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saras-devotionals · 11 months ago

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Quiet Time 5/25

What Am I Feeling Today?

I pray that you all forgive me! I’ve completely fell off with posting my quiet times and I feel horrible about it! I want to be held accountable and I will try my absolute best to go back to posting daily! Also, I’m feeling a bit stressed because I have a trip coming up and I’ve never been that far from home and the day after I come back I start my new job so if you could all pray for me to have peace of mind and trust that God will allow everything to align the way it’s supposed to, I’d really appreciate it.♥️

Ruth 1 NIV

(v. 5) “both Mahlon and Kilion also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband.”

‭‭I felt like reading the book of Ruth because I wished to know more about the women in the Bible and the role they played. I wish to be encouraged by them and to mimic their great qualities. This stood out to me because Naomi left her home town because of famine with her family and now they’re all dead, my heart hurts for her, it’s must’ve been a terrible grief to deal with.

(v. 6-10) “When Naomi heard in Moab that the Lord had come to the aid of his people by providing food for them, she and her daughters-in-law prepared to return home from there. With her two daughters-in-law she left the place where she had been living and set out on the road that would take them back to the land of Judah. Then Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back, each of you, to your mother’s home. May the Lord show you kindness, as you have shown kindness to your dead husbands and to me. May the Lord grant that each of you will find rest in the home of another husband.” Then she kissed them goodbye and they wept aloud and said to her, “We will go back with you to your people.””

It’s sweet to know that she at least had her two daughters in law but I understand where she was coming from. They were still young (I assume), they could’ve stayed in Moab because that’s where they’re from, they could’ve found other husbands, they were under no obligation to go with Naomi.

(v. 14) “At this they wept aloud again. Then Orpah kissed her mother-in-law goodbye, but Ruth clung to her.”

Correct me if I’m wrong but there wasn’t anything inherently wrong about Orpah leaving? She was given a choice and she had free will, I don’t see that there was at all a ‘wrong’ decision that could’ve been made.

(v. 16-18) “But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.” When Naomi realized that Ruth was determined to go with her, she stopped urging her.”

This really speaks to how much Ruth loved and trusted Naomi! She was willing to leave her whole life behind and go and follow her and her God and to stay with her. This is admirable, to have this sort of connection and relationship. In a sense, I believe it’s how we should view God, that nothing should be able to urge us away from Him!

(v. 19-21) “So the two women went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they arrived in Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them, and the women exclaimed, “Can this be Naomi?” “Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.””

For reference, Naomi means pleasant and Mara means bitter. She was bitter because of the deaths of her husband and sons. I can’t understand the pain she must’ve gone through but we’re instructed not to hold on to bitterness, it hardens our hearts, and even in trials and suffering we’re meant to praise God through it all. I know that’s easier said than done but also, would you rather rely and trust in His love? Or allow yourself to be consumed by bitterness, anger, and grief?

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lettersonlosingdad · 2 years ago

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What I write when a friend loses a parent

First off, you never need to respond to this. Second, life is unfair and this sucks and is awful and I am so so sorry you are going through it.

I won’t tell you it gets easier to live without them, but I promise it does get easier to remember the good times, to hear their favorite song on the radio and not change it, to order their favorite drink on their birthday at a bar and not have to wipe away more than just a tear or two while you smile. There is another side to this pain and grief where it lives with you instead of against you, when it settles in your heart instead of squeezing it tight.

Don’t be afraid to say their name and mention them in stories to anyone. The first time someone you don’t know well asks about them and you have to say that they’re gone, your heart will race. The “oh I’m so sorry” and pity on their faces is something you somehow get used to. “Oh they passed away” will roll off your tounge one day and yet you’ll still pick up the phone to call them sometimes when sitting in traffic. There’s a strange thing that will happen to time- it divides into before they left and after and yet sometimes that line gets blurry. I always reach for my phone to call dad when I’m putting gas in my car. I say hi to him in my head now. It helps a little.

Lastly, if you’re feeling numb right now, that is fine. If you can’t stop crying, that is fine. If you want to go back to work and life and just ignore this terrible unfair cruel thing that has happened; that is fine. There is no right way to deal with this. And if you want someone to talk to, or someone to watch old movies with and not talk at all, I am here.

#losing a parent #letters to dad #losing dad #loss and grief #grief #loss

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atypicalacademic · 2 years ago

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Writerly Thumbprint Tag

Rules: look back on your work, both past and present, finished and unfinished. what are five (or more!) narrative elements, themes, topics or tropes that continuously pop up in your work?

Thank you @dirty-bosmer so much for this tag!! I needed some time to go over my stuff and the WIP Hall of Shame. Tagging @cumbiazevran @greyvvardenfell @ollifree @aria-i-adagio @cleverblackcat just to see. This is a super interesting one and I’m really happy I had the chance to do this.

Also I’d add South Asian cultural elements as a Thing in my writing but I feel like that goes without saying, honestly. But let’s see what else:

Living Past Your Legend/The Tale Itself Is A Bittersweet Epilogue

A lot of my “protagonists” grapple with the fact of an After. Where your personhood is buried beneath the weight of your legend, and you can no longer afford to make human (or divine) mistakes, to be a hero is sometimes a kind of death. Literal, in some cases, when you are what’s left of a hero who is gone. Or figurative, when you are the hero that survives the final battle, and realize there is no such thing as a final battle. You’re adored and reviled, you’re expected to do the impossible again and again and again, and all the things you’ve done on the path to “victory” will come back to haunt you. I have protagonists who fade away into obscurity, overshadowed by someone else, but I also like to torment my more powerful protagonists by having them crumble time and again under the weight of what they’ve become. It’s fun. Everything has a cost, after all. Which leads me to-

Actions and Consequences

It is pretty obvious, but I do like leaning into this once again with my more “glorious”, strong, heroic protagonists. If everything has a cost and you choose it anyway, you are beholden to bear the burden of it. There are lost friends or cycles of vengeance or terrible, irreversible mistakes in their path. So too are there places of love and adoration and kindness and courage. As there are hurts and griefs and things you’ll leave behind because you chose something else. As there are limits, inadequacies, blind spots that are insurmountable. I usually don’t let my characters get away with much. They’re not always enough, and they’re never, ever always right.

Legacy and Memory

I put a lot of interspersed memories into a lot of my stories; often from formative experiences of my character’s youth or childhood. Several of my characters are concerned to obsessed with their legacy, with what they’ll leave behind, and how they will be remembered. Or they give everything to preserve the legacy of someone else; a parent they’ve lost, a People, a loved one, or a time or a world that is beyond them now. To that end, a lot of my characters, indeed most of them, have complicated families. Not always devoid of love, (though sometimes that’s the case) but always imperfect, always a resistance and an acceptance at once, always something of a journey. It often hurts to hold this endless project so close, especially since legacy is contentious, complicated, and you fall short or exceed it, or you’re only mortal and can only remember so much. But I don’t think you can escape what you’re made of, only build something good with it.

Freedom

It could be political freedom, or being stifled by the lack of it. It could be the freedom of and from resistance, it could be the terror and trauma of having freedom taken away. It could be the freedom of self-determination and self-affirmation, of finding your way past fear and violence and the trespass of others to know the intrinsic value of your own life, your own personhood. It’s the freedom to begin again, and the freedom to let go of what once was. To some of my characters, it’s also the freedom from the weight of a single narrative, from inevitabilities imposed upon them, from a quest they took upon themselves when they did not need to, from the shadow of everyone else. A lot of my “good” romances have freedom as central to it; whether they’re endgame or not, love is something that sets them free.

This World Is Worth Saving

My heroes are never too reluctant. (Even the ones that are.) I like thinking joy is central to the journeys of a lot of my characters; finding it, recognizing it, sometimes realizing it is enough. And with it, is an understanding that a world which, even in the best of times and the worst of times, can still contain joy, is still worth the fight to protect it. Even if you may not be enough. Even if you may be fleeting. Even if you’re only one of many. Even if no one saved you to begin with. Whenever I do write characters who don’t love the world and never come to love the world, they’re hollowed and empty in many ways, and both me and the narrative are convinced that they’re wrong, and the tragedy is that they came so close to seeing the world is vast and worthy of care, and chose to ignore it. In such cases, no matter how many victories they may have, I always give them a tinge of defeat.

#haha #i liked doing this it was fun #i feel kind of embarassingly pretentious now lol

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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There was a Girl...

Pairing | Jace Wayland x reader

Summary | When Clary becomes a shadowhunter, she notices how cold and ruthless Jace is. Every one seems to relate to his pain, not resonating at quite the same level. They’re all mourning nevertheless.

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief smut (handjob), angst, heartbreak, unrequited feelings (for Clary)

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Opening your eyes, you awoke to Jace's chest, his blonde hair falling over his face. You preferred how it looked when it was a little bit scruffy instead of slicked back, and you reached for one of the hanging strands. They were like seams of gold, reflecting from the light that hid within him.

Most people had the wrong perspective on the young man, they only saw a well skilled shadow hunter. But they ignored the smart and witty, yet simultaneously charming person that he was underneath all of his runes. His parabatai Alec was familiar with the set of abilities that his brother figure had, and all that he would accomplish. People thought, because of Jace’s distorted, and confusing past, that he was just another warrior to serve whatever institute that he was sent to.

But in fact, he was not. His duty would always be, to put his family and friends first. He liked to put you on the top of the list, but you always felt the need to scrap that idea, claiming that you could not be his priority from start to finish. It was as though you knew what you future held for you, and how indeed, he could not manage to protect every person that he cared about. The prospect was a great responsibility, far too much for one shadow hunter, even if they be among the best of their kind.

To put such a weight on your own shoulders was defiantly cruel, it would always end in failure, no matter what was done to prevent said downfall. There was never a possibility of saving everyone, that was insanity. The monsters had to kill, in order for you all to remain outside of Idris, and continue on with your heaven sent duty.

“Jace?” You could tell he was awake from how he smiled at the sound of your voice. “Come on.” It was an attempt to encourage him, but you were quick to realise that it wasn’t working. He didn’t like mornings all that much, for good reason too, after all you were shadowhunters.

“Jace.” Your voice became louder and clearer, up to the point where it no longer sounded like your own. He looked away from the screen, to see the new girl watching him. She had an expectant glaze to her green eyes, which were much different from the shield that was covering his own. His pools were surrounded by a shadow of grief, pulling down the entirety of his face to the point where it looked as though he no longer wanted to live.

And that wasn’t entirely incorrect, he struggled at life, often never finding a moment of happiness, and if he did, then he would paint a smile upon his face and wear it to satisfy everyone else around. He had tried to cope with the loss that burdened his heart so gravely, yet nothing made it feel okay. You’d want him to move on, whether it be to lose his vengeful esteem concerning your passing, or find someone else to confide in late at night, to stay up with talking as his head rested upon the pillow, that he needed to wash, so it didn’t smell like you.

Or even, if not to share a bed with this new person, your overall plan as you sat with the angels above would be to find some kind of peace. But that appeared to be the last thing that he wanted as he digitally scoured the city of New York for monsters to uncover, and kill. If he couldn’t protect you, the love of his life, then he would settle for doing so with humans, after all, that had been the way that you had gone. The job had been your passion, yet simultaneously your downfall, and he’d be fine if one of these days he failed to tackle a beast, and it got to him first.

“Clary.” He greeted her, wanting to remove a dangerous monster from the streets by decapitating it. In memory, he would use your favourite blade, spilling blood upon its glowing stake to keep your legacy continuing, although, it did not do much but serve to release Jace’s frustrations. It was a day in which he wanted to speak to nobody, have nobody following him, nor asking him mundane questions about what it meant to be a shadowhunter. Hell, he didn’t even know! To him, the lifestyle was nothing more than accommodated anguish, though, he had been told not to promote it using those words, otherwise, there wouldn’t exactly be many people lining up to join the adverse fight.

And one of the people that he had in mind concerning excitement over a dire and ‘exciting’ lifestyle was Clary. She was naive, and whilst she didn’t know everything, today wasn’t particularly the day in which he wished to explain it to her. It, being predominantly anything. Whilst he had managed to be nice to her during the first few days, it was out of courtesy, considering Alec had an instant distaste towards the wide eyed redhead; he wasn’t sure why, but he supposed that Clary could see a detail of himself that was hidden from the others.

However, even through Jace’s welcoming exterior, was in pain. The feeling tormented him, denying him a break from the patronising pressure, leaving him to hold blame to nobody but himself. The hurt was cemented into his eyes, reflecting as he watched all other tragedies with a stone cold expressions, them hardly affecting him, because he had and was experiencing the worst routine of torture that was possible to him. He had watched you die, and nothing could take those horrific memories from him, no matter how much he wanted them gone.

That was the last time that he saw you. When you passed in his arms, a large wound in your abdomen pouring out with blood, drowning his desperate hands as he tried his utmost to put pressure on the life threatening injury. He wanted to save you but he didn’t know how, his training had always claimed that killing the monsters was more important than saving the life of a shadowhunter from an unknown bloodline. There had been nothing to prepare him for that day in the field, he was a fighter, and taught to be so, not a healer; he wasn’t a medic, he was just a warrior. “What do you want?” Blatantly fell from his round lips as he cast an eye towards the newbie, unimpressed by her timing, or her presence at all.

Clearly, she hadn’t received the memo to leave him be, especially today out of all the rest. Alec, having the personalised intel as to why Jace was emitting a solitary rut understood why he wished to be alone, and respected the space, granting him as much time to himself as he wanted. And whilst Alec was your friend also, he could feel the deep longing that was stabbing his parabatai in the chest, and it killed him too. Your death had been so unexpected, and now without you, there was a void within the institute. And the archer felt as though Clary was trying to fill it, and he saw that as nothing more than disrespect, though she was probably ignorant to the history that wandered the halls.

Her face revelled back at his tone, but nevertheless she continued on with her prying. “I was wondering if I could join you on the hunt, I’m getting better, Izzy even said so.” Jace refrained from rolling his eyes, and contained the feeling that was trying to burst out of his chest. It was anger, directed at everyone that was still alive, including himself. There was no fairness in it, to say that he was sad was an understatement, he was eternally devastated, the death of you had broken him, crumbled him into a figure that he no longer recognised.

“No, you can’t Clary.” He dismissed her, walking away, and going to grab his seraph so that he could hunt this sucker down, and bring upon the same kind of pain to its family as its kind had down to him. God, did you look badass as you swung it, and the thought alone had tears resonating in his unmatched eyes, thinking of how it was the last relic that remained of you.

Walking casually into the armoury, Jace had his hands prized in the depths of his pockets, as his expert and quick fleeting eyes focalised on you, and the weapon within your hold. Your body leant in harmony with the blade, the sound of it woosh-img in the air satisfying to all that could hear; that being only you and the Wayland boy.

“Can i not train in peace?” You groaned, lowering the blade whence you realised that you were being watched. The eyes trailed up your side where your shirt had ridden up, raking over the rune that you had drew upon your skin only this morning. A light laugh fell from Jace’s lips as he stalked forward, taking your seraph out of your hand, and going to lob it upon the ground, but the stern look in your eyes stopped him. Instead, against his nature, he placed it down as though it were made of glass, and rose to stand before you once more.

“Not when you look that good.” The blonde retorted with a sly smirk, sliding his hands up the sides of your hips, finding absolute solace in the feel of your skin. He could be against you forever, and he would not complain, so long as it did last for such a time. “Makes me want to do things to you y/n y/l/n. Terrible things. What would the heads think?” He asked, in reference to those that were in charge of the institute.

Stifling down remarked laughter at his sensually intended words, you raised your forefinger to the space above his brows, and poked him with enough pressure, so that he would pay attention to the notion. “That you’re not thinking with your own.” You went to cross your arms, but instead, Jace grabbed them, moving down to cast his hand over your own.

“Oh, I’m not.” The shadowhunter confirmed, placing your hand upon the crotch of his sweats, applying enough force behind his grip so that you could feel him twitching. “I am indeed having thoughts from elsewhere, would you like to see my sweet?” Licking your lips, you nodded, watching as he peeled the layer away, wrapping your hand around his base, and giving him a few jerks, feeling his pulse race through his cock.

“Tell me more about what you’re thinking my love.” You bit your bottom lip, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, only to reverberate a groan from the blonde male. He panted as your pace quickened, and he was almost certain that he was going to spray his jizz all over the floor if you did not uphold your sexual administrations. His head leant back, as pleasured sounds broke through the clenching of his teeth.

And then, it all stopped as a voice, dressed in absolute disgust, written over with unmotivated shock, interrupted your little exchange. “Really guys, this is a gym, not your damned bedroom. The two of you really are disgusting!” It was Alec, and he cringed at the fact that he had seen his best friend’s cock being stroked in your grasp. Yeah, he wasn’t going to be training today, or at least, not in the asserted place for it.

“Clary.” Izzy called her name, wearing a short lived smile. Whence she studied the expression of the redhead, she was quick to pay attention to the disappointment upon her face. There was confusion laddered in her skin, masking it with creased that made her look worried all at the same time. “What happened?” The Lightwood woman asked concerned, bracing a hand upon said girl’s shoulder.

“Jace snapped at me.” The newcomer informed her, frowning at the prospect, and then after all that, he had stormed off, as though she didn’t even matter. She felt well and truly rejected, like a newspaper that had been tossed in the street, and ending up in a horrible puddle. “I thought he might have liked me, but his attitude says otherwise.”

Izzy twitched her nose; she knew what day it was. There was no way to break it to Clary easy that Jace had no amorous emotions towards her, and so instead of being blunt with the new resident at the institute, she decided to tell the woman a story. “There was a girl...” she began, knowing that after all was explained, that Clary would understand.

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greensaplinggrace · 4 years ago

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do you have any darklina fic recs?

I certainly have a few! But first I want to clarify that I don’t really read fic when I’m writing it, and since I have so many fics in the works right now, I haven’t really been reading a lot of fanfiction. So this list probably won’t be as extensive as it could be.

Here are some other great fic recommendation posts, however:

DARKLINA FIC RECS by @vicioux

DARKLINA FIC RECS // part ii by @vicioux

Darklina Ruling the World Together Fic Recs by @clubofthestarlesssaint

Tumblr Ficlets

Aleksander’s First Memory by @kestrafagnor

Fivan Talk About Darklina by @jomiddlemarch

a little light in the great, big dark by @valkyrhys

Alina tells Mal she’s with Aleksander by @lorsanbitch

Darklina week day 5: intimacy & touch by @starlesscne

AO3 Fanfiction

if it ain’t me by larry_hystereks (Incomplete - 10/13 Chapters)

alina’s in her second year at Yale when she meets aleksander at one of his frat parties.

a hookup with the potential for more, only if alina wasn’t still struggling to piece herself together from last year’s breakup.

or: alina, zoya, their trust issues, and the men that fall for them

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I’m only at about chapter 6 of this fic currently, but so far it’s one of my all time favorite Modern AUs. The characterization for Alina and Aleksander is incredibly well done, and the entire fic itself is so feminist and queer in such a refreshing way. Aleksander and Alina are bisexual as fuck, both with their own separate complex lives, and much of Alina’s own traumas and relationships are explored outside of Aleksander.

There’s some Zoyalina, with Nikolina friendship and endgame Zoyalai. There’s some mystery and some tension, but nothing too extreme, and a lot of the fic is merely an exploration in growth and overcoming one’s history and learning how to move on in healthy ways. I love it.

She Wears a Collar (With My Name) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

She is immortal, and whatever lingering hints of humanity she may have once had have long been bleached from her heart.

I will grant you one wish, boy, if it is in my power to do so. What does a Shadow Smith most want?

"You," he answers.

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 2: Role Reversal

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This piece is just exquisite. This author’s writing style is one that I particularly enjoy. Their stuff is always so uniquely composed and crafted, and this one especially is a work of art. The way Darklina as a relationship is portrayed in particular is fascinating to me because it’s a role reversal but it’s still so complex. Aleksander’s character is nailed.

the bright sun was extinguish’d by athousandwinds (Complete)

Somewhere, deep in the dark forests of Ravka, a boy grows up on stories of Sankta Alina of the Wastes, the Sun-Scorched Saint.

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This fic is just straight up magnificent. It’s so engaging and I love love love the way a role reversed Aleksander who joins the army is portrayed. He reminds me so much of Demon in the Woods Aleksander, as if he’s exactly what a grown version of that young boy would be. When I say I adore his characterization in this I’m not lying.

If I wanted any completed fic I’ve read to have a second chapter, it would be this one.

Winter in the Little Palace by redisxwing (Complete)

Written for Yuletide 2020.

Baghra and Alina's wildly different perspectives on the Darkling, and how things could have gone if nobody listened to Baghra.

Warning: Baghra is written as a harsh and arguably abusive parent, and this is darkfic about that relationship, with a side of shipping. Everything is terrible (except the parts that are pretty much okay).

Canon divergence pretty much as soon as Alina gets lessons in summoning.

This fic is likely not compatible with King of Scars (or any subsequent work).

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As is said in the summary, this one makes Baghra a bit more extreme. If you’re a fan of Baghra, this fic probably isn’t for you. But since I’m not a fan of Baghra, I had no problems with it.

My biggest praise for this fic is in regards to the character interactions and the POVs. There’s a brilliant grasp of unique perspective and how to convey it, and that talent is carried over into the way character interactions are brought to life in the text. Also, there’s a scene where Alina gets kind of protective of the Darkling, which is one of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to Darklina.

Good Ideas by FelixRivers (Complete)

Alina Starkov had a very good idea. Aleksander Morozova would definitely agree. (or: Alina wants to go camping and Aleksander won't complain)

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This fic is just straight up adorable and hilarious. They’re such a cute couple and Alina’s POV is great. It’s just pure fluff and humor 💕

I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you by SanktaJenya - @sankta-arya (Complete)

Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and Ana Kuya was worried about her, so she decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. On her way there, Alina meets a stranger...

Darklina Red Riding Hood/Company of Wolves AU

Darklina Week, Day 4, Fairytales

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This fic has a splendid grasp of tension and atmosphere. It’s very enchanting and dark and intriguing, and it nails those aspects with absolute precision. I love the style and the way the fairytale is incorporated into the narrative. It’s truly a masterpiece.

The Wretched by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“We are strangers, but I want to help.” He growls at her, mocking and mistrustful. “I understand,” she said. “You think I am one of them. I certainly look like one of them. But I want to help you. Will you let me?” Prompt: fairytale. Alina saves a dragon.

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Okay so I’ve mentioned this one before as one of my Top 5 fics of all time and I still stand by that. I can’t even describe why I love this fic so much except that the pacing is amazing and the prose is stunning and the story is beautiful. Aleksander is a dragon and Alina is a witch, and their relationship is just so...interesting and fascinating and lovely. I would literally kill for this fic. There’s such a softness to it as well. Such a tenderness. Idk, I just really love it.

Show Me Who You Are (I Want To Know) by Ceris_Malfoy (Incomplete - 12/?)

Alina takes her future in her own hands and makes her own decisions.

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This is a great “what if Alina had stuck around after the reveal” rewrite. It doesn’t have Mal bashing and in fact still writes them as close friends, which is something I’m fond of in Darklina fics. Aleksander is allowed to be soft and Alina is allowed to be powerful, and I really enjoyed the take on their dynamics as a power couple wherein Alina is given a lot of control.

There’s something to be said for the way Aleksander is written in the scenes where he must be honest and earnest with Alina. I really enjoy the way they both come to equal ground, and I’m even more fond of the way Alina is allowed to grow darker without losing her light. She also engages a lot with quite a few other characters, developing tons of friendships and alliances on her own that help strengthen her as an individual character.

on this bridge between starshine and clay by @rhea-imagined (Complete)

"His breath narrows for a moment, his fist clenched tight before he forces himself to loosen it. She is his only opportunity for salvation, but vulnerability is not a cape he wears easily. “In those days, there was less prejudice against Shadow Summoners. But everyone fears the dark, in one way or another.” He does not look at her as he waits for the penny to drop, half-hoping it stays suspended in the air."

In which Alexander comes clean to Alina and tells her about his true identity in hopes that this will help convince her to take down the Fold.

A rewrite of the fountain scene in episode four, with a good!Darkling that is trying to make amends.

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This is my all-time favorite good!Aleksander AU. He’s kept in character despite the major changes made to his motivations, and Alina is given a lot more agency in her own story. It’s the first fic in what might become a series, but it can stand alone beautifully.

I love how Aleksander and Alina’s relationship is allowed to grow tense without breaking, and how it’s a clear sign of change but not abandonment. I love how both characters are able to think for themselves and become self-aware and are given the chance to think critically. I love the character interaction so much because it’s honest and fresh and engaging. Everything from the smallest action to the most off-hand thought is in character and meaningful and incorporated with an amazing style of writing. It’s a very refreshing piece, and the writing only makes it that much better.

Bunnies of a Feather Stitch Together by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Just as Alina called to the light, gathering and twisting it into a ball in her hands, the door swung open.

Kirigan blacked out the door frame. His appearance enough would have surprised Alina, but there was something clutched in his arm, something dark and floppy. It almost looked like the stuffed toys that had been passed around to the younger Orphans." - Alina and The Darkling bond over a love of soft things

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Soft stuffed animal shenanigans. Bits of trans!Aleksander, which I’m very fond of, as well as just a lot of fluff with a bit of something bittersweet and sad in a good way.

Half Lie by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Baghra always talked of the demon that had stolen her daughter." Or, Alina learns the hard way that the Darkling isn't the only one who deals in half-truths

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This one is trans!Aleksander, and it handles it in a very interesting way. It’s quite sad, and deals a lot with Baghra & Aleksander’s relationship through Alina’s POV. I want to give a warning for transphobia, because it does center around that a lot as the premise, but it really is worth the read if that isn’t a trigger for you. This is one of my favorite trans!Aleksander fics, and the way it handles emotion and grief and pain is quite extraordinary.

The CEO and Helioseismologist by mrthology (Complete)

Aleksander Morozova doesn't get sick. He's the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world, one that he had built from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears. He exercised daily (usually), maintained a healthy diet, and kept himself fit.

He wasn’t sick.

Too bad no one believed him. And too bad Genya decided to call Ivan to take him home before also calling Alina to take care of him.

Maybe, just maybe, being sick wasn't so bad. Especially not when he has such a wonderful girlfriend.

---

Both of the fics in this series are great, but I love this one in particular because I’m an absolute sucker for hurt/comfort. Anyone who’s been on my blog for a while knows that it’s my all time favorite trope to read, and this fic fits the hurt/comfort trope to a T in the best of ways. It’s very tender and in character, and Aleksander and Alina are so soft with each other. It’s adorable and really makes you feel for Aleksander, and the caretaking is done perfectly.

All the different layers of dark (thousand little suns) by Anuna (Complete)

One month after the Winter Fete, Aleksander returns to the Little Palace, and Alina has been missing him.

Episode five canon divergence in which Alina had never left Os Alta.

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This one is soft emotional hurt/comfort smut. They’re both so open and vulnerable with each other, and it’s so beautiful to read. I love the writing style and the emotion in this one. It makes my heart ache in the best way.

An Honourable Man by liviy695 (Complete)

A reimagining of the scene after the winter fete. Alina catches a glimpse of a caring Darkling after he returns from integrating the Conductor. Plus, no Baghra interference.

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This one is what it says on the tin, in that Baghra doesn’t interfere and they’re allowed to talk after the Darkling interrogates the Conductor. But more than that, it’s a great imagining of how a scene where Aleksander reveals Marie’s death would have gone. There’s a sort of quiet to it that I appreciate, with grief and solemnity weighed against care and vulnerability.

I see the real you (even if you don’t, I do) by Anonymous (Incomplete - 8/?)

A series of questionable decisions lead Alina to meet the Black General a bit earlier. Butterfly effect ensues.

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I’ve only read half so far (I hadn’t realized it had updated!! 👀👀) but I’m already in love with this fic. Alina’s dialogue and perspective is perfect, her relationship with Mal and the other cartographers is great, and I really enjoy how much personality she has. Aleksander is so smitten, but more than that, his characterization is soft but not weak. It feels almost as if he’s swept up by Alina, instead of the other way around, and I quite like that.

Of parenting by Anuna (Complete)

Alina finds out how her husband handled yet another parenting situation.

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This is pure adorable Darklina parenting fluff and I live for it. Yet it doesn’t lack depth and in fact explored Alina and Aleksander’s relationship with parenting quite well.

i have a longing by LRCee - @ladylyannastark (Complete)

“So, Alina Starkov, risk-taker, how did you end up being editing’s newest wunderkind?”

Alina Starkov is rising in the publishing world. Singlehandedly responsible for editing (see: rewriting) the hottest book of the year, she lands a coveted spot at Morovoz Publishers. It's the position she's always wanted, at the biggest publishing house in the country. Life is perfect. That crush on her boss though, that's gotta go.

---

OKAY! I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH!! Let me tell you, as someone who is not too fond of Boss/Employee dynamics, I was very wary going into this fic. But boy did it deliver in a way that was perfect for me.

The relationship that develops between Aleksander and Alina is complex but healthy, and it never feels as if there’s too much of a power imbalance or anything that would make Alina feel forced or unhappy. The tension lies purely in how she fears others will perceive her, and not in how unhealthy her relationship with Aleksander is. For somebody who’s often attracted to unhealthy ships, I have to say that my favorite fics are usually ones that don’t have that type of dynamic between the characters. This fic delivers on that.

Also, Aleksander’s POV surrounding his struggle with his Russian heritage and his feelings for Alina is amazing, and has some of the best writing and characterization I’ve seen.

You receive: an evil demon; I receive: human souls by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

The next morning while she tried to tell herself it was a dream, that of course there wasn’t a fucking demon in her house, she found a note taped to her fridge.

“You might eat this shit,” it had written, “but I would like some fucking souls please.”

Darkling Week Prompt 7: free choice. Alina has a demon in her house.

This is absolute crack, and I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me.

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May I just say that this is the most fun I’ve ever had when reading a fic. It’s interesting with a bit of mystery, and Aleksander as a little shit of a demon is hilarious. Alina in this fic is great too. It’s such a unique take on her POV, especially when you reread it after knowing the ending. 10000/10, this fic is brilliant in every way and I love it.

I had been lost to you, Sunlight by BrytteMystere (Complete)

A Girl became a Woman, became a Sankta, became a Goddess.

Or: An Immortal Alina calls upon merzost to reunite with the Prince of Shadows she lost long ago. She may have lost herself in the process.

But then again, maybe time and endless wars did that instead.

---

You really just have to read this one to get it. It is utterly haunting and fascinating in the best of ways. The writing style is strange and novel and fits so well with the story being told. The composition of the fic as a whole is genius.

I Look Inside Myself (And See My Heart Is Black) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"When is a monster not a monster? Why, when you love it, of course."

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 6: Favorite Quote • King & Queen • Monster

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Once more, this author comes through with an absolutely breathtaking writing style and story. The imagery is elegant yet brutal, simultaneously horrifying and glorious. There’s a certain way these stories are written, like fairytales, where the beautiful becomes the macabre and becomes ever more stunning because of it. It’s very dark but in a good way - an almost bewitching way.

Afterlife by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“You are asking me to leave?”

“Not asking, shadow,” she said. “Telling. Time to get unlost, loser.”

Day 3 Darklina Week prompt: Modern AU (I mean, barely)

Alina expels ghosts from purgatory.

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@aceofnowhere once again bringing the best of the paranormal to the Grishaverse. Literally everything you write is amazing idk why I’m even pointing out individual fics when I could just rec your whole page. But anyways!! This is fun and interesting and Alina is a badass. Aleksander is, of course, compelling and dark and kind of a little shit, and it’s all incorporated seamlessly into an existential paranormal narrative.

Once Upon a Shooting Star by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"But most of all, she was drawn to a vast darkness that reached out above all of them, a void so hungry for companionship that she knew she could fulfill."

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Let. Alina. Be. Feral!! Anyways, I clearly have a type when it comes to storytelling, and it’s whatever the fuck this person has got going on. Feral!Star!Alina is literally the light of my life. Her interactions with not only other people but the world in general are so well done, but my favorite parts about this fic are the numerous ways her relationship with Aleksander is described and depicted.

I love the dark and light imagery, especially with how it’s portrayed as them filling in the gaps of each other’s lives and supporting each other instead of trying to block each other out. There’s such clear passion and joy and love and devotion between them. The central focus of this fic is on her and Aleksander’s relationship, the interplay between them and their powers and the way her light fills his loneliness, the passing of adoration and trust and reliance between them. It’s very beautiful and I love it.

A Blaze of Light by Keira_63 (Complete)

They discover the Sun Summoner in the burnt-out remains of the Shu laboratory in which she has spent the last seven years of her life.

Or, the Darkling finds himself with a Sun Summoner whose greatest wish is to burn Shu Han to the ground. He is happy to oblige her.

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👀👀 Badass Alina and Badass Aleksander. The ultimate power couple, and Alina burning a path through Shu Han before they both burn a path through the world together. The darkness and rage in this one are handled very well, and the way that rage turns to coldness and then resolve is done so well. This fic is very cathartic and also very furious, and reading it is certainly a trip down emotion lane.

One more for the Road by Rist (Complete)

He returns to the war room shaken, and finds an Alina that cannot leave without at least having tried.

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This one hurts so much but its soooo gooood!!! Very smutty but also very tender and very bittersweet. Sad and soft all at once. I just... love the way Alina and Aleksander are written so much, and Alina’s complicated feelings for him are explored in such detail and depth. This one is truly worth the read.

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nemeseos-noctua · 4 years ago

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hello!¡ idk if you guys have wrote for angst but i’ll req one since the reqs are open,, can i req for xiao, zhongli and venti where their [mortal] s/o slowly dies on their arms. yk since they’re basically immortal and how they’d react to losing another loved one. ty!

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xiao, zhongli, venti (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: venti and zhongli story spoilers, not proofread

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the way i teared UP while writing venti’s (also i love this request. i spent like 40 minutes writing it during a class but AGHH I LOVE THE FREEDOM I HAD WHILE WRITING IT)

a part of him hates himself for loving you

he knew. he knew you were but a mortal, a fleeting love and a fleeting life. and yet, he lowered his guard. he let himself love, he let himself feel joy and bask in your warmth that the lingering thought of ‘temporary’ left his veins

but holding you like this—in his arms, in his cold cold arms that already missed your missing warmth, his bloodied gloves and sunny irises:

he hates you. he hates you for loving him. he hates himself for loving you. he should’ve never subjected himself to this pain—

but he’ll never stop loving the memories of you

“Sorry, Xiao,” You smiled weakly, chest heaving with restrained coughs as the Yaksha winced, cradling you in his arms as the moon began to rise.

“Don’t speak. Conserve your energy,” The Adeptus disregarded your words, his heart pounding against his chest with a pain so unfamiliar, a pain of heartache he wish he never experienced.

Maybe, if he had rejected you that fateful night—he’d feel this pain still. He’d feel it, just, earlier.

Would it be worth it? To sacrifice your memories, your love— for an easier farewell. Maybe, if he had never fallen in love with you, maybe, if you had just stayed in your mortal life and never seeked him out—maybe it would be you who was crying on his behalf.

Gazing down at you, Xiao’s grip on the fabrics of your shirt tightened. You had changed since he first met you—wrinkles adorned your face, [e/c] eyes drooping and your bones were stiffer and more fragile than his ever was.

And yet, he loved you like the first time he met you—though he’d never admit it, appearance never really mattered to him anyways. Though he held a youthful visual, he knew that if his true age was put into a look... it’d be nothing more than skin and bones.

“I love you, Xiao.”

“Don’t.”

Don’t. Don’t make him love you even more, don’t make him miss you before you had even left.

Don’t. Don’t leave him—don’t leave him stranded again, destined to fight against demons and protect Liyue even after its archon’s passing.

Don’t, don’t make him cry uncharacteristic tears. Don’t make him long for a love that was gone.

xiao would put you to rest once the beat of your heart comes to a stop

he is painfully familiar with the traditions of a passing. he is familiar with the way he’d set someone down into the earth. he is familiar with the soil and the rain and the moon and the stars

he—adeptus xiao—was familiar with death. in fact, he dealed in it

this is most likely xiao’s first time watching someone die from old age

or—someone he loves

he is used to the realm of immortals, he is used to watching them be murdered or sabotaged. but never has he seen old age take someone

and he wished to never see it again.

xiao would close his heart from the world—if it wasn’t closed already, it’d be barricaded by twice the amount. thorns used to block the outside world would stab his own heart, and xiao would only know grief for a period of time

he’d find himself coming back to your final resting place, he’d find himself planting glaze lilies and flowers at your grave as he mourns a lost love

he—still hates you. he hates the love you gave him and the love you shared... but now it doesn’t hurt so much anymore

your death would only prompt him to become stronger. to become colder, to hate the world even more than he already does

zhongli would sometimes visit xiao, and even he is pained by your death. the world—it twisted and turned, it moved and wove tales with the strings of fate...

but never before has xiao wished he was mortal. if he were mortal, he could pass peacefully. if he were mortal, he could meet you again

mortals.

xiao hates mortals.

he hates them because being mortal was what took you away from him

the touch of death has numbed to zhongli

he has experienced it far too much, but watching you fade in his arms was probably the worst yet most bittersweet way to go

on one hand, zhongli is relieved. he is relieved that you passed peacefully, he is relieved that you left without any pain

yet on the other hand, he is heartbroken. he is broken to watch yet another loved one go, he is broken to have to arrange the casket that you will sleep eternally in

zhongli is grateful. he is grateful to ever meet you, he is grateful to have the honor of putting a ring on your finger and being able to lock your lips with his. he is grateful for so many things and yet he still wants more

he wishes to hold you until time itself fades, he wishes to experience the present with you instead of dwelling on the past that you so regrettably will become apart of

he, zhongli, consultant of wangsheng’s funeral parlor—wished for time. a time he so selfishly held as an immortal.

“The glaze lilies are beautiful today, are they not?” Zhongli hummed, sipping on some tea as he gazed fondly out of the window. His warm coat did nothing to prevent the cold of his side, the lack of your voice or the missing light from your eyes.

Everyday was the same. Everyday was him sitting—alone—in the funeral parlor, the pungent smell of death and cremations flooding his senses as all he could do was watch. Watch the world go by, watch his friends and loved ones die one by one as he was subjected to an eternal dance of loss.

Though, Zhongli knows that you will never truly die as long as you are in his heart. He remembers your smile, your laughs, your growing pains and complaints, your eventual wisdom and hearty laugh that you shared with him moments before your time.

He remembers so much, he loves so much, he loves you and who you were, he loves you and all of you.

“I must admit, I miss you terribly,” The consultant’s voice softened, his fingers setting the tea in his hands down as a lump formed in his throat.

“Yet I would never regret loving you.”

zhongli would stay painfully normal

he does not want your death to hinder him—he knows you would not want that. so he lives life, he carries on—but your memory never leaves

your stories and triumphs will be the topic for one of his best stories. and that otherworldly traveler... he hopes they carry on your legacy with each and every world they visit

and he hopes you... you and your beautiful smiles, you and your love and your kindness and your ambitions—

he hopes you are resting peacefully in the flowers he prepared for you

venti would strum you your favorite tunes as you pass

a bittersweet smile paints his face as your back rests against his chest, frail and weak coughs leaving your system as you heave for a single breath

do you remember? do you remember the way the two of you used to climb the tree at windrise? do you remember how you’d drag him from the late diluc’s tavern? do you remember how you’d stay up late at night listening to his songs and mindless chatter?

he remembers. he remembers watching you grow, he remembers standing beside you as you ran for your dreams. he remembered gliding with you aboard the strange island of time you insisted on exploring

“I love you, so so so so so much, [Y/N]...” Venti would muster, wiping his tears as you couldn’t even turn around to gaze at him. To gaze at his youthful form and unchanging appearance, to gaze into those azure eyes you had fallen for and his scheming tactics.

Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, Venti took one deep breath. He loved the way you smelled, how it seemed like you rolled in a field of sweet flowers (though he knew your stiff bones would never allow such a thing), how you used to play along with his schemes when you were younger.

Venti loves you, and all of you. He loved you when you were a young adult, he loved you when you were middle-aged, he loved you when you were an elder.

He love love love love loves you, so much so that it seemed to overpower the pain.

He knew your time was up, he knew his time with you was gone, but he persists on with your memory.

mondstadt has surely changed ever since your passing

venti finds himself waddling into angel’s share twice a day, even if he can’t afford it. he finds himself on the receiving end of pitied gazes and free drinks (for no reason, though everyone knows the reason). he finds the way klee is no longer a child and the way the honorary knight never visits mondstadt anymore quite jarring

he finds himself—lost. he has lost so many, watched so many go, held so many fallen friends in his hands that he can no longer count

though, he misses you. a lot, actually. when klee is busy being an adult and bombing abyss mages instead of fish, venti finds himself weaving tunes of your valor and honor at the statue of—himself

he finds himself longing for you, loving you as if you were still by his side. he sings and sings, strumming his lyre so much that he hopes you can hear them from the heavens

and after—after he has made his and your mark on the newer generation, venti, the windborne bard, falls into a slumber

he sleeps. he sleeps in celestia in hopes of dreaming a dream with you. he sleeps in hope of finding you in a neverland so beautiful

he hopes that one day when he descends once more amongst his people—he hopes you will be there. just like the first time he met you.

— constellations!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #constellarations

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greyeyedmonster-18 · 2 years ago

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Ten Fics, Ten Lines Snippets

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a [few] line(s), and share it! then tag 10 people.

(tagged by @femme--de--lettres and currently going through my back log of tag games; this is lucky because i have exactly 10 fics on ao3(( well i guess 9, but like close enough)) , but also terrible because uh, this means i have to go through the fics that shall not be. named.

Well go from New to Old, yes? and i am tagging all my mutals in this <3. tag tag tag you're it.)

Work in Process (taken from a chapter that isn't published yet):

That of the habits Sirius was trying to fall back into, wishing for Remus's body on the left side of the bed and longing to hold him was the first to make itself at home again. Not well-rounded meals, not consistent showers--but clinging to someone for comfort.

2. postcard from paris

Alcohol rushing through his veins, reminding him of the first night they had been in this position, and Remus didn’t care. He didn't care then, and he couldn't be fucked to care now. James leaned forward, teeth nipping at Remus’s earlobe gently, and a shiver went up Remus’s spine.

3. 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration

It was going to be the deal breaker.

So was the shoot for the moon, even if you’ll miss you’ll land among the stars he heard the fourth time they were together, Remus face down in a pillow, arse up, pushing back against James’s hips even as such horrors were being spilled from his boyfriends mouth.

4. No Matter the Wreckage

“They haven’t gone into your room, you know,” Regulus’ voice said to his back as he started down the opposite end of the hall, “They haven’t touched your chair at the dining table. Father is in his study a lot more…” Sirius stopped, taking a moment to remind himself that this was his brother and if he was going to pick a fight, it wasn’t going to be in with him.

5. Fault Lines

It took time, but Sirius had slowly started building a life that looked a little less like distractions and a little more like moving on--from grief, from hurt, from a lifetime of disappointment at the hands of people he thought he could count on.

6. ten reasons (to go to michigan)

Remus felt his face flush and he closed his eyes giving himself permission, just this once to revel in the high. As much as being in his apartment made him remember dark and stormy days of the past, something occurred to him.

It had been over a month, and Benjy hadn’t crossed through Remus’ mind.

Because instead of heartbreak.

Instead of counting up an invisible list of crimes and fighting in courtrooms…

Remus could think of Sirius.

7. Carry Me Away

Half the pizza was gone, and so was half the day. So was the hesitancy Sirius had felt to touch the other boy. Even the days prior, Sirius was always wary (without the help of alcohol) to initiate contact. Unsure if it would be okay, unsure if he was doing it right. But when he saw Remus inhale deeply, or whisper Sirius into his mouth, Sirius knew he was onto something.

8. *grumbles, whispering* From Fire to Fire

“I don’t...I don’t think people like us get more than one shot. At love, you know?” Marlene started, “People like James and Lily? I know they’re destined to be or whatever, but they...they could have multiple loves in their lives if they wanted to. But...I don’t think we’re that lucky.”

9. Chef's Kiss

James didn’t believe in soulmates, or at least he didn’t think he did. He was raised to believe everyone's soul had met others before life on Earth and that these connections to specific souls were meant to lead you to a higher purpose and a deeper relationship. When he met Sirius, he was convinced this was one of them (his Mum even supported this idea, convinced of the same thing). But there were tiers and layers and despite believing deeply that people were meant to find each other, James had lost the faith behind the idea of a one true love kind of soulmate. But the way Lilys hand lit his entire body on fire, made him rethink everything he thought he knew.

10. (scrapping from tumblr here) mercy-- a petunia x sirius fic

The events of the day came back to him in waves, Sirius not believing it was actually his body sitting at the table with Petunia Dursley discussing her dead husband and son as if he wasn’t lying between his teeth. It wasn’t often Sirius said thank you to his parents—actually, it was hardly ever, Sirius mostly cursing them and wishing their rules and influence away—but he was grateful for all the time he spent lying as a child.

#ten lines ten fics #my writing #look at it #feast your eyes #on my crusty receipts #and used tissues

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justalads · 4 years ago

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c!niki and c!wilbur enjoyers. pspspspspspsps

alright guys so last night i rewatched pretty much all of the pogtopia arc. and this isn’t meant to be a big, important analysis post (it’s kind of incomprehensible), because my brain is fried from, you know. rewatching pretty much all of pogtopia. but i do have some stuff i’d like to say.

(this also just became a niki meta sorry i love her. i really just got emo about her during the second half of this and it got long. i have a lot of feelings about her and wilbur’s friendship.)

it’s a pretty general conclusion that wilbur’s real “downfall” began on october 8th, during the stream “who are you go away”. of course, his spiral and the process of him losing faith had begun much earlier, more around the end of the first war or during the election. but the big switch, so to say, was definitely here, when as wilbur walks back from schlatt’s announcement, he asks tommy if they’re the bad guys.

this entire scene was so interesting to me. wilbur here is a man who has lost hope, someone who is backed into a corner morally and has nothing left. he points out that they can never really reclaim l’manburg without forever tainting it, and that schlatt knows this. the entire half an hour or so before, schlatt has been taunting wilbur about losing that power. the emphasis of the festival on “democracy” is so clearly a barb thrown at wilbur, and it works.

wilbur’s “nothing left to lose” in this vod is a mirror to niki’s “you know what they say about a woman who has nothing left to lose”. this will not be the first time they mirror each other.

basically, wilbur’s angry. when schlatt announced the festival, wilbur realized that maybe it wasn’t a terrible thing. so once he worked around into the mindset of “we’re the bad guys”, he was able to justify saying he was going to blow up the nation with no remorse. he wants chaos! he wants no survivors!

does he do it? god no.

during the streams leading up to november 16th, wilbur is consistently scared. he goes back and forth on it, and makes multiple “conditions” that determine whether he’s going to do it or not, almost begging someone to stop him. he whispers to himself that he’s scared, that his hands are shaking, that he’s not sure if it’s the right thing to do. because despite what he says about “not caring about any of them”, the instant niki is threatened after tubbo’s death, wilbur walks up to schlatt and tells him that if he’s going to kill anyone it should be him. later, when quackity and tommy talk him down from pressing the button, he can’t press it because they’re there and he can’t bring himself to kill them as well.

but he has no problems with putting his own life at risk. he refuses to wear armor half the time, and actively places himself in harm’s way to save others. he still cares about everyone else, as much as he says he doesn’t. even when he does cause harm to others, during november 16th, he immediately begs phil to kill him. “look, they all want you to.” he can’t live with what he’s done, and how he’s hurt people, but he couldn’t allow manburg to continue.

the man is terrified and angry and he can’t win. and even as he tries to stuff himself into the mind of someone who doesn’t care, he cannot. when he finally does, he cannot live with being that person.

but the reason i rewatched this arc was to see niki’s point of view, especially after her statements during her last stream. i genuinely think that wilbur’s only betrayal of her was pressing the button, because he betrayed everyone. they might have known he was going to do it, but they had faith he wouldn’t.

wilbur cared a lot about niki. her life under schlatt was awful, wilbur hated that she was suffering, and the scene where wilbur plants himself directly in the center of the festival and tells schlatt to kill him instead hits pretty hard. he has the argument with schlatt, and then turns to niki and tells her to run. he then hits people and sprints away, trying to give her time to escape.

this is also when he asks her to join pogtopia, because now that schlatt has said he’d kill her, it’s a safer place for her.

so the man did care about her. niki is angry at the memory of him that she has. it’s been twisted by time and her own grief and paranoia.

in rewatching pogtopia, i realized that a lot of people hate the memory of wilbur. not him, and what he did. they think he didn’t care. and to quote hamilton (apologies):

“history obliteratesit paints me in all my mistakes”

does niki have a right to be mad at him? absolutely. he caused direct harm to her by blowing up l’manburg, once it was reclaimed. but she’s wrong that he never cared.

(an interesting note: wilbur only blows it up after techno starts fighting people outside. he hears it, and says “look, they’re fighting”. he didn’t re-initiate the conflict of the country. the fact that even after peace was won people were fighting just gave evidence to his belief that the entire country was corrupted.)

niki has been hurt a lot, and wilbur has things to answer for. but we as the audience know that her statements are just her perception. she is a character who acts on perceptions. the entire stream was in black and white. during doomsday, upon seeing wilbur log on (as ghostbur), niki has a panic attack and destroys her bakery, trying to rid herself of the pain of the memories. her lines during this stream are chilling, whispered repetitions that are a mirror of wilbur’s end.

(paraphrased, it was long and confusing but there are a few bits and this was the essence of it)

“wilbur is gone. this isn’t happening. he is dead. l’manburg is gone.”“it is real, i am real, he is real and he is dead.”“l’manburg is gone, i am real, i am l’manburg”.

(god. dude i could spend Months analyzing this one stream alone. there’s so much here.)

doesn’t that sound a bit like “my unfinished symphony”? wilbur and niki both attach their own self to the nation they fought for, and can see it as an extension of themself. they both destroy parts of it in acts of fear, attempting to save everyone else from what they’ve made.

what i pulled away from niki’s stream is that she’s not healing. i remember the chamber she locks herself in at night. i remember her refusal to eat. i remember how she was so angry at tommy, and she later realized that anger was misguided. niki genuinely believes that wilbur did not care about her, and that’s not surprising: when he died, she denied the fact that he was gone. she represses the things that she can’t handle, same as lots of other people. it is easier for her to pin her hurt on wilbur, because she needs somewhere to pin it. people feel more in control if they’re angry, not sad.

the song cc!niki said was for her character really emphasizes this. it’s a coping mechanism.

but even condemning wilbur won’t help, because she will still never get closure. niki cares about what others think of her, and so she can’t move on from someone hurting her. she can’t move on because she thinks he hated her. she is angry that he is back, but it is an opportunity for her to heal. she couldn’t heal when he was gone. she’s not the only one with a negative perception of wilbur, after all. he has one too. the two of them really need to talk.

i want niki to be healthy and safe. i want to see her heal so badly, and i do think it will happen. after wilbur died, his betrayal of her stayed with her, and it eventually became her memory of the betrayal that she hated, not the thing itself. it’s been months since it happened. niki wants to find an outlet for her hurt, because she wants to feel better. there’s a pattern i noticed: she only gets mad at people once she hasn’t seen the person themself for a while. and once she sees them and talks to them, and realizes that they care about her and don’t want to hurt her, she stops blaming them for it. she only hates her perception of them. example one? tommy.

man was in exile for a long time, and when he came back he “brought” fighting. that’s how niki saw it. but the fact that after she spent time with tommy (trying to kill him but. details, details) she forgave him because she saw it wasn’t his fault is a really good sign.

i genuinely think that speaking to wilbur will help niki, and it will also help wilbur. after all, they both hate wilbur. the entire perception of wilbur as some heartless, crazy manipulator needs to be shattered for both of their sakes. they both buy into it.

i want niki to know that others care about her, and that she has places she can feel safe. she hates that wilbur is invading the syndicate, because she’s scared of his memory hurting her. i don’t think wilbur will hurt her on purpose, because even though he sees himself as awful, he doesn’t hate her. he never did. usually, with people who have hurt someone else, i want them as far away from the person they hurt as possible. if wilbur does hurt niki i’ll probably cry. but again, it’s not him that hated her, or really him that hurt her in the way she thinks he did. when wilbur was dead, niki didn’t get any better. her memory of him festered and made her feel worse. that’s also why niki killing wilbur or hurting him somehow wouldn’t help her heal. i want wilbur to explain that he didn’t hate her. is wilbur even close to self aware enough to help niki? nah. this is going to take a Long time, and it’s going to hurt.

last thing i swear lol

during niki’s stream, she says that wilbur manipulated her. again, i watched pogtopia last night, and i’ve watched the rest of season one recently as well. i genuinely don’t see it. but i do think i know why she said it.

during season one, wilbur doesn’t manipulate niki. he doesn’t have a chance to later, he’s dead. so then, what is she talking about? of course it’s a perception, same as a lot of her other claims. i think she’s talking about how she cared for l’manburg.

niki joined the server as wilbur’s friend, to join his nation. she grew to care for l’manburg. she devoted herself to it, same as he did. but doomsday showed us that she hates that. in niki’s eyes, l’manburg only brought pain for people, and because she ties herself to it, she hates that she ever cared about it. she can’t allow herself to care for it, because it was used to hurt. so how does she cope with knowing that she once did? she pretends she didn’t.

if she can convince herself that it was wilbur who convinced her to care about l’manburg, she can avoid blaming herself for her own pain. and yeah, she shouldn’t blame herself for it. it’s not her fault. the entire situation is tragic and a little hopeless and once again really makes me hope that she recovers. l’manburg was ruined for her by others. schlatt, techno, dream, wilbur. again another place where she and wilbur are similar: they convince themselves they never cared about l’manburg because of the hurt it caused.

to summarize: wilbur’s going to get a shock soon. don’t know when, but probably the prison visit. something is going to shake his perception, the story is hurtling towards that. once he is able to take responsibility for what he did, and feel safe (because a lot of what he does now is out of fear of being alone or useless), then he and niki need to talk. niki needs something to get her out of her own head. she’s spiraling too. they are essential to each other’s recovery because of how much they meant (and mean) to each other.

anyways i miss early season one niki i liked it when she was happy :(

~ Lad 2

#wilbur #c!wilbur #niki #c!niki #dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #rp #long post #dreamsmp analysis #dsmp analysis #revivedbur #pogtopia #lad speaks

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pigeonp0st · 4 years ago

Note

Hey can you do a fic where reader is under mind control of some sort from an enemy and is forced to attack Nat and the rest of the avengers and Nat has to talk her out of it and calm her down something rlly intense and angsty pls

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #6

Words: 2,177

Warnings: Agnst

(tell me if there’s more I should add)

Notes:

I realized after I finished writing that I didn’t have Nat talk R out of it like you asked...I solved it in another way...i’m sorry!! I hope you enjoy anyways, thanks a lot for requesting (and sorry for spelling mistakes...there’s probably a lot) also sorry for this in general...I’m disappointed in it and the ending...I was sleep deprived and delirious for half of it...

———

It was supposed to be a simple mission, and a simple day. You and Nat had planned to head to the beach for the first time in a long time afterwards and everything. It was supposed to be a good day.

Good day...ha.

The sad truth is, is that things don’t always work out the way you expect them to. Sometimes things go horribly wrong.

Sometimes you get mind controlled by the ‘big bad’ and hurt the people you love most. Or maybe that stuff only happened to people like you. ‘Heroes.’

——-

You were conscious. That was the cruel agonizing part of it all. It’s that with every swing of your knife, every landed hit, every plea that fell from their lips, you knew what was happening.

You knew what was happening but could do nothing about it. Well...you could, technically, but it hurt. It hurt to fight. The pain was similar, you imagine, to what it feels like getting burned alive and then ran over eighteen times.

You didn’t think you could do it. Your will power wasn’t that strong. You would probably die trying to gain control—

It hurt. It hurt. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t, you—

Natasha. Natasha was saying; “fight it, Y/N, fight it,” and to you and to the pain that fighting the mind control caused, she may as well have been saying, “die, Y/N, die”

And yeah. Okay. For her, you will. For her you must.

Tears were running down your cheeks, it was the one thing the mind control didn’t have control of. It was...weird. Weird feeling such an immense amount of pain, such an immense amount of suffering, and being unable to show it. Unable to scream. You were silent, but your body felt loud, your head felt loud.

For a long minute you couldn’t hear them, you couldn’t even register the things you were seeing, all you knew was pain, everything outside of that was illegitimate.

Then, silence. For a brief, blissful moment before it was gone again. Nat’s arms were around you, and you were shaking, but completely still otherwise—finally, finally, you weren’t hurting them— “You’re okay,” Nat whispered, and how could that concept, in a few moments of agony, become something so foreign. Have you ever been okay before? Have you ever lived without this much hurt?

———-

“Nat,” you croaked, the words shaking almost as roughly as your body. “Natasha, kill me.”

Those three words, said with an immeasurable amount of desperation, were just as much not your own as your body was at this moment. They were said in a moment of pain.

Somehow, Natasha knew that. She knew that. She knows what you look like when you’re experiencing physical pain. It’s been seared into her mind countless times, but that doesn’t prevent her heart from aching as much as it does when you start begging.

“Natasha please, please baby, please. Somebody, please! Before it—”

And then you were screaming, and Natasha hates how it’s even worse than the begging.

Somehow you’ve managed to gain control of your vocals, but your body isn’t yours again, she realizes it when you start struggling against her arms…it’s a terrible thing to realize.

“Stop,” Nat yells, so obviously terrified and raw that half of the Avengers freeze where they’re circling you. “Stop fighting it, it’s okay, it’s okay.” She holds you as tightly as she can, with her eyes screwed shut. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And god, she hates the way it sounds like a goodbye too, but she just knows that even if you could register her voice right now, you aren’t going to listen.

You’re going to keep fighting to protect her and the others, because it’s what you’ve always done.

So Natasha takes a deep breath, in and out, and tries to think about her options. She tries to think about her options with you struggling and trying to reach for your knife, and the Avengers circled around her with nothing but ashen expressions that speak of nightmares to come, and she doesn’t know. She just doesn’t know.

There’s no safe way for her to knock you out for a long period of time, not ones that won’t cause long term problems afterwards, but she doesn’t need any because suddenly your body stops struggling, and stops moving, and you’re slumped unconscious in her arms.

It’s a great relief for everyone until Natasha lifts her hand from your pulse, and says, shockingly and terrifyingly devoid of emotion; “I think she’s going into shock.”

——

Everything is a blur to Natasha after that. She recalls yelling, lights, arriving at the hospital, a countdown of; one, two, three, and then she’s sitting in a seat next to your hospital bed wondering when everything went so wrong.

——

All Natasha hears when she closes her eyes is you screaming in agony at the top of her lungs, and all she feels is the phantom touch of your cold ashen skin against her hands.

You’re okay now, Natasha reminds herself. You’re going to be okay, but there’s something deeply traumatizing and everlasting about the moments where you’re sure everything won’t be—the moments you’re almost sure the love of your life won’t be.

Hearing someone you love beg you to kill them, seeing the person you love most in so much agony, it’s...scarring...but Natasha will be strong. She has to be, because being weak hurts too much, but more importantly; you need her to be.

As traumatizing as the experience was for her, she knows that yours was just as bad—if not worse. You were strong for her, so she’ll be for you.

Like protecting her to you seemed like your only option, even while you were hurting so much because of it, it’s Natasha’s only option too.

So she’ll keep it all together, until you’re back to normal and she doesn’t have to anymore.

——-

Natasha startles when you wake up. She physically startles, because the first thing you do is start sobbing, sobbing hard enough to make Natasha concerned that you’ll start hyperventilating.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, up from her seat in a flash to be by your side, “is he still mind controlling you? Are you still hurting?”

You aren’t looking at her, Natasha realizes with a large amount of grief. You won’t look at her, but you’re shaking your head no to her questions, and she supposes that perhaps you are okay—physically.

She wants more than that for you, so she sighs, heavily and sadly— because she can’t protect you from this anymore than she was able to protect you from the mind control—and wraps her arms around your distraught form.

“It’s okay,” Nat mumbles, and then winces and corrects herself because it’s so clearly not. “It will be okay.”

That she is sure of, but you aren’t.

“Natasha,” you force out (Natasha tries not to remember the way you said her name yesterday), “You’re covered in- you’re covered in bruises and cuts...baby, i’m so sorry.”

Your voice cracks on sorry, and Natasha closes her eyes to prevent her own tears from falling. “It wasn’t you,” she whispers fiercely, “i’m not mad at you. Of course i’m not.”

“You should be.”

You pull away from her then. Natasha feels the loss in her heart, she’s sure.

All she wants to do is hold you in her arms and never let go, but with the amount of unjustified shame you’re feeling she doubts you’ll let her.

“Your arm,” you stutter, “did it need stitches?”

Natasha won’t lie to you, so she says nothing—instead she tries to meet your haunted eyes. It’s a useless attempt.

She knows what you’re remembering, and she hates it. “The cut on my neck...it wasn’t that deep. It shouldn’t even scar.”

“I didn’t ask you about the cut on your neck, Natasha.”

Natasha tenses where she’s standing, caught off guard by the loathing in your voice until she realizes that it’s not directed at her, but at yourself.

Your eyes finally, finally, meet Natasha’s. They’re tear brimmed, scared, and unbelievably angry. “I’m going to kill him,” you rasp brokenly, “Natasha, i’m going to kill him.”

——-

Nat says nothing. She just continues to stare back at you.

“He had no right, Natasha, he had no right to do that to me,” your face is crumbling now, anger turning back into devastation in an instant. “Nat, why—why was it me? I—god, i’m so angry, i’m so—i’m so sorry. I’m sorry, i’m sorry. God...what did I do?”

Natasha still says nothing, why isn’t she saying anything? You want to yell at her, you want her to yell at you, you want—you want.

“Is Clint...is he okay?” You ask wobbly.

You remember vividly the moment you stabbed him, and the betrayal on his face, the betrayal on everyone’s faces until they realized you weren’t in control of your own body.

“He’s okay,” Natasha says simply. Then, “the man who did what he did to you...Wanda is handling it. She’s able to block out his mind control.”

“Okay.”

“Can I hold you?”

“What?”

Natasha shifts where she stands, looking down. She’s never looked more uncertain. “You didn’t seem to want me close before...I wasn’t sure…”

Oh.

“Nat,” you whisper, heartbroken, “I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust I’m me.”

Natasha tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans down to kiss your temple. You want nothing more than for her to get away from you. You don’t want to hurt her ever again. You can’t. “Oh baby,” she laughs a sad sort of laugh, “you’ve been handcuffed.”

And that, for whatever reason, starts another wave of unreleased tears, but you're laughing now too...if only at the insanity of your situation.

You feel restricted by the handcuffs, trapped in the way you were during the mind control, but you also feel safe. Safe from doing harm, so you allow her, between breaths, to join you on the hospital bed.

She lets out a relieved breath when you do, both because she’s allowed to hold you, and because you’re laughing...yeah it might me a manic sort of laugh, but it’s something.

Something is better than nothing. It’s a start.

——

“Natasha, I can tie my own fucking shoes.”

Nat looks up at you from where she’s crouched by your feet, raising a questioning eyebrow. “Then why’d you ask me to do it?”

“W-What? No I didn’t.” Mind controlled. You were mind controlled again. Fuck—

“Yeah you did,” Natasha reminds gently, “while you were eating your disgusting jello.”

Oh. Yeah.

You release a shaky breath, laughing quietly all the while, because wow. Wow. You’re losing your mind. “I totally remembered that...they just slipped something into my jello…”

Natasha watches you carefully for a few moments before rolling her eyes and getting to her feet. “Tie your own shoes.”

“Asshole,” you mutter bitterly under your breath. Natasha pretends not to hear you and simply presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” she confesses quietly. Natasha’s been saying as much over and over again since you first awoke.

“Now I feel like the asshole. Just go get the discharge papers.”

Finally, Natasha laughs.

——-

You’re healing still, emotionally, the Avengers and Natasha are very aware of that. They’ve been as gentle as they can possibly be with you since you left the hospital a couple of weeks ago, but now—now it’s time for an intervention.

So naturally, you press the big red emergency meeting button Steve hides in his room and force everyone to meet in the living room.

“I’m not sad anymore,” You announce to them all when Wanda asks why the fuck she was woken up for.

The grumbling immediately quiets.

“Well,” you pause, considering, “I...am. Deep down. I’m tryna work through it but it’s kinda hard now that I'm forgetting a lot of what happened.”

Natasha sits up at that, alarmed. “You’re forgetting?”

You wave your hand dismissively. “My mind is blocking it out. I’m traumatized...but pretty okay otherwise.” The others don’t look convinced, so with an annoyed groan you relent. “I’m thinking about seeing Steve’s therapist. You guys should too.”

A chorus of protest instantly comes forward, not to your surprise...but Wanda...Wanda does surprise you.

“I am, too.”

Then Natasha, “I...was actually considering it myself.”

Well then.

“I’m also considering making my own sitcom,” Wanda continues, resting her head in her hand. “What do you guys think?”

“Stick to therapy, Wanda. Stick to therapy.”

At that, everyone comes forward in agreement.

You’re sure, in that moment, that with these people you’ll be okay.

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dccomicsimagines · 4 years ago

Text

What’s Lost is Found - Batfamily Imagine - Bonus Part Nine.Five

Warning - Depressive Thoughts, Angst Content

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Six.Five Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Requested by Anon - Hey! Uh... Can i request a one-shot from dick's P.O.V. from what's lost is found when he realise (y/n) is not in the mansion/found (y/n)'s note about handing themself to the fake bane? I'd really love to see slight angst of panicked dick worrying about his kid.(sorry not sorry dick)🤣

Author’s Note - Sorry this took so long, but I was working on other things before diving back into the What’s Lost is Found universe. ;)

***

The warmth from the sunlamp soaked into Dick as he sat in the ICU area of the cave. Kori hadn’t woken up yet. She laid on the bed directly under the lamp, taking the full blast from it. Her baby bump clearly visible under the sheet. He stared at the heart monitors, both heartbeats were strong. Why wouldn’t she wake up?

Dick buried his face in his hands. His body ached. The pills Alfred slipped him must have wore off.

He frowned when he heard the arguments coming from the meeting room in the cave. They were planning their next move to deal with siege on Gotham. Dick knew he should be in there with them, but there wasn’t any point. He was going to take his family home where it was safe.

Dropping his hands, he looked back at Kori. His stomach twisted in knots.

He tensed at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. However, he relaxed when he felt your presence by his side. “Hey kiddo,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you. You leaned into him. Dick’s heart glowed. At least you were safe. His hand rubbed your side gently.

“Is she okay?” You trembled in his grasp. Your words stabbed at Dick’s heart. Tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. You were so young. Too young for all of this.

“Her vitals and the baby’s are good, but she hasn’t woken up.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing when his shoulder flared in pain. Damn, maybe he should have taken another dose of pain meds. You shifted in his grasp. He glanced up to see your lips pursed, eyes downcast. “This isn’t your fault, honey. I don’t want to hear that from you.” Your eyes watered. Dick kissed your cheek, the father instinct in him taking over. “I didn’t want you to be part of this.”

You tensed. Dick saw the anger flash in your eyes, but you didn’t snap at him. His arms ached to hold you, to comfort you and himself at the same time. He hesitated a moment before pulling you to sit in his lap. You relaxed into his hold much to his relief. “Shouldn’t you be with the others?” you asked.

“No.” Dick squeezed his arms around you. Gathering his courage, he spoke his next words carefully. “We’re not going to be here for much longer.”

“What?!” you gasped. Dick sighed. He knew you would react this way. Your jaw dropped, staring at him with those big eyes in disbelief. You looked so much like Bruce in that moment. Dick remembered getting a similar look from Bruce when he swung off the chandelier for the first time.

“We’re leaving, going home.” Dick frowned when you pulled away from him. His arms reached out to try to keep you close. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.” Dick’s heart broke into a million pieces. He had to keep you, Kori, and the baby safe. Why couldn’t you just understand for once? Why did you always have to fight?

“We can’t leave.” Your voice cracked. Dick saw your hands trembling. He wanted to reach out to hold them still, but you would just run away from him. “I caused this. I can’t leave them to deal with this. Tim already hates me, Damian too. I can’t do this to them.”

Something inside Dick snapped. He felt a cold, raw anger build inside his chest. “I’m not arguing with you on this. We’re going home.” Your eyes widened in shock. Color drained out of your face. Dick caught himself. The anger evaporated. He softened his tone. “I have more to lose now.” Without a thought, he reached out to pat your arm. You flinched away from him. Dick jerked like you tore his heart out. “(Y/N).” You left the room so fast, you were gone in a blink of an eye.

A plug released from inside of him and Dick sobbed in a way he hadn’t since his parents died. Completely broken. Deep down, he knew he shouldn’t be selfish and whisk his family away when Gotham needed all hands on deck. The others were his family too. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to them.

Time passed and Dick slowly collected himself. Kori hadn’t stirred. He went over to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. I’m going to talk to (Y/N).” He waited a moment for any sign from Kori. However, she didn’t move. “Please wake up soon.” He kissed her again before pulling himself away.

The raised voices from the meeting room echoed through the cave. Lois was talking to Alfred in the corner as Alfred was setting up sandwiches and drinks for everyone. “Do you know where (Y/N) went?” Jon asked Dick shyly, appearing beside him. Dick frowned. His eyes narrowed. Jon flinched.

“No.” Dick crossed his arms. “What you did was so irresponsible. I trusted you to keep (Y/N) out of this and safe.”

“I know.” Jon bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I already got the full lecture from Mom, Dad, Alfred, Jason, and Damian.” He looked Dick in the eye rather bravely. Dick found himself respecting Jon just a little bit more. “I’m sorry.”

Dick cleared his throat. “I suppose I can overlook it. I’d imagine (Y/N) would have came anyway, no matter if you brought them or not.” He glanced around the cave. “You haven’t seen (Y/N)?”

“No, not since Alfred changed their bandages.” Jon tensed, following Dick’s gaze.

“I’ll check upstairs while you look around here.” Dick jogged to the steps and headed up. He heard Jon zooming off to search the lesser used areas of the cave. Dick’s heart was in his throat. Please don’t let anything happen to (Y/N). Please don’t let (Y/N) do something foolish and dangerous.

He couldn’t shake the sense of dread settling in the bottom of his stomach. Bursting through the clock entrance into Bruce’s study, his blood ran cold when he saw notes for everyone on the desk. They were all in your handwriting.

“No, no, no, no.” Dick grabbed the note with his name on it and opened his. His eyes came across ‘I’m sorry’ before he crumbled it in his hand. “Damn it, (Y/N).” He was about to rush back down to the cave when a terrible sound echoed from it. Dick paused. “Damian?” It couldn’t have been Damian. Damian never sounded like that before.

Dick rushed down the stairs, almost tripping to find Damian on his knees in front of the batcomputer. The others were gathered around, watching in horror. Footage from outside Wayne Tower was playing live. You were in the Bane lookalike’s arms, limp. Dick’s mouth went dry as he watched the Bane lookalike toss you into a waiting vehicle.

“We have to stop him.” Damian was on his feet, racing toward the batmobile like a dehydrated man seeing water for the first time.

“Stop. You won’t get there in time.” Tim grabbed at Damian’s arm to stop him. Damian snarled, slamming his fist into Tim’s jaw to knock him back.

“That’s my sibling.” Damian started toward the batmobile again. Jason tackled him to the ground. The terrible sound came from Damian again as he fought with Jason desperately to get to the batmobile. “We can’t let them die. We can’t leave them.”

Jason grunted as Damian’s elbow smashed into his stomach. “Stop it. You’re not thinking straight.”

Dick looked back at the screen. All the light in his life was sucked away in an instant. You were dead. There’s no way they would keep you alive. Dick closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands.

A hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up to meet Barbara’s eye. “We don’t know if they’re gone. Let’s not grieve until we do,” she whispered. Dick looked at the others. Jon Kent was hugging Lois tight, sobbing into her shoulder. Lois had tears in her eyes too. Jason and Damian were still wrestling on the ground with Damian slowly dragging them over to the batmobile. Alfred stared blankly at the screen in shock. Tim was on his knees, embracing Steph from where she collapsed. Cass and Duke appeared numb and held hands with each other. They slowly moved to Alfred’s side to comfort him.

“Right.” Dick swallowed his grief. He allowed himself to have that little spark of hope in his chest. You were strong and the fact they didn’t kill you outright meant that they maybe had other plans. Besides, he was the oldest. He had to be the example.

Barbara nodded over to Jason and Damian. “You better take care of that first. I’m going to try to track that vehicle.” Barbara went to the computer and started working.

Dick took a deep breath. “Cass, Duke, get ready to go out there as soon as Babs has information for you.” They nodded, running off to get dressed.

“Fuck! Get off me, you idiotic street rat.” Damian suddenly broke away from Jason and scrambled to his feet. “I will not be the last Wayne!” He panted, glancing at the computer before swiftly kicking Jason in the side. “You wasted my time! (Y/N) could be dead by now!”

“Damian!” Dick rushed over, stepping between Jason and Damian. Jason groaned, holding his side. “Calm down! This is not going to help (Y/N).” Damian’s glare darkened. Dick rested his hands on Damian’s shoulders, tensing in case Damian exploded again. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Dami, I know you’re scared for (Y/N). I’m terrified for them too, but lashing out isn’t going to help us get them back.”

Damian took a shaky breath. He closed his eyes. “I can’t be the last Wayne.” Dick’s stomach dropped to his feet. His fear threatened to take over, but he held it off. He had to be strong for Damian, for the others.

“You aren’t.” Dick pulled Damian into his arms. Damian went limp, his knees giving out. Dick fell with him, ignoring the wetness on his shirt as Damian hid his face into Dick’s shoulder. “(Y/N) is still alive. We know that. We’ll find them and bring them back home.” Dick rested his chin on Damian’s head. His own tears fell down his cheeks. “I swear we’ll find them.” He rocked Damian back and forth.

#dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing imagine #batfamily #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #dc comics imagines #dc reader insert #batman #batman imagine

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sakura-83 · 4 years ago

Text

Things from Anne with an e that I feel like writing down

Season 1 Episode 6: Remorse Is the Poison of Life

1. Diana having to run through the dark with nothing but a lantern and quite reasonably tripping. I never really thought about how dark it would actually be out because there’s always light.., somewhere in a modern city. It’s dark but you can usually still see

2. Every time Anne and Diana are separated they end up reunited during some great tragedy and are like “I missed you so much!!” Like yeah that’s great but. Please focus

3. It’s terrifying how easily children could die before modern medicine. They still can die very easily and that’s still terrifying but back then there was no quick fixes or easily accessible help

4. “It’s an old wives tale.” “I might be one but not the other. Evidently one doesn’t have to be either thing to know it.”

5. Anne knowing how to treat croup because all of Mrs. Hammond’s sets of twins had it

6. “I was supposed to be a boy but when I wasn’t, they decided to keep and raise me.” “How extraordinary!”

7. Minnie May almost choking to death on her own phlegm and Anne ultimately saving her because there’s no way the doctor would’ve made it all the way from Soencervale in time

8. “I believe I need a brandy.”

9. It’s really interesting how much of the script comes straight from the book

10. “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are white frosts, aren’t you?”

11. John Blythe’s love for adventure and how Gilbert undoubtedly sees it in Anne

12. Eliza apologizing for how she misjudged Anne

13. “My darling Diana”

14. “I can’t tie myself down to anything so unromantic as dishes at this thrilling moment!”

15. “Even aunt Josephine said she’d like to see you again, and she doesn’t like anyone.”

16. “Shes disinclined to stay home alone since her companion passed away.” “Her companion?” “Her best friend forever and ever.”

17. “Aunt Josephine never married. Neither of them did, they lived with each other their whole lives.” “I’d live with you forever if I could. But I know you’ll leave me the date you get married to some wealthy and handsome gentleman. I hate him already.” “How’s Gilbert?”

18. “It’s very likely Gilbert’s father isn’t going to get well, so it’s more than possible that when Gilbert finally comes back to school… he’ll be an orphan.”

19. The cut from that conversation to John Blythe’s funeral

20. Matthew grabbing Marilla’s arm because he knows how much john meant to her

21. Gilbert watching the snowflakes melt in his hand

22. Marilla’s flashback

23. Young Marilla teasing john

24. Him giving her the same hair ribbon she later gifts to Anne

25. Anne and Gilbert being just like their parents, mirroring their romance and yet achieving the love Marilla and John could never have

26. Anne trying to make Gilbert feel better but making it seem like it’s about her. I often find it hard to articulate my relation to others in a way that does sound like I’m relating and not like I’m making it about me

27. Aunt Josephine on a stroll in the woods

28. Anne’s ranting about her “extensive knowledge of being an orphan”

29. Her calling Gilbert a dumb boy and refusing to think about him

30. “Romance is a pesky business. No sense to be made of it.”

31. “May I enter your humble abode.” About Anne’s run down little shed

32. “I couldn’t be less interested in Gil- that boy!”

33. “Let your ambitions and your aspirations be your guide.” “But I have so many!”

34. “I’ve always wanted to be a bride, but I don’t really expect to be a wife.” “Interesting!” “So you see the conundrum.” “I do. I have the following thoughts to offer. First, you can get married any time in your life, if you choose to do so.” “That’s true-“ “And two, if you choose a career, you can buy a white dress yourself, have it made to order and wear it whenever you want.” “Why didn’t I think of that!? I love that idea! I’m going to be my own woman!” “I’m a proponent for making ones own way in the world.”

35. “If you become a doctor, perhaps you can discover a cure for old age.”

36. Anne calling aunt Josephine her new role model, as well as Marilla and Matthew

37. “I’m going to be the heroine of my own story.”

38. Marilla finding an old letter from John

39. The theme Unrequited Love playing during this scene

40. It’s fascinating when you come to recognize the instrumentals by name, the names actually have a lot of double meanings in relation to the show. Fire in The Town not only plays when there’s an actual fire, but also when Anne’s rumors about prissy set the town ablaze

41. “If the key to a mans heart is through his stomach-“ “Which it is!” “Then, we have to make sure that this is the best shepherds pie that Gilbert has ever had.”

42. Anne wanting a boy to loved for her brain and personality rather than her abilities to keep a home

43. “Don’t you think Gilbert looks even more handsome now that he’s sad?” “I didn’t notice.”

44. I just noticed aunt Josephines mourning clothes, I know she was grieving but I didn’t put two and two together

45. “Take the boy the godforsaken pie before I suffer a mental collapse.”

46. Anne rambling excitedly about Jane Eyre.

47. Anne almost spoiling the book, just like Gertrude used to do

48. Anne suddenly breaking down over death. I’ve done that before, far more frequently in middle school when I realized that we all die someday

49. “It must be awful beyond measure to lose someone that you love deeply. In a split second, a heartbeat, they’re gone forever… and there is nothing you can do to change it or bring them back…”

50. “Anne? You’re crying on the potatoes.”

51. “There’s nothing wrong with saying ‘I’m sorry for your loss’, Ruby. And I’m going to say it because I am.” “You’re just going to make it worse if you say that. His father!! Just died!!!” “That’s what people say when someone dies.” “I don’t want you to upset him.” “He’s already upset because his father just died!”

52. “We hope you like shepherds pie.” “Everyone LIKES shepherds pie 😡. We hope it’s a comfort to you, Gilbert.🥰”

53. Anne telling “but I would make a terrible wife!” And running out.

54. Matthew offering to help Gilbert get his farm back in order

55. Gilbert not wanting to be a farmer but having an entire farm shoved off on him when his only family does, despite being… 14 at most? 15 maybe?

56. Matthew losing all his crops when the Dal Marie sank

57. Billy wanting Gilbert back to control the “ugly orphan” and Gilbert defending Anne

58. “She’s smart, deal with it.”

59. Gilbert telling billy to read a book for once

60. “I’ll give you a tip, okay? I’m not your bud. And if you ever hassle Anne again, you’ll regret it.”

61. “What’s your problem?” “Ask me that again. No, seriously. Go ahead.” “Why you gotta be like that?” “Ask me!” “…what’s your problem?”

62. Gilbert throwing his stuff at billy to preoccupy his hands and THEN punching him straight in his stupid face

63. The boys are fighting!!!! And rolling around in the snow too that’s kind of funny looking

64. Gilbert beating billy in that fight

65. Marilla telling Gilbert about his father

66. All of Gilbert’s siblings died

67. Gilbert’s father taking him to Alberta before he died, where Gilbert was born

68. “You resemble him in many ways.”

69. “He asked you to go?” I’ll always be grateful to him for thinking I’d be brave enough. Obligation… can be a prison.”

70. Anne trying to write a letter to Gilbert apologizing for what she said

71. Anne visiting aunt Josephine for advice and accidentally interrupting her grieving

72. “Emotion is rarely convenient and often intolerable, but I find at the moment that I don’t mind it.”

73. “Grief is the price you pay for live, you see. So it’s alright.”

74. “You and I are not the marrying kind.” “Ah, but I was, in my way. And we had a full and wonderful life together, and I gave no regrets. That’s all you really have to decide Anne, to live a life without regrets.”

75. Anne kissing aunt Josephine on the cheek and running off to live said life

76. No Matthew don’t make that loan deal!!!

77. Anne sprinting to Gilbert’s house bit for the first time of many to come, being too late to reach him.

#anne with an e #renew awae #awae #anne shirley cuthbert #gilbert blythe #josephine barry #marilla cuthbert #mathew cuthbert #diana barry

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likeawildthing · 3 years ago

Text

Tw grief

Today I took a spontaneous road trip to a random Hardee’s an hour away to pick up a dollhouse. The dollhouse is a good deal, but I would have gone for a toaster. My true need was escape, an open horizon, and my one and only playlist—2012 angsty folk.

The roads snaked perfectly through dead fields as the sun burned off the rest of last week’s snow. I kept adjusting my visor because I am short, and such is my lot in life. And I had to remind myself, particularly when I stopped to watch a trio of bald eagles fighting over a fish, that the fields aren’t dead. They’re overwintering, regenerating, preparing for new life next year.

I don’t know if it was supposed to be a weird metaphor, but I do know that the sun has risen 364 times days since you left and I have missed you every single day.

Maybe the birds tearing apart the fish are the metaphor? And I hope you’ve got better things to do than send me signs. I’ve already proven I’m terrible at interpreting them and don’t deserve your hypothetical efforts. While I’d like to think you would have loved watching them, the birds, or believe they were some sort of sign, you were always more flowers than birds.

Were. Not are. I still mis-tense your alive-ness.

You are technically dead, yes, and a part of your body is sitting in a little urn judging me for being so emotional over little old you, but you aren’t gone.

You are very gone in a literal sense, but—

We are playing 31 tomorrow. I eat meals on your fine, rarely used wedding China three times a day. Us girls pass the same grandma anecdotes back and forth like lip balm.

You are in every grilled cheese I make for the boys, even though mine will never measure up to yours, for them or me.

I buy them fruit snacks for the first time in their lives. That one would make you so mad, actually, given how often we had the fruit-snacks-aren’t-fruit debate.

I planted and promptly neglected a memorial garden in your honor that somehow didn’t die. That, I will credit to you.

You wouldn’t want this for me, to be sad and ugly crying on my couch on a Friday night, but a aren’t here to give me perspective so, shush. Except don’t shush.

Grandpa wanted me to change over the voice message you’ve for 20 years. I ignored him because I still call your house to hear your voice.

On the way home from the dollhouse pickup a podcast aired. I won’t bore you with explaining what a podcast is or anything, but the crux was that after a loss, there is a hole in the forward. People cling to memories because it’s all they have, but it’s a sorry substitute for what’s really wrong—every new memory is without that person.

And that’s it. You have been gone for a year and you have missed so much. Every celebration was twinged. And you will miss every memory going forward. The boys’ milestones, mine. I will always think “can’t wait to tell gram” and get a punch in my gut when I can’t.

Maybe that will happen less over time, but maybe not. If you remember, we were very close.

So thank you for that. For looking after me and after my children. In a hundred big and small ways you took care of us, were there for us, loved us. You were bright, even when you were sharp. And we have, and still do, love you.

I don’t know who I would be without your influence and I’m glad I don’t have to. You’ll have to pardon my tears, because you are worth them.

You had no regrets when you died and I am happy for you even while I’m terribly depressed for myself. I don’t begrudge you what I hope is a very well earned, peaceful afterlife, if such a thing exists. You believed it enough for the both of us.

And finally, one of the greatest comforts of my life is that no matter how short I was, I was always taller than you.

Cheers to one year gma.

Linds

#grief

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kung-fu-headcanons · 4 years ago

Note

What do you think would've happened if Po died painfully in front of his friends? (Ships are fine if you want.)

I love your post btw!

Ah, yes, angst, my specialty. OF COURSE!!! And also, thank you! I'm always happy to hear people enjoy the stuff I make 😊 (and especially since I often lose motivation-)

I'm gonna keep it non ship related because y e s

Trigger Warning: detailed descriptions of gore. If you're sensitive to that, please read at your own risk ⚠️

Po had been through a lot of instances where he almost died, so you can just take any scenario and plug it into what I'm about to describe, it should run along the same general idea at the very least

Before he does die, he's too busy caught up with fighting the villain he is fighting, and protecting his friends, so he doesn't notice he's about to receive a killing blow.

Tigress, being the most observant out of them all, notices immediately, that the villain is about to step out of honor (not that they really had any in the first place- but you get the idea) and straight up murder their opponent.

The others notice right as Tigress is about to shout a warning, or jump in and get Po out of harm's way, since if she's around, her fast reflexes are typically able to save Po out of a real doozy, but this time, she's too late.

Either that, or Po had forced her and the others ahead of time to not interfere and that, he would die for them to be safe if he had to. Which in this case, was exactly what happened.

Its pretty needless to say it's a traumatizing experience. If the sight of Po being sliced in half, or crushed underneath weight, wasn't bad enough, then his screams of pain as he died definitely did.

It wasn't like, a blast of energy that failed his internal systems but left his outer body with just scratches and bruises, this is legit, he took on all the damage, inside and out.

The fact that Po is dead doesn't even register with these guys, because all they see right now, is blood, spilled guts, and chopped up/torn body parts. Depending on how he died, this varies, but there's a lot of blood and puncture wounds for sure.

The villain laughs, gloating over that he had murdered the Dragon Warrior, and inevitable doom was coming. Without Oogway (there seems to be a common trend with villains and Oogway lol) or the Dragon Warrior around, China would fall!

Well, the thing is, warriors don't give up. There's a time for grief, and it's not now. The Five and Shifu give everything they have left to drive off the villain and finish what Po couldn't.

It's a long, hard, fight, and they have to seriously watch themselves since the villain has no problem killing off the rest of them. I mean, just look at what happens to Po. His slayer had murdered him without a single moment's hesitation.

By the time the fight has disputed, and they're the only ones left, they find that Po's corpse is so messy they don't even know how they're going to carry it back and place what's left of him in a coffin.

It finally settled upon them, that Po is gone. He's dead, he's not coming back, he isn't in a long sleep, he's literally gone.

The ones that are most affected by this, are Shifu and Tigress.

Tigress just.. can't handle it anymore and she starts sobbing, literally the first time ever she's broken out of her usual state, she's not one for emotions but she seriously can't handle it anymore

Po was somebody that she cared about, somebody that she grew close to, somebody that she valued as an honorable kung fu master to fight alongside her.

Shifu has lost students before in the past, but none of them had been like Po. Po was just.. so much more different. He may have been sillier than what kung fu calls for, but.. it was enjoyable. Shifu learned a lot from Po, as did the others.

They all took something away from him, and he was.. no more. Po slipped away, just like that. Not a moment to spare.

Many attend his funeral, it's the largest funeral ever held by the Valley of Peace. Even people from afar travelled to attend and honor the passing of the Dragon Warrior.

Time with him was so short. The Five and Shifu really regret underestimating him and being not so nice to him at times. They didn't exactly realize how much Po meant to them. Now it was too late. They miss him. So much.

Po's horrible death haunts them, it's in their nightmares, the terrible death he died, they can't get out of their minds. It's always there, an image implanted into their heads. They're scarred about it for life. The Jade Palace does not feel the same, and it's never going to feel the same.

To close things out on a slightly lighter note.. I think it's safe to say, we all need a somebody like Po in our lives. Somebody to believe in is when we don't believe in ourselves. Somebody that brightens up your day. Somebody that has a good heart, and will be a true friend to you.

#tw: blood #tw: detailed descriptions of gore #kung fu panda #kung fu panda headcanons #kung fu panda hcs #kung fu panda hdcs #kung fu panda po #kfp #kfp headcanons #kfp hcs #kfp hdcs #kfp po

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kannra21 · 4 years ago

Text

Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

✂-------------------------------------------------------

Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air.

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him.

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago.

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways.

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment?

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that.

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways."

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head.

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here."

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes."

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at.

"How did you end up here?"

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask.

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought.

"Sorry about that."

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars.

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid.

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question.

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her.

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do."

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'."

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai."

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?"

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?"

"I killed them all."

...

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself."

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended.

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough.

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet.

"At least you're brought here in one piece."

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them.

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger.

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!"

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth.

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling."

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head.

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate."

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way.

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other.

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together.

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop.

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?"

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice.

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence.

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that?

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself.

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you."

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #overhaul #chisaki kai #sniperhaul #shie hassaikai #ch 311 #bnha spoilers #bnha fic #crack ship #parody

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ibijau · 4 years ago

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Lapse in memory pt 3 / on AO3

aka the fic where nhs is cursed into amnesia a few years post canon, and came to lxc for help

The worst part of Nie Huaisang’s amnesia, Lan Xichen soon decided, was the realisation that he should have seen long ago that there was something wrong with Nie Mingjue’s little brother.

Although the other man had apparently always possessed frightening self control which made it difficult to know how much his current loss of memory impacted him, he used that control in a manner very different from what he had done after the death of his brother. Instead of displaying eternal sorrow and helplessness, Nie Huaisang was acting exactly the same as he had done before his life took a turn for the worst. He smiled, and chatted with people as if things were perfectly fine, only to break down once alone with Lan Xichen, asking when this person had died, whether that remark had been a joke or a reference to a true event.

If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't been shown the other side Lan Xichen might have fallen for that new comedy as he had fallen for the old one. Nie Huaisang was good at this.

In fact, as Lan Xichen started remembering over the following days, he was good at many things.

For example Nie Huaisang was smart, it turned out. After a decade of lies, Lan Xichen had forgotten that, too used to a man who barely managed to pick his own outfits without needing three different opinions, and would make four mistakes in a two digit addition. And indeed, when it came to cultivation, or when Wei Wuxian tried to discuss his ideas about what curse might have hit him, Nie Huaisang was clearly lost. But when the topic interested him, when someone mentioned art or literature, he spoke expertly and always made excellent points.

Because he had his own duties to attend, and he aimed at being a better sect leader than he had been in the past, Lan Xichen spent little time with Nie Huaisang at first, and thus rarely enjoyed his conversation. Since the other man couldn’t be allowed to wander freely when there was still the possibility that all this was only a deception, Lan Xichen assigned one of his young disciples he trusted the most to stay with Nie Huaisang and make sure he didn’t misbehave. Almost immediately, he started hearing about the heated debates that Lan Jingyi and Nie Huaisang got into over classics, over art, over just anything that could be debated, and quite a few that shouldn’t. Lan Xichen had offered to find another person to keep Nie Huaisang company, only for Nie Huaisang to protest he was having great fun with Lan Jingyi.

It surprised Lan Xichen at first. Nie Huaisang wasn’t a man who enjoyed confrontation.

But he had once been a boy who did. Nie Mingjue used to complain at length about that, as did Lan Qiren when he’d had the dubious pleasure of teaching him. Nie Huaisang once had opinions on just about everything, especially if it could get him out of doing something he didn’t enjoy. Lan Xichen had found it amusing for a long time, and even he had been tricked into the odd argument here and there. But then there had been the war, there had been the constant worsening of Nie Mingjue’s temper, and Nie Huaisang’s tendency to argue over everything hadn’t felt so cute anymore.

After those difficult final few months, it had been a relief, in a way, when Nie Huaisang’s grief had made him so mild and pliable. He had never objected to any advice given to him, agreeing to everything and anything that Nie Mingjue’s sworn brothers suggested. If Lan Xichen hadn’t been so devastated by the loss they had both suffered, perhaps he would have noticed something was wrong.

Perhaps it was guilt, then, that soon pushed Lan Xichen to rearrange his schedule so he could spend a little more time with Nie Huaisang every day. He refused to let him down again. Or perhaps it was selfishness, the joy of having an old friend back in his life, someone who didn't know about his failings, and didn't judge him for being imperfect.

"Imperfection is more fun," Nie Huaisang claimed one evening, as they sat together inside the Hanshi's courtyard, watching a pair of swallows build a nest under the rafters. "I like you better when you're not trying to be Zewu-jun. Zewu-Jun is a very boring person, while Lan Xichen is delightful company. Do you remember how we used to laugh sometimes when I came here to study? You did such a good imitation of your uncle. And you'd help me with my homeworks, and I'd let you have candies… wasn't that more fun than being perfect?"

"I miss those days," Lan Xichen admitted, something he had never told anyone except Jin Guangyao, once. He'd instantly regretted it back then, realising that Jin Guangyao had never had a chance to enjoy a carefree youth. He didn't regret telling Nie Huaisang who laughed so hard he startled the swallows, making them fly away for a moment.

"Of course you miss that! Well, I'm back now, and until I'm better I can give you a taste of how it used to be. If I make you laugh enough, you'll stop being angry at me, right?"

“I’m not angry at you,” Lan Xichen said, which to his surprise wasn’t even a lie. This young and innocent Nie Huaisang, whose biggest crime was cheating during exams, who hadn’t yet discovered his own viciousness through fighting with Nie Mingjue and then for him, who could be irritating but always remained endearing… how could Lan Xichen have been angry at him?

“But you’re angry at the man I’ve become,” Nie Huaisang said.

Lan Xichen looked at him, that handsome young man sitting just a little too close, leaning somewhat toward Lan Xichen and yet tense enough that at the first sign of anger he’d probably leap away and disappear, the way he used to do with Nie Mingjue.

Lan Xichen wondered again how he had forgotten how observant Nie Huaisang could be. He should have known. The moment Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji told him that something terrible had been done to Nie Mingjue’s body, Lan Xichen should have guessed that Nie Huaisang knew as well, and that he’d be doing anything to avenge his brother.

“I think I’m more angry at myself than at you,” Lan Xichen said. “What happened, what you’ve done, it was… Maybe you really had no choice, or you thought you had no choice anyway, and I’m not sure I have a right to judge you. You… you still don’t remember, do you?”

“No. I don’t think I want to,” Nie Huaisang said. He started playing nervously with his sleeve, having forgotten his fan somewhere, and hesitantly spoke again. “I don’t think he wanted to remember either,” he whispered. “Him. Me. I… I don’t think it was an accident, Er-ge. I think I forgot on purpose.”

Startled by the confession, Lan Xichen stared again at Nie Huaisang who avoided his eyes. He looked pale, and started shaking slightly, as if again expecting a burst of anger that didn’t come. Lan Xichen was too stunned for that.

“When did you start suspecting this?”

“Right away,” Nie Huaisang confessed, nervously playing with his sleeve, pulling and tugging at the fabric. “It was just too odd that there was nothing at all about those lost years. I found some recent correspondence which let me know I wasn’t on very good terms with you, Jiang Cheng and Jin zongzhu, but that was it. And I know myself, Er-ge. I’ve kept a journal of everything I do since I was seven. Everything important, I write it down so I remember, I should have had a trace of those missing years.”

Lan Xichen nodded. Nie Huaisang had mentioned that habit of his, back when he was studying in the Cloud Recesses. Back then he’d complained that too little happened and he had nothing to write down, but also that homework and studying took so long he almost didn’t have time for his diary. Lan Xichen hadn’t realised that the habit was such a serious one, and he’d never heard Nie Huaisang mention it again as an adult, so he hadn’t thought to ask about that.

“Could it be that you simply stopped doing this?” Lan Xichen asked.

Nie Huaisang shook his head and frowned.

“It’s not just a hobby. My memory isn’t great, I really forget things if I don’t write them down. Everything important… in code if it's too important, of course, I’m only a little stupid. And I hid the journal, and kept all of them, from the very first. I’m the only one who knew where they’re all kept, but when I went to check, many of them had been destroyed, or at least moved somewhere else. Everything after the Sunshot Campaign is gone. Maybe he hoped to forget the war too.”

Not so much the war as what had happened just before it, Lan Xichen thought. He’d heard about the way hostage juniors had been treated by the Wens, and the horror of the Xuanwu of Slaughter killing people in that cave. Nie Huaisang had never wanted to talk about that, Lan Xichen recalled. He usually loved to complain, but on that particular topic he’d always close off or change the subject.

Aside from the death of Nie Mingjue, the terror of the evil Xuanwu had to have been the worst moment of Nie Huaisang’s life.

Without thinking Lan Xichen took Nie Huaisang’s hand, hoping to comfort him. Nie Huaisang startled and trembled, but didn’t try to remove his hand.

“I think it’s like you said,” Nie Huaisang explained, looking pleadingly at Lan Xichen. “That he did certain things because he thought he had no choice. He… I… if someone harmed da-ge, then I’d want to harm them back," he hissed with such rage that Lan Xichen shivered, reminded of the man Nie Huaisang had indeed become. "Even if it was san-ge! I can’t believe he’d do something like that, he’s always so nice, but it doesn’t matter. If I had been sure he’d hurt da-ge, then I… I would…”

“I know,” Lan Xichen said, squeezing Nie Huaisang’s hand.

“I think I had regrets of a sort though,” Nie Huaisang said. “The way it seems to me… I didn’t regret that these things had been done, I didn’t regret that people had died or been hurt, but I didn’t want to live with the weight of that either. I think… I’m a little bit of a coward, Er-ge. I’m fine with knowing I did horrible things, I just don’t want to know what they are, because that way it’s not really me who did them. So I can see why I chose to forget, and I also don’t want to remember.”

Had it been anyone else, Lan Xichen would have found that person cowardly indeed. Just as he bore the guilt of his failures and strove to do better, he would expect others to face their own faults, take their punishment, and try to improve in the future. But Nie Huaisang wasn’t just anyone, and Lan Xichen pitied him too much to wish for his suffering. Nie Huaisang had already been punished enough for what he’d done, having lost his brother, having lost all his friends, having lost the respect of his sect.

Having lost himself, too.

“It’s fine if you don’t remember,” Lan Xichen said. “You can stay here with us. Wei Wuxian seems happy enough to have you around, Lan Jingyi loves having someone to argue with… even uncle said the other day that it’s been a while since he’s had a decent opponent at weiqi.”

“And what about you?” Nie Huaisang asked, his cheeks a little pinker than they ought to be. “Are you also happy to have me here?”

“I am,” Lan Xichen replied, surprised to find that this, too, was the truth.

Partly because he’d always been a little too fond of Nie Huaisang, back before the Sunshot Campaign changed everything and forced him to set aside most of his personal attachments to better serve his sect. Partly, also, because he liked this current Nie Huaisang, who wasn’t quite as naïve and self-absorbed as he’d been as a boy, but lacked the cruelty years of solitude and resentment had taught him.

This was Nie Huaisang as he would have been, had the world been a little kinder. A clever young master who watched the world around him and understood people a little too well, but loved fun too much to ever do anything with what he learned, as long as his loved ones were safe.

“I’m glad to be here as well,” Nie Huaisang said.

He shuffled a little closer until he could rest his head against Lan Xichen’s shoulder. It had been years since anyone dared to be so carelessly intimate with Lan Xichen, who found he didn’t mind. Not if it was Nie Huaisang.

“You know, I’ve talked with Wei-xiong today, about this,” Nie Huaisang continued. “About what happened to me, and why, and how. He thinks it’s a curse, and there’s probably a condition that would allow it to be lifted. There usually is, after all. But I think if I really did this to myself, I'd have picked an impossible condition, because I wouldn't want to be saved from it. So I might stay like this for the rest of my life.”

“And you’ll be welcome to stay here that entire time,” Lan Xichen promised without thinking, squeezing Nie Huaisang’s hand again.

“That sounds really nice. I think I’ll take you on your offer, Er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said with a smile that Lan Xichen would have kissed if he’d dared. Later, while lying in his bed, he would wonder if he should have tried, only to eventually decide it would have ruined the moment.

Perhaps someday, in the future, thing would take that direction. For now they both had too much to deal with, too much to learn again about each other. It was fine. Lan Xichen was content to remain like this, sitting close together, holding hands, and watching those swallows finish their nest.

Just this was already more than he’d ever imagined he would get.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #if I had a tag for that story I don't remember it #but it started as a prompt fill so I probably didn't have a tag for it lol #nhs amnesia

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