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98prilla · 5 years ago

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I Won’t Say I’m in Love

I had an idea at 2am that Janus sarcastically asks Roman to marry him during arguments, but each time he asks he means it a little more until he realizes he’s completely in love with Roman, until he can’t stand the rejection anymore and runs away because Roman would never believe him if he admitted his feelings, only for Roman to come after him and propose instead.

This isn’t quite that, though it is in a similar vein. I started with that idea and it evolved into this. That being said, if anyone wants to take the original idea and run with it, feel free, just remember to tag me!

AO3

...

The first time he asks, he doesn’t mean it in the slightest. They’re in the middle of an argument, him and Logan against Roman and Patton, Virgil staying out of it, either because he didn’t have an opinion or he didn’t want to get involved.

“Roman, you’re absolutely charming right now. Won’t you marry me already?” He snaps, breath hissing in and out, and everyone freezes at his comment. Roman’s face has gone red, from anger or embarrassment, he can’t tell, but the longer the silence goes on, the more he feels his own shame at his words burning at his throat. “sorry. That was… out of line.” He mumbles, adjusting his capelet.

“I apologize, also. You are correct, I have not been my most… chivalrous, this afternoon. Perhaps… perhaps we should all take a break, to calm down. Then we can work out a… compromise?” Roman says, face flushing redder at the question in his voice. The moment is broken by Virgil slow clapping from the stairs.

“Wooow, both of you apologized and Princey suggested a compromise? It’s a miracle!”

“Yes, thank you, Virgil. Your sarcasm had been duly noted, and disregarded. Now. Don’t come get me when we’re ready to start over.” He comments, popping back to his room before anyone else has time to comment.

…

The second time, he’s had a bad day. He feels heavy and disjointed, not all there, not all focused. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, he just knows he didn’t sleep well and he can’t seem to get comfortable, so he forces himself out of bed and down the stairs, dragging his blanket behind him, before collapsing on the couch. It’s almost 1pm, far later than his usual first appearance in the commons since the whole wedding debacle, since he was accepted, truly, since he was welcomed.

He doesn’t remember drifting off, but he shoots awake as he feels a hand on his shoulder, letting out a small groan, having flung his arm over his eyes at some point.

“What on earth could possibly be important enough to disturb me for, Roman?” he asks, wincing at the pounding that has started near his temple.

“Are you okay?” He snorts at the question, rolling his eyes as he halfheartedly glares at Roman.

“Just peachy.” He snarks, and Roman backs away, hands in the air. He can feel Roman’s eyes on him as he left the room, and sinks deeper into the couch. He’s surprised when a moment later, Roman returns from the kitchen, sitting down next to him.

“Alright. Here you go.” He looks down at the table, a bit confused.

“What… is this?” Roman looks at him, lip quirked up in a half smile.

“Well that, is a glass of water. And that is something for the headache you’ve got cooking in your noggin. And those are crackers, since you have not eaten anything all day.” He looks slowly up at Roman, eyes narrowed.

“I am not sick.” Roman’s eyebrow raises.

“I did not say that. You, however, just did.” He groans, sinking even further into the blanket, so his eyes are just barely visible.

“I do not get sick.” He mumbles.

“Of course not, bananaconda. Now take the medicine.” He sighs, but complies, drinking the rest of the water and nibbling at some crackers as well. He barely notices Roman getting up, coming back a moment later with a Gatorade, and dimming the lights. He breathes a sigh of relief as some of the pain dissipates.

“God, I could marry you right now.” He mumbles, finding the Gatorade is cold, and he lets Roman rest a cold rag on his forehead.

“I think the fever’s getting to your head, Jan.” He doesn’t reply, just hums and closes his eyes, trying to squash down the warm, fuzzy feeling starting to grow in his chest.

…

The third time he doesn’t say it. He’s in his room, relaxing in his plush desk chair. He’d been doing a color by number, choosing whatever color he wanted for each number instead of going by the recommended color chart.

He hears a knock on his door, and gets up, confused when he sees no one there. Then he looks down, and sees a small gift basket, wrapped in a red ribbon with a small card printed with Roman’s logo. He rolls his eyes, and brings it inside, smiling as he unpacks it.

There’s a collection of lotions, each of which smells deep and heady, just the kind of scent he loves. There’s also a few moisturizing oils, for his scales, which he’s a bit grateful for, he can tell his shed is about to start and making his own was a bit of a hassle. He laughs at the small snake plushie, but drapes it across his bed’s headboard anyway, smiling fondly as he leans against the bed for a moment, before his eyes widen and he nearly slaps himself.

No. no no no, he cannot do this, he cannot do this to himself, he will not be so stupidly naïve.

He is not in love with Roman.

…

The rest come in small moments of delight, of happiness, moments where he forgets to deny himself what he cannot have, when he cannot squash the fondness inside of him, when he forgets to push down the silent, useless emotion he refuses to give credence to.

Playing Mario Kart, and he exploits every loophole and shortcut, strategically laying bananas, somehow always avoiding the blue shell when he is in first, slowing down enough someone passes him and gets hit instead, Roman cursing his skill, every time demanding another round, both of them grinning and sweating by the end of their tournament.

…

Roman gets up early one morning, makes breakfast. When he comes into the kitchen, Roman slides a plate of waffles, covered in homemade whipped cream and chocolate shavings in front of him, along with a coffee filled with the perfect amount of froth, a heart patterned on it. His own nearly stops, breathless.

“Morning sleepy serpent.” He mumbles something, heart stopping at how beautiful Roman looks, still in his pajamas, hair sleep mussed, but eyes bright, light from the window shining onto him as he turns back to the stove, flipping pancakes, humming, then singing, belting out showtunes. He catches himself almost sighing at how sweet Roman’s voice is, before he snaps out of his trance, just barely getting his emotions under control as Patton comes barreling down the stairs, summoned by Disney and the smell of pancakes.

…

It’s a late night, they’ve had a movie marathon and the others all turned in hours ago, giving up one by one, Virgil the latest to leave. He is debating the morals of Disney characters, tearing apart the heroes and defending the villains.

“How was he to know that toys are alive? He was using his creativity, to combine and make new, original, toys! If he hadn’t been traumatized by Woodie and Co, maybe he would have ended up an engineer instead of a garbage man.”

“Ugh, fine! You have me on that one. It’s technically Pixar, anyway.” Roman mutters, and he laughs. “Since you concede there, I’ll give you Scar.” Roman looks at him, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Seriously? I figured you’d defend him to the death.” He shrugs, yawning.

“Mostly due to the cut song where he tries to… let’s generously call it ‘woo’, Nala, which is why she leaves to find help in the first place. Plus, he never really wanted change or peace, he just framed his alliance with the hyenas in that manner to gain control. Besides, everyone knows it’s better to be loved than feared. If you really want complete control, make every choice seem like their own, make every action seem benign or like a favor. Get what you want by making it seem like what the people want.” Roman is staring at him, agape, and he flushes.

He winces, because of course he ruined this, they were having a moment, and he ruined it. “… I’ll give you Ursula, if we’re counting cut scenes. She was technically overthrown and banished by Triton, though she did nothing wrong. Her vengeance is a bit extreme, but she at least had good reason for it, and really only wanted what was always supposed to be hers.” Roman answers after a moment, and he nearly sighs in relief, though he gets the feeling they were both talking about more than just Disney villains.

He’s absolutely mortified, and not at all the least bit pleased when he’s awoken the next morning by Virgil, smiling smugly at him, having fell asleep, head resting on Roman’s chest, Roman’s arm around his shoulder, a blanket pulled up over the two of them. He certainly strives to make sure it never happens again.

…

He's a mess. A miserable, stupid, mess. He can't stop thinking of Roman, can’t stop striving for his smiles, the soft, fond one he receives in moments of quiet, the bright, mischievous one that brings out his dimples, the small, confused one when he didn’t understand why he was pulling away. His laugh, loud and ringing, the nicknames bestowed upon him at every chance, the small, subtle touches that sent his heart racing and his mind into overdrive and he was burning, aching, from want.

The desire to run his fingers through Roman's hair, to feel his hands around his waist, to kiss him until they were both silly from it, to say every sweet word and guileless truth about how absolutely perfectly stunning Roman is, to defend him and his ideas, to protect him from his own self doubts and negative thinking, to repair every crack he himself had made in Roman's armor, to apologize a thousand times until the side knew he absolutely truly meant every word of flattery he had ever said.

He hisses at a knock on his door, drawing back into the shadows. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, he doesn’t want to see anyone, he just wants to wallow in his misery until this wrenching heartbreak goes away and leaves him alone! It’s no use, wanting something he can’t have. He won’t lie to himself and say otherwise.

“Kiddo? You okay?” Patton, who can probably feel his emotional distress from miles away.

“I'm fine.” He forces out, wrangling his voice into some sense of normalcy, wincing at the acrid lie on his tongue. He can feel Patton's hesitation, but the fatherly figure sighs.

“Alright. But Jan? If you decide that you’re not fine, you know I’m here for you.” Then Patton walks away, and he’s only mildly surprised to feel wetness dripping down his cheeks.

“I’m fine.” He whispers, curling in on himself, choking on tears. “I’m perfectly fine.”

…

Day three is when it all falls apart. He hasn’t left his room, he hasn’t moved much from his curled up spot on the floor, and it hurts why does it still hurt?

He thought if he just stayed away, if he put distance between himself and Roman, if… if he detoxed it would go away, these pesky, useless feelings would go away!

But they haven’t. They’re still pounding away with every beat of his heart, and he’s half convinced it would be better to just rip the stupid thing out than let it make such a fool of him.

He knows limits. He understands them, he knows how far he can push the others before they start to break, he knows how much to push to make them give, he knows how far he can push before things start well and truly crumbling to ruin, and he knows, better than any of the others, his own limits.

He knows what he can and cannot have, he knows how to be selfish without taking too much, and he knows this is something he cannot take, something he will never be given. He’s still the serpent, after all, still the liar, still the deceiver, still the snake in the grass, waiting to strike. He’s said I love you a thousand times to Roman, meant it more and more with each iteration, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Not by Roman, whom he had broken so badly not so long ago, accidently, yes, and he had apologized, but still. He’d known how fragile the ego was, how tightly he was clinging to the final thread, and he’d still cut the strand without a second thought. He’s not to be trusted, least of all by himself, even his own heart has turned against him.

“Janus? Can I come in?” He freezes at that voice, it makes his stomach sink and his pulse race and he feels a strange sense of vertigo.

“No.” He says, as deadpan as possible, as much emphasis as he can, and he can almost see the frown on Roman’s face.

“You haven’t been out in three days. Are you sick again?”

“I’m fine, Roman, go bother someone else!” He spits out, anger creeping into his voice, because Roman is the source of this festering wound, even if he doesn’t know it. If he’s angry, he won’t be sad, angry he can do, angry he can fake as well as anyone.

“no you’re not. I’m coming in.” He curses, lunging to his feet, but the door is already open before he has even a hope of locking it, and he and Roman stare at each other for a silent moment, before he looks away, biting his tongue. “Jesus, Jan. What happened to you?” He winces, knowing he must look a mess, knowing his hair is tangled and wild from running his hands through it so often, his face is a mess of dried tears and dark bags, his clothes are rumpled and wrinkled and his normally immaculate room is a bit dusty.

“Nothing. Now go away.” He demands, turning to stalk to his desk. He feels a hand on his shoulder, warmth blooms down his arm, and he inhales sharply, turning and actually slapping Roman as he stumbles back, barely aware of the tears streaming down his eyes, because this is so goddamn hard. “Don’t. Don’t touch me, Roman.” He spits, venom in his voice, eyes sharp and fangs sharper. He hates this, hates playing this part again, but he needs Roman to leave.

“ok. I’m sorry, I should have asked.” He chokes on his bitter laughter because damn it, Roman is the perfect gentleman, isn’t he? He’s stepped back, hands raised in the air, the only thing on his face concern, not anger, or fear, or pain at the handprint still red across his cheek. “please, Janus. I know you’re hurting. I just want to know why, I just want to help.” He laughs this time, a wild, harsh sound.

“That’s cute, Roman, but this isn’t one of your fairy tale quests where you rescue a damsel in distress. This is real life, with real problems, and maybe, for once, you should let it get through your thick skull that this ISN’T ONE YOU CAN FIX!” He screams, letting his words be cold, letting them be cruel, as he crumples to the floor, heaving, gasping in air through the shaking sobs squeezing tight his chest. “you can’t fix me.” He whispers, not caring if Roman hears, because what’s the point? He’s a pathetic, mewling lump, and surely after that display Roman will leave, warned off by his extremeness.

“Janus.” He flinches at his name, whispered so softly, so gently, almost holding the thing he wishes more than anything his name would contain, coming from Roman’s lips, but that hope is a lie, a deceitful, monstrous lie, just like the rest of him. “why do you think you’re broken?” He doesn’t answer. He won’t answer, he won’t say it aloud, not now, not when Roman will see how much he actually means it. He squeezes his hands into fists, forcing his chin up, forcing himself to glare at Roman.

“You should leave. Before I answer that question honestly.” He bares his fangs in a snarl, gold covering his pupils, racing throughout the room, lighting it up with a thousand pretty little lies that echo in Roman’s ears, telling him exactly how worthless and useless and pathetic he is, and he hisses for good measure, standing and sauntering over to Roman, leering at him.

“I’m the dragon guarding the tower, I’m the hydra fighting Hercules, I’m the snake here to lead you astray, I’m the villain, I’m the bad guy, I stand against everything you’ve ever believed in, little prince. You’d be so easy to dispose of. Then who could stop me, hmmm? No one. I could kill you right where you stand, and no one would ever know a thing, my greatest performance would be replacing you. Or do you forget what I am, Roman, what I well and truly am?” He stands back, fangs sharp as he grins, letting out a dark, sinister laugh, one that reverberates off the walls, and something is breaking inside him, something is cracking and crumbling and he hates himself, hates every moment, but if Roman hates him, too, then he’ll just go.

“Janus.” Roman says again, so soft, and his grin falters, his mask slips for a moment before he rights it, scowling as Roman steps forwards, undaunted, something strange in his eyes, something soft and worried. “you don’t have to do this.” He stumbles back at Roman’s words, shaking his head.

“stop.”

“I know you’re afraid. That’s why you’re doing this, you’re scared, and that’s ok.” He’s shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut, trying to push back the tears.

“Stop.”

“I know you don’t mean it, Jan. And I won’t run away just because of a few threats. I want to help you, I want to be there, I want you to trust me enough to tell me what is hurting you so terribly… please.” He feels Roman’s hand on his, and he jerks back, hitting the wall, eyes snapping open, breath coming in short gasps, and he wraps his arms around himself, shaking.

“STOP IT!” He shouts, voice breaking into a million pieces, and the gold vanishes, his façade crumbling, only raw emotion left in his voice. “Stop caring, stop asking to help, stop acting like you’re my friend, stop being kind, stop being so fucking nice to me, stop getting inside my head, stop making me feel happy being near you, stop sending butterflies winging through my stomach, stop making me smile, stop making me laugh, stop being so fucking incredible that I can’t help but love you!” He screams, jabbing his finger into Roman’s chest with every word, tears falling down his face as he finally says it, all the fight draining out of him as he collapses, empty, caught by Roman, who lowers them both gently to the floor.

He doesn’t have the will to pull away from Roman’s all encompassing embrace. He doesn’t have the strength left to silence the tears, to force Roman out, to go back to being alone.

Shame curdles in his stomach as he breathes in Roman’s scent, lilacs and sweet summer breezes, as he melts against Roman’s chest, as his hands fist the fabric of Roman’s shirt and he sobs, hopelessly sobs, because this is an empty victory. Once he manages to pull away, he’ll see the pity and disgust on Roman’s face, and this, this will be well and truly over.

“I’m s-orry. I’m so, s-so s-sorry, I didn’t mean f-for this to happen, I h-hoped it would just go away but they won’t, and I’m s-sorry…” he gasps, shaking, exhaustion cresting over him, and despite himself the ache is being soothed, because Roman is holding him, and then he just feels sick at his own selfish want.

“Oh, my little mocking jay, why didn’t you just say something?” He laughs at that, throat raw and scratched.

“because then you’d know. And it would all be over, anyway. You don’t love me, you could never love me, I’m not nearly good enough for you, I’m not good at all, really. I’m not… I’m not what you want, Roman. I can never be what you want me to be. And I just… I just keep hurting you.” He whispers, heart shattering a little more as Roman pulls back, and he closes his eyes, taking a huge breath in, trying to control the crushing, plunging depths of his despair.

“Janus. Who says you aren’t already exactly what I want?” His breath catches at Roman’s words, at the tenderness they hold, at the painful hope blooming in his chest. He trembles as he feels Roman rest a hand on his scaled cheek, gently stroking the scales with his thumb.

“don’t lie to me, Roman. Please, I can’t… it already hurts so much, I can’t listen to you lie to me.”

“Does it feel like I’m lying, dearest?” It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. Slowly, he opens his eyes, meeting Roman’s worried, soft… loving… gaze. “I love you, Janus. You’re funny, and smart, and I love your sarcasm, your half awake morning bedhead, how you gesture when you’re passionate, how all your emotion lives in your eyes.” Roman murmurs, a small, warm smile on his lips as he moves his hand, stroking back a stray piece of hair. “I love you for so many miniscule reasons it would take me a thousand thousand years to list them all. I would have told you sooner, darling, but I didn’t want to pressure you, not while you were still settling in.”

“Roman…” he says weakly, he’s so flat out tired, so worn down and hollow and empty that he doesn’t even know what to say, what to feel, except this warming in his chest slowly spreading to the rest of him, making him feel lighter than he had in ages.

“come here, dearest.” Roman says, and he can’t help but collapse into Roman’s lap, letting the creative side pull him close, pressing his head against Roman’s chest, more tears slipping out as he feels Roman gently stroking his back, cradling his head, murmuring soft assurances and words of gentle warmth, and repeated, wonderful, ‘I love you’s’ that ring true every time, and all he can do is keep clinging to Roman, praying he doesn’t wake up from this dream.

Then Roman tilts his chin up, his pulse jumping at the touch, then Roman’s lips are on his and he melts at the explosion of warmth and color and light sparking in his mind, and he’s pressing forwards, desperate, and Roman is soft and warm and perfect and it’s everything, it’s everything he’s wanted for so, so long now.

When they finally break apart, he’s breathless and flushed and the broken emptiness is almost gone, almost fully replaced with hope and love and light, and he laughs as Roman sweeps him off his feet, holding him bridal style as he showers his face in small kisses, each one making him flush redder and redder, until he yawns, despite himself.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are my affections boring you, pretty little liar?” Roman teases, and he grins, nuzzling against Roman’s chest, letting out a soft breath that seems to untie the last lingering knot in his chest.

“Obviously. What a trial.” He mumbles, feeling Roman stroking his hair again, realizing his eyes have slipped closed.

“When did you last sleep, mi amor?” He shrugs, he doesn’t know, honestly, and now that Roman is holding him, it’s the only thing his body wants, it takes everything in him not to just fall asleep now. “alright. Let’s get you to bed then. We can talk more in the morning.”

“stay. Please.” He asks, nearly begs, eyes flying wide with sudden fear, suddenly sure that if Roman walks out the door, he’ll wake to find he was dreaming, because there’s no way this is real, no way Roman loves him.

“of course, little hisser. I wouldn’t dream of leaving my beloved alone and unprotected from any foul nightmares that may come his way.” Roman soothes, sliding into bed with him still in his arms, immediately spooning gently around him, and he shifts closer, closing the little space there was left between them, until their legs are entangled and his forehead is resting in the crook of Roman’s shoulder, and Roman’s arms are around him, and he’s still holding tight to Roman’s shirt, feeling him exhale against his cheek.

“I love you, lovely. Now get some rest.” And finally, he does.

#roman sanders #sympathetic roman #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides #minor virgil appearance #minor logan appearance #minor patton appearance #pining #self esteem issues #deceit angst #some angst #some fluff #Happy Ending #rociet #roman x deceit #soft boys

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chocolate-parfait · 4 years ago

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Hiii! I saw that your requests are open, and I want to ask for a Mozart scenario 👉👈. MC/Reader (whichever you prefer) has gone back to her time for a long time (even tho she wasn’t planning for long) but when she comes back she also has Mozart’s kid in her arms (but everyone knows before him coz he is obviously at his piano lmao). So the residents plan to surprise him? If it’s too specific feel free to ignore this. Make sure you sleep sufficiently and drink some water😗😗 thank u in advance :)

Sorry it took me so long! I barely had the time to sleep this past month😳 I hope it was worth the wait-

A gift from Fate - Ikemen Vampire (Mozart)

“I don’t think we should listen in on them...” The cherry haired man whispered.

“Shh Ai-chan. Mozie-kun might hear us!”

“Tofu lover here is right, old Newt. And how could we pass up a chance of seeing that cold-hearted wolf shed a tear or two? It’s a once in a lifetime occasion!” Added the writer, resting his left hand on the scientist’s shoulder.

“Ugh, why did I even ask you two, of all people... Sebastian, tell them something already!” Isaac lamented once more.

“Unfortunately, Master Isaac, I’m afraid to say I’m quite curious myself to see Master Mozart’s reaction. It’s for scientific purpose, after all.”

“For what?” Nine pairs of eyes flew to the butler’s figure.

“Oh, nevermind that.”

"Leonardo, would you mind throwing your cigar away? They'll catch the smell of it" Comte’s placid tone filled the small space.

"What, you curious too, "Comte"? Heh, as his majesty desires" Leonardo complied, putting out his cigarillo against the ground with a dramatic gesture, gaining a displeased glance from the nobleman.

"...thank you. Oh, I believe he's almost there. Everybody, please be quiet."

As their sire spoke these words, all the vampires got closer to the small opening of the door. Some could barely see anything, but the wooden surface was thin enough to let any and all sounds reach the hidden listeners’ attentive ears.

The person that had them all hidden in a small storage room adjacent to the parlor was none other than Mozart. The love of his life had just returned from the future with a surprise of a companion glued to her side, but the man was yet to show his face. He had been, as always ever since her departure a couple of years before, focused on composing his tunes, now devoid of their old brightness and tempo, just like the composer himself.

It was as clear as day that, although his external composure remained unchanged, his heart had decided to freeze himself, a thick layer of frozen indifference to hide a pain akin to that of being torn in half, cruelly and mercilessly. Whenever he let his guards down even the slightest bit, he found himself on a battlefield over which time had no influence whatsoever, and where the ice and snow perfectly preserved the destruction and desolation born from his loss. The blood from a still fresh and open wound laid on the ground, as strong winds hit him with the warm whispers of a long-lost sun, nowhere to be seen.

That was the devastated state in which his being was left in, unaware of the sympathetic smile Fate was now offering him.

That day, a mysterious note found its way between the pianist’s hands, the words “Meet me at 18.00 in the parlor. It’s a matter of utmost importance” written in an impeccable cursive of other times, clearly belonging to one of the many inhabitants of the mansion. When it came to such intimate business, they usually preferred keeping a certain distance from unfolding events, but seeing the hesitation and fear of rejection on the woman’s face, they had all agreed to lend her a hand and give a little pull on the red string that connected the two lovers.

As punctual as ever, when the clock’s hands moved to the predetermined time, Mozart knocked stiffly on the door, finally making his entrance in the scene.

Barely two steps in the room and he found himself stuck in place, incredulous eyes fixed on the feminine figure in front of him. His violet eyes immediately found her face, and his body moved towards hers, attracted by an invisible force that had kept them tied to each other in spite of time and space. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, though his feverish dreams and hazy memories couldn’t hold a candle to the real her.

As impatience shook his body with a strong wave of trembles, with a quick movement he trapped her in a soul-crushing embrace that overflowed with all his longing and love; as his arms tightly caged her to his torso, he nuzzled her neck, finding her warm skin with the cold tip of his nose.

One deep inhale, then another. And another one.

She smelled divine.

Oh, how he had missed that dazzlingly sweet scent, those soft locks tickling his pale cheeks now flush with various emotions, that small pair of arms circling his body and squeezing him tightly. Was this a dream? Had he finally reached the afterlife for a second time? If so then he didn’t want to go back. If living in an illusion meant being with her then he was ready to throw away the real world with no second thoughts. But this, this was real. His mind had already acknowledged it, leaving the heart behind to process its own feelings.

“Meine Geliebte-” (my beloved)

“Mozart-”

They said in unison, voices mixing with harmony in a euphonious melody.

As he pulled back a little to look her in the eyes, a small voice came from behind her body. “Mama...” When Mozart lowered his eyes to meet the small figure’s, he was met with a small child, around 4 or 5 years of age. Before his thoughts could even reach the idea of betrayal, he couldn’t help but notice how every single feature, although still not fully developed, was a mixture of one of his and his lover’s own. The similarity was painfully clear, but once more the brain outrun the heart, and Mozart felt his heartbeat fall to his stomach.

“This is...” The woman started with a wavering voice, maybe from the emotion or perhaps because of insecurity. “This is our son, Charles.”

“Our... son...?” The pianist slowly repeated, trying to give more time to his now nearly-exploding heart.

Bending down to meet those violet orbs so similar to his own, he smiled fondly, reaching a hand out to slowly caress the boy’s head. As he did so, a myriad of realizations hit Mozart like a carriage running at full speed. He could not believe he had missed his son’s birth, his first steps, his first words. The fruit of their love, a life born out of their union. No amount of apologies and care could give him back all that, and the thought brought tears to his eyes.

“Papa! No leave Mama anymore!” The boy suddenly pleaded as he threw himself between his father’s arms. Oh, but of course he wouldn't. How could he? Not anymore. He wasn’t so stupid as to let that damned door separate them again, and not even God could part them anymore. But would the boy understand? He was but a stranger to him, and he did commit the terrible mistake of letting the only person he truly cared for slip away from his grasp once, so how could he blame him for having such thoughts?

“No, I won't. I promise you.” Placing a warm hand on his son's back, maybe as a way to seal his vow, he brought the small, trembling body closer to his chest, trying with all his might to instill in him the sense of security that only a father's embrace can give.

After silently witnessing the whole scene in solemn silence and stillness, smiles and some tears bloomed on the woman and the secret onlookers' faces. As the child shakily whimpered in his finally-found paternal figure's neck, his mother kneeled by his side, where Mozart's arm took her in as he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. Their passionate reunion could wait for later that night, now all that mattered was being together, aware of each other's presence, warmth and smell. That was more than enough. “Thank you for coming back. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Unfortunately for them though, an interruption soon came to disturb their peace. Low whispers came from behind the door, and the pianist's trained ear caught them with no effort.

"Woohoo, that was a good one, Wolfie!"

"Shouldn't we just go already? If he were to catch us he'd go on a rampage"

"Still, I wish I could give him a round of applause! It was really moving~"

Mozart turned his violet eyes, now chilly with cold annoyance, towards the source of the hushed voices, silencing them immediately. Though he would have to thank them for the note, he knew they wouldn't have let him hear the end of it with their teasing comments and jokes. Before his thoughts could take the highway to a possible massacre, Charles' brought his attention back to where it belonged.

"Papa... can you show me your piano?"

Such a simple request brought spring into his heart, once plunged into a state of eternal winter. Feeling his every cell overflowing with love and gratitude he simply nodded, adding: "Sure, shall we go?"

Well, his revenge could wait for later. Now he had a lot of catching up to do, both with his love and son, and making them wait longer was definitely unacceptable.

Perhaps Fate had truly decided to be a little kinder to him in his second life.

#my writing #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp imagines #ikevamp headcanons #ikemen vampire #ikevamp mozart #wolfgang amadeus mozart #answered

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jakeyuni · 3 years ago

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ALLY !!!! baby your fic was so *chefs kiss* I LITERALLY SCREAMED BECAUSE WHY IS JAY SOOOO hnnngggff 🤤🤤. but Anyways! i just think devils advocate was a MASTERPIECE. a worldwide treasure, even. sjsjjs like idk how ur writing is so good like teach me your ways fr. i think all museums should print out and frame this fic because . there’s just no way something this good shouldn’t be appreciated an appropriate amount! ALSO ICB YOU WOULD MAKE JAY CALL YN DOLL LIKE WHAT IS THIS ARE U TRYING TO MAKE ME MORE WHipped for him or what 😞💔. and omfg the sneaking out scene <////3 maybe i shedded a few tears i will not tell. (i definitely did btw).

erm sorry for the paragraph but yeahh i enjoyed reading the devils advocate a decent amount i would say 😵‍💫👍.

MOONIE :( I FUCKING LOVE YOU SO MUCH OH MY GOSHHHHHHH. THIS MADE ME SMILE SO BIG MY CHEEKS HURT SO HARD RN. i an soso happy you liked devil’s advocate AHH yes with the jay bad boy but actual softie that’s calls you doll agenda !! i just thought it fit him SO WELL . ANS YES TO THE JAY DELUSIONAL BRAIN ROT AGENDA duhhh !! always !!

BUT !! god idk what i did to deserve you ugh your words and just you as a whole make me so 😵‍💫💗literally AHHHH MWAHMWAH MOON YOU ARE MY EVERYTHINGGGGGG <3

#asks #˃ᴗ˂ lovies <3 #moon <3

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leilabeaux · 4 years ago

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Luck Be a Lady

Chapter Four

Masterlist | One Two Three

Pairing: Alex x Reader

Word Count: 2161

Summary: Reader has some regrets and she learns something new about Alex.

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: And this is where I leave you. ::tips hat and rides off into the sunset:: On a real note, sorry for the lack of updates. Work and personal life has been hectic and wearing your girl down.

----

The bright lights of the Vegas Strip illuminated the living room enough that you didn’t bother turning on any lights as you left your bedroom. Now dressed down in your worn-out, oversized hoodie and pajama shorts, you walked over to the wet bar and pulled a bottle of vodka down from the shelf, not caring how overpriced it was. You thought about grabbing a glass but instead shrugged and took a swig straight from the bottle.

Settling on the wide marble ledge, you looked past your reflection in the window to peer down at the sparse traffic on the streets. You felt so physically drained after all the tears you’ve shed. You rubbed your bare face in embarrassment, mortified over letting all your emotions get in the way and ruining what was otherwise a nice evening.

Now that you weren’t in the middle of a panic attack, you regretted reacting too quickly when you told Alex to leave. You wished you could have him come back or at least text him so you could explain yourself but you two never took a moment to exchange numbers. Not like it would make much of a difference anyway, you were sure he was grateful to get some distance away from your crazy ass.

You didn’t bother looking over when you heard the door unlock and open. The clicking of heels confirmed it was your best friend doing her walk of shame, or stride of pride as she lovingly called it.

“So I didn’t see any sign of your Lover Boy when I snuck out of Marco’s room,” Bianca teased. You could hear her plop down onto the couch and then soft thuds of what you assumed were her shoes being dropped on the floor. “Is he here? Did you wear him out? Why are we sitting in the fucking dark?”

Light had filled the room after she clicked on a lamp. Although you were no longer crying, you knew your red, puffy eyes would give you away when you turned to look at her.

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?” She rushed over to join you on the ledge. “What did that fucker do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” you gave a small smile, trying to put her worries to rest but as all the emotions from the night went through you again, you couldn’t stop your eyes from welling up.

Bianca wrapped her arms around you, comforting you until you were ready to talk. Her hand rubbed your back as you softly sniffled into her shoulder.

“What happened, sweetie? Are you sure he didn’t do anything? Because I won’t hesitate to put my shoes back on and kick his ass if I need to.”

“No, Alex was sweet and a total gentleman the entire night. So you can calm down with all of that.” You pulled away from her, drying your face with the back of your sleeve before giving her a quick run through of your night. “We were kissing and everything was good and...I don’t know. It felt familiar.”

“Familiar how?”

“It was like being with Trevor again. I know him and Alex couldn’t be anymore different but it somehow felt the same. And then all I could think of was him and how much I missed him. I just felt guilty like I was cheating on him.”

Bianca shook her head as she took your hand in hers. “Y/N, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Trevor's been gone for almost two years now. It’s perfectly fine to move on whether if it’s a relationship or just sex. I know he would want you to be with someone who makes you happy.”

“It still feels too soon, maybe I’m not ready to be with anyone. Ugh, as if being with Alex would be possible especially after I freaked out on him,” you clasped your hand on your forehead, grimacing over that memory. “And I basically told him I was married.”

“What? Why?” Bianca looked at you like you were crazy.

“He saw my ring and asked how long I was married. So I told him eight years.” It technically wasn’t a lie. You had been married for about eight years before a deputy stood at your doorstep, telling you that your husband would never be returning home. “You know I hate the pitiful look people give me when they hear I’m a widow. And I thought it would be easier to push him away if I pretended that I was a faithful wife. But fuck, man, I couldn’t even keep that up!”

“It’s not too late to tell him all of this. I think I might remember what room they’re staying in.”

“Okay, even if he doesn’t think I’m crazy after all of that, I don’t think me and him would work. He’s young and I barely had the patience to deal with Trevor when he was that age. And he doesn’t even live in this country,” you tried to reason with her and maybe with your heart.

“Okay, he’s young and he doesn’t go here. So what?”

“I just think getting into a long distance relationship after losing your husband is a disaster.”

“Or it could be something beautiful. I’m sorry, Y/N. But if this boy could give even a fraction of happiness that Trevor gave you, then I’m all for it.”

You gnawed on your lip as you considered what she was telling you. You were too scared to take the risk. You were convinced that it would only end in heartbreak and you weren’t sure if you had enough strength to deal with another one of those again.

“I think I’m just too tired to deal with any of this right now...or ever.” You turned toward the window, staring at your worn down reflection. Definitely too damn tired.

——

The snow outside of your kitchen window was coming down hard and didn't show any signs of stopping. You sighed to yourself while emptying the remainder of the wine bottle into your glass, silently praying that you wouldn’t find yourself snowed in in the morning.

You sat on the couch, pulling the cozy throw up to your chin and trying to get comfortable while your lovable dog and cat duo, Dallas and Leeloo, were busy fighting over the spot next to you. Unfortunately for the young feline, it seemed like the elder Labrador was coming out to be the winner.

You sipped on your wine as you scrolled through Hulu for something to distract you from your headache of a night—your first and definitely last Tinder date.

You had spent twenty embarrassing minutes waiting for your date to return after he excused himself to the restroom. There was no devastation on your part. You didn’t feel the same chemistry in person that you had over messages but you were willing to at least wish him a good night like a decent person. You deleted the app on your way out, already convinced that nothing good would be coming from it.

You weren’t even mad at this guy. All of your annoyance was aimed at Bianca who had spent the last six months encouraging—nagging and begging—you to go out and start dating. She claimed that it was officially time for you to start moving on but you suspected she just wanted you to see how wrong you were for letting the potential Mr. Right in Vegas get away.

You’d never tell her but she was right and you didn’t need a string of bad or mediocre dates to find that out. The nights you used to spend in bed wondering how life would be if Trevor was still alive were now spent thinking of what could have been with Alex. From the small amount of time you spent with him, you knew he would be the caring, supportive boyfriend who’d hang on every word you said and whisper into your ear to ease any of your self doubts and do anything to make you smile.

You had tried to search for him with the very minimal details you knew about him, during one very lonely night spent with a bottle of whiskey, but none of the Copenhagen based photographers named Alex turned out to be the one you were looking for. It shouldn’t have been too shocking but your drunk self still took it a bit hard, spending part of the night lying on the kitchen floor and crying into Dallas’s fur.

You gave up on finding something uplifting to watch and settled with the historical drama you had been slowly working your way through the past few months. You originally didn’t think a show about Vikings would be your cup of tea as you were more of a sucker for the period pieces with more extravagant, vibrant costumes but it came highly recommended by your Vegas fling. He said it was a pretty good show. After three seasons and nine episodes, he definitely wasn’t wrong.

You were down to the last ten minutes of the episode where Bjorn was going up to his brothers’ cabin. You had downed the rest of your glass only to spit it all out, your pets scurrying away to avoid the spray, when grown Ivar rolled over to show his face.

“What...the fuck?” You whispered to yourself as the scene cutaway. Your mouth hung open and your eyes were glued to the screen.

“What the fuck?” You repeated again when you saw Marco on the screen next to Alex. “Why would they do that to his hair?”

As soon as the episode ended, you sat still with your brow furrowed. You went through all the conversations you had and didn’t remember him saying he was an actor nor that he starred in this “pretty good” show.

You grabbed your phone to do a quick google search of who played Ivar. Alex Høgh Andersen. This entire time you had access to his name. If only you had given in to your urge to binge watch the show in one sitting you would have had it sooner.

You pulled up your Instagram and typed in his name. As you were about to click on his account, you quickly changed your mind and threw your phone next to you on the couch as if it scorched you. You weren’t seriously going to stalk this man on the internet, you were a whole grown woman who was definitely too mature to be drooling over some pictures.

Getting up to get ready for bed, you left your phone where it was so it would be less of a temptation. But you found that you couldn’t help but stare at it through the mirror as you aggressively brushed your teeth. Your curiosity was beginning to get the best of you.

You quickly rinsed out your mouth and walked toward your couch but then turned around, shaking your head as you headed down the hall to your bedroom. Leeloo and Dallas sat next to each other in the living room, both looking down the hall and not bothering to follow as if certain you’d be back.

“I’m just going to look at a few pictures. Just see what he’s been up to,” you explained to no one when you returned for your phone. Standing in the middle of your living room, you looked through his posts from the funny videos to his beautiful photography. You thought maybe you spent too much time scrolling through when you found yourself unable to stop staring at his well defined arm as he hovered over a mattress.

It wouldn’t be too crazy if you sent him a message to catch up and see how he was doing. Or would it? What would you even say? “Hi, remember me? The woman you ate out in Vegas. You know the one who broke down before you got a chance to get it in? Oh, and remember how I said I was married? Surprise! I’m actually a widow and lied because I got scared over you being so into me and even more scared when I realized I may have felt the same.”

You kept going back and forth over what you should really say to him, typing one thing only to immediately delete it. Seemed like anything you wrote came out sounding awkward or just dumb.

“Hi, I’m not sure if you remember me? It’s Y/N. The baker you met in Vegas.” It was enough to start a conversation but would he think you’re only contacting him because you now knew he was an actor. Your thumb hovered over send as you contemplated your choice.

You looked up at the clock and sighed out loud. You couldn’t afford to waste anymore time on this unless you wanted to be a zombie when you went into work in the morning.

You brought your thumb down and hit send. Fuck it.

----

End Notes: This is the last chapter of this part but not the end of their story. So don’t be too mad at me. Will Alex read her message? Will they ever meet again? Does Reader need to tell Bianca that she was right?

Tags: @castielsangelsx @xbellaxcarolinax @didiintheblog @jzr201 @kaitieskidmore1 @eroguroshoujo

#alex høgh andersen #alex høgh andersen x reader #alex høgh andersen imagine #alex høgh x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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Welcome back, everyone!

A quick note before we begin: after the previous recap a couple of lovely friends and anons explained to me some discrepancies in my work, mainly about how Fox's semblance functions and how much info we’ve gotten on that previously. They're worth a read if (like me) you haven't read After the Fall and would like a more accurate picture of this whole project. However, I have to admit that sadly past!me didn’t think through the usefulness of those posts and tag them appropriately... so they’re just somewhere in the mess that is the “rwby” and “mymetas” tags. Still, I wanted to acknowledge their existence, both for your potential use and as another disclaimer along the lines of, “I’m reading what amounts to a sequel and recapping as I go. Prepare for a bumpy ride.”

We're on chapter five now (of twenty-two! Holy god I’m slow!!) and truth be told I actually enjoyed this opening. We're in Yatsuhashi's head this time around and he's likewise enjoying Vacuo's Meeting Spot, an "artificial oasis" that reminds him of his mother's healing gardens. I wonder what "healing" means in this particular context. A generalized benefit to your body, mind, and spirit in the form of meditation? Or a more literal, magic-based healing with its roots in aura use? In a world with RWBY's possibilities, a healing garden that someone like Ozpin might run—let's take time to settle ourselves and reflect—vs. one that someone like Jaune would create—let me use my semblance to literally heal your wounds—are rather different things. I'd be interested to know which category (or another) Yatsuhashi's mother falls under.

Regardless, it's a satisfyingly quiet scene. Yatsuhashi comments on both the beauty of the oasis as well as how that beauty, in turn, raises the desert in his eyes. Nothing like not having to deal with a hard landscape to make that landscape seem more bearable, alluring even, and this moment managed to capture that feeling rather well. The only downside is that, in a recurring theme, I once again got whiplash upon realizing that Yatsuhashi is not standing alone in the peace of the early morning, like the description had led me to believe. Apparently Velvet is there. As well as the whole freaking student body! Myers* has this strange habit of writing one kind of scene only to suddenly reveal that the scene is actually radically different from what his writing had encouraged you to imagine. Yatsuhashi is going on about healing, natural beauty, and the peace of an early morning. What's peaceful about dozens of students speculating beside him? Have you ever met a school of sleep deprived young adults dealing with a surprise announcement before breakfast? That’s as far from peaceful as humanly possible.

Mood, kid.

(*Also yes, we're working to write Myers' name correctly this chapter. If I'm going to drag his work so much the least I can do is not add an additional 'e' to his name lol.)

Along with the entirety of Shade Academy to break the peace, Yatsuhashi tells us about dromedons and mole crabs. The former, according to the wiki, is a "camel-like Grimm that can spit acidic venom" and also sports an armored hump. Fun! The latter, according to Yatsuhashi, is a "horrifying" creature that "slept just below the sand and could cut a person in two with their massive claws." And they're the normal, non-grimm animals! Screw Salem. Humanity needs huntsmen just to keep people safe from the everyday wildlife. Crabs cut people in two, Zwei is capable of being set on fire and launched at a mech... it's a miracle that anyone ever steps outside their home.

I do write this with full knowledge that Australia exists, but still.

As Yatsuhashi moves away from thoughts of killer crabs, we begin what is easily the strangest bit of repetition this chapter. Yatsuhashi's shoulder is sore from having tried to break down the hideout door and I'm going, "Wait no, you used your sword” and frantically flipping back through my PDF. To Myers' credit, there is a detail that suggests Yatsuhashi uh... rammed the door? I think? Last chapter he "Stepped forward and Fox heard him grunt with exertion." That's the only thing I can think of that would explain his shoulder unexpectedly being sore hours later: if he'd charged it instead of doing something insane like, oh, I don't know, trying the doorknob first. Odd choice of continuity, but okay. What's super weird though is that Myers repeats the detail again:

Yatsuhashi crossed his arms, then grimaced as a fresh pain shot through his shoulder. Come on, Aura, he thought. Do your thing.

I'm sorry, how badly did you hurt your shoulder? Why does a supposedly intelligent student immediately resort to what is apparently somewhat serious self-harm when faced with a closed door? Why is Myers choosing this of all things to tell us about? Is this incredibly random shoulder injury going to hinder Yatsuhashi during the test? Spoilers: I don't think it does considering that I searched for "shoulder" in my PDF and there's just a lot of hands on shoulders coming up, but nothing that, at first glance, seems to make this kind of set up necessary. So I say again: weird.

Meanwhile, weirdness doesn’t even acknowledge the continued inconsistencies with aura. Jaune heals a cut on his cheek instantaneously, but hours later Yatsuhashi needs to gripe at his aura to hop-to already? So either Jaune’s aura is far more powerful than the average person’s (never established outside of Pyrrha’s “You have a lot of it” comment), or Yatsuhashi really hurt his shoulder that badly. Hard enough that with the rest of the night and early morning to heal him, his aura is still working overtime.

Alrighty then.

So the whole student body is just kind of hanging out, striking up casual conversations. Velvet asks how Yatsuhashi is doing and he says he's fine, "Thanks to you." Wait... what did Velvet do? I mean yeah, she was there last night and she's here now, but so is the rest of the team. I don't really recall her helping Yatsuhashi in any specific way. As is the norm now, I remain mildly, endlessly confused by this novel.

But we don’t have time to delve into the gratitude attached to events I’m not actually sure happened. There’s more chit chat going on as everyone tries to figure out why they've been summoned so early in the morning. "It's not always about us," Velvet says and I nod along in agreement even though I know, as a reader, that it's absolutely about them. "As I'm often reminding Coco."

Coco fires back with how it "could be about us," noting that it would be pretty coincidental if something else was going on right now, plus Rumpole may have realized they were out last night. (Remember, Yatsuhashi wasn't subtle about trying to break down that door). This is one of those moments where I agree wholeheartedly with Coco's logic, but kind of hate to encourage the 'It's all about us' attitude. Velvet might be smiling, but as previously established this is an ongoing theme within RWBY's characterization that it could really stand to do without.

Yatsuhashi then offers some "unsolicited advice" about how Rumpole could afford to slow down some and "let things come at their own pace," to which I respond, "Huh?" Where in the world did this come from? Previously the whole group—including Yatsuhashi, considering he didn't speak out against it—was concerned that Rumpole wasn't doing enough to track down the Crown. That is, do more, move faster, get it done already. You haven’t gotten it done? Okay, we’ll do it instead. Now he's providing this subtle criticism in response to a meeting, as if that's an inherently odd or bad thing for a headmistress to do. You want the woman to do extra work faster but slow down when it comes to her actual job?

It reads to me like Myers is trying to put a lot of wise-sounding dialogue into Yatsuhashi's mouth—you know, the Asian character who keeps bringing up things like meditation and mindfulness—but hasn't bothered to think about whether that dialogue makes any sense. Of course, we then immediately backtrack to reveal that his comment was really about Coco not pushing the team too hard, but... that's not what he said? And Coco clearly didn't get the message. And the hidden meaning of the words didn't come across too well if your reader is squinting at what was said until the author has to straight up go, 'This is what Yatsuhashi actually meant.' Maybe just... have him say that? Give us some significant looks towards Coco, at the very least. Something to clue us in here that Yatsuhashi is (weirdly) blaming Rumpole for Coco's flaw.

Then he just ruins the whole scene further by mentally commenting that if all this extra work was hard on them, "what would it do to SSSN?" Ugh, look. I don't even like SSSN very much. I didn't shed a tear when they left the main series and would shrug if they ever came back, so you know the story is ragging on them too much when I'm standing up for the group at the bottom of my Character Adoration list. The duality of 'SSSN is so incompetent I don't even know how they're alive' and 'That, in comparison, makes us the best team ever' got old forty pages ago, yet I have the distinct feeling it won't be letting up any time soon.

Headmaster Theodore finally arrives to break up this thrilling conversation and the students erupt into thunderous applause. "It was what [he] expected. It was what he inspired whenever he appeared." That... is absolutely hilarious. This guy is so much of a showman, so insanely over the top, that he expects people to treat his everyday appearance as a spectacle worthy of praise and they agree. You know who he reminds me of?

The king himself, Alex Louis Armstrong. I'm digging this already. It's absurd and I will forever question RWBY's ability to balance comedy with its darker tones... but I'm counting this one as a win so far. There's got to be something to praise about this book.

Just as important, we get a description of Theodore's positively insane outfit. I immediately googled to see if someone had drawn him and the fandom did not disappoint. I'm not going to include the image here in case the artist, Edisu, doesn't want their work reposted like that, but I highly recommend you check out the link and get a visual.

The only thing left to say about this fashion monstrosity is that he has a "flowing gray-blue cape, the color of a stormy sky." I'll let our favorite textile engineer make my point for me:

Honestly, between Ruby's cape and Weiss' hair someone is going to end up in trouble one of these days.

In this world free of horrific cape tragedies, we've segued into a flashback which is, frankly, kind of boring compared to the others we’ve gotten. It's just the group meeting Theodore, information and characterization that could have easily been distributed to the audience in the present. It's starting to feel like the structure of including a flashback each chapter is hindering Myers somewhat, just because every chapter doesn’t necessarily need one, but that’s far from the biggest issue to tackle.

We learn that Theodore (really Rumpole) did a bunch of research on all the students involved in the Vytal Festival and they're very pleased that Team CFVY has joined them now, despite the horrific circumstances. We again hear about how judgmental Coco can be, that her judgements are rarely wrong... but if they are wrong she's the last to admit it. So really that's less of a 'This character has good instincts about other people' and more 'This character is just, as said, judgmental and then stubborn about it when she’s wrong.' Theodore, however, seems like a cool dude:

“Ah, she speaks!” Theodore strode toward Velvet. His voice softened. “You didn’t fail, my dear. You fought. You stayed, far longer than anyone would have asked or expected of a student. And now you’re here. Do you want to be here? Will you fight for Shade the way you did for Beacon, Velvet Scarlatina?”

This is great. This is the kind of reassurance I would expect from a headmaster who, thus far, has received a fair amount of praise. Unlike his students, Theodore understands the risks Beacon students took and when it was time for them to make a life-saving retreat. He's inspiring while also being empathetic and honestly? That's the most I've had that 'You're a good person' sense from RWBY in a very long time.

Now watch Theodore turn out to be evil lol.

He cuts the tension of the serious conversation by proclaiming that if any of them doubt whether they should be here, they should take it up with him via a fight. Theodore announces this while striking a pose. I say again:

We then get some more reflection on how Theodore compares to Ozpin:

Ozpin had believed in you before you did, almost like he knew your true potential, despite what your transcripts or fighting abilities looked like. Theodore believed you had potential, but you had to earn it and prove yourself to him first.

I agree with that and I'm pleased to see that this time the comparison didn't involve criticizing Ozpin in an effort to build Theodore up. It’s likewise a useful description and I think it provides us with at least one interpretation of why the RWBYJNR group has discarded Ozpin so thoroughly. The addition "despite what your transcripts or fighting abilities looked like" implies that Ozpin sees potential in everyone. It doesn't matter how presumably flawed you might be—in physical strength, like Jaune; in morals, like Lionheart— Ozpin will see the good in you and give that good a fighting chance. That's why he's the one tasked with doing something as crazy as uniting the whole world because he's the one person capable of seeing that potential in literally everyone. That much is true. But the flipside of this is that, unlike when in interacting with someone like Theodore, no one expects to have to work for Ozpin's faith, his praise... his trust. With Theodore you have to "earn" the respect he gives you right from the start. With Ozpin it's free! So surely that means such faith extends to every possible situation, right?

Which is when you run into trouble. When the situation is no longer "I'll give you a chance in my school" but something much more serious like "I'm risking the whole world on your character." Ozpin is an optimist, but he's also cautious as hell (with good reason), so though he sees the potential in everyone he knows he can't let his own hope for humanity blind him to reality. That person might betray you. They might turn on you. They might give up and hurt you in the process... even if you want to believe that people are simply better than that. Wanting doesn’t make it so.

If someone who had as little interaction with Ozpin as Team CFVY did nevertheless developed such a strong sense of, "Yeah, he believes in everyone!" then it seems likely that Team RWBY, already sporting a special connection with him, thought they were shoe-ins for every possible secret and task they might ask of him. Their time at Beacon was defined largely by both intentional favoritism and coincidences that could arguably be read as such. Ruby gets to go to Beacon two years early. She gets to be team leader. The sisters stay together despite teams supposedly being random. Team RWBY goes on missions not meant for first years. Team RWBY is given a nudge-nudge-wink-wink about The White Fang so that they can do what they’re able to help. Team RWBY was friends with Pyrrha, next in line for the Maiden powers. They got used to Ozpin simultaneously solving all the real problems that showed up and letting them play at being important, all while the rest of the school had to follow normal rules. They’re special. But then Beacon falls, the game is over, and they're blindsided by having to earn trust and privileges in the real world. Playing at huntresses in the safety of your headmaster’s school is over and Ruby in particular never got that there was a massive difference between that and a real war where the fate of the world hangs on your trustworthiness and ability to keep it together. It’s why she announces to the Argus guards that she is a huntress while attacking the people she’s meant to protect.

Which would be a fantastic arc to give them if the show ever had someone sit the group down and tell them how childish and selfish they're being. Instead, they're still being handed that trust and privilege—you can go into Atlas despite stealing from the military, you get your licenses years early, you get to carry an incalculably valuable relic around—while likewise still getting mad that the adults around them don't give them more. This comparison here, though realistically just a throwaway passage in a novel rather iffily connected to its original series, starts to highlight the excellent situation RT set up... and then didn't do anything with.

But I've gone on about this long enough. There are just two other things I'd like to point out about this flashback. The first is that it may help us get a handle on Ozpin's age (if we're willing to accept these books as canon, despite their other inconsistencies). Earlier we're told that "Headmaster Theodore’s whole style should have been ridiculous for a man likely in his forties, maybe older" and here, in describing their different approaches, we get "Headmaster Ozpin, who had been younger but seemed much older." So that could potentially put Ozpin his his late 30s if he's noticeably younger than Theodore in his 40s. Or, in his 40s if the "maybe older" part is right and Theodore is in his 50s. I can’t imagine that Theodore is in his 60s. Not much to go on, admittedly, but I'll take whatever I can get. The interesting thing is that if Ozpin really is that young and Qrow is now (presumably) in his early 40s, wouldn't that have made them basically the same age during his Beacon days? Perhaps even giving us an Ozpin who was younger than his oldest students? I don't know. It's really less of a definitive piece of information and more messy speculation to add to the pile—which is par the course for RWBY nowadays.

The second detail I wanted to point out was that despite all their supposed differences, Headmaster Theodore and Professor Rumpole have a very Ozpin-Glynda relationship going on. For all the cosmetic changes it boils down to the same dynamic. Both headmasters are powerful, quirky men who at first glance appear to be rather useless at their jobs, requiring the confident headmistress to swoop in and manage the daily running of a school. Those two do the heavy lifting while their bosses work wonders from behind the scenes (a la The Wizard). When I read Rumpole chastising Theodore for claiming he investigated the students, or when she reminds him that there isn't time to have an impromptu duel with his students, I couldn't help but think about Glynda reluctantly letting Ozpin invite Ruby to Beacon early, or cleaning up the cafeteria while he shrugs off the mess. To be clear, I don't necessarily mean this as a criticism, just an observation. In truth I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it adds to the overall sense that Shade is just Beacon with a slightly different coat of paint. As I've mentioned previously, for all the text's insistence that Shade isn't like the other schools, the story hasn't done a good job of demonstrating that cultural difference in any meaningful way and similarities like this only add to the feeling that this isn't really a unique Kingdom—or at least not one with a firm enough identity to be persuasively unique. Same rule breaking team sneaking out on their own mission. Same secondary team who’s talented, but not as special as the protagonists. Same strange man with his responsible woman running the school. The details differ, obviously, but the structure feels largely the same.

As mentioned above, once the flashback ends Theodore tries to spar with one of the students but is quickly shut down by Rumpole because, you know, they have a meeting to hold. Apparently there have been complaints lately from the local security about Shade students interfering with official huntsmen business.

“I told you it was about us,” Coco muttered.

Coco, when you hear that people are pissed that you, an unlicensed student, are disrupting the careers of professionals every night the takeaway should not be, 'Aha! I knew it was all about me.'

Yatsuhashi at least provides a more nuanced perspective. "This wasn’t right, though. If they hadn’t interfered, those Huntsmen would have kidnapped an innocent person." He's right. They did help someone, but what they've failed to learn is that an individual good deed does not excuse the unlawful steps they took in getting there. If Team CFVY had just been out on the town and happened to spot some shady characters pulling shit, then put a stop to their kidnapping, that's fine. That's heroic. What is not heroic is them going out with the express purpose of fixing a situation that trained professionals told them they should not be trying to fix—key word being “trying,” given that they all understand Rumpole’s worry that they’ll make things worse. It was enough to send them back home last night... after Yatsuhashi failed to break into the hideout. The problem is not the "I helped someone who needed it" part but rather the "I'm arrogant enough to think that my presence is necessary" bit.

If having students conducting investigations was wanted or necessary, it would be a part of the curriculum: acknowledged or otherwise. AKA yes, Ruby. It would be very helpful if you'd head on off to Mountain Glenn, under the observation of a seasoned huntsmen, and report back if there's any dubious activity going on over there. Ozpin said, 'Yes please' to the extra (highly controlled) help while these professionals are saying, 'No thanks.' The fact that Team CFVY acts is if they're justified in continuing this investigation—and worse, that the story keeps validating those feelings—undermines their otherwise heroic actions. RWBY really is a series that struggles with giving its protagonists compelling reasons for getting involved in the fight. ‘Because I want to help’ might be a noble motivation, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you should. The Mountain Glenn mission was like a chef allowing a talented, aspiring teen to help them with a dish, all of it done under their tutelage. Team CFVY’s investigation is like the teen sneaking into the kitchen after dark to doctor all the prep for the next day’s cooking under the assumption that they’ll make it even better. Hell, maybe they will! But that’s not the point. Your help was not invited — explicitly denied, actually —and there’s a very good chance you’ll mess something up.

So because this group of eight continually insists that they know best, the whole school is required to stay on campus after nightfall. Huzzah!

It’s just too bad these consequences hurt others just as much as Team CFVY. The other students are pissed about this. I would be too! Team CFVY remains adamant though that they did the right thing, no guilt here, relying on the reader inaccurately comparing ‘saving lives’ with ‘losing free time off campus’ in order to come out on Team CFVY's side. They still fail to understand that helping people is not the reason they’re being punished.

Theodore and Rumpole reiterate that they are working on a solution and that no one else should be getting involved. Team CVFY is no more persuaded by this speech than they were the previous ones. The announcement then segues into discussion of the former Haven students which produces... boos from the audience?? My god, what is wrong with this school? I mean I get it, school is brutal—both in real life and fiction—especially when the social dynamics of your school are written much more like a high school than a college, but usually if characters are going to drag new students it's in the semi-privacy of a bathroom or an empty hall. Groaning over the existence of war survivors in front of your headmaster is a level of confident cruelty I didn't expect.

Then again, RWBY is the show that gave us Cardin pulling on Velvet's ears in the middle of the cafeteria, so perhaps I shouldn't be surprised.

Theodore quickly bypasses the whole 'A decent number of my students hate these other students' issue and instead acknowledges that it is "difficult to adjust to a new school, an entirely new group of classmates, and most of all to life in Vacuo. Yet some of you have been separated from your original training teams.” Which is a nice way of saying that a good number of these teammates are dead. So what's the solution here?

Reinitiation Ceremony!

I'm sarcastic, but in all honesty I don't hate this idea. Far from it. Partly because I have a strong love of competitions in shonen-esque stories. Tests, trials, the obligatory tournament arc... they've always been some of my favorite parts of a series, largely because they allow the author to develop whacky and creative challenges that show off important characterization. See: Killua using a skateboard during the tunnel run before deciding that if Gon can manage running it, he can too; or Izuku using the mines and a piece of scrap to blast himself ahead of Bakugo and Todoroki. The structure of such tests forces characters to demonstrate creativity and critical thinking skills alongside strength, and that in turn reminds us of why they're our heroes. RWBY managed this a little bit with the Vytal Festival, but overall I don’t think the teams did anything particularly impressive to win. Team RWBY worked together, Nora hit people really hard with her hammer, Weiss' injury pissed off Yang enough to tap into more power... it was all stuff we had seen before and very little of it required planning or creativity. The Vytal Festival functioned more to set up the plot developments of Volume 3, which is fine, though for a while I had hoped that we would get a huntsmen license exam to do this sort of work... which obviously didn’t happen. Disappointing, but we’re at least getting something like that here.

So I love the concept. I even love the general reasoning behind holding the ceremony at all. Anyone who had spent five minutes on this blog knows that I think the groups need to learn to play well with others. Yet I also can't deny that the team dynamics provide stability for these characters, even if they've come to rely on that stability to an unhealthy degree. We've got students whose teams were presented to them not just as a professional tool, but their primary support system. You live with these people, attend all the same classes, spend your free time together, and survive life-threatening situations on a fairly regular basis. It's work, family, and friendship all rolled into one, so if the headmaster suddenly says that you get a new team, that's a whole lot more devastating than just learning that you've got a new project group to deal with. It shouldn't have come to that—a school looking to teach a profession that requires working with a wide variety of individuals should never have told four students to rely one each other and each other alone—but now that we're here you can't just break them apart with no notice. Especially with a traumatic war going on. It's hard to come to a new school, meet new people, learn a new culture... so let me rip away the one piece of familiarity you have left.

Of course, I don't really think that the teams will be broken up irrevocably, if at all. Rather, I simply want to acknowledge that despite my appreciation for these kinds of stories and despite my desire that the teams get some distance... it shouldn't be done like this. Even more-so when it’s abundantly clear—to us if not the instructors—that this little stunt is causing their students to re-live a whole bucket load of trauma. Yatsuhashi thinks about how this feels like an “out of body experience” and “It reminded [him] uncomfortably of the evacuation of Beacon Academy… He felt his breath catch in his throat.” Coco’s order to stick together “[brought] him back to the moment,” re-emphasizing that he was lost in the past for a while there. He’s clearly struggling.

Now, to be fair, this could all fall under the category of flawed characters. Meaning, anytime something awful happens in fiction we can interpret that as a skill on the part of the author: they wanted to write a scenario where the teachers are screwing up and unintentionally hurting their students. Or they know they’re hurting their students and consider that to be an acceptable sacrifice under the justification of ‘They have to get over Beacon at some point!’ There are lots of ways to paint this as Myers/RT writing complex, human characters who make ambiguous choices—a testament to their ability to write “realistically.” But to be frank I don’t really buy it. Simply because I’ve had a lot of experience now with how RWBY handles subjects like trauma and it’s only rarely been written respectfully and engagingly. I could be proven wrong as the novel continues, but it seems more likely that Myers wrote the instructors coming up with this test, wrote Yatsuhashi panicking over it, and intends to continually imply that these two things are separate plot points. Bringing both together in a narratively useful way would require acknowledging the instructors’ motivations—Why this test? Why now? Do they realize the harm they’re causing? If so, do they think it’s worth it?—and then coming to some sort of resolution, either via some recovery on CFVY’s part due to the instructors’ choices (this test did help us move past Beacon), or the instructors learning something about empathy and trauma via CFVY’s reaction (we never should have done this). I highly doubt we’ll get either.

Thus, everyone is (justifiably) horrified. The teams are gone and either the shock of that made Team CFVY prioritize feelings of safety over strategy, or they're just not going to demonstrate any of the intelligence I look for in this kind of arc, because they immediately start obsessing over staying together.

He needed to keep his team close to him. Especially Velvet. If they weren’t separated, they couldn’t be assigned to different teams.

Yatsuhashi, that is not at all what Rumpole told you:

“It’s already begun,” Rumpole said. “Everything you do from this moment forward will factor into your evaluations for new teams.”

Where in the world did you get the idea that you wouldn't be assigned a new team so long as you stuck with your old one? If I were one of the instructors here that choice would make me more likely to separate them. "Everything you do from this moment," Rumpole says, meaning that how they respond to this information is a part of the test. The team that panics and refuses to separate is the team that either can't function without one another, or at the very least believes that they can't. They're not willing to work with others and thus they're precisely the type that needs to learn this skillset. You're the ones they'll want to give new teammates to.

Of course, fate has different ideas about how things should go down. And by "fate" I mean "A completely ridiculous plot device." Team CFVY is separated because... the crowd is large I guess? It’s ridiculous. Four fighters already standing beside one another and who are now hyper-focused on staying together are not going to get swept away by a Shade size crowd who probably also want to stick with their own teammates. There are far better, far more convincing ways to keep them apart. Ozpin shot students one-by-one into the forest! Literally anything other than what we got, really.

Still, that’s what we wound up with. Yatsuhashi and Coco both try to keep the team together only for the immense power of other people existing putting a stop to their plan. Alrighty then. Before they’re dramatically swept away on different ships, however, we do get two other noteworthy bits of information that I'd like to end on. The first is Rumpole’s announcement that “When you reach your destination, your goal will be to locate a gold figurine and bring it back to the school” to which Fox replies, “Great. Glad this is fair for everyone. Who can see.” And you know what? He's right. Maybe Fox and I will both be proven wrong (I feel like I'm writing that a lot this chapter...) but unless there's some miscommunication here or a surprise in store, a goal of "locat[ing] a gold figurine" is indeed a sight based challenge and, when placed in a test that is deliberately separating Fox from his team, puts him at a severe disadvantage.

The second is simply that the year levels of the students will not be a factor in the creation of new teams. “What year we are? Yatsu thought. This can’t be right. How could a first-year keep up with fourth-years?” to which I respond, "Um... that's the entire show?" The webseries RWBY is about how Team RWBY, starting out as first years, has surpassed everyone around them, to the point where they're now beating the best team in Atlas. Time-wise they're still second years—far as I can figure out, anyway—so if second years can beat elite military operations, a first year can stand toe-to-toe with second, third, and fourth years. More crucial to Yatsuhashi's thought process—because as an in-world character he doesn't necessarily know what Team RWBY has been up to post-Volume 3—he's still seen how well first years did at Beacon. Ruby was let in two years early. Pyrrha is such a phenomenally talented fighter her face is on their cereal boxes. A first year, Yang, went on to compete in the Vytal Tournament final (even if it was rigged. Yatsuhashi doesn't know that), and Team CFVY fought beside a number of first years at the Battle of Beacon. Now, you all know that I think education and experience are damn important. I'm not saying Yatsuhashi is flat-out wrong to question whether there would be any issues attached to slamming, say, a first year, two second years, and a fourth year into one team (especially when you consider practical questions like going to classes), but the general takeaway of "How could they keep up?" seems a tad strange. You know first years can keep up. You watched it happen, both in your former school's curriculum—first years get to go on an upper-level mission—and in real life battle. This knee-jerk response reads as even worse after five chapters of looking down on Team SSSN. Team CFVY really thinks highly of themselves, huh.

Honestly, it feels like our authors didn't pay a whole lot of attention to the implications of the dialogue/thoughts they’re giving to the characters which is, again, par for the course at this point. Like the questions attached to the test, this feels less like giving Yatsuhashi a flaw (he, as an in-world character, hasn't bothered to think through whether his knee-jerk assumption about first years is supported by his experiences) and more like a flaw of the creators. That sounds like a legitimate concern—in the same way that Yatsuhashi's advice to Rumpole sounds generically wise—but poke at it a bit and you start finding a number of cracks. An author who is well aware of the world they've built and strives to adhere to it might have had Yatsuhashi acknowledge some of the amazing things he's seen first years do and still conclude that there are problems with this decision. That's legit. As it stands, Yatsuhashi just sounds ignorant and (again) overly confident, which I don't trust to be a moment of character insight as opposed to an authorial blip.

Which is about where we end. The team is split on different airships, no one is happy about it, and we're left with this somewhat unsettling image:

Headmaster Theodore was waving and whooping, like it was all some terrific game, while Professor Rumpole watched silently, her hair whipping around in the wind and an unsettling grin on her face.

This gives me some hope that the story will treat the problems attached to this test respectfully. The description of Theodore acting "like it was all some terrific game" is a mark against his character and Rumpole straight up has an "unsettling grin on her face." Is she one of the baddies? Potentially. Will I ever again get adult characters who aren't depicted as inept, traitorous, or just so flawed that they unwittingly cause great damage to their students? Probably not. These two desires remain constantly at war with one another. RWBY introduces issues that the story should tackle, but the only issues it acknowledges are those attached to the adults. So we have everyone doing a range of iffy things, but only the elders are likely to be punished or (better yet) learn something over the course of the tale. The double standard remains so strong across the franchise that at this point I just want to raise a THE ADULTS DID NOTHING WRONG banner and call it a day. Not because they're actually free of mistakes or even, at times, downright cruelty, but because if our protagonists constantly get that free pass I'm not sure why everyone else can't too.

Anyone for a spot of denial?

But I've now written nearly twice as much as the actual chapter in question. It's time to stop! At this rate I’ll have written the equivalent of five Before the Dawns in my attempt to recap just one. #yikes

Until Chapter Six 💜

#rwby #BTD Recaps #Before the Dawn #mymetas

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island-girl98 · 5 years ago

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My thoughts on tonight’s episode(s) - 1 x 09/10

(Please comment I worked semi hard on these thoughts. I would like to hear other people’s thoughts!)

I was so not prepared for TK to wake up so early in the episode but I’m also not complaining 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m seeing a pattern here. All of the calls so far have been about fathers and their sons. Can we also all come to an agreement that TK definitely shoved a toy car up his nose as a kid because that’s totally something he would do 😂

TK BETTER NOT DECIDE TO STOP BEING A FIRE FIGHTER! HE LOVES HELPING PEOPLE 😭

Yasss a Tarlos scene. ❤️ They better get together.

What tf is happening... it looks like the apocalypse is starting 😬

Is it bad that because I live on an island that amount of birds in the sky is not uncommon 🙃

I’m sorry but I let out a laugh that scared my dog when Michelle honked the horn with her head. I just don’t like her 😶

Okay I’ve worked at a restaurant and Mateo whacking that machine is me while Judd yelling at him is my manager 😂

(This has nothing to do with the show but during the commercial break my brother came home with the mail. Half an hour later my mom also came home with the mail. We were all confused. Then we figured out that my brother OPENED THE WRONG MAILBOX BUT IT WORKED WITH OUR KEY. Now he’s freaking out that he’s going to jail while I just want to know what’s in the package that isn’t ours...) 🚓

The airplane people have SONS! Seeeeee what I’m saying people. And one is named Tyler! 🚁

I hope TK helping these people is going to make him see that he should be a firefighter

OMG THIS IS MY FAVORITE SONG 😭

YAAASSS “he’s my son”

Ugh get gone Iris and Michelle 🙄

“But that junkie stole your van” okay I laughed at that line

I’m sorry for sounding so bitchy but they are taking up to much screen time like I DONT CARE ABOUT IRIS’ STORY

Excuse me I was not prepared for the space station scene 😭😭😭 and who chose the music!

YAS TK YOU CHOOSE THAT FAMILY 😭

CARLOS SHOWING UP IS PERFECT FOR MY HEART ❤️

are they serious that Michelle and Owen are interrupting tarlos AGAIN

Yes. Yes you do make a pretty great team!!!

Buttercup is my spirit animal

NOOO IT CAN’T BE OVER

Final thoughts:

I loved this episode they pulled out all of the stops and I did shed a tear or two don’t judge!

I CANT STAND MICHELLE AND IRIS. I’ve said it a million times I don’t care about their storyline nor will I ever care about it. I can’t stand the fact that the tarlos scenes have been cut out twice now so that Michelle and Owen can talk.

Overall this was a bomb finale and there better be a season 2 or we riot!

#tk strand #owen strand #9-1-1 lone star #9-1-1

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timeless-season-four · 6 years ago

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Episode Recap: Chinatown, Part 2

Welcome to our first episode recap! @only-freakin-sunflowers has us covered with her thoughts on the season premiere, and we hope to have her take appearing every Tuesday as we go forward....

Welcome back, Clockblockers! At this point, our dedication is only matched by our Time Team’s to get Rufus back. Us too, guys, us too. And I am putting back on my mustard-stained cheerleading shoes for the first time in three years to gab about my favourite time travellers and to bring you a recap of what went down in our very first episode of what looks like a very captivating season. (Thanks, Hilary!)

Before we go anywhere new with our team this season, we’re situated a little ways before we left off: back in 1888, with an unfortunately dead Rufus. And Jiya, holding him, and Wyatt. It’s agonizing. We find out why they left him there, which satisfied me, because I wondered why they didn’t just haul him home for a funeral. But they can’t do that. They can’t take more than 4 people in the Lifeboat, even if one’s dead. And, also, they’re being shot at and they gotta run.

And then you realize it’s all just someone’s nightmarish flashback. And that the opening credits haven’t even rolled and you’re already on the edge of your seat. (No, there was no time to get up and make popcorn, not yet).

Next, we find ourselves where we actually left off: in our lovely little bunker with Bearded Wyatt and Bobbed Lucy and… whatever that ship is they came here in, and wherever it is they came from. I have to admit, while it was frustrating that future!Lyatt can’t tell us much, when Lara Croft – I’m sorry, Lucy– told our team that they have to save Rufus, because “everything depends on it”, I cracked a big grin. THEN SHE SAID THE TIMELINE IS COLLAPSING? (Oh look, if it isn’t the consequences of their own actions.)

Although we can blame a lot on Emma, as in, almost everything bad– that one, maybe not (although, now that I think about it… not Emma per se, but Rittenhouse….). We find Emma strutting into a Rittenhouse boardroom meeting like the power boss she is (hating her and admiring her aren’t mutually exclusive), where we, and she, meet Mike Temple. He wants to take Rittenhouse to new, quite frankly scary heights. His visions of bringing Rittenhouse into the present, with things such as a Rittenhouse app and flashy advertising, make me shudder. And I think that’s the point. "America is Rittenhouse, Rittenhouse is America,” he says. Oh, Mike Temple, you are unfortunate but true, aren’t you?

There are two scenes of future!Lyatt having really profound conversations with their past selves, AND the first one starts off with them acknowledging The Beard and the fact that Lucy looks like Lara Croft. Wyatt isn’t too happy with the situation, overall, he’s too macho for therapy (as a student currently in a clinical counselling course, *shakes head*) And Flynn referring to future!Wyatt as “Wild Wild Wyatt,” I cracked up. Now while it won’t come till much later in the episode, I’ll skip ahead. Future!Lucy and current Lucy’s conversation had to be one of my favourite scenes of the episode. The way she tells her younger self, "I’m proud of you, you know. You’ve already been so brave. So strong.” Ugh, my heart. Lucy needed that, and she needs a hug. Our poor girl is so broken and she just, she needed that.

Anyway, finally, the mission to #SaveRufus. It seems to be straightforward, right? What can go wrong except everything, right? They know how to pre-program the Lifeboat, so they don’t need a pilot. They have a plan. They have Flynn, and they have Wyatt, and they have… Connor. We have the best “ragtag rescue team” we could ask for. What can go wrong except everything? Well first of all, no one accounted for a Little Not-Red Riding Hood to appear out of literally nowhere and shift the atmosphere. Not to mention, she brings potions with her! Hocus Pocus, she saves Rufus?! I have a theory on this mysterious mage, but I’ll hold my tongue (also, everyone, please give a warm welcome to Tiera Skovbye as our new young blonde heroine, Jane). Does anyone else have guesses about who she may be, or how she got there? I’d love to hear them. And, the guys didn’t exactly account for weird time continuum shifts, being spotted, or not being able to get home. This mission may have been stressful for them but it was stressful for us too, “YOU’RE TOO LATE, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE TOO LATE?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE STUCK, YOU CAN’T BE STUCK, GET UNSTUCK!” But our super smart little chickadee Jiya saved their asses, even if she was going through something funky back in the bunker (uh, not to mention grief). Something funky back in the bunker, like the girls experiencing some unsettled memory loss as the timeline changes and leaves them behind. That’s some scary shit.

Back on that discussion Lara Croft and Lucy had, that I touched on earlier. Lara cared to share that the reason Rufus’ salvation was so dire was not only because duh he’s the backbone and pilot of the team, Wyatt and Lucy’s best friend, Connor’s pseudo-son, and the love of Jiya’s life, but because his big brain is the one to stop the timeline from becoming one big split end and splintering off in an unknown amount of unpredictable directions. But that wasn’t the most unsettling thing Lara Croft said (before we continue here– I’m calling her Lara Croft because, hello, but that haircut actually really suits her.) And then there was that other thing she slipped in, when she starts talking about Lucy’s car accident in college, and “the second time, it wasn’t an accident.” Pardon me, Lara? And then she just– poof, into thin air, gone. At least she left on a high note, I suppose.

I will admit, I faded toward the end of the episode, not because of a quality drop, but because I got a headache and backache and a case of the Sunday Scaries. BUT, what gave me LIFE– that #RiyaReunion. Ohhh my Godddd (yes, I just said that like Janice from Friends) it was everything I hoped it would be and more– cleared my skin, watered my crops... I might’ve shed a tear (maybe it’s allergy season, maybe it’s Rufus and Jiya). Now I’ll admit I’m a damn sucker for them, but isn’t everyone?

One last thing that stuck with me, amongst others, was when Rufus was walking down the hall in his PJs, with the flickering fluorescents. This experience is not going to go gently in that good night, it is not going to pass without its repercussions. As it shouldn’t. This is a big freakin’ deal. What they are doing, is a big freakin deal, and what we, as Clockblockers, have done is a big freakin deal. A big props to everyone who is still here and will continue to be here. Catch another episode of Timeless Season 3– coined by the masterful, ever impressive Hilary @qqueenofhades– next Sunday at 8pm EST, and another one of these reviews to follow shortly after! (If you want to come talk about the episode with me, you can find me on Tumblr @only-freakin-sunflowers. You can also find me on AO3, @only_freakin_donuts!)

(One actual LAST thing I have to mention because somehow I never found space for it in my ramble… Flynn reading Harry Potter to his daughter?! COMING FOR MY HEART.)

#timeless #timeless s3 #3x01 #episode recap

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terry-perry · 7 years ago

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Stay with Me pt. 2

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Gore and violence well-known to the series, harsh language, death, much angst!

Levi made it to his designated area, his breath hitching at the horrid sight. Dismembered bodies scattered all over the ground, those barely alive groaning in agony. He hurriedly turned his head when a sudden Titan appeared from behind a tree, approaching him at a fast pace.

“Like hell, shitface!” He exclaimed.

He urged his horse to go around and managed to get behind the giant creature, only barely missing its hands as it bent over to try to grab him. He got his ODM gear ready and launched one of the hooks to the Titan’s back. The other hook was released and made it to one of the shoulders. Going into the air, Levi spun out and split open the nape of its neck in a swift motion. It fell down and began to steam along with the blood Levi gathered from it.

Just as he was about to call for his horse, a small herd of Titans came rushing towards him from the nearby trees, having hidden as well. Levi shot off a smoke signal and, once the monsters were close enough, he used his gear to maneuver his way to one and went at it again. He was able to fight them off with hardly any issues, but may have overestimated how much he could handle since he was currently panting heavily and was down to his last pair of blades.

“Damn it!” He cursed. “Well, it’s a good thing I had shot off that flare. Everyone else should be here soon.”

He called for his horse and hopped on when it came, directing it to go to a nearby abandoned shed. He used his gear to go on top of it in order to have a good view of anything heading in his direction. He tried to plan out what to do in case there were more Titans that came. He at least had a fair amount of gas, so maybe he could outmaneuver them. That was the best case scenario.

“Captain?”

Unexpected, Levi turned around with his last pair of blades at the ready. His sight was welcomed by a cadet climbing up to join him on the roof of the shed. He recognized the young man.

“O’Hara,” he greeted him in his usual deadpan manner. “Probably the only time I can say that I’m pleased to see you.”

The socially inept person he was, O’Hara laughed at the Captain’s comment. He had been a thorn in Levi’s side since transferring to the Scouts from the Military Police. He had been one of the members that “helped” in rescuing Eren from Reiner and Bertolt. In other words, running away from the danger as everyone else received the brunt of it. No doubt, it’s what happened again to help keep him alive.

“Was it you who set off the smoke signals?” Levi asked.

“Yes sir. I did so as soon as we were attacked by a swarm of Abnormals. Luckily, I was able to evade any real damage and escaped. But Unfortunately, my tanks had run out of gas trying to get away. I used the last of it to get here and hide.”

Pushing down the eye roll and scoff he very much wanted to release, Levi merely nodded at O’Hara and looked ahead. There didn’t seem to be anything to worry about at the moment.

“I have the opposite problem,” He then stated. “I used up majority of my blades fighting off a bunch of Titans, so I’m down to my last pair. I blasted off a flare not that long ago; my squad should be on their way now. I still have some gas left. If you have your blades, we could possibly make it to them with hardly any issues.”

“You want me to give you my blades sir?” O’Hara asked, head tilted in confusion.

“Yes. I have my horse. It’s best that we ride together. I’ll handle any Titans that cross our path. You just keep riding and don’t stop as you go to meet with everyone.”

Levi got himself ready to jump off the shed until turning to see O’Hara standing where he was unmoved and in deep thought.

“What is it?” Levi asked impatiently. ““It’s dangerous to stay here out in the open. Best if we get moving.”

Biting his lip nervously, O’Hara shifted his eyes to look at his superior.

“Well, sir, with all due respect, wouldn’t it be pretty bad if you were the one appearing to do all the work while I seem like a sort of damsel in distress type?”

“Excuse me?” Levi inquired, not believing that he heard something so stupid. “So what exactly do you suggest?”

“Well, perhaps I can lead us there. I think I can try to fight off any Titans that come our way. Especially given your exhausted state. I’ll wear the gear while you ride us to your squad.”

Mouth slightly agape and a brow quirked up, Levi stared at the cadet with disbelief. His eyes then rapidly narrowed as he glared at him with pure disdain. His hands grabbed the collar of O’Hara’s shirt and stung him with that same hateful expression.

“You know something O’Hara,” he began in a low growl. “I don’t like you. In fact, I can go as far to say that I hate you. Which is something rather new to me. I may lack respect or simply not give a shit about someone, but never hated. Want to know why you’re so special? Because you’re nothing more than a selfish coward who only cares about keeping up a good appearance and making a decent title for yourself no matter how you get it as long as you don’t really have to work for it. You may think you’re above those who actually fight to make an effort, but we’re all the same to the Titans. I can easily leave you for them; I’m sure no one would bat an eye over your death.”

O’Hara gulped loudly upon hearing the Captain’s threat, visibly shaking and eyes bulging out. Levi’s grip on him loosened somewhat, taking note of his reaction.

“But that’s not the kind of person I am,” he went on to say. “So instead, I’m going to give you a choice. You can either wait here with your demise, or come with me.”

O’Hara said nothing, remaining silent, staring at Levi with a baffled expression. Eventually, he bent down to retrieve his blades out of his ODM gear in a sulk. Levi nodded in response before settling his eyes back at the area around them.

“You may not go back looking like a hero, but I’ll let everyone know of your coope- UGH!”

He was cut off by a strangled groan forced out of him as O’Hara pierced one of his blades in Levi’s shoulder blade. Quickly Levi reeled his foot back, knocking O’Hara off his feet. However, the cadet wrapped an arm around his neck, bringing the two of them down. They wrestled for a bit, attempting to get out of the other’s grip. Levi attained the upper hand as he spun around and swiftly took out the blade in his shoulder, cursing of course from the pain resulting from it. Seeing him falter due to the injury, O’Hara saw his chance and grabbed his wrist, putting a stop to any further action.

“Forgive me Captain,” he muttered, eye to eye with Levi who was over him with the bloody blade inches away from his chest. “As much as I respect you, it seems only one of us is meant to make it back.”

“Rather it be neither of us getting back than letting you go, you pathetic worm!” Levi uttered darkly, using all his power to have the weapon stab the man underneath him.

Yet the more blood he loss, coupled with the fighting he had done from their struggle, the weaker he became. O’Hara noticed this when seeing the blade wavering in his hand, not able to properly make aim for his target. Thinking to use this to his advantage, he reached up with his other hand. What he planned to do, though, was put to a stop as Levi forced enough energy to bring the blade down, right into his chest. He held onto it, his eyes glued to O’Hara’s, watching him shudder and the blood beginning to spurt out of his mouth.

“You were never a true soldier O’Hara,” Levi told him. “But even you deserve some form of mercy.”

Thinking he made him suffer enough for his attempted mutiny, Levi released the blade from his chest and let the blood spew out hurriedly until O’Hara’s body gave out, ending his life. Weakly, Levi crawled over to the edge of the shed and jumped off. He made it to his horse, but abruptly fell to the ground only a couple feet away from it, scaring it off.

It’s probably best. Levi thought to himself, his vision blurring. With all the shit I’ve done, with the lives I’ve taken, this seems like a fitting end for me.

The grass underneath him darkened with his blood. A few tears fell down and flowed across his cheeks. He continued staring up at the sky.

Y/N, I’m sorry for not getting back to you. But please stay strong. If not for me, do it for Eric. Eric…be there for your mother. Be…better than me…

————

It was awfully quiet when the squad made it, like someone had turned down a switch that shut off everything around them. They searched around the area for anything until Hanji spoke up.

“Y/N…” she called out in a hushed voice, not trusting it to stay stable.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N rose up to from where she was to direct herself to her friend, concerned about her sudden shaken up state.

She walked towards her, apprehension fueling her when seeing her remain silent and crouched down next to a body. Her attention went to the body, a lump forming in her throat at seeing who it was. She dropped down to her knees, her horror-stricken eyes filling with tears as she looked down at the still and bloody body of her husband.

“I-Is there any way…?” She asked in a hoarse murmur, unable to finish her question.

“No,” Hanji answered just as emotional. “He’s lost too much blood. I’m afraid…”

She couldn’t finish her sentence. She stood up with her hand over her mouth, pushing back in the sob that wanted to break free.

The rest of the group came to see what was going on. They all possessed almost identical looks of utter shock, seeing their Captain in such a state. Armin urgently whipped out his flare gun and was about to shoot a smoke signal before being stopped by Hanji whose hand went over the weapon. Wordlessly, she shook her head while her eyes stayed connected to the heartbreaking scene in front of them. Y/N didn’t mind them, appearing to not even notice they were there as she scooted closer to Levi’s body and scooping him up in her arms.

“Levi,” she croaked out. “Baby Bear, speak to me.”

She knew time was running out, but hearing his shallow labored breathing meant she could get at least one more moment with him no matter how brief. Even if it was just to chastise her for using his private pet name in front of others, or to look at her in disgust for covering herself in his blood…she just wanted something. He stirred weakly, fluttering his eyelids lightly before gazing up at her.

“Y/N…” he managed softly.

“I’m here sweetheart,” she panted, staring down with a faint smile. “I’m right here.”

He didn’t try to grin back, but with what little strength he had left, he reached up to cup the side of her face. She leaned her cheek to his palm, taking into account how warm his touch still was. She watched his lips shake with effort to form words.

“Stay…strong…”

With one more shudder, he rasped out his last breath. The hand holding his beloved’s face slackened until dropping to the ground with an audible thud. His dark eyes lost all depth to them, leaving them to appear empty and blank.

“Please…” she pleaded in a whisper, keeping his bloody form in her arms. “Please don’t leave me.”

Yet she knew that no matter how many times she called for him, he was already gone.

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xcaneolupusx · 7 years ago

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Reborn! Secret Bullet : mono.CHROME [Part 2]

Part [ 1 | 2 | 3 ]

Back again with part two! This time we get.... Flashback! Yay!

A big thank you (and a hug, if you want) to everyone who liked / reblogged the first part. Please spread the Kokuyo and KHR love guys! >_>

Japanese scan provided by @squaloscans, thank you very much!

[ translation under cut }

“Geez, that Kakipii, why is he so serious byon. Just eat your glasses to replenish some calcium.”

At a park in the evening.

Joshima Ken was lying on the grass while eyeing the reddening sky.

From his mouth, an uncharacteristically weak sigh slipped out.

“Mukuro-san…”

Ten days ago―

In order for Ken and Chikusa to escape from the Vendicare Prison, Mukuro had acted as a decoy and was once again captured.

To break him out, both of them were about to carry out a reckless rescue operation.

It was then, just before they can go through with the plan.

While Ken was in the middle of a nap, Mukuro appeared in his dream.

―Go find the other me.

Chikusa, too, received the same message.

With Mukuro’s special ability, he can pass his order through the spirit world.

It was so sudden. Although both of them were puzzled, Mukuro’s orders were absolute.

Thus, they both suspended the rescue operation, and traveled to the place that Mukuro instructed them to―

They came back to Japan.

“What’s up with that, another Mukuro-san… It doesn’t make any sense byon.”

Ken and Chikusa spent all of their time outside sleeping and eating searching for information concerning ‘the other Mukuro’.

But they couldn’t find a single clue.

“...Mukuro-san…”

His eyelids slowly drooped.

Leaning down tiredly, Ken fell asleep.

For Ken, there was one memory regarding Mukuro that he would never be able to forget.

It was the first night he spent with Mukuro and Chikusa after they escaped from the Estraneo’s demonic human experiment.

Ken and Chikusa, hiding in the abandoned garbage dump, could do nothing but tremble.

The thing that still controlled them both was fear.

Treated as a guinea pig since as far as they can remembered, resisting meant instant death, and even not resisting might still result in death.

That sort of fear, in just a small amount of time, nothing can really be done to make it go away.

Even now, they were still afraid that their mafia pursuer would appear from the darkness across the street.

They were still afraid that they would have to go back to that hell.

The moment that person showed up, was when that fear reached its peak.

――!!!

Ken let out a soundless scream. Next to him, Chikusa silently lost consciousness.

However, the one who appeared wasn’t a pursuer.

It was Mukuro.

Mukuro had disappeared without saying anything, and now he was back.

Held within his hands were a lot of apples, ripe and red.

Mukuro, with his trademark faint smile, handed an apple over to Ken.

His stomach made a rumbling sound, but Ken made no move to accept the apple.

Even though he was the one who killed all the Estraneo adults and bailed them out from that place, Ken still didn’t completely trust Mukuro.

Is this some kind of trap?

For so many years, this fear was carved into him, and naturally, it instilled him with wariness.

―You aren’t going to eat?

Mukuro, not sounding particularly disappointed, brought the apple up to his own mouth.

The sound of him biting vibrated in Ken’s ears.

Little by little… The apple disappeared into those small lips.

Ken was unable to take his eyes off that scene.

His tongue started to extend from his mouth towards the ground.

―Now eat.

Before he realized it, a brand new apple was thrusted in front of Ken’s face.

Ken took the apple into his hand.

Without any hesitation, he chomped down.

After that, he earnestly wolfed down the mountain of apples as if he was in a trance, fulfilling his hunger. When he came to his senses, Chikusa, like Ken, was also eating apples intently.

The taste of those apples, he would never forget for the rest of his life.

He would never be able to forget it.

It was… his contract with Mukuro.

“......Nn”

Still drowsy from his sleep, the scene of sunset registered faintly in Ken’s eyes.

Seeing as the sun hadn’t yet completely dropped off, it seemed that he didn’t fell asleep for very long.

But――

“Aa?”

Ken had just realized.

With the sunset sky as the background, someone was looking down on him.

“Nn? Nnnnnnn!?”

Furthermore, under his own head was something that felt soft, warm, and comfortable. Something that he was sure hasn’t been there before.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?!!!”

Ken cried out in surprise and jumped from the spot.

“L-L-Lap...laplaplaplaplaplap...”

It was his first time, having someone else’s lap as a pillow.

No matter how tired he was, he couldn’t believe that he allowed a stranger to come so close.

“.........”

The girl, who seemed like she was around the same age as Ken, looked at him vacantly.

Since he couldn’t see her legs on the ground, this girl gave off the impression like she was drifting.

A bland blouse with no fancy decoration, long dark hair [1] that looked like it hasn’t been cut in a while, large and round left eye peeking out from the bang, and right eye covered by a gauze eyepatch.

“Wh-wh-what do you want, you bastard!!!”

Ken quickly thrusted out his hand, intending to keep the girl away from him.

“Ah…”

Thud.

The hand Ken shot out hit the girl on her forehead.

The girl fell down on her back with no resistance at all.

“D-Don’t just fell down like that byon! You… Just from this much…”

“.....”

The girl said nothing.

She didn’t even move an inch after falling down.

“Ugh!?”

―Is she dead!? No way, to die from something like this…

“Uwah!”

The girl rose up without any warning.

“...It hurts…”

Rubbing her forehead, the girl mumbled with no emotion.

“........”

After a period of astonishment, Ken returned to himself.

“You, who the hell are you byon!? Why did you, to me… t-to me…”

Confused and not knowing what to say, he ended up scratching his head in frustration.

“Aaah, whatever, anyway, why did you do such a thing to me byon!!! Why byon!!! Just why, byon!!!!!!”

“........”

The girl replied with a blank face.

“...Because you looked like you were dead.”

“Ah?”

“You die… Poor thing.”

Those words that sounded like they didn’t went through any thought process at all just angered Ken even further.

“Wha, what kind of reason is that? You take me for a stray cat or what!”

“...”

“Don’t look at me with eye that says ‘aren’t you?’ dammit!!!”

Ken couldn’t find a place to take his anger out on, so he settled with flailing around and roaring.

Weird!

This woman is absolutely weird!

Even Ken, who knew nothing at all about woman, could certainly tell that much.

This woman in front of him! This… unreasonable woman!

This woman, no matter what anyone says, is…

Grrrrrrrr…….

“...Uh”

Ken immediately stopped flailing.

“........”

Blushing faintly, he glanced at the girl.

“...‘Grrr’ ?”

“!”

The girl tilted her head slightly, at her words, Ken’s blush got even deeper.

She heard…

Ken wanted to crouch down to hide his embarrassment.

“...Are you…hungry?”

“I-I-I-It’s none of your business...”

“...You’ll die.”

“I won’t die!!! Stop saying I’ll die over and over already!!! Listen! I’m not like you who’s just a weak woman...”

Ken’s words were interrupted.

“......”

When he saw the thing the girl offered to him silently.

It was an apple, ripe and red enough to rivaled the sunset.

“Ah…”

Apple―

Same with the one Mukuro gave him back then… Fruits that shine like jewels―

Before he could think, his hands were already stretching out.

As soon as he got the apple from the girl, he bit down, forgetting himself completely.

“Ugh!”

Ken was shedding tears.

Without realizing it, surprisingly large drops of tears were falling down.

“Ah… Wha…What is this… Why… Why…”

Ken wiped his face roughly with his dirty sleeves, then he turned his back on the girl and ran away.

Even though tears kept falling down, he ran.

He didn’t understand anything.

Truly… He didn’t understand.

[1] : This actually says ‘black hair’ but to avoid confusion, I’ll go with ‘dark hair’ instead.

And that’s one less part to translate! We’re about halfway there already! \o/

This here is why I like the Kokuyo Gang, almost all of them are tsundere, especially Mukuro. *shot*

Go on, keep saying you don’t care about them while you do everything in your power to keep those boys (and girls) fed and free and alive, you magnificent bastard.

Seriously though, Ken swearing loyalty over apples is so sweet and so... Ken. lolol

Part [ 1 | 2 | 3 ]

#my translation #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #Rokudo Mukuro #Kakimoto Chikusa #Joshima Ken #Chrome Dokuro #khr secret bullet #Kokuyo gang

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suzid-blog1 · 7 years ago

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JUST FINISHED TOWER OF DAWN… (SPOILERS, BTW)

I'm not gonna go on and on about the book, I'm sure we all can at least concede that its not her best... I'm not gonna whine about when authors seem to go from caring about their books to caring about their banks (I did that enough when A Court of Wings and Ruin came out) but...oh, ok maybe I'll bitch just a lil. Come on! Soooo much happens usually in these books. Empire of Storms we had all those battles, LITERALLY A BOATLOAD of awesome characters- Elide and Lorcan running around having adventures of their own- The 13, and the other Ironteeth. Then at the end, Rowans fam, Ansel and her peeps, Silent Assassins, and Galan Ashryver, who who was in like 2 pages and already I'm more interested than any of the royal family of...where were they? Antica? Who gives af. I mean, Chaol and Nesryn were probably the most boring characters in Queen of Shadows, now they get a whole REALLY LONG book where not much at all happens. They break up- no one shed a tear for that, did you? Anyone? Thought not. Chaol was still being a stuffy a-hole. Then they both hook up with someone else. (Again, did anyone care? Nope.) Can anyone even remember those peoples names? Oh, yeah, Yrene of course, but the best thing about the whole return of her character WASN'T EVEN IN THE DAMN BOOK! She didnt find out it was Aelin that hooked her up. It was like the last page before Chaol even figured it out! Ugh. Bottom line, she shoulda left it as a novella. I'm invested in this series, like everyone else, and I enjoyed the other books- not so much the novellas, but we expect that from them. They're lil fillers while we wait for books (and extra paychecks for authors) but dont ruin a series by sticking a looong, drawn-out, boring book right in the middle. Just...dont. BUT THE WORST, THE ABSOLUTE WORST... To just slam right in the middle... "Maeve is Valg"!?! COME ON! FIRST OF ALL... NOOOOO! Don't have her be Valg. Come on. Second, some character already suggested that (very obvious) possibility and it was shut down. And I thought Thank the Gods. I thought we were gonna get something different and original. But the worst, if this IS gonna be the big secret- why reveal it like that? To Nesryn? In THIS book? SjM wouldnt reveal to Yrene that Aelin was her savior (I'm assuming cos she wants a bigger reveal?) But drops this MAJOR BOMB just like -...pfft. How disappointing. I've been reading a lot of books lately that have left me feeling just...disappointed. Does anyone got anything good to recommend for me? I'm about to re-read Queen of Shadows for a lil Aedion rescue, (then Lysandra rescue, then Chaol rescue, then Rowan save, then Aedion and Rowan rescue/save, then Elide rescue, then Dorian rescue and Chaol save...u see why Tower of Dawn is just...lacking?) But if anyones read anything good lately, plz lemme know! Thanks! Come on ToG #7! I hope its a good one- with about 200 principal characters now, and a huge amount of OTP's (good lord, think how many porny faerie sex scenes that is- how long is this book s'posed to be?) 2 Aelin's... its gonna be a HUGE challenge. I am keeping my fingers crossed and really, really hoping SJM brings it for this one. I really dont want a whole bunch of loose ends and shit up in the air that shes gonna throw into spin-offs. I would rather this series get extended, and I never thought I'd say that! (this gif has nothin to do with this post, book or author. But who needs an excuse for a lil jon snow?)

#tower of dawn #sjmaas #sjm #throne of glass #chaol westfall #chaol x yrene #maeve #wtf #empire of storms

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quiescentgale · 7 years ago

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「 ※ Winds && Stars carrying on

⋨ ⌣ x ⌢ ⋩ @dethiux ※ 」

Garlic. An essential part of an Italian family home where cooking is the utmost best way to show love. An interesting ingredient that could be used for various amounts of sauces for their ever loving pasta dishes. Not to mention, it could have been used in so many other dishes or medical remedies! However, when it came to the elements of ice scream, Vanitas could have sworn off the stuff for the rest of his life. The male before him might have meant well, and he wasn’t the type to turn down a wholesome gift. Though, a man’s limit was his (limit )! ❛ What the hel– who decided to make a garlic flavor? ❜ Accent thick as the day he was born, the male wondered was the other trying to make a joke out of something or rather he really wasn’t meaning no harm by giving him all of these treats. Either way, Vanitas took the offered items within his glove covered hand and proceeded to open at least one of them. ❛ I guess I should thank you. ❜

Did he usually accept gifts from strangers, especially food? Well, no, but the fact that the other looked so much like his younger brother ( Ventus ) made the raven want to trust him. A sigh slowly moved past his lips, as he opened the first flavor. Strawberry was his favorite, and not because the fruit was implied by so many people to be something of sexual manner. No, no and no. He loved it because it reminded him of his childhood, back when his father took him to the vineyards where he grew up. Back to when his mother wasn’t sick like she was now, and back to when his life was so much easier to handle. How odd such a small gesture of a treat could bring back so many fond ( memories ) of a time where he was the most happiest. Lately, he’s done nothing but live in the past, worship the people that no longer exist in his perimeter, and get caught up on the so many ‘ what if’s ‘. It was nice to leave all of that behind for but a simple moment.

❛ I can’t remember when I stopped to have ice cream like this. ❜ Silly, of him to allow himself to drift along like this. What if the other could have been a spy? What if he was just using ( prosthetic’s ) to make himself look like an older version of his kid brother!? It could have been done, it has been done before! People within the assassin bureau has come up with many different ways to out do each other! Vanitas paused while eating, lowering his golden orbs towards Ven before taking another bite. ❛ Come to think of it, who might you be? ❜ No, he wasn’t going to attack him, not when there were so many people around. Too many witnesses to make a fatal attack now, and it wasn’t wise to tarnish his work ethics now of all places. ❛ It’s not ‘a every day people give others ‘a treat ya see. . ❜

The other would understand, no? He was after all, the head of his father’s clan. A natural born heir to the whole Vaniti era. He had to be cautious, especially until he had born an heir for himself. And most importantly, what the heck was up with that darn garlic flavor? ‘ Who the hell in their right minds would give me this?’ He thought, over and over while finishing the other treat. Now working on the banana flavored one, a complete ( glutton ) even if he would have denied it until the day he died. ‘ Maybe I am being to conscience about this, he’s just a dude who gave me something nice. .’ Ugh, since when did he become such a fking sap? ❛ Ya know, don’t even answer that question. Most of all, you didn’t see me. ❜ He slowly got up from the bench he was sitting at, ready to head for his car still waiting at the parking meter. A nerve twitched as he paused, looking back towards the other – serious, but not really.

❛ Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill you. ❜

▹ ☆ Vanitas ☆ ◃

✣ 「ヴェン」 ❦❧ �� Something about this ‘Vanitas’ that sounded so entirely wrong in Ventus’ ears, yet the blond brushed it off, as he was too much eagerly seeing the man, his darker half here, and A L I V E not like when Ventus have shattered them both, and crushed his hope; no matter what beautiful lies Xehanort had promised. The desperate hopelessness within his eyes were enough to break his fragment of a heart a thousand times over. Poorly in misjudging his other half, if only the Wayward Wind Master had understood him more... looked passed the threats, the insults, the bitterness, and anger... there was just someone who wished to be whole, someone who wanted with great desperation for the pain to stop... and Ventus being black and white, had not seen the hurting... had been nothing but cold stone C R U E L rejection, upon rejection... and ended him. And that... had no way been 「 S a l v a t i o n 」, no way Vanitas had deserve any of that and... It was just plainly out of necessity...

“W-Wait! Wait a minute!” Snapping his head up, realizing that he was leaving and Ventus... Ventus have so many questions. So many times to say. A thousand words begging to be spoken... yet, his throat constricted and clamp up. Sputtering and stuttering, nothing came out nothing but unintelligent and dumb questions. “You’re... You’re Vanitas, aren’t you?” Of course he is, you dummy! Reprimanding himself in his own head. Nervously eclipse the friendliness mannerism prior. “Please don’t go,” Not again. Not before he could ushered out those words from his Hearts. Ventus needed to say those words before he can rest at ease. “I was... really surprised that you’re... a-alive,” but how could he? ‘I struck him down didn’t I?’ Someone please explain to him how can there be more Vanitas around if not THAT him? His looks were the say. His speech pattern, the death threat, his awkwardness in mannerism, ( Even if his accent was a little strange ) lack of friendliness and usual crude usage of words, how can this N o t be Vanitas?

“But, you’re here! And I’m glad,” Boldly, something Ventus had never done before, taken ‘Vanitas’ arm in his, halting anymore steps to move away, staring hopefully up at his taller darker half, continuously convincing himself, this is him. Blindly seeking out that single forgiveness. Not out of selfish self satisfaction, but he needed his other half to know the truth, needed him to U n d e r s t a n d , had Ventus had another option, never forced into that no way out corner... then things would have been different. “I know it is a little strange. Especially coming from me, but please, I need you to hear me out.” Ignoring at the by standers or passing by crowds, watching as if they were watching a novelty movie being played in front of them; Men and women seemed to find the scene more a little romantic misunderstanding, but Ventus ignored them all. His world, zoned onto this single person here.

“Can’t you... just please give me a chance?”

To make up for the pain he’d caused, the suffering silently inflicted upon, and the tears he’d seen Vanitas shed. The gut wrenching feeling doubled and it wasn’t just an echo anymore. Just was deafening. A hollow aching that won’t leave, but the V o i d becoming larger. Wider. C o n s u m i n g . Eroding away at what’s left of his fragment of a heart. even now, Ventus can feel it crumbling away underneath his feet. It was repentance for the Light that ended his Darkness. No Yang can live without their Yin, Ventus had finally understand the full gravity of it now. “Please?”

#dethiux #quiescentgale #Reversed verse #((ah idk if this even compared to your reply ;v;#Ventus is just an emotional wreck #and blindly ignoring this isn't his Vanitas))#≸ ◈ ✪ 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 have 𝓐𝔀𝓪𝓴𝒆𝓷𝒆𝓭 - Qυıeš¢eит Шind no 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 - But a ƓᗩĿƐ ✪ ◈ ≹

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