyre and what she’s doing in Spring Court,” he steps forward, almost seeming nervous. “I’m not well-versed in apologies, but I want to make it up to you by helping. If I can and if you’ll let me, that is.”

She lets his words echo in her mind, sinking in and allowing her to mull over exactly what he was offering, though not before she envisions a plate of glass that reflected iridescent hues in soft pastels to protect what she didn’t want him to know; it was several inches thick and impenetrable, as solid as steel and would serve its purpose well.

Good job, Ari. Now, she vacates her expression, unwilling to give anything away. What do you think of this? It seems genuine, but do you really want him to be the one to help you? Everything is still so new and happening all at once. Maybe you need to take a beat and try to process more before going forward.

A frown nearly succeeds in fighting its way to the surface at that. Aren’t you the one who wanted answers? Does it matter who they’re from or what order they come in? You might as well get them while you can since you don’t know if you’ll have an opportunity like this again.

Ariadne taps her finger against her knuckles as the thoughts run rampant, not wanting to resort to destroying herself over something as simple as a conversation with another, and tilts her head, eyes roaming over Rhys, who stood in silent observation.

“I’m alright with your help with the Daemati stuff,” she begins and is granted a small smile from the High Lord. “But everything else… I’ll play by ear. It’s my life and I deserve to have a say in who, when, and where,” she surveys his expression as she continues. “I don’t know you very well and if I’m being honest, I don’t know what I think of you just yet.”

A brief silence settles.

“Fair enough,” he nods. “Trust is earned and I have every intention of earning your’s. Even if it takes a while.”

She mimics the action and rubs a soothing circle onto the back of her hand, adding the right amount of pressure to remind herself that she was fine.

“Okay then. We can start tomorrow.”

₊˚✧𑁍.ೃ࿔*:･

Ariadne’s eyes widen as they move over the inked words on the page, finding herself completely taken aback by the scene unfolding in her mind; the female was allowing the male to… Oh. What is- OH! Is that what happens? Is it-!

A familiar coolness brushes over her feet, causing her to jump and slam the book shut, cheeks flushing bright red.

Don’t do that!

You should pay more attention.

I’m reading! Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to interrupt someone when a good story is involved?

No.

Ariadne releases a huff. Well, it is, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t do it again. Now, she sets the book onto the table. What is so important that you decided to scare the absolute hell out of me?

The shadow wraps around her calf and squeezes. You are wanted elsewhere.

By who?

If you would finally leave this library for once, you would find out.

How very cryptic of you, she rolls her eyes. I should be used to it by now, I suppose, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Do I have to? It isn’t Rhysand, is it? I already told him we’ll start tomorrow.

You do not have to do anything, but I strongly encourage it, there’s a small pause as the shadow moves to encircle her wrist. It is not the High Lord.

Thank the blasted Cauldron for that. Fine, Ariadne pushes herself up from the chair to stand and glances down at the shimmering tendril. I’ll go. Happy?

Ecstatic.

Her eyes roll for a second time, but she exits the library and makes her way down the hall. Where am I going?

To the roof.

The roof? Why am I wanted on the roof?

You will see.

Ariadne sighs and decides to not question it any further. It wasn’t like she was getting anywhere - she never did - with the shadow’s answers, so why bother? She keeps walking, allowing instinct to guide her and she comes to a hall that leads to the right that she hadn’t noticed before. Her brow furrows. Where did this come from?

There was no response, not that she expected one, and she chooses to follow it, figuring that if she got lost, it would be a sort of adventure and she’d make the best of it like she did everything else; she continues on, fingers gliding along the wall and mind zoning out, wandering to who could possibly want her around. It couldn’t be Feyre, could it? No, don’t be silly, Ari. You would know if she was back.

Then who was it?

She sighs and looks down at her wrist to see that the shadow had disappeared, a frown now formed on her lips. Gee, thanks. What a tour guide you turned out to be, Ariadne returns her gaze forward and notices a winding staircase ahead that went up, with no clue as to where it went. Wonderful.

Her arm lowers to her side when she approaches, standing at the bottom for a moment and weighing on whether this was a good idea or not. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, right? Might as well. She takes a breath and begins to climb, one by one, finding herself thankful that there was a railing to hold onto; the last thing she needed was to lose her footing and fall.

This is stupid. Why am I doing this? Ariadne bites at the inside of her lip. Because the shadow told you, she shakes her head. You make your own decisions and you could’ve said no, and you can still go back if you want to. No one is forcing you, her teeth puncture the skin and she tastes blood. But you want to know and it’ll drive you crazy otherwise.

Another sigh. Keep going then. Someone is waiting, apparently, and it’d be more stupid of you to not go and find out, the stairs become a bit steeper and she huffs, the muscles in her legs burning from the exertion. This better be worth it.

It seemed that it was endless, going on and on, and wearing her out in a way that made her want to give up and go back the way she came, but that was soon forgotten when a door came into view. She nearly cheers in triumph, feeling proud that she had managed it all on her own. There was still no knowledge of what - who - exactly would be on the other side and that caused a bit of nerves to rise to the surface, though she made herself open it anyway.

The first thing to hit her was the fresh air; surprisingly warm despite the sun lowering behind the distant mountains and scented with some sort of flower that she wasn’t familiar with. She inhales deeply, the corner of her mouth twitching, and walks further out, noting that this wasn’t what she would consider a roof, more so an overlook or maybe even a really large balcony.

Her head tilts as she observes the surroundings, finding it to be quite nice. It was private and secluded, a prime place for her to read or write, which she hadn’t done since she was Made, and she couldn’t help but feel slighted that she was just now discovering it.

All I’d need is to get one of those comfy armchairs from the library up here, Ariadne places a hand on her hip. A footstool too, she swivels to the right. And a table, a small hum emits from her throat. There has to be a type of magic that would keep it all safe from the weather that would make it okay for me to leave books and other things too.

She crosses to the bannister and places her hands flat on top, leaning up on her tip-toes to look over the edge and realizing she couldn’t see everything that she wanted; she pushes herself up further until her feet dangle above the ground, her stomach pressed against the stone as she worked to keep balanced. Her chin lifts, eyes taking in the sights presented before her and eliciting a soft gasp.

It was beautiful.

There were hundreds of lights down below, all coming from the buildings, and winding streets that she was sure were filled with the people who lived there, bursts of color in one area and a flowing river that seemed to glitter with something akin to diamonds. She had never seen anything like it in her life and she was itching to go explore, just to see what she might find, who she might meet, what she might learn.

Ariadne leans over further, excitement getting the best of her, when the balance that she was trying to maintain falters.

She teeters forward and a startled squeak escapes from her mouth, hands scrambling for purchase on the bannister as she begins to fall; her chest heaves, nothing but pure panic taking over, and her legs kick in an attempt to pull her body back down to solid ground.

Oh Gods! Don’t let me die like this! No, no, n-!

Something hard and strong and warm grips her hips, effectively cutting off her train of thought and rescuing her from certain death. She sucks in a sharp breath and whirls around immediately, eyes wide as she looks up, up, up to meet a perfectly chiseled jaw and golden hazel that was full of a whirlwind of emotions that she didn’t have the mind to decipher right then.

“Azriel?”

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ; @ashblooddragons , @rcarbo1 , @waytoomanyteenagefeels , @prettylittlewrites , @tele86 , @missxmarvelous , @herondale-lightworm , @kabekusa , @fr0stf4ll .

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bwat5-blog · 6 months ago

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No Matter How The World Tries To Break You: Revisiting Vi's Loss

** Spoilers for all of Arcane**

"Vi is such a crap sister"

"Vi let Jinx die"

"All she had to do was move, she refused to listen to Jinx even after everything she did!""

"Jinx is gone because Vi couldn't let Vander go"

**This is sort of a return to one I've already done but with some updated thoughts and more of a complete picture, so if you read my stuff you have probably heard most of this**

In the weeks since the show ended everyone has been sharing their reactions, fan-art and fiction, trading theories and asking questions. It has been truly wonderful to be a part of. And my understanding and appreciation of these characters and their story has only grown thanks to this community.

However, certain things have also persisted. Things that I simply cannot wrap my head around. One of which, is the amount of people suggesting that in that last moment between the sisters and what used to be their father Vi failed. She faltered, "letting her trademark refusal to let go of the past cost her sister her life" (hypothetically)....

They dismiss or disdain her heart and refuse to consider it in their judgement. But to dismiss Vi's heart is, first of all to dismiss a massive part of her story, but it also to dismiss her humanity. And it is the humanity of Arcane that makes this story what it is. And so as I have in bits and pieces across other posts, we are going to take another very quick look at what she has been through, and keeping that in mind, discuss that tragic moment between the former family and why she can't move off of that platform.

A Barebones List of Vi's Suffering: No discussion of blame or right or wrong just what happened.

Age 9-

Witnesses the death of her birth parents and several of their people at the hands of Enforcers

Age 15-

Has spent years living in harsh and dangerous Undercity (think back to the fight with Deckard if you need reminding.. "wanna see how that ends")

Witnesses violent deaths of Mylo, Claggor, and Vander. All after coming so close to saving them and fighting off armed thugs all on her own.

Parted from Powder in way that leaves massive amount of guilt and fear for her little sister's well being

Kidnapped and thrown into prison with out cause

Age 15 to Age 22-

Seven years in Stillwater prison. Abused, assaulted, completely deprived of love and kindness and hope.

Age 22-

Stabbed and beaten by Sevika after being told her sister was Silcos daughter

Narrowly escapes Silco's ambush in her old child hood home, having to bring it down to get away

Reunited with sister to find she is unstable and dangerous, taken from her after barely any time together when Vi is knocked out

Almost killed by sister on same bridge where their parents died. Surrounded by victims of her sisters bombs

See's Zaunite boy killed during she and Jayce's raid on shimmer plant

Almost killed by Sevika again during fight, knocked out and abducted by Jinx after she wins

Her long lost beloved sister who has clearly become someone very different, offers to be who Vi wants her to be if Vi will just murder the innocent woman she has come to have feelings for. Vi stops Caitlyn from shooting at Jinx trying desperately to keep them both safe, sees Caitlyn violently knocked out, is then almost killed by Silco before Jinx saves her, but kills Caitlyn's mother.

She is willing to hunt Jinx down, but Caitlyn asks her to wear the uniform of the people who killed her parents

Survives the memorial attack in which Caitlyn was almost killed as well.

Agrees to become an Enforcer: Compromises her principles, doing violence in the streets of her home. Readies herself to kill her sister.

Realizes after giving up on and almost killing her sister that she IS still in there.

The woman she loves, who she put on the uniform for, tells her she is no different than her sister, hits her, and leaves her.

Age 23-

Spends several months totally alone in self-destructive spiral in which she has given up

Gets Vander back but he is in mutated form

Loses Vander in extremely violent fashion only a short time later

Loses Isha violently

Almost killed by explosion saving Jinx's life

Left behind by Jinx after going to free her

Fights in terrible battle in which for just one example of the death she saw Lorris riddled with arrows

Okay. that brings us back to the incident in question. Now, I don't know about all of you. But I read that list, and then look at the twenty-three year old woman trying to hard to protect the people she loves, and my heart breaks for her. That amount of trauma and loss is staggering. So when Violet stands over the prone body of what was once her father, she doesn't respond to jinx calling about the platform failing. She doesn't speak... she doesn't respond.... her whole world is centered around Vander's prone form, and when she falls to her knees we see what she is seeing.

Her father, the man who raised them when Felicia and Connal were killed. She sees the night he died in her arms the first time. When she was only fifteen... It has come be my belief, that Vi was experiencing what is sometimes called a "Dissociative Flashback" related to PTSD born of the horrific life she has lived.

** DISCLAIMER: I AM IN NO WAY A MEDICAL HEALTH PROFFESIONAL. THESE ARE THE OBSERVATIONS OF A FAN BASED ON RESEARCH AND BELIEF ONLY***

At the very basic layman's level, (because that's all I understand anyway) all of this trauma has culminated in a flashback where Vi is not able to process what's going around her, because her mind is locked in that terrible night all those years ago where she lost her entire family. She can't see the platform crumbling, she can't hear her sisters desperate calls. And it's not until what used to be her father tries to kill her, that her mind is ripped back into the present moment. And it's not the Vi we know... it's the Vi we knew. She blocks his first hit, but then.. she doesn't fight. She crawls back confused and afraid, and when she calls his name she sounds for all the world like a young girl who doesn't understand why her father is hurting her. This is a terrible, tragic moment in which we are seeing this incredibly resilient young woman just finally have enough. It's heartbreaking, and it is in that moment when she is more vulnerable than she has ever been, that the little sister she found her way back to saves her life.

As I said it my discussion on Caitlyn earlier tonight, this is not about favorite characters. This is not about liking or disliking Vi's arc either. This is about empathy and understanding. It is about seeing the humanity in this twenty-three year old woman who has been so strong for others her whole life, laid low and needing someone to stand for her. And so to those of you who feel targeted by this post, I am not questioning you for not liking Vi. That is your right. But perhaps if you cannot see the heartbreaking humanity in this moment, you should begin to ask yourself some questions.

Keep standing up for the stories that matter, because that my friends, is how they endure. Thank you for reading, see you all next time.

#arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane season 1 #arcane #vi arcane #arcane vi #media literacy

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olsenmyolsen · 2 years ago

Text

Bullseye

master list

dark master list

Post Hawkeye (Deaf Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: Your cute new friend Kate learns ASL for you.

Word Count: 4.4K

Content None I think... just cuteness.

Two weeks ago, Kate Bishop saw you across the library.

She had just finished classes and was rushing to pick up a book she needed for an essay she HAD NOT started when she saw you.

She hadn't seen you around before, and Kate was instantly mesmerized by how your cute face scrunched as you kept your head low to read. Kate couldn't take her eyes away, and she got to see your smile when you enjoyed a particular moment of your book.

Kate loved seeing your smile and how your eyes lit up.

Kate looked at her phone and truly needed to find the book and leave now or never. But on that day, Kate Bishop was feeling bold. Blame on the need for a certain thrill since Clint took her off Hawkeye duties to focus on school, but Kate started walking towards you.

You, however, never saw or heard her coming. Not when she tripped over her own feet. And not even when she stumbled sitting down next to you.

You had no idea Kate Bishop existed.

Maybe you would have if you had your aids in, but they made you feel embarrassed and inadequate, something you've struggled with for years. Something a certain someone would help you with in time. But, for now, you choose to go without them 99% of the time.

So when Kate started with a simple greeting, that turned into an overcomplicated rambling where she gave you numerous unwanted compliments.

You didn't hear it.

In fact, you didn't even look over to the now slummed-over pretty girl with the blue-grey eyes until she slammed her head on the table in defeat.

The vibrations of the repeated knock of the head against wood alerting you.

You put a bookmark in your book before closing it to look around, hoping maybe someone lost their friend because you had no idea why she was sitting at your table.

But at last, no one had lost the captain of the archery team. So you waited for her to look up, hoping to get an answer, and when she did, you're lucky your mouth didn't drop open.

She was gorgeous. Stunning actually. You had no idea why she was sitting here, but now you didn't want her to leave. You were about to lift your hand when you saw her eyes open in shock before her pink lips started speaking a hundred miles per minute.

Too fast for you to keep up.

You tried to get her to stop, but before you knew it, the last thing you saw was her black ponytail bouncing away.

You didn't know what to make of the last two minutes, but there wasn't much you could do. So, with a frown and shrug of the shoulder, you returned to your book. Wishing you got a chance to say anything.

Exiting the library, Kate Bishop was red in the face. You had just sat there ignoring her as she tripped over all of her words and called you beautiful and babe within two sentences. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She wanted to stab herself with an arrow. Badly!

Kate shook her head because that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was when you finally looked at her. You acknowledged her. Kate was already embarrassed enough. So she apologized and claimed that she would never bother you again.

But yet here she was two weeks later. Spotting you from across the library just like before.

"Go!" Kate felt a nudge on her arm from her friend Laura Kinney—a fast friend of Kate after transferring from Canada a year prior.

Kate looked back at her friend. "Stop that! I'm not going." Laura rolled eyes. "You talked about this one chick not stop-"

"No! I talked about how I embarrassed myself once! You're the one who keeps bringing it up!"

Laura shook her head and nudged her friend again. "Go! She's cute, and if you don't go, I will." Kate turned her head to her friend, surprised, but saw that maybe her friend wasn't kidding. "Ugh." Kate turned back to look at you. "Fine! Okay! I'll try again!"

"Good luck!" Laura called out, knowing Kate would need it. Kate sent a thumbs up and did her best to calm her nerves. "Just apologize and don't ramble," Kate whispered to herself as she reached your table.

However, before Kate could do anything, you closed your book and turned away from Kate to put it in your bag—the action meant nothing to you. But to Kate, it would appear you didn't want anything to do with her.

That thought was further cemented when you got up without looking at her and started walking away.

Without realizing it, Kate began to walk after you.

Her walk turned into a quick jog when her brain finally caught up to what was happening. She was right behind you when she said: "Excuse me! Hi!"

Yet you kept walking.

Okay, the library is busy, and maybe Kate could've spoken up a bit louder, so she tried again, HOPING that you weren't actively trying to get away from her.

"Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I..." She trailed off when you kept moving forward, keeping your head staring straight ahead at the library's exit doors. Kate was growing embarrassed and did the one thing she could think of.

She ran ahead and turned around, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hi!" Kate breathed out with a wave, coming face to face with you for the first time. You looked up from her lips, surprised at who was standing in front of you.

It was her!

Hi. You waved back with a questioning look to Kate's beautiful eyes before looking down to her lips—something Kate noticed.

"Sorry to bother you, but I don't know if you remember me but..." That was all you caught reading her lips before Kate started speaking quicker and quicker than you could process.

In your defense, even Clint Barton, an Avenger, said Kate had more speed talking than Captain America did running.

You held your hand up, shutting Kate up. She looked at you with curious eyes and waited to hear your voice, but instead, you started signing.

I do remember you.

Kate immediately felt embarrassed. She knew very little to almost nothing of what you were saying.

She promised Clint she would start learning when he began teaching, but for someone who helped save the world, he could still be stubborn. But now The Archer regretted not learning ASL.

Kate awkwardly smiled, making you smile back, in turn, causing Kate's face to flush red. You caught it. While looking at one another, you both thought the other person was beyond cute.

"I'm sorry," Kate spoke slower than she usually would. You tilted your head as she continued. "I don't know ASL."

You made a flat smile and nodded. Most people didn't. So it wasn't surprising that the first new cute girl to talk to you in some time didn't know it either. It just meant it would be harder to forget her when she inevitably didn't want to make the effort.

But you had never met Kate Bishop till before this moment. You didn't know that she was just as stubborn as her mentor but a thousand times more annoying when she needed to be. She wasn't going to give up.

She was going to learn for you.

She was going to speak to you.

Kate watched you nod and go to walk away, but she stepped in front of you again. "Wait!" She held her hands up and quickly pulled out her phone, handing it to you. You took it as it sat on the New Contact screen and looked up with furrowed brows. "Please?" Kate asked, making you nod and blush.

Kate watched your fingers fly over the keyboard before you handed it back. You watched Kate smile and try not to laugh at your contact name: Y/N 👂❌

You bite back your own laughter. Having been used to not everyone being comfortable with something you lost at a young age.

Kate looked up to see your smile and finally broke laughing. Her pearly whites were on display until she closed her mouth and started typing in her phone.

A few seconds later, yours buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you looked up and smiled. The text read: "Hi Y/N. I'm Kate Bishop 🏹!" You nodded and made that her contact name.

"So Kate Bishop... what can I do you for?"

You typed and immediately regretted sending because you sounded like someone who was a boring attorney. But Kate found it kind of charming.

You looked down from her as the three dots popped up and down, but nothing happened. You looked back up at Kate, who was nervously biting her lip.

"You ok?" You typed to Kate, who stopped biting her lip, avoided your eye contact, and replied: "Yes. Sorry!" But Kate wanted to say more. She wanted to say: "I was going to ask for your number earlier, but we kinda blew through that quicker than I imagined. So now I don't know what to do?! Do I ask you out now? Is that allowed? Would you say yes?! You don't even know me!?"

But Kate didn't say that. Instead, she wrote: "I tried talking to you a couple of weeks ago because you seemed like a really cool person. Which you are! Ugh sorry. This is so embarrassing as I type this, but I wanted to know if you wanted to be friends? 😅"

Kate added the emoji, hoping to relieve any awkwardness. And it did. But Kate asking you to be friends wasn't where you thought this was going.

Truth be told, it wasn't.

But Katherine Elizabeth "Kate" Bishop wasn't going to ask you out over text. She was going to ask you face-to-face, and she didn't want you to read her lips to make it happen.

Yet you didn't know that. All you knew was that a cute, friendly girl was choosing to seek you out and wanted to get to know you. So you smiled and nodded to Kate, whose eyes lit up. "Great!" She audibly yelled, earning a fury of looks from people around.

But a smile from you.

"Sorry." You read Kates lips as she looked around at people shaking their heads and looking away.

Kate looked down at her buzzing phone to see a message from you. "Maybe we should leave the library. Are you busy rn?" Kate froze as she looked at the words on her screen. She was supposed to be courting you. Asking you out in time. Were you flirting? No. This is just what friends do. Hang out! The two of you were now friends! Right?

Kate's turmoil-struck brain could only process so much so fast before she decided to actually look at the time and realize, yes, she was supposed to be somewhere right now. Kate sent you a frown. "I actually should be on my way to archery practice."

That made a lightbulb go off above you. That's why she wanted her name like that in your phone. You thought Kate was being cute and was saying she was Cupid or was sent by Cupid or something. However, her being on the archery team made a lot more sense. You felt silly for thinking it was the former. But you pressed on.

"I have a free period right now. Can I come?"

Kate looked up from her phone and nodded with glee. "I'd love that!" Kate yelled once again, earning glares from everyone else in the room, but the two of you paid them no mind as Kate started leading the way.

On the walk, Kate and you enjoyed one another's company while also learning about the other one. It was new and slightly awkward but adorable to any outsider looking in. Like when you asked Kate if she took up archery because of the Hunger Games, she laughed and said no. She did it because she was saved by Hawkeye during the Battle of New York.

The very same battle you lost your hearing.

But Kate didn't know. She would in time.

Not right now.

The conversation about Hawkeye led to the two of you talking about your favorite Avengers. Kate's being obvious, and yours surprising her.

You said Natasha Romanoff—the Black Widow.

When asked why, you just sadly shrugged before replying through text: "The Avengers were all great. Most of them were role models. But none of them looked as good as she did in her uniform." You laughed to hide the tears in your eyes.

But Kate saw, leading you to type: "Plus, I bet she gave the best hugs." Kate smiled at that and could agree. Her and Wanda Maximoff probably gave the best hugs.

Where was Wanda, by the way??

Kate's phone buzzed, bringing her back. "Sorry... I could give actual reasons, but I don't want to cry right now." You smiled and swallowed the lump in your throat when Kate looked over at you.

Because Kate could relate, she had only gotten to hear Clint share less than a handful of stories about The Black Widow, and each time, they ended with the man in tears.

"I have a friend who's the same. It's okay." Kate sent back to you, making you feel better before you asked her if she had read Scott Lang's book, to which she said not yet.

Meanwhile, it was in your backpack.

Three weeks from now, she would borrow it and read the chapter dedicated to Natasha and cry.

As you and Kate walked up to the field holding practice, you had Kate lead you to a spot where you could safely watch from. Unbeknownst to you, the other girls around you were friends or girlfriends of the ladies on the team. So when people saw you walk up with THE Katherine Bishop, everyone started talking in hushed whispers.

But not that you knew.

However, you couldn't lie. Watching Kate's arms and fingers hold and mess around with something that's basically string and wood never looked so hot. On top of that, the shy, awkward, almost annoyingly cute girl you had become quick friends with didn't exist anymore. When the arrow flew from her fingers, she was confident, cocky, and dominant.

Also, she was easily the best of the team. Hot.

The warmth rising in you hit a tipping point when she pointed at you and then to the bullseye on the target before mouthing, "watch this." You expected Kate to turn and look to where she was shooting, but she didn't. She looked straight at you and let the arrow go. Your eyes went from Kate to the target.

Bullseye.

The girls around you erupted into a mixture of cheers, shock, and jealousy. They all turned to you, confusing you before you saw a couple of them smile and point back to Kate as if they were praising the two of you.

You're fairly certain you saw the word "girlfriend" being thrown around, but you just shook your head and waited for Kate to come to your rescue.

Over the next couple of months, as the season of spring was winding down to make way for the heat of summer, you and Kate had only grown closer. Your friendship had turned the two of you into being the best of friends.

Often being mistaken for girlfriends.

A mistake that always left you and Kate blushing but never saying how awful it would be if that was the case.

It was like there was a silent understanding. Kate knew what she was waiting for, and you were too nice and kind to even think about jeopardizing what you two had.

It was expected that if one of you was around, the other one had to be within ten feet. And this was true—most times. But there had been times in the past where if you woke up in the middle of the night after passing out while reading, you'd discover Kate gone. Her bag and clothes would still be there, but she was just gone. Well, herself and... her archery equipment.

That part confused you.

You wanted to bring it up to her. Because for one reason, whatever she was doing was making her exhausted. You could see it on her face better than anyone. She was tired mentally and physically. You didn't like seeing her like that.

The other reason is that it hurt you to see someone you cared about lying to you. You hated it and didn't want to hate the girl who started holding your hand on your walks across campus. The one who never missed a bullseye for you. The same girl who decided to read The Hunger Games instead of just watching the movies for you.

So when you couldn't bear yourself to bring it up to her, you decided to wait up and catch her.

Kate had no idea you had started to catch onto her. But it's not like Kate enjoyed sneaking around. Well, she did, but that was when she was chasing bad guys and doing some recon. But she hated it when it came to you. Sneaking around behind your back felt wrong, no matter the cause.

So, as Kate quietly picked up her bow and quiver, she looked over at your sleeping form and made a motion with her hands.

You didn't see it as you faked sleeping. But if you did, you would've understood why Kate was being sneaky.

Kate turned away from you and took a few steps towards her window. Kate opened it and reached back behind her when suddenly you flicked on the light in the bedroom of her dorm as she looked ready to jump out of her window. A labeled arrow prepared to fire.

Kate slowly lowered the bow and turned her head to you. You stood wearing her high school archery t-shirt and a pair of black shorts.

Kate couldn't help but smile. She loved seeing you in her clothes.

And you loved seeing her in yours, but right now, that was the last thing on your mind as Kate sheepishly said: "It's not what it looks like."

You threw your arms up at that and ran up to her, smacking your head as if to say, "what the hell are you doing?"

Kate sighed and knew that now was the time to say one thing or the other. Or maybe both?? Kate weighed her options before gently placing her bow on the bed you two had come to share. As friends of course.

You watched Kate let go of the bow before her hands found their way to yours. Taking them from your hips.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." She started as you watched her pink lips speak. Tilting your head at the words she spilled before she softly let go of your hands to unzip her purple hoodie.

You gasped and covered your mouth when you saw what she was hiding. You looked from her guilty eyes back to her purple suit. Kate watched you step forward and raise a hand to her hip. The touch making her stomach flip while two of your fingers danced along the edge before gliding up the lining of the suit before they floated away.

Kate missing your contact already.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. But yet, it made sense.

You'd been to enough practices to know the only match for Kate with a bow and arrow would be an Avenger. You looked to Kate's downward face and put your finger on the underside of her chin. Lifting it up. Her eyes meeting yours. You weren't mad. Well, you were, but if anything, now you were just shocked.

Are you Hawkeye? You signed without realizing it.

Yes. Kate signed ba— KATE SIGNED!

You took a step back in awe. Did that happen? You swallowed and stared at the girl, holding back a smile dressed in a purple superhero suit. Slowly, you raised your hands and, with a deep breath, signed: You can understand me?

Yes.Kate signed the exact same way as before, surprising you once again.

She was communicating with you in ASL. Your best friend- someone you cared for- No someone who you loved was signing!

Tears were threatening to spill as you ran into Kate and wrapped your arms around her. Your head burying its way into her neck. Kate wrapping her arms around you, holding you tight.

As Kate held you, she heard your sniffles and felt a few tears spill from your eyes. Kate bit her lip to keep her eyes from spilling.

It was then she decided she would keep the night of surprises going. So, after some time, she patted her hand against your back and removed her hold from you as you moved back to look at her. Your eyes were a little red, but Kate could see what was holding in them.

Kate smiled and started moving her hands. Since I met you, I've been learning ASL.

Your mouth dropped. With who? You could've asked me!?

You would've loved to teach Kate. But it had to be done this way.

Kate didn't answer you. Instead, she pulled out her phone and went to a secret photo album you had never seen before. Inside were pictures of her with Lucky, a family, some friends, and lastly... Clint Barton.

You looked up from the phone to Kate and back to the phone—Full-on, yanking it from her hands. You zoomed in on his face and then Kates before sliding through other pictures of the two of them together. A lot of them were unflattering pics of the grown man while Kate smiled brightly. But then there were some where Clint smiled and posed ridiculously for his mentee. You laughed and smiled at each one, including the ones of his family surrounding Kate.

You swiped once more, and a video automatically started to play. You felt the vibrations in your hand but couldn't make anything out. However, Kate knew exactly what was happening in the video.

It was Kate's first ASL lesson months prior. But that didn't start till ten minutes in. Instead, what was playing right now to the room was Kate in the video going on and on about this new friend of hers named Y/N. Kate mentions that you are the reason that she wants to learn sign language.

Slightly and purposely offending Clint.

"Okay, so let's say I manage to teach you, and you manage to learn, then what?"

Clint asks in the video.

"Then I ask her out."

Kate replies.

You looked up from the video to Kate. Asking why she is blushing, Kate takes a step closer to you and asks for her cell phone back. You place it in her hand. She hits the button on the side before putting it in her pocket.

I learned for you.

You watch Kate sign and mouth simultaneously, the feeling of wanting to cry from pure happiness returning. Why? You asked Kate as you smiled.

Kate lifts her hands and stops. She starts to sign but stops again.

The Archer breathes in and out.

Because ever since I met you, I've wanted to do one thing. Kate waits for you to nod back to her. I- Y/N... Y/N, do you want to go out?

She signs with a nervous smile.

Together? Sometime, like on a date. A real date! One where we dress up and go out on the town, not just eat junk in my-

You surprised Kate by jumping into her arms. Cutting off her ramblings in ASL. Kate barely had time to register to catch you before she felt just how soft your lips were.

Kate closed her eyes and melted into you. She marveled at the feeling of your smile as the kiss deepened. You pushed further into her and felt butterflies flutter inside of you at what you've wanted for so long.

Kate felt the same and would vow to always hold you closer than anyone ever could as she pulled you into her. Taking you all in.

Eventually, air had to return into your lungs.

You blushed harder when you and Kate separated. The heavy breathing between the two of you being the only noise in the room.

Yes, you signed when Kate placed you onto your feet. "You want to go out? With me?" Kate said, knowing you were watching her lips. But maybe she was wrong when she saw you shake your head no.

You moved back a bit as Kate kept her arms around your body.

I want to be your girlfriend.

Kate looked at you, making sure she saw that right. "Girlfriend?!" She asked with a glint of hope. You smiled and brought your lips to hers as you nodded before moving your hands down to hers. Taking them off your body and placing them in yours as you moved them.

You kissed Kate again as she traced her fingers over your left hand, discovering the pinky and index finger were raised. She moved from your index finger down to your extended thumb.

She pulled back and looked at your hand watching it move towards her.

Kate brought her hands up to your face and quickly kissed your lips before she moved onto your cheeks and nose, forcing a giggle out of you.

When she let go of your head, she looked into your eyes and said with an unmistakable smile: "I love you too. I love you so much!"

Kate wrapped you into her arms and held you close before she could feel you patting her back.

When she let go, you smiled and asked: So girlfriends?

Kate nodded.Girlfriends.

A million more questions ran through you as you stood in Kate's arms. But before you could stop yourself, you started with: Oh, and Kate... You laughed and signed to her before continuing. Since I'm dating Hawkeye, do I get a cool name?

Kate laughed back and raised an eyebrow. "Sure! What would you want to be called?"

You tucked your bottom lip into your mouth as you thought. An action making Kate pull your lip out of your mouth with her thumb before bringing it to her lips, almost frying your brain to the point that you nearly didn't say your answer. Bullseye.

"Why is that?"

You shrugged but hid behind an innocent smile. Your eyes briefly darting to Kate's closet before looking back to Kate.

Because I want to be the only thing you can stick your arrow in.

dividers by @/benkeibear

619 notes · View notes

silenzahra · 6 months ago

Text

🌼 A lonely flower 🌼

It turns out today is a very special someone's birthday... 🤭🎂

... Sooo here's my present for my beloved bestie! 😄 Hope you like it, my dear @bberetd, and I'm wishing you the happiest of birthdays! 🥳🎂🎈👏💖

I came up with the idea for this Luaisy fic thanks to two sources of inspiration. The first one was this song that I adore so much and that, to this day, still speaks to me:

youtube

Here's the translation and here are my thoughts about it that ended up giving birth to this story.

And the other thing that was crucial for this fic to come to life was your own Luaisy story, Miraculous shelter, as I thought it worked perfectly well as some sort of follow-up for it. And thus I decided I wanted to surprise you with it, and what better day than today! 🥰 I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it, my dear bestie 🫂💖

As usual I'm posting this on both AO3 and Tumblr! You'll find nods to your story as well as some of my works such as Biggest fear and my post Luigi serenades Daisy. And also a little bit of @vulpixfairy1985's story A moment together as it's becoming customary for me 🤭

Speaking of which, I would like to especially thank my big sister @vulpixfairy1985 as well as @megamagimugi and @itsavee4117 for keeping the secret for so long, and if you're interested in reading this story, I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it as well! 🥰

@pepperycar @teegeeteegee @kimasousparky @artycomicfangirl @mikibaby94 @smokszyvverstar @eleventhhourfactor Hope it's okay that I tag you too in case you'd like to read this fic, but of course it's more than fine if you aren't!

I really hope you enjoy, and as always, likes, kudos, reblogs and comments on either site are more than welcome 💖

🌼 A lonely flower 🌼

When Luigi arrives in Sarasaland to, once again, surprise his beloved princess, whom he misses deeply, he did not expect at all what he was going to find.

He thought it would be almost like the first time he came to visit her unannounced. He thought that, perhaps, he’d find her overwhelmed, maybe even stressed, the light in her eyes, always as bright as a star, dulled by the amount of work that her royal duties force her to do and which, for her, implies a greater effort than for others. Her tireless energy pushes her to be always active, always moving, but her responsibilities as future empress of Sarasaland require that she spends a lot of time sitting still and concentrating on the same task.

It's too much for her.

Still, never in a million years would Luigi have expected to find his vivacious and always cheerful girlfriend crying alone.

For a few moments, Luigi stands in the doorway, paralyzed, his fist inches from the wood, ready to knock. The ajar door gives him a glimpse inside of Daisy, sitting on her bed, shrinking in on herself and trembling slightly, her crown forgotten on the bedside table. Her muffled sobs are like daggers stabbing deep into Luigi's soul, and he’s torn between keeping silent so as not to startle her or rushing to her side and hugging her with all his might. The last thing he wants is to scare her, or to feel like he’s meddling where he’s not wanted, but his most primal instinct, that which is overflowing with love for his Fiore, screams at him to run and allow her to find refuge in his arms.

In the end, as he watches Daisy, with her back to him, cover her face with her hands to try to silence her crying, Luigi decides on an intermediate option. He finally knocks his fist against the door gently as he steps into the room, not without a certain shyness.

“Knock, knock,” he murmurs as he does so, smiling an unsure smile. “May I?”

Despite his attempts not to make too much noise, Luigi witnesses Daisy's slight startle. He sees her clasp her hands against her face and hears her faintly hiccup, and he stands still until she mumbles a soft “Come in.” Despite this, Luigi enters the room slowly, insecurity bubbling in his chest. What if he's making a mistake? What if what Daisy needs is to be alone? What if he is, in effect, meddling where he's not called?

When he's halfway between the door and Daisy's bed, she finally turns to him. Unwillingly, Luigi stops in his tracks as he’s once again paralyzed by the immense sadness dancing in her beautiful blue eyes, reddened from crying, some traces of which still remain on her freckled cheeks. Even so, Daisy tries to mask it all with a smile and, seeing him stop, she gets up to be the one to close the distance between them.

“Sweetie,” she exclaims, and there’s a sincere joy in her voice, but Luigi can perfectly discern the absence of his girlfriend’s characteristic effusiveness that always shines in her tone when she addresses him. “You're here!”

She stretches out her arms to him and Luigi does the same by instinct, clasping in his fingers the hands of his brave princess, who squeezes him back even tighter. Maybe even with a subtle hint of desperation, Luigi would say. He watches her silently, worried, and notices how Daisy tries even harder to hide the fact that, just a few seconds ago, she was crying.

“How come you're here?” she asks, giving him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

“I-I wanted to... surprise you,” Luigi finally says.

He tries to return her smile, but he’s sure that the only thing he’s managed to compose is a twisted and strange grimace.

“Well, you did,” she replies, letting out a chuckle that, despite not sounding fake, doesn't sound entirely authentic either.

It doesn't sound like Daisy.

“Did you bring cake today, too?” she asks before he can add anything.

Luigi takes a few seconds too long to register the information and try to give her an answer.

“N-no, I...”

He blinks, trying hard to focus, and responds as his mind tries to come up with the right way to address the issue Daisy is trying to hide.

“Actually today I was thinking... maybe we could go for a walk? I brought the ukulele.”

“Perfect!”

Daisy lets go and claps her hands in a way that feels somewhat more enthusiastic than usual. Playfully, she slips a hand under Luigi’s hat and ruffles his hair without looking him in the eye as she begins to turn her body to walk towards the door. Luigi, ignoring the fact that his cap is about to fall off, then understands that she’s about to leave without further ado, to continue pretending that she’s fine, that nothing is wrong. For a second he doubts whether he should say something or whether, perhaps, what Daisy needs is a distraction. To stop thinking about whatever has happened and have a nice time to help her cheer up.

But Luigi can't bear the thought that when it's time to say goodbye and his beloved girlfriend is alone again, she'll burst into tears once more and he won't be there to comfort her. From his own experience, he knows that the best thing to do is always to let it all out and keep nothing inside. It's what always works for him, and although he sometimes has a hard time getting Mario to open up, he knows that, like him, his brother also feels much better after expressing his feelings to him.

He may have even more work ahead of him with Daisy than with Mario, but that doesn't mean he's going to give up. He never would. Not with his brother, and not with his girlfriend.

So, with determination and the hat misplaced on his head, Luigi bends down to take his princess's hand gently, thus making her slow down and turn to him again.

“Daisy,” he says, his voice filled with concern, and his brow furrows slightly as he adds in a whisper, “Are you all right?”

For a few seconds, Daisy is silent and only holds his gaze, blue against blue. Luigi waits, ever patient, never pressuring her, but it’s not too long before, in front of his eyes, the beautiful face of his beloved princess crumbles completely.

Luigi's hand suddenly finds itself grasping at air, as Daisy, in one swift movement, brings both hands to her face to hide from him. Luigi can practically touch his fingers to the visible effort she’s making to hold back a sob, which, however, ends up bursting from her mouth, sounding muffled against her palms, though just as heartbreaking.

As soon as he notices Daisy's legs begin to buckle, Luigi rushes to wrap his arms around her and holds her tightly, squeezing her steadily as she falls and letting himself fall with her. Due to the strength of their embrace and the fact that the princess is cowering on herself, there’s a brief moment when Luigi's hat also covers Daisy's auburn head a little, before he removes it altogether and drops it haphazardly, more concerned about his Fiore than his tousled hair.

When their knees reach the ground, Luigi gently places a hand on Daisy's shoulder to pull her to him, and she, in tears, does not resist and lies on his chest. Luigi pulls her close and strokes her hair tenderly, his arms around her like a shield meant to protect her from any harm and create a safe, warm haven only for her.

His heart breaks with every sob that escapes Daisy's system, with every hiccup she emits, with every tear that wells up in her eyes. Luigi holds her tightly as she cries disconsolately in his arms, his left hand rubbing her back slowly, his right hand stroking her hair softly. His beloved princess seems so broken that he can't help but wonder... how could he not have seen this before? How has he been so blind as to not see it coming? Is he such a bad boyfriend that he’s incapable of realizing that his adored Fiore is suffering right in front of his eyes?

The ache in his chest increases, now spiced with guilt, and he deposits a soft kiss on his princess' hair as he notices that a few furtive tears start to flood his eyes. Daisy then pulls a hand away from her face and clutches the fabric of his overalls in her fingers, and the desperation in the gesture, in her voice overwhelmed by grief, in the side of her face that is now visible if he looks down, causes Luigi to squeeze his eyelids tightly and the tears to begin sliding down his cheeks. Daisy's pain is his pain.

She moves the hand she was holding over her face so that it now covers only her eyes. Luigi is then able to place his lips on her forehead in an attempt to comfort her and presses them gently for a few seconds to try to convey calm. His kiss is wet, damp from his own sadness, but he won't let that stop him. Daisy, his Daisy, his favorite flower in this and all universes, needs him, and Luigi is not going to fail her.

For several minutes, the two remain on the floor of the princess' room. Luigi doesn't relax his grip on his girlfriend for a moment, cradling her in his arms with all his affection, his fingers slowly and delicately running through her auburn, messy hair. Daisy, her head pressed to his chest, continues to hide her eyes with one hand while clutching his overalls with the other. She convulses in Luigi's arms from crying, and he, silently wailing, goes on kissing her forehead every few seconds, keeping his lips on her tanned skin for a little longer each time.

His thoughts wander in his head, intermingled with a myriad of feelings that imprison his heart like an ever-tightening claw. Daisy, his Fiore, his sassy, giggly princess, is suffering for something Luigi is not even able to suspect. She, who’s always been there for him, who has often comforted him, who on more than one occasion has followed him with her clothes on her back just to make sure he was all right. She, who has been the umbrella he needed when the downpour in his eyes flowed like a salty river. She, who has stayed by his side when everyone else, always with the exception of Mario, had left, and reminded him of who he is even when he himself had forgotten, encouraging him to wave his flag with pride.

She, who has made a huge place in his heart with all the love and adoration she has for him. She, who has taken over every inch of his body with her overwhelming personality and sparkling energy. She, who pronounces his name as if she were reciting poetry. She, who always makes him feel as if time has stopped every time they are in the same room.

She, who has taken over Luigi's life so much and has become so present in it that it's as if she were hung in every strand of his hair.

She, Daisy, his Fiore... she has been all this time suffering in silence and masking her pain so as not to worry him. Neither he nor his friends, of course. She has kept it all to herself and has only given it free rein once she was alone.

Probably, if Luigi hadn't caught her crying, who knows how much longer she would have kept it up. Maybe, in fact, he’d never have found out. Maybe that's the reason why Luigi didn't need to insist as he does with Mario: because, plain and simple, Daisy couldn't take it anymore.

Luigi sighs as he continues to hug her. And to think that he’s shown up at her home by surprise because the balloons he was giving to a Toad reminded him of her... One was green, his favorite color, and the other one was shiny gold. Exactly like the balloons that had made them float on that magical night when his brother took him to Sarasaland in his Odyssey ship so that he and Daisy could share an enchanting moment together. Seeing those colors blending together as the Toad happily drifted away with his balloons in hand made Luigi experience a sense of suffocating anguish that, as he well knew, could only be cured if he was fortunate enough to behold his beautiful Fiore in front of him once more.

And he’s been able to do so, yes... but the feeling of anguish has only increased in his chest as he found her submerged in such a state of extreme sadness.

He wouldn’t be at all surprised if his princess hated him. He’s been an absolutely horrible and despicable boyfriend. He’s remained oblivious to her pain and hasn’t been able to reciprocate her as she deserves. He’s certainly earned it in spades that Daisy doesn't want to be with him anymore, that she doesn't want to see him again, that she doesn't want to share one more measly second by his side. He’s been completely blind and has failed to measure up.

However, as long as she needs him, he will remain by her side.

Luigi has no idea how much time has passed when he finally notices that the intensity of his girlfriend's sobs begins to subside. Even though the guilt is still tormenting him inside, he feels relief fill him as well, like little gusts of air that grant him a brief respite. Of course he wishes Daisy would let it all out and let nothing stay inside, but that doesn't stop Luigi himself from suffering unspeakably as he holds his broken Fiore in his arms.

Still, he doesn't move. He allows Daisy to catch her breath little by little, at her own pace, and not only does he not alter his position, but he gently presses her head to his chest in a burst of affection. Her hair brushes his ear and tickles him, and Luigi, fearing that this is the last time he’ll have the chance to do so, closes his eyes to enjoy the sensation. He notices that Daisy relaxes a little the fingers with which she still holds his overalls at chest level and is pleasantly surprised when the princess finally takes her other hand away from her face and reaches out to put her arm around his back, so that she’s now hugging him too. Luigi feels his heart calm down somewhat and pulls her a little closer, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. He can't help but smile through his tears when Daisy snuggles a little more against him, seeking the warmth of his embrace, which he doesn't hesitate to bestow on her.

A few more seconds go by in complete silence, calming in each other's arms, until Daisy's voice emerges, shy and muffled.

“I'm sorry,” she mumbles, sounding almost embarrassed.

In response, Luigi kisses her hair again as he holds her tightly.

“There's nothing to be sorry about, Fiore,” he whispers, his voice laden with gentleness.

Daisy squeezes him a little tighter, rubbing her cheek against his chest, as if seeking a more comfortable position, and sighs. Her arm slowly drops from her overalls and passes under his, so that Luigi now feels both of his girlfriend's hands on his back.

“I didn't want you to see me like this,” Daisy confesses in a whisper.

Luigi understands. Even though he’s unable to hold back his emotions, he only feels comfortable expressing them in front of three people, and Daisy is one of them. She makes him feel confident and self-assured in a way he’s never felt with anyone but his brother, though in a different way, of course.

He never hesitates to open up to her when he needs to, because Daisy makes him feel secure, safe and at ease. Maybe... she can open up to him too? Maybe he can make her feel safe too?

Or maybe it's already too late?

“Do you... want to... talk about it?” he offers, unsure.

His hand wavers slightly on her hair as soon as he feels her tensing in his arms. Slowly, Daisy sits up, pulling away from him, though she doesn't quite break contact: as their arms slide down each other's backs and they face each other, she reaches for his hand.

When their fingers meet, they squeeze as if their lives were at stake.

Luigi notices the way Daisy averts her gaze as she purses her lips. She seems to be searching for the right words to start talking. Wanting to comfort her and show her that he’s there for her, ready to listen, Luigi places his other hand on his princess's cheek and gently caresses it, sliding his thumb over her tanned skin to erase the traces of crying and to brush the constellation of freckles that dot her beautiful face. Daisy closes her eyes at the touch and leans her head into his palm, taking a deep breath.

“It's just...” she murmurs, interrupting herself to sigh as she rubs her arm with her other hand. “It's really silly...”

“Daisy.” Luigi gently turns her face so he can look into her regret-laden eyes. “If it makes you cry like that, it's not silly at all.”

His girlfriend's lips pucker slightly before she composes a weak smile, and she pulls her hand away from her arm to rest it on Luigi's, who continues to caress her face with gentleness. He smiles at her too, wanting to convey so much to her in that simple gesture that he doubts he can succeed.

“Luigi, I...” Daisy begins to say and is unable to hold back another sigh. “I feel lonely.”

The smile fades from Luigi's mouth at the simplicity with which she says it. He freezes inside as he understands it all, as he understands the true meaning behind Daisy's crying, behind her words, behind her sadness.

But, before he can take it all in, she continues:

“It's just that...” She shakes her head, distressed. “It's nobody's fault, but even though I go to visit you in the Mushroom Kingdom so often, in the end I always have to come back to Sarasaland. And, yes, I have friends here too,” she hastens to clarify, “but I don't have as close a relationship with any of them as I do with you. It's not the same, you know?”

Oh, yes, Luigi knows. Throughout his life he’s met a lot of people, but with none of them he has been able to establish such a deep connection as the ones he has with his beloved brother Mario, his dear friend Peach and his adored princess Daisy. The three of them are the essential pillars of his life, those who know him best and most deeply, and every time he has to be apart from them, especially his brother or his girlfriend, he suffers to such a degree that anxiety takes over his heart. Exactly as it happened to him the day before.

Still, he lives with Mario. He sees Peach every day. They spend a lot of time together, and also with Toad, and Toadette, and Yoshi, and all the others, and when Daisy has a chance to join them, the joy that brims over him is so great that Luigi feels on top of the highest cloud.

But he had never considered that, while he despairs with every second he has to be separated from his beloved princess, in the end it is she who is the most isolated. She’s not the only one who doesn’t reside in the Mushroom Kingdom, true, but Sarasaland is the farthest away from it. The links between the two countries are complicated and convoluted, needing to use various pipes to get from one place to another, and there’s even a section of the way that must be done by train. It’s never easy or quick for Daisy to visit her friends, which is why she often stays for several days at Peach's castle.

And Luigi suddenly realizes that, perhaps, behind these long stays lies more than just the complexity of getting to the Mushroom Kingdom from Sarasaland.

Perhaps it hides Daisy's need to be accompanied, to spend as much time as possible with her friends, to feel them close and not find herself alone so often. Perhaps it hides a deep desire to be part of a whole, to nurture the connection she shares with the most important people in her life, to try to shake off the feeling of being confined and secluded in her beautiful but distant home.

Unwillingly, Luigi's mind begins to wander in search of possible solutions to soothe his girlfriend's pain and prevent her from ever feeling this way again.

“Of course, this doesn't mean that I blame anyone,” Daisy says suddenly, looking at him worriedly. “It's just a situation that's happened and that's it, and at the end of the day we all have our responsibilities. It's just...” she sighs again, her expression full of dejection. “I can't help feeling this way.”

Luigi watches her silently for a few seconds, saddened to see her so spiritless. He gently squeezes her hand and reaches for the other, grabbing her fingers gently to bring them to his mouth and place a soft kiss on them. Daisy looks up at him as she feels his lips graze her skin, and Luigi gives a weak smile in an attempt to comfort her.

“I understand, Fiore,” he says sincerely. “I understand why you feel this way in these hard circumstances, and I'm sure our friends would understand too. I...” This time it is he who sighs, and he blushes slightly as he admits: “The truth is that I had never taken a moment to think about it, and I apologize for that. I'm really sorry I didn't see it before, Daisy.”

The eyes of his princess are covered with tenderness at the frankness that oozes from each of Luigi's words, and this time she’s the one who gives him a gentle squeeze on his fingers. Only her sweet smile and the infinite affection that emanates from her blue gaze are enough to somewhat relieve the guilt that has clung to Luigi's heart.

“But I'm here now,” he adds, squeezing his hands. “And I hope I can help you find a solution so that this doesn't happen again.”

Daisy's smile becomes sad and even a little bitter.

“Luigi, I...” She remains silent for a few seconds trying to find the right words. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I’m well aware that there’s no solution to this problem. I just have to... learn to live with it,” she concludes, shrugging in resignation. “Learn to live with the fact that Sarasaland, my beautiful and beloved home, is... lonely. And that's it.”

Luigi can't help but raise an eyebrow. It's not at all like Daisy to give up. He stares at her for a few moments, confusion painted on his face, but, before he can find something to say, Daisy adds:

“I admit that at times I’ve considered... leaving.”

“Leaving?” Luigi repeats, puzzled.

“Sarasaland” she explains, smiling with remorse. “Go live in the Mushroom Kingdom, or Tostarena, or even the Beanbean Kingdom. Any of those places would bring me closer to all of you. But...” she adds, sighing again, her tone full of melancholy. “I could never leave Sarasaland. It’s not only my home, but also my empire. Someday I’ll rule over its four kingdoms, and I love each of them and their different cultures with all my heart. Anyway,” she continues after a few seconds of silence, and gives him a rueful smile. “I suppose I’ll always be at a great crossroads. But honestly, being aware of it doesn't make it any easier.”

She ducks her head, exhaling for the umpteenth time. Everything in her gestures, in her expression, in her posture, screams how dejected she really feels, and Luigi just looks at her wordlessly. What can he add to what his Fiore has just confessed to him? He would never have imagined that this desire was buried deep in the heart of his princess, but he can't say he blames her. After all, isn't he incapable of going more than a whole day without seeing Mario? What must it be like for her to go for weeks at a time without being able to see all of her friends?

Luigi feels a physical pain in his chest just thinking about it.

“Besides,” Daisy goes on after a few seconds in which Luigi hasn't been able to find anything he can say to comfort her, “honey, while I appreciate your desire to help me, it's not your job to solve my problems.” She caresses his cheek with affection and Luigi can read in her eyes that she really is grateful. “It wouldn't be a healthy relationship if I expected that from you.”

“I know,” Luigi assures her, “but it is my job to be here for you, Daisy. I know...” he adds, shame flooding his insides, “I've been a terrible boyfriend not realizing sooner that you were in pain...”

“Luigi, honey,” Daisy interrupts him, gently placing her finger on his lips. “You haven't been. I didn't want you to see me like this, remember? You and I...” As she lowers her hand, another sigh escapes her mouth. “We don't spend enough time together. And when I'm with you, I want to make the most of every second. I didn't want to... waste it like this.”

“Daisy, il mio bellissimo Fiore...”

Luigi cups her face in his hands and leans towards her, yearning owning his every move. Daisy's warm forehead soon meets his, and he closes his eyes for a few seconds as he soaks in the touch, trying to hold on to it to calm his frantic thoughts. Daisy is silent and rests her hands on his arms, and Luigi clutches desperately at every point where his body and his princess' are touching, however lightly, to try to mitigate the grief that grips his soul.

“It's not a waste,” he says after a few seconds, whispering and panting slightly,. “It never is, I promise. It's... it's a lesson I've struggled to learn, but expressing how we truly feel and asking for help is never a waste, much less a weakness.”

He feels how Daisy clings to his arms a little tighter, and when he opens his eyes, he notices that she’s pursing her lips in a clear attempt not to burst into tears again.

“Luigi, I...” she mumbles in a strangled voice, “I don't want to be a burden...”

Luigi's heart shrinks in his chest.

“You're not!” he assures her, running his thumbs over her cheeks and pressing his forehead harder against hers. “Daisy, you're my girlfriend and I... I adore you.”

His confession causes Daisy's eyelids to flutter open, and Luigi pulls away from her so he can look into her eyes. He finds them shimmering with tears about to be shed, and though he, too, feels shaken and broken inside, he tries hard to smile. His knees hurt, but he pays them no heed.

“Daisy, being your boyfriend has helped me grow as a person,” he says, opening his heart completely to her. “You've made me love myself more and feel braver and more confident. You’ve been there for me when I needed you, you’ve never let me down, you’ve always supported me... Daisy,” he adds, looking at her intensely, “you’ve made my life so much better.”

And yet he’s been so blind... His beautiful flower, so lonely and isolated from everyone, like a mermaid spat out by the sea who suddenly finds herself lying on the sand, not knowing what to do or who to turn to....

It breaks his soul just to imagine it.

“I love you very much,” he continues, piercing her with his gaze, “and I’d give anything to have been able to spare you all this suffering and to find a way for you to see us more often without having to give up your home. Never, do you hear me? You could never be a burden, Daisy, because I want everything with you. The good and the bad. The joys and the sorrows. The moments of fun and the moments of crying in each other's arms. Sharing our jokes and wiping away each other’s tears. You” he emphasizes, sliding a hand down her face to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “are everything to me. Everything,” he insists, “and I will always be here for you, no matter what.”

Luigi concludes his speech by leaning down to place a kiss on Daisy's cheek, which he finds wet and salty, but he doesn't care. He himself has also burst into tears at some point while speaking, though now he can only smile. He feels as if his heart is glowing in his chest, glistening and full of all the love he feels for his princess. She just looks at him for a few moments, her face the spitting image of surprise, her tanned cheeks drenched, until, with a gasp, she throws herself at him and hides her head in his chest.

And Luigi takes her in his arms once again and offers her comfort and protection.

This time, Daisy cries in a calm manner. Her sobs are not so desperate, and her voice does not sound so heartbroken, although Luigi feels her clinging to him with even more energy, as if for nothing in the world she’d want to be separated from him. The plumber squeezes her in his arms with all his might and begins to sing in her ear the Italian lullaby with which his grandmother used to rock him and Mario as babies, and which Daisy has come to adore with all her soul. He intones the melody in a soft whisper as, again, he slides his hand up and down his princess' beautiful hair, and his heart dances as he notices that Daisy's crying, slowly but surely, almost at the same pace as the soft cadence of the lullaby, simmers down.

Neither of them moves, however. They remain in each other's arms, eyes closed, and Luigi feels Daisy's hand beginning to move down his back as well, drawing random scribbles with her fingers. He can't help but smile, a pleasant warmth filling his chest, and he then begins to fiddle with his Fiore's auburn locks, as soft as silk and as radiant as an autumn forest. When he gently clasps Daisy's body in his arms, she returns the squeeze without hesitation.

Relieved to see that she’s feeling better, more serene and relaxed, lying against him quietly and enjoying his company, Luigi sits down on the floor to give his knees a rest as he thinks again about why she broke down crying in the first place. There has to be something he can do to help her, to fix her situation even a little bit. What if...?

“You know what I'm thinking of?” he starts to say as an idea forms in his mind. “Maybe next time I come to see you I'll bring Mario and Peach with me.”

“Really?” Luigi can almost touch the excitement in Daisy's voice as, without turning away from him, she replies, “And will you and Peach bake a cake again?”

Luigi lets out a giggle, amused.

“Just for you, Fiore,” he promises, and adds: “We could organize a picnic in the gardens of your castle.”

“Well...” Daisy doesn't sound as convinced as he expected. “It's not a bad idea, but you know that this area of Sarasaland is not a very green place. It might be too hot.”

“Hm.” Luigi purses his lips thoughtfully. Daisy is right. “Then...” he says, slowly, and snaps his fingers as soon as a better idea comes to his mind, “How about a party inside your castle? It would be the perfect setting for one of our turn-based games!”

“That...” Daisy replies quietly, weighing it, and unhurriedly sits up to look him in the face. Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. “That would be great!” she exclaims, her voice turning into a high-pitched squeal, and she grabs him by the shoulders as she shakes him vigorously. “Besides, the castle would be full of people! Because of course,” she adds, putting one hand to her chest and raising the other with her index finger outstretched, “you'd all be more than welcome to stay over for several days.”

Luigi laughs heartily, thrilled to see that his girlfriend's effusiveness, which he missed so much, has returned stronger than ever.

“Are you sure that’s an invitation and not an obligation?” he replies jokingly.

“I can always make it a law,” Daisy resolves, putting her hands on her hips.

Her answer, as it usually happens, makes Luigi laugh. How he loves to see his beloved princess teasing again. Feeling incredibly giggly and relieved, he reaches for her hands and eagerly shakes them.

“I bet they'll all be more than delighted to stay.”

“Are you sure?” Despite her poise, Daisy hesitates, “They've never stayed here before... They might not like Sarasaland, and besides, the one who understands diplomacy is Peach...”

“And she will gladly help you,” Luigi assures her. “She, Mario, me and all the others will help you with everything you need! And by the way, I'm sure they'll love Sarasaland. It's a very beautiful land. Just like you.”

He taps her tiny nose gently and Daisy lets out a giggle and puts a hand to her mouth rather coquettishly, her cheeks a bit flushed.

“If you continue telling me that, I’ll end up believing it,” she says playfully, and nudges him gently on the shoulder. “Love has clearly clouded your judgment.”

“Not at all, Fiore,” he replies, placing his hands on her hips. “I'm just stating the facts. You should believe it, 'cause it's the truth.”

They stare at each other in rapture for a few seconds, Daisy's hands on Luigi's shoulders. She strokes his cheek with one finger as she tangles the other in his chocolate-colored curls. Luigi realizes that he’s fallen under the spell of his princess' eyes, now, at last, as full of life and wit as he remembered them. And just as beautiful and deep as ever.

“You know what I think?” Daisy then says, moving a little away from him, and Luigi blinks to snap out of her enchantment. “I’m sure Peach would definitely melt if your brother said something like that to her.”

“Of course,” Luigi nods, convinced.

He's very tempted to point out that she's melted too, and that it only makes him melt even more in love with her, but Daisy continues speaking before he has a chance to form the words in his mouth.

“Do you think that, at this party, your brother and Peach will finally... do something to confess their obvious feelings for each other?” asks the princess, curiosity shining in her face.

Luigi is unable to contain the snort that comes from deep within his lungs.

“Honestly? I doubt it very much,” he answers without hesitation. “I've lost count of the times I've tried to get those two together, and there's been no way. It's surprising how blind they are when it's so obvious to everyone that they adore each other!”

Daisy lets out a giggle.

“It really is surprising, isn't it?” she says. “That they can't see how much they want each other.”

“Indeed.” Luigi nods convincingly.

“Maybe it would take another one of your delicious cakes for Mario to finally realize it,” Daisy suggests casually, giving him a meaningful look.

Luigi knows very well what those words hide, as well as the mischievous expression on his girlfriend's face. He loves to see her like that, of course, but, although his mind starts to imagine delicious cakes with which Peach could surprise Mario and from which, of course, Daisy would unhesitatingly steal a piece, he prefers to keep his idea for the future... for the time being.

“And how could we make Peach open her eyes too?” he asks instead.

This may be a game between him and Daisy that he's dying to keep playing, but Luigi genuinely wants to help his friend and his brother, and he knows Daisy does too. The feeling of hanging out with the person you've been in love with for so long, of being able to touch and kiss and hold them in your arms freely, is absolutely wonderful, heavenly even. And he sincerely wishes that Mario and Peach could experience it in each other's arms.

“Hmm...” Daisy puts a finger to her lips, thoughtfully. “Maybe with a nice bouquet of her favorite flowers? You and I could help them with that.”

She winks at him knowingly and Luigi laughs, his heart fluttering in his chest, light as a butterfly.

“Yes... It could work,” he admits, really liking the idea.

“Heh!” Daisy gives a proud smile, showing all her teeth. “Looks like I’ll have to take action in the end so that these two end up together. Maybe my ideas aren’t that bad after all!”

She places a finger on his shoulder in an accusatory manner, which, coupled with the way her tone of voice has risen as she spoke, gets another laugh out of Luigi.

“No offense, Fiore,” he says humorously, gently taking her hand, “but your ideas are usually pretty... crazy.”

“Crazy?” Daisy repeats, holding a hand to her chest with horror painted on her face. The way she pretends to be tremendously offended is so comical that Luigi snorts. “Need I remind you that you’re talking to a princess, sir?”

Immediately, Luigi has to force himself to hold back his laughter and tries his best to compose a serious and grave expression. He places his arm on his stomach, closes his eyes and slightly bends his upper body, which is not easy considering that he’s still sitting on the floor.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” he pronounces as solemnly as he can.

This time it is Daisy who lets out a snort, much louder than the one he emitted seconds before.

“Oh, you think you're funny, huh?”

Before Luigi even has time to sit up again, he feels that Daisy lets go of his hand and takes it and the other one to his belly, where she begins tickling him with all her energy. Luigi starts laughing hysterically before his brain even manages to register what’s happening, and his thunderous laughter mixes with Daisy's, which is no less loud. Squirming from the tickling and trying, unsuccessfully, to grab his girlfriend's hands to stop her, Luigi ends up falling backwards, so that he’s lying on the ground with his Fiore on top of him.

At that moment, luckily, his princess seems to take pity on him and quits the attack. Luigi still hears her laughing as he tries to catch his breath with watery eyes, although, this time, they’re dampened for a very different reason. Opening them, he finds Daisy leaning over him, watching him with a mischievous glint in her eye and biting her lower lip.

She’s so beautiful that he feels a sudden urge to kiss her.

Smiling, still panting, Luigi raises a hand to caress her cheek. Daisy places her hands on either side of his head, and his heart almost leaps out of his chest as he realizes that she’s getting closer and closer.

When they’re very close, their noses almost touching, Luigi feels his girlfriend's fingers beginning to play with his hair once again. The naughty expression remains on her face, and a new giggle escapes her mouth before she finally breaks the distance between them.

The passion with which Daisy presses her lips against his makes Luigi break into a rapt smile before, at last, he can reciprocate her kiss. He does it with delight, as he does every time they kiss, unable to get enough of her taste, and he doesn't separate from her until he feels her laugh warmly against his mouth.

“I love you, Luigi,” Daisy says to him, staring into his eyes.

There it is again: the way she pronounces his name as if it were pure poetry. Her eyes still sparkle playfully, but her voice sounds firm and confident, with no trace of mockery. Luigi gives her the widest of his smiles and, once again, brushes a lock of hair back from her beautiful, beaming face.

“I love you too, Daisy.”

They kiss once more just as eagerly, Daisy still laughing in his mouth, Luigi catching that jovial joy he missed so much. With the same enthusiasm, Daisy sits up and pulls him close as she begins to beg him to please pick up his ukulele and play something for her, and Luigi, always willing to do anything to see her happy, hurries to find his instrument and sits back down in front of her.

He couldn't be happier to be here and now, with his Daisy, his Fiore, enjoying her company and plucking notes on his ukulele to express all the love he feels for her and how important she is in his life. As he sings, however, all that has just happened comes back to him, and Daisy's smiling face, the thrill with which she watches him as he plays for her, fills him with a fierce determination that makes him want to do everything in his power to protect her from harm.

He may not be able to change the situation his Fiore is in. He may not hold the key to making everything better for her. It may be something beyond his control.

But there is something he can do to keep his princess from ever feeling lonely again. Something he can do to be with her and keep her company even when he’s not physically by her side.

He’s going to write her a song.

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wahbegan · 2 months ago

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Weapons: Various Clues And Maybe a Theory?

The trailers have actually done a good job not really revealing shit, so i'd like to clarify i could be completely wrong about everything and probably sound like a fucking insane person, but here we go anyway

2:17 AM: Whenever a horror movie draws attention to a date or time like this, i immediately go to the Bible for references. Obviously, there's like 60+ books in the Bible, but one that stands out is Genesis 2:17, which happens to be the passage where God warns Adam and Eve that if they eat of the fruit of knowledge, they will surely die.

In the dream sequence, or at least what's edited to look like a dream sequence, of Ms. Gandy walking in to find all the kids playing evil heads up 7 up or whatever, the lesson on the board behind her is about various parasites. Which seems both ominous and definitely not something i learned in 3rd grade

The quick shots from the trailer are hard to parse but seem to include: some generic evil black liquid being vomited into a dude's open mouth (always a classic), someone stepping over what seems to be a circle of salt, some guy running down the street with the airplane arms and getting splattered by a truck, someone lighting themselves on fire, and a woman stabbing herself in the face with a fork. The most interesting ones are what looks like Principal Benedict Wong smashing the window of Gandy's car with a fucked-up looking face and the entire crowd of kids smashing through the windows of a building and chasing someone.

Okay, so that is basically nothing to go on, BUT: could be a glorified infection-type movie. You know how there are parasites that change host behavior and make them go certain places and do certain things? Yeah, so possible this one class was somehow exposed to some kind of mind-altering parasite that ends up spreading throughout the town, hence the unhinged adult behavior.

Could be an infection of supernatural origin, but i do not know. Based on Barbarian, I'd say he's probably more likely to go the magical realism route of like "i mean technically i guess it COULD happen" rather than the supernatural route, HOWEVER. Salt circles are a tool as old as time for keeping demons/evil spirits out of dwellings, so that is evidence of a supernatural presence, or at least someone believing it is.

Anyway, all of this may or may not involve some little shit, maybe Josh Brolin's kid since he gets so much focus, partaking of some metaphorical forbidden fruit type shit, but that's by far my weakest connection so

#Weapons 2025 #Zach Cregger #oh hey maybe they're going full Resident Evil and it's some kind of bio-weapon that accidentally got out #that would explain the title #the reference on the ARG website to a previous incident at Ms. Gandy's school seems important #but idk how it would fit in and it IS possible it's just a red herring and/or reason for the town to witch hunt her

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blossom-hwa · 1 year ago

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the words I say, and the words I mean | h.k

pairing: Huening Kai x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff, a touch of angst, high school!au, childhood best friends to lovers!au warnings: cursing word count: 2.5k notes: this was originally a story for jay written for chip as a lovely birthday present, I've repurposed it for hyuka because I think he'd fit the lovely lovestruck trope just as well :) hope you enjoy! On a cool golden afternoon on the cusp of winter, Kai falls for you again.

Jay (Enhypen) Ver. | TXT Masterlist

At precisely five fifty-three on a Friday afternoon of a crisp fall-turning-winter day, Kai comes to this conclusion:

He says a lot of shit.

Which, in hindsight, any of his friends could have probably told him. Taehyun for certain—and Beomgyu too just by virtue of him being a paragon of evil or something. But there’s that whole saying about having to realize things about oneself by oneself, or whatever, because you’ll never listen to anyone else, not for real.

Or maybe there isn’t a saying. Maybe someone just told him that and he’s remembering it now.

Doesn’t matter. The point is, Kai walks into the coffee shop where you work at exactly five fifty-two pm on this wonderful Friday afternoon in the crisp intersection between fall and winter where the sun is beginning to set noticeably earlier but not so much so that it fucks up his entire brain, locks eyes with you behind the counter, and says:

“Hey, doofus.”

Which is certainly a substitute—if not a very good one—for what he says in his brain:

You look really beautiful in this lighting, and I kind of want to kiss you.

You roll your eyes and it’s still beautiful, somehow, in the golden afternoon sunlight spilling through the cafe window, and once again Kai is reminded of how hard he’s fallen for every single bit of you—the childhood best friend who lives next door, who’s seen him from his grubby little toddler days to his ratty pre-teen years to his ungodly mess of existence in this last year before college. You’ve seen everything about him, he’s seen everything about you, and if Kai hadn’t realized it before (a year ago, you fell asleep in the passenger seat as he was driving the two of you home from school and he got a slap of cold reality from God Herself when he looked over to see drool trickling down the side of your face and the first thing he thought was cute) he’d certainly realize it now, at five fifty-two pm on a Friday afternoon at the cusp of fall-turning-winter where the sunlight shines so warm on your half-annoyed, half-fond expression that Kai can proudly say is reserved solely for him.

But it’s kind of like a second realization of love, he guesses. Because apparently once wasn’t enough. And it comes in the form of him calling you a doofus when he just really wants to kiss you instead.

He really, really says a lot of shit. More specifically, a lot of shit he doesn’t mean. Mostly because you don’t know how he feels, and he’s too scared to ask if you might feel the same way.

“Good afternoon to you too, doofus,” you snip, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter. He hands you the exact amount for the drink like clockwork because it’s a routine at this point, and then, also in routine, he eyes it exaggeratedly.

“There’s no poison in this, is there?”

There it is. Again. There’s no poison in this, is there?

How about this instead:

Thanks for the drink, I really love you.

You roll your eyes again and he has to curb the smile on his face, in case it betrays the way his heart is pounding in his chest like it does a lot these days at the sight of you. “No, asshole,” you intone. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d make sure there was blood.”

“Aw, so you don’t want to kill me?”

I’d probably let you stab me for free.

“I’m waiting for the right time.” You snicker. “You know, Beomgyu already offered to help me hide the body.”

Kai would respond, and if he did he’d probably say something equally dumb that he didn’t really want to say because his heart keeps screaming for him to tell the truth of his emotions but his mind keeps telling it to shut the fuck up, but the door opens again with a little ring of bells and even though it’s now five fifty-four pm, six minutes from the end of your shift, six minutes are still six minutes and he’ll have to wait those six minutes to walk you home.

Your manager’s a bitch.

So he parks himself at a table, idly scrolling through his phone while sipping at the bitter Americano you gave him (perfect for keeping him somewhat awake for the late night studying that will definitely happen tonight), and also sneaking glances at you when he’s more or less certain you’re busy. He does good today, doesn’t manage to get caught staring even once before you disappear into the back, presumably to strip off your apron and clock out.

Soobin sends him about five cat pictures in the several minutes it takes for you to change. Kai giggles into his drink and hearts them all right before a shadow looms over his seated figure.

“What’re you laughing at?”

In response, he lifts his phone and watches a smile bloom across your face at the cat pictures. “They’re adorable,” you coo.

Kai’s brain reacts before his mouth does, which sucks because it only gives further proof to his realization earlier which he’d kinda hoped was a fluke but was pretty sure it wasn’t.

So are you.

He doesn’t say that, because he doesn’t have the guts. “Yeah, if only I could convince my parents to get one,” he pouts instead, pocketing the phone. “Let’s go home.”

The bells above the door chime merrily as the two of you walk out into the golden sunshine, a subtle warmth that curls even through the sharp bites of wind that nip at his nose and cheeks. When winter comes with its snow and ice, you’ll switch to taking the car home—him driving over to pick you up instead of walking in the snow—so he cherishes the walks for now, a bit of peace and calm in the silence of the neighborhood air.

Well, not exactly peace and calm. Because the two of you are best friends, and so you bicker, and most of that bickering gets pretty loud and your neighbors probably hate you both even if they haven’t said it out loud yet, but to Kai it feels peaceful anyway. Calming. A breath of fresh air, a moment in which he can forget about the stress of school and college applications and just focus on being here with you.

You’re telling him a story about work today, gesticulating wildly as you reenact some woman telling you that her drink wasn’t frothy enough, that she expected two full fucking inches of froth so you’d better shake it again or remake it. Kai laughs, and cackles, and commiserates when you say you’d like to hunt her down and put her six feet under, and all the time his heart feels like it’s blooming, blooming under not the sun itself but the light of your smile as you laugh with him.

Like a sunflower, he thinks. A sunflower, always chasing the sun across the sky.

Holy shit, Yeonjun’s poetry is rubbing off on him. This is terrible.

And then you laugh again, this brilliant sound that’s like a cross between a pig’s snort and wedding bells, and yeah. Okay. Whatever. Maybe Yeonjun’s poetry is fine. Because at least it’s getting things right.

“I never want to work in the food industry again,” you complain, shaking your head. Your scarf seems to be slipping around your neck and Kai’s fingers itch to rearrange it, but he keeps his hands to himself because you’ll notice it, right? You’ll notice the slipping scarf instead and then he won’t have to risk having you feel the tenderness in his fingers that isn’t supposed to be there because he’s only supposed to be your best friend, not someone who has a crush on you. “All the horror stories are so real.”

“Okay, but have you considered...” He pauses dramatically as you look at him, eyebrows raised. “Maybe you’re the problem.”

“Kai Kamal Huening—”

“If everything’s happening to you, I’m just saying, maybe there’s some correlation there—”

You punch him in the arm. Hard.

He wails.

“Oh my God, you fucking baby,” you hiss, all the while also holding your sides that are shaking with laughter as Kai flops to the ground, gripping his arm like you just attempted to cut it off. Good. Because he’s exaggerating, clearly, but only for your sake—so you can laugh. Just a bit. Enough to bring light back to your face that isn’t just from the sun.

“You punched me,” he whines, “and you’re calling me a baby?”

I’d let you punch me any day. And if I deserved it, I’d probably punch myself in the face, too. For you.

He’s going insane, he really fucking is, with the disconnect between the shit he says and the shit he wants to say. But the banter comes so easily, too easily—maybe that’s the reason why he can’t speak the words buried in his heart. Because it’s so much easier, so much simpler, to just pretend. To just bicker his way out of ever revealing anything to you.

“Oh my God, just shut up.” You haul him up and—holy shit, maybe he’s just some Victorian woman in disguise or whatever because he could swoon into your touch. He really could. But he doesn’t, because even to his dumbfuck lovesick heart, that’s overkill. “Come on, punch me. We’ll call it even.”

Kai stares at the arm you proffer to him, covered in the coat you’ve worn for several years at this point. He doesn’t know why, but for a moment, he can’t move. Can’t bring himself to.

Which is dumb as fuck. Because this is a thing you two have always done, jokingly hit each other at one point and when the other complains loud enough to cause a neighborhood ruckus, let them hit back to call it even. It started with your first fight as kids and it just...stayed. Until now. At this moment at sometime past six pm on a Friday evening, now, on a crisp fall-turning-winter day where wind has mostly carried away the coffee smell from your job and Kai is having a crisis about punching your arm.

But he has to do it. So—

He punches you.

Very softly.

Nothing at all like you punched him.

You blink. So does he.

“What the fuck was that, dude?” You narrow your eyes at him playfully, though something uncertain dances in your gaze. Alarm bells start ringing at full force in his brain—fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—“Are you going soft?”

He’s looking at you and you’re looking at him and a gust of wind blows the scarf around your neck and fuck you still haven’t noticed that it’s loose and he wants nothing more than to grab it and fix it so you won’t get too cold but he can’t, now, because he’s already revealed too much by not punching you the way you (and he!) expected and the uncertainty is still there in your expression and FUCK he needs to say something, he needs to say something—

No, it’s because I like you so much it hurts.

“No, it’s because you’re weak and you wouldn’t be able to handle a real punch.”

You screech and Kai screams and then you’re chasing him down the block, one fist held high as you yell something like I’ll give you a real fucking punch to whine about and even as he runs away from you he can hear the laughter in your voice even as you spout bloody murder and promises of revenge behind him, your screams blending with his gasping laughter as he stops, sides heaving with cackles, and you bowl him onto the cold sidewalk that still feels warm, somehow, warm with your giggles as you slap him in the shoulder, threats of violence still dripping from your lips—

“I give up,” he gasps, tears squeezing out of his eyes as he tries to stop laughing. “I give up.”

In other words:

I’ll let you win, always, because your happiness means everything to me.

You collapse to the ground beside him on the cold concrete, and there has never been anything more beautiful, Kai thinks, than the medley of your cackling laugh fading in the air and your expression scrunched in giggling happiness as you sit up to face him. “Good,” you sniff, eyes sparkling in the fading sunlight. “Glad you know your place.”

Kai watches you stand, then extend a hand to help him up. His eyes linger on that hand, the hand he held so much as a kid, the hand he stopped holding in middle school because it’s icky and we aren’t dating, the hand he’s wanted to hold for several years now and even more so since last year when he saw you drooling in the car and thought you were so, so cute. He reaches up, takes it, and in the moment where your palms are connected, his heart aches, aches so much for him to just say—

I love you.

But you let go of his hand, still smiling, so oblivious to the way his heart sags and cracks with the weight of those three words he can’t say as the warmth of your palm leaves his, and he knows—it isn’t meant to be, you loving someone as ratty and messy and damaged as he. You’re best friends. Nothing less, but certainly nothing more.

So he leaves the words in his overflowing heart, locks them away with a cold key made of the sudden absence of your hand’s warmth against his. “Come on,” he says instead, smiling the crooked smile that you always say makes him look like a stupid little rugrat on the streets. But he gets the patented Kai Kamal Huening smile on your face in return, annoyance and exasperation and fondness all mixed into an expression that nearly explodes the box where he keeps those three words, eight letters, carefully locked away, so it can’t be too bad. Not really. Not if it gets him the sunlight of your smile on your face.

Nothing’s so bad, really, not even the weight of all the words he means but can’t say, not when you smile at him like this under the shimmering golden sunlight of a fall-turning-winter evening, not when the two of you are alone in the street glowing warm with laughter, not when it feels like nothing in the world can tear the two of you apart. It’s enough, really. Having you here, and knowing you’ll always be here, even if it means keeping secrets locked carefully away in his heart.

“Come on,” he repeats, and his smile isn’t even that strained as he jerks his head towards the end of the street. “The sun’s setting. Let’s get home.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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giantbonfirestars · 4 months ago

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Analysis (+Headcanons/theories) I have based on this video

So it's already made abundantly clear that this is centered around Season 4 Emerald Secret

And I am very certain that this is what Aphmau experienced while under the effects of the Forever potion.

She could, somewhat, hear things going on in the real world. Whether it be Aaron's voice or her own voice. Plus there were the occasional visions of what was going on.

And even when she didn't see it, she knew what was going on out there too. Which we see in the prison scene when Aphmau comes across Aaron locked away in the prison cell.

This would also explain why Aaron disappeared immediately after. Because Aaron is not in this little Limbo world. He can't do anything there because he is not there. That was simply an image conjured up by Aphmau's mind, or possibly the world itself as a form of playing tricks on her mind.

It also follows along with what was already confirmed back in Season 4 about those under the effects of a potion being aware of what was really happening.

My specific theory/headcanon is that this is a sort of limbo like world where anyone under the effects of the forever potion goes. Or at least the mindcontrol kind (aka not the type used on Tatiana). Which is also why we see Zane and a few other people there.

Zane was very clearly for a long time to the point where he was forgetting things and isn't quite sure how long he was there other than the fact that it had been a while. And Zane was the first person of the three that season to be put under the effects of the forever potion. He was under the effects for a couple days.

The whole wife and kids thing? Well the kid did say that she actually doesn't have a dad. Maybe it was just Zane's imagination trying for some last attempt, desperate grasp at something that could be considered normal before he lost his mind entirely?

(I'd also like to think that when he was knocked unconscious it helped break down some of those walls keeping him from reality which is where we get that scene of him and Garroth in the woods until he is cured and freed which is why we don't ever see him again after that in this video.)

Then there were also the other people who we could see wandering around the place. They are people also under the effects of a forever potion, just not the one's be Ein of course. Peebs/Ollie (the blonde guy) was acting deranged, the same way Zane was starting to, so he was likely there for a long time as well. Probably even longer. Even the kid was acting a bit crazed. And slowly as the video went on, Aphmau started to act a bit more crazy-like and forget things as well.

Then what is very clearly people all zipped up and crawling around like monsters?

People who have already been fully affected by the forever potion. Once the effect becomes permanent, this is what becomes of them. When they are free and moving around, they are still technically able to escape if they are able to figure it out. But like this they are confined. They slowly lose themselves until they break, leaving themselves permanently trapped.

It is made very clear throughout the video that Aphmau is under the effects of the forever potion as well since, not only is she hearing things from only when she was under during Emerald Secret, but also when she looked in the mirror her eyes were green for a moment. Another peek at reality.

We see multiple of these peaks at reality. The voices. The green eyes. The snow. The bandana. The jacket. Every single scene on the mountain where she sees Aaron for a moment but not herself.

This is also clearly happening to the other people. For example when we see the stabbed man hanging out of the fridge and Peebs/Ollie is acting a bit crazy again trying to claim his innocence. I honestly think that's someone he unwillingly killed due to the forever potion.

There is still of course the possibility that this is all centered around Aphmau's consciousness and not a joint limbo. For example the kid constantly accusing Aphmau of hurting someone, being a monster. Peebs/Ollie attempting to stab her using a knife eerily similar to the one she stabbed Aaron with.

I still like to think that it is a joint limbo. But it is a place meant to torture them, even if it means torturing each other. Which is why they seemed to act one way one moment and then act differently another.

Besides, doesn't the whole walking around an abandoned place, places involving/tied to Aaron, places that feel strangely familiar, remind you of anything?

Once Aphmau reached the island that was laid out like the woods and cabin she traveled while under Ein's control, her outfit is changed to look like the one from Season 4 Emerald Secret. Another bit of reality bleeding through.

And as these blips of reality bleed through, they all pile on top of one another. She's in the clothes she changed into, her eyes are green, she's in the cabin and by the cliff side, she has the knife, she's hunting down looking for Aaron. The door even gets destroyed by the monster to the exact same way it was when Aphmau kicked Aaron through it back in season 4. Aaron backing up towards the edge as Aphmau gets closer.

And then she sees herself.

Everything has aligned perfectly and reality is clear again. No more blips, no more possibilities, just what was really happening this entire time.

We are confirmed that Aphmau is in some sort of mindscape when we see Forever Potion Aphmau point to her head and say "You've always been here. Right here."

Then of course we get the whole "In this world he never came back. Did he?"

So this version she sees. This is not technically her. This is a version of Aphmau where Irene never saved Aaron, where she was trapped with Ein forever. She became one of the monsters.

My theory that this what original Aphmau saw still stands despite this major lore drop at the very end. The version of Aphmau we've been watching is both of these women the difference comes at the end, when they are finally two separate people. The Aphmau we see through the eyes of continues on and is freed. The other Aphmau is trapped forever.

This version still exists even after Aphmau is freed. We see it in Season 6 When Angels Fall when Micheal reactivates that magic.

Because a forever potion isn't meant to be cured or broken out of. It is meant to last FOREVER. This version of Aphmau will always exist now. The two will forever share a mind. Only now they have traded places. One living her life freely in the outside world. The other trapped in her own mind.

Sorry if this doesn't make any sense, I'm not quite sure how to explain all of my thoughts

#Aphmau #mystreet #mystreet aphmau #aphmau mystreet #analysis #headcanon #theories #mystreet emerald secret #forever potion #mystreet season 4 #emerald secret

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madam-whim · 3 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

tagged by @labskeever, @sulphuricgrin and @moriche - thank you!

This time, I have another snippet from the next Martinhok chapter. It's a scene I've been struggling with for ages; Arri with her sudden mood shifts and reactions is insanely difficult to write. I hope it's somewhat enjoyable to read, still!

I'm tagging @pinessydr, @lilarus, @illumiera, @elavoria, @yansurnummu, @graveofcalaxes and @bostoniangirl21 - as always, no pressure! And also I'm tagging everyone who might want to share something! (Let me know if you want me to add you to my list - currently I don't tag people whose posts I've already seen, but that's an easy fix. I also might start preparing the WIPs in advance since I'm always super late on this - being European and starting work at 7am will do that to you.)

Lost in thought as he was, he nearly noticed it too late – the subtle shift in Arri’s stance, the only warning before she launched herself forward as if to strike Jauffre. By the time he realized what she was about to do, he could do nothing but stumble after her and reach out in an attempt to hold her back, just to prevent the worst. It was a good thing that he did, too, because Jauffre stared at the chaos surrounding them, hands shaking and eyes casting about wildly, as if there were answers to be found in the items strewn across the room. He would never have reacted in time to defend himself or step out of the way, not that Martin could really blame him, or Arri for losing her temper. He felt her trembling as his arms went around her waist to hold her back from attacking Jauffre, felt how tense she was. She’d been hanging on by a thread for days, and even Jauffre would have to admit that she was right – he should have let her keep the Amulet, or at the very least found a better hiding spot for it. But then, how could Jauffre have known to anticipate this? How had the cultists even found out about the Amulet’s location? Had Arri been tracked when she first made her way to the priory, as she had certainly done when she’d delivered the damn thing? Assuming she’d been as worried about being followed as she’d been on their way here, she wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. Or had it been someone else who’d given them away, perhaps another Blade coming to get new orders? Not that it mattered now. The Amulet was gone. And that fact alone scared him – if the Mythic Dawn had seen a necessity to get their hand on the Amulet, they had to know there was still someone left who could relight the Dragonfires. They knew, somehow, that he had not died in Kvatch as they had intended. Arri had very likely come to the same conclusion, cursing and struggling against his hold, and he had to keep his arms locked around her waist to have a chance of keeping her in place. And he understood – if it had been him in her place, he would have been furious. To risk one’s life to save another, to single-handedly make everything fall into place, and then have it all be in vain due to the carelessness of another … No, he believed her anger to be well justified. Still, he didn’t want her stabbing the Grandmaster. If she had such a thing as a conscience – and she did, he was almost certain of that by now – she certainly had no need of a murder weighing on it. “Don’t,” he muttered, low enough so that only Arri would hear, even as she attempted to dislodge his arms. “I understand, I truly do. But save your strength. Think of your injury. This won’t do you any good.” He was well aware he was making use of her apparent unwillingness to hurt him just to get away, and he also understood that she would be livid with him later, once the impulse to simply cut Jauffre down receded. But until then, he had to keep holding on to her. She was still a fighter while Martin was nothing of the sort; it should have been child’s play for her to free herself. And yet, there she was, struggling in a way they both knew would not get her out of his hold. Perhaps she truly didn’t have that much strength left, or she was merely doing it because the pain and frustration and despair needed to go somewhere, and Martin could at least be there. “I know! I know, but you don’t get it,” she seethed, her fingers now digging into his arms instead of her own palms, and the sound she made following those words sounded terrifyingly close to a wail. “He’s doomed you, just let me go, it’s his fault!”

Does this qualify as their first hug? I don't know. Martin won't tell me.

#wip wednesday #my writing #oblivion #martin septim #oc: arri #hero of kvatch

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livingfiction · 29 days ago

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4th times the charm…My sinners Character’s Review PART 1

So, I have been trying to write this review for damn near a week! And now that I’ve seen the movie for the 4th and probably final time (I think it will be leaving theaters after this week) I can. I have never gone, or even felt the need to go see a movie FOUR times. I knew this movie held a special place in my heart when after debating with myself I decided I had to go again because I may never get to experience this film on the big screen ever again and I would regret not taking this opportunity. I’m going to do an overall review, but I want to discuss some characters individually, things I noticed and also address some…issues. PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SKIP AROUND SECTIONS

SAMMIE:

I loved Sammie! He really was my baby!!! I’ve mentioned this before, but I loved how strong willed and determined he was. He even stood his ground against smoke when he threatened him to try to keep him out of Juke joints. And the thing is I know he was intimidated and afraid, but still he spoke up for himself, including when Smoke was going to shoot Pearline for not eating the garlic. And despite his young age (and I’m assuming maybe even inexperience) he shameless pursued a married older woman and even had the gall to ask her if she was happily married. He was so confident and audacious. I was so proud of him for choosing his music and for choosing not to believe that his gift was evil. When it comes to black people in the entertainment industry, any time an artist gets too successful, they are immediately labeled as devil worshippers and claims arise that they sold their sold for success. It doesn’t matter how talented they are or how much work they’ve put in. And these accusations are usually lobbied by the black community. It’s like black people REFUSE to believe that black people can be successful through the grace and blessings of God (which is a whole other topic). But you see that with Sammie. His father and even smoke only see his talent as good/useful if its being used in a less flamboyant and bold way. We see Sammie recite the bible from heart early in the movie and we know that his father is a deeply religious preacher. He has been raised in the church and with a certain set of standards for how one should live and with him being so young it takes a lot of courage and confidence to go against a lifetime of conditioning. You could tell that Pearline and Delta Slim had a profound impact on his life despite only knowing them for less than a day. When he’s recounting that day at the end, I noticed those are the two people that he thinks of first. He even named his club after Pearline. At the end of the movie, he says that before the sun went down that day at the Juke was the best day of his life. And that really broke my heart. For Sammie to have lived for 60 yrs (SIXTY!!!) after that day and to clearly have achieved a great level of success (he has his own club and has been able to tour, perform, and record albums), for him to have had a LIFETIME of experiences and live out his wildest dreams and that day is the greatest to him. And then the movie closing with’ The Last Time’ playing while he, smoke, and stack ride down the rode in 1932 brings me to tears EVERY time.

PEARLINE:

I know Pearline wasn’t a major character. But I adored her all the same! I saw someone else say this and I agree, I love that they didn’t make her character out to be a jezebel who led Sammie astray and “got what she deserved” for committing adultery. I don’t even think people realize that it was ALSO her who saved Sammie’s life. When Remmick came through the Mill doors after they went up the stairs, Smoke was fighting against Stack, and Remmick had damn bit Sammie before Pearline stabbed him. She basically sacrificed herself and told Sammie to go after she was bitten. Also, Jayme was so beautiful and she really made this character shine.

DELTA SLIM: Slim was such a multi-faceted and powerful character. I noticed that at the end when he sacrificed himself for the others after he took a swig of the beer he said “it’s still nasty”. When Stack was bribing him with the alcohol, it seemed like he liked it when he took a drink, but now I think that’s not the case. Him saying its STILL nasty at the end implies that he thought it was nasty when he first tried it. Stack clearly knew Slim very well and you could tell they go back and it was more than them knowing each other in passing kind of way. Slim was clearly territorial over the strip (as many performers are cause that’s their money of course) he worked and told Stack that if Sammie wasn’t his cousin specifically, he’d cut him (and a drunk or not I believe him). Stack grabbed a single beer from the truck when he left with Sammie and you could see the “gotcha” look on his face when slim asked him what he had. Stack knew he would need something to draw Slim in as even money wasn’t enough, but I don’t think Delta Slim joined them for the money or even the liquor. I genuinely believe he was lonely and looking for true community with people he knew not just people he performed for. He told Stack he didn’t think he even had 10 more years left on this earth (eerie foreshadowing because he didn’t even have another day). He’s an old man and of course as you get older more and more people die. He more than likely doesn’t have a lot of friends or family left---I’m sure the alcoholism didn’t help his personal relationships either. I also believe he sensed, not only Sammie’s talent before he even played, but the way his very soul was tied to his music. It was Sammie’s lifeline just like it was Delta’s. I saw some people say alcoholism saved his life, but it’s deeper than that. Music and alcohol saved Delta’s sanity. Yes, he drank and joked a lot, but he was in his right state of mind and had sense. He only told one tragic story, but it was enough, and I know as black man living in Jim Crow south (not to mention Delta had to have been born in the late 1800’s-proabley a little after slavery ended if not a little before) he probably had plenty more. I mean he and his friend were literally kidnapped by cops and taken to a home and forced to perform like show animals for white people. Before he sacrificed himself, he gave Sammie his guitar and told him to remember what he told him. To remember that they make magic with their music and that its apart of their very being because black people brought it from “home”. And for one day and part of the night he was a man with a home for what was probably the first time in a long time.

REMMICK:

I don’t really have too much to say about Remmick, but I do want to touch on a few things. I’ve seen so many theories about Remmick, but to me he was a very straight forward character. He wanted Sammie so that he could see his people again and everything he did after discovering him was an effort to gain control over him and his gifts. I notice people keep saying Remmick was trying to build community, but I didn’t see it that way. He wanted his ORIGINAL community before he became a vampire. If Remmick wanted a real community of people here he could’ve created that a hundred times over as it appears he’s been alive for a while. It’s deeper than that. I have a theory that Remmick stayed a vampire out of spite and just got used to it and accepted the life. Being presented with that kind of power migh’ve been seen as way to have fighting chance in a world that had decimated his people and corrupted his culture. Especially, after having his home be colonized where his family’s land was stolen and a foreign religion was forced his people. I have said that after being staked he looked shocked but as he watched the sun come up, he actually looked relieved to me. Like he was saying finally I’m free. His most profound character moment to me was when he started reciting the Lord’s prayer with Sammie. He had been talking in an American Southern accent the whole movie, but he had an Irish accent when he was reciting it. It’s like for the first time the REAL him from before that time (1932), and from before his change came through. I don’t think he changed the juke patrons because he really wanted them to join him or because he actually wanted to build with them. It was more of an intimidation tactic and also it served as proof to the ones inside that he was trying to “help” by joining them all together as “one people”. Also, I don’t know why people were claiming Remmick wanted Annie for gifts, once again I felt like this was just people making shit up, because the ONLY person he wanted was Sammie. Remmick didn’t even want Smoke and Mary to be honest. The whole trying to turn Annie and Smoke was completely Stack’s and Mary’s idea. He had literally said that if they gave him Sammie he would leave. Remmick had one goal and one goal only and was to pierce the veil to be connected with his ancestors so he could finally be at home again. Everybody was just a means to end for him to get what he wanted.

#black actors #michael b jordan #black actor #black actresses #black writers #sinner movie #sinners #sinners movie #wunmi mosaku #hailee steinfeld #ryan coogler #jack o'connell #delroy lindo

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sxveme-2 · 2 months ago

Text

Dance with Me Tonight // Bucky Barnes

MASTERLIST

DESCRIPTION:

"ᴀ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ɪꜱ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴀꜰʀᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ɪᴛ."

After you lose the beat in your heart, what happens next? What happens when your heart is splintered in two, and no one in the world can put it back together now that the only person who could have is dead? Can life go on? Can a person keep living when their lungs' breath is stolen?

Ninety years ago, Clara Phillips lost the very light in her eyes. The gentle girl began to rot from the inside out, corroding in on herself until all she spat was venom from the forked tongue of a snake. HYDRA stole the girl away from the small slice of solace she had secluded herself to and turned her into their own personal snake in the grass—their Black Mamba. Brainwashed and tortured beyond recognition, Clara took on the mantle of Anastasia—HYDRA’s secret weapon and the Winter Soldier’s knife in his back pocket.

Only when HYDRA falls does a girl with a broken mind and a destroyed spirit escape. Not Clara, not Anastasia, but someone else. A girl with a ruptured mind searching for small pieces of herself to put back together—all while her heart ached and pulsed for a singular man that her now broken mind did not know.

Follow Clara as she stumbles through the world around her, searching for a man, or myth, that could sew the torn stitches of her heart back together again.

DISCLAIMER: My works are only published here on Wattpad, Tumblr and AO3; thank you!I do not own any original characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Studios and Marvel Comics. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else. This work handles mature things such as nudity, sexual content, emotional distress and trauma. Do not read if you are not comfortable with these. I am not responsible for your media consumption and what you choose to read. This fanfiction is semi-canon compliant; there will be a deterrence in certain points to fit the story.

STATUS: Unedited

Prologue

Warnings: Suggestive Comments

Word Count: 1040

The mess hall of the camp was clangorous and unruly, with soldiers laughing over boiled meat and potatoes and trying to make the best out of their slummed circumstances. A few soldiers sat in the corner with makeshift instruments in their hands and a paltry tune sung from their throats. There was a tiny flicker of hope that dangled just above the platoon's head, whispering gentle promises of peace. It was a false hope; they all knew that, but it was something that they could hold close at night to keep themselves warm. Nights like these were all they had; it’s all that kept them from letting in the darkness that prowled at their camp's borders at all hours of the day.

Even those outside the lines seemed to claw for their own little shred of it, to hold that veil of hope up to their chins, the scarce warmth keeping the chill from settling in too deep into their bones and draining their resolve. It seemed that the bodies kept piling up, the nurses hands just as blood stained as those killing the Nazi’s, and the Nazi’s who killed the soldiers. The sights were uncanny, enough to make even the stomachs made of steel crumble.

But that’s what war was, wasn’t it? It took even the strongest of men and women, shattered them to their lowest selves, and then proceeded to crush them further. Even the loveliest of smiles dulled to nothing more than a kind simper.

But sometimes, only sometimes, does the light return to those smiles.

“Care for a dance, doll?”

She lifted her eyes from the boiled potato she had been stabbing at for the last five minutes to see a set of darkened blue eyes peering down at her. The hall seemed to stutter briefly, its life flickering as he stood above her. It was an unspoken rule; she wasn’t the one you asked to dance. She wasn’t the one whose hand you reached for or whose eyes you met. After all, the Colonel’s daughter was off limits. However, for James Buchanan Barnes, those limitations felt more like a challenge. Especially when their hands would brush when he walked past her, or how she held his stare just a few seconds longer than the others, or how she stayed by his side the first time he felt a bullet pierce his leg.

She felt like a forbidden fruit ripe for the plucking, and her chocolate brown eyes were ever so enticing for him. The rose of her cheeks and the curve of her lips, she was tempting to him in a way that no other girl ever had been. He flirted back in Brooklyn, but even then, his eyes always followed hers whenever he saw her on the street. Whenever they found themselves in the same speakeasy, or at the same event, she would avoid his gaze whenever he asked her to dance. Only once did she ever accept, just before he left for deployment—she hadn’t told him of her deployment to the war effort, and how she would only be sent out shortly after him. After all, her father wanted her close—but first, she had to help his scientist friend. She just wasn’t sure if he would live long enough for her to see him again—fate was on her side.

“Bucky…”

“It’s just a dance, doll. Surely the Colonel wouldn’t be upset if his daughter danced.”

“You don’t know my father very well.”

“Maybe not. Care to teach me?”

She let out a gentle sigh and dropped the fork that she held. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would come of these two. One was a Sergeant with a smooth tongue and a twinkle of trouble in his eye, and the other was the daughter of a Colonel, a nurse with a gentle touch and a soft voice. The dance was laid out for them, two people moving in tandem with one another in ways that no one but them could understand. Their feet were light, their breaths were held, and their faces swayed just a touch too close. It would only need to start with her hand sliding into his.

Her smile was a twinkle in the night sky, like a shooting star flying across a bleak midnight. A flash from across the room came as a camera shuttered, but there was no noise or lights that could break the trance that he now had her under. His skin was calloused against hers, but still gentle with his movements. The breath shuddered through the room as the music began once more and the singing returned, but this time, his hand rested in a respectful place on her waist, the other keeping its grip on her hand. Their eyes stayed glued to one another, not daring to break whatever rhythm they had found.

“If I had known you were this good of a dancer, maybe I would have taken you up on one back in Brooklyn,” she teased, pursing her lips and taking a slight step forward, “I would’ve had to bat off a line of other dames though.”

“You wouldn’t have had to fight anyone for my attention, Phillips, you know this.”

“Bucky, you’re among the most sought-after men from Queens to Midwood.”

“And yet I always made Steve go an extra two blocks just to walk past your place in Crown Heights in case I saw you.”

“I’m aware. You know, you two aren’t exactly a subtle pair.”

“Is it my charming good looks?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Barnes.”

The smile on her face felt impossible to wipe away, and the grip on her waist only seemed to tighten as the song drowned on around them. His breath danced across her cheek and the two felt the bubble around them grow tighter. Her heart skipped a beat each time his eyes met hers, and it felt like her world was no longer browns, greens, and blood. He made her feel alive again, and not just like the person that kept others breathing.

“Let me walk you back to your tent tonight.”

“I hope you’re not getting any ungentlemanly thoughts, Bucky.”

“About you, Clara? Never.”

#fanfiction #female oc #oc #romance #thunderbolts #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #fanfic #falcon and the winter soldier #the new avengers #the winter solider fanfiction #the winter soldier

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