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celestialiron · 4 months ago

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Echoes of Courage: Chapter 7

Short chapter for today! Here's to finally feeding some lore, even if it's a little bit lol. Hope everyone had a great week/weekend!

Summary: *Frank Sinatra's voice* ♪Regrets..... I've had a few...♪

(Prologue: Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 - Ch.5 - Ch.6 - Current)

Sunday hit a lot faster than usual, meaning time was flying for the end of August and entering September the next day. With time flying, it also meant a new day for a fresh start to the day.

Especially for those that needed to apologize for their surprised plan of action in a certain training room.

Izra sighed into her couch, waiting a bit before deciding to call Valeria to apologize for what had happened on Friday.

Again.

Hearing the door open, with the sounds of shuffling of feet and paws, Rai entered from grocery shopping with Alex, hoping he would make the food she said she was going to make tonight. “She still isn’t answering?” Rai asked, knowing that Izra had been trying to call Val for about a day or so now. “No and I already talked to Kira yesterday and she also said that she wasn’t responding to her text messages too!” Groaning with what she said, Izra laid face down on her couch, feeling both restless and guilty at what happened before. Putting most of the groceries away, giving Alex a treat while he laid on his bed by the window, Rai made his way towards the couch, lifting Izra up so she was sideways, head lying comfortably on his lap.

“Once again, I did warn you what would’ve happened if you pulled what you did in the training room,” “I know you did, you don’t have to rub it in.” She grumbled while he chuckled, soothingly rubbing her arms in comfort. “I’ll never understand why she always fights against herself! She always does that, glad that no matter how long it’ll be, she’ll shield away her heart so nothing and no one can hurt her!” Izra was beyond frustrated to say the least. Growing up, Valeria had a tendency to shut down when it came to her having feelings for anyone, but then destroys herself and the person she has feelings for in the process too, thinking it would be better that way. She just wanted her best friend to be happy, but not if it comes down to Valeria hurting herself, again . “Izzie, you know what she went through growing up. We all also suffered a lot too. Sometimes it’s hard to forget, you should understand that.” “I do, but we’re in a place where peace can be real, where the healing is here for us too! I just… I just want her to be happy. And the same with Kira!” Closing her eyes, enjoying the soothing sensation Rai was giving to her. “Kira told me already yesterday about her and Donnie’s conversation and they’re fine for now, but it’s the same with them too!” “I know babe, you just have to give both of them time, as usual.” Smiling, grateful Rai was here comforting her. “Yeah, I know. Thanks Rai,” she looked up at him, reaching out with one hand to cup his cheek.

“Y’know, Leo did tell me what had happened that day too. Especially the conversation he had with Donnie . ” Surprised by that statement, Izra sat up real quick, moving so that she was sitting on the couch with her legs over his lap. “Really now? What did he even say?” She asked, 100% ready for the information Rai got when hanging out with Leo that day. “I’ll tell you, but you need to promise me to not say anything to anyone. I cannot stress that enough Izzie ,” nodding furiously, waiting for what was about to be said, Rai continued on.

“Well, it sort of went like this…”

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Here sitting on the ledge of Run of the Mill restaurant, Rai waited patiently for Leo to grab their food, ready to hear what exactly happened during training that he had to talk to him immediately about. Hearing his phone buzz, getting a couple texts from Izra, which just read…

IzzieKitty♥️: I hate it when you’re right sometimes!

IzzieKitty♥️: So much happened during training, whenever you get the chance, please stop by! 😭

“Texting your sweetheart there, Joseph?” Turning his head to where Leo was standing, finally out with some pizza, Rai laughed, putting his phone away while shaking his head at the use of his middle name. “I still can’t believe your brother found out what my middle name was. I’ve done so well without anyone else knowing!” Laughing while sitting alongside him, Leo couldn’t help but to mess around with Rai, feeling a lot better than he did earlier. “Hey, if only you had a better first name, then the nicknames would be better!” “Sure, okay, because that was the issue! Also, don’t try to avoid the subject, you only call me that when you have something to talk about!” Rai questioned, knowing full well the conversation was going to go elsewhere if he hadn’t brought up why he was in the Hidden City, eating pizza with Leo late in the afternoon. Leo sighed, knowing that he did text Rai to talk to him about the incident that happened, just not sure where to start or how to even explain everything. “Well, remember how I told you that I wanted to get Donnie to realize what he’s going to miss out on with Kira?” “Even though she’s currently seeing someone, yes?” Rai answered, not entirely too sure where this was going. “Well, let’s just say your lovely girlfriend sort of read my mind somehow and made slight changes for training today…”

“I don’t know if I should be excited or terrified? Scratch that, I’m terrified, what the hell did she do?”

“Well, she said that Kira needed help with some moves we did last session, which made both Val and Donnie not too happy with the idea at all…”

“And?”

“And I sort of… maybe possibly… went a bit too far with explaining it to them again…”

Rai blinked slowly, looking at Leo who nervously chewed on his pizza, not knowing how to continue off from there. “...oh my god Leo, what did you do?!” Rai exclaimed, surprised that Leo was even sitting here, speaking to him at all! “Nothing too bad! Just kind of, maybe, sorta, went a bit too handsy with Kira and Donnie did not react well to that at all!” Leo finished, hands up in defense, trying to gather his thoughts on how to explain the rest of the situation to Rai. Shaking his head, putting down his second slice, fully turned towards Leo, face 100% serious.

“How are you even still here?! And alive?! You KNOW how Donnie feels about Kira and HE HASN’T KILLED YOU YET?!” “I KNOW, I ALMOST WAS!” Leo shouted, burying his face into his hands while leaning back on his shell, continuing his rant from earlier, “see, all of us have been trying to get Donnie to open his eyes for so long and try to at least do something different on the approach, but it seemed like he gave up! LIKE IT WAS NOTHING! And it doesn’t make it better that Kira is seeing that jerk, who hates us, mind you, and it’s so clear that she also has feelings for this dum-dum of my brother, but it’s like both of them are either too blind or just doesn’t want to act on it!” Looking down to where he was lying, Leo dropped his hands from his face over his plastron, looking more frustrated than before. “We’ve tried so hard to get either of them to act on their feelings, but no, this idiot isn’t even trying, just staying friends with her. AND THE NERVE TO CASUALLY TELL US THAT ONE NIGHT HE WAS GOING TO SEE SOMEONE?! FOR TECH THINGS?! MY ASS JUST FOR THAT!” Rolling over, Leo jumped to his feet and started to pace around the rooftop, “when today happened, I knew I had to take that opportunity that Izra set up for and she didn’t even know it! When Donnie pulled me over, I really did think I was going to get murdered by him,” he shivered, not wanting to think of all the possibilities Donnie could’ve had to end everything for him. “But he just questioned everything, like it wasn’t obvious enough. “Why are you doing that?! What’s wrong with you?! SHE HAS SOMEONE” and so on and so forth. All I told him, which I want to say that April told him the same thing, was “just because she has someone, doesn’t mean they’re the right person for her. You’re going to regret not having a shot and lose her if you don’t make your move!” That’s all I said and he had no words. Cause he knew I was right, but no, I still get the short end of the stick from all of this! I’m just looking out for him!”

With his rant finished, heaving deep breaths from talking so much, there was so much to impact on from hearing the story. Nodding in understanding, Rai had thought of something that still didn’t make sense to him. “You said both Donnie AND Val were upset. Do you know why she was upset?” Standing stiffly, Leo turned his head over his shoulder, answering as best as he could, “at first I thought it had to do with the training. There’s usually a routine that we do for the training session, but when Izra suggested what she did, Val seemed upset and confused by it. When I found her before leaving, I had wanted to say sorry for what happened, but she was the one who apologized. Then told me that she just needed a bit of time to cool off and left it at that. I hope that was the only reason…” Looking upwards at the supposed sky, thoughts running through his head, Leo wasn’t sure what to think of from Valeria’s point of view. He really did hope it was because of the training as to why she reacted that way. Curious about his thoughts about the issue at hand, Leo looked over to Rai, who was leaning into the palm of his hand, looking to be in his own thoughts, probably thinking of what could’ve been the issues with his childhood friends. “Rai, you’ve known Kira and Val longer than us, what do you think they’re feeling right now?” Sitting down next to him, Leo waited patiently on the answer to his question. Sighing out loudly, Rai finally had his own thoughts to share. “Honestly, even I’m not sure what they would be feeling. Kira and Val are sort of the same but the opposite of each other. Val sometimes shuts out her feelings and moves on as if there’s not a care in the world after maybe a couple hours or even a couple days. Kira locks in her feelings and doesn’t say a word about it. Keeping everything to herself really. Honestly, the only few people that would understand them the most would be Izra, Ruka, Sara, and Riku. Izra and Ruka, they all constantly hung out together every day since practically day one and obviously Kira’s siblings.”

With his explanation finished, Rai turned over to Leo, who looked to be even more conflicted about everything once more. Placing his hand on his shoulder, making Leo look over towards him, Rai smiled, trying his best to cheer him up. “Listen Lee, sometimes when emotions get too out of hand, things like this will happen. But I promise you, everything will be okay. You just gotta let the girls figure it out on their own and as for Donnie…” Rai hesitated, still not 100% sure about that whole situation with his brother, “I think he’ll understand where you’re coming from. But you still need to apologize cause you also didn’t have to go to the extreme of being handsy with Kira,” he side-eyed Leo, making him chuckle nervously, knowing he was right about that. “But you care enough about him that you pulled whatever stunt you did, right?” “Of course I care! Not just Donnie, I don’t want any of them to get hurt and seeing how much it bothers him, I can’t stand it! I just want him to be happy, however way he can be.” Leo finished, feeling like someone was understanding him a whole lot better than what he got lectured on from Raph earlier too. “Thanks Rai, I’m glad I got the chance to talk to you. I’m sorry if you had anything planned and I ruined it,” patting his shoulder, grabbing his half eaten slice of pizza, Rai cut him off. “You didn’t ruin any plan, just going to see Izra later anyways, so this was the perfect buffer,” with that said, making Leo laugh loudly, happy to have made him feel a lot better about the whole situation. Smiling widely, Rai wanted to tease Leo, seeing as his friend was feeling more himself once again, “and I wanted to ask how things were going with this person you’ve been sleeping with anyways!” Stuttering before answering him, the two talked about everything and anything else before Rai decided to head over to his lovely girlfriend’s apartment.

To hear the rest of the story from her point of view…

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“Oh man, I’m just glad you were there to make him feel better.” Izra said, face laying sideways to his shoulder, looking up at him when finished with the story. Rai rubbed his eyes with his free hand sighing, while the other held Izra closely to him by the waist. “Yeah, man’s was a whole mess. And I can also see what you meant whenever Val or Leo are mentioned in any form of conversation from either of them. It was as clear as day that he has feelings for her, but my curiosity is also wondering, how do you know or see how she has feelings for him?” Glancing and picking up her phone, Izra went to find something that Rai wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for. “Remember whenever I had the free chance to, I would write down the most important lessons that I learned from home?” Confused, not knowing where she was going with this, Rai nodded, “but you had like a million notebooks that you would write them in. I didn’t even know you had some in your phone!” Shaking her head, Izra explained it, “I know, but the ones on my phone were not the ones I would write down. It would be from Pops or your parents and all,” looking through her phone, she found the one note that was saved from Valeria’s father. “This note, though so long ago, always made me remember to tell Val on occasion if her dad wasn’t saying it to her when he wasn’t home sometimes on those “business” trips.” Showing it to Rai, he read it aloud.

“Find someone that’ll look at you with so much love that you’ll be able to see yourself through their eyes. Whoever it is, let them be that star in your life.”

Still a bit confused, Rai asked, “okay, but what does this have to do with her or Leo?”

“Pops always made sure to let her know this, even when she would go through all those heartbreaks during school. Valé would always say that she was annoyed by it, but I knew she kept it to heart. She always knew her dad was never lying about these sorts of things too,” putting her phone away, Izra went back to laying her head on Rai’s shoulder. “I see the way they both look at each other. The way she looks at Leo and talks either to him or about him. But I also see when she talks about the guy she’s sleeping with too, it’s like all of her emotions are all over the place. It’s like maybe, with everything happening, she doesn’t know what to do.” With that said, Rai held her close while she shut her eyes, both thinking about other possibilities about both of their friend’s feelings about the twin brothers. “And with how Kira’s feeling from what she’s told you, it’s even more hard for her to even think of anything more with Donnie too. Man, trauma fucking sucks , you know that babe,” laughing at his sudden but true accusation, Izra opened her eyes slightly, humming in agreement while nodding with him, checking the time, hoping it wasn’t too late to order dinner, clearly neither of the two in any mood to cook anything. Before either of them knew it, Izra’s phone started ringing, noticing who the caller was, as fast as she could while standing back up, grabbed her phone to pick up Valeria’s incoming call.

“Hi, I wasn’t expecting you to call so late!”

“I’m sorry, is it a bad time?”

“NO! I mean, of course not Valé! How are you feeling?”

She heard a heavy sigh from the other side, a little nervous Valeria was still not doing well since the training incident. “I’m doing better than I was on Friday. Luckily I had the weekend off from work anyways too, heh.” Chuckling softly, Izra waited to hear more from Valeria, “listen. I’m sorry for how I acted. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but everything was happening so fast, even I wasn’t sure what was happening. But…” She paused, making Izra sweat with more nervousness, “I was talking with Kira earlier before calling you and like I told her too, I appreciate your help, but I need to figure these things out for myself Izzie. I understand where you’re all coming from, but please, for my sake, just let me handle it… Please?” Breathing out slowly, not even realizing she was holding her breath the whole time, Izra responded to Valeria, hoping to make amends with her friend.

“For you, I’ll back off, but only for a bit, okay? I love you Val and I feel bad about what happened, but I also just want you to be happy too.”

“I know Izzie, you all are, but I hadn’t needed it before, so please, let me handle it from then on. If not for your own sake, but mine too?”

She sadly smiled, Izra understanding where Valeria was coming from, as usual . “I will, I promise you and Kira that. So, we’re good then?” “Yes, we’re good. Just don’t pull another stunt like that again! At least not with me, do it to Kira, she may need it more than me!” Both laughing, Izra just shook her head, “I think I’ll hold off until the fires dim down from this alone, are you trying to get me killed?!” “Always, that’s just been our friendship for years now,” still laughing at each other, Izra was the one to end the call, “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. Rai and I are about to eat, so please do the same and take care of yourself! Don’t do anything stupid missy!” “Yeah, yeah I won’t! I’ll talk to you guys later, love you, bye!” With that, the phone call ended, leaving Izra feeling better, having Valeria forgive her for what happened while also feeling better that she talked to Kira about it too. “So now that you’ve all forgiven each other, what does it mean for the rest of them now?” Rai asked, curious as to what the next sort of plan would be for the group as a whole. “For now, Leo said that we should take it easy on training days. Possibly keep it on shorter days while they keep an eye out for anything suspicious happening around the city still.”

While waiting for their food to be delivered, Izra actually wasn’t sure what the guy’s next steps were for their missions from here on out. With these new enemies popping up while old ones seem to be getting more riskier, she and the rest of the group weren’t too sure how they would handle it all.

Especially if these “new” enemies are targeting all of them once again…

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(Next: Ch.8)

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scribble-dribble-writes · 2 years ago

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Loveless - (44)

<<<Prev Next>>>

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Word Count: 2200

Warnings: panic, chaos

I know you're going to hate me for this cliffhanger, but believe me when I say I will give you the most soul stirring happy ending 😭😭😭

I've just been feeling very angsty lol

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Chapter 44

When he was a child, Namor swam further away than what he was supposed to. His little wings fluttering in excitement as he navigated towards this vessel that floated above the waves, one he had never seen. His guards called him to turn back as they swam towards him, his mother had told him stories of his father, of his courage and how he travelled over waves to move between islands. Having never know him, Namor always searched for anything that could connect him to his father, to this unknown fantasy of how he would have been like.

But it was one of those moments, when you don’t know you’re heading towards danger and yet you swim towards it, like a prey entranced by the light of an anglerfish. He swam along the school of fish, when before he knew it, was trapped in the nets. The water rushing around him, his wings caught in the holes. Curiosity turned to fear. His guards were quick to cut the wire, to set him free. That was all he could remember about it and till this day, he kept away from boats.

It felt the same now, as his back bumped against the railing, this metaphorical net being spun around him, like the tentacles of a kraken spiralling around his ankles to drag him into depths he never knew, his view to his exit was blocked and no guards were around to cut the net this time. He felt the need to claw at the invisible space around him, so he can escape through the crevice.

But who saves a saviour?

“You can relax. I’ve only come here with a business proposition.”, she stalked closer.

Business. He inhaled sharply. This was how his ancestors went from peaceful dwellers to becoming slaves.

“I must say. I’m impressed.”, she folded her arms.

“I was expecting you to misbehave. But it’s wonderful when everything turns to work in my favour.”, her very presence had begun to annoy him.

He assessed her, wondering if that was why she was here, to make sure he messes up so that it would prove her point, that these two kingdoms cannot govern over their protected land and coveted resources because they were uncivilized.

“The world’s rarest resource combined with the endless man power that you have control over.”, her eyes began to gleam with desire.

“Now’s that’s a deal I can get behind.”

The fear was beginning to brim, the threads were beginning to wrap around his throat.

He had warned the princess before. His hunch had always been right. The fate of their ancestors would soon come around for them. The very interest in Val's eyes let him know that she did everything with an agenda. She looked away at the distant view but he could tell she wasn’t here to admire it’s beauty, only to assess if she had anything to gain from it.

“Do you know the easiest way to topple a kingdom?”, she asked, her eyes zoning down on him.

But the question had only one answer, one he had executed over the years when he enacted revenge against local conquistador rulers and redistributed the land they had stolen to those it belonged to or when he burned down their establishments to set free the people they controlled. He stepped away , she leaned closer.

“You capture the king.”, she whispered and that feeling settled in again. That he was alone now.

His eyes widened before his nose flicked in anger. His fingers curling into a fist, she was reading his reaction, like a scientist would observe a specimen.

“But why stop there, when I can win it all?”, she asked and he froze.

To anyone who had even mildly threatened him, his actions were severe or atleast they were so in the past. But right now, he had a lot to lose, his people and a chance at a life for himself. So instead of fighting his way through, he chose to pause. His mannerism causing her to smile viciously.

“It’s evident she’s fond of you but the real twist in all this,”, he felt the tip of her nails scrap over his hand.

“is that she is your only weakness.”, she snickered and all his lives flashed before his life. He pulled away his hand in disgust.

“What do you want?”, he grumbled. She looked appeased.

“What everybody in that room wants.”, she passed it off as a basic need. Like it wasn't much of an ask, as though she was entitled to it.

He was in a fight with himself, trying to choose between controlling his anger or negotiating a way out of this. He titled his head, the menacing voices in his head telling him to handle this differently. But he reminded himself of the reason he was here, he had to get back to the event. So he regained his composure, his eyes narrowing down on her.

“These requests you make, to satisfy your own greed does not mean anything to me.”, he stood to his full height and for a second fear flickered in her eyes.

“And if you raise your finger against her and my people.”, the skies above him began to rumble as if they were on his side.

“You will rue the very day, for I will be what your nightmares would be made of.”, he checked her shoulder as he walked towards the door.

“See, I had a feeling you would say that.”, she folded her arms and he stopped to turn to see her. Frustrated that she wasn't giving up, that some how him choosing the high road wasn't enough.

“You know history well enough don’t you?”, she asked cocking her eyebrow before answering her own question.

“The thunderbolts were my Trojan horse, to secure an entry into Wakanda.", she waved her hand unenthusiastically.

"But you are what is pivotal to my scheme, you are my bargaining chip.”, she stood taller looking more confidant and his composure wavered.

He felt out of his element, his mind trying to solve the meaning behind her words all too suddenly feeling like a pawn in a game he didn't know the rules to.

“Anyway. I don’t want to keep you away for too long. The press is all set for you.”, she shrugged her shoulders with a pleasant smile as she held her hand towards the door and the chaos behind it.

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He left, his cape swirling behind him. The room was warm and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. Everything moved around him slowly making him feel like he was being ripped away from everything he had built.

The lights were brighter, the people around him turned faceless, the noise was louder. The trauma that he had endured for generations was beginning to come to the surface again. Whispering in his ears that he never belonged anywhere. He was a mutant, and so all he was ever entitled to do, was hide. That the very history he tried to escape had only taken it’s sweet time to catch up to him.

Val’s insinuation had gotten under his skin making him feel like a skittish animal, to look over his shoulder, to search for a place to disappear. He didn't want this cycle to start again, he was tired of it.

He didn't know what he was continuing to fight for.

His throat was drying up and his skin felt brittle. His body yearned for the ocean. He took another glass of water, to keep his cool and wash away the feeling, like all his efforts had been futile. It brought him back to where he had started as a boy, only to now have the opportunity to see everything be lost with his own eyes.

He had hardly met the woman, so how was he pivotal to her scheme?

He searched the crowd when he saw the princess, she busy on the podium, advocating for both their kingdoms. Voicing out their stance against trading weapons and he understood it was so much deeper and intricate than what he had chosen to do. That Tchalla's noble proclamation was done so that he could help his people whose history was much different than Wakanda's and yet this world around them had found a way to contort it to suit it's own needs. And she was there, present through all of it, continuing that legacy of hope and aid while fending off these wolves.

The water did nothing to help, instead it only tasted funny in the pallete of his mouth. A few members of the Dora Milaje approached him to escort him to the stage. He straightened himself, wiping his forehead, his fingers felt limp as did his feet. The tick of every second, the thump of his heart in his throat, all growing louder. The closer he got, the relief on the princess’s face grew evident. She smiled and that’s when it clicked. His eyes grew wide, he knew how he fit into Val’s plan.

So he stopped. Unable to get on the stage. He was the lure, to play on her feelings, to twist her affection so that Val can win in the end. She was waiting for him and he was the dagger. The irony, that the very thing he was trying to protect was to be hurt by his hands, once again. Maybe if he was mad enough, unfeeling enough, he could do it. To walk up there and watch the world burn around him, to give it what it desires and see it be destroyed by it.

If only he had a heart of stone, to see it all through.

If only he was the true villain.

“Kulkulkan.”, a Dora Milaje warrior said assertively and he felt his heart tighten.

He couldn’t step towards her, his life was on the line and she would put herself at risk. Worser. Both their kingdoms would be brought down because of her sentiment towards him.

He stepped back. Her brows furrowed. The murmurs increased. And it all came crashing down when the screens surrounding them glitched to play a video.

Security cam footage of the night he attacked the ship. Coverage of his people, Attuma striking down the agent and finally, him, swirling the helicopter into the waves. It stopped. A momentary pause, the room was now dead silent. When another footage played. Of him hovering before the throne room as he threw his water bombs.

His heart began to palpitate, churning his anger and sadness. This world was always going to paint his people as monsters and savages that wrecked havoc on the lives of perfect people all because no one would go around to recheck the narrative.

“Sorry, Princess.”, he heard Val emerge to front as the crowd gave her way. This was what she wanted.

“With the new proof that has emerged, I have to arrest him.”, Val directed her team towards him.

“Stop.”, Shuri commanded, her eyes calculating this ploy. This was the bait Val wanted her to take, to get her to fall into the trap. He had to get her to safety first.

“Shuri.”, he called for her and when he caught her attention, he shook his head. Fear broke through her features. And the restraints that he had kept his mind under broke. This was why he hated the world, if found perfect ways to ruin everything he loved.

“Take her home.”, he commanded the warriors who were with him.

“But..”, they began to argue.

“Now.”, the frustration in his voice grew. They conceded and moved towards her.

He felt the surge of rage within him, that he knew his self control had come to its end. An officer placed his hand on him and Namor caught his wrist to throw him over his shoulder.

"No, take them down.", He heard her argue with her warriors as they prioritised to get her to move.

The crowd had begun to panic. If all he could do was give Val a hard time, to create the chaos she so desired, then he would do his best. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his throat was as hoarse as it can be. He had lost everything. His people’s identity, their secret and put her nation at risk. He was a threat to everyone.

He felt weakened and was unsure why that it was. His punches lacked the force it usually carried. His strength now was enough to match the officer, he felt mortal. The guests had begun to evacuate while a few stayed around the periphery and as Val stood there, waiting for her men to drag her prey in. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He freed himself from the men who were trying to subdue him, his chest heaving with heavy breaths, his gaze only focused on Val.

"You snake.", he growled as he propelled his steps towards her with his waning strength.

If this was his last act of goodness, for the sake of his people and Shuri's peace, then he will take this woman down with him. His vision began to blur, he heard Shuri yell out.

"Namor, don't -

But it drowned out with the sound of a gun shot and his leg buckled under him.

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This was supposed to be two chapters.

Sorry for the pain 🥹

Tags:

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years ago

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On Kong Kenan/Super-Man

It should've been him. He should've been the Superman of 5G/Future State/right now not Jon, and he should be the one getting an HBO Max series not Val. Hell he should be getting a movie!

God this dude is literally the best legacy character Superman has ever gotten, wholly his own person with his own lore and status quo while still building on the idea of "Superman". I am so pissed at DC for essentially just dropping him after his ongoing ended, what the hell Lee? You keep trying to make the Wildstorm characters happen, I need you to get my man Yang another Kenan book.

Have to admit I was a bit nervous at first about whether or not Kenan would be a worthwhile character. Yang's New 52 Superman run had been a disappointment to me overall, with only the the arc where Superman has underground wrestling matches against forgotten gods really sticking with me. Now he was introducing a brand new Superman? Didn't feel like he had "earned" that yet. But from the first issue I was hooked on this new character.

Kenan was unlike any other member of the Superfamily. He wasn't kind or sweet, he was an asshole! He was a bully! He was fantastic! Right from the start Kenan was set up to undergo a very different kind of character journey than the other members of the Superfamily. Empathy, humility, respect for people weaker than himself, these are all traits most heroes wearing the S-shield already posses by the time they first don the crest, but not Kenan.

Like all bullies he was even a bit of a coward himself at first, trying to bail on the experiment meant to give him Superman's powers right as it begins. After "saving" Lixin (the kid he bullies and steals lunch from every day) from Blue Condor he demands all the money Lixin has on him as payment. He's not courageous or selfless either at the start, Kenan is as much of an opposite of Superman as you can get short of being Bizarro. Learning the appeal of these traits formed the basis for his growth over the course of his series.

Seeing Yang bring in a lot of recognizable "Superman" elements in the series, but with a twist, was also great. Kenan is the one who bullies "Luo Lixin" rather than the traditional Clark/Lex friendship of Pre-Crisis and Birthright. Initially Kenan develops a crush on intrepid reporter for Primetime Shanghai, Laney Lan, but she dismisses him as too young and Kenan eventually ends up pursuing Avery Ho (Flash) instead. Baxi the Bat-Man of China has a similar relationship with Kenan as the traditional Superman/Batman in terms of being vitriolic best buds, however Baxi is the one who has the most respect for authority while Kenan is the rebel. Kenan is a part of the "Justice League of China" which does not meet with the approval of the already established Chinese superheroes, the Great Ten. That contrasts nicely with the good relationship the Justice Society and Justice League have, as well as seeing Yang lampshade the "Chinese copy" trope and incorporate that into his storytelling.

One of the funniest differences is how Kenan chooses to immediately reveal his identity as Super-Man to the world by taking off the compliance visor he was forced to wear, contrasting with Clark's choice to hide his identity. He was so eager to impress people that he never gave any thought to the danger he could put himself or his family in by revealing his identity until it was too late, something Clark is well aware of and has taken great pains to keep his identity secret. Was a missed opportunity for DC to have Kenan comment on Clark copying him for once when he outed himself under Bendis.

But one of the most poignant differences between Clark and Kenan is the gulf in separation between their relationship with their parents. Clark has a loving relationship with Ma and Pa Kent, trying to live up to their lessons as best he can. In contrast Kenan's mom was believed to have died in an airplane crash when he was just a child, and he never really knew her. His father was distant from him after that and the two weren't really close despite Kenan's attempts to impress him. So Kenan lacks that strong connection while still clearly loving both of them.

Pa Kent's death is one of the most tragic examples of Clark's love for his parents, and I've always been a fan of takes where Clark promises his father to fight for the powerless on Pa's deathbed. Kenan gets a similar scene at the start of his career, his dad "dies" (after being exposed as Flying General Dragon, a pro-democracy "supervillain" from the Chinese authorities perspective) and wants Kenan to promise he'll fight for Truth, Justice, and Democracy. But because Kenan's dad never really bonded with him, Kenan doesn't know what those mean, and can only promise that he never wants to see people die, something his father takes comfort in at least. In classic comic book fashion it's revealed that Dr. Omen, Kenan's "boss" and the one who gave him his powers, saved Kenan's father, because she is Kenan's mother! Kenan's relationship with his parents forms a lot of the crux of his character arc, and seeing how Yang utilizes the classic Superman concept of family kept the storytelling exciting.

Yang's brilliant exploration of the concept of "Superman" through the prism of Chinese culture was a great way to differentiate Kenan as well.

I absolutely freaking love how he tied to the concept of Qi to the S-shield in particular. Connecting the shape of the shield with the way Kenan has acquired his powers along the path of the Bagua (eight trigrams used in Taoism that represent the fundamental principles of reality), with his octagon S-shield outline representing all eight principles together, was mindblowing! So was the idea of restricting Kenan's access to his powers unless he was actually acting in a Superman manner, that tied his character growth to his power growth in an entertaining manner. There were so many characters and concepts that meshed Chinese and DC lore together, like how Emperor Super-Man was Kenan's "Doomsday", they even recreated that iconic dual kill shot! The Chinese Wonder Woman Peng Deilan, being based on the Chinese Legend of the White Snake! There was even some Korean mythology referenced with the Aqua-Man member of the JLC "Dragonson".

Yang also managed to do a Superman Blue/Superman Red story with Super-Man Yin/Super-Man Yang!

Shameful that it took me a while to realize what Gene Yang was doing but once I caught on I was touched. You can tell how much Yang loved Superman and his mythology, and how he was excited to incorporate as much from Clark as he could, while still using it in a way that was solidly Kenan's. And not just Superman's mythology, but the history and lore of the entire DC Universe. I-Ching got to be brought in, fleshed out, and used as Kenan's mentor! The "Yellow Peril" villain from Detective Comics #1, the comic DC gets its name from was brought in and revamped as I-Ching's twin brother All-Yang! Hats off to Yang for taking a racist caricature and attempting to make him into something more.

This series was a beautiful attempt by Gene Yang to build a space for Asian heroes and villains where they could be more than stereotypes, Kenan himself being a defiant mold-breaker in every regard as the complete opposite of most Asian characters in Western media (a jock, a bully, loves his dad but not on great terms with him, a powerhouse as a hero, etc). So much thought and hard work was poured into this by Yang and his team of artist collaborators.

Especially the costumes, man Kenan had so many great looks. From his starting outfit (which is my favorite Superman variant not worn by Clark himself), to the one with the Yin/Yang shield he acquired later on, to his Super-Man Yin & Super-Man Yang outfits, Kenan looked damn cool. Part of me is bummed they didn't go with the Chinese character shield they toyed around with, but I loved how Yang used the "s-shield" as a plot point, so I'm not too broken up over it.

All that great work Yang did to build that space up has been more or less forgotten sadly. It was nice to see Kenan in the DC Asian Month Celebration issue. Avery is going to be in Justice Incarnate at least (unsurprising considering she was created by Williamson). So fucking bummed that Superman Family Adventures cartoon didn't happen, they were going to have Kenan and John Henry Irons in it! Would've been a dream come true for me to see Irons in animation again, and Kenan making the jump to outside media! Maybe that would've encouraged DC to let Yang keep writing New Super-Man, or at least encouraged them to use him elsewhere instead of allowing him fall into Limbo.

Unfortunately I'm not sure what the future holds for Kenan. Jon is being pushed as Clark's replacement in the comics, with DC keeping all the other contenders such as Kon benched. Calvin is leading the Justice Incarnate team likely due to the upcoming Coates reboot that will make Clark black. Val will probably get something once Taylor leaves Jon's book or once they officially announce the HBO Max show is happening. So where does that leave Kenan, my new favorite PoC legacy hero? Currently my only hope is that Yang is working on something for DC involving him. Yang left Batman/Superman, where I was hoping to see a Baxi/Kenan team up, to go work on "exciting other opportunities" per his Twitter. So fingers crossed that there's something in the works for Kenan!

One day I hope he gets his day in the sun again.

#kenan kong #new super man #gene yang #justice league of china #superman #dc comics

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ladyonfire28 · 4 years ago

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Came back from my little break for that new article ! Here is the translation of Adèle and Aïssa’s interview for Libération. It’s a very long, but very interesting one. So i recommend to read it. There may be a lot of incoherencies so please tell me if something doesn’t make sense !

Aïssa Maïga and Adèle Haenel : «Finally there’s something political happening»

They stood up together at the César and have since been striving to invent a common front against all forms of discrimination. For "Libération", actresses Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga retrace the journey of generational awareness.

Some kind of symbol. A large mural, in tribute to George Floyd, a 46-year-old black American who died on 25 May when he was arrested by a white policeman, and to Adama Traoré, who died at the age of 24 on the floor of the "caserne de Persan" (Val-d'Oise) following an arrest in 2016, was painted at the beginning of the week on the façade of a building in the 10th arrondissement of Paris. Close by, the Adama Committee organized a press conference on Tuesday. Words, demands and the announcement of a new march to fight against police violence. It takes place this Saturday in the capital, from the Place de la République to the Place de l'Opéra. The organizers dream of seeing a huge crowd come together. This demonstration comes at the heart of a tense period. Young people are demanding answers and action, while many police officers feel that the Minister of the Interior is letting his troops down in the face of the scolding.

In the street, we will find associations, politicians and many people. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga will be there. Not a first. They were already present on June 2nd at the rally in front of the Paris high court. The actresses didn't really know each other before the last César ceremony, marked by the speech of one and the shattering departure of the other. Since then, they have never left each other. Both describe the moment as a "turning point". The fights converge.

When the idea of a cross-exchange came on the table to put words to their commitments, they did not hesitate. On Thursday, in a roadstead near Belleville, Adèle Haenel arrived first, followed by Aïssa Maïga. They are not of the same generation, the journeys and paths are different. The styles too. The one who got up at the announcement of the prize awarded to Polanski goes up and down, talks with her body. The one who, at the same ceremony, invited to count the black people in the room appears calmer, stays seated on her chair, speaks in a low voice. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga complement each other.

From where are you speaking?

Adèle Haenel: I speak from my personal political background, rooted in feminism, a background that is shaken by the worldwide movement around police violence and by the French movement around the Adama Committee. I would say that taking charge of my own history has given me the ability to deal with other broader issues that do not immediately affect me. I'm talking about a kind of political awakening. This desire to show my support for the families of the victims, for the political movement against racism and police violence in France, and for the actors who take a stand. I'm thinking of Omar Sy, Camélia Jordana and you, Aïssa.

Aïssa Maïga: This intersectional awakening evoked by Adèle is a place where I have been for a long time without necessarily being able to name it. For a long time, the racial question in cinema was so pervasive in my life that it cannibalized everything else. I felt that it was less difficult to be a woman, in a world that discriminates women, than it was to be a black woman. The work done by Afrofeminists in France and abroad put the words in my mouth that I didn't have because I didn't have that heritage. I am speaking from a place that is on the move and that is not made up of certainties, that is made of interrogations, especially about the fact that I can implement changes on my own scale. And I'm also speaking from a place that is purely civic and is tinged with various influences. I didn't grow up in a poor suburb, I didn't live in financial precariousness, I come from a rather intellectual middle class, it gave me certain tools, and yet I haven't escaped this very French thing, a soft racism, rarely seen but which is haunting... because it's omnipresent.

Why did you get involved with the Adama Committee?

A.M.: Because this is a fight for justice. It was Assa Traoré who came to meet me during the release of the collective book Noire n'est pas mon métier ("Black is not my job"). I knew her from afar, I knew her struggle, and she appeared. The support became obvious and it has really taken shape in the last few months. I was immediately impressed by this woman, her quiet strength, and this ability to forge a bond, to think of her family drama in political terms. Her voice matters. She's not just an icon: she allows a movement to emerge.

A.H.: For me, it's even more recent, I had to go through a problem that was going through me, that involved my body in discrimination in order to mingle with other injustices. I was listening to what Assa Traoré was saying and I was struck by her determination and intelligence. But it is only very recently that I also became physically aware that I could not fail to support this woman and the whole fight against police violence and racism, in the same way that I am taking up the fight for feminism and against sexual violence. I can't have it two-tiered.

On June 2nd, more than 20,000 people gathered in front of the High Court of Paris, at the request of the Adama Committee. An unprecedented turnout, with many young people, why?

A.M.: The Adama Committee saw very well the link between George Floyd's drama and their own. The death of Adama Traoré, choked under three gendarmes, was materialized before our eyes with the unbearable images of Floyd's death. The French youth who look at these images cannot fail to make the connection, it is obvious. There is also a form of accessible activism that is developing via social networks. Activists will involve others through simple, accessible sentences: if you are not a POC, you are still involved, it is your responsibility to listen and take an active part, at your level, in the fight for equality. There is also the idea that we need to establish a link between police violence, the racism that can be found in other social spaces, the issue of gender equality, the environment, and the urgency of dealing with these problems now. There is also a form of anxiety among young people: they are told that in fifty years' time there will be no more water. And finally the feeling of injustice, which is omnipresent and linked to the circulation of images on social networks. Police violence follows one after the other, and this creates an accumulation effect. It is not just a dogmatic political vision, but a reality that is lived or perceived as real.

A.H.: There is a turning point in the effectiveness of the movement as well. This feeling carried by Assa Traoré that we are powerful. It's not just ideas that go around the world, it's ideas that make the world happen. It gives hope and responsibility to a whole generation.

During Aïssa's speech at the Césars, in which she confronts the profession with the near-invisibility of actors, filmmakers and producers from French overseas territories and African and Asian immigrants in French cinema, you are in the room, Adèle. You don't know each other yet. Do you understand her speech immediately?

A.H.: It's obvious, but it's not immediate, it takes a little time to understand the extent of the racist mechanism when you, yourself, haven't been forced to see how it works. I was brought back to particular assignments, but not to this one. So it takes a long time before it becomes unbearable evidence. When Aïssa takes the floor, it's courageous because the room is very cold and it's making it even colder. I thought it was funny and I thought "finally, something political is happening".

Did you both understand that people find it violent to count black people in the room, and even that they might find it paradoxical to split the audience?

A.M.: Counting isn't splitting, it's measuring the gap between us and equality. When it comes to inequality, to be blind to color is to be blind to the social burdens that come from our history and the imagination that flows from it. I am fighting for art and culture to deconstruct racial fictions. In our field, cinema, there is a tendency to believe that when a few exceptions appear, the problem of racial discrimination is solved. I do not think that my presence, that of Omar Sy, Ladj Ly or Frédéric Chau, Leïla Bekhti, for example, however gifted they may be, exonerates French cinema from an examination of conscience. There is always an over-representation of people perceived as non-white in roles with negative connotations - and it's not me saying this, it's the CSA, through its diversity barometer. There are still too few opportunities for younger people, who today in 2020 deplore what I deplored when I was starting out. Still too few non-whites behind the camera and almost no one in decision-making positions. I started this job when I was 20 years old. I am 45. A generation, not a few exceptions, should have risen. It hasn't. And it's unbearable as a citizen, a mother and an artist.

At the César ceremony, I deliberately used a inflammable symbol. If we refuse to measure differences in access to opportunities in terms of racial discrimination, perhaps we are accepting the status quo. Today, we need concrete action by decision-makers and numerical targets in order to measure progress. A few personal successes, however brilliant they may be, cannot justify the violence of large-scale unequal treatment.

A.H.: The substance of what Aïssa said to the César is relevant, it speaks to the moment, and being shocking has the virtue of awakening. The criticisms that followed were "I agree but"... In fact, it means that even when the substance is right, the form is never the right one. It's a form of censorship, there are people who have the right to speak and others who don't.

A.M.: Allowing oneself to express anger head-on is taboo because we are actresses and we are supposed to preserve the desire that others project on us. And also because it highlights the precarious nature of this profession: are you able to overcome your fear, to express your opinion, with the risk of losing something?

A.H.: From my point of view, that of a white woman - forgive me for putting myself in this position, but it's still unfortunately an assignment - I see that when I spoke about what happened to me personally, I received a lot of support, especially from people who are not especially on our side. However, as soon as I spoke up, politically, to say that giving the prize to a rapist fleeing from justice was an insult, all of a sudden I was really overstepping what I was entitled to do, what I could interfere in...

Do you think there's a "white privilege"?

A.M.: Words are so tricky...

A.H.: When Virginie Despentes uses the term "white privilege", it's a bit related to Aïssa's gesture when she counts the black people in the room. It's a question of pointing out, by calling up words that should be those of the past, the gap between the evolution of universalist ideals and the facts of manifest exclusion at work. Provocation points out this flaw and invites us to close it.

Is there state racism?

A.M.: I don't know about "state" racism, it would have to be written into the laws to say that. The right word is systemic: it means that there is something that does not allow for real equality, something in the established rules that allows a small number of people to discriminate without being worried. What also raises the question is the inertia of the state in the face of the continuation of systemic inequalities.

From what you say, we are at a turning point in the struggle against racial, gender, social and other forms of discrimination...

A.M.: I felt the turning point in 2018 with #MeToo, Time's Up, and when I saw all these women from such diverse backgrounds (in the streets) after Trump's election. It was an image I had never seen before in my generation. It was in the United States, and yet something happened to me in France, because I had been dreaming of this convergence for a long time. I'm not here to defend my chapel. I'm not going to be satisfied with a breakthrough if blacks have more roles while Arabs and Asians are still in a degraded situation in French cinema. The convergence I'm talking about didn't quite take place at the time of #MeToo, which quickly became a white women's movement in my eyes. In French cinema, there is also the "50-50 for 2020" movement [collective for parity and inclusion founded in 2018, editor's note] that I saw coming like the guerrilla movement we had been waiting for for a long time, pragmatic, quick, positively impatient, very constructive. The work done in favor of parity is colossal. On the other hand, I regret that diversity is the next program. But it cannot be the next program for me, that is the mistake. I've talked about it very openly, and frankly in a fairly relaxed way with some of them.

A.H.: Much more relaxed than I was, by the way!

A.M.: And then I said to myself that the battles are progressing on different levels and that we're going to have to find some kind of alignment. The fight for women's rights is not just a women's issue, it's a men's issue, just as the fight against racism is not just about POC. And it wasn't until 2020 and the murder of George Floyd that there were those voices, especially white voices, that said, "This is my problem too." Including in France, where this awakening of consciousness is made possible by the work done by the families of victims of police violence.

A.H.: In my political journey so far, I had forgotten to understand the places where I am not just in a situation of domination. I am also, as a white woman who is not in a precarious position, in a dominant position in certain aspects. Understanding that, feeling that, is essential. My political agenda was focused on feminism, and I didn't realize that it was implicitly white feminism, unintentionally excluding. What Aïssa says seems fundamental to me: the agenda that would order one cause after another is not conceivable and leads to inertia. It leagues us against each other in identity issues that are sterile, since they reiterate the terms of oppression. This is a major issue in the effectiveness of political struggles: how can we mobilize without reiterating the categorization we are fighting against? This implies understanding that there is a deep articulation between all systems of domination and that there is a need to defend these causes in a cross-cutting manner.

Aïssa's speech on June 2nd, during the demonstration initiated by the Adama Committee, called for a fair, dignified and positive representation of minorities in the media. But who can judge what is dignified and fair? Only the ones who are affected ?

A.H.: Today, in France, female characters in films are implicitly white women: I have a much wider range of possible jobs than that offered to a black actress. But in my field of so-called universal women, very often, women are offered satellite roles around male characters. These roles take up what is considered to be the normal white female nature, of restraint and reification. What appears natural here is a cultural construction of identity that is done precisely through stories. This is one of the reasons why the political stakes of representations in the cinema are so important.

Is this a criterion for assessing or rejecting a work? What should be done with existing works that have been reassessed as problematic?

A.H.: Works must be recontextualized. They are not created out of nowhere, out of time. Let's question them! That doesn't mean that we stop watching them, but that we ask ourselves what their political substratum is and what they convey. Questioning representations is a sign of vitality. And that does not mean that we would no longer have the right to see these works.

A.M.: With this waltz of statues of slavery figures in the United States or in the French overseas departments at the moment, the citizens gives their answer. Either the work must be contextualized, in a museum or in a place with a historical explanatory note, or it must stand out.

Is it women, more willingly than men, who carry this convergence of fights ?

A.M.: I feel a change in the scale of our lives, a major turning point in the way we perceive each other and allow ourselves to hybridize in these battles. Regarding the massive presence of women from cinema in front of the High Court on June 2, I wonder. In particular about my own capacity to build bridges... while guaranteeing the visibility of the fights against discrimination against women or POC. How do we ensure that the fight against discrimination, for equality and equity, is as visible as the rest? I am not at all sure how to do this. But it has to be done. When, the day after the César, I received a text message from Adèle, even though we don't know each other, and she writes to me to say "I heard you. I'm here. Let's meet", it can be as simple as that.

Why did you send that text?

A.H.: Because of the solitude in this room. And the brave gesture of saying what she said on stage. We'd met the same evening and maybe I hadn't caught the moment, I was captivated by our own event... That is, what had happened after we'd, let's say..., gone to get our coats a bit earlier in the dressing room... (Aïssa Maïga laughs) And I thought, let's not forget the constructed gesture, the political intentionality of Aïssa in there. I wanted to get closer to her courage. So I think that we shouldn't talk about masculinity by saying "men", that we should consider masculinity as a field of organization of power with its own complexities, and its intersectional repercussions. I refer to Angela Davis' book, Women, Race & Class, on the issue of the difficult articulation between the civil rights movement in the United States and the emerging white feminist movements where there was a lot of racism. Why don't we think of ourselves as spontaneous and necessary allies between categories of discrimination, racial, social and gendered? We need to take the history of this division seriously in order to work on it and overcome it. As Assa Traoré does in an ultra-intelligent way when she says "Whatever your religion, your sexual orientation, wherever you come from, whatever your skin color". It is an invitation to self-criticism of our own movement. This is my discovery at the beginning of this year: the self-criticism of my history as a white feminist.

When you get up during the César, is it thoughtful or impulsive?

A.H.: This award was a claim to the right to do whatever you want as long as you are at the top. That is to say: rich white men who don't feel concerned when we talk about violence. What it means beyond sexual violence is that there are people to whom repressive laws do not apply. It's as if the police and the laws shouldn't act against them, but around them... And that's what you feel in that moment in the room. What happened on César night was a dissolution of the status quo. Now it's either you stay in the room or you don't stay in the room.

A.M.: And it was important to be there at the César, because I read a lot about boycotting that evening, but for me there was no question of backing out. A boycott is not just staying at home behind your television, not being there without anyone really noticing. It was important to say that the home of cinema is also our home, our space, our place of expression. We are in a position to speak out and for that to have the virtue of provoking discussion. When that person wins that award, it's the time of the turkey, where someone praises the rapist grandfather, when everyone knows. And you're breathless, you can't move, time becomes elastic, everything is extremely heavy, it's unreal. You enter another dimension. And the fact that a person manages to regain possession of time, to become master of their time and master of their body by standing up and saying no, it put oxygen back in, it woke us up. Adèle and I looked at each other two or three times during the evening, we knew we were together. There was something like a physical experience. We boarded the ship together.

We're spotting the allies.

A.M.: That's right. And time returned to normal when Adèle, Céline Sciamma and others, including me, got up. It was a coherent political gesture in which many people recognized themselves.

Do you think that your political positions, formalized at the César, can have an impact on your career?

A.M.: The question is how do you break a family secret? Festen is one of my favorite films. (Laughs) I wasn't born at the time of the 2020 César, it's the result of a personal journey and a legacy. Others before me have spoken, for example Luc Saint-Eloy and Calixthe Beyala on the same issues at the Césars in 2000. When Canal + and the César invited me to come and give an award, I said "yes, but I want complete freedom". Blowing up a family secret is a movement for self-liberation, it's an essential meeting with yourself. Choosing to be on the side of silence, of the status quo and therefore of injustices with full knowledge of the facts is something I was quite incapable of doing. The consequences for one's profession are not that one doesn't care, but spitting out what one has to say is a top priority. The question of what it is going to cost behind it is resolved by the feeling of freeing the word, provoking debate, making a generational contribution to the fight for equality, which in essence concerns us all. I have an appointment with myself around 60, 65, the age when my children will be about the same age as I am today. There is something about transmission. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror. I don't want to tell myself that I haven't taken advantage of my little privilege of being a POC exception in French cinema to the detriment of all those young people I meet on the street, who aren't white and who say to me with fear in their stomachs, "Do you think I can still do this job?"

What about you, Adèle?

A.H.: The message that was sent to me very clearly by a casting director is that I will never work again. Obviously, this person was very sure of himself, since he wrote it in print capital letters about a dozen times. What do you say when you ask for respect and silence? They say, "Don't speak out politically because it's not your role". But also: "Don't take the lead artistically either because you're an actress, you have to follow the genius of your director". This whole structure is part of this culture where you shouldn't listen to yourself but to submit. I don't know what the consequences will be for my job. What is certain is that I will never regret it. We did something that night that freed the voices of a lot of people. That is worth much more than all the threats to my career, which in any case is always fragile, because it is a precarious environment. If I totally respected the rules and said, "Yes, yes, you have to separate the man from the artist", that wouldn't stop me from being able to get out of the game. It's as much about inventing one's life as trying to open up the future.

Written by Cécile Daumas , Rachid Laïreche and Sandra Onana. Photo by Lucile Boiron

#adèle haenel #aïssa maïga #adele haenel #aissa maiga #portrait of a lady on fire #that was a very great read #can i just say i gasped when aïssa mentioned Festen #it's an incredible movie !!!#portrait de la jeune fille en feu #libération #sometimes i translate things #long text #black lives matter #blm

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letsgivethisonemoreshot · 4 years ago

Text

Thing For You

Word Count: 1,840

Warnings: Mentions of sexual situations, rape, bdsm aspects

Summary: While at a friend's party, Valerie runs into the one person she hopes she would never have to see again.

Author's Note: I have always loved this song, since I first heard it. One day while listening, my brain decided to turn it from a romantic loving song, to a sadistic scary song. Hope you enjoy this take on Hinder's Thing For You.

Valerie walked into the banquet hall in her dark green dress and was in awe of her surroundings. Her friend Michelle had just gotten engaged, and her parents being wealthy and high society wanted to throw her an engagement party. But this engagement party had well over one hundred guests, all dressed in cocktail attire. Servers were walking around with appetizers and champagne. There was a DJ and it was decorated beautifully. She couldn't even imagine what the wedding itself would look like.

She walked through the sea of people until she found some that she recognized. They were standing off to the side of the dance floor, drink in hand talking. She joined in their conversation, talking and laughing. She was also scanning the room looking for Michelle. While searching, she found another group of friends that she knew, and among them was a man that she was hoping she wouldn't see tonight. She was hoping that maybe he hadn't seen her, but before she could look away his crystal blue eyes locked onto hers. He had left the group he was talking to and walked over to the one where Valerie was and greeted everyone with a charming smile.

Valerie hadn't really known him. The only time she had really ever seen him was at group outings. He was a very attractive man. He was in great shape. His dark hair and facial hair was a contrast to his light eyes. And having only been in the United States for a few years he had a very thick Irish accent. She was surprised when he asked her during a party if she would like to go to dinner with him one night. It gave her the feeling of having butterflies in her stomach. But now when she saw him her stomach turned for other reasons.

Valerie excused herself to go and find Michelle while everyone else continued on with their conversations. As she was weaving around the people on the dance floor she felt someone grab her upper arm causing her to turn around, bringing her face to face with the one person she didn't want to see.

"Hey Val." He greeted.

"Oh, hey Finn." Valerie got out.

"I was hoping I'd see you here." He said with a smile.

"I didn't think you'd be here. I didn't know you were still close with Michelle."

Finn shrugged. "Eh, I'm not really. But I hang out with Trevor and the guys a lot. So here I am."

"Well you have a good time tonight with them. I'm going to go try and find Michelle." Valerie said trying to end the conversation.

He still had his hand wrapped around her arm. When she tried to take a step back, his grip tightened to stop her.

"She's outside schmoozing her future in-laws." Finn told her. "Not really the kind of thing you'd want to interrupt. So what do you say in the meantime you share a dance with me? It's been a while."

"I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that very much." Valerie answered quickly.

"Oh? Where is he?" Finn asked. He had noticed that she had arrived by herself, and no other man had come and joined her since she had been there.

"He had to work." She answered trying not to stutter.

"Shame. I would have loved to meet him. But since he's not here we can share one dance. What he won't know won't hurt him." Finn stated with a smile.

"Yeah, but it might hurt me." Valerie mumbled under her breath without thinking.

He yanked on her arm pulling her in closer to him and snaked his arm around her waist. His smile seemingly switched from nice and charming to devilish in a matter of seconds. "Oh, I'm counting on it."

A slow song began to play over the speakers. He released her arm and wrapped his arm around her back along with the other one and slowly started to sway to the music. The sounded sweet and romantic on the surface, but if you really listened to the words, that was not the case.

"Kind of a strange song to play at an engagement party." Valerie pointed out recognizing the song. Also trying to make normal conversation hoping these few minutes would pass quickly. Unfortunately for her, his answer just made her more uneasy.

"I requested it."

Well now that it's morning

Where do you want to go from here

Well now that we're sober

Are your thoughts of me more clear

Oh yeah

Now that your head is right

Did you dig last night

It keeps playing in my mind

Cuz girl I got a thing for you

And I think it's kind of crazy

Cuz I know that you have someone true

Wondering where you were last night

For now we'll say goodbye

But don't think we're through

I got a thing for you

The lyrics sent a shiver down her spine. They were bringing her back to the night she went out with Finn. They had gone out to dinner. They were talking and getting along really well through the night. At the time, she wasn't sure what happened, she had only had one glass of wine during dinner but the next thing she knew she was in Finn's bedroom. She didn't remember agreeing to go back to his place or how she even got there. She had no intention of sleeping with him that night. It was only their first date and they were just only getting to know each other. But he clearly had other plans.

She remembered coming out of her daze with him standing in the doorway watching her. She didn't think she would have to worry about leaving the table to use the restroom on their date, but she had been wrong. Whatever he had given her was just enough to make her loopy enough for him to get her home. From there he would wait. He didn't want her knocked out. He wanted her to feel and experience everything. She quickly realized he wasn't going to let her leave. She begged and pleaded with him that she would do whatever he wanted as long as he didn't hurt her. But that wasn't in his plans either. He took pleasure in hurting people. The more they begged, the more they screamed, the rougher he got, and the more he enjoyed it.

She remembered back to that night, him giving her just enough slack in the restraints to fight back, but not enough to get away. She remembered how he'd laugh at her attempts to do so. She remembered trying so hard not to scream or react to anything knowing that's what he wanted, but he did whatever he could to make her.

Well now that you're home

Will he be the first thing that you see

I know you'll compare us

How does he match up next to me

Oh yeah

Now that your head is right

Did you dig last night

It keeps playing in my mind

Cuz girl I got a thing for you

And I think it's kind of crazy

Cuz I know that you have someone true

Wondering where you were last night

After that night, Valerie hadn't dated anyone in a while. She wasn't sure who she could trust anymore. When she finally did start dating her boyfriend, she would only meet up with him in public places, never let anything she would eat or drink out of her sight, and would never let him take her home. She had told him that she had been attacked, so he understood and worked with her. It took her a long time before she was comfortable enough to be intimate with him. She was worried about how she would react to being with someone again. Worried to have to show him the scars she had on her body.

So girl I got a thing for you

And I know that night was hazy

But I still remember waking up

And kissing your head one more time

For now we'll say goodbye

But don't think we're through

I got a thing for you

She remembered laying in his bed when he was done with her. She was untied, physically free, but she wasn't able to get away. She was in too much pain to move. She quietly sobbed, hugging herself, trying to will the strength to get up. He had crawled into the bed and laid down beside her. He draped his arm over her pulling her close against him and gently kissed the back of her head. The gentleness of him now after everything he had just done made her want to crawl out of her skin.

She should have forced herself to get up, to run away, to try and get help. But she just couldn't. Even if she fought through the pain, the truth was, as disgusted as she was by him, she was even more scared. She knew what he was capable of just because he wanted to, who knows what would have happened when he was angry. And she was sure with how he was around all of their friends that no one would believe her over him.

Finn holding her close to him, feeling her body pushed up against his, she felt trapped again. She didn't want to push him away and cause a scene. And she wasn't even sure she would be able to if she tried. She looked up at him, his eyes peering down onto her. The icy blue color matched the coldness of his heart. He moved his hands around slightly around her lower back. He brushed up against a spot by her side where she had a heart shaped scar, caressing it. She winced when he found it. He kept a small knife in his nightstand, to brand the ones he really liked. He would cut into them so deep that they would never be able to heal properly. Then they knew that they would always be his, and that at some point he would be back. Valerie knew that she couldn't have been the only one, she just didn't know how many there were. She often wondered if that is why he left Ireland or if why some of the people she knew had moved away.

As the song was coming to an end, she tried to gather whatever courage she could.

"Okay Finn, that was your dance. I really have to go try to find Michelle now." She said trying to sound strong.

His arms were still wrapped around her, hands placed on her back. He wasn't holding her there tightly, but he still wasn't letting her back away. Not until the song was over, not until he was ready.

"Thank you for the wonderful dance Val. And don't worry, I'll be seeing you again soon."

For now we'll say goodbye

But don't think we're through

I got a thing for you

#finn balor #finn balor one shot #finn balor fanfiction #finn balor imagine #wwe fanfiction #prince devitt

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vampiresuns · 4 years ago

Text

Manmarziyan | Haider x Anatole

✴︎ 5.3k words. The Earth has no option but to orbit the Sun, and Sun has no choice but to shine on Earth — only it is a choice, one that Haider and Anatole cannot keep pretending they do not make.

Haider belongs to @atypicalacademic. CWs: contains mentions of 🍋, though it’s not 🍋

Translations, courtesy of Kani: Priyo - darling, Amar shona - my love, Amar Jibon - love of my life.

Title song: Manmarziyan - from the Lootera OST.

Anatole had been learning about the different religions and belief systems of the world since he was little. From mythologies to now-a-days-religions, he found the subject fascinating, even if he didn’t have a personal sense of religious faith. He had done so with Amparo’s and her grandparents, with Milenko, his mothers and his uncle Blasio, and he had done so with his great grandfather’s one.

The belief system Valerian had been raised in had common motifs with others, but it was a little different to what Anatole was used to. He didn’t quite understand this Death of theirs very much, even though Valerian had told him neither did he when he was his age. However, it made up for being the most confusing with having the best stories around it, in Anatole’s opinion.

One of Anatole’s favourites was the story of the Sun and the Earth.

The Earth had become enchanted with how beautiful the Sun was. Though it understood the Sun could not always be around —that the object of its affections being gone was necessary so green could grow on Earth, for the Rain too was a blessing— being apart from it was unbearable.

Thus, the Earth came up with a way to always be close to the Sun. The Earth shook itself and roared until from its flats it created mountain ranges all over the world, each of them competing with each other to see which one would be the tallest, and the closest to the Sun. The Mountains were divine and magnificent, beautiful and awe inspiring, commanders of great respect.

And just like the Earth had aimed for, some of them had grown so high they could pierce the clouds.

So the Earth told the Sun: “I did this so we could be together.”

To which the Sun told the Earth: “My foolish beloved! Doing all of this when I shine on you so we can be together. I nurture your plants and I shine on your oceans so I can be with you, and you with me. I have never left you.”

The Earth didn’t understand. It thought the Sun had not liked it’s gift. When the Earth said as much, the Sun laughed.

It told the Earth: “I do love your gift. Not loving your gift would mean I do not love you.”

The Sun cradled the Earth in its hands and with a kiss it said: “And you’ll find not loving you is something impossible to me.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

His knock on the door was answered with a distracted ‘come in’ from the other side. His uncle was barefoot, curled up in one of his sofas, reading a book, his reading glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. Anatole called for his attention, and he lifted his index.

“I am almost done with this chapter, Aelius.”

Anatole waited, trying not to fidget too much — his uncle always noticed his fidgeting. Other people could take it as talking with his hands, thinking, or impatience, but not Valeriy. Fooling his uncle was as difficult as his uncle fooling him. Instead, he occupied his hands looking at the volumes in his personal parlour’s library, until he heard Valerius close the book and fold his glasses away.

“Sorry, Aelius, I did not want to lose my track, and this book is very interesting.”

“Is it the one about the art smugglers you told me about last week?”

“Very much so. I finally had time to put my hands on it again — wine, dear nephew? I want to see what your coffee-ruined taste buds have to say about my first experimental batch.”

Anatole indulged him. When he was his private self, Anatole had a very hard time denying his uncle. Especially now that their relationship had improved significantly after it’s mishaps, and he was ever so eager to have his opinion on things. Like he did when he was young, and prepared to fight every Prakran and Balkovian political office to have his nephew working with him.

“What is it?” He asked as he poured some wine into a glass. “We’ve both established I cannot lie to you, because you notice, and you cannot lie to me, because I notice. So better get out with it instead you pretend it’s nothing.”

“I need a favour.”

“Who in the Court do I need to have a chat with?”

Anatole laughed, accepting the glass of wine when he was sure he wouldn’t spill it. “Nothing like that, this is personal.”

“Go on. Don’t clam up now, sit with me and give me something I can tease you about.”

He hesitated for a moment, exhaling slowly, biding his time to make up the courage to just say it. His uncle raised an eyebrow at him. “Out with it. Unless you poisoned someone, nothing you say can be worse than something I’ve done, so do go on.”

“Val.”

“Tsk, don’t worry about me, and don’t ‘Val’ me. What is it?”

Right, better get on with it. “I wanted to know if you could help me find a painting by Thasveer Wazim.”

His uncle looked clearly surprised, putting his glass down, and curling his fingers against his own lips. “Wanting to start your own collection?”

“It’s a gift for someone else.”

“Why haven’t I met him? Or them?”

Anatole made a non-committal gesture and Valerius actually laughed.

“You began going out with your someone, who must either have a streak for Zadithi painters or is actually related to Wazim, and you didn’t plan to take it this far, but now you’re scarily fond of them”.

Anatole tapped the side of his nose. “Like a fool.”

“You’re a lot of things, but not a fool. Who is it then? I will spare myself the comments about his suitability for you, but I will not spare myself the remarks. If we’re going on a little hunt on auction houses and private collectors, at the very least tell me his or their name.”

“His,” Anatole paused. “It’s his son.”

“You fell in love with the line of an overthrown aristocrat,” Valerius laughed again, and Anatole threw a small cushion at him, which he caught.

“How charming of you,” the comment made Anatole roll his eyes. “What’s his occupation now?”

“He owns a restaurant.”

“From riches to rags, but well, my great grandmother was a smuggler.”

“And your grandmother, a partisan.”

Valerius winced. “Don’t remind me.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Anatole had known Haider Wazim for around a year, they'd been sleeping together for 11 months, and they still hadn’t made anything official, even if they both had agreed that in a month, they’d do something for the year mark. Haider wanted to take Anatole to his studio in the Catclaw desert. Anatole has been in love with Haider Wazim for around 9 months and three weeks, and he still hasn’t told him.

He was already aware how much of a bad idea it was continuing to keep it to himself, as he was aware his ‘casual’ arrangement had absolutely backfired, and given how Haider was, it was questionable if it was ever meant to work. He knew. He lived with that knowledge every day, every time they touched with a little more meaning, every time the sentiments and intentions in Haider’s words drew past his barriers. Because yes, Anatole could use his magic to check on Haider’s feelings, but he felt like it would be an intromision. If Haider wanted him in any other way than sexual, with the added benefit of the pleasure of his company, he would’ve said something, right?

What Anatole didn’t need right now was his friends and cousins questioning his logic. He knew.

“My guy, listen,” Leonore said, clicking his mouth, “you are the smartest person I know but I also think you’re being purposefully daft, like proper, massive stupid.”

“I hate to agree with him—”

“Aw. Asra, you warm my heart.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, I know Haider, and I think there’s a chance you’re both acting the same way because no one has said anything. Anatole I’m not going to tell you what to do, but don’t you think it would be better to just say it?”

“He might not, but I will,” Amparo said, “so I compel you to say something. You both are pining, he is acting like your official date, and you’re the Consul. Don’t you think it’s better to clear that up?”

“There’s nothing to clear up, it’s not like I’m madly in love with him or whatever.”

“You know, you are amazing at redirecting topics when you don’t want to answer something, and you might be good at doing the Diplomatic vague statements at work,” Medea said, tenderness in her voice, tenderness that shifted into an accusation as she poked her finger at his chest, “but you suck at doing it with yourself.”

One of the Palazzo’s staff cleared their throat, telling Anatole Haider was looking for him.

“I asked if there was anything I could do for him, and he asked about you, sir.”

“Right, right, I’ll be right back, I’ll find him, thank you.”

Once he and his friends were alone again, he was met with no nonsense stares from all Leonore, Medea, Asra, Amparo and Milenko. The latter snorted.

“I don’t remember your non-official affairs, the non presented to the public, the ‘oh, I’m doing this one for me’ deals to have the power to summon you through your staff. How was it Amparo?”

Amparo’s impression of Anatole had always been good. She cleared her throat. “‘Wait until everyone is gone, and then we’ll attend to each other, does that work for you?’”

“Oh, fuck off. Fine, fine, fine, I’ll tell him soon enough okay? Gods, you’re all terrible.”

“We love you, and we don’t want you to be hurt, or sad, especially by your own hand when there’s no reason.”

“You don’t know that, Amparo, I don’t know that.”

“May the moon hold me tenderly in the face of stubborn asses,” she said, “what happened to the brutally hopeful man I knew in my cousin?”

“Oh, I never said I didn’t hope, I said I didn’t know.”

“Smartass.”

“Oh, my, it might be that we are related, Amparo Elira.”

She stuck out her tongue at him as he straightened his clothes from imaginary wrinkles, finding a mirror to freshen himself up some, evaluating his look.

“I can feel you all looking at me, and no, this isn’t because I’m about to see Haider.”

“Stop lying,” Leonore said, walking in circles and extending the final g. “I already have enough of your betrayals with you picking up his pronunciation on rasgullas.”

After Anatole was gone, they all stayed behind a bit longer. Amparo was the first to break the silence, asking if they all wanted to bet that Anatole would not actually have the conversation with Haider. As bets came and went, Milenko remained quiet. He disagreed: Anatole would have the conversation with Haider, because he was terrible at lying to himself. He was fairly sure Haider felt the same way about him, too.

However, they would have the conversation at the worst possible time. “Trust the Earth to be as stubborn as the Sun,” he said with a sarcastic snort.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

In his defence, Anatole did try to have the conversation with Haider. He didn’t try very hard, but he tried. It just so happened that he hated to admit it, because it meant he would have to deal with feelings he didn’t precisely want to deal with outside of himself — the possibility of being rejected if he wanted something more, twisted him up too much. He had tried battling with it, reasoning with it, and just letting it past and taking assertive action and it still loomed over him.

His friends were aware, his family was aware. Haider had met his parents last November, for Anatole’s birthday. They both had mentioned how happy they were for Anatole, that he had found someone who loved him so transparently. When their son told them this wasn’t that kind of relationship, if it was a relationship at all, they both exchanged concerned looks.

His mother had said: “Oh, honey,” and gave him a pat on the cheek.

Anatole never introduced people he was ‘just sleeping with’ to his family. Ever. He didn’t let those people become part of his routine, he didn’t let them take care of him, he very specifically never subbed for them in sex, because while he did enjoy it from time to time, it required him to feel safe in order to even consider the possibility. Haider had done all of that without even being his boyfriend yet.

They were celebrating anniversaries without being boyfriends yet. Maybe he was a fool.

In his defence, he had tried. He had tried during said not-anniversary trip and failed catastrophically. He had planned to say ‘Haider, I believe we need to talk’. He had said: “Haider, I want you” instead. When Haider grabbed him, lifting him by putting his hands under his thighs, Anatole had wrapped his legs around his waist instead of stopping any of them to have the dreaded conversation.

In his defence, Haider was a very good kisser. In his defence, it was very hard not to be tangled in each other. They had begun seeing each other merely because they thought they were hot and flirting was nice and came easy between them. Anatole had a mental catalogue of looks he found positively indecent that Haider had thrown him — categorised alphabetically, by situation, and by date — and he knew he had thrown Haider some which were equally disrespectful.

He had also said Haider had an ass like those very thick and fluffy pancakes, and given a dreamy whistle about other bits of Haider more than once. Like his arms, or his lips. Or his dick if he was going to be honest.

The first morning of their not-anniversary Catclaw trip, Haider had made him breakfast, Anatole had asked why he was always so good to him, Haider replied “Oh, you know why”. Anatole had gotten him a variety of art supplies and a couple of sketching notebooks as a present, when Haider asked, his reply was the same. It’s what they always said when any of them wanted to say ‘because I love you’ but back tracked on it. Both of them blissfully unaware they were doing the exact same thing.

He had spent the weekend doing some short hikes and looking at the stars with him — or looking at his hand while Haider pointed at things. When they weren’t acting like a couple, Anatole was too busy putting Haider to his knees. So, once again, in his defence, he was distracted.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Anatole rolled around the bed finding a cold spot to put his feet against, bundling himself up in sheets that weren’t his own. He was still too asleep to register the hour, or the lack of Haider at the other side of the bed, let alone the smells or sounds coming from the kitchen.

He almost registered it but sleep won, his mind going to his private, faraway dreamland as he slept naked in Haider’s bed, even if mornings like this were on themselves a dream.

He would only fully open his eyes a quarter to ten, half complaining about Haider kneeling by the bed and giving him small, light kisses, and fully complaining when Haider tried to move again, dragging him back to the bed with him.

“You’re my prisoner now,” he mumbled, groggy.

“What about your willing captive?”

Haider’s fingers had begun tracing figures over his spine.

“Hm, you can’t say things like that so early in the morning, or I’ll end up saying very compromising things.”

Haider chuckled, pressing a kiss to the crown of Anatole’s head. “Why?”

“You know why.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

When he returned to work on Tuesday, Medea raised an eyebrow at him.

“I promise I will talk with him, alright?”

After that she dropped the topic, more interested in knowing if her friend had had a good trip rather than telling him what to do.

Anatole had always danced around people he wanted until he knew he could make a strategic move without stepping on false, prone to collapsing ground. Furthermore, this wasn’t the first time Medea has seen him do this dance where feelings were reciprocated but no one did anything. It had happened with Leonore’s older brother, Navneet, it had happened with Julian Devorak. Medea has known Anatole for 10 years. The preliminary dance wasn’t surprising.

However, both those instances had their reasons not to prosper, finding friendship in the two men instead of a romantic relationship, and they didn’t last as long as the Haider dance was lasting. Granted, one could argue the Navneet one had lasted a couple of years, but once Anatole had become aware of it, it burned and crashed in three months, both parties moving on with their lives.

This was an abnormally long dance.

During the two months after their getaway, Anatole’s job got in the way. It seemed more busy than usual, giving him little respite for anything outside of it. When he did get some of those blissful moments, he preferred winding down rather than having emotionally charged and stressful conversations. He loved his job, but it was requiring a lot of his attention, and Anatole wasn’t sure if he would be able to be at his best capacity if everything went wrong with Haider now.

Something inside him asked about the possibility it went right. Then, Anatole thought, it wouldn’t be a problem, but he would prefer to gamble with the scenario when he wasn’t about to leave on a diplomatic trip.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Along the same time Anatole was supposed to be on his diplomatic trip, Haider would be visiting his family for three weeks. Anatole would be close enough to make a detour and see Haider, if he wanted to; given both their travelling schedules, if Anatole took a week after his work trip was done, he could return to Vesuvia with Haider.

He wanted Haider to want him to be a part of his life to that point, he wanted what they already had but without the weight of yearning and the domesticity between them. He wanted to hear stories from his childhood from his grandparents, and he wanted to have the option to wear one of his scarves or shirts to work, because they shared a room, because they shared all of them with each other. His issue was he had no excuse to shimmy himself into it, nor he felt he had a right to meet Haider’s family, even if he would love to.

He’d do anything for Haider. He didn’t know how it made him feel.

Around two weeks before he left, Haider and him were standing close to each other, Haider hugging Anatole from behind, both of them swaying to imaginary music. Haider’s thumbs went back and forth over Anatole’s sides, making him want to feel them over his naked skin.

When Haider began asking about his work trip, he didn’t expect him to ask what he himself had not dared to suggest, the words echoing in Anatole’s head and his heart on his throat.

“If you wanted, you could make a detour and stay with us. I know it’s not wise, and out of place for me to ask, but I’d love you to meet—”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll go. I’d love to go.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Nadia’s green light was both a relief and a nightmare. The former because he would hate to make Haider hope for something and then take it back. Anatole wasn’t someone who took, he was someone who delivered and was proud of it. The latter because he would meet Haider’s family despite them being formally nothing.

Natiqa didn’t miss a chance to tease him as soon as she was informed she would be delivering a written report on Anatole’s behalf to her sister. Also involved in the trip as a diplomatic envoy, Anatole’s old acquaintance took more than one chance to remind Anatole of the Vesuvian saying about Consuls and their spouses.

“Don’t you say that ‘good Counts make their Consul their friend, while good Consuls keep a happy marriage in their beds’?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anatole said without looking up from the report he was writing.

“Given that began with your family one would think you do.”

“We’re not together, Tiqa.”

“Nana, you’re meeting his family.”

“I know.”

Though she made a few more jokes at his stake — which was fair, Anatole thought — all she said on the matter was she was there if he wanted to talk. “Even if I haven’t forgiven you for preferring the Vesuvian Court to working with me, but we are still friends, Radošević, because I’m gracious like that.”

Out of time crunches, they didn’t quite get around that chat but Anatole appreciated it all the same. Soon came the time they had to depart, Anatole handing her the full volume of his preliminary Diplomatic report to Nadia before hugging Natiqa good-bye.

“You’re adorable, Radošević, I’ve never met anyone with more worries, and Nadia’s my sister.”

“I don’t know how to take that.”

“As a compliment.”

As Natiqa embarked herself in a Vesuvian-bound ship, she turned away to yell at him: “You’re a great catch, Radošević, anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot!”

Her cat-like, dastardly grin was all the confirmation he needed to know she had done that on purpose.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

The trip towards Haider and his family was uneventful. Anatole occupied most of his time reading for leisure, or finding things to occupy the passing hours with. It was an 8 hours ride, the distance too short to merit taking a ship there. He arrived past sunset but before the night fully settled in.

Haider was waiting for him, wearing a sky blue scarf that contrasted with his mahogany eyes and his black hair. Anatole didn’t think of it twice, running towards Haider on impulse. He caught him in his arms and spun them around while they hugged. He didn’t let Anatole go when they stopped spinning.

“Can I kiss you hello?”

“After not having seen you in so many weeks, I surely would hope you did.”

Haider, as always, indulged him.

He offered to help carry his things inside, Anatole joking about how he should be thankful he was only carrying two trunks. His third one along with the rest of his things — except for his sword — had gone back to Vesuvia with Natiqa. Anatole accepted the offer, but not before taking a piece of chalk out of his bag and writing a series of glyphs over his luggage. He took a deep breath before putting his hands over each inscription and releasing, the words shimmering and disappearing into the material of the trunks, imbuing themselves in it. Haider couldn’t help staring, marvelling at this facet of Anatole.

When they both lifted the trunks, they were almost weightless.

“Comes in handy, doesn’t it?”

Haider and him exchanged talk about their specific journeys, what the former had been up to with his family, and how Anatole’s work trip had gone, as well as his trip there.

The closer they got to the house, the more nervous he got.

“They will love you, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You always frown in the same way when you’re nervous.”

“And how’s that?”

“As if someone had put some really atrocious ensemble together but you were obliged by politeness to not say anything. Something that’s awful in a non-charming way.”

“That’s certainly one way of putting it. It’s just— it’s just I haven’t met anyone’s parents in a very long time, that’s all.”

What he didn’t say was: What will be the use of them loving me, if there’s a possibility you might not. Not how I’d like.

They were inside now; it was too late to turn back.

“Everyone, this is Aelius Anatole, my— I mean, the Consul of Vesuvia.”

“Hi,” Anatole said, with his most confident smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

That might have become the most delightful week of Anatole’s life and he still hadn’t had the conversation with Haider, his excuse now being it was a terrible idea to have such a discussion during a trip.

Haider’s family was lovely. Lively and colourful, a myriad of humbled aristocrats and bohemians who had preferred a life lived with others, for others and for art in its many forms, than a life of privilege. In so many ways it reminded him of his own, with its mismatched ends and its stories that seemed almost like legends of their own.

There was also Haider. So much of him, under the sun and under the moonlight, clothed and unclothed, in the privacy of their bedroom and in furtive looks stolen when they thought no one else could see. There was Haider and the water, Haider and the kites, Haider and his hands on him, and his lips on his own.

There was him on the veranda, trying to do mehendi on Anatole’s hands and there was them ruining it on accident, too overtaken by craving each other. Most of the paste had ended up on Haider’s skin, but some had on his kurta too. No one had come to retrieve them, so they had no reason to stop. Wasn’t it always like that anyway? Once they began, they couldn’t stop, too much unsaid between them as always, too many things to act on?

Anatole did not regret missing dinner. He was too busy riding Haider in the veranda. He didn’t even mind when, later that night, they both were having dinner in the kitchen, wrapped around each other and looking like a mess of disheveled clothes and henna stains when Haider’s grandfather walked in. Haider had felt compelled to explain themselves, which ended up being more embarrassing than anything else, since Asghar clearly did not buy into Haider’s ‘I was showing him around and Anatole tripped’ excuse.

His cousin Shaan had walked into the kitchen to get some water right when Haider was explaining, though he stayed until Asghar was gone to make any comments.

He took a look at them, and gave them a sly, cheeky look. “Yeah, I’m sure there’s plenty to see.”

Haider’s blush intensified, but Anatole raised an eyebrow at him, a cat-like grin on his face. “I don’t know,” he said, nonchalant as could be, throwing a look at Haider’s chest, “I’ve seen that before, so not really.”

Shaan laughed, stating he liked Anatole and asking if they could keep him. Anatole didn’t say how, if Haider wanted to, he’d stay forever.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

Anatole should’ve known his incapacity to say anything to Haider would come back to bite him on the ass. He had slept in — courtesy of not having had a vacation in a while and staying up until a little too late with Haider. Their pillow-talk had drawn out to the point of becoming another round, so they didn’t go to bed until two am. Haider was gone with Shaan and some of the others in the morning, having left a note and breakfast for him, telling him to enjoy a lay in as much as he wanted.

Haider came back around lunchtime, walking into the kitchen to find Anatole helping prepare it, looking worried in the way he always did when he tried to pretend whatever which troubled him wasn’t important. He looked that way all over lunch, and he continued to do so when Anatole pulled him away into their shared bedroom to ask him if he was okay.

“I’m just tired, priyo, that’s all.”

“Seriously? You’re going to hit me with the I’m tired line?

“I thought you didn’t do the language magic thing with me,” Haider said, trying to joke.

Anatole pursed his lips. “You’re evading the topic. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but I’m here for you, if you do want to talk.”

Haider sat down on the bed, he sat up again, turning over himself to look at anywhere but at Anatole, until he was looking only at him. “Nana, why did you come?”

“What?”

“You took a purposeful deviation from a work trip. You skipped personally informing the Countess of a serious enough diplomatic trip to send her Consul to.”

“I don’t think Nadia minds me taking a couple of weeks off, since I’m always working, and I sent a full written report with Natiqa, so I don’t see where your question is going.”

“But you always say you don’t do those things.”

“Haider, I can’t even remember the last time I said such a thing. I’m here, isn’t that what matters?”

“Yes, but why, Nana?”

“Oh, Haider, you know why.”

“What if I don’t?”

If someone would’ve had access to Anatole’s mind in that moment, he would’ve heard high pitched screaming. A note so high it was only audible to dogs, never mind Anatole’s voice register wasn’t nearly as high as such a thing suggested. Dreads settled in his gut as they started one of the most stupid circular arguments Anatole has ever witnessed or been part of. It was like there was a duplicate of himself watching them fight, shaking his head at him, saying ‘I told you so’ while he realised that if this was it, if for some reason this was how it ended, as dramatic as it sounded, he didn’t know if he’d ever fully come back from it.

The argument was too stupid for Anatole to let it fester any further.

“How can you not know that I love you, Haider? How can you not realise that I’m in love with you?”

Well, he said it. It was out. The only way to get out of this conversation was there was no way to get out of that conversation now. Unless, of course Anatole climbed out of the window without breaking a leg in the process.

“Iloveyoutoo,” Haider blurted out without missing a beat. A somehow candid and terrified look on his face, which went away when he repeated the words, more slowly, more surely. “I love you too, amar shona.”

The certainty in his words made Anatole forget how to breathe. “You— you love me too?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Anatole barely let him finish that sentence. He made his way across the room in a flash, walking over the bed (thank the Gods he was barefoot) to close the distance between them as fast as he could. He climbed on Haider, pulling him into a kiss, and Haider caught him in his arms — Haider would always catch him, Haider would always be there, and he was a fool not to realise it sooner.

“I love you,” Anatole said against his lips, “I’m so sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

Haider kissed him back, wrapping his arms around him like Anatole could evaporate in front of him at any moment. All his family had told him not to let him go, and now, now that he knew himself loved and Anatole knew he loved him, he would hold onto him until he had a chance to say it for all the months he wanted and didn’t.

“I love you too,” he said between kisses. “Amar shona, Amar Jibon.”

Anatole knew the language. He didn’t need Haider to translate to know he just called him both ‘my love’ and ‘love of my life’. Haider repeated it in every space between kisses where he could fit the words, over and over again.

✴︎ ✴︎ ✴︎

When he was around ten and Valerian had told him the story of the Earth and the Sun for the hundredth time, he said he wished someone loved him like that one day.

Valerian had kissed his forehead. “You will find your Earth, I’m sure of it.”

Now that he was lying on top of Haider, spent and happier than he had ever been, he knew he had.

#the arcana #the arcana oc #oc x oc #IT IS DONE #anyway HAND IN MARRIAGE WHEN #haidelius #kani's ocs #my writing #aelius anatole #haider wazim #they miss dinner again and someone finds them passed out - covered but obviously naked - and let's them be #leonore #medea #asra #valerius #beautiful powerful and stubborn as a ram #amparo cassano #milenko #valerian cassano

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theshy1sout · 4 years ago

Text

Inseparable - Chapter 18

Tags: Broppy, Slow Burn Fluff, Not rated, Trolls Mythology Au

Ao3 here

Notes: Well, I’m late, it suppose to be posted on Sunday xD I have less and less time to write, I haven’t edited this chapter yet. But I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway

______________________________________________________

Branch and Poppy are standing in Silence in the middle of the Hall of Parley, pinned down by King's merciless sight. They have no courage to get their heads up or even move, fearing gathered Immortals around them and fearing to face the orange god sitting in front of them on the throne. Between them and the King, the Staff of the Light is lying deadly on the big white pillow. The crack is screaming from Its top. Rain's rustle and rumbles are the only sound in the Hall. Val, the goddess of thunder, is probably the only person who's in a good mood now.

Peppy is in two minds. Different feelings fight in him when he's gazing at his dear daughter. Oh, sweet pink Poppy. His little treasure, his highest hopes, his greatest trust... How could she do that? How could she slack her newly acquired duties? How could she betray his trust and let him down so much? Maybe he was wrong and she wasn't ready for such a big responsibility... But how couldn't she know how important The Staff is? How could she destroy her own mother's heritage?

And Branch? Peppy was sure at the first meeting he was never worth trusting. Maybe it's him who took his daughter into destroying the Staff. Maybe he planned it all from the very beginning. And poor naive Poppy was deceived, she believes that the good is in everybody, poor innocent kid...

But deep down King knows that's not true. Poppy is intelligent, bright, and strong-willed, she doesn't let anybody push her around. He taught her for so long and he was always so proud of her matureness, he trusts her like himself. So there's no way Poppy destroyed the Staff on purpose. There's no way she lacked her responsibilities.

And Branch... The god of the Night has been the guardian of the Staff for years before Poppy took care of the Day. He had so many chances to destroy It or even just throw it into the Chaos. But he didn't. Besides that... Rose did trust him. Rose gave him the Staff not without a reason. No matter how hard it is to admit for Peppy, Branch is as trustworthy as Poppy. And maybe even more...

So there's no way either of them destroyed the Staff on purpose. King wants to believe that it was such an accident, but there's no way for that either. They slacked on their responsibilities. And it happened during the Day, so... It's Poppy who failed. And nothing could hurt Peppy more. The anger boiling in his heart at the very beginning is not replaced with dejectedness and misery. He closes his eyes. His heart squeezes painfully with the thought that he would have to sentence his own daughter. His little sweet Poppy, his and Rose's treasure, their highest hopes, their greatest trust...

- How did this happen - King says quietly and pitifully like begging for proof he's all wrong. No one says anything for a long unbearable while, so he repeats his question, sounding more like an order to speak.

- We were... - Poppy's voice is weak and shy, not like hers. She clears her throat and tries to sound more serious. - We were dancing. - She says honestly, which of course doesn't sound serious at all. Her father looks at her with confused disbelief. But still, she doesn't dare to look up at him. - It was my stupid idea...

- It's only my fault, Your Highness - Branch interrupts her, showing the King his serious face and eyes filled with desperate grief. - I distracted your dear daughter, sir. She dropped the Staff because of me.

Peppy glances at Poppy, but she doesn't react to the god's words. It would be so easy to buy it... His daughter is always more important for him, choosing between them King would always choose the goddess. But besides being a father, he is also the god of Harmony. He guards the Order, he has to be justice. So he can't just believe that all was Branch's fault. He has to look for the truth.

- How exactly did you distract her? - The King asks patiently.

The blue god's reaction is something Peppy's never seen before. His blue cheek immediately turns red.

- My father - Poppy speaks out unexpectedly in such an official tone. - Branch's right about distracting me... But I can't blame him for it. - Her cheeks also turn red now. - I lost myself... I forgot about my responsibility...

Peppy looks at them with rising misunderstanding. The Immortals start whispering, the rustle begins to fill the Hall.

- How is this possible to forget about the Staff if you have it right in your hand? - King asks, not hiding his confusion.

Poppy and Branch exchange glances, blushing even more.

- It's hard to explain, my King - The god of the Night does his best to keep eye contact with Peppy. The pink goddess whispers something to him, which is an extremely rude thing to do in front of the King. But the orange god watches patiently as they talk quietly. He needs explanations.

Poppy finally lifts her head and their sights meet. There has never been so much tension between them before. He watches as his daughter and Branch grab each other's hands and lace their fingers, which makes him even more confused.

- My father - She speaks out, much calmer and more confident than earlier. - I know it's not a good time to announce something like that... But... - They both raise their clasped hands. Two silver rings shine on their fingers. - We love each other. We are Inseparable in virtue of the Immortal Vow.

King Peppy freezes. Everything stops. He stares at the two silver rings, frowns, and blinks. What has she just said?

- It's true, your Highness - Milton shyly stands up from his seat and tries to say it out loud. - I'm the witness of the Vow.

Peppy is just sitting there, with his mouth wide open, with his forehead frowns so hard from misunderstanding. He's always thought that after Rose died he's the only one knowing everything about the world. Or at least he knows more than other Immortals. But now he feels like he knows nothing.

He has so many questions.

- Why? - That is the first thing echoing in his mind on and on without any answer. And the second is: - What does it mean you love ? - Peppy is hoping that he doesn't have to add "And what does it have to do with the broken Staff?"

So they start a story longer than he expected. The story so unbelievable and genuinely authentic at the same time. Everybody is listening in Silence, not even moving, so focusing, being so fascinated by the brand new world Branch and Poppy are painting before their eyes. So many unknown words, so many unknown feelings, new levels of relationship deeper than it seems to be possible. When they finish, shyly confessing how they made the Staff crack, nobody says anything, almost holding breaths trying to process everything those two told.

King Peppy gets lost in his thoughts. Everyone is waiting for him to comment, to say something about these two, but... He just doesn't know how he feels about it.

- Poppy. Branch. - King starts slowly. - We need to discuss the... The whole thing. - He looks down at the broken Sphere. - Leave the Hall and wait for our call.

***

The door gets closed behind them with a firm bang. There is only Silence and them on the Palace's corridor.

Poppy feels Branch's hand trembling in her hand. She squeezes it slightly and looks at him worryingly.

- How do you feel? - The goddess asks quietly. She's watching as he's losing his grip. He leans weakly against the wall, first with his hand and then slumps against it with his back. He drops her hand, sliding down on the floor. He's breathing deep and heavily, staring at the horizon. Poppy looks at him with her eyes open wide. She never saw him openly showing her all his emotions. He just reveals all of him in front of her, not hiding how scared, helpless and miserable he feels.

Branch glances up at her so grief, sighing heavily.

- Come - He pleases, reaching to her with open arms. - I need you down here.

She gets down on her knees and moves close to him. She lets him embrace her tight, hugging him back. Her hand calmly caresses his hair, listening to his uneasy breath.

- You're scared of being thrown into the Chaos, aren't you? - Poppy guesses quietly and feels how he cuddles a bit tighter. - They won't do that. No matter what my dad thinks about you, I swear, he won't do that.

- How do you know - Branch murmurs.

- I know him - She whispers softly. - He won't. He has to face the fact that throwing you away means throwing me away, too.

- Poppy... - He begs. - I want you to stay here. I want you to live and be happy.

She smiles warmly.

- You said you wanted us to be the most obvious thing in the world. We are not talking about you or me. We are talking about ourselves. And we will not be thrown into the Chaos.

His a bit cold nose touches her neck when he nestles up to her.

- How can you be so calm? - Branch asks after a while.

- No one can't separate us - She says, touching her ring with her thumb. - Whatever they decide to do with us, we'll always be together in this. That's all that matters for me.

She hears his heart beating faster. He groans painfully into her shoulder. He starts kissing her, planting quickly his lips on her shoulder, her neck, her ear, her hair, so many hasty desperate kisses. When he finishes, he sinks his hand into her hair and presses her head to his chest. He covers her whole with his huge arms. She has to change her seat, because her legs start to stiffen. She sits on his lap, lying her legs around him. Now she's hugging him with all of her limbs, with her whole body, as she always dreamed. If it was a different situation, she would be thrilled.

- I don't want to live in a world where you don't exist - Branch confesses. Poppy smiles widely.

- That doesn't impend over you - She promises, stroking his hair comfortingly. - I love you too much to just disappear.

The god chuckles slightly and that is all Poppy needs right now.

A long, quite calm while passes in Silence and pleasant warmth of their cuddle. Then, unexpectedly, Branch heaves a sigh and carefully pushes her away. She gives his asking sight when he's deeply gazing into her eyes.

- I know you are scared, too - He says, starting to gently clear her face from strands of her hair. - You taught me to not hide my feelings inside me. - He strokes her cheek tenderly. - You don't need to play calm. It's not what I need either. I need you to be real.

The goddess wants to protest, but her voice fails her. She could keep calm when she was hidden in his arms, but now his azure eyes put down her guard. She can't pretend anything when he looks at her like this. With worry, with care, with love. Her lips shake when she tries to speak out once again. Branch's hand reaches to her eye and wipes something wet under her eyelid. That is the moment she realizes she's crying.

- Okay, I am scared - She breathes out, looking away. - I mean... I know you won't leave me, but... I don't know what they're planning for us... And I can't do anything about it now... I feel so helpless.

She takes a deep breath, dropping her arms.

- I feel like a failure. I disappointed my dad. I disappointed everyone. I had this job like... A year and a half. That's almost nothing! I messed up this... I... - She takes another deep snatchy breath, sniffing. Branch cups her cheek and touches her forehead to his. That stops her chills. That keeps her in one place. She closes her eyes. - I feel so selfish. I dropped the Staff just to... just to hold you closer... I dreamed about being that close with you... But I should have not slacked on my responsibilities.

- You can call me selfish too - Branch says calmly. - Cause... I'm so happy that you chose me over the Staff.

- I would always choose you over the Staff, Branch - Poppy confesses without a second of hesitation. - But I shouldn't have let It crack.

His warm thumb caresses slowly her cheek, wiping another tear.

- We are not talking about you or me - He says calmly. - We are talking about us.

Poppy sniffs loudly and heaves another snatchy sigh.

- I wanted to kiss you so badly then - The god whispers. Their noses touch. - Let's call it our joint fault.

The goddess smiles slightly, sniffing once again.

- You don't sound like you regret it - She points out.

- I don't regret kissing you - He pushes her a bit away to meet her eyes. - I regret that we lost our minds then. And forgot about another important thing.

She looks at him in Silence. There is nothing else to say, they both earn a penalty. But she feels a bit lighter now. She told Branch what she felt, now they can only wait for their fate. It's so weird, but right now gazing at the azure of his eyes, his worried forehead, and his twisted from anxious lips, Poppy can't stop thinking and feeling how much she loves him. She gets unhurriedly closer and presses her mouth against his. They share a soft, warm kiss for a minute. They cuddle, much calmer than a while before.

- I know you've been hearing that a lot of times - Branch strokes her hair affectionately. - But... I love you, Poppy.

She sighs, forgetting for a moment about the door and the Palace, about the Staff and broken Sphere, about her dad and Immortals discussing their fate.

- I love you too, Branch.

_________________________________

Index

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jackoshadows · 5 years ago

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One of the reasons for why I love Jon Snow in the books is because I find him to be the character who adheres closest to values I find admirable. IMO, Character traits like being broad-minded, intelligent and loyal tend to be more attractive in a character rather than than say good looks or good manners. Jon is selfless and honorable - to a certain extent. He can be pragmatic and bend the rules if necessary.

Jon Snow stands out as the only leader/main character in the series whose central narrative theme is about unifying people against a common threat. This is underscored by GRRM sending him off to the wall at the start of the books and Jeor Mormont telling Jon Snow:

When dead men coming hunting in the night, do you think it matters who sits on the Iron Throne - Jon Snow, AGoT

With this in mind, we see Jon continually grow as a character from book one to book five gradually killing the boy to let the man be born.

When we first see him at the wall, he’s a bit of a privileged brat and offended by the other recruits. But after Donal Nye sets him straight, he uses his education and knowledge to help the other kids in the NW. Jon grew up otherizing the Wildlings and saw them as people to be kept on the other side of the wall. He then spends a lot of time with them and comes to see them as human beings same as him and the rest of Westeros. He wants his childhood desire of being Lord of Winterfell, but understands that he swore an oath to the NW and his job is to defend the realm.

There are two quotes that embody Jon Snow best in the books:

‘You know nothing, Jon Snow’ – First used by Ygritte to educate Jon Snow on his ignorance about Wildlings and then later used by Lord Commander Jon Snow to remind himself that he still has a lot to learn even as a leader of men. A take on Socrates ‘I know that I know nothing’ – a humble acknowledgment that even the best leaders are not experts but human beings who can mistakes.

‘We look up at the same stars and see such different things’ - Jon is able to understand that two people can see the same thing and have such different opinions and that their opinions are colored by their upbringing and situation. As someone who has to unite people against a common threat, this is an important understanding that Jon has earned – this could be why he is a damn good negotiator in the books, earning praise from even Stannis.

Jon is able to acknowledge these important little lessons because he is at heart a fundamentally good person. We see this in how he treats characters who are disadvantaged and mistreated by Westeros society. These are not big moments but small character relationships that highlight how Jon Snow often stands out in thinking differently to a majority of Westeros.

Jon Snow as a child comforting Arya when she comes crying to him about being a possible bastard because of her looks. Imagine how much this would have hurt? But he loves Arya enough to put aside his own hurt feelings to reassure her.

Once he gets to know Tyrion personally and differentiates him from the rest of the Lannisters, Jon is quickly able to see past appearances and Westerosi prejudices and considers Tyrion a friend:

He ran back to the common hall , where he found Tyrion Lannister just finishing his meal. He grabbed the little man under the arms, hoisted him up in the air, and spun him around in a circle. “Bran is going to live!” he whooped. - Jon, AGoT

Asks Tyrion to comfort and help Bran in whatever way possible. This is in contrast to Robb’s immediate dislike and distrust of Tyrion. Jon judges a person based on their actions.

“Thank you, my lord of Lannister.” He pulled off his glove and offered his bare hand. “Friend.”

Tyrion found himself oddly touched. “Most of my kin are bastards,” he said with a wry smile, “but you’re the first I’ve had to friend.” - Tyrion, AGoT

Realizes how Sam Tarly is ill equipped to fight, figures out what Sam is best suited to do, talks to Maester Aemon about it and arranges for Sam to work for the Maester instead.

Appoints Satin Flowers, a former male prostitute from OldTown as his steward despite opposition from his bigoted department heads. And he does this, because once again, he judges based on a person’s actions and skills, rather than on the labels society places on them

“My Lord, the boy’s a whore...a...dare I say... a painted catamite from the brothels of Old Town”

“What he was in Oldtown is none of our concern. He’s quick to learn and very clever. The other recruits started out despising him, but he won them over and made friends of them all. He’s fearless in a fight and can even read and write after a fashion. He should be capable of fetching me my meals and saddling my horse, don’t you think?”

“Most like,” said Bowen Marsh, stony-faced, “but the men do not like it. Traditionally the lord commander’s squires are lads of good birth being groomed for command. Does my lord believe the men of the Night’s Watch would ever follow a whore into battle?”

Jon’s temper flashed. “They have followed worse. The Old Bear left a few cautionary notes about certain of the men, for his successor. We have a cook at the Shadow Tower who was fond of raping septas. He burned a seven-pointed star into his flesh for every one he claimed. His left arm is stars from wrist to elbow, and stars mark his calves as well. At Eastwatch we have a man who set his father’s house afire and barred the door. His entire family burned to death, all nine. Whatever Satin may have done in Oldtown, he is our brother now, and he will be my squire.”

Jon appoints Leathers of the Freefolk as his Master-at-arms once again, against objections from the likes of Cellador and Bowen

Bowen: Is it true that you mean to replace Emmett with this savage Leathers as our master-at-arms? That is an office most oft reserved for knights, or rangers at the least.

Jon: Leathers is savage. I can attest to that. I've tried him in the practice yard. He's as dangerous with a stone axe as most knights are with castle-forged steel. I grant you, he is not as patient as I'd like, and some of the boys are terrified of him ... but that's not all for the bad. One day they'll find themselves in a real fight, and a certain familiarity with terror will serve them well

The Freefolk women: Jon sees them as capable and equal in all ways to the men. He sends Val off all alone to find Tormund. He garrisons Long Barrow fully with Spearwives, entrusting them to defend that castle and the wall.

And we find that Jon is hungry for knowledge, and in his spare time he learns the Old Tongue from Leathers so that he can communicate with the giant Wun-Wun. He is always reading the books Maester Aemon left him, conducting science experiments on wights and even thinks of building a green house on the Gift to grow food. Once again, Jon acknowledges the importance of learning that he picked up from characters like Aemon, Sam and Tyrion.

I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind.. and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge.” Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book. “That’s why I read so much, Jon Snow.” - Tyrion, AGoT

There’s a reason for why Jon’s so good at what he does. Look at the people from whom he learns – Ned Stark, Tyrion Lannister, Jeor Mormont, Donal Noye, Qhorin Half-hand, Maester Aemon, Samwell Tarly, Mance Raydar, Stannis Baratheon etc. Every one of these men gives him a tidbit of information that he ends up using in the books.

Jon is very astute and has a deep understanding of the way the North and people in general work:

"The free folk despise kneelers," he had warned Stannis. "Let them keep their pride, and they will love you better." Soon or late, however, Tormund Giantsbane would assault the Wall again, and when that hour came Jon wondered whose side Stannis's new-made subjects would choose. You can give them land and mercy, but the free folk choose their own kings. - Jon, ADwD

Early on he advises Stannis to go with the Umbers instead of the Karstarks. Later we see his advice hold true as the Karstarks betray Stannis while Mors Crowfood allies with him. He also advises Stannis to approach Manderly – a decision that once again works out right. He explains to Stannis in clear detail how to approach the mountain clans for help

“And they will fight for me, you believe?”

“If you ask them.”

“Why should I beg for what is owed me?”

“Ask, I said, not beg.” Jon pulled back his hand. “It is no good sending messages. Your Grace will need to go to them yourself. Eat their bread and salt, drink their ale, listen to their pipers, praise the beauty of their daughters and the courage of their sons, and you’ll have their swords. The clans have not seen a king since Torrhen Stark bent his knee. Your coming does them honor. Command them to fight for you, and they will look at one another and say, ‘Who is this man? He is no king of mine.’ ”

In a way, it makes sense that Jon tries to see the humanity of people, tries to teach them, weeds out talent and designates based on merit and skillset – he works with the lowest of the lowest. He’s the military head of a group of outlaws, murderers, rapists, bigots, smallfolk with no education or access to education. He has to be able to see beyond labels to get this ragtag bunch ready to face an apocalyptic threat.

Contrast this Jon Snow to Jaime Lannister in AFfC who hangs some outlaws in the Riverlands and then proudly calls himself ‘Goldenhand the Just’ for meting out ‘justice’, failing to even acknowledge that those hungry outlaws were created by his war – a war that started because of his incestuous adultery.

To conclude, Jon Snow ending an 8000 year old feud between the north and the freefolk, bringing them over to this side of the wall, including them in the realms of men, making real alliances between old Northern houses and the freefolk epitomizes what Jon Snow stands for as a character in the books.

There’s a reason for why GRRM describes Jon Snow thus:

Jon Snow is the truest character--I like his sense of realism and the way he copes with his bastardy.

#Jon Snow #ASoIaF #A Song of Ice and Fire

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graveyardarcana-blog · 5 years ago

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🥀Midnight Company🥀

hello all! so after my recent "about me" post, i decided to write a story with my apprentice and valerius. i've been thinking about this plot for the past few days but just recently gained the courage to write it and put it out there, so i hope you all enjoy! i'll be including a little backstory tidbit momentarily. feel free to check out my apprentice post to learn more about liv vanhelsing and her endeavors (she's really just a self-insert slightly modified to fit the game's time period).

•《🥀》•

《Backstory》

After defeating The Devil alongside her friends, Olivia Vanhelsing returned to the palace to fulfill a full time job as head adviser for Consul Valerius and Countess Nadia. After moons of living in the same space, and finding out they actually have a lot in common, Vanhelsing and Valerius are now very close friends, seeing to each other whenever necessary (or desired). But sometimes wooden doors are too easy hear through, and the head adviser's past still haunts her.

•《🥀》•

A sharp scream escaped my mouth, forcing me awake from my horrific slumber. I shot up from my bed, breathing heavily as cold sweat ran down my back. My sheets where tangled up and scattered every which way, some of the heavier blankets and furs now laying on the floor.

My body felt weak, as if I had weights hanging all over me. I suddenly burst into tears, the discomfort and memories from my nightmare grasping at me like a rabid dog, hungry for whatever it could get. With haunting thoughts and flashbacks from my past eating away at me, I tucked my knees into my chest. I tried quieting my sobs, but to no avail. All I could do now is hope that no one hears me, and wait for my mind to calm itself down.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that my only wish had been for nothing. Wiping away my tears and attempting to compose myself, I lifted myself up from my resting place and slowly approached the door.

I gently twisted the knob and opened the door, slightly taken aback by who I saw. Valerius, with worry plastered on his face.

"Oh, uhm, ahem. Valerius," I greeted him, wiping away the last little bit of wetness on my face. "Odd to see you up at this hour," I said as I stood up straight and fixed my robes.

His long, unbraided hair fell elegantly on his shoulders and his eyebrows were furrowed together. Looking at me with concern, he replied, "I heard a scream come from this hall and wanted to make sure you were okay," he began. "And when I made it down here, I heard cries coming from your room," he continued. "May I come in?"

"I... Yes, of course," I said, clearly embarrassed by someone hearing my nightly routine. I stepped aside and pulled the door open, allowing my friend to enter the room.

Valerius smiled softly and walked in, but soon paused. He examined the pillows and blankets all over the place, obviously from thrashing around. He turned to face me. "Helsing, what happened in here?" he questioned, concern in his deep voice. He grasped my hand and squeezed it. "You can trust me," he said.

I looked down at where we connected, not used to human contact but also not wanting to pull away. "I have nightmares," I replied softly, almost too quiet to hear. "It's no use talking about them, they won't go away," I continued, my voice trembling ever so slightly.

Val nodded and silently approached the scattered blankets and pillows, picking them up and putting them on my bed. He straightened out my sheets and placed the pillows in an organized, but comfortable, position.

"I used to get nightmares as well," he stated, sitting down on the foot of my bed. "Fighting in countless battles and seeing good warriors... Friends, even, die does stuff to a person," he continued. "I was a prisoner of war once as well," he added, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"I'm sorry Val," I said. "You've gone through worse than I ever have," I continued as I sat down beside him.

He looked over at me and shook his head. "Not worse, just different," he replied as he gazed into my eyes. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but how you feel is important, and you have people that care about you and your wellbeing," he stated. "I know there's more to you than what you put off," he added, intertwining his hand with mine. "It's odd because you remind me so much of myself."

I looked away, tears welling up in my eyes. Valerius released my hand and pulled me into a loving hug. "I'm not going to make you talk," he said as he rested his head on my collar. "But know that I will listen need be it," he continued, his warm breaths touching the back of my neck.

I held him tightly, burying my face in his soft hair. "Thank you," I mumbled, relaxing against his touch.

"Of course," Valerius replied as he pulled away. He stood up and gently kissed my forehead and held my cheek in his hand. "Come get me whenever you need to," he began. "I'm always nearby," he said as he made his way to the door, walking out hesitantly, but deciding to give me my space. He looked into my eyes one last time as he gently shut the door, making sure to keep quiet.

I let out a relaxed sigh and laid back down, snuggling under the covers and holding onto a pillow. Valerius always knew how to calm me down and tried his best to help me. With that thought, I smiled softly and drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

•《🥀》•

《Additional Snippet》

The next morning, Liv found out from Portia that instead of returning to his quarters, Valerius fell asleep propped up against her door. When Portia asked him why, he simply responded, "I just wanted to make sure she was safe."

•《🥀》•

alright guys, that was a bit of a longer one but for those of you who made it through, i hope you enjoyed the story and found it a tad bit interesting. story requests are still open, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to send them through an ask. thank you!

-liv🖤

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alwaysthesideofwonder · 5 years ago

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Tag your 10 favorite characters from 10 different things, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by: @allegoriesinmediasres Thanks for tagging me!

Tagging: Anyone who would like to do this

Warning: Just finished getting figuratively murdered on an 8 day stretch of night shift so I may be prone to babbling...

1. Baahubali: Devasena (just overall awesome and tough. Became my favorite the second she started declaring that she seriously was building Bhalladeva’s funeral pyre)

2. Ramayana: Sita (she goes through a bunch of crap and yet keeps her head up and keeps moving forward. That was always the part about her that I wanted to be like since I was a kid)

3. Codex Alera: Max and Krassus tied (how can I not love the guy who tries so hard to be a mother hen and his initially estranged brother who’s spent his entire life admiring him? And of course, combined they’re probably one of the best assets to the Aleran legions)

4. The Goblin Emperor: Maia 100% wins with Csethiro as a very close second (because Maia is the very definition of a cinnamon roll who deserves only good things! And there’s no way I can’t love a woman who’s first reaction to someone trying to hurt her fiance is to offer to fight a duel against the offending person)

5. The Lumatere Chronicles: Lirah, Quintana, Froi and Phaedra all tied (But then this is one of my all time favorite stories so that was going to be a given. Seriously though, who could chose between a woman who has been through so much crap and manages to retain her pride and dignity, a girl who is hated by her country only to steadily make them love her, a boy who was definitely on his way to becoming one of those men we all hate and manages to do an about face and become a guy who not only respects women but tries to get the world to see how wonderful some of the most despised women of the country are, and a girl who is sheltered all her life but gains the courage to stand up to protect her people as they become refugees?)

6. Protector of the Small: Keladry of Mindelan with Neal as a close second (strong and stoic, proves that hard work will pay off regardless of what the men say!)

7. Harry Potter: Hermione Granger (smart, cares a lot, driven, made me feel better about my explosive, frizzy South Asian hair...)

8. The Greatcoats Quartet: Falcio val Mond (is the definition of life is a series of unfortunate events but still does his best to change things for the best while remaining his witty self. Also fully empathize with how often he mentally is going “Oh crap” when yet another thing goes wrong)

9. Emelan series: Briar with Sandry, Tris and Daja as close seconds (goes from untrusting street rat to willing to go the land of the dead if only to get his beloved teacher back and always has the back of his foster sisters)

10. BBC Merlin: Merlin with Gwaine as a close second (he tries so hard and cares so much while having to keep Arthur in the dark! And then everything is just more fun once Gwaine shows up!)

#personal #books #tv

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trashcankitty12 · 5 years ago

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So... I don't know anything about Valkyrie because I still haven't found the time to read all of your fics but from little bits and pieces I've seen about her here and there, she sounds really interesting. So can you give me a crash course on Valkyrie? I'd love to learn more about her but heaven knows when I'll find the time and motivation to read all your fics (so many words!!!) so I would love to hear some interesting facts about her and her relationships with her parents and Flora and Winx.😁

Crash course? Okay, but you asked for it!

Curiosities:

Val’s birthday is October 13, and on a Friday the 13th at that. (So original, I know.)

She has a dragon birthmark on her back. She also has scars on her arms. One from Stormy and one from a Shaa creature.

There’s a scar on her shoulder from sparring with Kota as a child. One of his illusions got out of hand and it triggered an emotional response from her dragon, so they sort of ended up scarring each other up.

Valkyrie has a familiar in the form of a tuxedo cat named Cheshire. (And Griffin absolutely, totally, does not like the cat. And it’s completely beside the point that she can be found petting him as often as her daughter. A coincidence really.)

Her favorite classes are Monster Taming and the combat classes. She absolutely hates potions, even if her grades are well above passing.

She has a cousin named Morgan who is a fairy and half-elf. Because of their parents being gone often to teach in Magix, they grew up forming a sister-esque relationship.

Valkyrie is a lesbian. The first person she came out to was actually Helia when they were about 11 and he was down visiting his mother and uncle. He helped her gain courage to open up to their other friends and eventually to her mother. (Griffin had no cares for who Valkyrie would end up dating, so long as they treated her daughter with respect and love and weren’t affiliated with the Coven.)

She’s a big reader and loves documentary movies. (Her and her aunt Ediltrude especially love true crime stories and have little murder boards. Griffin would cut their time short while she could, just as a precaution.)

Like Griffin she loves astronomy and history. Like Valtor, she has a love for combat.

By Earth’s zodiac thing, Valkyrie is a libra. It’s a bit ironic since she’s vital in the whole “Balance of the Magical Dimension” thing.

By the Magical Dimension’s zodiac thing, she’s an elemental. Considering her magic comes from the Element of Fire, its fitting.

Val doesn’t do horror movies. “I see enough horror in my day to day life. I don’t need the extra stimulus.”

She also has a fear of snakes that stems from an accident when she and her friends (elementary friends and Morgan) stumbled into a baslisks’ nest and almost ended up lunch. (Thankfully Griffin and Saladin had noticed the kids were gone fairly quickly and came to their rescue.)

Traits:

Like her mother, she’s sarcastic and has a “Type-A” personality. She can’t stand the thought of getting behind on anything. She also has a tendency to antagonize her opponents and then getting into more trouble.

She also has a tendency to sneak out of places and loves to do word play. (Ex: You snuck out of Cloud Tower. ‘Actually, I walked out of Cloud Tower. Through the tunnels. So… No real sneaking.’)

She has an affinity for swords like her father. Griffin enrolled her at a young age in a junior sword fighting league after she begged to be signed up with Helia.

Valkyrie is impulsive and doesn’t tend to think things through, but when she does actually sit down to plot out something, she’s a great tactician.

She has a tendency to see things in black and white, often forgetting that shades of gray exist in life.

Smart-ass. Need I say more?

She loves to write and often writes journals about her adventures. (It also assists in separating her own thoughts from the thoughts her dragon has. After all, she’s a two-spirit and her dragon still has a mind of his own… As does Bloom’s.)

Physical:

Valkyrie takes after her Great-Aunt Hetty in the height department… 5′0″ and affectionately known as an “imp”.

She also has short purple hair in a bob-like cut. Her eyes are blue-gray and she wears black framed glasses.

Her outfits typically include short-sleeves and shorts. She can’t help it, she burns hot and can barely stand to wear long-sleeves.

Val has issues walking in heels. She’s a bit clumsy in them.

Griffin:

Valkyrie is close to her mother and they have a fairly open and honest relationship. (Of course, there are some things Griffin doesn’t talk about. Like parts of her time with the Coven and anything that has to do with Valkyrie’s father.)

They have a Yule tradition where they wear pjs, create a blanket fort, have hot chocolate and popcorn, and watch horribly cheesy holiday movies for the hell of it.

They have also been known to have flour and dough fights in the kitchen.

Griffin adores Valkyrie with Flora, thinking the fairy is a calming influence on her daughter. (And the look Flora gives Valkyrie makes her think of the looks she’d given Valtor…)

Griffin never tried to turn Valkyrie against her father. She only told her daughter that they shared a power, eye colors, and that he never left the Coven. Valkyrie’s dragon filled in the rest of the blanks.

Growing up, Griffin made sure Valkyrie had a warm and loving environment to be raised in. She wanted to make damn sure that Valkyrie never had to question her love or that she was worth something. (She’d seen enough self-doubt and self-hate in Valtor, she didn’t want her daughter growing up the same way.)

If Valkyrie had nightmares while growing up, she never hesitated to crawl into bed with her mom. And Griffin never hesitated to keep vigil to protect her child from ‘the glowing golden eyes’ and ‘the chill of frost’.

Valkyrie really looks up to her mother, and will be the first to tell you that she wants to be as strong and will-full as her mother when she’s grown. (And boy is she ever her mother’s daughter.)

Snowball wars are a thing with this family. Bring it on. (Usually adults vs. the kids.)

Valtor:

This relationship is beyond complicated.

It went from non-existent to antagonistic to mourning.

She never really knew him growing up, what with him being in Omega and all… But once he was out, her dragon had already explained to her just how horrible he was and she was angry with him.

That anger didn’t waiver when he tried to mess with her relationship to Flora or when he took over Cloud Tower and tormented her mother.

But once the dust settled and his corruption started to dissipate in his final moments of clarity, Valkyrie could see bits of who he used to be. And she mourns for that version of him. The one who admits he should have left with Griffin and should have been there for her.

As a kid, she used to fantasize that he would come back and be apologetic for siding with the Ancestral Witches, that he’d get back with her mother and they’d have a ‘normal family’. She resented the teasing she got as a kid because she was from a single mother household.

She grew out of those fantasies though, especially once she started being able to communicate with her dragon and learned about the horrible things he did as one of their soldiers.

(She still hates that he had to die, that she couldn’t save him from the corruption of the blood bond he shared with the Ancestral Witches.)

Bonus:

Val is very much a family-oriented witch. If her cousin needs her help, she’s there. Her uncles need her? Boom, there she is. Her grandmother? There she is.

Yule is her favorite holiday because of the traditions she shares with her family. Including: the dinner with family and extended friends and family, the movie marathon with her mom, the major snowball war that always takes place, and the catching up.

She considers her grandmother a second mom because Theodora often watched Morgan and Valkyrie while their parents worked in Magix. (Theodora is thrilled to have had the chance to be there for them like she was for her own children.)

Val tends to get in on the prank war between her mother and Uncle Sal. (Palladium refuses to partake on the grounds that he doesn’t want to end up dragon food.)

Flora:

Ah love… Isn’t it a grand emotion?

They met when Valkyrie intervened in an attack by the Trix, and Valkyrie was enthralled immediately.

Flora felt a connection with her too. She loves her witch and loves knowing that she has Valkyrie wrapped around her finger. (All she has to do is mention what she wants and Valkyrie will do her best.)

Valkyrie has a protective streak and has a tendency to get fired up if anything threatens or harms Flora. She’s even summoned the Army of Darkness over her fairy.

She also has a jealous streak whenever she notices someone lingering too long around Flora. (She’s burned people for such offenses.)

Valkyrie finds herself becoming more and more a romantic while hanging around Flora. Flora adores it.

They see things in each other that others don’t. Flora sees the vulnerability and emotion in Valkyrie. She sees the good and the light that resides within.

And Valkyrie sees in Flora someone who is strong and compassionate. She sees a woman who loves her and who has a bit of darkness herself. (Flora isn’t quite as sweet and ‘innocent’ as they all make her out to be.)

They complement each other in ways no one else could. Flora is calm and collected with her planning, and Valkyrie tends to be impulsive. (Sort of a parallel for a different couple…)

Flora knows how hot Val can run and how volatile she can get, but she knows without a shadow of doubt that Valkyrie will never burn her. And Valkyrie knows she never could burn Flora.

The Other Winx:

Valkyrie is close to Bloom, the two of them having similar situations. They both have a bit of a twisted sense of humor, but Bloom tends to be more lighthearted than Val is.

Bloom and Valkyrie often spar together too. Bloom wants to connect more to her dragon like Valkyrie has done with her own, and the fastest way is to spar.

(It also helps them get out a bit of resentment that they have for each other. Bloom hates that Val’s dad is responsible for what happened to her planet and that Val got to grow up knowing about her magic. And Val resents that Bloom got to grow up completely worry-free of falling into her parents’ shadows.)

Stella and Val are more antagonistic to one another. I mean, they’re friends and everything, but Val can only handle Stella’s “princess ‘tude” for so long. And Stella can only handle Val’s darker sense of humor for a little while.

Val and Tecna tend to play games together. Board and video. (They tend to stalemate at Chess. And they get competitive enough that boards have been known to be flipped.)

(There are even a few card games that are now forbidden to be played again.)

Layla and Val have a kinship in sneaking out and having overprotective parents. They also tend to share their love and respect for the ocean and all it’s creatures.

Musa and Val once bonded on their love for alternative bands and rock music. Don’t know how it came about, but it did,

Bloom and Val have done projects together that combined Val’s persuasive writing skills and Bloom’s artistic sensibilities.

Val has also been talked into modeling/explaining goth and punk fashion to Stella to assist in expanding her fashion lines. (Both ended up leaving with strips of fabric and paint attached to each other. No one has bothered to ask what exactly happened there.)

Layla and Val sword fight together and consider each other rivals in that area. Of course, Layla likes to claim there’s no real competition, she’s obviously the best. And Val makes counterclaims that she is the best. (Riven likes to disagree with both of them, only to end up defending himself from both women.)

Val and Tecna work together on showing more emotion. For Val, trying to keep her emotions in check is a witch thing/power thing and for Tecna it’s because that’s just how Zenithians are. But both are willing to try and be more open with their feeling to connect to their friends and loved ones better. So they try to practice with each other.

Bonus:

Out of the canon boys, Val feels closest to Helia and Riven for different reasons.

She’s known Helia since they were able to walk and have been each other’s rocks. (even if she had assure her cousin that she wasn’t interested in Helia ‘like that’)

(She was there for Helia when his parents divorced and when he decided he didn’t want to continue fighting and sparring, but wanted to paint. He was there for her when she came to realize her sexuality and when she found herself overwhelmed about her... Legacy...)

With Riven, it’s sort of a solidarity thing. He has issues with his mom leaving him and basically considering him only after he’s made something of himself at Red Fountain, sort of like Valtor left Val and really only considered her for her powers.

(They also have similar tastes in music and are both not that great at dancing… So they took lessons together to surprise Musa and Flora.)

Helia likes to tease Val about her romantic side and often helps her with gift ideas for Flora. (His favorite is the painting he did of the two of them, both looking to the other as if they’re the only ones in the realms.)

(Back in the day, Helia and Val were quite the kiddie trouble makers. To this day it is debated who was the worse influence: Val or Helia.)

#long post #asks #darkpoisonouslove asks #about valkyrie #valkyrie aesthetic #valkyrie sylvane #winx club griffin #headmistress griffin #winx valtor #winx club valtor

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frenchy-and-the-sea · 6 years ago

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5 (how they feel after finding out someone lied to them) + Val

I realized after I had written this whole thing that this may not necessarily be how Val ALWAYS reacts to finding out she’s been lied to, because this scenario involves her already being sort of uhhhhh fucked up about something BUT it does show off the fact that she’s got a temper that people fucking with her can conjure up, so I kept it.

Right at 1000 words, set after the sinking of the Tempest.

----

“I’ve heard talk that you’re leaving.”

Even from behind a desk, Samuel Holding should have commanded the room. He had commanded much more than that, with much less, since long before Val ever came into his employ. He had faced down several dozen sea-made horrors himself, and nearly double as many with a crew at his back. He nearly matched her pound to pound, and had a full inch on her, scant as it was. He might as well have been orc-born, for how he bellowed when his anger was ripe.

There was nothing that a mere piece of wood and four walls should have been able to do to make him look this small.

Val swallowed the hard lump in her throat and nodded, turning her eyes to the floor. “Think it’s probably best.”

Through the fall of her eyelashes, she watched as Holding suddenly fixed her with an expression of pity and grief and a deep, black anger that made her stomach turn. Then the look vanished, back beneath his usual stoic facade, and he sagged back onto the corner of his desk with a sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than his bones.

“Pity,” he said at last. “A real fucking pity. But you’ll do what you must, as I imagine you always have. Here.”

He produced a little bag of blue cloth from a pocket suddenly, and tossed it across the room towards her.

“Last advance,” he said, as she fumbled with it, “plus a little extra for….well, you know what for.”

The knot in Val’s throat suddenly wrenched tighter, and she bit down hard on the side of her tongue to keep her voice from vanishing completely as she slowly pocketed the purse. “Thank you, cap’n.”

Holding glowered, but said nothing else. His eyes were fixed sidelong, over to the several waterlogged journals that he had managed to fish out of the wreckage before Alisdair had all but dragged him from the great cabin. Val waited for a moment, trying to summon up the remainder of her wit - to thank him once more, or explain herself, or do anything but watch him stare at those books, the scene of fire and cold sea playing out behind his eyes.

Eventually, though, her courage ran out, and she turned towards the door.

“Val.”

She froze halfway through the movement. Her name had always been “Ankara” in Holding’s mouth, or “Jackie” once the nickname caught on. “Val” had always been for shipmates alone.

Very slowly, she turned back to face him. Holding was still not looking at her, but he was not looking at the books either. The strange pity-and-fury look had returned.

“You should know,” he said quietly, nearly to himself. “You should know, if you’re going to leave. Merrin is dead.”

Val felt a strange fluttering suddenly wrench hold in her stomach, and begin creeping slowly up into her lungs. It felt like ice given wings.

“What?”

“He was dead when you pulled him off the gun deck,” Holding said, scowling. “Elise made it, gods be praised, but Merrin didn’t have a -”

“You said he was alive.” The ice in her stomach punched straight through cold and right into scalding fire. “You checked yourself. Everyone saw you do it. You...you told me that he was alive!”

“I know what I said, Ankara.” Fury and pity were gone from Holding’s stare; when he looked up, his eyes had suddenly become as hard as flint rock. “You were half-mad trying to get them. You wanted to go in for a third. If we hadn’t held you down, if you hadn’t thought you’d done enough, you’d have gone in and died for your trouble -”

“So instead you lied.” Val could feel her breath coming in smaller and smaller bursts as heat began to swell around her. Holding’s office was not small, but neither was she, and she crossed it in three strides. “You looked me in the face, and you lied to me! Lied to everyone! The crew, the surgeon...gods, you sent him off with the surgeon once we got hauled up onto the Lily! Played the whole part for the lot of us! Made me think that maybe I had actually -”

She clenched her teeth against the rest of her thought, shaking with the effort of containing herself. They stood scant inches apart now, closer than she had ever dared to get to her captain while they both stood upright, the thin strip of air between thick with a miasma of heat and sulfur-smell. He stared back at her without flinching

“I was hoping,” he said at last, “if I told you now, that you wouldn’t throw a bloody tantrum.”

The thin film of good sense still keeping the fire back did not break so much as vanish. Snarling, Val lashed out, sinking her claws - untrimmed after her long recovery - into the thick layers of coat around Holding’s neck. He flinched back, but they had punched holes all the way to the skin, and Val hooked them in deeper and yanked him down the last single inch between them.

“You thought wrong,” she hissed, letting Infernal spill out rather than Common as the heat between them intensified. Holding braced himself against her wrist and recoiled away from the scalding warmth like a bandit fighting the brand, gritting his teeth as he tried valiantly to pry her hand away. He looked up, and for the first time, Val saw real fear creep into her captain’s eyes.

The heat in the air recoiled instantly, yanked back inside her with a force that sent her staggering away from where she had Holding pressed against his desk. She heard him stagger too, sucking in ragged gasps of air as he made for the cabinet behind him. Something scraped against the floor behind her, and then a sabre rang against the wall of its sheath.

“Val,” Holding wheezed, but the sound just fed the fire beating hungrily under her skin, and with one last shaking snarl, Val fled the room with both hands smoldering.

#frenchy replies #oc crap #d&d #my writing #valtish #pile of idiots #technically before the idiot brigade got ahold of her but still #I never go all in with val's temper but tbf only a few things have gotten close to it so #HERE YA GO #fortune's favor

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thorbruce-is-lit · 6 years ago

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Thorbruce highschool band au!!!!!!

For @irl-bucky‘s prompt! I finally did it!! Are u proud of me? New content!!!

Bruce stopped himself from fixing his collar for the fifth time in the last 20 minutes. To say he was nervous was the understatement of the century. He couldn't calm his nerves, and it was almost time for the doors to open. It wasn't due to his ‘performance issues’, as Loki would not stop so eloquently saying. He hadn’t had stage fright since he was five and his dad had forced him to perform a piece he’d been practicing for a little over half a day in front of many judgemental house guests. That evening hadn’t ended pleasantly. No, it wasn't anything to do with a fear of performing, it was more specific. It was the first time he was playing the bass guitar in front of anyone, unless you count that tape he sent to Valkyrie. Ever. Her support didn’t matter much in his mind, even if it did convince the rest of the Revengers that he had ‘pure, unrivalled talent’ (Valkyrie did like to exaggerate). He shouldn’t have agreed to this, he should’ve kindly declined Thor’s pleading and puppy-dog eyes. As if he could've.

It had all started two weeks ago after a band practice at Valkyrie’s.

No one knew how she managed to secure a soundproofed apartment a 10 minute walk away from the school, but no one asked Valkyrie about her personal life, and she didn't offer anything. The closest she had come was at her birthday last year when she had procured and drunk at least half a grand of liquor and then stated loudly: “the past is shit. To the present, and future!” and then promptly passed out.

After practice, Thor drove Bruce home, dropping Loki off on the way through. Bruce had given up arguing that he could just catch a bus home after he realised Thor was too stubborn to reason with. At least on this front. So Bruce always tried to make it up to him by inviting him in for a coffee ‘for his trouble’, and Thor almost always accepted. This day was no exception. Bruce let them into his flat and headed straight to the tiny kitchen to put on the coffee, his mind on its usual tangent of ‘what if Thor liked me’. He came back in the lounge area to see Thor studying what he at first mistook to be his new coffee table.

“Like it? Four dollars at the op shop.” Thor turned and gave him an incredulous look, and Bruce realised he’d left his new amplifier out. It was an impulse purchase that he had yet to regret. “Oh, that. i thought you were looking at the new coffee table.” He continued, placing Thor’s coffee down.

“Bruce, why do you have a bass amplifier? You play a keyboard.” Thor asked, amusement evident in his voice. And without thinking, Bruce solidified his fate.

“Yeah, but I also play bass.”

Now in the band that Bruce had been coerced (more like unintentionally emotional blackmailed thanks to Thor’s presence) into joining, there was a slight issue. It wasn’t drums, Valkyrie had that covered just fine. It definitely wasn’t guitar, both Loki and Thor were amazing. It was the bass. All of their songs required it, and while both Loki and Thor could play, there was always an argument. Due to their competitive nature, neither Thor nor Loki wanted to give up playing the guitar for the band, and due to Loki’s nature, an argument always stemmed around whose turn it was on bass. This was also a problem in that they both had to learn two instruments for each song, which made every practice twice as long. Now, while Bruce considered himself just fine on bass guitar, he had never told the rest of the Revengers this. It wasn’t because he wanted to restrict himself to the keyboard, no. Hell, not even half the songs required the keyboard. He just had bad memories of people finding out about his hobby. His father had grounded him for a week for listening to music with bass guitar, and when he found out Bruce played? Well, he wasn't welcome at his father’s house anymore, and he still had scars from that day. But when Thor found out he played bass, and looked at him with those eyes, he couldn't say no. Thor was his kryptonite. So, after almost a year of being in the band, Thor had been the one to discover his secret. Luckily, Thor was somewhat gullible and believed Bruce when he said he’d only been playing for a few weeks. If Loki found out he could play... he shuddered just thinking about it.

So that was how Bruce found himself backstage at some random bar’s slightly rickety performance room, stressing over playing his bass guitar in front of what was bound to be a disappointing turnout. He knew it was irrational, and going off Valkyrie’s input he was the best player in the state (though he was certain she was just sick of hearing Thor and Loki argue), but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to blame Thor’s good looks and loveable personality, but he couldn’t fault Thor for his own inability to say no to the guy! Besides, if he were to try and call it off now he would have to explain why he backtracked, and telling Thor that ‘his insanely good looks and adorable expression made him impossible to say no to’ wasn’t gonna happen. So Bruce sucked in a deep breath and headed out onstage.

“Ah Bruce, We were just about to head backstage!” Thor greeted. “No need to double-check your setup, i have done that for you.”

“Thanks Thor, you didn’t have to.” Bruce replied, smiling nervously and bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Valkyrie pretend to gag. She knew about what she liked to call his ‘insanely sweet and sickening crush on That Hot Guy’, but so far had been nice enough not to tell Thor about it, or about the fact that bruce had called him ‘That Hot Guy’ (”It was one time and I didn't know his name, let it go!”).

“No worries. We should be heading backstage now, it is almost time.” and with that they all went back to the cramped room.

“Bruce, are you alright? You look a little green.” Bruce startled as Thor placed a hand on his shoulder and ducked his head down to look into Bruce’s eyes.

“Yeah all good.” He replied a little to quickly. At Thor’s concerned expression he continued “It’s just, nerves. I made record tapes for Valkyrie, but besides her I’ve never played for anyone before.”

“Well, that’s only natural. You said yourself you’ve only been playing for a couple of weeks.” Thor said.

“Ah, yeah. About that...”

“Have you been playing for longer? A year perhaps? It does not matter--”

“Six...” whispered Bruce, looking down.

“Six years? That is a long time to not play in front of anybody, but if--”

“As in, since I was six years old.” Thor’s dumbstruck expression prompted him to elaborate “I started when I was six, I always liked the music and i got my hands on a miniature bass from the local op shop. Smuggled it into my room. Kept up the hobby for almost 10 years. When my... father.. found out, i was kicked out. Said I was disgracing the family name.” Bruce shrugged. “Never got the courage to play for anyone, but I liked it too much to give it up.” He looked back up into Thor’s eyes to see what looked like regret.

“Bruce, I had no idea. While I do think you have more than enough talent and experience to make this the best show we have ever performed, I will not pressure you into this. If you are not comfortable performing, you do not need to. I can play the bass for this show.” Thor said earnestly. Bruce smiled.

“Nah, thats alright. Your faith gives me all the confidence I need.” And he clapped Thor on the shoulder and headed over to finalise the set with Loki, completely missing the enormous blush spreading across Thor’s face.

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

“That was amazing!” Bruce shouted for the forth time that night to no one in particular. He couldn’t keep the ridiculous looking grin off his face, and as Thor replied ‘No YOU were amazing!’ for the forth time that night, both Loki and Valkyrie bit back their groans and jokes. After all, Bruce had earnt this, and Thor got immunity for finally admitting his feelings to Bruce. The show had gone off without a hitch, the first half being the usual with Bruce on the keyboard and Loki on bass. Halfway through they’d shut off the lights and swapped instruments, Bruce picking up his bass, devoid of any fear, pure adrenaline coursing through his veins as he looked over to Thor in the darkness and nodded. As the lights came back up and they went into their next song, the crowd response was... well, to say insane would be the understatement of the century. There was way more people in attendance than the bar should’ve allowed in, and Bruce suspected Valkyrie was behind it. The show only got better from there, Thor, being able to play as a second guitar rather than the main guitar, added his own electric fills which according to Loki was ‘foolish and incredibly risky’, but paid off if the crowd response was anything to go by. They ended the show on a new song, which in itself was one of their best pieces, but the bass solo that Bruce improvised to close stole the show. Thor literally could not control himself and as Bruce finished he sprinted across the stage, grabbed Bruce’s face with both hands and firmly kissed him. Bruce, still full of adrenaline, had no problem reciprocating, humming approvingly as he positioned his bass so that he could get even closer to Thor. They made out on stage, much to the crowds enjoyment, until Loki and Valkyrie pulled them apart because apparently ‘public displays of affection are disgusting’ and according to Loki they were ‘taking these displays to a whole new level’. Not that they cared. Bruce yawned, stretching his arm over Thor’s shoulders.

“I think I should go home before I fall asleep on your couch Val.” Bruce said, fighting off another yawn.

“I’ll get the keys” Thor said in reply, helping Bruce up and grabbing his keys off the table. Bruce stumbled over to the door and leant against the wall.

“I’m crashing here.” mumbled Loki, flopping face down on the couch and almost immediately snoring. Thor mentally shrugged and followed Bruce out the door.

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

“Bruce?” Thor whispered.

“Hmm?” was the sleepy reply.

“Are you sure I can stay over? I don’t want to intrude”

“Thor, my man, you literally made out with me in front of a record crowd of people tonight” Bruce replied in sleepy amusement.

“A lapse in judgement. I can assure you that it will not happen again”

“Thor. Take off your shirt. Lie down. Spoon me.”

“Are you sur--”

“Thor I swear to fucking god I will rip off your shirt and drag you down here myself if you don't stop doubting how much I love you now get in the bed and shut up I wanna sleep with you.”

“...Are--”

“Oh my god.” And with that Bruce sat up, pulled Thor’s shirt over his head, climbed into his lap and kissed him hard enough to bruise, while at the same time gently cupping his face. An effective method of silencing someone.

#I've never been in a band before so cut me some slack #also i only play drums and i played piano for only a year #so all mistakes are justified #If there are any mistakes let me know #keep in mind its 3am #this was fun #iive been writing for 3 straight hours???#nah more like 10 minutes #thorbruce #brucethor #thruce #gammahammer #thunderscience #thundersmash #i still love that ship name #au #highschool band au #fic #my post

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nehraa-asaaranda · 6 years ago

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Companion Asaaranda

Name: Asaaranda

Race / Class / Specialisation: Qunari Warrior Berserker and Reaver

Gender Identity: Female

Varric’s Nickname for them: Stormy

Short bio: Here

What would their companion tarot card look like?

Recruitment mission: Capturing lightning

How do you get it? When you first get to Val Royeaux after your confrontation with the chantry clerics you will find a group of guards and ladies gossiping. “I told you this place had gone to the dogs” “First the Grand Duke lets that Ox set up shop in his city now (insert derogatory term fitting Inquisitor here) heretics are claiming to start an inquisition!”

A Dwarf walks past them “Talk talk talk and you people still have no idea what's going on.” She walks past them to the Herald “I'm Veronica Varen With the Silverite Smithery in Verchiel ran by Asaaranda head armorer of Verchiel. We have a business proposal for you inquisition folks. You'll have to come by Verchiel to get in on it though. Moving house is too dangerous in this climate without a solid promise. See you lot when ya do!”

Where? Her recruitment mission takes place in Verchiel.

Description: You come into Verchiel a prosperous city under duke Gaspard. It aesthetically seems to have a heavy leaning towards military power than ornamentation. When you come to the forge you see a tall Qunari woman arguing with some Templars. As you approach you hear the woman say “I've already told you. You can pick up the commissions I've finished and have your investment back on the ones I haven't but I'm not making weapons for either side until this whole mess is cleared up.” The Templars shake their heads and walk off with a cart, a horse, and some weapons.

Where they would be in Skyhold / Haven:

At Haven, they can be found wandering between the mounts and the armory.

In Skyhold she can be found in the blacksmith. She expresses her delight at having a place for herself away from Harret's scrutiny. You can also find Lorin and Veronica wandering around there once you finish her quest.

Getting to know them: in her first couple conversations, you can get to know about her time under the Qun and why she left.

Starting Tarot: The tower- her starting card shows her facing away from a falling Qunari fortress.

Personal quests:

Quest 1: The cry of my people

Quest 2: Forged by storm

Quest 3: Roaring thunder

Small side mission: The cry of my people

Asaaranda asks you if you would be willing to help Vashoth as they are being used as scapegoats in this time full of hysteria. In this mission, you have to find and defend Vashoth being attacked by various people in Crestwood and the hinterlands.

After you get the people down to a low hp there is an option to finish them or try and reason with them. (Does not always guarantee the won't just keep taking and have to be killed anyway)

Asaaranda approves of killing them and highly approves of trying to reason with them. Companion quest: Forged by Storm Asaaranda will mention that here is a lack of sophisticated tools at her disposal and that she misses her old forge.

It will also give the option to contact her old crew through the war table which will allow you to go and visit them again reopening her recruitment area. They express interest in where she is now and say that they miss her and things aren't working the same without her even if the pay she sends home is great. You can either ask them for advice or invite them over. (If you invite them they stay here rather than in Val Royeaux and that will grant major approval)

This will unlock a mission to collect stormheart to use in a Skyhold upgrade for her that will give a larger forge and an updated lyrium forge for the tranquil to make more advanced runes.

The effects will be seen on the field. The camps will now have weapon racks and some soldiers will be equipped with enchanted weapons. (Here companions will invite themselves to Skyhold regardless) Tarot card change: her tarot changes to the star. It shows her forging on an anvil as water flows from her work into a pool.

Romance quest: Roaring thunder

Asaaranda's romance quest is opened after you have flirted with her multiple times and you have gained enough approval.

If you have flirted and managed to gain her approval she will approach you in your quarters. She’ll tell you that one of the “Bas” traditions she had encountered as she left Pa Vollen and traveled through Rivain is the lover's knot. A braided thin cord with two round knots that hold a cutting of the lover's hair intertwined. (She mentions that eyelashes are used as a substitute in case of baldness) Cut into two pieces and wrapped around the lover's wrists. The search ability will alert you of an item to be found. After searching you will find a cutting of her hair left on your bedside table.

Should you accept you will need to get gurgut webbing to create the lover's knot. And then you can invite her out, you will meet her in the Gazebo in the chantry gardens and give her the gift. Tarot card change: Courage shows her in a flowing dress walking side by side with a Tiger towards a green light with a hand reaching out.

How to get their approval: Straightforward decisions and following through, helping the needy, respecting other traditions, fighting dragons and wyverns, Siding with Briala through Gaspard or just Gaspard

How to get their disapproval: If you say you will do one thing and then do another, claiming to be the Herald, disrespecting people's beliefs and sacred grounds, Siding with Celine

Are they romanceable? Yes

Orientation: Bisexual, likes Non-binary and Female partners.

If you are smaller than her you’re cute. If she likes your personality a lot your attractive and if you can kick ass you’re hot.

Race gate: No race gate

If they can be romanced and are not, will they begin a relationship/relationships with other character(s)? If so, who?

If Leliana was not romanced and is softened Asaaranda will express interest in her and there may be some rumors of courtship happening but Leliana keeps it quiet for the most part. The inquisitor has the choice to encourage and help this pairing or dissuade Asaaranda.

If those conditions are not meet or the inquisitor dissuades her, Asaaranda will begin a romance with Veronica and they will be married in trespasser.

Who are they friendly with?

Cassandra is a close friend, she finds a familiar comfort in her presence and they enjoy the same pass times (yes that includes books)

Varric’s stories become a great escape during even the most grueling of missions and she offers her own back.

Though you might not expect it Vivienne’s Wisdom on magic is greatly valued during this time as she tries to learn more on the subject but is also assured safety as she learns

She respects Blackwalls honor and dedication. She finds his presence to be warm and doesn't mind spending time with him even if just in silence. Her opinion of him does not change after revelations.

Iron Bull (conditional read below) She tries to help him learn how to be a true Tal-Vashoth and the find they have much in common through this.

Who do they dislike?

They dislike The Iron Bull until after his personal quest IF made Tal-Vashoth (then she will become good friends with him). If reaffirmed as a Qunari she refuses to speak to him and avoids him as much as she can.

Sera She doesn't understand how she thinks. If she fights for the “little people” why does that not seem to include those discriminated against like the Dalish, Mages, and those of different religions just because you don’t agree with or like them. She also finds her disrespect infuriating. It doesn't matter if you believe something different, be kind.

Solas’ way that he uses magic and thinks that his casualness should be normal sets her edge. She manages to stand him for the most part. And can be convinced to be more amicable with him.

Mages, Templars, Other?:

Asaaranda will vouch for the Templars as a stronger military force and will admit she knows little to nothing about mages but is wary of it. Regardless of choice, she will give Great approval for free allies and Disapproval for them chained.

Something to make them leave the party: An alliance with the Qun will cause a scene where she will want to leave. Her personal quest will have to be completed and you have to have extremely high approval in order to get her to say.

Special Events:

Imprisoned at Redcliffe: How is your companion holding up in Redcliffe, being slowly infected with red lyrium over the course of a year? When Asaaranda is found she speaks mainly in Qunlat and broken common. She is eager to fight and no longer fears death but instead wants a quick and worthy end.

At the Winter Palace: Does your companion enjoy the party, any special events with them at the Palace?

Asaaranda stays in the trophy room and has a few comments on people whose ornamental weapons and metal works she made. She fiercely supports Gaspard or Briala being put into power behind him. There is a dance scene with her if you are romancing her.

In the Fade: Your companion’s reaction upon entering the Fade? Archdemon’s taunt, and Inquisitor’s response? Epitaph on their grave?

Asaaranda is stoic but a bit freaked out about the place. She checks to make sure everyone is ok and immediately urges to find a way out as quickly as possible.

Asaarandar will mention that the fearlings look like ben-hassrath when the inquisitor brings up the “spiders”.

Her tombstone says “Qamek”

Trespasser: What is your companion up to two years after Corypheus’ defeat? Any special events with them over the events of Trespasser?

Asaaranda has opened a business on the outskirts of the Val Royeaux market. Her now bolstered reputation has made this possible. (More to add later if I feel like it)

Fighting Style

Asaaranda is a Reaver and a Berserker. Her attacks focus on doing as much damage as quickly as possible.

#darp #dragon age rp #headcanon #Asaaranda

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kpopcametoslayourlives · 7 years ago

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Secrets Out - A JB Oneshot

3rd POV

“Naya! Let’s go! We’re going to be late for class!” A girl shouted from the main gates to the school, waiting for her other friend who was arriving a bit late to school this morning because she had to take care of her little cousin before leaving, and mistakenly lost track of time.

“Chillax Val, I’m here aren’t I?” She replied to her friend as she completely ran passed her and went towards the school building.

“You’re on school grounds, not in class. There’s a big difference!” Val replied as she started to run behind Aniya to catch up with her.

Aniya had cocoa brown skin and short hair, much like her height, only standing at 5 foot 4 inches. She usually wore glasses but she just recently got contacts which allowed more people to better see her dark brown eyes.

Her friend was a girl named Valerie. She was a Peruvian girl with eyes that changed from brown to hazel to green from time to time, and long brown hair. They had been friend for almost two years now, having met each other last year in a dance class. This year they were still together in a new dance class and had made two new friends, Jessica and Breanna.

The four of them were practically inseparable and did everything together, and told each other absolutely everything about anything that ever happened with any of them.

Like Jessica moving in with her boyfriend even though she’s only 18.

And that Breanna started dating her best friend after finding out he liked her and soon returned his feelings.

Valerie was just chillin. Single as a Pringle and ready to mingle.

Aniya had a boyfriend that she had been secretly dating for around two months now. His name, was Jaebum. Known as JB by his close friends.

The only people to know that they were dating was Val, Jess, and Bree. And JB’s friends Jackson, Mark, Yugyeom, Youngjae, Jinyoung, and Bambam.

Not even their parents knew, mostly because neither family could properly keep a secret when it comes to their children.

“Geez guys, took you long enough to get here.” Jessica complained as Aniya and Val finally got to their English class.

“Hey don’t blame me for being late, I had to take care of my cousin.” Aniya said as she raised her hands up in the air to prove her innocence.

“Whatever, I still blame Valerie for it all anyway.” Jessica replied, laughing at the mildly offended look Val gave her.

Jessica was your typical blonde hair blue eyed beauty that was definitely more on the petite side.

Breanna had shoulder length brown hair with the ends dyed blonde, brown eyes and braces. She was currently texting her boyfriend and smiling like an idiot at whatever it was they were talking about.

“Awe, it’s so cute it makes me sick.” Val said as she placed a hand over her heart but somehow still managed to look disgusted.

“You’re only saying that because you’re the only one here who’s single.” Breanna fired back.

“Woah there, I thought Valerie was bitch number one?” Aniya said as she ducked for cover from the shots being fired.

“I still am bitch number one, so stay in your lane bitch number three.” Val said as she playfully swatted at Bree’s short hair.

“Haha I lied, bitch number one coming through.” Aniya said as all four girls laughed and started teasing each other. Being the nicest one in the group she was bitch number four, leaving Jessica as bitch number two.

“What’s so funny over here?” A new voice chimed in.

“Jackson!” Aniya shouted happily at seeing her best friend.

“Hey Naya, Jess, Bree, Val. How’s it going?” Jackson replied smiling and full of energy as always.

“Nothing much, bitch number one just showed up, that’s all.” Breanna replied pointing at Val.

“This early?” Jackson asked looking at Val a bit surprised.

Said bitch number one merely shrugged her shoulders in response to the accusations.

“Ya’ll should know by now my inner bitch shows up whenever she damn pleases.”

More laughter came from a group of boys watching by the back of the classroom.

“Believe us, we know.” Jinyoung said with a terrified look on his face. Not surprising since he was often the one on the receiving end of most of Val’s bitchiness.

Valerie however was too busy noticing the look that one of the guys in the back was giving Aniya.

Park Jaebum, or JB as he prefers to be called by his friends and the girls, was openly staring at Aniya, who was staring back just as open.

“If you guys want to still keep it all a secret I suggest not eye fucking each other in the middle of the classroom right when the lecture is about to start.” Val said only loud enough for their little group of friends to hear.

Both before mentioned people had blushed at the words of advice that came from their cherished friend.

“We told you bitch number one came out early today.” Jess said as she tried not to laugh at the embarrassed expressions on both JB and Aniya’s face.

“Alright class, take a seat, class is about to begin.” The teacher said as she made her way to her desk.

~•~

Three hours later all eleven found themselves in the dance room getting ready to pack up and head to lunch.

Jess and Bree had already finished changing back into their other clothes from their dance clothes while Aniya was still tying her shoes.

A few seconds later the guys walked in.

“Finally its lunch time, I’m starving!” Bambam wailed as he rubbed his stomach which was growling angrily at him.

“Before that aren’t we missing some people?” Mark asked as he did a head check and only came up with nine instead of eleven.

Bree however merely jerked her head to the middle of the dance floor where Yugyeom and Valerie were going over the choreography they had just learned and were changing up some of it to make it their own. They always did this. After all, dancing was a passion for the both of them.

“Huh…” Aniya said as she watched the two move in perfect synchronization to the beat of the music. Popping and locking with the base of the song.

“What is it?” JB asked while trying to see what Aniya was.

“I never actually noticed how good they would be together if they were to start dating. I mean look at them.” Aniya explained as everyone turned to look at what she was talking about.

Both finished dancing the part that was choreographed and just started fooling around with the rest of the song, laughing and fake battling each other.

“Oh no.” Youngjae and Jinyoung said at the same time.

“What? I actually think they would be good together now that I see it.” Mark said as the others agree.

“It’s not that they wouldn’t be good together, it’s just that, can you imagine the evil maknae and bitch number one dating, our whole lives could hang in the balance.” Youngjae said as Jinyoung shivered at the thought.

Everybody else’s jaw dropped at the realization.

“Sorry we made you guys wait.” Yugyeom said as he walked up to the group followed by Valerie.

“We’ll change back really fast so we can get food, yeah?” Val said as she and Yug ran off to change.

~•~

The entire walk to the cafeteria JB and Aniya were side by side making small talk.

“I hate how we’re hiding the fact that we’re dating. Why do we have to keep it a secret?” JB asked as he looked at you longingly, wanting nothing more than to just kiss you like he’s been wanting to all day since he first saw you this morning.

“Because you have fan girls that neither one of us wants to deal with.” JB sighed at the truth of her words.

Flashback (sort of)

He remembers when they first started hanging out, just the two of them from having to work together on an English assignment and his fan club went crazy and started threatening her to stay away from him. But they didn’t stop there. They started pushing her in the hallways, tipping her chair in class and at lunch, and even started throwing things at her.

No one ever knew about it though because she kept it to herself.

One day though the fans went too far and pushed her down the stairs. The staircase has roughly ten steps but that didn’t make it hurt any less being pushed down them.

After ending up in the nurses office however Val, Jess and Bree all demanded to know what happened. After spilling the beans bitch number one through three all came out and ready to fight.

As bitch number one Valerie was the first one to live up to her reputation and marched right up to the queen of the club and shoved her right up against her locker.

“Alright, listen here bitchstick, I don’t know why the fuck you think it’s okay to push my friend, my best friend, down the stairs just because she is working with Jaebum on a project. It wasn’t even her idea to be partners with him, that decision is up to the teacher and them alone. And another thing-” Valerie was cut off by Yasmine’s scoff.

Yeah, the bitches name was Yasmine. Not even Jasmine, but Yasmine.

“Look Victoria,” Yasmine started but was cut by Val correcting her.

“It’s Valerie.”

“Whoever, just because Anita-”

“Aniya.” Val corrected again, thoroughly getting irritated.

“Just because Anita was chosen to be with JB doesn’t mean she has to fling herself all over him trying to kiss him.”

“Woah there, now you hold on just a second there bitchstick. What do you mean try to kiss him. Aniya is shy in general when it comes to people she hardly talks to, what makes you think she’d muster up any kind of courage to do that to him?”

“I don’t know, I just know what I saw, and what I saw was her all over him. And would you stop calling me bitchstick?” Everyone pretended not to hear her last question and instead focused on the other thing that was said.

Valerie didn’t understand what Yasmine was saying nor did she believe it.

“Aniya’s also a bit clumsy, maybe she slipped, tripped, or fell over a step or even her over own two feet and Jaebum was just there to catch her and help her out? You know, like a gentleman?” Breanna said adding in her two cents.

As soon as the words gentleman left Bree’s lips Yasmine did a one eighty.

“Oh he is a gentleman isn’t he?”

As the bitchstick rambled on and on the three best friends who came for blood and answers were starting to get irritated.

But instead of it being bitch number one who threw the punch, it was bitch number two, Jessica, who got the first strike against the bitchstick.

A few seconds in bitchstick had a few friends show up that Val and Bree were able to get their hands on, and soon it was an all out cat fight.

“What the hell?” Almost immediately Yasmine and her two cronies stopped fighting and insisted started crying for their lives.

“JB oppa! Help us from this crazy bitch, she’s attacking us for no reason!”

“N-no reason?! What the hell do you mean ‘no reason’, you pushed our best friend down the stairs just because she had the misfortune of being paired up with this, this…” Val yelled, trying to find the right words to describe Jaebum who was standing right behind her with his friends staring on wide eyed.

“This shrimp dick fuck nugget!”

Yasmine practically screeched at the insult while Jaebum tried not to look too offended, and his friends were trying not to laugh.

Bitchstick and her friends all lunged at the girls and the guys immediately sprang into action.

Yasmine’s scream from earlier must have been loud enough to have alerted the teachers because soon enough two teachers came from around the hallway and tried to break up the fight.

~•~

“Alright, somebody tell me what the hell just happened.” A teacher said and he rubbed his eyes, feeling them begin to throb with a headache soon to be coming his way.

He along with the other teacher who helped stop the fight and the principal who was called were all in the nurses office along with bitches number one through four, bitchstick and her cronies, and the masculine seven.

Soon all the girls were speaking at the same time.

“They came out of nowhere and just started attacking me for no reason.” “Oh that’s bullshit bitchstick and you know it! As soon as I confronted you didn’t even bother denying anything, but now that your precious shrimp dick fuck nugget over here is around you’re trying to play the victim, who is really Aniya because you’re the hairy ass that pushed her down the stairs in the first place!”

“Valerie, language!”

“Excuse me!? Hairy ass? Just who do you think you are calling me that? My ass isn’t hairy JB sweetie, it’s not. You believe me right?”

“Uhh…”

“What do you mean not hairy? I saw you over the summer at the beach! It’s like that scene from White Chicks. When’s Don King going to pop out and say "Born in America.”?“

"Shut up bitch, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you even have any proof that it was me?” Yasmine finished the yelling spree as everyone quieted down at the question.

But instead of being stumped at the question Valerie smirked though you could see it in her eyes that she was still pissed off.

“You mean besides Aniya, the actual person who witnessed it all, saying it was you? I think I have more physical evidence.”

Everyone watched as Val walked over to Aniya’s bag and searched through it before pulling out a small wad of papers. Then she walked over to Yasmine’s bag and did the same, except for pulling out a wad of papers she pulled out a note book.

“Along with shoving her in the hallways, nudging her chair at lunch while she was eating, you were also throwing things at her. Throwing things like threatening notes.”

Valerie opened Yasmine’s note book to the first page that had her hand writing all over it in her pink sparkly gel pen, then opened the wad of papers showing the same pen and hand writing on the threat notes.

“If the jury could look closely at the resemblance.” Everybody scoffed trying to hold in their laughter. “This is the same pen and hand writing of the one, the only, bitchstick.” Yasmine looked like a deer caught in the headlights, clearly panicking.

The principal stood from his seated position and took the 'evidence’ from Valerie’s hands. He looked it over for a few seconds before sighing.

“Miss Yasmine, would you and you’re friends please come with me, back to my office.”

The three girls followed but were protesting the entire way. All that was left were bitches number one through four and the masculine seven, and the two teachers.

“Well, now that this mysterious crime has been solved.” The teacher started, pointedly looking at Valerie, following up on her judge and jury joke. “Why don’t the rest of you get cleaned up and then take Miss Aniya home, school has been over for the past twenty minutes already. Go home and get some sleep, all of you.”

As soon as both teachers left it was quiet in the nurses office, awkwardly so, painfully awkwardly so. Until Aniya burst out laughing that is.

Everyone around her was looking on in confusion or concern.

“You okay there Naya? You didn’t hit your head too did you?” The only thing she could manage to do was shake her head 'no’.

“Then why are you laughing so hard?”

“B-because of V-Val! Hahaha! Those insults were amazing!”

It took a few seconds for her words to register in everyone’s mind, but when it did Mark and Jackson were the first to laugh, everyone else soon following.

After the girls bandaged their wounds they all made their way home. But because of the directions they all lived they had to split up.

That night Aniya was walking alone with Jaebum, and that was the start of their relationship.

From that day on he walked her to and from school, him and the guys started eating lunch with the girls. Their groups merged together.

End flashback scenes

“It all seems so long ago.” Aniya said as she too remembered everything.

“I wish you didn’t have to have gone through all that.” JB said while tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m actually glad it happened in some weird twisted way.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, it’s how we stared dating and how we all became friends.” JB smiled at Aniya before humming in agreement.

~•~

Everyone was now in the cafeteria, Aniya and Bree being the only two needing to go through the lunch line because everyone else brought food from home. In the lunch line Bree went towards the sandwiches while Aniya went to the nacho line. While waiting Aniya spotted a poster on the wall next to her.

School dance this Saturday night at seven. $10 for singles tickets $15 for couples tickets Be there or be square. Theme; masquerade

“I completely forgot about the school dance this weekend.” Aniya said out loud, unknowingly catching someone’s attention.

“Are you going?” Aniya turned her head and saw none other than Kim Jongin, otherwise known as Kai.

“Um, I’m not sure yet but probably.”

“Yeah? Who are you going to go with?”

Aniya froze, she couldn’t say JB, they were a secret. She couldn’t say Jess or Bree because they both have boyfriends. And if what everyone saw earlier in the dance room, Val would probably be going with Yugyeom.

“I’ll probably just go solo but hang out with my friends.”

“Well that would be no fun. Why don’t we go together instead?” Aniya was frozen in shock, not only because was Kai one of the most sought after males in the school, but because of who was behind Kai when he asked.

“JB.” She whispered in shock as he strode up to Kai and grabbed him on the shoulder.

“She won’t be going with you.” Kai stared wide eyed and in confusion.

“I don’t believe I asked you, Jaebum.”

“But I’m still telling you, Jongin, she’s not going to the school dance with you.” The boys were unknowingly causing a scene. Aniya noticed it though.

“Um guys?” They ignored her in favor of continuing their own conversation.

“Who are you to tell Aniya who she can or can’t go to the school dance with?” Kai asked, finally starting to get irritated, but so was JB.

“I’m her boyfriend, that’s who I am to tell you that you can’t take her to the school dance.” Aniya along with everyone else who was watching, and recording thinking a fight would happen, gasped as the words left his mouth.

“JB!”

Aniya shouted, finally gaining his attention.

Looking around JB realized that the secret was now out, but he wasn’t really that mad.

“I don’t care that our secrets out. We’ve been hiding for two months.” More gasps were heard. “And if anyone try’s anything, they’ll have to answer to me.” With that being said JB finally did what he’s been wanting to do all day, and kissed Aniya.

~•~

Kai had walked away as soon as JB let go of his shoulders, his job was done after all. He walked up to Valerie and took the $50 that she held out to him.

“Nicely done Kai, or would you prefer I call you Nini?” Kai smiled.

“Nini, I like hearing you say it. You were the first one to ever call me that. I was actually kind of sad when you stopped.” Val smiled at him.

“I’m actually surprised that this worked out though, considering you do have a girlfriend. Speaking of which Krystal was okay with this right?”

“Of course she was, she knows I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“Good, just because you’re also my best friend doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if you hurt my Krystal Unnie.” Kai only smile again before ruffling her hair and turned to leave but paused really quick.

“Hey Val, what’s up with you and Yugyeom?”

“What do you mean? He’s a great friend and a great dancer, I respect him greatly.”

“Have you ever thought of him as more than a friend?”

“Why?”

“I just noticed how well you two would look together. Not to mention the way he looks at you.” Val blushed and smiled while looking at the floor. “So you have thought of him that way.” Val nodded slowly.

Kai chuckled.

“Just remember that if he ever hurts you I’ll kick his ass, I’m still your childhood best friend, remember that.” Kai said while walking away.

Valerie smiled to herself as she walked back to the table to tell everyone what happened, sitting closer to Yugyeom than what she usually did. Instead of scooting away though he just smiled at her.

That would also definitely be going somewhere.

Okay guys, this was a story I wrote for my best friends from high school, we were all Kpop addicts and my friend had begged me for a story pairing her with JB, so this was lowkey like a crack fic just because of how wild it was haha but still a story that I had immense fun writing. Let me know if you want a sequel for a continuation of this story or like a second one about Valerie and Yugyeom and about their story. Check out my other stories if y’all have time!!

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