#i do not understand how their time travel works. if future chase had to die to save gert doesnt that mean he still has to die again later? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

foodieforthoughts · 4 years ago

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Sand and Stars - Chapter Four

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 1752

Warnings: 18+, slight fluff, drinking, consumption of alcohol, smut in future chapters (we are getting there!)

A/N: I loved writing this chapter. Sy is grumpy and confused, but I finally got something for him to be excited about! Thank you to @thelastsock again for being so helpful and beta-reading my work. Leave a comment, like or reblog and tell me what you think will happen next? Enjoy!

<Chapter Three

Title: Chapter Four

Syverson was not a man to be lingering on a woman’s attention for so long. He liked the chase, but his ego was fragile and if his attempts seemed futile, he would stop. But this time, a certain red-haired woman sat across from him had made it almost impossible to steer himself away.

Sy watched as Olivia clapped Schmidt on his chest, her head falling back as her laugh echoed in the night. She had her hand on the other man’s pecs, her body shaking with their shared joke and her face lit up like the fourth of July. Sy had noticed the bond between Olivia and her second in-command. He admired that they had an understanding, but he also desperately wanted to take Schmidt’s place in Olivia’s life.

Sy sighed, running a hand across his buzzed head and looked at the other soldiers sitting around him. It had been a whole week since the last time he had met Olivia at the gate. He really had wanted to pull her by her scarf and give her a long, ravenous kiss. But when she had turned away from him, he had felt stupid and angry at himself. Stupid because he was a grown-ass man acting like a teenage boy and angry because he had never subjected himself to devastating humiliation before.

Sy had chosen to walk away and since avoided Olivia the best he could. He had assigned separate patrolling hours so as to not run into her. He stayed put in his office most of the time or had chosen to take more trips to the village. He was trying so hard to dismiss all thoughts about her, but she lingered in his mind despite all his efforts.

Last night Sy had heard her voice from his adjacent room. At first, he thought he was hallucinating, conjuring her voice in addition to thoughts of her as he started to fall asleep. But then he had peered outside his room, only to spot her and the other ladies playing cards with his men. He had debated joining them, potentially walking into the trap of her entity and ruining the minimal self-control he had managed to regain. With a huge sigh and a grunt, Sy had closed the door and thrown himself on his bed before covering his ears with his pillows.

He had been successfully avoiding her for that whole week when he was informed about the party her unit had planned for her. Sy was amused to learn that it was her birthday the next day. The plan, he was told, was to have some drinks and chill on the rooftop with music until lights out. He could have stayed in his room but the urge to wish her a ‘happy birthday’ at midnight was too strong. So here he was, sitting on the floor with a glass of whiskey in his hand and watching Olivia as she spoke to her friend.

Schmidt had bumped into him with an armful of blankets to take up to the roof. “If only we could get whiskey for the Sergeant, she would be the happiest,” he had said, running up the stairs. Sy, with the new found information, had gotten a bottle of his treasured, fine Irish whiskey from his secret stash and handed it to Schmidt as soon as he had arrived on the roof.

“Come on, tell us something we don’t know.” Sy watched as one of Olivia’s men pitched in, slurring his words as he spoke while taking support of the man beside him.

Olivia was also visibly drunk, smiling sheepishly at her men. Sy noticed the flush on her skin, a faint rosy tint appearing on the apples of her cheek. Her hair was tied in a loose braid, falling over her shoulder and resting on her breast. Sy took a sip of his amber liquid as his gaze lingered on the ends of her braid caressing the soft swell of her chest with her movements.

“What do you want to know?” She asked as she placed her elbow on Schmidt’s shoulder. Sy let out a slow breath through his nostrils as he observed the close proximity of their bodies. Involuntarily, he felt his grip tighten over his glass.

“Anything from your days of being a Private!” Someone interrupted. Sy was too busy to note who was the person that spoke as he was busy following Olivia’s every move. As she began describing her days in the camp, Sy let his eyes travel down her body. She was leaning back on her hands now, with her face looking up at the sky as she reminisced about the past. They all had their fatigues on, except Sy, but she had unbuttoned the top three buttons, exposing her collar bones as she wore no t-shirt inside. Sy took a big gulp of his drink as he feasted on the minute details of her enchanting body.

“Tell us about Captain Coop!” Sloan announced from beside Sy. He turned his head looking at the blonde resting her back against her man. BJ had become a complete sucker for the woman for which Sy had had a private talk with the sergeant about the code of conduct and how he cannot throw out his bunk mates for his campsite romance.

“No!” Olivia remarked, throwing her hands up in the air. “Not him, not tonight.”

“We need some gossip to live by in this dump, Sarge.” Sierra commented from a corner, clutching her bottle of local liquor close to her body.

The mention of another captain had piqued Sy’s interest. Worry clouded his mind as he went over the idea of someone waiting for Olivia back home. He frowned at the thought and grabbed a hold of the bottle of whiskey to pour himself another drink. Sy had been so busy romanticizing himself with her, he hadn’t bothered to find out if she was single.

“Well-” Olivia started just when the lights went out. With a resounding groan, she was cut short as everyone around her stood up on their wobbly legs to wish her happy birthday. The sound of her exuberant laughter rang in Sy’s ears as her unit members enveloped her in hugs and kisses.

Sy stood away from the huddling group with his drink in hand. His men stood beside him, letting Olivia’s comrades speak first. Sy couldn’t help but smile as Olivia hugged each one of her team members with delight apparent on her face. He had noticed the way she treated her men. Unlike many from the enlisted army, Olivia viewed her unit more like her family and less like people who worked under her.

It took several minutes for the excitement to die down as people started to retreat back to their quarters. Sy stood leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched everyone walk by him towards the door. Schmidt was the last one to leave but not before wrapping Olivia in a hug and then picking up the bottle of whiskey on his way out of the door.

“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday, Captain?”

A whole week Sy had longed for her to address him. Seven days of absolute hell for him to ignore her yet want her. Olivia stood a few paces away from him with her hands wrapped around her body as the wind picked up. Sy pushed himself off the wall and took slow steps towards the woman who currently occupied his waking thoughts.

When he came close to her, her warmth caressed his body against the cold. She had a dopey smile on her face and her big brown eyes looked up at him with anticipation. He gulped as his gaze travelled down to her plump lips noting the sharp points of her cupid’s bow.

Olivia shivered as a strong breeze blew past them. A few strands of her hair had come loose and flew onto her face. She tried to tuck them behind her ear but Sy caught her hand instead. Her hand fell away, Sy following the movement with his eyes where his hand left hers. He gently pushed the hair away from her face, his fingertips tingling with the feel of her soft skin against his.

“I’m sorry for being rude that night,” Olivia whispered, closing the gap between their bodies with another step. Sy took a sharp breath as she plastered her body flush against his. He could feel her curves against his, marveling at how pretty she looked under the moonlight. Her eyes gleamed like liquid gold as they looked up at him.

Sy brought his other hand up to her cheek, holding her face with both of his hands. He watched as she wet her lips with her tongue and her gaze dropped down to his own.

“Are you going to kiss me?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Sy felt her hands on his waist, clutching his t-shirt in her fists.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to finally taste her on his lips, feel her moan into his mouth. He wanted to suck at her bottom lip until it was swollen red. But he debated with himself, his lips tingling with the anticipation of the kiss he had been dreaming about.

With a slow, shuddering breath escaping his mouth, Sy closed his eyes. He touched her forehead with his, breathing in the scent of her. She smelled like lavender, a hint of rose and whiskey too. “Not like this.” He whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want our first kiss to be like this. You shouldn't be drunk, and I shouldn't be fighting this urge.” He opened his eyes to stare into hers. “You don’t know how badly I want to kiss you, but we’ll wait for it to be memorable.”

He looked at her, waiting for her to react and expecting her to feel hurt or rejected. But she smiled back at him instead and nodded. He kissed the top of her head gently and pulled her in for a hug. Her arms couldn’t reach around his body, she laughed drunkenly as she struggled to clasp her hands behind his back. The sound of her unrestrained chuckle filled Sy with joy and a satisfaction that all hadn’t been lost between them, that he need not ignore her anymore.

“Happy birthday, little birdie.” He whispered as he pulled Olivia tight into his embrace.

Chapter Five>

🌟Series Masterlist🌟

#captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sand and stars series #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic

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papers4me · 4 years ago

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Fruits Basket, Se3, ep 12 (Part 1)

The aftermath of the curse lifting~ Btw, the timeline is super messy. Flashbacks & background stories aren’t this anime’s best tool, it’s always felt messy when they attempt that. more on it in my side notes below. Now into the ep~

-Yuki & Machi: ( Blossoming Love!):

I love that the author attempted different direction of romantic love with yuki/machi that suits yuki’s personality! Opposite to kyo/tohru who had the (from best friends to lovers/ from roommates of 3 years to lovers). Yuki & machi’s love is based on natural crush & while she isnt his best friend, she’ll be his lover & they’ll know each other after dating. Both types of love are realistic & have their own path of dynamics, which is clear with how yuki/machi will be interacting & how kyo/tohru are now interacting since becoming official. I’m still bummed most of yuki/machi’s “noticing each other” is supposed to be off-screen, it robbed me of seeing yuki interact in a normal teenage-boy crushing on a girl which contrasts his relationship with kakeru, kyo, haru & tohru. Now, we’ll start the “ official-boyfriend yuki” stage! Also, this jump to confessions didnt help machi have any uniqueness beside being saved by yuki’s words from her trauma. watching her interact with him normally would’ve added realistic depth to her being a normal girl with unique cute quirks differently from tohru, Isuzu, kagura or even motoko!. Oh well~ moving on & focusing on the meaningful cute confession. I loved that altho there were a hug & a kiss, it didn’t have “ I love you” statement. You know they (will) love each other so dearly, but they’re in stage 1 now, she just called him by his first name for the first time! cute! I love that the emphasis is on the “ first name” calling since this is a huge key to yuki’s identity & struggle. Also, It is cute she bought a gift to tohru! This is a set-up to a healthy relationship with yuki since she isn’t jealous from a precious woman in his life that isnt related by blood.

-Moving towards the future: Kyoru’s final stage of growth!

By Kyokoy’s grave Kyo & tohru had key moment of growth & healthy closure to their core character issues::

1- Kyo’s toxic habit of running from life became a desire to run towards life!: While this habit is rightfully excused by his trauma, it needed to be addressed once his curse broke. We know he stopped running & faced his dad, confessed to tohru, accepted her love, embraced his crazy desire for her & accepted he deserved to be loved! Even ran towards tohru, chasing her! However, all the above is him running to the good current life in his grasp. He needs to run to the far away future this time! Needs to plan for the good & accept that the bad is part of it. struggling is part of life & he’ll endure it together with her, while enjoying life’s rewards.

I love that kyo is the one who suggested moving out to another city/place, cuz kyo was the one NOT living. He was long dead & trapped in the cage of his guilt & self-loath. Tohru at least was living thro helping others ( which is not real living but at least it’s better). Kyo was “ Mom, why didn’t you kill me instead of yourself?” ,“ I’ll kill yuki & then kill myself, would that please you, dad?!”, “ I cant forgive me, I dont want you to forgive me, tohru”. Walking on a road of self-destruction & slow death. But now, with tohru he wants life!!! all of it!! travel, learn, see, struggle, fail, succeed, build their own future by themselves.

I love that kyo didnt take tohru’s approval for his plans for granted. He really didnt think she’ll accept right away. He didnt even want her to dedice quickly, He was prepared for compromising to a better solution for them both. They’ll work other possibilities “ if i’m gonna live in this world, I want to do it with you”.

I love that kyo was real abt the obstacles ahead & didnt want tohru to just follow him based on love. He wanted her to decide on her own as well. He also, left the door open for her to change her mind anytime & this screams support & understanding!! Very powerful!.

2- Thoru’s toxic habit of being ashamed to desire anything for herself, living for others & wearing a happy “i’m okay” mask while concealing her true feelings became confidence, self-clarity & honesty: The tohru who was smiling while concealing grief on the beach is gone, the tohru who kyo had to coax her to “complain, be selfish” se01,ep5, to “not hide worrying over a relative’s sickness” se02, ep14 “ cry if she needs to” se3, ep6, is now telling kyo her honest opinion abt his proposal, while thinking of her own self as much as him & even objecting to his sentiment abt her mom’s words!!!!

I love that tohru is now a confident free woman making her own decisions based on self-honesty & communication with her partner. She wasn't just “okay” with it cuz he wants it while putting fake smile, No more of that. Now, she’ll say her true feelings, she asked him abt his plans, tried to see if it is a spur of the moment decision or if he really thought abt it. She also inquired where’s heading, who he talked to, what he’s planning! She is deciding for herself after hearing him! ok, this is your plan? I like it. I’m going! Very powerful!.

I love that like how kyo was realistic abt the plan having some difficulties due to starting away by themselves, she was also realistic that it is indeed sad to part with my friends, my hometown, & my mom’s resting-place, but i’ll choose ME now. “I” want to go with you for “me”. This is not a bind I’ll follow you wherever love story, this is realistic depiction of healthy relationship. Acknowledging hardships & accepting them saves you from being crushed by failure, you’ll endure it when it eventually happens & move on, cuz God knows we DO fail & succeed! Life isnt smooth sailing~

I love that tohru complemented him on his plan cuz she could see that is a sign of growth. If she’s gonna share her life with this man, it is delightful to see that he is thinking of a happier, healthier & realistic future! Cuz kyo was this destroyed man~ so destroyed he was pushing her away despite loving her dearly, now, he’s asking her opinion & permission to accompany him!

I love that tohru made sure to touch upon kyo’s last scar “ my mom doesnt hate you” This is a scar that wont go away even if kyo is mentally healthy. Cuz death is the ultimate truth. He can never hear kyoko’s affirming her love for him, he’ll have to trust in it based on their earlier interaction together. Tohru is powerfully & stubbornly taking away most of his pain by affirming her acknowledge of her mom. You might disagree kyo, you might still feel a bit guilty, it might haunt you sometimes. but me? NO. Never. Mom loved you. She meant ONLY good. Hopefully my determination heals you bit by bit, & it DOES. Kyo stands bravely, confidently & happily in front of kyoko’s grave & instead of saying “ i apologize for hurting you, or tohru, I’m sorry, forgive me”. he tells her he’ll keep their promise & protect tohru for life! he literally proposed there in front of her mom & all. T_T

-Kyoko’s Words: ( Sometimes, you don’t get to know the whole truth & that’s okay):

Can’t describe how much I love this part. This is the most painful yet important lesson in furuba. Life isn’t a movie where the entire truth is exposed to the characters or the audience. Sometimes you live & die without getting to know an important truth, hearing a much needed confirmation, or getting a loved one’s forgiveness. There are things in our life that we just can’t get back no matter how much we tried. What we do, then? die? despair? throw away what we DO have in our hands for this lost truth no matter how important it was to us? No, we do the only thing we can. Live. Not just go thro life’s motion, but really live. Accept the good & the bad. This is so goddamn easy & difficult as hell too!

-Kyo not knowing kyoko’s words at that time was tragic. It was so tragic it sent kyo into a suicidal descent into the abyss. The wounds of his mom’s death that were slowly healing with kazuma’s care got re-opened & poured blood! The old destructive habits became full force, The toxic coping habits returned with its ugliness. I can’t kill myself literally? I’ll do it figuratively. trapped, caged, destroyed, eyes shut, ears closed, only seeing his pain. Kyo is us. All of us in any moment of true crushing despair. He could never bring the dead back, hear their loving words or ask forgiveness. Thro kyo, the author is telling us... I know. You had your moment of lost truth, didn’t you? I know. IT IS OKAY. live, my child. your pain is valid, let it take its course, but afterwards live bravely.

-Kyo’s path towards healing is: the ugliest cuz it hurt tohru of all ppl, the longest cuz he was the last one to move on, the bloodiest cuz he’ll never have the ppl he lost, the rockiest cuz he failed & failed, the most frustrating cuz he repeated his mistakes over & over, He couldnt even do it alone. needed intervention & support. He lost hope. completely. But it is okay even if you fell as deep as kyo: stand up. even if you never learned the truth: let go. even if you were the last one to learn or heal: it isn’t a race. Embrace life with its good & bad & continue as kyoko said “ you fought well”

-Kyoko’s parting plea to her daughter broke my heart into pieces. Death is ugly, but death is a truth that we can’t escape. The leaving ones is hurting as much as the ones left behind, but hopefully, the leaving ones will find a happiness a kin to the ones left behind. yuki’s "say a prayer & move one, one step at a time” is all you can do.

-Kyoko was: a gangster who hurt others (ugly path), repented, married & had a daughter (fulfilling path), widowed & left her daughter while grieving (ugly path), came back, repented & tried to raise tohru well, love her enough! (fulfilling path), died & left her young high school daughter all alone (heartbreaking path) but she accepted that the last path isn’t sth she can fight, prayed, & accepted her fate~

-Kyoko~~ “ you fought well” while you were alive~ you really did! The Tohru you left behind helped a whole clan & hopefully readers as well! you tohru is loved by an entire generation of readers & anime watchers. Tohru is so precious & I can’t stop crying~

Side Notes:

Timeline is super messy & confusing. (a) Tohru’s hospital discharge, kyoru’s hug & curse break for everybody all happened at the (late) afternoon. While curse was breaking, akito was wearing her white kimono & she cried until tohru hugged her on sunset. (b) Before tohru’s hospital shigure’s face was scar-less. we first saw the scar in the afternoon & he was wearing his kimono.

Now the flashback, Akito wearing her outfit from her talk with the maid (which also happened while kyo was talking to his dad which is on the same day) & shigure wearing suit & it’s sunset time??????? How can the sunset happen before the curse break on the afternoon? She inflected the scars on the sunset, how did he have them on the afternoon of the same day?? both changed outfits which is even weirder??? Someone help me put things on order. Or is order not important? If the sequence of events isn’t important, then, why did it have to happen on the curse break day??? Shigure could’ve had his scars a day or two before tohru’s discharge.

Also the OP started in the middle of yuki’s scene which was so odd!

No big deal, but I still feel that yuki’s curse break would’ve been thematically powerful last ep. Especially after seeing The Zodiac Ruler come & collect the spirits. The legend would've been wrapped powerfully on the same ep where it was told. We see the zodiacs’ original story & we see its closure. It would’ve made tohru/akito’s hug more symbolic. An end of an era to akito & to them all. Real Goodbye to the zodiac animals, but now we had a goodbye & a half. lol.

Is yuki the only one seeing the cursed spirit? He looked down at it? I dont remember the others looking down where an animal would be? Is yuki’s curse special? different? He got all the ropes/bonds around him? I really thought yuki’s theme is all abt desiring to be normal & despising the “special” treatment that haunted him even in school.

Momiji/ kagura /kyo interaction is cute!

Haru/Yuki/ Isuzu interaction is cute as well. XD

Kagura, girl, you used to have best fashion, what’s up with jeans under knee length dress?! lol.

I’ll be honest. It is a lost opportunity that machi weren't made to question how teen-tohru is yuki’s mom. That would’ve solidified her as a unique stand alone character if she were to discuss it with yuki. Tohru being yuki’s mom figure is not normal, otherwise yuki’s entire dilemma of figuring out his feelings for tohru would’ve become meaningless. Having machi quickly “understand” it is a bit weird. But it helps the plot move quickly, I guess. ( it reminds me of Arisa hugging akito when she confessed stabbing kureno without questioning anything, it is weird, but you get the message that “ we aint got time for that~ gotta hop on the next plot).

I love that furuba subverted the old anime-trope of the entire happy cast staying together in one city/place & living exactly like they did in their teens except being married now! XD. It is so realistic that each character is now moving on their path of life~

Tohru wore a ring in her foreshadowing vision! SHE WORE A RING! My baby girl is a grown woman now~ T_T. I love tohru so much!~

Shigure/ akito & the last banquet is in my review part 2. I’ve been editing out any thoughts abt Shigure from my previous posts. I needed to see the whole picture first. I think can now talk abt them, I’m looking forward to the comments of the next part cuz I really really need to see if I understood it or if i’m off.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #crying paper #proud paper!#tohru is just so precious!#final season #Part 1

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walpurga-nacht-academy · 4 years ago

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“Any practitioner of magic that’s received even a modicum of training in the field has, at one point or another, heard of the term ‘grimoire’. Its origins are shrouded in mystery, its purpose unknown and the power that it possesses inestimable. However, their prevalence is also fading.

As magic studies become more and more accessible to mages of all walks of life, it is considered futile for witches and warlocks to keep personal tomes of spells and hexes anymore. The uniformization of magical practice has brought about an age in which collaboration between our kind is considered not only beneficial, but also ideal. The practice of taking apprentices is no longer an individual choice that each magician makes for themselves, and thus the need for secrecy - the fear of others invading our most personal matters and thus robbing us of our knowledge has become quite absurd.

Nowadays, grimoires have started to gain a reputation as old-fashioned magical tools, relics of the past or tools of forbidden lore. Less than 200 remain still, collected by the Ministry of Magic’s illustrious archivists and kept in many museums across Twisted Wonderland for easy access to those that seek to expand their knowledge. Yet despite their heavy efforts many of these crucial tomes fall prey to the passage of them, deteriorating as their magic fades away. Preventing the loss of these books is quintessential, if not for us, then for future generations. Thus, many countries have launched conservation projects in order to salvage what is left of our inheritance.

It is due to these projects that my own efforts have not been in vain. For years I have searched all over the world to recover and preserve the eight grimoires which had once belonged to the eight great witches of the Bald Mountain, figures shrouded in such mystery that these books are considered the only valid proof of their existence. They are thick volumes, averaging about 1,000 pages each, something quite unusual for that period, and written in codes and foreign languages that have long passed into obscurity. Translating them required intensive work and research, and even so I was able to conquer only sixty percent of the original text. The rest will be lost to history, I am afraid to say, for there are few people able to interpret the original dialects and signs of these spellbooks.

I hope that in the future there might be somebody more courageous and ingenious than me, who will decipher these tomes in their entirety. There is precious knowledge to be learned from these pages, power that has been lost over time, and power that might help the future. It is thus my request that for every person who reads this book detailing the journey I have taken since I decided fourteen years ago that I must resolve this mystery and prevent it from slipping through the cracks of progress, that you think to dedicate a little bit of time and money to the eminent researchers that still struggle to maintain their memories alive.

In this regard, I would like to dedicate this book to the many people and organizations that have made possible the publication of this volume. First, there is of course the Magical Research Board, The Ministry of Magic and the Magic University who have kindly and dutifully supported me financially. The research grant that they have awarded me with has helped me carry my investigation through several countries, as well as access resources that would have been otherwise impossible for me to make use of.

I would also like to express my gratitude towards the ruling families of the Afterglow Savannah and the Valley of Thorns, for their generosity in allowing me to study the history of their kingdoms in order to better understand the social and political dimensions to two of the witches’ that are said to hail from these places.

I would also like to thank all the translators and historians that have taken time out of their busy schedules to help with my manuscripts - pointing out translation errors, mistakes regarding historical dates and events, or even my continuous use of the word “mystery” of which I am guilty even in my opening chapter I must sadly admit! Thus, I would like to mention among many Miss Line, and her lovely daughter Safia, whose generosity saved my life when I was to drown at sea;

my Lord Duban of the Land of Hot Sands, who enchanted me with tales of viziers and street rats who court princesses;

Nefu, whose knowledge of the low town in the Savannah rivals none, I am sure of that;

Lord Himalia of the Land of Pyroxene whose heart is as great as the acres of land he owns;

old, wise Louisa who welcomed me in her hut before her beloved Cockatrice managed to tear me to shreds;

my dear friend Daphne, whose courage is greater than even the rage of a Kerberos breed when it sees its owner attacked;

Thursday, who proved to the world that despite their short stature dwarves should not be taken lightly after all;

and General Vanrouge, whose skill with the sword is as unmatched as the knowledge he possesses. To all of them, I would like to express my sincerest, heartfelt gratitude for the help they have given me. It is truly unmistakable that good friends are more valuable than a thousand golden statues!

Though they are departed, I wish to thank my parents as well, for having instilled in me such good morals and values. I am eternally grateful to all your guidance and love, and hope that you rest safely above in the sky.

Last, but not least, I would like to thank my dearest Alkin, who is first among familiars and friends alike. His companionship and experience has proven to be invaluable to me during my travels, and there are no words to express the warmth with which I regard my beloved brother.”

- Introduction to Of Grimoires and Pledges: A Study of Eight Texts that Shaped Our Understanding of Modern Magic

Grimoire of the Rose

In the sea I used to be a poet.

You do not believe me. That is alright. I understand. My speech is stilted. My pauses are long. My mind, once sharp and swift as the marlin’s gait, now always searches its corners for words that came easily before. I have forgotten them all now. I glance around with wild eyes. The vastness around us scares me.

You think, ‘Ah, this woman is not well.’ And perhaps you are right.

You think, ‘She must have suffered greatly.’ That is not so.

Please do not pity me. I do not deserve it.

As all fools I’ve made peace with myself.

As all wise men I wish to warn others.

Forgive me. Speaking in your tongue is hard for me. But please bear it. I would like to tell you my story. It is not long or sad. Just short and silly. You will surely laugh as you read it. That is alright. I wish you would laugh. It eases my soul when I hear others laugh. It reminds me of the ocean.

But I wish to tell you my story. Please listen.

It starts with a beautiful princess born in a wealthy kingdom.

No, that princess is not me. I was born on the shore, among the sand and shells, under the great night sky. I have never seen a palace, nor worn a gown. I have heard that they are beautiful. Princesses wear them at balls, with golden slippers and dance away the night. This princess must have worn one too. She must have been very beautiful. And loved. All beautiful women are loved.

No, I do not know what made her beautiful. I have never seen her. But I like to imagine it must have been so. It helps me rest.

As I said, my story starts with a princess born in a wealthy kingdom. She was her father’s only child, a sweet, delicate girl with fair hair and golden eyes.

Yes, I am lying now. For I never laid eyes on her. I say these things because it helps me rest.

I am repeating myself? Forgive me. Your tongue is difficult for me. I wish to tell you my story. Will you listen?

My story starts with a beautiful child, born to a widowed king, who paid three gold pieces to the undertaker to build a temple over his wife’s grave, where he went to pray every evening. I do not know why humans built temples. My kind does not.

I have asked him, but he did not know either.

He loved her too. They all did. She was beautiful. All beautiful women are loved. I was loved too. I was beautiful too.

My story starts with the birth of a beautiful child, whose father built a temple ashore the land where my mother had borne me. It was the darkest night she had ever seen, and the stars shone bright. My mother cried as I came out, small and pink and weeping. I was so small I fit in her arms with ease. She was frightened I would die of cold. She bundled me up and ran to the sea.

You think it’s strange. That is alright. Forgive me. I will explain.

My mother ran with me to the sea, for my father was giving chase. She reached the waters before he had a chance to grab her. That is as well. For if he did, he would have pulled my mother’s skin away.

Yes, my father loved my mother. All men love us. They cannot help it. It is their sin.

He found her upon the beach and took her to his hut and made her his wife. She bore him sons, I don’t know how many for I never asked, and then me. My father’s world came crashing down upon him. My mother wept with joy. When I came she knew Mother Sea would welcome her back. She bore me upon the shore so that Mother would bear witness.

When mother’s feet touched the water, she had already been gone. I do not know if my father followed. I think he must have not. Mother Sea does not welcome his kind. You cannot breathe when Mother holds you. That is very pitiful.

Forgive me. Your tongue is difficult.

There are no men among us. It is only us and Mother. She loves us deeply and we love her. And the men that Mother hates also love us. It is a difficult love. No, I do not know if we love the men too. We must love them. We swim every year to the shore to take our skin off and be like them - the human women that they love. And they love us too. Because we are more beautiful than their women.

Forgive me.

They love us, and they desire us. They take our skins and bring us to their sheds and take us in their beds. We bear them sons and mend their clothes and curse the land we live on and love them dearly. We cannot help but love them. No, it is not love. It is love. Your tongue is very difficult.

We love them and we love them. We must, for Mother no longer loves us when we love the men. She does not recognize us anymore. She cannot hold us when she doesn’t know who we are. She is frightened of us then. So we love the men because we cannot love Mother anymore. We miss Mother. But she doesn’t miss us.

It is very pitiful.

When we are human we cannot love Mother, so we wait for daughters to be born so she will love us again. No, only daughters. Never sons. Mother does not love our sons. They cannot see or hear Mother. But daughters - us - we can. I heard Mother before I had been born. She sang to me of the sea foam, and the waves and of my mother’s skin and where my father hid it. I told my mother this. She dug the chest buried underneath the juniper tree with her bare hands as I sang to her. She was crying because she heard Mother’s voice in mine.

I do not know what happened to my father. I have never returned to that shore. I have never met my brothers. I do not wish to. Mother does not either. She told me to be careful. She held me to her breast as we watched the angelfish, and told me to never go to the land of men and take off my skin. She told me to keep away.

But it was a waste. She knew this. We must go to the shore every year. We must take off our skin.

My mother did so the next year as well. I never saw her again. She must have been found by another man. That is as well. I would soon follow in her footsteps.

My story starts with the birth of a fair child, beloved by all, and especially by the young poet who wished to marry her. He was a handsome man, but he was poor. This is unfortunate in your land. Forgive me.

Why did he love the princess? Because she was beautiful. All beautiful women are loved.

Yes, all beautiful things must be loved.

Why?

Because they are beautiful. That is all.

The poet loved this princess because she was beautiful, but she did not love him because he was poor. It is a pitiful thing.

Yes, I loved the poet too. Because he was beautiful. No, I did not love him. I loved him. Your tongue is very difficult.

I wish you could understand.

He did not understand either. Though he was a poet. It was odd. He told me he could not hear me sing when I spoke, and did not hear me speak when I sang. But Mother hears us. She hears me and my sisters as we sing-speak and speak-sing to her. Only Mother can hear us.

But still I loved him.

Yes. No, I did not love him. Please understand.

I sang to him under the night sky and he kissed my lips. I spoke to him about love and he kissed my cheeks. He loved me on the shore until dawn. No, it was love, not love. Forgive me.

When Mother released the sun from her hold, he kissed my eyelids. He had beautiful lips. I loved them dearly. He was a beautiful man. All beautiful things must be loved.

He did not take me for his wife. He loved the princess.

‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘Forgive me,’ he said.

I am repeating myself. Please understand.

‘You are taking my skin,’ I told him. ‘You are taking my skin. What will I do without my skin? Mother won’t take me back without my skin.’

‘Forgive me.’

He spoke so sweetly. Do you understand? All beautiful things must be loved.

‘The princess of this land - I love her dearly. I wish to marry her. But I am poor. I am not worthy. I wish to be worthy. The princess - she wishes for a coat more beautiful than the sunrise. I have searched this land - from the mountain to the sea, from the fields to the hills, but I have not found a coat more beautiful than yours.’

‘I cannot give you my skin,’ I told him. ‘You must take me as your wife. I cannot give you my skin for another. I must have my skin to return to Mother.’

‘Forgive me,’ he said. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids - and then he was gone. He took my skin to the princess. She loved it dearly. She loved him dearly. They were to be married within the year. She wore my skin as her veil. It was a beautiful veil. It was a beautiful wedding.

All beautiful things must be loved.

I gave chase. Yes, I did. I followed after him - my husband.

I called to him. But he did not stop.

I wept for him. But his heart did not yield.

I wept for Mother. But she could not hear me.

I wept for our Master. He said I was a fool to trust the word of man. He thundered. He roared. He drove me away with arrows made of fire and spiteful words. He did not care. He did not listen.

Please listen.

I wish to tell you my story.

There was once a child born upon the land where a temple was built with just three gold coins. This child was so beautiful that when she spoke, the birds would listen to hear her song. When she danced, the ground would soften underneath her feet so no harm would come upon her. When she smiled, the sun bowed so it would not deter from her beauty.

He loved her. She scorned him. He was poor. It is a pitiful thing.

I loved him. He loved her. I loved him and loved him.

Your tongue - forgive me.

She came to me upon the shore.

All beautiful things must be loved.

My husband - he left me upon the shore. He took my skin and left. He loved the princess. I loved him.

I wanted to return to Mother. But Mother did not love me anymore. She did not hold me. She could not hold me. I wept. Mother’s arms - they seemed to wrap around my throat. I could not breathe.

She came to me upon the shore. My Lady.

My sisters - they tore away their skin. A leg, an arm, a breast, an ear - they had sewn it all together. They gave the coat to me. They said Mother would hold me now.

She did not. She could not.

I loved Mother. I loved and loved and loved and loved and loved and loved and loved Her.

She could not love me. He did not love me. She did not love him.

They were to be married within the year.

It was a beautiful wedding.

It was a beautiful veil.

‘My skin,’ I said. ‘My skin, my skin, my skin - You must take me as your wife.’

‘I do not love you.’

‘You must. Mother does not love me anymore. You must.’

His roots went deep. They touched her mother’s grave. They touched my mother’s grave.

He loved her. She loved him. No, not love. Love.

Please understand.

All men love us. It is their sin. We must love them too, when Mother no longer loves us.

Please understand.

‘My child, my rose,’ she spoke. Her eyes were so sweet. I wept. She kissed my eyelids. She kissed my tears. All beautiful things must be loved.

I loved him. I let him bloom. I gave him light. I gave him water. I fetched it every day from the well and watched him grow. My husband.

It was a beautiful wedding.

‘My child, my rose, my sweetest heart.’

She held me. Mother could not hold me. She held me and kissed me and loved me.

Your tongue is very difficult.

‘I do not love you,’ my husband lied. ‘I cannot love you. I do not want to love you. Please understand.’

All men love us. It is their sin.

It was a beautiful veil.

Forgive me.

I am repeating myself.

Forgive me.

They take us from the shore into their huts and into their beds. We bear them children and mend their clothes and curse the land we live on and love them dearly. And wait for daughters to be born.

Every year he gave me blossoms. I crushed them underneath my feet. He fed on my blood.

I loved him. And I loved her. And I loved Mother. And I loved her.

‘My child,’ she kissed me. ‘My rose,’ she kissed me. ‘My sweetest heart,’ she kissed me.

I sheath myself in wicked thorns and sing of my Lady’s love.

Please listen. Please understand.

My mother’s grave. Her mother’s grave.

He took her into his hut and into his bed. He took her into the garden and stripped her of her skin. He hid it underneath the juniper tree where mother heard me sing.

All men must love us. It is their sin.

She was a beautiful child. He was a dutiful king. He paid three gold pieces for the temple. It was made of stone and wood and the bed inside it was warm.

They take us from the shore and into their beds.

I loved him. He died in spring. I burned him. I kissed the ashes.

Mother would not listen.

Mother could not understand.

It was a beautiful veil.

Forgive me.

Your tongue is very difficult.

I wish to tell you my story.

Please listen.

Notes

“Translating this introductory part of the grimoire has proven to be by far the easiest part of my endeavour, as there has not been much to translate at all. It seems that unlike her sisters, the Witch of the Rose wrote in the common tongue of that time, which fortunately for me is not very different from our current one. Line tells me this might be because the language of the selkie has no written form. In fact, its complexity is so great, no written form could properly capture its beauty.

It is an interesting notion to me, a student with meagre interest in languages, at the very least before I become employed in this project. There is no proper way to prove this, however, as according to what Line tells me, she can barely remember even the few things she picked up from her grandmother. It is so with every selkie that lives on land for too long - slowly they forget the tongue of Mother Sea (an ancient pagan deity, I believe) and learn the tongue of their husbands. Line herself seems to remember mostly old songs that she teaches to little Safia too so she can remember her ancestors even a little. She tells me they are the last ones.

Line’s great-great-grandmother was taken from the sea by her husband as well - a practice which was considered normal back in the day - and as she never managed to have any daughters was forced to live the rest of her life on this foreign land. She tells me this story with a sort of melancholic detachment as she brushes her daughter’s long, golden hair. This is standard for their species it seems - all daughters have golden hair and golden eyes which makes them look terrible and inviting to the men that come across them.

Line also tells me that the selkie language has over 34 words to express ‘love’. She says that the witch must have been trying to capture them all as she wrote down her confession, but she can only remember a few of the ones her grandmother taught her. Thus, there is ‘love gleaned from above the sea foam’, ‘love that is realized by the stroke of midnight’, ‘love which blooms only at the wake of dawn’, ‘love which burns one as they feel it’ which is different from ‘love that scorches one as they let go of it’. She does not know the word for the love felt for one’s husband, but she tells me that the love for one’s daughter is translated as ‘love for a budding flower which blooms on the bottom of the ocean’.

She tells me all this with a mournful look - the expression of a woman who knows that when she passes there will be a little less of her legacy left. The grimoire that I show her has a shell accessory on the cover that when opened produces the most beautiful melody in the world. When I showed Line this she started weeping and once she calmed down she explained that it was the same song that her grandmother used to sing when she was little. I believe it must be an old folk song, though she cannot confirm it for me, since she admits that there are barely any words that she recognizes. Though she can tell with some certainty that it is a song of forgiveness - that the witch is begging her mother to welcome her back to the sea. Little Safia listened to the song as well, but I could tell that beyond the soothing melody nothing stuck out to her at all. It broke Line’s heart.

I stayed there for almost two months learning what I could about the selkie. It did Line good too since she felt that even if she were to die, little Safia and her children would not be robbed of her heritage. I was touched by this sentiment - so much that I swore that once I have finished my business collecting and translating the grimoires I would make sure to amass in one volume the entirety of Line’s teachings during the time they graciously let me stay there.”

- Of Grimoires and Pledges: A Study of Eight Texts that Shaped Our Understanding of Modern Magic

“It has now been more than ten years since I have made that promise, which I have managed to keep after all. If you were to look in any library right now, dear reader, you might spy tucked away in one of the shelves a little book of no more than 100 pages, more than half filled with illustrations and drawings, while the other half is full of songs and poems and little phrases that Line shared with me as we sat huddled around the fire at night. I’ve been told it is a commercial failure - that nobody but the most dedicated anthropologists give it more than a glance. But it does not matter to me. It took four years for the 100 copies to sell. I have recently ordered 100 more.

To others these books might be nothing more than curiosities, oddities, a change of reading material - but it is not so. Not in the slightest. These are the words and experiences of a woman whose ancestry has been erased almost entirely and plunged into obscurity. By no means can I simply let her life or history be disregarded in such a manner. Especially now since I am the only one left fighting.

It was two years after I departed from Line’s house that I received a letter from the young lord who oversaw the village she lived in. I was in the midst of a lesson with Old Woman Louisa when I was informed that due to a tragic accident little Safia lost her life at sea, followed three months later by her mother who died of grief. I was left numb by the news - barely registering it at all and inconsolable for weeks after. I had to leave Louisa’s abode as my mourning made the beasts under her care uneasy, and with no goal in mind simply proceeded forward to the Isle of Lamentation. A fitting spot to vent my grief.

I have had the good mind to send the young lord a letter asking him to keep the hut in which they lived in good condition, and returned there two years after my travels ended. It is now a museum, my dear reader, dedicated to Line, Safia and all the women who suffered at the hands of their destiny by being taken from their home to live on these strange lands. The last that will even suffer this destiny, for Line and Safia’s deaths did not mark merely the loss of two great souls and hearts from the world, but also the loss of an entire species. There are no more selkie that roam the ocean, and if there are any on land they must have long forgotten they even were.

To them I wish to dedicate this small volume that I have compiled, relying on the memory of the most wonderful woman I have ever met in my life, and the innocence of the sweetest little girl that I have had the good fortune of knowing.

May their souls rest among the stars, free of pain and suffering, curled in Mother Sea’s bosom.”

- Songs of Mother Sea: A Short Guide to the History of Selkie Culture Through Poems and Music

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #astra selene #witch of the rose #selkie #twist #twisute #twist oc #twisute oc #fanmade lore #twisted wonderland fanschool #walpurga nacht academy #the little mermaid #postmodern fairytale #fractured fairytale

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germanicseidr · 4 years ago

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Frisii

This is a rewritten post on the Frisii tribe, my previous post is over a year old so I wanted to update it by adding more information.

The Frisii were a Germanic tribe who lived above the Rhine in areas that are now known as modern day Noord-Holland, Friesland, Groningen, the Wadden islands in the Netherlands and East-Frisia in Germany. They should not be confused with the Frisians, a tribe which settled in the same area at a later time period, The Frisians and Frisii are however not completely foreign to each other, some Frisii stayed behind and were absorbed by the Frisians, the oldest still existing Germanic culture. The Frisii were neighboured by the Cananefates to the south and Chauci to the east, the west and north were part of the north sea.

The meaning of their name is derived from the Proto-Germanic word 'frisaz' which means 'curly'. There is a common misunderstanding that the word Frisii, and the later Frisian, comes from the word freeze/vriezen or freedom but this is not correct although understandably a good possible meaning.

The origins of the Frisii is still a bit unclear but there are viable theories. Unlike other tribes, like the Chatti, Lombards, Batavi, Cananefates etc.. who all migrated southwards and settled in their territories around 100BC, the Frisii are a lot older. In fact we do not know how old exactly they are but there are several theories:

The most likely theory is that the early Frisii, also called Proto-Frisians, migrated southwards from northern Germany and Denmark around 1000BC. Somewhere around 700BC they migrated from modern day Drenthe towards modern day Friesland, Groningen and Noord-Holland. There is however a more controversial theory that suggests the birth of the Frisii started with their patron-mother the Goddess Freya.

According to this theory a line of matriarchal rulers, known as folk mothers, were descendants of Freya herself and responsible for the creation of the Frisii, this would mean that the origin of the tribe is not around 700BC but around 2200BC. Here is a line of Frisii folk mothers starting with the Goddess Freya: Freya - somewhere around 2000BC Fasta, Medea, Thiania, Hellenia, Minna, Rosamond, Hellicht, Frana, Adela and Gosa. Of course if there was a continuous matriarchal line for about 1500 years long, this would include many more names but those are lost in time. This theory is based on the information found in the Oera Linda book, a highly disputed manuscript worthy of its own post so I will write about it in the near future. An altar stone has been found near modern day Xanten however with the following description: "MATRIBUS FRISAVIS PATERNIS" which could refer to these ancient Frisii matriarchs making the Oera Linda book theory possible.

By 100BC the Frisii were quite a large and powerful tribe who had established themselves fully in their current territory. Their first encounter with the Roman empire was around 12BC when Drusus Germanicus, one of Rome's most succesful generals, invaded Germania with the intention to turn the land into a province of Rome.

Drusus Germanicus, not to be confused with the other Roman general called Germanicus, was incredibly succesful with his invasion. He subjugated every Germanic tribe in his path including the Frisii who were forced to be allies of Rome. The Romans also built a fort, their most northern one, at modern day Velsen to keep an eye on the Frisii. It is likely that all of Germania would have become a Roman province if Germanicus didn't die after a fall from his horse in 9BC.

The Frisii delivered auxiliary troops to Rome and they had to pay taxes which led to high tensions between the tribe and Rome. The taxes were incredibly unfair as the Romans demanded large skins of cows which did not even exist in Frisii territory, they only had a small breed of cows. This rising tension eventually led to the Frisii revolting against Rome in 28AD. The Frisii hung Roman tax collectors which infuriated Rome.

Olennius, a Roman centurion in charge of Frisii administration, escaped the lynching party and hid himself at Castellum Flevum, the most northern fort the Romans ever built. The Frisii however marched onwards to this fort but were unable to capture it, archeological research shows traces of heavy fighting at this fort. The Frisii retreated back towards their sacred grove dedicated to their Goddess of war, Baduhenna, luring the Romans with them.

The Romans chased the Frisii right into the sacred grove. This was however a dreadful decision since the Frisii knew their swampy estuary terrain very well and were extra motivated by being in the presence of their battle Goddess. Almost all of the Romans were slaughtered, 900 of them, some according to legends, were captured and sacrificed to Baduhenna right in her grove. Another 400 Roman soldiers killed each other out fear of treachery, the event has been quoted by Tacitus:

"Soon afterwards it was ascertained from deserters that nine hundred Romans had been cut to pieces in a wood called Baduhenna, after prolonging the fight to the next day, and that another body of four hundred, which had taken possession of the house of one Cruptorix, once a soldier in our pay, fearing betrayal, had perished by mutual slaughter." - Tacitus

The Frisii name thus became famous in Germania and Roman emperor Tiberius tried to keep the Roman defeat a secret, not wishing to entrust anyone with the war because of the shame. The Roman fort in modern day Noord-Holland was abandoned after the revolt and the Frisii became free people once again and remained so until the medieval ages.

The earliest known written record that we have about the Frisii comes from a Roman poet Albinovanus Pedo. In one of his poems, he describes a disaster that occured during Germanicus' campaigns to avenge the Teutoburgerwald battle. This disaster took place around the Eems river in Frisii territory around 16AD and involves a storm destroying parts of his fleet:

"For a long time they had left the day and the sunlight behind them, for a long time they looked exiles from the well known part of the world, who had dared to go through forbidden darkness to the boundaries of nature and the furthest coast of the earth.

From here they saw him, the sea, carrying huge monsters under slow waves with rising wild whales and the dogs of the sea on all sides grabbing ships. The fleet was already in the mud, left behind by a rapid storm. They believed that their unfortunate fate was to be torn apart by these wild sea monsters.

The world was robbed, nothing could be distinguished, his breath was taken from him, and thus he spoke from his heart: Where do we end up? The day itself is fleeing and nature closes the rest of the world with eternal darkness. Do we sometimes look for people untouched by wars? The gods call us back, forbid that mortal eyes see the end of everything. Why do we violate a strange and consecrated sea with oars? Why do we disturb the silent dwellings of the gods?" - Albinovadus Pedo

The next written mention is quite an interesting one. It involves a dispute about land on the Roman border area. Two Frisii leaders, Verritus and Malorix decided to travel to Rome in 58AD and defend their case about this piece of land. During their stay in Rome, they amused the Romans greatly by refusing to sit down amongst the common people in a theater exclaiming that: "No people can match the Germanics in loyalty and bravery!" They then proceeded sitting down next to the Roman senators present in the theater. The Roman emperor, Nero, found the whole event quite amusing himself and granted Verritus and Malorix roman citizenship. This account, described by Tacitus, is also the first account of foreign tourists visiting Rome who were mentioned by name.

In 69AD, during a particulary tough year for the Romans, the Batavi revolted against the Roman empire. The Frisii joined this revolt which was initially quite succesful. Unfortunately the revolt was put down by the Romans the following year, resulting in severe trust issues between the Romans and the Batavi and Cananefates.

By 98AD Tacitus published his work 'Germania' and also provices us with a small description on the Frisii. He separated the tribe in two parts, the Frisii Maiores and the Frisii Minores. The Minores lived in what is now Noord-Holland and the Maiores lived in what is now Frisia and Groningen. Here is a description on the Frisii landscape:

"The terrain is fierce, the climate is rough, life and landscape are bleak. You only come here if it's your homeland." - Tacitus

No significant recorded events exist after 98AD, the history on the Frisii between 100AD-300AD is pretty much unknown. We do know that parts of the Frisii joined the Cananefaat pirate/proto-viking Gannascus in his raids on several settlements, mainly in Gaul. These attacks infuriated Rome and led to improved defenses being built by them. Gannascus is eventually assassinated by the Romans under the pretence of a negotiation which caused great outrage amongst the Chauci, Frisii and Cananefates. The Roman emperor of that time, Claudius, feared a violent conflict with these tribes and withdrew Roman forces from the Rhine in order to ease tensions.

Around 300AD the Saxon confederation came into existence and bordered the Frisii directly to the east. The Western Roman empire started to decline rapidly during this time period as well leaving the borders vulnerable for invasions. With the Huns invading Europe, economic hardship, climate change, failed harvests and empty Roman borders, came the great migration. Many Frisii migrated either southwards to become absorbed by the Franks or to the west by invading Britannia together with the Angles, Saxons and Jutes. Only very few Frisii remained in their original homeland, we have archeological evidence that some did indeed stay.

Frisii lands were now almost completely deserted until the arrival of Saxons and Jutes who settled the area together with the few remaining Frisii. These new settlers started to call themselves Frisians, after the ancient Frisii. The Frisians still exist until this day and they have a rich history which deserves a post of its own, which will be coming very soon.

The last thing I want to mention is the auxiliary troops that the Frisii supplied Rome with. The Notitia Dignitatum, a Roman document that describes details of the administrative organisation of the empire, mentions a Frisii cohort stationed at Vindobala, a fort located at Hadrian's wall. This entry 'Tribunes cohortis primae Frixagorum Vindobala' however contains a possible spelling mistake, Frixagorum instead of Frisiavonum. This entry might however also refer to the Frisiavones tribe unrelated to the Frisii.

Here are images of: A map showing the location of the Frisii, A reconstruction of Castellum Flevum, A depiction of the Frisii fighting Romans by an unknown artist, A reconstruction of a Frisii fortification, A small piece of a Roman helmet, bottom left, found at Velsen where once the Castellum Flevum stood which was attacked by the Frisii, A depiction of the Goddess Freyja, the ancestral mother of the Frisii, from 1874,

#History #Germanic #Germanic Tribe #Frisii #Dutch #Pagan #Freyja #Freya

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sillyandquiteawkward · 4 years ago

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little father and bayley fic under the cut bc i forgot my ao3 password and im lazy. hope you enjoy

Food supplements and leafy greens sat on Doctor Bayley's plate, which he picked at distastefully. The Director of the Institute, Father, sat across from him, making decent headway with his own meal.

"I don't think I can ever learn to enjoy the food supplements. This flavor isn’t palatable either," Bayley curtly complained with a heavy sigh. He felt Father's lingering judgement upon him for refusing most of his meal again, without even having to look up. He poked at the slab of supplement with the tines of his fork. Even the various flavors the Institute boasted of supplements couldn't save Bayley from the pastes, powders, and bars turning his stomach. He was trying his best to find a flavor he could stand, but to Bayley, even mirelurk was easier to eat. At least the fresh vegetables were decent, if not simply boiled or baked if cooked at all. "I'd kill for some real meat on your menu."

"Come now, Doctor, we have little need to slaughter irradiated animals for food in this day and age. BioScience has developed the perfect meal dozens of times over, consisting of the exact amount of daily nutrients a man like yourself needs," Father replies coolly. Bayley glared at the older man. Of course he'd like them -- he grew up on the damn things. Well, Bayley grew up on real food!

"Designed a food that doesn't even fill your stomach," he mumbled behind his mug as he took a sip. Now to their credit, this was something Bayley actually liked. The coffee wasn't stale 200 year old beans and grounds. My god, they perfected the damn synthetic coffee and Bayley couldn't imagine going back.

Father confidently smirked, passing smoothly over Bayley's remark with a gentle shake of his head. "You poor surface dwellers, eating any and all the food you can scrounge to stave off hunger. I'm glad we were able to save you from that life. Give it time, Doctor. Your stomach will re-adjust to your new diet."

Bayley scoffed dismissively and set his fork down to keep nursing his coffee. Father took his own sip of tea. The pair fell into a dip of silence, accompanied by the gentle clink of silverware against plate as Father continued to finish off his lunch. Behind them a few tables over, there was a slight chatter from another pair of scientists in the cafeteria. Licking a crumb of food supplement left on the edge of his mug with a grimace, Bayley listened to their distant hushed conversation. Sounded like gossip about another scientist’s love affair... Hard to believe that even the “perfect” Institute could be filled with, what was ultimately, humans.

Father spoke up after a minute of Bayley straining to eavesdrop, "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Doctor?"

"...Why?" Bayley eyed Father suspiciously. "Don't you already know all about me? Isn't that why I'm here?"

Father took a warm sip of his mug before continuing. "I know about your reputation, or lack thereof." Bayley all but growled at the dig. "And I know you care deeply for the progress of humanity, as do I, albeit a tad misguided. You’re a highly intelligent man, Doctor, but I'm afraid I don't know about you, personally. I'd like to remedy that."

What could Bayley tell Father about? Why should he? Oh, but he loved to talk about himself... Bayley leaned back in his chair with folded hands in his lap, food left forgotten on his plate. "What is there to say? I'm a man married to his work, who likes breathing fresh air. On the surface."

“What got you into studying radiation?” Bayley noticed Father missed his complaint, or at least was ignoring it. “Surely you didn’t set out from the start on such a dangerous fascination.” Father had a look of curiosity on his face that seemed genuine to Bayley, although he still had suspicions this had ulterior motives.

“It was almost from the beginning actually. As I studied medicine in my youth, traveling along the Wasteland, I have to admit,” Bayley paused to consider his wording. “I had a distinct admiration of the ghoul’s ability to utilize radiation to build themself anew. The destructive power of radiation makes using it dangerous and even deadly, true, but I imagined a world where we could manipulate the human body to replicate how a ghoul’s body uses the gamma particles destructive properties to heal themselves, sans the ghoulification process of course.” Okay, so maybe he planned to be cagey, but Father just had to ask him about the thing he’s devoted his entire life to. Sorry, he’s gonna get excited. “I’d seen first hand ghouls reattach long lost limbs to themselves and remain functional, ferals even being brought back to life by glowing ones’ radiation bursts, and the stories of people growing functional limbs from radiation exposure caught my particular attention at a young age.”

“Fascinating things ghouls are, although their rotten brains and appearance are less than desirable. If anything their longevity is what catches my attention. Living over hundreds of years...” Father drifts off, looking past Bayley. “Imagine what one could achieve with that extra time.”

“Living forever doesn’t matter if you aren’t healthy,” Bayley corrected. “What’s the point of living if you are just suffering every day. I’m focusing myself to helping people in this day and age, instead of chasing functional immortality.”

“Maybe that’s the difference between us,” Father sighs. “Everything I do is for tomorrow, and tomorrow’s tomorrow. Humanity's future lies in our successor’s hands. It’s a shame we cannot directly work with our future generations to combine our knowledge. All we can do is help prepare them for when we are gone.”

“Eventually people in charge need to step down and let the fresh ideas in, otherwise we’ll collectively stagnate. We are stubborn creatures who hate change, snuffing out ideas that contradict our own. If someone like you lived forever, he’d never give up the reins.”

“I suppose you’d do the same,” Father states blandly, eyes half-lidded. “As you said, we are stubborn creatures.”

Bayley sputters, sitting back up in his chair. “No, I am the innovator in this scenario! I’ve been ostracized for my ideas, kicked out and shunned. No one sees my potential to change the world!”

“And in your age, have you begun to prepare an heir to your scientific knowledge, Doctor? Or do you think you can finish this chronicle yourself, with the few years left in your life?”

“I-I have to prove myself first! No one trusts my work because they don’t see the proof -- which I was working on when you so kindly stole me away from my clinic and subjects!” Bayley hissed, gripping the edge of the table.

Unphased, Father folded his hands on the table. “I trust your work, Doctor Bayley. I’ve seen your studies, seen what you can do when you are truly devoted to a cause. This is why I wanted you with us at the Institute. I want you to share your knowledge to us, so that we may pass it to the future with us. Let us help you ensure your legacy. We have the same goals, and we even have similar methods if you can believe it. Imagine what we can do together when we combine our knowledge, for humanity’s sake.”

Bayley raised an eyebrow at that. “Similar goals perhaps, but I wont be a part of the kidnapping and killing of Commonwealth citizens. You Institute folk are outrageously barbaric for all your self-righteousness.”

“We simply know how to weigh the importance of breaking a few eggs for the omelette. You too understand this principle closely, don’t you?”

Bayley grimaced flatly. “You truly know how to charm a man to your side.” This conversation was over if Bayley had anything to say about it, which he did. He gulped from his mug, keeping it up to his mouth as he turned physically away from Father. He’ll finish this and go back to his room. Trapped in the Institute with these madmen, forced to go along with things else suffer the same fate as the hundreds of others taken to the Institute. And Father had the gall to act like they were the same, that Bayley could excuse innocents murdered for “science.” He slammed the mug back onto the table.

“I hope you’ll understand one day soon, Doctor. I really do.” Father sighed, closing his eyes in defeat as Bayley stood up.

“I don’t want to understand,” Bayley said as he stormed past Father back to the concourse.

It was too much to think about, if Bayley was being honest with himself. He grit his teeth climbing the stairs, tense. A scientist descending the stairs stood to the side as Bayley passed, clearly wanting to give the angry man some space and avoid any conflict. Good. If he was to stay here, people should give way for him. Now if only Father was like that. He passed a pair of expressionless generation two synth guards eyeing their laser weapons as he ascended the next flight.

God, he was annoyed. Of course Father had to go ruin another meal together talking nonsense of Bayley hurting others. He tried his best not to hurt his subjects -- everyone was willing and importantly, no one had died under his care! Sick perhaps in the early days... but it wasn’t death! Bayley couldn’t stand the idea his great idea could possibly kill others when it was supposed to be helping them. If he was ever responsible for someone’s death...

Bayley slid open the automatic door to his small, barren room. It was just a simple bed and desk, which was plenty for Bayley, but he wished he had his trinkets and such if he was going to be living here until the day he dies. He collapsed onto the stiff bed, face pressing against the cool pillow. He missed his couch. He missed his clinic. Bayley even considered he missed being annoyed by Jonathan and Jay’s antics. Jay would try his best to cheer him out of this spiraling train of thought, and Jon would know plenty of things to distract him with.

If he was ever responsible for their deaths, Bayley considered he’d quit on the spot. He’d probably become deeply depressed until he really did just curl up and die, however fast it came after. All his life’s work to save humanity, and he’d killed the only people who trusted him most to do so.

But the truly terrible part of him hidden away deep in his heart wondered that if someone was to die as a result of his work, perhaps even if he wasn’t working willingly with the Institute, that he'd simply wouldn’t care.

#doc bayley #father #shaun #silly art tag

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hyper-fixate · 4 years ago

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you wouldn’t believe the dream I just had about you and me

[The other night, during a 3 am feed, I saw a post about soulmate prompts (I found it!) and saw this one (paraphrased):

20. They recognize their soulmate because they’ve heard their laughter in their dreams.

And today, those immortal husbands wouldn’t let me leave it be. Title from Some Nights by Fun.]

updated with AO3 version.

------- Yusuf remembered when his older brother, Hamza, had gotten married to a shy dress maker from the village over. She looked beautiful. She had hand stitched a beautiful pattern across the skirt of her simple tunic, with looping branches and leaves. A tree, the joining of two families to make one. Yusuf had been intrigued by it, choosing to sit by his new sister’s knee and gently traced his fingers along it. Something in the soft blue-green thread intrigued him. He knew he would sketch it in the hearth this evening, as he lay watching the fire dwindle to embers. His mother tried to shoo him away, admonishing him for touching the precious dress with his sticky fingers but Karima gently placed her hand on the nape of his neck and smiled at him beneath her veil.

‘Are you happy to be married to my brother?’ Yusuf asked breathlessly. Only seven, but already his mind was filled with the glory of love. The romance he still saw in his parents eyes as they brushed gentle fingers against each other’s cheeks and arms. He knew his parent’s love story and it warmed him to know that they were blessed with so many long, happy years together. He fell asleep with the same fervent prayer on his lips: let me have a soulmate too.

‘Yes, little brother.’ Karima glanced at Hamza in a way that was so tender and loving, Yusuf blushed as though he had intruded on something intimate. ‘From the moment I heard his laugh, it was as if a great weight was lifted from me.’

‘Then I heard hers, and she snorts. Like a boar.’ Hamza had come over to them, grasping one of Karima’s hands in his and drawing it to his lips. She swatted at him with her free hand, but she did laugh. And it did end in a small snort, a joyous noise that seemed to escape her against her will.

‘How did you know, then,’ Yusuf considered his words carefully, ‘that it was dreams of your soulmate and not a boar?’

That drew a great laugh from Hamza. He laughed with his whole body, throwing his head back and even Karima giggled lightly.

‘Little brother, your mind is a treasure.’ Hamza gently ran his thumb over Karima’s knuckles and they exchanged that look again. ‘I must continue to check on our guests? Do you need anything?’

‘No, our little brother is taking good care of me.’ Karima said and Yusuf felt the tops of his ears heat at the easy nature in which she accepted him. Hamza kissed her hand again and, with a whispered endearment, left them. Karima looked down into Yusuf’s shining eyes.

‘Do you wish to know a secret?’ She looked at him conspiratorially, and he nodded. ‘You must not say anything.’ Yusuf held his finger over his lips, to mime his silence. ‘But a part of me was so glad that my soul was bound to one so handsome and I was instantly ashamed. To be gifted a soulmate so close and so easy to find and to be concerned with his looks?’ She sighed, leaning back into her chair. ‘But what has been the greatest blessing is getting to hear your brother’s laugh at all hours of the day, not just in my dreams.’

She had a hazy smile on her lips, one Yusuf knew well from watching his parents. He had tried to capture that smile in drawings. Tried to imagine it on his own face when he caught his reflection in still water. To imagine the contentment of knowing you had found the other half of your soul, that you were finally on the path you had been destined to tread. He swallowed painfully.

For Yusuf had a secret. A dark, terrible secret, that felt so heavy in his young heart.

Yusuf was not certain he had a soulmate.

He knew how it worked. That when your soulmate laughed, you would hear it that night in your dreams. His father, Ibrahim, had spoken of the joy he had, growing up and hearing his mother’s light laugh every night. How happy he’d been, knowing his future partner was so carefree and easy to laugh. How he’d felt his heart would explode when he’d heard that laugh, outloud, that fateful day in the market. How it had speared him through his heart. And Yusuf had sighed at the romanticism of it.

But Yusuf didn’t hear laughter in his dreams. Not really. Sometimes he thought he heard small huffs, little sighs of sound. But never laughter. Not the type that seemed to ring in his family home at all times of the day. When Ibrahim caught Mariam in his arms and swung her. When Hamza told stories of the men at the docks, trying to haggle for the wares. When Karima brought him sweets from the market.

When Hamza and Karima announced that there would be even more laughter to look forward to, their intertwined hands splayed over her flat stomach.

He was nearly thirteen when Yusuf woke suddenly, spilling the papers he had been sketching on before he’d fallen asleep. He couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he knew what had woken him. A deep noise that sounded warm and joyful, but still so restrained. As he chased the dream, the noise seemed to slip through his memory and he couldn’t hold it. But a small giggle bubbled from his own lips.

It had been a laugh.

He had a soulmate.

A more painful thought occurred to him, then. His soulmate had had so very little opportunity to laugh that it had taken nearly thirteen years to hear it properly. He did not think discovering he had a soulmate would have made his heart heavier. But the ache in his chest when he realised that there was someone out there for him, but that this person did not have the joy Yusuf had? That cut him deeply. He scrambled out of bed and folded his body into the familiar shape of prayer. He swore, as solemnly as he could, to bring such joy to his partner that he would know that dreamy contentment Karima had shared with him all those years ago, on her wedding day. I will hear your laugh at all hours of the day, to make up for years worth of missed dreams.

Yusuf, like any good romantic, was also predisposed to fits of melancholy. He was not sure what he had done to upset Allah. He had had a good childhood, his silent existential crisis about not having a soulmate not withstanding. He had enjoyed his work with his father and brother, travelling by land and sea to trade their goods. Some part of him kept his feet moving. He seemed to know, deep down, that his quiet, solemn soulmate would not be found in the next village over. So he had travelled happily, easily charming those he met with a sharp wit and an easy wink. At every new market, new town, new inn, he wondered if this would be the moment he heard it. Heard the laugh that would begin his life anew.

Then that damned Frankish pope had called his holy war and everything had changed.

There was no laughter anywhere, not anymore. Not when Yusuf’s days were spent trudging through endless sands with this damned man. He’s not sure what made him offer his hand in peace after the last time they woke up. Honestly, it was more fatigue than any sort of mercy. He was covered in sand, his own blood, the Frank’s (Nicolo, his mind unhelpfully supplied) blood. There was bone and gore in his hair, caked under his nails and in his mouth. Surely anything would be better than this. Even walking with his once enemy who was trapped in this living hell with him.

It took many weeks for them to realise they shared a common language. It took them months to accept that whatever curse they both suffered had held and that perhaps, they should stop trying to kill one another and at least be civil.

Nicolo’s Greek was slow and halting, half remembered from when he was a boy and before he had been promised to the church. Yusuf’s years of travelling made languages easier for him and between Greek and exaggerated hand movements, he had begun to pick up bits and pieces of Nicolo’s mother tongue. Nicolo still tripped over Arabic hopelessly, but was a dedicated student. He asked constantly for the names of things and spent hours repeating them to himself, to try and imprint them on his tongue.

Yusuf watched his hopeless companion and decided that perhaps he had not angered Allah that badly. Though their meeting had been so violent, he had seen a kindness under the layers of doctrine and faith, an eagerness to learn and experience this new world. Nicolo was distractedly oiling his long sword whilst clumsily rolling the strange Arabic consonants and vowels around his tongue. He misprounounced every word.

His companion was amusing if nothing else. And a fairly good cook.

And that’s why you don’t tempt fate. Yusuf thought a moment later, as his musings were cut short by the sharp pain in his neck and he barely had time to see Nicolo jump to his feet as his world tilted sideways and went dark.

Yusuf awoke with a violent gasp. He sat up, his hands scrambling to his neck. His fingers found nothing but tacky blood. Nicolo was watching him, his eyes oddly bright in the dying light.

‘What happened?’ Yusuf asked, his voice rasping. He put his hands on his thighs, trying to ground himself. Nicolo moved back slowly, sitting down in front of Yusuf.

‘Bandits.’ Nicolo jutted his chin towards his right. Yusuf saw two bodies laying in pools of dark blood. ‘They shot you with an arrow.’ A small movement out of the corner of his eye drew Yusuf’s gaze back to Nicolo. He was holding an arrow bolt in his hand. ‘You did not wake up.’ Nicolo said, swallowing hard. ‘Not until I pulled out the arrow. I had thought-’ There was a half strangled sound from the Genoan. ‘I was wondering if your stubborn refusal to die was just at my hand.’ Nicolo said it so quietly, Yusuf’s tired brain took a moment to make sense of it.

It was easier to understand Nicolo’s tone in zeneize, his mother tongue. But Yusuf could hear fear in this man’s voice in any language. Anger and fear had been their first shared language, after all. Yusuf tore his eyes from the arrow, the arrow Nicolo had to tear from his neck, and back at his companion and saw the other man’s tunic was covered in blood.

‘Are you well?’ Yusuf reached out, his hand poised in the air between him. Nicolo didn’t move away, but stared at Yusuf’s hand as one would a snake about to strike. ‘Did they hurt you?’ Yusuf tried to make the return of his hand seem casual and not stilted, but the tension still hung in the air.

‘This is mostly yours.’ Nicolo said, waving to his chest. ‘It sprouted out of you like a fountain when I pulled this out.’ He rubbed a hand across his cheek, smearing more blood. He grimaced when his hands came away tacky. ‘How bad is it?’

‘For you? It’s an improvement.’ Yusuf said in perfect zeneize and in such a deadpan manner that it startled a laugh out of his companion.

Yusuf froze.

For a full moment, he wondered distantly if his heart had actually stopped and he was in the liminal space between their deaths and their gasping rebirth.

Nicolo laughed. Nicolo laughed.

And Yusuf knew that laugh.

He moved almost as a blur, reaching for Nicolo before the other man could react. Yusuf’s hands caught Nicolo’s face and the force of his movement knocked the paler man back, wedged uncomfortably, half on his knees and half on his pack. Nicolo squawked indignantly, trying to move away, his hands searching for a weapon on instinct. But it was too far away and the manner in which Yusuf had pinned him made it impossible to lever himself off his feet. Yusuf shushed him, softly, gently. Trying to convey that he meant no harm as one hand slid Nicolo’s hair away from his face and Yusuf searched those damned beautiful eyes for something.

‘What are you doing?’ Nicolo, extremely confused and uncomfortable, stumbled out in slightly mispronounced Arabic, following it with a small huff at the manic look on Yusuf’s face. And it speared Yusuf right through the heart.

He knew that sound too. And his heart flew and broke and started thumping in his chest as if it wished to escape his flesh. Something had to escape, so Yusuf threw his head back and laughed. Nicolo went still under him, his eyes blown wide.

‘Mio Dio.’ Nicolo gasped under him and Yusuf couldn’t help himself.

He laughed again.

(Prologue, of sorts)

‘And I kept my promise, I have tried every day to make him laugh. If only I’d known as a boy, so unsure of my dreams, how those small noises of joy would make my heart soar. How drawing a full bodied laugh from this quiet, thoughtful priest would make my blood boil in a very different way then when we met-’ Joe says

‘Yes, yes. We get it. You’re still disgustingly sweet.’ Andy sits down, her hands curled around a vodka bottle and offers it to Nile. Nile shakes her head. Andy takes a swig straight from the top.

‘Wait, so you didn’t laugh around each other for months?’ Nile looks slightly dazed.

Nicky shrugs. ‘We were too busy trying to kill each other.’

Joe laughs.

Nicolo’s point of view here.

#Joe x nicky #the old guard #immortal husbands #kaysanova #yusuf al-kaysani #nicolo di genova #soulmate au #fanfic #I just can't stop thinking of all of joe's great big laughs and nicky's little small ones #I may have also changed the word fringe to hair #10 years in the uk and I still couldn't do it #but bangs just sounds silly #beans writes fanfic

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skylarmoon71 · 4 years ago

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Eobard Thawne x Reader (Flash)- Chapter 10(B)

The day was just about to end, and as much as you wanted to avoid it, you had a lot to talk about with Eobard. You finally picked yourself up off the ground from the basement. It was a challenge just to get up the stairs.

You were a bit scared to confront Eobard, or look. Just being in the same space now had you anxious, just not for the reasons as when you first landed it this messed up reality. As you got to the living room you could see him. You approached slowly, when he saw you his gaze lifted.

"Earlier, you told me not to worry. That it happened before. Not just that but you felt the bullet. How?"

Eobard was leaning against the wall, and your statement made him straighten. "I believe in some weird way we're connected in this time. And as for the unexplained healing, your body did the same thing. I've never seen anything like it. I've been manipulating time for as long as I could breathe, but what you did, it's like you have control of it. Yet you seem to insist you're human. No human can do the things I've seen you done."

"It just seems so impossible. I'm not some celestial being. So how is this happening?"

"What exactly happened in the future. You were chasing me, you've said as much. But something else happened. "

The future.

You gave him a quick glance, looking back at your feet.

"I was hunting you, and I finally made progress. Everyone thought you were dead, but I knew better. When I found you, there was something in the warehouse. You were building some type of machine. I was convinced I'd die there, so I tried to destroy whatever you were building. I think it worked too, the machine exploded, but the blast hit me and you. After that all I could remember was waking up in the past, in STAR Labs. "

Eobard took a seat on the opposite side of the table, going over all you'd said.

"Is it possible that your machine was some kind of time vault to get back to the past."

"It is possible." He still had a very serious look on his face.

"If what you've said is true, you must have entered at the same time the particle accelerator exploded."

You still didn't really get what he was trying to say.

"So I'm a meta?"

He shook his head. "Not exactly. If you recall, the particle accelerator is what gave Barry his powers. It's connected to the speed force. At that very moment you came from the past. The creation of the flash, and a traveler from the future. Two time anomalies occurring at the same time. No wonder your body keeps healing itself."

"So you know what's going on!"

"Not the slightest clue." You just gave him a blank stare.

"Thawne."

It was a warning call, and he just wore that stupidly superior smile of his.

"What I'm saying is, I believe the reason behind your newfound abilities is because you were caught between two extraordinary events in time. Time has no idea what to do with you. So you're stuck between two rifts. The past and the future. "

"Are you saying I'm immortal?"

"Who knows. I'd avoid getting any more life threatening injuries. We're not sure what'll happen the next time. You may heal, or you may just explode. "

"Explode!!"

"It's a theory."

How could he say stuff so casually. The bastard, he was probably having fun watching you squirm.

"Well just remember if anything happens to me you'll be stuck here." You had a little leverage.

"I guess that just means I'll have to make sure nothing else happens to you. " You really didn't expect him to say that. You thought he'd make another wisecrack.

"Eobard, why do you hate the flash."

It came out of nowhere, but if you were going to try and stop hating the guy, you figured the least he could do was tell you why. He looked more guarded now. He leaned back in his chair, or for a second you could see the hate flash in his eyes. But was it really hate or was it...betrayal.

"It's not important." He said tightly. Being around him for so long gave you a better idea of some of his expressions. Right now you could tell he was going to run. Before he could move, you grabbed his hand from across the table. He froze at the contact. When you looked at him this time, it was with sympathy.

"I know exactly why I hate you Eobard, you tore my family apart. I've wanted nothing more than to deliver that same pain that I lived through everyday. Now as it stands, I'm your only ticket out of here, and I've decided that if we're going to get out of this, we need to stop hating each and start trusting. No one else in this time knows, or even understands what's going on. We only have each other. You owe me Eobard. Tell me. Why do you hate Barry?"

With your hand over his, he physically couldn't get away. His body relaxed slightly, and he leaned back closer to you, placing his elbows on the table. "He was my idol, my dream was to be just like him. I made some mistakes, but he should have tried harder. He betrayed me. He turned me into this. I never chose to be a monster, I only became what everyone else saw. "

The spite in his voice, it was familiar. You heard it before.

"Do you want to be a monster?"

He gave you an incredulous look. "Of course not! Are you mocking me!" you could feel him start to vibrate against your hold and you stood, rounding the table. You pulled him out of the chair, and into a hug. All at once, you could feel his body start to return to normal. His arms were stiff. He must have been completely confused.

"I'm tired, Eobard. Of everything. I don't want to be angry anymore. I just want to live. What's happened already, I'll let it go. My father...my family, I'll give it all up. I'm willing to forgive you for everything, but only if you agree to do the same. I'll even get you back to your time. I-I'll find a way I don't know how but I'll do whatever you want!" you stood there, pouring your heart out to him. "I don't want to feel like this ever again. ''

When you pulled back, the look you gave almost brought him to his knees. Somehow, looking at you so helpless, he knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness. He didn't deserve anything. Reaching up, you carefully took the glasses off his face, placing it on the table behind you.

"Why are you doing this.." It was the first thing he said since you started your little rant.

"Because, my dad always said that monsters aren't born, they're created. I'm sorry Eobard. I played a big part in making you a monster. If you can forgive me, then maybe I'll finally be able to find some peace. I want to move on."

He could have laughed. You were asking him for forgiveness.

"I wish I could believe you, but words are nothing more than that. Words. I've used them more than enough to know. People say what they want to get what they need. " you chuckled under your breath. Perceptive as ever.

"I guess you're right." You could see the way he was now leering at you.

"So what is that you want (Y/N)?"

You took one deep breath before speaking. You weren’t sure what you were about to say for a second, maybe tell him that you could be friends. But the moment you looked at him, your eyes lingered on his lips, and you felt as though your body was moving on it’s own.

"I guess....this."

Standing on your toes, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. Eobard's body all but shut down.

"Is she really.." There was no doubt about it, you, you were kissing him. He would have slapped himself if he could get his body to move.

The entire time your lips were connected, he didn't move, and when you pulled back, you just watched him.

Waiting for something, anything. Even a vibrating hand to the chest right now would have been better than his complete silence.

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harritudur · 4 years ago

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I HAD A FLASHBACK OF SOMETHING THAT NEVER EXISTED

4167 words + mature + no beta, we die like men!

*what if* before confronting Adam after having read the last pages of Claudia’s notebook, Noah decides to go further in the future? maybe in 2032 -i don't know why or how tho, but i completely take responsibility for this plot hole lol- and he meets with Elli (22) and a younger-himself (29) which are in a relationship since four years?

ao3 link: archiveofourown.org/works/26290792

—

2032, post-apocalypse world

—

A déjà-vu.

Elisabeth had been ten the first time she had met him under an heavy rain. Now, it was like if the ghost had decided to reappear in front of her again. And by his demeanor, it wouldn't be surprising if this Noah was a walking corpse.

Because he was not her Noah. This one, dressed like a priest, was older, years of experience on his face, and looked incommensurable exhausted, like if he had seen and done more than anyone. But his eyes- his eyes were the same eyes Elisabeth had seen a few minutes ago when leaving their cabin to check the traps. Blue. Icy. But gentle and kind when looking at her.

And she understood. He travelled from the future. Or the past.

Elisabeth.

She could read her name on his lips but not the expression on his face. Maybe she was a ghost for him as well?

Elisabeth.

He repeated the name again and walked forward, stretching forth a trembling hand. The next few seconds passed in a blur, just like the many questions going through Elisabeth's head, and the more he was getting closer, the more her heart broke. Something terrible happened, and she was frightened, not sure of wanting to know the reasons of his watery eyes, of her absence by his side, of the trembling lips when he stood finally a few inches from her. She didn't step back. How could she, when Noah -no matter his age, his world, his motivation- looked so desperate.

Very slowly, Elisabeth brought a hand to rest on his cheek and he leaned into it, craving her touch. He shut his eyes and she pulled him in close, putting his forehead against hers.

—

Her Noah was in their cabin made of bits and pieces, getting the fire going again when she entered, and he instantly stood up, a fire-iron in hands when he saw a shadow following her.

He froze, his eyes widening almost comically.

Him.

The apparition sent the younger man back into the past, in Erna’s tavern, more than 10 years from now (or a century, depending of the point of view). A curious feeling started to build in the pit of his stomach.

The two men observed one another, pondering the next move.

I know our social skills are a bit rusty, but this is N-O-T how we welcome a guest, Eisabeth signed to her Noah before moving to stand by his side. She linked her fingers with his and looked at the other man with genuine kindness. You can stay here. After all, it is technically your place as well.

The older Noah nodded once, his lips curling up only the slightest bit.

Still, his younger self observed him without a reaction -for such a long time Elisabeth thought he was never going to reply, or worse, was going to chase the ‘intruder’ out. Green eyes set upon him with disapproval, he gave up.

“Of course,” the words sounded fake. "Make yourself at home.”

—

The three of them sat by the wood-burner, drinking bad homemade alcohol. Elisabeth and Noah shared a chair built out of an old mattress, while the older Noah sat on a stool, his eyes traveling between the cup in his hands, the fire, and the couple.

After a few questions that their guest eluded with talent, silence reigned. Outside was the dull sound of the rain, clashing against the roof of corrugated iron, and, when the noise ceased, the two Noahs looked up at the ceiling in perfect sync. Elisabeth smiled at herself at the sight.

A sudden shiver of cold ran through her back and both men’s attention instantly focused on her. The younger one pulled her against him, one arm tightening around her shoulder to warm away the cold as their sides aligned. Elisabeth looked up at him with affection, took another sip of liquor and then turned to face the other one.

Not very tasty but it helps to keep you warm. On the other hand, I have nothing to compare it to, she signed to their guest, and her smile slightly dimmed down. But... I guess you already know that.

The older man nodded, his eyes softening.

“Yes,” his voice and hands answered, “I know that.”

Elisabeth grinned and drank once more, leaning back into her lover's hold.

We met before. I mean..., she meant that rainy day in the forest. Why the priest outfit?

Again, the slightest curl appeared on his lips at Elisabeth’s inquisitiveness.

It helps to earn the trust of people, he justified easily, a certain distance in his explanation. Most people claim they don’t believe in God, but they do show respect to a man of God. Paradox.

Then, his right hand moved up to his roman collar and his fingers started to remove the constraint. The white band gone, he undid the first button of his shirt and drank again, his eyes on Elisabeth over the rim of his can.

She hold the gaze -this familiar and comforting icy blue gaze- and tilted her head.

A heavy silence fell upon them. There would be no more answers from him.

—

Anyone would be jealous -or at least defensive- over the way their guest looked at Elisabeth. But here the thing: this other man and him were one.

Noah observed how his older-self couldn't avert his eyes from her, like a drowning man looking at dry land. With an abyssal desire, starved of touch, and undying love. He recalled a few moments of jealousy, the resentment he had felt years ago -when Elisabeth and Jonas had shared a loud laugh over a 21th century detail Noah couldn't grasp ; or when Jonas had offered her a hand after a little slip in the mud, when he was the one supposed to take care of her ; or when she had confessed that she'd had a boyfriend before him... The corruption of jealousy was known. And, despite the evident thirst in this older man (this older him), he notably felt not a fragment of it. On the contrary.

A part of him took pride in this idea -the idea that after decades, Elisabeth was still his compass.

The soft frame pressed against his side elbowed him, and Elidabeth's eyes flicked down on her empty mettalic glass to ask for more. Noah grabbed the jar on the ground, already light, and refilled their three cups.

—

After two hours around the fireplace drinking their awful booze, the already non-existent conversation was dying, as well as their senses. Elisabeth was still comfortably settled against her Noah, and he was running his fingers through her hair, out of habit.

They didn't mind their special guest at all, who remained silent and kept observing the couple, nostalgia and yearning on his features. Eventually, he put down his glass and focused on the twenty-two years old woman. She felt his stare on her (as she always did) and turns her eyes to meet his.

Can I kiss you? he signed.

During a fraction of second, she almost glimpsed the hesitant boy she had kissed for the first time five years ago, and a soft laugh escaped her lips. Her head was light with liquor and, after a last gulp that emptied her cup, Elisabeth cocked her head to look up at her lover with a silent question. Of course she could do many things without his approval -going hunting alone at night, disappearing during hours to scavenge in risky places, walking under the rain without a hood despite his many looks of disapproval. But, here and now, there was a kiss at stake.

You know it's not cheating if it's you, Elisabeth signed with a smirk, her ears red.

Both men looked at each other over her blond's head, and there was a silent conversation, a mutual understanding. Unfailing care in the eyes of the younger man, hopeless need in the eyes of the older one. Love in both.

Young Noah nodded at the request.

In one slow movement, Elisabeth left her Noah's warmth and straightened up to shift closer of his older version. There was flush on his cheeks and a veil before his dark eyes, partly due to the alcohol. His gaze lingered for long seconds on her chapped lips, giving Elisabeth chance to back off, and he delighted on the fact that she didn't do it. He leant in slowly, pressed his lips to hers, and it was like breathing fresh air again after years under water.

To Elisabeth' surprise, the kiss tasted the same as it always did: a mix of smoky aftertaste of alcohol and dried meat, with sweat and the peculiar manly musk he always carried. She closed her eyes and couldn't tell the difference.

It was Noah.

The kiss gradually heated up as lips, teeth and tongues got involved, and he laced one of his hands into unwhashed blonde hair and wrapped the other around her neck. She followed suit without hesitation.

In peripheral, between sips of bad liquor, the younger man observed them, fascinated and terrified by the sight. Fascinated, because he was able to witness Elisabeth's reactions in their entirety without being part of the performance, to see how her body molded perfectly against his despite it being a different version.

And terrified, because the desesperation in the kisses of his older self translated need and pain and absence and desire. When was the last time he saw his Elisabeth? What changed him? What changed me? The same unanswered questions he had asked himself before his first time travel.

Elisabeth softly moaned between kisses, and the younger man recognized the familiar sound, the familiar call. She wanted more.

—

From his chair by the fireplace, the older Noah tried to avert his eyes but they never left them.

The young couple stumbled on their makeshift mattress, Elisabeth's back pushed into the cushion by the weight of her lover's body on top of her. Tee-shirts and pants were still on, hands disappearing underneath as fingers found their way to warm skin.

This night had always remained a dissonance in Noah's memory, convinced of it non-existence -like a fairytale, or a dream, or the result of too much alcohol combined with exhaustation and hormones. His consciousness had locked the memory of it inside a chest at the back of his mind to preserve his sanity.

But now, every detail of the coming hours sprang into abrupt definition.

Elisabeth wrapped her legs around her Noah's waist as he trailed feather-light kisses up her neck and jaw and, she must have sensed his older version looking at them (at her). Her eyes found his.

Without a second thought, she reached her hand out to invite him to join them (join her).

Above the young woman, Noah glanced over his shoulder. Once more, the same mutual understanding bonded the two men, a mutual need of her that none of them could or wanted to resist. A prudent nod, and the younger man pressed back his tongue on Elisabeth's neck. The older one stood up from his spot by the fire and took the hand offered to him.

—

Being the center of every attention, Elisabeth was the first one fully naked. Her Noah pressed his chest behind her, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, and she felt him murmuring something against the nape of her neck, before dropping a wet kiss.

Thery were both facing the older version of him, the three of them on their knees on the mattress.

He was Noah. A different one, an older one. But still, it was him. The hunger in his eyes as they raked all over her naked form, the lips slightly parted, the rise and fall of his chest... same reactions than the boy she loved. It was him.

The two men exchanged a glance which she didn't grasp every implication, and the older one moved closer to kiss her. She greeted him in full. From behind, the younger Noah’s hands clenched around her, his still covered hips grinding against hers, pressing with sensuality while his tongue drew intricate figures on her shoulder.

Elisabeth shut her eyes at the sensation, and gasped. Two pairs of hands on her, two pairs of lips, the roughness of their calloused fingers against her skin, their good-natured greediness, but the same man –it all left her breathless.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and she bit her bottom lip in bliss.

—

Elisabeth was leaning back on her Noah, sat, her back against his sweaty chest for support, while the older version of him had his head between her legs.

A steady stream of undefined sounds was escaping her throat at every move of his tongue, only ceasing when the younger man took her lips above her shoulder, swallowing her moans, as his hands went up to cup her breast, their peaks hard under his thumbs.

At the needy (and enthralling) noise Elisabeth made, Noah decided to focus on his older-self's work, to observe his ministrations in awe and interest –awe, for the effects it clearly had on Elisabeth's body, and interest for later uses: his tongue was running along her most secretive place, lapping like a thirsty cat, and swirling around that little electric bundle of nerves the young man had already became familiar with.

In three years of intimate relationship, Noah had never done such thing to her -or even never heard about this. Was it a 21st century thing? How was it named? Whatever it was, he decided he would have to do it from now, because Elisabeth was panting, sharp, hard little breaths against his neck that went straight to his cock.

And when his older-self pushed two fingers inside of her, her head rolled back on his younger-self shoulder, limbs trembling.

—

It was just a dance for two this time -at the beginning.

Elisabeth took her time in riding her Noah, face damp and flushed. Her movements were wide, sweeping, and her hands balled into his shoulders for support as she hovered over him, a cascade of blonde hair isolating them from the rest of the world. They stuttered. He thrusted up, made her groan, and eased her downwards. Mouthes inches apart, the young man tried to kiss her but she decided to deprive him of it.

With a devilish smile, Elisabeth leaned back, bracing her hands on his knees, and rolled her hips. An amazon riding a submissive stalion. Eyes shut, she took stock of her pleasure when his large hands gripped her waist tight, possessively, hungrily, his hips snapping up to meet each shift of hers.

But other hands joined those already holding her.

No. No other hands. The same hands. And the same adoration when they touched her.

The amazon opened her eyes, glancing over her sweaty shoulder, to meet familiar icy ones.

“You're so beautiful,” her older lover murmured without sigining against her shoulder blade. One of his hands resting on her low back to guide her back-and-forth movements, the other one slid down her stomach, towards the area between her legs. His thumb brushed against her sensitive nub and Elisabeth gasped for air.

“So beautiful...” the younger man echoed in the face of such sight, as his lenght slipped easily into her. He needed her more. Closer. He sat up and thrusts deep to drag out another moan. Their foreheads pressed together and both their bodies rocked in perfect harmony, wrapped around each other like vines. Her tongue plunged into his mouth for a deep kiss.

Elisabeth's right hand curled into his dirty blonde hair, while her left one searched behind for the other man. A hot breath caressed the back of her neck and she was now trapped between them, enveloped only by Noah's warmth, Noah’s skin, Noah’s fervor... Suffocating exquisitely, Elisabeth broke the kiss to pant, as each of her two lovers lavished attention on a side of her neck.

Moans filled the small cabin.

—

The feel and scent of them -of him- overwhelmed her every sense.

The older Noah was on top of her, his hands framing her face like she was a treasure he had lost and only just found again. Each of his thrusts were slow, deliberate languid circles, his lenght within the heat of Elisabeth’s body. And as the pressure mounted, her legs lifted to clamp safely around him.

It was sweet, gentle, less passionate than with his younger self. The reason being this time, her Noah, was not part of the picture. On his own initiative, he stepped back.

Not out of pure altruism -he was doing it for himself after all. The young man had caught his older-self’s reactions when Elisabeth had come the two previous times. Eyes fixated on her. Dark pupils blown wide. Breathing deep and steady through his nose. Hard. The gnawing need to connect with her skin, to bury himself deep into her, to feel her constricting around him... The young man had lived with such hunger enough to recognize it on his own face.

But he perceived something else, more disconcerting and alarming. A void. A culpability. An agony Elisabeth was the only one able to appease (or able to cause).

So the young man withdrew to let the old one find peace in her arms for an instant, and sat on the mattress, his hand sometimes passing on Elisabeth’ sweaty forehead or temples to push back her sticking hair.

Her eyes were shut, and Elisabeth savoured the familiar safety and tenderness of the body above her. The pleasure growing inside of her started to burn and a litany of moans fell from her lips, until salty dampness run on them.

She opened her eyes to look up.

The older Noah was crying. Noah was crying.

Without a second thought, Elisabeth softly grabbed the man’s face, bringing her lips to the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, and kissed his tears away. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathed her in, and his desperate embrace around her body became stronger -as well as each of his thrusts.

“Elisabeth...” his voice breathed, something deep-down and dried-blood dark in it, something that sticked and caught.

Then, a split second of weakness.

"I miss you...” he muttered against her skin, his words unheard by the reason of their formulation. “You have no idea how much I miss you."

This brief moment of weakness suspended time, words floating in the cabin despite their weight. They eventually sank into young Noah, feeding a dormant fear he had imagined gone, and his face twisted in pure bewilderment -and despair.

He missed her.

No.

Air struggled to leave his lungs, and he could feel his brain short-circuited at the implications. Where is she? What happened? Did she leave him? Did he leave her? No! I could never- This prospect had crossed his mind before, particularly when recalling his first confrontation with his older-self. The prospect that, maybe one day, Elisabeth would get tired of him, would reject him, to run free like the wild fox she was.

And yet, it wouldn’t change a thing -he would still look after her, even from afar -he would still be with her, even in darkness and solitude. Elisabeth remained his compass and nothing on earth could pull them apart.

So, if he missed her, if he was no more with her...

No!

By the time he’d regained the ability to use his senses, Elisabeth was reaching a hand out to him, so he could touch her -so he could anchor himself to her.

He bent and brought her hand to his lips, kissing the inside of her wrist, feeling the quick pulse under his mouth.

She watched her Noah through foggy eyes with a gentle smile, before closing them firmly, another wave of pleasure about to hit. Her nails digged into tattooed flesh.

—

The air in the small cabin carried the perfume of badly distilled alcohol and sex, the cold outside forgotten within these four walls.

Their naked bodies were crushed, satisfied, trying to find back their normal state, and Elisabeth’s one had been the first to give up. She quickly fell asleep between the two men. Her head rested on her Noah’s chest, ear pressed right over his heart, one of her arms wrapped around his waist... her subconscious clearly stating its preference.

On the other part of the bed, the older Noah laid on his side, tucking an arm under his head to observe them -her -him -himself -and it was evident. Evident that the scene in front of him was the only right thing. No matter the twisted consequences, timelines or connections, Elisabeth was the only right and good thing that ever happened to him.

His gaze left the soft curves of her bare hips, and shifted to met the one of his other-self, vehemently staring at him.

“You don't want to know,” he answered before the question.

"What happened?" the younger man asked anyway, the inquiry heavy for its unspoken extensions -to the plan? -to you?, and above all -to her?

The more experienced man rolled on his back. No answer could be given, both versions of him aware of the rules, so he shut his eyes, silence all around, until the white noise of rain pounded again against the roof.

"I failed her." The words came out reluctantly in a breath, like a sin confessed to be expiated. "I failed both of them."

Them?

The plural forced the younger Noah to make his own deduction: "Elisabeth and Adam?"

A glimmer of loathing passed the face of the ‘guest’, jaw clenched, eyes wide open on the ceiling like if it held all the secrets of the universe. Such reaction only increased the doubt in his younger version, and his grip froze firmer around Elisabeth’s middle.

A content sigh escaped her and the sound drew the other man's attention. Elbows sinking into the fatigued mattress, he leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, lips lighter than the flap of butterfly's wings. His mouth ghosted over the smooth expanse of her skin to inhale the scent of her. One last time.

In a catlike movement, he sat on the edge of the bed and swung his legs off. He walked around the small place, picked up his pants and slid them back on -then his black shirt -his suspenders -his jacket -in less than 30 seconds he was all dressed and ready to go.

Heading to the door, he ran his fingers through his hair to put it in some semblance of order, and now at the doorstep, his icy blue eyes passed through the cabin until they fell on the couple. On Elisabeth. She had her back to him, golden strands rolling and flowing all down it as she slept on her Noah’s chest.

The younger man didn’t avert his gaze from their ‘guest’, like a hawk ready to swoop down on its prey if necessary -of course he had noticed the gun hidden in the inside pocket of his jacket. His older-self was on mission, but there was something else behind the weary eyes. Something he had already seen once.

“You’ve lost faith,” he breathed cautiously.

A wall crumbled inside the older man at these words -famliar and loathed words, remnants of that day still clunged to his mind like tendrils. There was no attempt to negate the accusation. Not a word. Not a move. Only his fingers’ grip at the door handle tightening. He blinked a few times and looked over to where his heart rested.

"Take care of her."

And the man disappeared like he'd never been there at all, shutting the door behind him. Maybe he hadn't.

Take care of her.

The young man’s mind was racing; trying to come up with different ways to avoid that presage, to avoid what he would become -even if he didn’t know the how or the when. Noah’s thoughts started to get more incoherent, and they took him into a well-known maze of guilt, bloody schemes and dark secrets. But with a promised bright future at its end -for Elisabeth, for him, for his family... There couldn’t be another way.

He clung to this hope for his own sanity, and his psyche decided to bury the vision of an older self that contradicted all the beliefs that had built him.

Without even thinking, Noah’s arms encircled Elisabeth’s waist, and he drew her closer. Heat seemed to radiate from the points where their bodies touched, and he leaned into it, burying his face in her hair. He carefully arranged the sheets around them so they'd cover their still sweaty bodies.

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

And in the morning, the last hours would be just a fairytale, or a dream, or the result of too much alcohol combined with exhaustation and hormones, both convinced of their non-existence.

Because it had to.

—

ao3 link: archiveofourown.org/works/26290792

—

#noah x elisabeth #elisabeth doppler #hanno tauber #noah dark #noabeth #noahbeth #I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT omg #dark netflix

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queenangst · 4 years ago

Text

A Collection of Fic Prompts

These are all genfic/non-romantic fic ideas that I (and some of my friends) came up with in a game where I write a summary for a fake fic title. Some titles have multiple summaries. You can view my tag ‘fake fic asks’ to view the original asks.

My blanket permissions for prompts apply: Please credit and link me on Tumblr (@queenangst)/on AO3 (achievingelysium). If possible, link to this post/original post. Feel free to use these as prompts or inspiration for any creative work such as fic or art, and feel free to adjust or adapt them to your liking. I’d love to see them!

Please reblog if you like these!

I may end up using some of these in the future (marked with * if you’re interested), but all of the prompts are free for you to use if you’re interested.

Below the cut is a categorized list of the summaries, by characters/themes, including:

All Might, Izuku, OFA, and AFO

Midoriya Hisashi/Dad for One

Shimura Nana

Quirklessness

Aizawa, Present Mic, and Shirakumo

Teachers

Dekusquad

Izuku & Bakugou

Izuku

Bakugou

Todoroki Family/Dabi

Eri

Class 1-A

Misc.

All Might, Izuku, OFA, and AFO

Once Upon a Time

Quirk reversal canon rewrite AU. All Might is a hero with a mysterious Quirk: one that can take and give away Quirks at will. With this Quirk and multiple Quirks given willingly, All Might defeats villains easily. When he meets the strong-willed Midoriya Izuku, he offers Izuku a Quirk and a chance to be a hero.

One for All has been searching for a successor—and his brother’s Quirk, All for One—and finds one in the volatile Shimura Tenko, now Shigaraki. Combined with the power of Decay, Shigaraki’s new Quirk can level mountains and destroy cities.

Izuku has always wanted to be a hero. With a new Quirk and a new enemy, he can be.

Shatter the Sun

All Might walks into a fight he doesn’t expect to come back from. Fueled by rage and grief, he ignores every warning Nighteye has given him and takes down the villain who killed his predecessor… All for One.

All Might limps out of a fight he hadn’t expected to come back from. He defeated his enemy, but it comes with a cost.

And then he wakes up again on the same day, All for One still waiting for him. Each time All Might defeats him. Each time the day restarts. Again and again. All Might had been prepared to fight All for One for the rest of his life, but this is something entirely different.

i’ve been found (but i’m still lost in the morning)

When Toshinori passes on the torch to his successor, he only wishes Nana were there to see it. When Izuku begins dreaming of the past wielders, he begins to feel the weight of the legacy he carries on.

All for One may be gone, but in the wake of his defeat, both Izuku and Toshinori struggle to find their place in heroism and at home.

Cross the Delta

All Might takes Izuku on a road trip in America, and their relationship deepens from mentor and student to father and son.

if only you'd listened

When Izuku complains of headaches and strange dreams, Toshinori doesn’t think much of it beyond offering what comfort he can and painkillers. After all, it’s exam season, and his students are stressed; the common room is loaded with energy drinks and textbooks alike. Izuku also confides he thinks there’s something wrong with his Quirk, but having unlocked two more, Toshinori is under the belief Izuku is simply adjusting.

Then Izuku starts sleepwalking, sometimes with One for All. And there’s the time he almost doesn’t wake up at all, and when he finally wakes up he doesn’t seem like he has control of himself.

Because the closer Izuku has been getting to One for All, a connection has been forming with its other half—with Toshinori’s greatest enemy, All for One.

kiss your fist and touch the sky

After his retirement, All Might is no longer the hero he used to be. But Class 1-A still seems to think so, and quietly All Might begins to learn how to save people in smaller ways.

lead me down the styx

OFA!AU. When Nana dies, a piece of her remains within One for All—just as the other holders have before her. Every time a holder comes close to death, they see their predecessors.

All Might sees his mentor again in dreams a few times, but he thinks they’re just that: dreams. The first time Izuku sees the ghosts of One for All, he’s just nearly broken himself beyond repair. The next time is when he takes a hit meant for someone else. After the next Izuku realizes there’s a pattern, that the ghosts he sees out of the corner of his eye are real and getting stronger, and there’s something they want to tell him.

I Have No Plans to Die Today

Alternating POV. Half is All Might desperately trying to hold on to the remains of OFA as he fights AFO because after all these years he finally has things to live for again. Half is Bakugou trying to escape his captors, not knowing if anyone’s going to rescue him, equally desperate to fulfill his dream of becoming a Hero (from @happi-tree).

Your Heart In Your Hands

In a world where every year on the day you first meet you see a vision of you and your soulmate’s future together, Izuku and All Might meet under a bridge—and Izuku begins to see a future where he can be a hero.

Bonus notes from my tags: #pl bkdk soulmates bk was scared of the future #tho the future vision is limited i think so bkdk doesnt see anything after ua until after dk meets am #bc that future wasnt quite set in stone

The Aftermath

All Might wakes up in a hospital alone. He has lost his stomach, though perhaps more painfully, his most trusted advisor and sidekick. He has nothing, and no one. And his time with One for All dwindles.

But he keeps going—and meets one Midoriya Izuku.

A story told backwards in six parts, from loving Izuku to meeting him to those lonely years before.

Once Upon a Time

Fantasy AU. The Tale of Two Brothers is known throughout the kingdom, a myth passed down through the generations to explain why Magicks exist. No one expects the story itself to be true, least of all a young Magickless boy on the run from his tormentors. But now? Well, now, Midoriya Izuku knows differently (from @happi-tree).

Midoriya Hisashi/Dad for One

But That Was So Long Ago*

Time can’t erase an absence, a person who was never there. Ten years after Midoriya Hisashi goes overseas for business, he re-enters Izuku’s life—not just as a father, but as a vigilante, chasing a lead for a villain with connections to the League. Working with Hellhound, who can manipulate fire and smoke, Izuku begins to notice his new ally’s strange similarities to the father he’s constantly arguing with at home.

You know what family means to me, Hisashi? Resentment

Midoriya Hisashi drags his son Izuku on a short surprise trip to America, where Izuku is separated from his friends as Hisashi teaches him about his business. Izuku is left miserable and angry about the life Hisashi is trying to force him into. What’s meant to be family bonding and their already fragile relationship quickly falls apart, and all Izuku wants is to go home.

Eternal Slumber

In his second year, Izuku and All for One begin to share dreams. Izuku’s afraid All for One is both the person he thought and not, and they seem to share more similarities than Izuku expected.

A Dad For One fic.

In the Flesh*

Right after Izuku enters U.A., Midoriya Hisashi abruptly returns from business overseas, taking an interest in his son’s new Quirk and committing himself to his family again after years apart. Izuku feels uncomfortable with the stranger he calls “Dad,” but stays quiet seeing how happy his mom is when he’s home.

Yet as the school year progresses, Hisashi’s story seems to have different holes. Research into his dad’s business leaves Izuku with dead, outdated links; any questions Izuku asks about work go unanswered; and still Hisashi presses Izuku about his Quirk, driving a wedge between them.

Hisashi’s Quirk is fire breathing—but Izuku accidentally discovers he has a levitation Quirk, too, and more after that. A breakthrough in research connects Hisashi to the address of an old, run-down bar. And a story Izuku’s mentor All Might tells him, of a villain who can take other people’s Quirks, leads Izuku home again, to one Midoriya Hisashi.

Shimura Nana

Oddity Amidst Time

Shigaraki travels back in time and meets his grandmother, Shimura Nana.

Remembrance

Nana’s legacy is a line of death that becomes before her and goes on after her. But what if things were different?

When Nana fights All for One, she wins. Still, the danger of All for One’s lasting influence remains, so Nana makes the decision to leave her son alone as she continues to fight villains and train Toshinori into the Symbol of Peace he wants to be.

Kotaro is the only regret Nana’s ever had. She spends her days wondering what might have been until she meets two siblings who share her smile—and her last name.

if i die young

At the end of his life, Gran Torino gets a chance to travel back in time to when Nana still lived, and the two of them have a conversation about life and loss.

Quirklessness

Out of the Fire

Izuku reflects on how many micro aggressions he dealt with as a quirkless person that evaporated with OFA (from @wildinkling).

You get used to things, even if sometimes you shouldn't

All Might has carried One for All for a lifetime, and he’s nearly forgotten what it was like to be Quirkless, much less understanding how different Quirklessness is treated in society today. After Izuku confides about what his childhood was like and now navigating life after being a pro hero, All Might begins to spend more time looking for ways to help Quirkless youth feel less alone, fighting a villain of a different kind.

Do Not Go Gentle*

When pro hero—and Eri’s big brother—Deku saves her and sustains life-threatening injuries, Eri does the only thing she can think of. In desperation, she pushes her power and rewinds him, leaving Deku not only young but Quirkless again.

For Years I Have

Midoriya Inko, and coming to terms with a not-Quirkless son, her love and fears for him, and the mistakes she’s made.

Battles are First Lost in the Mind

At fourteen, Midoriya Izuku gives up on his dream of being a hero. He puts away his notebooks and resigns himself to a quiet, Quirkless life.

Four years later and as a new graduate from U.A., Kacchan swallows his pride, apologizes, and asks Izuku for help taking down the villain Shigaraki, hoping Izuku’s analytical skills can turn the tide.

Izuku isn’t sure, but in the end agrees; and four years after giving up he’s presented with his dreams in reach and an entire former class telling him he can be a hero.

changing the subject again and bite your tongue (until it bleeds)*

Midoriya Izuku never talks about being Quirkless, or about Quirklessness. No one would understand it. No one wants to try. The topic rarely comes up, until a new semester begins and there’s talk of a new, Quirkless student in Gen Ed looking to transfer into the Hero Course.

Then Quirklessness is all anyone wants to talk about. Now something Izuku can’t avoid, he struggles to deal with his own past, the piece of his trust he hasn’t extended to his friends, and a look into a life that might have been his.

Aizawa, Present Mic, and Shirakumo

when there’s blood in my ears, i’ll hold you closer

Present Mic had always had a rough time controlling his quirk. The day he finds out about Oboro, he slips. Aizawa is always there to comfort him (from @tolerantbean).

It’s getting hard to breathe under here with you, my dearest nemesis

The villain Present Mic has a Quirk that could level buildings and cause a lot of destruction. The hero Eraserhead is one of the few people, if not the only person, who can stop him.

At the end of the day, Hizashi and Shouta are best friends, carefully tending to each other’s wounds and never speaking of either heroes or villains. Until a bigger problem forces them to work together.

an empty mirror only shows what's left inside*

Time loop AU. A few days after Shirakumo’s death, Shouta wakes up to find his best friend is alive again. Time has reset—and now Shouta finds himself racing to save Shirakumo this time.

It doesn’t work. Days pass. And the loop starts again.

A mystery forms in the pieces of a strange doctor, a missing body, and discrepancies in the local newspaper. As Shouta fails again and again to save Shirakumo, he must try to figure out why he’s caught in a time loop… and what seems to be happening to Shirakumo after his death.

Come Around (Your Song is Calling)

Hizashi has always known that he and his best friend Shouta are soulmates. It’s why they work. It’s why Hizashi can see the glittering thread that ties them together when no one else can, and in the deep silence when he touches it he hears music.

Shouta goes missing. The bond goes silent. But Hizashi refuses to give up on his friend—not now, and not ever.

shades of blue*

After graduating, Aizawa Shouta isn’t where he wants to be. His decision to go underground is a lot different than most of his peers, and with everyone busy planning debuts and looking for agencies, Shouta feels isolated. The reminder that Oboro doesn’t get to be a hero follows him, yet at the same time the Hero Commission sends Shouta somewhere his Quirk and his youth will be useful—to help infiltrate and take down an illegal Quirk fighting ring.

Unable to confide in Hizashi about the mission or his struggles, Shouta continues to work alone, distance straining his relationships. Pitted against kids only a few years younger than him, each of whom begins to remind Shouta of Oboro, and fighting to keep his head above water, Shouta must keep his secrets close to him or lose it all.

they’ll think of me kindly

It’s easier to think of society in black in white, in heroes and villains. But Aizawa Shouta doesn’t do easy, and Kurogiri—Shirakumo Oboro—certainly isn’t making things any better. In a bid for information and to return Kurogiri to the person he once was, the investigation team brings in a specialist with a Quirk that allows for two people to be temporarily joined mind-to-mind. To experience each other’s thoughts, emotions, and memories with the danger of losing themselves.

Shouta’s scared if he goes in he won’t come back, but he’s also desperate to reconnect with the friend he’s convinced is still in there. Kurogiri consents to the connection. And after deliberation, Shouta does, too.

Together, they’re not just hero and villain, but somewhere in between as Shouta looks for the memories that have been hidden from Kurogiri and relives a few of his own.

Teachers

to die like a martyr (is no way to live)

All Might is beginning to learn to live again, redefining a path of self-destruction after retirement and meeting Midoriya, when he sees his co-worker and friend Aizawa heading down the same lonely path he was on. Reaching out, All Might and Aizawa form a friendship and struggle together so they may continue to teach their students, and to live as people and not just heroes.

Dekusquad

holding you up (while the world crashes down)

Five times Izuku comforted his friends, and one time they comforted him.

Izuku & Bakugou/Platonic BKDK

Do No Harm

Bakugou goes missing when he’s seven. Years later, Izuku still believes he’s alive and out there.

He is—as a Nomu that falters when Izuku recognizes him and calls him “Kacchan.”

for you know my demons, and i know yours*

Izuku and Katsuki parted ways after a mission gone south a long time ago and their relationship soured, but that doesn’t mean that they’re not still drift compatible. A Pacific Rim AU.

let’s start with the past in front

Pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku are sent back in time to when they weren’t the friends they are now, forced to deal with conversations they never had, their younger selves’ broken relationship, while looking for a way home.

Memories of the Dead

Midoriya Izuku’s funeral is held in the summer. They bury an empty casket and look around at all the faces who have outlived him.

Katsuki goes. There’s a lot of reasons he attends Deku’s funeral—for Auntie Inko, for All Might, for Deku himself. Katsuki was the last to see him alive. They’d shared breakfast the same day Deku disappeared.

But Katsuki doesn’t go to Deku’s funeral because he’s dead. Katsuki goes with the hope and gut feeling that he’s alive.

Izuku

Your Claws Rend Flesh

Midoriya Izuku has never been allowed to stay out past sundown. He always comes home early to his mother, the only person who he won’t hurt when he transforms into a monstrous beast.

His new Quirk and U.A. complicate things, to say the least.

Bonus notes: There’s a reason why Inko is so protective of her son, and resistant to him being a hero.

can you hear me?

Izuku, a few years after his pro hero debut, lands himself an injury that keeps from work for a while. Seeing Izuku unsure of what to do, the Wild, Wild Pussycats invite him to spend summer on their property in the woods to recover and recuperate; and, of course, as an excuse for Kouta to see his hero.

He’s happy to slow down, spending time learning to take care of himself, and to enjoy the woods. As he gets his strength back, he hikes often with Kouta, until one day they’re separated when a storm hits. With only a set of walkie talkies connecting them, the two struggle to find each other and shelter, before anything worse happens.

5% luck, 20% skill

Principal Nezu takes on Izuku as a student.

Bakugou

Out of the Fire

Bakugou as Gordon Ramsey... (from @aizawa-wears-crocs).

Snap

Katsuki is hit with a Quirk that dulls physical and emotional feelings. At first it seems fairly harmless to his friends, until he gets hurt and his reaction is much different than anyone expects.

lead me down the road less traveled

When he’s young, Bakugou Katsuki decides what he wants to be when he grows up: a villain.

And Katsuki always gets what he wants.

Todoroki Family

the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had

There’s a ghost haunting the Todoroki mansion. Rumors say it drove Todoroki Rei insane. Shouto has never seen it himself, has only heard footsteps in the hallway sometimes, but one day he discovers the stories are true—and the ghost is someone he knows, his own brother.

The Fire Within You

Scared of the Quirk he’s inherited from his father, Midoriya Izuku runs away from home after a terrible accident. And though the police and his mother search desperately for Izuku, someone else has found him first - an older, scrappy boy whose Quirk is similar to his own. Dabi takes Izuku under his wing, and their meeting lights a fire that may never have started otherwise.

violets are blue | blood is red

Todoroki Rei has been receiving flowers from her husband. At least, that’s what Shouto believes until she goes missing. The key he has to find her is the blue flowers on her windowsill and a tenuous connection to a villain: Dabi, whose motives remain unclear yet who seems to have a particular grudge against the number one hero.

Arsonist's Lullaby

Here is one secret few people know about the Todoroki family: Todoroki Natsuo is Quirkless. He had no power over fire nor ice, and his father never speaks of his Quirkless son—or his dead one.

Studying health and welfare, Natsuo keeps his head down and his anger simmering. He’s no hero like Shouto. Without a Quirk and with too much resentment, Natsuo has never considered the life of heroics or anything related to it—that is, until a strange encounter where bleeding, dangerous villain Dabi asks Natsuo for his help.

Natsuo doesn’t know why he helps Dabi, nor does he understand why Dabi doesn’t seem to want to hurt him. But one encounter with the villain turns into more, until Natsuo realizes one day he understands Dabi better than his own father Endeavor. He doesn’t get why Dabi cares so much or why he feels safe around him. When Dabi offers to help Natsuo leave his life behind, Natsuo is faced with a choice… and his own family.

When the Glitter Fades

When Todoroki Shouto is hit by a mysterious Quirk, he drops, unconscious. Though his friends worry, there seem to be no visible effects. No damage. Nothing wrong.

But as the days pass, Todoroki just… doesn’t wake up. He’s caught in a neverending dream that shows him his own deep desires—his family, whole again and happy. And he doesn’t want to leave.

Digging Dreams Out of the Fire

Moments of recovery between Todoroki Rei and her son Shouto.

Eri

when there’s blood in my ears, i’ll hold you closer*

Even after Overhaul’s defeat, there are still villains looking for more Quirk-erasing bullets, and for the girl they come from. When Eri is nearly kidnapped, Aizawa makes the difficult decision to take Eri temporarily into hiding with him. But their safe houses aren’t as safe as they’re supposed to be either, and Aizawa begins to suspect that the Hero Commission has reasons to want Eri, too.

take your medicine

Aizawa Eri did not like doctors. This was a fact. Eri had also never received proper vaccinations in her very short life. Luckily, her big brothers Mirio and Deku are there to hold her hand, even as she begins to spiral in the waiting room (from @happi-tree).

Other Characters of Class 1-A

Now You Don’t

Traitor!Hagakure AU. Class 1-A deals with their friend Hagakure’s mysterious disappearance, sharing their favorite stories of her and hoping for her safety as the search parties continue to come back empty-handed. Meanwhile, Tooru contemplates if going to the League was the correct decision - or if her new Sensei only sees her as another tool (from @happi-tree).

My Grand Plan

Hagakure Toru is surprised in her second year when she’s approached by a support and hero management firm that promises they will make people pay attention to her, but soon she accepts the offer to work together. But soon Toru realizes the firm’s support gear, plans, and inviting environment seems to cover something suspicious. And when they ask Toru for more information about her classmates and school, she begins to wonder if the support is for heroes or for villains.

visual (invisible)

Toru’s internship is drawing to an end, and though she’s grateful for the experience, she’s glad to be heading back to normal with classes and lunch with her friends without looking over her shoulder all the time. Not that anyone sees her, anyway, if she doesn’t want them to.

On her last day, she takes a bullet to the shoulder, and that’s when things fall apart.

They can see her. Toru’s friends, her classmates, her teachers: they can see her. It’s Toru’s childhood dream come true, all her prayers to the distant stars in the dark of night, her birthday wishes. No more going unnoticed. No more being invisible. No more of people looking right through her.

But it comes at the cost of her Quirk. Lost, unsure of her next steps, Toru has to figure out what it means to finally be seen when she’s been invisible her entire life, and what it means when she can no longer hide anything to anyone—or to herself.

balloons can’t make you fly

Five times Uraraka solved her problems by making them float, and one time she didn’t need her Quirk for it.

Don't ever tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash

When the Hero Commission gets involved with concerns about Hitoshi entering U.A.’s hero course due to his “villainous” Quirk, Hitoshi suddenly drops out of U.A. entirely, leaving his friends and teachers concerned about where he’s gone.

If the Hero Commission is law, Hitoshi makes the decision to defy it, taking a more direct approach to chasing his dreams: vigilantism.

Do you trust yourself?

Yaoyorozu Momo is supposed to be perfect. She is a recommended student, has a powerful Quirk, and comes from a family with a history of heroics.

But for all of her expectations, Momo knows she has one weakness: a crippling lack of confidence. But Momo’s friends and mentors are happy to teach Momo to trust herself.

A Momo-centric fic that spans her years at U.A. and her first steps as a hero.

Ignorance is Bliss*

Maybe Kyoka shouldn’t have been listening to Midoriya and All Might’s conversation, but she was curious. She ends up hearing more than she should—but not quite enough to get the full story.

Struggling to come to terms with “All Might’s legacy” and a connection to the villain who destroyed Kamino, All for One, Kyoka asks her classmate Todoroki for help unraveling a secret. The two form an unlikely team and friendship as they begin looking for the truth: about All for One, All Might, Midoriya, and the ties that bind them together.

Fear the Anger of a Kind Soul

There’s a bit of an unspoken rule in the dorms. Don’t mess with Uraraka.

Mineta tries. The story starts with him trying to sneak into her room, and ends with an expulsion, a few holes in the ceiling, and a social media post gone viral.

Dissociation Potion

Todoroki, in a spur of bad-decision making, makes a drink he found browsing social media.

It’s not pretty.

A Siren's Call

AU—Jirou Kyoka is an up-and-coming singer, known better as JACK!, pursuing her dreams in music after graduating. Her fast track through school and constant work leaves her lonely. Though she won’t admit it, she’s on the path to burnout; even as her fanbase grows, Jirou feels like no one really listens to her.

After performing at a Hero Gala, there are suddenly more eyes on her than usual, including villains. When she’s attacked, pro hero Creati saves her, and they become friends. Creati, or Yaoyorozu Momo, introduces Kyoka to more pro heroes; suddenly Kyoka has friends her age who like her music but more importantly like her.

Not everyone approves of Kyoka’s new friends, especially not her manager. Rumors start on social media. And a dangerous accident almost threatens to tear Kyoka’s friendships apart, but she’s determined not to lose the people she’s come to care for.

dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight

One by one, students at U.A. disappear overnight. No one knows where they’ve gone, or what happened.

Tension grows as parents panic, investigation turns up nothing, and the teachers search desperately for their students. That is, until Aizawa discovers a calling card left behind, half-hidden, on which is carefully written: Let’s dance.

What’s revealed is a Quirk trafficking ring—targeting powerful Quirks, with no better to choose from than the most prestigious hero school in Japan.

Cross the Delta

Asui Tsuyu knows even at the young age of seven that her froglike features make her an oddity amongst her peers. She tries to let their jeers and taunts slough off her like water, but they seep under her skin instead. A Hero with a Mutant Quirk helps her to see differently. Asui Tsuyu will become a Hero, oddity or not (from @happi-tree).

Miscellaneous

Revenge of the Roses

A non-deadly Hanahaki fic in which characters try to get each other to fall in love without falling in love back.

They’ve got a deadline: exams, when Hanahaki will get them out of it. They’ve got dates planned.

And, well, it doesn’t seem to be working. (Either the characters stay as friends and end up doing really nice things for each other, or they’re both falling in love. Oops.)

Run If You Can

Tensei’s hero career is— well, it’s over. There’s no wheeling around the fact, but that’s okay; he knows Tenya will be a great hero following in his footsteps and carrying the legacy of Ingenium.

It’s just that some days Tensei wheels down the hospital halls and realizes he’s become of the people that needs the saving, not the hero anymore. It’s just that some days he gets a call from the office or a bouquet of flowers and feels worse for the well wishes, not better. It’s just that some days he remembers it’s all over, and he’s one of the tragedies.

He doesn’t regret Stain. He doesn’t regret standing up to him, or lying in the street bleeding out knowing he might have saved someone else. But he doesn’t know what to do now.

There’s no running when you can’t run anymore.

#bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha prompt #fake fic asks #open prompts

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cylonalyna · 4 years ago

Text

Alyna watches Xena! S01x01 – Sins of the Past

Beware. For the road is long and full of spoilers… I mean, if a 25 years old show can be spoiled. But fair warning.

I was never a fan of Hercules so when I watched the pilot I didn’t know what Xena’s back story was and that it was Hercules who convinced her to change her ways. And because I didn’t know that, I thought Xena was just this ex-evil warrior who changed her ways because of some reason known to her. Anyway, I remember watching this episode out of boredom and thinking it’s just a female version of Hercules, but oh boy, was I wrong. Thankfully. And this thing here was supposed to be short but I made a very long recap of the episode. Sorry not sorry, I’m gonna be making recaps of the series. Yes, every single episode… Not regularly... And it's gonna be long… Deal with it.

And maybe read it and let me know what you think. :)

Oh, and if there are any grammatical or punctuation errors also let me know. English isn't my first language so there might be some things to fix. :)

We start with Xena is going through some burned village reminiscing on her past when she was just killing, pillaging and burning villages… And people too, I guess. And then there’s this boy coming out of a burned house asking for food. And when Xena asks him where his parents are, he says Xena killed them. He describes her attack as if the goddess herself showed up and fucked the village up for no reason and Xena is all like:

And it’s really one of the best moments of a pilot, because we’re shown flashback of the attack so even without watching Hercules and meeting Xena there we can see she used to be a bad bitch. So before leaving she gives the kid some bread and cheese so he could hide in his burned house and eat something before he dies of some sickness, gets killed, is eaten by wild animals in search for food etc. Brilliant plan boy, you’re a prodigy.

So then we have the scene where Xena digs a hole and puts her armor her sword and chakram there and frankly, she’s not really a clean lady since there’s still blood and some meat pieces on her chakram.

*rule #1 - wash your weapons from enemies intestines*

And suddenly, a whole bunch of villagers is chased by some warlord taken straight from Mad Max movie. Xena observes the situation, the Mad Max warlord says he’s gonna get the girls (men, smh) and then this blonde girl is all like “take me and leave everyone” and warlords are like “lmfao, nope” and Xena is all like:

*Carless Whisper saxophone solo intensifies*

Because frankly, who wouldn’t be? I know I had the same reaction to Gabrielle so I get Xena. I totally get it.

So when the warlord wants to whip Gabrielle for being insubordinate Xena suddenly jumps into action and starts kicking ass. We get backflips, kicks, punches and a really awesome action sequence until Xena is hit in the head (because she was watching if Gabrielle was safe and it got her distracted. Again, totally understandable).

Men are standing there groaning “argh, grr, rghhg” or something like that and then BOOM! Xena takes out her sword from the hole and with a laugh starts fighting them. And you can see how much fun she has. She kicks warlords’ asses and realizes they’re from Draco so she tell them to say hello from Xena. But who’s Draco? What does he do? Is he more evil then Xena? We don’t know! And… opening!

In a time of ancient gods, warlords… Well, you know it.

So later on Xena is in this small village surrounded by the villagers and Gabrielle is fawning over her and the whole situation, and Gabrielle’s father comes in being all like “thanks for saving us, but now GTFO” and this tall dude behind him wants to take Gabrielle. But Gabrielle is all like “dude, I know I’m supposed to marry you against my will and then die in childbirth or of boredom, but I’m not gonna listen to you. GTFO”. So when he leaves, Gabrielle begs Xena to take her with her. Xena being stoic and supposedly unmoved by Gabrielle words of course disagrees, because “she works alone” and… Then she tells Gabrielle she’s going to Amphipolis, because OF COURSE Gabrielle wouldn’t try and follow her. Nope. Not at all. And she goes like “don’t follow me, you don’t wanna make me mad, do you?” and of course Gabrielle is all like “yeah, no sure, I get it” but then is of course “meh, she’s not that scary. I just need a plan!”

So we move to Draco’s camp where he’s without shirt exposing his bare chest, being all handsome and shit, and being badass when catching almost four arrows at once. But then he’s sort of colorblind… I mean he notices the color of the arrow that wounded him but can’t see who has green arrows when the dude’s arrows are visible from behind his back...

*seriously Draco…*

Anyway, later he’s alone and Xena sneaks in and they have the whole who's tougher bitch, which is Xena of course, and she asks him to leave the village alone (because of her future wife or something) and Draco’s all like “yeah, sure… If you join me” and when Xena says she can’t join Draco, being a typical man he asks why. And we get this really awesome scene where Xena dramatically turns her back, stares at nothing and says she’s going home. OH, DRAMA!

So Draco becomes even a bigger drama queen than Xena and tells our warrior saying he’s dreamt of being in love with her or… fighting in battle or whatever, can’t remember, but Xena turns and Draco goes all soft and says he’ll spare those villagers. But he also asks Xena what's she looking for at home. Being still in drama mode he tells her that when he tried to come home his dad beat the shit out of him with a blacksmith’s hammer. And he survived that. Damn, he IS badass! I mean, have you people ever seen a blacksmith hammer?!

*10/10 wouldn't recommend this an educational tool*

Meanwhile, Gabrielle wants to escape home in the middle of the night and while sneaking out she… Hits strategically placed table waking up her sister Lila. Gabrielle explains to her she needs to follow Xena because she’s in lo… She wants to be a warrior like her and that she doesn’t love Perdicus and it’s her destiny. So Lila being a supportive sister is all like “Go, chase your girlf…. Dreams! Just do it!” and Gabrielle leaves.

*Lila being a supportive sister*

It’s daylight and Xena is riding Argo when suddenly her horse stops all afraid. So Xena gets off the horse that suddenly runs away and… The Blind Cyclops shows up with Draco’s dad’s blacksmith’s hammer! (I honestly don’t know if I used Saxon Genitive in the right way, but I hope you get the meaning). Xena is all like “Fuuuck, that’s a big hammer!” which makes the Blind Cyclops even more badass than he already is, but she stands to fight and humiliates him by dropping his pants. He starts bawling like a baby and Xena leaves him and continues her journey to Amphipolis, because she has no time to deal with Cyclops drama.

But Draco is plotting against Xena. He decides to attack Amphipolis and pretend it was Xena who told him to do it. Plot thickens, you guys.

Gabrielle is afraid of bridges… And gets caught by…Yes, you guessed right. The Blind Cyclops. But being a smart girl she says she’s out here to find and kill Xena because… And here we have very subtexty dialogue:

C: “How’s the young thing like you is gonna kill Xena?”

G: “That’s the point. She’d never let a man get close enough to do her. At least not that kind of do her. But a young, innocent looking girl like me, I’ll catch her totally off guard…

*You sure will, Gabrielle. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)*

At the same time, Xena is being followed by Draco’s warlords. They’re dumb enough to think she doesn’t know so she goes all ninja on them, fingers the Mad Max warlord… I mean, she cuts the blood to his body… Pervs. ;) And when she learns about the plan she leaves to stop the invasion.

In the next scene, Gabrielle is chilling out on the road when some old dude stops and tells her to GTFO, because she’s blocking the only route to Amphipolis. So Gabrielle convinces him to take her with him and the old dude agrees.

So while Gabrielle and the old man are traveling on the only route to Amphipolis, Xena is taking a detour through the hills for dramatic effect or something. Basically, New Zealand… I mean Greece is a beautiful place so why not show it, right? Right?

She meets those peasant women singing Bulgarian… I mean Greek chants and rides through them, but they don’t give a shit being too into chanting and putting on stacks of… Hay, I guess. Meh, whatever.

So Xena reaches Amhipolis and goes into a tavern to drink wine and sleep with beautiful women. But unfortunately it’s not that kind of a tavern and there’s no wine and beautiful women to sleep with. All she meets are angry people, silence and… wait for it… her mother, Cyrene!

Cyrene grabs Xena’s sword and tells her she’s not welcomed there and she should GTFO. Xena wants to rally people against Draco but Cyrene is against and she tells Xena she’d rather die and that she’s not her mother. And it’s a rather powerful stuff, because we only know glimpses of Xena’s past so we don’t really know how big her crimes are. Of course burning one village and killing peasants is a big no no, but Xena is too big of a character to be hated for such a minor offense. Anyway, villagers in the tavern also tell Xena to GTFO so she does.

Draco is pissed that Mad Max warlord told Xena about his plans and tells him to pick a weapon. Sadly it’s not Draco’s father’s blacksmith’s hammer because that’s been stolen by the Blind Cyclops, but a simple spear. Still, Draco proves to be truly awesome by kicking Mad Max warlord’s ass and killing him while telling new plans to his people. Truly, he was a great choice for a pilot.

In the morning, Xena comes back to the tavern looking around hoping to find some wine and beautiful ladies to sleep with, but to her disappointment there are still none. But her sword is there. And her mom is there. Oh boy, this tension between them could cut diamonds in half. But we get a bonding moment where Cyrene and Xena open old wounds so they could heal, and Xena tells her mother she might not be able to set things right, but she’s gonna spend the rest of her life to try. It’s another great moment in this show where we see Xena in her vulnerable state and not all powerful and strong. And this moment is ruined by villagers coming into the tavern saying Xena’s army is burning fields to which Xena answers they’re lying, Cyrene feels all hurt thinking it was all a ruse and leaves, and villagers start throwing rocks at our warrior princess.

But then Gabrielle comes to the rescue! Because Gabrielle has a natural talent to talk her way out of troubles, she uses it to save Xena. She uses a cunning bluff of “if you hurt bad guy’s girlfriend imagine how pissed he’ll be”. So the villagers reluctantly agree and decide to not commit murder. After a small talk Xena takes Gabrielle on her horse and takes her to her dead brother. Because, you know, there’s no better start of a romance than a visit at the crypt.

So Xena is talking to his dead brother saying she’s lost but that she’s gonna be ok, but that she’s alone and then Gabrielle shows up saying she’s not. And by the way that they’re looking at each other we’re to believe these two weren’t into each other from the beginning? Please.

*they’ve known each other for like 1 hour and we get those looks already? So straight indeed*

Meanwhile, the villagers are waiting for Draco to make a deal, but when he shows up he’s threatening to destroy everything and kill everyone unless they tell him where Xena is. And this is another great moment for Draco, because he really is a scary and ruthless dude and I really wish he was more in this show then just 3 episodes. It was a wasted character, imo.

Anyway, while threatening the leader to kill him, Xena shows up and Draco makes fun of her asking about the homecoming. Again, he tries to convince Xena to join him and goes all Palpatine saying she should “celebrate her dark side”, but Xena is all like “pfft, fuck off and let’s fight to the death”. Draco tells her to choose weapons, but Xena leaves the choice to Draco. Now, Draco being a really smart guy and someone who knows how good Xena is with swords, chooses staffs. I’m sure he believes it’ll give him advantage or at least even oit the odds. Xena chooses the conditions and her conditions are to fight on a scaffolding. The first person to touch the ground is gonna die. Draco agrees and tells his people that whoever falls first is to be killed.

Doing a flip with the help of his people he gets to a scaffolding and grabs his staff. Xena is way more of a showgirl. She hits the dude with his staff and when he leans down she jumps on his back and then on a head of another warlord and jumps to meet her opponent.

They start fighting. It’s an even fight and Draco proves to be a worthy opponent. Soon Xena has to fight to stay on the bamboo scaffolding as it starts to fall off. The archers prepare to shoot, Cyrene shows up and everyone is thinking if she’s gonna fall. But no, Xena standing on one bamboo stick starts hitting bamboos under Draco’s feet to make him back out and leave him vulnerable. But Draco stands tough and very soon he manages to make Xena almost fall again. She manages to hang on her staff, her legs barely touching the ground. Cyrene starts panicking, being all teary, because, come on, she’s a mom. No matter how pissed our moms are at us, they worry 24/7.

Draco starts hiting Xena’s hands wanting her to let go and fall, asking her why she would die for the people that hate her. But Xena grabs Draco’s staff with her feet and doing a truly awesome backflip she manages to stand on the scaffolding again attacking him. Draco almost falls but jumps on people’s heads and give Xena a signal to join him.

And the same villagers who earlier denied Xena her wine and beautiful women to sleep with, and wanted her dead are now supporting her… Literally. She manages to stand on the arms of one person and attacks Draco. They do backflips, kicks, punches and all that for a few minutes and then with one swift kick to the chest Draco falls down on the ground and Xena jumps on his chest looking down upon him to let him know he’s just a little bitch and not a match to her skills. Xena promises to spare Draco if he leaves the valley and he agrees.

But one of his warlords decides to sneakily attack Xena from behind. Gabrielle’s warns her, but before the warrior can react Draco throws his knife at him. After all, Draco may be a ruthless warlord, but he’s honorable.

After the fight Xena is preparing to leave when Cyrene shows up and hugs Xena, who asks again for forgiveness and is, of course, given that. It's a truly awesome moment in this pilot.

But, and honestly I have no idea why, Xena doesn’t stay in the tavern for wine and beautiful women to sleep with. Maybe there is no wine and beautiful women to sleep with after all. Instead, Xena starts a fire near some woods when she hears some noise and goes into a warrior mode. But, as it turns out, it’s just Gabrielle saying she wanted to follow Xena without her noticing, but she couldn’t start a fire and it’s cold and there are mosquitoes looking lkke eagles or something.

Xena wants to send her back home, but Gabrielle says she won’t go. There’s a talk about not belonging there and Xena seems to understand Gabrielle completely. So when she gives Gabrielle a blanket we get one of the most beautiful moments in the pilot.

*couldn't find gif so you're stuck with bad screenshot*

And in the morning we see Xena and Gabrielle travelling to new adventures to right wrongs, drink wine and… Oh forget it.

This episode is all kinds of awesomeness. It’s a great introduction to a character of Xena even to those, like me, who didn’t know her from Hercules. It has tons of very well choreographed fights, amazing music and it’s a rreally strong pilot that makes you wanna see more.

10/10

#xena warrior princess #xena #gabrielle #xena and gabrielle #lucy lawless #renee o'connor #sins of the past #01x01 #alyna watches xena

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seyaryminamoto · 4 years ago

Note

I think the episode Th Beach was supposed to portray Zuko in a sympathetic manner, but in my opinion it makes Zuko look worse. This is the ONLY episode in which Zuko spends a substantial amount of time interacting with the fire nation citizens, and he can barely control his jealously and temper around them. He even wreaked Chan’s house. Those are his future subjects. He should have learned to treat them better if he’s ever going to be fire lord.

Playing the devil’s advocate just slightly, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’m pretty sure Zuko’s complete incompatibility with the Fire Nation during the first half of Book 3 intended to convey a message that says Zuko doesn’t know how to fit in with his old life anymore. Hence, he couldn’t have a particularly positive thing going for him in the Fire Nation besides Mai, because then he’d have enough roots to keep him locked down in his role as Ozai’s heir and he wouldn’t feel as easily compelled to turn his back on his royal life and do the right thing.

Nonetheless, it is a problem from a thematic standpoint, I agree 100% with that. I have more than enough problems with Zuko’s character arc, but that his connection with his nation is practically severed or non-existent feels really wrong to me, especially when the show makes a point to feature Team Avatar bonding with ordinary Fire Nation citizens, and even finding some, like Piandao, who aren’t supporters of Ozai’s rule.

In my personal opinion, Zuko could have undergone a storyline akin to that of Alejandro in Mask of Zorro, who was absolutely out of place amid nobles, but he had to play a role so he could find the information he needed and put an end to their self-serving plans. There’s a very heartwrenching scene in that movie when the group of nobles are basically touring a gold mine where enslaved locals are forced to serve their lords, and one of these slaves, an old friend of Alejandro’s, attemps to attack them only to get killed immediately by the asshole captain protecting the nobles. Alejandro then steps forward and cradles the dying man, who recognizes him and realizes what Alejandro is doing, disguised as a nobleman... and then the man dies in his arms, smiling because he believes Alejandro will set things right. But he still dies, and Alejandro is obviously both livid and depressed about it because he couldn’t save his friend.

Obviously... there’s no way Zuko would be put in a similar situation, at least not a situation that’s 100% the same as this, it’d be way too dark for Avatar even if Avatar did feature dark situations when it suited the plot. But if Zuko’s journey had been mapped thoroughly from day one... gee, how about Jet doesn’t die, but instead gets captured and handed over to the Fire Nation, and Zuko finds him in a cell at the Prison Tower when he’s on his way to meet Iroh? His old frenemy, in horrible shape... Zuko finds he doesn’t care about the past, because he knows this is wrong and Jet’s been through more than enough by Fire Nation hands, so he releases the guy and they escape! And then Jet potentially acknowledges that not all Fire Nation people are garbage thanks to Zuko... while Zuko realizes, through Jet’s words, that if there’s good in the Fire Nation he has to find a way to help it grow, and that there’s so much he can start doing to fix the mess of a country he’s supposed to rule someday.

With that as a starting point, Zuko could begin to travel through his nation, to learn more about his people, to visit cities and villages and find out if they’re living well or not (then maybe confront his father about their living conditions, showing a Zuko who’s no longer scared of standing up to Ozai, not even if it means risking the approval he chased after so desperately for years). Imagine him showing up at Jang Hui village, finding this horrid situation the villagers are living in! He’d not only cross paths with Team Avatar, which could be interesting at this stage, but he’d also potentially offer the people an alternate living location because he wants them to be free to live in better conditions than this... only for Team Avatar’s approach to teach him that maybe the answer isn’t running away or leaving when your house is on fire, but to put out the fire by any means you have available. Then, Zuko could start having many similar epiphanies throughout his journeys in his own country and understand that his work with the Fire Nation has to be FOR the Fire Nation itself, and not the glorified concept his father believes in: he’d have to work for the people who are unaware of how oppressed they are, the people who barely can get by in these times of war, those who have lost family, those who have lost friends, all be it for a war that makes no sense. Had Zuko’s character arc focused on THIS rather than exclusively on his own internal struggle... you probably wouldn’t see that many Zuko-critical posts on my blog. It would convey a strong message about what it really means to be a leader, and Zuko’s character would benefit greatly from that.

... But yep. Instead we got him losing his temper at small triggers, acting out and being very much socially inept. I understand what they were going for, I repeat it, and I don’t think it’s fundamentally WRONG... but I do think it’s too simple considering the scope of the story they were telling, and the character development they were trying to build for Zuko. There’s way too much to address with a character like Zuko... and that all his growth was meant to be internal (with even a few things that either were never addressed or were addressed poorly or that he supposedly grew out of but then regressed into all over again) may not have done him any favors.

... And well, I’ll say, I actually don’t think most of The Beach intended to portray Zuko as sympathetic? Maybe only the point where he gives Mai gifts that she rejects, and when he goes to the old family villa, but in general he feels like such an ass in that episode that I’m pretty sure they were making him an ass intentionally xD Yet I can’t agree more, it’s really wrong that the only time we see Zuko interacting normally with common Fire Nation people, as equals, he acts the way he does. I’tll never not confuse me that Team Avatar gets to see and learn more of the Fire Nation, and interact positively with their people, than Zuko did...

#anon #the eternal zuko debate (?)#so many eternal debates (?)#a lot of times I feel the core issue with ATLA...#... is that they didn't have enough time to get to everything they should have #and by they I mean the writers and showrunners #I know some people might say it's a problem of wasting time with fillers but you know what...#ATLA's fillers actually WORK #maybe a few aren't great #but you get to learn more about their world and the characters inner lives and that's great as far as I'm concerned #but if they had longer than just 20-ish episodes per season #maaaaaaaaaaybe...#they could've handled these subjects a little better #maybe #*shrugs*

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pine-siskin-agere · 4 years ago

Note

For the agere prompt list thing, 4. Samirah and Magnus are out on a adventure, when she accidentally regresses. How does Magnus react?

I just really like Sam and I think she deserves to be an agere.

Prompt by @agerefandom

4. Character A and B are travelling: it’s stressful enough that Character A regresses accidentally

I took some liberty with this prompt, I horribly misread this ask somehow and thought it said “hanging out” I can probably do you another one with them out on an adventure but for now,,, Doing schoolwork in Magnus’ room will have to count as one.

Don’t think about the timeline to much please. I skimmed through book one a little bit to collect some notes on their personalities, I didn’t want to accidentally mess with canon (it’s been awhile since I’ve read MC) so this is probably somewhere in the middle of book ones

I did my best with the editing but it has never been my strong suit, if you see something wrong let me know.

Words: 1,224

Warnings: Involuntary regression, Magnus and Sam get into an argument, Sam is stressed by school, ask to tag.

:readmore:

Magnus stretched out his legs, digging his fingers into the warm grass beneath him. Looking straight up he watches the branches above him sway in whatever breeze he wasn’t feeling.

Sam’s bag was open next to him. He could hear her muttering beside him as she read whatever assignment her teachers tormented her with this week.

After a while she let out a deep sigh and flopped on the grass next to Magnus.

“Your room’s nice, warm.”

“Thanks. I had nothing to do with it.”

He watched the corners of Sam’s eyes crinkle with that mischievous grin of hers. She stretched her arms out above her head,

“How’s the being dead thing going for you?”

Magnus drew back the urge to sigh, he never took Sam as the awkward small talk type.

“Well, everyone here hates me.” he sighed, “How’s the whole being alive thing?”

“Life’s. . . good.”

That nearly made Manus sit up from his warm grass bed. He had been stressed enough times in life to spot a mask. He’d told the same lie so many times that to hear its thrown back at him might as well have been jumping on a table and yelling

‘Hey! Look here, everything is absolutely not good!’

One look at Sam’s face and he noticed her defined eye bags and the thick pile of work next to her. He could hardly remember the last time he held a proper textbook. Being homeless kind of put everything in his life on pause. He wondered if the adults in Sam’s life were like his mother when it came to that sort of thing

‘Keep it up and you’ll be in harvard!’

Dammit Magnus, stop thinking about her. He cleared his throat. The sound was rather obnoxious if Sam’s flinch was a tell.

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s true.” He tried to keep his tone light, sometimes people could act out when they felt vulnerable. He‘d seen it happen in shelters.

“So you do have a brain in there! Good job Magnus, you made an observation.” Her voice held the same condescending tone that seemed common in their conversations.

“Damn, alright.”

Sam’s brief smile fell away,

“No . . . no I’m sorry it’s . . . It’s been a rough few weeks, more and more warriors are dying and. . . sometimes it sucks to see people die you know? It’s getting harder to hide everything from my grandparents. I’m so behind on all my assignments, my grades are starting to suffer I just . . . It’s a lot.”

Magnus took everything to the best of his ability, was that it? He expected more.

He pondered over his response, how do you even respond to that? Crappy advice? Awkward comfort? He swallowed.

“Wow Chase, if you didn’t care you could have just said something.”

Her entire demeanour seemed to shift. She no longer had that mischievous comedian type grin. The type that made her look moments away from breaking into cackles at a moments notice. Instead, her fingers twitched with irritation and her face had a similar look to when they first met. When she slammed him into a wall and yelled at him. The face you’d expect from Loki’s daughter.

“No. . . No Sam that’s not what I-“

“Whatever Magnus, forget it, you wouldn’t understand.” Her words were like clay, solid but the smallest tap could make them break.

“Oh, I wouldn’t understand? I’m *dead* Sam. I know what stress feels like.” Magnus knew better than to argue with Same when she got upset but his words felt uncontrollable.

“Exactly Magnus! You’re dead you don’t get to talk about the feelings of the living anymore. that‘s not your life anymore. that‘s not your stress. You don’t know what my life is like.”

Magnus wanted to scream, wanted to shout back

‘I was homeless and my mom was murdered and my entire future went down the drain when I died when I was sixteen years old! But sure, you have it hard.’ Any words he had got caught in his throat. His anger vanished when he noticed the tears in Sam’s eyes and the trembling in her shoulders.

Just because he’s had a hard time didn’t mean he could make others have a harder time. He felt like screaming at himself for even thinking that way.

“Sam . . . I’m sorry” All he got in return was a loud sob as Sam clutched her bag to her chest.

He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder. Sam smacked his hand away, before throwing herself into his arms. Which would have likely hurt more if it weren’t for his enhanced einherji strength.

As gently as he could he stroked his hand down her back as she sobbed loudly into his shirt. The damp fabric clutched in her fists,

“It’s not fair! It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to die every day, I shouldn’t see everyone die everyday! School shouldn’t be so dumb! Stupid! Stupid! I hate the gods! I hate them!”

Magnus let out a deep breath. He didn’t know much about the afterlife but he knew you shouldn’t go around saying those things about the gods. Any of them. Even if it was true. He pulled her into a hug, tight enough to apply some pressure. Normally he’d be more careful about holding Same like that. But normally she don’t throw herself into his arms, so there was that.

“I’m sorry Sam . . . It’s not fair, to anyone”

It felt good to say those words, they must have sounded good to Sam because she relaxed a bit.

She unhooked her hands from Magnus’s shirt, opting to shove her fingers into her mouth instead. It reminded Magnus of the way children would put anything within reach in their mouths.

He carefully pulled her hand away,

“Hey, that’s dirty. You got anything better? Chewing gum?”

She readjusted her hijab and moved her arm in the direction of her bag, which she had thrown to the side at some point. Magnus reached for it and opened it. digging through the pockets he found a medium sized blue wooden box crudely decorated with dollar store glitter. Same immediately snached it from his hands. She pulled out what looked to be a large green pacifier, she put it in her mouth without even checking to see it clean. Magnus pulled out a small sketchbook and a pack of crayons from the box. Sam clumsily got off his lap and grabbed for the items. Magnus handed them to her with some hesitation.

If he was being fully honest this was pretty weird, not necessarily bad weird, but weird. He supposed everything about his death was weird so far, what was one teenaged valkrie who liked to suck on pacifiers and slam him into walls?

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there, Sam never ended up finishing those assignments. Magnus spent a while watching her excitedly Scribble airplanes with crayons. She became fond of shoving those drawings in his face while he did his best to act like it was the most divine creation he had seen. It wasn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon.

Eventually Sam stopped and got up, tucking everything back into her bag. As she walked to the door she turned to look at him.

“If you tell a sole about this you’re dead, Chase.”

Magnus nodded, then, she left.

#fandom agere #Magnus chase agere #age regression #sfw agere #age regression fics #Magnus chase #fantasy agere #agere aesthetic

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nikkzwrites · 4 years ago

Text

(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 4

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: 7.9k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

“From then on, I knew that nothing changes,” the man explained to his son as their carriage went through the Winden woods, “That all things remain. The spinning wheel turns, round and round, in a circle. One fate tied to the next. A thread, red like blood, that connects all our deeds.” The man closed the book and explained to his son, “Ariadae. That was your mother’s favorite play. She surely would have liked to come with us tonight, in the company of such a distinguished young man.” He opened up his watch to see an engraving, “For Charlotte” inside.

His blind son spoke, “Why do we die?”

“The dead are never truly dead,” his father explained, “Maybe they’re not here, now. But everything that once lived, lives on forever. In the eternity of time.”

The old man sat remembering this memory of his father when his carriage stopped. He panicked as he heard his coachmen start to speak to someone. He hid his money away as he held close his mother’s favorite play. As the footsteps approached he asked, “Who is there? Who are you?”

“He who has eyes to see,” The Unknown spoke, “and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret, because if his lips are silent,he chatters with his fingertips. Betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.”

“I…” The old man spoke, “I don’t understand.”

The middle part of the Unknown nodded, “Oh, but you do. You’re going into town to draft a telegram. Because you want to tell the world about us. Are you not?”

The man started to panic, “You’re one of them. A traveler. All those years.” As the man rambled, the Unknown started to take out his wire, “they said my father was insane. But now they are here. The travelers from the future. The world must know that they exist.”

The Unknown shook his head, “What we know… is a drop. What we don’t know is an ocean.” He slowly leaned forward to eand the man’s life.

Eve spoke to Jonas, “The mistake in all of our thinking is that we each believe ourselves to be an independent entity. One self… besides countless other selves.” When Jonas turned to her, she continued, “While, in reality, we’re all just fractions of an infinite whole.”

“What is this place,” Jonas asked Eve, “A copy of my world?”

Eve strolled over to him and asked, “Do you remember what you said to me? Under the bridge? The light. The forest. You. Me.”

“A glitch in the matrix,” Jonas responded. He stared to glare at her and asked, “Why am I here?”

Eve studied him then looked up at the painting, “You and I. Adam and Eve. That’s what we are. A glitch in the matrix. You want to know why you’re here? To save them. Your world and mine.”

“Last night, Kilian Obendorf, Bartosz Tiedemann, Annalise Dahlheim also known as Annalise Kahnwald, and Franziska Doppler, along with Magnus and Martha Nielsen, found an as-yet-unidentified boy’s body on the Doppler property by the forest road. His clothes and the Walkman are from the 1980s,” Ulrich explained with tears in his eyes, “We also found… an ID card on the body.” His eyes shifted to look at the evidence box. Ulrich started to sob and Charlotte walked over to him to give him a hug.

Charlotte turned to Woller and asked, “Woller, may you continue?” She turned to Ulrich and whispered, “Can I talk to you for a second?” Ulrich looked up and followed the woman into the file room. She turned to the defeated man and said, “You don’t have to do this. Woller can do the briefings. I can go to forensics. Go home.”

“I’ve spent 33 years looking for my brother,” Ulrich spoke up against the woman, “Those are his belongings. Those are Mads’ belongings.” He took a deep breath and said, “Someone… Someone kept them all. And then put them on the boy in the bunker. Thirty-three years later.”

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. She asked, “You think it was the same killer? That it’s all connected. Mads, Erik, the boy in the bunker?”

Ulrich looked at her and asked, “Do you know why I joined the police? When my brother disappeared… they made pretty much every mistake you could imagine. The detective was a drunken moron. And me? I swore I’d do it all differently. That I’d do everything right. That was 33 years ago. And what do I do? My marriage is ruined and now I’m cheating on the woman I cheated on my wife with.” Ulrich sighed as Charlotte touched his face, “I can’t do this anymore.” He allowed her to remove her hand and he walked out of the office.

Jonas looked up to see Bartosz strutting in with Martha slowly approaching behind him. Jonas stormed to Bartosz and demanded, “Where were you?” His eyes turned towards Martha and turned back to Bartosz to ask, “What did she tell you?”

“We’ve been stuck here for weeks,” Bartosz responded to the man, “The fucking device is empty. You have no idea how any of this works. All you did was lie! You knew what would happen, and you told us NOTHING!”

Jonas growled, “Don’t you realize she’s just using you?” He motioned towards the girl and spoke, “That isn’t Martha. She’s dead.” His heart ached at his memories, “No one returns from the dead.”

Magnus spoke up and said, “Whoever she is… she may be our only chance to get out of here.”

Bartosz grit his teeth then asked Jonas, “Why don’t you tell us the truth?” When Jonas didn’t say anything, Bartosz stepped closer and growled, “Tell them who really killed Annalise and Martha.”

Jonas’s eyes flinted to Martha then down after hearing Bartosz. He sidestepped and started his way out of the warehouse. Bartosz growled and waited for a moment before going and chasing him outside.

“Bartosz! Wait,” Magnus called as he and Franziska chased after him.

The rain fell as Jonas walked outside. He silently thanked the God forsaken town for complying with his emotions before he heard Bartosz screaming behind him.

“Tell them,” Bartosz demanded. He growled as he pushed the man over, “Tell them who Adam really is!” The two rolled around fighting just as they did 34 years ago before Magnus and Franziska pulled them apart. Magnus held Bartosz back as he screamed at everyone, “I told you all along! Jonas is to blame for everything!” He fought Magnus off and stood away from everyone as he cried, “It’s him. He’s Adam!” When Magnus looked at him in disbelief, Bartosz screamed through his tears once more, “He’s Adam! Adam wasn’t even the one who killed Annalise! It was just him proper! He killed both of them!” He stormed away from the group after asking Jonas, “Couldn’t have both so killed them both? Huh?”

Jonas and Magnus tried to catch their breaths and exchanged a look.

Eve, at the same time in another universe, told Jonas, “In all of that, didn’t you ever wonder, why you can’t let go of them, of her? You knew, you know it’s impossible. Yet still, you can’t let it go.” When Jonas turned to her with tear filled eyes, she continued, “An invisible bond that binds you for eternity. Adam tried to sever it. But that’s impossible.” She took out a silver tree of life necklace and showed it to him, “You gave this to me.”

Jonas took out his Annalise’s necklace and rubbed his dirt covered fingers over it, cleaning the blood off of it.

“You and I,” Eve continued, “Black and white. Light and shadow. We are bound together for eternity in this eternally repeating deja vu.”

Jonas whispered, “What is all this? What do you want?” His voice started to get louder, “Why don’t you just tell me why I’m actually here?”

“You’ve seen what you’ll do,” Eve tried to reason with him, “What Adam will do. If you want to save your Annalise, you have to choose the side of light. And you have to make me what I am today.”

Jonas slowly approached her, “I have to? I don’t have to do anything anymore. I’m sick to death of always having to do things!”

“Then ask yourself,” Eve responded, “what you want.” Watching his face change she asked, “Do you want her to live?”

Annalise awoke, yet she was still face to face with Mads. She screamed and started to cry again. She kicked the small enclosure entrapping her with the dead boy. She heard a very familiar voice call her name. Then Mads slowly turned to Mikkel then to her father. After that, Annalise found herself listening to her father’s voice message and words flowed out of her mouth without consent, “I just called to let you know I had my first kiss today.” Her tears choked her as her voice continued against her will, “I wish you could have met him Dad. His name is Adam and he reminds me so much of you and mom. You would love him just as much as I’ve fallen for him.” As she looked out the window, her vision faded to black. Her throat feeling like it was being filled with water again. When Annalise tried to scream, she found herself in something like a mirror of Martha’s room. Annalise turned and saw a blond boy there laying next to her, fast asleep. He seemed so familiar. Her hand shakely reached out and his name spilled from her lips without knowing, “Jonas?”

Right when the boy was about to turn, Annalise shot up in her bed in Ulrich’s house. Her breath shaking from terror and crying. She turned towards her phone to see Bartosz had tried to call her. There was a text there saying, ‘If you need to talk, let me know.’

Hannah burst into the room, “Annalise!” She quickly waddled to the girl and held her closely as the teenager started to scream, “Shhhh… It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” Hannah kissed the girl’s head as she rocked with her, “I’m here.” As she rocked the girl, her eyes started to trace the electrical burn scars on the teenager, yet she said nothing.

Martha stared up at the ceiling in her room. After finding the body last night, it was the last straw and Katharina forced her to come back home to be with her family instead of staying the night with Annalise. When Ulrich was finally able to come home that night, he drove his daughter back to his ex-wife. She sighed remembering that argument and the one before it where Hannah, her, and her mother argued about where Martha should be with as Annalise stood there just zoning out repeatedly and mumbling to herself some physics equations. Katharina had only conceded from seeing Annalise and knowing that the girl probably needed someone. So she made the condition that once Ulrich was back home, he was to bring Martha back. She heard the doorbell ring and sighed as she got out of bed. When she answered the door, there in front of her was Ulrich. “Dad,” she asked in disbelief.

“Can I come inside,” he asked his daughter.

Martha sighed and begrudgingly allowed the man inside. They stood in front of the staircase.

Ulrich asked, “Is Magnus here too?”

Martha studied her father trying to get a read on him, “I think he’s still sleeping.”

Ulrich nodded and told the girl, “You have to tell me the truth. What really happened in the bunker?” When his daughter looked at him again in disbelief, he continued, “What did you see?”

“I did tell the truth,” Martha said, “we went in and the bunker was empty. There was nobody there! Then there was a light. And then this...this body fell down. Annalise fainted at the sight of it.”

“Had you taken anything,” Ulrich asked accusingly.

“What,” Martha questioned him.

As Magnus walked down the stairs, Ulrich asked again, “Did that Kilian kid give you anything?” Magnus just finished walking down the stairs when Ulrich turned to him and asked, “Come on, what did you take?”

“What is this shit,” Magnus sneered at this father, “Are you playing worried father now? Why don’t you ask your precious new daughter?” Martha looked at her brother and shook her head, yet he continued, “You usually don’t give a shit about us!”

Martha crossed her arms and shrugged, “It’s just as we told you. There was this noise...It came from the caves...or the ground,...or… I don’t know. We went to the bunker. At first there was nothing there, then...he...he was just lying there.”

Ulrich turned away and stared out into the dining room calculating what was going on.

“Is that all,” Magnus growled at his father. When his father turned to look at him again, Magnus replied, “Mom will be back any moment. You’d better go. But it was nice of you to drop by to see how we’re doing.” When Ulrich reached up to caress him, Magnus took a step back.

Hannah walked through the halls of the police station with a tray of brownies. When she was greeted by Woller and Charlotte, she asked, “Is Ulrich here? I’ve been trying to reach him all morning. Annalise is having nightmares and just woke up finally.”

Charlotte shook her head and said, “I thought he went home.”

Hannah studied the woman for a second. Her mind started to wonder. “You look so different,” commented the woman, “Did you get a haircut?”

Charlotte shook her head, “No.”

Hannah looked her up and down. She laughed, then hugged the woman. She took her smell in deeply. She pulled away and waited a moment before saying, “It’s nice to see you. I’ll just put this in his office.”

Charlotte turned and watched her go.

Hannah closed the door behind her and walked to place the container on his desk. She looked up as she realized who it was that Ulrich was cheating on her with. She left as the pictures of his children, Annalise with Martha, and herself with him burned their place on his desk.

Annalise sat there staring at the wall. Her brain running six different directions just trying to figure everything out. She ran her fingers through her hair as she screamed. She yelled and closed her eyes. Everything that happened kept running in her head. Her dreams danced in her head. She felt empty. There was a pulling inside of her. She ran out to the woods and screamed again. It felt as if someone was tugging at a string within her. Plucking at it, like a chord of a guitar.

“Can we talk,” Martha asked her brother as she walked in.

Magnus rolled his eyes, “Get lost.” He assumed she was going to scold him about what he said about Annalise.

Martha, instead, walked in and sat next to Magnus, “Last night…in the forest... Did you see anything else?”

“No,” Magnus told her, “Like what?”

Martha turned away from her brother and asked, “Do you sometimes feel like you’re losing your mind? That nothing makes sense anymore?” She sighed and commented, “Maybe… Dad is right.” When Magnus looked at her confused, she said, “Maybe he was already lying there.” She shrugged and said, “And...we…”

Magnus stared at her and stated, “I know what I saw.” Martha and he sat quietly for a minute before she stood up and walked to his window. “Where are you going,” he asked.

“Don’t tell Mom,” Martha replied, “I’ll be back for dinner.” She opened the window and left.

“Everything repeats itself,” Eve told Jonas, “Again and again for all eternity. Because none of us is prepared to let go.” She lifted up a light and walked over to Jonas, “It took me a long time to understand that. That you can’t let go of your past. That you will always choose her, always choose your Annalise.” She nodded and told him, “And just as you can’t let go of your past, I’ve spent my life clinging to mine.” She made a face then told him, “You trusted Adam. But where did that lead you?” She walked to Jonas and said, “You have to show her, Martha, how everything is connected. You don’t have much time left. She has to see her future in order to understand what must be done.” She handed him the lantern and spoke, “She will follow you. She is bound to your fate, just as you are to hers.”

Jonas grabbed it from her and turned away. He looked at Eve and wondered if she knew what he was thinking. He walked out of the office determined to find Annalise before trying to go forward with Eve’s plan.

In Adam’s world, Martha looked down at the necklace in her hand. She quickly hid it after hearing a knock on the door. She pushed herself closer towards the window as she looked to see who was coming in.

Jonas opened the door and closed it behind him. He stood in the middle of the room and said, “You said I was in your world. With you. Why can’t I remember it?”

“I don’t know,” Martha told the man, “That letter… I didn’t write it.” She slowly approached him and said, “You have to believe me.” As he turned away, she spoke again, “Sic Mundus, what is it?”

Jonas sighed, “Old Tannhaus’ father… tried to bring someone back from the dead. His wife. He was convinced that the ability to time-travel would be the world’s salvation. Every mistake could be prevented before it even occurs. But it doesn’t bring salvation. Only Damnation.”

Martha took a deep breath and growled, “They’re all dead. In my world. I can’t help hoping I can change that.” He glared at her as he tried to walk away, but the girl grabbed him, “I know you think you can’t trust me. I want to prove to you that you can.” She brought him out into the woods and unburied her ball to show him the device she used to get there.”

“This is what you used to travel,” He asked.

Martha nodded at him. She undid a dial and took out a small dark ball, “this is the last one I have.” She held it out to him, “It’s the only way I can go back again.”

Jonas sighed as he took it from her.

Eve sat in her office waiting for her son and Mary. The Unknown walked in with all materials he had grabbed for her.

The Unknown told his birth mother, “You could have told him which path you’re sending him down. How it will end.”

Eve shrugged as she explained, “He will never stop trying to break this cycle. He’ll never understand that we must preserve the knot. That his Annalise must die. So all the others can live.”

She stared at her son as she opened the leather planner, “The beginning and the end.”

Jonas walked out of the cave and through the woods. He heard sobbing and screaming he only knew as Annalise and ran towards it.

Charlotte walked to the bunker and called Ulrich. She asked him to call her back as she approached the door. She opened it up and walked inside. She stared at the chalk outline and started to investigate. When she knelt down, under a bench she found a penny with a red string around it as if like a necklace.

On the other side of town, Helge sat repeating to himself, “Tick tock. Tick tock.” He looked up and started to walk out of the house to try to stop it.

Bartosz exited Mary’s car. He sighed and looked towards the power plant. As his eyes scanned, he noticed a figure stumbling across the street. Normally he wouldn’t think anything of it, but it looked very familiar. The beating of his heart echoed in his ears when he realized just who it was. He jogged across the street and called, “Anna.”

Jonas was just about to interrupt the girl’s drinking when he heard Bartosz’s voice. The boy had been following her for a while, but he didn’t know how to approach her, so instead he just decided to watch her from afar. He slunked back into the shadows right out of sight of the two. His heart raced. He knew what was going to happen.

Annalise took another large drink of her mixed drink a very kind older man had given her. She smiled gently. It reminded her of the drinks she heard about back home. Fruit punch, Red Bull, vodka mixed in the right fashion still only seemed like fruit punch. He had given her a large bottle just with a few bucks and for “looking cute.” She drank as she made her way to the bus stop out of Winden. The burning sensation masking her brain being torn apart at the seams.

Bartosz easily caught up to the girl and grabbed her arm, “Anna! What are you doing, idiot?!” He kept a firm grip on her. Frustration rose into his chest. Where did she even get what she was drinking? Where was she going? Shouldn’t she be with Martha or nearly anyone else? She never went anywhere alone.

“I’m going home,” she answered simply, “Now please let me go.” She tried to jerk away.

He shook his head, “What are you drinking? Your place is that way.” He gestured with his shoulder towards where she lived with Ulrich and Hannah. He stared at the girl floundering to get away from him. His heart started to ache. More than that. He was angry. Furious even. Filled to the brim with an anger he had never known before.

Annalise started to cry as she tried to tear away from his grip, “Let me go!” She started to yell at him. Tears built up pressure behind her eyes as she remembered back to what had driven her to this point. How she wished for the rain to finally start in this God abandoned town. The wind howled as it shook the trees awake. At least, she reasoned, that was on her side. “Let me go Bartosz,” she repeated screaming at him with the full force she wanted to let out at everyone.

Jonas felt powerless. Here he was watching a mirror of what happened that night. His throat dried up. His heart started to ache. It was being tugged in so many directions. Jonas wanted to interrupt. He wanted to run, yet his feet stayed firmly rooted in the ground. It was as if the Knot wanted him to see this. It was its punishment for him kissing Martha that night. It was punishment for taking Lise for granted.

“No!” Bartosz roared back at her. He pulled her into his arms. His heart raced. He just wanted her to calm down. He knew instantly then that he loved her. All this time was just him lying to himself trying to keep the status quo and hoping things were going to go back to the way they were before his mother died. He wrapped himself around her. Was she always this tiny, he wondered. It was his first time ever fully embracing her. He had to bend down a bit to bury his face into her shoulder and neck. Oh, how it felt nice to finally hold someone, to hold her, in his arms, but he couldn’t dwell on his own happiness. He needed her to be happy. He thirst to see her smiling and laughing again. That happy radiant infectious smile that he loved seeing across her face.

Annalise beat her fists into the taller boy as the tears fell from her eyes. She continued to scream at him to let her go. The girl struggled as he just held her in an embrace. Her breathing was off. The thumping his chest made as she hit it reminded her how her heart felt when they saw the boy just drop in the bunker like that. She just wanted to go back home but she could never tell him that. Annalise hated every moment of this. She hated every moment of Winden. She just wanted to go back in time to right before they saw that moment and never see that poor dead boy just drop...Before she agreed to help that short haired Martha... Before she was trapped with that dead boy...

Bartosz pulled his face away. There was something he had heard Magnus mention before while Mikkel was throwing a tantrum. He needed to distract her from her emotions so that Annalise could actually TELL him what was going on. He sighed knowing he was going to hate himself later for indulging the part of him that loved her without ever telling her that, but he had to do it. With one hand, he trapped her wrists from continuing to beat into his chest. The other he used to grab the back of her head. Bartosz pressed his lips against hers.

The girl froze. His lips were so desperate. She could feel his yearning for her to stop and think about what she was doing. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed herself to kiss him back. There was a saltiness to it, yet tender and warm. Soon, she felt her wrists freed from his grip. She just gently rested her hands against the boy’s chest as his now unoccupied hand found a new home at the small of her back. Annalise’s heart fluttered. She felt as if drunk, longing for love, and finally acquired a bit of that feeling of being wanted.

Bartosz pulled her closer. He clinged to her as they slowly deepened their kiss. They both wanted this for such a long time. He sighed happily as her arms slowly started to snake their way off his chest to around his neck to play with his long hair. He let one of his arms slide under her so that he could scoop her up while they were still making out. He lifted her up into his arms and walked over to the bus stop so that the side of it could be used to stabilize the couple. He pressed her back against it as he could feel the both of them getting weak from the lack of breath and their hearts racing quickly.

The hidden boy’s heart shattered as it fell to the cement. He wondered how much of this was like that night and how much wasn’t. Jonas could see how much heat and longing was between the other two teenagers. They were so desperate for the other one to be close to them that the rest of the world didn’t exist. He didn’t exist. He wasn’t supposed to exist.

Bartosz eventually pulled away gently. Annalise reached up and pressed his forehead against hers. Her eyes closed as the last of her tears drained from her. He calmed himself and asked, “Anna, what’s wrong?” He gently brushed her wild hair from her face, unstuck some strands stuck around her eyes from her tears, and put it in a place not easy to get stuck there again.

Her face contorted in agony. The fountain of sorrow slowly turned back on. Something about this moment felt as if something similar had happened before. It felt as if she, him, the moment, it was all supposed to happen. “I,” she started. She took a breath and then confessed, “I am so scared. What does this all mean Bartosz? There is so much going on in the world now and I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m… I don’t know what role we play in this...” She choked on her words and started to cough.

Bartosz cooed at her and held her close once more, “I know. I know. It’s okay.” He swallowed hard and rocked with her. Bartosz gently kissed her head every so often as he just kept her safe within his arms. The boy just repeated that it was okay, that he was there with her, he wasn’t going to leave her, that everything was going to be okay until he could feel her body start to go limp. She must have been exhausted, he figured. He lifted her up and tried to figure out how to manage her with a bike. In the end, he called his father to come pick them up. He took off the jacket his mother had gifted him and put it on the girl as they waited.

Jonas turned finally unstuck from the Knot. He tracked his way back to where he knew he had to be, with this world’s Martha and to try and fix this world so that his could be fixed and he could go back home to his Lise. Be in her arms once more where she clung to him like that. Where she loved him, when she loved him. Not seeing some stranger with her face loving the boy that shared the same face as his best friend back home.

Martha walked over to Kilian’s trailer and knocked on the door. She stood back for him and spoke, “Hey.”

He responded back, “Hey.”

Martha stood there staring at him.

“What are you doing here,” He asked the girl.

Martha shook her head, “You weren’t at the dorm. I was worried.”

Kilian grabbed her arm and walked with her away from the trailer, “They kicked me out. Your father called. He wanted to know if I slipped you guys something.”

“Did you,” She asked.

“Fuck no,” He gowled, “No, I didn’t.” He shook his head, “But sure, none of you can get it out of your system. I haven’t lived here for two years, but I’m still the trailer park trash everyone points fingers at.” When Martha didn’t respond, he sneered, “I knew it.”

“What did you know,” she asked him.

He shook his head and said, “That you were only with me to rile up your parents. You didn’t give a shit about me or Erik.”

Martha scoffed at him. If she really wanted to do that, she would have just dated Annalise. She turned her head back towards him. She wasn’t really able to fight back though. Maybe she really was and he was just the safe option.

Kilian turned away and told her, “You’d better go.”

Martha fought back her tears as she whispered, “Okay.”

The boy turned and walked away leaving her alone in the park with Jonas there watching.

“About Regina…” Hannah spoke to Aleksader, “I’m sorry. It must be very difficult for you.” She paused, then asked, “How are you? Bartosz?”

Aleksander nodded and told her, “We’re managing.” He turned towards the pictures on his desk and stared at them.

“I…” Hannah spoke, “I hear that Annalise and Bartosz really like each other.”

Aleksander nodded, “My son speaks of her pretty often. Please, tell me why you are here.”

Hannah shifted awkwardly and got to the point, “I’d like to propose a deal.”

“A deal,” he questioned the woman.

Hannah looked down at her purse, “I have something that belongs to you. I’d like to return it.” She carefully pulled out the bag from 1986 and slid it towards him. As his face changed she asked, “Do you recognize it? Don’t worry. The contents are in a safe place.”

Aleksander asked quivering, “What do you want? Do you want money?”

“I don’t want money,” Hannah told him, “I want you to destroy Charlotte. I want her to lose everything. Everything.”

Charlotte drove to the church meeting her husband who was talking to a man inside. When she walked in, Peter stood up.

“Charlotte,” Peter asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Thank you,” The man told the pastor before leaving.

Charlotte slowly approached the man and said, “I tried to get a hold of you. I went to the bunker. Why aren’t you home with Franziska?”

Peter shrugged, “I…”

Charlotte shrugged it off and asked, “Last night, where was Helge? You said you ate dinner with him. Where was he afterwards?”

“What is this,” Peter asked her.

“In 1987, when you came to Winden, did your father still live in the cabin,” she asked the man.

Peter shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

“Did he or didn’t he,” Charlotte pressed on.

“No,” Peter shook his head, “After the accident he was moved into the nursing home.”

“And the summer before, in 86,” she asked.

Peter nodded, “I think so. Why do you want to know?”

“Did he use the bunker for anything?”

“Charlotte,” Peter approached her, “What do you want from me?”

She pulled the penny from out her jacket and showed it to him, “This is Helge’s. I found it in the bunker.”

Peter huffed and shook his head, “That...That can’t be. He was with us all night.” He answered his phone to hear that Helge had left the nursing home. He turned to her and said, “Helge’s at the police station and he made a confession.”

Annalise started to stir as she felt the atmosphere around her change. She was warm and cuddling something soft. This was very pleasant compared to last night and how horribly she slept then. She hummed happily, slowly waking up. She could hear a man and a very familiar boy’s voice talking.

Aleksander looked at his son in the rear view mirror with the girl snuggled up to him. “So,” he started to ask, “Is this the girl?”

Bartosz’s face flushed, “What do you mean?” He asked nervously. He started to awkwardly chuckle, “I mean, it’s just Annalise, Dad. You two have met before.”

“Have I,” Aleksander teased, “I don’t remember you telling me you liked her this much.” He chuckled, “You know I was around your age when I met your mom right?”

Bartosz thanked God that Annalise was asleep and couldn’t hear his father embarrassing him, or so he thought. Bartosz groaned, “You don’t have to embarrass me in front of her do you?”

Aleksander chuckled, “I thought she was asleep.”

“Still,” Bartosz complained. He looked over to the girl cuddled up to his side once more. A small smile graced his lips as he moved some of the hair from her face again. He couldn’t complain too much. The thought of her being like this with any other person ate him inside. So somewhere deep inside he knew that if they were together forever, that he would be happy.

When Peter and Charlotte reached the station, Peter asked his father, “Dad, why are you saying this? It makes no sense at all.” He turned to Woller and explained, “He didn’t leave the house. I was with him all night. Elisabeth was there too.”

Helge spoke again, “I killed the boy.”

“Dad,” Peter scolded the man, “Cut it out!”

Charlotte spoke up, “His things… The walkman. The clothes. Those are Mads Nielsen’s things, the boy who disappeared in 1986. Do you remember that?”

“I killed him,” Helge repeated.

“Who,” she asked, “Mads?”

Ulrich stormed into the station. He turned towards Helge and asked, “Where did you get his stuff?” The man rushed forward and grabbed onto the man despite Peter’s yells in protest, “What did you do to Mads?” He yelled at the older man, “What did you do to him?!”

“You’re alive,” Helge asked, staring at the man.

“What,” Ulrich asked.

Helge spoke, “It was you.”

“What was me,” Ulrich asked, pulling the man out of the chair as the other officers tried to pull Ulrich away from Helge.

“It was him,” Helge spoke, “It was him.” Helge held up the penny in his own things.

Charlotte looked down and unfolded her napkin to see the penny she had was still in her possession. It was the same coin, yet… two places at the same time.

Martha walked in the woods alone. She was determined to try and get to Annalise to talk to her when she heard a rustle in the bushes. When Jonas revealed himself from the shadows, she asked him, “What is this? Are you following me? Why won’t you tell me how we know each other? How you know Annalise?”

“Actually,” Jonas spoke, “You and I, we’ve always known each other.” When Martha swallowed, Jonas approached her, “When Magnus knocked your tooth out in kindergarten… I was there. When Mikkel put spiders in your shoes while camping in the yard… On the third grade class trip… when you were so homesick that Katharina had to come get you. You met Annalise and she told you how your father scared her because she didn’t know German really well to cheer you up on your first day back to school.” He whispered, “Where I come from, you and I share a past.”

Martha shook her head, “You’re nuts.” She turned to walk away from him.

“Last night,” Jonas told her, “in the forest. You saw yourself.” He shook his head and said, “I know how completely insane this all sounds. For the longest time, I too thought it was all totally crazy. That I was crazy.”

“Who are you really,” She asked the boy.

“I can show you,” Jonas explained, “How it’s all connected.”

It wasn’t long before they reached the Tiedemann abode. Annalise knew it was wrong to still pretend she was fully asleep, but when Bartosz scooped her up into his arms to carry her, she didn’t want it to stop. She listened as he mumbled to himself.

Bartosz debated on where to put Annalise, “I could put her in the guest bedroom. But that’s halfway across the house and what if she needs me? I am not going to put her on the couch. I know that much. But… My bedroom… would she be weirded out by that? Would-” He felt her move. He nearly dropped her from surprise. He panicked pulling her closer to him once more. He asked the girl, “Annalise?”

Annalise’s smile couldn’t contain itself any longer hearing his verbal debate. She let out a small giggle surprising the boy. She squealed as she felt herself drop for a moment before he grabbed her once again. The girl clung onto him. She turned to face him once more, “Yes?”

“How long have you been awake,” He asked, walking her into his room and gently placing her on his bed.

Annalise smiled and sat up. Still a little buzzed, she asked, “Do you really want to know?” She looked around his room. It was different. His room was full of dark colors and scattered books, diagrams, and hastily scribbled notes. There was an attached bathroom that seemed nice and light though. Yet still it felt like an empty shell. She yawned and turned to him as he helped remove his coat from her. Her voice strained as she looked at him beggingly, “Stay?”

In the other world, Jonas placed the ball into a large bowl. He walked to the control panel and started up the machine. He stared intently at it as the liquid slowly arose up and formed a ball. Sadly it was not enough energy to hold it.

After it dropped, the group converged on the bowl to investigate. Sensing someone was missing, Franziska looked up and around. After accounting for who was there, she asked, “Where’s Martha?”

The group all looked up to find the girl missing. Jonas, then, knew, she had lied to him.

Martha rushed back to her room and placed a new ball into her sphere and set it to go to her new objective.

The group walked into the bedroom just as she disappeared. Jonas turned to Bartosz and glared at him as if to say, ‘I told you.’

In the other world, Bartosz blushed and took a step back. He blinked wondering if he really heard what she had asked. He dropped the coat in his hands. He shook his head and bent down to pick it up. While he wasn’t staring at her, he asked, “Stay?” He slowly looked up to try and gauge her reaction.

Annalise nodded, “Please?” She grabbed one of his hands and pulled him towards the bed.

Breathless, Bartosz struggled out, “Wait. Just…” He held up the coat once more and slid his hand away so that he could go and put up his coat. His heart raced. He tried to calm himself as his back was turned to her. The boy knew his father wouldn’t care so he couldn’t use that as an excuse. He was shaking with nervousness. He really wished his mom was here so that she could help him with this. Annalise’s small voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Bartosz,” Annalise asked. When he turned his head, she blushed and asked, “Can I have some water?”

Bartosz nodded quickly and rushed out of the room closing the door behind him.

Martha followed Jonas to the cave. Right before she walked into it, she got a text from Annalise and Bartosz. The one from Annalise was her asking if Martha was okay and that Kilian had texted her to tell her what had happened. The text from Bartosz consisted of, ‘Annalise is staying over. Help?’ She shook her head and stared at Jonas.

Jonas looked at her and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Martha nodded, “Yeah.” She hid her heart breaking from the boy and started to follow behind him into the cave.

Helge stared at his hands as he sat in a cell.

Martha and Jonas continued through the caves as Charlotte turned away from Ulrich sitting sadly at his desk staring at the picture of him and Hannah.

Hannah walked into her and Ulrich’s bedroom to see the bed perfectly made up and her husband not there. She turned and walked out the door just as Jonas and Martha approached their door.

Eve looked down in her hand to look at Jonas’s Annalise’s necklace and then looked up at the pictures of Adam and Eve.

Bartosz walked to the kitchen and grabbed her bottled water. On his way back, he saw his dad.

Aleksander could read Bartosz’s hesitation all over his face. He chuckled and sat on one of the bar stools. “Something the matter,” He teased.

Bartosz jumped, “No. No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s good.” He blushed and tried to stand up taller to seem more confident. He ran his fingers through his hair, “What would be wrong? Everything is perfect.”

Aleksander chuckled, “Maybe the girl in your room?”

“What,” Bartosz unconvincingly laughed, “Annalise?” He shook his head with a giant uneasy smile, “No. There’s nothing…”

Aleksander laughed, “She woke up, didn’t she?”

“She wants me to stay,” Bartosz admitted, “I mean it’s not like it's the first time with someone, but like...What if she doesn’t just want to sleep? In my bed?”

Aleksander leaned on his elbow with his chin in his hand. He chuckled, “Well, it's just a question of if you’d want to, yeah?”

Bartosz’s face glowed, “It’s not just that simple. She’s… I…”

“So you don’t want to,” Aleksander asked.

Bartosz shook his head, “No! I mean… I’d like to, but she’s drunk…” He looked towards his room.

Aleksander nodded, "Well, have you tried talking to her about this?"

Bartosz blushed, "What? No. I… I mean I guess I can. I should."

Aleksander stood up and patted his son's shoulder, "I'm heading to sleep. Stay safe. Pleasant dreams." He walked back to his bedroom.

In the other world, Martha walked through the halls of the decrypted nuclear power plant on September 20, 2053, she walked into a room to be greeted by a gravely voice, “Did you give it to him?”

When Martha nodded, Adam turned to tell her, “I was always too gullible.” He turned back to look at the machine and said, “You did the right thing.”

Back in Eve’s World, Bartosz walked back into his bedroom to find Annalise not there. He heard the shower running and sighed in contentment. He blinked as he realized she didn't have a change of clothes. He knocked on the door and called, "do you need some clean clothes?"

The water stopped and he heard walking towards the door. She peeked her head out the door, "I'm sorry. I stole some of your pyjamas." She walked away to go grab it. Bartosz blushed seeing her naked form from the display of mirrors. He turned away with closed eyes. When she came back, she showed him what she stole. They were his soft plaid flannel ones that he loved. Not that he would admit that he loved them to his friends due to them being part of a matching set for his family and normally worn for celebrating holidays.

"Oh," Bartosz nodded, "okay." He turned away and told her, “You can let me know if you need anything else.”

The girl was very quick to walk out. His pants were extremely baggy on her due to his height over her. She was still buttoning the shirt and seemed to be having a bit of issues. She grumbled at the shirt, “Stupid ass buttons.” Eventually, she got it and smiled up at him, “Thank you.” Her face became a little bit more serious, “You know, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to… I just thought… You know…”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” He said hurriedly. His breath caught in his throat trying to explain, “I just didn’t want to make you feel like I’m taking advantage…”

Annalise smiled gently. She closed the distance between them and kissed him gently. She pulled away and shook her head, “You wouldn’t be. I’ve been wanting this.” She pressed her lips against his once more.

Bartosz smiled against the kiss then kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her once again. He scooped her up once again. The boy walked them to his bed and gently sat down keeping her in his lap for the moment.

Annalise giggled against his lips and pulled them down so that they were laying down staring at each other. She smiled and asked, “Do you think that people are meant to meet?”

Bartosz nodded, “Yeah. I mean statistically it would be impossible for us to meet any other way.” He pulled them towards the head of the bed when he saw her yawn again. He chuckled, “You’re exhausted. Please allow yourself sleep. I will be right here in the morning.”

She yawned and nodded, “Promise?”

“Promise,” he kissed her head and tucked her in before going to get changed and showered himself.

Jonas walked with Martha into her 2052. He stumbled out seeing it so bright and more like a desert.

“What is this place,” Martha asked the boy as they walked through the blistering heat under the blazing sun. They looked around to see the debris of trees before just seeing a sandpit, “Where are we?” She turned to him and asked, “Did you do this? How did you do that?”

Jonas simply told the girl, “She told me to bring you here. That she’d explain it to you.”

“Who,” She asked. They turned to see a lone woman walking towards them. Martha asked, “Who is that?”

The woman stopped in front of them and took off her wraps to reveal herself, “Welcome to the future.”

#dark fanfic #dark netflix #dark fanfiction #yesterday once more fanfic #(they long to be) close to you fanfic #close to you fanfic #dark (netflix)#dark (2017)#dark (netflix) fanfic #dark (2017) fanfic #fix it fic

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