#she won’t save herself though she’s doomed

[kaitlyn-pink]

What's your Summoner ambitious? Like what's their dream?

It’s pretty easy to answer since every game she’s in has one purpose, but there’s a couple dreams or end goals for her so I’ll rank them most important to least.

1. Protecting everyone.

-This always has included friends, children, women, sometimes men but mainly innocents and those who don’t have the strength or courage to defend themselves. It’s what she’s always stood for and by.

-She has strong morals and her duty mainly consists of saving the world, yeah, but also protecting innocent people who have been suffering or injured.

-This also is a dream of hers because when she was a child and in the beginning of her adventures she failed to save people. Multiple times. She doesn’t want that repeating and she’s willing to sacrifice herself, body mind and soul, (quite literally on all 3,) to do so.

-This does however tend to end up with her accidentally overworking herself until she’s about to drop and past that point, but it’s all she’s really ever known and it’s to the point she craves violence and the urge to kill. But just enemies and threats, don’t worry.

2. She won’t say it, but to be the strongest.

-She’s plenty strong now; an insanely powerful sorceress, a dark knight, a multi-class wielder, an omnicrafter, a knight, she saved a world from an apocalypse, she’s a highly respected person who can fight and kill anything and anyone, someone who can kill you in an instant despite your size strength or power without you even seeing it, a one woman army and much more that leads people to either admire or fear her.

-She wants to be strong and overpowered enough to kill and defeat anything or anyone threatening her people. She’s willing to achieve it through any means; dark magic, learning forbidden knowledge, extensive training and battling, pushing herself past her limit, traveling everywhere to find new threats and defeat them,

-I won’t say from which game or lore-dump on it but defeat to a foe that was unreasonably strong and killed hundreds maaaaybe had a lil effect on her. Her only fear is losing what remains of her humanity by becoming so detached and powerful. 2 other reasons are comments from others.

-She’s compared to others sometimes because of her duty and quests, if not called weaker than them and lumped together. She wants to be strong enough and well-known enough to be seen as her own person instead of a successor or replacement of someone. It doesn’t bother her that much but at times it gets under her skin when someone makes an off handed comment saying she’s just like someone. As if they’re equals.

-She maybe kinda got called weak even after she saved a different world and was saving a new one flawlessly because someone was stronger than her (Ahem cough whitehairguy1.) To be fair they didn’t know about a different world or what she’s been through, but she’s made it her goal to be stronger than him. (I’m pretty sure she is.) She got a bad taste in her mouth and a bit hurt after a few of the comments, and despite looking up to him (she won’t admit it because she’s shy about it) and respecting him, she wants to be the strongest. Just in case.

-The other one is the influence her mother had on her as a child as she got raised and taught a bunch of poor information and things that were just.. wrong.

But regardless of all that, she stays strong, quiet, calm, and kind to everyone. When people worry she reassures them because she sees nothing wrong with the way she’s living. All she wishes, out of pure innocence and good intentions, is to be the strongest and protect everyone. Out of any human, demon, or unearthly being, she must always come out on top as the victor. After all, how will she save everyone if she’s not?

[deadsetobsessions]

Between the whole “clone trying to kill her original version” thing and the whole “trying to find herself after being freed from the millionaire fruit loop halfa” thing, Danielle “Ellie” Phantom figured that she’d fit right in with Gotham.

They’ve got shades, a concerning amount of undead, and the people there seem to have traumatic backstories galore. Perfect.

Danny might die again if she told him where she’s staying, though. So she won’t tell him!

Ellie touched down in an alley near the first bus stop into Gotham, returning to the visible spectrum and returning her intangibility. She wanted to explore everything, and where better to start than the entrance of Gotham?

She slips out of the alley, walking past the terrified looking tourists. Ellie ignores the smell of soot they gave off, attributing correctly that it came from the explosion she heard before she approached Gotham. The city, like any other major city, was littered with trash and odd bits of metal. There’s graffiti too, but less so than the sunnier cities. The clouds- and smog, because Ellie could smell it miles away from the city- that obscured the sky left the city in a chilling atmosphere. Hazy. Like, a graveyard at dawn. Perfect for someone like Ellie.

It’s so different from Amity, stone where she dreaded plaster, gloom and doom where she dreaded seeing sunshine she couldn’t reach. 

Ellie wandered, under bridges, and in between paths. She danced through shootouts, glides past brawls, laughs when pick pockets find their hands empty after bumping into her.

She gets a coffee and one of those delicious lemon bars, with Vlad’s money. Hers, now that Tucker’s gotten his hands on Vlad’s inner systems. The barista gives her a suspicious look, but she brings out her strongest midwestern accent and the look melts into exasperation. And pity, but Ellie doesn’t really care about that. She “ooh’s and ahh’s” at the grimy stone, the gothic inspired architecture that Sam would kill to experience, goggles at the boarded up buildings. There’s a cathedral or two or five, she doesn’t remember, but the pretty glass seems to be broken at most of them. She wonders what happened. Then she remembers that there are vigilantes here, and concludes that she has to remember to look up more often. A giant clock-tower. A district with less people and fancier homes. A university! She might apply after she’s done traveling around and have gotten her GED.

Her shoes pound the pavement, something about the effort it takes to take a step burns in her soul. Yes, this is what it means to be free. She kicks the knees of two would be robbers in as she passes them on her way to purchasing three bars of the best chocolates she’s had in her short existence.

The cashier looks at her like she’s odd. Oh, well.

And then night falls. Ancients, does the city truly come alive. There are screams and sirens and surges in ectoplasm that balances her essence of being out. Ellie, with a new pep in her step, follows the trail of ectoplasm right into an area called “Crime Alley.”

“It feels almost like… a haunt…?”

Ellie hums and keeps walking. Maybe this is the territory of one of the undead Gothamites…?

She’s got a bit of Danny’s saving people thing after all, because the three bars of candy on her is gone in minutes to children with hollow cheek and dead eyes. 



Ellie startles backwards as a body slams onto the pavement in front of her, barely missing the risen steps of the building they were in front of.

“Oh.” She says. Because this is one of the Undead. And he’s Red Hood. Danny is going to flip.

“Run- run, kid.”

Ellie tilts her head. “And why would I do that?”

“You’re gonna get hurt, brat!” The man barks, and winces as his ribs shuttered. The red helmet’s tinny voice doesn’t intimidate her nor does it hide the concern and fear bleeding into the guy’s body language.

“Not really?”

And with that, Ellie slams her elbow into Goon 1, knocking him straight into another building. Goon 2 tries to grab her and she phases out of his reach, floating upwards and slamming her fist into his face. He joins Goon 1 in decorating that building’s new mural, called the two dumbasses that picked a fight with a wandering Ellie.

Hood watches her, cradling his ribs.

“You a meta?” He grumbled at her, wheezing as she crouched down and poked his sides. He smacks her hand away.

Ellie, who has clearly spent too much time near Danny, replies, “Being dead is a medical condition.” without missing a single beat.

Hood, on the other hand, misses several beats.

“What?”

Ellie barrels on, amused at his fumble. “Did you know you died?”

Hood looks at her and Ellie swears she can see the dumbfounded expression.

Ellie laughs, free and sharp. Yes, Gotham is nothing like Amity.

[cerisahh]

arcane season two act three spoilers

(just me wordvomiting)

i’m so happy that in at least one reality silco, vander and benzo get their happy ending.

i cannot even put into words the emotions i felt as soon as silco came on screen i had to pause and pace my room for three minutes before i could even continue. he literally😭😭got a happy ending😭😭😭 he looks so healthy too oh what i would give for an arcane ‘what if’ series

i mean we got a ‘what if’ vi died in jayce’s lab = no hextech, vander and silco rekindled bromance, no jinx, CANON TIMEBOMB, mylo and claggor are alive, and zaun and piltover are practically best friends

what if silco had taken in vi instead of powder/ powder gets taken by marcus instead of vi?? what if viktor mentored jinx?? what if neither silco or vander died?? WHAT IF THEY NEVER FOUGHT IN THE FIRST PLACE????

i need to consume written pieces of alternate!silco oh the fluff 😣 i can feel it already this is just perfect slice of life/married au material let me be your housewife silco i’ll do anything

i’m ngl the ending? did not care for it. i did not care for it, was it a good ending? no i actually dont think so. this season could have been 30 episodes long and id have sat my ass down and watched all 30 twice through… NINE rushed episode and u felt it was rushed too

NO MENTION NOT EVEN A WHISPER OF ISHA? HO DIED AND NOT EVEN A SCRIBBLED HALLUCINATION OF HER? NAAAAH!

THE ORIANNA OMFHDH i NO LIE started wojacking and looking at a fake camera see image below

THATS WHAT I DID I WAS SO GEEKED OMG

i also started crying on episode 7 whenever it would cut from ekko and powder to jayce literally sobbing because he looked like a hobo stop cutting away from timebomb

speaking of jayce… let’s talk viktor!! where did his vi-nis go?? nobody knows.. every time he said glorious revolution i geeked and cringed at the same time DONT GET ME FUCKING STARTED ON SKY “i’ll miss our conversations”… “no u won’t” YEAH NO HE WONT UR BORING 😭😭 actual snooze fest why was she even in his mushroom trip lucidity void fuckfest states oeuuhh im pissed

jayce haters feel really stupid now though huh🤣🤣🤣

circling back to silco jinx hallucinating h. stop. jinx hallucinating him and him not even digging into her he was COMFORTING HER. i can’t even . i can’t . i just cant. i need him.

and now it’s OVER?? no no no this can’t be.. no no.. NOOO!!!! i better see a steady stream of silco fanfics OMG I HAVENT EVEN SPOKEN ABOUT SEVIKA YET

bro her getting a fucking POSITION ON THE COUNCIL was peak my woman DESERVES a happy ending. she was always loyal to zaun and her people and seeing her get to be in that position just yes. so good (im kind of pissed that we got a caitvi sex scene - if you can call it that they just fondled each other - instead of sevika scissoring at a brothel, ok dpmo).

don’t think i forgot about maddie yew stewpid bitch… HER GOOFY LITTLE CHEST BANG LMFAOO then she got shot #DESERVED #WHATHAPPENSTOGINGERSINARCANE

not even going to write anything on mel because although her little storyline was cool to watch i didn’t fucking get it ☠️ ambessa was hot until her untimely end though. lost a muscle mommy today raise your flags

and to summarise!

jinx: probably alive let’s be honest, gone to find herself a girlfriend (lux)

vi: alive and happy with caitlyn

caitlyn: alive and happy with vi

ekko: alive, misses powder (jinx? both)

mel: alive, now has superpowers which is sick, still gorgeous but stuck with that awful black outfit i hated it so badly

jayce and viktor: transported to a doomed yaoi novella after saving runeterra (very sad)

isha: dead?? they never showed us a body but let’s all be real and not lie she is most probably dead. here’s to holding out hope though, maybe she’s ziggs!

ambessa: dead dead dead “you are the wolf” thank you motherrr 😝

sevika: ALIVE!!! got her happy ending YIPPEE!

vi’s bro dude i forgot his name: death by a million arrows RIP

hot firelight bat dude: AAAALIVEEEE!

hot enforcer fish dude: AHHHHLIVEEEE!

maddie: DEAD TRAITOR TRAITOR DIE DIE DEAD

heimerdinger: pretty sure he got zapped out of existence but he’s lived a long time so not that huge of a blow. rip little bro though

and for my own peace of mind and mental wellness

powder: ALIVE AND HAPPY

ekko: ALIVE AND HAPPY

silco: ALIVE AND HAPPY

vander: ALIVE AND HAPPY

benzo: ALIVE AND HAPPY

claggor: ALIVE AND HAPPY he took ozempic too holy damn!

milo: ALIVE AND HAPPY worlds worst mustache though

vi: AL- oh not here. that’s fine i guess

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Once and for all, what does that mean? It's a promise I'm making that I don't actually believe

Read on Ao3 here Once And For All, What Does That Mean? It’s A Promise I’m Making That I Don’t Actually Believe (2015 words) by Caranthirwasalesbian

‘Ar- Artanis,’ the voice was brittle and faint, barely travelling over the hauntingly lifeless halls, softer than the echoing sound of near silent feet on the flagstones. The halls of Menegroth shone bright with jewels as they always had but now the glittering was accompanied by that of fresh blood, trickling and dripping from silver blades and breastplates.

This was now in truth the tomb she had likened it to when she saw the entrance, slabs of stone burrowed far below the sun soaked forest into the depths of the earth.

She knew that voice, however much she struggled to comprehend the ill fate that could bring it to her ears, of all ears; perhaps the doom of her people had not let her slip its grasp so easily. Millenia later she would finder herself replaying this moment, a regular uninvited fixture in her mirror for reasons that perplexed her more often than not.

There were no lack of instances for her to dwell on where an action of hers had had a longstanding impact on things of consequence, many losses more severe to torment her over. Was it even a loss at all? She felt disinclined to classify it as so on balance. Yet something in her held onto this one brief moment as of a greater significance than she felt generous enough to give it.

What could really be extrapolated of the inner workings of her heart from a moment’s hesitance? It took until the third time the image appeared to her in the glassy surface of the basin for her to realise that it was unusual for her to have halted at that voice, rather than turn on her heel and sink into her husband’s waiting arms, be rid of this place of death, of this gaping reminder of the worst night of her long, long life.

She ached to distance herself from all to do with that voice, the insignias strewn across the floor, the golden sand soaked with red, for centuries of her life and yet she’d lingered. It took her until the third time seeing it again to realise that she’d had a choice in the matter.

It hadn’t felt like a decision in the moment. She hadn’t been trapped nor threatened; they held no threat to her and certainly she wouldn’t grace them with even a trace of wariness.

It hadn’t felt like a decision, however she wondered later what exactly had compelled her so to seek out the speaker, knowing well what she would find.

She’d known, she’d expected it, yet still some small part of her recoiled at the spear rammed into her cousin’s gut, despite the countless more deserving of her time strewn around him bearing similar wounds, many no doubt inflicted by him.

For scarcely a second she moved to remove her cloak, thinking to staunch the bleeding, before she caught up with herself and released it again. This was Celegorm, slayer of her kin of which he was no longer a part in any way that mattered. He’d ensured that.

He hacked out a violent cough, blood spurting over his pale face, nearly translucent by now, and she found herself hastily kneeling to pull him upright, delay the inevitable. She did not know how she felt about this, though she most likely should have, but she knew well enough that she did not want to watch anyone else choke on their own blood if she could help it.

‘Pl- Please,’ he rasped. No- begged, Celegorm was begging, desperately pleading with her for something; he must know she had nothing to offer him even if he could delude himself into thinking she’d give him aught.

She had no mercy to give and he was in no place to receive any were it offered. He must know there was no hope for his life, he’d seen enough dying animals to know when one was too far gone to save. He’d killed enough people to know when there was no point wasting an arrow on one who would be dead in the hour. What would he beg of her?

‘Stay. Nelyo won’t find me in time.’ He gasped for air while clawing for her hand; he squeezed his bloodstained, sticky hand around her smooth fingers quite painfully- she was too shocked to extricate them. The moment dragged on, punctuated only by dripping and ragged breaths.

He’d taught her to ride. Those hands had still held the callouses but none of the scars or burns as they guided her through the movements of the reins; with his natural aptitude she doubted he would make a patient teacher but she proved a fast learner so the arrangement worked out amiably enough.

He clapped her jovially on the back with a wide grin when she started to get the hang of it, raking his much larger hand through her crown of braids in a way that she thought infuriatingly condescending at first but grew gradually more touched by when she saw him do the same to Curufin.

They would occasionally spend days hunting together over the years though less and less as the bitterness began to set in at court and her father began to favour withdrawing them from Tirion to spend their time with her Ammë’s kin in Alqualonde more frequently.

Her Nolofinwean cousins had visited on occasion but even with them things were not as they once were however much they tried to ignore it, or at least shelter her from it. The Feanorian’s didn’t visit at all and at that stage she had rarely missed their company.

His head of shining silver tossed back in rumbling laughter, joyous and light as he galloped with unchecked abandon through the sun flecked forests, lost in his exhilaration and often forgetting he was accompanied at all; that was unless his company was Aredhel in which case the two of them were in a world of their own, riding abreast.

She had not known then what he would become, the callousness that would infect him like a disease, the cruelty that would twist his grin into something entirely other; if she had she would have driven her dagger into his throat right then and saved them all much suffering. But he hadn’t known then either.

Would he be as appalled and shocked as she was by the monster he’d become? No, she wouldn’t use that word, it was too simple, far too easy to dismiss what he was now as something entirely other than the cousin she’d known. That cousin had chosen of his own free will to forsake every standard of basic morality in favour of this indiscriminate bloodshed.

They all had, even Maglor who she could still remember as so sweet and gentle, all the family gatherings she could recall accompanied by beautiful music and a voice so pure that many believed it to be a gift from the gods, something intrinsically sacred and good. That beautiful voice had thrummed in the grounds of battle fields, the dreaded crescendoes building until they crashed down and wreaked destruction; any god that had gifted it would have turned away in horror.

Of course that was the gods’ way, to turn their backs in disgust at the world they had brought into being, at those whose lives and minds they had shaped until they realised they no longer liked what they saw.

She should have warned these people who had allowed her into their home, begrudgingly or not, that you couldn’t rely on a god’s protection forever. However beloved of them you were, however blessed and devout, however much irresistible grace and benevolence was showered upon you the path to destruction was paved with misplaced complacency and there was no complacency more misplaced than faith.

The gods may love you but their love was a fickle thing that could not be trusted or invoked, only given in a flight of whimsy and taken just as quickly. She had seen the beauty of this kingdom, the protection it enjoyed as a safe harbour from all the troubles of the world and the indescribable being that was Melian and she had wanted it to be different. She had known in her heart of hearts that it wouldn’t be.

If she had said this it would have dismissed as the cynical blasphemy of a family who had been rightfully forsaken for those very sentiments, spiteful fear-mongering. She hadn’t and look where it got them; when you rebel you are cursed as punishment and when you are faithful death is your reward.

She believed that she could see a little of the blind despair, the doubt creeping in at whether there was any victory on the cards to begin with, that had driven her cousins to their course of action. For the first time in all the years since that fateful night she could muster up little else than pity for them.

She looked down into his eyes, not yet glassed over and still brimming with some sort of emotion. He was both more and less familiar to her than he’d ever been in that moment, moments from death and asking only for a recognisable face to be with him before- before what?

Did he know what awaited him, seen glimpses of it as he inched closer? The everlasting darkness? Suddenly it begun to make sense to her, his desperation, his clinging to her hand and begging her to stay in the stead of his brothers; he was scared, scared of what unknown fate awaited him. He was scared that these might be the very last things he ever saw, the very last thoughts he ever had and he didn’t want to pass into the darkness completely alone and unheeded.

If he couldn’t have the arms of a weeping Maedhros cradling and soothing him with what would certainly be uncomplicated love in the face of losing him when all was said done, he would at least want someone that could be associated with something other than what he’d become, someone other than those whose deaths he’d caused lying mere inches away.

Her voice was calm and steady as she spoke to him in a daze of confusion that he was in no state to pick up on.

‘I’ll stay.’

She did not think she imagined the gratitude in his grimace and when he squeezed her fingers once again to express it she finally found herself gently squeezing back. Stay she did and though no more words passed between them she very briefly carded a hand though his straggly silver hair.

She thought he understood that though nothing was forgiven and never would be he would not disappear entirely unnoticed by all but his brothers, for all he deserved it. However many horrific things she had wished upon them all while on the Grinding Ice, when she heard of his role in her brother’s death, in Luthien’s abduction, when finally faced with his death she was painfully aware that at no point would he have truly have gone unmourned by her.

She may detest the ties that bound them with all her being but she was incapable of freeing herself of them and always would be; some part of her would always be his cousin. She felt that in that moment they understood each other better than they had even before any strife had come between them.

When he finally stilled and left her kneeling on the floor alone she did not quite know what to feel. She rose and continued on to find Celeborn, to leave this place of sorrow behind and find somewhere else. She could start anew tomorrow but Celegorm never could; he had no tomorrow. Alive though they might be she was on a certain level aware that neither could his brothers.

She shed no tears for him on that day. That came many weeks later and though she let them slip on to Celeborn’s shoulder and his hands stroked reassuringly over her back his soft, concerned questions were met with silence.

[lilis-doodle-dome]

I have so many questions about every dynamic you can think of for this au im so interested in hearing more about the tenma siblings (toya included) and nene + emu's relationship with tsukasa

im also interested to hear how the dynamic between ena and mafuyu, emu and mafuyu, + rui and mizuki changes.

There is not enough space in these charts for any real information aughh, sorry for the weird text sizing. Also I didn’t put that much effort into editing Kasa/Mafu in these images haha

But relationship charts between the group! Sorry it doesn’t answer every question, but hopefully it’s enough? Feel free to ask more if anything needs clarification!

Here’s a transcript:

Tsukasa- Emu: Always tries to make me smile, but should she really waste her energy on me?…Sometimes she reminds me of Saki when she was younger

Tsukasa-Nene: Stronger than she seems. The least chaotic of the others, when we’re together she doesn’t expect anything. It’s…nice, although it might not be good.

Tsukasa-Rui: Always has something new to try, but I think it’s more for his own curiosity than for my self discovery. He knows a lot, could be more helpful if he ever shared it.

Emu-Tsukasa: Someone important to me that I’ll help find the smile of, no matter what! You’re no oohm doom villain Tsukasa-kun!

Emu-Nene: The most wonderhoy singer! Thank you for helping me see what it means to be a leader, I promise to never lose sight of my troupe again.

Emu-Rui: He always has the best, most fun ideas! I really appreciate his support, we always do best with his directing!

Nene-Tsukasa: He can seem pretty intimidating, but he’s actually rather clueless. I hope he can figure himself out, just not at the expense of others.

Nene-Emu: You’ve grown into a person deserving of the title of leader and I’m grateful you brought us together. I know you’re determined about your goal, but don’t forget we’re here too.

Nene-Rui: I’ll get stronger, I won’t turn a blind eye to you ever again.

Rui-Tsukasa: He tests anything I ask of him without complaint, I wish I could say that was a good thing. Let’s keep using each other until we’ve found what we’re really looking for, okay?

Rui-Nene: I’m glad she’s standing up for herself more, but I hope she knows there’s nothing she needs to make up for. It’s just nice to perform with her again.

Rui-Emu: A truly admirable person, she’s dedicated herself wholeheartedly to other’s smiles. Your smile is something precious as well though, don’t forget that.

—

Mafuyu-Kanade: A musical genius to match my lyrical! Her soft mannerisms belie her unmatched stubbornness, she’ll ever so gently, tell me I’m doing too much, all while she neglects herself! How confounding!

Mafuyu-Ena: She reminds me of those small dogs that get a poor reputation for being aggressive, despite it being people ignoring their fear signals that cause those reactions. That being said, it’s rather entertaining how differently she responds to Kanade versus Mizuki.

Mafuyu-Mizuki: They’ve introduced me to many new styles I’ve never experienced before. It’s amazing how they can make the most intimidating outings seem approachable. I enjoy any and all time spent with them!

Kanade-Mafuyu: She can’t see how she’s hurting herself for the sake of others. I need to help her, someone who can actually save others- shouldn’t have to suffer for it.

Kanade-Ena: Her art is still filled with hurt, but I’m glad she’s found some peace in our group. If only I could do more for her…

Kanade-Mizuki: They always have the frankest opinions of everyone else and seem to speak their mind freely, yet rarely say anything about themself. Their perspective is always appreciated though.

Ena-Mafuyu: Aren’t the big headed types supposed to not actually be good at everything? How is that fair at all, and she’s even got the nerve to be a nice person! I’ll show her-

Ena-Kanade: She’s wonderful. The soft, patient voice-of-reason needed to reign in the group, listening to her music is like a miracle cure for bad days.

Ena-Mizuki: They’re an insistent pest, that won’t leave me in peace. I guess I don’t hate the company though and they are good at putting together outfits for photos.

Mizuki-Mafuyu: A willing dress-up doll, she’s pretty enough to be one too! Kinda reminds me of an old friend with how many questions she asks about everything, guess geniuses have that in common.

Mizuki-Kanade: Always makes sure everyone feels comfortable and safe. It’s really nice to have a space I won’t be judged…

Mizuki-Ena: She’s way too funny not to tease, but she’s just as capable as the rest of the group. It’s kinda scary how easy she is to talk to, wouldn’t want to say anything I regret.

[zuppizup]

Water

Previous - End of the world

“Do not ask how the ocean’s blue, or why the tides their time do keep. To love is to simply know this: The tides are true as the ocean is deep”

Rayla begins to come to as the sun is setting, the moon hanging on the horizon. She looks around the clearing, as she pushes herself up on her elbows and Callum hurries over to her. He’s been unsuccessfully trying to light the fire, but their tinder is still damp.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he helps her sit up. The colour has return to her cheeks somewhat and her breathing finally sounds normal.

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around her.

“Not far from where we ran into Claudia,” he offers her his water skin, but she doesn’t even seem to notice it as she begins to gather her things.

“How far have you tracked them?” Her hands move to her back and he can see a little of the tension leave her shoulders when she finds her blades securely holstered.

“Tracked them?” he tries to urge her to relax. It’s almost night and she’s been unconscious for hours. They’ve no idea what the spell Claudia performed on her did and the last thing she needs to do is to go stumbling through a dark forest.

“How much of a head start do they have?” Pushing herself to her feet, she stumbles a little and he rushes to catch her.

“Too much.” He tries to urge her to sit, but she ignores him. “Rayla, you need to rest. You were out for hours.”

“We don’t have time!” She grits her teeth, eyes glistening. “The Cube-”

“Yeah, they have it now, and we have no chance of getting it back with you like this!” He takes a deep breath, attempting to keep his temper under control.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?!” She attempts to glare at him, the look undercut by the tears on her cheeks.

He huffs, balling his fists. “That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.”

Turning away from him, she begins walking to the edge of the clearing.

“Rayla, stop!” He hurries after her, grabbing her wrist. “We need a plan. We can’t just go blindly chasing after them!”

She pulls her hand back, turning to glare at him. “Callum, we know what they’re going to do with it!” Tears well up in her eyes again. “How could you?”

“How could I?” He scoffs. “What other options did I have?!”

“They’re going to restore Aaravos and we gave them the last piece of the puzzle!” Her tears are angry now. “What were you thinking?!”

“I obviously wasn’t thinking!” He spits, and it seems to momentarily shock her into silence. “Of course I gave up the Cube to save your life! I love you!"

Taking a breath, he shakes his head, some of the fire leaving him. It’s the first time he’s said it since she’s come back...

She wipes her eyes, her shoulders slumped now. “Callum, you can’t-”

“What, you just expected me to watch? To stand idly by while Claudia suffocated you or slit your throat or... or...?” He blinks his own tears from his eyes now. “Do you think I could do that?”

This seems to get through to her somewhat and she falls silent again.

“If it came down to it, could you do it? If Aaravos possessed me again, could you kill me?” He takes her hand. “Even though it might have stopped this.”

Her breath catches and she closes her eyes, reaching for him. He takes her in his arms, holding her close.

“Callum, what if we’ve doomed the world?” She whispers into his neck, her voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t reply. Not because he doesn’t have an answer but because he knows she won’t like it. That it would weigh heavy on her, be another burden that’s not hers to carry but that she would all the same.

Because he doesn’t care.

He knows if presented with the choice again, he’d choose her. That he would always choose her. That there would never be an eventuality where he’d be able to hold onto the Cube and let her die.

[the-cookie-of-doom]

sooooo..... thoughts on Mike/Peem from He She It? 👀👀👀

So. Mike and Peem. First thing’s first: Mike is a terrible person. I don’t care. I’m 100% a Mike apologist, and to that end, Peem is not entirely innocent. He’s the one sleeping with the guy who’s already in a public relationship. Now, the responsibility for that lies solely with Mike!! Peem doesn’t owe Pear any loyalty. However, going after someone in a relationship is a sleazy thing to do. Though there is that interesting moral gray area of, “Yeah he’s cheating on his girlfriend, but only because he’s super repressed and closeted, so it doesn’t count if he’s exploring his sexuality,” which is usually used to make an otherwise shitty character more sympathetic. Your mileage may vary here. Cheating is cheating; if Mike was worried about anyone finding out, he could have broken up with Pear and just kept seeing Peem in secret. He had options. But personally, I do think it’s an interesting character motive; it’s messy! All of them are! The only person in this entire cast who isn’t a fucking disaster, is Pear herself. Girl did not deserve all of that. 

So, all of that aside, I love Mike and Peem’s mutually assured destruction thing they’ve got going on. Because Peem knows/believes Mike doesn’t love him, but loves Mike anyway, and Mike has to know they were always going to be caught eventually. There’s no way to hide the fact you’re sleeping with your best friend forever. And because he refused to just break up with Pear, there was always going to be incredible fallout from the eventual discovery.

The acting teacher at the beginning aid: “In the real world, we don’t know who is acting. Sometimes, in the world of performing, we don’t know who’s real. Sometimes we can’t tell them apart at all.” 

Combine the fact that when Mike pulled Peem into the pool the first time, he started to drown. Mike immediately jumped in to save him, and when pressed, Peem says he was just acting. Implied: trying to get attention. He’s hurt; he’s feeling rejected by Mike, then they had a heart to heart where Mike gives in to him a little, and Mike literally saved his life. Peem is feeling vulnerable. It’s easier to let Mike believe he just wanted attention in a superficial kind of way, than to face the deeper emotions he’s feeling in this scene. Probably because he knows Mike won’t be able to meet him halfway, but he knows Mike likes feeling wanted. He can handle Peem being sad and rejected—he can’t handle Peem’s heartbreak, or any implication that Peem is in this for more than easy sex. Which is likely what Mike is telling himself he wants; he’s in complete denial of both his sexuality and his feelings for Peem. 

So: we have already established that Peem told Mike he faked the drowning. What was a funny/cute moment between them becomes tragic when Mike pushes Peem into the pool again, remembers this incident, and decides to walk away rather than save Peem again. They’re in the middle of a heated fight, Mike feels like his world is ending, and he sees this as Peem’s attempt to keep him from leaving, which only pisses him off more. But he truly believes Peem can swim; this was an accident, not a murder. As horrible as Mike’s actions are, he’s a scared kid at heart; if he had any idea Peem was going to die that night, as angry as he was, I think he would have saved him. As much as he was denying his feelings, Peem was still his lover, and before that, his best friend. He wouldn’t have intentionally left him to die. That’s what makes it so tragic. Things didn’t have to happen this way, but a domino effect from the very beginning meant they were doomed to end up here.

I'm just. So !!! About these two. I've had a fic idea rolling in the back of my mind ever since I saw it with a Bad Ending where Mike drowns, wrapping the story up where it starts. Peem is there, and it's left ambiguous whether Mike drowns himself, or Peem does, or if it was just another tragic accident. But whatever happens, Peem is there. He forgives him. It's going to be okay. Mike has already lost everything, now they can finally be together, without anything or anyone else standing in between them.

[articroses]

I felt very underwhelmed by the Fionna and Cake Ending. Idk, after how episode 7 and 8 were so great and left us on an exciting cliffhanger and there were so many expectations for it to be an incredibly emotional experience and it was so hyped up—and then it just … fell flat for me.

I somewhat predicted what would happen in the finale and I was kinda fine with it (the unhealthy dynamics with Petrigrof, Fionna having to accept her unmagical world) but the execution really sucked in my opinion.

But putting my thoughts and how I would have executed it under a read more~

I liked their final goodbye in Simon’s memories but I think everything that led up to it could have been done better. Simon and (Gol)Betty’s reunion was one of the biggest things fans were looking forward to in the series. I felt that while seeing Shermy and Beth was interesting, it wasn’t a good move to bring them into the plot at this point of the conflict. Plus, the Casper and Nova’s metaphor, while necessary for someone as dense as Simon, was pretty much spoon feeding information the audience could already tell, so it felt like it was pulling more time away from that confrontation.

I felt like they could have pushed Simon’s self-sacrificial (suicidal) tendencies and emotions. We’re coming in from the heels of an episode that had Ice King dying sobbing in his last moments. Simon, when confronting Golbetty was very somber, so to speak. As a viewer, I wanted an explosion between them. With Simon finally getting out all the misery he felt in a world that he doesn’t understand / doesn’t understand him, living in the shadow of your crazed self that was embroiled in sadness and madness and magic for a 1000 years, and having no self-worth and when he (thinks) can finally escape this misery by becoming the Ice King, being useful and saving Fiona’s world too, she—the woman that he loved and who left him—won’t let him die. We see this frustration when Simon's mind is projected in Shermy but it isn’t as fulfilling since it presented as more comedic.

Maybe, even with Simon realizing how much Betty sacrificed for him and gave herself up, he’ll ask why, why she would do any of that in the first place for him (maybe digging more into Betty’s obsessive nature in the first place because it’s obvious she was obsessed with him from the start).

Also, having more of Betty’s voice! While we can tell Betty made the choices she made and that she has agency, I wish there was more showing of how Betty feels being a cosmic deity. Based on the posts on Tumblr, I feel like there’s some confusion on whether Betty is Golb, if they’re fused, or if she’s piloting him(?) like some messed up mech. It doesn’t even have to be a long scene. Maybe, a simple scene of Simon wondering if he had doomed Betty and Betty showing him like a slight sliver of the universe and she experiences it, and of course Simon can’t comprehend it , but she can and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. Immortality already seems so lonely, so I wish it was more explicit that Betty was going off on an adventure that she would very much enjoy.

Having to bring in a simple metaphor (Casper and Nova) to explain the unhealthy dynamics of Petrigrof’s relationship (which the audience could already tell) but not explaining enough the ultimately positive experience Betty will have makes me think the writers swung towards one extreme in a pendulum.

I also think Fionna could have been fleshed out a lot more. While I understand she’s a regular human, in comparison to how Finn was fighting in the original show, She’s not really as active (though I understand they are different). It seemed more like plot things just happened to her and all she could do was react instead of acting. I understand they were going for an emotional character development with her with how the fantasy world isn’t as fun as it looks, but I would have liked more actiony scenes of her kicking butt that wasn’t innocent civilians and maybe villains yet still realizing this isn’t the life / fantasy that she wanted. Idk I felt Fiona’s development could have been handled better.

I don’t like scarab as a villain but I understand his necessity. However, dropping off Lil Destiny, Jay and all the others into Fionna’s verse was completely unnecessary. Especially, since they really didn’t contribute that much to the final fight. I would have rather they stayed in their respective universes but have been included in the final montage with showing how their worlds became better due to Fiona’s showing up.

Really, this is my idea with the final montage:

Simon coming back from his adventures and going into his weird room garage museum or whatever, just to see Finn, Marcy and PB worried and waiting there. Simon says something about almost becoming Ice King again. Everyone flips out before embracing him in a tearful hug

More gumlee, they were amazing

I think everything going on in Fionna’s world was pretty good in the original montage

For the whole world that was created with the Lich’s wish, maybe show scenes of the other Mos roaming around. Maybe they become more advanced somehow. Either way, life begins again.

For the vampire world, maybe a group of humans running away from another group of vampires. Suddenly, all the vampires are ran over by the peppermint tank and out pops Baby Finn. The humans surround the tank and see all the weapons to fight off the vamps. Someone picks up baby Finn—it’s Minerva (I can dream)

With the whole world with the Winter King, the ice starts to thaw out from that winter kingdom. There’s more grasslands and forests. We see PB fixing and giving prosthetics to candy citizens. Life keeps going.

With farm world, we see Jay introducing Lil Destiny to Finn over dinner. Finn, with bandages over his head and bear hat still in place drops a bowl of hunter’s stew on the dinner table and stares menancingly at Lil Destiny. All of his kids stare too. The mood is tense as Lil Destiny holds her spoon to take a sip of her stew, only to really like it and grab the bowl and gulp it down. Finn ends up cracking a smile and all the kids laugh now that she’s officially been approved.

In Ooo, more montage of Simon hanging out with loved ones. Since everyone has gotten a tattoo (or at least tried to), it’s Simon’s time to go with the whole crew, except he’s so indecisive with what he wants and nervous about the pain that he keeps jumping off and coming back to the tattoo table, only to end up irritating the spider tattoo artist anyways. Everyone laughs about it

We see that glowing blue being that GolBetty turned into looking over the cosmos, looking excited about what’s to come Also, having all the finns interact would have been very math...

[aparticularbandit]

The Emperor's New World

Summary: When the feeling's gone, and you can't go on,

It's *******

When the morning cries, and you don't know why,

It's hard to bear--

For DR WLWeek 2024: Prompt Five: The Tragedy.

Also for @yabashiri, who prompted Enonami for something else but is getting this one, too. :)

Fic Rating: M because this is the Tragedy and there's some gruesome imagery.

AO3

The great Tragedy of the world is how easily it falls apart.

The stitching is imperfect, the fabrics mismatched, the pieces laid incorrectly together.  Its sleeves are two different lengths, the seat of its pants is missing, its beanie has a hole at the top so large that it might as well be an old school monk’s haircut.  The collar is too small for anyone to poke their head through, the buttons don’t match its holes, the zipper is stuck.  Junko doesn’t even need to take scissors to it; she could rip the flimsy thing apart with her bare hands.  She doesn’t need a stitch ripper either when the seams are so loosely done that she can unthread them with her fingernails.  Admittedly, her fingernails have been molded into a sharp point – into bear claws – which makes all of that easier, but that’s not the point.

The point is that the world at large needs a better tailor, and who better to try her hands at it than the Ultimate Fashionista herself?

Even if all she does is tear the current fit to shreds.

Look, sometimes you have to rip the old shit off before you put the emperor in his new clothes, got it?

(Build the suit and leave it for them to find later.  She’ll be dead before they put it on.  Doesn’t mean it’s not still her design.)

~

Junko sits on a rooftop far from Hope’s Peak Academy and lets her legs dangle over the edge.

Across from her, a cathedral burns.

Fire swirls, illuminating the sharp shattered glass from within and sending a kaleidoscope of colors along the street, along each person fighting, attacking, defending, murdering.  It’s an odd spot of beauty among everything else, those sharp pinks and blues and golds, even if it clashes horribly with the blood red sky overhead.

No matter what Junko does, she can’t escape that color.  She was born drenched in it, reflecting it in her eyes, as though it is the only thing she could ever be.  Her destiny: blood, blood, and more blood.  She tastes it rusty on her lips.

Disgusting.

Across the street, a girl grabs a shard of stained glass from the concrete and wields it like a knife.

Beautiful.

Poetry in motion.

Of course, this does not save her.  Who brings a knife to a gun fight?  She throws it like a star, and the sparkling pink glare hits Junko’s eyes.  When she can see again, the girl has already fallen to the ground, the light gone from her eyes.  It sucks – to miss that moment.  Maybe she wouldn’t have been able to see it from this far away anyway, but she would have liked to see the despair overwhelming that girl the way it overwhelmed her once, so long ago.

Maybe it’ll taste better to her.

Junko hears her shoes shuffling across the rooftop towards her before she even sees her, and she doesn’t ask how she found her here.  She could find her anywhere.  Will find her anywhere.  Junko looks up as she sits next to her.  “It’s been a while.”

“It hasn’t been that long, I think.”

Chiaki doesn’t look up from the gaming device in her hands as she kicks her heels against the brick wall beneath her.  She never looks up at Junko anymore; she always has her Game Girl with her, and she’s always looking at it.

Junko scoots over to her, just brushing against her arm, and leans over her shoulder.  Familiar.  Warm.  “Did I do it?” she asks, glancing at the game on her screen.  “Did I make it right?”

The story Junko tells – The Emperor’s New World – unravels on Chiaki’s screen.  Doom and gloom and a villain wrapped in a fantastic, iconic look.  Not that anyone knows what the true villain looks like, not yet.  (And even then, they won’t.  Junko makes herself a villain because it’s easier to fight one that has a physical form than it is to fight theories and philosophies and ideas.)

Right now, the only thing anyone knows is the bear – half black and half white with that singular blazing red eye torn into his skull and half a smile, like he’s always excited and always ready to rip someone’s throat out.  (Yours, if you aren’t careful.)  He looks just as cool as a character framed in 8-bit as he does in real life, although Junko’s sure he’s not nearly as cuddly in the game as the version Kaz and Gundham created for her.  The video game version doesn’t have real fur, after all.

(The plushies won’t either, but no one really cares about that.  It’s all marketing.)

“Will it have a good ending?”

Junko doesn’t say anything.  She goes through every possible scenario again and again and again, and she doesn’t say anything.  It will have a fitting ending, one handcrafted specifically for this story.  One that fits like a second skin.

In the silence, Chiaki continues.  “It’s okay if there’s a lot of suffering, I think.”

“It’s okay if people die?”

Because people are dying.  So many people are dying.  And it’s Junko’s fault.

It doesn’t matter that she knows they would have died anyway, that more people would have died if she didn’t act; it doesn’t matter, because they’re dying now and it’s still her fault, and it hurts.

Of course, the way she is now, that pain and despair only fuels her, only brings her joy.

(It still hurts.)

“I died, Ryo-chan.”  Chiaki still doesn’t look up.  The silence between them fills with screams and thunder and above all of that the background music of Chiaki’s game, the beeps and boops of each button she clicks (and the clacking of them, too).  The cathedral in front of them quivers, and another stained glass window explodes outward, its shards staining the ground.  Finally, into the silence, she asks, “Did you give it a happy ending?”

Ryoko nods, solemn.  “The happiest ending I could, Chicharin.  The happiest ending I could.”

“Then that’s okay, I think.”  Chiaki glances over to her; eyes the shade of Junko’s hair meet hers and frown.  “Hey, hey,” she says, reaching up and brushing her fingers along Junko’s cheek, bringing their tips away wet.  “What’s wrong?”

“You know,” Ryoko says, with a shake of her head.  “Why are you asking when you already know?”

Chiaki smiles and leans up just enough to kiss her cheek.  “You’ll see me soon.” When she fades into nothing, Ryoko thinks she can imagine what the press of Chiaki’s lips on her skin might have felt like.  Unfortunately, she’ll never know.  Then she stretches her lips into Junko’s horrible, terrific grin and beams down on the world below her, propping her hands on her hips as the cathedral glass stains blood pink.

[yukiwrites]

Sharing Burdens

THIS IS SO LATE... so so late. BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WAITING AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH @spacesmilodon i hope you LIKE ITT ToT)

Summary: Iduun had joined the Companions after a past at the Thieves' Guild. Even if she was the Dragonborn, it did not feel right, to Vilkas, to accept someone with her history in their ranks. However, as they got to know one another, perhaps Vilkas ought to rethink on how he saw those around him...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

The air was thick with the stench of rotting flesh. Ash, debris and blood rained down from the sky, as explosions above and below shook the very core of the earth.

No matter how fast she ran, there was no escape.

She was out of breath, but there was no end in sight. The sky crumbled above, and the earth squelched with decay beneath her — there was no escape.

With her weapons in hand, she tried to reach the end, to reach the house, to reach him—

But she never made it.

No matter how many times she relived that moment, no matter how many times she went over it in her head, the outcome was always the same.

She never made it.

The sad smile on his lips as putrid blood gurgled his throat.

“No…!” She tried to speak, but her voice never came out. She tried to touch him, but the inherent disgust against what was consuming him stopped her hands. What a fool!

His voice sounded so distant. He said something, but in her ears there were only explosions. Unknown monsters shifted, encircling her. She was trapped. They were trapped.

Dread filled her. The air grew colder, her heart raced, and a sense of impending doom consumed her.

As she turned around —

“Ah!” Iduun woke up in cold sweat, panting. She sat on the bed with a startle, reaching for her weapons by instinct.

For a few seconds, as her eyes shook, she tried to place herself in reality.

“Huff…” She breathed heavily, still getting adjusted to where she was. Seeing in the dark was a meager bonus from her contract with Nocturnal, so it wasn’t as though she didn’t actually know.

She simply had to shove the memories back to where they belonged.

It was over; she had failed. She saved some, but lost so many more.

With each step she thought she gave in the right direction, the world seemed to disagree with her. The more she tried, the harder it became; it was too much to bear, too much to carry.

Too much… too much.

“Hahh…” Iduun sighed, shaking her head to snap out of it, her flowy, bright red hair following like streaks of fire. “I won’t gain anything by berating myself here,” she whispered, since only thinking had been too hard. Careful so as not to wake up any of the other Companions in the room, she got up, finally noticing the weapons in her hands.

An axe and a sword. Her lips trembled and her shoulders hardened as she looked at that combination, once again resorting to shaking her head to do away with the memories.

She left the room as if running away, sheathing back her weapons while not sparing a glance back at the bed. As she went out of the room, she took a few bottles of mead on the way to the mead hall, intent on welcoming the day early.

She embraced the cold embrace of Whiterun in the middle of the night, feeling more awake and grounded as she went up the stairs.

To her surprise, there was someone else still (or already?) awake in the middle of the mead hall, close to the fire, buried in a book.

It was Vilkas.

She didn’t notice, but her shoulders sagged visibly once she realized it was him, her chest feeling slightly less burdened than a moment ago.

Although he had heightened senses as a werewolf, it was still hard for him to feel the presence of one blessed by Nocturnal unless she wanted to be found, so it took until she was close to the table for Vilkas to finally look up from his book to where she was.

Surprise was visible in his eyes, and he almost hid his book on instinct, but managed to control himself and simply closed it as she approached. “Dragonborn,” he said somberly, shifting his weight on the chair, suddenly conscious of his posture.

“Doing some hard reading, I see,” she placed a tuft of hair behind her ear as she sat one chair away from him, placing the bottles she had brought between them. “These are always a great company for a difficult book,” she said, tilting her head to the half-empty bottle beside him.

“Indeed,” he chuckled stiffly, his throat parched for some reason. He wet it down with some mead, feeling a bit of clarity return to the back of his eyes.

Iduun.

A beautiful woman with fiery hair, reserved personality, a strong sense of justice and of self. The last Dragonborn; Former member of the Thieves’ Guild; and also… bearer of Nocturnal’s blessing — or rather, curse — a fact Vilkas recently learned about by pure coincidence.

He had always felt scorn towards her despite her strong arm. A former thief? What was the Companions turning to, if they could resort to allowing anyone to join? Even if Kodlak had approved of her — and even if her strength preceded her — Vilkas was still skeptical of her presence in their leagues.

So he had no right to say that they got along well, not after the way he trained her harder than the others; not when he watched her movements closer than the others… Not when he judged her before getting to know her circumstances.

Thus, they were often seen bickering high and low, no matter the time of the day or where they were. He always found faults in her, and she wasn’t one to take it lying down either, so they always had something to say to one another.

Some, like his brother and Iduun’s friend, Rannah, would say that they actually got along really well, but that couldn’t possibly be the case. Not when he treated her like that. 

And yet, she approached him with a weary face but a friendly smile, as if it was actually true.

Vilkas bobbed his head to her, then to the bottles. “Hard night?” He dared to ask, wondering if he was prying too much.

Iduun popped one bottle open, gulping half of it down at once, making Vilkas flinch and wave his hands apprehensively. After she put it down, she dried her lips with the back of her hand and sighed. “Yeah.”

He hardened his jaw at the regret dripping from her voice. 

She, too, had a past he did not know about. She, too, carried burdens he couldn’t possibly imagine.

She, too, was the bearer of a curse she wanted to escape from, though had no way of knowing how.

It was unfair that she was going to help them with their own curse with Hircine, while still bearing her own against Nocturnal.

Therefore, Vilkas wanted to do at least some research on how to help her with her own woes; the book he had been reading was regarding Nocturnal, though it was worded more like a fairy tale rather than anything concrete.

Still, if he kept it up — if they worked together, perhaps — he was sure they would find a way. Kodlak found some clues after years of searching alone, but if she and Vilkas were of a mind to do it together, then…

Noticing Vilkas’ hesitation, Iduun glanced at the book under his hand.

“Ahh, so you know,” she said simply, leaning back against the chair.

As if caught in the act after trying to play it cool, Vilkas flinched, lowering his head. “I… apologize. I did not mean to intrude; I came upon it by coincidence,” his voice was hoarse, but his tone was firm. “I’ve no right to have treated you the way I did…”

“Oh? Whatever might you be referring to?” Her lips went up at his attitude. He had always been a principled man who was hard on her due to her sketchy background. And yet, still, he was sincere in his praises and did not hesitate to give out the proper rewards to any of the jobs she had taken. It was natural that he would look at her with scorn, but Iduun could see where he was coming from, so she was not affected by it. “I thought we were getting along just fine, weren’t we?” her smile was weak, as her mind was still reveling from the nightmare, but the feelings were true.

Looking at his surprise and seeing his countenance relax to the point of leaning back to the chair made her appreciate the moment even more. It felt like a new memory was being created; a new moment was painting over the terrible happenings of her past, allowing her to look forward instead of inward.

He chuckled, perhaps remembering something or the other about how Rannah and Farkas were always teasing them about that very subject, setting her off as well.

“We were, were we not? We were… we do…” he breathed out, picking up his bottle and raising it to her. In turn, she lifted hers, clinking them together in a toast. “To breaking our curses.”

“To breaking our curses,” she repeated in a lower voice, her chest filling with warmth even as she downed the rest of the chilled bottle. She sighed after the last sip, placing the now empty bottle amidst the full ones. “There are many more where that came from, will you join me?”

“Anytime, Shield-Sister,” he answered promptly, moving to the chair that was empty between them. As they drew closer, so did their whispers.

Iduun smiled more brightly this time, exhaustion slowly being lifted from her countenance in the face of pleasant company, while Vilkas’s perpetual scowl easened as they grew closer.

“Would it be too bold of me to ask regarding your… situation?” He tried to be as mindful as possible, but although he had a good head on his shoulders, he was no minstrel. There was only so much a man who had been raised a warrior from infancy could accomplish, especially regarding interpersonal relationships.

Noticing the awkward sincerity in his expression, Iduun closed her eyes as the smile that did not seem to go away grew in her lips. Even though she was about to talk about the unspeakable things she did not dare utter in the past, she felt that it would be okay, if it was him.

She shared details she left out even when she opened up to Kodlak, a few days ago.

Back then, he had asked her to go find the Glenmoril witches and behead them in the name of the Companions, so as to lift their curse laid by Hircine. Feeling a bond of trust between them, Iduun told him that her own soul was also snared by a Daedric Prince, one whose hold she also hoped to break free of.

To Vilkas, she whispered more details regarding the contract and the happenings within the Thieves’ Guild, under the ever-constant cracking of fire and the slow break of dawn.

He listened to her closely, at times patting her shoulder in solace, other times keeping silent in a way to allow her to continue at her own pace.

She spoke of things no other soul had ever known, but still, he listened with great care, chipping in with his own experiences regarding Hircine’s curse. He, too, was plagued by nightmares.

Nightmares of hunting; of tearing flesh apart, of destroying any and everything he ever cared about only to return to his senses and see their blood dripping from his own hands.

The madness of the Wolfblood, the inability to ever feel rested after a night’s sleep; the bloodthirsty need to butcher one’s enemy and— and the herculean control one needs to suppress these urges.

They found solace in each other’s experiences, drawing closer with each tale. Their whispers were barely audible to anyone but themselves, as the mead around them ran dry and their lips loosened.

Topics that started somber and, quite frankly, rather depressing, turned brighter as their moods lightened. After a while, they were speaking of amusing or befuddling memories, dissolving into quiet laughter together.

Most of Vilkas’s stories referred to times Farkas had put his fist where his mouth was, or times he had to save his brother from near-death experiences — which turned out to be funny in the end; while most of Iduun’s stories were about her failing some perception checks and having to run away in the most impossibly embarrassing ways possible.

The change of pace was gradual, yet so very welcome. They had never spent so much time talking together before.

It was, perhaps, their first positive interaction ever since Iduun joined the Companions.

Truth be told, it was a wonder they hadn’t hit off sooner.

Under the cover of night and the warm embrace of the fire, with the pleasant atmosphere of the twilight… it was as if Jorrvaskr was their secret place.

For those few hours, there were only the two of them.

“This may be the first time we’ve discussed something other than the Companions — or related matters,” Vilkas confessed as light started to filter in through the gaps under the doors. “To be honest, I appreciate it.”

The Dragonborn leaned on her arm over the table, looking at him with a warm gaze and a fond smile. “We should spend more time together,” she said slowly, sizing him up for his reaction.

Vilkas’s eyes perked up and his shoulders rose slightly, making him appear bigger. A smile could barely be contained upon his lips as he nodded, turning away to take another sip of mead. “You said that.”

As Iduun opened her mouth to say, “so I did,” the door to the dorms downstairs swung open, ever so quietly, but it was loud enough to break the idyllic bubble the duo had clustered themselves in, being suddenly thrown back into reality.

The steps going up the stairs were swift and quiet, fit for a hunter, and sure enough, the one who graced them with her presence was none other than the altmer hunter, Rannah.

“Oh, I thought I was the first one awake,” she scratched her cheek as Vilkas stretched himself to appear farther away from the Dragonborn than he really was. “Did I come at a bad time? I can juuuuust slip away,” she openly showed motions of sneaking, making Iduun giggle.

“Nonsense,” the Dragonborn replied, getting up from her seat, under no shortage of creaking from being in the same position for so long. “We were just about to leave as well, weren’t we?”

Vilkas cleared his throat, mechanically getting up. “Indeed we were. Yes. Just about.” He nodded, quite proud for playing it cool as he turned around to tidy up the empty bottles.

Rannah lifted one eyebrow in doubt, looking from him to her friend. Iduun winked with a smirk, then turned back to the stairs, making Rannah cover her mouth so as not to guffaw.

“If you’re going out to hunt, may I come along? I feel a bit stiff,” she asked, not waiting for the reply as she went down the steps.

The altmer bit her lower lip, still trying to contain her laughter, and a weird sound came out when she tried to say, “sure.”

However, after she cleared her throat to give a proper response, the door opened even before Iduun could touch the handle, revealing none other than Farkas.

“Ah,” they said in unison, almost colliding.

“My bad,” he said as she nodded and made way for him to pass. “Thanks.”

Seeing how he barely looked at her, almost too anxious to go up the stairs as if he was after a certain someone, it was Iduun’s turn to bite her lower lip to avoid laughing. “No problem. Hey, Rannah?” She raised her voice on purpose, making not only Farkas but Rannah flinch all the way up there. “I think I’m passing the hunt for today, I’ll go back to bed for a bit.”

“Oh? Sure, good night, then.” Rannah’s voice replied from above, and Iduun saw how Farkas got a spring in his step as he went up. Just before Iduun closed the door, she heard Rannah’s tone sweeten considerably as she let out an exclamation of surprise. “Oh, Farkas… I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Yeah, I usually wake up at this time to train,” he scratched his head, his hands sweaty for some reason.

Iduun closed the door behind her, still hearing a bit of their conversation through the gaps.

She slowly made her way back to the communal room, enjoying each step she took through the hard wood floors, taking in even the slightest smell.

It was striking the difference of her mood between when she had left earlier that night to how she came back at dawn. Then, she could barely place herself in reality, let alone realize where she was stepping; now, she vividly saw each book, each misplaced sweet roll, each scratch on the wood.

By sharing her burdens, they had lightened their weight on her shoulders so much she felt on cloud nine. Her steps bore no sound at all and her chest was light as a feather.

Truly, they should spend more time together.

Even she was surprised at how well that meeting had gone, in spite of all that had happened between them.

Vilkas was a good man; a man with a good head on his shoulders, with a great sense of responsibility and a strong arm to have around in battle.

She looked up to him, as a person, as a Shield-Sibling, as a warrior and as a woman.

Not even realizing she was smiling as she sat back on bed, Iduun lay back down and closed her eyes thinking only that yes, they should spend more time together.

[twtd11]

After watching Hegemony, I no longer think that Batel is going to die. They’ve made her Gorn egg infection a Challenge for Starfleet and a Referendum on Pike’s Decision Making. If she doesn’t live, Pike looks like he made the wrong decision. And it looks like Starfleet can’t solve this problem. If it was only the Startfleet part, I’d say she was still possibly doomed. Starfleet can’t fix everything. But because it’s about both of those things, I think she has to live.

If someone does die, and I think someone will, my bet is either La’an or Erica, though I’m leaning more towards Erica. Flying that shuttle was basically one of the best days of Erica’s life. How does she grow beyond that? My bet is she conquers her fear and dies by doing something brave. Also, we really haven’t gotten to know her as well as the other characters. It’s, well, easier to kill her without massive backlash.

Also, we’ve already seen La’an sacrifice herself to save someone from the Gorn. I doubt we get the 2.0 version of that. Just like we probably won’t see Pelia die because how often can you really kill your chief engineer?

And I don’t see M’Benga dying, though I don’t have a great rational for why.

I think everyone else is safe by virtue of being on TOS.

Anyway, this is my theory. I’m happy being wrong though.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Find the Word Tag!

I was tagged by @tabswrites for this one! Thanks for the tag!

My words were: gently, fold, near, and glow

Snippets from Tales of Wilted Flowers.

Gently -

[...] His hand gently brushed against hers as they walked into the ballroom, a touch soft like a feather, trembling, almost unnoticed. She noticed. Eiralis held his hand in hers, turning to face him.

"What happened? Is everything alright?" She asked. It was most unlike him to seek comfort like this, and while not unwelcome, it was clear from how his pallor turned paper white that he was not okay - even though Rylisan was desperately trying to look the part.

He looked torn for a moment as if battling between telling her something and regretting his decision. Rylisan shook his head ever so slightly and gestured with it across the room, holding her hand a tad tighter than he intended to. His once soft eyes looked filled to the brim with hatred.

"No. They're here.... she's here."

Eiralis whirled around, looking in the direction he'd pointed to. And sure enough, there they were. Maeve Deinyra and Kallas Verehn - the worst wretched excuses for nobility on this side of the land, and the people who had gotten her love exiled. They certainly had mastered this game, and had she not known the full extent of their cruelty, she might've mistaken them for any common noble. Her narrowed eyes focused on the former.

The woman clad in crimson silk strutted into the room with more confidence than the princesses themselves, and there was something decidedly wolfish about the way she smiled as the elite gathered to shake hands with her gold-covered ones. Gold stolen by her scheming-bethothed, wandering hands Eiralis wanted nothing more than to break. Knowing what she did, Eiralis was glad to not be holding a glass, or she might've thrown it at Maeve herself.

"Don't worry, love," Eiralis said, forcing herself to look away from the vile couple. She'd never been more sure of something in her life. "We're going to kill them." [...]

Near -

[...] Faellyn frowned, half cringing as she realized how majorly screwed she was as those hurried footsteps echoed down the wooden staircase and a familiar face appeared shortly after, fuming with worry and anger. She opened her mouth to explain, but time had run out. 

“What were you thinking?!” Her guardian demands. “You were nearly caught. Do you realize that, if that King gets his hands on you, he will have you executed by sundown? How many times do I have to tell you: we will be clever about this. But no, you have to be just like your Father, don’t you? Is stupid heroics in your blood, or are you just trying to get us all killed?”

Faellyn sighs. Ahren’s paranoia was truly something else since she was little. Shadows on the wall turned to phantoms ready to suck their souls out, and doing what is right was just another way to die. This was no way to live and she was tired of running away every day. So she stepped up - even if stepping up meant undermining the treasonous fool who called himself king.

This wasn't really about her getting caught, Faellyn suspected. This was about Ahren's delusions of power - the plan that he had so carefully crafted for ten years to achieve a greatness that, for all his sacrifices, he wasn't so worthy of.

"You talk about my blood. My father was your uncle, you know. Do you forget that, cousin?"

Ahren paused, seemingly thinking about it, before continuing his rant with the same stubborn fury as he had moments prior.

“Not by blood, most certainly not," Ahren said, scoffing with an angry smile. He looked slightly childish. "I was his ward, I made a vow. I do what I have to do. And I’m not breaking that vow because you and the bunch of weirdos you call friends want to be the hero to save everyone. I don't care about everyone. That never did him any good, and it certainly won’t do to us. I won’t throw away my only chance to get what I want for once, just because you insist on following his doomed footsteps.” [...]

Fold -

Caladin folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the inn's stony wall, amused.

"So what do you suggest?" He asked, leisurely, stretching his legs so that they rest upon the table before them. Micah and Lorelai looked at each other, mischief written in their smiles, as they moved to explain their plan.

"If the journal is correct, and it has been so far, Lord Eldryc is tracing the location of those strange jewels. From what I am guessing, they used to be an ancient artifact. He wants something, and if the monsters we saw down those woods are any indication, it's nothing good." Lorelai explained, laying down the journal on the table and pointing to the scattered notes that matched her suspicion. Caladin shuddered at a specific drawing of what looked like a living corpse, nodding swiftly for her to carry on.

"The last time an artifact like that was seen it was in the hands of Meridian Grimshail's navy, also known as the Scourge of Lydean Seas. We find where the artifact came from, we may - emphasis on that - find out what the High Sorcerer is up to."

Caladin scrambled into a straightened position, interrupting her explanation with a doubtful look. "Wait, wait, wait. Hold on, how can you be so sure? Meridian disappeared from the map years ago, and most of what is left is pure myth. I'm not risking my neck if our best plan is based on a storybook tale. Do we even know if that guy even had that thing?"

Lorelai smirked, gesturing towards Micah, who started rifling through his bag. He pulled out a small pouch and pulled out a handful of the contents. A small, broken shard shimmered like starlight on his tan skin. He quickly pocketed it before anyone else saw it.

"...I'll be damned." That was all Caladin could say. [...]

Glow -

Something glowed in the woods above like two bright golden eyes floating in the darkness. The forests went silent. No bird sang, no leaf fell. The living trees stopped whispering, and that was even more terrifying. Holding up their flickering lantern, Lorelai saw Xarian pull out his daggers. Behind them, Eiralis piped up.

"No, you shouldn't do tha - "

Vines shot up from the ground, as large as tree trunks, as fast as striking snakes. The earth beneath them crumpled as roots turned sharp and braided themselves onto more vines, wrapping around their boots and legs, immobilizing them. Except for Eiralis, around whom the attacking vines never wrapped, leaving a clearing beneath her. She bit her lip, awkwardly.

Then it all stopped. There was a gush of wind, and something blocked what dim light streaked from the trees above. Whatever or whoever it was seemed to have wings, like a hawk or an eagle, but much, much larger. She saw figures move on the corner of her eyes, from all directions. By the way the vines were constricting her, and how the thorns poked dangerously at her skin, she decided to stay still.

A second barely passed by, and the next time she blinked, someone was standing right in front of them. Someone who looked like a faery, but not quite - more wild, more bird-like. A dryad, she recognized them from the stories. Human-killers, defenders of forests. A pair of glowing golden eyes scrutinized her and the party behind her with ruthless precision, as the other figures - more dryads - disarmed them all.

Lorelai noted that one of his horns was broken.

"You shouldn't have brought them here, Eira. You know the rules about their kind, about this. They're monsters, assassins - disgusting filth that should not step foot on these grounds. Why would you put yourself in such company?"

He spoke in a language Lorelai couldn't understand. It wasn't Elvish and certainly wasn't common Faetongue. But from the way they spoke and looked at them all with such disdain, she knew it was nothing good. It felt like the words they were saying had a venom they needed to spit out.

Behind her, Lorelai saw Eiralis move, walking up to the figure. It was clear, somehow, that they knew each other. This exchange felt oddly familiar, in a way. Her suspicions were confirmed when her friend answered in the same sharp, unknown language.

"Let them go, Kaellel. There's a dangerous human approaching, a dark Sorcerer. He'll come back and this time he'll burn down our lands if we don't stop him. He'll kill you. He'll kill our clan. Please, let them help. Lord Eldryc is the one you should hunt down - you know him. Let them go."

The young man glared, silent. For a moment, Lorelai feared he would order his soldiers to kill them right then and there. But he didn't. The vines slithered away, back into the earth where they came from, called by him. Without saying a word, his soldiers disappeared back into the forest.

"You must prove what you say is true. For now, I'll let them go, and they stand an audience with the Elders. But they are your responsibility." For the first time, he spoke in their language, very fluently despite a sharp accent. Clearly, he intended for them to understand, but did not address them.

"The humans have their chance, sister. Don't prove me right, or I will slit their throats."

With that, he flew off into the darkness, leaving them in stunned silence. The party turned to Eiralis in unison, trying to make sense of all they'd just witnessed and heard. She rubbed the back of her neck, awkwardly twirling her hair in her fingers.

"... Um," She started, tentatively, with a soft, out-of-place laugh. "At least you're meeting my family?" [...]

Tagging: @oh-no-another-idea , @gummybugg, @sm-writes-chaos, @unstablewifiaccess, @lassiesandiego, @cabbojage , @the-mindless , @clairelsonao3 , @rickie-the-storyteller , @writernopal @thewardenofwinter, @lassiesandiego and @elshells

(Your words are: screech, treat, fight and loath)

[too-many-pockets]

CHAPTER ONE GUYS!!!

I hope you enjoy my life’s work 😘

I’m sorta proud :)

—————————————————

Chapter One

Nyx Yasuhiro was a hero. It was in her name. That was her role, and she was okay with that. In fact, she was quite happy. She loved the cheering crowds, the happy people, saving lives, all that stuff. But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, there were downsides too. She couldn’t save everyone. And it tore her apart. She hated hearing the news, the articles, the horrified look on people’s faces when she couldn’t help their loved ones. The worst was when the ones she couldn’t save, were the ones she had to fight in the end. A sound comes from her living room, so she quickly heads over to check it out. Her TV was on. Of course, what else would it be? She chided herself for the little bit of anxiety she felt. She walked over and plopped down on the couch, watching the TV intently.

“News flash!” The TV sounded, “50 important officials have been burned alive while at an important meeting! The culprit is still at large, though it is theorized to be the infamous villain, whose identity has still not been confirmed.” She turned the TV off. That was enough. She threw herself into action, changing into her usual outfit. It was nothing special, a loose, long sleeve shirt with a chestplate like piece of metal on top, along with baggy cargo pants with lots of pockets and metal knee pads. She pulled on her combat boots; they were expensive but they were metal toed so they were worth it. She also had a mask on, so she pulled it up to hide her face. Finally, she tied some of her black hair into a small ponytail, leaving the rest to hang. She rushed out the door to get to the scene.

When she finally got there, the fire was all but extinguished. She flashed her face at the guards and they frantically let her through. She slowly walked around the building, taking in every detail. She noticed a pair of ash black footprints leading around the corner, so of course, she followed them.

She reached the end of the footsteps but there was… nothing. No, there had to be something, someone, here. There had to be. She frantically whipped her head around.

“So what are we looking for, little dove?” Nyx felt herself being pulled by the waist toward someone. No. Not someone. Her arch nemesis. The villain. Her enemy. Her… well she doesn’t actually know her name. Nobody did. She was just called ‘the villain’, or ‘villain’ by the public.

“I don’t like to be ignored, darling.”

Nyx refused to turn around.

“Shut up. You did this, didn’t you?” She demanded. The villain’s response was to softly grab her chin with one gloved hand and force her to turn around and face her.

“Now now my dear, you know I don’t leave my works of art like this~” She replied. As much as she hated it, Nyx knew she was right. Obviously, she wouldn’t call them works of art, but the scenes were never this sloppy. She had spent way too much time analyzing every detail.

“See? You believe me dove.” The other woman smirked.

“Stop calling me that.” Nyx responded with a scowl.

“Then tell me your name.”

“You know I won’t do that.”

That was the rule. She didn’t know Nyx's name, Nyx didn’t know hers.

The woman sighed. “Then what will you call me? I don’t think ‘villain’ is going to stick for as long as we’ll be together.” She said. As long as they’ll be together? What did she mean by that? She decided to let it go for now, instead trying to focus on a name. Nyx actually didn’t know what to call her. She went through a list of possible names before deciding on…

“Siren. I’ll call you Siren.” The name felt right on her tongue. After all, a Siren was a seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men, and in Greek mythology the siren's song would lure men to their doom often causing shipwrecks and chaos. Fitting, she was a villain after all. Even as much as she hated to admit it, Siren was quite attractive. Nyx stepped out of Siren's grasp, pulling her arms off her waist. She looked at her closely. Her skin was suspiciously pale, some kind of skin condition probably, but Nyx didn't, or rather never cared to, ask. She was wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt and a black jacket with large sleeves hung loosely below her shoulders. Two long pieces of fabric hung off the back of her jacket almost reaching the floor. She also wore sleek black leggings that hugged her figure. Her outfit was completed by her own combat boots which were, of course, black.

“Siren? Hm~ I like that. It has a nice ring to it.” Her voice was smooth, like the coo of a dove, it just made you want to hear more. Nyx hated it. She hated everything about that cocky asshole. She hated her white hair that she just left in a messy wolf cut. She hated how it glowed in the moonlight. She hated how sometimes, she just couldn’t look away. How she felt a small part of her melt whenever Siren grabbed her. She pushed those feelings to the back of her mind, focusing on her mission for the time being.

“So. If you didn’t do this, who did?” Nyx’s tone was flat and unamused.

“Oh come on, don’t be like that love~” Siren pouted.

“Who. Did. It.” Nyx asked again, her voice gaining a bit of an edge.

“Oh you’re so cute when you’re angry~” Siren smirked. Nyx felt her blood boil. “Buttt~ I don’t know. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, you’ve always been the smart one.”

“Then what do I need you for?” A small smile grew on Nyx’s face. She could end this conversation and turn this villain in right now. Throw her in jail for the rest of her life and solve this crime herself.

“Isn’t it obvious…?~” Siren smirks. Her hand snakes itself around Nyx’s waist once more and she brings her face to the other woman’s neck. Nyx’s face flushed a bit as she felt her hot breath against her skin. Siren looked up at her through her lashes, those big red eyes with a pinch of purple sucked her in like an endless void. “My pretty face~” Her voice was soft and she said it in this, way. As if she was teasing someone. Nyx’s brain was moving a mile a minute, her heart was beating out of her chest, her face felt on fire and it was taking everything to keep herself together. It wasn’t like she liked this, as if she liked her, it was just the proximity! She would be like this no matter the person! She pushed Siren, who was now laughing uncontrollably, away.

“I can solve this myself!” She yelled louder than she meant to.

“No, you can’t. And you know it.” Siren sighed. Nyx knew she was right.

“Well it doesn’t need to be you.” Nyx also knew that was probably not true. Siren sighed again.

“Fine. I’ll be back though, and you will accept my help, won’t you?” She said the last question in a voice so persuasive, she felt like she could never say no to her again.

“Yes.” She hated how small her voice sounded at that moment.

“Yes what?” Siren smirked, she knew exactly what she was doing. Exactly how she sounded.

“You know what-”

“Yes what, darling?” Siren interrupted, grabbing Nyx’s face again, swiping her thumb across her cheek.

“Yes you can help me.” She said again. She hated how quickly and eagerly she answered. “But right after I’m going to arrest you!” She quickly added.

“Good girl.’’ Siren smirked, then disappeared.

Nyx inwardly groaned. Why did she give in everytime? Whatever. She just needed to get this done. Probably some escaped convict or whatever.

***

She looked around, taking in her surroundings. I’m just looking for clues, not for her, she tried to convince herself. She spotted a young girl with strawberry blonde hair in a pair of pigtails alone on a step. She had a puffy polka-dotted dress on, she looked no older than 6. She was rocking slightly, her knees were as close to her chest as she could get them with her feet having to be on a different step.

“Hello.” Nyx spoke in a soft voice as she approached the child. She understood how scary it could be to witness or even lose someone this way. “What’s your name sweetie?”

The girl looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy, she’d probably been crying. She sniffled.

“Hello Ms. Lady…” Her voice was quiet and quivering. She was hiccuping as well. “My name is Amara”

Nyx leaned down to meet the girl's eyes and smiled softly. The girl didn’t look at her in turn, instead staring just slightly over her shoulder. She quickly checked to see if anyone was in earshot, then she replied. “My name is Nyx.” She put a finger to her lips. “But my name is a big big secret, so you have to pinky promise not to tell anyone, alright?” The girl's eyes met hers for just a moment and lit up before she quickly looked away once more. Nyx extended her pinky, it seemed like she liked promises. Amara hesitantly stuck her pinky out and they intertwined, marking a promise.

“Ms Nyx, are you here to find the bad person?” Amara asked. Nyx chuckled.

“Yeah, I am. Can you tell me what you’re doing here?”

“My daddy was going to this place, so me and mommy went to surprise him when he came outside but…” The girl's voice trailed off. Nyx didn't need to hear the rest. “Mommy says he’s in this place called the hospital. She's really worried and she's crying.” Nyx’s heart broke for the poor woman. Imagine going to surprise your husband with your young daughter and then the whole building just bursts into flames with your husband still inside. She must have been rushed to the hospital with her husband, but then, why is Amara here? Why not with her mother?

“Can you tell me where your mother is, Amara?” She tried to sound as calm as possible, but if this child was just left here with nothing and no one, what would happen? “Who are you here with?”

“Uhm, Mommy is with Daddy in the big white car that flashes, and I'm here with my uncle because I hate that car. It's too loud.” Amara flapped her hands, as if even recalling the memory of the ambulance was painful. Still, Nyx breathed a sigh of relief. Her uncle, that was good, but where was he? She looked around.

“Where is he?” She couldn't see anyone near them…

“He’s over there, I think.” Amara pointed around a corner. “He said he was going for a ‘smoke break’ but I don't know what that means.” For some reason, this angered Nyx. This little girl just probably lost her father, and her mother was in despair, trusting this man, her ‘uncle’, to take care of her, and he was gone without a thought to even explain to her where he was! She’d have a word with him, that was for sure.

“Thank you, you’ve been a big help. I’m going to go for a bit,” She paused. She didn't want Amara to leave while she was gone, or be left alone… “In the meantime, my friend here is gonna keep you company, alright?” She handed the girl a small teddy bear. To anyone else, it would be a completely wholesome moment, but the teddy bear actually had a camera and she could hear sound through it. Some creep sent it to her a while ago and she had hacked into it and repurposed it. Now, it connected to a pair of earrings she wore. In short, she could hear whatever Amara could. She hadn't thought of what to do with the visual though, so she just turned it off.

Nyx then left the girl and went to see this uncle of hers. She turned the corner, looking for anyone who looked out of the ordinary, when she saw a man in a polished black suit. He had half circle gold rimmed glasses with slicked back grayish black hair and brown eyes. He looked, for lack of a better word, old. All was normal, except for the fact he was slumped over on the ground with a masked person and another person she could not see standing over him.

Nyx immediately hid around the corner, trying to overhear their conversation. She strained her ears, but could only hear Amara’s childish babbles. She turned off her earrings for the moment, hoping nothing would happen while she couldn’t hear, and the extra sounds disappeared. “Her…end…kid…here?...yes…” No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't tell who was speaking when. The other person looked her way and she dove behind some boxes, praying they didn't see her. Her prayers were quickly discarded when she heard footsteps coming her way. She peered around the wall. It looked like the figure had sent the masked man after her while he was leaving with Amara’s uncle. She silently cursed, but she didn't have time to worry about that right now, as she was being hunted by a big meaty monster! A sweaty fist landed directly beside her hiding spot, crushing a box. Quickly, another punch landed close enough to graze her face. She touched her cheek. There was blood on her fingers.

She barely avoided another hit when she decided that it was time to hit back. Nyx swung at the man's nose and it broke with a satisfying crunch. He was knocked back and she took the chance to punch him square in between the eyes. Blood splattered onto her knuckles as the man fell to the ground, dazed. She straddled him and continued to punch him in the face. Once he was thoroughly roughed up, she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled his face to her own and ripped his mask off his face. He looked as one would expect, tan skin, shaggy messed up hair, missing a tooth or two from Nyx’s beating. She suppressed her glint of pride.

“Who do you work for? What are you doing here? What do you want with that man?” She questioned.

A look of horror crossed the man’s face. “I-” Suddenly, the man's face erupted with blood, spraying all over Nyx’s clothes and face. She froze. The man slumped onto her, his cold body resting on hers, dead. He was dead. She looked up. The figure she saw before was staring directly at her, gun in hand. They were warning her. This wasn’t the simple case she first thought it was. She didn't know what to think. She looked at the body that had now fallen off her to the floor. Its dead eyes were glassy and empty. They stared back at her, expressionless. When she looked back up, the figure was gone.

She got up. Amara. She needed to go check on her. Nyx ran over to where she had left the girl. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was still there.

“Ms Nyx!” Amara smiled. She had the teddy safely coddled in her arms. “What's that red stuff on your face?” Nyx’s eyes widened. She realized she hadn't taken the time to clean herself up, she was so caught up with Amara she didn't even think about it. Now that she did, the reality of the situation crushed her like a boulder. This little girl was left alone now, both her parents were in the hospital and her uncle was who knows where. There was no choice, she couldn't leave this child here alone. She would have to take her in.

Suddenly she was struck by a wave of nausea, so aggressive it almost knocked her over. She fell to her knees, her head was pounding and her heart crashed against her chest. She realized she was bleeding much worse than before, but she didn't know why. Before she knew it, it all went black.

***

Siren picked up her hero’s unconscious body. What a silly girl~ She always pushes herself too hard. Look at where that got her. Siren couldn’t be too harsh, after all the girl was a hero.

“What are you doing with Ms Nyx?” A small voice asked. Siren turned. Behind her stood a small, shivering girl who looked on the verge of tears. Ms Nyx? Was that her wonderful hero's name?

“Don’t worry dear, I'm simply taking her home. Where is your guardian?” Siren hated to admit it, and she never would, but she had a soft spot for children. They were so innocent, not at all like her. She didn't want any child to have to go through what she did.

“Ms Nyx went looking for my uncle because I didn't know where he was and he wasn't coming back and now she's like this and-” The child broke down into tears, flapping her arms aggressively and rocking as if to regulate herself. Siren carried Nyx over to her. Obviously if Nyx went looking for this man and she came back like this…

“Would you like to come with me to make sure she's okay?” This way she could keep the child in her sights, keep her safe. The child gave a small nod. “Then come, follow me and let's go.” She carried the hero, whose head was unknowingly resting on her enemy's shoulder. Siren smiled. Nyx would never live this down, she’d make sure of it.

***

Later in the night, after she had gotten Nyx in her bed and patched up, she left Amara to sleep in the spare room with that teddy bear, you know, the one with the camera and audio device? Yeah, Siren knew. It wasn’t that hard to figure out. She was only upset because some creep had attempted to see her love. She made a mental note to deal with it later. She was about to leave the room after sitting by Nyx’s bed for a while, when she felt a hand grab her wrist. Nyx sleepily muttered a few words, but all Siren could interpret was “Stay.” Siren smirked. This was just getting better and better, she thought. She climbed into the small twin sized bed beside Nyx, pressing against her to avoid falling off. Nyx snuggled into her embrace, grabbing Sirens arms and wrapping them around herself. Eventually, after plenty of staring and smirking, Siren fell asleep beside her.

***

[no-where-new-hero]

Okay, time for the movie rant because Kilmeny needs more processing time—

So, a few weeks ago, I saw this movie called 비상 (Flight/Fly High), and it was one of those movies that was kind of mediocre but had just enough promise for good to stick irresistibly in my brain, because it was one of the most thematically rich movies I’ve seen in a while. Mind you, I saw it in about five pixels on someone’s YouTube upload because the movie is obscure and ancient, but analysis here we go (cw for discussing attempted suicide and death)

Plot: Boy meets Sad Girl. Boy falls in love with Sad Girl. Sad Girl attempts to kill herself because of some traumatic history with her parents that’s very poorly explained. Because Boy loves her, he makes himself responsible for her care as she recovers from her psychic break. Boy turns to a life in the underworld to get the money to support her, becomes a male escort, later joins a gang, and eventually becomes the Biggest Boss after a gratuitously long fistfight. He renounces his life of crime and resolves to build a life with Sad Girl (who is still Sad and suffering through reams of trauma that is never adequately resolved). As Boy and Girl flee in the middle of the night, a mysterious nobody jumps out of the shadows and stabs Boy to death. Exeunt dramatis personae, Finis.

Now, at like two a.m. when I finished watching this, I just kind of sat there for five minutes being like—what the fuck did I just watch? Is he really dead? And what was the point of crafting a hundred minute movie if it was going to end with him dying in the last two minutes of it?

But then the whole film kept haunting me, and I realized that the end really wasn’t random at all, that Boy had been doomed by the narrative from the start, and that this was, in fact, one of the better examples I’ve seen of that kind of tragedy. See, near the beginning, Boy—who wanted to become an actor before all the other things he was forced to do—acts out a scene in front of Girl that directly mirrors his actual death scene (getting stabbed and dying like a dog in the rain). Girl gets angry that he’s making light of death, as someone who was going to invite it herself, but already, Boy was taking the fall for her. He was the one knocking on the door asking for the devil, and finally, at the end, the devil decided to answer. The fact that it comes at the hands of someone unknown or invisible, only a shadow on the screen, makes it all the more symbolic: it’s anonymous, the striking force of fate. Once you walk into the darkness, the darkness will never let you go. Once you get your hands dirty, you can’t live clean again.

There was another suggestive scene about halfway through: while Boy was an escort, he befriended another sex worker who kind of shits on him for pretending he’s different from her and throws a glass of whiskey in his face. In defiance, he upends the entire bottle of whiskey over his head and flicks on a lighter, as though he was going to set himself on fire (yes, I was also like Sir Stop Being So Extra This is a Wendy’s.) “I have someone to protect,” he tells the worker. He has someone he’s willing to die for, as though Girl being an open flame in his hands would make him pure—as though having someone to be noble for would save him. He’s idealistic, stupidly idealistic for his life. Because nobility has no currency in this world. He makes bad choices for the right reason—love—but love is also insufficient here. Many characters tell him that, that love won’t be enough, and we see, repeatedly through side characters, that neither will friendship or loyalty. And they aren’t; true things can’t be. In this world, it’s the performance that’s important. It’s the illusion of violence and intimidation and power. The sex worker tells him this when she confesses her story to him early on. Even Boy lies to Girl about how he’s making his money in order to preserve her innocence or make himself look better. All of life is performance, and the performance is life. He was doomed to die as soon as he made a farce of it, before the whole weight of the story mowed him down.

There are other moments—the sex worker desperately wanting someone to love and being punished for it. Boy lying at the edge of the sea like Girl when she tried to die. The two actress who play the sex worker and Girl look eerily similar to each other, as though they represent parallel lives separated only by circumstance and bridged by Boy’s existence. The three of them are caught in a triangle of false hope and certain death. It’s incredibly potent and honestly some fabulous thematic structuring. There was almost a little too much theme and not enough else, in some ways, which is why some other aspects of the movie fell flat: it reduced motivation and character development, to have this insistent sense of fate and doom hanging over everyone. But as far as tragedies go, it was weirdly fulfilling.

[chryzuree]

I require a RANT !! What ship/au/dynamic/what have you has been PLAGUING you with brainrot?

GENWALDDDDD, i’ve been thinking abt genwald like NONstop, they’re soooo. jst sooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i jst love how doomed they’ve been frm the start!!!!!! oswald was NEVER going to fully be capable of loving genevieve the way she deserved… he was first beholden to protecting lacie, then to learning how to become the next glen. he was prepping to have Oswald be wiped clean so that he could become Glen, so he tried to make sure he made no lasting attachments… but then gen waltzed in and he fell in love anyway. so he spends the whole time denying himself that love (and denying her that love), and it’s sooo miserable.

but gen won’t give up!!!! she loves him too!!! and he’s so kind to her. she won’t accept any other suitor! not when oswald’s the only one that listens to her chatter and that engages in her hobbies and cares abt her! it’s like learning how fresh fruit tastes, then being forced to go back to canned fruit. she won’t let that happen to herself. she won’t accept anything less than this love she’s found!

oswald lets her in the cracks of his armor, jst a little… it’s the only human contact he feels he can truly have for himself, and he knows it’s selfish, but surely it’s fine in small increments, yes? but he still keeps a distance between them—worse still, now that he’s glen…

and that’s where they begin and end. a sweet flirtatious dance. stolen glances and “accidental” meetings and brief moments where his knuckles brush hers before he has to leave again.

then oswald kills her. he kills her, and gen doesn’t know why. she just knows that her lover—who she thought was her lover, but as she bleeds out, did he love her, did she know him at all?—stabbed her right through the heart and didn’t apologize. didn’t tell her why.

she was dead before she could feel him kiss her for first time. she doesn’t know that he did it to save her the same torment that he’ll experience one day. she doesn’t know that even after all this, she won’t get to see him again in the afterlife. he’s banned from the 100 year cycle, he’s doomed to become a chain, he was never hers, even though that was all she ever wanted.

in conclusion:

[pageliveblogscomics]

Oh, Susan Storm as a hostage? I haven’t seen that since issue #3! Also, Reed, it doesn’t really do much good to tell him that after he’s grabbed it. I think he knows.

For the second time in a row though, I think Sue’s thought process as she’s giving herself up to the villain in order to save the world is really cool. She seems pretty damn fearless about it. Looking back at the other issues, Sue is pretty clearly the most determined member of the Fantastic Four, and that’s with the time that the Thing strapped a nuclear bomb to his back.

Thing wants to save Sue and is upset about her being a hostage, and Johnny is worried about them all just getting killed, but what about Reed? On the next page Doom says Reed just can’t resist learning what Doom wants with them, and I think that’s a reasonable read on him, but maybe too uncharitable. Reed wants to know, sure, but if that was enough, he wouldn’t need a hostage. You could even read this as Doom thinking negatively about Reed and Reed giving Doom too much credit and thinking he won’t actually just try to murder them, but Reed talked up his evilness earlier, so I’m not sure.