#to be perfect and always in control with lloyd!! how he trusts him with the annoying and whiny and mean parts of him!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

krirebr · 8 months

Text

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @foulpersonahandsvoid

#dark andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #defending jacob #dark fic #dark!andy barber #dark!fic #reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #ce characters #fanfic #trapped au #kris wrote something

449 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Exit Plan

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍭🍭🍭

"So, how was your midnight walk?" You set down the heavy crate on the metal table with a grunt.

Coco doesn't look up as she dusts the thick wooden board with flour. The one time you tried to make a batch of her delicate scones, they came out like bricks. Ever since, you decided you'll be the muscle. Lifting, moving, dealing with hostile customers. Should one appear.

"Eh, it was cold," she grumbles, "couldn't sleep."

"Mm," you suck your teeth.

"What?" She looks at you beneath her lashes, her hands moving naturally on the dough.

"Where'd she go?"

"Hm?"

"Don't you lie to me too. I got up to get water and you were both gone. I know she didn't come back with you."

She sighs, "she's being stupid. I'm... I'm gonna talk to her, okay? But... she's... we're all dealing with a lot."

"You think after what those jackholes put us through, she wouldn't just walk straight up to the next one," you sneer, "dammit, Coco bean."

You cross your arms and sway, thinking as you turn listlessly. That mustached douchebag, the other one at the store, and the clone copy of the Winter Soldier himself. That's too many coincidences.

"What are you thinking?" Coco asks as he cuts the perfect triangles. You face her and grip the edge of the cold metal.

"We can't stay."

"What?"

"We've always known this isn't permanent and I don't trust it anymore."

"Look, he'll probably disappear now. He got what he wanted."

"Co," you interject, "it's not just him, or the one at the Lodge. There's another one."

"Another--"

"When I went to grab snacks. What would you know he has the same standard issue lip warmer and everything."

The blade hits the wood with a heavy thunk as your eyes meet, "what are you saying? You think they know each other?"

"I know we're seeing a lot of new faces in a deadbeat town. I don't wanna wait around and find that out."

"Hey," the door swings in from the other side, "we need more espresso."

You glare over at Birdy and scowl, "come get it yourself."

"Really?" She pouts and flops her feet like a toddler. She goes to the shelf to grab a bag and you move to block the door. She turns around and winces as she sees you blocking her way.

"Yeah really. You can go off all by yourself in the middle of the night by yourself, I think you can handle a couple ounces of beans.

"What? I--"

"Don't even try to lie."

"Candy," Coco utters.

"No, let's not tiptoe around it. You're sneaking around with that jerk and you're putting us all in danger."

"Candy, please, he's nice. I'm not... putting us in danger."

"Are you dumb?"

"Candy," Coco exclaims, "you don't have to be so mean."

"Seems I do. We can't fuck around with this. I'm not going back," you square your shoulders and drop your hands to your hips. "I love you but I won't do it. Not for either of you. If that mean I have to leave you--"

"Leave? Candy, please," Birdy squeezes the bag of beans as she pleads with you, "you can't go."

"I go or we all go. I'm not staying here and getting knee deep in the shit again."

"Lloyd isn't like that--"

"You don't know him. I don't care if he makes you feel good, it's not worth it and we all know that."

There's silence. Commiseration as you stand in memory of the before. Of those men and their power over you.

Birdy sniffs and wiggles her nose, "alright, I'll say goodbye and--"

"No, he can't know we're leaving. We can't let anyone know. Pack only what you need and nothing else. Someone else will sort this place out."

Coco looks mournfully down at her unbaked scones. She takes the knife and resumes her precise cutting. Birdy inches towards you as you keep your stance tall.

"I won't tell," she mopes, "okay?"

You huff and put your hands to your neck, "Birdy, don't do that. I'm looking out for you. For all of us."

"I know," she looks at the wall, "I'm just as stupid as ever."

Coco sighs and you shake your head, "don't say that." You grab the bag from her arms, "stay and help with the baking. I'll get this going."

#dark!fic #au #august walker x candy #august walker x reader #dark august walker #august walker #mission impossible: fallout #sweet treats #series #drabble #drabble series

114 notes · View notes

goldenavenger02 · 3 years

Text

my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

5 times Zane took care of the team and 1 time the team took care of Zane

•••

"You three are brothers now, and will become stronger together. But for now, you must get acquainted with each other." Sensei's words rang in Zane's head as he made his way into the kitchen of the monastery.

While Jay had been somewhat easy to get introduced to, with his passion for robotics and his tendency to talk, they had become close very quickly.

Cole, however, was a bit harder to speak to; Zane could tell that Cole was a good person, as he was extremely loyal to Sensei even though he had just started his training under him, but he was also closed off to Jay and Zane.

And while he didn't know why, Zane had a feeling it was more so due to some sort of pain in his past, and not him viewing himself and Jay as lower than him.

Which is why Zane was now in the kitchen; he could never quite place exactly why, but he always felt at peace when he was cooking. Something about making something out of nothing was soothing to him.

But before he had decided what exactly he was going to make, that's when Cole came in, a look of longing across his face.

"Hello, Cole," Zane greeted, offering him a smile, but it faded when Cole stiffened, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright, just startled me," Cole insisted, the look of longing came back before he asked, "are you making anything specific?"

"I have not decided. Do you have a request?" Zane asked, trying to read Cole's face.

"Can you make cake? Vanilla cake?"

"Absolutely," Zane smiled, going to grab the ingredients before asking, his back turned to Cole, "are we celebrating something, or is it just cake?"

He heard Cole take in a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to avoid crying, which didn't make much sense, since from what he knew, cake was never for sad things.

Zane turned around to see Cole staring at the counter before he responded.

"Yeah, it's…" he swallowed before locking eyes with Zane, "it would have been my mom's birthday. She passed away a few months ago."

"I am sorry for your loss, Cole." Zane spoke softly, unsure of how best to comfort someone he didn't know very well.

The room went quiet for a few moments, and Zane busied himself with grabbing the rest of the cooking supplies when Cole spoke up again, his voice cracking slightly from the tears.

"Can I help?"

Zane nodded, allowing Cole behind the counter before Zane got to work on the dry ingredients, watching as Cole started working on the wet ingredients.

And when Zane tripped over his own foot, resulting in Cole being covered in flour head to toe, he couldn't stop himself from laughing when Cole did, although he didn't fully understand exactly what was so funny.

"Come on, you stupid hunk of junk!" Nya's shout rang through the Bounty, startling everyone that was aboard.

"How long has she been working on the thruster?" Zane asked, wondering just how long she had gone without food, sleep and water.

"Since yesterday afternoon, I can't pry her away from it." Jay explained, which led Zane to nod before making his way to the control room.

Nya was hunched over the thruster controls, screwdriver in her left hand and a screw hanging out of her mouth, her eyebrows scrunched in anger as she continued to twist the wrench with her right around a bolt.

"Nya?" Zane spoke softly, not wanting to provoke her, before gently putting his hand on her shoulder, "perhaps you should take a break. Jay said that you have been working on it since yesterday."

"I've gotta work on this," she shook her head after taking the screw out of her mouth, "we don't know when we'll have to make a getaway from...whatever Lord Garmadon is planning."

Zane nodded; since Garmadon had disappeared after the destruction of the golden weapons, they had all braced themselves for an attack, even Lloyd who had just started learning the full extent of his powers was getting ready for whatever his dad was going to throw at them.

"I understand your reasoning perfectly, but you are human, Nya. You will get burnt out if you work yourself too hard," he stopped to gently take the wrench out of her hand so she would look at him, "and if we have any chance at stopping Garmadon, we are going to need Samurai X."

Luckily, Nya nodded, and put up her tools, before wiping at her brow with her arm. "Thanks, Zane."

"You're welcome." Zane couldn't help but smile as he watched Nya make her way towards her quarters, and that's when he turned back to the thruster, and started to get to work with schematics pulled up in front of him.

"You will fly again, my friend."

Despite the fact that it was called "The Dark Island", Zane had actually found the perfect place to sit on the beach and watch the sunrise, which was hidden by large rocks, even though he could see the ocean perfectly.

He knew that the others would wake up soon, and they would start working towards the final battle yet again, but for a brief moment, everything was peaceful.

Until he heard the footsteps.

Zane immediately drew his weapon, hearing the slight rustle of sand get louder and louder, until finally, he stood and yelled, ready to attack until the supposed assailant screamed, energy at both of their hands.

Zane immediately sheathed the weapon and took a deep breath, watching as Lloyd did the same, his hand against his chest. "You scared me, Lloyd."

"Likewise," Lloyd took a deep breath before raising an eyebrow, "what're you doing?"

"I'm watching the sunrise, it looks beautiful from here," Zane explained, sitting back down and watching Lloyd's face fall, "although, I could ask you the same thing."

"I just needed some time for myself," Lloyd told him, sitting next to Zane before letting out a sigh, "I don't think I'm ready."

"To fight your father?," Zane offered, resulting in a nod from Lloyd, "You have every reason to be upset about this situation. I just reunited with my father, and I can confidently say that I would be very distraught if we were on opposite sides."

"My entire life, I've lost people. My father got banished, my mother went to work on her research and left me at Darkley's, even my uncle didn't take me in for a long time," Zane watched as Lloyd took in a shaky breath before wiping his face against his sleeve, "I don't wanna lose him again."

"Again?" Zane asked softly, as to avoid provoking Lloyd.

"My dad has been the only one to come back for me. When I got taken by the Serpentine, he left whatever evil place he was in to come save me, and I know you guys came for me too, but…"

"You're scared of being abandoned again after you fulfill the prophecy." Zane spoke aloud as it clicked in his head, and when Lloyd nodded, he could feel his heart break slightly.

"I don't want to be alone again."

Zane nodded, before gently laying his hand on Lloyd's shoulder and he saw the tear streaks on Lloyd's cheeks. "You won't be alone again, because you have me and the others. We are your brothers, and even if you didn't have elemental abilities, we would still be your brothers."

Zane didn't prepare himself adquitally for the hug that Lloyd gave him, and he could feel his circuits and gears tightening under his grasp.

But hearing Lloyd's soft voice whisper, "thank you, Zane," made it all worth it, and he couldn't stop himself from returning the hug.

"No sign of Chen or any of his warriors." PIXAL affirmed with a smile, which led Zane to repeat the message to Kai.

Now that he had been freed, he was fully able to explore exactly what his new body could do, and while he remembered big events clearly and flashes of small things, his memory was still foggy.

But he remembered his friends, and that was the biggest thing that mattered to him.

"Any sign of Skylor?" Kai begged, and Zane had no choice but to shake his head no, seeing the look of anguish on Kai's face grow more prominent.

"Let's keep looking. They couldn't have gotten off the island." Kai insisted, Zane following closely behind, watching as Kai's face went from anger to worry.

"You seem distraught, Kai. About more than Skylor," Zane reached forward and gently set his hand on Kai's shoulder, watching as he turned back to meet his eyes, "do you want to talk about it?"

Kai let out a sigh before turning back to the path and continued to walk, "I feel terrible for what happened. I had to trick Lloyd in order to get the staff from Chen, and then I almost hurt Lloyd and Skylor with the staff. Now she's missing, and...I feel like that's on me."

"No one blames you for that, Kai. Chen is the one who took her, not you." Zane reasoned softly.

"But I allowed myself to be corrupted by the staff. We all know how bad losing power is for Lloyd, and I allowed the power to consume me, to say things to him that...that I haven't believed in a long time."

"As soon as we get back, you two should talk and get everything out in the open," Zane stopped once again to put his hand on Kai's shoulder, "if we are going to fight as one, and stop Chen, we cannot have any harsh feelings towards each other."

"You're right," Kai nodded, before letting out another sigh, "I just hope Lloyd doesn't hate me."

"I think that would be impossible, Kai," Zane insisted, and when Kai turned to raise an eyebrow at him, he continued, "I do not remember everything, and my memories are still foggy, but I remember just how much Lloyd and you have bonded over the years. I have a feeling that after you two talk, he will forgive you."

Kai smiled, which made Zane's emotion levels spike with happiness, before the two continued walking deeper and deeper into Chen's island.

Zane couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, like there was a gap in his memory drive, even if PIXAL insisted that there wasn't one.

So he was awake in the bridge, trying to double check; he really did trust PIXAL, but something had happened to his memories, and after the whole situation with his memory switch in the first place, something about forgetting just scared him.

But as he continued to go through his internal hard drive, and his memory drive, it seemed as though PIXAL was correct, and there was no gap.

As he went to close the files, that's when PIXAL popped up in his vision.

"Zane, there is someone in the general proximity of the bridge. Proceed with caution."

Zane straightened his back as he closed the files, even though the only sound he could hear was a slight sniffling that sounded a lot like crying, and grabbed one of the spare katanas that was out, turning slowly to see if he could scope out who was in the room, but that's when Jay turned the corner, a pint of ice cream in his hand that he almost threw at Zane when he screamed.

"What the heck are you doing up, Zane?!" Jay screeched as Zane set the katana on the table and approached him, "You're going to give me a heart attack if you're that quiet!"

"I'm sorry, I was just…" Zane trailed off before making eye contact with Jay, who now had the spoon from the pint of ice cream, that looked like it was Cole's ice cream, in his mouth; the tear streaks barely visible against Jay's cheeks, however, that's what Zane noticed, "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Could ask you the same thing," Jay responded before sticking another spoonful in his mouth, "couldn't sleep, got hungry, and Cole's name isn't on his ice cream."

"I heard someone crying." Zane asked softly, watching as Jay nearly choked on a chunk of cookie dough before sputtering.

"Maybe it was Lloyd, you know he curls up under the wheel when he doesn't want anyone to know he's crying."

"Lloyd was snoring when I left our room, I would have seen him," he watched as Jay's body deflated slightly and he put the ice cream down on the console before sitting down, which led Zane to put his hand on his shoulder, "do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm just working through some things, things that...you wouldn't remember."

Zane swallowed as he made the connection that Jay knew exactly why he had a gap in his memory that PIXAL couldn't detect, but instead of freaking out, he sat next to Jay, and put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe not, but I am willing to listen, even if you wanna erase this conversation afterwards."

"Nah, I'm not gonna do that," Jay wiped his hand across his face before taking a shaky breath and turning back to Zane, "You remember when we were trying to get to Stiix because of reports of Clouse being there?"

"Yes, that's when you and Nya resumed dating." Zane affirmed, watching as Jay's face fell slightly.

"Yeah, that's… not exactly what happened…"

'Remember when I put Kai's clothes in with yours, and you had to dress up as the pink ninja? Remember?' The blonde boy pleaded, green eyes full of tears.

He had no idea what this liar was talking about, let alone who he was. Vex insisted he was some sort of liar or traitor, but there was something about the way…

'No.'

He had no idea who this was.

•••

Zane tried to shake the memory away as he made his way to his room, looking over at the photo on his dresser.

The picture that they had taken after finishing the mural on the monastery wall; where Kai was holding onto Nya and Lloyd and Nya was holding onto Jay and Jay was holding onto Cole and Lloyd was holding onto him and he was holding onto PIXAL.

And they were all happy; even though the Oni almost killed them all, there was a large gash next to Lloyd's eye and Cole looked like he had been through the underworld and back, they were happy.

Zane was anything but happy now.

When they returned from the Never-Realm, and they shared weary smiles and hugs with Master Wu and PIXAL, despite the frostbite, Lloyd's obvious concussion and the burns on Kai's hands that would definitely scar, they were happy.

The feeling in Zane's gut was not going away anytime soon. Watching as PIXAL stitched the cut on the back of Lloyd's head, applied bandages to Kai's hands, and treated the frostbite wasn't helping with that either.

Zane didn't deserve to feel happy after nearly killing the others. After nearly killing Lloyd.

While the others were eating dinner, courtesy of Nya, Zane was sitting outside on the steps of the monastery; he didn't need to eat, and even if he did, he didn't think he could stomach it.

'You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You failed your purpose. Both as a ninja, and as yourself.'

Despite all that had happened with his memories, Zane was starting to consider asking Jay to wipe the archive of the Never-Realm. Maybe he wouldn't feel as bad then.

"Hey," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he lifted his head to see Lloyd smiling at him, although it was more of a sympathetic smile than a genuine one, "mind if I sit here?"

"You're not supposed to be outside, or on stairs for that matter, without supervision," Zane reasoned, but still moved so Lloyd could sit beside him, "you still have a concussion."

"Well, you're here, so I'm being supervised," Lloyd reasoned while sitting, and Zane couldn't deny that logic, and the company was more welcome than the deafening silence, "besides, I need a break from Kai and Master Wu breathing down my neck."

Zane nodded as Lloyd adjusted to get comfortable; he had noticed how understandably protective both of them had grown since they had gotten back, and how Lloyd had insisted immediately that the concussion was Vex's fault, refusing to look Zane in the eye.

"So, are you leaving?" Lloyd's voice cracked, which jolted something in Zane's system as he nearly stood with the shock.

"No, no, I'm not leaving," he insisted, unable to ignore the relief on Lloyd's face as he spoke, "why would you ask that?"

"Because the last time you left the monastery at night, you found my treehouse," Lloyd kicked at a pebble before looking at Zane, "and when the Hypnobri burned down the old monastery-"

But Lloyd's voice cut out as the scene played out in his head.

'Flames, trapped dragons, no more training equipment, no home, nowhere to go, alone, everyone accusing him of causing this, insisting that it was a teaching moment, being ignored, seeing the falcon, following it, the feeling of being alone again.'

"I left because I saw the falcon, and you weren't even there." Zane tried to convince Lloyd that it hadn't been the guilt, feeling like he had screwed up, feeling like he was alone.

"You're right, I was busy being a brat," Lloyd reasoned before looking back at Zane, "but I know as well as anyone what guilt is, and you felt it then, like you feel it now."

Zane swallowed; did everyone know? Was he terrible at hiding this? Had they planned to send Lloyd out?

"I hurt people. A lot of people," Zane swallowed, knowing that there were tears in his eyes, "I hurt you."

"That was Vex-" Lloyd tried to insist, but Zane shook his head, unable to look at Lloyd and instead looked up at the glittering stars.

"You don't have to lie to me, Lloyd. They were my hands, I was the one who…" he couldn't even finish his sentence without choking on the emotions on his throat.

He felt Lloyd's hand on his shoulder, he couldn't look at him, but he couldn't reach over and pull his hand off either, 'what if I freeze him? What if I hurt him again?'

"You know, Master Wu has a saying for things like this, "we cannot change the past, but we can affect the future"," Lloyd quoted, leading Zane to swallow harshly as his master's words rang true in his head, "but I get it. Feeling like you hurt people because it was your hands."

'Morro.'

"Lloyd, I didn't-" Zane started, finally managing to look at Lloyd, but he was cut off by childlike wonder spreading across his face.

"A shooting star! Quick, make a wish!" Lloyd begged, and Zane wiped at his tears before closing his eyes, pretending to make a wish before turning back to Lloyd.

"What did you wish for?" He asked, fully indulging Lloyd at this point, who was standing up. 'Lloyd deserves this, after everything.'

"That you'll come back inside with me and the others," Lloyd held out his hand to Zane, making his head throb with worry.

'You'll hurt him, you'll hurt him, you'll hurt-' "You're not going to hurt me, Zane."

Zane took Lloyd's hand, and allowed him to lead him to the living room.

For the first time since they got back from the Never-Realm, as Cole and Kai went head to head in their video game, as Nya and Jay snuggled on the couch, as he sat in between Lloyd and PIXAL, things felt right again.

He let PIXAL hold his hand, he let Cole high five him, he let Jay give him a fist bump, he hit the empty bag of chips away from Lloyd's head. Even as Master Wu pulled Lloyd away from the TV due to the concussion and Cole took his spot, he still felt calm. Relaxed even. Maybe now, they could all start to heal together.

#Ninjago #lego ninjago #zane ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #jay walker #nya ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #master wu #pixal #pilot season #season 2 #season 4 #season 6 #season 11 #angst #family #friendship #the formatting is a little weird but i wanted the whole story to fit on here

100 notes · View notes

buried-in-autumn-leaves · 3 years

Text

Secrets Between Siblings

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: Lego Ninjago

Relationship: Lloyd Garmadon & Nya

Characters: Lloyd Garmadon, Nya (Ninjago), Kai (Ninjago)

Word Count: 945

Also Available on AO3 !!!

"You want me to watch him?"

"Can't help it, sis. Pythor's been spotted in the area. You know what'll happen if we don't keep tabs on him."

"Well, do all of you really have to go?" Nya asked, hopefully.

"I'm really sorry. It's just for a few hours. Promise."

"You always leave me with him!"

Kai smiled. "He isn't that bad. Just give him a chance. You’re a lot more alike than you think-"

"How dare you compare me to that little brat?"

Her brother just laughed, picking up his sword. And then he was gone, pulling his mask and running off with his teammates, and Nya was alone.

Well, not alone, but that was kind of the issue.

So, babysitting duty. A past-time Nya had never looked forward to, much less enjoyed. Having to deal with the literal spawn of evil who apparently had nothing to do but make Nya miserable.

It just wasn't fair. She was just as capable of fighting as the others. Maybe even more so! She couldn't even count how many times she'd saved their lives with her mech.

She smiled smugly thinking about the reaction she'd get if the others discovered the identity of the 'infamous' samurai. All those comments about how much they hated their competition, the brushing off Nya's requests to help on missions. She could so easily prove herself and earn their respect. She'd finally be out of her brother's shadow.

But not yet. Keeping her identity secret had some positives. As stressful as it was, there was certain information people were less likely to give to the people who have every villain in the known world against them. Especially when they openly raise Lloyd Garmadon.

And how were they about to trust the brat? Sure the weapons reacted to him but that doesn't mean he's not evil! There are forces that aren't his dad that are still evil.

Well, whatever. She has a kid to find.

Sighing, she made her way to the bunks after moving the ship about 50 feet into the air. The action, normally unnecessary, had become a habit since Lloyd had run off that one time in the middle of the city. He didn't get in any trouble for it, of course. Being the ever-perfect chosen one and all.

"Hey! You in here, Lloyd?" She called into the room. No answer. Of course, why would it be that easy?

She looked under all the beds, not questioning anything when Lloyd was nowhere to be found. He had a habit of hiding around the ship, if not to set up one of his childish pranks, just to cause panic. The others fell for it every time. They all got so worried when he hid, but in all honesty it just meant he'd probably be out of the way until the others got back.

Nya had some repairs to make on the Samurai X suit today though, so she really needed to know where he was.

Annoyed, she started the search. It wasn't a big ship, but the kid always found his way into the smallest places, so it took longer than expected. After looking in all his usual hiding spots, Nya accepted the fact that she'd have to search the entire ship. Again.

"Stupid brat."

The security cameras. They were, logically, the best place to start. Especially if Lloyd happened to be moving spots. Couldn't hurt to check them.

She walked over to the computer and turned It on. The fans started, and after a minute the screen lit up. Thank god, it seemed the kid hadn't disabled anything. Loading up the cameras, Nya frowned.

"What…?"

The cameras, while on and properly functioning, were entirely blank. Upon further inspection, she decided they were probably taped over with something, as they weren't completely dark, light seeping through.

She sighed again and walked over to the console that controlled the PA system throughout the ship. Slamming her hand down on the button harder than necessary, she hoped that Lloyd hadn't messed with this yet.

"Okay Lloyd. I am not going to do this today. Get out here. Now." She let go of the button, relieved that she heard her voice over the speakers in the next room over.

"I'm right here."

She turned quickly, startled by the voice behind her. And there was Lloyd, sitting at the table, with that stupid smile on his face.

"You- How did you- When did you get here?" Nya stuttered.

Lloyd shrugged in response. "I've been here the whole time."

"No, you haven't."

"You can't prove that." He grinned.

"I was just in here- you know what? No. I'm not gonna deal with this. I don't have to entertain you."

"I expect nothing less…" Lloyd muttered bitterly.

Deciding to ignore the remark, Nya turned towards the camera monitors. "I expect these to be uncovered within the next ten minutes. After that you'll stay in your room until the others get back. I have some work to get done Understood?"

"But Uncle Wu and the others I could hang out where I want!"

"Well as we just established, they aren’t here. Which means I'm in charge. And I'll be locking your door if you're not willing to listen."

"That isn't fair!"

Nya rolled her eyes, "You're acting childish. I wasn't going to lock the door but you just can't be trusted. Now go uncover the cameras while I go grab my tools. I really need to get this stuff done."

She powered off the computer and walked towards the door, pausing when Lloyd spoke up again.

"Did you steal those from Jay's lab, too?"

…

"What did you just say?"

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #nya smith #Kai Smith #abandoned work

10 notes · View notes

fanfalc-616 · 3 years

Text

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Twenty-Seven

(Previous Chapter Here)

Hey guys on a scale of one to ten how much to do hate me?

I bet that number’s about to go up a few notches~

Cole can’t focus on his work.

He’s trying, he’s doing everything he can, but his brain refuses to cooperate, instead going back to one single fact.

Today is Zane’s birthday.

Or, well, ‘creation day’, as he would say in a fondly exasperated tone.

No matter how hard he tries to focus on right now, the only thing he can think about is how happy they all were together.

It’s been so long, so, so, so long, and Cole curses himself for not being able to remember all the details. The little angles of his smile, the brightness of his blue eyes, the softness of his synthetic skin when they held hands… it’s all so hazy now.

But when he closes his eyes, he can still remember how they were when they were together. How startled he had been when they realized Cole was strong enough to pick him up- and how much he laughed and half-heartedly lectured him when Cole abused that ability. How he started pranking Jay by pretending not to understand metaphors and jokes that he actually had already figured out. How he would insist on keeping their bedroom clean and organized even when Kai would absolutely trash it two days after he picked it all up.

His mind is just flooded with memories of him, images and events and feelings- Zane is the only thing he can think about.

He would always insist on pointing out how ‘illogical’ birthday wishes were, he would refuse to let anyone else make the cake- well, at least after Cole’s failed attempt at it.

Zane… he’s irreplaceable. And they- they’ve lost him before. After they fought the Golden Master, after he died. The team split up, they couldn’t even look at each other without painful memories attacking them.

Because… Lloyd leads them. Cole holds them together. Kai keeps them going towards their goal. Jay makes jokes and keeps their spirits up. Nya stops them from falling into their own self doubt.

But Zane? Zane was the one who brought life to them.

He helped Lloyd when he didn’t trust himself enough to lead. He helped Cole when he fell apart. He helped Kai when he felt he couldn’t keep going. He helped Jay when he woke up from nightmares he refused to explain. He helped Nya when she second-guessed herself.

Zane was always there, always bringing out the best in them, always protecting them from whatever tried to hurt them.

Cole can’t let this keep going. He can’t let the purest, kindest, gentlest person he knows be hurt like this.

Whatever they’re doing to him there, he can’t stand for it. He can’t fail, he can’t give in, he will do anything and everything to save him.

He loves Zane with everything he has, and Cole refuses to let them keep him from him.

Zane may not be human, but Cole wouldn’t want him any other way.

They will never take away the one he loves.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Another wire is pulled on.

Another set of circuits is jostled.

Another panel is pushed to the side.

Zane stares blankly ahead, doing everything in his power to avoid acknowledging it. He had even turned off his artificial respiratory system- with the way his chest plate is open and inner workings are exposed, his circuits don’t need the extra cooling.

A hand pulling his power source almost out of his chest makes a strangled whimper escape the back of his throat. The pain is overwhelming, but he grits his teeth and forces it down.

Showing emotion gets it hurt. And it doesn’t want to get hurt.

After a few more moments of struggling with his own thoughts, he allows himself to listen in on what the people working on him are saying.

The one typing notes into his computer frowns in thought. “Was it- yeah, I think it was actually built today. The exact year isn’t here, but I think it’s sixty? Seventy? Somewhere around there?”

Zane feels himself tense up. He- it’s his birthday? Well, more technically, ‘creation day’, but the others had always insisted on referring to it by the more human term. They-

“Hey, Original. What year were you built?”

The direct question grabs his attention, and he takes half a moment to think back- it’s been quite a long time, given that he watched his father grow old.

“My original body was completed and activated sixty-three years ago. My current body was completed two years, one month, two weeks and six days ago,” he answers, forcing his voice to remain emotionless.

Something is aching in his chest- and it’s not because of the way his workings are being probed.

Has it really been that long? It’s been… over eight months. He’s been here for- for so long, he-

Another weak whimper is forced out of it with the manipulation of his power source, and he once again tries to muffle it.

His birthday. It had always had such good memories attached to it.

He can remember the time Cole had taken it upon himself to be the one who baked the cake. Flour, sugar, eggs- the ingredients ended up almost everywhere except for in the baking sheet. It had been extremely amusing- but in the end, Zane had decided to spare him from his repeated failed efforts and make the cake himself. His attempt was, thankfully, edible.

With that memory, he’s reminded of another- when Kai had somehow gotten it into his head that he must get Zane the best present. The hours and hours the red ninja had spent researching and trying to find what he would like the most actually did serve a use- Zane didn’t think that any copies of that book were still around, and it was very much a pleasant surprise when Kai gifted it to him.

Not to mention the first birthday they celebrated, the one after they had missed the first year due to Zane’s amnesia. Jay had decided that it needed to be perfect, with absolutely no room for error. He spent so long looking into details and small factors that really made no difference, but the pride he had showed was too endearing for Zane to be willing to point that out.

But… in the end, he honestly couldn’t care less about the food, gifts, or decorations.

What really made it special were his friends.

Zane can hear its own processor working as he tries to push the memories into the back of his mind. He- he doesn’t want to remember, it doesn’t want to think about what he used to have, he doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s never going to have that again, he-

No, no, he needs to stop, it needs to get the thoughts out of its head, if he keeps this up he’ll likely begin to cry, and he doesn’t want to get hurt again, he’s so tired of being hurt, he-

/“Hey Frosty!” Jay had chirped as he pushed the cake towards him. “Happy Birthday!”

“Hey, hey, someone turn off the lights!” Kai waved his hand around as he tried to get someone’s attention. “I’m gonna light the candles!”

Zane’s mouth had quirked up. “I highly doubt blowing out small fires on a pastry will grant any wishes,” he pointed out for the upteenth time, well aware of the response he would get.

“C’mon, Zee, don’t be so technical about it. It’s a birthday wish!” Cole had rolled his eyes, but his annoyance was clearly playful as he flicked off the light switch.

With the candles lit, Zane had smiled as he listened to the poorly tuned singing of ‘Happy Birthday’ from his boyfriends.

When the song ended, Zane had chuckled before blowing the candles out, even though he had no wishes in mind.

He didn’t need any birthday magic- not when he had his friends beside him./

Against his will, his respiratory system is reactivated, his breathing coming in raggedly. Fighting back the urge to cry, Zane breathes out a few quiet words.

“I… I wish I could see you again.”

Once they escape, it’s like a dam had been broken. Despite his best efforts, there’s nothing he can do to stop the sobs torn from him.

The memories… he has just enough of them to torment him without comfort. He can remember their experiences, but not their faces. He can remember how he felt, but not the details of the events that caused the coded emotions.

It can hear the way he’s ordered to stop, but the voice seems so distant, almost muffled. His body refuses to follow the command, and he continues to cry, wishing with everything left inside of him for one thing, just one small, simple thing.

To see his friends.

Just one last time.

They can take him back after, if they wish, and he will return. It will allow them to take him here if he must, if only he could only talk with them once more, just to tell them one final thing.

Just to tell them goodbye.

He’s not going to last here for much longer. He knows this. And it pains him to know that he will never truly see them again. Even if they find him later, once he has truly shattered in their grasp, he… he won’t be Zane anymore. He won’t be the one they recognize. He’ll simply be a puppet, a thing for them to command and control.

And it’s not that that he’s scared of. He knows that this will be his fate. He’s already numbed to their commands and actions against him.

What hurts is knowing that he will never be theirs again. He’ll never be their teammate, their friend, their lover…

He’ll only be a shadow of the one they had loved.

He will not love them in return.

And they will have no choice but to accept that.

His chest panel is closed, and he’s roughly taken from the table, towards the training room. Even as he chokes on his own sobs, it doesn’t resist them.

And even if he can’t truly say it to them, even if they won’t ever hear it… he can tell them. He can tell them what he needs to say.

“I will love you to the very end, my friends.”

“Goodbye.”

#the rights of a nindroid #ninjago fanfiction #trauma #psychological torture #torture

18 notes · View notes

umbry-fic · 3 years

Text

To you, with love (2)

Summary: Mother's Day is a difficult day for all of them, and one that they each choose to spend differently.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Lloyd Irving, Colette Brunel Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving, Lloyd Irving & Anna Irving Rating: G Chapter: 2 of 3 Word Count: 6325 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 09/05/2021

Notes: This chapter covers Lloyd and Colette. I haven't written the third one yet. Hopefully someday!

Previous chapter

~~~

Blue. Blue was the only colour in his vision. Everything was blue. The paper, the desk, his hands -

Alright, it was official. He’d been staring at the blue paper sitting on his table for too long. Lloyd groaned, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow and nearly knocking his pencil off the table. He needed to look away and do something else before he drove himself completely insane.

The only upside was that the shade of blue was close to the colour of Colette's eyes. He could almost imagine he was staring into her eyes...

The piece of blue paper was just as mockingly empty as it had been when Genis had handed it over. Lloyd could almost see the imaginary words meant to fill it up but which could not be found, forming utter gibberish in his head. He had half a mind to just start stabbing holes in the paper with his pencil with all the pent-up energy in his hands, but that felt like a waste of perfectly good paper. Perhaps a paper aeroplane would work? Those were fun to watch fly through the air, though his aim was abysmal. The last time he’d thrown one, it had flown straight into Professor Raine’s face and landed him in detention. Maybe he could ask Colette to throw it out of the window of his house the next time she came over…?

“What do you think we should do with these?” Colette asked, tapping him on the shoulder with her pencil. Her head had been turning between her assignment and the other sheet of blue paper on her desk, deliberating what to attend to.

Lloyd sighed, rolling his pencil from side to side with a finger. “I don’t know. Genis just gave the extra paper to us without any further explanation.” Sneaking a peek at Genis showed that he was engrossed in writing his note, occasionally erasing full sentences with hard rubs of his eraser before slashing more words across the paper. Genis was doing something important and was not to be disrupted. As for the two of them... That was a completely different story.

“It’s not like we have anything to write…” Colette muttered, resting her chin on her palm and staring off into the distance.

Lloyd was still a little worried over what Colette had said minutes before. The same smile as always was on her face, but it was missing… something. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was different, only that it was missing the essence that brightened her surroundings and could warm his heart without fail.

Mother’s Day was a sore spot for both of them, but more so for her. Every year, she would spend the day with him by his mother’s grave, silently watching him tell his mother… whatever he felt like saying. It wasn’t exactly a special occasion for him, just a day like any other where he might choose to visit his mother’s grave and tell her about his day. He'd wish her a happy Mother's Day, maybe plant a few more flowers, but nothing more than that. What point was there to writing a card or getting a gift when he could only place it by his mother's grave and watch the weather wear away at it until nothing was left?

Colette couldn’t even do something as simple as visit her mother, let alone send her a message… He wanted to help her, somehow, but what could he do? He didn’t control the Church’s customs. He certainly couldn’t bend them. If Colette as the Chosen was helpless, what power did he hold, as someone who wasn’t even raised under the Church of Martel?

He hated it, being powerless to do anything for Colette. She never spoke about how she felt, either, refusing to spoil the day for him, instead locking it all away. He wanted to return that cheer to her, wanted to banish her melancholy… But his mind was empty, devoid of any solutions to this complex problem. As it always was. He wasn't known for problem-solving, only for the creation of new problems.

Wait, no! There was something he could suggest they do, an idea finally coming to him after racking his brain hard. Now his head hurt, but it would all be worth it if he could help Colette.

“How about we write a note to our mothers as well?”

“Us?” Colette’s attention snapped back to him, her gaze focused again instead of drifting a thousand miles away. “But how would we ever deliver it?”

“Leave that part to me. I’ll tell you more later.” He grinned, leaning closer. This could work! This could actually work, and cheer Colette up... “Trust me?”

“Alright.” Colette nodded without any hint of resistance. She trusted Lloyd completely. If he said he could do it, he would. “Now to just get to writing?”

“Right…” Lloyd groaned, leaning back in his chair and picking up his abandoned pencil, not willing to press it to paper just yet, the blue once again sucking him in as he stared down at the paper. He’d forgotten that he actually had to write something first, his mind skipping over that step completely in his hurry to conceptualise the delivery method. He was already dreading how this was going to go. He was terrible at writing the essays Professor Raine asked for, mixing up words, screwing up grammar and writing with the worst vocabulary known to mankind. And those were in response to simple scenarios like “Timmy went into the forest”, not the complex question of what he even wanted to tell his mother, given how little he knew and how much he yearned to know. This was going to be horrible…

“It doesn’t need to be some eloquent masterpiece, Lloyd,” Colette encouraged, having picked up on his hesitance, as she always did. She patted his shoulder with a comforting hand. “Just write from the heart! I believe in you.”

There were so many things he wanted to tell his mother: a thank you for saving him, appreciation for bringing him into this world, questions about what kind of person she was, what she liked, whether… whether or not she was proud of him. Those were the questions that always simmered in the back of his mind but were occasionally brought to the forefront, especially when he was reminded of the untimely death of his mother. The desire to get any concrete answer burned whenever those questions presented themselves, enough to choke him sometimes with its surprising intensity.

And of course, that final question he didn’t know if he had the courage to voice. What was his father like, and… was he still alive?

But there would be no letter if he didn’t start. So it was time to get to it, as Colette had said.

To write from the heart…

~~~

“Hi, Lloyd!” Colette waved cheerily. Her shoes sank into the grass before his house, making little crinkling sounds as she ran closer. Gripped tightly in her other hand was her Mother’s Day card, folded into a neat and tiny square, as well as the stems of a few pink carnations, their sweet scent suffusing the air around her. The flowers must have been freshly-picked from her grandmother’s garden.

“Do you have everything on you?” He asked, grabbing her free hand and beginning to tug Colette towards the tiny stream that ran by his home. In his pockets were the materials he’d need: the card he’d touched up in his free time, and a few sprigs of herbs, namely rosemary and lavender, plucked from where he grew them by his bedside window and which Dad sprinkled liberally into the stew he made. Slotted under his arm was the pan that he’d whittled out of wood over the week, a little rudimentary with its elliptical shape and rough surface, but good enough to serve its purpose.

“Yep!” Colette waved her card in his face, the words hidden by the folds she had made, the petals of the carnations tickling his nose and making him sneeze. “I brought enough flowers for the both of us. Grandma told me that pink carnations represent a mother’s love, so I thought they were perfect!”

They'd both decided on flowers as a separate gift. Most people bought a bouquet of flowers as a Mother's Day gift. It was a perfectly fine gift, especially since neither of them knew their mothers' likes and dislikes. And it was as he told Genis. His only fuzzy memory of his mother was giving her a handful of wildflowers, freshly picked from the fields. His mother's breezy laughter was all he could recall, and the ghost of a warm smile, lost to time.

“Thanks! Pink carnations... Have you heard the story behind them before?”

Lloyd didn't remember who he'd first heard it from. A story of a mother and two children trying to escape from the wrath of a group of Desians, but who couldn't run fast enough to ditch their pursuers. The mother had asked her children to run, as fast and as far away as they could. She alone had stayed behind to lead the Desians astray for as long as humanly possible. Eventually, she'd been caught, but even under threat of torture and with a sword at her throat, she had refused to divulge the location of her children. Her blood stained the carnations at her feet, turning them forever pink. And that was how pink carnations were born.

It wasn't exactly a kids’ story to be told at bedtime. It was one of those popular stories spread around school a few years back, he didn't know what for. Scaring people?

He knew it was a story that had been passed down for hundreds of years, perhaps longer. According to Dad, however, some elements just didn't add up. The location being a fantastical forest that, as far as he knew, didn’t exist in Sylvarant, the children somehow being able to use magic to help them get away when the mother was powerless… All stories had an element of truth, but this one had its truth buried under millennia of hearsay, the original words mangled, perhaps beyond recognition, by the passage of time. What was the true form of this story, and what was its purpose?

"Yeah. That story… It's really tragic, but… I guess that's just how far a mother would be willing to go. Like yours…" Colette muttered, gaze drifting to the floor.

"Oh!” She cried out seconds later, realising that what she’d said had been insensitive and could have wounded Lloyd. That was the last thing she wanted. Her gaze snapped back up to his, voice frantically leaving her throat and filled with worry. “Oh no, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that -"

“It’s fine, Colette. It’s the truth.” The past could not be altered, no matter how much he wished that he could see a different present, one where his parents were alive and well. If that came to be, however, where would he be now? His life would have taken a far different path. Would he have ever met the people who had become his closest friends, the ones who he trusted with everything? Would he have met Dirk, who had provided him not just a roof over his head and food on a plate, but had given him a loving home and taught him everything he knew now?

He would not wish his life any different, for that would mean forfeiting the blessings he’d received despite the bumpy start. Living a happy life did not mean burying his past or forgetting the tragedy that had occurred, but rather, was the best way to honour his mother. That was what Dad said as well, along the same vein as Colette’s words yesterday. All any mother wanted was to see their child grow up happy.

“All I can do is honour that by continuing to live,” he finished, hoping he was on the right track.

“Oh, that’s good. I still shouldn’t have said it though...” Colette muttered with regret, squeezing his hand.

Colette, strangely enough, seemed to have some sort of obsession with his mother’s sacrifice, blurting out a random question once in a blue moon before immediately retracting with awkward apologies. There was no malicious intent there that he could detect, just a frenetic desire for something that he didn’t understand, so he didn’t really mind.

He wondered why, though. What could be so interesting? It wasn’t altogether that foreign of a scenario. Perhaps it was in Iselia, but not across the whole wide world.

“Come on, forget about it,” Lloyd insisted, coming to a stop on the bank of the stream. The clear stream water, a little higher than usual due to last night’s rain, rushed merrily by with a faint gurgling sound mere centimetres from his feet. He’d have to take care not to get too close, and to remind Colette to do the same. He wanted to avoid either of them slipping in the mud and falling in. Controlled swims in the river were fun. Not uncontrolled dives into the water. He didn't want Colette catching a cold, either... “We’ve arrived by the river!”

“So, what does the river have to do with anything? You never explained any further after class!” Colette asked, cocking her heads. The heads of the carnations drooped towards the grass, the stems beginning to bend in her hands.

“Well,” Lloyd said, retrieving the wooden pan and placing it onto the grass (at a safe distance from the mud, where it would no doubt slide into the river and never be seen again, even if that was the point) and rummaging through his pockets for his card. Feeling the familiar, smooth sensation of paper under his fingers, he pulled out what he thought was his note, only to find himself faced with the designs for Colette’s birthday present that he’d doodled in class, looping curves forming the basis of the pendant he’d decided upon.

He hurriedly stuffed that back in. He would not be spoiling the surprise. Back to searching.

“Dwarves have their own set of beliefs, you know?” Lloyd continued, starting what he knew might be a lengthy explanation. He hoped he could remember everything Dad had said; it would be kinda disrespectful to get things wrong. Oh well, nothing much he could do in that case. “Could you set the flowers and your card on the pan?”

Colette hummed in agreement, doing as he directed. Lloyd, having finally found his folded-up card in the labyrinth of his too many pockets, placed it on the pan as well. Thankfully, it had somehow been saved from the fate of being crumpled. Not like his last assignment, which he’d somehow shredded in the workshop… At least it hadn't been eaten by Noishe.

In the end, he’d given his mother a detailed account of the interesting happenings of the past year and wished her a happy Mother's Day, as he would have in the past, sitting by her grave. But he'd also written down all the questions he wanted to ask, and expressed the message that he was doing well, as well as the hope that she was too.

He wondered if, one day, he would actually get to learn more about his mother.

“You’ve mentioned in passing that dwarves worship the Earth summon spirit. Gnome, I think his name was?” Colette let out a little huff of laughter, squatting down next to him to watch him arrange everything on the pan and making minor adjustments herself. She didn’t need to ask him for permission to do so. He trusted her. “If Genis were here, he’d have murdered us already. Pair of idiots,” she mimicked his mocking tone, making a silly face, “as he would say.”

“He’s not here, so it doesn’t matter how many names we forget. Seriously, what is the purpose of remembering so many if we’re never gonna meet the face behind them, anyway? I don’t have that much space in my head like that genius has,” Lloyd grumbled, doing the finishing touches. It looked good, the cards sitting in the centre with the flowers lying together at the top, the herbs completing the picture at the bottom. Aesthe... Aesthetic... Aesthetically pleasing? That was the right word that Genis would use, probably...

“It’s fun to listen to the various stories! They’re so interesting! I also think it’s important to know that history, but…” Colette sighed. “I agree. It’s really hard to remember everything, it makes my head hurt. So, what about Gnome?”

“Dad said that underground, all rivers lead to the centre of the Earth, where Gnome is said to reside.” That always created quite a funny image, since Gnome was said to take the form of a giant mole. Lloyd had never seen a mole before. He didn't know what they looked like, so he couldn’t help but substitute the mole for Noishe. So whenever Dad told that story, all he could visualise was an even more gigantic Noishe, sitting in the middle of a sphere. He couldn’t help but crack up, and Dad would give him a funny look every time, not able to glean what went on in his head. “It’s tradition to send offerings or messages down the river so that it reaches Gnome. Instead of conducting a burial as we do here, bodies are also sent down the river.”

“And Gnome as the guardian deity helps to deliver the messages? Much like the Goddess Martel will hear our prayers and answer in some way, or send the offerings we leave at the church to those who have passed.”

“Yes! That’s it! And the herbs are an offering to Gnome. Apparently, he likes to feast on them?” Lloyd replied. "Don't understand why anyone would chew on herbs alone..." Dad had described the experience before - an entire community would gather by the river to send off their blessings, the subterranean caverns lit by luminous moss and the torches set in their sconces on the walls, the ceiling reflecting the river, shining the ceiling in a pale green, wavering light. Afterwards, a festival would be held, where everyone could eat and drink to their heart's content, for the dead would wish for the living's happiness and the living should celebrate. It sounded like a beautiful experience. Maybe one day, he and Colette could witness such a sight too...

Lloyd was, more than anything, relieved to know that Colette understood. As the Chosen, she should have been the one at the forefront of upholding the almighty nature of the Church of Martel, having that duty entrusted to her, but… She had never condemned him, or tried to convert him. In fact, she was the complete opposite. She never shied away from hearing about Dad’s religion from him, always with an inquisitive shine in her eyes.

As for him… He was torn between the two. Dad hadn’t forced his religion upon him or anything. Neither had he been raised under the teachings of the Church of Martel like Colette or even Genis had. But if Colette was the Chosen… then surely the Goddess must exist for the journey she was to undertake to have purpose. That was as far as his beliefs went. He didn’t know the scriptures or the prayers. Didn't have space in his head for that, or the patience to learn them. Honestly, he probably knew more about Dwarven religion than the Church of Martel. Where did that leave him?

“I know you’re not allowed into the sanctum, so I thought we could do this instead. We’re aboveground, so I know it’s not really the same… Sorry if it’s just a stupid idea.” That was all he was good for, after all. Pranks and shenanigans. He wasn’t insightful. Or smart. Or… thoughtful.

“No, Lloyd, it’s perfect,” Colette whispered, placing her hand atop his comfortingly, those gentle eyes fixed on his, calming him down. “I love it. Let’s send it off, shall we?”

“Alright.”

Together, their hands side-by-side, they pushed the pan down the bank. It slid down the mud and onto the river, where it wobbled from side to side, causing Lloyd’s heart to leap into his throat as he lunged forward to save everything on it from a watery grave - only for the pan to stabilise seconds later, the water lapping peacefully at its sides. That was a close one.

Unfortunately, he’d forgotten about the slippery mud and stepped too far, one foot landing in the mud - only for it to send him sliding forward, straight towards the river.

“Oh!” Colette cried, coming to his rescue and pushing him forcefully in the opposite direction so he landed on his back on the grass with a painful thud. At least it wasn’t face-first into the river.

“Thanks for the save,” he muttered, sitting up and rubbing the back of his head, pain blossoming out from where it’d come in contact with the dirt. The fall had been somewhat cushioned by the soft layer of grass that covered the dirt, but his skin was still going to bruise. “Are you hurt?”

“No! I’m perfectly fine. Not a single scratch on my hands.” Colette, whose momentum had landed her on her knees in the grass as well, slowly crawled closer. “You’ve saved me from falling so many times, so I’m just returning the favour! Though you’ve fallen a lot these past few days… Oh no, did I transfer my horrible luck to you?” Colette gasped, shifting her face incredibly close to his in concern, her nose nearly brushing his.

Lloyd leaned back immediately, heart racing at a thousand miles an hour. This close, he could make out everything - the flecks of darker blue scattered throughout her irises, like tiny oceans scattered across a light blue sky, three in the left and six in the right as he'd memorised a long time ago; the small black circles that were her pupils; his own face reflected in her eyes, looking like a deer that'd been caught in the middle of a spotlight. Her eyes almost seemed to draw him in; he could spend the next eternity just looking into them, losing himself in the blue pools...

No! Now was not the time! Lloyd shook his head to break himself out of his trance, turning his head rapidly to the side so he didn't have to look into her eyes anymore. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush… He repeated in his head like a mantra. Would it be effective?

“Probably not.” He stood up, brushing blades of grass off the back of his legs, thankful for the extra distance it put between him and Colette. He’d barely saved himself from turning into a stuttering mess, knocked completely off-kilter by her proximity. Not that that would clue Colette off. She seemed utterly oblivious to all but the most obvious of cues. “I’ve just been a little clumsy recently, that’s all. And your luck is not horrible.”

Lloyd gave an internal sigh of relief for escaping detection once again, scanning the river for the pan. He spotted it some distance away, being pushed along by the current. It was already nearing the bend in the river. Once it passed that bend, it would be obscured by the thick greenery of the forest, whose trees began to sprout out of the ground at that point.

“Over there. See?” He pointed the pan out as Colette stood. It was getting smaller and smaller… “It’s leaving.”

Her fingertips brushed his, an unvoiced invite to hold her hand that he obliged, interlocking his fingers with hers, their palms pressed firmly against each other.

“I hope it reaches them, somehow,” Colette whispered, the words brought by the wind to rest against his heart.

If he was being honest, this was nothing but a foolish dream held by two children at the cusp of becoming adults, where such dreams melted into ashes and were washed away by cynicism. But... it was one he wished could be granted, either way.

“I hope so too.”

~~~

It was peaceful here, every year without fail, sitting before Lloyd’s mother’s grave. The clearing was visible from the path leading up to Dirk’s house, but hardly anyone ever came here unless they needed the dwarf’s services, and those were few and far between. Most of the time, customers appeared right before winter, to hire Dirk to repair any holes and shore up the walls before the cold arrived. The path was barely travelled by anyone, maintained only by Dirk and Lloyd and slightly overgrown. Right now, it was deserted, leaving Lloyd and Colette alone in each other’s company.

The clearing itself was calming, and held its own strange beauty. Anna’s grave was erected in the centre, the words on it having been masterfully carved by Dirk over a decade ago and still easily legible, even after the slow passage of time. A thin layer of moss grew over the top, a result of years of rain and sunshine. Surrounding the grave was a circle of flowers that Lloyd had planted with careful hands to keep his mother company: ranging from daisies to peonies, creating a rainbow whose heads swayed in the wind and kept expanding with each year that passed and each seed Lloyd nurtured with gentle hands. Sunlight filtered through the branches and leaves of the trees that rose into the sky some distance away, forming golden squares that danced across the grass.

They were resting side-by-side on the stools Lloyd had left out here since… forever ago, to give him a comfortable place to sit whenever he came to talk to his mother. The rain from last night had left a little puddle on the seats, which Lloyd had helped tip off onto the grass before inviting her to sit.

Colette rested her hands on her lap, watching the ants by her feet traverse the ground, avoiding the stagnant pools of water in their neverending journey. Lloyd was silent, having clearly said all that he wanted to in his card, and was content to just enjoy the peace.

She was grateful that he hadn’t asked what she’d written, in the same manner she’d respected his privacy. The contents of her letter were… complicated. She loved her mother, but... At the end of the day, she would have to die. What could she tell her mother, then? Even if her mother were still alive, she would one day have to see her daughter walk willingly to her death. Was there anything more difficult for a mother to bear, that a mother would do everything to prevent? Nothing she said would ever take away that pain.

The letter was also a good place to vent. After all, no one alive would ever read it. Even if it did reach her mother, she wouldn’t get a return message. That was a foolish hope that could not be granted, for the Goddess had more important things to do than listen to the selfish request of a little girl.

She had drawn a self-portrait, despite her absolute hatred of doing so. She couldn’t even look into a mirror without that sense of hopelessness bubbling to the surface, attempting to destroy her resolve to go through with everything that was necessary. The only thing that had guided her trembling hands across the paper to do a decent job was the desire to let her mother know just what she looked like. Every mother deserved to know what their child looked like.

Once again, sitting here in the safety of Lloyd’s company, she couldn’t help but feel the ugly flames of envy, licking at the walls of her heart.

Her mother was buried in the inner sanctum of Iselia’s Church of Martel. Every church across Sylvarant had such a room, the grandest, most imposing and lavishly decorated, comparable to none except the prayer hall. It wasn’t decked out in pews, however, but instead with graves, reserved only for the Mana Lineage and… what grisly remains the clergy could find of the Chosens who’d failed to reach the Tower of Salvation. For those who’d been cleanly wiped off the face of Sylvarant, a commemorative grave was erected, the insides utterly empty. Colette had nightmares, sometimes, about being trapped there, alone and unable to breath, the darkness closing in on her as the clergy buried her alive. Just another nightmare from the wide menagerie that haunted her.

The inner sanctum was not to be visited by random strangers, only fellow members of the Mana Lineage, and only on select days where the Goddess’ blessing was strongest, in order to preserve its sanctity. How those days had been decided on, Colette didn’t know. They didn’t feel any different to any other day in the year. But those were the rules, and she was not to question them. Mother’s Day wasn’t one of those special days, so she couldn’t bring offerings on the one day of the year that specially commemorated mothers.

Wasn’t it lonely? No matter how beautiful the inner sanctum was, with its stained glass windows that turned the filtered light into a rainbow of colours, and the chandeliers cut from crystals that reflected the sunlight; it was a cold sort of beauty, enough to make her shiver and feel out of place every time she entered. She was tiny in comparison to her mother’s grave, the headstone in the wall polished and spotless, reflecting her own pale face back at her. There were no impurities or mistakes to be found. It was nothing like the common graveyard right outside the church, which family members of the deceased frequented, bringing gifts and offerings, telling tales of the lives that had been passed while their loved one was absent.

It was nothing like this clearing, so full of life breathed into it by a loving son. Sometimes, she swore she could feel the love of a mother long passed, wrapped around her like a warm blanket, capable of keeping even the most biting chill away. Lloyd must have been able to feel it too, being able to visit anytime, whenever the desire presented itself. Quick and easy, without traditions and regulations holding him back.

It was horrible to feel this way, yet another ugly emotion that she shouldn’t let herself experience. She was meant to be magnanimous and compassionate, with no space in her heart for envy.

Some days she wished she had never been born the Chosen, that her mother had never been part of the Mana Lineage. She didn’t want to be different, didn’t want the “honour” of having an ornate burial ground or special treatment. She just wanted to be able to visit her mother’s grave and tell her mother the most mundane of things: how her day went, the friends she’d made, the dreams she held, the life she would never get to live.

Maybe if she’d never been her mother’s daughter, her mother would still be alive today, smiling and laughing and blessing the world with that beauty Father said she possessed…

“Do you think our mothers can see us, down here?” She asked, leaning her head on Lloyd’s shoulder, wanting to forget the thoughts that swirled in her head like a tornado, overpowering all else in its path. The only thing that could possibly be stronger was Lloyd's comforting warmth, seeping slowly through her from their point of contact. That was a slightly risky move on her part, but they were close enough for her to be confident she wouldn’t accidentally send them both toppling to the ground. She wasn't that clumsy.

“Why not?” Lloyd answered, placing an arm around her shoulder. “Dad believes that the spirits of those who have passed go back into the earth. They form the very dirt beneath our feet, helping to support new life. Wouldn’t they be able to see everything we do, then? And what do you mean, down here?”

“Oh, that’s a really interesting belief!” She really needed to have further discussions with Lloyd about religion. They were always so fun! The Church so often preached that Martel was the only Goddess and believing otherwise was heresy, but she didn’t really believe that. There were so many different groups of people throughout history that had held their own beliefs. They must have believed with all of their heart that their religion was the one true religion.

Lloyd wasn’t raised as a believer. He wasn’t the smartest person, just like her, but he wasn’t irrational. And he would always be her friend, no matter what he believed.

She wanted to keep an open mind - pushing people away just because they held their own set of beliefs sounded like the exact opposite of being accepting.

“Well, the Church of Martel says that everyone who believes in the Goddess will ascend to heaven and become an angel when they die. That’s what I meant.”

“Heaven, huh? Is that in the sky?” Lloyd pointed upwards, towards the cloudless azure sky, the sun winking down at them.

Colette couldn’t help but break out into laughter at that. A ridiculous statement, but one that she’d expect out of Lloyd’s mouth. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be in the sky, but sure! Why not?”

“Well, then your mother should be able to see you. If you’re so high up and you can fly around as an angel, surely you can see everything across the whole world, right? Your mother must be so proud of you.”

“Ah… Really? I’m not smart like Genis or sensible like Professor Raine. I’m not good with my hands like you… I’m just an average girl. What is there to be proud of?”

“Did you forget you’re the Chosen, Colette? You’ll save us all from the Desians someday. That’s plenty to be proud of!”

Her hands clenched into fists as she bit her lip. If all her worth came from being the Chosen… Would her mother still be proud of her, then, when she sometimes wondered what it would be like if that duty wasn’t hers to carry? She was nothing more than a child who wished to shirk her all-important duty, unworthy of the praise everyone showered upon her. She didn’t deserve anything…

How hard it must be for her mother. Once again, Colette could do nothing but make things worse.

“Besides, you’re not average. You’re really kind, and understanding -”

It’s kind of Lloyd, to see good in everything, even her. But she didn’t think those qualities were particularly outstanding. That was just how everyone should be, right?

“ -and you draw really well -”

A blatant lie. It was nice of Lloyd to be so encouraging…

“ -and you’re so pretty…”

Eh?

She shifted away from Lloyd, hands clasped atop her chest as her cheeks warmed. Had she heard right? “What - what did you just say?”

“Ah -” Lloyd blanked, his arm falling uselessly back to his side. He stared at her in silence for a few seconds as his brain caught up to his mouth, which had been running on auto-pilot. An expression of utter horror overtook his face as he shook his head frantically. “I didn’t say anything! At all! Just pretend the last minute never happened!”

“I -” She tried her best to calm her racing heart, taking deep breath after deep breath. It was nothing more than a stray compliment that Lloyd was feeling a little awkward over. That was all. There was nothing more to be found there, nothing to read into. Just Lloyd being his nice self, as usual. “I, uh… Thank you?” But it was common courtesy to show gratitude, as her father had taught her.

“I meant it…” Lloyd muttered, leaning back slightly. He was staring at a single blade of grass with enough intensity to possibly set it on fire, face slowly flushing red.

“Ahem,” Lloyd coughed, refusing to meet her gaze. “To get back on topic, if your mother has become an angel, then won’t you see her again someday? Your actual father is also an angel, isn’t he? So that would make sense…”

“I guess so!” Colette said, purposely trying to inject cheer into her voice. “My job is to become an angel, after all!” Lloyd didn’t know the true meaning behind his words. She would see her mother again, for she herself would soon go to heaven… Would she qualify, she wondered?

It’s not like she even wanted to go… It was said to be an eternal paradise, but how could any place without her friends be that incredible? She couldn’t imagine it. No matter how serene, no matter how fluffy the clouds or how endless the fun, how could it be anything but devoid of soul when she could never know Genis’ wit again, never know Raine’s harsh but fair judgement again, never know Lloyd’s boundless loyalty and his smile again?

“This has been nice. Thank you so much for the great idea, Lloyd! I would have never thought to do this if it wasn't for you,” she said, cocking her head and smiling, hair falling down the side of her arm. Was Lloyd stealing glances at her, or was she imagining it? A bit hard to imagine the way his head kept see-sawing between the grass and her face... But why...?

“Yeah!” Lloyd replied eagerly. “Shall we do the same next year? I’m sure there’ll be a lot more things we’ll want to tell our mothers then.”

Next year… Would she even still be here, next year?

She didn’t want to get Lloyd’s hopes up, not when they could be easily shattered in nothing but seconds. She couldn’t make any promises, for she would no doubt have to break them, but…

Colette took Lloyd’s hand, praying with all her heart that she would see another year, and maybe another after that.

“I’d like that.”

#fanfiction #multi chapter #lloyd irving #colette brunel #colloyd

1 note · View note

ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years

Text

I don’t trust Kat to give you context, so I’ll do it this time.

I decided to write something based on some stuff we were talking about. I don’t have the most confidence and this is more related to her stuff anyways, so while convincing me to post it, she offered to host it here. This has the added bonus of it being HER that hits post, limiting my chance to chicken out.

So enjoy this out of context thing I wrote because Kat is a bad influence.

-grungekitty-77

Eleanor knew she was an artist from a young age. From the moment she took he first picture she knew she’d found her calling. Other girls played dolls, she focused on posing them. She took photos of everything, always looking for something she hadn’t seen before. She got bored often and nothing frustrated her more than having nothing interesting to photograph.

From a young age she was hailed as a prodigy. Her eye was so unique, and she had a knack for finding things and making them interesting, things nobody realized could be that interesting. So, she had no trouble getting a start at a studio.

She hated family portraits. She hated them with a passion. They always wanted the same straight on angle and it was so painfully boring. They were frustrating to work with, they were all the same stiff smiles, one shot no different than the next. No talent or expression. She’d outright refuse them if they weren’t keeping the lights on.

She was ready for another grueling photoshoot that brought no fulfillment and wasted her talents. This family had an unruly kid.

Eleanor never really go the appeal of kids. They were loud and needy and usually a mess. They did provide more interest than their parents though. The boy screamed randomly at one point, much to his parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents’ dismay.

He laughed at their frowns and Eleanor captured it. The emotions and dynamics were the most interesting thing she’d gotten so far.

The boy got lectured by his mom and pouted. The adults were back to their static smiles, but he displayed his emotions, not looking at the camera or standing straight. Eleanor captured that too, focusing on the boy’s emotional journey.

The adults got frustrated with him as he fidgeted, and their smiles dropped. His mother pulled him aside and screamed at him. He shrunk down and started to cry. She captured it.

Then she hugged him, telling him that she loved him and just needed him to behave. Eleanor captured her favorite shot of the shoot. It was a photo she’d have framed and hung in her house for years to come and would be her favorite for a long time.

This child, crying and filled with shame, clinging to his mother, comforted by the very cause of his tears. The vulnerability, the emotions, the submission, it was all something Eleanor hadn’t seen before.

The rest of the shoot went normally, the kid even having some real fun by the end, but Eleanor never forgot how that mother had the power to control her child’s emotions like that.

Family portraits stopped being so boring after that day. Eleanor stopped focusing on trying to make something worthwhile within the stifling constraints, and instead focused on how much power mothers had over the children. How if Eleanor needed something from them, the mother would provide it. Telling the child directly rarely worked but asking the mother to tell the child always did. It was like they weren’t interacting with the world as their own beings, they could only understand what was filtered through their mothers. Eleanor became obsessed with that power. The power to control another’s reality like that. A mother was her child’s whole world, and she could shape that world as she pleased.

Eventually her artistic work gained enough of a following that she never had to do a family portrait again, much to her relief. She hated working through the mothers. She may’ve been fascinating with their power over their children, but she wanted to have her own and constantly borrowing theirs was getting irksome. She wanted to shape her own worlds, and not have to work around the worlds these women had already shaped.

She still didn’t want a baby though. She wanted the control of her subject being a mother brought, not a child to raise.

Her dilemma sent her on a path to find others like her, a path that led to a private online forum. It was full of people like her, people that were obsessed with controlling, with shaping a world and having total power over it. She finally had people that understood what was going on in her head. Not all of them approached it from the same angle as her, but they all wanted to control a subject. She made good friends.

Itssnowing: have you thought about a pet?

SkullsandRibbons: maybe….

Itssnowing: Get a pretty little thing and train it. I know where you can get a lovely little purebred. It might fill the hole.

Eleanor took her friend up on his suggestion and got Lucy.

At first Eleanor was happy to have a new subject, but quickly she got frustrated. Lucy didn’t listen. She couldn’t get Lucy to do what she wanted, and all of her shots were off center or blurry because Lucy refused to hold a position.

Itssnowing suggested she send her off to get trained and Eleanor again, took his advice.

It worked. Lucy came back ready to obey orders. Eleanor was delighted for about a month and a half.

Then Lucy got boring. She looked the same as any other pure breed. She had the same few emotions and responses; the interest ran out. Eleanor ran out of new things to capture. She hated taking repeats of shots she already had.

Lucy was sold.

Itssnowing: Why? I would love having something so pretty in my house. A living, breathing piece of art that’s just for you.

SkullsandRibbons: Why would I want something I can see anywhere? There’s nothing new about it. Nothing unique. Nothing raw! Nothing new to see. It’s boring!

Itssnowing: I guess I’m just boring then. I’d much rather a quiet afternoon at home with a pretty little thing snuggled on my lap.

SkullsandRibbons: Well you’re an office worker, I’m an artist! I need something fulfilling!

Itssnowing: Suit yourself then.

SkullsandRibbons: I’m gonna go to the shelter tomorrow, see if they had anything interesting.

Itssnowing: You want a MUTT!?

SkullsandRibbons: Absolutely! No two are identical. I might actually capture something unique!

Itssnowing: I don’t understand you… but I suppose I don’t have to understand your tastes.

Eleanor laughed at her friend. She shared almost everything with Snowing. He got all the shots she took of her new rescue. He even admitted that the pictures were marvelous, though he still had his own tastes.

Eleanor got bored too easily. She decided to foster, so that she’d get a different subject every once and a while. She definitely preferred the rescues over Lucy. They all had stories and intrigue and were far more dependent on her attention. She could brighten them right up with a little affection, and then destroy them by ignoring them for a minute. Best was that she could do it all over again and it still worked.

But dogs got boring. She needed something fresh, something entirely unique, something that screamed at her to be captured and focused on.

She was browsing the internet one day and a headline caught her interest. She’d vaguely heard about the ninja, but she hadn’t actually seen any real pictures yet, so she clicked the article just to see what kind of pictures it had.

The green ninja made her eyes roll. Scared boy trying too hard to look strong and important and nothing else. A few candid shots had potential, but he seemed to only be himself when he didn’t know he was being seen, which would be pointless to explore with a camera.

The white ninja made her cringe. He had nothing to give. Well, the interesting anatomy could be worked with, but the ninja himself was a stiff subject that had nothing to see.

The blue ninja was all energy, no form. She could probably get some good shots, but it would get very one note after a short while.

The black ninja at least seemed to know how to hold himself, though he didn’t seem to have any interest in being a good subject. He’d make a decent model for brand work, but he’d be worthless in any artistic projects.

The girl was a brat. She refused to be a subject. It was a non-starter.

It was the red ninja that made her stop breathing. Then she boiled over in rage.

He was…He was perfect. He was gorgeous. He had an effortless look with just enough edge to make you want to know more. He was stunning, and the framing was the worst she’d ever seen!

They focused on the complete wrong place, and the lighting was just….oh it burned her. Here was this boy being the perfect subject, all the stars aligned, and the photographer ruined it!

She searched him up, she had to know what he looked like when he was given the attention he deserved.

Kai Smith.

She found his social media and started to scroll through. He posted his own pictures and he had no training in photography, but at least he wasn’t ruining anything. She poured over each selfie. His eyes burned with mischief and passion, his face had beautiful angles no matter which way he turned, and he seemed to love being observed. He was preforming. Giving pieces of himself for others to see. Eleanor continues to scroll and fantasized about capturing those pieces and propping them up correctly. She could make something magical out of him. His expressions told stories, he wore his emotions like jewels and Eleanor had to know more.

She spent the next week obsessing over everything she could learn about Kai Smith, her new muse. And she found something she hated even more than boring subjects, seeing someone mishandle a beautiful subject like Kai.

They all were too focused on Lloyd, who looked uncomfortable half the time he was on camera.

Nya wasn’t always an awful subject; she seemed a lot more willing to be captured if her brother was there with her.

She was right about Cole. He had the training, but no passion for it.

Jay was an attention hog and she found herself annoyed with him. Too overpowering, he didn’t leave the artist any room to work.

Zane was everything she thought he was. No surprises there.

But Kai…

The pictures where he was angry were the best. He had such a raw emotion. He let everyone see how he felt and let the image have the power of what he felt. He let his soul be seen.

She learned all she could about him.

He had a tragic backstory. Something with teeth, no wonder he had a touch of a wounded look. He had no mother to shape the world for him. This interested Eleanor even more. Kai seemed to have filtered the world for his little sister, and seemingly Lloyd too, but he seemed to lack anyone that could reshape his world as they saw fit.

He was wayward child.

The thought made Eleanor smile. Kai had no mother to compete with. There was no woman she’d have to fight with to take control of his world. He was what she had wanted so desperately. A beautiful and interesting subject she could control.

Oh, how she’d love to have him.

#you are completely right I'm a horrible influence #but u love me anyway #also I love it :D #Ninjago #not my writing #Eleanor #it only gets worse from here #:D #ninjago fanfiction #submission

21 notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 5 years

Note

What if dick is de aged just like you said some time ago (back to when he left the manor and he thought anyone would be robin anymore, in robin year one) and Boone find him just like the other guy who id remember his name did. BUT Boone knows Dick, He knows how to control him, and he cares about Dick, so he is in the assasins league, and he has dick... Imagine the batfam fighting back, without even know Dick is a kid again

Its an interesting idea. I’m assuming you’re referring to the original Shrike when you say ‘just like the other guy’ in R: YO. If he was around in the vicinity or keeping tabs on Dick when Dick was de-aged to his YO age, Boone certainly would recognize Dick, of course, I agree - and I could definitely see the scenario you’re describing happening.

It fits his character, and while I don’t know I’d use the term ‘control him’ as being the right fit, lol, mostly because I think many have tried to control Dick and yet it always takes actual brainwashing in order to succeed, Boone would have the advantage of knowing Dick and his mindset from that time and thus how to at least influence him.

One of the things that makes R:YO so compelling to me and why I return to it so often is because its such a fascinating ‘sweet spot’ in terms of where Dick is character wise at the time. Like, he’s only so distraught and runs away because of how much he’s grown to care for Bruce and rely on him and his opinion of him in just the couple of years since his parents died….but at the same time, it is still only a couple of years since his parents died and despite working well with Bruce by the time that story starts, I think he’s still very wary and suspicious of people in general. Still bruised by his experiences and upheaval in the wake of his parents’ death…..and another thing that’s interesting to me about that story is it takes place before Dick’s really even had a chance to form other attachments within the hero community.

As far as I can tell, it was set before he ever met or became friends with Roy, Wally and the other original Titans, and he didn’t even meet Babs until the literal last page of that story arc……so I just mean, he’s still at that time a fair ways away from having recovered enough to become the lynchpin of the hero community he’s often cited as being - trusted and trusting of so many others in turn.

So that makes this scenario interesting to me in the sense that like….time travel or de-aging or in some other way regressing Dick to this specific place and time in his life would inevitably make him a lot more vulnerable to a lot of his enemies, or Bruce’s or villains in general….but it wouldn’t IMO inherently make him more….malleable, or easily manipulated by any of the many, many villains who have tried to turn him to their side in the past. The core root of the conflict between Dick and Boone was always that Boone saw the original Shrike’s interest in them (well, in Boone specifically) as proof that he cared about him….whereas Dick never had any such illusions about Shrike and was always cynical in regard to him and his intentions for them. He stayed at the Vengeance Academy not because he felt he was wanted or respected there, the way Boone did, but simply because Dick felt he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Which I see as likely to play out similarly should most villains happen across a de-aged Dick Grayson and think it was the perfect opportunity to get their hooks into him. He was emotionally wounded, distrusting and cynical at that point in time - even without knowing who say, Slade or Cobb or any of the Court or various other villains were….he’d be wary and resistant to trusting them, or trusting that they had his best interests at heart - because he’d heard that a lot, from a lot of people, by that point, and only Bruce had ever seemed to mean it….and, at this present time, he felt even Bruce had shown that he couldn’t actually be trusted in that regard either….so even with master manipulators who knew his future self well, like Slade….this younger Dick would be waiting for the other shoe to drop, perhaps playing along but far from actually being sold on whatever lies they were telling him.

The part of this ask that really has my wheels spinning, actually, isn’t just Boone himself, but rather all the other villains who might see this de-aged Dick as an opportunity…and totally fuck it up….because I talk a lot about how most of his friends and family members would be thrown by meeting a Dick Grayson of this time, given that their impressions of him based on who he became would not really match up too well with him back then…..but one thing I’ve never really extended that to, is how many villains could be similarly thrown and shoot themselves in the foot by believing that they know his future self well….but that doesn’t mean they know THIS boy, at this particular time. This is before Dick ever even knew the other Titans, which means its yeeeeeeeears before Slade had the opportunity to observe him in person and form his own views of him and his strengths and weaknesses, same with many other villains….

So now I’m picturing various other villains trying to play this de-aged version of Dick Grayson and ending up played by him instead….because all their plans hinge on him being as trusting and optimistic and committed to believing the best of even strangers….that they view his older self as being. Not realizing how much he’s changed between then and now.

Actually, a really interesting thought that just struck me is other than Boone himself, having been friends with Dick at this time, the one and only other antagonist I could see truly having enough knowledge of Dick to take full advantage of his de-aging here, and capitalize on knowing his true state of mind and personality of the time…..is Talia. Given that Talia was the direct contact for the original Shrike, when he was training his students to vet them as potential recruits for the League….so even though Robin: Year One was literally years before Dick and Talia ever interacted in person, or before Dick knew anything about her…..Talia already knew a lot about Dick, just from whatever Shrike told her about his student “Freddy Lloyd” during Dick’s time at VA. Even if it wasn’t until after Shrike’s death and Dick’s return to Bruce that even she connected that Freddy and Bruce’s ward Dick Grayson were one and the same.

LOL sorry to go off on a tangent from your actual ask, was just exploring where that train of thought took me. But yeah, I could see what you’re describing, especially if Dick was de-aged specifically to a time right smack in the middle of his time at VA, so that Boone would have some way of getting Dick to believe that he was the kid Dick knew from that place….but without Dick being aware yet of how things had ended between them or at the Academy as a whole. Because even back then, as much as Dick and Boone were ‘friend-ish’ rivals, depending on your read of things, I wouldn’t actually describe them as like….I don’t think Dick ever actually fully trusted Boone, or vice versa, like, they both had a ‘its a dog eat dog world, and we’re both looking out for number one’ view of things and each other at the time.

So they could get along, and I think there was enough commonality that I use this as the basis for my headcanons about them later in life, where looking back on it, both of them have potential for more….’fondness’ for each other, or at least regrets, because they’ve both experienced enough since then to know how rare it is for anyone to even be able to understand each other at least as much as I think they could……so the key thing to me about Dick and Boone, is most of their potential to me is in them coming to view each other as missed opportunities - both for someone who was really ‘like them/how they’d been then’ to grow into an actual ally or brother-in-arms….and more in Dick’s case, as viewing the other as someone they could have persuaded down a different path than they ultimately ended up on.

Which to me suggests that Boone would have more of a chance of manipulating a de-aged Dick here than most anyone else….but it still wouldn’t be a given, because most of the leeway and emotions I headcanon Dick having towards Boone as an adult are more of an after-the-fact thing…born of nostalgia and regret, rather than because at the time, as kids, Dick fully trusted Boone and vice versa. But again…if Boone played it right, by virtue of being the only one of them who actually knows in this scenario how that all ultimately played out….he could feasibly ‘rewrite history’ when catching Dick up to speed on what their lives had been like since then, and plausibly feed Dick an alternative take on how things ended between them (or didn’t).

Because the other thing here is that I mean, obviously so much of anything to do with Dick and Boone is just headcanoning your ass off, as I’m wont to do, lol, given that Boone is hardly used in canon - but if you’re basing it enough on canon as I like to do….another key thing is that Boone DOESN’T associate with the League of Shadows as an adult….he goes solo before he and Dick ever meet up again in Bludhaven, and is a lone operative/mercenary-for-hire. For some reason or another, even though he went with Talia for training with the League as a kid, by adulthood he’d broken away from them himself, even if we never got the full story on when or how or why. Sooooo….my take on this scenario wouldn’t be Boone manipulating Dick in order to get him on the side of the League….if that were the goal, I would use Talia instead. Boone, IMO, would be more likely to try and convince Dick that its just them against the world, ‘misunderstood’ by both Batman and his later allies and family, as well as by the League and various supervillains. Smack in the middle, only looking out for themselves and each other.

And either way, yeah, Bruce and the rest of the family would have their work cut out for them getting Dick back, because without any memory of Bruce ever coming for him back then and repairing the bond between them, to Dick, all these many successors - many of them having worn the Robin mantle themselves - would give a LOT of credence to whatever Boone told Dick, and make it very easy to spin as ‘proof that Bruce moved on/didn’t care about you/replaced you.’

Thanks for the ask, there’s a lot of food for thought here and a ton of different ways this could be taken and played out! Very interesting to contemplate.

#boone aka shrike

53 notes · View notes

ice-creamforbreakfast · 5 years

Photo

Siblings Interview Tag: Zaid, Farrah, Farid and Khalid Al Farsi (Jasmeen is a bit young for this)

I was tagged by @treason-and-plot several centuries ago! Thank you so much, lovely! My subjects are left to right - Farrah, Farid, Zaid and Khalid. I would like to tag @titosims, @ninjaofthepurplethings, @buckleysims, @anotherplumbob, @mysimsloveaffair, @simsmidgen and anyone who wants to do this! Questions and Answers under the cut.

1. Which one of you is the older sibling?

Zaid: I am, by just over two years.

2. What do you like about your sibling?

Zaid: Farrah speaks her mind and stands up for herself, Farid smart, but doesn’t have a massive head about it and Khalid makes me laugh. Farrah: To be fair, Khalid makes all of us laugh...sometimes at him. Khalid: I heard that! Farrah: You were meant to. Zaid looks out for us all, which is great as I was a mess... Khalid: Were? Farrah: Oh haha...Farid makes me think about what I’m about to do... Farid: Sometimes... Farrah: What is this abuse? ...and he has managed to save me from doing a few stupid things and Khalid is a shit. Okay, I like that he might not be smart, but he knows what he wants and well...not many people do. Farid: Zaid really looks out for me, he’s probably my best friend... Farrah: I’m your twin you gobshite! Farid: Farrah is my evil twin. She’s confident and determined and Khalid is a lot smarter than he thinks he is. He’s growing up to be a really decent guy. Khalid: What they all said. I like Zaid for becoming a doctor so that the rest of us don’t have to. Farrah is great because she doesn’t judge when I screw up... Farrah: No, I just laugh at you and take photos. Khalid: True, you’re a total bitch, but that’s not always a bad thing. I was really shitty to Farid when you know...and he could’ve been an arse about it, but he wasn’t. He’s got balls for just being himself. Farrah: He’s neck deep in them, Khal! Khalid: Nooo!

3. What annoys you about your sibling?

Zaid: Nothing major. Farrah: Saint Zaid! Zaid: Farrah talks over me and Khalid has way too much energy. Farid and I used to put headphones on and lock them out. Farid doesn’t annoy me, but he could be more confident in himself. Farrah: Zaid is just too perfect, What Zaid said about Farid and Khalid...how long have you got? Farid: Zaid doesn’t really annoy me, but he needs to put himself first sometimes. As for the other two..well I think that Zaid summed it up pretty well. Khalid: It pisses me off that they’re all so smart...even Farrah. When she wasn’t sneaking boys up to her room, she would get good grades. I wish that Zaid would lighten up and smile more. No one died. Zaid: I work in a hospital, lots of people die. Khalid: SEE? Farrah: I wish that Khal would stop calling himself stupid. That’s my job.

4. Describe your sibling(s) with three adjectives.

Zaid: Farrah is headstrong, determined and a risk-taker Farid is smart, self-conscious and kind Khalid is active, confident and loud Farrah: Zaid is intelligent, reliable and...boring Zaid: Thanks! Farrah: Farid is quiet, book-smart and a nervous-wreck Khalid is hyper, loud and dense. Farid: Skating over that... Zaid is intelligent, considerate and a good friend Farrah is brash, caring... Farrah: Whaaaat?? Farid:...and independent Khalid is athletic, determined and positive Khalid: Zaid is reliable, smart and...well you can trust him. Farid: Trustworthy, Khalid. Khalid: Yeah, that. Farrah is outspoken, stubborn and well...a bit of a bitch. Farrah: True. Khalid: Farid is helpful, shy and forgiving.

5. What is your sibling’s/siblings’ biggest talent(s)?

Zaid: Farrah is an amazing hairstylist and she has a way of putting outfits together that no one else could do...all with two inch nails. Farrah: Aw you’re so nice! I feel bad for calling you boring! Zaid: Farid has a way with numbers and I haven’t once seen him pick up a calculator. He can also wipe the floor with all of us when it comes to video games and Khalid can destroy anyone at most sports...apart from snowboarding. Farrah: Zaid can shoot juice out of his nose...but he also has one of those crazy photographic memories...he’s such a smartarse. Farid can get away with way more than the rest of us because he looks so innocent. He also finished all of our new videogames by the end of the Snowflake Day holidays. I don’t know how! Khalid can burp the alphabet, which is amazing as he can’t spell...I was once forced against my will to go to one of his football matches and he’s a great player. Farid: Zaid can pick up most books and finish them on that day or within a couple of days. I would get distracted! Farrah was able to sneak boys into her room, past our dad. If you know him, that’s an amazing talent. Farrah: I did offer to sneak you one too... Farid: She did. She’s also an amazing stylist and can fix all sorts of hair disasters. Khalid: Like when I turned your hair blue? Farrah: You’re a little shit, but I owned that blue hair. Farid: Khalid is an amazing football player. Khalid: So Zaid is really smart, like Farid said, he can read a book in a day or two! I can hardly...well I don’t really like reading much. Farrah can drink grown men under the table, it’s crazy! She doesn’t even get hangovers most of the time and Farid can count in his head...well he can multiply and stuff too...I don’t know the names of it all.

6. What is your sibling(s) really bad at?

Zaid: Farrah can’t admit when she’s wrong! She just can’t. Farrah: I’m never wrong. Zaid: What about the time when... Farrah: Shut up. Zaid: Farid is bad at making decisions. He needs more self belief and Khalid is bad at spelling and maths...sorry, Khal! Farrah: Zaid is bad at making jokes. I mean he tries, but he’s not really that funny. Farid is bad at speaking up, so I used to speak up for him whether he wanted me to or not. Farid: You used to say “Farid wants...” to get stuff for yourself. Farrah: A small price for my services. Khalid can’t spell or count for shit. Farid: Zaid is bad at putting himself first and he’s...I mean we laugh sometimes, but his jokes are a bit...stale. Zaid: Thanks... Farid: Sorry! Farrah is bad at letting things go, whether it’s a grudge or a joke and Khalid is bad at reading situations and expressions. Khalid: Zaid just isn’t funny, Farrah is bad at...well she can’t say things in a nice way. Farid: She’s as subtle as a brick. Khalid: Yeah...and Farid is bad at controlling his emotions. He was bawling at something on Jaime’s Drag Race last week. 7. Do you have nicknames for each other?

Farrah: Not really. Khalid is sometimes Khal though.

8. What’s one thing you can do that your sibling(s) can’t?

Zaid: Prescribe medication. Farrah: So serious! I can cause an all out war on M*msnet with a few choice words. Farid: Complete Lubo the Llama 3. Khalid: Only because you hogged it. I can play football without tripping or breaking anything.

9. Did you get along when you were younger?

Zaid: Farid and I have always been really close. Farrah too, but she got really into fashion and we just...weren’t, so she made other friends a lot faster. Farrah: Sometimes they’d lock me out of their room. Farid: You were so loud and you’d ask so many questions and try to style us and dress us up! Farrah: You loved it! Farid:... Zaid: Khalid came along and Farrah hated it! She tried to sell him to our next door neighbour. She dropped him too, but luckily it was only on the sofa. Farrah: I tried my hardest. Khal and I would fight all the time, right up until I moved out, but I wouldn’t let anyone else mess with him. Zaid: Farid and I got on fine with him. Farid would always help him with his homework...they fell out for a bit, but it’s fine now. Khalid: I was a bit of a dick. Farid: It’s fine...we all get on now.

11. Are you closer now or when you were younger?

Zaid: We’re much closer now, but we’ve always been close. Farid: Definitely. Living in different houses is great.

12. Did you compete with each other?

Zaid: No, we all wanted different things. Farrah: Khalid and I would compete for attention. I went from being the only girl to being in the middle when Khalid came along. Khalid: Yeah, she was evil.

13. Which one of you is more likely to turn out like your mum or dad?

Zaid, Farid and Khalid: Farrah! Farrah: True... Zaid: Farrah is just Mum but younger, it’s scary! Khalid: Zaid is kind of like Dad though. Farrah: He is, but let’s be fair, even Zaid has more humour than dad!

14. Which one is most likely to have a big family?

Farid: Farrah. Farrah: What? Zaid has triplets and he’s adopting Lucie! I have Hadi. Farid: Come on, you have Hadi, Harry’s younger brother and sister still live with you...Lloyd and Jelena and you’ve got guardianship of Benny. You’re like Susan Kennedy with fashion sense. Farrah: I’m glad you added that last bit. Khalid: I could have lots of children that no one knows about. Farrah: You can’t get your pillow or your socks pregnant, Khal. Sorry!

15. What is one thing about your sibling(s) that has changed as you’ve gotten older?

Zaid: Farrah has become more responsible and it’s pretty scary! None of us would have guessed that she’d be a mum with a full house. Farid: Yeah, that was a shocker! Khalid has become a lot more mature and handles things a lot better without being... Farrah: A dick. Khalid: Hey...wait, that’s pretty fair. Farid: That pretty much. Farrah: Zaid is toning it down with the career stuff now that he’s a dad. It suits him a lot more and he’s happier. Khalid: Farid is a lot more...well he’s himself. He was always quiet and awkward and he still is, but we know he’s not hiding anything.

16. Who’s better at maths?

Khalid: Farid. Zaid: No competition there.

17. Who is more pessimistic and who is more optimistic?

Farrah: Farid can be a bit pessimistic, but Khalid and I are optimists. I don’t know about Zaid... Zaid: I’m a realist. Farrah: You’re something, but the label fell off.

18. Is there anything you don’t like doing together?

Zaid: Watching TV. Farrah and Khalid won’t shut up. Farrah: I’ll second that, you watch some shit on TV. Farid: Zaid is the only one who’ll really play video games with me. The other two are sore losers. Khalid: I hate playing football with Farid. Farid: I hate playing football.

19. Which one of you do you think will get married first?

Zaid: Sophie and I are engaged, but Farrah and Farid aren’t far behind! Farrah: Don’t scare me, I’ve had enough commitment to last me a lifetime recently. I wouldn’t discount Khalid, he could surprise us with Edyta...if she gets her act together. Khalid: No comment. Farrah: What’s that meant to mean? Farid: He’s already married. Farrah: WHAAAT? Khalid: I’m not...but Farid is taking Drew to Champ Les Sims to propose... Farid: Shut up. Farrah: Tell me everything.

20. Lastly, how often do you argue?

Zaid: Farid and I don’t really, but Farrah likes arguing. Farid: I’ve had a few arguments with Khalid too. Farrah: Khalid is a dick. I grew up with three brothers. It was a shitshow and they all annoyed me. Can you blame me? Khalid: Yeah, I can. Farrah: Shut up, Khalid.

#sims-for-breakfast #simsforbreakfast #ts3 #the sims 3 #ice-creamforbreakfast #khalid farsi #zaid farsi #farrah farsi #farid farsi

23 notes · View notes

cookiedoughmeagain · 6 years

Text

Lloyd Segan, Executive Producer: I think one of the most important aspects of being an executive producer on a show such as Haven is the selection of the director. The director is really the person that, whether they are the visiting person for the very first time and has to get used to a whole new situation, or someone who’s a veteran director, it’s a very important choice; it’s a very difficult schedule and very few directors are qualified to do that. And so part of my responsibility is to help facilitate the selection. And we’ve been very very blessed with some extraordinarily talented directors.

Adam Fratto, Co-Executive Producer: We all look closely at the reels, at previous episodes of directors; we want to make sure they have the right approach for the material. And then we always call and check them out. We want to make sure that we’re working with people who are reliable, and decent, and fit the sort-of family atmosphere that we have going on in the crew.

Lloyd: A great example of a repeat director, someone who we’ve had the pleasure and privilege of working with now over quite a number of years is Lee Rose who is directing this episode, the finale. And we chose Lee for this episode specifically because of our history with her.

Lee Rose, Director: I’m fortunate enough that this will be my third episode directing Haven. So I know everyone and sort of know the trajectory of the show. My relationship with Lloyd and Shawn and all the guys is great. I’ve delivered for them so they trust me, they’re friends of mine, we have a shorthand with each other, there’s no power play; it’s just ‘we want the best show possible’. Which is really, essentially what it should always be and doesn’t always end up that way.

Shawn Piller, Executive Producer: I can defer to her on certain things. Certain things I definitely won’t; things I have responsibility for. You still need a producer to help, but with her, we have such a shorthand and we’ve worked together enough times that she can pick up some of the slack on her episodes. It just takes longer to build up that trust and that shorthand that Lee and I have. It’s a major advantage to me and to the show.

One of the most important pieces of production, from a creative standpoint as well as logistically, is cinematography. Eric Cayla is not only an artist but ends up becoming the core constant on the set. Directors come in, directors go. Writers come in, writers go. But every week, at the end of the day there’s the crew, led by the DP.

Eric Cayla, Cinematographer (aka Director of Photography): The main work of the cinematographer is the lighting, that’s why we say painting with light. So I do all of the colouring with lighting, the contrast with lighting, lighting interiors, exteriors; controlling the image. And I’m also working with the director on shots; how we’re going to move the cameras, the angles, the choice of lenses. And I also direct the crew, the grip, electrics and camera crews.

Shawn: I had the pleasure of working with Eric Cayla for the last season of the Dead Zone in Montreal and he just wowed me from our first meeting and he has this French, European, East Coast feel to him, which is perfect for Haven.

Lee: We sort of bounce off each other; I’ll tell him what my notion is and what I think the shot is for the scene, and he’ll say, ‘Well what about this’ or ‘We can’t do that because of this’. Eric and I became very close on the first episode. It really is a sort of symbiotic, siamese-twin kind of a relationship for me with DPs, if they’re good. So it’s a true partnership. On set it’s the biggest partnership for me.

Eric Cayla: Since I’m constantly on set, I can’t be there to scout the locations.

Shawn: He’s got a team of people that help us with our tech scout. And they represent his interests when he’s on set shooting and can’t come to the scout, they go and check our homework and say ‘oh yeah so we’re here in the morning, the crane’s gonna be here’.”

Eric Cayla: As much as we can, on this kind of show (which is very fast), we go through either pictures that they take and bring on set so I can look at them, or in meetings during lunch time, we work through all the locations of the next show to come. It’s fast-paced, you know.

Sam Ernst, Executive Producer: The actors are learning a lot in the finale. They’re learning where we’ve been going this whole time.

Emily Rose, “Audrey Parker”: I usually try to call up one of the show runners, as well as the writer on the episode, and say ‘OK, this is what I’m thinking regarding the episode, but before I do that, what’s important to you thematically? What is the thing you’re trying to stress?’ Nine times out of ten, I get something new, a fresh perspective on the story. Or, if they’re going in a direction that’s kind of opposite of where I feel Audrey is, it allows us to kind of connect.

Lucas Bryant, “Nathan Wournos”: Because we shoot out of sequence, you know like now we’re shooting the climax of the finale on the first day of shooting the finale. Ideally, I draw a little trajectory of what is going on, where I am over the course of the episode, you know: happy, sad, angry, in love, why, so that I can refer to that easily when I’m shooting scene 25 I can look at a note that says, ‘You just left the house, you were pulling your pants on, you were very upset because…’ so you know exactly where you are because as I said we’re shooting out of sequence and it can be ridiculously confusing. But to be honest a lot of it is seat of your pants, you know because we’re shooting so quickly and the turnarounds between scripts are so quick that often it takes everyone to remind us what the heck is going on, you know, ‘Where are we? Did I know that he was the bad guy?’.

Emily Rose: The luxury with film or theatre is you get a lot of time to rehearse and we do not. And it’s also getting changed frequently, or we’re changing things or we’re trying to make things fit and work. So we try to either run lines with each other, or step aside and talk about the scene and run it again, or really guard that time of just trying to run it as much as possible. We initially always go ‘OK so what happened right before this? Where am I emotionally with this? Is there anything subtextually we could put in to our relationship or where we are?’

Lee Rose: For an episodic television director, you are a guest artist. Yes, it’s your job to bring to screen what someone else has put in front of you. But it’s not your medium in the sense that it’s not your final say; it’s the showrunners, the executive producers.

Sam Ernst: In television, the director’s there to effect the vision of the writers. In movies they’re there to effect the vision of the directors, using the script as a springboard. And that’s a big distinction. And the reason being that we have lots of directors and there has to be one unified vision for the show.

Jim Dunn: There’s a whole week of prep before we begin shooting. There’s one key meeting that happens in that part of the process, which is the tone meeting with the director. The idea is to let the director understand what the intent of each scene is, what the characters are feeling and why. But if we can really connect with the director about it, so they understand, they can then answer questions that production has on set.

Lee Rose; On the day of shooting, every day you get out of the van and you go ‘how do I regroup now?’ because that’s essentially what it is; narrowing what you want, as opposed to what you get. I know because I love editing and I’m pretty good at it, I know what I need to cut and what I can get away with not having if we get into trouble, if we’re rained out, if something happens; you have to be prepared to punt at all times.

Eric Cayla: The greatest challenge and sometimes frustration, is the time. It’s so fast to do a 45 or 44 minute episode of that scope, of what has to be done and achieved in a 7 day shoot, and sometimes even 6. So you have to shoot fast, and well. And there’s always a compromise. We do as much as we can in 7 days and I must admit, it’s gruelling.

Emily Rose: The biggest challenge of being an actress on a TV series is just trying to maintain your stamina and your energy and your health and your mental wellbeing.

Lucas Bryant: Pacing. Longevity. Maintaining my greek-like physique. [laughs] Er; yes, yes, and no. It’s a marathon; knowing how much energy you can afford to use every day or every week to get through each episode. Because you finish one and it’s a big sigh of relief and maybe you finish it on a tuesday and wednesday morning you’re starting the next one.

Emily: The most rewarding part to me is hopping on twitter or hopping on any sort of review and seeing that the fans really connect with Audrey, you know. ‘Oh my gosh that scene was so great’ or ‘I wanna hang out with Audrey’. I feel like that’s a success because I feel like, ‘Good, I didn’t just look like I was memorising my lines and I didn’t know what that Trouble was about.’

Eric Balfour, “Duke Crocker”: The reward of being on a television show is hands down the camaraderie of it. It’s the family of it. Me, Lucas and Emily have I think (I hope they’ll agree!) have formed a really amazing bond together. And, we film in rough conditions here; it rains, it snows, it’s cold. And so this crew, they work their butts off. Everyone can see when someone’s having a hard day, or sick. There’s been days where everyone on the show’s had to work when they’re sick and not feeling with and everyone, you know ‘Hey, can we get you some tea? You wanna sit down? Hey let me get that for you.’ It’s a neat place that way.

Eric Cayla: The love of making shots, and the love of lighting. And since the locations are great; beautiful locations, so inspiring. And the camera crews, they’re fun to light. And then using the medium of film too, as a cinematographer it’s fascinating because you have to be much more instinctive since you don’t see the result on set. You have to rely on your instincts, and knowledge. It’s much more creatively challenging. And rewarding once you’ve got results that are really satisfying. That’s a fun way to work, I find.

Lee Rose: What I love most about directing is the challenges you face every day of having to creatively solve problems. And a lot of them. You have a hundred people coming up to you asking questions and you’d better have an answer. So I find that that puzzle making for me is interesting as a director. And I’m engaged by the creative process. So I’m engaged by crew members or DPs that have ideas, or are excited by my ideas, or actors who are there to just lay it all out on the floor when you’re there. So, that’s why I keep doing it, thirty-some odd years later.

#haven syfy #haven dvd extras #haven season two extras #directing cinematography acting

4 notes · View notes

ookamihanta · 7 years

Note

i absolutely in love with bruiseshipping too! And I was wondering why you like them so much? I just love how their character developments involve one another!

//breathes inSorry for any spelling errors. Im writing on mobile.

I’m leaving this TL;DR version here.IM A SUCKER FOR BEST FRIEND TROPES AND STRANGERS/RIVALS/ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE.I really, really like the way Cole’s and Jay’s relationship is handled too. Since literally, s2-5ish does many things centered around their “rivalry”.

But before that, they’re best friends. They’re best, friends. Meaning they have a level of trust and companion ship that are a little more than what they have with the rest of the team.

And what i find really damming about the start of their developing friendship in the beginning, is that the show tries to make the whole s3 love triangle thing into their fallout. Into their whole, “ i hate them so much because __ ” kind of thing. (Which is usually a situation that both characters misunderstand and thus leads to drama.)

Many ppl have pointed out before that the s3 love triangle shit actually strengthens the ship and I agree. Jay has the misunderstanding that Cole is trying to date Nya when he’s really not and Cole is simply mad at Jay for assuming so. (This problem is also, pretty much Nya’s fault anyways so uh-)

This leads to a rivalry part of the story as the two “try to win Nya’s heart” when really, it was A) Cole trying to prove Jay is an asshole for assuming Cole would ever want to be with the girl his bEST FRIEND likes and B) Jay trying to prove to Nya, or more likely himself that he is the better suiter for her.

Either way, this goes on for a while. A whole seasons worth, which means we get plenty of scenes where the two display their feelings about each other. When Lloyd goes around trying to get the team together, Jay’s and Cole’s reasoning for not wanting to go back is literally because they do not want to see each other; when in fact it’s later revealed they wanted to apologize to each other sooner.

But ofc, they’re both stubborn af.

So skipping to the scene which I like to call “ the moment bruise really fucking solidified for me ” scene.

Here, Cole and Jay have been bickering for a shit ton now, and are finally able to unleash their emotions through fighting each other in the tournament of elements.

It’s shown that even though they are furious at each other, there’s a peice of them that truly missed the other and their friendship. (As we could see in the 10sec of them warming up for the fight before seeing the photo of one another and realizing that they are going to have to fight their BEST FRIEND).

They may act like they hate and want to fight the other, but really, they realized they’ve dragged on their silly misunderstanding for so long that they’re not sure how to fix the things they broke.(They’re friendship ofc)

So when they actually go to fight, they end up just confessing their true feelings on the fucking spot(like okay???). Cole is def the more mature one so that’s why he was the first to say “hey maybe we should stop cause i care about you bro”.

And the lines they say to each other is what REALLY got me attached to them.

They are, and I quote, “ I never meant to hurt you, Jay. If I knew it would ruin our friendship, I would take it all back. ”

MEANING, COLE LITERALLY PUTS HIS BOND WITH JAY, OVER THE GIRL HE (POSSIBLY?BUT NOT REALLY) LIKED.

then jay fUCKING GOES TO SAY :“ Well, if we’re being honest. I was upset about losing Nya, but I take blame for that. I was more upset about losing you. ”(thATS FUCKING GAY JAY.)

So what Jay’s saying is that he knows the reason why Nya left him was because he overreacted to the whole “perfect match thing” and that he takes HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH COLE OVER HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH THE GIRL HE’S HEAD OVER HEELS WITH.

That is some motherfucking shoujo bullshit right there.

Cole even says he wishes they would of just talked it out earlier instead of being stubborn and refusing to get along, even though they both know that they’re both in the wrong.

(Random irrelevant fact here : Jay’s VA says he believes Jay and Cole have the strongest relationship on them team (when concering Jay’s relationships). This is also, ironically, confirmed by Tommy Andearson as well. Jay’s VA also accidentally said without knowing that he ships Bruise Lmao)

Now that they’ve kissed and made up during the tournament arc, it’s obvious their friendship is back to what it was. Terrible jokes, teasing, always there for the other, support, and just genuine appreciation of the other’s presence??

Which is shown with Cole in s6 when he’s stuck on the island with Nya and Lloyd. He says and I quote, “ I was just wondering what Jay would say. ” and proceeds to do the best impression of Jay ever. This tugs at my heart strings a little simply because the 3 are literally stuck on a island right now. And all this dude can think about is Jay.

(Also irrelevant canon here : Remember when Jay sat on Cole’s lap and asked him to do something and fucking pulled out the best friend card? Yeah, me too)

Let’s not even start on DotD. That shit made me almost shed a tear with these two.

Let me start by saying, wow, someone at the production studio must have a soft spot for these two or some shit cause there’s a lot of small Jay/Cole interactions that I really appreciate.

1) When Cole lost control of his vehicle, Jay was the one who went to go help him first. He was the one who was ahead of everyone fyi while Cole was the last.

2) Jay was the one who reacted the MOST when he remembered about Cole and frankly, was probably the most surprised he forgot him.

3) THE SCENE WHERE EVERYONE THOUGHT COLE DIED BASICALLY AND JAY SAID “ Oh no! Cole’s gone forever! I’d do anything to have him back! ” MAKES ME WEAAAAK. He looks like he’s about to fucking cry. And Jay is literally the only one to have canon crying scenes. 1)Him smelling apple pie 2)Nya dyingWHICH MEANS COLE’S DEATH(Lol not really) HAS JUST AS MUCH OF A EFFECT ON JAY AS DID THE GIRL OF HIS DREAMS DYING IN HIS ARMS.

I haven’t watch much of s7 yet, but all I’ve really seen is that Jay and Cole are partners. That’s all that really matters.

(Random irrelevant fact here : That moment when Nya literally said that Cole and Jay belong together)

(Another random irrelevant fact : There’s the perfect screenshot of Jay producing lightening in the shape of a heart in front of Cole somewhere and is def some sketchy proof that an animator for Ninjago has a thing for Bruise)

Anyways. Yeah. That was long but I really do love bruise with all my heart. It’s funny, I can write a 10pg essay about my otp, but not for school. Makes sense.

So @ the lego ninjago movie :From the trailers and screenshots, I see you guys have a thing for glaciar but for my peace of mind, pLEASE have a scene where the awkward Jay tries to have a conversation with the almost moody and mute Cole. Because their relationship is gOLD.

72 notes · View notes

lico-butterflyeffect · 5 years

Photo

The one you are looking for is you. あなたが探しているものは、あなた自身である。 https://littleglamazone.tumblr.com/post/187485326174 ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169978053507682304

--- Everything in this world has Love within, no exception. So everything in this world has [ God = Love ] within. And that's why when you Love yourself, that's Loving God at the same time, when you believe in yourself, that's believe in God at the same time https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1157425475246936064 . And you need to remember that when you Love yourself, you're Loving God = Nature = Whole = The World = Universe at the same time even though that's invisible, you can't see it with your eyes but God can see it with His eyes, He knows it because He is within you (at the same time He is everywhere, He is Whole) first of all, so you don't even have to feel guilty when you try to Love yourself https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1014610691938906112 . Sometimes you need to choose yourself or others, but you gotta choose yourself, and others got to choose themselves because each one of us is only responsible for ourselves because when we take care of ourselves, that's taking care of The World including ones you love and others at the same time (Your loved ones can't be Happy if you are not Happy. Same thing, The World can't be Happy if you are not. Your loved ones and others are included in The World / Whole; The World outside of you, everything you can see with your eyes is The World already, and at the same time The World / Whole / Universe / Nature / God = Love is already within you: We all are connected. Seriously. That's why some people say that I am you, and you are me, those animals are me, ocean is me, trees and flowers are me, every single one on the entire world is me, same thing, God is me, Nature is me, Universe is me and you are God https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1024692014732857344 ). I know that some times people don't like that you are Loving yourself and kind to yourself because those people can't help feeling [Fear=Ego] thinking you may don't Love others and you may be not kind to others and start to say that you are irresponsible not Loving others because they only think with their [Fear = Ego] (of not being Loved) and they can't see The Truth that Loving yourself effects The World / Whole directly. So don't be afraid of what people think, you need to be standing tall always to Love yourself knowing that you are Loving yourself to make The World / Whole / Universe / Nature / Love=God Happy at the same time. Then, those who couldn't see The Truth will become able to see The Truth eventually (Trust Him, He is taking care of them as well as He is taking care of you) and they will become able to set themselves Free and Happier just as you became with Loving yourself https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1073535159012474881 . So you don't even have to prove yourself or worry about them https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/957438363388207105 ; You just need to know that they are Loved by God / Nature / Whole / The World / Universe as much as you are Love by God, in every moment. So just focus on Loving yourself so that you can make both yourself and The World / Whole / Universe / Nature / Love = God at the same time. Always, always, always, Love yourself enough to be True to yourself to be YOURSELF, because being yourself is your calling, being yourself is what you were called to be here for.

I'm not here to fit into your world. I'm here to make my own. http://whisper.sh/whisper/0518c931c6933114379333d0a2c65e94fde35b/Im-not-here-to-fit-into-your-world-Im-here-to-make-my-own ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169978069320228866 私は、あなたの世界に自分を合わせフィットし・他人の作った型に嵌るために、この世界に生まれて来たのではない。私は、（【自分のルール】で生き）自分の世界を造るためにここに来たのである。 http://butterflyeffect-blog.seesaa.net/article/World-It%27s-like-water-surrounding-you-When-you-move-in-it-it-changes-its-shape-to-fit-you-Remember-you-can-even-fly-in-the-water-World.html

Have the courage to be disliked. 嫌われる勇気を持て。 https://bruwho.tumblr.com/post/187521842939/seen-at-sighhumans ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169978072088506369

If it comes let it, if it goes let it. https://mysteelecreek.tumblr.com/post/186582962455 もし来るなら、来させなさい。もし去るなら、行かせなさい。（来る者拒まず、去る者追わず）。 ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1007967182385340416

How difficult it is to be simple. - Vincent Van Gogh https://zsazsabellagio.tumblr.com/post/187493828898 シンプル・完結・単純にする / なるというのは、なんと難しい事だろう。 - ヴィンセント・ヴァン・ゴッホ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1090246330922893312 ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169978076198912004

To learn Simplicity to go with The Flow of Nature / God = Love / Whole / The World / Universe to Evolve / Rise / Prosper, learn from Nature, Animals or Babies / Children, or to Love is The Best way. - Lico ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169978079827001344 進化・上昇・繁栄するために、自然・神様＝愛・全・世界・宇宙と歩調を合わせその流れと共に進んでいくために、（「Fear 恐れ＝Ego エゴ」の思考などの「余計なもの」を削ぎ落とした）シンプルさ・単純さ・簡潔さを学ぶためには、自然や動物、または赤ちゃん・幼い子供から学ぶ、または（自分の愛するものを）愛することが、最も良い・最高の・最善の方法である。 - Lico

--- It is The Best way to learn Simplicity; The way of being of This World / Nature / Universe / Whole / Love = God is observing Nature: learn from Nature, learn from Animals, or learn from Babies / Children because they are living as a part of Nature / Whole / [ Love = God ] without trying to be = without [ Fear = Ego ] , without knowing, with just being themselves https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1014207542916833280 . Some people think that Nature or Animals, Babies / Children are inferior to Human / Adult but actually they aren't; They just are Perfect to be themselves to take their own responsibilities https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1166136475479445504 for being a part of Evolution of This World / Whole / Universe / Nature / Love=God, they are superior for going with The Flow of Nature to evolve happening Naturally, not being against with their [Fear = Ego] to it. https://twitter.com/Gentleman_2017/status/995013025097703424 . Remember, also Nature, Animals, Babies / Children has Love=God within, no exception (That's why God has everything under control, everything in this world is He / Him / His https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1155651835111170048 ).

You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop. - Rumi あなたは、海の中の一粒の滴なのではない。あなたは、一粒の滴の中に入っている海全体＝全てを持った海そのものなのです。 - ルーミー https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1157425475246936064

Observe the wonders as they occur around you. Don't claim them. Feel the artistry moving through and be silent. Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form. - Rumi https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1154891953655308288 あなたの周りで不思議な事・奇跡・驚くべきものが起こる時に注意深く観察しなさい。それが「ありのままであること」に、それが「起こるがままに起こったこと」に対して、それを「起こらなければよかった」と否定したり、それを「（Ego エゴ・個・分離である自分の思い通りに）変えようとする」事で、ケチをつけ文句をつけたりしないように（「裁く（エゴ）」「否定する（エゴ）」「責める（エゴ）」ような事をしないように）。起こった事をありのままに、ただ、その出来事を通じて芸術的な動き・その「完璧（愛）」さ感じなさい、そして、静かにしなさい・言葉を用いずに黙っていなさい。深く悲しみ・悲しみをいつまでも抱えたりしない事。それが何であれ、あなたが失うものは、別の形であなたの元へ返ってくるのだから。 - ルーミー https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1003559290618036224

I believe in God, only I spell it Nature. - Frank Lloyd Wright 私は神様を信じているよ、「神」を「自然」とつづるだけでね。- フランク・ロイド・ライト https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/943955963454750720

Study Nature, love Nature, stay close to Nature. It will never fail you. - Frank Lloyd Wright https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/943957196844318720 自然を勉強しなさい、自然を愛しなさい、自然の近くに居なさい - それは決してあなたの期待を裏切らない＝必ず役に立つ。 - フランク・ロイド・ライト

Look deep into Nature and then you will understand everything better. - Albert Einstein 深くよく自然を見るんだ、そうすれば全てをより理解できるようになる。 - アルベ��ト・アインシュタイン https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/943951570714030080

Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous. - Albert Einstein https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1020254804285710336 偶然・偶然の一致・同時発生とは、神様が自分の存在をアノニマスにしておく・名前を伏せたままにしておくための彼のやり方なのである。 - アルベルト・アインシュタイン

There are only two ways to live your life: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle. - Albert Einstein https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1020257398928302080 人生には二通りの生き方しかない。奇跡など全く起らないかのように生きるか、ありとあらゆる全てが奇跡であるかのように生きるかである。 - アルバート・アインシュタイン / アルベルト・アインシュタイン

To Love is to reach God. - Rumi 愛すること（本当の愛で： Unconditional Love 無償の愛・無条件の愛）は、それ即ち、神様へと到達することである。 - ルーミー https://www.quotesdeep.com/2019/03/06/rumi-quote-about-love-lovequotes-rumiquotes-inspirationalquotes/ ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169979006977888257

The Ego is a veil between humans and God. - Rumi https://www.instagram.com/p/Bu7DGFqFcaJ/ 「Ego エゴ・個・分離・分離という勘違い / 誤った認識から生じるエゴ特有の感覚であるFear 恐れ」は、人間と神様の間の・両者を分かつ「ベール（薄い布・紙一重の境目）」である。 - ルーミー ★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169979008403927045

★ https://twitter.com/Lico_Tweeting/status/1169978053507682304

#Life #Love #Nature #Generosity #Believe #Trust #Confidence #Strength #Kindness #Respect #Calm #Freedom #Happiness #Zen #Karma #Faith #Dreams #Rise #Success #Goals #LOBA

0 notes

gentleidealist · 7 years

Text

Oh Rangetsu Style --

Beneath the cut is a slightly-edited Skype RP between myself as Lloyd and @formsix as Rokurou.

What happens when an advanced practitioner of a two-blade style meets a less experienced one ...

Vicious K: Rokurou beams Vicious K: “What fighting style is that?” he asks Lloyd. Jishin: Lloyd beams with pride. "Mostly what I taught myself, with some of what my dads taught me, too."

Vicious K: “So it’s your own style?”

Jishin: "Mhm. There really wasn't a martial arts school in Iselia. But you've got a style, right?" He wouldn't be asking Lloyd about his if he didn't.

Vicious K: “You bet I do! The Rangetsu style, passed down for generations in my family.”

Jishin: "I've never heard of that one before." Is it story time? He settles in attentively.

Vicious K: “That’s not surprising. I’m from pretty far away. But still—to master the style, you have to be able to use short blades just as well as long ones,” he says, gesturing at his back. Rokurou draws one short knife, flips it cleanly, and presents the hilt to Lloyd.

Jishin: A knife? Lloyd's interest is piqued. He accepts it with a careful "thank you" to let Rokurou know that he's got a solid grip on it. "Isn't it hard to reach your opponent with something this size?"

Vicious K: Rokurou grins widely. “Not if you get reaaaally close.”

Jishin: "But you gotta go through them to get there." Lloyd doesn't have daemon resistance to pain.

Vicious K: Rokurou, who thought that shoving his palm through Shigure’s entire sword like an idiot was an acceptable response, “Sure, but that’s part of the style. Learning to look for opening, create them when there aren’t any…go for it anyway….”

Jishin: "I guess so, but wouldn't that make your practice sessions really short sometimes?" He rubs the back of his neck.

Vicious K: “How so? Because we get hurt?” Grins, but a little softer. “That’s part of training too. Adapting to whatever happens. You won’t always be in perfect condition during a fight, right?”

Jishin: "No-o, but ..." That feels kind of like making sacrifices, somehow, and that troubles Lloyd in a way he can't verbally express. "It doesn't seem like good practice if you get hurt."

Vicious K: “Then don’t get hurt. Simple as that,” he says. With five brothers, he’d learned that lesson fast.

Jishin: Well, that Lloyd can do. Or at least he thinks he can. "So it's really just about being creative."

Vicious K: “That’s right! The style would never be able to grow if we did the exact same things over and over again.”

Jishin: "I get it." He nods enthusiastically. At least, he thinks he does. "Can I see what it looks like?" He shifts to standing, the short blade in one hand.

Vicious K: Rokurou draws his second blade and mirrors Lloyd. He meets the eyes of the younger swordsman with a nod. He says, “Form One,” and snaps into position.

Jishin: "Form One," Lloyd echoes, and adjusts his position until it mirrors Rokurou's as best he's able. Feet spread and stable, hands low, eyes on his teacher's face.

Vicious K: “Elbow,” Rokurou says, tipping his head at the angle of Lloyd’s arm. “Fix it—there you go.” He shifts his stance. “Variation on Form One—good for fighting armor.”

Jishin: He quickly nudges his elbow back where it belongs, and follows into the alternate form. "The angle is more from underneath for this?"

Vicious K: “Yup.” he pauses, then swings fast with his armored right hand as if to catch Lloyd’s ribs. He’s not holding a blade, but he moves just as if he is.

Jishin: ( Okay real quick -- is Lloyd playing the student-with-greatsword part in this kata, or is he also intended to be dual-wielding? ) Vicious K: (Rokurou intended to show him the dual wield, albeit each only has one blade at this exact moment. and if he catches Lloyd off guard, that was also part of what he was intending. he remembers training with his older brothers vividly.) Jishin: (Okay. -nudges Lloyd- how good are you at visualizing both blades when it's the opponent who has them? it's easy to lose track of one, I've been there. -ponders ponders- ) Vicious K: (for reference, i assumed lloyd would hold the blade in his right, so rokurou used his left to be a mirror)

Jishin: The look of realization flashes across Lloyd's face in an instant. Backing up is not an option; he's a little too close inside Rokurou's reach. He rolls his wrist, turning the short blade over to catch the incoming "sword" on its flat. The left blade should come any moment in a pincer -- at least, that's what he'd do -- so he ducks under Rokurou's arm and to the outside.

Vicious K: He’s used to opponents trying to get their space back, and he does his best to crowd Lloyd, pivoting quickly, granting his back to Lloyd for the briefest second, before landing himself right in front of his new student again. He says, “Form Two!”

Jishin: Dammit! Not enough time to poke Rokurou in the back. Of course, he's spent his life at that -- and much longer than Lloyd, so he can't really be frustrated by it. "Form Two!" He scoots back enough so that he can actually see Rokurou's full stance as quickly as he can, knowing that if he doesn't get it right and fast, that blade will be coming back at him.

Vicious K: “Good!” Rokurou says. He freezes in the form for a split second, long enough to see Lloyd’s eyes focus, then lunges forward, direct, and fast, this time with the real knife.

Jishin: Focus, yes, for that split second, and then Lloyd's eyes go wide. Rokurou is fast and strong and he gets one flash of a gleaming daemon eye. Stepping in to block Rokurou's overhead drive will impale him on the nonexistent blade, and Lloyd's first instinct is never to back up.

Arm extended over his head, he catches the cut on the edge of his own sword, then relaxes his wrist so that the pressure from Rokurou's cut makes the incoming blade slide down his own, away from his body. Here he can sidestep to the outside again, and does, hand extended as if to poke Rokurou in the ribs.

Jishin: (as I totally rip this off from an iaido kata I know) Vicious K: (i’ve used ballet for so many things, rip off to your heart’s content) Jishin: (I know. But Rokurou is supposed to know more than Lloyd, so.) Jishin: (this kata) Vicious K: (ooohh nice, thank you) Jishin: (no problem!) Jishin: (obviously it flows a little differently if you're dealing with two blades, but the object is always to get where they can't stick you) Jishin: (in this case, instead of going for the overhead cut, he's using his left hand to poke at Ro's ribs) Vicious K: (that suits Ro just fine 8)) Jishin: (he'd have stepped to the outside of the hand that's coming over the top -- so to Ro's left)

Vicious K: Rokurou’s daemonic eye seems to glow briefly. Lloyd is learning fast, but his old habits still urge him to get away from Rokurou. He’s used to opponents who avoid scratches. Can’t have that. No pause this time, as Rokurou twists his torso sharply and shoulders forward with the heavy guard towards Lloyd. He pulls his blade in close—he won’t actually gut Lloyd, but the form is there.

Jishin: Shit! The shorter blades are more maneuverable than Lloyd's used to, and he freezes with the pinprick of it just above his navel. "I see what you mean," he mutters, a thin trickle of sweat sliding down past his ear.

It's practice, he trusts Rokurou. It might be a foolish mistake, but Lloyd grabs for his teacher's wrist with his empty hand, trying to push it down and away from his vitals. The resistance is tremendous; Lloyd isn't sure if daemons are supernaturally strong, or if that's just Rokurou. He needs more leverage, and shoves inward with the rest of his body weight. It puts him inside Rokurou's guard — not a safe place to be given Rokurou's other free hand — but with his own blade loose, he's got options. In fact, that partially-exposed armpit looks like an option.

Vicious K: “There!” Rokurou says, “that’s the Rangetsu style!”

Jishin: Crammed inside Rokurou's guard (and liable to be squished at any moment, he thought), Lloyd looked up at him. It would be easy for the daemon to read the barely-controlled fear in the teen's eyes, although there was a solid core of determination as well.

"The Rangetsu style is crazy." He's breathless and laughing and not quite sure which way is up right now, but he's still keeping a sharp eye on that live blade.

Vicious K: “It’s why we’re the fiercest swordsmen,” Rokurou says. “And that’s just the close range style.”

Jishin: "You've got a long range style?" He's momentarily confused. "I thought you were swordsmen." Not like Alvin, who blended the two.

Vicious K: “I’m no bowman, mind you,” he says, “but did you think the swords on my back were for show?”

Jishin: He shook his head vigorously. "No, I've just never seen you use that one." The big one.

Vicious K: “That’s because we haven’t gotten to Form Nine yet.” He grins down at Lloyd. “In the past, Rangetsu swordsmen used one set of blades or the other. But I created some variations that incorporate both.”

Jishin: A short blade and a long one — the idea is captivating, now that Lloyd's had the chance to think about it. His own paired blades keep him limited to a particular range; the shorter one has a flexibility he hasn't experienced before. "I can't wait to see those."

Jishin: (my Lloyd, apparently, is not particularly hung up on 'my way is the best way' ) Vicious K: (Rokurou’s having this moment of A)never thought I’d be able to pass down my new and improved Rangetsu style and B) if i teach it to Lloyd, does that mean i expect him to strike me down one day ) Jishin: (Lloyd would never.) Jishin: (dishonor on the Rangetsu, I'm so sorry. ^^; ) Vicious K: (I can’t wait until Ro gets to explain that aspect of his family to lloyd)

Vicious K: “We better get you a set of short blades, then.”

Jishin: "Okay!" He's got a little spare gald saved up, he can do that.

Vicious K: (Ro’s already thinking, if Lloyd really throws himself into studying the style, I could ask Kurogane to forge him a proper set.)

Vicious K: With that, Rokurou leads the exit from their spar, stepping away from Lloyd and inclining his upper body in a practiced bow.

Jishin: (and the anchor gets lighter, whoops) Vicious K: (ooooops)

Jishin: Oh. Yes. Bows are important. Lloyd's is not as practiced or comfortable, but he improvises as best he can. "Thanks, Rokurou."

Vicious K: “Don’t mention it, Lloyd”

Jishin: Lloyd is just going to quietly buzz with excitement right now. Rokurou can watch him doing minuscule motions that echo the movements he's just learned.

Vicious K: Rokurou wonders if his brothers ever felt—pride?—like this, after teaching him. He never got to teach anyone the Rangetsu style

Jishin: Something Rokurou could have asked Shigure, but ... well, things happen.

The question from Lloyd is completely innocent, as apparently he's been turning over the small discussion they had earlier. "You're not going to get in trouble for teaching me, are you? I know it's your family's style."

Jishin: (Realizing that Lloyd may erroneously conclude that Rokurou comes from a family of daemons) Vicious K: ( o m g )

Vicious K: “Probably not…since I’m the only one left in my family line. So I guess that means I get to make the rules.”

Jishin: "Oh." His face falls instantly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- "

Vicious K: Rokurou shrugs. “Don’t worry. It’s just how it is.”

Jishin: "O-okay." Lloyd's still a little worried he may have said the wrong thing, but Rokurou seems entirely calm about it. He tracks back to what is hopefully more cheerful. "Like adding your own techniques to the school.”

Vicious K: “Exactly. That’s why I have to keep perfecting it.” He’s used to the startled tone in Lloyd’s voice—he can barely remember ever feeling that way. It’s just how his family was. It’s a little late for him to feel upset about it.

#formsix #verse: into Desolation #t: oh rangetsu style

3 notes · View notes

goron-king-darunia · 4 years

Link

The Tales games are some of the best to come out of Japan, though some of the mainline games are better than others. Here’s our ranking of the best Tales games.

=======================================

Annon-Guy: Found this a while back.

Bet you disagree with what the ‘worst’ title is though.

======================================= GKD: It’s gentler to DotNW than some other rankings I’ve seen. I tend not to trust people that like Vespiria best “because the writing is good” to like DotNW at all because they’re looking for some VERY different things in the narrative than I am and most definitely will not like Emil as a protagonist if they like Yuri as a protagonist. I agree that Abyss belongs pretty high on the rankings along with Symphonia and I agree with the rankings of the other games I’m at least aware of (I haven’t played most of the titles yet but I’m planning to and know a decent amount through osmosis.) Most people that don’t like DotNW tend to have the same few complaints: “Lloyd bad? No! GAME BAD!” Like... Lloyd stans, I love y’all, but I know a fair chunk of people refused to play the game because they heard Lloyd was the villain and instead of going “that’s not Lloyd, Lloyd would never do that, I wonder who it actually is or if we’re playing as the real bad guys.” a lot of them went “That’s not Lloyd, Lloyd would never do that. Therefore the game is bad for implying Lloyd is any different than the Lloyd I loved playing as.” This ties into the second group of people that don’t like DotNW for the “nostalgia goggles” reason. Symphonia was probably their first Tales game and they loved it so much that this game not being everything they wanted out of a sequel made them so disenchanted with it that they can’t enjoy the parts of it that make it a separate game and just see all those parts as “places they could have made it MORE like the game I loved” instead of “Ah yes, the new content that’s good on its own and is kind of ruined by the fact they tried to cram the old cast in here for me.” Then there are the people who hate the mechanics which is... fair but... unless a game’s mechanics have made it impossible for me to do something because of a poorly timed button press (see the rope swinging levels of Wind Waker which were easy for me as a kid and make me want to scream as an adult with slower reflexes.) I’ve never hated a game for the mechanics alone. If people find the game unplayable or unpolished because the mechanics don’t gel or aren’t intuitive? That’s fine. That’s just not something I’ve ever had a problem with before. Then there are people who hate the story. These people and I will never see eye-to-eye because apart from a few unanswered questions, which kind of leave intrigue more than frustration, Marta’s development being completely shoved into the journal and a few skits, and some of the best content (the Alice and Decus and Richter sidequests) being too easy to miss, the story is one of my favorite things about the game if not my FAVORITE thing. Maybe they like the plot to spell everything out for them. Or maybe they like even more vagueries. Maybe they want more twists like in Symphonia. Maybe they want a straightforward narrative and hated the plot contrivances. I’d be curious how the haters of DotNW’s story would react to the original Baten Kaitos and the prequel Origins, because I think it would be about the same. I think Symphonia lovers would like BK but not Origins and DotNW lovers would like Origins and either dislike or just kinda enjoy the original BK. And then there are the people who hate DotNW because of Emil. And again, I don’t think I’ll ever see eye-to-eye with them. Emil’s development as a character is almost perfect to me. IDK if people just happen to prefer silent-protags with snarker options like some of the new Links from the Legend of Zelda series, or just hated having to play in the shoes of someone who wasn’t always heroic, but I honestly LOVE when a game doesn’t give me just a cookie-cutter protag like Lloyd. If a game wants the protag to be a version of me? Then I want things like the Elder Scrolls where you can customize a fair bit about your character including the dialogue, even if it’s just window dressing. If the game wants me to play as a character they invented? I want that little bugger to be interesting. I want to get attached. And DotNW does that for me with Emil. Baten Kaitos did it for me with Kalas. I don’t need them to be perfect. I need them to be interesting. I don’t need them to be my mouthpiece, I need them to be fun to watch. Sonic the Hedgehog is a perfect example of that. Sonic’s personality is completely independent of my actions in the game. He’s a free-spirited 90s kid who likes to go fast, though his exact aesthetic seems to update depending on the demographic playing since he wasn’t always a 90′s kid aesthetic. XD To me, the entire point of DotNW is watching Emil grow (it would be nice if it was about watching EVERYBODY GROW, like Marta and Richter and even the original cast.) Having Emil start out as a whimpering little “coward” and watching him grow as he learns more about himself, the world, and how he fits into that world is so good. Lloyd was always kind of cut out to be a hero especially because the plot bent around him to ensure basically anything and everything he wanted was “the right choice.” Lloyd never had to change. He never had to grow. He stuck to what he believed and made the world change around him. I guess that’s powerful to some people, believing they can change the world and are already perfect as they are. But Lloyd never struck a chord with me the way Emil did. And before I started liking Colette more, Zelos was my fave from Symphonia because he WASN’T PERFECT but also wasn’t a shitty dad like Kratos. XD Emil was WAY more captivating and engaging because HE HAD TO CHANGE to make the world around him change. He had to go from being Ratatosk - a powerful summon spirit, alone, depressed, enraged, vengeful, completely broken after what happened to him - to a human boy - timid, weak, but caring an passionate - and then spent the entire game becoming a synergy of those two aspects. Merging the best of both sides into something BETTER. Perhaps getting closer to what Ratatosk was before his tree died. Mithos did say that Emil’s kindness and Ratatosk’s strength and confidence are what he remembers most about the original Ratatosk. So Emil might not have gotten fully back to that, hell he may NEVER be that Ratatosk again, but the fact that he PUT HIMSELF BACK TOGETHER AT ALL, the fact that he didn’t have to become unkind to be strong again and the fact that he didn’t have to stay weak to keep his kindness was VERY POWERFUL as was the message that kindness is a strength of its own, maybe even more powerful than physical strength, because it’s only when the characters show each other kindness that things really seem to change (and kindness takes COURAGE which as we know is the magic that turns dreams into reality.) Like... the game was SO MUCH MORE about emotional beats. So as much as I like the original Symphonia, the OVA is WAY better because Lloyd actually has a bit more personality and HAS TO CHANGE if only a little bit, though he still has MASSIVE plot armor. DotNW might fair better as an OVA since it could linger on the emotional aspects I liked a lot more and it might provide that separation for people who just hated DotNW because it “made them play as a sniveling brat.” And then there are people that hate it for the monster-catching thing. Which was like a bonus for me because I love Pokemon but like... if you don’t like catching Monsters then just... don’t? I sucked at catching Monsters and I still got strong enough that the later half of the game was manageable my first time around. If you don’t like your “worse version of Pokemon” then just... don’t use that mechanic. You can level up enough by grinding like the original Symphonia to get strong enough for the rest of the game. I’m sorry you joyless people don’t like adventures with cute critters. The monsters, other than Richter and Emil, are my fave characters in the game because they’re ALL SO CUTE! XD But yeah. These aren’t all the reasons I’ve heard, and just because I disagree doesn’t mean they’re not valid reasons. Liking or not liking DotNW is an opinion and everyone is allowed to have an opinion. People can like what they want and dislike what they want. So I was glad to see an opinion piece that didn’t eviscerate DotNW off-hand (some critics never even played the game and this person at least seems familiar with the controls so they played at least a bit.) It’s still always sad when people don’t like DotNW, and it’s especially sad since a lot of DotNW’s fans are the JP audience that I can’t talk to very easily because I’m an American idiot that only speaks basic Spanish and only knows minimal Japanese from being a teenaged weeb. But I’m happy that at least this particular critic recommends the game for Symphonia fans, even if they didn’t like it themself. I’m also very happy that Bamco made it a main title and not a spin off so it’s canon now and people can stop saying the game doesn’t matter or doesn’t count because they didn’t like it. I’m fine with them still hating it, but they have to at least acknowledge that this is a story the developers wanted to tell in line with the main series and not just “something they made because Symphonia made lots of money.” I do think that DotNW would have done better with the USA and European audience if the team had gone with their original idea and set it far enough in the future that the Symphonia crew wasn’t there or that only the half-elves and possibly Lloyd and Colette (or Zelos since he’s technically an angel too) were there. Emil’s story, Richter’s story, and (the good parts of) Marta’s story are all interesting enough that they could be told without the Symphonia cast being involved at all. That being said, I LIKE the old cast being there. But because they had to change the old cast to fit the new narrative, I know that it disappointed a LOT of people who were expecting “more of the same” from the old cast and didn’t get it. So while I love the game as-is and wouldn’t change it, if it had been released according to the original vision and NOT had the original Symphonia cast in it, I think it would have been at least a little bit more well-recieved.

#submissions #submission #DotNW #opinions #long post #Letters from Annon Guy #I got nothing against Vesperia fans #It just never captured my heart the way DotNW did #but maybe I should give the remaster a play and see if I like it more?#IDK it's just a weird trend that a LOT of Vespy fans don't seem to like DotNW AT ALL

0 notes