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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years ago

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starlight (Lucifer/MC)

For @dazatsu for the Obey Me Secret Santa for 2020. I hope this fic of mine makes you smile at least once! :) I loved thinking up of the prompt for your secret santa, so I hope I did your aesthetics and preferences justice! I tried including both of your faves and ended up focusing on one.

Feel free to message me on discord or on my personal @epiphyllous.

Happy Holidays! :)

Summary: It’s been a few days or so since you’ve returned to the human world to attend your university classes. Missing you, Lucifer decides to give you a visit, (with Belphie tagging along) hopefully without being seen, just to check up on you.

Or so he planned. He never could have anticipated how much he actually misses you.

notes: gn!reader, College Student MC, sfw, (sorta) established relationship, pining

Be patient, Lucifer tells himself. One semester: four months, or even better, fifteen weeks. Lucifer would never admit it to anyone else, but he counts the days until you come back to the House of Lamentations, occupy the room that is now too quiet for comfort, and sit at your seat at the dining table and laugh with all of them again.

The first week after you leave to attend university classes, he keeps his brothers in line, making sure they keep on going to RAD classes instead of spending the entire day moping over your absence. Not that he didn’t miss you, because, of course, he did. At the best of times you were like a buoy in a stormy night, and at others, you were a comforting presence at his side who taught him how to laugh again.

But you had promised to come back, and he had promised that they would be waiting for you when you did. Lucifer prides himself on control, so in control he would be.

Or so he would have been if he had not already planned to ‘check-up’ on you in the human world at the end of this week.

(He tries not to think about the fact he has caved in only one week after you’ve been gone, but demons are weak to temptation-- so he forgives himself, just this once, because it is to see you.)

To anyone else, especially his brothers, he’s visiting the human realm to take care of human exchange student documents. Only Diavolo, and Barbatos by association, knows why he’s actually settling the last piece of his paperwork prior to his trip. Diavolo had only given him a wide smile, but he is embarrassed to be so evidently transparent to his old friend. (It would have been even more embarrassing had Barbatos had been there to receive the news, so Lucifer is thankful for that at least.)

With everything in order, his brothers threatened to do well in class while he was gone and too distracted to notice the real reason he’s so eagerly planning a trip away, Lucifer heads out the door.

Belphie is waiting for him in the doorway.

“You aren’t planning to go by yourself, are you?” Belphie says with a leisurely smile, and Lucifer can only sigh.

“Oh, sorry-- er, Pro-Professor…”

Lucifer watches as another student meekly ducks past him, skittering away with their head ducked low until they merge with their group. He can hear snippets of what they’re saying, and he isn’t sure what to think when all the comments have been on his attire. It didn’t dawn on him when he first walked onto campus grounds with Belphie in tow, but with the glances he’s been given and the attention he’s been garnering despite his attempts to stay hidden, he realizes how strange his outfit must be when compared to the rest of the population.

He sighs and crosses his leg on the wooden bench they’ve perched themselves on, turning towards his youngest brother when he hears him laugh. Belphie gives him a sleepy smile that does not hide any of the amusement behind it. “Those people think you’re a cosplayer,” he says to Lucifer, pointing to a group of students who were looking at the two of them. “From an anime about vampires or butlers.”

Lucifer looks down at his fur-collared coat on his shoulders and gives it a slight tug. “Ah, I suppose the coat is a little bit ill-suited for the weather, isn’t it?” He huffs when Belphie gives him a deadpan. “I jest, Belphie,” he says, crossing his arms (regally, in a way that only convinces everyone who watched him that he was playing in-character). “I understand clearly now that my ‘casual’ attire is not the norm for this university campus.”

“Or any other campus,” Belphie mutters. “People have been saying your vest makes you look like you part-time at Olive Garden… wherever that is. You should have just dressed like me today.” And Lucifer cannot argue with that sentiment, considering how well Belphie fits in with the university atmosphere and environment with his long jacket worn over his tee. If he ignores the comments on his own attire, Lucifer can hear the whispers of awe and even admiration at the cow-printed pillow that Belphie has brought along with him today to ‘comfortably sleep in class while he waits for you,’ or so he has explained to Lucifer.

“I’m not sure how I would pull off the university-look you so excel at,” Lucifer says exasperatedly. “I doubt it would…” Just as quickly as he cut his sentence off, Lucifer jumps to his feet, quickly dragging Belphie by the pillow (much to his complaints) to hide behind a particularly bushy shrub.

“Ugh, let go of my pillow, you’re going to stretch it out--”

“Shh, be quiet,” Lucifer snaps, glaring at his brother who only stubbornly looks back. “I’d rather not be caught sneaking around on campus when we’re not supposed to.”

“Wait, what? Aren’t we here to see them?” Belphie retorts, “Isn’t this the whole point? Wait, unless…”

Lucifer can feel the tell-tale heat on his ears as warnings of an oncoming blush and wills it away with a scowl, daring Belphie to finish his thought. As expected from his free-spirited and equally willful brother, Belphie does anyway.

“You didn’t tell MC you were coming, did you?” Belphie says, and as much as Lucifer is happy to have such a cunning brother, he wished Belphie were otherwise at the moment. “That’s why we’ve been hiding around trying to find them rather than just having them ditch class--”

“I would not make them ditch class--”

“--and spend time with us.” Belphie pauses. “Why didn’t you just tell them we were coming?”

In the corner of his eyes, Lucifer sees you walk down the crackling pavement-- backpack on your shoulders, skin a healthy glow (thank Diavolo), and eyes as bright as ever-- and Lucifer’s thoughts trail to a stop. His gaze follows you as you walk past them without notice, and he thinks to himself that a human like you truly does belong to a place with the sun, because you are as radiant as starlight.

Lucifer looks back towards Belphie who had fallen silent, only to fight back another bout of embarrassment as Belphie stares back at him with a knowing, mischievous gleam.

“Let’s grab a seat in their class,” Belphie says, standing up easily and walking the same direction Lucifer watched you disappear into. Just when Lucifer thinks the gleam is only from the sun, Belphie continues, his voice dripping with saccharine, “Just so you can watch them a little more closely.”

Lucifer sighs, less inclined to argue when they have little time to catch up with you. (Though even if he did have time, there was not much to say when nothing Belphie said was wrong.)

Looking back at the conversation now, Lucifer wishes he did argue, just a little, because maybe then he would feel better upon watching in horror as Belphie sleeps beside him in class only five minutes into lecture.

After following you, they had picked inconspicuous seats in the back row of the lecture hall (with these tiny, little tables-- Lucifer doesn’t understand how anyone could write on these), hoping to remain unseen by you who sat a few rows up in the middle. Based off the scattered, quiet laughter that surrounds them, Lucifer thinks that their choice in seats was a moot point now.

“Belphie. Belphie,” Lucifer hisses, nudging his brother’s leg in hopes of stirring him awake. “Lecture just began. How are you asleep already?”

“S’fine,” Belphie mumbles, waving a flippant hand. “We don’t even take this class.”

From behind them, Lucifer hears someone quietly whisper ‘legend’, and it takes everything in him to not bury his face into his hands and make themselves even more noticeable. He sighs, but regardless, he looks forward, spotting the back of your head almost immediately in a sea of students. Ever so often, he would see your head dip down to look at your laptop and up again to read the slides that were presented. The movement is repetitive, most likely reminiscent to how you would also be in a Devildom RAD class, but for some reason, watching you focus and intently study in your university classes makes it very evident how often he finds himself proud of you.

And he almost feels guilty for following you on campus. After all, he did make a promise to be there when you came back after waiting patiently for you, and it was not as if you left happily. If anything, you had hoped to stay-- but your future awaits, and so you promised to work hard to get back to them as soon as possible. Perhaps he should keep to the promise you had made to each other-- oh.

Lucifer watches as you lean down to rummage through your backpack, and he almost feels his heart stop when he sees your D.D.D in your hand. Your fingers scroll through something: Past texts? Your gallery, perhaps? Regardless of what the reason is, Lucifer feels something warm spread within his chest as he thinks that maybe you had missed them (hopefully even him?) just as much as they missed you.

What he does not expect is to have his phone vibrate with a text from you.

>> Are you busy right now?

Lucifer is thankful that Belphie is asleep because he does not see the way Lucifer fumbles to get his D.D.D out and text with his heart at his throat.

<< Not at the moment.

He pauses.

<< Is something the matter?

The response is quick.

>> No, nothing is wrong!

>> I’m just in class right now and ngl it’s kind of boring.

Lucifer buries his chuckle into his fist.

<< And here I thought you had an emergency.

>> :crying emoji: This IS an emergency. I’m DYING

>> of BOREDOM

>> Save me, Lucifer!!

<< I will not be an accomplice to distracting you during class.

He’s already enabling you by responding, so it’s not exactly the truth, he admits. But he does like the way you tilt your head as you are wont to do when you find something amusing.

>> Darn, okay I tried

>> I just

Lucifer watches as the text bubbles stay on screen, and he waits for your upcoming message when the people around them stand up, putting their laptops into their backpacks at the end of the lecture.

>> I miss you guys

He looks up to see you standing up, D.D.D. in hand, head down and fingers still over the screen. After a moment, you type something else and lock the phone, putting it into your backpack before heading down the aisle to leave the class.

Your last few messages pop up.

>> Class just ended so I’ll have to go study at the library but

>> I just wanted to say I really miss you

>> Hope you’re doing well

>> Love you.

“What are you waiting for?”

Lucifer turns toward Belphie, whose violet eyes are still bleary from sleep but whose words are as clear and succinct as ever. He yawns before continuing, “Go after them. Let me know when their classes are done so we can actually do something together.”

At this, Lucifer feels his gaze soften. “Yes, I’ll let you know,” he says, standing up and walking down the path to the door. “And, ah, Belphie…” He waits until his youngest brother looks up from his pillow before telling him with a small, wry smile, “Be sure not to get locked inside the classroom when all the lectures finish.”

After a few mishaps, Lucifer manages to ask for the directions to the library most commonly used by the student body. The first few times he tried, his language was too formal for anyone to truly believe he was asking for direction. “Who are you cosplaying? Can I take a picture with you?” was thrown at him numerous times. “Am I being pranked right now? Are you a youtuber?” was also asked at him twice-- which was not often, but it was strange that it happened that many times.

Eventually, someone had, after watching him cross his arms indignantly, given him the instructions to the library. It was only when he was walking up the steps to the building that he thought that everything would have gone much faster if he had only demanded directions and hypnotized a random student into telling him. But he imagined that if you ever found out, you would not be pleased, and that-- if anything-- was the one reason why he resisted the urge to.

Lucifer walks into the air-conditioned building and searches for you. It does not take him long until he sees you, sitting at one of the desks in the library, laying your head on your arms, fast asleep.

It is around three in the afternoon, the sunshine filters through the ceiling windows and scatters across your desk, showering you in a flurry of light, and Lucifer thinks he was a fool to ever think he could bear to not see you for a moment longer.

The seat beside you is open, so he sits there, watching the moving sunlight dance across the hand you placed near your face. Your chest rises and falls evenly, and for a moment, you clench your hands but do not wake, seeming to dream of holding onto something instead. It takes all the self-control Lucifer could muster to not take your hand in his. Instead, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, careful not to let it fall off, and watches as students filter in and out of the library in the hustle of academic life.

Lucifer isn’t sure how long he waited, surrounded by tall shelves of books and aisles of encyclopedias, but you start to stir, waking up and wincing at the sun in your eyes in a way that has him smiling in amusement. You first grab onto the jacket that had started to fall off your shoulders, and upon realizing that it did not belong to you, you look up to see Lucifer, smiling fondly.

“Lucifer?”

Lucifer can feel the side of his eyes crinkle at the sound of your voice still raspy from sleep. He sweeps away the lint on your shoulder as you sleepily gather up his jacket into your lap. “Whatever happened to ‘studying in the library’ as you told me?” He says teasingly, smile widening when you fluster and laugh nervously.

“I-- you know… I was taking a break and,” you start to say, pausing only to look at him accusingly, much to his amusement. “Wait, forget about that! How are you here? Why are you here?”

“I’m the vice-president of the student council-- I’m able to be wherever I please,” he tells you, and you huff at how smug he sounds. “As for why I’m here, it’s to check up on one of our human exchange students, of course… is what I would say.” Lucifer leans forward and gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, unable to push the affection that bubbles forth as he sees your hand press over his. “But I also just wanted to see you.”

Lucifer hears a cough from behind him and feels heat rushing into his cheeks at the (quite frankly) polite reminder that he was in a public space. He retracts his gloved hand and clears his throat, hoping that the moment is enough to clear away the pink that has undoubtedly found its way onto his face. He expects you to tease him, as you often do whenever you have the chance. When it does not come, he glances back to you, only to feel his heart squeeze at the way you look at him: your eyes softened, lips upturned gently, and gaze adoring in a way that made it seem like you believed he had hung the stars.

(If there were any more ‘coughing’ to remind Lucifer that they were, in fact, still in the library instead of their own world, neither of you take notice.)

“I missed you too,” you say, summing up his feelings in the simplest way that only you could do. You take his hand into yours and gently sway it back and forth. “Thank you for coming to visit me.”

It had been a good idea, after all, he thinks, to indulge himself for once and come see you if it meant he could hold your hand like this again. “Belphie was hoping you would give us a tour of your university,” Lucifer says softly, sweeping his thumb over your hand. “If you were done with classes.”

He feels you squeeze his hand in response to his affection, and his heart soars even as he listens to you speak. “Belphie is here?” You ask, surprised. When he nods in confirmation, you laugh. “Did he catch you when you were leaving or something? Threaten to tell your brothers if you didn’t take him along?”

Lucifer doesn’t answer you, preferring to huff instead, though he can’t deny that he is pleased that you can know his brothers’ behavior well enough to hit it right on the money. “He opted to sleep in the last lecture hall you were in rather than go on the wild goose chase I had to find this library. Is nobody at your university unable to fathom that someone would wear something slightly more formal to class?”

“Yup,” you reply easily, grinning at him. “But it’s okay, I like your outfit. It’s very you.” You pause. “Also, we can always go shopping later, though, so people can stop staring at you. And also to buy some souvenirs for your brothers!” Your eyes brighten as you think, and his heart melts at the fact that his brothers are in your thoughts. (For as much as he wants to have your attention, he finds that the love you can give to his brothers is as equally enjoyable to witness.)

You hum thoughtfully, “I think Beel might appreciate some food from this new restaurant that opened up last week. Maybe Levi would like something from the cute Japanese store down the road? Oh, and face masks for Asmo!”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy with anything you purchase for them,” Lucifer says, making you look up at him with a smile. And he wants to reach out to cup your face again.

Ring ring!

The both of you glance at your phone when it plays a tune, and as quickly as the alarm goes off, your hand is there to turn it off. Lucifer looks at you questioningly before you sigh. “I have class in about ten minutes,” you say apologetically.

“Is that so?” Lucifer says, standing up from his seat. “Then I shall accompany you.” He extends a hand in askance for his jacket, only to give a huff of laughter when you only stare at him incredulously. “Is it that much of a surprise that I would like to escort you to your classes? Unless, of course, you would prefer me not to--”

“No!” You duck your head down, looking around quickly, much to Lucifer’s amusement, before lowering your volume. ‘No, I mean,” you fluster, “I’d like that. Thank you.”

Oh, how Lucifer wants to press a kiss to your forehead, but to save you (and himself, though he thinks he no longer has anything to lose) the embarrassment, he settles for easy laughter as he wraps his jacket around himself. You follow after him, pushing in your chair and lugging up your backpack, your laptop securely inside.

“Shall we go then?” he asks, holding out an elbow for you to hook your arms with his. When you slide yourself close to him and walk down the steps outside the library, he realizes that this is the many things he has missed since you've been gone. Your hand is a comfortable presence on his arm and your footsteps are aligned with his as you walk in tandem to your next class. He briefly thinks about his brothers, most particularly how Mammon would bluster about their proximity, or how one of the romance novels Satan would have described this very situation he was in: walking alongside someone dear to him on a campus that does not seem as big when you are together.

Your hand squeezes his arm gently before you guide him through hallways and pathways. When a crowd of students bustles past them at the end of lecture, he feels you inch closer to him.

“It’s a lecture hall, not a discussion class,” you start to tell him, much to his confusion. You laugh. “They won’t notice you’re not part of the class, so you can sit next to me.” You lower your hand and take his hand in yours.

Lucifer squeezes your hand comfortingly as the last of the previous class files out. “Try not to be too distracted by my presence,” he comments and cannot help the upturn of his lips when you shoot him a withering look he does not have to see to know it has no heat behind it.

Among other glances and subtle affection that you provide him the rest of the day convinces him fully that there has never been a better decision than to visit you. When the two of you finally meet up with Belphie, who had been asleep on a nearby bench, the night is spent out following you as you guide them around campus and at the nearest hub of entertainment.

In the end, you do collect enough gifts for all his brothers, even sneaking a small present into his hands with a sly smile on your face.

And when he returns to the Devildom after a long, long farewell where no one wanted to leave, he provides his brothers with their souvenirs (after they stopped complaining to him about going off to the human world with only Belphie). He tugs off the coat that now lingers with your scent and places the gift you had purchased him onto his desk-- a little trinket that he can now look at and remind himself of you, with eyes of starlight and laughter as warm as the sun.

He thinks of the last message that you sent him and sends you a response.

<< I love you too.

<< Until next time.

#happy holidays!! i hope you like the fic!#ObeyMeSecretSanta2020 #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #lucifer/mc #fasdfksafdhaskjfd surprise i am alive

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Blood Dahlia

TITLE: Blood Dahlia CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: Flowerhoe ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you're an assassin in an omegaverse that's been hired to kill Loki but he catches you. Instead of killing or imprisoning you, he binds you to Asgard as one of his personal guards under both princely and alpha authority, hoping to cure his boredom by watching you slowly lose your mind being stuck in his presence. RATING: Overall: M Current Chapter: PG

NOTES/WARNINGS: This is my first fanfic in a loooooong time so bear with me. I’m new to submissions but hopefully all goes well and you guys can enjoy my stories.

I occasionally live-write and you can access the google doc here. You can check it whenever for updates or you can pm me and I can add you to a ping list for when I decide to live-write. Emjoy!

~~~~

The backwater bars of the galaxy always smelled the same, the scent of piss and cheap ale rising up from the often basement level pubs like smog. Dahlia had come to enjoy these places, seeing as they existed in every realm, they were as if home followed her. Now, whether backwater pubs feeling like home was a good thing was up for speculation, but was a concern she generally ignored.

Other than ordinarily enjoying not being sober, places like this were prime spots for hunting contracts, especially on Vanaheim’s less than lucrative market which drew in smaller but far more simple cases; the most exciting thing you’d usually find in Vanaheim as an assassin were back-alley squabbles and the occasional intimidation job. While small talent gigs generally paid less, there were plenty to be found to make up for the lack of effort they required, as well as the pay difference.

“Hey Daffodil,” a scruffy-looking Vanir manning the rugged bar chuffed, waiting to continue until she met his eyes.

“It’s Dahlia.”

“Yeah yeah, Dandelion. Look, you’ve been here for hours and ordered one drink. If you keep holding up the bar I’m gonna have to ask you to switch to a table or somethin.” Dahlia just waved the man off, flicking a gold piece across the counter in annoyance. The bartender grumbled, slapping a meaty hand over the coin and dragging it away. “Better keep ordering,” the Vanir groused as he sloshed another tankard her way, nearly hitting her in the chest with the cheap ale within. Dahlia shot him a glare, catching it right before it could ruin her currently dry clothes. “I’m waiting for contracts. I’ll order when I order.”

“Contracts, aye?” the bartender huffed, dropping a few glasses into a tub of gray day-old dishwater. “There’s a Sakaarian that dropped off a datalink looking for someone to take up a job. People’ve been rejecting it for days. I haven’t seen it but it seems like it pays well. I’ll forward the contract your way,” he hummed, nodding towards the datapad on her arm before tapping something behind the counter.

Dahlia looked down at her arm as the device beeped, tapping the notification that popped up on its surface. Of the many contracts Dahlia had been offered, this one was by far the only one with that many zeros in the pay bar. Unsurprisingly, the zeros had been the first thing she’d seen, instilling a giddy bit of excitement in her; with this kind of money, she’d be able to retire at the ripe old age of nine hundred and thirty-four. Well, retire for the next thousand years or so. Sadly, the next thing she saw was the name a few lines above that wonderfully long series of numbers, Loki Laufeyson. By instinct Dahlia almost hit reject immediately, stopping herself halfway through the motion; those were a lot of zeros.

“Who’d you say offered the contract?” the Asgardian asked, tearing her eyes from the name long enough to meet the Vanir’s gaze. He just shrugged, beginning to wipe the counter with a dirty rag.

“Some Sakaarian. Didn’t leave a name. That serious huh? The rest of em just rejected and left in a tizzy. Gave a generous tip.“ Dahlia could hear the tone in his voice with the last part, feeling the directed intent he put behind it. He continued when she didn’t react. “I don’t read the contracts on principle, but whatever’s on there gotta be pretty serious to spook off so many of you folks.”

The Asgardian just hummed, downing her drink quickly and standing from her stool. And turning to leave. “Thanks. Though I’d start reading your contracts if I were you. You’d get tried for treason if anyone with any common sense found out this kind of contract cycled through here.” The bartender just shrugged and went back to wiping the counter, apparently having heard similar before.

Stepping out of the dank pub Dahlia made her way up the steps and over to where she’d hitched her horse, untying the large stallion and swinging into the saddle. Once the pair had left the village proper Dahlia zoned out into her datapad, eyes locked between the zeros and the name. In truth, she was tempted to ask Átthagi what he thought of the job. She knew the horse had no answers, but he’d been along for so many of her money-guided escapades she was sure if he could talk he’d have something to say about the matter.

On one hand, she was Asgardian, and a well-trained one at that; she’d have easier access to the palace than most. On another, she was Asgardian; if she did this, she’d never be able to go back home again. Of course, that point was moot given just how many zeros were in that pay bar. She wouldn’t really need to come back to Asgard with that much money in her pockets. That didn’t really cover just how far Asgard would extend its power to find her should she kill their prince. Then again, this was Loki.

Dahlia hadn’t been home in years, favoring the other realms to fill her time and her pockets as compared to the dreariness of Asgard. For some of the other races, Asgard seemed like a paradise of plenty, filled with bountiful feasts and general prosperity. While all of this was reality, Asgard never seemed to change much. Yes, there was an occasional royal scandal or other realmly rabble-rousers, the planet itself was stuck in endless repetition and had been since the fall of Hela. While the peace was nice, Asgard was no home for someone like her.

She sighed, looking at the datapad again. Fuck it, she thought, pushing the green-hued accept button. She might as well go out with a bang with billions of units on the line than die in some back-alley dump with only a couple hundred to her name.

#Loki #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #blood dahlia #chapter 1 #Flowerhoe

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prince-liest · 3 years ago

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fic writer interview!

How many works do you have on AO3?

37, though another one is going up tomorrow because haunted AO3 hours started and I don't want to post it in the middle of the night on a Monday. Also like 4 or 5 more in reserve from zines/bangs. I'm kinda impressed with myself, but also, side-eyeing y'all with fic counts in the 100s. Phenomenal. Effervescent.

What's your total AO3 word count?

257,246

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

In chronological order of first fic on AO3: Percy Jackson, Soul Eater, Steven Universe, My Hero Academia, Dragalia Lost, Avater: the Last Airbender, the Witcher, and Genshin Impact! That's 7 fandoms and I'm not counting Homestuck (I only wrote OC stuff) or D&D (same thing).

I also have works from Axis Powers: Hetalia and Katekyo Hitman Reborn! on Fanfiction dot hell that none of you will ever see. I definitely posted and deleted a Twilight OC fic once.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Dish Duty | ATLA

The Sword of Damocles is Swinging | MHA

The Ancient Art of Jerkbending | ATLA

Dishabille | MHA

Summer Break | MHA

ATLA is a powerful fandom so I'm not surprised both my ATLA fics made top five. Dishabille's popularity continues to pleasantly surprise me. Damocles is only surprising because it isn't first. I am so proud of Summer Break and that entire Shinsou series, I'm glad it made top 5 and is gonna break 1k kudos soon. <3

(Now get Dog-Tired up there, I fucking love that story. q^q)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

To quote Mido: I do, but not consistently. Q^Q I read them all and I really want to reply to them all, but I very frequently simply to not have the energy. I have it posted on my AO3 profile, though, so hopefully it doesn't hurt anyone's feelings... I have recently been trying to at least answer all new incoming comments and not let the backlog increase! (That said, the backlog is over 100.)

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to do angsty endings (I am a hard lover of angst with a happy ending), but I've written some questionable and bittersweet ones. I think arguably the best contendor for angstiest ending is probably Kindred Spirit. I wrote it to low key revenge myself on @thegc4life for insisting that Shinsou gets a hug (he does! technically!) and it certainly ended ominously.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

As much as I love "Edward Elric gets transported into X universe and proceeds to kick everyone's ass" crossovers, I don't relaly write any. I do enjoy full transplant AUs, though, and the one I recently posted on AO3 is an MHA-at-Hogwards AU called the Birds and the Mares that I wrote for the HP/BNHA Zine!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Deeeeepends on what you mean by 'hate.' :X has gotten two comments (one much politer than the other, haha) complaining about my use of the r-slur in Shinsou's internal narrative in one of the chapters, but one person backpedaled and said they understood the purpose of it while the other (more vehement) one never replied to my explanation. That's all, though!

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yeah. It's never going on my main AO3 (and the one time it did, I orphaned the fic). I have a side account I might post it on once I get over the fact that people who know me also know about the account. It's all 100% PWP of stuff I personally am into, and I have a very specific set of things I'm into, so... idk, feels a little personal! ^^"

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, but I've had people adopt general concepts I used (fabulous!) and steal my RP OCs back in ye olde fantroll days (not at all fabulous! incredibly hurtful, actually). I am vehemently opposed to plagiarism, even of concepts. It feels so gross.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone in the comments mentioned that they are translating Bloodied Hound into Russian and I am SO EXCITED. I desperately want to read it. Of all the languages, it happened to be the only other one I'm decently literate in! I also want to show my grandparents. I really hope the person follows through. <3

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I've roleplayed a lot, but I can't see myself ever co-writing a fic. I'm not even sure how it works, to be honest!

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Urgh. Pass. I can't pick one. Perils of a multishipper.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I was going to proudly say "I never post things I don't plan on finishing!" but in reality that is a lie, because Falling Down A Rabbit Hole exists from back in 2015 and is in fact the reason I made that rule for myself. ^^" Honestly, what's there still holds up, but the reality is that I didn't actually come up with a plot, so there's nowhere for it to go.

What are your writing strengths?

Interesting/relatable/funny dialogue, and also writing feelings in a 'show, don't tell!' kind of way that leaves strong impressions with people!

What are your writing weaknesses?

Plotting out long stories with good pacing! People thought Damocles had a plot, apparently? Joke's on you, it was a series of "I wanna see this happen" scenarios that I made Hawks suffer through and subsequently strung together like a haphazard multicolor plastic bead necklace that I told everyone was actually pearls.

That's why all my stories after Damocles are either short or split into a series. Shinsou's Bad Days is my attempt at proper pacing, hence it being so episodic.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I'll do it if I know the language well enough (so, Russian and ASL, I don't trust my casual Japanese), but I'm generally a stickler for making things come off naturally, so I otherwise will instead try to find the closest tonal equivalent in English (such as having Childe call Zhongli "professor" instead of "xiansheng"). Sometimes there just isn't one (like Kazuha calling Beidou 'big sis' but in a way that doesn't sound kiddish and overly casual for him), though, which sucks. :( Language is cool!

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

T. Twilight. QUQ I wish that fic still existed, it was like a single chapter of two multicolored hair OCs befriending Alice Cullen and being cool. I deleted it but I SHOULDN'T HAVE. IT WAS HISTORY.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

This totally changes with each new slew of fics I post. I think currently it is Dog-Tired because despite being unsatisfied with the title, I think the story itself turned out amazing. I also am extremely happy with the entire Shinsou's Bad Days series (including upcoming installments).

Tagged by: @touchmycoat (THANK U LOVE <3)

Tagging: anyone who's read this far, LOL. seriously, though, I have a lot of writer moots and I don't have the time to tag them all but PLEASE do this and tag me so I can read it if you are so inclined! <3

#personal #tag memes #my writing

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sketchguk · 5 years ago

Photo

Hi, friends! I can honestly say that I’ve been on Tumblr for about 9 years, but only 7 of those months have been spent on this account. Being a part of this fandom means so much to me, and as cheesy as it may be, I’ve never felt so much love from a community like this. I think that I should spread a little love back to everyone through this festive follow forever post in the spirit of the holidays (there’s also a message for my beautiful followers at the very end, so bear with me). Although I may have not spoken to you all personally, you’ve made my experience here amazing!! Whether it’s seeing you on my dash or in my inbox, you’ve all made me smile one way or another!! I’ll admit right now that I’ve sent so many anonymous messages to you all because I’m really shy, haha. Not to mention, I follow so many amazing content creators, gif/gfx makers and fic writers alike, and I want to make you smile as much as you have made me!! Y’all are so lovely, and I’m not totally sure why anyone chooses to interact with me or to follow me nonetheless. Maybe you’ve read a fic of mine, or none at all, I appreciate you all the same 💕 I know some of you may be in and out of hiatus, but just know that I’m thinking of you!! And if this is the first time you’re coming across my blog, I guess this is a good time to introduce myself. Hi, I’m Teresa. It’s nice to meet you 😄

If you’re reading this, hopefully we can chat a little more. I would love to get to know such lovely people 😊 To my beautiful mutuals, I love you all sooo much 💓 I’m not the best at expressing my feelings, but I hope that this is a start! @190713 @95swifi ✩ @alwayschoosechocolate ✩ @aureumjeon ✩ @beebopboobop ✩ @boobearcupcake ✩ @btsaremyfaves ✩ @btssmutheaven ✩ @bwiq ✩ @engeljimin ✩ @ddaengwrld ✩ @emiyooa ✩ @geniuslab 💌 ✩ @gimmeyoon (@gimmeyoon-main) ✩ @girlwiththespecs ✩ @gukgalore ✩ @gukkheaven ✩ @guktwt ✩ @hobimygs ✩ @hoseoknysus ✩ @idiotscalledfriends ✩ @joonary ✩ @kitsutaes (@geniusguk) 💌 ✩ @littlemisskookie ✩ @llsanjoonie ✩ @lovehrs ✩ @magicshop-myg ✩ @map-of-yoongi ✩ @maptoyoongi ✩ @mercurygguk ✩ @minflix ✩ @minlexia ✩ @minyoongsueit ✩ @mygsii ✩ @outroguks ✩ @pjmskosmos ✩ @sdmnluv ✩ @softaellie ✩ @spookitokki (@spookitokkimain) ✩ @starrytete 💌 ✩ @syugasshi ✩ @taesseok 💌 ✩ @tokyoscript ✩ @ve1vetyoongi ✩ @vminary 💌 ✩ @vtbts ✩ @vxngguk ✩ @wthkook ✩ @yourdelights 💌 If your url is bolded, scroll down for some words of affirmation. ✨ If you have an emoji (💌) next to your url, scroll down for a special message. 😇🌟 And here’s a shoutout to some of my favorite fic writers, because you all allow me escape to my happy place !! Thank you so much for contributing to the writing community !! This online space is pretty hectic, especially as of late, but you all make it worth it. Even if you’re taking a break from writing, I am here cheering you on !! And to let you know that I’ll support you no matter what. I hope you never lose your spark for passion and creativity !! Sometimes life gets the best of us, and other times, things are not in our control, but I want to send my love and appreciation to you nevertheless. Your fics have inspired me to try my own hand at writing, and I’m forever grateful ✨ You’re spectacular, every single one of you, so never forget that! Kpop isn’t that serious, but I’ll probably think about your fics until the day I die. @bymoonchild ✩ @floralseokjin ✩ @foreverpark ✩ @geniuslab ✩ @gimmeyoon ✩ @gukgalore ✩ @gukkheaven ✩ @guktwt ✩ @jamaisjoons ✩ @gukyi ✩ @kookswife ✩ @kinktae ✩ @kpopfanfictrash ✩ @minflix ✩ @mygsii ✩ @personasintro ✩ @prolixitae ✩ @readyplayerhobi ✩ @spookitokki ✩ @ubemango ✩ @ve1vetyoongi (yee, you might see some repeats because my moots are super talented) 💖 A love letter from me to you: 💌 @geniuslab Megan !! This might sound soo sappy, but you’re the very first person I followed when I made this blog !! It’s because I’ve read all of your fics (perhaps more than once on my old account), and you inspired me to start writing as well. You have no idea how happy I was when you said you would get back into writing fics. I guess I’ll expose myself right now, but I’ve sent a few anons to you on the matter haha (yes, I am a 7 Chances enthusiast, one of many). You’re so talented, and I admire you so much 🥺 A gif maker and fic writer ?? Nothing you can’t do !! Among other things, you’re such a kind-hearted individual. I’ve read plenty of your text posts, and there’s just something so warm about the way you carry yourself. You deserve the world, and I wish for nothing but the best for you !! I hope you have an amazing new year and that you have space for peace, love, and healing. Please know that I support you through and through, and that you are well-loved ❣️

💌 @kitsutaes (@geniusguk) Yas !! I know we just started chatting, but I love getting to know you !! It’s hard for me to reach out to people because I’m shy, but I’m really grateful that you hit me up 😊 It’s been so nice getting to know you, and I hope we can get closer 💕 I’m already learning so much about you because our chats just flow from one topic to another !! You said you wanna visit new york one day, so I’ll hold you to that 😉 I’ll be your tour guide, and the only exchange I’ll ever need is your friendship !! Some dried mangoes would be nice too 😚 haha jk … unless 😳 I hope you have an amazing year filled with lots and lots of love. May you receive everything you’re wishing for !!

💌 @starrytete Mirelle !! I’m still getting used to your new url LOL. But how could I ever forget you?? You are quite literally the human embodiment of an angel. You’re always spreading positivity, and I adore you with all my heart. I wish that I could be as radiant as you !! All the emojis that I’m using in this post?? An homage to you 🌼☀️ I don’t think I can ever look at emojis the same way thanks to you haha. Sending you lots of love!! I hope we can speak more in the future!! May the new year bring you happiness and good fortune!! Please take care of yourself, ok?! Message me whenever because my inbox is always open 🥰

💌 @taesseok Mia !! I just love seeing you on my dash. I’ll give you a quick run down: Teresa: :[ Mia: *posts* Teresa: :] It’s like the universe knows. You’re a light in this world, and I hope you never lose your spark !! May you smile as often as I do (all thanks to you) 💗 I wish for nothing but your happiness since you deserve it and more. In fact, it’s the world that doesn’t deserve you and your sparkle !! I hope this year was rewarding for you, but I already know that 2020 will be better and better. I’ll be sending you lots of positive energy for the new year hehe 💞 Hopefully we can talk more soon !! I’d love to be friends !!

💌 @vminary Kiara !! I’m so happy that you reached out to me all those months ago because you’ve become one of my closest online friends !! I can’t tell you how much you mean to me because the limit does not exist. It’s so easy to talk to you, and sometimes our conversations are big sis/lil sis -esque (I’ve always wanted a sister lol 🐣). I feel as if we’ve taught one another so much, especially because of our cultural differences and the tiny age gap that we share. I find myself missing you because of the time zones LOL. In the middle of the day, I’m wondering whether or not you’re sleeping well :’) Why do you have to live across the world?? 😔 I would totally send you a package if I wasn’t broke haha. I’m sending you all my love here though, and I hope that’s enough !! 💛

💌 @yourdelights Destinee !! You are SUCH a sweetheart. The messages that you send me are so kind, and I don’t know what I did to deserve you. Do let me know how you stumbled across my blog because I feel like you’re way too cool for me LOL. Your posts are always so hilarious, and the tags have me dying. Your sense of humor >> !! My love for you is immeasurable, and I hope you know that, ahh. I think it was truly solidified when I found out you’re a fan of day6 and the rose :’) I’m not really a multi-stan, but from that moment on, I was sold. That was the only time my instincts did not let me down 🌹💝 I swear I’m getting introduced to new fandoms because of you haha. And when you went on a lil hiatus, I really missed seeing you on my dash !! I hope that you’ll be with us for a long time though !! I really can’t wait for what’s in store for next year, because no pressure or anything, but I’m sincerely excited for your WIPs hehe. I’m rooting for ya, so make sure you make the new year your b*tch !! Lastly, thank you so much to my followers !! I see y’all in my activity, and I wanna let you know that I love you from the bottom of my heart !! At this point, I’m more of an update blog than a fanfic blog LOL :’) And if you follow me because you’ve stumbled through my fics, I just want to say 🤯 what?! It blows my mind that anyone reads my work, let alone enjoys it. I never would have though that I’d find solace in reading and writing considering I’m a full on STEM nerd. In conjunction with that, I literally started writing fiction 7 months ago to this day. I didn’t even realize that it would lead me to such amazing connections. With so many lovely people, popping in and out of my dashboard, inbox/DMs, and activity page, my heart b u r s t s with love!! Your interactions mean the world to me, even the most minute things like reblogs make my heart flutter. I really do check the reblogs to see if anyone has left a tag. Single words and keyboard smashes mean the world to me too !! Before I was a fic writer, I was just a silent reader. I always admired writers for the worlds they craft, the characters they develop, and the plots they devise, all for it to come together in one cohesive work of literature. Now that I have a vague understanding of what that’s like, I know that it’s nothing short of strenuous. Words are so powerful, and although I’m a really sensitive sap, I’ve read so many things that hit me to the core, and now I’m sure to tell the authors how much I enjoy their fics. If they went through hours (perhaps days/weeks/months) of drafting, writing, editing, and formatting, a quick comment from the reader really doesn’t hurt !! It’s the most rewarding thing a writer could ever ask for. As an amateur author myself, being on the receiving end is the thing that keeps me going !! I promise you, I don’t take any of it for granted. Your words seriously resonate with me, and it’s a huge motivator for me !! I hope that in the new year, I can work on new pieces for you all (as much as I don’t want to make up excuses, juggling life is not easy as a student!!) I always say that I write for myself, and as true as that is, I want to share my stories with you lovely people !! I pour my heart and soul into my work, and the build up of excitement is nothing if it means I can’t share it with someone else. So, old supporters, new supporters, look out for new content in the future. I hope you’re as excited as I am for the new year!! Please take care, y’all, and remember that I love you. My inbox is always open 💌 So let’s be friends 😇

#follow forever #mutual appreciation #this banner is so fugly pls don't stare at it for long LMAO #i spent longer than i should have making this @ 3am #went through way too many drafts #but it's worth it if i get to express my love !!#sincerely sorry if i forgot anyone :(( i'm new to this #i wish i could send you all a love letter !!#i would include love to gif/gfx makers but they're gonna see my banner and clown me LOL #happy new year loves <3 #i was afraid to post this bc i didn't wanna be annoying sksks i'm sorry #mutuals

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xellandria · 5 years ago

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tw: death

My father died sometime last night. My mom woke me up at around 4:20 (blaze it?), after she found him, ran around in a panic for a bit (her words), and called 911. I’d only gone to sleep a couple hours earlier, and neither of us had checked on him until then (he went to bed much earlier than the two of us ever do) so it’s hard to say when it would have happened; we might learn more later, or we might not. I’m not actually sure how much more information we’ll get—or want, really—when whatever examination happens happens, or if there will be an examination/autopsy/whatever. All I know about that kind of thing comes from media, and it’s always convenient for media to have an autopsy.

About nine months ago, he was out on a hike and slid down some scree and hurt his back in some way. Prior to the whole pandemic, he’d been going through all sorts of various treatments and tests to figure out what was wrong and how to fix it, but he’d been in pain for a while. Supposedly it was at least getting a little better with time—mom says he hadn’t taken his pain meds for the last fifteen days or so—but it was definitely there, and he hadn’t been exercising much (if at all) as a result, and gained a lot of weight from the inactivity.

About a week ago, he started coughing and having trouble breathing, and apparently was having issues sleeping as well. He called his doctor about it yesterday, and they had him go get tested for Covid. The results for that won’t be back til Mondayish, but it’s sort of a moot point now, I suppose. Well, partly moot—if he tested positive, mom and I definitely have to be a lot more nitpicky about our own health. We’ve not been going out except as absolutely necessary, but I can’t help thinking that we did go to Walmart and Costco on the 16th and while he was wearing a mask of some sort on that trip, his mask procedure was not the best and that was about a week ago. That’d be a little fast for Covid symptoms I think, but maybe?

I don’t know. I wasn’t hearing much about it (we’ve been on different tracks for the past week so I haven’t seen much of him) but when we were talking to various relatives about an hour ago, mom seemed to imply that it was a lot of trouble breathing—which makes me ask why he didn’t do something about it if it was really that bad, but that’s not something I can or should ask at this point; I can’t ask him and giving her more to agonize about or regret is absolutely pointless (I still beat myself up on bad days for not being sterner about getting Emmett to a vet when I knew he wasn’t fully right, and he died like five or six years ago at this point; I absolutely do not want to inflict that kind of thing on my mother about her husband, for god’s sake, and I didn’t push harder for my own health and safety when I was having heart issues last year until I finally caved and went to the ER; I could have made that trip a lot sooner too instead of fucking around with my doctor half-ignoring me and limply running tests for six months).

Because it’s just me and mom out here on this coast, we’re probably not going to have a funeral. Things would probably be different if we weren’t in the middle of a pandemic (his sisters might want something, I don’t think we thought to ask), but they can’t come out here and we can’t go over there and neither of us really want to deal with it. She knew his preferences (at least for disposal—he wanted to be cremated) so we’ve got that under control, at least.

I’m sure it’s partly shock, but I definitely feel guilty as hell that I’m glad that the pandemic is giving us a good excuse to not have a funeral. Maybe he would have wanted one? I don’t know. I know my own preferences (only if my survivors need it for themselves; I don’t believe in ghosts or anything like that, but the idea of death and corpses and such spooks me something awful and funerals and burials and such are obviously the worst for that) and mom was the one who said no when I asked her if she wanted one (though maybe I should ask again when we’re both less shocky). If the dead do exist beyond death in some capacity, I hope he understands that it’s not that we don’t love him... but that’s a lot of money and time and mental energy for a lot of pomp and circumstance that doesn’t make... well, I was going to say “doesn’t make anybody feel better” but someone must get comfort from that kind of thing, even if I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who has.

There’s a lot of unknowns right now. Dad was the one who handled all the household finances and I know he never went over it all with me, and I got the impression that he and mom never got around to it either (though we both mentioned that it was something we’d been thinking about, it’s obviously too late now). Mom’s worried about the taxes, and what bills are on auto-pay and all that, and it’s going to be a nightmare to go through his computer and phone and make sure all that stuff is handled... but that’s not today’s worry. I mean, I almost wish it was—it’d give me something to do now that we’re done talking to the EMTs and the police and the people from the funeral home and calling the relatives (and before I work up the nerve to call his old work friend, who is the only other person I can think of that deserves to know), but it’s also not something to walk into with two hours of sleep and a broad-but-vague understanding of how to access the data, but not what to do with it.

I haven’t cried yet, and I feel guilty about that too (though again, I’m putting it down to shock). Cat death/injury is so triggering to me that I burst into tears nearly at the mention/thought of it, but my own father is gone and I’m just sitting at my computer, typing out a lengthy essay about how I want to consider myself a piece of shit for it, but I know it’s all part of the process, etc. etc. I remember when my parents woke me up to tell me my maternal grandmother had died, I definitely cried then (and was angry) so I know it’s possible for me to feel things, or was at one point. I’m sure the depression isn’t helping (and the fact that I think my med dosage may not be good enough anymore).

I’m sort of glad for the pandemic too, for the social distancing and masks that all the strangers that came to our home at 4-6am were wearing because I haven’t taken a shower in a couple days and I am disgusting and unshaved, but hopefully they didn’t notice. At least they didn’t comment on it in my hearing, so I can maybe hopefully pretend.

Anyway. I’m currently distracting myself by writing this out, but there’s not much more I want to say at this point. I’ve posted out of my guild’s raids indefinitely for the moment (it was the first thing I did after I got out of bed while we were waiting for the EMT, and the second was tweet about it; my priorities are so fucked, y’all). I don’t really know whether I’ll be able to stay on top of D&D—it’s only once a week, it’s a much smaller group of people who are much less likely to make some sort of unthinking or triggering remark (frankly, the idea of listening to my guild leader and some of the non-raiders talk about their jobs as doctors/upcoming medical practitioners is absolutely not what I need in my life right now, and I can’t tell 19+ other people to watch every word that comes out of their mouths or from their fingers above and beyond the guild rules because it might make the baby cry (or tilt her off the face of the earth)... but I can probably get away with asking only four other people to do that) and it’s not like we’re doing much where there might be schedule conflicts. I’m gonna have to tell them for sure (well, Naha knows cos he follows me on twitter, and Kattii might cos she also follows me but I’m not sure if she keeps up with her timeline, but I don’t think the others do). I should definitely not isolate myself entirely—I don’t know a lot right now, but I know that’s a real bad idea no matter how depressed I was before this happened—so I may keep the D&D up.

I’m not sure if I should go to the Sunday Jaina runs or not, since I won’t really be part of the prog team and shouldn’t take mounts out of the mouths of people who will actually be around. I already felt kinda guilty about going to last week’s when I’d posted out of raid for mental health reasons (and had missed the week before’s entirely for same). I dunno. I’ve got a day and change to think about that one, and what I want to do with myself.

Oh, and M+ is a thing too isn’t it, fuck me. I dunno. If I do Jaina and I do D&D, I should probably at least do the M+ too; it’s only one or two runs a week even if it has been stressful because we’ve been scrambling for a filler every week for a few months now (Intol’s been wrapped up in the whole pandemic thing on his side of life, and none of us have had the time or energy to find a consistent/reliable filler until he’s ready to come back). At least I have a good excuse to not be the one scrambling for that weekly filler anymore, eh? lol :T That’s also a small group size so that should be all right. Jaina will be touchy for the larger group size reason too actually, now that I think about it (although I can probably get away with not being on discord for most of the run).

I dunno. I’m rambling now, and now I’m also rambling at Naha in DMs so maybe I should stop rambling in at least one location.

#xellafail #tw: death #just in case you needed a second trigger warning #god today's a day and it's only been five hours #actually five hours is a lot more than I thought it was gonna be #so there's that I guess lol

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years ago

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Fic: Dead Man Walking (8/10)

Summary: Prime Ministers don’t normally wake up in morgues after they’ve been murdered, but that’s exactly what Robert Sutherland has just done. Right in front of Lacey’s nose. With limited resources and not knowing who to trust, Sutherland and Lacey must work together to get to the bottom of the attempted assassination.

Based loosely on this dream I had.

Rated: T, eventually E.

Note: This is meant to be ‘darkly humorous and amusing mystery’ rather than ‘gripping political thriller’…

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [AO3]

Dead Man Walking

Eight

Lacey woke up incredibly confused as to where she was and what time it was. It felt like it ought to have been the middle of the night, but there was sunlight streaming in through the windows, and she remembered that the dawn greyness had already been showing outside when she and Sutherland had been talking. She didn’t remember falling asleep and she only had the vaguest of notions of what they had been talking about when she dropped off. Student loans had definitely come into it somewhere.

She unfolded herself out of the chair that she’d crashed in, getting tangled up in the blanket that someone had tucked in around her. She wondered if it was Sutherland. He’d been the only one with her when she’d fallen asleep, after all.

The smell of breakfast was pervading through the house, despite it probably being closer to lunch time, and Lacey followed her nose through to the kitchen. Sutherland was in there, making eggs and bacon at the stove.

“Good to see that being poisoned hasn’t affected your appetite.”

He laughed. “And good morning to you too. Well, afternoon.”

Lacey slid into a seat at the kitchen table just as Mrs de Ville came bustling in from the conservatory with a bowl of fresh tomatoes. The domesticity of the scene made her snort. Here she was, hiding out with the Prime Minister in the house of an eccentric old woman that neither of them had met before the previous night. And the Prime Minister was happily making breakfast, and Lacey was trying to tell herself that this increasingly weird scenario was all just a dream and she would wake up back in the morgue having fallen asleep on the desk. Either Sutherland would still be under his sheet, or the morgue would be empty, and Sutherland would be where he belonged in Downing Street.

She pinched herself, but it was to no avail. She was definitely here.

“What time is it?” she asked. Mrs de Ville brought over a cup of coffee which Lacey accepted gratefully.

“Just gone twelve. Not too late for brunch.”

Lacey jerked back into full wakefulness. She’d promised to call her dad at noon to reassure him that she was still all right, and if she didn’t check in soon then he’d probably start scouring the countryside for her in the belief that she’d been kidnapped by the Civil Service.

She grabbed her phone and the coffee and went out into the garden. Hopefully, the others wouldn’t think too much of her sudden disappearance.

Moe picked up on the first ring.

“Lace? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just overslept. It was a weird night.”

“You’re telling me. How’s you-know-who?”

Lacey glanced back over her shoulder at the kitchen and the figure of the Prime Minister standing there cooking. “He’s still alive and kicking. It’s really weird, you never think you’ll get to know someone like that.”

“Going into hiding following a failed assassination brings people together, I imagine.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Do you know when you might be home?”

Lacey didn’t reply for a long time; she didn’t really know. Theoretically, she could go home at any time. Nothing was stopping her apart from her own stubborn determination to see this through to the end and see justice done. She had no idea what had happened to Carrie on her trip to Chequers to look for evidence, but the fact that Sutherland and Maddie both seemed calm made her think that it had been a success. Or at least that Carrie and Ursula had both come back in one piece. The taxi was nowhere to be seen in the driveway, but Ursula likely had a home of her own to go to and was sensible enough to go to it.

“I should be back tonight,” she said. She knew that she couldn’t stay embroiled in this world forever, and it would help her to let go if she had a limit in place. The longer she stayed here, the more she would find herself thinking about Sutherland in ways that people really should not think about the Prime Minister.

“Well, keep yourself safe.”

“Of course. Thanks Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

She stayed standing in the garden for a long time after saying goodbye, thinking about the events that had transpired. More specifically, thinking about Sutherland. She really shouldn’t be developing feelings for him. They were part of two extremely different worlds for a start. She was an almost-forensic scientist in the middle of Buckinghamshire, and he was the Prime Minister and lived predominantly in London. She wasn’t exactly part of the elite that he was normally surrounded with. There was no way that he could find anything likeable about her.

Although, that said, he had been a great conversation partner and he had always taken her seriously when she had been arguing with him, never once brushing off her concerns. And he’d given her a blanket and made sure she was comfortable when she’d nodded off, likely mid-way through him talking.

She sighed. There was nothing to be gained from standing out here like a lemon, especially when her stomach was loudly informing her of the last time she’d eaten anything substantial and brunch was waiting for her in the house.

Sutherland and Mrs de Ville were both sitting at the table with plates of eggs, bacon, tomatoes, and toast in front of them when Lacey returned, and she helped herself from the dishes. The food was good, although Lacey would have been quite happy with anything vaguely edible at that point in time.

“I never had you down as the culinary type,” she said, to end the silence if nothing else. “Don’t you have staff to do all that kind of thing?”

Sutherland shook his head in despair. “You make it sound like I’ve lived in a palace my entire life. Yes, there are kitchen staff, but generally I cook for myself if I’m not hosting a grand reception for several world leaders.”

Annoyingly, that made sense, and Lacey just continued to chew her toast in silence. She really needed to stop finding reasons to like the man.

They were saved from any awkwardness by Carrie entering the kitchen. If there was one thing that Lacey had learned about Carrie in all of the very brief time that she had known her, it was that she never did anything by halves. Despite having been up all night, she was still dressed to the nines and wearing full make-up.

“Good afternoon, everyone! What a lovely day to get the head of the Civil Service banged up on an attempted murder charge.”

Mrs de Ville looked at her daughter with an expression that was part disbelief and part maternal pride. “Did you find something, then?”

Carrie waved her phone. “I most certainly did, and Spencer’s not going to know what hit him.” She threw herself down into the remaining seat at the table and grabbed a piece of toast out of Sutherland’s hand. “Hey, I found evidence that you’re at the centre of a bloodthirsty power grab plot, the least you can do is give me your toast.”

“When you couch it in those terms, I’m not entirely sure I should be grateful,” Sutherland muttered as Maddie got up to make a fresh batch of toast.

Lacey watched the interplay between Carrie and Sutherland, and a part of her had to wonder. She wasn’t exactly jealous of the easy familiarity between them, or the fact that Sutherland was so comfortable with Carrie in his personal space, but she’d spent so long trying not to be attracted to him that she hadn’t really thought about whether there was in fact anyone else in the picture, someone who would render her thoughts moot anyway. She knew that he wasn’t married and was nominally single, and she’d always suspected that if there was a significant other in his life then it would be all over the papers, him being such a public figure and all. On the other hand, if his significant other was his closest assistant, then they would certainly be in the best position to keep everything under wraps.

Carrie’s phone began to ring, and she gave a theatrical sigh, taking her toast with her out of the kitchen and into the living room where they had been holed up the previous evening. If it was a professional call then it probably wasn’t a good idea to take it in a place where the caller could potentially overhear that Sutherland was still alive. Maybe the news had been spread further than they thought.

Lacey still didn’t really understand what the plan was supposed to be in terms of keeping it under wraps. Sutherland’s death had not been reported to the public yet, which meant that there were three distinct groups of people: those who thought he was dead, those who knew he was alive, and those who weren’t aware that there had been any change in his state at all and would hopefully continue their lives none the wiser. She had to smile when she thought of the potential headlines regarding the assassination attempt, and she wondered if there would even be any or if the Civil Service would work to keep everything tightly clamped down. Especially since one of their own was heavily implicated in the plot. She knew that if she’d been reading about everything that had happened on the news, then she wouldn’t believe any of it. She only half-believed it now, and she was living in the middle of it.

“Darlings, I am afraid I am going to have to love you and leave you.” Carrie swept back into the kitchen, taking another two pieces of toast from the rack that Maddie was bringing over to the table. “News of your demise and resurrection has spread to my London-based colleagues and no one knows whether they ought to be planning a funeral, asking Archie to come and take over as interim Prime Minister, or sending the attack dogs to get Sir Albert. I think most of them are hoping for the latter. It’s absolute chaos up there, I’m going to have to go and sort it out personally before anyone else can do something catastrophic.”

“Should I come?” Sutherland was halfway out of his chair, but Carrie pushed him back down.

“No, no, you sit tight here with Lacey and Mother for a while longer. You’re my secret weapon, darling. I want to be able to pull you out of the bag with relish and enjoy the look on Albert Spencer’s face when he realises just what’s been going on whilst he’s been frantically looking for your corpse.” She kissed him on both cheeks in farewell and did the same to her mother. “I’ll call you when it’s safe for you to come back! In the meantime, avoid rhododendrons!”

With that, she left the kitchen again, and Lacey listened to her rushing around the house gathering her things together.

“I’ll go and see her off.” Maddie left the kitchen, and if Lacey didn’t know better then she’d say that she’d given her a very pointed look as she closed the door after her.

Sutherland looked at the door for a long time, then he met Lacey’s eyes. “I think she’s doing that on purpose.”

“What?”

“Leaving us alone together.”

Well, having a pensioner match-make her with the Prime Minister was certainly a new experience for Lacey, but she wasn’t going to knock it yet. Presumably if Maddie was attempting to set them up, then it meant that there was nothing between Carrie and Sutherland, but at the same time, Maddie may not have been the most observant of souls.

Still, it gave her an opening. If everything went completely down the tubes after this then she never had to see the man again, after all. Her moped was still outside, and she could be at home forgetting about the entire ordeal in half an hour.

“I was thinking the same,” she said. “But then you and Carrie…”

Sutherland laughed. “I’m the wrong gender for Carrie. No, I think she’s got her sights set on Ursula rather than me.”

“Oh. Right.”

With that particular misapprehension cleared up, Lacey didn’t really know where to go next. She and Sutherland were both still looking at each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Lacey took a deep breath, sticking to her previous reassurance that if it all went wrong, she could just escape back home and never think of the incident again. She moved around to the seat at the table next to Sutherland that Maddie had just vacated and inched a little closer to him.

“So…” she began. “Over the last very weird day, I’ve come to the conclusion that despite everything I may have said about you and the government in the past, I do really like you. And I was just wondering if you perhaps liked me too, and that Mrs de Ville was actually making the right choice in leaving us alone together on purpose.”

Sutherland gave a slow nod. “Yes, Lacey. I do like you.”

“And not just because I rescued you from a morgue?”

“Not just because I rescued you from a morgue.” He gave a soft huff of laughter. “To be honest, I’m glad that you were the one to bring it up.”

“Really?”

“Well, you’re a beautiful, bright young thing and I’m a crusty old politician. Things could have gone very badly if I’d made the first move.”

Lacey thought back to when she’d found him in a towel on the landing, and the raging desires that had consumed her mind for those few moments.

“I get your point. I don’t think that things are going to go badly, though. I mean, by necessity our time together is limited, right? You’ll go back to London. I’ll stay here. It’s a very limited window of opportunity that we’ve got here, and if we both like each other, then we might as well make the most of it.”

Sutherland nodded. “If there’s one thing that I’ve always been good at, it’s seizing windows of opportunity.”

Lacey took the plunge then, leaning in and pressing her lips against Sutherland’s. He accepted her readily, hands coming up to cup her face and pull her in closer. He was a surprisingly good kisser, firm and eager, and Lacey could help but grin as she pulled away.

“No regrets, Prime Minister?”

“None apart from you calling me that.”

“I have to call you something.”

“I’ve got a name, you know. You can call me Robert.”

Lacey paused. Going onto first name terms made it so much more intimate, more than just a one-night stand. Well, one-day stand, considering how messed-up their sleeping patterns were at the moment. She’d had plenty of one-night stands before but having one with the Prime Minister was something entirely different.

Oh, what the hell.

“No regrets, Robert?”

“None.”

He kissed her again, and Lacey scrambled from her chair into his lap. Whatever happened now, she was definitely going to make sure that it was worth it.

#rumbelle fic #sutheracey #Robert Sutherland #Lacey French #Fic: Dead Man Walking

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phoenix-downer · 5 years ago

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Hello! I haven't played KH III yet but I plan to. I have come across some really hateful posts on tumblr and even twitter about Sora and Kairi being together. It appears some people are really upset that Sora and Riku didn't become a thing and have downplayed Sora x Kairi's relationship as something as forced and not having chemistry. I had no idea this was even a thing. Can you tell me where this hostility came from? I thought it was obvious that they had feelings for each other.

Hello! Thanks for the ask! There’s a lot to examine here, but I’ll do my best to try to tackle the whole issue with tact and empathy. Light/very vague spoilers for K/H/3, E/ndgame, and F/M/A follow (with slashes so they hopefully don’t show up in the tags).

First of all, I’m so sorry you’ve stumbled across those kinds of tweets and posts. If I could, I’d shield everyone from having to deal with such hatred and negativity about something they enjoy. Doesn’t matter what you ship; no one deserves to deal with that level of toxicity.

Imagine going into a room and hearing people talk loudly about something you love, talk about how much they hate it and how much it sucks. Doesn’t make you feel very welcome, does it? But that’s exactly what’s happening here - you’re not the only one who’s noticed this. I have had to block or mute so many people because of the kind of bashing you describe. People purposely tagging their hate so that fans can see it, saying nasty things and picking fights in a way that makes you wonder what they get out of being so cruel and vicious.

I’ve seen it so much that I’m extra sensitive to it now too; I block much more quickly than I did in the past. And I would advise other people to do the same. You don’t owe anyone access to your social media. They’re not entitled to your time or energy, either. You don’t owe it to them to read their hate. By blocking them, you take away part of their audience, you take away their attention. And the thing is, they want that attention. They want to make other people angry and miserable because they’re angry and miserable. And you don’t have to give them the satisfaction.

Sadly, because twitter and tumblr have such poor moderation, no one running these sites is doing much to stop these people. In fact, the platforms even encourage that kind of behavior, because the loudest people get the most attention. So that encourages and emboldens the kind of nasty behavior you’re seeing.

Now, this is not to say there is never room for criticism, because there is, but that is a very different thing from what you’re describing, which is plain old bashing. Criticism and critique are offered in the hope that something will improve; bashing is done to express pure vitriol, and it isn’t productive for anyone. It might feel good in the moment, but in the end it just leaves people bitter and empty.

There are plenty of people critiquing K/H and how the games went and how the various character arcs unfolded and how the relationships developed, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Shutting down all criticism isn’t healthy; it should be allowed and encouraged, as constructive criticism leads to healthy dialogue, both with other fans and with S/quare E/nix. And Square has listened to fans in the past; they’ve fixed issues with gameplay that occurred when 1.5 and 2.5 were ported to the PS4 and converted to 60 fps, for example.

Neither is there anything wrong with venting to a close friend in a private setting - DMs, PMs, on your personal blog or twitter account with the ship you’re criticizing censored somehow so that everyone who likes it doesn’t have to stumble across your venting. Heaven knows I’ve had to vent a lot to stay in the fandom without lashing out. The issue is when someone thinks it’s okay to force their anger and negativity onto other people who don’t want to see it or hear it.

So the question is, why are we stumbling across such strong feelings? Because it’s clear people feel pretty strongly about all this.

I don’t think there’s an easy answer as to why this is happening, but I’ll take a shot at explaining what might’ve happened all the same. I’m sure if you asked someone else, they might give you a different answer, and it’s worth getting multiple perspectives. This is just my two cents, and naturally, it’s going to be biased towards my experiences and preferences.

The shipwars in the K/ingdom H/earts fandom have been nasty for years. From what I can gather, they got really bad when KH2 was released, though I’m sure there was probably drama before then. S*kai fans and S*riku fans did not see eye to eye on how that game went, and it’s all been downhill ever since. People on both sides have been mean and nasty, I’ve seen them be nasty, hurling insults and slurs and accusing each other of awful things to the point that the question of “who started it” is pretty much moot at this point. A more productive question would be, “how can we end it and get along, or at least start treating each other better?”

Now, since I ship S*kai (obviously), I’ll share why this is such a touchy subject for me personally. I’ve been in fandom for a while now, and something I’ve noticed is just how much fans tend to hate female characters because of sexism and internalized misogyny.

I was in the M/C/U fandom before this, and Sh*ron’s actress got death threats around the time C/ivil W/ar came out from angry shippers. And then P*ggy’s actress has likewise been harassed after E/ndgame came out by, again, angry shippers. I was a big F/M/A fan back in the day, and W*nry got so much hate from, you guessed it, angry shippers. I remember a friend back then rolling her eyes and bashing W*nry, and when I asked her why she hated her, she couldn’t really give me a clear answer other than that she was “whiny.”

Heaven forbid a female character not be completely perfect.

Over and over, I saw this pattern repeating. A female character gets hate because there is a popular alternate pairing that she “gets in the way of.” Even before I had the vocabulary to talk about it, the hatred just struck me as very gendered. I never saw that level of hatred for any of the male characters unless they were written to be hated (hello Shou T*cker). And I was likewise harsher on female characters than on their male counterparts. It took me years to realize what I was doing and to try to put a stop to it.

So then I came to the K/ingdom H/earts fandom with all that background and baggage, dealing with years of people hating characters I liked and looked up to and identified with, and I saw the same thing happening again. Yet another female character getting nasty hate because of her gender, because she dared to like a boy who was shipped with another boy. Because she dared to fall in love. How dare she have feelings, how dare she be feminine, how dare she wear pink and have a flowery Keyblade. How dare her strength of heart be stronger than her physical strength. There is only one kind of strength that matters, and it’s how hard you can kick someone’s ass (wrong, wrong, wrong, and one look at the whole power of friendship thing this series revolves around would tell you that).

How dare K*iri not be an instant expert at fighting, which is cruel and ironic because if she was an instant expert at fighting, everyone would be crying Mary Sue. How dare she sass and tease S*ra, she’s such a bitch. Oh, she doesn’t tease him as much in K/H/3 and is more gentle and supportive because he’s going through hell and nearly loses everything and she knows he needs her support now more than ever? She’s a complete pushover!

See what I mean by how hard people are on female characters? K*iri can’t win no matter what she does. She could have the best character arc ever post K/H/3 and people would still find something to complain about. That’s not to say I don’t have issues with how she’s written, I just think the criticisms against her tend to be way overblown. There aren’t enough discussions about how she could improve moving forward (though I have seen them, and thank you to those of you who do have them!), instead people just write her off completely as useless and worthless and want to improve her character by… dropping her out of the story completely (and yes, I’ve run into someone who actually thought this would be a good thing and always felt the need to talk about it, and it absolutely drove me up the wall).

And worst of all, she can’t win because S*ra fell in love with her. Really, it’s ironic that she gets as much hate as she does for something S*ra did. She had no control over S*ra falling in love with her, and yet she is absolutely despised by people because he did. She isn’t “good enough” for him apparently, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

I share all this to explain why I was so sensitive to the issue coming in. I saw the same thing happening I’d experienced time and again and I was so exhausted. So tired of it. I didn’t want to deal with it again, and I was on my guard right from the start. Especially because it’s so normalized in online KH communities to bash K*iri and S*kai. The major ones, too, with lots of people and a wide range of (or lack thereof) of shipping preferences, not just dedicated shipping groups. Try to go an entire discussion without seeing it come up… it’s a lot harder than you might think.

At first I tried to be patient and understanding. Other people have different tastes, and I wanted to be understanding of that. But after years of watching the bashing happen, my patience ran thin. I was sick of seeing it enabled in major K/H communities, sick of seeing mods refuse to put a stop to it, or worse, low-key join in with the bashing, sick of having to put up with so much negativity when all I wanted was somewhere to discuss something I enjoyed. Some people seemed almost gleeful, almost eager in their bashing; any time K*iri was brought up, they felt compelled to express their hatred for her. They were more obsessed with her than her actual fans were; felt more passionately (albeit negatively) about S*kai than some actual S*kai shippers did.

When I reached that point, the point where I was tempted to be negative and snappy and rude, I knew I couldn’t engage with certain people anymore. So I stopped trying. I searched for S*kai fans here on tumblr and stuck with them. I didn’t want to add to an already tense situation, and thankfully, there are other people who feel the same way (but more on that later).

And on the S*riku side of things, some of them have shared that they have been told nasty homophobic things for shipping S*riku. And for many of them, I’m sure S*riku is a way of expressing their identity, a way of exploring their feelings and expressing them in a safe, welcoming way with fellow fans who get what they’re going through. Representation has gotten better in recent years (though it still has a long way to go), but back when the K/H games were first coming out, things were different, and people had to take what they could get from canon and run with it if they wanted to see more content that represented them.

I’ve also seen a few people say that certain S*kai fans went out of their way to message them and rub what happened in K/H/3 in their faces. That kind of gloating is bound to upset anyone, yikes. Canon has become the new gold standard for shipping in the last decade or so, and it has sadly been weaponized in the ever-nastier ship wars, when really, a ship’s value shouldn’t be based on how “canon” it is but on the joy it brings to people.

So yeah, we have a situation where enough people on both sides were treating others poorly that everyone got defensive, because how could you not when people keep attacking something you love, especially if you feel strongly about it/associate it with your identity? And that made people more likely to lash out, and when they did, people got even more defensive, and the cycle repeated, over and over and over again.

And you know how I mentioned I sought refuge with likeminded fans? I think that happened all over the fandom. People seek out those who will support them and support their beliefs and form identities and communities based around them… and that’s a double-edged sword.

On the one hand, it’s great to get so much support, especially if you’re seeking refuge from a particularly nasty ship war. Having a safe place to vent and unwind and finally get to talk about what you love without fear of getting hate over it is awesome.

On the other hand, things like echo chambers, confirmation bias, groupthink, and the false consensus effect flourish in those kinds of situations. If all you hear is that XYZ pairing must be canon or will be canon in a future game from the group of people you’ve surrounded yourself with, and everyone enthusiastically agrees because everyone ships the same thing you do and of course no one is going to rain on that parade, it can come as quite a shock when a new piece of canon comes out and doesn’t align to your expectations. Especially if you’ve spent years expecting canon to align with your expectations.

We lose something when we can’t engage in healthy dialogue with people who disagree with us. Our perceptions get warped, our memories might even get warped, and what we could’ve sworn was canon… we might be surprised to see wasn’t, when we revisit the source material with a more critical eye or listen to someone who sees things differently than we do.

But how can we have that healthy dialogue when there’s been so much bad blood? How can we listen to each other when there’s no trust? It’s nearly impossible, so instead we reinforce the beliefs and ideas our own communities already hold fast to, and the cycle continues. We draw lines in the sand separating “us” vs. “them” and don’t give each other a chance. Not only does this alienate people on opposite ends of the shipping spectrum, it also alienates multishippers because they’re considered “traitors” to both sides, and that is an uncomfortable place to be.

I think that’s why you find the whole thing so jarring. I’m guessing you might not be as heavily involved with the fandom as I am, and have thus been largely immune from the perils of echo chambers and confirmation bias. So for you it must seem really weird that something that seems clear to you is so contentious to other people. I don’t say this to throw shade at anyone, because I know the same thing would’ve happened if the pairings had gotten switched around. It’s more of an observation of a phenomenon I’ve seen happen over and over again throughout the years.

So all of that is to say, things are tense because of all these backgrounds and experiences and histories people bring into the fandom. No one exists in a vacuum, and things were already tense before K/H/3 even came out. K/ingdom H/earts has been such an important part of many people’s lives and growing up experiences that they feel a deep connection to it and almost a sense of ownership of it. It’s a shared story, a shared experience. It belongs to all of us, in a way, and yet it’s still N*mura’s baby.

And that’s where we run into more issues. How much say should fans have in a work of art? Does the creator get the final say in interpretation, or should she accept that once her creation has been released into the world, it’s up to other people to interpret what she meant? There are no easy answers to these kinds of questions, and they’re widely debated and discussed (see: the whole death of the author debacle).

However, while I think feeling a sense of ownership and investment in a piece of art is totally fine, it crosses the line when it gets into the realm of entitlement. By this I do not mean asking for more representation, because that is a perfectly good thing to ask for; I mean demanding that the creators cater to your whims… or else. I mean contacting people who worked on the game on twitter and demanding they change the story to make it “right.” I mean directly telling one of the VAs you want her replaced because you thought she did a bad job. And yes, I am talking about actual stuff I’ve seen happen in this very fandom. All of that has also left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and other people I’ve talked to have felt the same.

That being said, shipping in and of itself is not the problem. For every nasty tweet and bashing post out there, there are plenty of kind and good people who are just there to enjoy their ships. Lovely artists and talented writers and skilled gif makers and editors creating a wealth of beautiful content for something they love. People who would never harass others for their shipping preferences and are disgusted by those who do. Unfortunately, they’re not the ones getting the attention, and they’re probably not the ones you’re going to run into if you ship a different ship, as they tend to stick to their own spaces out of courtesy and respect.

This means that the people you are more likely to run into are the ones who want to pick fights. The ones who bash and stir up drama and tell people to kill themselves for shipping XYZ. While there are plenty of people being cruel and nasty and toxic, there are good people in the fandom too. Kind, caring people who will see you as a person first and not an XYZ, even if they don’t agree with you on everything. They’re quiet(er), because kindness isn’t usually flashy and showy, but they’re here. You just have to know how to find them.

Thanks for the ask! I tried to answer this as fairly as I could, based on my observations and things I’ve been stewing over for a while now, so I hope it sheds more light on the situation.

#answer #kagome1991 #long post #i don't usually participate in the discourseTM but these thoughts have been on my mind for a while and I wanted to get them written out #kh discourse #kh3 spoilers #fma spoilers #endgame spoilers #no super heavy spoilers or anything I'm just tagging them to be safe

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kusunogatari · 5 years ago

Text

[ Plague || Chapter Two ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Blood, vomit ] [ Verse: When Dead Walk ] [ Previous || Next ]

A few more hours’ travel sees them reach the designated village. It’s nearly nightfall, but the village head hurries out to meet them. “You are the medic from Konoha?”

“Yes sir - do you have someplace we can speak without being overheard?” Best to avoid panicking the populace.

“Yes, yes of course - this way.”

Fubuki on her shoulder, Ryū and Kakashi follow into the man’s office, declining an offer of tea. “What did Tsunade-sama tell you?”

“Only that the illness is spreading, must be quarantined, and that you would be coming. Is it...just one of you…?”

“I’m here to get a grasp on the situation and report back - depending on the severity, Konoha will be sending more medics as they are able. We have reports of cases spreading across Hi no Kuni. We have to ensure the areas most affected receive the most help.”

“Of...of course. Um...we have a population of about three hundred. Of that, we’ve had seven cases...so far.”

So, about two percent… “And where are the patients now?”

“They’ve all been taken to the clinic, and regular patients are being seen elsewhere. We didn’t want to risk it spreading.”

“Smart,” Ryū praises. “Thus far, we know the illness spreads through bodily fluids - typically blood or saliva, the latter of which occurs the most through bites as the illness increases aggression. So as soon as someone starts exhibiting symptoms, they should be isolated for their and others’ safety.”

The elder gives a quick nod. “I’ve had our local guards keeping an eye on things. If anything seems suspicious, they let me know immediately.”

“May I see the patients?”

“Yes, though...I must warn you, many are very, uh…” A pause. “...angry.”

“I’m prepared.”

They cross the street and head down a ways before reaching the small local clinic. Within is another medic, who bows in greeting.

“Are you the attending physician?”

“In…a manner of speaking. I haven’t had the formal training you lot in Konoha have, but...I’m the most knowledgeable here. I mostly deal with herbs and old practices without chakra. I’ve, um...I’ve been recording what I’ve found.”

That gets Ryū to perk. “Good - the more data we have, the quicker we’ll hopefully find a cure.”

“You really think this can be cured…?”

“I certainly hope so...or at least I’m hoping for a vaccine to stop the spread. This particular illness is dangerous and lethal. We need to curb its progress as soon as possible. If you don’t mind, I’ll take your notes and the information the clinic has of the population and send a note to Tsunade-sama right away.”

“Y-yes!” Fumbling for a folder, the local medic hands it over along with several others. “The records from the last few months. Our first case was about two weeks ago...and it’s been steadily increasing from there.”

Nodding, Ryū lets the village head lead them to some temporary housing. “If you’ve need of anything, please just let us know. I’ll have a supper brought for the pair of you immediately.”

“Thank you.” Turning on a lamp, Ryū sits and begins going over the notations. To her frustration, there’s not much to it...and almost nothing she wasn’t already aware of from her own research in Konoha. “...that medic is right...she’s lacking training. It’s clear she’s missing things...but overall, it follows the same pattern as what I and the others in Konoha observed.”

“...is that good or bad?”

“...good. For now, we have consistent data from multiple pooling points. So far, that means it probably hasn’t mutated, or not very far as to present varying symptoms.” Taking down copies of key parts of the notes, Ryū then seals them in a tiny scroll along with her note explaining her own thoughts thus far. Tying it carefully to the white owl’s leg, she murmurs, “Fly fast.”

“Of course.” Let through a window, Fubuki quickly disappears into the night.

By then, rations are sent, and the human pair eat in silence.

“...so, what do you think will happen here?”

After a pause, Ryū swallows. “I...embellished a bit.”

“...oh?”

“I need to get back to Kusunokizan and tend to Obito. I can still collect research on him, and it might actually be easier with a single individual, let alone in such secluded, consistent conditions. And for that to happen...Tsunade needs to send at least one more medic here to take my place.”

“...did you tell her you want to leave?”

“I did. I said we ran into a man in the wilderness with the disease, and that I sent him home for further study by my teacher...and that I’d like to continue my own research there. I don’t know if she’ll agree, but...either way, I’ll be leaving once they send another medic.”

A silver brow perks. “...and if they don’t?”

“They will.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

Ryū nods, finishing another bite. “At the very least, they’ll want a second set of eyes and hands.”

“...won’t that be a moot point if you leave?”

“I’ll still be working. Just not here.”

Kakashi can’t help a snort at that. “...true. So…I take it I’ll be going with you?”

“I’d assumed you’d want to, given who he apparently is.”

“You really had no idea?”

“I’d never met him before my trips to Suna, and he never revealed anything troubling. I had no idea he was even Uchiha. All I knew was that I was supposed to call him Tobi. I never saw a cloak...he always appeared without it - he just had traveling gear. I thought he was a mercenary, maybe a low-rank missing nin given I don’t really know the Bingo book...but I never thought…” Her tone trails into silence.

“...well, I’ve got no reason to doubt you. It’s going to be...tricky, not letting this slip. As of now...we’re withholding valuable information from the village about a pivotal enemy.”

Something in Ryū’s face hardens. “...I’m not turning him in.”

“Oh…?”

“He’s…” A sigh. “...it’s a long story.”

“And we’ve got nothing but time.”

Silence for a time. And then, “...he’s never done anything to hurt me.”

“Even terrible people can play favorites.”

She shoots him a look. “...how many people have you killed, Kakashi?”

“Honestly? I can’t say. Between war time, my stint in ANBU, and just...regular missions...probably hundreds by now.”

“And how many of them were just serving their village like you serve yours?”

“...Ryū…”

“Every shinobi kills. Every shinobi does terrible things to people just because they live on the other side of an imaginary line. Sometimes even people of their own nation! I don’t want to make that judgment yet...not until he tells me the truth.” Ryū’s jaw sets stubbornly. “...back in the third war, Iwa shinobi massacred my entire village. Others were razed to the ground, too. But that was because they had people to protect. A land to defend. A Kage to serve. Did Konoha really never do anything as gruesome?”

His silence is telling enough.

“...Akatsuki nin are killing people. And it’s probably for an ideal they have. Just like all the other factions of shinobi.” She pokes at her food, expression soured. “...my clan never paid attention to borders. We traveled everywhere, healed everyone. Because when push comes to shove...all shinobi are the same. They just fight for different reasons. They kill. They torture. They destroy. And most come back to families. Husbands, wives, children, parents...and they keep living. But that monster is always just beneath the skin. A monster I’ve never been able to understand. And probably never will. But I do know that, if a shinobi can love just as they hate...then there’s still enough good in them to be worth saving.”

A lengthy pause, and then she whispers, “...so...if he can love me, then...there’s good in him. I know it…”

Kakashi heaves a sigh. In truth, he wants to argue her naivety, but...she’s seen war firsthand. Maybe not the same way he has - victim as opposed to soldier - but...she still knows life and death. Love and hate. Loss and joy.

Maybe her hopeful view is just as valid as his cynical one.

“...well, for now, keep up your work...and we’ll see what Tsunade says. Until then, our hands are a bit tied.”

“...I’ll see the patients tomorrow. See how far they’ve all progressed. And see if I can learn anything from some blood and saliva samples.”

“Understood.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy for either of them. Curled on her side, Ryū does nothing but worry. About Konoha’s patients, those here...and Obito. It’s so strange to address him by another name, but...well, she’d always suspected it was a monicker. She just...didn’t know why he kept it from her.

Now she knows. Someone supposedly dead, from a nearly-extinct clan...and part of a gang of criminals. Surprisingly...she feels rather...calm about it all. Probably because, to her, in the end...shinobi really are all the same. Sure, some have better morals than others, but...they all have blood on their hands.

Blood she enables every time she heals one.

It’s been a moral debate within herself from the day she arrived in Konoha. Part of her, still, is afraid of them. Part of her, even now, considers leaving and shifting her practices. Whether strictly to a civilian village, or just back home.

And yet...and yet…

Sighing, she buries her face under the blankets. Now is not the time for psychological dilemmas. Now is time to rest, and get ready for what will likely be weeks solid of work. Maybe no different than her typical schedule...but this is far, far more pressing. A world full of people driven to madness with hunger and pain is one she cannot allow.

The rest she can debate once this is cured.

Come morning, she throws herself out of bed and gets to work. Kakashi follows. Her mind shifts into work mode, expression a practiced neutral as she listens to the local medic, observing her patients.

...it’s not pretty.

The most advanced, two weeks infected, is hardly even human anymore. Slamming hands against the locked door, he peers wildly through the small window in the metal. Blood stains his front and face. The same condition as Obito, perhaps another week or so in advancement.

The rest are tapered down from there, the most recent of which begs to be released. “P-please, I...I’m not that sick! It’s just a fever, a-and some chills! Really, I -!”

“I’m sorry, sir - we have to take every available precaution,” Ryū explains softly.

Tears well in his eyes, defeat plain in them. “...am I...am I gonna turn into one of those...those things…?”

“We’re doing everything we can to find a cure and vaccine. Until then, we’ll do all we can to make you comfortable, and keep you safe.”

...they feel like such empty words.

She hates herself for it.

...but what else can she do?

Using barriers and caution, she extracts blood samples from each patient, looking into the cellular structures and trying to pinpoint what precisely is causing the outbreak...and how it changes through time’s progression.

Just as she begins, Fubuki returns, this time without a scroll tied to a leg. “Ryū-sama!”

“Did she agree?”

“Tsunade-sama has decided to send a squadron of three medics to this location,” the summon reports. “They will be accompanied by a four shinobi cell. And you will be given leave to return to Kusunokizan as soon as they arrive. She asks you continue your work here until then.”

Well...a partial victory. She’d hoped to start traveling immediately, but...given the lack of training of this town’s medic, Ryū knows that’s for the best. “Very well. You’re free to go - thank you.”

Head bobbing in a makeshift bow, Fubuki heads out to likely eat and rest.

“So, another day at best - they likely were sent as soon as Fubuki left,” Kakashi muses.

“Mm.”

Observing cell changes throughout the day, Ryū realizes something. “...I think I know what this is.”

“You do?”

“...it has to be a virus. It’s too small for me to sense...and its behavior is that of a viral infection. It’s just so tiny...I only noticed because I happened to catch a cell bursting.”

“...I’ll pretend I know what that means.”

“Viruses are extremely basic in structure. Unlike bacteria, they need a cell host to replicate. When they do, the cell is reprogrammed to create more virus...and then bursts when it’s overrun.”

“Sounds gruesome.”

“It is, on a microscopic scale.”

“So...can you treat it?”

“...well, it’s more complex than a bacterial infection. Since a virus uses the body against itself - takes over the very cells of its host - the best way to prevent it from getting worse...is to find a way to prevent it from multiplying.” Turning to face him, she leans against the counter, arms folding. “This is usually accomplished by examining the DNA or RNA - the genetic code - of the virus, and finding its weak points: ways to inhibit it from successfully passing on its genetic code into a cell, and making more virus. That allows the immune system to catch up, and the virus dies, unable to spread further.”

“...so, you’ll have to take this thing apart before you can treat it.”

“Exactly.”

“...how hard is that?”

“Depends. Given that this is the smallest virus I’ve personally ever encountered...isolating it for study with our current methods will be difficult. But once we have more people working on it, our odds will go up. This will also mean making a vaccine, too. We just...have to break the code first. As soon as Fubuki’s had a chance to rest, I can send another note to Tsunade-sama...and she can spread word from there.”

For now, she keeps observing the cells, taking down any notes that seem relevant. Kakashi, mostly taskless in such a safe environment, takes to scouting the town and keeping an eye out for anyone else that might have come down with the plague.

The next morning, the other medics arrive. Doing her best to explain quickly but thoroughly, Ryū hands over copies of her notes she spent most of the night making.

“It is a virus.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. It’s just such a small scale, we missed it. I barely caught it the first time, but once I knew what to look for, it was obvious. We have to get as many medics as we can working on getting into the genetic code. For now...I don’t think there’s much point in trying to alleviate symptoms. They advance too quickly, and the patients are too dangerous.”

The other three nod in grave agreement. “You’re heading back, then?”

“To another location with a single, secluded patient. I’m hoping I can learn more, and have a more focused regimen there.”

“...good luck.”

Ryū wastes no time in packing up her gear once Fubuki takes wing to Konoha, Kakashi always ready at a moment’s notice. “Let’s go.” Back to the road they go, eventually veering north to the mountains between Hi no Kuni and Yu.

“Don’t suppose we can get a ride in on a dragon like Obito, can we?” Kakashi asks as they trek up a barely-discernible path.

“I don’t want to risk interrupting her...besides, I need to conserve my chakra. I’m getting to work as soon as we arrive.”

“What am I gonna be doing?”

“...making sure he doesn’t kill me,” Ryū replies under her breath.

“...wonderful.”

By sundown, they make their way into the valley proper. Ryū, spreading her senses, finds both Obito and her teacher’s chakra up atop the peak in the sage’s cave. “Great...more climbing.” But she supposes that makes the most sense.

As the pair crest the stone stairs to the small plateau, they’re both thoroughly winded. The sun has set, Ryū lighting their path with a spare orb of chakra in a hand. “Okay...this way…” They trek to the right, the peak continuing to rise...and in it, the mouth of a cave. Pillars carved into the sides are lit as she approaches. “...shishō…?”

Out snakes the sage’s head. “Have you learned anything during our time apart?”

“I’m nearly certain it’s a virus. One I’ve never seen before - I’ve sent Fubuki with word to Tsunade. I’m hoping, with other medics working in tandem, one of us will make a breakthrough. For now...I’ll keep working here, and keep an eye on him. How...how is he?”

The sage snorts a cloud of vapor. “Nearly the same as when you entrusted him to me. His anger is unrelenting, as is his hunger. Terrible spasms, vomiting, chills and yet fevers. This illness ravages him. I have offered him smaller prey, which he has accepted...but much of it is lost when he expels. I fear his caloric intake may be insufficient. And he may yet be susceptible to other disease while his body is so weakened. We must be careful.”

...well, that’s not what she’d hoped for, but honestly what she expected. “...I’ll need to take blood samples to try to work on the virus’ code.”

“Not tonight. You are weary from travel. Rest, and we will speak again in the morning.”

“But -?”

“No arguments, deshi. A tired mind means unsound work. Temper your eagerness with patience.”

For a moment Ryū nearly argues...but she knows her teacher is right. “...all right. But...must we keep him up here?”

“It is safer this way.”

“Yes, but...it would be more convenient if he were in the manor. If I have to make the trek every time I wish to observe him or take another sample, it will only waste time and energy.”

Suigin’s eyes narrow in thought. “...prepare a room with proper seals to create a barrier, like that which surrounds the manor. Once that is done, I will move him.”

A curt nod. “Come on, senpai - let’s go.”

There’s a palpable relief at being home. Ryū quickly clears a guest room of dust for Kakashi, apologizing for the mess.

“Not like you were expecting company,” he offers dryly. “I’ve stayed in far worse places.”

Mind restless and body tense, she employs some therapeutic breathing once she crawls into bed before managing to sleep for a few hours. By dawn she can’t sit still any longer, and gets to work.

Finding old sealing paper, she chooses a room fairly close to her own. Carefully recreating the seals that surround the house, she erects one in each corner.

“...so, this makes a barrier?”

Glancing up to see Kakashi, she nods. “Mhm. One that draws energy from the nature around it, like sage meditation. That way I don’t have to keep it up myself. It’s slow...but should be enough to keep him contained.”

“...you’re sure?”

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on it. He’s just one person, and in all our research and observations, none of the people infected have used ninjutsu. The impairment to their fine motor skills means they can’t control or manipulate chakra. So he’ll only have his regular taijutsu to bang on this with. It’ll be fine.”

Kakashi doesn’t look convinced, but for now doesn’t argue. He’ll see it with his own eyes first.

“...there, that’s the last piece. Now to just...get him in here.”

“...you sure you’re all right with all this?”

“What do you mean?”

He eyes her warily. “...you’re not going to have issues because of how...personal this is, are you?”

“I can handle it.”

“...like you did when we found him?”

“That was -!” She cuts off. “...that was mostly due to surprise. By now I’ve had time to...process all of this. I’ll be fine.” A pause, and then, “...and you?”

“I’ve seen enough people I care about die to be ready for one like this. Between that, war, and missions...not much surprises me anymore. Besides…” His eye closes in a smile. “I have faith you’ll get this done...and then everything will be fine.”

Surprise widens her eyes for a moment...but then she gives a weary grin of her own. “...I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

Rather than make the trek back up, Ryū employs Fubuki to fly up to her teacher’s hiding place and have her bring Obito down to the manor. In the meantime, she paces nervously back and forth in the entry hall while Kakashi watches, leaned against a wall with folded arms.

“You know that won’t make him get here any faster.”

“No, but it makes me feel better.”

Twenty minutes after sending her summon, Ryū senses her teacher approaching. And with it, the subdued chakra of Obito. The dragon has henged into a human form, the unconscious Uchiha in her arms.

Lip nibbled pensively, Ryū wordlessly guides her to the room she chose. The sage then lays him atop a futon before checking the seals for herself.

“...these will suffice. Be sure to examine them regularly. They should draw enough energy to sustain under his aggression, but vigilance is of the utmost importance.”

“Of course. I’ll be careful. And Kakashi-senpai is another set of eyes and ears.”

“Yes...I am glad you do not face this alone. Though...you must tell me more about this one when you’ve a spare moment,” Suigin muses. “I am most...curious about him, and your connection.”

Ryū’s startled expression tinges pink. “Er...right.” Now, however, is hardly the time. With Obito unconscious...it’s time to take a blood sample, and get to work. Bowing to her teacher, Ryū watches her go before turning to Obito.

He’s been stripped of his outer Akatsuki cloak - surely by now the dried blood and vomit was a scent to gag even the strongest stomachs. Instead, he’s left with a body-fitted shirt to his wrists and chin, standard trousers, and his socks and sandals. Gloves cover his hands, but his mask is nowhere to be found...he must have lost it after becoming ill. Suigin, to Ryū’s relief, has also cleared the mess from his skin...but she knows it won’t be long until he’s soiled again.

For a moment, her expression softens, threatens to crack. Though her senses keenly watch his chakra for the smallest sign of him waking, she takes a moment to cup a hand along his right cheek. Teeth grit in her jaw to the point of creaking.

“...I’m going to fix this,” she whispers. “I’m going to help you...just...w-wait a little longer. I promise…” A harsh swallow tries to clear the lump in her throat. “...so don’t you dare give up…! You have to keep fighting it…! I’ll...I’ll never forgive you if you let this win…!”

Outside, beyond the door and leaned against a wall, Kakashi wilts with a light sigh, head bowing.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Ryū holds it a moment...and then exhales. Ever so carefully, she takes an arm, rolling back his sleeve and making a minute incision along his forearm. Her leg pack provides several phials she fills with blood before smoothing the wound shut. “...I have to get to work now...rest while you can. I’ll...bring you something to eat later.” She knows there’s no point in talking. Not only can he likely not hear her...but as he is, there’s no reason left to interpret her words. But it makes her feel...calmer.

Standing, she moves through the doorway, turning back to face the nearly-empty room. Hands shift through several signs before murmuring, “...bōei no kabe…!”

With a thrum of chakra, the seals ignite, glowing a bright red as the energy begins to gather and feed into the jutsu. In a perfect mold of the room, her clan’s signature white chakra forms a half-translucent barrier, like mist trapped to walls. Lifting a hand, she presses it to the shield, finding it firm. “...there.”

“...ready to start?” Kakashi murmurs.

“...yes.”

Oh hey, look what's getting more chapters! As if I don't have enough WIPs to be working on xD We've got more zombito! I have one more chapter written thus far, I need to proofread before I can post, but uh...yeah! This one will now be multichap as well. No idea how far we'll take it, since this is partly based on RP, partly based on ooc plotting. But for now...here's a little more! Thanks for reading!

#abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #suigin ryū #hatake kakashi #blood //#vomit //#when dead walk [ au ]

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kickassfu · 7 years ago

Text

The Cursed Treasure

This was my contribution to klaroline winter wonderland for the wonderful @honestgrins I’m really happy you liked it ^^ I have to thank @garglyswoof for all of her incredible help on what stuff was missing and what fit or not, @gooddame for helping me out how to end the story and giving me ideas, and @austennerdita2533 for being excited with me lol Couldn’t have done it without u guys!

On AO3 and FF.

The Cursed Treasure

It almost seemed like a choreographed dance, with their feet light and fast, and their swords clashing. A duck here, a feint there, round and round they went, neither of them winning the fight. It mattered not that the ship was being blown all around them, or that the blood of their dying companions seeped into the wood as they kept their focus on each other. She wasn’t about to die over a moment of distraction, and apparently he was even more cold-blooded than she - not a speck of worry etched into his features, but a touch of delight and madness shone through his blue tempest eyes. Somehow in the midst of death and fire, he seemed to be having fun, and if she were to be completely honest, so was she.

“Caroline, the ship is sinking, we need to leave.” her first mate yelled as she stabbed a soldier in the chest, but as much as Caroline would like to leave this hellish wreck, she wasn’t about to turn her back towards him , it would mean instant death.

“Caroline is it? How delightful.” he said, never stopping his attack.

“Captain Caroline Forbes, pleasure to make your acquaintance. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d rather leave the epilogue to this story for another time.” she answered, parrying his sword with style, and smiling all the while.

Taking a step forward, he parried her strikes until her back was against a wall; their faces so close their lips almost touched, he whispered “I’m not very much into leaving things to chance I’m afraid, so I don’t think I’m letting you go so easily. I quite enjoy you love.”

“I apologize, but I don’t feel the same,” she shrugged and headbutted him hard enough he stumbled back, without giving him a chance to get his bearings, a pirate from behind him hit his head with the hilt of his sword knocking him out.

“So being the pirate I am you’ll have to forgive me for not playing fair. Bye, random soldier, you were slightly entertaining.” Caroline said unapologetically, and as she walked away from the sinking ship she blew him a kiss.

XXX

- 3 Years Later -

The bar was full; yelling and cursing abound, pirates and less respectable folk hanged around making their messes and getting drunk - the usual merrymaking with the casual fist fight, after all their blood ran hot and their brains slow. Caroline sat in the corner, drinking peacefully and not minding the usual ruckus - completely alone with her thoughts - although her crew was never too far from her. Some of them were scattered throughout the place always keeping an eye on her - lest she make trouble and the wrong person ended up dead or worse .

Pirating had been her life since she was but a child, thriving in it, loving it. A deadbeat man who happened to be a semi-famous pirate didn’t make for much of a father, but in turn she got a big family - yes, they were pirates, rough and mean, but they loved her as if she was theirs and took care of her when her parents didn’t. It was no wonder she followed their lead, gained as much knowledge as she could and went her own way; some of them sticking with her when she put together her crew, some stayed with her father, and others she had met along the way, becoming as important to her, as any other crewmember. So of course, everyone was protective of their Captain, mostly because she was the one that kept them all together, and for most, their savior and family. They would lay down their lives for her faster than the rum runs out on a pirate’s ship, because they had no doubt she’d do the same for all of them.

So when a man approached her, they all took notice and were ready to jump in, if necessary , but he didn’t seem to care about how they stared at him, and Caroline almost smiled at his carelessness. Not even looking up, she took another sip of rum and ignored him.

“This is a rather glum welcome for someone you almost killed, I think I deserve something a bit more exciting, wouldn’t you say love?”

That voice - she knew that voice - it stuck with her for some unknown reason. The way it coiled around someone’s heart in its fake innocence, and squeezed it until it stopped, was something unforgettable. No matter how brief their encounter had been, she had never managed to shake him off, “I kill a fair amount of people.”

“I bet you do, but it seems you failed to do the same to me.”

Looking up she rolled her eyes, “I wasn’t trying to kill you, if I was I would have stabbed you, but I didn’t . At most, you can say I left you to die.”

“Ah yes, how truly kind of you.”

“The point is moot, you’re alive and well, aren’t you? If you came for a rematch, sorry to say I’m not in the mood.”

“Not at all, I just came to pay a visit. I couldn’t forget you, and now that I’m going to spend more time in your waters, and hopefully will run into you more often, I just thought I needed to pay my respects.” smirking, he winks and mockingly bows, “Goodbye love.”

“Captain Caroline Forbes!” she insists; Caroline wasn’t a fan of the pet names, and she deserved recognition for who she was, and what she had accomplished.

“I would think you’d rather be called Captain Caroline Sparrow , but I guess I was wrong. Not a fan of your dad I suppose, guess we have that in common.”

“Who are you ?”

“I’m Klaus, just a lowly pirate.” he said, walking away, and leaving her in utter confusion.

A navy man turned pirate, and someone that knew who she truly was? Klaus was proving to be more dangerous than she had anticipated, and she was slightly intrigued. Whether he was friend or foe, Caroline would figure out eventually, and if she was being honest she was looking forward to meeting him again. Klaus , a lowly pirate he was definitely not. No worries, they’d meet again.

XXX

“Are you sure this is the right Island?”

After weeks of sailing they had reached their destination. The voyage had been rough; the winds had been against them, the storms almost never ceasing to torment them, and the sea as always, the fickle lover, that gave and took at its whim. It was an enormous Island, - apparently deserted, but you never knew - the trees seemed to engulf the whole island, the sight was slightly terrifying and in part mesmerizing, although the energy surrounding it was ominous and strange. She was sure .

“Yes Bonnie, I’m sure. Believe it or not I can read a treasure map.”, it was a bit old and fragile, but still readable, and Caroline would never make such a rookie mistake.

“It’s not the treasure map I have issues with, it’s that old compass you stole from your dad; it doesn’t even work properly.”

Feeling a little attacked, by how she clung to sentimental things - even if they were pretty useless - Caroline tried to stop that topic of conversation, “You worry too much, you’re a pirate now, live a little .”

“Says the person that likes planning everything perfectly, and gets mad when something’s out of place.”

“I am...flexible.” as Bonnie stared holes into her soul, Caroline gave in, “Fine, I’m just emotionally attached to this compass, and even if it drives me crazy sometimes, I can still work with it.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Bonnie smiled, shrugging at her little confession; after all she knew Caroline better than anyone else, and would always be there to make her see reason when emotions blinded her, and to let her be emotional when she closed herself off. It had been a lonely life, before Caroline had found her, and Bonnie wouldn’t trade the freedom of pirating for anything else.

Rolling her eyes, Caroline changed her attention to all of her crewmates, “Gentlemen, ladies, and all in between, we have reached our destination. This treasure shall be ours for the taking.”

“What about the curse? ”

“Enzo, since when do you care? Besides, every treasure is cursed, precisely because no one wants it stolen.” Caroline answered, not in the mood for superstitions.

“Come on Captain, you’ve seen things, you’ve heard stories, from all those years spent on that ship.”

“Even if that were true, for the one treasure that is actually cursed, there are thousands that are not. So we will be going , you can stay and take care of the ship if it pleases you.”

“As if I’d ever let my dear Captain go to dangerous places without me, who will have your back if not me?” Enzo winked at her, he’d follow her to the end of the Earth if he had to. If not for her, he wouldn’t be alive after all.

“Bonnie, or really anyone else, although I can take care of myself too.” Caroline joked.

“Now you’re breaking my heart.”

“You’ll get over it. Pirates, prepare the boats, we’ll be departing soon.”

XXX

As soon as her feet hit the sand, Caroline felt something was off , and drew her sword instinctively. Her crew, as always, following her lead with no questioning. She went forward carefully, not knowing what could pop up, but feeling certain that something would.

What she wasn’t expecting to see was Klaus - and a few other people she couldn’t recognize as quickly - run away from the forest and towards them, with seemingly no intent to battle them. Everyone seemed afraid of something , but not Klaus, he looked intrigued, almost delighted with the situation. Caroline wasn’t sure what they were running away from, but she wondered if Klaus had a death wish, always finding comfort in the midst of horribly dangerous situations. Not that she couldn’t relate sometimes - to emerge victor when the odds were against you, was an indescribable high.

The sight that followed was something completely unexpected, and for some reason - maybe the absurdity of it all - made Caroline laugh. Skeletons, walking - well, running - skeletons were chasing them, and very effectively killing the slower ones. Her crew stared at her in disbelief and she stopped laughing, grounding her feet and ready to destroy those measly bones.

“Hack away at them, until all their joints are disconnected and they can no longer move. And if that doesn’t work, burn them. If that doesn’t work, well...we’ll go from there, if it comes to that.”

“I was right after all Captain, the treasure is cursed.” even Enzo was surprised by the validity of his concerns.

“If the only curse is the treasure being guarded by bones, we’re in luck, because I am not giving up my bounty for something as silly as this.”

“Aye aye Captain.” they all screamed in unison.

Klaus’ eyes and hers met, and he smiled, knowing that somehow she had his back, and if not, she was welcome to try and stab it. Turning around, he started fighting those monsters once again, only one other person staying behind with him, while the rest of those fools ran away.

“This is the last time I listen to you, I told you this treasure was not to be messed with. I warned you. I even showed you a million better things to steal or do, but no, you have to go where you might be killed. Nik, you’re an idiot.”

“Says my reckless little brother. You still came.”

“I thought if you should die, it must be by my hands.” Kol said ducking, swinging so hard the skull of the thing went flying off.

“Thank you, that’s comforting at least.” Klaus grunted, trying to push off two skeletons from him at the same time.

Cutting an arm off, Kol pivoted out of another monster’s way, taking both of its legs off and then its head. By now he was huffing and puffing, tired of this dance he needed more excitement, something interesting to talk about, “This wasn’t just about the treasure, it was about a girl as well, wasn’t it? The blonde tasty little thing you were staring at? You knew she would be here, and wanted to take her treasure, taunt her, and eventually bed her. Not sure you understand how courtship works, but doing that would probably get you a slap, not sex.”

“Watch your tongue, before I remove it.”, Klaus had been growing more irritable with each word out of Kol’s mouth, and imagined it was his face on the skeleton he was currently skewering and smashing to pieces.

“I’d like to see you try.” Kol taunted, the exhaustion almost ebbing away compared to how much fun it was teasing his older brother.

From the corner of his eyes he could see Caroline swing her sword with incredible accuracy, taking down monster after monster, as if she was almost dancing to the sound of the wind. For a second he got distracted by the vision that was her, and got nicked by the rusty sword of one of the skeletons attacking him, not even flinching he kicked the thing back as hard as he could, and kept fighting. Knowing now wasn’t the time to have his attention stolen by the enigmatic pirate, that consumed his every thought.

XXX

Everyone was exhausted, but things had seemingly calmed down; the monsters seemed to be gone for good - but Caroline was not about to let down her guard, not just yet. It had been surprisingly easy to fight off, and she didn’t trust any of it. Suddenly, all her fears came true; people started falling down, for no apparent reason. She had to be strong, to not show any weakness, she was their Captain after all. It wasn’t easy though, seeing her crew, her family, on the sand groaning in pain. Bending down, Caroline checked Enzo’s forehead, it was deathly hot, once again having to swallow her fear, she then checked for any injuries and lo and behold, a scratch on his neck pulsing black.

“How bad is it?” seeing the look on Caroline’s face Enzo continued, trying to lighten the mood, “Is my face still pretty?”

“Was it ever?” she joked along, smiling in relief. Looking around, she saw Bonnie taking care of everyone she could get to, giving instructions to anyone still standing; getting up she gave two soft slaps on Enzo’s face, “I’ll be back, don’t move.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Bonnie was special , there was a little bit of witch in her and if there was ever any problem, Caroline trusted no one better to figure something out. Pulling her away from everyone, Caroline said, faking optimism “I’m here for some good news.”

“Turn around and come back later, I don’t have any for you.”

“Bonnie.”

“It might be poison, it might be mystical, it’s probably a bit of both, and I need time to figure things out.”

“I don’t think they have much, and I’m not losing anyone. Tell me what to do, and I will get it done.”

“We need to leave. If this is supernatural, it will probably be purged from their body when they get far away enough, and I’ll figure a way to deal with the poison. We shouldn’t stay here any longer.”

“People have died, I am not leaving without that treasure. Grab everyone, put them in the ship and I’ll be back shortly. If I’m not here in half an hour, leave.”

“You’re the Captain, we’re not going to leave you stranded here. You have to come with us.”

“I’m the Captain, and I’m ordering you to follow my orders. Do it, Bonnie.” Caroline said, but couldn’t help but whisper her true feelings, “Please .”

“Fine, if you’re not back in time, you’ll swim back even if it kills you.”

“Sounds about right.”

Hugging her Captain, her friend and family, Bonnie whispered, “ Come back. ”

“I will . Go.”

Readying herself, she took one last look at her crew, and walked into the forest of death. They needed this gold, and by the Gods, Caroline would get it. Curse or no curse, her blood was too strong to die here.

XXX

“I’m not leaving without the treasure.”

“Nik, are you daft? We need to leave, you’re hurt and I’m not carrying your arse out of here.”

“I’m fine, I’m not on the ground am I? I’m going.”

“Well then I’m…” Kol’s eyes caught sight of the most intriguing woman, and his basest desires won out, “sadly, not going with you. It seems my help is needed elsewhere. Good luck brother.”

He felt for the poor soul who had to deal with his brother, but at least it wasn’t his problem anymore. Looking around Klaus saw Caroline leave, and followed her. Maybe he’d leave this cursed island not with one treasure, but two.

Jogging to her side he teased her, “Why would you leave without me love? Thinking of stealing that pesky little treasure for yourself?”

“If it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead by now, some appreciation would be nice. The bounty is mine, and I’ll kill you before you get close to it.” her smile was cold, and razor sharp.

“I just thought it dangerous, you walking around all by yourself, what if more skeletons appear, or god forbid, something infinitely more nefarious.”

“Something like you?”

“I wouldn’t ever dream of hurting you.” Klaus said honestly, and the truth behind his words stunned even him.

“As if I could ever trust you.”, Caroline was a pirate, trusting people came sparingly and with difficulty and Klaus used to be from the navy - her enemy .

“I happen to be a very trustworthy chap, ask anyone.”

“You must think me dumb, but that pretty face of yours won’t fool me.”

“You think I’m pretty?” flirting, he stood in front of her face, - his fingers lifting her chin - inches away from her open lips.

Slapping away his hand, she kept walking, “I think you’re dangerous.”

“Dangerously pretty?” he was fairly certain, that out of the two, Caroline was infinitely more dangerous to him than he could ever be to her, but he still felt the pull to her side and the truth of the matter was that he always was partial to a little bit of danger.

“I would rather be attacked by a dozen monsters than deal with you. You’re exhausting. ”

“Then why are you smiling?”

Caroline hadn’t even noticed she was smiling, “I wasn’t, you’re delirious.” after looking up at him she saw how pale he looked, sweat dripping from his forehead in an unnatural way, “Actually, you do appear quite sickly.”

“I’m fine, we have gold to find, let’s move quicker.” it was his turn to try and change the subject, but he doubted she’d let it go.

“Wait a second.” she grabbed his hand - it was hot, and sweating - and pulled him towards her, reaching up to feel his face, “ You were hurt too .”

“You’re imagining things, sweetheart.”

“I bet I could kill you right now, without breaking a sweat.”

“Is that so? Want to bet?”

Rolling her eyes, she kept walking, “Stop distracting me, I don’t have time to deal with you. If you fall down, I’m not dragging you back with me.”

How could she be worried about someone she hardly knew, someone that could be quite irritating and more than a bit dangerous. It didn’t matter, she would keep an eye on him; just her luck having to take care of someone else when she was tight for time.

They walked in silence for a while, until she spoke up again, “Did you manage reach this far?”

“Now you have time for me again? I’m honored.”

“Ugh, fine.” he sounded like a child sulking, and Caroline was not in the mood to deal with anyone’s tantrum.

“No, we were pretty much attacked as soon as we walked into the forest.” he answered truthfully, his words falling on deaf ears as she was so concentrated on her ancient little treasure map.

“There it is.” Caroline said excitedly, her map never once betraying her expectations. It was a waterfall, behind it there was supposed to be a hidden cave, and then X marked the spot. Going in, both of them got drenched, there were several chests, and for one second she got reckless, and walked forward with her guard down. The ground buckled under her, and suddenly she was falling into a pit full of spikes, until a hand grabbed her arm.

“Careful there, don’t go dying on me before our re-match.”

“You saved me.” she couldn’t believe it; not that he had saved her, but that she wasn’t as surprised as she should be. In the depths of her being, Caroline thought Klaus’ words carried weight and honesty - that he’d never betray her, and that made him even more fatal.

“You sound surprised.” he said strained; his fever had been going up and his strength down since they had begun their little adventure, and only with his willpower he pulled her back out.

Caroline lied, “I still don’t trust you.”

Klaus laughed, of course, even after all this, she - a pirate - didn’t trust him . “How are you going to take all these trunks with you? The most I can take right now, is a few coins.”

“I’ll take what I can, as long as I don’t go back empty handed, I’m fine with it.”

Opening up the chests, - carefully - she filled her pockets as much as she could, and filled her sack as much as she could carry; it was heavy, but she could handle it. Klaus on the other hand, couldn’t carry as much, but still took a pretty good haul. Caroline should be thinking that he’d still find a way to double cross her, and steal her bounty, but she couldn’t even fathom it anymore. She was in trouble.

XXX

He was basically dragging himself along, trying to look strong and failing miserably, trying to keep up with her. Suddenly, Klaus dropped to the floor, and Caroline stopped in her tracks, “Get up Klaus, I told you I’d leave you to die. You’re not doing this.”

He was completely unresponsive, and she considered it, she really did - she was a damn pirate, for Gods’ sake - but she couldn’t go through with it. Dropping her very lovely sack full of gold, - she cried a little - and put his arm around her neck, dragging him along with her.

“I will kill you after this, I promise.”

Caroline reached the beach, and they weren’t there. She had taken too long, and now Klaus would probably die. Throwing him on the sand, she sat next to him. She knew he had to have a ship, but he wasn’t awake, and he obviously didn’t have enough time for her to go look for it, and his cowardly friends might have stolen it anyway, so what was even the point?

Waking up, his insides felt like they were on fire, his head as if it was splitting apart, and he thought this really might be the way that he died - how bland . Still, he noticed Caroline by his side, that she hadn’t left him behind after all and smiled, and that surprised him - she did have a soft spot for him after all.

“Sparrow, I have a dying wish.”

“To die by my hand instead? Because if you call me that again, that’s what will happen.”, she half joked; he was still alive, and all of sudden she didn’t mind him calling her that name, it was inconsequential.

“Being killed by you doesn’t sound all that bad. But no, just one kiss from the most beautiful and fascinating woman, I have ever met.”

“She sounds delightful, I’d love to meet her.”

“Caroline, we both know you’re not against it, so stop pretending. I’m dying anyway, it won’t hurt you.”

She felt for him, and she knew kissing him would hurt her for a multitude of reasons, but she couldn’t let him die without ever tasting his wicked lips, and so she granted his wish. Caressing his fevered face, her lips touched his dry ones; it was soft and kind, as if sending him off to the next world with tender love, and not consuming passion.

She regretted it, as soon as someone cleaned their throats behind them.

“I told her not to interrupt, Nik. That you would rather die in the arms of your lovely angel of destruction, than to be rescued, but I couldn’t stop her.”

“You didn’t think I’d actually leave you behind.”

“Bonnie!” Caroline basically ran into her arms, and hugged her.

“Still in pain over here.” Klaus said; his head hurt even more, now that Caroline had basically let it fall helplessly against the rough sand.

“I’ll help.” Kol said tiredly, picking his brother up.

XXX

- A Few Days Later -

“Are you feeling better now?” Caroline asked, feeling his forehead - it was colder now but still warm.

“I’d feel better if you k-”

“Well, I need to go check on my crew, so you have fun.”

Grabbing her hand before she could leave, Klaus laughed, “I’m just kidding love, we have time for that later.”

“I think you’re still delirious.” she commented, sitting back down on the bed, next to his lying body.

“You enjoyed that kiss as much as I did, Sparrow.”

“That only happened because you were dying.”

“Then I will just have to do that, again, and again, and again, until you can be honest with both of us.” he shrugged unconcerned, near death wasn't as terrifying as not being able to be by her side and bask in her light.

“Good luck with that.” Caroline laughed, wondering if his words rang true, and anticipating his future actions.

Their hands were still linked, and he kissed the back of hers tenderly, “We have time, and we both know you value my life more than you do gold, and you’re a pirate.”

If he was offering, she had no reason to refuse. He was right, she had chosen him; his life had more weight in her heart than the gold she needed, and so returning the favor she kissed his knuckles, “Then from now on your life is mine.”

“It has been since the day you almost killed me.”

#klaroline #klaroline drabble #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline winter wonderland #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #kc #kc fic #kc drabble #mine #my ficlet #my ficlets #honestgrins

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yeonchi · 5 years ago

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Doctor Who Series 12 Review Part 1/10: Spyfall Part One

Air date: 1 January 2020

Bond. We’re going James Bond.

Series 12 started off with the first of a two-part episode with spies and guest stars alike. This is the first two-parter I’ve encountered during the course of these reviews, so there will be things that don’t make sense for the time being that will hopefully be answered in the next episode.

This is my spoiler-free thought for this episode: “It has to be something else.”

As usual, spoilers are coming after the break. This time around, I want to make this clear - please make sure you’ve watched the whole episode before you continue reading.

Bad (Aussie) airtimes

Before I go into the episode proper, I want to vent a little bit about air times and how the move to Sundays have spoiled a few aspects of it. As you may know, I’m Australian and as such, we are about half a day ahead of the UK. Viewers in the US will be able to watch it on (practically) the same day on BBC America because they’re hours behind the UK, while for us, we have to wait to the next day.

In 2018 for Series 11, episodes were broadcast on ABC at 6 PM on Mondays, which is the day after broadcast in the UK. However, with the first episode being broadcast on a Wednesday in the UK, it will be broadcast on the ABC on Thursday at 7:30. Here’s the real kicker; where subsequent episodes would be broadcast on Sundays in the UK, the ABC will be broadcasting the second episode next Thursday, but at 8:00. I don’t have anything else further than that, so I’m presuming that it will be the case for the time being unless I see otherwise.

Until the end of Series 10, episodes would be broadcast on the ABC at 7:30 on Sundays, but with the UK premiere being moved to Sundays, I can see that the ABC is having some difficulty finding a good time for it. This week, that is, for the week of 29 December, Grand Designs Australia is being repeated in the 6 PM weeknight timeslot, while for the week for 5 January, which is next week, there are two shows in that same timeslot, namely the ABC Evening News and Summer Drum, the former of which is also broadcast on the ABC News channel and keeping in mind that the usual ABC state bulletins are at 7 PM.

I’m not really complaining about this per se, but you can see where I’m coming from and why that time might be inconvenient for some people when the school year starts at the end of January to the start of February. Even if I had something to complain about in regards to this, my whole argument is rendered moot thanks to the popularity of streaming and catchup services over the past decade. The episodes are on ABC iView by 7 AM the next day, essentially right after the UK broadcast, but even if delays or time zones screw us over, we’ll somehow find ways to watch the episodes eventually.

Defying all expectations

The initial enemy in the episode is something called the Kasaavin (according to the credits), who are apparently monsters not from this universe that come out of walls, can hack technology and even walk into a closed TARDIS. It feels like when you’re prepared for everything you already know about, you’re not prepared for anything you don’t know unless it’s too late. This is a trope that’s been repeated many times and yet it still keeps me interested.

Daniel Barton is shown to be affiliated with these monsters, but to what extent (and how he only has 93% human DNA) is unknown at this point. We also see them attacking spies across the world (because they were investigating Barton), but how their DNA was jumbled up we have no information for yet.

O, the elephant in the room

Hopefully everything up to this point was enough for you to confirm that you’ve watched the episode. Anyway, I’m just going to come out and say it - I refuse to believe that Sacha Dhawan is the Master.

Sacha Dhawan was initially rumoured to be playing another incarnation of the Master. Rumours also state that John Simm could be returning because some Vote Saxon posters were spotted in Cardiff back in April.

The only way I can believe that Sacha Dhawan is the Master is if that incarnation is between Saxon and Missy or even before that. There is no confirmation of this as yet, but if so, that could explain the character discrepancy in regards to Missy turning good. In my personal project, I used the gap between Saxon and Missy to implement two additional incarnations. I initially thought it didn’t make sense because they weren’t linear to the Doctor’s timeline, but then I remembered the Series 10 finale two-parter. Saxon’s incarnation came from after the Tenth Doctor’s time and met the Twelfth Doctor and Missy near the end of their lives. He then became Missy and confronted the Twelfth Doctor since the start of his life.

When we (apparently) last saw the Master, the Saxon incarnation shot Missy with a full blast of his modified laser screwdriver, which apparently prevented her regeneration. If Missy regenerated into the O incarnation now, it wouldn’t make sense because of this. Maybe Saxon lied and he didn’t actually give Missy the full blast, but then the question lies as to how Missy’s next incarnation would manage to leave the Mondasian ship with no TARDIS of their own.

There’s also the problem of the Tissue Compression Eliminator, which he used to shrink the original O on his first day at MI6. The last time the Master was seen using it on screen was in the classic series episode The Ultimate Foe. During his Saxon incarnation, he used a laser screwdriver while Missy used a multi-purpose device and later a sonic umbrella.

In all honesty, either the Master shouldn’t have been killed off (by Moffat) or should have stayed dead, given that his story ended in The Doctor Falls. You know what would have been a better choice to bring back if we’re looking for old enemies of the Doctor? The Rani. Nothing has been mentioned of her in the revived Doctor Who, plus if the Doctor and the Master regenerated into female incarnations, there’s no reason why the Rani can’t regenerate into a male incarnation. But could the Rani behave more like the Master, though, given that she is an evil scientist?

Look, these are just my initial thoughts on this. We’ll hopefully get more context next episode.

Other general thoughts

After the series premiere was announced, Stephen Fry and Sir Lenny Henry were revealed to be guest stars in this episode. I haven’t really followed them, particularly the latter, in other works, however I felt that they were pretty good, and so was Sacha Dhawan, who had previously played Waris Hussein in the docudrama An Adventure in Space and Time.

This time around, I feel like we’ve gone back to what Doctor Who was before the end of Series 10, in terms of tone, themes and writing. I wasn’t able to find any tokusatsu parallels or references, nor was I able to find any SJW red flags. If the problem of racial representation still exists, then I think that has been solved (at least in this episode) by the performance of Lenny Henry and Sacha Dhawan. Keep in mind that this is only the first part, though.

At the start of the episode, I thought I was seeing Ryan’s dyspraxia in action when he missed the ring, but then he goes on to state other things that I realised were excuses for his travel with the Doctor. It’s good that they haven’t forgotten about it, at least, but this also serves as a reminder that the Doctor’s companions have their own lives to live as well and that for many of them, her adventures take them away from it. In this series, the only exception to that rule seems to be Graham; he’s retired and following Grace’s death, has no other known family with the exception of Ryan. Clara during Series 7 also comes to mind; unlike other companions who seemingly travel with the Doctor full-time, she is only able to go on adventures on Wednesdays. During Series 8, we see her having to juggle her life as a teacher with her life as the Doctor’s companion.

The text for the locations looks better than they did on Resolution. That giant Impact font was really jarring, eh?

According to C (Stephen Fry), MI6 does not accept the possibility of alien life. However, according to the Doctor Who Wiki, they have had quite a bit of involvement, particularly in the comics, where they formed a division known as Wonderland to combat alien threats.

UNIT and Torchwood were also mentioned in this episode as organisations that MI6 leave alien work to, but the Doctor mentions that they are now gone. Man, they’re really trying to distance themselves from the Davies and Moffat eras, aren’t they? I can buy the Doctor thinking that Torchwood is gone given events that happened in their series, though their audio adventures are still ongoing.

The TARDIS console room has also been redesigned a little for this series. There are more round things on the columns, plus there is a second crystal pointing down to the central column.

Summary and verdict

The Chibnall era is essentially a clean slate for Doctor Who, with UNIT and Torchwood being out of the picture. Series 11 was apparently an experimental series going back to the historically educational nature of the First Doctor’s era, but in Series 12, the returning enemies and monsters (that started with Resolution) are signs that signify the series returning to the tone and pace it did during the revived series.

Like I said, I’m still not sure about the Master, but my feelings may change by the next episode. It’s not even confirmed yet whether O really is the Master at all, so there’s something to find out when we get there.

This essentially acts as a New Year’s Special for 2020. The rest of the series will continue on Sundays.

The next episode seems to be a historical episode as according to Cultbox, a part of it will take place in 1943 Paris. We will also be seeing three historical figures, namely Noor Inyat Khan, Charles Babbage and Ada Lovelace.

Rating: 8/10

The story continues on Sunday (or Monday) as I review the second episode, Spyfall Part Two. Hopefully, all our questions will be answered then...

#doctor who #doctor who series 12 #thirteenth doctor #doctor who series 12 review #thirteenth doctor review

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 7 years ago

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Pajama Day

Bonjour, mes chers! I was feeling a little stir crazy so I decided to do some prompts and drabble ideas I’ve had in my head for the last while. To start with, here’s a little Avengers piece heavily inspired by this picture here! It happens in that magical time where the team is a good and proper family and there’s been no Civil War or anything else.

Hey, do you like my stuff and want to see more drabbles like this one? Considering pledging to my Patreon! You’ll get access to old stories taken down, get to vote on what stories I should do next, and even what story should be updated that week! You’ll also be able to request drabbles and have a much higher chance of getting them written!

Pajama Day - Avengers

It was very hard to ruin Clint Barton’s day- Well, no, actually, he took that back. It was easy to ruin Clint’s day - stupidly, ridiculous, horribly easy, in fact. What was hard to do was for anyone to actually prove that Clint’s day was ruined. Hey, he grew up in a circus, okay. One of the first things you learn is how to put a smile on for the masses. So, okay, sure, he might now be a super secret agent and an Avenger who ran around shooting people with a bow and arrow- Yeah, see, sounded silly. His background was good for that, though. Clint was good at being silly right until he buried an arrow into the eyeball of a drug lord, mafia boss, or secret supervillain who hadn’t been all that secret about things.

The fact of the matter was, Clint was good at pretending everything was fine and dandy and keeping a smile on his face as the jokes flew back and forth. He was good at that. The problem was - you see, the problem was - he was having a very hard time doing that when he was tied up with chains, rope, what looked to a few locks for good measure and his body covered in nothing but torn and dirty pajamas that were purple with little hawks all over them.

They were a gift, okay, it wasn’t his fault all his friends had as shit a sense of humor as he did. The fact of the matter was that he had been kidnapped during a battle with the week’s latest upcoming supervillain - some chick that had a thing for mind controlling birds - and Clint had been snatched off the battlefield by a genetically modified hawk the size of a fucking bus because- He didn’t know why. Irony? A hawk capturing Hawkeye? Yeah, that was about his day.

See, usually it took more than this to get Clint down. He was usually a pretty cheerful dude, after all. At least, he was until he had been woken up at three in the fucking morning by another attack on Avengers tower. An attack that was then revealed to be the alarms malfunctioning because Tony goddamn Stark had to have the habit of fiddling with wires he should not be touching at ass o’clock. So after that mess had been resolved, Clint had tried to crawl back into bed only to have it rudely shoved in his face that since they were all up and it was morning they might as well be productive! Clint hated Steve sometimes, really, he did. The guy was so darn likable but he was also the goddamn epitome of morning people. At least everyone else had suffered with him.

But, oh. That had barely even been the start of the mess. To make a long and painful story short, Clint’s entire wardrobe had been burned, he had been through medical three times, he had been chewed out by Natasha for forgetting some obscure holiday he couldn’t really remember right now because of his ongoing concussion, he had gotten into a sparring fight with the Iron Man suit and lost spectacularly, he had been a guinea pig for Bruce’s latest experiments, Phil had given him the disappointed look for something he couldn’t even remember, and the straw that finally broke the hawk’s back was the fact that Clint was tied up and kidnapped in fucking pajamas.

“It’s always such a shame to see a beautiful bird caged, but I figured for you that would be best. Perhaps it’ll change in the future, however.” Oh. Oh, he was in a cage, too. That just- That just made everything right and dandy, didn’t it?

“Look, lady, I get it, you have a bird kink. That’s fine. We all have our thing. Here’s the problem, though, I don’t have that kink. My name is Hawkeye literally because I have perfect aim. That’s it. That’s all. I don’t get down and dirty-” Clint could honestly say he had never been attacked by a hoard of hummingbirds before today. At least it would make a good story when this day was far, far behind him.

“Silence, insolent hatchling!” Oh, god, why did the supervillains all have to be utter wackjobs? Couldn’t they have a suave, nice supervillain that just wanted to take over the economy or something? Fuck the Avengers. “You would do well to watch yourself when in the presence of those greater than you.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Hey, do you happen to have any clothes not made of feathers or something?” The feathers were a bit much, but Clint was honestly considering settling if he had to. See, not everyone could suit up through lightening or technology or be Natasha. Some of them just had to be regular mortals.

“Bait so rarely needs to be alive. Do not test my patience.” That was another thing. These types of villains always spoke like they came straight from Shakespeare in the Park. What the hell was up with that? It was the modern fucking century, they didn’t need to be all Thor. Except they weren’t even that because at least Thor made it sound charming. “I have little doubt your precious Avengers will be here soon. When they do-”

“They’ll fall right into your trap and you’ll prove that you’re the most genius, evil, insane villain in all the world. Yeah, lady, I get it. Been there, done that, it’s getting old.” These people needed to be more original. Maybe SHIELD should send out some tutors to these idiots just to make the fight more interesting. That was a good idea. Clint would have to remember that one.

“Such blustering for such a weak thing.” Yeah, yep, that was him. Clint Barton. The only normal human on the team of gods, super soldiers, geniuses, and Natasha. Well, Rhodey and Sam were pretty normal, but then they piloted high-tech suits of armor, so really, it was a moot point- “Are you even listening, you fool!”

“Hm? Oh, no, can’t say I was. Hey, seriously, do you have anything? It’s starting to get a bit drafty in here.” See, here was the bad thing about cages and supervillains. They couldn't reach you themselves, but they usually had tricks to make sure you still suffered. This one seemed fond of unleashing flocks of birds on him. All things considered, if ravens could take a pretty large chunk of skin out of him, he’d hate to see what the vultures did. “Right. Sorry. You were saying you would defeat the greatest of superheros to exist since… Ever. How exactly are you going to do that?”

While the crazy bird chick went on with just how she was going to be defeating everyone, Clint traced his tongue over the roof of his mouth, hopefully activating the one way receiver that would let the others hear everything they were saying. He wouldn’t be able to really hear them since his hearing aides were gone between the hawk ride and the cage, but at least he could make do reading crazy lady’s lips. She was a very exaggerated person.

Right, where was he in his thoughts? Oh, yeah, his super shitty day and his inability to even take enjoyment out of riling up the craziest villain this week. There were so many potential puns and jokes he could make, but, no, really. He wanted this day to be over with- Ah.

The giant hawk had just crashed through the roof with a pleased looking Hulk sitting on top of it. Well, that was one way to make an entrance. Sighing, Clint set to work on breaking out of his bonds, having only a bit of trouble with them. Considering there were chains, you think they’d keep him in better. Must be this chick’s first time kidnapping someone. How sweet.

Feeling a touch on his shoulder as soon as he got the worst of it off, Clint tensed and was already moving to defend himself before he felt the back of his neck lightly squeezed, and, oh. Okay, that explained how someone snuck up on him. Feeling a familiar sensation of something being pressed into his ear, Clint blinked up at Phil as he was helped off the ground. “I’m not sure what’s more worrisome here, that you were kidnapped by a hawk or those pajamas.”

“Says the one who bought them for me,” Clint scoffed, adjusting the earpiece and glancing back at the fight. “Iron Man, did you just fly in with a swarm of parrots following you?” Clint wanted a picture of that. Right now.

“Screw you, Barton, at least I didn’t get kidnapped by a giant hawk in the middle of downtown!” Yep, Tony was as done with the day as he was. A kindred spirit, that one.

“Sorry, I was a bit busy making sure no one died.” Glancing back to see Phil was scanning him and his injuries, Clint felt a bit of tension released before he sighed. “There’s a few kidnapped people down in the basement and her lab is two floors down.

“I got the lab!” Of course Tony did. If Bruce was more himself at the moment, he probably would have gleefully followed after. Mad scientists, those two.

“I’ll get the civilians. Iron Man, save what you can of that lab or trace it back to find out who she really is. Black Widow, Thor, keep her busy and look for any kind of weakness, Hawkeye, see if you can’t help Hulk get rid of some of these goddamn birds. Coulson, let me know as soon as SHIELD arrives.”

“Language.” At least three people snapped out, Clint almost certain that Phil had been one of them. Judging by Steven’s frustrated silence, he knew each and every person who said it.

Kicking open the cage door with more force than was probably necessary, Clint headed to where he had seen his bow taken, grinning a little as he dodged all the chaos.

So, yeah, he could freely and happily admit that he hated the Avengers some days, but god did he love them like the family he always needed.

One of them couldn’t have brought him a change of clothes, though?

#avengers #avengers mcu #mcu #clint barton #hawkeye #my writing

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thegoldenavenger · 8 years ago

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fic bits roundup

vague ballet au

“you know, i dont think anyone has ever asked me that before” he says. the television is small and old but bucky can see the wistfulness even with the poor resolution.

“well, then,” the interviewer asks after a pause, “what did you want to be as a kid?”

his grin wobbles into something just a bit less confident and his voice gains this, this breathless quality and suddenly it’s twenty years earlier and bucky remembers one of steve’s friends staring at him, wide eyed, mouth just slightly open as bucky transitioned from one held position to the next.

“a dancer,”

steve had tugged on the man’s arm pulling him away, and bucky had only gotten an introduction far later. he’d been gangly and looked more like a teenager than the fortune 500 ceo he turned out to be and he always, always looked at the dancers in the studio the same way. there was far more to it, but bucky always suspected that the looking was half the reason steve never made a move.

“i mean, i used to prance around as a little boy but i stopped to focus on the family business, for the good of everyone involved; i was admittedly terrible”

bucky remembers steve’s friend, rewiring the shitty lighting on the catwalks, speaking around the tools stuffed in his mouth. his dad started pushing him towards the family business when he had been four. four. everyone was terrible at what they did when they were four.

zombie apocalypse au

Clint thinks he’s going to die when he meets Tony. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Barney, but give him a break. If you can’t trust family while the world burns around you, who can you trust? It turns out, not family. At least, not Barney. Clint finds himself running as fast as he can on a shit leg, beat up and bruised and out of ammunition because Barney has sold him down the river.

Lucky pants next to him. At least the dumb dog picked Clint.

That won’t mean much though, when Clint is dead because he can’t this pace up. Not with his leg like it is. And he is being chased. By zombies, of all things.

It’s looks bad. It is bad.

Clint’s leg finally gives out and he sprawls onto the pavement in what he’s sure is the least graceful manner possible. He can’t hear the hoard behind him, but he knows it’s there. Giddily, he feels lucky he won’t be able to hear them eating him; the batteries for his hearing aids have run down long, long ago.

There’s a moment where Clint feels like just giving up. Lie down, close his eyes. Maybe he’ll stay asleep while he’s getting chewed up. A guy can dream. But, and get this, Lucky sits down in front of him. Stupid dog doesn’t know what’s best for him, and he looks pleadingly at Clint. After a moment, Lucky lies down like he always does, waiting for Clint to finally get up to feed or walk him.

“Aw, dog.”

Clint gets up, for Lucky. The dumb dog would’ve just waited his turn once the zombies caught up.

He’s stumbling, limping along. At this pace, he’s still gonna get eaten it’ll just take longer. He calculates another couple of blocks before he’s over taken, so it surprises him when he’s grabbed bodily by the shoulder. He has a moment to brace himself, he takes that moment to regret not making it to Sword & Shield but otherwise he’s lived a great life. Nat will be mad but--

“Cooperation would be nice!”

Clint isn’t being mauled by a zombie. He’s being yanked deeper into the mouth of the alley.

“Come on, come on, shit tell your dog follow us!” The man is holding onto Clint’s hand, rough fingers clinging to his, pulling insistently towards a dead end alleyway. Clint figures he’s already doomed.

“The dog does what he wants most of the time, actually.”

The man, he turns and looks at Clint, really looks at him. His eyes are wild, wide and brown, ringed with purple sleep circles. His hair is greasy and floppy, his beard rough with days of unkempt scruff.

“Just call him past this line, don’t want him to get caught in the show.”

“Show?”

“You good with that leg of yours? I can’t carry you and the dog up the ladder.” Clint looks up at the alley walls, and besides the standard gutter and water pipes, they look bare. The man is rummaging around in a bag, and Clint suddenly realizes he’s trapped in a dead end alley with someone he doesn’t know, a horde of zombies on his tail and his dog. The man is muttering vaguely under his breath, and Clint is just about to make the decision to chance the zombies again. The choice is made moot rather quick though, as the shuffling horde passes by the mouth to the alley at that moment.

Clint holds his breath instinctively, quieting like he’s sighting down targets. The first few zombies pass the alley and Clint almost allows himself to hope the rest might follow when, like a switch, the horde twists on itself, decaying bodies trying to scramble past each other to squeeze into the alleyway. Clint whips around to, to not get away but at least delay death the four more yards into the end of the alley. Instead he stares at the man fighting, of all things, with Lucky. Lucky’s got his mouth around a paper towel wrapped bundle and the man is trying to pull it back.

“What are you-- this isn’t the time for tug of war, we’re going to die!” Clint yells, backing away from the approaching horde.

“What?” the man glances up past Clint, like he’d forgotten the zombies altogether, his eyes widening just a bit, “Oh, them. Right.” He lets the bundle go, which Lucky, opportunistic ass that he is, scarfs down.

“Get back here,” The man orders, waving Clint over while kicking at a cluster of boxes and a garbage can. Clint can’t hear it, but he can’t imagine it helps them hiding.

“What are you doing? What are we doing? Shit, shit,” Clint hisses, but the man seems to take no notice, just pulls back for another kick.

This time the garbage can topples sideways, the boxes get shoved aside and with a whoosh of motion that must be triggered by some kind of weighted pulley system, something like a fire escape unfolds down the side of the building.

“What the--”

“Come on, then,” The man says, already climbing up, “Hand me the dog then yourself, hurry up or you’ll get splattered. Uh, probably.” Clint can’t hear him but it looks like he mutters hopefully under his breath.

Clint must take a second too long just staring because the man makes an insistent here here gesture with his hand, and Clint says fuck it, and grabs Lucky.

He manages to heft the dog up, the man grabs him by the scruff at first, which is. Alarming. But they don’t have much options besides that, and then pulls himself up after. The man grabs his shirt when they’re close enough, and helps to haul him up.

Clint collapses on he metal landing, but even this is only temporary safety. Zombies aren’t smart but Clint’s pretty sure they can figure out ladders. Or just, pile themselves onto each other.

He’s gasping hard, his leg strained and his body hurt, when the man grabs his shoulder again. Clint glares up at him, but the man isn’t even looking. He’s staring at the zombies and Clint turns his head to see what’s captured his gaze. The horde approaches and Clint guesses the man is just held captive by their impending death.

He gets a tap on his shoulder and he looks back towards the man who signs--signs?-- “watch this,” and then presses a button on what looks like a phone? Clint still can’t hear anything, but he feels a buzzing and when he turns the scene he sees isn’t pretty, but he can’t take his eyes off for awhile.

Some kind of grid has lit of the alley, suspended like a net from wall to wall. The zombies stumble head first into it, and the moment their decomposing flesh hits the light they just topple over, sliced into burning, grid sized pieces.

It takes probably five minutes for the horde--now that Clint isn’t running for his life and can count them, it’s more like a group of six or eight (it’s hard to separate the cubes)--to be diced and sliced by whatever scifi laser grid the man next to him activated with his phone. He looks at the man, who is a bit paler than before, clammy and sweat damp, after the chunks settled into a gross pile.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My name’s Tony,” The man says, while his hands sign in pretty okay ASL, “Is coffee okay for dogs to eat? Because I’m not so sure and yours just finished the last of my mix.”

Lucky throws the coffee back up later, but otherwise is just fine. Way more fine that he’d have been if Tony hadn’t decided to help them out. Clint promises to replace the bag when he can. Tony’s face gets an out of place expression, wide-eyed and longing, for just a second before he shuts his mouth like catfish getting noodled. But he doesn’t tell Clint not to bother, and when Clint points to the block where Sword & Shield is located and says that’s where he’s headed, Tony just shrugs and shoulders his pack.

Clint’s already got one partner he needs to find--two, but he and kate had a plan and that girl is too smart to throw everything away trying to meet up with him--three, but barney’s sold him out and Clint knows, should know, when to cut his losses--but Tony can liquify zombies with just a little bit of prep time, and he’s handy with a wrench. Besides, Lucky has taken to following Tony around licking at his hand like he’s got scraps.

Clint just doesn’t want to find out who Lucky would follow if they decided to split ways.

plausibly post civil war My Favorite Scenario

in which team capsicle (that’s, steve, wanda, scott, clint, sam, bucky) somehow plot-conveniently get inserted into Tony’s mind.

they wake up separately in piles of glittering garbage. looking closer, they can see it’s just mounds of old missile casings, guns, magazines, bullets, shells, the guts of several iron man armors, computer chips and mother boards all piled high around them.

they’re confused, but establish contact with each other (by yelling) and try to regroup. no body really knows what’s happened or where they are. they try to debrief, clint climbs up a giant pile of shit to get a better vantage point. bucky investigates some of the loose weaponry.

“this is stark tech,” he mumbles under his breath

then clint yells “somethings coming!” and distantly, the group can hear loud, rumbling mechanical noises. Grinding, shrieking, servos thrumming. They all climb up to where clint is, sees in the distance a giant shape in the distance lumbering closer.

“what is that?” sam asks to murmurs. no one really knows.

They wait, tensely for it, as the lumbering monstrosity edges closer. it moans, they realize, as it gets closer. it’s moaning, wailing almost, and then screams as it lashes out at the piles of munitions. Debris flies every where, enough that they can see the metal and wires flying even at the distance they’re at.

It continues on, moving in a different direction, passing them on. It keeps far enough away they can’t see a clear picture of it.

they decide, unanimously, to head in a direction opposite. Staying still is too close to the creature for comfort.

they walk in a heavy silence until the mounds start leveling out and rising quickly in the distance before them is a mansion.

Without having to speak, they approach the building. The lighting is dim but the house casts a shadow, and once they step in it, the temperature drops immediately. it feels like walking through molasses.

“i feel like, maybe we shouldn’t be going towards the creepy mansion house that feels like doom,” scott says

everyone agrees but what other choice do they have? it’s the house or the monster, and this way they might get some information.

#kamaeteWRITES #i still want to work on these but....#into the aether they go #untagged and untamed

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awed-frog · 8 years ago

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On the subject of dying, do you think Mary is going to die by the end of this season?

Well - real life aside, it depends on Mary’s narrative arc, and the problem is, I’m not sure we even know what’s going on with that? At least, it’s not clear to me.

In the beginning, Mary used to be unsettled and how of place, so my gut reaction was, Okay, she’s getting the ‘wronged ghost’ arc - I assumed she didn’t want to stay on Earth, or that she wouldn’t be allowed to stay on Earth, but since there was still something tethering her here, she wasn’t ready to let go. As to what that something was - getting to know her kids, perhaps? Protecting them form the supernatural in the way she hadn’t managed to all those years ago? But then, the character evolved. Now she’s working with the BMoL, and she seems plenty okay with where she is and how she’s fitting in, so narratively things have gotten more complicated. Also, we already know she’d die for her kids, so that point, which would have been a classical end of season conclusion, is moot.

(Although, interestingly enough, she would sacrifice her kids, and herself, for a chance of completing ‘the mission’, so that’s some food for thought.)

And, sure, one could argue that Mary’s purpose in joining the BMoL ties in with her ‘original’ narrative purpose, because it’s about ridding the world of monsters and therefore save her kids, but I think there’s more to it than that. What Ketch said about Dean? Well, he wasn’t wrong - he just wasn’t talking to the right Winchester. Because Dean is not like that -

The Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our - inclinations. You’re a killer, Dean Winchester, and so am I. And if we go too long without something to track or trap or punch or gut, well, things get a bit ugly. Don’t they?

- but I’m starting to think Mary is. I’m sure we’ve all noticed how her hunting style has changed over the past few weeks. In the very beginning, she was set in her old ways and also oddly gentle, like her sons get when they realize monsters are not completely at fault (I’m thinking in particular about her relationship with that ghost kid). But now, all of that is gone. She dresses in tactical black, carries every gadget she can find, accepts leadership and orders instead of wandering off on her own, knows all the lingo and terminology she needs to communicate with her squad, and monsters - they’re just a pest, things to be killed. Bloodsuckers, she called those vampires they exterminated.

(Cut to a young girl, desperate and terrified: “They’re all dead.”)

In assuming what is shaping up to be also Cas’ trope this season - the soldier who’s seen too much war and now can’t do without - Mary’s arc changes radically. As far as I know, that story has no happy ending. The thing mostly goes, Man oh man, it was so bad over there, I’m happy to be here (with you) again - and then what follows is, in the best case, nightmares and unhappiness and a sort of frenzied edginess; in the worst, a hasty return to the battlefield. That’s basically the plot of The Hurt Locker, of Sherlock (in a way), of the entire 24 franchise. And it’s so hard to find a happy ending because the challenge the character needs to overcome is inside their mind, not out, and is fed not only by their craving of combat (that ‘purity’ Dean also struggled with), but also what comes with it: the adrenaline rush, those ‘tighter than blood’ friendships, and the feeling of doing something right, useful, acutely needed. In fiction, this trope is often very similar to the struggle of the drug addict, of the alcoholic, because this is what it’s all about: an addiction.

So, look, I don’t know. Mary didn’t seem particularly taken with motherhood and a normal life the first time around, so I doubt she’ll do a Jody and try to start a family again. On the other hand, she can’t stay in the Bunker, because there’s no way the show will ever be about that, and we know it well by now. She could die, but it’d seem cheap, petty, almost, to bring her back in such a momentous way to kill her off after a handful of episodes. My guess is that the rest of this season will show Mary (and Sam) picked the wrong side, and it will all end in blood and heartache, and Mary will run away at the end, or disappear, so we can explore all sort of painful mirrors next season - stuff like, Should we go after her? and She doesn’t want us to find her and She killed Jody, man (just saying whatever here, hope it doesn’t come down to that) and, inevitably, But she’s mom. And, I don’t know - why did Sam and Dean try so hard to find John in S1 again? Because Sam wanted to get his hands on John’s new intel on Yellow Eyes so he could kill him, and Dean - Dean was motivated, as he always is, by a twin need to both look after his family and not be left alone. Like, Dean went to find Sam because he couldn’t deal with life on his own and also because he was downright worried about John, however little he said about that. Here was an unpredictable drunk, the only parent he’d ever known, going off after a demon on his own. That was a death sentence for sure. But now - if Mary were to disappear, that would really show how these characters have grown. Now, they understand how hollow revenge is; they both said as much in The Chitters. They also know hunting’s a job, not a mission, and that one day - hopefully - they’ll get out of it. They understand (sort of) that adults make their own decisions; that you’re not responsible for other people’s lives.

I hope this sort of makes sense? This is not (exactly) what I’d like for this story, but I’m just trying to be realistic. If Mary doesn’t die, which, as I said, doesn’t seem likely, then we’ll need a good reason for her to be absent most of next season, because that’s how Supernatural works, and I hope they’ll not have her just river gambling or whatever - I’m hoping for some solid explanation for her absence, and from the way things are shaping up, it looks like whatever it is, it’ll be very unpleasant.

#ask #spn meta #mary winchester #spn season 12 #spn speculation #these guys really need their beach vacation

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daetur · 8 years ago

Text

The Calm Before the Storm (Dyrihm Personal Event Log, Part 6)

After a few weeks of quiet from Solis, Trevarde, and the Ebon Blade, the Charnel Corps are called to retrieve a Vrykul artifact- the Torch of Bryndaor, an item that tears the soul from the one who touches it, allowing them to trade places with someone already passed into the Shadowlands.

Dyrihm sets another faction on his scent as he destroys the artifact to save Rey and Reya- and the Corps covers for him. Left to wait, now, until either the Blade or the Forsaken make another move, Dyrihm is paid a visit by Nob, who intends to check in.

Dyrihm is packing away a large bag of feed, dressed down to his shirtsleeves as he works in the yard- seems he just finished tending to the one living member of his household, that white kodo he got around Winter Veil. Oddly, he seems... at ease.

Jackdaw forces himself visible before approaching. His cowl is absent entirely, and his lank reddish hair looks... recently washed? In fact, his armor is spotless. He crams his thumbs under his belt and looks a bit awkward as he walks up.

Dyrihm turns, spotting movement. "Nob! You- you're looking remarkably well." He smiles, then falters, peering more carefully. "How are, uh, the spiders?"

Jackdaw holds up the afflicted hand, waggles his fingers in a longsuffering sort of way. "Wore out sometime last night. Was gettin' real inconvenient there, I sure don't miss 'em any."

Dyrihm chuckles, seeming relieved. "Oh, good. That really... put a damper on your whole stealth thing. And, you know, lots of unwelcome guests." He gives small shudder. "How're Rey and Reya holding up? And Varun?"

Jackdaw grimaces delicately. "It's bad enough that I ain't sure either of 'em would want me spreadin' it around."

Dyrihm 's face falls, ease turning to a bit of sorrow. "Ah," he says. "I- I'm sorry to hear." He sighs. "I've put Varun in a bad position, but I just... thought it better me than him. At least he doesn't have to fear for himself, you know?"

[Jackdaw]: It... it spared him havin' ta make that CHOICE. I'm... look, I came over here ta thank ya for it. Fer both of 'em.

Jackdaw absently pushes distressingly floofy hair out of the way of an eyesocket. "I went Underneath lookin' fer 'im when i happened, an' I had ta piece t'gether what you done from how everybody gone on after. I- I wish I woulda thought of it myself.

Dyrihm smiles, not totally able to dispel the sorrow around the corners of his mouth- but it's genuine. "Thanks, Nob. It was an easy choice for me. That's why I made it-" He waves a hand. "You've got enough tallies against you from the City. So does Frost, with his rampages, as ready as he was to stomp the thing into the ground. I'm just glad I was able to help."

[Dyrihm]: Still... haven't talked to Maul, though. That's probably not going to be pretty.

Jackdaw shakes his head unhappily. "Dyr, ya already got this shit with the Blade- ya oughta be able t' count on the City at least backin' ya up. I- I'm more grateful than you know that it got done, but Light, the kinda squeeze this puts ya in- shit, ALL of us."

Jackdaw glances around suddenly, paranoid, and stops himself.

Dyrihm nods, and beckons Nob inside, down the courtyard hatch into his small seating room. "Rey's checked inside for anything that could listen in," he explains.

Jackdaw follows inside, looking relieved at that news. "Fuckin' good. Shit, sorry, got myself worked up..."

Dyrihm waves a hand. "I'm- I'm not as cautious as I should, be, much of the time." He laughs. "Guess that's kind of what's gotten me into so much trouble lately. Been forgetting all my old precautions." The Knight shrugs. "Anyway- Honestly, I'm counting on the Blade shit to help me in this case. I haven't heard anything lately, and I don't know if that's good or bad news, but- if things go poorly with them, Rey's been very clear about coming to my assistance with whatever help he can get. From there, I can probably fake a permanent disappearance to the Forsaken- and, if the Forsaken take me before the Blade does, well, if we can make the Blade want me bad enough, they've already broken one Knight out under Sylvanas's nose."

Jackdaw looks, probably understandably, less than pleased with that breakdown.

[Jackdaw]: So basically yer countin' on the rock an' the hard place fightin' over ya, and not crushin' ya between while they have a go. Dyr... Lightssake.

Dyrihm nods. "That's about it, yeah." He crosses his arms. "Let's face it, Nob, I'm- I'm probably fucked. It's a matter of time. But this way, at least some good can come of it."

Dyrihm pats his chest. "And... Rey's been helping me prepare for the worst."

[Jackdaw]: He- he has?

Jackdaw doesn't know what to think of that- he's confused, glad, and worried all at once.

Dyrihm scratches the back of his neck. "Well, he's been talking with this Knight Solis, the one Trevarde answers to. I guess he... taught him how to use shadows to torture through fear and doubt, like Rey does. More effective for what Solis wants, but it... it'll buy more time for me to be rescued. And he's worked with me on... resisting it."

Jackdaw looks wounded. "He- Dyr- FUCK!"

Dyrihm flashes a sharp grin, and looks.... proud. "Turns out I can fight Rey's tricks pretty well. It's a good start."

Jackdaw honestly looks a bit scared. "Fuck, Dyr, ain't you still havin'... fuck, you said once, how after fightin' that one time in Northrend, you was- somethin' was unstable."

Jackdaw points at himself. "This is what ya get when ya go lettin' power-mad fucks crack at yer soul, Dyr!"

Dyrihm nods. He can't deny that. "Yeah, that's... far as I know, still a problem. Thor'del said it might improve with time, but... If I want to die bad enough, my soul'll fuck right off." He taps his chest again. "And, hey! I'm taking precautions! Rey gave me a little something to help. Some of his shadows, piggybacking on my soul, but... nice, instead of full of fear."

Jackdaw makes a frustrated noise and stares at Dyr, chewing a ghostly lip that Dyrihm can't see. "Fuck. Well. It's all moot anyway. They ain't gonna have ya. An' we're gonna keep this other shit quiet."

Dyrihm smiles. "That's the hope!" He looks at Nob- grateful, catching his gaze- and clears his throat. "I'm really glad you all have my back. Honestly. And I'd do the same."

[Jackdaw]: Shit, Dyr, I know ya would. Think about every one of us knows ya would. S'why it makes this easy.

Jackdaw sighs. "Was jes on my way ta find Hattie an' Som, though."

Dyrihm 's smile falters. "They... do worry me, a little. Hattie's so new, and Som- well, I don't know either of them well. They've no reason to stick their necks out for me."

Jackdaw nods. "I ain't sure Hattie really.. understands. She's a smart one though, if a bit off kilter- I figure, I talk with 'er, she'll get it."

[Jackdaw]: Som was bein' a curt little shit about it though.

Jackdaw makes a slightly dangerous face, something sharp behind his disgust.

Dyrihm frowns. "Yeah, Som... I'm not sure how to read him. The living-" he sighs. "Things are always hard with them."

Jackdaw rolls a shoulder. "Yeah, well... if he has a problem with it, I'll take care've it."

Dyrihm blinks. "I- thanks. I mean, I don't want the poor guy dead or anything, but... he doesn't owe me shit. You've probably got a better chance at getting him to come around."

[Dyrihm]: Speaking of taking care of things, though- Frost and Dahl seemed pretty adamant about trying to get some answers out of Trevarde tonight. You want me to comm you when they're going after him?

Jackdaw perks up a bit. "Shit- yeah, 'course."

Dyrihm grins. "Good. I'll feel better knowing you'll have their backs from the shadows."

Jackdaw rasps, "Surprised you ain't goin', t'be honest. If it were me, an' some old mate've MINE..."

Dyrihm grimaces. "Maul FORBID me from speaking with him," he grumbles. "And I figure now's not the time to stop on his toes. I've pushed my luck enough."

Jackdaw winces. "Shit- yeah. Aww, fuck, I... been on his bad side enough times t'know."

Dyrihm gives Nob a sympathetic smile. "I think I can get away with a lot with him, but- I trust you guys to figure out what's going on. He's been quiet lately, haven't heard about any new letters."

[Jackdaw]: Dyr- who was this guy t'you, anyway? I seen he was in yer unit an', all, but... bloody hell, what'd make a man turn like that?

Dyrihm sighs. "He was- a friend. Like any of you, I guess. He was our mender, and I... I wish I knew. That's what I'd like you all to find out, because, frankly, it's been FUCKING KILLING ME." He sighs again, at the end of the frustrated outburst. "But, no, Maul doesn't give a shit about WHY," he mutters.

Jackdaw hesitantly puts a hand on Dyr's upper arm, bracing. Hey there buddy, it's all right. "Sorry, mate."

Dyrihm drags a hand over his face, glancing at Nob. He leans into the touch ever so slightly, and does seem to calm. "Sorry, I just- I keep wondering what I did, you know? When I- when I died, and was raised as a Knight, I'd left my post, where I was supposed to be with the troop. I don't know if he's... mad about that, or if it's something else, or if he's just... changed. Maybe it's many things. It's been more than ten years, after all."

Jackdaw winces. "I... dunno, got a theory, from what writin' I found down there. I'll test it out. We'll find out for ya, Dyr."

Dyrihm raises a brow. "What're you thinking?"

Jackdaw chews a lip he doesn't HAVE again. It looks weird, like he's faking an overbite. "All that shit 'bout soul magic, necromancy shit... dunno. Maybe he's dyin'. Maybe he's got the brain rot, an' he's tryin ta find folk who can offer him the kinda magic that'll keep it at bay."

Dyrihm frowns. "That... is different. I know he had a hard time with the Light after being raised, but- maybe he just... went too far over time." Dyrihm sighs. "That's... a shame."

Jackdaw shrugs, lets his hand fall away. "Dunno nothin' for sure. But I wouldn't be surprised, is all I'm sayin'."

Dyrihm nods. "Well. We'll find out more later, hopefully." He clasps his hands in front of him. "Haven't heard from any of them since I died. 'Course, I never really went looking. Caught up in my own shit. Maybe that was a mistake." He shakes his head. "I'll let you know when it's time to go, then."

Jackdaw nods, and takes a couple steps toward the hatch. "Thanks again fer... fuck. Y'know. Ought not talk about it again, probably. But-" He stops himself, expression vulnerable.

Dyrihm nods. "I don't regret it for a second," he says, firmly, then chuckles softly. "Fuck if I know how, but Rey and Reya- they're good friends, and they mean a lot to me. Even if we share some... differences."

Jackdaw nods. He sure does understand That. "I- me too."

[Dyrihm]: ‘Differences,’ here meaning ‘Scourge-and-Cult-loving fucking shit.’

Jackdaw huffs a laugh, glancing at his feet. "Light, tell me about it."

Dyrihm laughs. He's really never shittalked Rey before, even if it's lovingly. "Take care of 'em for me," he says. "And Varun too. I worry."

Jackdaw nods. The flash of worry there is, perhaps, genuinely concerning. But he's quickly clambering up to the hatch. "'Course. See ya soon, mate."

[Dyrihm]: See you soon, Nob.

Jackdaw gives a little wave and vanishes- literally, as he's often wont to do- through the hatch.

#Dyrihm #RP logs #Event logs #Charnel Corps #Discorpse

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