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primasveraas-writing · 5 years ago

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Star Wars- Reacting to Your Death Preference

Request: “Could you write a Star Wars preference on how the trios of each trilogy (+Ahsoka) would react to the death of the reader, please?”

Boi everyone in SW needs therapy. All of them go though like 2 wars and they're all supposed to be fine lol. This was so sad, there are no healthy coping mechanisms in the galaxy far far away...

XXX

Anakin:

As someone with a great deal of responsibility on his shoulders, Anakin takes your death personally; he feels that he should have prevented it, no matter how you died. He is angry and in denial, lashing out at others in his helplessness. He can't accept that you're gone and searches for a way to bring you back. It takes the intervention of those closest to Anakin for him to realize you're not coming back, and it's with their support that he slowly begins to heal. He still feels guilt and incredible grief. It's hard for him to talk about you for a long time, and he never truly lets go of you, even after he accepts that you're gone.

Obi-wan:

Unfortunately, Obi-wan is no stranger to loss. Though losing you ruins him, he knows how to carry on despite the hole in his heart. He becomes quieter, more melancholy. Obi-wan needs time and space to move on, so he isolates himself at first, even while seeming normal to those who don’t truly know him. He isn't one to talk about his feelings, so he mourns in private, reflecting on the time you had together. It's painful to remember your past and know you no longer have a future together, but he faces reminders of you everywhere in his life, and at the end of the day, it is only time and the memory of you that can heal this wound.

Padmé:

She is stunned and devastated. Though she controls it well, she's extremely emotional. At first, she can't believe you're gone, but day by day the grief hits her. Padmé is resilient, so she tries to carry on without you like everything is normal, but she mourns you in private. Only her closest friends truly see how upset she is, and it carries on for months. Eventually, she realizes that your legacy is in her hands; she decides to turn her sorrow into action and ensure that you are remembered. She memorializes you the best she can, sharing stories and pictures with your loved ones and supporting the causes you cared most about. Padmé carries you with her always and treasures your memory forever.

Luke:

Luke is completely devastated by this loss. It feels as if the ground has been ripped from under his feet. You were his partner, his guiding force and his support in everything. He feels so directionless without you. Although he knows he can't bring you back, he tries to live out every day in your memory, to make you proud. Your death puts everything in perspective, and he sees all in the galaxy you never got to do. This motivates him to live as you would and take every available opportunity to achieve the things you never got the chance to. It's terrible before it can be bittersweet, but Luke knows you're with him always.

Han:

Han's grief simmers, completely concealed from everyone around him until it finally boils over. Just hours after you die, Han reverts back to normal. He's dealt with so much loss, so why should your absence be any different? Though he has a mask of coolness, his temper and ability to hide his true feelings only last for a short time. It's something small- someone makes light of your death or tries to move something from where you last left it, and Han loses all control. He yells until he's hoarse, lashing out at anyone and anything near him, about how unfair it is that you're gone, how much he regrets not being able to save you, how angry he is at the universe from taking you away from him. He's devastated to his very core, but once he realizes how ruined he really is by your loss, he starts to accept it. However, even as the years go by, he never truly lets go- you and your memory are a precious subject he rarely speaks about.

Leia:

Leia is nothing if not strong, made of durasteel and impervious to even the greatest of losses. To the public, she accepts your death with a quiet grace, a leader who honors a fallen lover with dignity and repose. But privately, to only the select few, she falls apart. She can't sleep and often takes long walks at night instead. She finds this quiet time the best opportunity to remember and mourn you. She cries then, and to Luke and Han, who support her and are courteous enough not to mention that these are her most vulnerable moments. She endures because she must, but you leave a gaping hole amongst all the other spots of emptiness in her heart.

Rey:

Because Rey is relatively new to unconditional, unfaltering love, the grief from your death is a terrible and unfamiliar thing. She was never prepared to lose you, but knowing this makes her feel all the more foolish. After her family abandoned her, she should have known you, in some way would do the same. This thought haunts her for weeks until Finn confronts her, and she confesses, in tears, why she's been so distant and angry at the mention of your name. She ultimately breaks down, feeling guilty for blaming you, but afterward starts to rely on her friends for support. Her memory of you, at first painful, becomes a welcome solace and as she moves forward, she talks to anyone and everyone about you and what you meant to her. It's how she keeps you and your love alive.

Poe:

As a hero of the Resistance, Poe tries to be infallible. He's responsible for so many other lives, which is why he's so gutted when he loses you. His denial consumes everything: you cannot be gone because he needs you, and the galaxy is so much dimmer without you in it. Poe feels so helpless that he can't bring you back, but he can't accept your absence either. His anger at himself and for whatever killed you overwhelms him. He feels like he's lost all control, but your loss is the very thing that faces him to confront his grief. Each time he turns to talk to you and you're not there, Poe has to remember that he needs to accept your death and learn how to live without you. In the end, he knows that all you would have wanted is for him to be happy, and that remembrance becomes his will to move on.

Finn:

When you die, Finn's deepest fear comes true. He never had a family until he found you and the Resistance, and he has struggled to accept that he might lose what he loves most. When you die, he feels the part of him brave enough to love start to shrivel and waste away. It took so much to say he loved you, and now you're gone. The presence of his friends and the memory of your smile are at first not enough to justify losing you, but he slowly starts to realize that he doesn't want to let go of those he cares about, that even though it hurts, he'd never want a galaxy where he couldn't love you. Your death is the great, terrible lesson about love: loving you was worth losing you.

+Ahsoka:

A soldier from a young age, Ahsoka has the unique and traumatizing ability to accept things as they come, even the death of their most beloved. At first, she is only sad that you're gone- she can't deal with the fact that her heart has been ripped out of her chest until she finds more than a few hours of peace. When the storm hits, she is sobbing and hopeless. Her training as a Jedi confuses her: how can she know peace when you’re dead? Ahsoka isolates herself, becoming reckless and going on missions alone. It’s when she has a close call and wakes up in the Medbay that Ahsoka realizes that she can’t bring you back, but you’re all around her. She sees you in the bravery of others risking their lives for a cause they believe in, in the kindness of strangers, and in the hope of each new sunrise. You are apart of the Force now, surrounding her. After all, she remembers, no one is ever truly gone.

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lotornomiko · 3 years ago

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The Broken Hearted Comfort Chapter Three (A bit not work safe at times...)

A bit...not safe for work, but nothing too explicit. Gets a bit dub con at the end too...Fic is thus far one big ball of angst about dub con. ^^;;

Hook Belle Pairing...

As had always been the case, his descent into madness of any kind, was never that of a slow thing, and this, the new and the latest of obsessions of his, had him plummeting headfirst into the abyss, To a place where no rhyme and no reason could make any true sense, Hook driven by such desire, such need. His peace, be it short lived, or long lasting, was such a hard fought thing to acquire, Hook having gone too long tortured without its relief. The memories, the grief that had so consumed him, was starting to trickle back in, his sorrow and that of a blood thirsty revenge trying to make their effect known, Hook left raging inconsoloable one moment, then almost driven to tears in the next. He’d fall into the old patterns, drinking, gambling, even womanziing. Picking fights with that of his crew and especially that of some random strangers, the pirate without caring, ready to be pounded into oblvion, maybe even killed, if it meant earning himself a single moment of respite, that of that blessed peace he had in brief so attained.

Nothing however, was working. Nothing had the magic to push back his rage and his pain. Not even when he tried to drink himself sick, the memories not only remained, they seemed to surge even stronger. Milah was made more vivid in his head than he could ever actually remember her being. As was the past, their all too brief life together colored with such sorrow so that even the good moments, the happy ones of which there had been plenty, were now tainted, ruined by her loss. By the brutal death she had suffered, murdered by Rumplestiltskin’s own cowardly hands.

That moment seemed so potent before his eyes, playing out far too often in his head. It left an already desperate man driven to extreme lengths in his quest for relief, that brief peace attained, having left him crazed for it to happen again, for HER to be chanced on once more. She didn’t though, the woman having vanished in the most strangest of ways, leaving Hook to his own vices. He was made one part furious, angry at the stranger for having abandoned him, while trying to convince himself that her effect had been nothing but a mere fluke. A chance that would not repeat, or one that could be found in the arms of another. It left him drinking, and it left sampling a finer selection of women inside the port town. Everything from whores to what nobles he could lay hand on, it didn’t much matter who. He was beyond being picky, taking what he could get and paying for what he couldn’t. It left him feeling more empty than ever, despising himself, and coming away cold with the realization that the woman, that Belle, was indeed something special. Something that was fast becoming as necessary to his mental well being as what the very air was to his lungs.

Within a week’s time, he had tired of trying. Left disgusted by the failures, and rendered utterly despondent, Hook was more than a little irritated by the lengths he had been driven to. It had achieved nothing, had left him feeling dirty and cheap, and all the more certain that that time with Belle hadn’t just been some fluke. She truly was that vital piece that he was needing, regardless of how little sense it, any of it,, actually made. She was so essential an essence, and it was terrible, horrible, the pirate reeling, knowing he had let that vital a piece slip free so carelessly of his own fingers. He should have never let her go, but more than that, the man wished he had done so much differently.

Unable to keep from tormenting himself with those musings, with wondering what would have happened instead if Hook had shown that beautiful woman the care that she actually had deserved. Would she have still run from him then? Or would he have had to carry her off instead, to keep as his own private spoils aboard his ship? Regardless, it was a dark, dark path that he had decided on, for the pirate already knew that if he was so lucky as to be graced with another chance with Belle, Hook wouldn’t be letting her go. He’d KEEP her, regardless of her wishes, even if it meant making that pretty lass a prisoner, that desperate need of Hook’s the strongest made shackles ever devised. With them, what had been bound together by fate, would further tie them together. He may not properly understand it, could hardly dare believe, but something was at work here, their grief the mutual draw. The bait that had lured Belle to him, and Hook to her, and though he couldn’t fathom the HOW of it, the pirate knew what he now needed. What he was going mad without getting, thoughts of Belle that of a different kind of torment, a sweet torture he repeatedly indulged in again and again.

Driven by it, by the need to be with her, NEAR her, Hook would often return to her room at the fancy inn. The desk clerk was only too glad to take his coins, remaining quiet and circumspect about the things that Hook did inside of Belle's lodgings. The first two nights alone, had seen him reveling in the fading scent of her on the soft linen sheets of her bed. The smell of her shampooed hair on the pillows, those scents were something to savor, even as he was left feeling like some pervert. He was more than that, when he took to stroking himself off to unsatisfying climax after climax, that dress of hers crushed against his face, imagining he could pick up the fading scent of the rain, and that of her own skin’s flavor.

He was left wanting, Belle out of reach, but not that of her things. They and this need reduced him to less than a man, so crazed and obsessed, and fixated on the having. Made inconsolable over continuing to be denied, the pirate could no less stop his twisted behavior, than control how he was worsening in her absence. It left him spending more and more nights at the inn, his own ship all but forsaken, Hook lying in wait in the hopes that Belle would one day walk in through the bedroom's front door. He lived for that moment, imagining it. Fantasying about it, and the things that he would do. Not all of them were pleasant, Hook sometimes wanting to punish Belle for running from him. For making him go through the agony of this separation. Those fantasies excited him, even the violent forceful ones, Hook not always in the state of mind to coax a surrender out of her.

By the third day her scent had faded completely, the sheets smelling like Hook now. He kept on returning to the room, taking fitful periods of rest, but more often than not merely waiting, sleep eluding him save for the moments right after he spent himself on fantasies.

A full week would pass like this, Hook having familiarized himself with all of Belle's belongings. Learning the kind of stories that she liked to read, the perfume and oils she preferred to use, even finding a pressed rose preserved between the pages of one book, its color long faded. He wondered about that rose, wondered just what its significance was. And just as quickly knew it had to be a gift from an admirer, from the one who had hurt her in the first place.

The rose didn't survive that jealous realization, Hook crushing it in his fist. A single thorn had remained on the stem, cutting into Hook's palm. He'd freeze and stare at the blood, ready to laugh when a loud and familiar knock sounded on the door.

"Come in, Mr. Smee."

As usual, the man had his red cap on. He'd take it in hand, nervously fidgeting with the knit wool as he looked around the room. Hook knew it was a sight, Belle's things littered about the place, dresses on the floor, books and trinkets on the bed. It looked like a whirlwind had torn through this place, but in actuality it had been just Hook raving wild.

"Well?" Hook demanded, his voice sharp and strained. He so badly wanted Smee to deliver him some good news for a change, to give him the lead that Hook was so desperate for.

Smee nervously glanced at Hook. A mind reader was not needed to tell the older man was troubled by Hook's recent behavior. Hell, Hook was bothered by it too, at least during the few moments of sanity he was afforded. Those moments were ones that seemed to happen less and less, Hook running a hand over his face, and realizing he hadn't shaved in quite a while.

"Did you find her?" Hook asked, his tone even more urgent now.

"It seems we're not the only ones looking." Smee said at last. He looked as though he was bracing for violence, which wasn't all that unexpected given the way Hook had been acting these last few days.

"Who?" A simple enough word but one that was snarled out with all the rage and fury that Hook could muster. Wondering and fearing it was the one who had intially hurt Belle that could now be that who the one who was looking for the young lass. Fearing that fiend's intentions, and knowing Hook would steal her away no matter the danger, he was hardly relieved when Smee spit out just who else was on the hunt.

"The Queen." Smee looked torn, as though he didn't know who he feared worse. Regina or Hook, and such was the Evil Queen's power, that the mere mention of her name might magically summon her before them.

"The Queen?" Hook scowled. "Whatever for?"

"That I do not know." Smee voiced his apologies. "But the queen has offered a substantial reward for any information that might lead to a finding."

Hook grumbled under his breath, hating that the situation had gotten worse. The Evil Queen was relentless, notorious for getting whatever she wanted. Belle was as good as caught, though Hook was determined to make sure she didn't stay that way. At least not with Regina!

Hook began pacing with Smee watching him. A decision was being debated in the older man's eyes, before he finally sighed, almost sounding defeated when he did speak again.

"There's more."

Hook didn't stop, still pacing about the room like a caged animal. "What now?" He demanded, wondering if something could possibly make the situation any worse.

"Someone claims to have seen your girl leave the city on a wagon." Smee was careful not to say Belle's name, not after Hook had once threatened to split his lip for any future utterings of it. It had been completely irrational, but then Hook often felt that way now, irrational, jealous, downright possessive of any and all that had to do with the woman, and that included even Belle's name.

"And did they happen to say where that wagon was headed?" Hook demanded out loud.

"A city to the east." Smee supplied, not quite ready to offer even a glimmer of a smile. "It's a four day journey by wagon....we can be there by ship in less than two if we leave immediately."

"Then gather the men." Hook told him. "We leave within the hour."

"Right captain!" Smee said, putting his red cap back on his head. He hesitated when he noticed Hook didn't move to follow him out the room. "Captain?"

"She'll be wanting her things." Hook decided. "The desk clerk shouldn't have any problems sparing a boy to pack up and deliver them to the ship."

"Right..." Smee acknowledged but Hook barely heard him. He was too busy looking around the room, tracing fingers over a dress of hers. Anticipating how she would look in it, and wanting, needing to see it in shambles on her body, Belle thoroughly ravished and made disheveled by Hook.

Even with such fantasies giving Hook reason to pause and sweat, he managed to get himself and Belle's belongings to the ship in just an hour's time. His crew was already in place, the ship set to sail at Hook's command. He'd give it almost immediately, visibly eager to get their travels underway.

His crew was happy to set out, glad to leave the town behind them. People of the sea, they grew restless if they remained on land for much longer than a few days. Hook was the same way, preferring the sight of the open seas, and the fresh ocean breeze on his face, to being grounded on land. And yet for all his love of the waters, he felt elation when the next town came into view.

Barely able to wait for the ship to be secured, Hook disembarked, practically leaping over the side railing to land on the pier's planks. Smee would follow at a much slower pace, and both men would look around with interest at a town they had never before been to. But they weren't here to sight see, Hook sending Smee off to do his information gathering. Hook himself would swagger into a local tavern and take up residence at a table. Hoping that perhaps Belle had resumed her nightly routine and had found a place at this new tavern's bar.

It soon was apparent that she had not, Hook wondering how many bars this town might actually have. Wondering if he and Smee would be doomed to visit all of them, and fearing they’d still find no word of her, when it happened. Smee having ambled in, and zeroing in on Hook with an uncanny precision. The man's eyes were wide, his face paler than normal. Hook knew then that the news was bad, and he actually braced himself with a drink before Smee reached his table and did the same.

"She has her." Smee announced.

The glass shattered in Hook's hand, ale soaking into the cuts the shards had left there. "When?" He asked hoarsely, barely aware of his pained flesh stinging.

"Just a few nights ago." Smee said. "Captain, I am so sorry..."

"It is not over." Hook said, than snapped louder in insistence. "IT IS NOT!"

"But if the Queen has her...."

"Then we simply take her from the Queen!" Hook told him, and Smee look horrified.

"Are you mad? You will get us all killed for sure!"

"I NEED her." Hook insisted, his voice raw and naked with his desperate feelings.

"But why?" Smee asked. "What could she possibly have? You don't even love her.....do you?"

"No. Of course not. But love and need are not always the same thing." Hook tried to explain. "Nor can we always choose just where or who we will find comfort in...."

Smee continued to wear that horrified, dismayed look, his head shaking no.

"I won't ask you to come along with me." Hook said, but then turned pleading. "I'll let you go just after you do me one last favor, and find out just where she is being kept."

Smee's upset had increased further, the man having pulled off his cap to crush it in his hands. "But Captain...I couldn't leave. Not after you've been so good to me."

Hook snorted at that, and Smee turned insulted. "You have!" He insisted.

"I've treated you like shit on the best days, and you know it."

"And it's still been a sight better than what my situation was before becoming part of your crew!" Smee sounded earnest enough.

"Then I shudder to think how bad off you were if that really is the case." Hook said, with the barest hint of a smile. "All right, stay with me to the bitter end if you like. Just get me her location!"

"Right captain!" Smee said, putting his cap back on with a relieved look on his face.

It wouldn't be an easy obtaining, many more days going by. Until it was nearly three weeks that Hook had now spent apart from Belle, the hunt for her having served well as a distraction from his grief. Especially when the hunt began to bear fruit, Smee finding a possible location. The ship would travel there, another week wasted on the trip. Hook's sanity was practically in tatters, the man alternating between anticipation, and wallowing in those grief induced moments when nothing worked to keep him distracted.

Now finally he was before the queen's prison tower, the ivory white spire extending high into the sky. Belle was rumored to be at the top of that tower, held under lock and key, and guarded by no less than twenty men. Hook didn't feel the weight of those odds pressing against him, the man downright chipper about his chances. Downright lucid, thinking he could take on the entire world just so long as Belle was the prize, even as Hook had to face the facts that he couldn't go it alone. Not in this.

A small number of his crew was selected, his bravest and best fighters. Naturally Smee was left behind with the ship, the older man more apt to stab himself with a sword than any opponent he might face. Smee was more than fine with the role that Hook had assigned to him, the older man acting as captain in Hook's absence. Keeping the ship ready to sail at a moment's notice, and expected to leave without them if a worst case scenario should actually happen.

The worst case scenario could have been anything from death to imprisonment, but for once fortune favored Hook. It was almost ridiculously easy to break into the tower, a bit of powder and explosives blowing the front door right off its hinges. A bit harder yet was the actual fighting, Hook and his crew of half a dozen fighters facing odds that were three to one. There was more guards than had been anticipated, but with his sweet prize so near, Hook was undeterred, Downright feral as he fought, all savage and dealing death to any fool guard who dared to try to cross swords with him.

The fighting took place all along the spiraling stair case of the tower. There were floors with other prisoners, and even a guard's station about half way up the tower. Hook and his crew didn't bother with investigating those, ignoring the excited cries of the other prisoners until one man pointed out the validity of setting them free. Of how the evil queen would find herself busy trying to track down all the escapees, and thus might never realize the target of this prison break was in fact one person in particular.

Hook leaped on the idea of it, eager to keep the queen confused and guessing. He sent his men to get busy opening the many cells, and continued on his way to the very top of the tower. Somewhere from below came an excited cheering, the freed prisoners quick to celebrate their newfound luck. Hook nearly grinned, feeling a similar excitement, and anticipating the celebration he himself would enjoy soon enough.

That almost grin and the head that wore it, were nearly sliced off, one last guard having lain in wait for Hook. He just barely got his sword up in time, sparks flying as the metal of his blade ground against the soldier’s. A twist of his hand, had the sword turning, Hook shoving back with it. The guardsman minced a step back, Hook slashing diagonally towards his chest. The man just barely jumped back in time, Hook nearly stumbling as his sword sliced through air.

Before he could right himself completely, the guardsman's sword slashed a cut across his back. The leather of his coat split open, the skin beneath only protected by the chain mail underneath his shirt. Hook could only silently thank Smee for insisting on it, the chain mail having saved Hook from an attack that might have otherwise proved deadly.

Whirling about, his hook grabbed at the blade, sliding up the length of it as more of a distraction than a defense, the pirate then twirled his sword before stabbing it forward. The guardsman didn't quite deflect it, the hook twisting, gripping the sword effortlessly. Blood appeared, the guardsman wounded but not yet defeated. Kicking out a leg in a desperate attempt to knock Hook back, only to get stabbed in the thigh.

The pained cry of the guardsman was followed by an angry grunt. The man knew he was defeated, and yet still he did not lay down his surrender. Fearing the Queen more than death itself, the guardsman all but threw himself onto Hook's sword, the blade's tip actually piercing through to the back of him.

The guardsman gagged on his own blood, sword hand going limp, its weapon clattering to the floor. Hook held him up just long enough to get the keys off of his belt, then let the body drop to the floor with a thud.

Shaking the gore off of his sword, Hook then slid it into the scabbard at his side. Feeling his heart beat quickening ever more, Hook fumbled with the keys, knowing now was the moment when he would find out for certain if Smee's information had been correct. Anticipation filled him, even as he knew there was a chance that Belle might not be inside the room, Hook finally on the fifth try, found the right key.

The door did not so much as even groan whenhe swung it open, its hinges that well oiled. Inside the woman was not immediately visible, Hook noticing instead that the room was a windowless cell, with little luxury afforded to it. And then he heard a sound to the left of him, a gasp that drew his eyes towards the woman who was now scrambling off of the cot.

Belle!

Her beautiful and oh so expressive eyes were wide, and even with her visible shock, that blue color was dismayed. Clearly suffering both a mix of surprise and a complete lack of wanting to see him, Belle's pretty little mouth was left open. One look at her, and weeks upon weeks of that built upon lust and desire came overriding what little sense and reason he had still had left. And that was before he noticed what she was wearing, the form fitting tunic that barely kept her legs covered. Her bare legs, Belle wearing no tights to go with the navy blue prison garb.

Knowing it was woefully inappropriate, that the timing alone was all wrong, Hook still advanced on Belle. She tried to take a step back, but her legs bumped against the cot behind her. He didn't quite catch her, instead actually tumbling down with her onto the small, uncomfortable cot. Kissing her, his mouth hard and possessive, even demanding. Ignoring the protesting sounds that she made, pressing between her legs so that he could rub his half hard cock against her panties.

Hook felt Belle's body jerk at that intrusive, intimate touch, but she had no where to go. She was trapped between his body and that of the cot, the woman gasping, protesting with dismayed sounds that he was only vaguely aware of. His hook besides her on the cot, was digging into the thin, inadequate mattress, Hook knowing this was insane. He should be doing anything BUT giving in to his urges, especially while still in the evil queen's tower.

But Belle's lips were even sweeter than remembered, even as they refused to part willingly for his tongue. It didn't seem to much matter, there was so many other places that Hook could kiss, so many spots to choose from if he only could have the proper amount of time.

The hand that hadn't been taken by the crocodile placed its trembling palm over her heart. One second to think he felt its beat, and then he was pawing at her, kneading at her breast. Grabbing, kissing all over, hearing her take a sharp breath a moment before Belle screamed.

The sound didn't quite jar him out of his fantasy, Hook still desperate for her. Wanting, needing, demanding, he thought if he only had her for just a moment longer, it might take the edge off of this all consuming hunger. Even as he reccongize that as a starving man that had gone too long without this particular meal, a tiny bite of her simply wasn't going to satisfy, Hook kissing Belle once more. Whispering feverishly, lips leaving a wet caress on the skin of her throat, Hook felt Belle shiver at the combined threat and promise of his words.

"We will finish this later."

One last resounding smack of his lips, Hook lifting his gaze to meet Belle's frightened one. Only to see her eyes flash at the sight of his tentative smile, that the one and only warning he got before Belle hauled off and slapped him with all her might.

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To Be Continued of course....

8/26/2021 Updated….another one whose beginning got a whole lot of rewriting. Everything else was left about the same, except for some minor tweaking!

-----Michelle

#once upon a time #ouat #captain beauty #CaptainBeauty #belle #killian x belle #captain hook #killian jones #fanfiction #fanfic #The Broken Hearted Comfort #season 2 cannon divergence #romance #smut

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voidcat · 4 years ago

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– Gekka Bijin

Gekka Bijin, also known as the Beauty Under the Moon or the Queen of the Night, is a species of cactus and one of the most cultivated species in the genus. It blooms rarely and only at night.

Oikawa finds himself at a party he couldn't care less for, searching for someone he cares about a little too much.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is mainly inspired by the song Bodys, I suggest listening to it as you read. | ao3

The new song that takes over the place makes the party seem like something out of a mediocre America coming-of -age movie. Oikawa looks around, what was he even doing here?

The beat starts to change and what he assumes to be the main melody begins to take over the room. The chances of finding the one person he was looking for were low, very low. And he is sure he had spent all his luck in life already. Agreeing to attend chibi-chan’s party wasn’t the brightest idea he has had but he had to start somewhere, preferably night time; so the darkness and the dim lights surrounding him could hide his face in case his mask happens to slip. That’s not what I meant to say at all. I mean- I’m sick of meaning, I just want to hold you.

You and me both; he cannot help but think, sparing a glance at the unfamiliar faces and the clashing bodies around him. The whole place stinks of sweat, alcohol and a pinch of tobacco. He scrunch his nose at that. Is the chorus yet? No, it’s just the building of the verse…

“What type of idiot even comes up with such lame lyrics anyway? I don’t even want to think who listens to them...” he’s complaining to himself, again.

“Well I’d bet my money on that girl by the stereo who seems to be having too much fun.” Oikawa didn’t even realize he was complaining out loud until he heard the familiar voice reply to him. He looks up to the direction of the said girl. “Is she... holding an empty bottle of vodka as a mic?” He tilts his head as he tries to make sense of the scene before him, trying his best to ignore the owner of the voice deliberately.

“Holding onto the bottle, would be a more proper expression I think.” This time he looks back at the voice.

His time in California has done wonders on him, that’s for sure. His, now tanner, skin compliments his deep olive green eyes as always, his hair slightly ruffled and he can spot a little bit of a blush on his face. Could be from the alcohol, he assumes, if Iwai was drinking.

Everything around him is in a blur, his eyes do not see anything that’s not him.

“Long time no see Iwa-chan!” he says at last, one of his signature smiles decorating his face. “What brings you to chibi-chan’s party?” Iwa frowns at that, must’ve realized the smile is fake. “Dragged in by Mattsun and Makki the moment I said I was going to spend the night by myself.” Mattsun and Makki. It has been a while he last talked to them properly, and he hasn’t been messaging with Iwaizumi like he once did either, so that must say something. The distance between them put its toll on their life-long friendship. Reading, more like trying, his messages of “shittykawa” in his voice can never compare to hearing the awful nickname, even if it’s followed by a hit.

Interrupted from his train of thoughts, he watches Iwa’s gaze go down. “Nice tshirt.” Right, he forgot he was wearing that tonight. The writing ‘zacco platypus’ on his chest feels heavier than ever.

Another trademark smile. “What can I say, Iwa-chan. I missed ya!” He says in his typical singsong tone. The unsettling silence takes over as they stare at one another, both seem to be deep in thought.

The truth is Iwaizumi wasn’t the one avoiding Oikawa, at least not as obviously. Ever since high school ended and their lives got separated by an ocean, Oikawa was left with too much time to overthink the smallest things.

He realizes he hasn’t said anything nor made a gesture to show he heard Iwa yet. “So you’re here by yourself? No one new in your life?” He isn’t sure if he wants to hear his friend’s reply to the latter.

“Tried once or twice, didn’t stick long. I won’t ask you back the same question though, you’ve spammed me with all the gruesome details just as they happened.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Sure, talking excitedly about a date gone nice or the little things that attracted him further to his dates were something he let his friend know.

But he never told him how he tried dating men; how he was always searching for calloused hands, sharp green eyes, messy spiky hair; how he wished he could hear the mean nicknames instead of cute names of endearment or the silly pet names. How often he thought about what the two of them could have been, how he never acted towards this dream, the fear of ruining their friendship nagging his brain.

The drunk girl starts to sing along loudly: “Well, so what? We're young!” something he can’t put a finger on changes in her tone. “We’re thin, most of us.

We're alive-“ A pause. “Most of us.” She ends it in a rather sad tone.

“Well, they seem to be having fun.” Iwai spares a glance at the dancing figures around them, attempting to keep the conversation alive. “I’d be having fun too, if I consumed booze recklessly and lost myself completely I guess.” Oikawa says with a roll of eyes.

Then his body sets into motion before he can comprehend what his hands are doing. He puts his hands on Iwa’s shoulders, truly a sight out of a cheesy teen romcom. He wants to scoff at his cliché-ness.

He can see the shock painted on Iwaizumi’s face.

“Those are you got some nice shoulders I'd like to put my hands around them I'd like to put my hands around them”

“Oi baka-kawa, what are you doing?”

“Following the instructions, and trying to have fun, assumed acting a bit more like them could help achieve that.” He points at the people around them with his head. They start to swing in an awkward manner, not exactly matching the song’s pace or rhythm. Iwa’s hands find his waist.

“So what’s with the sudden change of your messages lately?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Iwa-chan-“ Oikawa tries to brush it off, breaking eye contact but it seems Iwa won’t let go of this any time soon.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, I’m not in the mood for your games or blatant acting so you better explain to me what’s been bothering you.” His demeanor is stern but he can hear the concern in his voice.

He wants to turn his gaze away, avoid the piercing looks Iwa is sending his way, but if he’s really going to do it tonight, there’s a chance this may be the last time he will get to see his face like this, up-close.

Meeting Iwa’s stare wasn’t the sanest thing to do for Oikawa because he cannot find it in himself to blink. He wishes for time to stop and to stay in this exact moment forever. With his hands on his shoulders, Iwa’s hands on his waist, gazing into each other’s eyes and getting lost in them; everything besides them is a mixture of noise and colors. No longer resisting the demanding look in Iwa’s eyes, Oikawa opens his mouth at last:

“I was afraid I’d say something wrong, ruin something between us or cause a mess I couldn’t fix because there’d be this entire ocean between the two of us.”

He stops to take a deep breathe. “I guess I was afraid I’d do something stupid… (like this)” The last bit remains unsaid but it’s heavy in the air and they both know it. He speaks in a whisper and leans in for a kiss.

All he can feel is how warm and soft being this close to Iwaizumi feels. It feels different than any other kiss he has ever had and he knows nothing will be the same after it. He’s too focused on his worrying, he doesn’t even realize whether Iwa responds back to his kiss or not. And so he pulls back to examine his face and get a good look at him in this shitty lightning one last time.

“Oi, if the idea of the two of us is stupid to you, maybe you shouldn’t have gone in for a kiss.”

At that moment Oikawa is at a loss of words. He stands with his jaw hanging open, trying to process his words. He was expecting a shove, maybe an angry yell, a hit in the head or Iwaizumi to leave immediately without sparing him a glance. But this?.. This was not on that list, not even an option at all.

Having read him through his various moods all his life, Iwa seems to know what is exactly going in Oikawa’s head. So he pulls the idiot back to him, his right hand on his jaw, for a second kiss.

No fireworks, no explosions; all those writers and painters must have been wrong all this time.

Because the kiss he shares with the person he loves more than anything else in this world feels like something he long searched for and finally found. And in a sense, it is exactly that.

Kissing Iwa in that very moment comes natural to him just like breathing, eating, doing a jump serve or setting for him. It feels like coming home to rest after a long day, to eat milk bread after craving it for so long, to watch the sun set after a well spent day.

Kissing Iwaizumi Hajime feels like home.

He is sure somewhere far away a queen of the night blooms just as they kiss.

They pull away slowly. Every action they take together, they’ve grown accustomed to it, in perfect sync and tonight is no exception. They can see each other smiling faintly. One of his genuine ones, Iwaizumi knows. Oikawa rests his forehead on Iwa’s and they stand like that for a little longer.

I got so fucking romantic, I apologize.

A new song starts to play through the speakers.

“Seriously, what’s up with those lyrics?” Oikawa starts shaking his head, still smiling.

His whiny statement goes ignored by Iwaizumi: “What do you say, we go out and… catch up?”

He’s met with intense and light brown eyes suddenly directing their attention back to him, there must be supernovas hidden inside them, he cannot help but think, a lump forming in his throat.

“And we can… put a name on what we are, if you’d like that, I mean-“ He is cut off by a quick peck on the lips and next thing he knows, he’s being dragged away from the party by the only person he has always loved and cared for with his whole heart.

As the obnoxious music they left behind fades into the background, Oikawa makes a mental note to send that girl a bottle of her favorite drink; marching towards nowhere in particular, hand in hand with the one he loves.

19 notes · View notes

arcane-merlin · 5 years ago

Text

I Don’t Want To Say Goodbye || Originalshipping (Part 1)

Fandom: Pokemon

Ship: Red x Green/Blue

Contains spoilers for Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Explorers of Sky/Time/Darkness!

Synopsis: Red is transformed into a Pikachu and is sent to the Pokemon world a few months after becoming Pokemon Champion. Washed up on a beach, he meets Blue, an Eevee who bears a striking resemblance to his best friend and rival in the human world. On their last journey together they must use everything they've learned as explorers to defeat Primal Dialga and prevent the planet's paralysis. And come to terms with their feelings for each other. That too.

(might be a two part or three part who knows lol? Also cross-posted on Fanfic.net, AO3, and Wattpad!)

"We did it Red. We're almost at the top of Temporal Tower. I can feel it." The Eevee turned around to meet the Pikachu's eyes. Composed and determined. Ready for the inevitable.

'Let's save the world from the planet's paralysis, Blue.' Red thinks. 'Together.'

Blue became silent, understanding his partner as if he were a psychic type Pokémon. Blue reaches a paw at the blue water drop necklace he's wearing. He's always kept this rare necklace with him ever since he got it as a baby. His name derives from said necklace. We will definitely win! And... and once we do... I'm gonna evolve into a Vaporeon!

Nodding at each other, the two partners, who put their whole trust in one another, swearing to save the world, and prepared for this very moment, continued forward.

They enter the next room, spotting a grey stone staircase. Guarding the stairs is a sleeping Porygon-Z. Red signals Blue to stay at the front of the damp hallway. As quiet as a Rattata, Red approaches the sleeping enemy. Stopping nearby the front of the vulnerable Pokémon, he waves at Blue.

A pincer attack, Red? Good thinking!

Blue is careful in his steps. All of the Pokémon they've encountered so far are tough, and they want to save as much energy as they can in the event that they are forced to fight... Dialga. Even thinking about Dialga is sending shivers down my spine...

All the more reason to hurry...!

Blue shakes his head, sending the thought of facing the fierce legendary Pokémon to the back of his mind. Red puts three small fingers up. One by one, the fingers go down. Once the last finger went down, Red and Blue simultaneously attacked. The Porygon-Z screeches in agony, and retaliates with discharge, paralyzing Blue. The status effected Eevee trembles, unable to resist and that angers Red. Red attacks using thunderbolt. Turning it's attention to the Pikachu, Porygon-Z discharges once again. Red is having none of that though and dodges. Going for a Quick Attack this time, Red manages to knock Porygon-Z to the solid floor.

Blue's paralysis fades soon after and he sighs, relieved. Man... when will we get a break?

"Red." Blue flashes Red with a tender grin, "Thank you."

'...?'

"If I hadn't found you at the beach... I wouldn't have come close to achieving my dream of joining Wiggilytuff's Guild. We would've never saved Azurill from Drowzee, see the beauty of Fog Bound Lake, uncover the mystery of my Relic, escaped the future... Without you, how could I grow into the Blue everyone's come to know? Before... I was just known as Eevee, grandson of a famous Pokémon Explorer. Achieving something for myself... that was out of the question. Always being number two. Always being compared. I guess you were the missing puzzle piece, huh. I can't... I can't imagine a world without a human-turned-Pikachu named Red. I can't imagine my world without you...

'Blue...'

"If we're together, there isn't anything in the world that stands a chance against us! Let's save our friends, our world, our everything! Then, when it's all over... we have to watch the Krabby on the beach together, known as the heroes who saved the whole world."

'...!'

Red lovingly pats Blue's head, smiling. Blue affectionately stares at the gesture.

'I love you, Blue.'

Red tilts his signature red cap down, suddenly overrun with embarrassment. Many memories were made wearing this hat when he lived in the human world. He got his first Pokémon, a Pikachu. It was fate that he transformed into one himself. Red, wearing the hat, defeated the gym leaders, Team Rocket, the Elite Four....

...and the Champion, his long time best friend and rival, Blue Oak. An Eevee was also Blue's first Pokemon and here Red is, talking to an Eevee sharing the same name. Another coincidence in this mysterious world where Pokemon could talk.

When Blue (the Eevee) found Red collapsed on the beach, he was firmly clutching the soaked hat. This hat being his only memory of the human world. Home.

Today is no different. He would make a new memory alongside his dependable partner, Blue. Stopping the planet's paralysis. It's true that Red has already created countless memories wearing the hat in the Pokemon world, but this one is more important than the rest.

And would be his last.

|||

Temporal Pinnacle

The hard ground beneath them had cracks. Four stone columns surround them, forming a square shape. Facing diagonally, the tops of two columns had broken off, another sign that Temporal Tower was going to collapse at any given moment. Red and Blue observe the area, hearts rapidly pounding. Roaring winds blew against their fur. Red wraps his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. Shaking his fur, Blue takes a few deep breaths.

"Is this... Is this the top of Temporal Tower...?" A rhetorical question. Blue was in disbelief. Yet, deep down both Pokemon knew that they had reached their destination.

An intense beam of light accompanied by a loud sound startles Blue out of his disbelief. Red goes on four legs, cautiously awaiting for an enemy. Sparks emit from his red cheeks.

"Waah!" Blue rushes to Red's side, "Lightning!"

Reluctantly raising his head to the sky, Blue's beady eyes widened. Wha-

"Look at the sky, Red!" Blue points up.

Like a whirlpool, red clouds swirl in the sky. In the center is a black hole, where lightning bolts rapidly shot out. The enormous clouds covered the entire sky. Neither Pokemon could see out of it.

"It's incredible!" Blue shouts, awed. "Red clouds are swirling!"

Deafening sounds of more sparks of lightning caused Red and Blue to cover their ears. The ground trembled underneath. A ticking clock then resounded, a reminder of their restricted time limit.

"Waah! It happened again!"

The tremors never lasted for long, but it would probably become much worse later on. Blue finds himself touching his necklace again. Regaining some confidence back, he squeezes it before letting go. Red rises from his defensive stance and glances at Blue.

Blue acknowledges the impending fate of Temporal Tower, "This tower feels like it's going to shake apart any moment! Let's hustle, Red!"

Red nods.

Red and Blue continue forward and it isn't long until they near a small set of stairs. Is that... an altar?

"Look! Over there!"

Something similar to veins glowed on a navy blue edifice. The structure was made up of five dividers that were cupsidated at the tip. In the middle, a stone with a luminous pattern and five indentations situated on a divider larger than the others. Serrated points emerged from the bigger divider.

"...What could this be? It has a strange, mystical feel..." Green tilts his head.

'...................................'

'There's a big circular pattern... Inside are indentations that look like they've been gouged out...' Red contemplates, squinting his eyes. 'What is this...?'

Red connects the dots. '...! Wait a second! The gouged-out indentations... There are five in all. Five slots... That means...!'

Red then lightly taps Blue and promptly shares the conclusion he arrived at.

"What?" Blue questions, "Five slots?"

The meaning of the question became obvious.

"Th-that's it! If I set the five Time Gears into these slots... We might prevent time from stopping!" Strong-willed feelings wash over Blue. Red and I are definitely... gonna save our world! Nothing can stop us now!

"Ok!" Blue gazes Red. An unanswered question lingers in the air. Red's eyes told Blue the answer. "I'll do it!"

But before either of them could approach the edifice, a powerful lightning bolt knocks them backwards. Landing on the hard floor knocked the wind out of them. As they shortly recover from that surprise attack, they notice that the sky above became dark and with it came a ill-boding presence. Red covered Blue's mouth to quiet his scream.

"GRRRRRRRRR..." A roaring gruff growl resounded, "SO! IT'S YOU! YOU SEEK THE DESTRUCTION OF TEMPORAL TOWER!"

The voice's declaration alarmed both Red and Blue.

"What?! You're wrong!" Blue desperately shouts, attempting to convince whoever the voice belonged to. "We're here to prevent time from stopping!"

Blue's words seemed to aggravate the voice even more. Their voice bellowed, "TIME...STOPPING...TIME... GRRR-OOOOOO!"

Primal Dialga appeared out of thin air, its massive dragon like body towered over Red and Blue. Steel enveloped some parts of its navy blue body. Designs covering its body were colored orange. The diamond in its chest altered from blue to a fiery red, representing the Pokemon's anger and loss of self-control. At the sight of Primal Dialga, Red is back in defensive mode. He goes on all fours, hackles raised.

"D-Dialga!" Blue yelps. Dialga's response was a fierce cry.

"YOU!" boomed Dialga. "YOU DARE BRING RUIN TO THE TOWER!"

"No! That's wrong!" Blue attempts to reason with Dialga. "We want to prevent the tower from collapsing..."

Unconvinced, Dialga growls, "SILENCE!"

'Trying to talk with Dialga is impossible...! He won't listen to reason!' Red thinks.

"FOR ALL THOSE WHO THREATEN TEMPORAL TOWER... I WILL SHOW NO MERCY!" threatens the enormous dragon, letting out another menacing roar.

Blue seemed to get the message and turns to face Red, "It's no use, Red! He's not listening to us at all!"

'Dialga is losing control because time is breaking down! But... This isn't like Primal Dialga in the future... He's not yet fully consumed by the power of darkness! There's still a chance that Dialga can be brought back to reason! There's still hope!'

"H-here he comes, Red!" Blue warns as the Legendary Pokemon obstreperously roars once more.

Harnessing all the remaining strength within him, Red uses discharge. Blue follows up by throwing a Gravelerock, but Dialga dodges. Red proceeds to attack with Thunderbolt and somehow misses. Blue bites down on Dialga's leg. However, Dialga doesn't flinch from the attack and unleashes Roar of Time. Red saw that move coming from a mile away and covered his ears. His partner on the other hand, took massive damage and fell to the ground.

Red scours the exploration bag for a Reviver Seed and a Violent Seed. He places the reviver seed in Blue's mouth and uses his tiny hand to make Blue chew on it. Stumbling to his feet, Blue regains consciousness. Red consumes the Violent Seed to strengthen himself and Blue goes on the offensive by using Bite once more. Dialga is unable to attack for the next few moments after using Roar of Time, so Blue consumes a Violent Seed himself while Red attacks with Thunderbolt.

Blue proceeds to continue using Bite and Red Thunderwaves to paralyze Dialga. However, Dialga shortly recovers from the paralysis and attacks Red using Metal Claw. Before Dialga is able to finish Red off, Blue hurls his Oran Berry at Red. Munching on the berry, Red moves away from the impending attack. The draft formed from Dialga's missed swipe knocks his hat to the ground.

Going for another Roar of Time, both Red and Blue took major damage. It wasn't enough to make either of them faint, however, they only had two more Reviver seeds and six Oran Berries left. If they didn't finish this battle soon... the three of them and everyone else would perish as the tower collapses and the world fell into ruin. Both Red and Blue ate an Oran Berry before using the same attacks as before. Able to attack again, Dialga hurls an AncientPower at Red. He's able to withstand the move and risks the rest of his energy by attacking with Discharge.

The corrupted Legendary Pokemon bends down on one knee, glaring at the two Pokemon who bested him. He still wants to fight... but has forgotten the reason why. A painful roar, a roar full of want, is the last action Dialga takes before thudding to the ground. Red and Blue pause, afraid that Dialga would suddenly attack again when they least expect it. A few seconds pass, but Dialga did not make a move.

"We... did it..." Blue lets out a breath he didn't realize he's been holding. "Ok, Red! It's time! While Dialga is still down, I'll go put in the Time Gears."

As Blue takes a couple steps forward, another tremor shakes the floor, stronger then the previous ones. Lightning is swiftly spewing from the red clouds.

"Th-this... This tremor is the worst it's been!"

' T-Temporal Tower is... Temporal Tower must be nearing total collapse...' Red wonders if they've already run out of time. 'If... If that were to happen... The destruction will accelerate... until the planet is fully paralyzed!'

Strong bolts of lightning strike at the stone ground, creating bigger cracks. Red picks up his hat from the ground and has a vice-grip on it, as the wind was getting difficult to withstand. Moving past Dialga's body, they fight against the shaking floor and high speed winds to climb the stairs.

"Urk! The floor's heaving..." Red struggles to hear Blue's voice. "It's hard to put the Time Gears into place!"

One by one, Blue and Red insert the Time Gears into the slots. They have difficulty placing the last two on the top, but manage to do it after Red uses Blue as a stepping stool. Red and Blue lock tired eyes.

Hope is evident in Blue's voice. "Done! They're all set!"

The gears emit a white light... and disappeared along with the indentations leaving a sky blue light on the grey stone. The color of the squiggly designs on the blue altar changed to a bright greenish color. Unable to bear the shaking any longer, Blue falls and rolls down the stairs. Red lands on his back. He stumbles to his feet and rushes toward Blue.

"Wh-why?! I put the Time Gears where they're supposed to go!" the hope in Blue's voice begins to fade with each word, "Why won't these tremors stop?!"

'Blue...'

Blue has a horrified expression on his face and tears form at the corners of his eyes. "It can't be... Was I too late...? Will Temporal Tower continue to collapse...?" Blue wipes the falling fresh tears, confused and afraid. "Is it too late... to stop the planet's paralysis..?"

Blue shamefully faces Red, a shadow of his former self. What can he say? Sorry for failing you? Sorry for failing the entire Pokemon world? Red's heart breaks at the sight of Blue's tearful expression. He desires to tell him that they would be fine and go home to Treasure Town, forever known as heros. In this situation, with the tremors and lightning becoming powerful enough to tear down the tower, Red would be lying. Still, he'd give anything to see Blue smiling again, even lying to himself. His Mom, Professor Oak, and Blue... Do they miss him? It must've been at least a few months since his disappearance. They're all probably worried sick.

'I regret taking his Champion title. I should have told him that I love him... but my words just won't come out! I continue to hurt him... What is wrong with me...? He was always there for me. Was I ever there for him? Why did our friendship end the way it did?

Is it because... of me?'

Powerful thunder impacts the top, destroying more of the floor and the other two columns. Both Pokémon drop to the ground. Using the last of his energy, Blue turns to face Red, knowing it would be the last time he'd get the chance to. A droopy grin appeared on his features, his manner of accepting the fate they journeyed so far to avert. Too many emotions begin to overwhelm Red. Despite the inner turmoil, he returns Blue's accepting smile. They did all they could. Yet, it wasn't enough.

Red's vision fades to black. His last thought was about the boy who he somehow fell in love with, Blue Oak.

|||

"Hello...? Can you hear me?" someone called.

It's blurry. The only thing that Red can make out is a boy with caramel hair and emerald eyes. Red blinks multiple times. His eyes slowly adjust to the brightness of the sun. The entrance of a town and three buildings. Two of which were houses, the other was a lab. Underneath, the hard stone of Temporal Tower was no more. Instead, Red's hands met with the touch of wet grass as he lifted himself up.

'Pallet Town...?'

A painful headache seizes him, causing his body to convulse. He can't seem to recall what happened. At that moment, it dawned on him. He must've died, but his memories are jumbled up. How else would he be standing in front of Blue Oak? Collecting himself, Red nodded in response to Blue's question.

Blue sighed in relief, playfully punching Red in the arm. "I can't believe you were hiding here, Red. I've been trying to find you! My sister and I have a surprise for you!"

Blue extends a hand to Red. Red doesn't think twice before grabbing onto him. He's realized that he missed this, begin away from the human world for Arceus knows how long. And now he's been gifted a second chance. Memories of adolescence are resurfacing.

They enter the Oak house, everything in place as Red remembered last time he visited. Much to Red's chagrin, Blue let go of his hand. A box wrapped in Pikachu printed wrapping paper sat on top of the table. Immediately, Red rushed over, casting an asking glance back at Blue. Blue pat Red's dark hair and chuckled.

Fresh tears gather in Red's eyes. He already knew what Blue's gift was. His signature red hat. Only in this reiteration, the hat was not yet tattered by the memories Red would make as a trainer and an actual Pokémon.

'Oh...' Red warmly stares at the thoughtful gift. 'I guess I must have fallen in love with him at this exact moment. Besides my mom, no one else really gave me anything. Of course, I didn't mind. As I child, I didn't talk much. I did what I was told and never expected something in return. Blue and I only knew each other for a year, since Mom and I moved to Pallet Town after my father's death. All the gifts that Mom gave me... And yet, the hat that Blue got for me became my most valued possession.'

"Well? Do you like it?" Blue questions, a faint blush on his cheeks. Red briskly nods, beaming. He puts it on.

"Red." Blue's voice suddenly quiets to a serious tone. "How long are you gonna keep him waiting?"

'Huh?'

"It's not over yet." he sadly smiles, retaking Red's hand into his. "Wake up. The other Blue... he needs you right now."

'No...!' Red lifts his head. Rivulets of tears fall. 'I don't want to... not like this! Not when I can see you again!'

Blue seems to have read Red's thoughts. Bumping their foreheads together, he whispers, "No, Red. This... is a dream. I'm not the real Blue Oak... but you and him will certainly cross paths once this is all over. Don't keep me waiting, okay?"

'...'

'Okay. I promise.'

|||

'...Ugh...' Red feels like his head is splitting. 'Urk... Th-this is...'

His body is unusually heavy as he pushes himself off the floor. Destruction due to the tremors and thunder surround him and he wonders how the Tower hasn't collapsed by now. Large cracks cut into the ground. Gone were the tops of the four columns, two of which were lying on the ground. His eyes come across his collapsed partner.

The Eevee groaned as Red stumbled toward him. He lightly nuzzled Blue's warm fur. Without warning, Blue's eyes opened and he was on his legs. Red breathed out, appeased that Blue appeared to be fine.

"Hey... Red..." Blue's gaze wandered around, searching. Confusion appears on his face. "Wh-where...?"

Out of nowhere, someone spoke. "THIS IS... TEMPORAL TOWER."

The voice belonged to Dialga, now back to his original form. Various light blue stripes instead of orange on blue skin. His chestplate holds a diamond in the middle. Three spines shone on the back of his neck, as well as a metallic head piece that seemed like a crown. A fin-like structure rests near his tail. Cautiously, Red and Blue make their way towards the gigantic Legendary Pokemon.

"Dialga!" Blue's voice shook. They couldn't possibly battle again. Red and Blue barely won the last fight.

Dialga heard the panic in Blue's voice. "YOU HAVE NO CAUSE FOR ALARM. I HAVE REGAINED MY REASON."

"What?" taken aback, Blue tilts his head.

Dialga calmly explains the situation, "TEMPORAL TOWER HAS TAKEN HEAVY DAMAGE... BUT IT HAS SURVIVED." he turns from the two, "NOW, OBSERVE."

The diamond shimmered. Soon after, a moving image played in both Red and Blue's mind. From the forest floor, bushes and grass dance in gentle winds. Above, the sky is blue with several white clouds. Red supposes that Dialga is using telepathy to show them. Another scene played. Damp leaves on the branch of a tree. Drops of water trickled from the leaves.

All of this was happening at a familiar place, Treeshroud Forest. Yet, when Red and Blue were there, time had stopped. There was no sign of movement, of life. Now it seems as if... time has been restored. Life can now continue. Not only in Treeshroud Forest, but in all the places where time has stopped.

Treasure Town came into frame. Bidoof was in front of Duskull Bank, two treasure boxes full of Pokemon currency as always. Teddiursa and Ursaring are together, chatting as always. Corphish stood on the stones in the center of the dirt path. Swellow and Wurmple were also prattling on and on nearby Electivire. Xatu peacefully stood in front of his shop, waiting for a Pokemon to bring him a treasure chest so he could open it. Kangaskhan's storage was open. Politoed, Ledyba, and Togepi seemed to be buying something from the Kecleon brothers. By the looks of it, everyone is doing well. It's like any other beautiful day in Treasure Town.

Rocks float in the filled with yellow clouds. Light shines from above. The Hidden Land. At the highest point, a damaged and not far from collapsing tower rests.

"TEMPORAL TOWER SURVIVED THE CRISIS. TIME HAS RETURNED TO NORMAL HERE..." Dialga clarifies, "THUS, TIME HAS RESUMED IN PLACES WHERE IT HAD STOPPED. BECAUSE YOU STOPPED THE RUIN OF TEMPORAL TOWER... THE PLANET'S PARALYSIS HAS BEEN PREVENTED. THE WORLD'S PEACE... HAS BEEN RESTORED."

Blue can hardly believe he's hearing this, "R-really?! We did it, Red! We finally did it! We brought peace to the world!" he celebrates. Blue's expression was that of content.

"ALLOW ME TO THANK YOU." Dialga spoke. "I THANK YOU FOR REACHING THE HIDDEN LAND... YOU HAD THE COURAGE TO STAND UP TO ME, EVEN AS I RAGED OUT OF CONTROL... AND YOU PREVENTED THE RUIN OF TEMPORAL TOWER IN THE NICK OF TIME. THANK YOU. ALL THIS, I OWE TO YOU."

Delighted surprise is evident in Blue's voice, "D-Dialga..."

Dialga continues, "BUT ALL IS NOT YET AS IT SHOULD BE... IT WILL TAKE TIME. I MUST SEE TO THE REPAIR OF TEMPORAL TOWER." his gaze moves towards outside the tower, lost in thought. "THE HIDDEN LAND, TOO, HAS BEEN RAVAGED... BUT THE RAINBOW STONESHIP SHOULD STILL BE OPERABLE... AND LAPRAS SHOULD BE AWAITING YOUR RETURN."

Blue nods. "Ok!" he forgot for a while there that he and Red had to journey home, but that was fine. He couldn't wait to see everyone again and continue their lives at the guild. "Let's go home, Red! Back to Treasure Town!"

Leading the way, Blue runs to the entrance of the roof. Red begins to follow, but then realizes that he's missing his hat. Rescuing it from the floor, he dusts it off before descending the stairs.

Sorrow slowly eats at him as they make their way down Temporal Tower and towards the Rainbow Stoneship.

This is it. His final memory in this world alongside Blue.

|||

Blue proudly strides in front of Red on the floating stone path, eager to reach home. Power is in each of the tiny steps he takes. Oppositely, Red finds it becoming more and more difficult to move his body. His breathing is becoming ragged. Perhaps he should tell Blue...

Now noticing something off about Red, Blue speaks up. "What's the matter, Red? Let's hurry." Blue cringed at his tone. He sounded annoyed, even though he really wasn't.

Red feebly nods, though Blue doesn't seem to notice. They continue their slow pace with Red weakening as seconds pass.

'My body... feels heavy... What's wrong... Why am I struggling to move...? It's like... my legs are weighed down...' Red clutches his head, thoughts swimming in his mind, trying to think of a reason. 'Maybe... now that we've changed the future... My own disappearance... is drawing near...'

A small tremor and Blue's yell jolts Red from his thoughts back to reality.

"It's settled down..." Blue sighs, shaking his head to focus. "I guess things are still settling back to normal... Let's go, Red."

Blue strode onward. Suddenly, incandescent light encompasses Red, prompting him to stop in his tracks.

'This... This light...' Red frowns, already knowing what was happening to him. 'The time has finally arrived... My time with Blue... ends now.'

"Hey, Red!"

Once Blue shortly realized that Red wasn't behind him, he came rushing back. Red's body being surrounded by light was an uneasy sight. Worry overcomes him and he stops in front of Red.

"What's wrong with you?!" fear rises in Blue's voice.

"...Sorry, Blue." Blue's eyes widen hearing Red's quiet voice. His mouth is agape. "I kept this to myself for a long time..."

Red rarely talks! T-this must be serious... Is he hurt..? Why would he-

"It looks like... I have to say goodbye..."

Blue froze. He couldn't believe it! Red... saying goodbye? Leaving him? That's our of the question. After everything they've been though... how could he?

"Huh?! Goodbye?!" he comes closer to Red, right in front of his yellow face. Blue tries to wrap his head around this. It's making him become emotional. "What are you saying?!"

As if everything was perfectly normal, Red was composed as he explained. "Dusknoir told me. If we changed the future... all the Pokémon from the future would disappear. There would be no reason for a human to be here either. That's why... I'm destined to disappear too. I'm... going back to the human world."

"Huh?" Blue was growing frustrated. He blinked away the angry tears beginning to form. "What? Wh-why? I don't understand!"

Red had been preparing for this moment and speaks the words he wanted to say to Blue Temporal Tower. "Thank you for everything. I'm going to disappear from here now... But, Blue... I'll never forget you."

Blue wishes that time would stop again. There's too many things he needs to say to Red, but he doesn't have enough time to. "W-wait a second... I managed to make it all this way because you were with me, Red." he's unable to keep his voice from breaking and the tears from blurring his vision, "Don't you understand...? You made me strong, Red... If you go, Red... I don't know... what I would..."

Red sets his hat on Blue's head. The Eevee's ears droop and the notion is too much to handle. A broken sob escapes his mouth.

"No, Blue. You have to be strong on your own. You have to live!" Red embraces his crying partner. "You have to go home... Tell everyone about what happened here. So that... nothing like this happens ever again."

"Red..." Blue sniffles. Red puts their foreheads together as he light becomes brighter. Blue's little heart is breaking. "Don't, Red! Don't... Don't go..."

Red pulls his head away from Blue. "Thank you for everything, Blue. I'm glad we got to train together at the guild... I'm glad we got to go on adventures together..." Red smiles sadly. "I'm glad... I got to know you, Blue."

"Wait... Red..."

"I'm sorry." Apologizes aren't enough to stop this, but Blue deserves it after Red kept this huge secret from him. "I'm so lucky that you were my friend..."

Blue cries, "I feel the same, Red! To me, Red, you're..." trying to control his breathing, he takes a deep breath. "More important than anything..."

"Yes... I feel the same way." Red closes his eyes, "Blue... Even after I disappear from here... I will never forget you..."

Before Blue is able to say anything else, he watches helplessly as his partner disappears with the light.

"...Red... Red!" Blue's voice cries out in vain. His partner, his one true friend... gone. Never to return. "...Red!!"

Collapsing to the ground, Blue heavily sobbed. He couldn't hold his heartbreak any longer and poured out his grief in a flood of uncontrollable tears.

|||

His cheeks streaked with dry tear tracks and he mumbled incoherent words as he pressed on despite the deep hole in his heart. Each step he took was slow and heavy. The thought of making it home was now lost in his emotions.

"...I have to live... I have to get home alive..." Blue lets out a shaky breath. "...Get home... and tell everyone about what happened. Because it's... Red's... It's Red's... last wish..."

Even at such a slow pace, it isn't long before Blue arrives at the Rainbow Stoneship, the pattern etched onto the stone is phosphorescent. Blue's chin quivered. Chewing on his lower lip, his eyes once again welled up with tears.

"Th-there's..." A tear tickles his cheek. "There's the Rainbow Stoneship..."

He has to force himself to move. So close, yet so far. Before he's able to get on, Blue trips and lies on his face for a couple of moments. With the tiny amount of strength he has left, he picks himself off the ground. It's as if time has stopped again as he trudges onto the stone. He faces the direction of Temporal Tower, in all it's glory.

Finally, the Rainbow Stoneship departs.

And he's slowly distancing himself from the tower. Distancing himself from Red.

Forever.

"Temporal Tower is...getting farther and farther away..."

Silence. Painful silence. Lonely silence.

"And Red..." Blue swiped at his eyes but fresh tears came anyway. "I'm getting farther away from Red..."

Oh, Red... I never got to say that I love you.

#pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon fanfiction #gay #pokemon red #pokemon green #red x green #red x blue #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon fandom

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alisterthatchel · 4 years ago

Text

Counterpoint (Knifepoint Remastered)

Requal walked slowly into the ruins out of the forest, her fingers continuously rolling the daggers in her hand. A nervous tick she was trying to suppress, but it was either that or playing with the kunais hidden in her cloaks sleeves, and she’d rather keep them hidden till she knew what might be in the ruins. She looked around, following her brains map of how to get to the heart of the limestone structure. Requal realized as she retraced her steps that her grey cloak and her raven hair hindered her camouflage in the dimly lit halls. She noted that at least her complexion would aid in that, especially with how the chambers and hallways were dimly lit by iridescent fungi growing off some of the stone & broken wooden furniture, left to rot through time. She’d claimed the title of trespasser a number of times when she got bored of her redundant studies, and it had been a wealth of knowledge. When she found that vault door…and then the stranger appearing in the courtyard. He shown her and the other students that the teachers were withholding spells and ways to help her achieve her goals faster. But he mentioned the vaults had knowledge lost to time, and that they might store cures for her older brother. She started to tear up at the idea of finding a solution for his legs being annihilated by that mad sorcerer. She knew the vaults were dangerous, having read about them in the forbidden archives, but she wasn’t going to be held back anymore by her professors; she was going to learn everything she needed, even if she had to encounter a little danger.

She slowly walked in the shadows, listening closely to the wind for any signs of any other visitors to the vault, but all she could hear were the whispers coming from the Traeka sword. As she slowly drew further into the ruins, she felt the sword slowly start to tremble, and the barely-audible whispers had grown into incomprehensible speech, a language lost to the ages, and it made Requal uneasy. “Come on, Requal,” she said, trying to keep herself calm. “The faster you get this done, the faster you can get out of here.”

She found herself deeper and deeper into the ruins, the path seeming longer and more ominous than when she stumbled upon it by accident. The sword seemed to have a pull of its own, almost urging her to go faster, and directing the way. Requal stopped as she reached the base of the last stairs she had to descend, the stolen sword glowing purple and her eyes widening. The walls had been plain when she had first scoured the level, but as she came in sight of the floor, the walls manifested symbols and hieroglyphics on the walls. As Requal hesitantly took a single step onto the floor, raw mana stalagmites burst through the floor and erected themselves sporadically around the floor. She knew this wasn’t a good sign, but she couldn’t go back now.

The nervousness reached a crescendo when she neared the vault chamber. As she saw the vault door down a long, narrow pathway, the words from the sword were almost screaming in her ear. Requal staggered and stumbled, the hilts of her blades pressed against her skull as she tried to hold her head in pain. She stumbled into the vault chamber, and, all at once, the voices ceased. Requal shook her head and looked around, and as she regained her sight, she noticed a man standing in front of the vault, facing it, and she hoped unaware of her presence. She crouched and started slowly backing into what shadows were available.

“This is what you came here for, Requal. Come and unlock the knowledge within.”

Requal stopped dead in her tracks. She looked at the man worriedly, scared at the fact she knew the figures voice. The man from the courtyard. He turned around and started walking towards her. Requal leaped back against the wall, brandishing her daggers in a threatening fashion. It didn’t last long, though, as the voices from the sword started to invade her mind again, screaming in a threatening tone. As she slid down the wall curled into a fetal position, the man had reached her. He knelt down and cocked his head, indifferently staring at Requal as she trembled on the floor, and through her tears of pain she looked worriedly back. His face slowly changed from the muted curiosity to a wide grin. He reached down and gently stroked her cheek as his grin slowly started to appear malicious, contrary to the sympathetic tone he took. “Oh, Requal, don’t shy away from the voices of the vaults…let the voices become your herald like they have for me.” He slowly stroked her arm as he whispered in her ear. “They will give you all the truth of the worlds.” He grinned wider as he discovered the sword on her back. “Good, you brought the key.”

A glimmer of thread slung around the man’s neck as Reya, attempting, and failing, to sound as calm she could, addressed him. “Gabriel, is it? I will only tell you once to leave our student alone.”

Gabriel had lost his grin when he had felt the thread wrap around his neck, but at hearing her voice, Gabriel’s grin came back, bigger than ever. “Reya Felltithe, I remember seeing you training on the school grounds. Honestly, I didn’t expect for Thatchel to send you. I presumed he would’ve chosen a somewhat competent fighter at least!”

Gabriel’s existence flickered, reappearing directly behind Reya, now standing. Before Reya could turn around, Gabriel’s rapier was drawn and arcing towards her face. Reya’s reflexes started a defensive spell, but the blade never fell. It stopped centimeters from her skin as the Mage’s Armor formed over her. She watched Gabriel, frozen in place as a red line slowly formed around his neck, Alister appearing behind with a shimmering line pulled taught behind the assailant’s head. Gabriel’s head slowly slid from his shoulders, purple mist seeping from the wound as blood slowly dripped onto the cobblestone.

The mist slowly ate away at the body as he slowly vanished, and Gabriel’s voice echoed across the room. “You should remember that it would take a lot more to kill me than a mere decapitation...”. The mist appeared again behind Alister, converging and forming Gabriel’s body. The assailant drew his rapier and made a quick slash that would have severed Alister’s spine, had it connected. Instead it slashed thin air as Alister’s body blinked out and reappeared behind Gabriel, blade drawn and plunging into Gabriel’s side. Gabriel gasped in more surprise than pain, despite both being present.

Blood started dripping from Gabriel’s mouth as Alister spoke calmly. “And you should know better than to threaten anyone in my care.”

Gabriel smiled a reminiscent smile as he coughed up a bit of blood, walking down memory lane as he wistfully said, “It’s about time you finally took my advice, and learned some of my tricks.” As his sentence finished, his body was consumed by the most again, leaving only the blood on the floor and the mist, which quickly moved to a few feet away before forming back into the man. Gabriel’s breathing was taxed and he appeared drained of color a little more.

“Still haven’t found a way around the blood loss yet, I see,” Alister commented as he moved between Gabriel’s new position and the others. He glanced behind him, seeing Reya had cast a barrier spell from salt she carried and her spell book. Requal sat behind Reya in the corner, but fascinated and terrified of what was going on. Alister addressed Gabriel before returning his attention to him. “Does make me wonder what tricks you have been working in however many years it’s been since you were presumed dead...”

Gabriel smiled a sickening grin. “Now now, our little class reunion has only just begun, so I can’t give away all my secrets.” He started swaying side to side, and as he did, mist began to form around him, dense enough to lightly obscure vision. When he felt it dense enough, he sprinted at Alister, drawing his rapier. “But I can at least give one!” As he got within range, he thrust at Alister, who swing his sword to deflect. The steel didn’t connect, and Alister, with his free hand, threw his arm bag and grabbed the back of Gabriel’s shirt collar out of thin air. As Alister turned towards Gabriel, though, the material in his hands began to crumble, as it appeared Gabriel, his clothes and his sword molted out of a shell of themselves, and Gabriel lunged at the barrier. Alister threw aside the molt in shock, and rushed at Gabriel as Reya screamed out in pain. Gabriel had stabbed through the barrier and through Reya’s stomach, and as Alister approached, he vanished into mist. The rest of the barrier shattered as Alister reached them, and he quickly swept Reya into his arms as she was doubled over in pain. He looked back into the room, and saw Gabriel with the Sword of Traeka, stolen in the assault. Using it as a walking stick to steady his stride and tapping his rapier on his shoulder, he walked towards the gate unsteadily.

Alister glared down Gabriel, seething and torn by contrary impulses. He had a burning desire to tear Gabriel apart here and now, but knew that saving Reya, who had started bleeding profusely from her wound, was his utmost priority.

“You best get your delicate little school nurse back to the school, where she has half a chance of getting patched up,” Gabriel chided as he reached the vault door and looked back at him. “Wouldn’t want to let her die from whatever I laced my blade with, would you?” He looked back at the vault, picked the sword up, slid it into a hole on the vault door, and twist the hilt. Centuries old cogs and wheels began to turn in the door, dark aura steaming out of orifices and cracks in the face. The door slowly began to open.

She was desperately trying to use what healing spells she could muster. The adrenaline mixed with the excruciating pain made it impossible task to do, barely able to knit the skin at all. “S-so much blood…It h-hurt…s-so much.”

Alister knew there was a strong chance he wasn’t joking as Gabriel had taunted him, but when he looked back down at Reya, her veins had started to turn, and glow, orange. He knew exactly what it was, Gabriel’s old signature toxin. He looked at Requal, who had begun cluching her head as the voices that she had heard before merged into an incomprehensible wailing and she before he could pull her up, she passed out due to pain and stress. Alister knew he couldn’t stay. “This isn’t over, old friend.”

“Oh no, you and I definitely aren’t done, but this battle is.” A massive set of humanoid hands from inside the vault grabbed the door and started to pull the door open with great strain. “So unless you want to face the penalty round, I’d suggest you get moving.”

Alister had already started working as Gabriel had verbally prodded him. Alister had reached into a pouch at his waist and poured out a sand & salt combination onto the floor. His clothes started to glow blue, and as the light shown brighter, the sand and salt shifted into a circle around Alister’s feet and Requal’s body. It formed in patterns under the student’s unconscious body and the headmaster’s feet, forming the teleport spell. Alister had kept his eyes on the vault door throughout this process, watching as it opened, and a massive humanoid figure stepped through the gate. As the being came closer to Gabriel, Alister saw the being in clearer light. It stood roughly 15 feet tall, had curled horns like that of a goat, hooves instead of feet, and dark brown fur covering it’s entire body. The only articles the beast wore were straps and harnesses, all of which had weapons attached. From what Alister could see there were three broadswords at his waist, two hand axes that hung on straps at his upper thighs, and a massive executioner’s ax in his left hand.

The voice that came out of the minotaur was more bestial and vicious than their normal tones. “You who seeks knowledge, have you a sacrifice, or will you be the sacrifice?”

Gabriel grinned and pointed to Alister and the others. The minotaur turned his head to look at Alister, the unconscious Requal, and Reya, who had started succeeding at healing her wound despite the toxin taking ahold. The beast grinned himself, rotten, spiked teeth barely visible in the light. “The two females will be no challenge, but the male will be a worthy trophy.”

“Are you able to stand?” Alister asked Reya, not keeping his eyes off of the beast.

“I think so.”

“Get Requal into the middle of the circle and place your palm in the center.”

“O-okay.”

Alister gently let Reya down and stepped forward out of the circle, eyeing down the beast. Reya managed to pull Requal into the circle more and placed her hand in the center. The circle started to glow that same blue light as before. As that happened, the minotaur shifted his grip on the hilt to a lower point, grabbed one of the swords at his side, and flung both with incredible speed, ax after the sword. Alister grabbed the sword by the blade and used it to slam the ax from underneath, deflecting it up and burying it into the ceiling. The bestial warrior was taken aback momentarily, but then gave a smile from ear to ear.

“I knew you were a mage, but a battle mage...I haven’t fought one of you in centuries before our incarceration.”

Alister looked at the blade as a pulsing darkness radiated from the edges, a demon’s weapon. He recited an ancient chant quickly, breathed on the blade in the middle, and slammed it over his raised knee. It snapped in half as if a twig, and the black aura started to dissipate. He noticed that the blades had cut his palms despite not having physically touched his skin.

The minotaur, who had been amused, now became upset when one of his toys got broken. His horns began to glow red in etchings not previously visible, and he began taking a big breath. Alister held his hands on top and bottom, lining up the wounds on his palms so they faced each other. His eyes began to shimmer crimson, and his blood linked together, spanning the gap between the two palms. Strands began forming in sporadic directions between the palms, making a weave of blood. As the beast brought his head forward, the light went out in his horns, and as he opened his mouth, flames shot forth in a cone towards the group. Just as the flames got within feet of Alister, he thrust his hands forward. The flames appeared to fork at that point, with some of the flames started being absorbed into the blood weave. As the minotaur continued to breath flames, he saw what was happening and started to move closer, the cone focusing on Alister’s point as he got closer. As he did, the forking of the flames narrowed, and Alister’s clothing started to burn away. Despite the flames scorching his clothes and skin, Alister kept his stance, bracing himself against the pressure. As the caught parts of the fire passed into the weave, it condensed into a focal point at the center of the weave. The color changed from the blazing red to a brilliant white, shedding light and becoming brighter till it illuminated the entire room. As the beast finished torching the area, the blinding light began to fade, and smoke started to pile up more into the room. As the flame breath subsided it waited for the smoke to clear, trying to see what had become of the mage and his wards. As the smoke started to dispurse, a blinding white light flashed, and when his vision returned from momentary blindness, he found Alister, floating in front of the beast’s chest. The weave had disappeared and his hands were at his side. In his right hand, a tiny gleam hovered inches from his bleeding palm. He raised his right hand, the star rising parallel with it, and halted when it reached his chest height. The minotaur grabbed one of the hand axes at his side and swung down at Alister on impulse. Alister held up his other hand towards the descending arm and the blood from his hand erupted outward, forming a point and spiraled up. The blood pierced the descending forearm & solidified into a spike of pure carbon. This halted the beast’s actions long enough for him to rotate his hand ninety degrees around the star, and pushing gently. The star slowly moved forward, and phased into the warrior’s chest as it looked down in confusion and anger. It didn’t even notice Alister snapping the blood spike at the root, whispering something under his breath, and bracing himself for the brilliant flash of white light and the subsequent blast the erupted from its chest, blowing its rib cage out of its body. The chest cavity bashed into the bracing headmaster and sent him sprawling backwards, into the ritual circle a good twenty feet back.

Reya, who had watched in disbelief at the fight while the circle finished charging, pulled Alister close to her and saw how pale he had gotten. He winced as he held his side, having been hit with a shrapnel of bone, and had lost and used a good amount of blood from the fight. She looked up at the victim of Alister’s skill, and saw a wobbling body that hit the ground with a massive crash, shattering the stone underneath. The circle started to teleport them as clapping and laughter from a wall of the room drew her attention. The last thing her eyes saw was that of Gabriel leaning against the far wall, grinning from ear to ear, hands in entertained motion.

“Oh Thatchel, you never disappoint...”

Reya blinked, a rush of wind, and when her eyes opened, they were in the observatory.

Upon feeling the hardwood under him, Alister staggered to his feet like a deer learning how to walk. Reya tried to stop him, but the adrenaline and fear no longer could help her ignore the pain of the toxin, and she cried out as she could feel it expanding through her veins. Alister shuffled to a dusty cabinet and threw open one of the doors. It had numerous items coated in dust, but he rifled to the back and found a bottle that had an emerald green liquid in it.

“This better not have gone bad...”

He staggered back towards Reya, leaning against the bookshelves as he made his way. Reya had curled into a fetal position as her muscles started to tighten involuntarily, barely able to breathe. Alister fell down next to her, pulled her head into his lap as he sat up, and poured half the vial of antitoxin into her mouth. He massaged her throat to assist the concoction to go down. After it got past her throat she gasped, reclaiming her ability to breathe, and after half a minute more she started regaining mobility. Alister smiled before falling back onto the floor, groaning in pain. Reya got up and looked Alister over. He had burns covering the outsides of his arms and hands, bruises all over from the blast, wounds on his hands and side, and blood loss had made him scarily pale. She set to work immediately, stitching the skin together with her magic. As she did, she noticed his body itself was slowly healing as well, assisting in closing the wounds. Alister, despite immeasurable pain, stayed still and forced his body to remain unmoving. Except for his wincing, shifting his head, and occasional wordless gasps of pain, she could have been fooled into believing she was playing mortician. As she healed, she recycled the entirety of what had transpired in the last hour or so in her head. A man hell-bent on opening the vault, an ancient beast that could breathe fire like a dragon, and the headmaster she now worked under using blood magic, something that she’d seen many a person put to death for using. She was very nervous about all of it, and her hand began to tremble as she had moved onto the burns, using an ointment in her pouch and sprinkling a catalyst into it.

“I don’t blame you for your hesitance.”

Reya snapped out of her thought and looked over at Alister. He was looking at her, and when she looked at him, he raised his hands to look at the palms.

“I do my best not to use such uncivilized and outlawed magic in front of others, but when facing down death you don’t have time to be selective with your retort...”

Alister dropped his hands and looked away. Reya didn’t know what to say, so she just continued to heal Alister. In addition to it being outlawed in most kingdoms and lands, healer communities looked down greatly looked down on those who use that type of sorcery, and was forbidden to use in the agency. After a time of deep contemplation, Reya broke the silence.

“I didn’t know blood magic could produce light.”

Alister’s attention had been drawn to Requal, who was still passed out, but unharmed and still breathing. “It can’t, but it can assist in augmentation of forces and energies if channeled with arcane power. It’s not a common practice, but mixing magical archetypes, if properly handled, can lead to surprising and sometimes beneficial results.”

It was true, Reya had known that most teachings around magic had students working in certain categories of spell casting or ritual casting, not often allowing variable studies. Alister’s school had been one of the first she had come across that teaches students numerous different topics and genres of magic. A thought came to her mind, and before she could stop it... “Do you teach the students blood magic?”

Alister gave a short and soft chuckle as he turned his head back up towards the ceiling. “Less than one hand full of students have been taught. Ulessa, Zazelle, and Hydek. Super sweet kids despite being cursed with a talent for a dark power.” He closed his eyes and gave a deep breath. “Control and focus was always the teachings, and to keep their power hidden, they get ostracized or hunted.”

Reya could tell from how he talked about the matter that he was being truthful. “Students or Alumni?”

“All alumni. Zazelle is in a major city and works at her own bakery with her wife. Ulessa is an explorer to far off regions, but calls The Desert City home. Hydek use to live in a nearby village, but when raiders came from the mountains near the village, they started slaughtering the people. Hydek killed them all, but died in the process. Sadly his family and the other villagers were branded as cultists and interrogated by the local mage chapters and priests of Goldath. I did my best to help in what ways I could, but fighting public opinion is a losing battle...”

Reya had finished healing Alister halfway through his story, and had just sat next to him, watching him recall the events around Hydek’s death. She once again was at a loss for words, though this time she felt like she needed to say something. But what? What do you say to a teacher, mentor, and caretaker when one of their wards grows up, grows under their tutelage, and leaves their care just to get killed by events of the world?

Alister looked over at Reya, who was simply looking down at her lap, hands balled into fists, pressed against her legs. “There are no true words for it, in either experience or response to such news.” Reya was looking at him now. “Hence why I do everything in my power to prevent that from happening again.”

All Reya could do was nod before helping Alister to his feet. He was a little uneasy at first, but slowly started to gain his footing.

“I need to start preparing, though…”

Reya looked at him. “You shouldn’t go after Gabriel until you’ve had time to recover. Surely he’ll be busy looting the vault and making another scheme, if he is as he appears.”

Alister shook his head. “He said ‘…our incarceration’. That ancient warrior wasn’t alone in the vault.”

Reya’s eyes widened. “You can’t fight them alone.”

Alister nodded. “You’re right. I need to call the professors together.” He walked over and pulled the still unconscious Requal into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. “This is not a fight I’ll handle alone. But first, let’s get this one looked at.” He gestured, and the three of them left the observatory.

After Alister, Reya and Requal vanished in the circle, Gabriel’s humor started to settle, his hands slowly coming to a halt together in the final clap. He then pushed himself off the wall and sauntered his way over to the beast, who was struggling to breathe, blood pouring out of the cavity. Gabriel leaned over the hulking body, looking into the beast’s eyes as he slowly started to fade. The beast weakly breathed out one sentence before he passed.

“My brother will give you what you seek, if you give him the name of the battle mage...”

After the life left the beast’s eyes, Gabriel straightened back up and looked at the vault door. “I may, or I may not. All depends on what he has to offer.” He started his stroll through the passageway. “Not going to let him take away all my fun.”

Next installment of the story, hope you all enjoy.

#writing #thatchel story #story #ocs

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akria23 · 7 years ago

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The one with the foundation:

I’ve heard Sterek referred to as a crackship more time than I can remember. Every time however, I find myself laughing more than side eyeing, and that’s not just because this is a term usually used by the same fools that think we have enough power to ruin their ship but not enough intelligence to alter the reality of our own…

No, you’ll often hear many stereks say that Sterek is the only ship within Teen Wolf that’s makes much sense romantically. That’s not just them bragging on our fabulous ship. That’s them speaking on the natural authenticity that makes up the duo. The potential that was squandered and tossed aside. The fact that reality that unlike some Sterek isn’t built on the pretense of only exterior planes, created to steer the story. But, the fact that they’re compatible because of internal builds that genuinely comes from own individual personality. That their development points are naturally highlighted. There obstacles already would’ve been set. Haters call Sterek a crackship when it’s one of the few relationships in the show that kinda writes itself.

Thats in part the reason we’ve got the most fics....

Romance in story form is essentially the viewing of two characters falling for the true essence of one another. They have the ability to not only see each other for who they truly are under their self-created mask, but also show the audience the potential they both individually cater to and through their relationship the growth both can substantially achieve. A character’s ‘perfect match’ is one of logical reasoning. Motivation, like it does with everything else, pushes the romantic subplot. These characters are thought to be destined because they ‘fit’ so well, because every portion of them from back-story to personality connects and expand their story.

Stiles is the only character that appropriately fits Derek. Love/trust was Derek’s downfall. Love/trust would have been the development he had to grow through (internal growth). It was his wall to climb so to speak. It created his mask, it’s his internal struggle. So why Stiles…(The main ones for now) He’s human, he’s young, and he’s the opposite of Derek’s stoic. What is the recurring theme between these two characters? That’s right…if you said trust, give yo self a gold star! Basically he connects to every element of Derek’s back-story…and internal struggle. Stiles could have been (should’ve been) the walking dynamite. Their relationship would have placed Derek in the position of remaking choices on some previously bad decisions. Falling for Stiles creates the process of having to face the past and therefore having a chance to…oh yes…grow from it. When I say old issues I mean the offset of Kate and Paige – meaning – love/loss, fear, trust, fault, intimacy, fragility, betrayal.

Understand this, Derek had 2 levels of love…he should’ve had 3 to bring it full circle. Love was taken from him via Kate and then he also took it from himself via Paige, it would’ve been earned back via Stiles. Fear was relearned via Kate and consumed him via Paige, it would’ve been overcame via Stiles. Betrayal was the only truth via Kate and the lesson via Paige,the growth point via Stiles. Fault was set via Kate and began via Paige, and would’ve been reassessed via Stiles. Intimacy was a lie via Kate and naïve via Paige, reborn/real via Stiles. Fragility was himself via Kate and life via Paige, it becomes nonexistent via Stiles. Trust was betrayed via Kate and never given via Paige, it then would’ve been a meeting ground via Stiles.

The verses of Love:

Paige’s love was young and fresh before he had known that a touch can be a betrayal. That kisses and unspoken connections can hide true intentions. It was his tragic end with this young girl that started his belief of falling short, of finding fault in himself. Fear wasn’t something Paige gave into, she liked him wholeheartedly, knowing his kept secret. Derek however, gave into the fear of her being a lesser species, of her not being able to accept who and what he was, and it led him to taking choice out of her hands. He assumed her mortality to be a fragility. To be human is to be weaker, to be lesser in just about every aspect. Easily manipulated, overpowered, and killed. Derek even didn’t have true understanding of humans and therefore also lack understanding and true respect for them as creatures with their own capability.

The things he found so lacking in humans as far as his last relationship goes, Kate taught him otherwise. He learned of the destruction and chaos they’re capable of and his own weakness. Kate loved making him realize how small he was. She defined powerlessness for him. Every corner that had strength for him, she erased. She was proof that humans could be dangerous and overpowering. She was a master at using anything in her arsenal, from weapons to her body and simple emotion, as a way of getting close, as a way of getting what she wanted. It goes without saying that the things Kate did to Derek left a huge impression on him and how he reacts and interacts with others – def humans. When we meet him, he has no interest in such creatures, much less any respect for them. It’s not to say he hated humans, but his experiences hadn’t shed light to those being good bonds to create (those that weren’t already there).

And then there’s Stiles. He’s human, but this does not stop him from being intelligent, a protector, and necessary on the battlefield. He is usually one of the first volunteering to go when a life is in danger. He has in fact fought many creatures with more physical strength than he. He does not however feel a need to make these creatures feel powerless. By no means desires to truly over power them. He is not threatened by allowing Derek to have his own natural abilities. Has many times called for those abilities and admired them. Has been the thing that has saved Derek’s own life and protected that of his younger sister. Fragility was the line between human and wolf and Kate failed to toe it during their relationship and so did Derek during his relationship with Paige. His relationship with Stiles could have furthered what he was already doing through Stiles - learning to respect humans and their natural abilities. . We get a Derek that learns to not only accepts Stiles touch in his most vulnerable moments but also drags him in himself (i.e the dream).

Being a young human helps Stiles complete Derek’s cycle because of the mirror action that places Derek either on the other side of his narrative or places him back at the hinge of old decisions. This is the narratives time to test him and see how he comes out the other side. The story could have explored many plots that connected to Derek’s past. For example Stiles mortality. There have been moments in the show that’s hinted at Stiles desiring power of some kind and that was never explored in a way that really tested him and his desires. The mortality issue being a theme in their relationship would have mirrored his issue with Paige and put him on the edge of that decision making again. Same for the age and the decision it could’ve been brought to the table.

But, these topics (love/loss, fear, trust, and fault) are also things Stiles and Derek share similarities in and could have really stimulated pure understanding of someone else. Stiles mother/Derek’s Parent’s plus sister – Losing those they care about – Nogitsune/Kate – Falling short and finding the consequences to be upon their shoulders. Derek could’ve really helped Stiles through a lot of stuff he went through, except the show just always glazed over everything.

Part 2 Sneak:

The Dynamic:

Fear, trust, love. I find most people never look further than the surface when it comes to the first two. Often people take the glare and threat scenes and define that as the dynamic, forgetting the other important moments that highlight oppositions. Stiles is often the one to seek Derek or place himself within Derek’s vicinity. No shortage of smart mouthing off, nicknaming, or standing up for himself, or even for Derek. It’s the same with mistrust, I think that was something that went out the window quicker than Stiles would have liked. He wanted to mistrust Derek, more than he actually mistrusts Derek. In fact, a few times we see Stiles requesting Derek’s trust (i.e “Yeah you need to trust us…BOTH of us!” or “Can’t you just trust me?” scenes). This aspect reveals more of their own inner need. Knowing that he’s one of the few characters that knows of Derek’s past and seeks to find out more, it makes sense that he desires this man’s trust on some level. Trust takes value over terms like love for these two people because they’re the types that would find it difficult to speak of such things. Trust has been a squabble for Stiles since early in the show. Not so much about him trusting others but getting other to believe in him (Lydia, his father, his mother through her sickness [give or that that confusing narrative], and then later Scott). Whereas for Derek it’s been people being untrustworthy (his uncle, Kate, himself, Jennifer, Scott). This is why the ‘dream’ moment is so powerful. Because in this moment the audience gets to view how valuable Stiles is in Derek’s mind/perspective. Derek’s mind seeks out Stiles to buffer the trauma, because he trusts him, there’s no fragility in Stiles what so ever. He is the rock that calms Derek and gets him to accept what needs accepting without subterfuge. It makes sense that his minds goes there because most often when he’s waking from some kind of danger it’s to the face of Stiles. Stiles has been there for him physically, emotionally, and/or mentally since they’ve met, despite all, despite any. That wasn’t the first time Derek had gone to Stiles. It is however, the first time we get so many layers together for them in a scene – fear, trust, fragility(lack of), and intimacy.

Note: I’m telling a lie...the second part will probably be long cause this one got nothing in it lol. But I think it the last for my Teen Wolf Articles so - shrugs.

Teen Wolf Articles

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Derek Hale

Sterek: Foundation

Sterek: BWRWW: Derek

Upcoming: Sterek BWRWW: Stiles

#stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #teen wolf articles #tw #one more to go #stiles x derek #eternalsterek #credit on video #not mine

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movieswithkevin27 · 8 years ago

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The Lost City of Z

NOTE: SPOILERS THROUGHOUT

A journey to find a lost city is always about more than finding the city itself. Conquistadors set out to “discover” the Americas and explore the new world for three reasons, “God, gold, and glory”. Facing horrific conditions in the jungle and squaring off with the naturally confused and hesitant natives of the land, the men - for all of their faults - embarked on a journey that changed the course of human history. Yet, being willing to embark on such a journey naturally calls for a man that is willing to get away. One that is willing to leave his homeland and take on such an arduous with the odds being against him ever returning home again. Either disease or conflicts with the natives would prove to be the end for him and others in his party and, as such, is always a journey to find more than a city or explore a civilization. It is a calling for people that are missing something and want to find something in those jungles that is more than a city of gold. What they hope to find is unknown to even them and is one that will undoubtedly forever change their life.

Percy Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam) was one such man. Initially sent to Bolivia on behalf of the Royal Geographical Society and British Army in order to end a border dispute between Bolivia and Brazil over where the border actually is between the two, Fawcett quickly becomes obsessed with the Amazonian jungle. In his initial mission to find the source of a river known to the British that holds the key to where the border lies, he stumbles across pottery and a carving in a tree. Around him is nothing but jungle, except for these small trinkets. Upon returning to Britain, he immediately calls for his return to find a lost city he is calling “Zed”. Despite the fact that his wife Nina (Sienna Miller) is pregnant with their second child and his son Jack (soon to be Tom Holland) does not remember him, Percy believes he must go back to the jungle. With the backing of a few investors, he does set out to find this lost city, returning with Corporal Henry Costin (Robert Pattinson), Corporal Arthur Manley), and explorer James Murray (Angus Macfayden). Upon there, illness and a loss of rations prevent them from completing the journey. Finally, years later after spending time in France for World War I, he returns with son Jack to complete his journey for this lost city.

However, in spite of its apparent set-up as a film about a man embarking on a life’s journey to find a city and throwing away his family in the process, The Lost City of Z is mostly a character study. Percy Fawcett is a man who has made Major in the British Army at the beginning of the film, but without a medal. He has received some distinctions in the past, but is the only man to have the rank of Major without a medal. Compounded by the fact that his father was a drunk with an infamous reputation that ruined the Fawcett name, Percy first accepts the surveying mission to Bolivia in an effort to restore his name. Calls from Britain for him to return immediately due to adverse conditions on his first trip are met with stubbornness from Percy, who insists on completing the mission given to them nonetheless. Though he loves his wife Nina and loves his children, he is on a search to find himself in this Amazonian jungle. He feels destiny calling him with even a psychic he visits in the trenches of World War I telling him that his soul will never rest until he finds what he is looking for in the jungle. To Percy, this means the lost city. If he just finds the city, he will be okay and will stop hearing the voice in his head to run. However, what he is running to is an illusion. There has been a possible city found there in this century, but it is not what was calling Fawcett. His call what one of self-identity. Who is he? He has no rank. His father was a drunk. All he has is this city and it is the only accomplishment he could ever dream of having that will define his destiny and leave a mark on the world. If he could find this city, he would be remembered and revered for his bravery. If he fails, he is seen as a crazy person who fell for the old “El Dorado” mirage that explorers and conquistadors had fallen prey to throughout time.

Percy Fawcett is no crazy man. He may be embarking on a journey similar to Klaus Kinski’s in Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God, but he is not losing his mind. He is of sound mind and body. In battle, he ably leads his men. In the jungle, he ably leads his men. At home, he may hit his son Jack, but is otherwise a sound father figure. In the jungle, he finds that the so-called “savages” are more advanced than previously thought and reports his findings to the British. He is met with derision from his countrymen who cannot fathom these “savages” being anything less than cannibals with a blood lust for white men. At home, his children and wife have no idea what he is looking for in the jungle and are frustrated by him constantly leaving them for years at a time. Men such as James Murray believe him to be a fraud who has no proof of this so-called city of Zed. Yet, there is proof. It is out there and Percy knows where to find it, he just has to be able to get there. The years he has spent in the jungle has only made him more determined, not insane. This is his chance. His opportunity to change everything for the Fawcett name and himself. Finding this city would mean he was a success and better than his father who sought to find himself in the bottom of a bottle. Not finding the city is not an option and he has decided that his destiny is to find the city, above all other challenges.

His rejection at home by his peers and his cabin fever at home is only exacerbated by his experiences with the natives. Accepted as one of their own and welcomed into various communities during his time traveling the river in Bolivia, he has finally found a place that accepts him. They do not care about who his father was or what he is doing in the jungle. It is a place separate from a world that has largely rejected him and that had forced him to seek a purpose in this jungle. While his encounters do not quell the fire in his soul for more and to finally achieve something worthy of being rewarded for, they do convince him that the Amazonian jungle is the place for him. Though it may be dangerous for his health and not all of the natives are welcoming, it is the only place that does not make him want to run away from it and find something new to do. No matter where he is in Europe or what he is doing, his soul keeps calling out for him to be in the Bolivian jungle. Once he is there, he must find Zed and stop at nothing to accomplish this goal.

Unfortunately, Fawcett’s issues with his own father and his own self-identity has rubbed off on his family. Feeling abandoned by him and wondering why they must embark on these journeys of sacrifice alongside him, his eldest son Jack accompanies him on his third and final journey to the Amazon. Similarly seeking to find the lost city, Jack’s journey is certainly partially inspired by a desire to see more of his father, but there is more to why he goes to the jungle as well. Initially convinced to go as a way of changing the Fawcett name, Percy has only marginally improved the way the family is viewed. He has improved upon his father to be sure, but has certainly met with his share of detractors due to his obsession with a mythical city of gold. For Jack, he sees it as a way to allow his father to complete the mission. Though the film skips over the time in between the war and his final mission, it can certainly be assumed that Percy was a little disconnected. He left his heart in the jungle and is dying to find it again. Jack is willing to go to see him find this missing piece of himself in the jungle and see his life’s journey to its conclusion. Partially, it would bring joy to his father, but also convince Jack that his father’s efforts were not in vein. For Jack, this journey also personally means that he will be able to restore the Fawcett name. He has seen the newspapers that ridicule and mock his father at every turn. He has seen the name be publically shamed by everybody that matters in Britain and so he seeks out the Americans, who do not know the Fawcett name, to fund the latest adventure. Akin to his father trying to restore the family name, Jack’s journey is one where he hopes that he and his father can together restore the family’s pride and worth in the community.

The journey undertaken by the Fawcett’s is a fruitless one, however, due to the expectations of Percy and, later on, Jack. Both of them are convinced they will find this city hidden by time. Everything they encounter hints at it with hidden statues. An opera house that Percy went to in his first journey is now nothing but sticks and rubble. The jungle consumes all and stops at nothing to reclaim what Europeans is stealing from it whenever they arrive. It only stands to reason that a city could be similarly consumed by the trees and brush that surround its every edge. Yet, they never actually find this city. It may be out there, but they never set their eyes on any such lost city. Instead, they are met with constant hurdles and lose sight of a simpler goal. In a flashback scene, we see Nina read Percy a letter that she had written in the event of dying during the birth of Jack. In it, she asks him to encourage their son to dream and to always remember that seeing beauty is its own reward. Thinking back on this letter, it is clear that Percy has misunderstood its message. Daring to dream is not dragging your entire family into a fruitless and hopeless journey to find a city that may or may not be there. He is just running away to try and restore his father’s name, while simultaneously neglecting his own family. Along the way, he overlooks everything. No matter how many tribes extend a warm welcome to him and no matter how much he talks about how advanced the natives are with brilliantly designed farming methods, Percy is never satisfied. He soaks in the beauty of those moments, but it is not rewarding to him. He needs to find the city. At home, simply being with his family is not enough. He needs to be busy restoring their name. There is no reward for him in the simple moments. There is always a beacon calling him elsewhere and one that he will never be able to actually reach. In the meantime, he has forgotten to live and to actually experience things outside of the jungle. It, like it consumes everything within it, has consumed him and left him a broken old man. The only portion of Nina’s letter that really speaks to Percy is how a man’s ambition should always exceed his grasp. His guiding light in taking on this ambitious venture, it is clear that it should only be undertaken with the other two pieces. On its own, it only opens him up to losing him in his ambition and forgetting that which he already has around him.

A classically-styled film with hints of Herzog’s aforementioned Aguirre, the Wrath of God, as well as the film directly inspired by that one, Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, The Lost City of Z shows a man consumed by the jungle. Yet, as previously mentioned, he is not insane. He is just a man who sees the jungle has his only option. The only way he can leave a mark and change history. Without it, he is a failure and cannot rest until the city is actually found. With scenes set on a river with land on either side akin to the films that influenced it, The Lost City of Z’s style screams of being from the 1970s, even if its ambitions often feel similar to the epics of the 1950s and 1960s. Attempting to depict 20-or-so years of this man’s life, director James Gray quickly flips through time and gives highlights from each time period that all play a role in building his character. From his quiet English home to the jungles of the Amazon to the trenches in France, the film wears many hats and attempts a variety of things. Yet, no matter how grand its scale or how far-reaching its sweep is, the film remains an intimate character study of a man that never was able to accomplish his main goal in life: find a city in the forest.

With exquisite cinematography, the film’s old school appeal translates to its imagery with somewhat washed out scenes set in England with stuffy period clothing and roudy Brits boasting about their superiority to the rest of the world. In the jungle, cool blues and greens surround everything before a final goodbye to the jungle that sees fire all around and smoke billowing from the top of the trees. This color combination is a feast to behold throughout, especially when Gray introduces candlelight to the equation. As with all great epic journeys, The Lost City of Z presents incredible staging, lighting, and framing of shots with each frame firing on all cylinders.

However, no matter how striking its imagery is and how ambitious its scope, Gray’s film often gets out of his reach. At times, the way in which it skips through time feels like a highlight reel. Its slow pace and Gray’s willingness to not cut too quickly allows this issue to be somewhat mitigated as each moment is given its due, but there is simply too much going on here. In particular, the war sequence is simply bloat and its only thematic contribution is the introduction of the belief that Percy’s soul will never be quiet until he finds what he is looking for in the jungle. At the end of the film, the final tribe they encounter state that they will put Percy’s soul to rest. Tying these two together is nice and highlights how detailed and nuanced the script by Gray is, but the war sequence hardly contributes much otherwise. It goes on a bit longer than needed and shows unnecessary battle scenes that could have been short-handed as simply temporarily blinding Percy and reuniting him with his son Jack. While well shot as always and representing the ambition undertaken by Gray in making this picture, it is an unnecessary diversion from the film’s thematic considerations in both Bolivia and England and its only contribution is a brief sentence that could have been introduced elsewhere.

A somewhat haunting tale of a man consumed by a destiny that he believes awaits him in the Amazonian jungle, The Lost City of Z is not so much an adventure film about a man trying to find a city. Instead, it is a character study of Percy Fawcett, who is consumed by a desire to find what he believes to be a lost city in the jungles of Bolivia. Spending years of his life trying to find this city and missing the births and youth of all of his children as a result, Percy unwittingly takes them in the jungle with him. By leaving his heart on the road to El Dorado, he has condemned his wife and children to forever search the jungle for where he left it, wondering what made the man they called their father or husband leave them for this mess of heat, poisonous animals, and trees. However, they will never know. Instead, as the brilliant final shot of Nina walking into the jungle in a mirror shows, they are doomed to walk the paths of the jungle for the rest of their days as the seek the answers to why Percy felt the jungle held the keys to his destiny and that only its branches could reveal the lock.

#the lost city of z #2017 movies #2010s movies #james gray #film analysis #film reviews #charlie hunnam #robert pattinson #tom holland #sienna miller

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lotornomiko · 7 years ago

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The Shattered Dream Of Innocence Chapter Seven

Brand spanking new summary!

Adults can’t be trusted, Emma Swan knows this first hand. They lie and they hurt, and act with an evil that leads to all kind of ruin. They shatter dreams and destroy innocence, and more than not trusting them, Emma has never wanted to grow up to be just like them. Never once tempted, never once dreaming, she’s about to find out that becoming an adult is not just inevitable, it’s a fate that just might be worth dying for.

This unavoidable state, this end to her childhood? It comes in the form of a storm dark pirate named Captain Hook. Through her encounters with the pirate, Emma’s about to learn it all, the joys and the sorrows of being an adult, the heartbreak and elation of letting go. There’s a choice to be made here, a future that might just be worth reaching for, if her friends and her family don’t tear her apart. If HE doesn’t tear apart, the demon known as Peter Pan willing to go to just about ANY length to keep her….

As of 2/15/2018 currently going over it, to correct a few typos, and do some overhaul and rewriting, to hopefully get Arc Two finally started! A Hook Emma pairing….some triggers may apply…M rating that will get a little more explicit over time….

And for those curious, the old summary:

Old Summary: There are consequences to growing up. Emma Swan knows this well. And yet she finds herself tempted, and all because of a meeting that had been inevitable. A meeting with a certain pirate captain, the infamous Hook. Emmas about to find the joys and the sorrows of growing up, as well as learn just how far Peter Pan will go to keep her. Hook Emma pairing. AU

Her fingers traced over those carving, to the names engraved there. Wordlessly she lingered over the slashes over Hook's own name, but her questions never came. She didn't ask about it, or about the name Milah, and for that Hook should have been relieved. Because the girl had narrowly avoided ripping open a wound that had never truly healed, a wound that's bandage was frayed, Hook unable to leave it alone for good.

It was that wound of his heart being crushed, of his loss, that had brought Hook to Neverland. That had bid him to stay. Searching endlessly on the hopes of some key piece of information, or a weapon of some kind, that would allow him to slay his own demon. Rumplestiltskin gave life to that which haunted him, the torment and grief, and most of all the driving need for revenge. A revenge he had lingered on the cusp of achieving, endlessly waiting the last two hundred years for the Indian Shamaness words to come true, for that which Hook needed, to end up in his hand.

But it hadn't happened yet, Pan as miserly with the item as he was bloated on lost boys and whatever it was that let Neverland's demon grow more powerful by the day. Already near invincible, Pan only grew harder and harder to kill with the every child that he had consumed. And with every soul lost, Hook felt his chance of getting what he needed from Pan, slipping through his fingers. Leaving him to wonder if he would ever have it, ever even come close to knowing what that something was.

Obsessed as he was with the finding and having of the thing that the Indian Shameness had spoke of, it wasn't the reason behind Hook's disturbed feelings on this day. Revenge was nearly pushed from his mind, Hook more concerned with the girl, with what might have been done to her, what might still be done, but also with the memories she now stirred. Because young Emma Swan wasn't the first of the lost ones to be a guest on his ship, more boys then Hook cared to count having come to him, either in desperation, or in the case of one young Owen, out of sheer fascination.

Hook couldn't help but remember that bright eyed boy of ten, and how the Jolly Roger crew, had found him stowed away among goods they had bartered for from the Indians native to Neverland’s soil. Young Owen had been more excited than scared, Hook and his pirates tolerant, perhaps even amused by the boy's antics. He wasn't the first to stow away on a pirate's ship, and Hook knew how to deal with those who did. After all it was practically a tradition to force stowaways to be part of the crew, many of those on board the Jolly Roger having been introduced to piracy that way. Hook included!

And young Owen had been ecstatic to be made one of the crew, even if all he had really been was a cabin boy. Owen hadn't been able to differentiate between servant and pirate, and he had taken to his chores with an enthusiasm never before seen. Complaining little, learning slowly the pirates' way of life, Owen had seemed to thrive and no one had wondered at the damage they might be doing. The risks they were posing the boy, their behavior and crude talk affecting him.

Of course the pirates couldn't be completely sure they were at fault. It could have been Owen's long unfulfilled desire that was responsible for the changes that came to the boy. It might have even been a factor of both, Owen growing, until less than a week later, he was abruptly boy no more.

The boy had barely survived startling Mason, the tattooed pirate putting him to the sword. The lanky young man the boy had become, had been near unrecognizable except for his brightly colored eyes. And even then, Hook and his pirates hadn't been able to believe it, had barely begun to process what had happened, when a shadow had come looming overhead.

The first time that Hook actually saw Pan up close, was during the demon's most vicious behavior. Morphing into a creature more terrifying than the seemingly friendly boy he usually paraded as, Owen hadn't even lasted an hour as an adult. With a blood red smile, and things best left unidentified dripping off his claws, Pan had introduced himself, and thanked Hook for harboring his meal.

The violence that had been committed, had been savage, and an uncomfortable reminder of Hook's own past. He'd never get used to seeing someone's heart in Pan's hand, never be able to not flash back to the moment Milah's own had been crushed by Rumplestiltskin's fist. And every time, remembering his pain, Hook flew into a rage to fight the unstoppable demons of his past and present.

For all his anger, for all his skill with a sword, Hook couldn't come close to killing those monsters. Couldn't even hope to vanquish them through mortal means. None of his pirates could, though those that remained a part of the Jolly Roger's crew, never gave up trying. But every loss was painful, every boy just another Owen who had finally been triggered to grow up for whatever reason. There was a reason the children brought to Neverland were known as the lost ones, and it had nothing to do with the fact they had been spirited away from their homes and everything to do with the fact that nothing, that no one, could save them from Pan.

It was a lesson hard learned. A lesson that was repeated for far too many times, other boys running from Pan, coming to the pirates out of sheer desperation, or even by mere chance. Most times Hook seemed the lesser evil, the boys frightened and placing their hopes in the pirate's hand. He had failed them every time, saw them die with resentment in their eyes, their own features distorted in excruciating pain.

Most times Pan made quick work of his meal. But sometimes the newly grown boys escaped, surviving long enough to search for help. Being hunted at Pan's leisure, the demon not at all worried that his prey would escape. Hook didn't know how many had died since he had first come to Neverland. The lost boys' numbers changed too often, too many falling prey to Pan before they could so much as scream, let alone run. Always learning too late that they had placed their trust in a monster's hands.

But Pan wasn't the only monster out there. Sometimes the monsters were even closer. Sometimes the monsters were your own kind, your family, your guardians, your supposed friends. The people meant to protect you, who instead hurt you. Hook knew that Pan was the worst kind, but sometimes the cruelty of humans rivaled that of the demon's. Because Hook had seen things, had heard tales, had even fought on the behalf of those who could not defend themselves. Women and children both, Hook couldn't abhor violence and abuse of any kind done to them, was actually quick to fly into a rage and make the bulliying one a victim of his hook. Just like he wanted to do now, Hook wanting a throat before him he could strangle, a body he could sink his hook into. Because he had seen the look in young Emma's eyes, had heard the pain in her voice, as she had told him she could think of worse things than a beating being done to a child.

It sickened and infuriated him, the thought of this girl being subjected to the far too many possibilities of human abuse. To the disgustingly inventive way a person's cruelty could be. His mind wanted to go down dark paths, Hook forcing himself to stay out of the shadows, to not ruminate too long on just what could have been done that would have been worse than a beating to this girl. Because there was far too many things, and Hook didn't think he could kill enough people to calm down, or absolve himself of his own crimes against the girl. Because wasn't he in fact as guilty as Pan, for failing to protect Emma and her lost boy brothers, for not even wanting to try because it always ended with Hook's own heart breaking just a little more?

But disturbingly, his heart was already hurting, pained by the idea of the little blonde being eaten by Pan. Protesting the deception that Hook himself was committing, even as the pirate knew it was better for the girl to keep on believing in Pan's lies, if only to give her some peace of mind and maintain the illusion that she was finally somewhere safe. But believing he was doing the right thing, was harder then it first appeared, and sometimes Hook wondered if he'd ever be able to leave Neverland so long as Pan was free to steal and eat more children. And that was before Pan had started preying on girls!

Hook couldn't even imagine why Pan would have decided to try something new now. Had his tastes finally expanded, or had he finally gain enough tolerance to negate whatever his long maintained aversion to eating females had been? Hook couldn't figure it out, couldn't imagine that Emma was anything special to the demon. He kept coming back to the monster's feeding habits, almost convinced this was a sign that Pan had tired of boys.

Not knowing nearly enough to truly play Pan, Hook realized that Emma might not even be that good a bargaining chip to use as leverage to get what he wanted. But he would try all the same, and feel like a complete and utter bastard for hurting the girl. For being just another one to use and abuse her, because in handing her over to Pan, Hook would become just as rotten and ruthless as all the others that had hurt Emma, and children like her in the world.

Was it any wonder that Hook was in hell, tormented and disturbed by the thoughts that he was having. Thoughts he tried to distract himself from, thoughts he couldn't truly justify even with the knowledge that there was nothing he, that anyone could do. Pan would do as he like, and Emma and the other lost ones would die. And Hook would grow closer to losing his mind, tormented by guilt, by his helplessness, damned no matter what he did, be it stand and fight, or sit back and do nothing.

It was the worst position to be put in, the worst decisions to have to be made. Even once--if he left Neverland, Hook would never be able to forget the lost ones, haunted by Owen and Emma, and all the ones in between.

Better to be the unfeeling bastard, to not care about anyone, then to go through this pain again and again. But Hook didn't know how to stop, couldn't shut off his heart, no matter how broken it was. That broken heart made him stupid, told him to do things Hook should never even consider. Told him to forget his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, take a stand against Pan, rather than barter Emma away on the off chance the demon would finally give Hook what he so desperately needed. A need he wasn't always sure of, the madness of what went on in Neverland affecting Hook, making him doubt what his true path was, if revenge was even worth it.

And then Emma was noticeably flinching, Hook having slammed a book down too hard in response to his last thought. He realized the girl had been watching him, that try as she might to pretend a lack of interest, she had been quietly aware of Hook's every single move. His chaotic energy, his turmoil had agitated her in return, the girl on the edge of her seat as though preparing to flee at the first sign of trouble. Hook nearly laughed then, a bitter angry guffaw, because the girl SHOULD run. Should get as far away from him and Neverland as she could, and even that wouldn't be far enough, Pan able to fly just about anywhere.

Darkly wondering what thoughts made Pan happy, Hook kept his hand on the book, trying to compose himself, trying for a calm he was now incapable of feeling. He was a better actor than Hook would have given himself credit for, the pirate turning to the girl and feigning a smile.

"So..." He said out loud, and Emma fixed her green gaze on him. "How exactly did you expect a pirate to look?"

It was clearly the last thing she had been expecting him to say, Emma's uncertain look heightened by the rapid blink of her eyes.

"Well?" Hook asked, watching as Emma tried to shake off her unease.

"Pirates are supposed to be bigger." She finally said. "With missing teeth, and a smell as rotten as their wicked hearts." She fidgeted in place, Hook arching an eyebrow in mocking reply. "With evil coloring your eyes, and the blood of the many you've slaughtered dripping off your hook, it's said you're unable to differentiate between friend or foe, not even caring to try, your looks as ugly as your soul."

"Good God, is that what Pan tells you?" Hook asked, and the girl merely shrugged in response. "And here I was expecting you to spout nonsense about peg legs and parrots." Again she just shrugged, Hook drawing his eyebrows together with his frown.

"You're supposed to have killed many of my brothers..."

"Supposed to?" Hook sharply emphasized the word, and a pang of some feeling, guilt perhaps, struck straight through to his damaged heart. He wasn't the one to have killed any of the lost boys, but he hadn't been able to save them either.

"Cut them up, or forced them over the plank. Turn them into chum for the sharks of the bay." Emma told him, her expression so serious and so solemn. Her eyes stared questioningly at him, as though searching for the truth that might write itself on his face. Hook couldn't stop grimacing, while shaking his head no.

"If that is the kind of things Pan tells you, it’s no wonder that you are scared of me."

"I am not scared!" Emma immediately, empathetically denied. "I was just..." She nearly blushed, looking away. "Startled by you."

And yet they both knew the truth, Emma's inability to fly proof of the fear she had felt. The fear she might still have, Hook inwardly sighing, but not calling her out on it.

"Well you can see for yourself, my hook is dry." But as clean and polished as it was, blood had tarnished it and his hand more than once. "And I don't smell, or have any missing teeth. My eyes don't glow for evil, and while I can't claim my soul to be clean, I don't think it is ugly enough to destroy my looks."

Now she really did blush, the slightest tinge of pink on her cheeks as Emma quickly looked away from him. "Looks can be deceiving."

How well Hook knew, an image of Pan's true face flashing briefly to mind. "That they can be...." he murmured in agreement, to Emma's surprise. "Especially here in Neverland..."

"Not just Neverland..." She muttered, but did not elaborate, instead trying to shift the conversation to a new topic. "If Pan won't give you what you want...will...will you kill me?"

"No, it's not by my hook that you will come to harm."

"What of your crew?" Clever girl that she was, Emma wouldn't relax at his promises. "Will you order one of them to do it instead?"

"It's not my crew you have to fear." Hook snapped. "None of them would truly consider hurting a child...I'd kill THEM myself if they did."

Emma was frowning. "But you are supposed to be ruthless."

"I AM." Hook told her. "But I am not without mercy and compassion."

Her frown remained, and Hook could practically see her mind struggling with some concept. She'd still be thinking, when Smee entered through the open doorway, carrying a tray of the meal he had prepared. It was all sandwiches and finger foods, things you didn't need a fork or a knife for. Smee ever the worry wart, had seen to protecting his captain from the possible risk the girl posed, by eliminating the need for a meal's silverware.

Trying not to openly laugh at Smee's needless concern, Hook took a seat at the table. The girl was across from him, eyeing the sandwiches with a mix of suspicion and hunger.

"It's all right." Hook softly reassured her. "It's not poisoned."

"Not yet, you mean." Emma retorted. "You won't kill me until I am no longer of any use for you."

"The captain would never kill a child!" Smee snapped in outrage. "Not even a...."

"Smee!" A snap of his own, Hook interjecting before Smee could finish the insult. Smee glanced at him, but his expression was sullen, the man not appreciating the need to hold his tongue, especially when he found the girl to be so needlessly insulting.

"It's all right." Hook then said. "Pan has filled her head with stories of my blood thirsty nature."

"Pan would do something like that." grumbled Smee.

Emma was studying the sandwiches with such open yearning, that Hook wondered when was the last time she had eaten. "Go on." He urged her, and took a big bite out of his own sandwich. She watched him do it, and slowly, hesitantly, reached for one of her own.

"It's good!" She exclaimed, and Smee put his hands on the hips.

"Of course it is! Nothing but the best for the captain!"

But Emma was too busy eating, almost ravenous in her actions. "Can't remember the last time I tasted something this good..." She muttered in between bites.

"Doesn't Pan feed you?"

"Oh he does, but none of my brothers are exactly known for their cooking skills." Emma said, with an exaggerated sigh. "Too often the meat they hunt is burnt, and tough to chew." She glanced at Smee, and gave a grudging acknowledgement. "You're good..."

Smee didn't smile, but he didn't frown either. "Someone has to be, to keep the captain and his crew well fed." He stepped away from the table, already intent on setting the room to rights. Hook knew without asking, that the older man was keeping aware of what was going on, alert not only to danger but to any need his captain might voice.

Normally enjoying being pandered to, there was times when Hook found Smee's doting to be annoying. Such time was now, Hook needing neither chaperon nor Smee's brand of protection from the girl. He certainly didn't for one second believe that the girl could get the best of him, that she could physically hurt him, though the pangs of his heart reminded him of how there were other ways Emma Swan could do damage. A damage Smee wouldn't be able to stop, no one would, so long as Hook allowed himself to care.

"Smee, the room can wait for another hour." Hook spoke a dismissal that left the other man protesting almost immediately. He fell quiet at his captain's glare, shoulders sagging just a little, as Hook told him to go out and wait the crew's return.

"Yes, captain." Smee muttered, glancing one last time at the girl. Hook knew without asking, that Smee's tongue would be wagging, informing the crew of the developments that had gone on in their absence, preparing them for the shock the girls' presence would otherwise have on the men.

Hook also trusted Smee to convey his wishes, to make his desires known. The men weren't to agitate the girl, to upset her without reason, and most of all she wasn't to be touched. Hook didn't think his men sick enough to lust over a child, but young Emma wasn't quite that. She was only a few years short of grown, and was pretty enough that men who had been starved of women for too long, might just entertain bad ideas. The fear of Hook's wrath would keep them in check, though he couldn't help but wonder how many would be eager to attempt to trigger the girl into growing up.

At best Emma's presence aboard the Jolly Roger was problematic. At worst it was a disaster, the girl in as much danger as she posed to hearts. Sad as it was, the sooner Pan came for her, the better off most would be. That might even include Emma, so long as she didn't grow up enough for Pan to eat her upon her return.

Such worries made Hook grimace into his drink, the man again wondering what was Pan's game. Wondering if Emma was more pawn than meal, everything Hook thought he knew, coming away wrong. Hook couldn't grasp what Pan's true intentions were with Emma but clung stubbornly to what he did know. Pan ate children, boys in particular, cultivating their growth carefully, to capitalize on the energy and nourishment received. And yet Emma was the unknown element, the very fact that Pan had kept her existence a secret from Hook and his pirates troubling him. Emma was the first girl Hook had ever known Pan to show interest in, and that was important. HOW it was important, Hook couldn't figure out, but it was his hopes that by talking with Emma, he could somehow pry out some of her and Pan's secrets.

How unfortunate for him that the girl was so wary! She ate his food, but watched him with a guarded expression, keeping quiet about her own thoughts and feelings. Hook had a feeling it would take more than charm to coax an answer out of her, and in the hunt for her secrets, he risked forming protective urges even stronger than the ones already in place!

Again he hid a grimace into his drink, Hook both annoyed and yet grateful that Smee had seen to replacing his rum with something infinitely tamer. The apple cider was sweet, and had none of the kick of the rum, Hook needing all his senses to be able to deal with the girl.

She had already finished her sandwich, seeming to delight in trying the different offerings Smee had put on the tray. Hook couldn't begin to imagine existing on a diet of meals cooked by an inexperienced hand, let alone the kind of food a bunch of children would try to make for themselves!

"If you like, perhaps Smee can be persuaded to teach you a few secrets from his kitchen."

Green eyes gazed back at him, the girl cautious. "Do you really think he would?"

"He would with pressure from me." Hook told her. "Of course..." A casual sip of his cider. "It all depends on how long a time you'll be with us. I imagine Pan will be here soon. To get his...girl back."

A frown before she nodded. "Peter WILL come for me."

"So it's just a matter of waiting." Hook said. "Though really, I'm surprised he let you come here without him."

"Peter doesn't LET me do anything." Emma retorted.

"But is he not the master of the lost boys?" Hook asked, feigning surprise.

"He's our leader yes, but that doesn't mean he's a tyrant. We're free to do as we like, mostly..."

"Mostly?" Hook seized on the word, and Emma bit at her lip like she had just said something wrong.

"Well..there are SOME rules..." She reluctantly admitted. "We're not complete savages you know!"

Hook chuckled. "I would never go that far with such an insinuation. Though Pan lets his boys run so wild, that the idea of them having rules, let alone following them..."

"The rules are for our safety." Emma interrupted. "Peter makes sure to look out for us all."

"Yes he does keep a close eye on his group." agreed Hook with a nod. "Which begs the question, where was he when....I believe you said the boy's name was Galen?" She nodded. "Where was he when your Galen was in need of rescuing?"

Another bite of her lip, Emma fingers fidgeting enough to crumble apart the flaky crust in her hand.

"Normally Pan would have rushed into action..." Hook pointed out. "He wouldn't have sent a girl and such young boys to do his work for him."

"I'm perfectly capable to rescue someone!" Emma snapped, adorable even at her most furious. "I got Galen away from you, didn't I?"

"Galen IS Gone, but you've been caught in his place." Hook smiled. "And caught you will remain until Pan deigns to show up."

"That can't happen soon enough for my liking." Emma grumbled, sitting back in her chair.

That was something Hook had mixed feelings about, though his expression betrayed none of that to the girl. "I suppose the wait depends on Pan's whim?" A sly tone to his voice. "Or is it that the item I require will take time to locate?" He tried not to act too interested, hoping to lure her into revealing anything she might know.

"You will never get it." Was all Emma said.

"Then you know of it?" Hook leaned forward in his seat, his eyes intent on the little blonde. She frowned at him.

"Know of it? When I don't even know what IT is?"

Now Hook frowned. Damn Pan, and his secrets. Damn the Indian's shamaness too, for her cryptic words, and her overall inability to actually help Hook. What use would this something be, if Hook didn't know what it was, or what it looked like. How could he find it, and how could he trust anything Pan might give him, when Hook couldn't know for sure if that was the thing the shamaness had spoken of!

"Why do you want it?"

"I need it." Hook answered her. "If I'm going to kill a demon...."

"A demon?!" She squeaked out, her eyes going huge.

"A very dangerous and despicable one." Hook nodded. "It's in the best interest of many, for that demon to die."

"I..I didn't take you for the heroic type..."

"I'm not, Emma." Hook told her. "I am completely self serving, this demon having taken something from me."

"Something you mean to get back?" Emma asked, the green of her eyes alight with both interest and fright.

"Oh no." Hook's smile flattened into nothing. "The something the demon took from me, can never be brought back."

"Never?" Emma whispered, and Hook could just imagine how she was trying to figure out what could be so irreplaceable. But Hook didn't want to talk about Milah with Emma, didn't want to tell her of his lost, his grief. Didn't want to mention the hurt done to him, the torment he had suffered.

Instead, he leaned forward, their eyes locked on each other. "There are things that can happen, things that once done cannot be undone. They leave their mark on us, change who we are. They affect our present, our past, even our future. They scar us, and yes it hurts, but sometimes it makes us stronger..."

She seemed to shiver, most likely thinking of her own past, and whatever scars it had dealt out. "What....what did you lose to the demon?"

Never taking his eyes off of Emma, he brought his hook over his chest. "My heart." He was remembering Milah as he said it, remembering the love that they had shared, and how he had felt as though it was his heart that had been crushed that day instead.

"Your heart?" She squeaked in alarm, practically jumping up out of the chair. Hook didn't rise with her, remaining seated instead. "Then you really are an unfeeling monster?!"

Feeling too much, that was the problem Hook faced! "I wouldn't go that far." Was the extent of the objection that Hook raised.

"Then how far would you go?" Emma demanded.

"To get what I want?" Hook inquired in a mild tone. He was refilling his glass as Emma nodded. "As far as needed, stopping at nothing." His look was bitter then. "Some things we do because they are worth doing, and some forces drive us because of need. It's need that drives me, that compels me to go to any lengths to take from Pan the thing I need to slay my demon!"

"There must be a reason Peter won't give it to you then." Emma reasoned. "Some reason for you not to have it."

"That is not for him or for you to decide!" snapped Hook, the glass angrily thumping on top of the table. Emma flinched at that, but Hook couldn't temper his anger in the moment. "I've waited roughly two hundred years for it, and no one, not you, not Pan will keep me from it!"

They were glaring at each other, Emma looking just as fierce as Hook now felt. The time to coax out Pan's secrets had been lost, the girl worked up enough that she wouldn't feel comfortable in confiding in Hook any time soon. He had thoroughly botched the moment, letting his anger and resentments at the situation and of both Pan and Rumplestiltskin, make him speak in a way he shouldn't have. Forget about charming, he had been snarling at the girl, and her formidable guard was strengthening instead of weakening.

No closer to understanding anything where Emma Swan was concerned, Hook was left confused on whether or not it would be better for Pan to come for her sooner than later. His unsettled feelings grew stronger, Hook sure trouble was being courted the longer Emma Swan stayed on his ship.

#once upon a time #fanfic #captain swan #emma swan #Killian Jones #captain hook #ouat #neverland AU #peter pan #TheShatteredDreamOfInnocence #killian jones x emma swan

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djatoon · 7 years ago

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Politics and the loss of a friend

This has been a tumultuous couple of years on the politics front. First there was Jeremy Corbyn, against all odds, winning the Labour Party leadership contest (it must be said, against a small rabble of policy vacuum opponents). Then there was the EU Referendum, now known as Brexit. And then Donald Trump won the presidency in the USA, again against the odds. All three events have had some impact on my life, and certainly on my thinking about politics (although the Trump victory has marginal interest only being, as it is, ‘across the pond’). Before I dip into these topics in an attempt to position myself in this period of politics, I should say some things about my background.

Although now living a middle-class ‘lifestyle’ (er, actually, a ‘life’), and having a middle-class career, I was brought-up in a working-class family in Newcastle upon Tyne. My dad worked as a decorator, labourer, security guard for city parks, then warehouseman for Kimberly Clark (think bog rolls). My mam was a housewife (when we were young), before working as a home-help for old people. Money was very tight, holidays exclusively camping, mainly in the north (although one fortnight was had in Cheddar in Somerset when we were very young). I didn’t do great as school, just missing out on a pass for the 11+ (me and my parents were interviewed, and evidently the teacher didn’t think I’d get any academic support at home – she was right about that), so I ended up in ‘secondary’ school. I was doing well at secondary, but midway through my planned time there, the brand new Comprehensive education system intervened and I was moved to a new, much larger high school, which proved to be poor, and my focus fell away, as did my results.

But I got lucky. I landed a job in an office, where I rubbed shoulders with people who pretty much all had had a better education than me. During this post-school period, I suddenly became interested in reading, and devoured novel after novel, alongside much self-development material, and I began to punch above my qualification weight. A senior manager mentored me and encouraged me to leave and go to Newcastle Polytechnic to study business. Someone fired a starting pistol, I started running, and I never looked back, and there followed several professional qualifications and, in my thirties, an MBA, all in parallel with what became a successful career in procurement and supply chain management, with company cars and big salaries included. I was/am a working-class kid made good.

In those post-school teenage years, I studied economics and sociology at the local technical college and, for the first time, became aware of politics and ‘class politics’ in particular. Evidently the odds were stacked against me from the off, and the chances of me achieving what we now term ‘social mobility’ were slim indeed. Most didn’t make it. But, like I say, I got lucky and met good people who were prepared to help.

The long-term impact of this start in life has engendered in me a feeling of separation (although, it must be said, it wasn’t really that exceptional at the time – many followed a similar trajectory). I felt working-class but I had aspirations of betterment and personal fulfilment. I don’t feel working-class anymore, for obvious reasons, but I still feel a strong desire to improve, to take personal responsibility for my personal development, learning, and control of my ‘destiny’. I’m ‘big’ on self-determination. And playing fair.

Now, when asked about my politics, I’m very clear – no single party has ever represented the wide range of my political views. I’m interested in individual policies, not programmes. I have, at various elections, voted Labour, LibDem, and a long time ago, Tory. I am a floating voter. Sometimes I don’t vote at all. But one thing that remains important to me whoever wins - accept the result, move on, and live my life. It’s only fair, a win is a win, and next time my preferences might just be better represented.

To what place does this bring me when I’m discussing politics with friends and colleagues? The answer is that it can be an uncomfortable place indeed. Of course, people are often sceptical, floating voters themselves, and they’re not wedded to any particular party or programme. Socially, at least in my network, politics has been a fringe issue or one where differences of opinion are pretty-easily accommodated or comfortably tolerated. Even very close friends who have always, say, voted Labour or Tory, I have perfectly respectful relationships with, and we can discuss politics (and political differences) reasonably and enjoy the occasional heated debate without the threat of falling out. But, with one or two people, it’s more difficult. In fact, one long-term friendship was severed this year, after differences of opinion (I like to think respectively on my side) over Corbyn and Brexit became too much for my estranged friend.

The falling-out with this particular friend (that’s him on the right) has been very illuminating for me. I learned some new things about the politics of attachment and party loyalty that I really hadn’t considered before, themes that have never been important to me. As a floating voter, with no party ‘home’, I was suddenly faced with a friend who was fiercely loyal to party (Labour, as it happens, but that’s not the key factor). I was suddenly arguing with someone who was a campaigner (a real one too), and not just someone who disagreed with on, say, Brexit, the NHS, education, whatever. I began to think of him as a person who consumed, and was active in, politics in a way that had never attracted me. It was a genuine sadness that politics eventually trumped friendship.

Since those early years of self-development and late education, my desire to learn something new every day has sometimes become all-consuming. I feel uncomfortable standing still, treading water, perhaps because I think that if I stop I’ll stop for good, and simply fade away into boredom. I feel compelled to learn more about any topic I’m engaged with, despite realising that the more I learn, the mass of what is still to learn is far beyond my capacity to absorb in this or any other lifetime. But I keep going. I have come to the conclusion that my friend (and others like him) know enough of the answers to not care about seeking new ones.

Their (I think possibly his) pursuit is in the direction of certainty, to decide what is right and what is wrong (I really can’t believe it was always this way with him). Being clear about which side of the argument they must come down on is a priority – moving from political ambiguity – to ‘belong’ to one group at the expense of another. Perhaps this is what it means to be a party member – the overarching desire to commit to a philosophy, a programme, to a series of rehearsed arguments that are deemed superior to the arguments of ‘the other side’. Policy shortcomings are overlooked for the greater good, and to protect ‘the programme’.

There’s another way of putting it, and perhaps a definition of a ‘campaigner’: A person who ask few questions (particularly the difficult, contradictory ones), because they’ve already been provided with the answers by their leaders and their ‘fellow-travellers’. Curiosity is the burden of other people.

So, when a Corbyn or a Brexit comes along, they have already decided what the answer is, and they see little need to ask further questions. Well-developed arguments that challenge their prevailing thinking creates cognitive dissonance, and they get angry. Their confirmation bias means they only consume news and opinions that support their prevailing views. Everything else is rejected, not engaged with or argued against. Instead, it’s ‘shoot the messenger’ time. Those on the other side are liars, charlatans, evil. In the case of the friend I’ve lost, he never genuinely engaged with the substance of the opposing positions on Brexit, but instead thrashed about cursing politicians and non-compliant commentators. The chronology of my and my friend’s ‘falling-out’ was complicated: first he rejected me, later apologising (three months after the vote), but then continuing to behave so poorly that I rejected him. One of his last comments to me was that “I can’t be with people who voted Brexit. I behave badly in their presence.” Moments later he was declaring that he’d do anything in his power to stop Brexit, as it was “an abomination”.

Sometimes there’s another factor in play here, and that is when a political position becomes entwined with self-image. These are the people who label themselves ‘conservative’, ‘liberal’, ‘socialist’ and, worst of all, the (more-righteous-than-thou) ‘progressive’. Each is like a ‘badge of honour’, but to me it’s more like outsourcing your thinking and decision-making to others, leaving the badge-wearer accepting that their leaders have the main arguments covered. But it’s just lazy thinking. Of course such lazy thinking undoubtedly exists on both sides of the political spectrum, and that’s why the best arguments don’t come from the zealots; instead they almost always come from those who acknowledge their uncertainty.

All this attachment to self-image generates that cognitive dissonance again when a friend or colleague, previously deemed to be part of the ‘in-crowd’, expresses views that conflict with the agreed script. It’s even worse this time, because a disagreement on the issue is considered a personal attack. This friend of mine became apoplectic when I presented the other side of the argument – he considered it an attack on his personal wealth and I was ‘promoting’ materials that would “ruin my retirement”. That such hostility could develop from what was an honest attempt to get into the detail of the main issues was, as I suggested earlier, quite shocking. All the more surprising as, for years, we’d enjoyed political debate and were broadly aligned on all the main political issues. That was, of course, until Brexit came along.

I’ll write about the main components of Brexit in a separate post, but I’ve learned a couple of important lessons from all this:

One - my career has involved much negotiation, and I see issues like Brexit through the lens (or filter) of the negotiator – asking about the ‘interests’ of both sides, how will the negotiation play out, and each sides’ strategies and tactics. I find the process fascinating and informs my own teaching and consulting work. But all this ‘navel-gazing’ is just time-wasting to the person that has already made up their mind, and new ‘facts’ simply don’t matter.

And Two - Don’t assume that just because I am enthusiastic in exploring the pros and cons of a particular idea or policy, that others share that interest in spending loads of time learning more about it too. After all, we all have limited bandwidth, and maybe I have too much time on my hands.

#Brexit Politics

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yourstoregoeshere-blog · 8 years ago

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Top 10 Strongest Naruto Characters

With the manga currently ended and the anime drawing to a close, it's time to have a look at the power positions of the Naruto-verse once more as well as change it accordingly. It's definitely hard to rate them appropriately, specifically when a growing number of powerful baddies maintain showing up to challenge our heroes.

With that stated, only personalities who we have seen fighting in the collection will be consisted of and their power ranking will certainly be chosen relative to exactly how well they did against whom in particular battles as well as their ranking will certainly be changed appropriately. This would certainly lead to the exemption of the god-like Rikudou Sennin and personalities like the trailed beasts.

10. Itachi Uchiha

Itachi is the older brother or Nii-chan of Sasuke, our favourite avenger. He was hailed as the youngest ever before to become an ANBU captain and was treasured by the clan for being a prodigy. This was all before he committed the Uchiha Massacre and also took off Konoha, leaving a broken Sasuke clamouring for vengeance.

During the initial fifty percent of the series, Itachi would make numerous looks however never ever devote to a full-scale fight. However, whenever he does appear, any kind of challenger he takes on versus programs severe resistance and also caution when violating him, as he is that frightening.

When he finally challenges against Sasuke, someone who would eventually become one of the most effective characters in the collection, he defeats him to the point that Sasuke turn to extracting Orochimaru. The frightening fact of the situation is this; he had not been also battling to eliminate, yet to shield Sasuke. All this was done while he had a terminal disease. The world simply isn't really prepared for a full powered Itachi.

9. Minato Namikaze

Minato is the Yondaime Hokage (4th Hokage) who gained the name of The Yellow Flash after his activities at the fight of Kannabi Bridge. These actions consist of decimating the entire military of the opposition in a flash by himself using the Hiraishin no Jutsu. The Hiraishin allowed him to teleport around the battlefield instantly, facilitating his loss of an entire military.

Later on, it was revealed that this scary figure was the daddy of Naruto, and also he had sealed fifty percent of the Kyuubi's chakra right into his infant boy in various other to conserve both of the town as well as his kid. Prior to he was taken in by the Shinigami he secured the other half in himself. As a result of this, he was able to access the Nine-Tails Chakra Mode like Naruto when he was summoned by the Edo Tensei.

The capability to command fifty percent of Kyuubi's chakra at will alongside his previous capability truly makes him a horror to see on the battlefield.

8. Discomfort/ Nagato Uzumaki

With the current bad guys like Madara and Kaguya, foes of crazy power levels, lots of have actually forgotten what a frightening figure Pain struck in the past. He was initially the shrouded number that regulated an entire organisation of S-Class criminals making use of only worry as well as power. Little was found out about him until his place was found by Jiraiya. The toad sage was then quickly slain by Pain.

Pain proceeded to not only defeat powerful personalities like Kakashi as well as numerous Jounin of Konoha at the same time, he utilized a jutsu so effective that it leveled the totality of Konoha in a solitary almighty press as if calling forth the power of the gods.

It was just the cooperations of Naruto, the toads, Hinata and the Intel from Jiraiya as well as Kakashi that made it possible for Naruto to eventually and also marginally defeat the self-declared god. It was just near his fatality that he truly demonstrated why he is worthy of to be put at the level of a god, for he broke via the limits of life and fatality as well as restored everybody he killed during his assault on Konoha.

7. Killer Bee

Killer Bee was strong also as a kid, being the just one with the ability of doing a double lariat with A, the quickly to be Raikage. He later got wardenship of the Hachibi after its previous Jinchuriki was eliminated.

By himself, Killer Bee is already rather a capable ninja with extreme physical expertise along with proficiency over his chakra. He wields the distinct Acrobat design, permitting him to consume to 7 blades simultaneously to attack his opponent in a manner evocative hip hop. When integrated with his lightning chakra, he has the ability to tear anything he encounters to shreds.

With the help of Hachibi, Killer Bee is much more terrifying as he has complete control over the Bijuu chakra. With each other, they are able to stand along with Naruto in the battle against 7 various other Bijuu and also Obito simultaneously. He truly deserves his title of Guardian of Kumo, for none can break past this unstoppable force of nature.

6. Obito Uchiha

As soon as the trainee of the well known Minato Namikaze alongside Kakashi Hatake as well as Rin Nohara, Obito was. Nonetheless, it was not his period with Minato that gave him the expertise that he boasts throughout the collection. It was after he was left for dead by his colleagues that he was rescued by Madara Uchiha and trained to become a powerful ninja.

He not just has an Everlasting Mangekyo Sharingan in one eye yet a Rinnegan in the other that he stole from the remains of the previously mentioned Discomfort. With 2 god-like dojutsu at his command, Obito was able to confine 7 Bijuu at the same time and also annihilate the entirety of the Shinobi Alliance at once. It was only the timely arrival of Naruto and also Killer Bee that held him off.

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5. Hashirama Senju

Hashirama was the Shodaime Hokage of Konoha, starting the village alongside Madara Uchiha He was popular for his timber release that was said to have unmatched power. Its true expertise was its ability to suppress the Bijuu, enabling Hashirama to seal them right into containers. His best property is his exceptional vital force, due to being a reincarnation of Asura.

This substantial reserves of vital force allowed him to regrow grievous wounds conveniently, something that Tsunade can only copy via excellent initiative. His huge powers also enabled him to spew out jutsu after jutsu, quickly plowing with any kind of adversary he might discover. It was just his fantastic moral compass that quit him from dominating the Shinobi world while he lived, as even Madara admitted that he would certainly not have been able to beat Hashirama.

4. Sasuke Uchiha.

As the self-proclaimed avenger of his clan, Sasuke has stopped at nothing to get as much power as feasible to achieve his goal. He has actually trained under lots of effective Shinobi like Kakashi, Orochimaru and also perhaps even Obito. With the death of Itachi at his hands, he has even acquired the Infinite Mangekyou Sharingan, making him a lot more effective.

It must also be noted he gained access to the Rinnegan due to being a reincarnation of Indra, permitting him to access both dojutsu at the same time. This placed him as a formidable risk over even the similarity Obito, as his capabilities are normally gained. It's a good thing he associated Team 7, ultimately, isn't it?

3. Naruto Uzumaki

As the protagonist of the collection, it's not a surprise that Naruto rates so highly on the checklist. He has seemingly unrestricted Chakra as a result of being the reincarnation of Asura. This, coupled with the powerful powers he gets from Kurama, offers him basically unlimited shops of power, allowing him to bombard his opponents with Rasengan after Rasengan.

With the Nine-Tails Chakra Setting, he had the ability to stand up to the likes of Kaguya with the help of Sasuke, something that is seemingly impossible due to her goddess status. However, it is not jutsu or chakra that lets him win his fights yet his never ending determination to secure his pals. As Naruto as soon as stated, "Quit on making me surrender!"

2. Madara Uchiha

Madara is the patriarch of the Uchiha clan as well as among the owners of Konoha. Refused by his very own people and also overcome with jealousy, he returned and left the town with the Kyuubi to battle Hashirama, just to be trounced by the Hokage. It went to the point of his death that he unlocked the Rinnegan, but he never got the chance to utilize it.

When he was totally revitalized at during the Fourth Shinobi World War, he had accessibility to both the Sharingan as well as Rinnegan at the same time. He was able to use both to devastating impact, ruining done in his course with informal convenience. In the end, it's vague if Naruto and also Sasuke would certainly be able to beat him if not for the intervention of ...

1. Kaguya Ōtsutsuki

Once a priestess who preferred for tranquility throughout the lands, there was. To that effect, she ate the fruit of the Shinju, providing her the present of chakra. Her chakra was so potent and also deadly by itself that the Shinobi of the modern age simply faded in contrast to her could. Excellent was her could that the populace relieved her from priestess to godhood, christening her with the title of Rabbit Siren.

As the progenitor of chakra, she has accessibility to all kinds of nature changes in addition to Kekkei Genkai. She has the ability to regrow any type of injuries effortlessly, as well as can even move via dimensions to level the field to her advantage. The greatest risk she commands against Naruto and Sasuke is the All-Killing Ash Bones. A single hit would rust their bodies to ash, giving them no choice but to evade after receiving the powers of their reincarnations.

She may have shed as soon as in the past, but it took the initiatives of an entire globe to beat her. Exactly what does that say about her power?

Final Thoughts

We are ultimately ending with the anime. After many years of airing, the long-running collection of Naruto will ultimately involve an end. With this checklist, we could remember the many powerhouses that were present throughout the series, as well as reminisce about the landscape changing fights that they had between each other.

Perhaps with the upcoming series of Boruto, the rankings will certainly transform as the newer generation surpasses the existing one, however, for currently, these are the Leading 10 Strongest Naruto Characters!

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