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pearlsinmyhair · 2 years ago

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༄breath of venus༄

chapter eight • why me? / why you?

summary: venus’s warnings aren’t heeded, and now someone pays. quaritch and wainfleet address the elephant in the room. venus has to make a terrible decision, and she is not sure if it was right after it is made.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: angst. cursing/mature language. cannon typical violence. mental distress. distressing imagery. dead animal. animals eating animal. death.

authors note: i wrote this with rain and thunder ambiance, and i’d recommend listening to it because it rains this who chapter. anyway, hello, this is the chapter that was part of the ‘chapter snippet’. if you don’t like descriptions of violence and death, especially animal death, you have been warned. we also have a good amount of switching perspectives in this one.

glossary: there is na’vi in this chapter, but it’ll be translated at the end so that the twist isn’t spoiled.

“a burnt child loves the fire.”

- oscar wilde, a picture of dorian gray

Rain poured over the jungle, pelting the trees and it’s inhabitants with sheets of merciless droplets. It was the wet season in this part of pandora, a sign that spring was approaching.

Venus had always enjoyed the rain, had always found comfort in the roaring thunder. Yet she found much less joy in it now that she did not have a place to hide from the stinging drops.

She and the recoms had stopped, unable to fly in the rain safety. It was a gamble where they landed, and luckily they had found a cave tucked up and away near where they settled.

The ikran had disappeared to find a nesting place for themselves as the squad crammed into the cave. Thankfully, it was spacious enough to fit all of them, and blissfully dry. The glowing fungi characteristic of this region lined the walls in swirls, and Venus traced over them with her finger, wondering what secrets they held.

“We should scout the area before we rest. We’re nearing the Tawkami clan, and we should make sure that there’s no hostiles near.” she overheard Quaritch explain to the group.

“You shouldn’t go out in the rain. It’ll distort your hearing, and there’s high chance that there’s predators out hunting.” she called, standing from where she was sitting with her bow.

After a long discussion following the night of their first real meal, Quaritch decided that Venus would be allowed to keep the bow, on the condition that someone else hold her knife and arrows. She had reluctantly agreed, and Ja had taken charge of her other weapons.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re not getting killed in our sleep, and we will if we don’t get our barings. Wainfleet, Mansk, Zdog, you’re with me.” Quaritch replied, and his chosen recombinants stood, readying themselves to walk into the rain once more.

Venus’s stomach seemed to turn. She took a deep breath and adjusted her tone.

“Quaritch, you will be blind and deaf out there. You’re fair game for any hunting animal.” she tried, taking a step closer to the Colonel.

To his credit, he didn’t entirely dismiss her. He at least considered it for a few seconds before answering. “We’re sitting ducks in this cave no matter what. We can at least understand what we’re facing if we take a look.”

She grit her teeth and turned, heading back to her spot to distract herself with her bow.

“Colonel to Fearless, you copy?” crackled a voice over her comm.

She turned to see Quaritch with his thumb to his own throat piece, looking at her expectantly.

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to her neck. “Fearless to Colonel, I copy.”

He inclined his head to her. “If we get into trouble, or something happens, we’ll call it in. It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.” he said before turning to his group.

They funneled out of the cave one by one, Mansk last. He looked at her over his shoulder, and she nodded.

Be safe.

His ear flicked, and he dipped his chin.

I will.

Lopez called her over to where he and Prager had somehow procured playing cards, and she turned away from the cave entrance to join them.

Fearless was her new callsign, gifted to her after the entirety of Deja-Blue scoffed at her original one. She had a sneaking suspicion that half of them couldn’t pronounce ‘Palalukan’ anyway, so she had taken on the name with indifference.

Ja and Lopez had the best grasp of the Na’vi language, so they occasionally called her lu’txo, without fear. But the rest stayed with english, especially after Wainfleet’s failed attempt at pronouncing the Na’vi version.

She watched Prager for a round of cards, playing a game they called ‘Bullshit’. She and the marine had reached a kind of truce when he had cut and shared a fruit with her, a silent peace offering and apology after he had insulted her. Zdog had told her that he had a sister, not far from her age. She was beginning to realize that she served as an unwelcome reminder of what he’d lost when he signed his soul to the RDA.

It took a few minutes of questions and tentative moves, but Venus eventually got the hang of the game. It helped that Lopez was terrible at bluffing, and Ja’s ear twitched when he lied. But Prager was like a stone, never showing any kind of tick as to the accuracy of his moves. She eventually won, and Lopez was stuck with first watch for having the most cards left.

They were unrolling their packs and passing out stored portions of the yerik meat when they heard a gunshot.

Then another.

Then a whole flurry.

Ja and Prager reached for their guns and checked the chambers as Wainfleet’s voice crackled over the speaker to their throat comms.

“I-nE——come i——-help——-than————-“

It was uneven and glitchy, broken by the sound of wind and thunder and branches braking, the gunfire ever present.

Venus made eye contact with Ja, and he reached into his pack and threw her arrows to her without hesitation.

She grabbed her bow and tucked her arrows with them, turning to nod to Prager and Lopez as they waited at the entrance of the cave for her.

“Venus, wait.”

She turned to see Ja with her knife outstretched, holding it by the blade as he extended it to her.

She took the knife and tucked it into its sheath at her side, before bounding off into the pouring rain with the marines.

༄

Quaritch couldn’t see. Not in front of him, not behind him. Where there wasn’t leaves and tress there was rain, running down his forehead and into his eyes.

But even through the sound of roaring thunder he could still hear.

Its hiss followed him, close at his heels as it snapped its jaws at his tail. He was barely out of its reach now, but he could feel it’s hot breath against his back.

By some mercy of Eywa or God or whatever deity was keeping him alive, it slipped in the mud and stumbled, giving him just enough time to dive under tree roots and turn his gun to the beast.

The thanator roared in frustration as the bullets pelted its body, but they glanced off of its armored skin like water. It dove its face down into the roots, closing its jaws around his assault rifle and throwing it away.

“Fucking hell-“ Quaritch muttered as he scrambled to the side, successfully escaping the animal for a second. He peeled himself from the roots and booked it to a nearby clearing.

He grabbed his knife and turned, running over the footage from the downed amp suit in his head.

Knife to the gut, hard. Get into its insides and twist.

Easier said than done when he’d have to get close enough.

He was alone now; he had shoved Zdog up a tree when they first found the claw marks along the bark of another, a territorial marker.

Wainfleet he had pushed into a waterfall, as he wouldn’t just fucking listen for once when it really counted. And Mansk had disappeared, sent to find the rest of the squad for back up incase things went south.

And shit had it gone to hell.

The thanator leapt into the clearing, snarling and spitting as it sized him up. It was huge, over four times his size with a yellow strip running down his side.

‘It denotes males, but it’s not commonly bright. I’ve only ever seen one that was vivid.’ he remembered Venus saying.

Quaritch hissed back, cornered. He raised his knife, and the thanator roared. It had clearly interacted with Na’vi before, judging by the way it, well he, calculated his moves. There was something like recognition in the animal’s eyes, but Quaritch dismissed it for a trick of the rain.

He was forgetting something, something that was important. His skin prickled with fear as he struggled to recall what it was.

The moment he was distracted, the thanator swiped at him. Its claws sank into the meat of his bicep, raking down to his hand to bat the knife away. It jumped back just as quickly, its eyes bright with triumph as Quaritch was disarmed.

Through the pain, realization dawned on him as the thanator opened its jaws, revealing rows of black teeth. Familiar and alien, dark and beautiful.

He raised his fist as his death screamed and leapt, opening its mouth wide to close around his throat.

He reeled his fist back, hissing as the beast’s breath fanned across his face.

The soft sound of cutting air. Then a thwip and thud as an arrow buried itself into the side of the thanator’s face, impaling it through its main set of eyes.

It screamed in pain, stumbling forward as it swiped at its face, struggling to remove the arrow. Its legs buckled, and it sank to the ground with a whimper, still breathing.

Quaritch watched it for a moment, stunned as the rain pelted him and its body. He looked at the fletching at the end of the arrow, and he watched as the teal and red shifted to yellow and black.

He slowly turned, looking through the rain to find the she-demon herself, one leg propped against a fallen tree with her bow raised. She hissed at him, her own canines carrying the same promise of death that the thanator’s had.

Neytiri.

Then he blinked, and the woman became a girl.

Her war paint disappeared, becoming soft stripes that he had become familiar with. Her braided hair softened to long wet strands, sticking to her face like waves. Her expression shifted, becoming one of regret and shock as her eyes widened.

“Venus.”

༄

The world stood still around her. Her hand, raised to release the arrow that was now through Tamar’s skull, stayed at her cheek, hovering. Her mouth was dry, her lungs empty. She barely felt the rain anymore.

Someone was saying her name, and she met eyes with Quairtch.

His mouth formed the word again, so very disconnected from whatever she was right now.

Venus.

His voice was like a whisper through the sound of the rain. Blood ran down his skin, three deep claw marks from upper arm to palm marking him as dead.

And yet here she was, watching as her brother twitched on the ground and her father Quaritch stood alive.

Eywa, what have I done.

Her body moved as if it were a puppet, setting her bow against the fallen log and stepping over it. She did not look at the recombinants around her.

She watched as her brother’s eyes found her, stepping close with her knife in hand. He hissed, but then he saw her face. He exhaled shakily, trying to peice together what was going on.

Why she had chosen for him to die.

She rested a hand against his muzzle, stroking some of the mud that had smeared against it. He cooed softly, and she felt her eyes warm with hot tears, mixing with the cold rain as it dripping down her cheek.

“Oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan.” she whispered, her voice nearly drowned by a sudden clap of thunder.

The knife felt like it was burning in her hand, and she clenched it tighter in her fist as she brought it to one of Tamar’s opercula, preparing to slice down into his heart.

Something prodded at her shoulder, and she glanced to the side to find him extending his kuru to her. She glanced down to his eye once more, finding him staring at her.

It was practically law to all training na’vi to never, under any circumstances, bond with a dying animal. The body would follow the other’s failing heart and organs, and some had even died from the bond sucking them down and away.

I am my own, and my own is me, she reminded herself as she brought her braid over her shoulder. It was a meditation taught to youngsters when they first bonded, a reminder that though you are one with your mount, your feelings and emotions are your own, not theirs, and vice versa.

Of course, that meditation did not include bonding with a dying mount.

She inhaled deeply as she brought her kuru to Tamar’s, watching as the neural glands twisted around each other and tightened.

Her face burst with pain, and she had to grit her teeth to fight from making a sound. She felt the arrow, embedded in her eye, her head splitting with agony.

Not mine. Not my pain. she tried to remind herself.

But Tamar’s mind was like a raging rapid, tossing her own thoughts about like they were nothing. She was drowning in his mind.

sister pain hurt. s pain. sister

please ow venus venu s venus please

arrow eye hurts blood man. hurts pain

blood like you. sister please ow venus

venus. venus please arrow eye hurts blood.

man hurts pain blood like

you venus sister help

hurts

She tried to focus out onto the rain, or onto the whispering voices around her, but she was anchored in.

She reached forward and grabbed with her thoughts.

Hello, brother.

Clarity and calm and pain and hurt and betrayal.

But clarity all the same.

༄

Quaritch watched as Venus grimaced, her eyes screwed shut as she made her final communion with her dying brother.

That was what he had forgotten, he realized as his eyes dropped to the necklace of teeth around her neck. Her siblings. Tamar.

Venus’s chest heaved, but she tried to establish rhythm, anything to calm the dying animal under her hand.

“What the fuck happened…” whispered an all too familiar voice in his ear.

He turned to see Lyle, soaking wet from both the river he had pushed him in and the rain. But he showed no anger towards Quaritch. Instead, his eyes were locked on Venus’s shaking shoulders, then they glanced down to his bleeding arm.

His corporal’s eyes were wide, his ears flicked back. It was not common to see Lyle Wainfleet lose his cool, but it seemed that Venus’s distress and Quaritch’s injury did the trick.

Quaritch didn’t have the words, but Lyle knew all the same. He took a step towards Venus, but Miles grabbed a pocket of his vest, tugging him back.

“Let her be. She’s…mourning.” he said.

But mourning wasn’t clinging to something that was dying. He opened his mouth to say something when Venus’s body suddenly jerked violently and collapsed.

Wainfleet and Quaritch were on her in an instant, and Ja quickly jogged over as well. Quaritch sat himself at Venus’s right, where her hand still gripped her knife.

“Venus, you gotta let him go.” he tried, gently taking her head and pulling her back up. She grunted in response, though from pain or in response he didn’t know.

“He’s going to die, V. And he’ll take you down with him.” Lyle said from across them. He rested his hand over the one Venus had placed against Tamar’s cheek, and she jerked again, heaving. When she made a sound this time, Tamar mirrored it, entangled in the bond.

“Venus.” Quaritch whispered in her ear as he brought her head to his chest. “Let him go.”

Venus sobbed in response, and he watched as her tanhí flickered with each wavering heartbeat. He brushed the dripping hair from her face with one hand and reached for their connected kuru’s with the other.

“Miles.” came Lyle’s voice as he gripped Quaritch’s wrist. “You can’t. It could send them into shock.”

“He’s right, sir.” affirmed Ja, who had his hand on Venus’s pulse point at her throat as he tried to find something in his med pack. “They need to sever the bond themselves. There’s nothing we can do.”

Venus cried out again, and Quaritch felt desperation claw at his belly, fighting at his throat.

He reached around her and pulled her close, tucking her under his chin.

“Listen to me kid. This will not redeem you, it will not make you feel any less guilty. You made a decision and you followed through. But it’s done.” he whispered.

Venus whined, and Lyle’s hand tightened around hers.

“He wouldn’t want this. He wouldn’t want you to go down with him. I don’t want you to go down with him. So come back. We’re not done.” Quaritch murmured.

Venus’s body jerked in his arms, and she wheezed as Tamar’s chest stuttered and heaved. Lightning illuminated their shared expressions of pain, and thunder drowned out the simultaneous scream they let out.

Tamar’s ribs expanded once more, then a big gust escaped him as his tanhì faded completely.

Quaritch looked down to find Venus’s knife buried in the thanator’s chest, her hand slightly shaking. Their queue’s fell from one another.

“Oel ngati kameie, ma Tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi ireiyo. Ngari hu Eywa saleu tìrea.” she whispered, and she removed her hand from Tamar, pulling it from Lyle’s grip. She moved her body away from Quaritch and laid against her brother, pressing her cheek to his side.

When she finally opened her eyes to look at him, he wished suddenly that she had shot him instead.

Because here she was, body pressed against something she had called ‘brother’, dead and cooling. Her eyes, empty and dead and blank, staring at him with a look so recognizable that it was like a bolt of lightning from the sky had hit him.

He didn’t need to be a genius at recognizing emotions to understand it.

It should have been you.

Her tail curled around her as she turned away, pressing her forehead down and against the corpse.

“Colonel, we should head back. There’ll be scavengers soon when they smell the blood.” called Prager, who had been watching the forest around them.

Miles touched Venus’s back to get her up, and she flinched away.

“No.” was all she said as she stayed kneeling, face to black skin.

“Venus, he’s gone. There is nothing for you to do now. I’m not letting you die here because you want to hug a corpse.” he said, irritation masking desperation in his tone.

She turned to look at him again, eyes full of rage and contempt and regret, and he wished again that she would look away.

“What is it you always say? ‘When one life ends, another begins’?” he tried, but Venus didn’t budge.

He sighed as he stood, gesturing for Ja and Prager to come over.

༄

Night had fallen, and they were still here.

Quaritch had decided to stay with Venus and keep watch while she stood vigil, allowing the others to go back to camp and rest. The plan was that it’d be only him, but Lyle had stayed as well.

They were camped on the lower branches of a nearby tree, rifles loaded and held at the ready incase anyone or anything decided to test Venus. Nothing had come. But they both knew that the scent of the dead body in the clearing below would be like a beacon, its flesh a blessing to any hungry creature.

“What are we going to do, Miles.” Lyle whispered, and Quairtch turned his head to him. His corporal rubbed his fingers against his brow, then his temple. “She doesn’t talk, not really. She sits and flies and stews with god knows what in her mind, and then something happens and she cracks. And for an instant it’s like you see her, through the wall and the shell. But it’s gone in an instant, and suddenly she’s laughing and coexisting. But it’s not her.”

“Remind you of someone?” Quaritch asked, and that partially broke Lyle out of his somber attitude. He chuckled, but the wrinkle between his brow didn’t smooth. “I guess you’re right. We deserve each other in that way.”

Miles relaxed slightly, though apprehension still kept his eyes on the tree line, searching and listening. “So what do you suggest, family therapy?”

Lyle’s tail whacked his back. “No, asshole. You’d hate therapy anyway.”

“And what makes you say that?” Miles asked, turning his head to raise his eyebrow at him.

“Well for one, you’d think you’re above it.” Lyle cleared his throat. “‘Why in hell would Ardmore suggest this shit? I don’t need some science puke turning me into a fuckin’ pansy.’” he said in an atrocious mockery of Quaritch’s accent.

He shoved him, and Lyle gripped the branch to keep his balance. “Careful, Corporal.” he growled, but Lyle simply laughed dryly.

“Don’t pull rank on me now, Quar. We’re in a tree talking about our problems while our kid sits in a field and mourns her dead thanator brother who she killed so you could live.” he said, ears flicking back.

And somehow Miles’s mind ignored everything else in that sentence and zeroed in on one. “Our kid?”

Lyle’s expression dropped. “No, not ours. Shit. Yours. Sully’s.” he amended.

Miles sensed the edge of casual in that sentence, electing to save that little slip of the tongue for a later discussion.

“So what do we do?” he asked, and Lyle gave him a grateful look.

“I think… she’s spent a lot of time learning us, figuring us out. She’s shown us much more patience than we’re worth. And I think…it’s time for us to extend her the same courtesy.” he said, voice trailing as he spoke.

Miles’s eyebrows raised. “Well hello there, wordsmith. Didn’t know you’d be joining us today.” he said, and Lyle scoffed.

“Shut up, Miles. I know the Jarhead jokes get pretty intense, but i’m not a fucking idiot.” he murmured. His expression softened. “I’m serious, though. It’s about damn time we start understanding her. She knows us better than we think.”

Before Miles could respond, a twig snapped, and a sound like a hyena laugh emerged from the trees. Venus raised her head as a group of viperwolves stalked into the clearing.

There must have been at least ten of them, calling to one another and tittering, and they hissed at Venus when they realized she was there.

Quaritch and Wainfleet raised their rifles, aiming them at the viperwolves nearest to her. Quaritch vaguely remembered the laughter, the hiss, then one of them leaping with its claws outstretched.

He brushed off the memory right as Venus raised her hand, fingers curling down to a fist.

She turned her face to them, and he nodded.

They lowered their guns.

༄

Venus slowly turned her body to fully face the pack, allowing them to see her lack of weapon. They didn’t come to kill her, but they would if they perceived her as a threat.

She did not step away from Tamar’s body, even as a few of the younger nantang tried their luck at scaring her off. She knew better than to take their snaps and growls as a true threat.

It was the pack mother that made her nervous.

She was older, with scars running down her face and neck. Claw marks from rivals and prey alike. Venus would be nothing to her.

But she did not move. She simply watched Venus with a curious gaze, calling to her with a voice that was usually used for young.

She sensed her grief, knew her despair. The weight of her attention felt heavy on Venus.

Please, I am grieving.

The nantang dipped her head.

My children are hungry.

Who was she to deny them. Tamar was no more. The body behind her was empty of spirit. It was only flesh and blood.

And yet.

She clung to its claw, holding it as she did when they were young. When her hand found their paws while they slept in the sun in the safety of their mothers presence.

One of the young viperwolves whined, and she noticed how his ribs poked at his skin.

Her gaze shifted back to the pack mother, and she took a step closer to Venus.

Slowly, she unsheathed her knife and turned, slicing three of Tamar’s quills from his frill. The nantang hissed at the appearance of her blade, but the pack mother stood her ground silently.

Venus stood, walking a few paces to stand in front of the pack mother. She dipped her chin.

The pack descended on the corpse, tearing into it eagerly as she walked to meet Quaritch and Wainfleet as they descended the tree.

Wainfleet reached for her, but she ignored him, waking ahead and back to the cave.

When they entered it, she found the squad awake, staring at her with a kind of hesitant curiosity. She turned to Lopez, who sat near the entrance.

“I’ll take first watch.” she said, and he opened his mouth to protest.

She shook her head, and he gave up, retreating to his sleeping bag.

She caught the glance that Quaritch and Wainfleet shared as she went to stand guard, alone with her thoughts for a few hours.

She scaled a tree just outside of the shelter, climbing to a branch where she could easily see the tree tops. She listened for the calls of animals, or the distant cries of ikran.

Only silence greeted her as thunder rumbled in the distance, and the rain finally stopped.

She brought her knees to her chest and cried.

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translations:

Oel ngati kameie, ma Tsmukan - i see you, my brother.

Oel ngati kameie, ma Tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi ireiyo. Ngari hu Eywa saleu tìrea. - i see you, my brother, and thank you. your spirit goes with Eywa.

…yep.

taglist:

@xstarsmvxz @lisedanie @avatar4eva @xylianasblog @henhouse-horrors

#yep it’s angsty time #avatar the way of water #avatar #recombinant #avatar x oc #oc #recom lyle wainfleet #recom mansk #the way of water #jake sully #recom quaritch #breath of venus #venus sully #—botticelli blues ⋆｡˚#miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet #mansk #venus x mansk

36 notes · View notes

crystalflygeo · 2 years ago

Note

omg you get me yey ;w; I was honestly shocked we got nothing on her and li aaaaaaaaa have to really dig to get it, yes they are the cutest

I LOVE the corruption theory, angsty as it is just so beautifully tragic, ugh Soraya's lines are forever in my memory yes "black dust choke the heaves and a thousand rocks splintered" so true so true </3 and with the description of the AP set and Primordial Jade cutter it just makes SO MUCH SENSE!!!

I cry too lemme join you

also your tags are so real too cfgvhnkml it's why I'm not fond of the "Ningg is her reincarnation" theories (are those still a thing?) it both feels like it defeats the purpose of gods passing leadership to humans in a way and also bc well... it's kinda insulting for Zhongguang shippers me thinks ALSO OOF if you were too look for guili stuff but then remove Childe/Zc/Ttl tags over two thirds of the works disappear or so like... she's just the "dead wife/love interest" to make other characters insecure or bring angst to make Zl guilty or compare his current s/o STOOOOPPPPP it's interesting once or twice but I swear this is what her character is reduced to (that or people deadass shipped her with Havria to 'get her out of the way and force another gay ship I'm-)

anyway kinda random but I'm giddy I wanna share sorry feel free to ignore asdfxdcvgbjml I like to do my own lil story and headcanons of my teams/characters as I play genshin and back when sumeru was just released I once wrote Zhongli having a breakdown after the explosive result of a dendro/pyro/anemo reaction and it had to do with Guizhong and this whole theory I'm so mean I gave him PTSD </3 so yeah cw for that and some uncomfy imagery also some Zhongven if you squint at the end bc I am a raging zhongven shipper ehe

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

“Uh… everyone? There’s… more…” Yanfei called out. And surely enough another small horde of fungi creatures was floating and bouncing up to them.

“Do they never end?!” The blonde exclaimed shocked, reeling back.

Venti sighed “Even I find myself tired of them, time to unleash a little mayhem.” He put away his lyre and instead invoked his bow, nocking an arrow and pointing straight to the little creatures without a second to waste. He closed one eye, pulling back as the arrow began to glow with pure anemo, clothes and grass fluttering around him “Time for takeoff!” He grinned and shot.

The effect was instantaneous, wind gales stirring up as a vortex formed in the middle of the open field, pulling in leaves, dirt and everything in close proximity including of course the small mushroom creatures. The little things battered by the vicious winds, shaking in the air dizzyingly.

Yanfei smiled then and invoked her catalyst “Let’s do this” Scarlet seals surrounded her, floating like gems around her.

Lumine suddenly felt Zhongli tense at her side “Yanfei wait don’t-!”

“Wrath of the flame!”

Time had moved no swifter than a heartbeat when the swirl and burning elemental reactions collided and yet a hundred days had filled his mind. Paralyzed him.

Mortals had no idea how quickly fire can spread and consume.

Pyro roared to life and expanded with the wind, setting everything on fire in the large area and practically exploding. The flames engulfed grass, trees and all it touched, the air felt hot and suffocating all of the sudden.

Zhongli had moved a split second too late, invoking a jade shield around each one of them, the crystallized golden walls enduring the worst of the attack. Venti lowered his head and made a barrier with his arms, twin brains shaking wildly in the wind. Lumine closed her eyes and groaned. Yanfei fell back with a scream.

For what seemed like ages, the wind raged on, battering everything and covering it with a crimson glow until Venti willed the anemo away with a blast, enemies long gone.

Embers and ashes floated in the air, the entire area was left desolated: a charred tree trunk, burned grass and leaves, blackened dirt and a heavy silence.

Venti panted as he looked around at the scene with wide eyes. He heard Lumine scream “Yanfei!!” and turned to see her rush up to the other girl as she laid on the ground clutching her arm and whining.

Lumine inspects her arm, the sleeve utterly ruined as a blistering burn blooms “Hurts…” The half-adeptus hissed through her teeth. Lumine cursed under her breath, they had no healer and she was down to her last streaming oil. Pulling the flask from her bag she opened it and poured the cooling liquid, Yanfei shrieks and almost sobs at the clash in temperature but where healing showers move, scars appear.

“We have to go back to Gandharva ville!” Lumine screams almost hysterical, eyes wide and heart hammering with worry, her hands shaking as she helps Yanfei up, the lawyer leaning onto her for support as tears roll down her face, biting her lip at the pain. “I’m sure Tighnari will know what to do.”

Zhongli does not move, scales blooming like goosebumps around his arms and down his spine. Everything he sees is the raging fire. Embers, and ashes. Ashes, and dirt. Floating around him. Clogging his throat. Clouding his vision. Tears prickle at his eyes. A numb cold feeling creeps at his chest, extends to his limbs. Dirt, and dust. Dust, and blood. There’s blood in his hands, in his horns, in his tail, and he doesn’t- can’t-

“Zhongli?!”

“Lumine, go!” Venti says, a rare serious expression overtaking his soft features.

Plants are scorched and withered around him, dead. Dead flowers, with blue and white petals. A tremor shakes his body and there are echoes of caked dirt and viscera under his nails, his talons, suffocated beneath leather gloves. He wants them off. He wants the coat off. His scales bristle. He’s drowning, choking. Black dust, splintered rocks, a seething inferno, a city turned debris.

It was a trick, wasn’t it? Of his own mind. Unable to look past the turmoil and loss that was the Archon War. Unable to look at an explosion, at a blazing field, without seeing her face or hearing her voice.

Guizhong. Lovely, brilliant, Guizhong.

If Guizhong had still been alive, they could have shared the burden. Or perhaps she, too, would have eroded like Azhdaha. Or turned bitter like Osial. Like he will one day. Maybe it was a blessing he did not have to lock her away like the others.

But maybe she would have known how to stave it off. An unmatched intellect with ideas to change the world and resist the very course of nature.

Preposterous, he thinks. The course of nature led to death for all that were not him, for all that were near him, and not even Guizhong had been able to outsmart that.

Fire, and blood, and dust.

Soft hands that cradled his face, warm and gentle not unlike a glaze lily’s petals. Soft hands that tore at his flesh, at his neck, at his heart once they could no longer discern from friend or foe. Soft hands that strangled him as dust and fire suffocated him, as the stench of corruption clogged his nose and a jade blade clashed against his barrier, shattering it like-

“Whoa, hey there-”

Like glass, like-

“Zhongli, hey, look at me.”

He can’t, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t-

“Morax.”

Soft hands cover his own, and he gasps and blinks rapidly at his surroundings, disoriented.

Embers, and ashes.

Ashes... and dust.

“Look at me. Listen to my voice.”

His breath hitches, and a soft wind blows around him, the dark dots dissipate, the air smells clean, with a sweet note of cider.

“It’s okay. Listen to me, the war is over.”

His hands tremble, there’s blood in them.

“Breathe in, slowly, focus on me.”

He gulps and complies, feeling his fangs graze his tongue, when did they come out? His scales shiver but start to recede back into a mortal guise.

“Now breathe out, with me.”

He exhales, long and shuddering. He does it again two more times.

“Alright, good. Can you tell me what do you feel?”

It takes a few moments for his thoughts to form into words “… the wind.”

“Okay, and what do you see?”

The old dragon cranes his neck, Geo calling out to him “The Chasm” He says staring off at the jagged peaks in the distance.

“Good. Do you remember where you are?”

He breathes again, in and out. “Sumeru.”

“And who am I?”

He blinks again turning to the smaller man still cupping his hands, clad in a white and green attire, a couple centuries outdated but unmistakably Mondstatian. Dark hair turning teal down two braids and the most mesmerizing aqua eyes. Full of patience, full of understanding, wise and kind beyond belief.

“Barbatos…” He lowers his head “My apologies I… don’t know…”

“None of that” the younger god said, finally letting go but not moving an inch, his head tilted “I was at the war too. And I know you, Morax. I know what you've lost.”

Of course. Zhongli closed his eyes. Barbatos who survived the war just like him, and has to live with similar scars, his closest ally when everyone else perished. The only one who shares the memory.

“Thank you.”

Aineeeeeee you're a guili shipper/enthusiast??? bc I am SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THEM ;w;

khGFCXCVHJUHGFDCVBNJM PLS they're so angsty and i just??? eat it up????? BUT YES I HAVE A VERY SOFT SPOT FOR GUILI!!! you have no clue how excited I was to see the lantern rite cutscene because we finally had a face for guizhong.

ofc because of said cutscene, i have now opened my heart to guiping but you know what??? GUIZHONG HAS TWO HANDS, SHE CAN GET EM BOTH HAHAHAHAHA

#I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG HAHAHA #also me blatantly sharing my writing zxdcfvbhnkl I am just so passionate about them and about Zhongli pls #I LOVE WRITTING ANGST I LOVE WRITTING ZHONGLI WITH A BURNING PASSION #I'm cry geo archon fills me with feels #again so sorry I just spammed you like this yeah #imma go now #aine friend #crys answers

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kylehyde · 4 years ago

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As far as I’m concerned Mia has ALREADY redeemed herself. Several times in RE7 she sacrifices her own life to save Ethan. First she sends that message attempting to keep him away. She was willing to die in Dulvey to keep Eveline contained. THATS 3 YEARS OF TORTURE, BRAIN FOG, STARVATION (unless you wanna eat people) She knew the risks and while what happened to the Bakers is somewhat her fault, LUCAS still made it actively worse by willingly working with Connections. Eveline kept Mia quite literally docile (brain fungus remember?) and bringing Ethan into the family was an attempt to keep Mia around too, that’s how much Mia loves Ethan and Eveline knew it! The second time is after being cured, she forced herself to remember her crimes and acknowledge it, and then let Eveline repossess her so Ethan could get away (and find Eveline to end it) Mia knew she might die once the host organism got destroyed and she STILL did it! This woman loves that man so much I cannot believe you people would slander her this way. And Mia is still being punished for things: this woman had to likely put up with constant tests, she’s on SEVERAL medications, maybe for life, I can’t even imagine the pregnancy stress worrying you’re carrying a mold baby monstrosity,,, AND THEYRE UNDER LIKE HOUSE ARREST BY BSAA. That doesn’t sound like she got off scott free at ALL. But just bc she’s happy being with Ethan that makes you mad, ok then lmao

As for RE Village, honestly she was probably gonna tell Ethan the truth at some point, she kept letting on about it, but before she got the chance (in a flashback we saw in the game) Ethan gets a phonecall from work and interrupts the moment. I think around this time she got switched with Miranda. However, Mia was NOT in contact with her former employer, the BSAA put them in Europe AFTER they interrogated Mia. IT WAS ALL THEIR INTENTION. She’s not secretly working with Miranda of her own will. She had her husband and now her daughter’s life held above her head, SHE COULDN’T do anything. And even if Mia told him he truth, Ethan would still love her, I’m absolutely certain of this. The minute he learned she was alive, he apologized for NOTHING and still said he loved her. ETHAN LOVES MIA, he LOVES ROSE. Fuck y’all

#for real tho both Ethan and Mia were terrorized by a child lmao #or more a BOW that looked like a child. anyway imagery #THE BRAVERY they expressed by having a child after that despite the trauma is a showcase of their love!

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puredramione · 4 years ago

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My 2020 Reading List - Dramione

This year, I’ve read way more dramione than I’ve ever read, and I’ve been reading it for 7 years now. I even read things, tropes, I had never bothered with before. 2020 may not have been a kind year, but in the dramione community it has been a wonderful year of reading for me. Please be aware I may spoil some plot lines to dramione fanfictions you haven’t read yet. I have tried not to as best as I can. But anyway below is 20 fics I’ve read this year that have been there for me when I needed them. No particular order. Just a lot of love for these fics.

Wait and Hope - by @mightbewriting - memory loss is one of my favourite tropes but this story. I have never cried over a couch before. But this story. From the moment she first awakes in St Mungo’s to that beautiful ending, I was hooked. I loved how the story left me with not really a care about whether or not Hermione got her memories back. Those bloody text messages 💔 a journey I’ll never forget.

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega - MrsRen - my first time reading anything omegaverse. It still isn’t my favourite trope. I much prefer Veela for some reason 🤷🏻‍♀️ but overall it was a good story, just not my thing.

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach - I actually gave up on this story the first time I read it. Unsure as to why because the story as a whole is just amazing. Baking and dramione? Yes please! Also dealing with their psychological trauma after the war? Heck yes! The relationship in this story develops at a lovely pace. There were moments I was on edge, others I was smiling ear to ear whilst reading this. Definitely one of my favourites now.

In Search Of Sunrise - @indreamsink - actually just reread this and I still get that warm feeling in my chest. So turns out my break up hasn’t made me lose the ability to enjoy dramione falling for each other. Anyway, the story was so heartwarming, like if I were to describe it as anything I would describe it as a hug. The best non-date fic there is.

Sex and Occlumency - Graendoll - this was the start of my slippery slope into reading smut stories. Like I had read smut before, obviously but I didn’t pay it much attention, normally just swiped past 😂 but this one was a completely different story.

Manacled - @senlinyu - this is truly the most beautifully haunting story I’ve ever read. I remember when I first started reading it, I thought to myself, how the hell could I ever ship dramione in this world? Then those flashbacks. Fuck those flashback chapters were a punch in the gut. The way everything links and connects. I love it’s realistic ending. I often think of this story in the shower cause I had to force myself to go shower whilst I read this cause I honestly couldn’t put it down. And SPOILER, but I laughed so hard at a certain characters death even though I probably shouldn’t have but she was such a bitch. I get flashbacks myself of this story. I’ll be in the shower and I’ll remember a certain sentence, a certain scene in my head as if I truly walked with Hermione on this heart wrenching journey. But fuck manacled Harry, I hate that boy.

He Becomes by @abromaposts - I needed this story. This was the first thing I read after Manacled. Draco Malfoy looking after rabbits with the sole reason being to get close to Hermione, yes please. Rabbits are my favourite animals. It’s just so much fluff. And after Manacled I was grateful.

The Right Thing To Do - @lovesbitca8 - this was the bookshop, slow burn, fluffiness I needed in the summer. The start of a truly wonderful universe. Idiots in love, I’ve never went through so much second hand embarrassment. Every interaction between Hermione and Lucius was fantastic. Especially the final one! Every character was written to a way that I loved them so much. Plus this story makes you think (like the rest of the series) it doesn’t spoon fed you information.

All The Wrong Things - @lovesbitca8 - I never thought I’d be into first person POV. The last thing I read like that was The Hunger Games back in school, many years ago. But I truly felt as if Draco were telling me the story. I love how it filled in things we never seen in the first story. I love Draco’s characterisation. Unlike TRTTD, this feels more lighthearted. Could just be the horny Draco though and his dramatics?

The Auction - @lovesbitca8 - this story. where do I start? When I started reading this story I was in a completely different life. This story has seen me through a terrible time in my life. Honestly the last few chapters before the final chapter were a blur and I had to go and reread them cause my head was all over the place but the story. This story, on it’s own, I would say is better than any fiction I’ve ever read 🤷🏻‍♀️ it grips you, pulls you in. Every question you ask, you get answered with a ribbon and bow. I cannot express my love, for this story and for the hard work that has went into it. The characters in this world so vastly different yet similar to the ones we already learned to love. I could write a love letter to this story.

Hindsight by @floorcoaster - if you haven’t been following this year long, monthly updated story, then you’ve really missed out. Each chapter is a month of the year. The story starts with Hermione planning to trim down her calendar for the year ahead. Although it’s fiction it gave me a sense of hope for my future. I had started this year on a different note than Hermione, and I’m now ending it on a different note as well. I think this story does a good job of capturing the passage of time and just how quickly things can change. I also really love these adorable idiots in this story.

Bring Him To His Knees by @willhavetheirtrinkets (WIP) - the best co-worker, friends to lovers, fake relationship story I’ve read. No question. I sent @magicaltraveler3 a tearful voice memo after that last chapter that was posted (chapter 20). It isn’t the first time I’ve cried at a fanfic, but it is the first time that I predicted something bad would happen, but I didn’t expect the bad thing to be what it was. I can’t wait to see where this story goes. At this point I have completely forgot about the murder plot. I know it exists, and we’ll get back to the murder but I’d honestly read the characters in this story eating breakfast.

The Flat In Bath by @adaprix (WIP) - this was the first story I got into that ada has wrote. Instantly I was fascinated with the use of “flat” over “apartment”. Being Scottish I knew this was someone British. Anyway, a very interesting story and I can’t wait to see how the rest of it plays out.

Good by @lovesbitca8 - I am dying for the update of this story. As so many are, it is 🔥🔥🔥 all I can say. I can’t wait for the update!

The Erised Effect by @adaprix - When ada first told me she was thinking about writing a story about Pansy and Hermione working in a sex shop together. Telling me about having the idea of them meeting in the pub and how she “needed to get some filthy smut out of your system”. I didn’t think it would be my thing. Boy, did she prove me wrong!

The Cell by WrathOfMacy - I don’t know how I came to read this one. But damn, this was a good one (who am I kidding they’re all good ones). I’m still reading through it though. It’s a warfic in which Dramione end up locked in a cell together. The relationship builds nicely. I cannot wait to read more of it.

The Melody Of Touch by @magicaltraveler3 - I never knew I needed a dramione story like this story. I love that there is so much musical imagery incorporated into it. I haven’t read anything like it before. The story, the smut, the taxi and the freaking art work. It is everything!

Every Day, a Little Death by @lovesbitca8 - I’ll be honest with this one. I read the first chapter and the last chapter 🙈 BUT only cause everyone scared me so much. I plan to revisit. SPOILER. I may not care too much that Hermione cheated. Just me? Like yeah I hate cheating and she shouldn’t have done it, but like she admitted to it, and was very regretful for it. Anyway, the chapters I read were very interesting I look forward to revisiting it sometime.

Away by @indreamsink - written for the romcom fest and I got to say I think this one may be my favourite from the fest. Not only do you get dramione but you get the amazing side pairing of Harry/Pansy, which this year has really became my favourite side pairing. It’s like reading two love stories at once, I was interested in the dramione plot line obviously, but I was equally interested in the hansy/potts&pans plot line.

The Path Unexpected by @magicaltraveler3 - this story is a cute little domestic dramione fanfic. And I lived for it. It shows dramione going through the process of having a child and honestly, they’re so damn cute in this fic. The fanart is next level also!

#my 2020 reading list #personal #dramione #dhr #hermione x draco #draco and hermione #d/hr #draco x hermione #fanfiction #draco malfoy #hermione granger #hermione and draco #fanfics #dhr fanfics #2020 reads #reading list part 1 #2020 was crap but I had dramione #dramione writers are the best writers #my thoughts

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jaesqueso · 4 years ago

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Chef’s kiss (m)

pairing: chef!xiaojun x fem!reader

summary: a food tasting turns into a steamy session

word count: 1,861

warnings: quite a few terrible food puns, fingering, oral sex (receiving), unprotected sex (when in doubt don’t go without!)

a/n: this is terrible so I apologise in advance, I was just incredibly turned on by The Lonely Master Chef Xiao... anyway, do give me some feedback please! ❤︎

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

“So sorry I’m late, I-”

You stumble inside the room but stop as you come face to face with probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Y/N!” Your coworker calls as she walks towards you. “It’s ok, we barely even started. This is chef Xiaojun.”

“Hi…” You mutter not being able to take your eyes off him.

“Hello, nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to you and you quickly shake it before he’s able to tell how he’s making you feel.

“Come, let’s sit.” Your coworker takes your arm and leads you to two chairs next to a table with a few utensils on it. “He’s cute right?” She whispers as the chef places himself on the other side. You throw her a death glare and then look back at the gorgeous man.

Your company was having a fancy dinner with some new investors so they appointed you and your coworker to try out the menu to guarantee the food would captivate them into closing the business.

The chef starts by presenting you the appetisers: prosciutto-wrapped avocado with goat cheese and arugula, sausage stuffed mushrooms and some oysters Rockefeller. You each taste the three dishes as he explained the components. You were melting at the way he talked about each ingredient as if they were meant to be put together to create a feast in your mouth.

Next were the main courses: bourbon pecan chicken, crab-stuffed lobster tail and Scandinavian roasted venison tenderloin. Again you two tried a little bit of each and you couldn’t believe the burst of flavours in your mouth. You both giggle at his food related puns, he’s not only incredibly skilled in the kitchen but he also has a quirky sense of humour. Joining that with his beautiful features and you almost melt in your seat.

“Excuse me, I gotta take this call.” Your coworker left the room as the chef set up the deserts.

You admire the way Xiaojun carefully plates the food with his delicate hands making your mind wander at the thoughts of what other amazing things his hands might be capable of… You shake the hot imagery away as your coworker comes back inside.

“I’m so sorry but I have to go, I just got a call from the kindergarten and I really need to pick up my daughter.” She apologetically says as she picks up her things.

“Oh is she ok?” You ask in concern.

“She will be.” She walks to you grabbing your hand. “Y/N are you ok to finish up on your own?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.” You stutter as you realise that will leave you alone with the chef.

“You are a life saver!” She hugs you and then turns to the man. “If the desserts are as good as what we’ve tried so far this will be a very successful dinner! Thank you so much and see you tomorrow!”

He smiles and bows as she leaves the door. You take a deep breath and look back at him.

“Shall we continue?” You nod and match his smile trying to hide your sudden nervousness.

The desserts were then presented in front of you: rum raisin crème brulee, coffee caramel panna cotta and lemon merengue pie with sorbet.

“Crème brulee is one of my favourites desserts to serve,” Xiaojun lights up the torch and moves it closer to the container melting the sugar on top, “it’s a beautiful dish with an amazing flavour, best served when heated up on the spot.” He looks up at you and winks.

You gulp trying not to make it obvious that the dessert was not the only thing heating up. You take a spoon and damn if it wasn’t one of the best crème brulees you’ve ever tasted in your life. He smiles at the pleasant look in your face moving on the next dish.

“This panna cotta is perfect for coffee lovers, adding a sweet twist with the caramel.” He explains moving the plate in your direction.

You taste it and are amazed with the perfect combination of the flavours. You look at him and he seems to be staring at your lips. You widen your eyes as he leans over the table brushing his thumb in the corner of your mouth. So he did not have the same burning desire of kissing you, you just made a fool of yourself getting dirty like a child. What you were not expecting was that he would take his thumb to his mouth sucking it clean. That vision went straight to your core.

“Last but not least,” he continues as if he did not just made your legs weak, “the merengue can be served with a lime sorbet to increase the sour flavour or a simple vanilla sorbet to smooth it out.”

“Why not both?” He raises an eyebrow at your sudden teasing tone as you decided to test the waters. “I like to try new things… In my desserts.” He chuckles as he walks around the table to come stand next to you.

“Do you know why I became a chef?” He asks as he leans against the surface.

“Why?” You stand up so you are at his level.

“Food can be very intimate, but also very intense.” He licks his lips.

“Are you sure you’re still talking about food?” You smirk.

“Sure. Food can be sweet,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, ”or spicy.” He turns your bodies around, your butt now hitting the rim of the table as Xiaojun stands in front of you. “It can be warm,” he comes closer, hips against yours, “or cold.” He reaches behind you taking a bit of sorbet and bringing it to your lips. “If you mix it just right,” you open your mouth taking in the dessert, “and you’ll have the perfect level of intensity.”

Oh you’re definitely not thinking about food anymore. You feel a drop of sorbet falling from your mouth to your chest as he removes the spoon placing it back on the table. You look down and next thing you know he’s licking it clean looking up at you.

“That’s a very good sorbet, it would be a shame to let even a drop go to waste.” He lifts up his head to stand inches away from yours.

“Do they teach you to be this smooth in culinary school?” You tease.

“Well,” his hands smooth the sides of your body, “they do teach us to prep the ingredients before we get cooking.”

And with that the distance between you two fades in a delicious kiss. Your lips are cold from the sorbet while his are warm from all the smooth talk. He was right, if you mix it just right you get the perfect level of intensity.

Your arms wrap around his neck as the kiss develops. You moan softly when his mouth moves to your neck knowing exactly where to kiss and suck. His hands start to unbutton your blouse and you run your fingers through his hair. His mouth keeps moving down to the mounds of your breasts as his hands cup them over your bra.

He lifts his head back to take your mouth and his hands busy themselves hiking up your skirt and pushing down your panties. You yelp as he lifts you up to sit you over the table. One of his arms wraps around your waist as his other hand caresses your thigh until it reaches your folds.

You moan into his mouth as he circles your clit. You were right, his hands are capable of much more than cooking.

“You know,” he breaks the kiss and kneels down between your legs, “a great chef always tastes the food he prepares and you seem quite ready, mind if I do?”

“You’re the chef.” You smirk as he leans closer to your throbbing core.

He takes a long lick through your wetness and you lean back supporting yourself with your hands on the table. He takes his time eating you out like he’s savouring his favourite meal.

The heat builds up inside you and you bite your lip to prevent your moans from getting louder. His fingers are pumping in and out of you and within minutes you cum all over them. He licks off your juices and stands up again.

“Finger licking good.” He winks licking his digits.

“What can I say,” you chuckle, “you are a great chef.”

He kisses you again grinding his still clothed crotch against you naked cunt. You lower your hands and start unbuttoning his pants. He helps you out by pulling them down to his ankles along with his underwear. You take his dick in your hand and almost gasp at how hard he already is. You move your hand up and down his length and he breaks the kiss to let out a low moan.

“Ready for another meal?” He asks rubbing his tip on your wetness.

“I’ve never been so hungry.” You bite your lip.

Xiaojun aligns himself with your hole and you moan in unison as he penetrates you slowly. You hold his face and bring your mouths back together as he grabs your waist to steadies you while he starts moving inside you.

Muffled moans and skin slapping sounds fill the air. Sweat forms on your bodies like somebody turned up the heat to more than what human beings were made to withstand.

He takes his cock out only to turn you around, your back against his chest. He thrusts back in from behind and you lean your head back to rest on his shoulder. He kisses your neck massaging your clothed breasts as he thrusts into you harder and faster.

You clench around his length when he takes his hand back to your clit. You know you two won’t take long to give into the pleasure. And in no time your juices mix inside you like your moans mix in the air.

“So,” he breaths out as he removes himself from inside you, grabbing some napkins from the table to clean you two up, “You think your boss will like my menu?”

“Well,” your turn around to him as you two get dressed, “I wouldn’t recommend this last dish, I’d like to keep that one for myself.” You wink and Xiaojun leans closer kissing you one more time.

✦

“Good job you two, this night definitely made their minds, they’re ready to sign the deal.” Your boss raises his champagne glass to you and your coworker as you toast.

“I don’t know why but it felt like the food tasted even better today!” She nudges you as the older man steps away to mingle with the guests.

“I guess sometimes you have to keep tasting it to get the full experience.” You say with a smile as you glance at the food preparation area earning a wink from the chef.

“W-what was that?” She widens her eyes to you.

“What was what?” You take a sip from your champagne to hide your smile.

“Y/N, what happened after I left!?”

#xiaojun smut #dejun smut #nct smut #wayv smut #gimme gimme feedback #thanks for reading

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sailorfailures · 5 years ago

Photo

I fell in love with these postcards from the Girl’s Night Out popup cafe the moment I saw them! I knew I had to get my hands on them, and the lovely @blaze-rocket was able to help that happen.

I cannot get over how perfect these postcards are. To me, this is what Sailor Moon is; a testament to the little moments from the series that made us fall in love with the characters, especially how their personal preferences were reflected in their fashion choices. In a world of merch where it’s easy to just slap a random crescent moon on something pink and say “look, it’s Usagi,” the designer responsible for these graphics went the extra mile to take imagery from the show itself that needles its way deep into our nostalgia-cortexes.

How many references do you recognise? Quiz yourself against this comprehensive (image-heavy) list! 👇

The inners’ postcards all reference the eye-catching sign for Game Center Crown, the iconic arcade where Motoki Furuhata worked and the gang would all congregate to play games and share information.

Starting in R they switched to hanging out at Fruits Parlor Crown, a cafe attached to the arcade staffed by Motoki’s sister Unazuki, which the Inners’ postcards all also reference. They would often get brightly-coloured drinks there, but the drinks pictured on these postcards seem to specifically line up with the real drinks available at the Girls Night Out popup cafe.

Sailors Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto’s postcards all reference “Café Étrangère,” which was the name of the cafe they were seen dining at in the Sailor Moon S movie. Even the logo is replicated faithfully from a scene only a few seconds long.

All the girls’ clothes are hanging on coat hangers shaped like Luna/Artemis/Diana.

Ami / Sailor Mercury’s references:

Ami’s casual outfit is an unusual choice since she only wore it a handful of times over the entire series, and half the times she wore it, it was given a different colour scheme with a green jacket instead of the yellow version pictured here.

Her “mini data computer” is her most iconic tool/weapon/accessory, revealed in episode 009, directly after her introduction.

The pink package is how Usagi and the other girls wrapped up her transformation stick and communicator watch as Ami’s going-away present in episode 062.

The ice cream may be a reference to the same episode, as she shared a cone with Chibi-Usa before she left, and returned to the store to protect her friends from the Droid Nihpasu.

The flash cards are a method Ami commonly used to help her study, and are particularly similar to the ones shown in the SuperS short “Ami’s First Love”.

Rei / Sailor Mars’s References:

Rei wore her casual outfit fairly frequently, starting and most notably in the beginning of the Sailor Moon R movie.

The small red o-mamori charm is from Hikawa Shrine, seen frequently but introduced in episode 010.

The paper ofuda ward was used frequently by Rei to fight evil, even before she could transform, but most notably in the attack sequence for “Akuryou, Taisan” (“Foul Spirit, Begone”).

To my knowledge the purple bag isn’t a specific reference, but Rei did throw a similar purse at a Cardian as a makeshift weapon in episode 048 before she got her Guardian memories back.

The gift-wrapped shopping boxes are the exact same ones as carried by Rei in the Sailor Moon Sailor Stars opening sequence before she trips and falls, right down to the patterns on the paper...

... which in itself may be a reference/callback to Rei’s tendency to make Yuuichirou carry her shopping (maybe so she doesn’t trip).

The phoenix-shaped pendant is a reference to episode 183; it’s made of glazed ceramic, crafted by Rei’s cousin Kengo Ibuki, given to her as a child after she convinced him not to smash it even though he his pottery a “failure”.

Makoto / Sailor Jupiter’s References:

Makoto didn’t start wearing her casual outfit until around S, but she wore it frequently after that, especially as she became more confident wearing “feminine” clothing. They even remembered her iconic gold wrist watch worn over her sleeve!

Her uniquely decorated bento bag debuted in episode 026, her introductory episode, along with the rounded green cutlery. The pouch has been featured a few more times since and its design is a mainstay in almost every Sailor Moon canon.

The teal hairtie and the rose-shaped earrings are two of Makoto’s iconic accessories, some of the only non-magical fashion accessories in the entire series to stay the same whether the character is transformed or not (the other being Minako’s infamous red bow). Her earrings also served a dual purpose as makeshift projectile weapons in episode 025.

The blue book is 月夜の天馬 (Tsukiyo no Tenma, “The Moonlit Pegasus”), a novel which was written by Tomoko Takase and introduced in epsode 134. Makoto knew Tomoko from her old middle school, before she transferred, and was the first one to read her first draft after retrieving it from bullies. She encouraged Tomoko to try and get it published. Makoto meets with her again and helps her overcome her writer’s block to finish her sequel, 天馬幻想 (Tenma Gensou, “Pegasus Fantasy”).

Minako / Sailor Venus’s References:

This is one of Minako’s most-worn casual outfits, especially if you consider the additional outfits based off it. Despite its prevalence, she didn’t start wearing it until the beginning of S.

Minako’s red hair ribbon is her most iconic accessory, but did you know why she started wearing it? The Codename: Sailor V prequel manga explains that she started wearing the ribbon instead of her usual red hairtie on the suggestion of her “first crush” Higashi. But when he turns out to be an enemy in disguise, she decides she looks good with a ribbon anyway, and keeps wearing it for her own benefit.

The red mask is a reference to Minako’s role as Sailor V before joining the team as Sailor Venus. Sailor V was known as a mysterious vigilante superhero and a fictional video game character as early as episode 001, but in episode 033 Minako revealed herself to the rest of the Sailor Team, dramatically removing her mask one final time.

Minako was known to be a skilled volleyball player, especially in the manga, and it was especially relevant in episode 100 where she had to delicately return the serve of an energy sphere containing the Pure Heart of her old volleyball crush, Asai.

The sign with Minako’s name can be seen hanging off the front of her bedroom door in episode 192.

[Manga scan courtesy of Miss Dream.]

Usagi / Sailor Moon’s References:

Usagi wore this outfit in the Sailor Moon R movie, making it a memorable choice. Although the movie aired roughly midway through R, Usagi didn’t start to wear this outfit casually again until the S season.

Usagi is shown eating a lot of food, especially sweets, but she seems to have a particular fondness for crepes, snacking on them in several different episodes.

In episode 143 we can see that Usagi is very technologically trendy - for the times. She’s carrying that blue-and-pink pager which she and Mamoru use to contact each other by way of goroawase, that is, deciphering messages based on the different pronunciations of numbers, a precursor to modern texting. Mamoru pages her the numbers 84 51, which could be read as hachi yon go ichi; reading only the first syllables, and substituting go for the related sound ko, Usagi would interpret the message as hayo koi, which sounds a bit like “come quick” - she’s late for their date. Oops!

By the way, pagers were often called “pocket bells” (pokeberu) in Japan, and became so rapidly popular they even found their way into the lyrics of Rashiku Ikimasho, the ending song for the SuperS season; 「泣きたい時にはポケベルならしてよんで、戦士の休息」 [Nakitai toki ni wa POKEBELL narashite yonde, senshi no kyuusoku] “If you feel like crying, send a page thru the Pocket Bell, take a break from [being a] Guardian”

Chibi-Usa / Sailor Chibi Moon’s References:

Chibi-Usa doesn’t technically have a school uniform, but her casual clothes are often styled after sailor suits as a reflection of both her idolisation of the figure of “Sailor Moon” and of her desire to be seen as older and more mature than she appears. She changes “uniforms” every season, and this pinafore outfit is the version she wears in SuperS. She wore the other outfit in the SuperS premiere episode.

The handgun is from episode 060, Chibi-Usa’s introduction to the series and arguably one of the most iconic absurdist scenes in all of Sailor Moon. The gun itself is actually a toy, probably a transformation of the Luna-P sphere, which Chibi-Usa uses to try and threaten Usagi into giving her the Legendary Silver Crystal. When she “shoots” Usagi, the bullet is revealed to be nothing but a suction-cup flower, also pictured. (By the way, if you were wondering, Chibi-Usa’s fake gun is based on a real Colt M1911A1.) She transforms the Luna-P into a toy gun to shoot Sailor Moon again in the Sailor Moon R movie, this time as a way to motivate Usagi to fight.

The Luna-P sphere was a mysterious gadget Chibi-Usa kept with her for the duration of R and parts of S. It’s unknown where it came from, but it could be assumed to have been created from advanced 30th century technology. It was a combination toy and tool which could transform itself into a variety of objects, formulas, and even weapons, though none were shown to be particularly powerful. It could also be used to communicate with Sailor Pluto at the Time-Space Door. When Chibi-Usa was manipulated into becoming Wicked Lady in episode 085, the Luna-P sphere also transformed into an “evil” and much more dangerous version.

The Space-Time Key was a special tool given to her by Sailor Pluto that allowed her to travel between the past and the future, though it was difficult for her to wield effectively.

The sunhat was given to Chibi-Usa by Ikuko, so she treasured it greatly. In episode 112 it got blown away and was retrieved by Hotaru Tomoe, which allowed her to meet Chibi-Usa and marked the beginning of their close friendship.

The blue-and-red package was a gift containing two manga books (”Drop Drop” vol. 1 & 2 by Ukon Katakuri) which Chibi-Usa intended to give to her new friend Hotaru in episode 113.

In episode 127, Chibi-Usa returned home to the future, and the girls all made her some going-away gifts. Ami made her a floppy disk (lol) to help her study, Rei made her a casette tape (double lol) of her music, Makoto packed her a lunch, and Minako made her a photo album of their time together. Usagi hand-sewed Chibi-Usa the rabbit-shaped backpack using a real outfit she used to love when she was a child.

Michiru / Sailor Neptune’s References:

This is a somewhat unusual choice for Michiru’s casual outfit, as she only wore it for two episodes, and that’s only because they made up a two-part story. But perhaps because the episodes were so pivotal - with Haruka and Michiru almost learning Usagi’s true identity - the outfit itself became more memorable.

Not only do they include Michiru’s violin, but they included the lemon she bounced off the instrument as she played to show off her skills in episode 093.

The teacup, teaspoon and saucer are the same set Michiru was seen drinking from at Fruits Parlor Crown in episode 094.

Michiru and Haruka both reference episode 095, where they had to enter a “true love” contest as part of their investigation. The contestants were asked to find their partner’s hand in an anonymous lineup, and Haruka was able to identify Michiru’s hand immediately.

Michiru used Haruka as a model for an illustration in her green sketchbook in episode 106.

Michiru’s Talisman is the Deep Aqua Mirror, revealed in episode 110 and used in her attack Submarine Reflection. She could also use it to receive prophetic visions. Visually, it was based on real-life art nouveau hand mirrors, and symbolically represented the mirror from the Three Sacred Treasures.

Haruka / Sailor Uranus’s References:

Conversely, Haruka wore this outfit a lot. Maybe more than she should’ve.

The teacup and saucer is the same set Haruka was seen drinking from at Fruits Parlor Crown in episode 094.

Haruka’s postcard also references the lovers contest in episode 095 (see above).

The purple scarf is from episode 096; Haruka was wearing it as a necktie when she almost ran into Makoto on her motorcycle. Haruka used the scarf to bandage Makoto’s road rash, which she returned later, though now smitten.

Not only is Haruka’s motorcycle included, they also referenced (one of) her car(s), the 1968 Toyota 2000GT.

Haruka’s Talisman is the Space Sword, revealed in episode 110 and used in her attack Space Sword Blaster. Symbolically it represented the sword from the Three Sacred Treasures.

Setsuna / Sailor Pluto’s References:

Setsuna didn’t have a school uniform, since she wasn’t a student, so she got to double-up on her casual outfits. Her mauve outfit is her most recognisable, wearing it so often it may as well have been her uniform. In fact, she was rarely seen wearing anything else until Sailor Stars, where she started experimenting with other outfits, including the Time Lord-esque suit on the right.

The potted plant is a Tellun, the energy-draining plant created by Tellu in episode 121. Setsuna was investigating it when it attempted to attack her, but she was protected by her Talisman, the Garnet Orb (also pictured, representing the jewel in the Three Sacred Treasures). She then went on to destroy the remaining Tellun plants and defeat Tellu with the help of Sailor Moon, Sailor Chibi Moon, and Tuxedo Mask.

The teacup and saucer are the same set Setsuna is seen drinking from at Cafe Etranger in the Sailor Moon S movie.

In episode 182, the girls are discussing the mysterious arrival of Chibi Chibi while eating ice cream on a hot summer’s day. Setsuna appears out of nowhere to confirm their suspicions... carrying that popsicle of her own.

Hotaru / Sailor Saturn’s References:

Hotaru tended to wear the same thing, mostly all-black, but she did occasionally adventure into rich colours like this bottle green two-piece outfit and iconic raspberry beret.

The sunhat belonged to Chibi-Usa; it symbolises the beginning of their friendship, when Hotaru caught it after it blew away in episode 112.

Chibi-Usa gave Hotaru the rabbit backpack in episode 116, using it to pass a note inviting her on a picnic.

Hotaru collects lamps, and the two referenced here are seen in her bedroom, which she keeps dimly lit to manage her pain.

The window might seem random, but it was random in the series, too - it’s one of the curtained window which looks out from Hotaru’s bedroom, and when a Daimon experiment goes terribly wrong in episode 118 and transforms her house into a Bamboozled-like inter-dimensional maze, one window overlooks a vast ocean while the other overlooks a strange jungle.

Hotaru’s weapon as Sailor Saturn is the Silence Glaive. It’s said that she possesses enough power to destroy the world with a single drop of her scythe.

That’s it! You made it! How many references did YOU know? 🌙

#sailor moon #long post #I couldn't have done this the easy way. I couldn't have just posted the pictures and been like 'ooh look pretty'.#it was fun though and I actually learned some things in the process #I feel like I slipped through time somehow and designed these for Toei and then blacked it from my memory #again: sincere apologies to those on mobile

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a-pirate-my-hearties · 4 years ago

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Brotherhood of the Wolf (a review? Furious posting? Who knows? I know that film is 19 years old but anyway, #spoilers ahead). Buckle up for a long post!

Yesterday I watched “Brotherhood of the Wolf” for the first (and probably last) time. It definitely looked like my type of thing - period drama, XVIII century, horror elements, I knew some of the cast are good actors, so I decided to give it a try.

According to Wikipedia:

“Brotherhood of the Wolf (French: Le Pacte des loups) is a 2001 French period action horror film[3][4] directed by Christophe Gans, co-written by Gans and Stéphane Cabel, and starring Samuel Le Bihan, Mark Dacascos, Émilie Dequenne, Monica Bellucci and Vincent Cassel. The story takes place in 18th-century France, where the Chevalier de Fronsac and Mani of the Iroquois tribe are sent to investigate the mysterious slaughter of hundreds by an unknown creature in the province of Gévaudan. The plot is loosely based on a real-life series of killings that took place in France in the 18th century and the famous legend of the beast of Gévaudan; parts of the film were shot at Château de Roquetaillade. The film has several extended swashbuckling fight scenes, with martial arts performances by the cast mixed in, making it unusual for a historical drama. The special effects for the creature are a combination of computer generated imagery, as well as puppetry and animatronics designed by Jim Henson's Creature Shop.”

So while the martial arts (of which I’m a big fan, everyone who knows me well knows that) and animatronics seemed atypical for such a film, I decided to watch anyway. And it was good fun while it lasted (2 and a half hour is waaay too long, by the way, at least for my taste), but then I was finished, which left me sleep deprived (now I know it wasn’t that worth it), and so it begins.

There’s too much of everything stuffed into that film. Swashbuckling fight scenes, period drama, horror, Gothic themed scenes (and a lot of them, which made my little creepy heart happy), martial arts, Native American rituals and beliefs, an animatronic beast (??? I mean, at least they could have made it CGI, for crying out loud), a dangerous religious sect, and way too much unnecessary violence towards innocent wolves (I know they weren’t innocent in the eyes of those who killed them, but the film makers could at least decide not to show it explicitly). So much going.

And I’m fuming, because it could have been so easily a wonderful Gothic horror kind of film! With better writing and less fiddling about the plot it could have been something like “Jane Eyre” or "Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde", or “Crimson Peak”, but no. Nooo. They had to make it sell, hence a lot of special effects and unnecessary (in my eyes) fight scenes.

So what did we have that could have made “Brotherhood of the Wolf” a great, believable Gothic horror piece of cinema?

the protagonist (Grégoire de Fronsac) and his loyal, mysterious friend (Mani), that is much more interesting than the protagonist really (and is a Native American from the Iroquois tribe, who possesses magic powers? He’s got that powerful connection with nature and spirits. Idk how that’s supposed to fit into the Gothic, but eh, Mani was an awesome character and I’m not going to let him out of this)

the feisty heroine (Marianne de Morangias)

the disabled/disfigured antagonist with tragic past ( Jean-François de Morangias, THANK YOU VINCENT CASSEL)

the mysterious, badass courtesan (bowing down to Monica Belucci for this one)

the horror story AND the space for the horror that’s unravelling (the beast killing people in the province of Gévaudan, the province itself + the castle)

the (almost tragic) love story (de Fronsac + Marianne)

the duality of good and evil (kinda) in one character (Jean-François being all cute and easy on the eyes and more-less civil before he reveals his disfigurations to Marianne and oh boy. I’d love to say Jekyll&Hyde, but it wasn’t a thing until 1886, so let’s say a two-face kind of situation, because doppelgänger would be a stretch here.)

incest/incestous attraction - (I know, it’s fucking horrible, but it was quite common in XIX century literature - vide writings of François-René de Chateaubriand (for example René , 1805), and, unfortunately, in life, so you can look up Byron and his sister, and it was used in “Crimson Peak” as well

a lot of sexy banter and intellectual talk in general (one should never underestimate the tension it creates!)

Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls™

So yeah, this sums up more less what could have been...

Now what went wrong.

Grégoire de Fronsac is boring. Just plain boring, at least in my eyes. I appreciate that he went straight up berserk to avenge Mani though. That was Good Shit.

Marianne de Morangias. Feisty and stubborn, yes. Intelligent, without a doubt. Sensitive, still a bit naive and putting on a shield because she’s growing up in an unfavourable environment. But I have a feeling that she wasn’t exactly written well enough and she’s ends up being at least a bit of an annoying, privileged, poutty child. So there’s that, maybe I’m nitpicking.

Jean-François de Morangias. Simply a wasted character, because Vincent Cassel’s acting was GORGEOUS. He could have been a great antagonist/villain if given a chance, and it was ruined by too much protagonist, running around aimlessly, swashbuckling and kicking through the scenes. Him being the commander of the beast wasn’t explained well enough (because the beast had a commander). And they ended up giving Jean-François the weirdest weapon in the final fight with de Fronsac, which ruined his image entirely and just. Didn’t stick, just what the fuck was that? What the fuck was that nunchaku-sword made of bones????

That beast. It was just laughable. I’m sorry, I was sympathizing the fuck with it, it was a tortured animal put into heavy armour and trained to kill, but just. Wtf was that armour?? Who made that thing and decided it was good to put that into the film???

Too much martial arts, again. What was that for?

I feel like, besides Mani, most of the Native American/POC were depicted in a racist manner, like they weren’t even talking, just fighting, drinking, partying, not talking AT ALL most of the time but growling at each other or others, laughing like maniacs, acting agressive, like animals, even the sexual behaviours shown on the screen were vulgar. I don’t know if it was supposed to show POC through the lens of the white people of that time, but it was awful anyway.

Scenes pointlessly fading one into the other. Probably made to look artistic. Didn’t make sense most of the time.

The plot was full of holes. Just wear a bullet-proof vest next time.

If I can sum this up in any way... Watch it for the beautiful pictures, music, costumes, Vincent Cassel, Monica Bellucci and Mark Dacascos. And don’t expect too much from the plot.

#brotherhood of the wolf #le pacte des loups #monica bellucci #vincent cassel #mark dacascos #samuel le bihan #emilie dequenne #gothic #gothic horror #swashbuckling #martial arts #period drama #historical drama #XVIII century #XIX century

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mysterylover123 · 4 years ago

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Mysterylover watches Bleach episodes 144-145

mysterylover123

1. NEW OP!!! THERE’S A NEW OP! notes on it: First, since Renji and Ruki are on the “Team Rescue Hime” symbolic rock statues with Ichi, Chad and URyu, I can presume safely that they’re gonna say “screw you system” and help save her? 2. Not seeing Tatsuki so either they’re keeping her role in this a secret or I’m gonna be mad that she’s been left out again. 3. Please don’t drown Hime! (I know it’s symbolic. Whatever she’s symbolically drowning in.) 4. The Table Meeting of the Council of Sexy Bad Guys will now come to order.

2. Onto the actual episode. I wonder if we’re gonna have a similar twist to the last arc here, where the seeming Good Guy Boss turns out to be evil conspiracy theory captain? By which I mean Old Guy who said “Don’t save Hime”.

3. Ichi and Uryu continue to adorable bicker about how they’re gonna do this. That comedy music. Why do you guys always have your rom com bickering in the middle of the Serious Kidnapping Arcs? You tell em, Chad!

4. Wow Ichi actually got Uryu to apologize? Someone’s having character development.

5. You know, with these three idiots on the job, Hime should probably start writing her own obituary. Cause this first attempt isn’t exactly inspiring confidence. You guys seriously need Renji, Ruki and Tatsuki’s help if you actually wanna get this done.

6. LOL Chad and Uryu being like “stop hogging our screentime Ichi we wanna fight this one”.

7. “OMG Uryu you’re using a BOW?” “Duh Ichi that’s my whole thing.”

8. Sorry I don’t have a ton to say about this fight. Ishi and Chad gonna show Ichi that they’ve got the chops. hopefully this leads to a Hime scene soon.

9. LOL at the villain as he dies being like “WE LOVE OUR FEARLESS GOD AIZEN SOOOO MUCH”. Got quite a cult around you now, huh?

10. Of course our trio of morons is fine. They’re Shonen heroes, nothing phases them.

11. Gotta say the imagery in this arc is sick. Very appropriate for the Season of Halloween as I’m writing it. (By the way, I have to ask, is Bleach’s Halloween filler episode all that spoiler-y? Can I watch it next week for a Halloween special?)

12. OOH the Meeting of the Bad Guys council has come to order! And one appears to be a girl. Aizen and his two sidekicks are leading.

13. You know, Aizen, now that I have lifted my “cancelled” status on you, I’m getting more interested in you as a character. We know like nothing about why this villain guy does what he does and I’m hoping there’s more to it than just “world domination”. He has a cool (and sexy, unfortunately) character design and seems to be well-liked among fans, so there I hope there’s more to him than appears.

14. And our merry band of morons haven’t yet figured out that they’re running in place or something like that. These guys are seriously our best option? like, we just saw a rundown of our Main Villains and NGL they seem pretty OP in comparison to the protags.

15. Why is our core trio such a bunch of comedic dumbasses anyway? I mean, they are our main characters and they may as well be the 3 stooges here.

16. “Don’t distract Uryu with all your sexual tension shenanigans Ichi or we’ll die.” Seriously you two settle down. Argue-flirt on your own time. You’ve got a goddess to go rescue right now!

17. At the Villain Tea Party of Expositional Presentations, GJ is all “ICHIGO!!!”, Aizen as he drinks his tea be like “Only dumb villains underestimate the protagonists, guys” and Ulqui just be like “whatever”.

18. GJ be like “I’m off to slay Ichi! Totally not personal grudge or anything”. Aizen is honestly a pretty good villain boss so far. Like, I could see working for this guy. At least you’d get tea.

19. Did Aizen just Spirit Pressure Scare GJ into complying? OK maybe not the HankScorpio level good villain boss then. He reasonably is like “let’s be patient, we’ll get to kill em eventually. I mean, I’m me.” Dammit Aizen GJ wants to go fight Ichi again!

20. Our moron trio befriends what looks like an adorable little HollowLizard and gives some exposition.

21. And they find a human girl with blue teal hair? Like, the very last minute of the episode is “OMG a little girl in danger”. Huh. I wonder if she’s that Sexy Teal Haired Lady I see being referenced in Bleach all the time, just in child form.

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forgiven-whimsy · 4 years ago

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The Red Violin

FFXIV write 2020 prompt 2: Sway

Shiloh’s song Shiloh and Emet’s duet (note the spotify version has a longer piano opening.)

Anyways, touches of Lominsan/Vylbrand headcanons (they’re the ff Newfoundland, imo) Aumortine music and art headcanons, and Garlean headcanons. Imagery leaning heavily on 5.3 revelations, while I don’t use express spoilers, reader beware.

Set After Rak’Tika, but before Ahm Areng.

Rated T - Angst

Wol x Emet-Selch

(Why yes the Red Violin is one of my all time favorite movies, why do you ask?)

“I am a patron of the arts, always have been, the best your kind has to offer is found in the arts, incomplete as it is, there’s a certain charm to be found in it.” Emet-Selch sipped from his wine glass, swiping his gloved finger over the bars surface then wrinkling his nose.

“What do you mean incomplete? Art is by its very nature subjective, therefore art’s completeness is defined by the artist, not the audience.” Shiloh replied, not particularly keen on hearing about all the ways she was inferior, but curious about how his timeless people made music, or art, the idea of Asciens being artists was a foreign concept, yet getting to know Emet-Selch, not entirely far-fetched. Solus Zos Galvus was historically a patron of the arts, she’d been aboard the Prima Vista and seen the reach of his patronage.

“It would be easier to show you.” And with a snap of his fingers the Crystarium vanished and he transported them to an entirely different environ. They were in a theatre, great gold trimmed red curtains, on stage a spotlight centered on a sleek black grand piano, surrounding it was all manner of string instruments, violin, cello, lute, harp, and even others she couldn’t name, Shiloh itched to touch them, to try them and see what sound they might make. The stage jutted out in a half moon, far more open than anything she’d ever seen, the audience seating surrounded the stage allowing a certain intimacy between artist and audience. Above, there was a massive chandelier whose teardrop crystals twinkled in the soft theatre lighting, the balconies climbed three stories, each gilded and carved with vines and flowers, painted in reds and golds, opulent. Stage left there was one particular balcony that caught her eye, the carvings more elaborate and draped in finery.

“This is the Great Arena Theatrum in Garlemald,” Shiloh near gasped out, before rounding on Emet-Selch, “you brought me to Garlemald?” She had just let him, an Ascien, teleport her to the heart of enemy territory, and she wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed, furious or ashamed at being taken so easily. The musician in her near fainted with joy. Regardless of Garlean politics, every musician, actor, and dancer worth their salt has dreamt of performing on the Theatrums stage, Shiloh was no exception. While she was the daughter of a Doman refugee, she had been raised in Vylbrand, and the island's lifeblood was music. A house wasn’t a home without a piano, and a fiddle, and she’d been taught both as a child. She could recall playing her fiddle standing on the kitchen table imagining herself on this very stage.

“Calm down hero, we are in an approximation of my own making, hidden away from prying eyes here in Norvrant, my fool grandson let the Theatrum fall into disrepair.” He sniffed derisively, “when I have proven my point to you I shall return you to the Crystarium without a hair out of place. It wounds me that you still don’t trust me.” He gave her a smile that did not inspire trust.

He walked her into the spotlight, his gloved hands touching her lightly at the elbow, the twinkling light from the chandelier painted stars onto the raised top of the grand piano exposing the finely curved wood and strings within. Sitting on the piano bench was a violin case, Emet-Selch presented it to her with a flourish. Shiloh sat and opened the case to reveal the most exquisite violin she’d ever beheld. The spruce top had been stained a deep red with a bow to match, she delicately ran her fingers over the curving wood, the strings, the bow. Shiloh made a noise in her throat as she lifted the rare treasure into her arms, that prompted a chuckle from her Ascien companion. “A peace offering, the only condition is to play me something that stirs your soul, something original if it please.” He lifted her chin forcing her gaze from the violin to him, “move me, and I shall show you what your music once was.”

“No pressure,” Shiloh held his gaze, seeing a spark of something she couldn’t describe in his golden eyes. “It’s been years since I’ve played, anything.” The weight of his expectation was heavy. He only smiled.

“I have faith in you, dear hero.” Emet-Selch snapped his fingers and he disappeared into a black portal, she heard it re-open stage left, and there he sat, every inch an emperor in his gilded private balcony. “Take whatever time you need to warm up.” he called from his lavish chair, glass of wine in hand. With that, the theatre lights dimmed, the instruments, all save the grand piano, vanished, the spotlight remained on her.

Shiloh felt like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. Squaring her shoulders she set the violin to her chin and prayed to all the Twelve and Kami, The Light and Dark both, that the bow would glide across the strings without screaming. The last time she’d picked up a violin was at Haurchefant’s funeral, at the behest of Lord Edmont, nearly two years past. A lance of grief sliced through her. She could refuse, she could tell him to bring her back to the Crystarium, but then, she’d never know what Ascien music sounded like. It was the memory of Haurchefant, the two of them sitting shoulder to shoulder playing a silly duet on his childhood piano in the Fortempt music room that steeled her spine.

She started with a slow scale, each note sung and not screamed, to her considerable relief. Shiloh exhaled, it wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t terrible, her fingers remembered the strings. She warmed up with scales, old childhood lullabies, folk songs played around the kitchen table. Finally she played an Ishgardian waltz, the sheet music a gift from her departed friend. She felt herself smiling, eyes shut, tail swaying in time with the tempo. Her mind filling in the missing instruments as the red violin sang with a full and mournful voice. So focused on practicing and remembering, Shiloh didn’t hear Emet-Selch’s portal behind her.

“All very lovely, my dear, I’m sure Master Jevant Dufet would be pleased with such an able rendering of the Midnight Waltz, and without sheet music, most impressive.”

Shiloh startled, spinning around to face him.

Emet-Selch tutted her while he approached, he placed gentle hands at her waist, spinning her back into the spotlight. He was in her space and she could feel his warmth, smell his scent. “I didn’t ask you to stop.” His long arms reached around lifting the violin back to her collar bone, he tilted her head just so before tracing a gloved finger along her jaw and arched neck. “I want to hear the song that resides in your soul.” His breath ghosted along her cheek, the timber of his voice resonating along her horn, and she felt her skin pebble. “Will you play it for me?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have any original composi-”

“Stop thinking, close your eyes, listen, and play.” His voice was patient, while he lifted her bow arm to the right position.

Shiloh inhaled, and did as she was bid, listening, for what, she didn’t know. She felt the quick beat of a Thanvarian flamenco fluttering in her chest and slowly bow met strings, and the song that flew out was urgent, her bowing quick and precise borrowing heavily of the Thanvarian style, but so too was there a distinctly Ul’dhan quality, in her mind's eye she felt as a bird flying over the dunes, weaving over the rising heat.

Emet-Selch’s touch was soft, gone was the silk of his glove, replaced by warm skin, his snap fit within her song and suddenly the guitar, the percussion, the accompanying strings, the piano, the light horns, the full voice of her song burst forth, the violin threading through each section. “Open your eyes.” he whispered against her horn, and she did.

Gone was the theatre, they were bathed in the colours of the sunset, and above them flew a phoenix, dipping and diving along all the lands she’s seen, and saved, and loved. “Don’t stop.” he whispered, setting a hand on her hip and squeezing. She gasped at the sight, at the raw beauty. And she played with a bursting heart, tears slipping from unblinking eyes unwilling to look away from the dancing phoenix. She increased the tempo, bowing more quickly, the notes tumbling along the winds of the star, knowing that it would end if she stopped, and she didn’t want it to stop. She let the fire in her soul burn as brightly as she could, uncaring of the ach in her fingers, knowing only that the creature above was born of her music, and so she played for it’s pleasure, and it soared, the violin it’s voice and heart. Until in a burst of flame it was consumed, and the song ended.

She swayed on her feet, consumed by emotion, bittersweet tears running down her face. She leaned against Emet-Selch who remained behind her, his hand at her throat, and hip moving gently, caressing. Overwhelmed she exhaled a shuddering breath.

“Do you understand now, what was lost?” He asked quietly, voice heavy with the same emotion she was feeling.

“How did you?”

“I assure you my dear I did nothing but lend you a sliver of my power, the song, the image, everything, was born of your heart, your soul. And so it was that all art was created in a similar fashion. The full intent of the piece complete.”

Shiloh spun in his arms, still clutching bow and violin, she was met with a half quirked smile and a softness in his eyes she’d not thought possible. He tenderly brushed the tears from her cheeks, “yours was always a beautiful song, so full of passion.”

Shiloh’s head was swimming, she wanted to keep playing, she had so many questions, and yet she found herself drowning in the liquid gold of his eyes, the same pale gold as her own. She licked her lips, and leaned against the palm of his hand where he held her cheek.

“Play with me?” she asked breathless, “before we go, play with me, a duet.” He closed his eyes, his expression pained, “please, Emet.”

“How can I turn down so earnest a plea?” he gave her a rueful smile, “but, first.” He pressed his forehead to her own, and she felt something, cool, and comforting wash over her, where her song, her aether, she belatedly realized, was like the sun, Emet-Selch’s aether, his soul was as the moon. Her own aether responded, curious and warm, until their essence mingled, until there was no ending nor beginning between them. “There, that should serve.”

Shiloh both did and didn’t understand what he’d done, he stepped back going to the grand piano. His presence remained, slowly curling around her, lazy and familiar. “As before, listen, and play.”

Shiloh lifted the violin, and tilted her head, giddy with anticipation, moving to be in sight of him and waited.

Emet began the song, quiet notes on the piano, Shiloh did not close her eyes this time. With each passing note the theatre fell away replaced by blackest night until a city made of stardust rose around them. He met her eyes and nodded and she knew her part had come and she joined her song to his, she knew the notes, a song from a past she couldn’t place, suddenly the starlit city filled with people wraithlike and sparkling. But it was two individuals that caught her eye. Emet-Selch changed the tempo to a style she’d never heard before, yet it was familiar, she adjusted her tempo to match. The two wraiths danced, spinning through the grand city, there was joy in their movements. Unadulterated love between them. One lifted the other, and she could swear the one who was lifted laughed, when placed down they ran from the first, a game. The first chased, sometimes catching them in a kiss, sometimes missing, until the other rounded back to jump into the firsts arms. Shiloh’s heart ached, the song and starlit players a half remembered memory. The song changed again, mournful, the city fell away, one of the wraiths, the one who played, faded, leaving only one, until it also faded, and the song ended.

She felt the pain thrumming from Emet’s aether still entwined with her own, his head bowed over the piano. Shiloh set the violin back in its case and went to him, wrapping her arms around his back, anything to ease the overwhelming sadness. His hand grasped at her arm, and she felt a shudder from him.

“I’m here.” She whispered against his ear, soft hair tickling her nose.

He shook his head.

“I’m here.” She repeated, not understanding all, but knowing what she witnessed in their shared song had been a glimpse of their story.

He twisted in her arms, anguish on his face, “you left.” his voice a harsh whisper fraught with emotion.

She had no answer for him, nothing to ease the pain, she didn’t understand, didn’t remember, whatever her soul had been to him, was gone, but it’s echo knew him, called to him, and she kissed his angry mouth, a despairing sound whimpered from Emet’s throat. He grabbed her and kissed her again, and again, hungry, lost, full of longing. Their twined aether created a feedback loop consuming them. His hands were everywhere, and Shiloh arched into him. In a moment he had her against the piano, discordant notes interrupting their growing passion. It was enough to stop them, and for a half beat they stared at each other panting. Emet-Selch was the first to move, tearing his aether from hers, and she winced, the withdrawal a physical pain. He snapped his fingers, returning Shiloh to the Crystarium, as promised, without so much as a word.

She made her way back to her room in the Pendants, still processing everything she’d learned, and seen, and felt. Every so often touching her kiss swollen lips. She slid into her room meeting no one she knew along the way, no one to question the high blush on her cheek and chest, or the dazed look in her eyes. Distracted as she was it took a minute for her to notice the violin case sitting on her kitchen table. She knew before opening it what she’d find within, a promise, a memory, her red violin.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #prompt #Emet-Selch x wol #have some music and some angst #with half an hour to spare #Shadowbringers #Vague 5.3 spoilers #Exposed writes

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inikavulpixelreviews · 5 years ago

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Let’s Talk About Pokemon - Toxel and Toxtricity

848: Toxel

Mmmmmm. I don't remember if I've ever said it in this review series, but I have a really bad repulsion to babies. Toxel isn't exactly being an exception here. Combination of the baby fat in the cheeks and lips and dumb little oversized head and its tongue and its bald-looking lightly misshapen head and AUGH. No sirree, Toxel had a snowball's chance in hell for falling into my good graces just from being so heavily baby-based alone.

It doesn't help that it has a diaper and... oh no... is that why it's Poison type? Please don't tell me that's why it's Poison type. Oh god I dreaded what this thing might turn into when it evolved, and I probably only would've evolved it because my own sister was insistent I keep this horrible little slime goblin around to see what it turns into.

Maybe, just MAYBE I'm being a little too harsh on Toxel, maybe not any of its features are inherently bad but that's just too bad for me I guess. I just had to be a kid in the 90s when a cartoon that was big at the time just happened to air an episode that highlighted all the gross things about babies all at once in a nightmarish context that gave me a goddang phobia of the friggin things as a child. While I don’t really have a crippling fear of them anymore I sure as hell don’t wanna go near one if I can help it. Maybe I'd be writing a very different review right now if a show like that didn't ruin babies forever for me but I guess we'll just never know. And I can’t say I’d ever be very affectionate to a Pokemon that instantly made me think of a scene that scared the ever-loving shit out of me as a kid thank you very much.

...Other than... ALL that... Toxel doesn't have anything going for it anyways. Poison/Electric is a neat typing that was feeling like it was going to waste because it's just some purple thing with a spark of electricity glued to its forehead I guess because they didn't think it looked “Electric” enough. I don't even like the grumpy face cause it's still very babyish. At least in this context... plant these grumpy eyes on literally anything else and I'd probably be all for it but euch. EUCH. The only advantage it really has going is that it’s fairly non-descript as an animal so it looks fairly solidly just-a-monster in a Gen 1 sorta way. But other than that...

Personal Score: 2/10

849: Toxtricity

...How the hell did one of my new least favorite Pokemon of all time suddenly become my top favorite in all of Galar???? Well, whatever. Be careful who you call ugly in preschool, I guess.

Gamefreak must've known they had a hit on their hands with this one, I'm surprised it was a Pokemon they kept secret until the game came out given how much it's skyrocketed into popularity (Striking number 2 in Gen 8 in the Pokemon of the Year polls, only just behind Galar's pseudo legendary). It's definitely at least pushed like one of the flagship Pokemon of Galar, with statues dedicated to it and its own G-Max form that they felt the need to keep further under wraps until very recently, only teasing its appearance as a hill figure. You're even handed a free Toxel at the Daycare. Frankly I'm alarmed no major character even has one on their team!

But this design in general totally is one of the stars of the show in Gen 8. While it definitely lifts aspects of salamanders and other amphibians into its design, it feels a lot like the classic “just a monster” type design from Pokemon's early days. The way they anthropomorphize it is neat too. It has an overall comical body structure with a long neck, lanky long arms and amusingly tiny legs.

Its face is also great. The tired, dreary eyes are cool and it thankfully turned that badly implemented bolt feature from Toxel into a full on electric mohawk! The head spikes are also neat, especially at the angle it holds its head back in its default pose ingame, it sorta evokes the look of the head of an electric guitar.

And that right there's the whole aesthetic of Toxtricity, of course! They're punk rockers! All covered in spikes and everything, even right down to having spiked belt. The little wart-like bulges on its chest are also doubling as guitar strings! There's plenty animations where it strums them to rock out, mohawk lighting up and everything. It strums these warts to generate electricity and make a ton of noise while it does so. That's such a cool way to incorporate an object into a naturalistic element on an animal. I like my objectmon and monsters with on the nose object motifs quite a bit myself, but it's cool that Toxtricity managed to fit an element as specific as an electric guitar's strings into an animal that would normally have no business having such an element but it just works.

And I can understand not everybody digs that color scheme; fairly bright purple and yellow is brave, to say the least, but I'd say it works! Even if I'm oddly enough, kind of a fan of color schemes other people might consider garish, you could say it just works because Toxtricity as a punk rocker is all about tearing down the norms, man. It also helps to make it look far more lively than its more mellowed out cousin.

Which, by the way, Toxtricity has a form gimmick too. A pretty unique one at that, and now that they've had it happen I'm surprised it's only happened just now, but what form your Toxel becomes depends on what Nature it is. The more excitable, energetic sounding natures will become the Amped form above, while the more chill or relaxed sounding natures will become the “Low Key” form.

At first, you'd wonder what that has to do with punk rock and why Toxtricity out of all the band-themed Pokemon we've already had up to this point, but a closer inspection highlights that Low Key is more of a bass as opposed to Amped as a guitar. They even have bumps mirroring their respective instruments! Amped has six just like an electric guitar has six strings, while Low Key has four, just like an electric bass has four strings! Low Key even seems to have a slightly longer neck than Amped form does, again, just like how basses have longer necks compared to guitars! It really is so much fun how much mileage they're getting out of the visual theming here. It’s really cool how we got a Pokemon that imitates an inanimate object in a way that’s totally organic and natural-looking way.

To tie all the theming up in a nice bow, they have a unique ability called Punk Rock, which increases the damage their sound-based moves do while halving the damage they take from the same kind of moves. Given that there's some Pokemon that are outright deaf with the ability Soundproof, it's easy to assume that Toxtricity unfortunately suffers from hearing loss. They can still hear, just not as well. Indeed, right under natural aging, the number 2 cause of hearing loss is listening to music too loudly. Much like punks are one to do. Turn down your music, kids!

That said, if I had to pick just one, I'd easily pick Amped just because it generally looks cooler and has a bolder color scheme. The only thing I'm less than sure on for these two is their “tails”... which rather than being tails are now just stiff extra-large spikes jutting out of their butt. And since I used a Toxtricity on my team, thus was looking at the backside of one for most of the game, yeah, hard to not notice. I would've much preferred a more normal tail that could've also had some spikes around the tip of it if you must carry the punk theming that far.

Also I'm not a fan of their name. “Toxtricity” is just toxic and electricity clumsily mashed together and it doesn't really roll off the tongue. Like, was that really the best localization could come up with?? If I had to take a crack at naming it, I would've called it Punkture or something similar.

Personal Score: 10/10

G-Max Toxtricity:

The two Toxtricities share a G-Max form that incorporates elements from them both. And hmm... I'm not as much of a fan of this G-Max, sadly. It's still cool, don't get me wrong, but the tesla coil look to the tail feels out of place and a bit more “generic electric type” imagery to me compared to all the electric guitar/bass theming the previous two had.

It's also huddled down on all fours. I'm sure some are happy about that much, and it helps differentiate it from its normal-sized self, but I felt like being anthro was a little vital to the line's theming, given it needed some free hands to strum its bumps. The spark eyes are also neat but the tired look just looks more amusing to me. Eh. Just every feature here feels “It's neat and all but the basic forms did it better.”

Oh, wait, there is ONE thing!

Its attack animations sees it pulling a literal electric guitar out and smashing its opponents with it. Now THAT is wicked cool!!

Personal Score: 9.5/10

[Archive]

#Pokemon #Toxel #Toxtricity #Pokemon Reviews #Gigantamax Toxtricity

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theateared · 5 years ago

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I Hope Your Days Get Better. ❜

Summary: He’s always had a soft spot for children.

“Son of a bitch…” he muttered as he tried to undo his laces in the dark. He wasn’t sure why he never switched the light on after coming home from work. It just seemed wrong-- as if the house was the thing he didn’t want to disturb as opposed to his sleeping family.

After wrestling his shoes off, he headed into the kitchen, flipping the light on only when the door to the room was shut. There was most definitely something left from dinner for him to pick at. Brielle always left him something when he was working late. After deducing that there was leftover stew in a pot, Edgar took to heating the hob and collapsing into the nearest chair, loosening his bow-tie almost immediately.

Work is amping up lately, he mused, staring at the ceiling with an unfocused look in his eyes All these extra hours are being sprung on me out of nowhere. I suppose it’s good for the bills, but…

But he missed Brielle and Augustus terribly. His wife was the kindest woman he had ever seen. Even when he’d originally met her with his typical standoffish front, she had shown him her smile and thawed the ice surrounding his heart. It wasn’t even that he was incredibly jaded… he just didn’t trust people easily. Being from Huron, it was easy to believe that everybody had his back, but he knew that wasn’t true. Nobody cared about him personally. Nobody really knew him as anything other than the talented broker down the road. He was fine with that.

His thoughts were derailed by a creak of the door. When he turned his head, he knew immediately who had come to greet him, a pair of round eyes peering at him through the crack.

“Gus?”

The door seemed to ease closed somewhat, as if he was trying to hide from him, before he gave in and stepped into the room properly. He was a dear looking child, only five* years old, one with dark hair from his mother and blue eyes from his father. Stood there in his pinstripe pyjamas, hands clasped behind his back, he looked up at him with his infamous puppy-dog eyes-- the infamous choice when trying to diffuse a situation.

Edgar’s gaze flitted momentarily to the clock. “What’re you doing up? You know it’s past midnight.”

The small boy hovered in place for a moment before bridging the distance between them, running to him with his arms outstretched, and Edgar didn’t have the heart to refuse him. I haven’t seen you all day. It feels like I haven’t seen you all month at the rate I’ve been called into the office. When he pulled him into his lap, Augustus immediately laid his head on his shoulder, burying his face into his hair before pulling back to look at him.

“Hi, daddy,” he said with a wide smile, one arm moving to reveal that he was holding something; a single white flower that Edgar presumed had been picked from the garden. “For you.”

It was nothing but a weed, the kind of thing that most people dug up immediately in order to stop them from spreading, but Edgar took it as if he’d been handed gold. “For me?”

“To go with your shirt,” his son replied with an eager nod.

That earned a smile - and when he smiled, Augustus smiled too. He never really saw him smile. He wasn’t mean at all, just scary-looking on the outside sometimes. The flower that was now tucked into his breast pocket helped alleviate that imagery a little bit.

When Edgar put him down atop the table, the boy did not fuss. He sat there swinging his legs, waiting for his father to finish filling a bowl with stew. Expectantly, he opened his mouth when Edgar took his seat once more, knowing he’d get at least one bite of something.

“So,” he started, spooning half of a potato into his son’s mouth. “What did you get up to today, hm? You didn’t get in any trouble, did you?”

Augustus grinned with his mouth full of potato, shaking his head in a way that made him look mischievous. “No! I helped mama in the garden!”

“Good lad,” Edgar said with a chuckle, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah! I de-weedied,” he continued, voice full of triumph.

He had to bite back a laugh at that, trying to keep a mouthful of vegetables from being sprayed everywhere. No matter how mundane the task he’d done was, he always found a way to entertain him with it, to spin some colourful story about how he was a good, heroic boy. As far as Edgar was concerned, he really was. He didn’t ever want his son to lose that sense of mysticism. Perhaps he wouldn’t be as excited to de-weed the garden in a century’s time but he would be excited for other things; better things.

“Did you?” he asked, putting on his best surprised voice. “That’s a big job. I bet mama couldn’t have done it.”

“Yeah! What did you do today?”

“Lots of math.”

Augustus’ nose wrinkled. “I hope daddy’s days get better.”

The man chuckled quietly. “As soon as I get home, they get better.”

The child beamed from ear to ear, opening his mouth again, only closing it when his father put some more potato into it. It was no secret that he missed his father often. Though he was a good dad-- the best, Augustus would argue-- work often kept him busy. It saw the youngster staying up way past his bedtime in the hope that he’d catch a glimpse of him every now and then. Weekends used to be his favourite before his job started to call him in then too; they’d always fly his kite together in the pastures, the wind carrying his paper vessel higher than the clouds. Not long now, kiddo, Edgar would tell him before leaving, ruffling his hair and telling him to ‘’be a good boy for mama’’. In an effort to make his dad happy, he’d always be on his very best behaviour. He was a good kid anyway, having been raised well, but he tried harder than most.

How long is ‘’not long now’’, daddy? Are you going to come home soon?

He whined as his father shifted, hands clutching onto his shoulders.

“Le’me wash up. Then I’ll take you to bed.”

“Nooo… don’t wanna go bed…”

Edgar chuckled softly, standing up with his boy in his arms. He clung to him very much like a koala would as he washed his plate, setting it aside on the drying rack before he regained a firm grip on him, head turned towards him. Augustus was pouting.

“I’ll read you a story,” he wagered, watching as the boy attempted to turn his head further away. “C’mon. I know you love stories. What do you want me to read?” One hand let go of him to tickle his tummy gently, causing him to laugh loudly. “Shhh…” he said with a giggle of his own, listening for a disturbance upstairs. When Brielle didn’t come stumbling down with her grump-face on, he determined it safe to begin the ascent to Augustus’ bedroom. The sign on his door always made him smile. While most childrens’ donned a comical ‘Do not enter’, Augustus’ sported a charming ‘Wipe your feet!’, a small dinosaur mat placed directly in front of his bedroom door. Even with no shoes on, Edgar made a point of doing so.

Putting him down on the bed, he pointed to the bookshelf beside it. “Choose a story while I get ready for bed.”

As his father left the room, Augustus knelt on the floor and began to search for his favourite book. He skimmed over titles like, ‘The Ugly Mew-Mew’ and ‘The Little Nebby’ before finally locating the title he was after. Blunder the Kayag: The Goldfish Fair. It had been his favourite since he was a baby. Even though Augustus would attest to the fact that he had ‘grown a lot!’, he’d wholeheartedly admit that this book had a special place in his big heart. It had a lot of room for a lot of things, but his family and his favourite books occupied the most space. Naturally, the story followed the misadventures of a canine creature that was appropriately named ‘Blunder’. Augustus had always wanted a Kayag because of this book, but his mother claimed they were ‘not pets’.

When Edgar returned, he took one look at the book and raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t I read this to you just last week?”

“I like this one,” the boy replied softly, a hand curling around his toes as he stared imploringly up at his father. There was a beat of silence before he raised his hands in defeat, a quiet ‘o-kay’ released before he plucked the book from his son’s hands, filing into bed with him. The youngster squirmed until he was comfortable, small body flat against his dad’s torso as he began to read.

Though he knew the tale inside and out ( all of them in fact, there were several instalments in the series that he was equally as familiar with ), whenever it was read to him, it felt like a new story. The words flowed like a song he once recalled; lyrics springing to mind while still sounding alien and new, and soon enough he began to feel tired. Eyes were slowly drooping closed, small fingers playing with the collar of his father’s shirt absentmindedly, and as Edgar reached the end of the story, he’d already fallen asleep.

Quietly, Edgar closed the book and placed it on the nightstand, right beside his clock and his crudely-shaped dinosaur lamp. He turned off the light with a soft click, though when he went to get up, Augustus whimpered, clinging even in his sleep.

The poor thing, Edgar thought as he settled back down. My work schedule must be frying his nerves. He must think I’m going to disappear for good one day. He isn’t like Brielle - he doesn’t know I’m coming home.

A hand stroked through his son’s thick hair tenderly, brain whirring. His birthday’s coming soon… I can use the extra cash to get him something nice. Perhaps a new kite. Or some more books. And then I can dump these extra shifts. The last thing I want to do is make my family unhappy.

He fell asleep thinking about how best to decline calls once Augustus’ special day had passed.

#🞮 — if i could i'd trade my heart for a second brain. ❜ ( edgar. )#☆ — i never promised you your dream boy. ❜ ( main. )#☆ — i'm just here to destroy. ❜ ( ic. )#drabble *#/ HOH W OW #I LOVE GOING INTO EDGAR'S PAST WHOHHHHHWHEEE

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loki-fanfic-whore · 6 years ago

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Consumed ch.7

Warnings: adult situations, blood, horrifying imagery, bad grammar

@onceuponagleepottermindlock @jessiejunebug @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 @imagine-that-100 @drakesfiance

Chapter 7 Oblivion

Thor was covered in thick furs and still shivered from the freezing temperatures. He climbed up treacherous mountains until finally he came to the large ornate palace of gold and gems. The Jotun were known for their lavish taste.

He ascended the stairs and pushed the front door open to ascertain Lokis whereabouts. His brother, and the ruler of Jotunheim, Helbindi would know. The scene before him caused even the God of thunder to gasp.

Loki stood trembling covered in blood. He was panting and angrily glared at the pile of bodies beneath his feet.

"Bow or I will gut you and eat your entrails." He roared at the remaining giants. His hands glowing a deep green. The remaining guards and diplomats fell to their knees and bowed till their foreheads touched the ground.

"Loki-" thor called cautiously.

Loki turned and stared at his brother.

"Helbindi is dead. I snapped his neck and ripped his spine out. This realm and everyone within it...is mine!" He was putting on theatrics. Thor knew him all to well.

"Loki you have to come with me." Thor called as he stepped towards the angry god.

Býleister ran towards him with a blade pulled. Loki stepped back and flung the giant against a stone wall pushing him through it. Loki winced as a dagger flew into his ribs. Hissing he pulled the dagger out and let it clatter on the ground. Thor moved beside Loki and quickly deflected another dagger.

"Loki you have no claim to this realm. Just because you were Laufeys bastard means nothing to our people!" Býleister appeared from the crater in the wall. Loki tackled him and slit his throat, blood splattering his face.

"And yet, this realm is mine now." He whispered into the gurgling and sputtering giants ear. He was visibly shaking now.

Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder. Loki sighed and whispered under his breath.

"I'd kill everyone in all the realms if it made her happy."

"Loki- lady embers needs you...urgently brother." Thor stressed the urgently part. Loki barked orders at the guards to clean everything up and get ready for his return. He appointed a diplomat to act in his stead and then turned to follow Thor.

"Brother your wound is angry..." thor reached out to touch Loki's chest. Loki caught his hand.

"Let me hurt. I need to feel something." Loki snarled the warning.

"Go to her Loki...she needs you...they need you."

Loki stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel glaring at Thor.

"...they?" Was all he said before Thor called upon the bifrost.

Your eyes flitted backwards in their sockets as you felt yourself falling...wait that wasnt right..you weren't falling...you were...floating? Groaning you tried to open your eyes only to feel them sting. The light too bright for you see.

"Try not to move. I know it's hard, and probably painful, but we needed to act quickly. You are suspended in a viscous liquid that is aiding your body in healing. Think of it like cryogenics, you are lucid but you aren't really aging...it was the only way to keep you alive right now." You could tell it was Bruce's voice, soft and sweet as he tried to keep you from panicking.

You raised a shaky hand and felt your belly, distended and round under your hand you let a sob escape.

"We managed to save the child. Your wall was badly torn. It's why you were placed into the tank. It helps keep the weight off of your womb. I need you to try to respond. You have a mask apparatus on your face, less like the mouth guard used last time, more like a divers mask. Can you open your eyes and try to describe what you see?" Bruce spoke in a soft gentle voice trying hard not to scare you. If your heart rate spiked even the slightest it could terminate the pregnancy and possibly even your own life.

You groaned gently as your eyes opened a sliver.

"It's bright." You spoke hoarsely. Your throat felt like a sandbox and your tongue was sandpaper.

"Oh shit, sorry, let me dim the lights." You could hear a whirring noise as everything became dark around you.

You opened your eyes more and could see you were in the lab. True to his words you were suspended in a tank of dark blue liquid. It felt much thicker than water though and made it hard for you to move.

"I'm- I'm inside your lab. The water is dark blue...and I'm-" you looked down to see your skin was ebony with bright red cracks across it. Your belly was covered in a beautiful design of these cracks, small slivers of light seeping through as if you illuminated from within.

"I'm in my muspel form right now." You finished.

Bruce approached the tank and smiled.

"Good. I'm glad your vision wasn't affected. Can you hear alright? Touch? What about taste?" He was asking for all of your senses to make sure everything was okay.

"Well to be honest my mouth is a desert Bruce, and I can hear as well as before. I can feel my belly. I can feel the baby." Your voice cracked gently as you felt the shifting within your belly. Tears pricked your eyes.

"Do you remember what happened? Just before waking up?" He asked, your mind was blank, you tried hard to think, but nothing came.

"The reason for all of the questions is because-"

"Bruce we need you in the landing bay immediately. They have returned." The voice was Tony's and it made your heart rate rise. Who was they? Where had they gone? Bruce sighed and smiled at you.

"Hold that thought... please let me know if you have any questions while I'm away."

You were alone in the tank and felt your brain begin to wander.

Who was back? Perhaps the avengers had returned from a mission. That answer didn't seem to fit well enough for your liking. You felt utterly confused, you were missing something. Forgetting something, but you couldn't think of what it was. Your heartrate was rising due to the stress of pushing yourself to remember.

"Take a deep breath sweetheart. It'll all be okay." Natasha's sweet voice filled your ears.

"Nat..." you spoke breathlessly.

"I'm forgetting something." You fidgeted within your tank.

"You need to stay calm. Your baby needs you to stay calm. Please just talk to me. Maybe we can work through it together." Natasha pulled a chair up to the tank and sat infront of you. She smiled and pantomimed deep breathing.

You breathed in and out...a memory flashing into your mind...

'Just breathe...in...and out...' it was so fuzzy and hazy, but it definitely was a man.

"Sweetheart?" Natasha cooed gently putting a hand to the tank.

"I-I saw a man...telling me to breathe." You mumbled as you closed your eyes willing the memory to unfog. Natasha frowned,

"What exactly do you remember before waking up in the tank?"

"I-I remember blood...and thinking I had lost my baby..."

"Do you remember who the father is?" Natasha was cautious with her phrasing.

You squinted and thought hard, a fuzzy image appearing, but you honestly couldn't make out any features.

"No...I cant remember..." you whispered feeling your belly shift.

"Its okay. That's perfectly okay...he isn't in the picture anymore anyway. Please, excuse me, I need to find Bruce. It's time for your medicine." She quickly hurried out of the lab to tell Bruce before Loki could get to you.

#loki (marvel)#loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #im sorry #loki #slow burn #but i hate everything i write #thor odinson #bad grammar

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ironforgedrp · 5 years ago

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♛ BRANDEN STARK

↳ details; male, 37. (b. 469AC) ↳ status; pansexual, unmarried, bastard twins evalin & lyanna snow (b.495AC) ↳ faceclaim; viggo mortensen. ↳ hails from; winterfell, the north. ↳ loyalty; house stark, his family.

↳ title; lord of winterfell, warden of the north. ↳ religion; the old gods of the forest. ↳ magical ability; confident greenseer. ↳ spoken languages; the common tongue, a few insults in bastard valyrian ↳ reason in sunspear; after his fathers death he has taken the mantle as head of house stark

♛ PERSONALITY

↳ type; the architect ↳ alignment; lawful neutral ↳ star sign; capricorn. ↳ positives; strategist, loyal, protective, determined, fierce, formidable. ↳ negatives; stubborn, temperamental, narrow-sighted, proud, vengeful, often taciturn.

♛ BIOGRAPHY

↳ family lineage.

when lord rickken and lady alysandra stark announced the birth of their first child, a healthy dark-haired son, it should have been a joyous occasion for all starks and for the northen bannermen ━ but it was overshadowed by the poison of a blood feud. the then babe branden, named in honour of the legendary founder of house stark, would find out as he grew that a horrid fight of jealousy and bitterness of lineage had split his family in two, but he soon learned that his uncle edderion was an unreasonable and bitter man who was simply angry that he was born second. branden didn’t lament the lack of his uncle, he was never there anyway. whilst often taciturn and appearing lost in his own thoughts, the eldest stark was a sponge for all things offered to him; fighting skills, tutoring with the maesters, lessons from his mother on the spiritual aspects of her house, reed, and his fathers house, stark. he never truly understood why as a younger boy, but curious events and visions and other unexplainable things had happen to branden by the time he was ten, and it was around this time that his mother explained to branden that what he truly was, was a greenseer.

rare, but not completely unheard of, branden had been ‘gifted’, as his mother called it, with abilities of foresight. whilst the last known true greenseer had been noted in the history books as a man of house reed - his mothers house, there was also the notion of the three-eyed-raven brandon stark of more than two centuries ago. holed up in his room, the young branden poured over the stories to understand what this would mean for him and his future. when alysandra took branden to see his father, and explained what had come to pass with their eldest ━ it simply bolstered lord rickken pride and favouritism of his eldest. he became obsessed with having branden write down every dream the moment he woke and as branden often muttered and mumbled in his sleep, lord rickken would have the maester or the septa sit over him at night and make note of anything that branden would utter in his sleep. it was on one of these nights that the fates turned the wheel in a way that no one would have expected. in a dream that he wrote about when he woke up, the vague imagery of a living statue carving down branches of an ancient weirwood tree and as each branch fell he described hearing a scream of a name. the names, however, he could not say for the memory was too hazy. he wrote of wolves, two wolves who were not quite twins - one larger, howling at the moon, and a smaller one following suit as the thunk of branches of the godswood became louder and louder. and then, it was a roar of a beast, a gnashing of bloodied fangs and a crown made of snow and ice resting upon each of the wolves heads. he’d woken in a cold sweat, and the journaling of the dream was taken away as the others had been. branden, a young boy who was not sure of the consequences, never took much note of that night ━ of course, he never knew of what he’d muttered while he was dreaming. his father did, though - or he thought he did, and took it as a prophecy that only he was able to fulfil. his son would rule as king in the north, and all would bow to the wolf again as long as he was able to father another child blessed with the gifts of the old gods as branden had been.

this came to pass in another son, brandens younger brother who was born when branden was ten. the sweet-faced young boy named harrion was the last trueborn stark boy that was born and it was clear from early on that he was a boy with gifts like branden. though not a greenseer, as their rarity was high, but a warg; the little stark wolf-boy branden had dubbed him, and rickken was elated. in his mind, his future was set in the lineage and gifts of two of his sons. in truth, branden had been all but blind to his fathers favouritism, but rickken was never cruel to his other children so branden perhaps never noticed. the winterfell heir always had a strong bond with his mother, who when he was older, had revealed that his maternal grandmother was gifted with foresight, not a greenseer as branden was, but a woman of house reed with greensight. they kept that secret between the two, and no one aside from the maester, his parents and the eldest septa knew of branden’s greenseer ability. keeping it hidden for years, he became a master of being able to cope with any side effects; his body would tell him if a vision was to come and he could excuse himself. branden never took much notice of his fathers obsession of any dreams or visions his eldest had, and though they were not as frequent as his childhood, he accepted that his father was simply fascinated by the rarity of his gifts. branden was humbled by it, and he became very spiritual about the old gods and the old ways as a way to thank them.

down the line, a marriage deal was made for harrion with a targaryen girl of a similar age who hailed from dragonstone - the niece of the reigning king maegor targaryen. lord rickken and lady alysandra were quite happy with the match, and though branden only met the young targaryen a handful of times, his brother seemed quite smitten as youngsters often did. branden was into his twenties when all this was coming together, wedding scheduled and plans made - lord rickken elated in thinking that brandens vision from his youth would now come to pass. it was in 494AC, tragedy struck and rattled the bones of house stark when the young lord harrion was up on the turrets of winterfell, looking out to to the sprawling godswood when a violent wind swept from behind him, causing him to tumble to his death, having only turned fifteen years old in the recent days. the layer of grief that settled over winterfell was as thick as a blanket of torrential snow. the funeral, branden could hardly remember, he only remembered his mothers broken-hearted wailing cry and the ache of his lost brother. it was nearly a full year later when another curve ball was thrown to house stark; their perfect heir returned from winter town with two pale, yellow-haired babes... his daughters by a wildling woman, who had abandoned them with a note that simply said the babes were his, she was returning beyond the wall and had no plans to return nor did she wish branden to search for her. he would not let his own flesh and blood starve. joining house stark were the young girls evalin & lyanna snow who grew up raised by the septas and doted on by their father.

growing up in the blood feud between his uncle and father, being a greenseer, the relentless drive of his fathers obsessive ambition and the untimely death of his brother was enough strain on branden. however, come the invitation to the capital for the celebration of the lannister prince, lord rickken’s health took a negative turn and branden attended in his stead. attending the capital for the celebration of the birth of the lannister prince proved to be horrible and the most challenging event of branden’s life as the northern heir. his uncle revealed as traitor to not only his own family but to the iron throne and all of westeros, branden felt the eyes of the entire kingdom turn to him with suspicion and distrust. it was not something he was very fond of, but as a logical man he knew why - it wasn’t though the north had a pleasant history house lannister, but that was one of the reasons why branden approached the lannister king and volunteered as the crowns champion to have his uncle executed for his crimes; the winterfell heir was more than happy to have been the one to condemn him to death. he was fairly certain that his father would scream at him til he was hoarse for entering a trial by combat without formally asking permission, but he had not failed in his duty.

returning home to deliver the news of what had had happened, branden found his lord father’s health had deteriorated rapidly and he was weak, pale, and his mother explained that lord rickken had been in the godswood by winterfell when he was attacked by the guards of his late brothers widow in a failed attempt to retaliate for branden’s victory over her husbands champion. though rickken had made it back to winterfell, he was barely alive. the lord of winterfell died within the week, leaving branden as the new warden of the north. bubbling with rage, he wrote to the crown and informed them of what had happened, and informed them that his lord father had been attacked by the widow of barrowton and, as the warden of the north, he formally requested the crown hold the barrowton widow responsible for her crimes. she was executed by that years end and the branch of the barrowton starks exiled; barrow hall handed to house stout of goldgrass to be castellan over.

branden spent the next months pouring over records, plans and histories applicable to the north - including correspondence with the ruling lord mormont regarding magical bloodlines, which has lead him to wonder if house mormont also holds some power from the old gods. branden is comfortable with the north still loyal to the iron throne, and until given reason otherwise he has no plans to rescind from the iron throne.

↳ personality.

he is nothing if not a proud stark, he is proud of his namesake and of his lineage. he is proud of his father and mother, and proud of himself. though always short spoken branden has a great amount of affection for his siblings and half-siblings, even if he doesn’t say so often. his pride often leads to his anger, or arguments, or even debates over jugs of ale.

he’s a strategist, and a master of slipping by people ━ a habit born of his secrecy in his greenseeing. he wants to bring honour back to the north as his father had always aimed to but his visions for the north are somewhat different now that he has been in the middle of literal political upheaval and chaos. being a father made him softer and more serious, his pride in his house and lands has sanded the edges of branden, the rambunctious young man, into a northern heir worthy of the name.

↳ splitting of the kingdoms.

as most starks do, he held and still does hold a great and many dubious opinions on house lannister, and definitely believes that he would have made a finer ruler should the queens late father had chosen him. however, he cannot honestly say that the north would be better rescinding from the iron throne so eagerly as the other kingdoms have… everything must have a strategy, and a second plan if the original were to fail and that is what his feelings are in regards to the summit. in time, maybe.

he is glad to be the one as the spearhead of the northern party, but he also can’t deny that the north has not suffered under the iron throne and having the crown’s belief in him and his house, despite his uncles treason.

♛ STATUS: TAKEN.

#( queue )#tee.#house stark.#taken.#taken male.#North.

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awfully-sadistic · 6 years ago

Text

Duos and Profiles

“Can you tell me a little about you guys?”

Dante and Vergil’s heads worked in unison looking up and over at Dante’s desk. Dante’s office was currently empty, the paranormal investigator vigilante had found himself out of work today so he was in the midst of closing up early. With what boasted a pretty mundane day, he was looking forward to getting out of the slums of New Senzannini and swinging by the Haus property to relax with the rest of the Family for the evening. He wasn’t wrong about plotting his office down here, he got a constant stream of work and there were always demons around. He was needed and he worked separately from Helen’s branch of whatever she did within the government that if she needed his help with something, he wasn’t held back by any of the red tape.

It felt nice to go back to his roots. Seeing his brother around occasionally and the two not wanting to kill each other was also a plus. Things in New Senzannini were pretty damn nice and Dante got used to the lifestyle really quickly.

Despite that, he was still surprised to see Dot Dreadful at his office door when he opened it to step outside. Behind her stood a reluctant looking Vergil who used his larger frame to hide Dot from the wandering eyes of the occupants who called this seedy underbelly home. Murder Row didn’t sound nice but it was nice for business and that was all that mattered to Dante. He never expected either of the girls to make the trip down to see him, though. It’d be unsafe and not to mention, the higher ups within the Family would have his hide and they, no doubt, would be in serious trouble for making this trip unannounced. Obviously, Dot thought ahead and had brought Vergil with her.

From what he knew and what he remembered about Dot (which was everything, come on, this was Dot), she was a sap for estranged siblings getting along. While Dante and Vergil have a strained relationship, they do try to get along for the girls. However, sometimes grudges just won over ties and other times, the ties won.

It seemed today, the ties won.

He had let them both inside and closed the door behind them.

Locked it, too. Just in case.

Dot had explained that Helen had asked the girls to compile a couple of profiles for the two brothers and while Monica would have done it, she thought it was the perfect opportunity to allow her to get to know the brothers better. So Dot came alone with a couple of manila folders stating that she didn’t think these profiles meant anything bad; it was probably The Society’s attempt to keep things ordered or whatever. She wasn’t too sure. All she knew was that Helen needed these profiles and only Helen was going to keep them.

Dante didn’t have a problem with that and it didn’t seem like Vergil did, either. His brother had been unusually quiet throughout this explanation so he must have heard it beforehand. He didn’t have anything to do with Dante’s paranormal hunting business but he was exterminating demons on his own. He just worked better alone.

Dante had offered Dot his desk while he made himself comfortable at his bar. Vergil sat at the opposite end of the room (figures) on the couch with a coffee table that held a lot of ancient magazines that hadn’t been relevant in seven years.

“What part of the profiling does that benefit?” Dante asked with a smirk. He was pouring his fourth whiskey glass.

“Oh,” Dot laughed a little nervously, “I’m at this last bit at the bottom with “additional notes” and I don’t know what else to put so I’m outright asking.”

“Straight to the point,” Dante further grinned and pointed his drink at her. Next, he swung it back and finished by slamming it on the counter top. “I like that.”

Everything about this man was dramatic as fuck. But it made Dot smile. Vergil only rolled his eyes. He would have claimed he was used to his brother’s theatrics but he never stuck around long to hang out with him. So everything he found Dante to do was so incredibly unnecessary and a wasted effort.

“What exactly were you looking for?” Vergil finally spoke up. Dot found it hard to keep her gaze locked with the more serious Vergil. It was ironic because despite the brothers having the same eyes, they both elicit a different reaction from her with their staring. She cleared her throat and ducked her head down using the profile as a means to break contact.

“I don’t know...” she frowned with a soft hrm to follow her statement. “Just... random trivia, I guess.”

Vergil exchanged a glance with Dante. It was clear the both of them were also thinking of what they could supply Dot with that they haven’t told her already.

“When we were younger, I convinced Dante to be afraid of his own shadow.”

Dante choked on his fifth whiskey, violently hacking and pounding on his chest to clear his airway. “What the FUCK?”

Dot laughed, her head snapping up as she looked between the brothers with a mixture of sympathy and glee. “What? How?”

Vergil had a faint smirk on his mouth. He was clearly enjoying this. “I used to tell Dante stories about his shadow. One of them being that if he ever took his eyes off of it, it would creep up behind him and--”

“STOP!” Dante shouted, holding a hand up. His white head was bowed and he was still semi-coughing through that delicious hot, stinging burn. “You son of a bitch. It took me years to be able to get over that.”

“I believe you were in your twenties when you finally stopped avoiding your shadow.”

“YOUR STORIES WERE CREEPY AS SHIT.” Dante’s head finally lifted and he didn’t look none too happy. “Like you! You’re creepy as shit--DOT, STOP WRITING THAT DOWN!”

Dot’s pen clattered and she squealed in laughter, hunching over her profiles. “What!? I have to! It’s the rules!”

“Bullshit!” Dante countered, “You don’t listen to the rules!”

“You don’t know, Dante! You don’t know!”

“Vergil, tell me I’m right.”

“You don’t know, Dante.”

Dante’s expression would have fell to the floor with how fast his expression dropped into a deadpan. “Did you know that fuck laughs without smiling when he’s making fun of you? It’s fucking weird, right? Look, he’s doing it right now!”

Dot looked over at Vergil and true to what Dante said, Vergil sounded like he was laughing. Very faintly. But there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah. Fuck you, Vergil.” A pause and then, “Goddamn it, Dot, stop writing that down!”

“I HAVE TO RECORD THIS FOR HELEN!” she shouted. For Helen and she was having a good time.

“WHAT IS HELEN GOING TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION?!”

“Dante once babysat a child and its first words were pizza babe.”

“What?!” Dot laughed incredulously.

“Oh, I remember that.” Dante said fondly. Vergil’s distraction worked and allowed Dot to finish writing all this new information. But, by now, the brothers were determined to make each other look like fools in front of Dot.

“Well, Vergil can’t hold his liquor.”

“Dante cheats at card games. Don’t play with him.”

“Vergil likes chess like a fucking nerd.”

“Dante threw a beehive into his own bedroom.”

“Vergil won’t drink cough syrup!”

“Wait, wait!” Dot gestured wildly, “What the hell was that last one?”

“Vergil won’t drink cou--”

“No, the beehive one!”

Vergil smirked openly while Dante groaned. “When we were younger and still living at home with Mother, Dante and I got into an argument. He stormed off, angry. He had the bright idea to throw a beehive into my bedroom but got the wrong window.”

“In my defense, we had a lot of windows.”

Dot had her face in her arms which rested on the surface of the desk. She was laughing so hard, she was wheezing. Seeing Dot in this way caused Dante to chuckle which prompted Vergil to join in. Soon, all three of them were laughing up a storm and sharing embarrassing childhood memories. Needless to say, Dot got a lot of good information out of the two that consisted of a lot of their childhood. Perhaps more than what anyone has heard before. It was surprisingly that for as much as Dante and Vergil kept up their love/hate relationship, the fact that they were brothers and were close was blatantly obvious. Dot beamed brightly, watching the two interact and reminiscence about this and that, stories she didn’t quite understand but was easily enough to catch up and laugh along with them. And they were sweet enough to keep her in the loops, involving her in their past and weaving vivid imagery and scenes that played out like movies in her mind.

By the time the laughter had died down, Dante was slumped over his bar with a massive headache and his abs hurt like nobody’s business. “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a long time.”

Even Vergil was openly smiling. It was soft and distant, but it was there. “Mm.”

Dot neatly piled the papers together into her folder and tapped it onto the desk. “Thank you boys so much for the info. I’m sure Helen will appreciate these.” She left out the part that where all of the information devolved into humorous stories and hijinks Helen probably wouldn’t be interested in but she kept them in there anyway because she was sentimental like that.

Dante stood up from the bar and walked around his desk where he helped Dot out of his chair. Dot gave him a grateful smile and he hooked her hand under his arm.

“Now that we’re done, we’re going back to the Haus, right?” Dante asked, looking down at the slight woman at his side. With her nod, his smile widened. “Great. Verge and I will be abso-fucking-lutely glad to walk ya home.” He paused, “Wait, you guys didn’t walk here, did you?”

Vergil scoffed as he stood up as well, hitching his katana back onto his side. “That would have been stupid. Of course we didn’t.”

Dot clarified to soften Vergil’s statement, “We took one of the Haus town cars!” then she lowered her voice as if someone were listening from the outside, “With our insignia on the door, the people around here would know to leave us alone.”

“Well shit, I should put one of those on my door.” Dante said, leading Dot to it. “You wouldn’t believe how many kooks I get waltzing in thinking their tweaked out minds are seeing demons when the only ones they’re witnessing are inside their heads.”

Vergil looked incredibly offended as he ushered the two out of the office and shut the door behind them; he didn’t bother to ask Dante to lock it since he figured there was nothing worth stealing in there, anyhow. “The sooner we leave this place, the better.” He wasn’t a fan of Murder Row. Or anywhere Dante hung out, really.

“You really should,” Dot told Dante as he led her towards the car he now realized was parked at the side of his office. True to what Dot had said, people were leaving it alone and that said a lot in a place like this. And he entirely understood his brother’s earlier protective demeanor over Dot. Gawkers and onlookers were Nosy Nancy’s and Curious Carl’s once Dot stepped out and into the public. It set Dante’s teeth on edge and he was more open to show his annoyance about it, too. He opened the car door for Dot, allowing her to get inside; he might have hurried it because the faster she was inside, these creeps would have nothing to look at. They were lucky to even get a glimpse of leg as she slide inside. Dante was next, shifting Dot so she could sit in between the brothers. Vergil brought up the rear and he shut the door behind him and soon enough, they were on the way back to Haus grounds.

Familiar grounds.

“Thanks again for the help!” Dot brought up to ensure the boys knew how much it was appreciated they cooperated with Helen. But Helen knew what she was doing by asking the girls for this favor--the members of the Haus would have done anything for them.

Dante’s arm came around the back of Dot’s seat. His care-free and laid back demeanor was one of his trademarks and he looked absolutely comfortable and at home in the backseat of this car. “Anytime, sugar.”

Vergil nodded his agreement slipping into his demeanor of quiet, detached coolness. The only one he was even warm to and open with were the girls and Dante, given the brother wasn’t pressing any of his buttons. One of the ways he showed his affection was with the closeness as he sat next to Dot. He wouldn’t just touch anyone and didn’t tolerate anyone touching him, but gentle bumps against her shoulder as the car roamed down the highway were the indication he didn’t mind whatsoever Dot was in his space and he, in hers.

The brothers might have hated each other one day and then loved each other the next, but there was one thing that was a constant: they loved Dot all the time and unconditionally.

#{{ original drabbles: on the spot #{{ ugh

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someobscurereference · 7 years ago

Text

(Another scene from a fic I’ll probably never write. The imagery has always stuck with me though.)

“Wake up.”

It was the softest of whispers from a voice part of Odin believed he would never hear again.

The cage swayed ever so slightly from its chain as Odin jerked awake. It was not the comforting rock of a parent soothing their child, nor the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean waves. The cage was hard and cold, and there was barely enough room for Odin to stretch his legs out all the way when he pressed his back to its gilded bars.

He slept lightly these days, and for a moment after he opened his eyes, he was disappointed to only find the same golden bars surrounding him, the same cracked stone walls that stood even further beyond that, though now the light of the candles was dimmer than he remembered it being. Odin had to strain his eyes a little to see in the dim light, but the result was unmistakable. Nothing had changed.

Presumably the candles had been darkened to simulate night time. Presumably, because Odin was sure Anankos did not sleep, though there were strange quiet periods he fell into after a tantrum that even Odin’s musings could not stir him from. The dim light may have been for show, for human comfort, but Odin had no idea what use a dragon would have for human anything.

Disappointment churned in his chest. He shoved it away, slumping back against the bars. There was no use getting disappointed over nothing.

Two days he had been here, and now his mind had begun to taunt him with phantom memories. How cruel, he mused.

“Odin,” the familiar voice said again. Quietly, as though wary of alerting the beast that lay only a few feet away.

Odin jerked again. He pulled his legs under himself and peered over the side of the cage, disbelieving he would find anyone there even as his eyes told him otherwise.

“Niles?” Odin hissed, careful to keep his voice low. He blinked, sure the visage of Niles would disappear as he did. It did not. “What are you doing here?”

Cockily, Niles said, “What does it look like?”

The way he nervously glanced over to Anakos’s lumbering form betrayed his mask of confidence. Anankos was not turned towards them, but that did not mean he was deaf. Whether or not his eyes were open was irrelevant. Odin had no idea if the dragon even slept. Anankos could have easily heard Niles approach.

And yet he had done nothing.

If Anankos were truly listening, then he was biding his time for something, Odin thought. He anxiously caught Niles’s gaze once more.

“Why did you come here?” Odin asked, thoughts still spinning. He was half sure he was still asleep. “Where are the others?”

“One scout is swifter than twenty,” Niles said. “And quieter. How do we get you out of here?”

He asked the question, but Odin could plainly see him eyeing the large padlock that served to trap Odin in the human-sized birdcage.

Odin gaped.

Niles was a tall man and he stood more or less eye level with the base of the cage, but the fact the cage was anchored into the ceiling was his downfall. Odin was simply suspended too far above the ground to open the lock silently. If Niles climbed the cage to reach the padlock, his weight would have made the cage sway noisily, alerting the sentries and no doubt Anankos to what was going on, if they didn’t know already.

Niles had to have already known that, Odin thought. He was a smart man.

It was much too risky to attempt. It was half the reason Odin had not broken himself out already, the other half being that he had never been one for picking locks and he also had a dragon standing watch over him twenty-four hours a day.

Not that the dragon seemed to have swayed Niles so far.

Still.

“You have to leave,” Odin stressed, careful to keep his voice low, “before anyone finds out you’re here.”

“I didn’t come all this way to leave empty-handed,” Niles said. “Besides, Lord Leo and your meddlesome friends worry about you.”

The news both warmed and saddened Odin’s heart to hear, but he couldn’t afford to spare them any thought. His mind raced.

Odin said, “You’ve come, you’ve seen, you can report back to Lord Leo about all you have witnessed here about the guard rotation and the castle layout. Now you must go.”

“There is no guard rotation,” Niles said bluntly. “They’re all undead.”

Oh, how Odin wished to banter with him. Niles had a sharp tongue and wit to spare, but there was simply no time. Especially since he could see Niles’s fingers twitching like he wanted to grab his lockpicks or his bow. Possibly both.

“You are behaving like me,” Odin said. He was both teasing and serious. “You are acting too boldly. What would Lord Leo say if you got yourself captured too?”

“He’d give us the tongue-lashing of a lifetime when we returned.” Niles shot Odin a brief smirk. “So we had best do everything we can to avoid that. Is there any way to lower this cage?”

His cage was raised a mere six feet off the floor—a paltry distance for a dragon—but Niles eyed the cage like it was the scum of the earth.

“Not without alerting everyone and their brother that you’re here.” Odin glanced worriedly at Anankos. He had not shifted. “Niles, please, you must turn back. Don’t risk getting caught.”

“The only one putting us at risk is you with your constant chatter,” Niles said, suddenly scowling. It was apparent that he didn’t appreciate Odin’s uncharacteristic pleas to flee, but Odin had no other choice.

Still, Niles had a point. Odin’s mouth snapped shut.

Niles slowly circled the cage, glancing about every now and then to make sure no one else was sneaking into the chamber while they were distracted. It was a very big hall. Odin would have seen them coming from a distance, but he was admittedly also distracted as well, watching Niles eye him.

Odin’s legs were beginning to ache even more than they had already been aching the past few days, but he refused to move. He did not want to jostle the cage again and risk calling attention to himself with Niles in the line of fire.

Frowning, Niles stopped and said, “Why would the beast keep you in a cage anyway? Why not just kill you like everyone else?”

That—was a good question, but also a complicated one. A question Odin was not inclined to answer even under the best circumstances, assuming his guesses were even correct. He shook his head.

“I do not deign to decipher the innerworkings of a mad beast,” he whispered. Niles was looking at the padlock again, but his eyes felt heavy on Odin all the same. Odin averted his gaze. “Niles, you can come back later. Don’t do this now.”

“We don’t know what that monster will do to you later,” Niles countered.

“I’ll still be here in this cage. Nothing will change.”

“Are you telling me you like being in there?”

“No, but—”

They both stared at each other, wide-eyed, as a low rumble resounded throughout the cavern. A rumble that Odin had heard plenty of times before as Anankos roused himself from one of his trances.

“Go,” Odin mouthed.

Niles hesitated. Odin did not think he had ever seen Niles hesitate before.

Then he ran.

#my fic #fe14 #niles #odin #anankos #I wanted to finish this last night but I ended up sleeping instead

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