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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 3 years ago

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Aarakocra Boyfriend: Enzo

This is for 2,000 of you lovely people following me. Thank you all so much! <3 This took more than a week to write, all thanks to writer’s block and burnout, so I’m thankful that I somehow managed to get this out lol.

Also, may or may not have gotten inspiration from Revali-- anyway, enjoy!

Part 2

Relationship: male monster x female reader

Burning Heart

Fresh snow. Fresh snow that had fallen a hundred-foot deep, cleansing the land for eternity.

"The last time I saw snow this deep, I was just a little boy, still clutched to my mother, unaware of how big the world was." Your companion marvelled. "My father was smart enough to never go further up north—he reminded me. I did not gain his intellect."

Calder was a man who came from the nearby town of Ravensfell, a few days out from Briar, but he had been more of a cold type when it came to first-time introductions. Eventually, you got to open up more of him, little by little. His olive skin, chiselled features and rugged beard made him every female's focus, but the poor man was either too oblivious or polite to acknowledge their flirtations. You couldn't help but laugh at the failed interactions. Poor man, too preoccupied in his own toil.

He became a well-appreciated acquaintance for you on your long travels from town to town, east to west then south to north, but his company was all good experience. After all, he was the best sellsword for the job, merely a guard for you whilst you continued your researches; the sight you needed when you turned your back.

Your team's campaign had led you and your small faction to head further up north, to a small village of Oakendenn full of proud and efficient warriors, the bird folk that had carried the same customs for centuries, evoking both fear and wonder into those who bumped into them. Granted, their seclusion from the world had been brought down quickly when travellers and researchers intent on learning about them came rushing at the chance, ruining their solitude for good.

Stepping foot into their quaint town was certainly a spectacle, having to meet your guide to finding such remains high up in the mountains of Fallde Slopes– if the slopes didn't kill you, the snowstorms could freeze the group within hours if they didn't take the right precautions or clothing.

"You say there is a guide who will help us?" The small dirk in your hand was smooth and unused, still brand new as the day you had gotten it. You were situated in the town itself, in a cramped yet warm inn that was all opened up to the elements, trying to remain unaware of the cold stares of the innkeepers.

"He's one of the finest warriors, apparently. Familiar to the lands and every speck of snow that litters this land," Calder's laugh was hearty. "Must pity us for our lack of feathers and wings."

"The Aarakocras are fierce, brutal they are with fighting as they are as with foreigners." If there was one thing you learnt, it was that not all the people you ran into would be so welcoming. "Careful you don't offend them. We need their apparent aid."

Calder grumbled something as he tended to the flames of the room, poking them occasionally. "Sooner to be done with this job and we can get out of their feathers, huh?"

"That's it, just think of it like that. And soon, you can be back to the warmth of the south."

"Thank the Gods," Calder smiled sadly. "I don't think I could spend another day away from my little Zerlina." You remembered the girl when you were riding out: a sad, tearful girl the spitting image of her father, tight dark hair so wild and knotted. You had remembered the night before the trip you had brushed them out gently for her the way your mother used to do for you. Just to help Calder out.

The poor man is a good father overall. Even if he doesn't see it.

"She'll be so happy to see you again, Calder. She misses her father dearly." You reassured quietly, watching the man again. He was worn and beaten, littered with scars and thick, burly arms. He longed for home too.

"I hope so too." He stretched, saying his goodnights to you and the others before heading to his cot to sleep. You followed, heading to your own bed before you couldn't find sleep, wishing you had someone to wait for you too.

Even when you remained aloof, you still tried to remain somewhat friendly to strangers, even to the guide who had gone out of his way into helping you. But they certainly what you had been expected.

"It seems I have to be a tour guide for your pesky expedition, hmm?"

The smile from nerves of introducing yourself to him had fallen from your face after hearing the words so sourly come from him. It didn't take much for you to build up the walls high again.

Your hand faltered, just in reach for him to shake, awkwardly pulling away. "So, you're the Enzo we were expecting?"

The first thing you noticed about him was how vivid his feathers were: the brightest compared to his countrymen. Many of reds, oranges and yellows, like red sands of the far south of your home; beaten and threaded like a thousand coppers. It made the winter sun far in the north much more lively. By far the prettiest of the others. You admitted, but only could you wish his personality was as lovely as his appearance.

Another thing you noticed about him was his wings: they were separate from his body, large and tucked behind his back, his hands similar to any humans but with long and curled nails for fingers. His bird body was dressed in what looked like traditional garbs: leather and a basic tunic and pants, his taloned feet poking out and tapping against the ground.

"Your boss was the one who called for me, asking if someone capable of knowing their way around these parts, clearly, you humans don't know much about us Aarakocras," he jeered, eyes a lovely golden colour even when they were staring intimidatingly down at you. "So, you're the one they call the Doctor?"

Clearly too prideful, I've noticed. You scoffed. All too stubborn like the snowstorms. "That is correct."

"So I've noticed," Enzo crossed his arms around his broad chest, the amusement was pooled in those eyes as if he was in on the funniest joke around. "Clearly all of your studies have gone to a degree than in common sense."

You pondered whether it would've been ideal to punch the bird square in the face, or whether provoking him would end with your untimely demise.

Instead, you squared your shoulders, straightening your posture as you pointed just behind him. "You see Fallde Slopes over there? Its hills have been receding in the last 100 years, meaning any day now, your village could be woken up buried under layers and layers of snow. The snow stops here, meaning you and your people could be facing the demolition of this region and its inhabitants." You crossed your arms too, copying him. "I'm just trying to help unless you think my studies had gone elsewhere?"

Enzo scoffed, a puff of feathers that ruffled up. "Let's just resume to what we're good at, hmm?"

If travelling anywhere had taught you anything, it was that you shouldn't trust any higher-ups, believing everything will be smooth sailing.

The reports and samples scattered across the slopes, dancing dangerously too low to the cliff edges, some succumbing more than others, and those in your group scrambled to save them. Enzo remained arrogant as ever, doing little to help and rather smugly watching the ordeal, complaining often that your group were "walking too slow" and "we were running out of time for sunlight".

You were situated in the corner, silently taking note of what was around of little life preserved, before the beating of wings perked your ears. Snow crunched delicately when the Aarakocra stooped beside you, watching with soundless intent.

"So, this is what you do?" He grazed at a small patch of dirt you had brought up beneath the heavy snow. "Looking at dirt and grass?"

"All of this hold important information for us to understand how the landscape is changing," Enzo couldn't help but to have his attention piqued when he heard how almost automatic your response was, informing rather than belittling him. When you looked up to meet his eyes, it was hard to gauge his reaction: head tilted, seemingly drawn in from how far leant to you he was beside you.

He quickly dismissed it, pulling back from the noticeable closeness, and the burning feeling in your chest fluttered too quickly for your liking. "Whatever keeps us alive, I suppose."

Another presence came over to the two of you, heavier than of the Aarakocra. "You think you could help me with this?" Calder was looking over at Enzo, who, also was staring with narrowed eyes at the bearded man.

"Yeah sure," you gave an awkward glance to both men, realising something was piercing the silent air. "Is something going on?"

"No," Enzo, puffed his chest out, giving Calder little regard as he turned his head. "You go off with your dog, I'm needed elsewhere."

You watched him walk away before turning back to Calder, head tilted. "I'm going to pretend nothing happened there."

"Agreed," Calder affirmed, pointing you towards the deeper parts of the woods where the treelines met and increased in sizes and numbers. "I think I might've found something."

"Lead the way." You gestured for him to take the lead, directing you through the trees. The snow was freshest in these parts, untouched and light, airy. A wonderland was discovered in a small corner forgotten from the world. Beautiful. You marvelled. I will never get bored of seeing this.

"What's wrong, Calder?" He stopped you when the two of you reached the middle of the area, overwatching the large view, the mountains dipped and the view from the top pointed directing to the Oakendenn, situated right in the opening of the valley. "It's right in target," Calder addressed, thick eyebrows knitted. "And that means a direct hit for the snow to collapse in on it all."

"We could have a day, week or years before this region is completely smothered." You noted wretchedly. All these reports, research and hypothesis, yet you felt like it all went to no use. It seemed like everything was too late, that hard work going down the drain. "I wish we could've done more."

"And we have, do not fret," Calder reassured, patting your shoulder that you needed from a comforting friend. "And we will do so much more. Let's head back to the others, keep all together."

Right, but still, I feel useless. You dusted the remaining snow off your warm clothes, trying to remind yourself of the crunching snow below, your foot sinking with every few steps. Like everyone relies on you all the time. The only sounds that were heard were the distinct soft crunches of the two of you heading back, before one wretched and horrid resounded, echoing along with the trees, some birds fleeing from their branches of homes.

You looked back to Calder, who looked back in confusion, listening closely to the cracking of the earth as if it had split open. Your right felt for a second as if it was sinking lower, taking your body with you as all your body weight brought you down so suddenly, snow following too, making your body crash into it with force as you waded chest-deep through it.

Your voice was sudden and nervous, watching the ledge you once stood at grow taller and taller above you, a weightless feeling take over your body, the scream of your name as unknown darkness settled around you before you could hit the ground.

The first time you had seen snow, you had been seven, marvelling in wonder with friends at how magical it all seemed. Never did you worry about the eternal cold, of it encasing your entire body and leaving you worthless and alone. You always had the warmth to rely on: warm blankets and hot cocoa and fire to share stories around. The cold was sore and biting, an eternity of nothingness but yourself.

You didn't know how long you had been trapped in darkness: how long you had gone unnoticed or remembered. Maybe this was it... just oblivion and emptiness. You tried to invasion your limbs, your fingers trying to tread through the snow like it was water; too thick to even pass through, but trying and trying to feel your fingers and toes wiggle again.

You clawed and clawed slowly until the darkness lightened and that bleakness turned to hope. You kicked your body out as you breached the surface, coughing and spluttering weakly, an invasion of pure cold and ice felt trapped in your throat.

You laid there with your head against a block of solid ice and snow, trying to steady your breathing, the cold and winds were never-ending, never giving your body a break as all felt numb.

I'm going to die out here. You thought. Will my story be told again? You wanted to laugh, to call for help, but your throat was stinging from its frostiness.

There was a distant, soft sound of tree branches moving and swaying, how the dead leaves swayed and moved with long, drawn moans, wings of small birds flying off from the abrupt noises. The flapping of wings never ceased, ringing in your ears, reminding you didn't have wings yourself to fly off from this nightmare. It was only when you could open your eyes was when you saw the blurred large figure descend in front of you, all feathers and intimidating, you wished to cry out in pain for your misery, but once your eyes focused, did you noticed something familiar about it all.

A rush of feathers, brown and red, as pretty as coppers.

"So, there you are." Enzo's voice was merely a whisper among the howling winds, flapping slowly to the snowy plains in front of you, his body inches from you towering easily over your small frame. You made no noise or voiced your frustration for his words, weakly looking up at him as best as you could.

The blowing winds cast a glow behind his silhouette, watching the Aarakocra bend to kneel in front of you. "Hey," his voice surprised you, a feathered hand on your shoulder, shaking you with almost impatience. "Don't die on me, you hear?"

"Shut up," the words came weakly from you, luring you to sleep, his figure blurring again until you saw three of him, vision dotted. "Enzo..."

"Hush." He wasted no time in collecting you in his arms, cuddling you close to him as he carried you. What shocked you most was how incredibly warm he was, unaffected by the vast cold. You instinctively snuggled closer into his chest, shutting your eyes and shuddering. "Let's get you out of here."

You didn't respond, feeling how there was a surge of air moving around you both, your body growing lighter and head more lightheaded as he flapped his wings, the winds more biting against your exposed face and neck.

The harsh winds or the cold went straight to your head, pulling you in and out of consciousness, wrapped tightly in the arms that allowed you to feel a sense of safety to slip beyond the darkness, to rest your eyes for a moment.

There was an aching drive for warmth that slowly spread through you, taking over your body, making you want to drink it in greedily. When your eyes opened once more to a flickering flame, dancing and roaring, filling its beauty in the room. Just opposite you in the small room, knelt Enzo, tending to something he was pouring into a bowl.

"Where are we?" Your voice felt worse with wear, hoarse and not tended to. Enzo flinched, his feathers bright and shimmering against the colour of the flames, making him seem like a risen phoenix, an enigma in your eyes.

In his hands, the bowl was passed to you, his own in hand as he watched you gauge your reaction, before answering, "A cave I found, a few days out from Oakendenn."

"And the others? And Calder-"

"For the love of the Gods, can you for once think about yourself?" His words weren't snappy or aloof, more full of weary and strain. He laughed tiredly. "Honestly, little doctor, do you think before you go out so recklessly?"

Your cheeks rouged at the little nickname, ignoring it for the time being until it would nag the part of your brain for answers. "All in the name of science."

"Yes, well there won't be any science if you're frozen to death." He hesitated momentarily, before slipping a warm blanket around your shoulders, securing it carefully. "You're still a valuable asset."

To who exactly though? You questioned, silently snuggling into the blanket further. There was a strong smell of mint that was strong in your nostrils, pleasant and warm, luring you to tranquillity. It smelt a lot like him somehow, and your heartbeat raced with bashfulness.

You watched from your peripheral, the Aarakocra shuffling to sit beside you properly, his gaze never seeming to leave yours. “You’re doing an awful lot for me, Enzo.” For someone who dislikes me, and I, supposedly too.

But even that seemed like a lie. Enzo scoffed, his laugh light and airy like the frozen air. “Seems to me someone is just enjoying the company.” He shuffled closer to you, awkwardly throwing an arm around you for further comfort. “If you manage to not become a human popsicle, maybe—just maybe, will I show you around my hometown.”

Not only had his soft words thrown you off, but the feeling of his arm around you seemed not to be of great surprise. “What do you mean?” You scrambled for the right words.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of humans in my time, taking them up and down these mountains,” he said. “Not one of them had wildly gone down one of the slopes. You think that can go so smoothly with me and my reputation?”

“Your reputation, huh?” You laughed, spluttering into it when it tickled the back of your throat harshly. Enzo had placed a cup of water on your lips hastily, eyeing you with fake disdain you hoped. “You have a great reputation for the ladies or something?”

“Hmph, if that’s what humans like to think of it, then no.” He snorted, his eyes shifting. In this low, dim light, they seemed to be practically glowing. “Gods, that sounds terrible.”

There was a laugh shared between the two of you for a moment, onlooking the fire soundlessly, an unexpectedly calm atmosphere settling. You sighed, resting against his shoulder, resting your head into the bed of warm feathers, the smell of mint intense. “I’ll take that promise if you’re keeping with it.”

Enzo laughed warmly, shutting his eyes, the body growing slack as he hummed quietly to himself. “That’s good to hear.”

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gravityunforgiven · 4 years ago

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Right Where You Left Me (Kakashi x OC)

Pairings: Kakashi x OC, Jiraiya x Tsunade

Synopsis:

She was the daughter of a Legendary Sannin, He, a son of a disgraced shinobi. Fate brought them together but life tore them apart. Will they be able to take control of their destinies and find their way back to each other?

...Or will they be another victim of the cruel shinobi world they are both a part of?

Feel free to reblog!

Chapter Five

When Tsunade stepped outside the casino, she was frozen in her steps. She knew almost instantly that Akira was close by. She could still feel the faint but lingering presence of her chakra.

Akira’s here. She’s here.

There was no way Tsunade could have possibly mistaken Akira’s chakra for someone else’s. She may not have have seen her for a decade but Tsunade could never forget the familiarity of Akira’s presence. She knew it like the back of her hand.

Akira’s chakra has always been a little different than of a normal shinobi largely due to the fact that wasn’t like the rest of them either. The uniqueness of her chakra was hidden in plain sight and would have been very obvious if one knows what to look for.

By each passing second, Tsunade could feel herself sobering up. The sudden realization that her daughter was in such a close vicinity caught her off guard. She was suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions she had been trying to ignore for the past ten years.

She wanted to see her.

She had been meaning meaning to see Akira so many times in the last years that she had lost count of them. She had even gone as far as to reach the outskirts of their village only to turn back around and run for the hills. Tsunade just couldn’t face Akira. She was scared of what awaits her once she returned home, afraid of what Akira would say after she left her so many years ago.

She was terrified to be a burden for her daughter. It was never her intention to leave as long as she did, she only wanted to grieve properly and move on from Dan and Nawaki’s death but for some reason, a decade later, she was still grieving.

Tsunade didn’t exactly know what she was doing but she somehow found herself roaming around the unfamiliar village for the last person keeping her alive.

Just a glimpse. Just a glimpse then I’ll be gone. Tsunade kept repeating the words to herself. She had continously kept tabs on Akira through Jiraiya but there was nothing like seeing her in the flesh.

Tsunade was well aware of the fact that she had hurt her daughter and she knew that her sudden return would cause her only more pain. She just couldn’t do that again. She just wasn’t ready to put Akira through all of that all over again.

Though Tsunade could easily discern Akira’s chakra from a specific distance, she was certain that it was not the case for her daughter. Though it was clear that Akira was blessed with a remarkable skill in chakra control like her mother, Akira was just too young to remember Tsunade’s chakra. She was just so young.

It wasn’t long until Tsunade found her sitting on the bar of a sushi shop. Tsuande’s breath was caught in her throat. For a moment, the world around her disappeared and all she could see was her daughter. She was sitting on her own, her back faced Tsunade but there was no doubt in Tsunade’s mind that it was Akira.

She knew it was her.

Her hair that used to reach her waist as a child now fell just a little past over her shoulder in waves of light blonde, a familiar Konoha issued cloak hung neatly on the back of her chair but Akira’s gaze was worlds away. She spun a chopstick in between her fingers as she stared at practically nothing.

Tsunade realized Akira was here on a mission. Tsunade almost scoffed at herself for thinking otherwise. Of course, she’s here on a mission. What was I expecting?

She would never admit it even to herself but a part of her still hoped that her worst fears hasn’t become a reality. Throughout the years, Jiraiya had relentlessly assured Tsunade that there was no reason for her to believe that Akira loathed her. He had told her that Akira understood why her mother left but she knew deep down that Akira must have hated her for leaving. She hated herself for leaving.

What she did was cruel and selfish. But it was better than dragging Akira down with her to a pit of endless grieving and what ifs.

She had her glimpse of Akira. She had with her own two eyes how Akira had grown into an astonishing young woman. Tsunade knew she should leave. It was obvious that Akira was better off without her but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She knew she was being selfish yet again. Akira deserved so much better than her, she deserved a mother who can take care of her and not someone who needed taking care of.

Tsunade knew that the right thing to do was to keep her distance and she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or just her but she found herself weaving hand signs and masking her appearance before closing the gap that separated her from her daughter.

She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do when she sat on the stool next to Akira but the words came out of her mouth without her permission.

“You’re a long way from home.” Akira stopped mid-sip from her drink and looked at her right where the voice came from and found a woman clearly in her late 50s with graying hair and a smirk.

For the second time that night,Tsunade’s breath was caught in her throat. When Akira’s eyes pierced into her own, for a split second, she saw Dan’s face instead. Even when Akira was young, people had told her how much they looked similar but seeing at her now, Tsunade thought how wrong all of them were. Akira had always been so much like Dan than she was of her. They just didn’t know him enough to see.

Akira blinked a couple of times in confusion, unsure if she was the one being talked to by the unfamiliar woman. “I’m sorry?”

Instincts were suddenly taking over Akira’s entire body. She discreetly checked the shuriken holster on her left leg just in case the woman attacked.

“You’re Tsunade’s daughter.” She said as a matter of fact then casually orders a dish from the menu.

“Oh, no.” A defeated sigh escaped Akira’s lips. I know where this is going. She had encountered this conversation too many times than she wanted to remember. The resemblance between her and her mother kept giving away their relationship to the people Tsunade had a debt to.

“She owes you money doesn’t she?”

The woman chuckled, the lines on her face becoming more visible as she did so. “ She does actually.”

Akira shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m not paying for her.” Akira was definitely curious about the woman now. She seemed familiar, like they’ve met somewhere before though Akira was absolutely certain this was the first time she had ever seen the lady.

“Do I know you?” Akira’s eyes narrowed amd Tsunade’s heart skipped a beat.

“I used to know when you were younger.” That wasn’t exactly a lie in Tsunade’s part. She did know Akira as a child. Not anymore. The person sitting right next to her was completely different from the child who bid her goodbye on the village gates. That child was oblivious, unaware, still free from the gravity of her duties. This girl, no, this woman she was seeing bled of confidence and grace in ever action. Tsunade could see from her face how she had embraced her responsibilities wholeheartedly despite its burden. She had grown into someone Tsunade could only dream of becoming.

“Really?” Akira’s right eyebrow arched this time, still suspicious. So, Tsunade, still enamoured by the presence of her daughter, continued her cover story. She told her stories, facts only someone from the village would know and things no one would have known if they didn’t see Akira grow up. And true enough, Akira was convinced of her identity.

For what seemed like only a few minutes for Tsunade but hours in reality, the two exchanged stories with each other. It was much easier this way. To Akira, she was just a retired shinobi traveling the world, not someone living a life full of regrets. She told her stories of her time as a shinobi, the adventures, the missions, something she never had the chance to do when Akira was younger as she did not fully understood yet what it takes to become a shinobi. Still, she was careful to keep her cover on and noticed that Akira never mentioned any names. But still, it didn’t took long for Akira to succumb into the familiarity of the elder lady.

She didn’t have a lot of women in her life growing up. She had her friends for sure but Rin was gone, Kurenai was just only a few years older than her and even Kushina was not much older either. They were like her older sisters and Biwako Sarutobi became her honorary grandmother. The fact that the two most important women in her life died at the same night didn’t help at all. She didn’t have anyone to buy clothes with or talk to when her budding romance with Kakashi at the time became all too confusing. She went through all of these alone. Of course, she had Jiraiya but despite being the writer the Make Out Series, there were things only a fellow woman can understand.

As the older lady continued to speak next to her, Akira wondered if this is what it felt like to have a mother. The shinobi in her told her to shut up, pack her things and leave the woman who literally showed up from nowhere. She reminded herself that genjutsu was not exactly her strong suit but the other part of her was a little too assured that this woman was harmless and she was technically part of her old life. She was just so kind and she listened and laughed with her.

They talked about the village and how much it has changed over the last few years. Tsunade told her abour her travels and the places she had visited and it came to her knowledge that Akira had dreamt to travel sthe world as well. Not for missions, but for herself. When Tsunade asked asked what was stopping her, Akira’s answer was short but it was more than enough for her to see the dedication that she has for the village. Like her father.

“I guess I want to protext my people more than anything.” She answered with a shrug and a smile. Tsunade knew she meant each word from the look in her eyes alone. Akira told her how protecting the village was what she wants to do the most not because she needs to,but because she wants to. There was nothing else she would rather be than be a protector of her home.

“So you want to become Hokage, then? Is that what you want too?” Do you have his dream too?

Akira’s laugh filled the air. “No.” she chuckled. “I don’t really like paperwork.” This made Tsunade laugh herself. She guess that Akira had seen the mountains of paperwork from the Third Hokage and it did not look appealing to her either.

“ I prefer protecting the village from the outside. Besides, I’m better off at field work anyway.”

“Captain?” Their converstaion was interrupted by two seemingly normal shinobis to the normal eye but their all too familiar black cloaks immediately gave away their identities to Tsunade.

ANBU.

Akira quickly excused herself from their conversation and headed out. Tsunade was well aware of the fact that Akira had joined the ANBU at an age younger than what everyone was accustomed to but she was never informed that Akira had become a team captain. Both she and Jiraiya had been against the idea of Akira being an ANBU knowing how dangerous the missions they were sent to are but there was really nothing anyone could do when Akira sets her mind to something. All they could do was to watch and pray that she would come home every time.

The three talked in hushed tones but Tsunade heard enough to perceive that whatever their mission is, it was not going as planned.

There was a moment of silence between the three as Akira contemplated what their next move would be.

“Tell the others we’re moving out on the first light.” Her command was curt but spoken with absolute finality.

When Akira returned to her seat, there was a noticeable change in her mood. “Mission’s not going well, huh?” Tsunade asked though the answer was more than obvious by the look in Akira’s face.

Akira let out a deep and frustrated sigh. “I don’t really like long-term missions.”

“Someone waiting for you back home?” Tsunade took her chances and asked. She wondered if Akira had had the chance to fall in love yet. She hoped that Akira hadn’t yet as she wanted to be there for her daughter when she starts dating but the deep flush of red quickly spreading across Akira’s cheeks told her otherwise.

Oh.

Akira contemplated for a second wether she would divulge that information to the still annamed woman but before she could tell herself to stop, s smile was already forming on her lips.

“There is, actually.”

Man, I really should shut-up now.

Tsunade could see a gleam in Akira’s eyes as she told her how much this man means to her. All her worries from her mission seemed to disappear with the mention of the man. She looked incredibly happy and for that, Tsunade was beyond grateful.

If you ever find yourself in the Land of Fire, You should come by to the village. I think he would love to meet you.” Akira says as she gestured for the bill.

Tsunade would love to meet him as well knowing that she is forever indebted to this person for bringing joy into her daughter’s life.

The two women reached for the bill at the same time, and for a split second, their skins touched. All Tsunade could think about was heat.

Akira’s skin was abnormally hot against her. The medic ninja in her was sure that Akira had a fever of at least a hundred at the bare minimum.

“I got this. It’s the least I could do for my mother.” Akira says, pulling out a couple of bills from her wallet.

“You’re sick.” Tsunade placed a hand on Akira’s forehead and confirmed that she was warmer than usual.

Akira looked at her in confusion before dismissing her with a laugh. “I’m always warm.” She grinned. “That’s just me.”

Tsunade knew it must have been an effect of being the Okami’s reincarnation she had developed while growing up. It wasn’t like this when Akira was a child or she would have instantly noticed it.

Questions as to what else Akira may have developed plague Tsunade’s mind but she never had the chance to ask Akira because she was once again caught off guard when Akira placed her own Konoha issued cloak around Tsunade’s shoulders.

“Here. Looks like you need it more than I do.” Akira adjusted the cloak on Tsunade’s shoulder and zipped it into place.

“But it’s cold out-“

“I’m always warm remember?” Akira held the entrance curtains of the shop out of the way for Tsunade.

The two of them stood outside the shop where the moon was already shining bright and the streets were lit with street lights.

“You know between the two of us, you have more chances in seeing my mother more than I do.” Akira started. She knew that it was incredibly inappropriate to ask a favor from someone she had just met and whom she refuses to grace with her name but she was desperate. She had to see her mother even for a moment.

Akira had made it a point to not talk about Tsunade whenever Jiraiya was around knowing ythat the man was also having a hard time dealing with his own feelings and juggling his time between fulfilling his destiny and fathering Akira as much as he possibly can.

This woman was her last chance in order to talk to her mother and sparing Jiraiya.

“So if you ever see her, can you do me a favor and tell her to come home?” Akira looked straight into the eyes of her mother and Tsunade saw right through her and into the sadness Akira was trying so hard to conceal.

“Tell her that I understand that she doesn’t owe anything to me but I need to know-“ Akira’s voice broke.

“Tell her I need to know if it was me.” Akira forced a smile in her face. “I deserve at least that.”

I need to know if she left because I was different. Because I wasn’t like the others.

“Okay?”

“Of course.” There was nothing else Tsunade could say before Akira gave her one last smile - a smile that would haunt Tsunade for the rest of her days- before disappearing into the night with the hopes of seeing the kind woman once again

Tsunade was left on the street on her own ince again with only her thoughts to accompany her. Of all the possible scenarios that had ran through her head, never did she once imagine that Akira woulld blame herself for the decisions she made.

It was never Akira, It was always her who had the problem.

She had always been perfect to Tsunade’s eyes from the moment she was born. She was the one good thing that happened in Tsunade’s life. She was her miracle.

Tsunade promised herself that she would tell Akira that herself.

—————

Tsunade found herself standing outside the window of her daughter’s rented room, her eyes brimmed with tears as the gravity of what she had done all those years ago finally sinked in.

Akira blamed herself for something she had nothing to do with.

Just a few feet away from her, her daughter laid fast asleep on the futon. She was curled into a tight ball, the duvet only covering her lower body and the pillow that her head was supposed to be resting on, lay discarded on the floor.

Tsunade couldn’t help but smile. The familiarity of the scene she was witnessing felt right. It felt like home. She had done this thousands of times before, back when the woman in front of her was nothing but a baby that can fit right into her arms, then a young child whose abilities were one of a kind she posed a danger to her own, and now, a fine kunoichi who had already surpassed her predecessors in every aspect.

Yet despite that, Tsunade can still see the child she loved more than anyone or anything in the world. She can still see Dan in her. Akira may indeed inherited her mother’s looks but there was so much of Dan that lives in her.

She knew deep inside what she had to do. She needed to stop this nonsense. Dan may have been gone but he left her the most precious gift anyone could ask for and she was so busy tending to her own grief that she didn’t see who needed her the most.

Tsunade knew she needed to come home.

She needed to come home to Akira.

But she was a little too late.

Way too late.

—————

A/N: Thank you for all the support! I really appreciate them more than you can imagine.

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aeroargonic · 3 years ago

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My thoughts on Lore Olympus

Trigger warning: mentions of sexual assault and pedophilia.

I've kinda been getting into the Webtoon scene recently. Out of all the comics that I'm keeping up with, I find Lore Olympus probably gets the most attention here on Tumblr. Obviously, I can see why it appeals to a lot of people; combining Greek mythology, a very popular Greek myth at that, with a modern twist and some really beautiful art. I am not gonna claim to be an expert on Greek mythology because my own knowledge on it is spotty at best lol.

As much as I want to enjoy Lore Olympus, there's a couple of things in the story that jump out at me and are really hard to ignore. This is where we get into the trigger warnings so I'll put this under a cut just in case.

BTW, please keep in mind this might be a one-off thing. I am not turning my blog into a Lore Olympus blog.

The biggest issue is obviously the age gap between Hades and Persephone. I have no problem with them having a big age gap, but she's barely an adult. Even Hades calls her a teenager at points. There's also the fact that she's an intern at his company...where he's the boss. So far, we've seen very little of her actually doing the work she'd be assigned as an intern and Persephone herself even notes that she may not be entirely qualified to do all the work. There's the age gap, then there's the power gap. There's just too much opportunity for Hades to take advantage of a vulnerable Persephone for their relationship to be as healthy as the writers want it to look. For a comic that seems to pride itself on its progressiveness with body types and healthy relationships...

Yeah. Persephone is severely sexualized. Now let me say that there is nothing wrong with her body type at all; everyone matures and grows differently. What I do have a problem with is that a lot of her clothing either just barely covers her butt, or leaves a decent amount of her cleavage exposed. While she is a grown adult and can dress herself however she pleases, please refer to my earlier point where Hades calls her a teenager. A lot about Persephone's appearance and personality seems to suggest a childish sense of immaturity. Legally and physically, she may be an adult. But she looks and acts so much like a teenage girl that she might as well be one.

Then there's what happened to her and Apollo. Personally, I think the writing sexual assault the way it was written in the comic is a sign of lazy writing. By the time it happens, Apollo has been established as having no redeemable qualities whatsoever, and the seriousness of the scene is constantly danced around, as if the sexual assault was only intended to exist for shock value and nobody is too interested in exploring the repercussions and trauma that come from this. There seems to be a reoccurring theme where any male god or character in the story shows a certain amount of interest in Persephone. Obviously, Hades and Persephone are the endgame and Apollo believes that he's somehow entitled to have her. Ares makes out with her, Hermes seems to have a crush on her, and even Thanatos can't bring himself to hate her.

Speaking of Thanatos and those who are against Persephone, I wish we could go a bit deeper as to why Minthe and Thetis feel the need to ruin Persephone's relationship with Hades. Having it just be jealousy is pretty shallow and kinda reduces Minthe and Thetis as characters. So much of both their personalities revolve around being in relationships with their bosses. Again, somewhat lazy writing to me. Minthe had potential to drop Thetis and change for the better, but she just went straight back to Thetis the second the opportunity to get dirt on Persephone came up, which ruined the point of a couple of chapters beforehand for me.

Many of the female characters in this story, I find, seem to get shafted in terms of development. If they're not entirely on Persephone's side, like Hera, they get a negative portrayal of sorts. Minthe and Thetis are jealous bitches, Hestia is a hypocrite, Demeter is controlling, and Artemis is a meathead who is completely oblivious to Persephone's plights. Even those who are on Persephone's side, such as Daphne, are noticeably lacking in the characterization department. But for a lot of these characters, both male and female, a good chunk of their development revolves around Persephone. Granted, she is the main character is a wanted fugitive, but I do think this amount of obsessions is silly and takes up too much personality from a lot of characters.

Am I calling Persephone a Mary Sue? Well, not quite. But she's this sweet and innocent and pure little bean with a bite when she needs it. Obviously, whenever she's mean or snarky or turns someone into a plant, there's always a justification for it. Basically, rarely is anything actually Persephone's fault. She doesn't seem to take a lot of responsibility for her actions and while it might not be in Hades's character to get seriously mad with her for the plant thing, he had no problem yelling at her earlier for a less serious deed. Persephone's anger is a mess storywise. We're supposed to believe that she has limited control over her powers and her act of wrath was an accident (because, as I've established, she's supposed to be this pure and innocent woobie), but she was well aware of her actions and intentions when she turned Minthe into a plant.

I realize that I've been saying quite a lot of criticisms against Lore Olympus, so I'll throw some positive things that I do like about the story. I like the concept of Olympus being much more modern than the mortal realm. It's been hinted at that some nymphs are treated worse than others, and I hope we get an opportunity to explore that further. I genuinely was excited when Minthe snapped back at Thetis to see Minthe get redemption of sorts and learn to change her ways for good. Alas, that potential plot appears to be thrown out the window. Also, I love Eros and Athena. They've got to be some of my favourite characters.

So, here's all my ramblings and rantings about Lore Olmypus. Not to call myself a stan or anti or anything, because I believe you can still enjoy or participate in content while keeping a critical eye on it; the way I see it, you should never blindly follow or hate upon a work. Nothing is perfect and Lore Olypmus is not perfect. There's a lot that could be improved and added or retconned. It clearly isn't going to follow the original myth entirely and I don't feel well-educated or familiar enough with the original myth to talk about how faithful Lore Olympus is. Same with the art. I think the art looks lovely, although there are some obvious oversights with colouring and body proportions. I'm certain someone else can sum that up better than I can.

But hey, if all else fails, Punderworld exists. And that's a really good comic too.

So for now, I'll just follow this work and see what happens next.

#lore olympus #lore olympus persephone #lore olympus hades #lo critical

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canvasofthecosmos · 6 years ago

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Traits I’ve noticed in the rising signs I’ve met

Aries Catchphrase: “Another Day in Paradise.” A lot of head shaking- pretty much uses their heads to point to objects and communicate in general, hates wasting their breath. First ones to get frustrated when confronted by any obstacles. Firm believer that if you want it done right, do it yourself. Starts a new hobby every few months then gets bored and goes on to the next. Wants SO BADLY for someone to be their gym buddy. Actually just wants everyone to be their friend, they talk to strangers like they’ve known them for years. Falls asleep instantly but also wakes up a lot in the middle of the night. Already thinking of what to get into after this. Taurus Catchphrase: "Hold your horses." Slow but sure footing, maintains eye contact, knows when to raise their voice. Moves like they have a weight on their shoulders. Just wants to get everything out of the way all at once so they end up furiously multitasking. Actually, probably winds up finishing everything at once because they procrastinated too long. During the times they should be catching up on work, they can probably be found doodling, trying to form a band or cooking. Tries to pull all-nighters because they even procrastinate in going to bed, then gives up some time after 3 am and oversleeps that morning. Gets new clothes and then proceeds to wear their staple sweatshirt for the next month regardless. Gemini Catchphrase: Whatever their favorite meme is at the moment. Will Stare You Down with such intent that you think they have beef, but it’s cause they either heard a story about you through the grapevine or just think you’re cute. Will find any excuse to make small talk. Probably talked to you once in passing and now always stops to chat when they see you. Great writers because they LOVE gossip almost as much as practical jokes, preferring to sit back and watch the magic unfold before them. Most likely to get yelled at by a teacher in grade school because they were nose deep in a novel in the middle of a lesson. Takes at least one (1) different personality test online a day. Lays in bed staring at the ceiling for at least an hour before they finally fall asleep. Signs of aging cease at the ripe age of 12. Cancer Catchphrase: “What do you mEan.” Tend to have rounder features, therefore more insecure about their weight even when they’re perfectly healthy. Fueled entirely by emotional fulfillment. You can tell EXACTLY how they’re feeling just by looking at them. Loves to baby anything they can, especially small pets. Always has like 3 candles burning at once. Has 1 tapestry per wall of their room/house. Their clothes look SO comfy but so stylish?? Try hards as kids but when they grow up, they shamelessly enjoy things that they pretended to hate when they were young. You can call them crying at any time of the day and they will come running with a wine bottle in one hand and a homemade meal in the other. Has to clean off their bed before they lay down every night not because its dirty but they have more pillows than one human could ever use at once. At least one of their parents, more likely their mom if they’re on good terms, will adopt all their friends as her additional children. Leo Catchphrase: “So...” (used to exaggerate, inquire, and to connect ideas, often all at once). I know that everyone says this but their hair is the first thing you see, there’s just so much how do you miss it?? So ready to party it has to be unhealthy. Will hug you and endearingly call you bitch within 5 minutes of knowing them. Ready to start so much shit at any time (air signs love em because they can just stand a safe distance away and take it all in) but eventually they or (more likely) the Offender gives in and it’s all good... for now. Heart on their sleeve 24/7. Needs to set the stage of their life all the time and has a playlist for every Mood, which means at least 40. A walking, talking advertisement for their favorite things- #1 hype man/wing man. Loves to sleep, will sleep through any/accidentally turn alarms off instead of snooze them so they have to set 5-10 at least. Will stay in bed as long as possible, and are very rarely morning people. Most likely to rock bangs and pigtails into adulthood. At least half of their possessions are holographic/glittery/light-up. Virgo Rising Catchphrase: "It’s no problem." Chuckles to themselves often because they pick up on the weirdest little details around them. The only time their hands aren’t busy fiddling with something is when they sleep. Seem mad shy at first but will dissolve tension in an instant with a wisecrack. Thrives in awkward situations and uses these opportunities to make friends. Makes things uncomfortable on purpose to watch people squirm. First person in the room to speak up about something and show initiative in projects. Probably fluent in technology, a trade like mechanics, culinary arts or cosmetology, or at least one instrument. Animal whisperers, probably has a couple cats and some fish. Still learning how to get their lives together. Only warning signs before they snap is a split second of frustrated silence. Drawing skills were enhanced the most during grade school because they drew on every surface their little hands could get to. Libra Rising Catchphrase: Probably whatever their friends have greeted them the most with this week. Desperate to connect, so they’ll talk about pretty much anything and probably won’t be bothered by someone they recently met sitting thigh-to-thigh. Makes friends with gorgeous folks but also flocks to loud, outspoken people. Personality is different around different people. Least likely to talk about their family. Perpetually confused but still truckin’. Will talk about anything and everything and see both sides. Only plays devil’s advocate when they don’t care about a topic/point of view and just want you to shut up. Subconsciously acts differently depending on who they’re around. Presentation is mad ambiguous so not only can they easily pull off androgyny but they can somehow flaunt styles that are hard to pull off, and then look like they can be anywhere from 16 to 30 to boot?? Takes a long time to fall asleep because they want to get their life together and plan the most when its time to go to bed. Scorpio Rising Catchphrase: -they don’t have one as they prefer to communicate solely with their eyes. Either you love them or your hate them. The longer you go without seeing them, the harder it is to recognize them next time you do. Try so hard to look big and scary and unapproachable as a defense mechanism. You only need to know them for a few days to realize that they’re actually HUGE softies. Makes smart-ass comments under their breath when you do something ridiculous because “they can’t help it.” That’s partially true, but mostly they really want you to hear their mumbling so that they don’t have to spell it out to you. Trust me, their backhanded remark you weren’t supposed to hear is much nicer then what they’ll say to your face when provoked. Other than this, they can communicate perfectly with only their eyes. Most likely to give the best advice that no one listens to, but also the least likely to listen to good advice themselves because they learn best from experience. Believes there’s a time and place for everything. Pretends to hate cuddling but snuggle in their sleep; sleeps under a minimum of 3 soft blankets with the fan going. Sagittarius Rising Catchphrase: "I Know, Right?" Either smiling like a fool because they’re completely oblivious or because they know something you don’t, it’s hard to tell. Probably has long legs, most likely to fill out as they age. Somehow always approachable bc they are going into everything with gusto. In matters regarding everything but themselves, they blindly trust everything and everyone around them. Turns everything into a joke. Annoyingly agreeable until they feel comfortable with you, at which point they go full know-it-all mode. They have no patience and once they reach their wits end, they will tell you exactly what’s on their mind and they don’t care who you think you are. Always finding trouble because they have no impulse control and no respect for authority. Once you get them on their soapbox there’s no escape. Can only sleep in total darkness, probably sleeps with a pillow on their face. When you find them asleep in their bed, you’ll wonder at first if they’re dead if you can even see them buried under the covers. Capricorn Rising Catchphrase: Anything sarcastic. Rushes through everything so they have more time to relax before they go to bed at 8 pm sharp. Prominent bone structure, especially cheekbones. Will drop everything to help even though their plate is full because they secretly care but will cover this up with complaints. Gives people they care about allowances of some kind, especially when they have more of something you want/need. Hardest rising to find self acceptance/love, but wind up the best at it. Faces adversity with dark humor. True personality is hidden behind at least a dozen masks. First of their friends to have a Finsta. Rare to find one without an addiction to coffee or cigarettes. Learned at a super young age how to cook for themselves. Most likely to be a latch-key kid. Buys everything online. Researches everything they partake in beforehand at least a week before. Likes to sleep early and wake up early so they don’t miss anything. Plans their next adventure when they try to sleep. Aquarius Rising Catchphrase: something cryptic under their breath that doesn't make sense and can't be translated to modern english. Looks more like their ancestors further up the family tree than their own parents. Has to be raise as many eyebrows as possible. Does everything in a backwards, roundabout way that makes sense to only them. Quickly figures out out all the possible outcomes of a situation, still goes for the most hair-brained route. Makes everything a meme. Weirdest taste in music and fashion, but somehow rocks it effortlessly. They know exactly the impact they have on others and uses it to their advantage. Considers themselves the mom friend. Gone at the first sign of emotional involvement. Attracts drama but denounces it as petty at the same time. Like Capricorn, it’s hard to find one that isn’t addicted to something that’s bad for them. Can only fall asleep if they feel like they accomplished something and made a difference that day, no matter how small. Pisces Rising Catchphrase: “Livin’ the dream.” Really just wants to go home and dissolve. This is the hardest sign to guess, but once you get their birth time it all makes sense. Sad puppy eyes perk up and reflect everything you are when you have their attention. Consumes media you’ve never heard of. Probably came out of the womb knowing how to play an instrument. Escapism of choice is either drugs and alcohol or fantasy games/books/movies. Half the time it’s impossible to tell if they are currently messed up, hungover or just tired, but it’s always at least one of the three. Doesn’t realize how much people drain them until it’s too late. They try very hard to give it their all, but most of the time they’re running on a low energy reserve as-is. Ironically most awake at bedtime, daydreaming of something to give them hope and a reason to wake up in the morning.

#avery #asc #ascendant #rising #astro #astrology #all signs

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divinion1990 · 5 years ago

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Things We Do Not Speak Of

~~~~CHAPTER FIVE~~~~~

Read Previous (and this one) here: Tumblr | A03 | fanfiction.net

Summary: Following the Alverez war, Natsu needs to talk to Gray. There is too much left unspoken, events that they haven’t been able to talk through, but he can’t even step through his front door without seeing his friendly stalker outside… Characters: Natsu Dragneel; Gray Fullbuster; Juvia Lockster Ships: Natsu x Gray, Gray x Juvia

“And then he just left?”

“Yeah!” Natsu said again, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the white ceiling of his friend’s apartment. No matter how many times he’d retold the story, both out loud and in his own head, it didn’t make any more sense why it left such a painful sting. Even accounting for the developing jealousy and ‘feelings’ - not that he understood that, either – he still didn’t know how something as simple as words had managed to cut so deep.

Lucy gave a sincere sigh as she leaned back against her bedroom wall. “Well, at least that makes a little more sense…”

“It does?” Natsu asked, suddenly sitting upright.

She hummed thoughtfully under her breath before turning away, disappearing into the logic of the writer and picturing the two leading protagonists unfolding their intentions. “A little, yes. I thought that he’d been away from the guild, and specifically you, because he felt guilty or upset by what you did to Juvia. Of course, he probably is upset at that… but mostly why you did it.”

Natsu looked at her blankly. “I just wanted Juvia to stop hanging around his house.”

She shook her head sharply, looking back to Natsu. “You clearly had good intentions for both of them, but did you really take into account how it would make Gray feel?”

“Yes, of course I did! Like I told him, I wanted him to be happy! It’s not my fault he’s too much of a stuck in the mud to take it!”

“Natsu, that’s not…”

Lucy’s words were cut off by a knock against the window. The both quickly turned, seeing a streak of blue against the dark skies. The paws knocked again, barely audible against the streams of raindrops pelting down the glass.

“Happy!” she gasped, running over to the windowsill and quickly unclasping the latch. “Are you alright?!”

As soon as the window opened, the wet bundle of water burst inside of the room. The poor kitten hopped from one leg to another as the water ran through his fur and down his back and legs. “Aye!” he announced, though his shivering suggested otherwise. Without another word, he darted quickly into the warm radiation of Natsu’s side. He nuzzled into his comforting heat, giving a heartfelt sigh of relief as he began to ring out the last raindrops.

Natsu’s face softened, looking at the distress that his best friend had been put through. His arm wrapped around him gently, subconsciously raising his own temperature by several degrees as he felt his cold rubbing against him. “Did Juvia get all of our messages OK?” he asked him eventually.

Happy nodded, rubbing his little paws together. “Aye! She told me to let everyone know she’s thankful! And that the girls at Fairy Hills are being really really good and taking care of her and giving her hugs and drink and cake and stuff! She didn’t really look happy yet… but Erza said she’d feel better soon!”

Lucy’s face dropped sympathetically, both towards the exceed’s frozen state and to his words. “Poor Juvia,” she whispered, taking a hand towel and wrapping it around the kitten. “I hope that Gray wasn’t too hard on her…”

“You don’t really think he would… do you…?” Happy asked, tail dropping as his ears fell flat against his head.

Lucy’s mouth twisted, torn by both logic and evidence. “I really don’t know. It doesn’t sound like Gray, but then… It must have been something drastic for Juvia to give up all hope for him…”

Happy gave a small sound almost like a squeak, edging just a little closer to Natsu.

The dragon slayer frowned viciously, before hissing “This is Gray we’re talking about…” His jaw tensed, glare staying sharp and refusing to look either of them in the eye. The very accusation cut him just as deeply as those previous, muddled emotions that had been clogging up his mind. But he knew it was true. Even with nothing more to back up his argument, he was certain Gray would not hurt Juvia. Gray didn’t hurt anyone. Especially not someone that he deeply cared about…

At least, that was what he had always believed. But then, what did Natsu know? He had been wrong about the Ice Maker and Rain Woman’s relationship. Wrong about what it meant to make people happy. Wrong about how deep and meaningful his friendship was, and all the assumptions that went with it. Wrong even about his own emotional connection to Gray and what they were and what they could have become, what could have happened if he was just a few minutes later in that-

“Natsu?”

Natsu blinked back at Lucy. He must have zoned off. She was staring at him. Waiting for something.

“Yeah?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t notice he had no idea what she was talking about.

“I wanted to ask… if you’ve managed to talk to Gray since your fight?”

It took a few moments for him to pick apart which ‘fight’ she was talking about. Afterall, this was Gray and Natsu; when was there a time that they didn’t fight? Even he couldn’t play dumb to what she meant though. He frowned and looked away. “I haven’t even seen him since he ditched me the other day…” he admitted.

Lucy’s face crumpled again. Even when he wasn’t watching her he could feel those round, sad eyes staring at him, twisting his insides further. “What about before then? Did he say anything about how he was doing?” she pressed lightly.

Natsu very much wanted to tell Lucy that she had the complete wrong interpretation of their friendship. Natsu and Gray didn’t talk. Gray didn’t say anything. All they did was exchange punches and insults. It didn’t mean that he didn’t want more, didn’t want to have those moments to really talk and to get into those softer moments of kindness, but right now it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Yet again he could feel his eyes on her, waiting for him to talk again. Every pause was lasting an eternity and just letting her down again and again. He only wished he had a better answer. “Last time I really spoke to Gray was probably about two weeks ago,” he admitted with a shrug.

“Two weeks ago? You mean… before the war??” Lucy asked.

“I thought you said that you were going to talk to him this week?” Happy asked, turning his head up towards Natsu and looking at him quizzically.

Somehow, it felt like Natsu was being ganged up on. More disappointment, more of the wrong answers. “Yeah, well, I was… I guess I got a little distracted…” he admitted, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Distracted didn’t even seem to cover it. Running around to repair the guild, protecting his friends, trying to take care of Juvia, every opportunity had been a fork in the road to take him further away from the much-needed conversations. Not that they talked. Not that they were close. Not that he dared stir any unresolved issues.

Lucy and Happy threw each other a concerned look.

Lucy was the first one to lean forward, putting her hand on Natsu’s arm. She pretended to not notice his flinch, even if he tried to cover it with another hand through his hair. “It sounds like you two have a lot to talk about,” she told him softly. “It must have been frustrating for both of you, after… everything…”

Natsu didn’t like the implication to that word. It was filled with far too many things, things that seemed dark and troubling and final. It sent a cooling shiver straight down his spine, and instinctively he pulled just a little further away from her. “It’s fine,” he said with a defiant shake of his head. “I’ll see him around the guild tomorrow or something.”

Lucy smiled faintly. “I think that sounds like a good idea.”

“I heard they’re going to put the last repairs on the mission board. We could pick up a couple of them.”

Lucy’s expression sank just a little, somewhere between her usual reluctance and a concern that ran even deeper. “Maybe the two of you working together on a repair isn’t the best idea... Could you just go out and talk? It doesn’t have to be a mission or job…”

Again, that clarity that Lucy was painfully oblivious to what Gray and Natsu did, but if Natsu was honest with himself he didn’t know himself either. They’d spent almost every day of their lives by each other’s side, mostly by accident, and he still couldn’t explain what it meant to spend any time with him. He hadn’t even known where his house was…

“You can decide in the morning,” Lucy decided for him, standing swiftly and stretching in an almost hinting way. “I’m going to bed.”

“…We should probably get going.”

Lucy opened one eye curiously. Happy looked up at Natsu, watching as he stood slowly. “We’re not staying here?” the exceed asked him.

Natsu shook his head. “You can stay here if you want, but I’m heading back to the house.” He wasn’t particularly tired anyway, not yet. The walk would be long and smothered in darkness, and he could only hope that it would be enough to exhaust him into the open arms of his bed.

Lucy couldn’t conceal her disappointment, not entirely. But she was powerless against the stubborn dragon slayer, pouting as she sat back. “OK, stay safe Natsu…” she told him in a small voice.

Words could not express how much he wanted that for her, too. He hovered where he stood, the drumming of rain attacking the windows and making it impossible to think of the right thing to say. Eventually, he gave up, shaking his head as he made his way out into the cold.

#Fairy Tail #Gratsu #juvia lockster #Angst #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster

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calleo-bricriu · 5 years ago

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what's the de sade ripoff book like anyway?

It’s like listening to someone who thinks they’re a genius but who’s really sort of–slightly below average at everything ramble on and on and on for over 400 pages about how they’re a genius and everyone around them is making their life horrible because they don’t understand how much of a genius he is.

Also, alcohol isn’t a stimulant at all, let alone a strong one. I guess, to be entirely fair, if I found out my Mum had a sex dungeon in the house I’d probably need a drink as well.

A lot of drinks.

And an Obliviator.

Finding out your mum has a sex dungeon is a pretty reasonable excuse to drink a lot.

Anyway, this author is allegedly a doctor, he ought to know damn well alcohol isn’t a stimulant.

I really do just love how it’s the same exact story, only with worse writing and set in Dresden–then Hamburg–then…New York City.

Some guy named Newcomber completely flips out any time someone says a woman’s name around him in his own house. It’s never explained why. I feel like that should have been an important plot point? Maybe he’s assuming everyone’s already read the book he blatantly lifted from.

Men just need to not be allowed to describe women in their books if they’re going to do it like this: “Seated in a large leathern chair was a dainty piece of pink-cheeked, dark-haired, ebon-eyed femininity. Her sealskin jacket fitted snugly her lithe form, and a fascinating toque rounded off the saucy, childlike appearance of the young woman.”

That’s the sort of description that makes you feel like you need to run a Scourgify through your entire brain.

I’ve read, as I mentioned yesterday, de Sade; all of his uncensored garbage and the difference is, de Sade knew he was a shite writer.

He was just one of those obnoxious people that feels the need to be edgy for shock value; to get a reaction. He wasn’t ever trying to be good at it, he just wanted to get a reaction and have people pay attention to him, which he got–usually in the form of prison.But, the end result of that is that his writing aged in a way that makes it so completely off the wall ridiculous that it’s more funny and less shocking now.

Like–right, if you’ve never read 120 Days of Sodom you should, because all it is is this list of increasingly improbable to impossible scenarios, in actual list form, that are discussed by the characters like they’re going over a list of chores they need to do that afternoon.

One involved mice and cannons, actual cannons, that somehow didn’t result in death or injury to anyone (including the mice), another had to do with somehow arranging it so a woman would give birth to a goat, which would then become a sex slave–the goat, not the woman, I think he forgot there was a woman involved in that one by the time he got to the impossible goat baby–and when you read something like that, you know damn well the person writing it was writing what they were writing as bait to see how mad people would get about it.

This idiot, however, didn’t appear to get the joke and is taking his own…version of Justine very, very seriously which leaves you more with a really creeped out feeling than a, “HA! I can’t believe anyone fell for this, it’s so obviously written as over the top with intent to offend people too stupid to get the joke,” sort of thing.

So, moving on from the creepy description of childlike femininity–and who says woman like that anyway?

Ms. Femininity gets up and gives the, “Never Say A Woman’s Name In My House For Any Reason Ever” Newcomber a kiss and he just sort of shrugs it off, which makes her concerned but since he never bothered detailing whatever backstory these two have I guess I’m just supposed to make one up. Guessing that, because it was described as “armorous” they’re lovers but, it might have had more of an impact if he’d–mentioned that previously at some point?

This is only page sixteen, as an aside.

She was gossiping with his mom and mom let slip that he was leaving Dresden and she’s upset but again, no backstory given between these two so we don’t even know how or why she knows his mother. All we know about that relationship is that his mom grosses him out probably because of the sex dungeon thing, which is a fair reason to not want to visit your mother’s house.

So he’s pretty meh about the kiss hello, she loses her mind about it and says he’s being cruel then flings herself onto the sofa for a good cry about which he doesn’t even care.

His name is Leigh, apparently, which is a perfectly common German name, as is Newcomber..

And she’s–Tahitian (but upper class, he’s emphasised that, can’t have him screwing around with a commoner from Tahiti, obviously) and grew up in…Honolulu and got married to a US Navy officer two years before she met the guy in Dresden that she just kissed and is now crying over while the author scrambles for a backstory.

Great, got married at sixteen, is now referred to as a “child-wife” and somehow his deployment from Honolulu landed her in…Dresden.

He should have known not to leave her alone in Dresden because, since she’s Tahitian, that means she’s just going to start cheating on him the second his back is turned (which appears to be what’s happening here).

An entire page later, we find out her name is Obera, and the guy whose mom has a sex dungeon who straight up ignores her is apparently the love of her life despite the fact that all we’ve seen so far is that he’s straight up not the least bit interested in her.

That finally ended and we’re back to her crying on the sofa and he tells her to knock it off because it makes him feel mean–when he was just mean to her not even two full pages ago. Leigh’s got a terrible memory, I guess.

“Finely-molded limbs”. Stop it.

A few paragraphs of Obera going on about how Leigh’s sister, Mizpra, is a complete and utter bitch and Leigh agreeing with her that Mizpra is, in fact, a complete and utter bitch. I might be too if my name were Mizpra.

At this point, in the middle of Obera trying to explain some theological lecture she attended, the author butts in to tell us that the lectures are FACTS then references some article in Popular Science Monthly from May 1989 called, “Witchcraft in Bavaria” right after Leigh starts talking about how Dresden has lousy weather and they’re going to the Rhine because the climate is that much different–five hours barely South and mostly West of Dresden, though it might be closer depending on where along the Rhine they’re going; its a river, and it’s not exactly a short one.

It also apparently has a climate similar to Honolulu which tells me he’s never been to either place but, it’s fiction, so why the hell not?

I’m only on page 22 now, as an aside.

Suffer with me, this is awful.

So he’s already planned this whole thing, someone named Frau Leidmann will lie to everyone and tell them that Obera is traveling with some old woman, he’s sending a telegram from…New York asking her to meet some made up person in Hamburg which, incidentally, is five hours North of Dresden and if you’re trying to aim for a warmer, closer to Honolulu climate here, you don’t want to be going North but okay, fine, we’re going to Hamburg.

Author really ought to have consulted a map before writing this.

“Was it right that he should take her with him and wreck her life?” Um–if you have to ask…

Wonderful, well, at least by now she’s 18 because she got married two years previously at 16.

By page 23 he’s essentially admitted he doesn’t like her much at all but she’s hot and young so he’s going with that. Not creepy at all.

“He would throw her aside as he would any other obstacle. Was this love?” …no. We established that two paragraphs ago when his thought was straight up that he didn’t love her.

Can’t take her back to the US with him but–he’s–that part was never mentioned at any point, as far as we’ve known until page 24 is that the guy lives in Dresden, his sister is a bitch, and his mom has a sex dungeon.

Nothing dignified about his appearance, likes his laboratory, doesn’t have a real job, nobody understands him, I’m starting to think it’s less that his sister is a bitch and more that he’s just kind of a whiny creep.

So, that’s the end of chapter 1.

Chapter two starts with him explaining why he named one of his dogs Bridget and why he’s mad that Obera could not possibly care less. I couldn’t possibly care less either but he explains it anyway in the weirdest possible way, “They do not associate the name with the beautiful, refined, and historically interesting woman who gave it such prominence. How can you associate a noisy, china-breaking, red-headed, befuzzled, opinionated ruler of the kitchen with Bridget the Goddess of Poetry, the Gaelic Muse, the sentimental, impulsive Sappho of ancient Ireland?”

Man, don’t talk about your dog that way, just don’t. I don’t like where you’re going with it.

Dagda gets a much shorter, “he was the all-king, almost the Zeus of ancient Ireland.”

Ah, and Obera is, of course, a princess. A Tahitian princess.

From Honolulu.

Which is famously in Tahiti and not a six hour flight–a thing that didn’t exactly exist in 1901 so I’m assuming it would have taken a hell of a lot longer by boat–North on an entirely different set of islands.

Okay.

You know, at least de Sade knew where physical locations of places were.

Do you know how bad something as to be that, not even 35 full pages in, you can not only recognise it as a direct derivative work of the Marquis de Sade but also have it be abundantly clear that it’s, like, a version of it so poorly done that the only reason you’re still reading it is because you kind of now want to see just how much more idiotic the story can get?

That’s what this book is like.

“He arose and went to her, took her on his lap, and talked to her as though she were a child.” No. No, stop that right now.

Four pages of him explaining that the reason why he ordered, ordered, her to read a childrens book was to prove to her how all folk tales are all the same and nothing is original and something about random Greek philosophers, then Why Catholics Are Right.

I might have been as bored reading that as Obera probably was having to listen to it.

HA! SHE FELL ASLEEP WHILE HE WAS TALKING!

She has a nap, wakes up later, and has somehow…uh…received a letter from that guy she married in Honolulu basically saying, “We both made a mistake. Divorce time.” and is somehow upset by this despite it being established in the last chapter that she wasn’t super interested in him anyway as the first thing she did when he ended up deployed was start fucking this idiot of a pseudo-intellectual.

…and this is somehow Mizpra’s fault, so I’m assuming she tattled, then he straight up jumps from, “Yeah I don’t love her, she’s just hot I guess” to “I LOVE YOU LET’S GET MARRIED DEFINITELY NOT TO SPITE MY SISTER!”

That’s not sarcasm. That’s exactly what it was. Right after he does the, “I love you! I’ll marry you!” (twice in a row at that, nobody talks like that) he moves right onto “the bitch can’t laugh at you getting busted cheating if we get married” which is not entirely sound logic but that’s where we’re going.

Robert Mesney hopefully got out of this stupid plot by realising what was going on and filing for divorce.

Actually, he doesn’t even ask her to marry him he tells her that he’s going to marry her and doesn’t give her the option to object which I guess is just fine because at some point during his rant about his sister being a tattling bitch Obera fainted and he just…didn’t notice until he let her go and she fell over because of the being unconscious thing. Even then he didn’t really care, he just sort of went, “Oh.” and dropped her back on the bed.

Now she’s talking about his “aged countenance” which might be a little more fair if it hadn’t been mentioned that he’s 25. It’s not exactly old enough to count as “aged countenance”.

Apparently he’s also an alcoholic, which they keep referring to as dipsomania. Good idea, marry the 25 year old alcoholic who the plot has established doesn’t even love you (nor has he shown it at any point in their interactions apart from shouting it at her after finding out his sister told her soon-to-be-ex-husband that Obera was cheating on him), that’ll go well for everyone involved. I don’t see what could possibly go wrong here.

The servant at this place in Hamburg has been going on for five and a half pages about how Leigh is a drunk and how it’s his mother’s fault or something then just rambling on about his own family tree for no actual reason and how he’s somehow related to Leigh but also is looking forward to the time when the last Newcomber dies.

That’s chapter 2.

Chapter 3 starts with the fact that Leigh said he’d be back by lunch and it’s been three days and he’s still not back; I guess, to be fair, he didn’t say by lunch on which day.

He’s just out binge drinking in Hamburg.

Shows up four days later at four in the morning and immediately starts drinking again and none of this is a red flag for her.

Now they’re–he’s going to Paris, she’s going back to…the US from Havre, and he’s somehow decided it’s a better idea for him to not also go to the US via Havre but to instead go to Liverpool and leave from there. Okay.

This is only page 44 out of 408.

Mizpra wants to control their mother to snag most of her estate out from under Leigh, it appears as though she’s just his stepsister anyway, Mrs. Kassel is apparently a nice lady because the author hammers that point away for a good two solid pages and she’s going to New York with Obera because she apparently owns a house on Fifth Avenue.

All right.

She just randomly tells Obera that crooked noses and mental illness (sorry, “bad psychic quality”) runs in the family. Still no red flags for Obera.

Skips right to the wedding which has…no detail at all. Literally the only mention it gets after all of that build up is, “The wedding took place at Mrs. Kassel’s, who attended to every detail,” then moves right on to Leigh getting a flat in uptown and a job at a hospital and to mention that his mother’s letters were “curt, unresponsive, and insulting” for which he blames Mizpra.

Couldn’t be the fact that he ran off to the US with a still married 18 year old without telling anyone, why would that bother someone’s mother?

He either gets fired or quits at the hospital, it was never mentioned either way, and has irregular work so now they’re behind on bills and Obera’s “condition” requires quiet and rest and…Mrs. Kassel to take her on a vacation I guess. Time skip from spring to autumn and, to nobody’s surprise, Obera comes back with a baby and her idiot of a husband is still unemployed and also didn’t seem to notice or care that she was gone (because that’s never mentioned) for almost a year.

By this point, Leigh straight up hates his mom and Mizpra is a “moral criminal” but it’s not explained how, just that she is.

Mom, Mizpra, and a whole bunch of their maids suddenly turn up at an uptown hotel and he just–takes off to go and see them despite having spent the last few pages going on about how he can’t stand either of them.

Sister’s got masculine handwriting which is somehow important to know.

Oh, let’s see, what else are we learning about Mizpra: Large jaws, muscled neck, small hips, uncomely waist, large hands, bold frame, coarse features, a “masculine larynx” and she–author keeps refering to Mizpra as she so that’s what I’m going with here–tells him to fuck off and that she’ll call the police if he tries to see mother.

So, instead of trying to reason with her (also why did they come over from Desden if they didn’t want to see him?) he just tells her she looks like a man.

“Mother doesn’t want to see you.”

“YEAH, WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A MAN! CHECKMATE! I AM SUCH AN INTELLECTUAL!”

Great display of the long winded nonsense the author gave everyone about what an intelligent intellectual this idiot is; best he can come up with is to tell his sister she looks like a man.

He still doesn’t have a job.

It’s been almost an entire year, how have they not been evicted from that flat yet?

Oh, but he has money to go out and get trashed again, though.

And he’s rambling to the bartender about people staring at “crippled children” for some fucking reason while the bartender pretty much pretends to listen.

He drinks because he’s a genius. That’s it. That’s the reason. He’s a genius and nobody gets him so he drinks.

58 pages in and I can kind of see why this guy’s sister doesn’t particularly care for him. I don’t particularly care for him either and, so far, am kind of on Mizpra’s side on this one.

Random name dropping list of famous people who had epilepsy or who were alcoholics or drug addicts. For an entire five pages. Nothing else, just a list, until he gets to Edgar Allan Poe who apparently had a psychic incubus problem instead.

One long paragraph held together by semicolons that says nothing at all.

Five pages about how his drinking problem is literally just like lycanthropy only, instead of turning into a wolf, he just goes to a pub and does so more often than once every full moon.

Same thing though. Exactly like lycanthropy which we all know is caused by thinking you’re a genius then being mad that nobody else agrees with that self-assessment.

More internal dialogue about how everybody is an idiot except him, because he’s a genius that nobody understands.

Somehow.

A few more pages of comparing himself to Nero which is not strictly the best comparison someone could make unless he’s planning to burn New York City down.

Couple of pages of internal dialogue about how he shouldn’t have to get a job because he’s a genius and people should just pay him to grace them with his presence.

End of Chapter 4 and I can’t keep reading this anymore today. This might be the worst thing I’ve ever read and not at all for the reasons the author was intending; it’s not shocking unless you’re shocked by how badly it’s written.

It’s so bad it’s almost exhausting.

#painfully bad literature #books #I actually wish I could go back in time just to beat this guy to death with his own 400 page manifesto #about this genius that isn't even remotely close to being one #and also kind of for the whole Edgar Allan Poe was killed by a psychic incubus thing #The terrible medical advice I can kind of overlook because most of it was like that #hp rp #long post

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adamwatchesmovies · 6 years ago

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The Worst of 2018

Before we dig into my Worst of 2018 list, let’s make something clear. Making movies is hard. I may be criticizing people’s efforts but am fully aware that they’ve all accomplished far more than I have by making an actual movie. Even the worst film on this list is still a fully-functional production that someone somewhere might enjoy... theoretically at least. If you were somehow involved in anything made on this list, I know you can do better. With that said, I sat through all of these, some multiple times and suffered so it’s time for me to get my revenge. How many were on the list I made halfway through the year, and how many new entries have we got?

10. 2.0

I typically reserve my #10 spot for a movie so bad it’s good and 2.0 is just that. Part techno-horror, part supernatural thriller, part superhero adventure, part sci-fi action movie, it goes in all sorts of outrageous directions. This one’s a gem, a picture I’d like to bring home and show to my friends on our weekly movie nights to hear their screeches of disbelief. I had a blast with it but legitimately good? Nah.

9. Show Dogs

I have some affection for this film as well. It’s awful, even as low-grade children’s entertainment. The plot has no idea what it’s doing and can’t figure out its own rules. The special effects are dodgy, premise idiotic, and jokes bad. And yet, I treasure seeing it in theatres. Soon after its release, a specific scene stirred uproar within parents and critics alike. This prompted the studio to re-edit the film. The scene in question concerns Ludacris’ character, talking police dog Max getting ready for the dog show he needs to infiltrate in order to discover who has kidnapped a baby panda. His partner, FBI agent Frank Nicholas (Will Arnett) explains that part of the competition involves the dogs getting their genitals inspected by the judges. In real-life, it’s to ensure the animals are capable of breeding. Finding the idea of someone fondling his junk without his consent intolerable, Max is told to escape the situation by going to his “zen place”. I didn’t take offense to it but understand why others would. I doubt the scene is available in the home release’s deleted scenes menu so I count myself among the few who saw the original cut.

8. Selfie from Hell, Slenderman & Truth or Dare

I’m lumping these three together because they all suffer from the same problem. They were doomed from the start. “What if a game of Truth or Dare… was fatal?” What if you could only take 13 selfies before a supernatural entity came after you?”, “What if severe head trauma caused H.P. Lovecraft’s intelligence to plunge and he set “The Call of Cthulhu” in the 21st century?” seemed to have been the opening pitches for these would-be spookfests. None featured any scares or compelling characters. I doubt anyone will remember any of these by the time 2019 ends.

7. Robin Hood

Many of 2018's films ended by assuring us that more was yet to come. Robin Hood should've saved itself the embarrassment of being yet another aspiring franchise which failed to take off and been self-contained. It failed because it tried to be a superhero film when it should’ve simply been a movie about Robin Hood. This story by Ben Chandler steals so many ideas from Batman you almost forget to criticize the costumes, the impossible action sequences, and Jamie Foxx’s bad performance. It’s dripping with “tries too hard”.

6. Life of the Party

Boy does Melissa McCarthy need a new Agent. Her and Tiffany Haddish actually. Life of the Party is all-around lazy. It hardly has a plot. Instead, it throws one scene after another, praying something will stick. This film about a newly-divorced mother who goes back to college to reconnect with her daughter can’t even get its characters right. In some scenes, McCarthy’s Deanna is mousey and unable to give a speech to the class. In others, she’s such a partier she ends up wrecking everything for everyone around her. I hated the film’s conclusion worst of all, a deus-ex-machina of an ending which has nothing to do with anything and feels like it was hastily shot when director Ben Falcone and co-writer/spouse McCarthy realized the film they made wasn’t amounting to anything.

5. Fifty Shades Freed

Fifty Shades Darker was terrible. It began by immediately undoing the ending of the previous film but at least it was building up to something while introducing us its equivalent of the Legion of Doom, a trio of villains all of which would converge and attempt to ruin the relationship between Anastasia Steele, and Christian Grey… or not. This third and final chapter struggles to find something to do for the first three quarters and then suddenly introduces a thriller element before rapidly concluding it and showing us the end credits. The unrated version released on home video filled in a couple of holes (such as Kim Basinger’s disappearing character) but those holes shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Between the un-erotic sex scenes, we’re treated to lame melodrama and further proof this trilogy is completely oblivious to matters of love and relationship. Even if it had been well acted and gave fans some satisfaction by adequately tackling some of the bigger questions the series posed, it would’ve still been bad.

4. Venom

I didn’t want to listen to people who proclaimed Venom would never work. The character has appeared in solo adventures before. There’s nothing to say a talented writer couldn’t make one of Spider-Man’s most well-known archenemies work on his own. Or maybe not. This is an appallingly written film full of plot holes, vaguely defined powers, bad humor, and illogical actions. In many ways, it reminds you of films like Ghost Rider and Catwoman. In a way, it’s worse than either because everyone involved should’ve known better. Making its flaws doubly apparent is the film Upgrade, released earlier during the year. It essentially did what this film wanted to but better, funnier and more inventively. It’s extra funny that Upgrade features Logan Marshall-Green, who looks a lot like Tom Hardy, making the pair a perfect double feature if you like to compare bad movies with good ones and discuss them with friends.

3. A Wrinkle in Time and The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

These Disney films, the first directed by Ava DuVernay and the second by a combined effort by Lasse Hallström and Joe Johnston, wanted to be empowering female-led fantasy adventures. A Wrinkle in Time is historic in that it’s the first $100 million+ film directed by a woman of color. This makes it extra disappointing because it’s awful. Both tales are filled with developments who inspire you to say “but I don’t care”. Overrelying on visual razzle-dazzle, neither of these had any substance whatsoever. I blame the writers, who took the original stories and tried to make them into something they weren’t. Much of AWiT could’ve worked if the story had kept some of its novels' Christian themes. Then the evil black cloud who does evil for evil’s sake would’ve simply been Satan and wouldn't have seemed nearly as lazy and underwhelming. By attempting to force The Nutcracker and the Mouse King into the same mould as Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland (another bad film), you robbed the ballet of any potential charm. In many ways, these are worse than most of the others on my list because you keep hoping something would turn around and because they’re not obviously bad, at least not at first. They fill you with false hope.

2. Life Itself

I should’ve known this Dan Fogelman creation was trouble from the advertisements, which built it up as this epic tale containing all of the universes’ deepest truths. I sat there aghast as one corny development followed another. This tries to be poetry in motion, this grandiose tale about the bonds which connect us and not one second works. It’s utterly ridiculous, so bad it might be funny except you’ll be bored by its nearly 2-hour running time.

The Runner ups:

Nobody’s Fool & Night School

Both featured Tiffany Haddish who is rapidly burning through any goodwill she might’ve earned with her breakout role in Girls Trip.

Holmes & Watson

Bad movie but it made me laugh more than the other films on this list

Book Club

A film I’m kicking myself for not being harder on when I first reviewed it but take comfort in the fact it seems to have dropped off the earth completely.

1. The 15:17 to Paris

Agonizingly dull, The 15:17 to Paris was well-intentioned. That doesn’t translate to “entertaining”. Most of this film’s 94 minutes are spent watching the real life Spencer Stone, Anthony Sadler and Alek Skarlatos vacationing through Europe, periodically flashing back to the time when they met and were the real-life non-actors were played by equally bad child performers. I hated this flat slab of propaganda masquerading as entertainment so much after it was over I had to turn to the other people around me and ask them what we just saw.

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xmoonyxbunnyx · 7 years ago

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Blinded

(I somehow forgot to post this fic here I’m- Anyway, warning for physical abuse and blood, I dunno, that’s it.) Ever since the entity emerged the atmosphere in the office had shifted. The whole building, in fact, took on an aura of heaviness and discomfort. It was subtle, but many of them felt it regardless. Whenever Dark left, his return was taken with unspoken but shared displeasure. Well, save for Wilford and Google. Hence, it was not surprising that three egos - the Author, Bim and doctor Iplier sat secluded from the ones indifferent or even happy about the start of another meeting. Oddly enough, Dark was late.

Having the additional time was sure to spark a conversation, and the catalyst in this case was a snide remark in form of a mutter on the writer’s part. “Funny how we’re expected to potentially waste a whole day in this shithole, and yet wasting his time is almost punishable by death.” “He does hold the position of the most influential, you know. After Wilford here, that is.” Bim countered, although a hint of distaste swept through the cheerful tone, noted by both other parties at his sides. “Sure, sure, hierarchy and all that shit. Don’t have to rub it in my face.” The Author rolled his eyes, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest. “Y’got nothing to add, Doc?” Only at the mention of his title did the medical ego acknowledge the conversation. Or at least that he was considered a part of it. Really, all he had to add was a shrug. He seemed to be more preoccupied with his own grudges, if it were to be judged by a glare stuck to the oblivious pink haired man at the other side of the table. “Well fine, I suppose emo boy gets all the rights to be an absolute dick-” The writer’s words fell flat as he noticed all eyes were set on him. No, not quite on him. More to the left. Then he heard it. The faintest ringing that had drawn his eyes towards the side, only to meet nearly entirely black glare directed at him, paired with a displeased frown. “Care to join me for a talk, at my office?” Inquiry followed up by, “everyone else is dismissed for the day,” not leaving the targeted one even a chance to attempt objecting. It wasn’t the small remark that set Dark’s decision in stone though. It was just an excuse to finally get the chance without it seeming out of the blue. And it would not make the others question it as much. It was all about planning with him, to the most miniscule detail. As the door clicked against its frame behind the younger looking ego, a wave of insecurity washed over him. Not a common emotion he felt, even less of one he liked to express. On the contrary, Dark’s stance was towering as he turned to face the other, unable to hide the immense satisfaction with how this was playing out. Concealed within the four walls of his office, darkened, isolated inside his world from the moment they entered. “You’ve been a bother to me since day one, Author. It’s amusing to me, how you knew this, and yet, you still tested my authority.” His words serpentine, steps carrying him ever so close to the reality bender. “Daring for someone who only has the power with a pen in hand.” “It’s at your disposal anyway. And I shit talk everyone, don’t feel special.” The Author either held his grounds very well, or truly had no filter. Either way, it wasn’t too wise to grin in the face of darkness like that. Which was proven right once Dark’s hand grasped at the black fabric of his shirt, pulling him uncomfortably close. “Mayhaps you should treat me as special. As for the ‘at my disposal’ part, you are correct. Hence, I’ll make them more convenient, if you don’t mind.” If it weren’t for that uncanny sneer, it may have sounded like a good offer. But knowing the entity, it could not have possibly been beneficial for the writer. Even that thought was questionable as the bichromatically outlined ego tacked another sentence on. “I need a right hand man that is actually useful at any given situation.” Perhaps if he was given the chance, the Author would have posed a few questions about what was said. Firstly, a right hand man? And secondly, no one was truly aware of the extent Dark’s abilities reached to, but to alter other egos? Both were soon to be answered through the suited man’s actions though. As Dark easily lifted the other, to slam him on the desk, pinning his hands over his chest with one arm, the other free to reach for a pen conveniently situated there before it rolled off. “What the hell!?” The young ego protested, proving quite troublesome to keep in place. “Not to worry, dear Author, it will be done with quickly.” The gray entity falsely reassured, a sadistic spark in his lifeless eyes giving the pinned man a clear idea of what he was about to go through. It gave him the much needed adrenaline boost to try and shove the other off of himself; all in vain. “You sick fuck!” Last desperate call out he could manage. Dark paid it no mind as he drove the tip of the pen deep into the writer’s eye socket. Not even minding the pleads to stop, nor how the other jerked his head away causing deep scratches along the side of his face. No, the head of the egos simply moved onto the other eye, repeating the action, and stepping back abruptly as soon as he was sure the optic nerves were damaged beyond repair. For the injured one to slip onto the floor, frantically trying to press against the sockets and flinching every time due to the unbearable stinging. “Scream as much as you’d like. No one can hear you but myself.” Dark blandly noted. Although the Author could hear it was said through smiling lips, his senses were overwhelmed far too much to acknowledge the entirely new level of hate he felt for the desaturated man. He would not give him the satisfaction past the gasps and groans, almost choking on them, but not letting any sounds pass the threshold of the door. Slightly disappointed he was, Dark had to admit. Oh well, that couldn’t be helped. His features contorted into an expression of disgust, but the looming shadows still regressed from the room, situating solely in his immediate vicinity. “Fine. I’ll send the Doctor your way immediately.” He spat out, turning to head out. A pause as the door was opened to look at the bleeding mess of a man over his shoulder. “Ah and, you’re welcome.” As soon as the sound of it slamming closed echoed out, the writer reached for the edge of the desk, finding it, but having a bit of trouble when he pushed himself up. His hand being drenched in crimson made it slip a few times under his weight, but he managed to keep the grip there long enough to prop his frame up. Navigating to the door though? It was a straight line, how hard could it be? With how distressed the writer was, very hard. Orientation went out the window, coherent thinking was near impossible… All there was, was the looping thought - get out of here. But he was still locked in place. Legs refusing to cooperate, uncertain of where to head, busy trying to blink away the darkness he knew would never leave him again. And then, a panic induced moment of clarity. He took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds. Calm down. Speak. “The Author stood by--” Sharp inhale that pained him cut the sentence off, however, only for it’s duration. “By the desk. Turning his head to the right, he was now facing the door.” It caught the ego by surprise. The narration leading his thoughts instead of the other way around. With writing, it was always his intention. And now… Understandable. Knowing was of more use than changing minor details. And before he could think again, he continued, his hearing confirming the words. “As he was about to move, a pair of footsteps approaching from the hallway caught his attention.” Indeed, he did tense up as someone entered. But the immediate hurried steps assured him it was not Dark. “What did he do to you-” Shock prominent in the voice he recognised as doctor Iplier’s but the slightly higher pitch and naturally softer intonation. He didn’t respond. It was fairly obvious after all. Feeling a hand coil around his wrist, slight flinch as he fought off the urge to completely jerk it away. “Come on, I’ll...I’ll do all I can to tend to the wounds.” To tend to the wounds. He wasn’t getting his vision back. The doctor phrased it well enough to make that clear at just a glance. Consciously or not, that was the fact that shattered last threads of hope the former writer didn’t even realise he held onto. No more writing stories, only narrating what is to come.

#markiplier egos #fanfiction #darkiplier #tw blood #the author #the host #moony writings

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seethatgirl3 · 7 years ago

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Dirty Little Secret //Draco Imagine//

Requested by: @ignitorwriter

Request: Hi, I just wanted to tell you that you are a really talented writer I am so addicted to reading all your content. Can you do a Draco Malfoy imagine where the relationship between him and a Hufflepuff is a secret. Then after Slytherin wins the championship he kisses the reader in the stands and the aftermath. Lots of fluff and sweetness please! SUPER BIG hug and thank you if you write this!

Warnings: none

Pairing: Draco x reader

A/n: this request is adorable!! I had so much fun writing it!! Thank you for requesting it!! I tried really hard on this one so I hope it shows lol! Also thank you so much for reading my imagines and complimenting my writing!! It means so much to me!! Thank you thank you thank you thank you!

______

Most people hide their secrets in the darkness. They push them into the corner of themselves where the shadows and blackness consume them. They hide them in places no other would think of, somewhere only their imagination reaches and there, they are safe. They are unnoticed, untouched, and invisible. Unlike most people, you only had one secret. One dirty little secret that was better off left untold. And unlike most people, you hid it in the light. You hid it in the places people thought of daily, the brightest corridors and rooms and yet somehow, you managed to keep it invisible to everyone else. As risky as it was to keep such a secret out in the openness of the light, you couldn’t bare to push it into the darkness. You couldn’t bare to see something made of light itself, succumb to the darkness it was expected to live in. It didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve that. Your secret was a bit more complicated than most but that made it all more of a secret. Your secret had a heart, lungs and two eyes that sparkled like the water of the ocean. He had hair like ice in the winter and lips as soft and pink as rose petals, and his name was Draco Malfoy.

+++

A soft glow of light shone through the glass of the Slytherin boys dormitory and illuminated the room in a silky golden glow and in that light, was your dirty little secret, right where he should be. He laid beside you on one of the hunter green beds, propped up on his elbow with his ocean blue eyes glued to your less vivid ones. His slender finger wound a strand of your silky hair around it and without breaking his courteous stare, he pushed it behind your ear and let his fingers trail themselves down your jawline until they hung at your chin.

“You’re so beautiful.” he spoke, the words barely even escaping his lips but you heard them. You always heard him, even when he wasn’t talking.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You replied, lifting your palm to his cheek and running the palm of your thumb over the lips you knew so well. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips and you felt him sink into your touch, his cheek pushed against your palm and his eyelids fluttered closed, a content sigh barely brushing through his nostrils. “Draco?” Your voice was soft and for a moment you didn’t know if he had heard you or not but after a second, he opened his eyes again, a soft hum rattling in his throat. “Have you ever-- do you ever want to tell people about me?”

“Do I ever want to tell anyone about you?” Draco bit the inside of his bottom lip as he pushed himself up only to let himself back down with each of his hands on either side of your shoulders. His disheveled hair fell towards you and into his face as he hovered over you. “Do I ever want to tell anyone about you?” a quiet laugh echoed in his throat. “Baby, I want to tell every single person I know. I want everyone to know that you are mine and I want everyone to know that you are the happiness behind my smile and the twinkle in my eye. I want to scream it to the entire world. I want every single person alive, muggle or not, to know that I am in love with Y/n Y/l/n.”

Draco lowered himself to your neck where his lips attached themselves to your soft skin and his alabaster hair tickled your chin. Your fingers wrapped themselves into his silky white hair and your eyes fluttered shut as he tenderly took your skin between his teeth and sucked a bruise no bigger than a quarter onto your clear complexion. He lifted his head, a smile plastered on his pretty lips. “Mine.” was all he said before letting himself fall once more, this time onto your own lips. He tasted sweet and warm and like everything you wanted to taste. When he pulled himself away, the warmth of his lips lingered you felt it in every inch of your body. Even your fingertips flared with the warmth he had given you.

“Will you come to the Quidditch game tonight? I know you don’t usually like to watch them but it’s the championship and it would really mean alot to me if you come.” Draco rolled himself off of you and sat beside you. He rested his hands in his lap even though he wanted nothing more than to run his fingers over every square inch of your body. You propped yourself up on the pillow and sighed.

“Yeah...I’ll come. But that better mean you win.” You warned him and Draco laughed.

“With you there, I have no doubts.” Draco smiled and leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “I have to go get ready for warm ups...You’d better get back to the common room before people come back.”

“Okay….I love you.” You kissed the corner of his lips as you slid off the bed and moved the the doorway, a soft “I love you too” following you out.

+++

A cool breeze brushed past your red cheeks and even with your Hufflepuff hat on, your ears were still cold. You had buried your fingers into your sweatshirt and watched with anticipation as a Slytherin chaser zoomed towards one of the goal hoops. You held back a cheer as it went passed the Gryffindor keeper and flew into the hoop. You could see Draco, high above the others with his fist in the air and a cheer on his lips. You could only imagine how pink his cheeks were up there and how red the tip of his nose may be.

About two hours later, Slytherin was losing by a lot. Gryffindor had a good keeper and two determined beaters and Slytherin just couldn’t seem to keep up.

“Looks like Gryffindor is about to take the steal again! Just like first year, remember that Y/n?” Hannah laughed and you nodded.

“Sure does…” Your breath hung in front of you as you watched the field intensely. You sucked in a quick breath as all of a sudden Draco began diving towards the ground, his blond hair flapping behind him and his Quidditch robes flew wildly in the wind.

“Oi, what’s he doing?” Hannah spoke again but this time you didn’t respond. You gripped a handful of your sweatshirt in your fingers and bit your lip, watching as your secret boyfriend pulled his broom flat. The stadium was filled then with the loud roars of cheering and howling of witches and wizards and in the middle of all of it, was Draco, the golden snitch clutched tightly in his fingers.

“Slytherin wins the championship!”

The players descended and Draco was engulfed in the arms of each and everyone of them as they thanked him and applauded him.

“Look, they’re running onto the field,” Hannah pointed to the field where you saw a crowd of people, some from Ravenclaw, some from Gryffindor and even some from Hufflepuff running towards the players. “It’d be a shame to miss out on the fun. Come with?” Hannah moved towards the stairs and after a second, you jogged after her.

You followed as Hannah flew down the stairs and towards the field. You sometimes wondered how it was she ended up on Hufflepuff. Surly she belonged in Gryffindor more than Hufflepuff for her outgoingness and sense of adventure.

The air seemed even cooler once you got onto the field and instantly you felt your cheeks flush red. You ran after Hannah, your black and yellow scarf dancing behind you and your fingertips all but forgetting the chill in the air. You could see Draco from where you were, surrounded by his teammates who were still in the process of congratulating him and patting his shoulders, smiles obvious on each and every one of their faces. Draco’s was the brightest.

It wasn’t long until he spotted you and his smile grew twice its size. You furrowed your eyebrows as he began pulling away from his supporters and pushing other fans to the side.

“Draco, what are you do-” your sentence was cut short by Draco’s frost bitten lips colliding with your own and his frozen fingers embracing each side of your flushed cheeks. You didn’t move at first, afraid he had made a mistake. Surely he wanted to continue keeping this a secret, right? After a moment you knew this was one hundred percent intentional and so of course, you kissed him back. You kissed him with every ounce of your soul. You kissed him until your lips hurt, until the only thing you could feel was his hands on your face and his warm breath on your lips. You kissed him until the warmth in your lips was enough to warm your entire frozen body, and when he pulled away all you could think of was him him h i m.

“I can’t do this anymore Y/n,” Draco stroked your cheek, his sea blue eyes lost in yours entirely. “I love you and I want to be with you. Screw everybody else. As long as I have you, I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks...just you. I want the entire world to know that you’re mine and that I’m yours and I want to hold your hand and kiss you whenever I feel like it, I want to show you off and make all of my friends jealous. I want you, Y/n, and I don’t care -- I don’t care about anyone else Y/n. Not my mom, not my dad...just you.”

You were completely oblivious to the gaping faces beside you as you stared at the one in front of you. His mouth hung open just enough for his breath to escape and hang in front of him like a small cloud and his chest heaved as it would as if he had just ran a lap around the field.

“Screw everybody else.” You threw your arms around his neck and pulled yourself back to his waiting lips and for the second time that day, the stadium erupted with the cheers and howls of the many witches and wizards.

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bleedingbluekunoichi · 7 years ago

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We Heart Peter ‘18 DA Letter

Dear Writer,

I am so excited and grateful you are writing something for me. I am certain I will love to pieces whatever your mind comes up with. I love reading fics where you can tell the author has a real passion for something, vs 'Hey here is this prompt write it' sort of deal. My intentions are to give you a good amount of free reign when it comes to being inspired by something, so lots of options ^^.

The Pairings

Steter, Steterek, and Derek/Peter are what I would love to have, in any combination (poly is completely welcome)

All three of these guys are my favorite characters in the TW verse. They work so well together in so many different situations. I love seeing them either realizing their feelings and then getting together, or just finally getting up the balls to do something about it. The various bonds from the way they think, the way they are somehow always there for each other is amazing.

But the focus of this is Peter, one of the best characters I have come across and fully responsible for converting me over to loving Daddy!kink. When Peter takes care of what is most important to him, no matter the means it just gets me every time. He can be caring and loving one minute and absolutely manipulative and ruthless the next. I love that how despite being abandoned by the rest of his pack he never left Derek alone. I love how he always has stashes and hoards of resources and supernatural knowledge that would put cryptic Deaton to shame.

Plot Things

I don't mind human AU, but honestly, I love Peter as the amazing werewolf he was born(though him being an alpha or even a true alpha is always something I will never turn away from. Zombie AU and anything to do with soulmates(be it identifying marks, shared senses, injuries, etc) they are a huge kryptonite of mine. A/b/o is something that is a great read(just when it comes to omegas having them treasured is always better than beaten... but sometimes the latter makes a better story). When it comes to his family Peter I feel has gotten the short end of the stick majority if not 99% of the time, so Peter deserves good things is always a plus... and if it takes murder husbands to do it then so be it. I love dark fics, the only things I have to have is if you give me a crap ton of angst and major whump (major character death included) please a happy ending in some way. Anything to do with Stiles is always a huge plus.

Tropes plot devices I enjoy:

Pining/oblivious

various mythologies

spark/Magical Stiles

Alpha Peter

Co-Alphas Peter and Derek

Scott is a bad friend

Peter and X leaving beacon hills and finding each other somewhere else

Mates

Fake relationship

Slow Build

Bamf- peter, stiles, Derek

Werewolf culture

accidental baby acquisition

Natural pregnancy and birth (mpreg is under this too ^^, just please no hospital births or c-sections for convenience.)

Kinky side of things (as smut is ALWAYS a good thing)

If you include smut, I ask if you would please have it be involved in the plot or character development, not just screwing around because they can. Porn without plot is fun, but Porn with a plot is a grand old time... hell if there is gratuitous amounts of smut go for it, as long as there is a plot to it.

Consent – dubcon is always fun like sex pollen and fuck or die scenarios also if going into any form of BDSM or dom/sub idk but the checking in making sure everything is still ok, especially when it comes to Derek.

Praise – self-explanatory I think.

Poly – healthy poly relationships are always a great read, even if they have issues to work out (no one is perfect), group sex for reasons, explaining to parents the ply relationships

Dirty talk – but not any of the humiliation degradation or shaming... there is a difference in tones and manner some words are used like cum slut can be good if done right. As can bitch (namely bitch in heat sort of deal) but the 'dirty talk like it came out of porn is a no go. I mean hell if you set the scene up where x character is told that they want it so much like a bitch in heat that's great, even if its used as a term of endearment... basically if its a put down in a negative way then try if it all possible to switch it around a bit.

Sex positive

Knots

shifting during sex (beta, alpha)

Mpreg

Mlac

lactation kink

BDSM – ropes(shibari) is very fun, as is other bondage, fell free to go anywhere as long as its not considered abusive.

Dom/sub – not abusive and we are golden

No Thanks:

Things I do not really like: pain without pleasure, humiliation, watersports, scat, unnecessary c-sections.

Forgive my rambling at times. If you have any questions about anything feel free to ask. I wish you the best with your writing and thank you for signing up.

Much Love,

BBK

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