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sundayswiththeilluminati · 3 years ago

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The unplanned fourth part to my apparently-a-series on Essek Thelyss in the context of real-world espionage (parts 1, 2, and 3), today we look at an aspect of his story that doesn’t always apply in a D&D world: how do you prosecute espionage?

Psych! That’s not the real question. The real question is: do you prosecute espionage? The answer is a) not as obvious as it might seem; and b) going to differ between D&D and the real world, because D&D governments are storytelling tools and IRL governments are...not.

The benefits of prosecuting espionage are obvious: the interests of justice are served, the person responsible can be punished appropriately and in accordance with the law, the full extent of their crimes are revealed (including potentially exonerating other suspects), counterintelligence gets to chalk up a win, and other people thinking about committing espionage themselves are hopefully discouraged. But there are a surprising number of arguments in the “against” column.

Some agencies that identify enemy assets want to leave them in place for their own purposes. For about 20 years during the Cold War CIA reserved the right to just plain not tell the Department of Justice if they had proof someone was engaged in espionage because they wanted the opportunity to turn them as double agents, feed them misinformation, etc. rather than outing and punishing them (President Gerald Ford ended this arrangement by executive order in 1976). This isn’t necessarily a good idea IRL, but it forms the bread and butter of RPG espionage storylines and is definitely something to think about in a D&D context.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after a trial, and an agency often finds itself with sufficient evidence to doubt a person’s trustworthiness but not enough hard proof to take to court. In those cases agencies may decide to leave that person in place but cut off their access to classified info. Ironically, sometimes this means promoting them - moving the person into a higher-ranking job in a different area that just so happens not to deal in secrets. Sometimes the asset realizes they’re close to being rumbled and goes along with the effort, maybe taking retirement early or changing jobs before they can be pushed, and the whole matter will quietly lapse without anything so formal as a trial. Sometimes someone makes a mistake and sidelines a loyal, competent employee. That’s a judgement call.

In the real world, ideally someone can only be found guilty of a crime and punished accordingly after an open trial. Given how severe the punishments are for espionage, civilized countries do try to stick to that even though holding such a trial carries risks. Providing proof that someone stole secrets generally requires talking about said secrets, which means revealing classified info in court, which may negate trying to keep the information secret in the first place. They may also not want to reveal in court how they figured out that person was a spy, especially if it was a double agent or cryptographic source that fingered them. In D&D-land where monarchs are common and still wield judicial power, fantasy rulers may hand down whatever punishment they please based on whatever evidence they (or the DM) will accept, so this isn’t as much of a concern.

Even a D&D monarchy that doesn’t have to worry about revealing secrets in court might think twice before publicly punishing a high-ranking spy, though, because the only thing more embarrassing than failing to convict a major spy is succeeding. A government having to admit that its people were compromised, especially high-ranking people, is a body-blow to its standing both at home and abroad. It damages trust in the government, makes the public feel unsafe, and makes allies hesitant to share information lest their secrets be leaked as well. Lower-ranking government employees may think, “My boss is selling secrets, why not me too?” or “Why bother to follow security protocol when some mole will give it all away?” Every decision and contribution made by the asset becomes retroactively suspect, even those that had nothing to do with whatever secrets they leaked. The foreign nation to whom they passed information inevitably gets drawn in as well, negatively affecting those relations. And of course everyone involved looks very, very bad.

All of which leads me to say I think there’s a chance - maybe not a good chance, but a chance - that Essek could privately confess the affair to the Bright Queen without major public repercussions. Leylas Kryn could simply declare him a traitor and order his public execution without justifying herself, but it would raise a lot of questions and none of the answers would help her or the ruling dens; Den Thelyss allowing Den Kryn to unilaterally execute a high-profile member - a child of the umavi - without explanation would stoke ferocious rumors about what Essek might have done and cast a major shadow over the entire den. But publicly declaring what Essek had done also doesn’t do the Dynasty any favors. It makes everyone involved look very bad - how could they miss a spy at the highest level? so close to the Bright Queen herself?? who can be trusted??? - especially Den Thelyss, which might lose its place among the ruling three as a result. Publicly outing such a high-ranking Kryn official as compromised might set off the Dynasty equivalent of a Red Scare, too, since the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount mentions the constant and well-justified Dynasty fear of agents sent by Lolth to destabilize the Kryn out of sheer spite that they got away from her.

By the time Campaign 2 ended the latest clash between Empire and Dynasty had been settled and neither side seemed to want to stir it up again right away. The fact that both stolen beacons have been returned also bolsters the case for letting the matter lie. A confession from Essek clears up remaining doubt on the Bright Queen’s end - while he doesn’t know every Empire agent in the Dynasty, he can tell her exactly how the beacons were stolen and who else was involved, probably clearing the names of many currently under suspicion. Essek would have to resign as Shadowhand, of course, and leave the Dynasty (at least for a couple centuries), but he never seemed interested in being Shadowhand and he wants to go exploring anyway. Den Thelyss definitely wants the whole affair swept under the rug and would go along with whatever story made that happen. Other than Verin I don’t get the impression many people would miss Essek except as a lost opportunity. I hope they’d give him long enough before leaving Rosohna to pack up his cool leyline-weathervane though. He could totally mount that on Yussa’s tower. Or Allura’s!

And that concludes this particular train of thought re: Essek Thelyss in the context of IRL spies and espionage. Again, all of this is only as relevant to the campaign as the players decide it is, so don’t go giving people crap for being “unrealistic” about their versions of how the beacon trade went down. Frankly the last thing you should want here is realism, because “realistic” espionage is a callous world of deception, manipulation, and general human pettiness with no sense of narrative flow.

None of what I’ve talked about is an excuse for Essek’s actions. But it is a reason. It’s why and how a person entrusted with precious national assets could get into a headspace where it seems reasonable, even necessary, to trade them away to foreign enemies. It’s how a person of otherwise decent character & beliefs can end up committing terrible crimes. It’s why that person might sincerely regret what they’ve done, and not just because they fear punishment. The Warmind Rasputin paraphrases Octavia E. Butler saying, “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own ecstasies of growth and decay.” In other words: sometimes you get too far into your own head. Without an anchor to reality, without perspective, your own mind gets twisted up. Sometimes you just need a friend (or seven) to grab your arm and say, “Breathe.”

(This accidentally turned into a series on Essek & IRL espionage: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4)

#Critical Role #Critical Role spoilers #not really but just to be safe #Essek Thelyss #CR meta #hey let's talk about Cold War espionage!#trufax #And That's What I Think About That.#words words words #I hope you like words #this poor foolish drow #bless this dumbass #it's been a long pandemic

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tsrookie · 3 years ago

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Always In My Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Alyssa Brooks)

A/N: On today’s episode of ‘I have no idea wtf I’m doing’, we have something that I cooked up because I had terrible WiFi and no other app but Google docs would open up.

Trope: Fluff, but a tiny bit of angst?

Rating: General

Word Count: 2.3K

Warning(s): Mentions of character death

Summary: Their son has a very important question to ask.

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The delicious aroma of chicken and rice wafted through the Brooks-Ramsey household. The couple worked side by side in the kitchen as they had all those years ago, the only difference being that it was now a dinner for five and not just two.

Allison Dolores Brooks-Ramsey came into their lives nine years ago, and while it was earlier than they would have wanted, they didn’t regret a second of their lives ever since they first heard her voice.

The twins on the other hand, were planned, but nothing had prepared them for the chaos that Nathan and Natalie would bring. A new broken object every week, a dozen fights for the TV every day, and yet were nothing short of tiny tornadoes when they joined forces.

It couldn’t be more perfect.

“What time did Jackie and Emilia say that they would bring the girls back?”

“6:30, I think.”

“Ah. So we have time till 7:00.” They shared a knowing smile. Two aunts taking their nine and six year old nieces to the mall meant a complete raid of the toy store, and a new guitar.

“You need to stop letting everyone spoil the girls just because you have a soft spot for them, Ethan. Ally’s grown old enough to understand that she has her daddy wrapped around her finger, and we don’t need Nat coming to that realisation as well.”

“I don’t- I can’t believe you would accuse me of not loving all my children equally!”, he exclaimed in mock offense.

“Mhmm. So why did I have to come up with an explanation to tell Nathan why his dad wasn’t on board with ordering dessert when he asked for it, but relented once his sisters kept bugging him for another five minutes?”

He opened his mouth in protest, but decided against saying anything for his own good. “Well what can I say? They’ve inherited their mother’s persuasiveness. And I can’t really say no to you, can I?”

Alyssa’s lips curved upwards at that. The playful look in her husband’s eyes caused her to finally break into a grin. “At least you’re self-aware.” Stuffing the rice into the bird she added, “But I can’t exactly tell our son that his dad is too in-love with his mom that he sees her in his daughters and hence can’t say no to them. He’d gag in disgust.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, resting his head in the crook of her neck. “That he would. Alright I’ll try a little harder to resist their charms. Wouldn’t want my only son to end up hating me.” He said it without a hint of worry over it becoming true someday. Over the years, he’d learned to put aside his fears of not being a good father, and with the help of some therapy, and Alyssa’s unwavering love and support, he’d locked up his insecurities in a box and let it sink to the bottom of the ocean.

They took the stuffed chicken and put it in the oven, washed their hands and plopped down on the couch for some rare downtime.

“Crap.”

“Everything okay?”

“Fred’s mom got called in, so she’s dropping Nate off on her way to work.”

Ethan sighed. “There goes the hour I planned to spend with my wife, who I barely get to spend enough time with these days.”

“I swear, you were never this busy when you were chief. I have no idea why my workload’s ten times bigger.”

“I do.” Ethan smiled with pride. “One usually does have a lot of work when they’re at the front lines of the battle for making free healthcare accessible for every single person in the country. My brilliant wife, though she could choose to leave most of the work to her very competent team, opts to take it all upon herself. So that’s probably the cause behind all the extra workload she complains about.”

She smirked and perched herself onto his lap. “Well your very brilliant wife also knows that you called my team very competent just to avoid hurting my feelings, and that you and I both know that they’ll be running around like headless chickens without me taking care of things.”

“I know, love. But you can still make them do a little more instead of working yourself to the bone while still making sure that you have at least one meal with the kids every day.”

She sighed. “Yeah, to make sure that they don’t forget what I look like.” She leaned in closer. “Besides, are we really going to spend our last few minutes of peace talking about work?”

Just as she uttered the words, the door burst open, and Nathan kicked off his shoes and jumped onto the couch as Alyssa slid down from Ethan’s lap. She shot him a look that very clearly meant What did I just say?

Ethan gave her an apologetic look and ruffled his son’s hair. “Hey buddy. How was your day at Fred’s? I know you wanted to spend more time with him.”

“I did, and we were just about to open his new LEGO set when Mrs. Watson told us that she had to run up to her office for some emergency meeting.”, he pouted. “But it was a nice day. We watched Thor: Ragnarok and Luca, and we would’ve watched another movie if his dad didn’t tell us that two movies were enough for a day.”

Alyssa shot him a mildly stern look. “Well he was right. You’re too young to have movie marathons just yet. Two are more than enough, unless you want to have a headache.”

“But mom, I’m not too young! I’m a big boy! I can swing along the monkey bars at the park faster than Natalie, and soon I’ll swing across buildings just like Spider-Man!”

“Well Spider-Man got bitten by a yucky spider before he swung across buildings. Do you want to be bitten by a gross and poisonous spider?”

“Mommy, not all spiders are gross and poisonous. Dad told me that when I was four and got scared of them at the zoo.”

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to her husband to convince her kids that insects were anything short of creepy and disgusting. In reality, they were, but as someone who ran a mile away at the sight of a butterfly, she wasn’t going to accept that.

“That’s right, Nate. Some of them are certainly very poisonous and dangerous, but that doesn’t mean that you should be scared of them. If you maintain your distance and admire them from afar, there should be no problem at all.”, he said with a pointed look at Alyssa, who just huffed in annoyance.

Nathan giggled, his brown eyes lighting up with amusement. He loved watching his parents playfully bicker. It was way better than seeing them- ugh, kiss.

“We were pretending to be superheroes and Fred used his full name for his pretend name cause it sounded cool, and it is. Fredrick Anthony Watson sounds like something from that show you and mom watch with the guys in the stuffy suits.”

“When did you see us watching the show with the guys in the stuffy suits?”, asked Ethan with a slight hint of concern. Whatever he and Alyssa watched on their free nights was definitely not kid-friendly.

“I don’t remember. Maybe a few months ago.”

Their year old puppy, Ivy, woke up from her nap and bounced into the living room to jump onto her favourite person. Nathan squealed with joy as the fluffy hair of the dog tickled his nose.

Ethan and Alyssa smiled at each other. Getting another dog after Jenner was a decision that took a lot of convincing, but their kids were responsible enough and it was impossible to say no after two years of constant pestering.

“Fred told me that he was named after his great-grandfather William, and that he was this really cool guy who saved a bunch of guys from getting mugged in a dark, dark alley.” He turned to look at his parents as Ivy snuggled into his lap. “Who was I named after mom?”

The question caught her off guard, and she glanced at Ethan for backup.

When they knew that they were having a boy, they immediately knew what to name him. They hadn't, however, anticipated Nathan Daniel Brooks-Ramsey to ask such a question this soon.

Seeing his wife at a loss for words, Ethan spoke up. “C’mere Nate.” He pulled him closer and pressed a kiss atop his head. “We once had a friend named Daniel. He worked at the hospital as a nurse, and he was close to your mom and Aunt Sienna when they were interns.”

Having found her voice, Alyssa joined in. “He was an amazing friend. He was the only nurse in the hospital who helped me out when things got messy, and cheered up Aunt Sienna when no one else could. He’d join us for picnics and movie nights, and you could always count on him if you needed something at the hospital.” She took a deep breath, and Ethan nodded. “Things were going well, but then in my second year, something really bad happened.”

“Oh no.”

“There was this bad guy, who wanted his revenge on another bad guy, and he was ready to risk his own life, and the lives of everyone around him to do so.”

“That’s horrible! Who would want to do something like that?”

Ethan smiled wistfully. “A lot of people in this world actually do. You’re a good person, so you know that it’s wrong. But some people aren’t, and they don’t care about other people getting hurt because of their actions. That night at the hospital, Danny tried to tell the bad guy that it was wrong, and to think things through. But he didn’t listen, and did something that hurt both himself, Danny, Uncle Raf, another friend of ours, and your mom.”

His little eyebrows creased with worry, Nathan asked, “What happened then?”

“He… he died. Along with our other friend, Bobby. Do you remember what we once told you about an autopsy?” Nathan nodded his head. “Well Danny asked for his body to be autopsied, and thanks to him, we were able to find out what was wrong with mom and Uncle Raf.”

He fell silent for a moment, remembering the horrors of the day, and how eternally grateful he was to Danny for being the reason he didn’t lose everything. He couldn’t imagine a life without the love of his life and his children, and he wouldn’t have either if not for the sacrifices that were made.

He looked up at Alyssa, and she squeezed his hand in support. “We’ll tell you more when you’re older, but to make it short, you’re named after a hero too. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have you, your sisters, or mom here with me.”

Nathan wriggled out of his dad’s arms, and set Ivy down so he could hug his mom as tightly as he could.

“Well… if you can hear me Mr. Daniel, I just wanna thank you. Thanks for saving my mom. I love her so much and I’m so thankful that I got to meet her because of what you did. I wish I could’ve met you, you sound like a really cool person, and I’m sure you were. So yeah, thanks. A lot.”

Alyssa’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears, and she held her son as she expressed her silent thanks along with Ethan.

What they had was precious.

Fifteen years had passed since they first met, and yet each day they fell in love a little more like they did when they held hands for the first time in the dim light of the NICU watching over little Ethan, or when she finally got to see the real him the first time she visited his place; the first time in years he let someone know a little of the worries residing deep in his heart.

With all the odds against them, it was a miracle that they survived, even more so that they managed to raise three perfect children who had more love to share than they could ever comprehend.

And they’d never forget all the reasons that made it possible for them to survive.

Ding!

The timer on the oven went off, and they got to their feet to get the chicken.

“Was he a good cook dad?”

“I… don’t really know, Nate. Your mom knew him better than I did.”

“Well there was this one time where he helped Aunt Sienna bake an amazing cake, so I guess he knew his way around the kitchen.”, Alyssa recollected fondly. It was for Jackie’s birthday, one of the few nights where the competition was completely forgotten about.

Nathan’s face melted into a glowing smile. “I love cake. So I guess I really would’ve loved him.”

She mirrored his radiant expression. “You definitely would’ve.”

“Why don’t you go play with Ivy while mom and I get the food ready? You can help us with the dessert later.”

“We’re having dessert?!”

Ethan grinned at his son’s excitement. “You bet we are.”

“Yay!” They watched as Nathan ran off to go play fetch with Ivy in their enormous backyard.

Ethan pulled Alyssa in for a sweet, lingering kiss as soon as he was out of sight.

“You’ve been wanting to do that for a while now hmm?”

“Something like that.”, he murmured as they broke apart.

She could see the ever-increasing strands of silver in his brown hair, and the faint wrinkles along the sides of his forehead, but his clear blue eyes were just as loving and devoted as she remembered from over a decade ago.

“We have a pretty good life, don’t we?”

Ethan kissed her again. “No, we have the perfect life.”

——————————

A/N 2: Aaaand I’m going MIA again. Honestly though, to everyone who’s read so far, thank you so much for sticking around. Means the world💙

P.S: I finally chose Chyler Leigh as my face claim!

Taglist: @whimsicallywayward15 @aleynareads @starrystarrytrouble @dxnicaramsey @decadentwinnerjudgedream @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey @rookiefromedenbrook @eramsey28 @the-pale-goddess @ohchoices @wellhelloramsey @mvalentine @swiftlydarcy @utterlyinevitable @akshara16 @sushiharrington @drethanramslay @lion-ess24 @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @drariellevalentine @perriewinklenerdie @blossomanarchy @stateofgracious @takemyopenheart @open-heart-ramseyyy @maurine07 @udishaman @queencarb @ethanramseylover @rookiemarsswiftie @aworldoffandoms @lsvdw-blog @n03lia @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfan @jamespotterthefirst @senseofduties

Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist!

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey fanfiction

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billiebeanhoward · 3 years ago

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Silence - Multi Character

A/N: hello this has been an enormous project for me to do. Thanks for @stayevildarling for the prompt and for the help with this. Apologies, it's a long one. Tenses are a bit fucked but just go with it.

Prompt: Each character receives a mysterious invitation to visit a Hotel Cortez in LA to prove they're not alone in their struggles

TW: alcohol, mention of murder / death, cigarettes, swearing, mention of character death, hints at suicidal ideation,

Word Count: 4480

Tag list: @stayevildarling @okpaulson @mrsdeanhoward

Working at Kineros Robotics for the vast majority of her life, nothing really fazed Wilhemina anymore. Especially with the bullshit her bosses come up with daily, but when the redhead finds a strange invitation on her desk that morning, she never thought her life could get any stranger. The invitation that was written, well, typed, on very fancy looking stationary, held coordinates to a Hotel she never wanted to visit in her existence, but when she sees there is a list of nine other women's names, she assumes they're women, anyway; It piques her curiosity regardless and later that evening takes the rest of the weekend off work so she can drive the few hours to the Hotel.

Never been one for tardiness, the redhead arrives a mere twenty minutes early, the receptionist with ridiculous glasses asking her if she had booked a room to which she banged her cane and left towards the bar without a word. Conversation, socialising has never really been her strong suit, you can really blame her mother for that. She had been isolated from the outside world for most of her life growing up. Thinking back, she's glad for it. People are despicable. The bar isn't too shabby, not that she could complain, dark, quiet, she quite enjoys the ambience. Her cane clanks, hitting off the floor as she makes her way over to the bartender.

"And what can I get you, this fine evening?" she, she assumes, smiles politely. Nice enough.

"Anything purple?" her nose scrunched at the ridiculous request that leaves her mouth and she scolds herself silently moments before the bartender points a finger at her.

"You know what? I have just the thing," she turns around to pour the drinks, Wilhemina watching her every move, "So what brings you here?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"Oh, no, not at all." she shakes her head, "Enjoy your drink," Wilhemina eyes the mysterious neon concoction in front of her momentarily, before spotting a straw holder in the corner of her eyes and she reaches out to grab one when a hand grazes over her own.

"Oh, sorry," a British woman with a blonde pixie cut says quickly, pulling her hand away. "You look familiar, do I know you from anywhere?"

"No, I assure you, you don't."

The blonde put the green straw into her whiskey? before sipping it, "My name's Audrey, Audrey Tindall. I know what you're thinking..." Does this woman ever shut up? "I'm not related to the royal Tindalls, no."

"Did I ask?" Wilhemina cocks her head a little towards her and she quickly shies away, "Get out of my sight," The blonde scurries off to the other end of the bar while Wilhemina tries to enjoy her drink.

"Mom, what's this?" Ally looks over her shoulder, her arms elbow-deep in her sink as she washes up the dishes from dinner.

"Not sure, Ozzy. Can you read it for me, Sweetheart?"

"To whom it may concern, You are not alone.

34.0443° N, 118.2508° W

Ally, Audrey, Bette, Billie, Cordelia, Dot, Karen, Lana, Sally, Wilhemina. What does it mean, Mom?"

Ally empties the sink and clears away the dishes before wiping her hands on a towel, "I really don't know, does it say anything else? Give it here," she holds her hand out and he passes it to her as she studies it curiously.

"Karen!" The woman turns her head towards the door at her friend with a little smile on her face, "Guess who has mail?"

Her eyes widen in anticipation, "No, you're joking! Me?"

"Of course you! Open it." Mickey smiles as he passes it to her. She excitedly rips open the envelope, careful enough not to destroy the contents and unfolds the paper curiously. "Well, What does it say?"

"A bunch of numbers and names, Mick I think this is just junk,"

"No, Karen, the first mail you get in years, it can't be junk. Let me see," she passes it to him and in the dimness of the room, he looks at the letter. "They seem to be coordinates for somewhere,"

"Like for treasure?"

"Exactly, well, you never know, but could be someone who wants to murder you for all we know. But look, it says You are not alone."

"Course I'm not alone, fuck face, I have you."

Cordelia sets aside her paperwork for the evening, cradling a cup of hot coffee in her hands, she sighs as she takes a look at the monstrous pile of work ahead. She nudges her glasses further up her nose as the door of her office swung open. "Madison, how many times have I told you to knock?"

The younger blonde rolled her eyes as her arms crossed against her chest, "And why would I do that?"

"I could have been doing... something." the Supreme says before taking a sip from her coffee.

"When exactly was the last time you got laid, Cordy?"

This time the Supreme rolls her eyes before glaring at the younger witch, "And when was the last time you got laid, Maddy?" she snaps back, Madison slumps her shoulders, the smirk that graced her lips disappearing quickly, "What do you want?"

"I forgot to give you this when the mail came this morning," she absentmindedly threw a letter down on the desk before storming out.

Cordelia once again rolled her eyes at the girl, eyeing the mysterious envelope before picking it up.

Wilhemina looks down at the watch on her wrist whilst trying to figure out who exactly she's supposed to be meeting. The bar is seemingly quiet, and she stays seated at the stools near the bartender, Liz, who had told her her name, although she definitely didn't ask. Liz is a talker and a very annoying one at that, although Wilhemina is quite enjoying her company right now, or rather lack of as she attends to other women at the bar. A thought enters her mind at that moment, the name Audrey did ring bells, although not any ridiculous royal ones. She pulls the letter out of her blazer pocket and adjusts the glasses on her nose. There. The second name. Audrey. Was that her? Great. Now she does have to actually go off and talk to the chatterbox. She rolls her eyes before sighing, picking up her cane as she makes her way over to where Audrey is sitting, she seems to be sitting next to a brunette who did look quite familiar.

"Oh, hey!" Audrey greets, getting up from her place at the booth seemingly for Wilhemina to seat next to her. Wilhemina quickly turns around grabbing a chair from behind her and drags it to towards the table closer to the brunette instead, "Oh," the blonde says before pulling out a packet of cigarettes from her purse. "Do you mind?"

"I do actually, yes," Wilhemina says and the brunette turns to her.

"Are you here because of the letter as well?" Wilhemina nods and the other woman brings out her hand towards her for her to shake it, "I'm Ally, Ally Mayfair-Richards?"

"You're the one that was in that cult weren't you?" Wilhemina says. This has got to be the most interesting thing that has happened all night.

"Oh." Ally pulls her hand away looking around slightly awkwardly, "So you don't know me from my senator work? How did you know about the -"

"I saw it on this silly show I watched on the True crime channel."

"Right. So must know a lot about me then," she sips from her wine and Audrey annoyingly, despite Wilheminas dismissal, lights up a cigarette. "What's your name."

"Wilhemina Venable."

"Oh your name is Wilhemina, it's such a -"

"I'd prefer to be referred to only as Ms. Venable." Fine. Wilhemina has now made this awkward, thanks mouth. Change the subject. "Seven more women to find," she states, looking at the two, her hand gripped tightly around her cane. "Is this some sort of gangb-" Nope. "Right, I'm going to get another drink, excuse me."

"Sally that girl, what can I get you?" Liz asks a blonde that is definitely stuck in the '90s. Her hair is fully crimped, her outfit choice, however, is far more ridiculous, fishnet tights, a very short skirt, revealing shirt. Stop staring.

"The usual," she mumbles before diverting her attention back to the woman beside her. "So, are you from Tennessee? You're the only ten I see," Wilhemina almost spits her drink out as she hears the conversation between the two.

"No actually, I'm from Massachusetts." the brunette says, nodding slightly, clearly slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's pretty close though, right."

"No you blonde idiot, it's a 17-hour drive," Wilhemina says and the blonde turns to look at her and this time she looks at her face.

"Did I ask you?"

"No, course not. I just like correcting idiots,"

"Well, I'm sorry we all couldn't afford to go to private schools," the blonde then storms off somewhere else, Wilhemina genuinely doesn't care. The brunette, however, slides closer over to Wilhemina.

"Thank you," she smiles.

Wilhemina's face turned to one of a fish, "What for?" The other woman continued sipping from her drink before leaning a little too close for comfort to Wilhemina before taking a deep breath.

"Is this.." she pauses, Wilhemina only furrows her brows at her, "Is this a 'girl' bar?" she asks curiously, "I'm only asking because..."

"Good question," the redhead smiles as she looks around the room, only women are seated, mainly bundled together with Ally and Audrey," Maybe this woman is one of the names on the list too. "Surely hope not," she mumbles. She doesn't want to make conversation but it seems she needs to. "What brings you here?" she continues to drink the nuclear waste that Liz calls a drink and looks at the brunette. She seems familiar too.

"I... This is going to sound really weird."

"Not as weird as that, I assure you," she points behind her and the brunette turns around to see a woman with two heads walk through the door with the frizzy blonde talking to them.

"Probably just as... How is that possible? That's fascinating." The brunette brings up her purse and pulls out a notepad."I'm a writer, you may have read my book. It's quite popular among women." She speaks but Wilhemina isn't listening. Distracted by the definition of fucking weird that just entered the room.

"You girls here for the "meeting"?" the frizzy blonde asks them and the head on the left nods. Creepy.

"Nice," she grabs a cigarette, it hanging from her mouth lazily as she spoke. Ok, so far there are Audrey, Ally, writer girl, the one Liz called Sally, the two-headed beast... Wilhemina looks around and spots another blonde speaking to Audrey and Ally. So extra blonde. And a homeless woman sitting at the back end of the bar.

"If you're here for the meeting, come over here!" extra blonde calls out over to her table and Wilhemina rolls her eyes, her cane clanking loudly as she walks over to the table. "I'm Cordelia Goode. Supreme of my coven in New Orleans."

"Ally Mayfair-Richards, I came here from Maine. Had to find a babysitter before I drove all the way here,"

"Audrey Tindall. Had to get a flight back from England."

"Lana, Lana Winters." the writer girl added.

"Wait.." three heads turn to her. "How is that possible?" Ally spoke.

Lana shrugged, an uncomfortable smile gracing her lips, "What do you mean?"

"You're... young?"

"Oh, wow, am I that old?"

"I- no of course not."

"What's that?" Wilhemina turns her head towards the left of the beast as she stares down at Sally's cellphone.

"Oh, come on I've been stuck here since the nineties and even I know what it is." she rolls her eyes.

The right one furrowed her brows. "90s?"

The two of them stared into space for a moment, their expressions changing every so often as if they're in a conversation and Wilhemina shakes her head and diverts her attention to the homeless one toddling over to the rest of the group. She looks paranoid, looking over her shoulders as if someone is following her.

"The rest of the introductions?" Audrey says, bringing the letter out and Lana handing her a pen from her purse before she ticks off the names of people here. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asks the homeless one but she doesn't answer, peeking into the massive tote bag on her shoulder before Wilhemina hits her ankle with her cane to gain her attention.

"I'm not telling you my name. I don't even know who you are," she states

"Why are you sitting with us then?" the right one says before the homeless one gives them a look.

"I know people like you, fuck faces, huge assholes," she mutters

"I'm Dot, this is Bette, "Right one says almost headbutting the other

"I can introduce myself, Dot,"

Dot turns her head to look at her, "Well you were taking your sweet time,"

"Okay, we're only missing Billie and Karen."

Sally chuckles, her cigarette still hanging from her mouth, "That's definitely Karen," she points over to a blonde with wavy hair, pink blouse, pearl necklace and a pencil skirt and fake nails. "I actually thought you were Karen until you said your name is Audrey," she looks to Audrey and Wilhemina purses her lips trying to stifle her laugh.

Audrey looked offended as if someone ran over her mothers already dead body. Her nostrils flaring as she leans over the table towards Sally, "And what do you mean by that?"

Before anything happens and all hell breaks loose in the Hellmouth they already were in, the homeless one squeaks up. "I'm Karen."

That's it. Wilhemina laughed. "What's so funny?" Cordelia asks the redhead who continued chuckling as she tried to drink her acid.

"Nothing, continue."

Lana finally pieces the puzzle together, "That's Billie."

"Congratulations, would you like a gold star. I'm sure Mommy senator here has plenty for you." Wilhemina chuckled at her own joke because it was funny. The other women did laugh too. Billie made her way over somewhat gracefully, her hands flaring as if she's trying to pick up a watermelon. Karen probably has one hidden in that Mary Poppins bag of hers.

"Good evening, girls. I'm Billie Dean Howard, Medium to the stars." she flutters her fingers around like one of those stupid ASMR videos that Wilhemina has not ever watched before and took a seat beside Bette and Dot.

"Were you the one who sent the letters?" Bette asked, her fingers fiddling with the hem of the dress she shared? with Dot before Dot slapped her fingers away.

"No, I assume you're all here for the same thing. As am I. Unfortunately, it had to be here though,"

Cordelia sighs, shifting uncomfortably in her seat seeming to know what the hell Billie was actually talking about. "I know, it's like they're screaming in the walls."

Liz comes over handing Billie her drink while giving a pointed look towards Sally, "What? I didn't kill everyone here, y'know."

"Your reputation says otherwise." she turns to the rest of the group, "Enjoy your stay,"

"Does anyone actually know what this is about... Wait I know you, I've seen your face on the side of a bus," Audrey says excitedly

"And I know you, Ms Audrey Tindall. Making a big name for yourself I see after My Roanoke Nightmare." Billie smiles at her and Wilhemina gives a look of impressive to the two blondes.

"Oh god don't. My shrink is still drilling it into my head that it wasn't real."

"What wasn't?" Lana asks curiously, her notepad in hand as she continued to write notes.

"You haven't seen the show?"

"What show?"

Wilhemina diverts her attention towards Ally's and Cordelia's conversation although it seemed to be about cheating exs so then she focuses on what Dot, Bette and Sally were saying.

"It's 1952 where you're from?" Okay, now that is interesting. "How did you get here?" Sally points her phone in their faces.

"Can you please get that thing out of our faces! It's scary," Bette says,

"We killed our mother and you're saying that's scary." Fine. She stood up and made her way to Karen.

"Don't want to talk to you." she mumbled, seemingly comfortable slightly curled up in the seat.

"I don't want to talk to you either." Hmm, maybe the homeless one isn't too bad after all.

After a few extra drinks, everyone seems to be in a better mood, laughing, joking, much to Wilhemina's dismay, and even still trying to make conversation with her. Which she has done. Gotten to reluctantly know more about those with who she was almost forcefully made to be made acquaintances. Sally stood up on the chair, wobbling slightly as she tries to regain her balance. "Ladies, Unfortunately, Liz is closing up for the night." most women whined but Wilhemina was genuinely happy she finally got to go home. Was this it? What exactly was this about? "But... We can take this party up to my room,"

Wilhemina almost growled to herself, the thought of being at home a lot more comfortable than being in a hotel room with nine other women. All women stood up and followed Sally to the elevators. Billie and Cordelia following behind as they chatted.

Wilhemina slowed her pace a little mainly because she felt like her back couldn't handle it but also because she wants to know what the two blondes are talking about. "If the letters weren't really from you, then who was it?" Cordelia asks

"I genuinely thought it was you, dear. Seems like a 'you' thing to be bringing in people of all backgrounds, especially lonely ones at that,"

"I'm not lonely. You don't even know me." Karen pipes up defensively, still holding her bag close.

"No, not at all." Billie shakes her head, "But I do know when one is feeling lost and doesn't know how to get back up," she says before rushing off to get to the others.

Wilhemina's steps slowed as she enters the elevator, not one for taking the stairs. She opens her mouth but Cordelia is quick to speak, "I like your hair," the redhead raises an eyebrow at the blonde, a hint of a blush rising on her cheeks.

"You're drunk, Ms. Goode,"

"Oh, please. Call me Cordelia. I'm nothing like my mother." she says before her expression turns somewhat sorrowful. Her mouth opened, slightly agape seeming as she wants to speak but she doesn't. So Wilhemina decides it's humane of her to change the subject.

"You know Ms. Howard?" she looks down at the floor, the elevator dinging indicating their arrival on the floor where Sally's room is located.

"Oh yes, she's not a witch though," the blonde slightly stumbles out, almost tripping on her heels when Wilhemina rolls her eyes reaching her arm out to catch her.

"I didn't ask," she states, although she is due for another awful round of dosed up fuckery that is her medication she fights through it, tries to anyway. Liz's miracle drinks seem to be working fine as an atomic type of painkiller. She allows Cordelia to loop her arm around her shoulder, hers around the blonde's waist as they walk down the hallway towards the room Karen just strangely snuck into as if she's there on a heist.

"You know of my story then?" Lana asks seemingly gobsmacked towards the other women, "And not from my book, from my talk show? One I don't even have yet?"

"How exactly did you get here?" Audrey asks curiously as she sits down on the bed, crossed legged like an elementary school child.

"I received the letter, like the rest of you. I took the train. Fell asleep, woke up at the station and everything was different but I couldn't really explain it. Then I asked around about the coordinates and someone guided me to this hotel."

"The same thing happened to us," Bette smiled at her but Dot was quick to scold her

"Don't listen to my idiot of a sister, we've never been on a train in our lives. We woke up, found the note at the foot of our bed and started to get ready for our show."

"Show?" Billie asks before closing her eyes for a brief moment. "Does the name Eudora mean anything to you?"

"We work fo-" Bette starts

"No, absolutely not. Bette, we're leaving."

"But we've been having so much fun, Dot."

"No,"

"She says she forgives you."

Tears well up in both their eyes for a moment as they sit back down on the bed. Wilhemina slowly helps Cordelia sit down on the armchair beside them and awkwardly perches on the arm of said chair.

"She forgives you Bette for what you did but," she closes her eyes before facing Dot, "She doesn't forgive you for what you tried to do to your sister."

An awkward silence filled the room, only to be heard are the sniffles from the twins and the lighting up of cigarettes before Sally broke the silence, "You know, I would probably do anything to have a sister and you tried to kill her?" Dot looks away ashamedly.

Bette, sweet Bette, she seems so childlike, she just smiles, "I would do anything to make my Dot happy,"

"I would rather kill myself than let anyone treat me the way she treats you." Sally rolls her eyes "And I'm dead," she brings her hand to the side of her mouth as if she's revealing a huge secret.

"At least she's not alone," Ally says, sipping on more wine. "I'd do anything for my son, the way Bette clearly would for her sister."

"And let her kill herself?" Audrey remarks, "That's not love."

"Wouldn't you kill for love? Fight for others."

"I'd rather be a lover than a fighter, because all my life, I've been fighting." Lana says, "I've lost the love of my life and had been through so much I ca-" tears escape her eyes and Audrey curls up beside her, wrapping an arm around her frame.

Karen opened her mouth wanting to speak, most of them probably expecting her spewing profanities but instead, her face was calm, "I've never felt a feeling of comfort. All this time, I've been hiding. Where I'm from the stupid fuckfaces who live there..." There we go. "All they do is just think I'm some mad homeless woman -"

"Aren't you?" Wilhemina blurts out, a smirk gracing her lips and Karen glares at her.

"That's not the point, you fucking, purple, fucking, dragon bitch."

Wilhemina tilts her head, impressed with the insult. "Carry on."

"I don't want to anymore."

"I never had someone to call my own," Bette says, her usual smile now a frown as she fights back her own tears

"I'm so used to sharing." Dot mutters, looking down at her fingers. Billie reaches out to hold their hands to comfort them.

"Love only left me alone," Audrey says,

"I've found peace in the violence, can't tell me there's no point in trying," Sally says, cigarette hanging from her mouth as she speaks, mascara running down her face

Wilhemina thinks it's her turn to speak, Cordelia looking at her intently from the seat. "I'm in need of a saviour," it feels like she confessed her deepest darkest secrets. Words she would have never thought she would say out loud to anyone. She sees Billie lift her head as if to speak "But I'm not asking for favours," she says, Billie nods understandingly.

"My whole life, I've felt like a burden," Cordelia pipes up, her chin quivering as she spoke. "I think too much, and I hate it"

Ally pulls a small face, finishing her wine before she spoke, "I'm so used to being in the wrong. I'm tired of caring."

"Loving never gave me a home" Karen speaks again, probably feeling a lot more comfortable with the group now. Which is surprising as she acted as if they would kill her.

"I'll sit here in the silence," Billie says. She hadn't said anything. She gave a small smile before lighting up a cigarette. Wilhemina only groans, now her clothes probably stank worse than an ashtray at the amount the four women had smoked like a chimney. "I'm at one with myself. I've been quiet for so long."

There's silence for a few moments. Not uncomfortable at all, surprisingly. Although plenty of tears, small sobs escaping and a few hugs. This was needed. Everyone felt seen, even in the silence of the room. They felt heard. They all understood and could relate one way or another to each other and, maybe the letter was right. You are not alone.

But the one question is... who was the one who had sent it?

Maybe someone out there who cared enough for each woman individually and knew their struggles maybe even up to a personal extent. Maybe whoever sent it just wanted the women to know that they are loved and people do care.

Maybe it was you.

The night was slowly coming to an end, the women started to say their goodbyes when Lana had an idea, "Sally?"

Sally lifted her head from where it lay on Cordelia's shoulder as the two blondes were almost fast asleep. "Hmm?" Wilhemina stood, collecting her cane ready to leave but Cordelia's hand stopped her, grabbing onto the hem of her blazer.

"Give me your cell number, I have an idea." the brunette gave Sally the pen and paper and Sally wrote her number down, passing it back. "If I remember you'd hear from me again," then the brunette vanished. Magic tricks aside, most of the women were either too drunk or half-asleep to even react. Sally's phone began ringing loudly, Wilhemina picked it up, disgusting fluffy case in hand as Sally snatches it from her.

"Hello?"

"Sally? It's me, Lana. Put me on speaker." the familiar yet different voice said. The women looked, Wilhemina observing from the door until she noticed Bette and Dot aren't there either.

"Lana, it's you?" Audrey says, tears in her eyes, "God I've missed you." It's been less than two minutes you dramatic blonde. Wilhemina rolls her eyes as Lana chuckles down the phone.

"I've missed you too, Audrey. It's been fifty-five years since I had last heard your voice."

Wilhemina, now confused, was ready to leave. She pried the sleepy blonde away and left. On the way back to her home, she magically bumped into Billie. "What do you want?" she almost snapped.

"We're wondering if you'd like to meet back up at the hotel again next week." the blonde smiles, of course, cigarette in hand. Wilhemina sighed, as much as she hates to admit it she really did enjoy the company in comparison to her lonely nights at home in the silence.

"Okay," she says, Billie, raising an eyebrow at her expectantly.

"Okay? That was easy,"

"Don't think it'll be any easier than this, Ms. Howard, I'm a busy woman."

"Hm, I'm sure."

"If Ms. Winters is.. a woman of age now, What happened to the Tattlers?" Wilhemina asks out of curiosity, Billie purses her lips as she thinks of an answer.

"They're gone. They're at one with the silence."

"Good night, Ms. Howard." Wilhemina opens the door to her car.

"Good night, Ms. Venable," Billie says but Wilhemina can literally hear the smile that's on her lips as she says it. "Oh, Cordelia wants me to give you her cell," Billie hands the redhead her number through the crack of the window. "Then you don't have to be at one with the silence for so long. Neither of us do. We have each other now, just remember that. All thanks to Y/N."

#sarah paulson #ahs #wilhemina venable #cordelia goode #billie dean howard #cordelia foxx #tb karen #lana winters #audrey tindall #sally mckenna #bette and dot tattler

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eventiderookery · 3 years ago

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okay here's my very half assed rant because it's early, i'm tired and i don't want to go scouring through lore entries to find sources, but i'm an angry lesbian so here we go

firstly, when i read the mark of the great hunt lore piece my immediate thought was that the infamous line is because shaxx is reciting the entirety of the tempest, and if you've ever read anything aloud having a helmet on for that long is going to get gross and hot and probably difficult to breathe in after a while, but shaxx yells for hours on end in crucible so it's probably nothing to him and that's just a neat little facet of his character. i also think that last line was simply something the writers included because it's funny and maybe a little bit of an innuendo, but it wasn't meant to be memed to fucking hell and to the point it's influenced so many assholes interpretations of mara and, to an extent, shaxx.

okay i got sidetracked, but now for the little bit deeper reading into the whole exchange. in the recluse lore (because yes i actually went and looked) the first time shaxx meets sjur she shoots him full of arrows and he's so awestruck by her raw power and skill that he calls her "a tempest" and it's followed by her killing him and it being the start of a great friendship. so they're friends! shaxx and sjur were good friends! mara definitely knew this! so coming back around to the wish scene, shaxx knows that it isn't really a personal call (mara calls it collecting a favor from the reef wars) but it's grieving and remembering someone he respected and mara loved in a way without saying that's what they're doing. so to take his helmet off would be showing mara more trust (and maybe pity) than either of them would want. shaxx is a warlord, he knows mara isn't exactly an ally, but he was close with sjur and this is the least he could do to remember her and honor her.

now moving onto mara and what pisses me off the most. sjur is the only person that mara is said to have had romantic feelings for, they were together for a very long time. i don't want to step on anyone who reads mara as being bi, but personally to me, as a lesbian, mara comes off as a lesbian. but regardless of specifics mara is queer. she likes women. but more than that sjur seems to be the only person she really cared about aside from herself. she didn't care for her brother, she lead him around by the nose however it suited her. she doesn't particularly care for petra, who is doing her best to keep their people safe and mara just keeps hand waving and telling her it'll be alright (now this could be my incorrect interpretation of what's happening currently so take with a grain of salt). but sjur, mara cared for sjur and that's something incredibly important. before sjur dies she assured mara she would be back before lunch, which means that mara was worried! she cared enough to worry! now, would mara, who probably didn't have the time to grieve properly with all her plans, really take that first moment she had to process all those feelings, and use it to fuck shaxx? absolutely fucking not. mara's not a good person by any means, but sjur meant so much to her that she would want to spend a moment of time with someone else who knew her well, knew her as a friend. thus she wishes for shaxx and she can grieve silently as he recites the play of sjur's title-sake.

so i guess the tl:dr of this is it's not about them fucking, it's about grieving for sjur, you absolute fucking morons. also mara is queer and only ever cared for sjur which is so underappreciated as a part of her character

#stellae talks #mara sov #lord shaxx #sjur eido #destiny 2

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just-like-playing-tag · 3 years ago

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THANK YOU FOR BLESSING US WITH MORE APOLLO RAY AU!! aaaa please don't feel pressured to answer this, but how do you think that Ray's relationship with the lambda squad would differ from Norman's? i feel like Ray and Barbara would make an extremely dangerous combination!

OOH thank you so much for promoting this, I loved thinking about it. I think their interactions would be way more chill and informal than with Norman: since he is still the mind, Ray keeps being the boss, but to the Lambda group he feels a lot more like a chill boss rather than the whole intimidating "emperor" aura Norman had going on. Maybe exactly because Ray is a tiny step behind Norman in wits, he necessarily needs to rely on his squad more, which contributes to create a feeling of equality amongst them rather than the impression of interacting with a god. But even beyond that, it's just how Ray is personality-wise you know? He skips formalities and pleasantries, and is always found speaking bluntly. He doesn't care about formalities, and while Norman always puts on a nice face with both his allies and enemies (Gillian / Legravalima), Ray won't hesitate to tell you that he hates you (we could already see him disdaining pleasantries during his private interactions with Isabella). But that also means he'd probably be more chill and relaxed around the Lambda squad, because he simply doesn't feel like he has to put up with any kind of fake confident-and-invulnerable leader like Norman did. Just like in chapter 4 he disregarded sugarcoating the reality of the impossibility of the escape to Emma while Norman wasn't ready to tell her about that yet, Ray as Apollo won't fake confidence or superiority to reassure his comrades like Minerva Norman used to do. He won't try to soothe them in a false sense of safety by acting like he's unerring- that's just not how Ray is. Rather, I think he would act similarly to what he was used to at GF: make his comrades, hisfriends aware of the danger of the situation, maybe even of the impossibility of succeeding without sacrifices, all to make them the more conscious and determinated (reminder that just like Lambda didn't give Norman the chance to grow healthly and rather fomented his most ruthless tendencies in canon, the same happened to Ray in this AU, so he stayed a lot more similar to his old cynic GF self than the post-escape Ray we're used to). He's contrary to sugarcoating because from his point of view that's just creating another impediment that keeps them from being conscious of their position and objective of their chances. Ray is not as confident and arrogant as Norman is: he knows he can't make it on his own, so he's compelled to rely on others in order for his plan to succeed. Making them blind to the difficulty of the situation is not going to help, and that's why, at least when he's with his close collaborators, there'll be a lot less acting like he's invincible. And if initially the Lambda squad won't feel as reassured as they had been meeting Norman, I think on the long run it will be nice for them to believe that they can relly make it, they can create a new world by fighting together, and not because they have an unbeatable being on their side. Even if Ray is more direct and cynic than Norman, I still think he would manage to be enough reassuring and encouraging for the children he rescued. We know how, though never actively trying to become one, Ray showed to be ready and able to step in the role of leader when Emma needed his support. Though we could only catch a glimpse of his operate as a leader, I like to think that right here is how he would behave as one: straightforward and realistic, plainly and clearly exposing the reasoning behind his decisions; but also, somehow, being indirectly reassuring, in the way his people know what they're doing is the most rational way to act in order to guarantee their safety, finding comfort in the fact that their leader is always able to calculate what ensures the most chances of survival for them.

I digress, sorry about that //// Back to the main matter of how Ray would interact with Barbara and the others, I think we need to take into account that, differently from Norman, Ray probably shares their same hatred towards demons. I won't get into that thoroughly, but while I believe that Norman, though indeed hating the demons to an extent, didn't hate them as much as the others (he's repeatedly shown being upset by his lethal actions + honestly I just think Norman is a inherently good, emphatic dude don't @me), Ray definitely held the same resentment and loathing as the others did.

I can imagine, differently from what happened with Norman*, Ray hanging out with the group often, spending time in the forbidden demon room with them, joking and messing around. In the chapter 113 spread, I picture Ray not being somewhere else being dramatic, but instead walking alongside the others.

* (cfr. chapter 130: “It's been a while since I've been here” (Norman) / “I come here all the time” (Cislo) / “It's relaxing.” (Barbara). Norman doesn't sound like he enjoys spending time in the demon dungeon.)

#Again thanks for asking this AU is something that makes me really happy no matter what <3 #tpn #the promised neverland #tpn manga spoilers #Thank you so much Tumblr for deleting half my previous answer I hate you <3 #tpn analysis #Technically I had already written this and just had to copy and paste my answer.#Practically in the process of rereading it I ended up adding two times its initial length noncurant of the fact that it's long past 2 am :'#Whatever #tpn ray #apollo ray #You'd think this AU was made for Ray #Actually this AU was made so that Norman (my favorite character) could healthly grow surrounded by his family that loves him #without anything to trigger his psychotic tendencies and with no trauma ❤️#C'mon you can see I've made the AU it's perfectly shaped around my preferences it has #↳ Norman being in a healthy environment surrounded by people who love him where he can be happy ↳ More Ray screen time and importance #↳ More Don and Gilda importance (GP Don!!!!!) ↳ Emma staying the same because she's perfect lmao #River be like “you don't have to answer this” like they didn't know that talking about this makes me the happiest lmao #For real tho it's exactly 03:01 am right now so forgive me if some passages lack sense I'll reread this again tomorrow #If it wasn't 3 am I would have maybe edited some Ray to appear in the last image #either that or made a 5 y/o stickman of him in the middle ahah #people asks me stuff #THANKS FOR ASKING RIVER I luv you I hope you're having a nice day drink lots of water ❤️#Oh wait I found another note about this:#Barbara and Ray uh? First thing that came to my mind was Ray cooking Barbara demon meat-#which probably wouldn't happen but is still a wild concept lmao.

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

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Double Heart | Chapter Thirteen ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 3460

Warnings: TW -- Mentions of death and grief

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Thank you for all your comments!!! I worked all weekend and it was such a joy to come home and be able to read them and answer them <3

Thanks to my reasonable-ish bedtime, I rise with the sun. Turns out mornings in Imladris are quite nice — the household has a lively bustle to it. I get ready for the day and make it downstairs in time for breakfast. On my way through the hallway, I hear a chipper voice calling my name.

I turn around, seeing the long, dark, coils of Lavandil’s hair bouncing as she jogs to catch up with me.

“Look who’s awake early today,” she teases, falling into step beside me. “No more late nights?”

I roll my eyes. Evidently, Rumil has created for himself an ally. “You should’ve seen me on the road — I was up at dawn with the rest of them.”

She smiles cheekily, brushing a curl away from her face. “So it seems there is a common denominator in your motivation for sacrificing sleep.”

I gape, my shortcutting brain keeping me from formulating a satisfactory retort.

Lavandil just smirks, strutting along beside me. After a moment of silence, she hesitates, then shoves her arm in the crook of my elbow, linking our arms together. I blink at her in surprise. She grins, setting her shoulders. “I’ve visited human settlements before and I always saw the ladies walk like this. It seems rather silly — if one were to fall, wouldn’t the other go down with them? Especially with how clumsy humans can be—” A look of horror comes over her face and she halts, pulling me to a stop with her. “No, I didn’t mean to say that you—”

I chuckle, putting this elleth who is quickly becoming my friend out of her misery. “Don’t worry, I didn’t take it that way. And you’re not exactly wrong, either. I would definitely venture to say that elves are more coordinated than humans.” But this reminder of yet another difference between myself and my companions makes me sad, so I hurry to switch topics. “But you don’t have to walk like this if you don’t want to. I know elves prefer differently.”

Lavandil tilts her head to the side, a guilty smile stretching her lips. “Well, perhaps I am trying to butter you up. I have a favor to ask.”

I shake my head, laughing softly. “Yes?”

We stop outside of the dining hall archway and she turns to me, looking down on me with pleading eyes. “I own a shop in the market square — I sell the things I weave — and with all the travelers visiting Imladris, it is becoming difficult this season to make the goods and run the shop. My friend who usually works with me is in Eryn Galen this year, and while I’ve been managing—Orophin has been a great help—I know Haldir will be counting on him when it’s time to train the guards. So I was wondering, if you weren’t too busy…would you join me in the shop a couple days a week? I can teach you how to weave if you want, and I would pay you of course, and it’s really not too difficult, you just help customers choose their items and accept either money or an exchange and—”

I smile, elated that she would trust me enough to ask me to aid with her business. “Of course I’ll help! I’m so glad you asked.”

She beams and shoots into a rapid-fire account of everything I need to know about her shop. I try to keep up, but we enter the dining hall and the smell of breakfast hits my nose, so I very quickly get distracted.

Lavandil leads me towards the back of the dining hall. We see Baranor sitting at a table distractedly searching for the food on his plate with his nose buried in a book. Lavandil and I join him.

“Good morning,” I greet.

He hums, not looking up from his book. Lavandil and I exchange looks.

I grin at her, an idea taking form, and add food to my plate as I speak to Baranor. “Do you mean to be eating a worm? Is it an Elvish delicacy?”

He mumbles something incoherent, squinting in mild confusion. Then, his brow furrows and he shakes his head, throwing his fork down with a muffled yelp.

I can’t help it — I laugh loudly, turning heads in my direction. Lavandil joins, but hers are much more controlled. I try to quiet my giggles, but it’s difficult under Baranor’s stern gaze.

“That wasn’t funny.”

I shrug. “Sure it was.”

Lavandil nods emphatically. “What are you reading?”

Baranor begrudgingly closes his book. “A collection of research into the evolution of human healing capabilities. It’s an interesting read, if a bit rudimentary.”

I purse my lips, eyeing the book. “So humans and elves heal differently?”

He blinks, looking perplexed. “Of course.”

I take a bite of my scrambled eggs. Just another difference between us.

Movement at the front of the hall catches my eye and I smile, waving at Haldir and Rumil. The latter grins and returns the gesture, elbowing his brother’s ribs before striding in our direction. I pull my plate and glass closer to me to allow them room to sit at the small round table.

“Good morning, ladies, Baranor, how are you today,” Rumil questions cheerfully.

I quirk an eyebrow. “You’re not usually so chipper before breakfast.”

“Says the woman who slept until afternoon.”

“One time,” I quip.

Haldir takes a sip of his drink and smoothly changes the subject. “How were your lessons?”

From the corner of my eye, I see that Baranor has returned to his book. I chuckle. “Baranor was very patient. I do look forward to continuing, though.”

“Do you have lessons tonight?”

I shake my head, knowing Baranor will be occupied this afternoon and evening in the healing wards.

Haldir nods. “I will be out most of the day—I’m convening with a few of the generals here to get a better idea of their companies’ capabilities—but I could meet you after? To train?”

I smile, pleased that he still plans on helping me. “That would be great, thank you! Just come find me when you’re ready.”

He offers me a smile in response and returns to his breakfast.

Rumil scoffs but there is a twinkle in his eye that instantly makes me wary. “Tell me you do not plan on taking her to the training grounds so late at night? She won’t be able to see a thing.”

Haldir gives his brother a strange look. “Of course not.”

“Good.” Rumil sniffs. “But you cannot use our room. It is too small.”

I shrug, not quite understanding Rumil’s objections. “We can use mine — it’s got plenty of space.”

“That will work,” Haldir agrees.

Before I can think any more on it, Rumil catches my attention. “After breakfast, do you want to visit Roch in the stables? I’m sure he misses us both.”

I smile and agree, surprised to find that I also miss Horse the horse.

Breakfast hurries along and soon Rumil and I are the only ones left at the table, Haldir, Lavandil, and Baranor having hurried off to get to their duties. When we’ve finished our food, Rumil and I make for the stables which are not far from the main estate.

Rumil grins, brandishing an apple he lifted from the dining halls. “Do you want to give him this, or shall I?”

I bark out a laugh. “I’ll let you feed him the stolen apple.”

In answer, Rumil only throws the fruit high in the air, catching it with ease.

“Show off,” I mutter through a smile. After a few minutes of silence, I decide to ask the question that’s been bothering me since our arrival here. Rumil is the most easy-going of my new friends and I hope he’ll understand that I’m not trying to be rude or intrusive. I take a deep breath. “So, I had a question.”

He raises an eyebrow and in that moment looks so much like his oldest brother, it momentarily throws me off guard. “Yes,” he prompts when I don’t elaborate, and then he’s back to looking like himself.

“Orophin and Lavandil. Are they…a typical elven couple? I only ask because they’re the first elven couple I’ve met and I can only compare it to what I remember of human relationships. I’ve never seen them hug aside from the night we arrived, and never more affection than that. And they’ve been engaged for so long, do they plan on getting married?”

He chuckles and I sigh in relief. I haven’t upset him. “I forget how different humans are sometimes, of course it would seem strange to you. I assure you — they are quite normal. Humans are overly physically affectionate while elves tend to save that for romantic loves and close family members, and rarely in public. And remember, elves live forever—there’s no rush to get married in a certain amount of time. Besides, they are still young. I doubt either of them is ready to give up their home, their career, whether he moved to Imladris or she came to Lothlórien. For now, they are still enjoying their courtship.”

I nod, taking that information in.

“It usually takes a great amount of time for an elf to fall in love — or, at least, acknowledge that they’ve fallen in love. Some ellyn can take centuries to develop or recognize their feelings. I understand it can be quite disorienting.”

This gives me pause. Centuries? “That’s crazy. I mean—” I hurry to correct, aware of how judgmental I sound. “Not that elves are crazy, but your lifespan and all the time you can take. I can’t even wrap my head around it. Humans get what — eighty years?”

Rumil stops in his tracks. He turns to me, looking horrified. “Is that really it? Eighty years? Cosima, how old are you?”

I shrug, feeling self-conscious. “Twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three,” he gasps, bringing his fingers to his temples. He groans. “You are over a quarter through with your life.”

My breath stutters out. I haven’t thought of it that way. For all the differences between myself and my new friends, the biggest of them all somehow escaped my notice. Regardless of how long I reside in Arda, in what is a handful of years to these elves, I will be dead. And they will endure.

“It-it sounds kind of sad when you say it like that.” I look at the ground, unable to meet Rumil’s devastated eyes.

From my vantage point, I see him clench his hands into tight fists. When he speaks, his voice sounds thin, strained. “I understand now why elves often choose to distance themselves from human companionship. You have what is to you a long life ahead, and yet here I am, already grieving your loss.” He clears his throat, shifting his feet. “I do not know how Arwen bears it.”

I lift my gaze to his, not recognizing the name. “What do you mean?”

Rumil sighs, looking for the first time, quite old. Not in his face, never like that, but his eyes. It’s hard to believe that this ellon who sometimes seems younger than me has lived for two millennia.

“Arwen is Elrond’s daughter. She tends to keep to herself but is well-loved by her people. If you ask, Elrond will surely introduce you.” He pauses, seeming weighed down by his words. “She loves a human man.” I hear my sharp intake of breath and Rumil nods gravely. “His name is Aragorn and he is well known to the ellyn of Imladris. He is away for the time being — when whispers of evil reached this realm, he left to do his part. But Arwen…when Aragorn dies, so will she.”

I blink and am surprised to feel a wetness in my lashes. “But she’s an elf.”

Rumil slowly shakes his head. “Yes. When an elf gets married, when they bond their fæ with another’s, they are forever entwined. If one dies, the other must sail West or risk fading.”

Oh. Of course. Haldir mentioned this the other night — it didn’t occur to me before Rumil said the actual word, ‘fading’.

“I have only met one elf who lost their love. King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm. His wife died many centuries ago and yet every day, he grieves like it is the first. I do not know why he stays here, but I can see how much it costs him. I cannot imagine his pain. And Arwen walks into it willingly.” Rumil laughs without humor, shaking his head and looking to the ground. He purses his lips tightly. “No, it is likely she has no choice in the matter. You cannot help who you love. So Arwen will either fade over time or choose to die with Aragorn — she has already sworn never to sail. Arwen’s father is Peredhel — half elven, half human. All those in his line may choose: an elven life, or a mortal one. I believe Arwen has made her choice.”

I exhale shakily, the tears freely falling down my cheeks. “That sounds awful.”

Rumil nods in agreement, seeming to regard me with new eyes. I can’t blame him. To him, my friendship must promise nothing but grief.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe, not really sure what I’m apologizing for. His doomed friend? His sadness? My mortality?

He shakes his head, forcing a poor imitation of his earlier sunny smile. “Do not be sorry. Come, Roch is waiting.” He extends his hand towards the stables and, though I think we would both prefer to sit in our rooms and cry, I go with him.

{***}

When it is still early in the evening, there’s a knock on my door — Haldir ready for training. He greets me with a warm smile and news of his meetings.

“They went well,” he nods, accepting my offer of a glass of water. “The guard has wonderful structures in place and even better ellyn, so I am quite hopeful that new strategies will fortify an already strong group.” He lays his cloak over the back of the couch. “How were the stables with Rumil? Is Faervel in good condition?”

“Yes, he’s doing just fine. He’s got bigger stable than Roch, which of course Rumil took mild offense to.” I chuckle, thankful that I can remember it fondly even though the day was weighed down with sadness. “I had a nice time. Rumil is always fun to be with.”

Haldir nearly snorts, and the undignified noise coming from him makes me laugh. “Not at two in the morning with all that awful snoring, he’s not.” He crosses his arms, smiling nostalgically. “It’s like we’re children again, visiting our grandmother, crammed into one room. Orophin got so fed up with it once that he tossed Rumil outside.”

My eyes blow wide in disbelief, only feeling a little bad for laughing at Rumil’s misfortune. He probably deserved it. Hot pink flashes in front of my eyes and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the now-familiar smell of red wine and hairspray. Dark, curly hair pinned tightly against a head standing only five feet off the ground — Nonna!

I gasp, blinking rapidly as I try to take in all this new information at once. I feel cool fingers grip mine and then my body finds the plushness of the couch.

Snowy holidays spent by an opulently decorated tree, tight hugs after a bad day, drinking sweet wine and laughing like we haven’t a care in the world. Nonna. I miss her. My heart aches with that crushing feeling of not knowing the next time you’ll see someone. More than that — not knowing the next time you’ll see someone you love. I try to focus on her face — does she look like me? Her face comes into full view, and I admonish myself. Of course she does, silly. Rather—you look like her. A sharp stab of pain pierces my skull and my breath catches halfway between a gasp and a scream.

Strong hands on my shoulders. Warmth against my arm. And pain racing through my head, behind my eyes, below my ears. As the pain gets stronger, the images of my grandmother flicker. I attempt to focus, to keep the memories solid and present, but lose the battle when a wave of nausea hits me. I clamp a hand over my mouth, desperately not wanting to vomit and so badly wanting this pain to stop.

“Cosima,” a frantic voice whispers. I feel fingers brush over my cheek.

I groan, the nausea and pain finally beginning to ebb away. The evening light suddenly seems much too harsh and I half-collapse forward, pressing my face into fabric that smells like trees to shut out the light.

“What’s wrong?”

Hands ghost over my spine, holding me against what I now recognize to be Haldir’s chest.

“Give me a minute,” I mumble, taking deep breaths as the pain and sickness fade. Haldir doesn’t move, his arms locked stiffly around me. Once I feel like I’ve regained control, I straighten slowly. Though no longer in the awful pain, my body feels heavy, weak, and practically aches with the desire for sleep. I look up at Haldir.

He watches me with what I can only describe as panic, though it takes me a moment to reach that conclusion, given the fact that I’ve never seen him look anything other than completely collected. With wide eyes, he stands, pulling my cloak off its hook. “I’m taking you to a healer.”

“No, Haldir, it’s just a—”

He throws the cloak to me, shrugging on his own with impressive speed. “You are human and humans sicken and die like that.”

I roll my eyes, though sober as I recall Rumil’s face when he became aware of my age. Whereas I know that this is just a headache, it must actually be upsetting for Haldir, an ellon who’s probably never seen someone with a headache in his life. I breathe deeply and, for the first time in our friendship, take on the role of the calm one. “It’s just a headache, maybe a migraine. Humans get them all the time. It usually happens when someone hasn’t had enough sleep or enough water — coincidentally, over the past few days I have been lacking in both.”

He pushes his water glass across the small table to me, still not looking entirely convinced. Thankfully though, the panic has begun to recede from his features. “Drink.”

I comply, knowing it will make us both feel better.

He watches me warily and with a small amount of accusation in his eyes before sitting down next to me once more. This time, he leaves a good amount of space between us though leans forward, hovering like he’s waiting to have to catch me again. I slump against the back of the couch but do my best to overall look very non-sick, not wanting to worry him. We sit in silence for a few moments while I sip on the water. I want to revisit the memory of my grandmother, but something tells me it will have to wait until I feel better. Focusing on memories is already difficult, and apparently, it’s nearly impossible in the face of a migraine.

Eventually, Haldir levels me with a stern look. Ah good, back to normal. “We will not carry on with training until you are well. I insist that you make proper sleep and hydration a priority.”

I smile at him, bringing a hand to my forehead in a mock-salute. “Yes, Marchwarden.”

He shakes his head weakly, but his smile at least touches his eyes. It’s nice. The light shifts as the sun sinks lower and he furrows his brow. “It’s still early — would you like dinner? I can have it sent to your room.”

I shake my head, the thought of food bringing back a wave of nausea. “No, thanks though. I think I’ll just lie down for the rest of the night, hopefully sleep it off.”

Haldir nods solemnly. “That might be best. Is—are you—is it safe for you to be alone? You will not pass out or suffer some unexpected side effect?”

“No,” I smile softly, touched by his concern. “I’m already feeling better, promise.”

He sucks in a breath, bobbing his head once more. “Good.” He stands, looking uncertain. “I will leave you to rest, then. May I visit you in the morning?”

I feel my smile widening. This is so sweet. “Of course.”

This seems to relax him a little, and he gathers his cloak. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

And, though I should immediately crawl in my bed and go to sleep, it takes me a while to push the smile from my face and quiet my racing mind.

A/n Thanks for reading! Let me know if you would like a tag :) Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day!

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff

#tw mentions of death and grief #haldir #rumil #orophin #haldir x ofc #haldir x oc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction

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swimfuel · 3 years ago

Note

Hey!! The X-men are literally my favorite thing and I was wondering if you could elaborate on how Scott is a knight of doom

YES OF COURSE!!!! i'll put it under a cut since i tend to ramble a bit & i'm pulling a bunch of explanations from people smarter than i am

the knight weaponizes their aspect; they have an inherent understanding of their aspect that allows them to exploit it completely. doom is the aspect of systems, restrictions/limitations, sacrifices, and endings.

one of scott's core themes is reclaiming his restrictions in order to serve others/the greater good! he takes the possible liability that are his faulty powers and shifts them to become an advantage, largely through the strength of his restraint and discipline. his role as a tactician and the way he sees sacrifices (more on that later) also mesh EXTREMELY well with the knight of doom.

i feel like the Wh*don run (specifically astonishing x-men #22-23) really highlights how scott can turn a situation on its head through exploiting his disadvantages to the point where they become tactically advantageous!! like, let's count the ways:

the ship the x-men stole from kruun is obviously bugged, so his team won't be able to communicate without being overheard. he realizes this, and uses that restriction (being overheard) as an advantage, by falsifying their course of action.

he has been left "without his powers"—he presents a restriction that lowers the guard of his adversary and grants him entry to their home base. he then subverts this by exploding the shit out of everything when an opportune moment arrives

HE LITERALLY EXPLOITS DEATH...... HE EXPLOITS HIS OWN DEATH...................FOR THE GREATER GOOD..........DUDE???? someone get this man an advil

some more thoughts, followed by some examples by people smarter than me:

he exhibits a similar pattern of idolization/realization with xavier irt karkat/HICand dave/bro.... not sure if this by itself is a knight-y thing but i think the consistent disillusionment with their role in defending their aspect is interesting (aka knight burnout, more on that later)

he is def willing to sacrifice shit for the greater good of mutantkind. the shit in question sometimes being his closest friends and allies. the examples that stick out to me are how he allowed beast to get tortured (utopia era) while executing his plan to solve All His Problems At Once & also when he sent x-force to the future to defend hope knowing it was going to be a one-way trip

that entire issue revolving around just how GOOD scott is at self-repression😭😭😭 i'm pretty sure it's post-schism utopia era i don't remember the exact issue WAIT NVM i'm pretty sure it's uncanny #518

seeing phoenix!scott as an inversion to (rogue of) life is also an interesting concept (unchecked growth!)

the amount of responsibility he feels he has to take on (partially due to his idolization cycle w xavier/xavier's dream) is also both knight-y and doom-y

and of course the instinct to protect the people around him --> being expanded into the whole of mutantkind (which, in turn, expands his sense of obligation)

everything leading up to revolutionary cyclops is also very interesting through this framework because its reminiscent of the knights & doom players in hs! the "taking on an insane burden" (phoenix force, whatever whammied mituna) -> the "resignation to the fate handed to him by his aspect" (his stint in prison, dead daves, sollux in general) -> the "refusal to accept that fate" (prison break, dave not wanting to use time travel, sollux fucking off into the dreambubbles, karkat coming to terms w his relationship w leadership) --> experiencing knight burnout at the end of revolutionary era going into death of x

im not sure exactly how to put it into words but everything about his childhood/teenhood... like being surrounded by forces seeking to control him and use him for their own ends..... idk

(from @/land-of-classpects-and-analysis, sections highlighted red are of particular interest)

HIS GIANT STINKING MARTYR COMPLEX.....DUDE😭😭

side note & ive mentioned this before but scottjean is an interesting parallel to davejade in a way i cant verbalize

Then there are the ones who may accept [the fact of inevitable human suffering], and so choose to live in high alert of any danger - any threats - as well as living in fear of what harm may befall them and/or their loved ones. It is this third and final group of people that so deeply marks that of the Knight of Doom.

Now, this might cause a few eyebrows to become quirked. After all, a Knight? Being fearful of something - nevertheless that thing being related to their Aspect? Knights do often present themselves as ruthless and fearless warriors, yes, but that is only because their Aspects and the world around them raised and called them to act as such.

... A key factor in the Knight’s life, specifically before their journey truly begins, is that they are already well equipped with their Aspect.

... The Knight of Doom is one where their Aspect being all around them is far more bittersweet than anything else.

... What is important to acknowledge is that the facade the Knight of Doom puts up is not only to hide the fear they have for their Aspect, but it is most definitely there to hide the grief and pain they have not yet completely finished going through. Whether it’s been weeks or years, the Knight of Doom is someone who would rather hide themself away from these feelings than find a way to truly mend and heal them ... they have built a false wall between them and their suffering strong and thick enough to partially block it from their memory.

... Knights are known to become extremely stubborn whenever people try to order them around and pressure them into doing something, and the Knight of Doom is no different - especially if they believe what they are doing is for the greater good.

(from @/dahniwitchoflight)

Dahni’s Explanantion: “Doom can be a negative force that rejects and harms, fostering a sense of hostility or sadness. But, it is also the idea that you can pull backwards and cautiously and wisely withdraw into your own self. It can be the idea of Control taken from the sharp Black and White Restrictions that everything in the world gets sorted into. It understands community necessity and need, responsibly pulling back and lowering you down into its lap to help wind yourself down. Doom then is an ultimate gentle Equalizer, instilling its players with an internal sense of Acceptance and eventually true Wisdom.”

Knight of Doom: One who Exploits with Doom or Exploits Doom

Knights hide a fear of a perceived fundamental failure with their Aspect behind a shield of confidence and obsessive effort. Their challenge is to learn to take it down a notch and to understand that they are skilled enough

A Knight is very skilled with using the rules and limitations of any game or session to their advantage. They skillfully fulfill any responsibility or obligation required of them with ease. They might use their natural caution and pessimism to make realistic choices and endeavors. They use and exploit any rule or limit that they can to their advantage. They might also be very good at exploiting any sacrifices made or any obligation or responsibility that they are held to. They might be very good at avoiding any unnecessary thing or person and are very good at recognizing when something is too futile to even bother with.

Likewise they might only focus on the necessary things in their game or session so they are likely to not do much unless it’s absolutely necessary. They would very likely be very meticulous with themselves about following the rules properly and constantly restrict themselves, maybe thinking they aren’t following the rules properly enough or not following the right ones. They might sacrifice anything they consider unnecessary about themselves or the way they live, sometimes even going too far with it, in order to be considered or thought of as less useless. They’re always trying harder and holding themselves to extreme self-imposed standards.

They would likely wait for the opportune moment to strike, though they are slow to move or act, they always will when something necessary needs to happen. Out of all the Doom players, a Knight of Doom seems like the one most likely to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. A Knight of Doom can also expertly use and exploit fire, bombs and explosions to their advantage, maybe they create flashy distractions during fights. They might even use decaying or dying things to their advantage.

(from @/communistvriska)

Role in the Session: Rather like the Prince of Doom, this role’s title kinda has “edgelord” written all over it, but that’s not a set-in-stone character trait. The first thing that comes to mind re: what the Knight Class and the Aspect of Doom have in common is a strong sense of obligation. The Knight of Doom is bound to take their duties and responsibilities Extremely Seriously, perhaps rather too seriously at first ... Knights also tend to be very protective of both their Aspect as a concept, and of themselves and those close to them; while the Knight of Doom isn’t likely to be outwardly aggressive, given Doom’s reserved, slow-burn tendencies, woe betide those who try to deceive or confound the Knight or their allies. One of Doom’s internal contradictions (which I find personally fascinating) is that the aspect is associated both with cynical resignation and with a profound albeit restrained sense of passion and persistence. Doom is what’s left after everything else gets burnt away.

The Knight of Doom will likely be a very skilled combatant, as the Knight is a class strongly associated with Strife / battle, and Doom is one of the more overtly destructive Aspects. I’d put them in the Top 5 Roles to use a cool flamin sword, at least. They’re not going to be eager to fight, per se, but they’re not going to have much trouble scaling the echeladder when it comes to that either. Internally, they’re likely to struggle with a perceived (but largely imagined) inability to fulfill their duties, and they could well stumble once or twice in their quest to be perceived as reliable and stoic, or as someone who their friends can lean on. They’re probably doing more than enough already, but if they’re not careful they might overexert themselves and take on too heavy a burden, and they’re liable to be crushed by their own expectation that they face their challenges alone. This is going to factor into their capital-Q Quest and the environment of their planet, and will be the biggest obstacle in their path to Ascension. A Knight’s duty is to protect their co-players, but their co-players also have to support them.

#mail #scott summers

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onechicagorpf · 5 years ago

Text

Two Can Play This Game

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med ED doctor)

Summary: Y/N and Jay have a very undefined relationship, which causes problems when Jay decides to meet with Ally, his ex, for drinks. Y/N’s not one to take things lightly, so when Jay dismisses her jealousy she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine...

Warnings: Loud yelling-at-each-other arguments, which can be triggering, so please watch out! Swearing + dubious medical content, as per usual lol

A/N: I just needed a break before I got started on Not A Stranger Part 4, so this happened! Enjoy! As per usual, please leave comments if you really liked it - they mean a lot!

The sun is bearing down on you hard, and you feel a trickle of sweat go down the back of your neck.

“Need a drink?” It’s Ethan, tossing a cool bottle of water at you. Grinning, you catch it and quickly begin to empty it into your mouth.

Ethan’s frowning, looking up into the sky. “Some days, I just don’t get Chicago. It’s either freezing because it’s the polar vortex, or it’s boiling hot because - well. Whatever. I hate this.” Crushing the plastic bottle, you toss it into a nearby trashcan. “We’ve cleared everyone?” You ask, gesturing to the relatively less frantic movement of firefighters, cops, and doctors on the road. Ethan nods.

A gas explosion had gone off in an apartment, and it was bad enough that CFD paged ED doctors to come down and treat some patients on the scene. Natalie, Connor, Lanik and the student doctors opted to stay behind and hold down the fort, so you were dispatched out with Will and Ethan. For the last hour and a half, you’d been busy running triage and treating whatever burns, smoke inhalations, and other trauma injuries came your way. Luckily, the fire had been contained to just one floor, so there were only a few really awful burns. But of course, this is Chicago so there’s only so much luck going around.

The building was an old one, and that coupled with several structural defects meant that the south face of the building had partially collapsed. So in essence, for every burn victim CFD pulled out, there were about three penetrating or blunt traumas from falling concrete.

“Yeah, but I’d rather treat trauma from a falling object than burns any day,” Ethan comments and you raise your eyebrows. “See, if you’d told me that at the start I would’ve just taken all the burn vics and tossed the rest to you.” Ethan throws his hands up, as you start laughing. “Okay hold on, I didn’t say I wanted to take them all – ” “You guys good?” Cruz swings by, soot and sweat on his face. He takes off his helmet with a sigh, and his shoulders sag like he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Should be asking you that. Are you guys done with search and rescue?” You ask, kicking a nearby plastic chair towards him. Cruz thanks you and starts taking off his equipment. “Yeah, we’ve cleared building. CPD’s in there now.” You nod, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of the police - well specifically at the thought of one detective who you know is on scene…

Except you’re supposed to be mad at him now, so stop thinking about him!

“So they think this is arson? And that it’s related to some case Intelligence is working?” Ethan asks, and Cruz nods, “Seems that way, yeah.”

There’s a moment of silence, and your eyes scan the area, watching patrol officers lift up police tape for the last few victims being wheeled into ambulances. You get up, ready to check with Will if he’s ready to go back when Cruz kicks at your feet, a cheeky smile on his face.

“So what’s this I hear about you and the younger Halstead being on the outs?” His eyes light up, and you groan, swearing. Ethan laughs, and you shoot him a glare, to which he simply shrugs like as if he’s got nothing to do with this.

You turn back to Cruz, narrowing your eyes at him. “Who told you and what do you know?”

“All I know is that you and Jay were both at Molly’s last night and you didn’t even look at each other.” Cruz pouts, acting all sad. “What happened to my favourite detective-doctor duo, huh? Why the trouble in paradise?”

You roll your eyes. “We’re fine. We just…were hanging out with different groups of people last night.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean against the nearby table of supplies, trying to look all nonchalant. Ethan raises his eyebrows, “So you’re definitely not pissed about the blonde chick Jay had drinks with 2 nights ago?”

“Okay, fuck you - ” You exclaim, unable to hide your rage at that memory. Which Ethan and Cruz find hilarious, apparently, because they’re throwing their heads back and laughing.

“You guys suck,” You punch Cruz in the arm as you walk away; the two men calling you back while still laughing. You flip your middle finger at them, which elicits an outraged “Hey!” Shaking your head, you chuckle as well.

The Med ED/Firehouse 51/Intelligence circle is a tight one and you love it - love having friends who are more or less in the same line of work, friends you can lean on, friends who don’t get pissed when you have to cancel on them last minute. But the flip side of that is the fact that nothing stays secret. Gossip is most the valuable currency in that social circle, so if Cruz and Ethan know, then it’s not a bad guess to think everyone knows.

“Dude, c’mon. You’re an adult. Just take the damn injection!” Severide’s voice catches your attention, and you turn. He’s standing at the back of an ambulance, with Will and Jay by his side (your heart, again, skips a beat, which only pisses you off because ugh, you’re so bad at being angry at him!). The three of them are crowded around a fairly attractive, topless blonde man sitting in the back of the ambulance, shaking his head vehemently. You start making your way towards them, listening in.

“Hell nah – I’m not letting you stab me with that shit – ” The guy’s eyes are wide, and he’s leaning back from Will.

“It’s just a tetanus shot,” Will explains, exasperated. He points to the guy’s side, where a bandaged piece of gauze has been stuck to his skin. “The rusty stairwell scratched you, so you need to get a tetanus shot.”

“I said, I’m not fucking doing needles!” Hot blond guy yells and Jay runs his hand down his face. “Okay dude seriously, I can’t question you about the fire unless you get treated first, so please just take the damn shot so we can all move on with our lives – ”

“What’s going on?” You interject, hands on your hips. All four men turn, and you’re very careful to not make eye contact with Jay. Will and Kelly both immediately shoot furtive glances at Jay once they see you, so obviously they also know that you and Jay are having an argument. Great!

I mean, it has to have been Jay’s fault, because you didn’t tell anyone…well except for Natalie…who might have told Maggie…who might have told April…who might have told Kelly - shit. Well, it doesn’t matter. The whole thing is only happening because of Jay. Technically the two of you weren’t really dating – it was just a couple of hookups, but then you also started hanging out a lot together, and it got to the point where everyone knew that the two of you were basically kinda sorta an item.

You liked that you guys never had to sit down and talk about what exactly the two of you were – all that meant was that you guys were strong and confident and that you didn’t need to have a discussion about where you stood!

Or at least that’s what it meant to you. Jay apparently thought it meant it was completely okay to go have drinks with an on and off ex from high school, who he’d admitted to you he’d hooked up with on multiple occasions in the past. When you (rightfully!) got pissed at him, he just frowned and said “What’s the problem? We’re not together.”

To which you responded very maturely.

So maturely!

In a very, very responsible way…

Okay, fine, maybe you screamed “FUCK YOU!” at the top of your lungs and left his apartment, slamming his front door loud enough to wake up all the neighbours.

You get that you’re maybe being a little over-dramatic, and maybe it is on you because you just assumed you didn’t have to have that conversation with Jay. But it hurt you immensely how he thought it was okay to go have drinks with an ex (an ex!) without thinking about you at all.

“Blake here tripped on his way down the fire escape and got scraped by a rusty stairwell, but he’s refusing his tetanus shot.” Will explains, snapping you out of your reverie.

You turn to the guy just in time to catch him giving you a very slow once over, smirking.

Okay…

“How come a big strong guy like you is scared of needles, hmm?” You tilt your head, putting on your best flirty voice. It’s just a thing that tends to work with unruly male patients, you’ve learned over the years.

And yeah, maybe it can be a side benefit that Jay’s going to be an audience to you flirting with someone else…serves him right!

“I’m uh, I’m not actually scared of needles. Just didn’t trust that guy – ” He nods towards Will, who throws his hands in the air, “ – to do a good job you know? Take a delicate hand for these things. Speaking of which…you look like you’re pretty good with your hands,” Blake licks his lips, flirting with you blatantly. You have to press your lips against each other to not burst out laughing.

“Dude…” Jay threatens in a deep, dark voice, but stops when you turn around and grab the tetanus shot pack out of Will’s hands. You step towards Blake, who’s looking up at you with lust in his eyes as he shifts for you. Wiping his shoulder down with an alcohol swab, you find a good spot.

“I’m pretty good with my hands too, by the way,” Blake supplies, winking and you nod. “I’ll bet,” You reply, as someone behind you scoffs. From the corner of your eye, you can see Kelly turn away, trying not to laugh.

You’re much closer to Blake than you really need to be, not that he minds – in fact you’re pretty sure he’s having a great time checking you out up close. He curses under his breath when you inject him, but quickly recovers. You rub on the jab site once done, and trash the used pack. “Good to go,” You shoot Blake a smile. “Oh, one more thing!”

You turn, looking at a very frowny, jaws tight, arms-crossed-over-his-chest Jay Halstead. “Let me borrow that,” You reach forward and take his notepad and pen from him, before scribbling down your number on the top most sheet. Ripping it off, you press it against Blake’s chest, winking. Blake’s hands come up to take the piece of paper, grinning, briefly brushing your fingers as you pull away. Jay’s jaw is on the floor when you return his notepad and pen to him, and you can see Will just shake his head at you, amusement all over his face.

“Alright, let’s go!” You say to Will, and the two of you plus Kelly leave Jay behind with Blake.

“Jay’s going to murder that guy, you know right?” Kelly asks, once you’re out out earshot from Jay. “Like, he’s going down for a homicide. You just got an innocent man killed.” You chuckle and Will lets out a low whistle.

“I’m not gonna say he didn’t have that coming, but damn that was harsh.” The older Halstead says, still laughing.

Shrugging your shoulders, you act innocent. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about – I was just making friends!”

Will and Kelly both look at each other before looking back at you.

“Oh, yeah, of course – ”

“Obviously, what else could that have been – ”

You punch them both in the shoulder at their faux-agreement, the three of you laughing. Ethan comes over, saying there’s an ambulance ready to take them back to Med. You and Will say your goodbyes to Kelly, and take your leave.

***

It’s almost midnight when you finally get home. Hip-checking your door close behind you, you start undoing your scarf and carelessly toss it onto your coffee table, before collapsing onto your couch. Your hand roams the crevices of your couch, finding the plastic remote and turning on your TV. Rubbing your eyes while yawning, your TV comes alive to the news of the day. As if on cue, the screen is filled with videos of the building from earlier this morning.

“…while the gas explosion was first assumed to be an accident, it was later proven by CPD Intelligence that it was started by Derrick Henderson, a 35 year-old construction worker from Englewood, who…”

There’s a knock on your door, three loud raps. You blink, confused, and there’s another three. Frowning, you sit up, and you hear: “Y/N, I know you’re in there, c’mon just…just let me in, please,” Jay’s voice is muffled from the other side of your front door, but you know it’s him. Groaning, you get up and make your way over, unlatching your door.

“What do you want.” You intone, seeing him standing there in your threshold. He grabs the door with his hand, like as if he’s afraid you’re gonna shut the door in his face.

“I think I owe you an apology,” Jay starts and you hum, agreeing. “And then I think you owe me an apology,” He finishes, and your mouth falls open.

“What the fuck did I do!” You yell, shoving against his chest. Unfortunately for you, he doesn’t even budge - which is kinda hot, actually, wait, dammit - focus!

Jay’s eyes go wide, like he can’t believe you’re claiming innocence. “Are you kiddi – that whole thing! With – with Blake, the fucking moron, who was basically stripping you with his eyes! That was so unnecessary – ”

“You literally went on a date with your ex and you’re telling ME what’s unnecessary?! You – ”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Your neighbour from down the hall yells, and both you and Jay shut up. “NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS YOU FUCKING MORONS!”

Jay scoffs, and turns to step down your hallway to your neighbour’s apartment when you reach out, grab him by his tee and unceremoniously drag him into your apartment. Slamming the door behind you, you turn to give him a piece of your mind.

“You’re the asshole who told me that we weren’t really together so it didn’t matter if you went out with your ex-girlfriend! So why the fuck is it a problem if I give my number out, huh?!”

Jay throws his hands in the air. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t fucking – I wasn’t thinking when I did what I did and I can see know that it probably really hurt you, but I swear I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t want to hurt you; I just fucked up. But you – you went out of your WAY to piss me off – ”

“ALL I DID WAS GIVE OUT MY NUMBER – ”

“IN FRONT OF ME! TO SOME OTHER GUY! WHEN I – ”

The two of you jump when there’s loud banging on your door. “I’M CALLING THE FUCKING POLICE ON YOU TWO!”

Jay wrenches your door open and you see your pissed off neighbour on the other side. “I’M HER BOYFRIEND AND I’M THE FUCKING POLICE, SO YOU’D JUST BE CALLING ME!” He slams the door shut and turns, running his hands over his face.

“Okay, okay, we gotta stop yelling. Anyway, my point is – what?” Jay asks, as you stand unmoving, mouth slightly open.

When you eventually find your voice, all you can say is - “You’re my boyfriend?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you – ” Jay smiles, reaching for you but you just step back.

“That you just decided you’re my boyfriend? Because this relationship is an autocracy?” You glare at him, getting angry again. The nerve of this guy!

Not that your heart didn’t practically soar when he called himself your boyfriend, but…

“No, no, we’re very democratic, and we should talk about this more, once we’re done with all the yelling.” Jay announces, and then he smiles. “I’m just saying I love you.”

“See, no, this is exactly the kind of issue with you - you just make decisions and act like you’re right and you can do whatever you want and you can go out with your ex if you want and that’s all supposed to be fine but the moment I – as a joke – hand out my number to some guy to give you a taste of your medicine, I’m the one who crossed a line and – wait, what?” You cut yourself off, confused if you’re hearing things.

“There we go,” Jay laughs, a fond smile etched on his face, as you finally process what he said.

“Did you just…did you just say you love me?” You ask, your voice soft as you step up to him.

“Yeah,” Jay’s grinning now, right in front of you. “I’m sorry it took me a while to realise it, but…I love you.”

You just blink at him for a couple of seconds, eyes starting to tear up. And then you punch him in the chest as hard as you can.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” Jay asks, eyes wide as he frowns, wholly confused.

“You fucking – fuck!” You whisper angrily, not wanting to piss off your neighbour again. “You had to fucking go out on a date with your ex-girlfriend and piss me the fuck off and make me make you jealous before you realised that you love me?!”

“I’ve been hit in the head multiple times…?” Jay shrugs apologetically.

“You’re an idiot.” You say, before cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pulling him down to press your lips together.

You can feel Jay smile through the kiss, bringing his hands up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, parting your lips. You’ve kissed each other many times before, in many ways – good morning pecks, in-the-middle-of-sex makeouts, teasing neck kisses – but something about this kiss is entirely new. It’s just…warm, and loving, and delicate and beautiful and just – just perfect.

When you pull apart, the two of you rest your foreheads against each other, smiling like dumb idiots.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #onechicago imagine #onechicago #cpd imagine #ethan choi #will halstead #kelly severide

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diningwiththeasquiths · 4 years ago

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PTSD!Poe from that one post has moved into my head and lives there rent-free now. So here's a Gingerpilot ficlet. 😏

Poe doesn't know why he'd been such a dick to his friends. Again.

He just feels so... angry and irritable all the time. Nothing he does is ever enough. And nobody seems to care as much about their cause as he does.

Still, he shouldn't have snapped at Rey like that.

She and Finn have been steering clear of him since the incident. It's probably been one time too many... No wonder they'd rather avoid him.

Right now it's far past midnight. He's aimlessly walking around the base, tense and restless. A few times he'd grabbed a bottle of booze from the not-so-secret stash in the Falcon, just to help him sleep. But it made him feel guilty; what if there was an emergency and he wouldn't be able to fly?

So now he's pacing around in big circles in the hope of tiring himself out.

When he walks past Hux's room for the fifth time, he notices the light is still burning. Of course Hux is still awake. Poe stops and quietly stands on his tiptoes to peer inside the dirty window of the little cot they housed him in.

Hux is sitting with his back to the window, bent over a small, rickety desk. He's taken off his jacket and Poe can count the knobs of his spine through his thin undershirt.

In a split second he's made his decision and is knocking on the glass. The sound is soft but Hux still jumps, startled. He lets him in without question though, which strengthens Poe's resolve.

He's noticed the way Hux has been looking at him ever since he joined their cause. It flatters him, really. And it's something he can use. Yeah, this will definitely help him take his mind off things for a while, and hopefully even relax him enough to fall asleep.

"Hey Hugs. Care for some company this fine evening? Don't think I haven't noticed you checking me out." Hux opens his mouth, probably to argue, but Poe talks right over him: "You totally have been! And it's fine, in fact I find it very flattering. And it makes me wonder... Would you like to have your way with me? Right now, I mean? Just say the word Hugs, and I'm yours."

Not his finest work. Thankfully, Hux doesn't seem to mind his straightforward approach.

"I don't have any... supplies," is his only reply, practical as always.

Poe curses, not in the mood to sneak all the way to the medbay for some lubricant. And he doesn't want to take ages with the preparation either. He just needs to stop feeling so much for a while.

"You've got soap here, right? Yeah, you're a clean guy. Let's use that."

It works surprisingly well. It's not long before Poe is on his knees and elbows on the bed with Hux's cock up his ass.

Hux feels good inside of him, it's not exactly painful but intense enough to distract him from everything else. Hux grips his fleshy hip tightly with one hand and pushes Poe's head down to the thin mattress with the other.

The only sounds in the room are their laboured, heavy breathing and the creaking of the narrow bed. Poe absent-mindedly hopes it won't break underneath their combined weight and movement.

He's getting close now. Supporting himself on a forearm and shoulder, Poe wraps his hand around his dick and moans into the sheets. Nearly there.

Stars it feels good. Who knew Hux could fuck like this. His thrusts are constant and precise, almost machine-like. Poe never wants it to end.

It does end, of course. Soon enough he tenses up and groans, coming all over the sheets and his fist in thick spurts. He nearly topples over. Hux is thrusting more slowly and shallowly now, probably feeling him clenching around himself.

After Poe relaxes into the aftermath of his orgasm, another wave of something makes its way through his body. It constricts his chest. Before he fully understands what is happening he is heaving with loud sobs.

Hux pulls away from him completely as soon as he realises what's going on. Were Poe to look behind him he'd see a stupefied look on Hux's face, which morphs into an uneasy frown.

Curling in on himself, Poe can't do anything else but lie there, breathing heavily with tears still streaming down his nose and stubbled cheeks. He feels completely overwhelmed all of a sudden.

After a few moments, a careful hand is placed on his back. It radiates warmth and feels somewhat grounding. A thumb strokes him ever so slightly, in an attempt to soothe. When Poe's breathing calms down a bit, Hux seems encouraged to start rubbing his back in slow circles.

Eventually Poe starts to feel more in control of himself again. His body unfolds and he lies on his side, facing the rough wooden wall. He makes no attempt to get up. He doesn't want to walk out into the night and be all alone again, but he also doesn't feel like talking or otherwise engaging with Hux. Except for touch, he likes it when Hux touches him. He just wants to lie here and accept whatever kindness Hux is willing and able to give.

Hux eventually cleans them both up a bit and maneuvers them underneath the soiled sheets. Poe gratefully lets it all happen. When Hux reaches out yet again, placing a comforting hand on his waist, Poe moves himself closer, silently encouraging Hux to wrap his arm around him. Now they're pressed together tightly, securely. Suddenly Poe feels exhausted. He exhales shakily and any remaining tension leaves his body.

They end up falling asleep just like that.

When morning comes and Poe opens his eyes, Hux is already out of bed; he's seated at his tiny desk and sips a mug of something steaming hot.

"Hey. Sorry for what happened last night," is the first thing Poe blurts out in a raspy voice.

"It happens to the best of us."

"Don't tell me you've broken down like that after sex before."

"Well. I usually hide it better."

Poe cracks a smile at that and huffs out a laugh through his nose.

Suddenly he faintly hears his own name being called. Apparently people are looking for him. His heart rate immediately shoots up. Perhaps something's happened?

"I gotta go."

"Of course," Hux says, standing up and handing him his trousers.

"I'll see you around, okay?" Poe says, whilst quickly getting dressed.

After Hux gives him an affirmative nod, Poe slips out the door. He's enjoyed his time with Hux more and on a much deeper level than he thought he would. Definitely something to explore further at a later date. If he doesn't perish in a space battle before they can meet up again, that is.

They're still calling his name. When he hurries towards the area where the sound is coming from, he can see that the people shouting are Finn and Rey. They look very relieved to see him. BB-8 rolls after them and lets out a big beep when he spots his human. He quickly zooms past Finn and Rey, and Poe crouches down to hug his droid hello. The cool, round shape feels more comforting than it has felt in a while.

"Hey... We were wondering where you were," Finn says carefully as they walk up to him.

"Just out and about," is Poe's vague answer. "Had a bit of a rough time last night," he adds, feeling like he owes them at least part of the truth.

"Yeah we figured-"

"We've been talking and thinking about ways to help you," Rey interjects, bumping into Finn's side in a familiar way. She seems as determined as always.

Poe isn't sure if there's a solution for what he's going through right now, but the fact that they care and want to help does make him feel less alone.

Of course they will always be there for him. He's got the best friends in the galaxy. And his enemy-turned-ally-turned-lover is not so bad either, apparently.

Smiling at them a bit sheepishly, he counts himself lucky and thinks that perhaps it will all be okay in the end, somehow.

#gingerpilot #poe dameron #armitage hux #dining writes #SOMEHOW... Poe's mental health has returned #lol #long post #I always fret about using a read more or not #also if I should put it on AO3

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ohayohimawari · 4 years ago

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And Everyone Else Knew It

A drabble for Day 5 of @kakaobiweek Blue | Safe | Mutual Pining

Brief mature humor, romance, and fluff. I hope that you enjoy reading it!

And Everyone Else Knew It

Kakashi combed his cowlicks with his fingers and tried to steady his heart as he hurried to meet with Obito.

It was part of the latter’s conditional release to have regular meetings with a member of Konoha’s security force. As Hokage, Kakashi was not only the top of the law and order food chain in the village, he was also the only one with authority to pardon anyone for war crimes. As such, the Council of Elders decided that he would be the one assigned to supervise Obito’s rehabilitation and integration back into society. But there was a problem with this arrangement.

Obito was hot, and Kakashi had it bad for him.

His attraction to his old teammate and hero set in almost the exact moment they were reunited on the battlefield during the Fourth Great Shinobi War. The shock over the fact that Obito was most certainly not dead lasted for a fraction of a second, replaced by the shock over the handsome man he’d become. Kakashi barely had an opportunity to make sense of his conflicted feelings before they fought in their Kamui dimension, where he wished they were exchanging blows of an entirely different variety.

But that would be impossible, even after the impossible became possible.

Just because Obito was alive didn’t mean he could return Kakashi’s feelings. Any daydream in which the Rokudaime might indulge quickly ended with the cold, hard fact that a man who would start an international war over a female was probably, most likely, definitely not into dudes.

Even though he wore a watch these days, Kakashi checked the sun’s position in the sky to determine the time. He quickened his pace when he realized he was running late. Running late was Obito’s schtick, and now that he was back, it seemed silly to Kakashi to mimic the habit. At least, that’s what he told himself to explain why he would always hurry to their meetings, not because he was excited to see him or anything.

The funny thing was, was that Obito wasn’t arriving late to their meetings, either.

Kakashi attributed Obito’s punctuality to his desire to make a good impression on his parole officer instead of desiring his parole officer. But what a delicious fantasy that was; it was one that Kakashi turned to often in private and one that he shook clear from his mind as he opened the door to the restaurant where they agreed to meet. They had important things to discuss this time.

Obito said he'd undergone many changes recently, so Kakashi suggested they'd meet in a more casual atmosphere than his office. That way, it could be more like two friends having a conversation instead of abiding by the guidelines of Obito’s punishment.

However, when Kakashi spied Obito waving to him from where he was already seated in a booth, the Rokudaime wondered if he’d set himself up for additional hurt by arranging what could feel more like a date to him than a meeting.

Kakashi nodded a curt greeting at the three remaining members of Team Ten, who enjoyed their weekly dinner together in the booth next to Obito before joining his unrequited crush.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m starving, so I already ordered for us,” Obito said as soon as Kakashi sat down.

“That’s fine,” Kakashi was too nervous to have an appetite, anyway. “So, you mentioned that a lot has happened since the last time we met,” he folded his hands in front of him on the table, “you should be moved into your new apartment by now.”

“I am,” Obito nodded.

“How do you like it?”

“I mean, it’s an apartment,” Obito looked down at his lap. “It’s small, but it’s bigger than my prison cell and comfier than a cave.”

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully in response, quietly considering how Obito lived for so long in hiding and doing his best to ignore how his heart ached for the man.

“My neighbor is a kind woman,” Obito continued, briefly meeting Kakashi’s gaze. “She’s elderly; her eyesight isn’t great, and I don’t think she knows who I am,” he smirked sheepishly. “I help her carry her groceries up the stairs, and she brings a plate of whatever she bakes that day, which is really nice.”

This sent Kakashi’s aching heart into somersaults, and he figured he better say something while he still could talk. “Are you forming connections and friendships with others?”

“Yeah, y’know, Gai comes around with his student, Lee, and they invite me to train with them. They, uh,” Obito chuckled, “gave me a matching leotard, and I like sparring with them, but I don’t think green is my color,” he laughed. “It’s nice to feel included, though.”

“Gai is pretty great that way,” Kakashi agreed, thankful for his old friend and rival.

“Kurenai smiles and waves at me when I see her at the cemetery these days, so I hope that we’ll become closer over time.”

Kakashi nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and ignoring how his stomach tightened.

“I dunno, there’s only one person that I talk to a lot since I’ve come back, and that’s, well,” Obito mirrored Kakashi’s discomfort across the table, “I mean, everything about my life is complicated, but that’s really complicated.”

“How so?”

“Well, they’re pretty great,” Obito’s sheepish smile returned.

Kakashi noted that when it seemed that everything else about his old teammate had changed, that expression remained the same. Then he realized that he was lost in thought, not listening as Obito continued to talk.

“...And they make me feel safe. Which, after everything I’ve been through, that’s pretty important.”

Kakashi kicked himself for not paying attention to Obito because whatever he said made him blush.

“Anyway, that’s hopeless,” Obito muttered.

“Why?” Kakashi asked.

“Well, I was kind of a jerk to them when I was a kid, and… and then I went and messed everything up.”

Kakashi leaned over the table closer to Obito to emphasize his earnestness. “People are learning that you were taken advantage of, Obito. Yes, you did terrible things, but you were manipulated when you were vulnerable. Then, you fought alongside the Allied Shinobi Forces when we needed it, and most importantly, you aren’t running from the repercussions of your actions. That’s why I could pardon you, and it’s why people are able and willing to forgive you.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“Here’s your broiled saury,” a waitress interrupted, and Kakashi sat back in his seat so she could set his dinner down on the table in front of him.

Obito thanked her and assured her that they had everything they needed before leaving them alone at their table.

“This is my favorite,” Kakashi muttered.

“Yeah, I know,” Obito replied off-handed, reaching for his utensils.

As casual as it seemed to Obito, the gesture touched Kakashi. He swallowed down the dangerous beginnings of hope before it could take hold of his exhausted heart and sought to encourage Obito in all of his pursuits. “If I’ve learned anything from being Naruto’s teacher, it’s that nothing is ever truly hopeless.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” Obito spoke through a mouthful of food, and it amazed Kakashi that he could find even that attractive.

“They’re popular, like, really popular, internationally popular,” Obito’s eyes bulged as he stressed the point. “They could seriously have just about anyone they wanted, and I can’t exactly compete with that,” he finished, clearly crestfallen. “Anyway, let’s talk about something else.”

Kakashi was not a romantic man, and he knew it, and he also knew that he didn’t have a chance in hell with the man that sat across from him, no matter how much he yearned to reach out and reassure Obito that he was worth loving, and—

Kakashi chewed his dinner and choked on the word ‘love’ when it crossed his mind. He was in way deeper than he thought and decided that a change of subject was probably best. “You mentioned that you found a job,” he offered.

“Oh, yeah!” Obito perked up at the opportunity to share his good news. “I may not be a ninja anymore, but I’m still in pretty good shape.”

Really good shape, Kakashi thought.

“So, I was offered a modeling contract.”

Kakashi dropped his fork in his surprise, and it clattered on the table.

Obito laughed at him. “I know, it’s unexpected, but,” he chuckled again and awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Looks like I’m going to be the next bad boy in Blue Boy.”

“Blue Boy?” Kakashi repeated, astonished. “The gay men’s lifestyle magazine?”

“You know it?” Obito asked, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were into— I-I, I mean, I’ve bought a few editions,” Kakashi felt his mouth go dry, “for the articles.” And if Obito would be featured in its photo spreads, he’d be buying a subscription.

“Right,” Obito drawled sarcastically, and Kakashi felt seen. “Anyway, to be honest, I was amazed too,” he fiddled with the straw in his drink, “I don’t exactly consider myself to be fashion model material.”

“You’re hot!” Kakashi was juggling too many surprises, and as a result, dropped his filter. Then he did his best to pick it up and put it back on when Obito’s eyes snapped to his face. “I mean, that’s hot, I mean, good for you,” he wished for the earth to open up and swallow him, or for an assassin to show up intent on taking him out, or—

“You think I’m hot?” Obito asked quietly, tenderly, longingly.

Kakashi licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak but closed it when everyone heard Shikamaru’s groan from the table next to them.

“Mendokusē! Would you two just kiss already?”

Both men sat in silence, staring at each other. Kakashi felt as flushed as Obito looked.

“Shikamaru’s right,” Choji agreed. “You two are worse than a one-hundred-thousand-word slow burn fanfic.”

“Oh, I love those!” Ino gasped.

“A what?” Kakashi asked.

“Who cares,” Obito answered, his eyes beginning to smolder in a way that Kakashi had only dreamed. “Let’s pay the bill and—”

“My place or yours?” Kakashi flagged down their waitress.

“How about ours?” Obito asked, his Sharingan eye already spinning.

#kakaobiweek2021 #kakaobi #kakashi #obito #day 5 #hima writes

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thewriting-corner · 3 years ago

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Rating my old WIP’s lines

A couple of weeks ago, I think Calliope started this trend but because I have quite literally felt like death for the past two months, only until now have I felt actual energy to make this post. So, without further ado, brace your eyes and souls and be prepared to lose absolutely all respect you have for me as a writer.

Also, I had to dig into my deep dark past of Quotev novels and I deeply apologize for that. I really hope no one that knows me from there somehow found their way here lol, and if you have, please erase that version of me from your mind. That was Lu error 404 and we do not know her.

Chasing Smoke - 3/10

“I can still remember the day I crossed paths with Camila Smoke.”

Thank you buddy, that would be so much interesting if we were actually invested in your life. I appreciate the attempt at being a classic romcom, but let’s just say that those aren’t exactly classics because they’re good.

Idiot’s Guide To Falling In Love - 1/10

“Walk faster. You’re going to be late. You know they hate it when you’re late.”

No. Just, no. Why. The fact that over 2000 people read this is astounding to me because just this first line makes me want to stop writing for the rest of my life.

When The Clock Strikes Twelve - 5.5/10

“We all know the story - Cinderella, Prince Charming, the evil stepmother and fairy godmother. We know how it begins and how it ends, but do you know what happens next? Because trust me, the story doesn’t end with a magic slipper.”

This was a gender-swapped Cinderella story and as cringy as the first lines are, I still really like it. It’s definitely my old style, which is basically a 2014 CW/Freeform show but to be fair, I was 15 and at that point I still somehow believed I would marry my first love so let’s not hold my delusions against me.

The Poet - 4/10

“All I wanted to do was send the guy I like a poem, anonymously confessing my love for him on his birthday.”

This story had so much potential but with every rewrite of the first four chapters, it just always fell flat. And this first line? Come one. Boringggg. It could be worse, but it could also be SO much better.

Fearless - negative infinity/10

“I saw my phone lit up. Usually when my phone lit up it would've been one of my friends from school. Non of them was as close to me as May was but I did have really good friends from school, instead it was my mom, I was at the park, since she'd told me write down everything that had happened, the text my mom had sent me said 'Ally, come home, it's time for dinner, I don't want you being out so late', my mom knew that nothing would happen to me, but since what happened to May she was scared that I was out of the house at 3:30. I'd been more hurt than she was, but at least I wasn't paranoid about it.”

I don’t even have to say anything. This speaks for itself. 12 year old Lu did not know how to use a period.

Hope: Middle School Diary - can I retire now

“Before I start telling my story I think I should introduce myself. My name is Hope Jones and I'm 11 years old. I live with my single mom Margaret, my 16 year old sister Eva and my 4 year old brother Augustus but we like to call him Auggie or Gus. “

I-- No. I can’t. Why.

Run - plagiarism 10/10

“They said the world was different. That it wasn't exactly the most peaceful, but it was free. But those are just legends, as some people who I know have come to put it, while others believe it's history that happened as a lesson for those in the future.”

Well okay then Little Miss Brave New World and every other classic dystopia. Had I ever read a dystopia when I wrote this? No. Is it somehow exactly like every single dystopian YA I’ve ever read? 100% yes. Still a lot better than my other Quotev novels so it gets a total 1.5/10

Broken Mirrors/Midnight Zone

Okay so this one has two versions: the Quotev and the Wattpad version. You guys can bear witness to how my writing changed from 11 years old to 15 lol.

“What would you do if one day you looked at the mirror and your reflection wasn't there?” 2/10 because that just doesn’t make sense?? Though tbh I’d celebrate, ngl

“Years ago a family lived as happily as they could. To most people they were picture perfect. To others, the family hid a secret.” 3/10. I feel like the use of “as they could” really hints to the fact that they were messed up so bravo to me for that one. Still, not very interesting and if I read this in a book, I’d slam it shut.

The Wrath of Chaos - 9/10

“The end of the world began with a test.”

I truly believe this is the most iconic line I will ever write and nothing will ever convince me otherwise. It draws me in, leaves me guessing, makes me anxious and has me asking the question “what type of test?” as if I haven’t spent the last two years editing this story. Truly iconic. My headstone will wear this line.

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dragonheart-swtor · 4 years ago

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Friends and Fears

Summary: Eris is the Alliance Commander, Cipher Nine; Reykal is the most recent champion of the Great Hunt. Each of them finds someone utterly unintimidated by them in the other - something both of them need, especially when discussing old fears usually best left buried. Or, Just a quick one-shot of a bar chat between friends that should've taken me a week and instead somehow took me the better part of a year because I kept getting stuck. (Title subject to change, I've been sitting here for twenty minutes and can't think of anything better so it's either this or the doc name which is just "Spooky", if anyone comes up with anything better feel free to give me a heads-up)

Tags: Female Bounty Hunter & Female Imperial Agent, alcohol consumption (not excessive)

Find me on AO3 at Dragonheart37!

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The tiny, grimy cantinas that dotted the streets of every space station like this one were always bustling with activity, rowdy with fights and gambling and music, and this one was no different. It wasn't the kind of place where you couldn't take your hand off your credit purse, but it definitely was the kind of place you wanted to keep a vibroknife on you at all times, just in case. Any self-respecting citizen – Imperial, Republic, or Alliance, and probably Zakuulian too – would steer clear of a place like this. Which was, of course, exactly why it was the best kind of place for an Alliance Commander and a Great Hunt champion to disappear; Reykal always fit right in without even trying, and all it took was a change of makeup and a less formal outfit for Eris to go unnoticed in a place where no one was looking for her.

Reykal had promised this particular spot had the best food and drinks this side of the station, and she wasn't wrong – the fare here was greasy, but good, and came in truly enormous proportions. Better yet, it was busy and loud, and after a quick scan and sweep for bugs – purely out of habit, of course – Eris could actually believe that she didn't need to be on high guard for people listening in. It was nice to just settle in and amiably listen to Reykal spin dramatic stories of her most impressive hunts – even if she'd heard one or two of them before – and of her most recent ones as well, side jobs taken while the Alliance didn't have anything of import for her.

She was just wrapping up one such story when Eris spotted the Sith.

Eris, through sheer power of habitual control, did not stiffen at the sight of him – masked and robed in full Sith garb, clearly just passing through the cantina on his way out from a back room somewhere. She tracked him for a moment – but he didn't turn to look at them, just swept past as if the room were empty instead of crowded with people. She carefully didn't turn to watch him go, despite the urge to do so and despite seeing Reykal turn out of the corner of her eye. Instead, as soon as she was satisfied he wasn't approaching them, she locked her eyes on the reflections in her glass to the exclusion of all else, using the visual focus to shutter everything else away. If there's nothing else in your mind, there's nothing they can read. Just glass, light and color reflected over the curved surface, playing shapes over the pale green liquid inside, tiny bubbles floating to the surface – no thought, no emotion, just glass. Nothing they can read.

“Kinda spooky, aren't they?”

She glanced up at Reykal's interruption. The Togruta sipped her brandy. “Sith. Jedi. Force people.” She wiggled her fingers as if that needed further explanation. “The way they move, the way people move for 'em without even realizing. How they answer questions you haven't even asked sometimes.” She snorted into her glass. “Fuckin' spooky.”

Eris chuckled despite herself, tension easing at the sheer casualness of Reykal's blasphemy. The Sith was gone, the door swinging shut behind him as Reykal spoke – out of the usual range of mental contact. Reykal's eyes sparkled with humor too; she stretched her arms out in front of her across the bar like a cat, all relaxed grace despite her bulk. “It's not the way I would have put it,” Eris admitted, “but I can't say you're wrong.”

“They make everybody nervous. It's not just you. Though I'm surprised you haven't gotten more used to 'em, considering.” She smiled when Eris blinked, a little surprised. “You hide it well. But you quit moving for a split second every time one of 'em comes into the room. You spend more time watching them than me, or Dad, or Hylo. Which probably isn't good for your wallet, knowing Dad and Hylo.” She grinned to take the edge off the joke, points of her fangs still hidden.

“Apparently I don't hide it well enough,” Eris remarked, sipping her own drink – some bubbly lime-and-mint mix she'd already forgotten the name of that the bartender promised tasted almost exactly like its alcoholic version – as she scanned the crowd once. “I've had some... bad experiences. Let's just put it that way.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. You worked with 'em back in the Empire, right?” Reykal rested her chin on one hand, fingers tapping her temple absently. “I did a job for some Intelligence guy, back in the day. Forget his name. Seemed pretty skeeved by the whole thing. Ended up having to kill him after he did try to murder me. 'Loose ends,' or whatever.”

Eris blinked. “Oh, that was you? I think I heard about that.”

Reykal raised her eyebrows. “Really? I thought it was supposed to be under the table, nobody was supposed to know about it.”

Eris laughed aloud at that, shaking her head. “Intelligence always knows.” She paused. “Which probably wasn't the most comforting thing to say, was it?”

“Probably not.” Reykal grinned at her again. “I figure if Intelligence was going to come after me, they'd have done it by now.”

“You were a low-priority target,” Eris assured her, smiling back wryly. “We had bigger fish to fry, at the time. That would have been right before the Dominator blew up and everything went to hell.”

“Bigger fish to fry, eh?” Reykal chuckled. “I'm insulted.”

“Intelligence deals with pretty big fish. Be glad you weren't one of them.”

“Speaking from experience?” Reykal asked, arching an eyebrow.

Eris shrugged, sipping her drink again to hide her smile. “That's classified.”

Reykal scoffed, mocking exasperation at the old half-joke. “'That's classified.' Someday I'm going to have to get some actual drinks in you to get all those classified stories out of you.” She winked. “Personally, I think you just can't hold your alcohol and that's why you're never caught dead with it.”

“That's also classified.” She didn't bother to hide the grin this time.

“Kriff's sake,” Reykal exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “You're impossible. I don't know why I bother.”

Eris laughed. “I'm sure you're very put-upon to deal with me.”

Reykal downed the rest of her glass and turned to flag down the bar droid; Eris took the opportunity to sip her drink and sift through her thoughts again, deliberating. “You're right,” she murmured after a moment of quiet. Reykal turned back to her, raising an eyebrow, and she clarified, “The Sith do... make me nervous. They all do, but... Sith especially.” She huffed a half-hearted laugh. “It's not exactly a secret, at least not to them. They can feel fear a mile away.”

Reykal took her refilled drink absently, attention focused on Eris much more seriously than she had been before. “Working with 'em doesn't help?” she asked. “You and Beniko seem... close.”

Eris tapped the rim of her drink, staring down into it as she thought through her next words. “Minister Beniko and I have worked together closely for long enough that I'm no longer concerned about her...” She trailed off.

“Acting like a murder-hobo Sith?” Reykal filled in. Eris gave her a look that made her snort and raise an appeasing hand. “Sorry. But you were thinking it too.”

“I would have phrased it more tactfully,” Eris sighed, “but... yes. Sith... they tend to use their power to its utmost to control those around them. It's just how things are in the Empire. And they have a great deal of power.” She pursed her lips. “Do you know some cultures worship Force-users as demigods?” Reykal shook her head. “It's true. And who can really blame them?”

Reykal nodded. “A lot of people are scared of them. Not just in the Empire, either. Anyone in their right mind would be wary.”

“It's... bizarre, to be equal to a Force-user,” Eris admitted. “In the Empire, even the lowest Sith acolyte ranks above the Force-blind. To have Minister Beniko and Darth Nox at my war table – my war table – and not be answering to them as superiors... I'm still not used to it, even after all this time. And Master Garen'ishta, and the Barsen'thor – even Senya. I'm used to having to be afraid of them. At this point, I'm not sure I'm capable of not being nervous around them. Not...” Not after Jadus. And Zhorrid. But that she couldn't say out loud, not here, not even to Reykal. “Not after working directly under them for so long.”

Reykal hummed sympathetically, running a finger around the rim of her glass. “I don't blame you. I talk a big game, but really, Force-users have been some of my most dangerous targets. There's a reason most hunters don't take contracts on them at all.” She took a sip of brandy, jaw working as she thought. Quietly, barely audible over the noise of the bar, she added, “D'you actually think any of 'em might turn on you?”

Eris pursed her lips, but shook her head. “Not at this point. The Jedi will fight alongside us for as long as they're convinced our cause serves the greater good – no matter how much the Barsen'thor pretends to be aloof. If Nox were going to turn on us, she would've done it by now; she's had ample opportunity, and in any case, she hates Zakuul and Arcann for stealing her place in the Empire from her too much to ally with them. Senya... Senya will stay loyal for now, at least. And Minister Beniko has long since proved her loyalty, as I said.”

“Well, that's good, at least.” Reykal cracked a grin. “Better'n if you were actually logically worried about 'em.”

Eris smiled. “Are you insinuating that I'm being illogical?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“You are insufferable,” she said mildly, taking another sip of her drink.

Reykal laughed aloud, fangs flashing in the light. “Eh, that's why you like me. None of that faffin' about trying to be dainty and diplomatic about it.”

Eris shook her head, still smiling, but didn't deny it. It was true, really – Reykal was perhaps the only person she talked to on a regular basis who wasn't constantly embroiled in politics and diplomacy, who was brashly open about her thoughts and feelings. It was refreshing, if she was honest – a chance to relax for once, to not constantly have to be watching her every word and gesture. To pretend they were just two friends at a bar and nothing more, for a little while.

Reykal spun around on her stool and leaned back against the bar, flipping her back lek over the edge so it wouldn't get crushed. “We should go shooting after this,” she offered, grinning lazily at Eris. “See if your pistol aim's gotten any better.”

Eris arched an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. It was hard to tell in the cantina's soft mood lighting, but she was fairly sure Reykal's lekku were flushed a deeper red than usual. She half-smiled. “I think you've had one too many drinks for that, Master Candessan.”

“Pah, too many drinks. I've shot in worse situations'n this, more drunk'n this.” She grinned again to take the edge off the comment. “Suit yourself, though. What do you do for fun, anyway, when you're not gettin' swamped by hell-knows-what kinda work from the Alliance?”

“You might have heard of this thing called 'reading,'” Eris said, allowing herself an impish grin.

Reykal scoffed playfully through her teeth. “Oh, sure, now the high-and-mighty Imperial act comes out.”

“Don't tell me you're a literary connoisseur.”

“Doesn't mean I don't read.” She stuck out her tongue at Eris in a gesture so childish it startled a genuine laugh out of her. “Miss Hoity-Toity Imperial-Logo-Boxers over here, makin' fun of us peasant folk. What's the Alliance come to?”

Eris swatted her shoulder, trying and failing to stifle her laughter. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“'Cause you like me,” Reykal reminded her cheerfully. She slid off the stool to stand next to the bar. “C'mon, finish your drink already and let's get outta here. We can go window-shopping on the boardwalk and see if there's anything to spend the night on.”

“I do have work to do tomorrow,” Eris told her, but she swallowed the last of her drink and stood as well, sliding a credit chit across the counter to the bar droid as it clanked over.

Reykal wagged a scolding finger at her. “Ay, none of that. You said we'd get a night on the town, you're getting a night on the town. You work yourself too hard.”

“Very well,” Eris agreed, shaking her head with a fond smile. “But I draw the line at drunk bounty hunting or robbing anyone in an alley.”

“You're no fun.” Reykal offered her arm with a dramatic flourish and Eris took it with another laugh, letting the bounty hunter lead her out the door.

#swtor #swtor ocs #swtor fanfiction #imperial agent #bounty hunter #erisine #reykal #eris has ✨trauma✨#reykal's really good for her honestly though #'casual blasphemy' is exactly what she needs sometimes #the contrast in voice between these two cracks me up honestly #fanfiction

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jjaeong · 4 years ago

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The Heiress, And The Twelve. Act I.

Episode IV: Courage, Is Not The Absence Of Fear.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: OT12 & Mafia Heiress Female Reader.

Summary: The esteemed guests had finally paid the Y/L/N Family a visit, to which the members could have never expected the reason exactly as to why. But along with the confusion that their visitors had brought with them, was at the price of something shifting within Y/N at the situation she had been put up to.

[TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, INVOLVES MENTION OF BLOOD AND WEAPONRY. READ UNTIL 9’S PHONE CALL IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS.]

“Have you ever heard of the story about felines predicting catastrophes before humans could even detect them?”

Hyunjin stared blankly at the man that walked in front of her with his hands held behind his back, a serene expression set on his features as his eyes gazed over to the blooming flowers that had surrounded his garden. At each exit of the field, several men in black suits had stood to guard them while the young girl with the oversized yellow cardigan tailed behind the tall man whom had graying strands on his hair, to which oddly made him seem much more wise than he was ought to be. But Hyunjin found that idea false, for the man that had stood in with his back turned to her had always spoke with a heavy tone in his voice—as if he had thoroughly picked through each of his sentences with extra thought, it was the exact reason why she’d allowed herself to become a part of their Family, after all.

“I’ve heard of it once, from Yves-unnie.. I think. When she was sitting by the courtyard.” the man hummed in response, stopping in his tracks and turning to face the thin tree that had stood next to him—eyes examining the flowers that had bloomed from them before smiling softly and looking down at Hyunjin.

“When I was around your age, my parents had always kept a few animals in the house—to the point of it looking almost like an animal sanctuary rather than a home to a Mafia Family,” Hyunjin’s eyes stayed locked on the tree as the man resumed his stroll, keeping enough distance to be able to listen to his story before she had rushed to follow after him, “it may sound odd—because what did you expect a house filled with hitmen roaming freely, fully armed at all times to look like—but you’d definitely not expect to find a deer to be standing by one of the ponds, drinking from it’s pool while a family of swans passes by and a butterfly sitting on top of one of it’s antlers..” the young girl tilted her head at the mention of the animals, feeling the weight that the memory had carried from how the man’s tone changed from simple reminiscing to the sudden somberness that had switched after he teased his Family’s lifestyle.

“One of my greatest friends, whom was also the Heir to his Family’s name always had this sparkle in his eyes whenever he’d visit, stating that how our Family had lived was so different compared to his—our home felt more of like a refuge than the active warzone that he had called his own,” Hyunjin’s lips pulled into a small smile just as the man peeked behind him to also smile at the girl, shrugging his shoulders before raising a hand to run his fingers through the flowers as the passed—something that Hyunjin followed as well but only by walking close to them and lifting her finger in an shy manner, “he’d always tell me that one day, he could only hope that he could build such peace with his Family—though he did wish that our Families had never split apart.”

“The separation between the Mun Family and Jin Family.” Hyunjin whispered, peeking over to catch a glimpse at the man as if he would confirm if her answer was correct—to which he did, nodding but pulling his hand back to rest behind him again as they strolled peacefully through the spring air.

“Our Families together ruled thousands of territories, commanded over millions of men—so much strength to which was soon overcome with overpowering ambition, the Jin Family never knew when to stop and so they brought it upon themselves to be left by another family whom had stayed true to their colors to this day.”

“Kim,” Hyunjin answered, more confidently this time. Her brows knitted in concentration as she recalled the notes that she had scattered all over her and Heejin’s bedroom floor, the older girl’s whining ringing in the back of her head as Hyunjin kept repeating keywords to herself as the other girl tried to sleep, “out of the three major Families, they’re the wealthiest when it comes to land and associates.”

“We don’t usually take sides, but if it comes to a war of some sort—they’d learn to lean on us, as we would to them.” the two then stopped in the middle of an empty pond, the only view from the structure was the flowing waterfall and several koi’s that had swam freely through the clear water.

“Before Jin had declared war against our Family—with Mother as the boss at the time—our home was attacked the night before, I was just about to go to bed after studying the entire day when this.. Yellow cat, a Maine Coon,” Hyunjin looked over to the man, finding his arms crossed but Hyunjin’s eyes locked onto the glimmering blue ring that was set in his finger—running a thumb on the gem as he looked at the pond as he recalled that night, “she had always sat on my Mother’s lap, but she’d always seem to have watched over me as I slept. And so on the night of the attack, she had woke me up by biting onto my finger until I had eventually awakened—with our people leading me out of my quarters just before I heard the gun shots start ringing.” the man turned to look down at the younger girl whom met his gaze half-way, the battered aura that the girl with wide eyes had usually carried was almost overshadowed by the amazement and curiosity that the girl had currently beheld.

“The yellow cat passed away just as I became boss, almost a year before my parents had passed due to old age. But those animals had aided me in my survival for my short-lived childhood, they were more of my allies than they were my parents’ pets.” Hyunjin tore her gaze away from the man to eye his ring that rested on his arm yet again, nodding in understanding before facing the pond with the man soon following after her.

“I see her in you, Kim Hyunjin,” the man couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh at how odd it sounded, the personification of the animal and to the child he had just been introduced to within the year—but he knew it to himself that he had to let the younger girl know, “I believe that you have the same gift as she did—though you haven’t entirely shown signs of it yet—you have the same spirit inside of you just waiting to be awakened. You’re a special girl, I hope you don’t ever forget that.”

Hyunjin felt her heart hammering against her chest as her eyes snapped back to what was currently happening in front of her, the voices she managed to tune out after they've entered through the doors, exchanged pleasantries pierced through her bubble of sudden recollection of the conversation between her and the past boss a few years ago. She scanned the men that had stood by the bottom of the steps, surrounded by over a thousand of your people as a man with a prince-like aura to him smiled cunningly at Haseul—almost trying his best to appeal to her for them to carry on with whatever they had wished to plead.

"My name is Joshua, and here standing beside me are my members—Jihoon, Mingyu, Jeonghan, Wonwoo—and our Heir, Lee Chan," Joshua gestured to the suit-clad men that stood behind him before placing a hand on Lee Chan's shoulder, the weight of his hand seemingly heavy as Joshua practically pulled him from where he stood to almost offer him to the Leader—something which Sooyoung visibly winced at and Haseul could only eye the group for, "he had ordered us to search the city, for a particular friend of ours that had been left.. Unhinged."

"Unhinged..? What do you mean?!" Sooyoung's commanding voice made Joshua falter in his position and had the Heir taking a step back, as if he was already cowering in fear when he felt a more gentler hands rest on his shoulders this time—the man with the long hair named Jeonghan smiled up at Sooyoung whom looked furious compared to the different sets of expressions that had been plastered on her members' features.

"We're not looking for any trouble, we're just here for our friend. We've come here to inform you of that."

"And you didn't consult us.. On the first day of your search?" Haseul slowly dragged, eyes moving from one member to another as she now had placed a hand on her hip, to which the tallest of the bunch—Mingyu—let out a nervous laugh that echoed through the tense atmosphere before making eye contact with Joshua who's eye could only twitch at him. He then shut his mouth and inched himself closer to a stone-faced Wonwoo, eyes dead set on Heejin who had refused to meet his gaze since they've entered the courtyard.

"And this friend of yours—you're certain that he's in this city?" Mingyu couldn't seem to keep himself neutral, nodding in an almost child-like manner as Haseul questioned them. Chan lifted his head to look grimly at Haseul's pondering gaze, he swallowed sharply just before pulling himself away from Jeonghan's hands, getting down to his knees and bowing down completely to the Leader, leaving everyone in shock at the pitiful scene.

"Dino—"

"Please help us, Y/L/N Boss! I'm begging you!" he cried, continuing to plead with his forehead against the gravel and his members stunned as they stood behind him. The smile plastered on Joshua's face slowly fell into a contemptuous expression as he stared down at his boss before he got down on his knees to completely face the man, placing his hands on his arms in attempt of getting him back up on his feet but the boss pushed him back with tears falling freely from his eyes.

"No! They'll kill him, Hyung! He's lost his mind but we can't just—he's still my brother!" Chan shouted at his member who slowly fumed at his boss' words, which made Mingyu quickly spring into action and grab ahold of Joshua as the man thrashed in his hold.

"That's what I'm trying to stop—you idiot! You think I want him dead!? He's as much of a brother to me as he was to you—"

"Shut up!" Sooyoung's voice cut through the heated argument before the boss and his member, leaving the two silenced in their positions as they glared harshly at one another. Sooyoung pinched the bridge of her nose before turning to Haseul who could only stare at the commotion in thought before she slowly ascended the steps and got onto Chan's level, the boss almost cowering in fear but the small smile that had graced Haseul's features had offered a slight ease to the man.

"This.. Brother of yours, do you have any idea where he could be right now?"

"Hyunjin!? What—hey! Unnie, help!" Sooyoung rushed to the other side of the entrance to where Heejin had practically held her best friend up on her feet, the men that had surrounded the meeting had pulled out their pistols and had them pointed at the members of the Lee Family. Haseul stood from her spot as Heejin and Sooyoung practically carried Hyunjin back into the Mansion with the Leader motioning for the goons to put their guns down—turning to look back down at the Lee Family with a completely blank expression on her face, asking them to follow her inside and talk to her about it in the lounge.

"Yah! Kim Hyunjin! You're crazy—get a grip!" Heejin's alarmed tone rang through Hyunjin's ears as the two members sat her down in the infirmary, one of the nurses that had been Kahei's pupil quickly excused herself at the sight of the three, knowing well enough that they were all capable of the same practices as she'd learnt from the Fifth girl—but if any of the three would be an exception in the art of medicine, it would be Ha Sooyoung.

"No, no—This isn't normal, Yves-unnie," Sooyoung placed her fingers over the girl's pulse on her throat as her other hand worked on checking her temperature then gently tugging down on the bottom lid of her eye, "Yves-unnie you have to listen to me, something's wrong—" Heejin had placed a bucket right next to Hyunjin just the girl looked just about ready to pass out. Sooyoung then told Heejin to grab the girl some water as she firmly held Hyunjin in place, not wanting to make the girl any dizzier in her already rattled state.

"Hyunjin, you need to breathe."

"I am! But please, call Jinsoul-unnie. Call her right now, this is—they're in danger! Unnie—just listen to me!" Sooyoung's eyes scanned the pleading girl's teary eyes, failing to find a hint of any uncertainty and so once Heejin had returned to the room, Sooyoung quickly instructed the girl to watch over her best friend before leaving the room and taking her phone out to dial Jinsol's number.

"Sol."

"Are you in the school right now?" Jinsol furrowed her brows at the question, pulling her phone away from her ear to stare at the caller ID that had clearly shown the number '9' before she pressed it back against her ear, looking down at the sandwich in hand and then the fast food place that had almost felt as if it was inviting her to buy more. Jinsol couldn't help but shake her head at the thought before sighing to herself, pulling the door open to let herself inside the car and shut the door behind her.

"No? It's my break time."

"Jinsoul—do you even know what the time is!?" the dark haired girl winced at Sooyoung's bitter tone as she started the engine and pairing her phone to the speakers, carelessly tossing it onto the empty passenger seat next to her before leaning back and unwrapping her meal.

"Isn’t it Y/N's third period? She's literally right across the hall from Gowon. She has it covered."

"That was over an hour ago! She's in the middle of fourth period right now!" Jinsol stared down at her meal for a moment before glancing at the clock on the dashboard that clearly said 11:12 instead of what she'd seen as 9:26 a few moments ago. The girl was slightly alarmed for a moment, only to remember that it basically meant you were in the middle of class—surrounded by civilians.

They wouldn’t pick a fight with you there.. Right?

Jinsol quickly wrapped her sandwich before chucking it next to her phone and preparing to exit the driveway when Sooyoung told her that she was also on her way before she dropped the call.

Back in the school, Son Hyejoo was currently thinking about how she completely despised her Math teacher. Not only did the old lady had told her to stand in the back of the class when she asked Yerim if they had the same answers, but she also hated the woman for not letting her slide—not even once—about leaving her book behind when it was time for her class. Hyejoo could only walk down the halls of Blockberry High and make her way over to the lot, in hopes that her book was there—even if she didn't even do the damned assignment—just so she could continue sitting next to Yerim and watch the girl effortlessly solve the given problems, because watching the girl’s eyes light up was more entertaining than standing outside the hall until the class was dismissed.

The book had apparently manage to slide itself under her seat, most likely slipping out of her backpack that had always sat next to Yerim in the backseat—and though Hyejoo wouldn't call herself associated to any religion of some sort, she silently thanked whoever was watching her from up above as she shut the door of her car and started to make her way back to class.

And that's where she heard your voice.

“What do you want!?” you hissed harshly which made Hyejoo quickly duck against one of the cars closest to her, eyes setting on your fuming expression standing by the bench next to the vending machine as a tall figure wearing all black seemed to have took a slight step back, making him release your wrist that he had seemed to be holding as you clutched your arm to your chest, glaring at him. The man tilted his head to himself before looking back at you with an equally confused expression.

“What do.. I want?” he repeated slowly, furrowing his brows to himself as you stood there—not exactly knowing whether you should run or even attempt at a swing at the taller man—but you stood your ground, wanting to make sure he was gone before any of your members had caught up to what was happening and have the man even dare bring harm to any of them.

“I want power, of course. Enough for me and my members—and to command over fifty-thousand people..?”

“You’re stupid if you think killing a boss would mean you get to take over their Family.” you hissed as he looked at you like a kicked puppy, making him glance down—at what seemed to be a ring in his little finger that even Hyejoo can see from her hiding spot—before his expression snapped yet again to glare at you.

“You don’t know that! God, you all sound the same. You, Chan—I was the one that convinced them to let us go independent! Look where we are now!” his aggravated voice boomed through the lot, making you tense on your spot and take a cautious step back. Your eyes scanning the area for your members, finding Jungeun and Hyejoo’s cars that sat parked a few feet ahead of you which brought you an odd sense of comfort.

But it soon dissipated once it dawned into you that the owners were nowhere to be found.

One of them actually were, however.

“Alright then, I’ll take the lead.” your heart dropped the second your eyes followed the man's hand that had pulled a simple black pistol from behind him, his lips downturned as he popped the magazine to check if he had any bullets—giving you enough time to start running for your life—but instead, you stood there glued to your spot as he rolled his shoulders, smiling brightly at you and letting the nozzle rest in the middle of your temple.

“Now, be a good girl and take me to your members—” a blur of dark hair suddenly appeared from behind the unnamed man, the gun that was held against your forehead was quickly released into the air as the towering man flipped in his spot—falling head first onto the concrete behind him and was completely knocked unconscious before the gun slid a few feet away from him, with your eyes moving to settle on a familiar figure in front of you, eyes locked on the unconscious man with her hand gently holding onto your forearm as you stood there in shock.

"Hyejoo..? When did you..?" you barely even locked eyes with the younger girl when she was suddenly tackled onto the ground, the impact staggering you back in the process until you fell on your behind, watching the battle happening in front of you as you sat frozen in your spot. The supposed-to-be unconscious man had seemed to be aiming to grab ahold of Hyejoo by the neck, using his weight to keep the girl on the ground while his hands were being resisted by your member as she writhed under him. Your eyes quickly scanned for anything to help your member with—anything to knock the large figure that could’ve already ended the shorter girl under him if she weren’t trained—but as you did, your eyes kept flitting over to the pistol that had slipped from the man’s hold from earlier, your ears practically blocked out as the only thing you could clearly hear was the thudding of your heart in your chest.

"No! Y/N—look for Gowon-unnie! Gowon!" Hyejoo cried from her spot—as if the older girl was supposed to just appear out of nowhere once she called—when the man's fist had aggressively pulled back to swing itself onto the girl, aiming to hit her on the face but she managed to move her head the second it was supposed to land. His blood trickled down from his knuckles for them to meet Hyejoo’s cheek as she let out a piercing screech before starting to swing right back at him—landing a few solid strikes straight onto his dumbfounded state. You felt your heart falter at the possibility that the impact of his fist could've landed on the younger girl, making something inside of you snap and clambered to grab the pistol from the ground and stagger closer them, your hands shaking as you point pointed the weapon directly at the assailant with both hands supporting the weapon.

"Let go of her, or I swear—I will shoot." he stopped to look up at you from his position, the punches that Hyejoo had seemed to land on his face was evident at his busted brow and bloodied teeth as smiled ridiculously at you. Hyejoo had attempted another swing just as you had distracted him but he caught her fist without even looking down at her, continuing to maintain eye-contact with you in his bloodied state as he slowly started to laugh at the sight of you standing before him—hands shaking as you aimed his own weapon against him.

"You couldn't even move when I pointed a gun at you earlier—and you're telling me you'll shoot me? Go ahead, child, shoot me!” you swallowed thickly, clenching your jaw to will yourself into keeping the gun aimed at him but you couldn’t seem to ignore the sound of Hyejoo’s aggrieved grunts as she tried to get her hands out of his grip and the sight of her continued attempts at wriggling out of his weight.

“Hyejoo, I’ll get you out of there—”

“Shoot me or I swear—she’ll be unrecognizable by the time I’m done!” the last thing that had crossed your mind before you pulled the trigger was the members in your living room, the image of Sooyoung the first time she had told you that you could trust the members with your life—even though you’ve just met them. You could barely even feel the coldness of the weapon in your hands when several flashes of the members’ reassuring smiles directed to your clueless state when a bloodcurdling scream pierced through your senses, your eyes snapping over to the man you had managed to shoot just between his shoulder and his arm who had scrambled off of your member—panic setting in his features as he continuously muttered “no, no—I can’t die like this!” as he pressed a hand in his wound, shaken up by the sight of his own blood pooling across the sidewalk as he slowly seemed to be losing his consciousness in his spot.

"..Hey." your eyes snapped to the sight of a your bloodied member, the young girl eyeing you careful as you felt slight tug on the weapon you seemed to have kept in a tight grip. You let Hyejoo slip the weapon off your hands before watching the girl walk over to the frightened man—who raised a hand to beg for mercy—when the younger girl held the gun by the barrel to deliver a final blow through his insensible state, supposedly leaving him unconscious but it didn’t seem to be enough as he caught himself before he could fall on his front. Hyejoo then delivered a swift kick to his head that was surely enough knock him out for good just as a familiar blue car had just pulled over by the entrance of the school, the familiar figure of another one of your dark haired members quickly rushing over to the both of you with wide eyes as the pool of blood slowly spreading across the pavement.

"You're both.. Okay." Jinsol breathed in relief, a concerned expression on her face as Hyejoo wiped the drying blood stains on her cheek before turning to you and placing a hand on your forearm—cutting you out of your dazed state to look back at Jinsol’s uneasy gaze. You barely could move your head to nod in response but it seemed that the older girl got the idea, to which she just turned to face the unconscious man and reached over to grab his bloodstained hand— staring down at the ring in his finger with a indecipherable expression on her features before to whispering something under her breath just as several rushed footsteps made their way towards your group. You felt a hand pull you back and a figure quickly blocked you from the body in front of you, the blonde hair was enough for you to recognize that it was Jungeun as Jiwoo had seemed to have followed closely behind, turning to look at Hyejoo who wasn’t even looking at the the members—eyes directly trained on your still figure.

"Who did this!? Was it him!? Give me the gun Son Hyejoo!"

"No, Unnie—we're fine." the older girl moved to reach for Hyejoo’s face before deciding against it and pulling you in a tight embrace instead, the older girl cradling you at your motionless state. Chaewon, Yerim, and Yeojin had soon followed behind—the eldest of the three quickly grabbing ahold of Hyejoo by the shoulders to scan her for any injuries as the younger girl stood there with a pensive look on her face as she continued to stare at you.

"I don't understand—Hyejoo wasn't supposed to be here, if Hyejoo wasn't here.." Chaewon started, a gentle hand remained on Hyejoo's forearm before she turned to look at you with panic slowly settling in her features when Yerim gasped at the image that was set in front of you, her eyes moving to the gun that Hyejoo continued to hold by the barrel and piecing it together. She felt a slight tug on her shirt before turning to a guilt-ridden expression that had been on the youngest member’s state as she looked over to the vacant look that had set on your face as Jiwoo continued to hold you in her arms and tell you that you were alright.

"All of you, get yourselves back in Eden. Yves and I will get him medical attention when she gets here." Jinsol ordered from her spot, eyes moving to scan you and your members just as a familiar burgundy red sports car parked right next to Jinsol's at the front of the building. Sooyoung didn’t even shut her door before she had rushed over to where you stood in Jiwoo’s arms, the red-haired girl quickly taking you into her own as Jiwoo spotted her figure nearing the two of you. The older girl didn’t hesitate in reaching over and pulling Hyejoo in her other arm as well, just when her eyes started to tear up to which the younger girl couldn't help but groan at—slipping out of the older girl’s hold as you continued to be locked in Sooyoung's grip just as she had started to bawl her eyes out.

"Yves, he's bleeding out—we need to go."

"We'll be at Eden, Unnie. We'll be safe there! Please stop crying.." Jiwoo said from behind you, trying to console the older girl as she continued to stain your shoulder with her tears. Your arms gently reached over to pat the girl's back, your eyes finally willing themselves to take in your surroundings again as you watched Hyejoo and Chaewon walk over to Jinsol briefly—speaking to the woman whom had now held a hand against her forehead—before they nodding and making their way over to Hyejoo's car with Yerim and Yeojin. The two who you had just realized had been there the entire time held a disturbed expression in both of their faces, Yeojin looked just about as ready to leave with Hyejoo and the others.

They've most likely never experienced combat in a real setting before, just like you.

"Yeah, yeah—just give me a second," Sooyoung breathed deeply before pulling herself together, sniffling as her hands rested firmly on your shoulders—with you eyeing the distraught girl that looked as if she was going through an inner turmoil about the situation—making you reach over to fix her hair and give her what you could have only hoped was a small smile through your emotionless state, with a reassuring hand placed on her arm in front of you, "we'll settle this, so don't worry about it. Alright, Y/N?" you nodded in reply, not finding it in you to speak at all.

Sooyoung pulled away from you to face Jinsol, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand and wiping the tears in attempt to stop the continuous flow down her cheeks, completely turned away from you just as you felt a hand interlace with you—finding the usual bright smile wiped clean from Jiwoo's face, only to be replaced with a careful look as if sensing your delicate state. Your two older members lead you to Jungeun's car, with Jiwoo slipping herself with you in the backseat to just take you in her arms as Jungeun pulled out of the lot—with your eyes stuck on the image of Sooyoung and Jinsol quickly lifting the man by his arms to bring him to Jinsol's car just before they disappeared from your view.

You could barely feel a thing since the man had caught you by surprise, the image of his menacing smile stuck on a loop in your head as he pressed the nozzle against your forehead—the sound of the air being knocked out of Hyejoo's lungs when he tackled her down, the shot ringing through the lot just before Hyejoo pulled the gun away from you. Something has shifted just from the bloodied encounter, something you had somehow knew that you were going to stumble upon since you’ve joined the group—but you didn’t expect it to be so soon, for the situation to put you in such a spot that you could barely process fast enough what was happening in front of you. You didn’t know what came onto you, what made you even dare point a gun at a man just when he threatened a person you barely even knew.

But you’ve seen it, the way the members would lay their own lives in your stead—even Hyejoo whom you’ve never really exchanged a word with—something inside of you just clicked, a subconscious promise to offer your own life in also protecting theirs just as they would do to you.

For now, you’re free to feel the heavy burden of your shattered morals.

For now, you’re allowed to grieve the loss of justified actions and put the safety of your members above all else.

For now, you mourn the death of Ha Y/N and fully embrace who you truly were.

Y/N Y/L/N, The Heiress.

Hi,

Any Carats following along with this series? I was a Carat way back in 2018 and I was juggling between Seventeen and Blackpink at the time. Actually searching up the members’ names was trippy because it’s just something you’d think that would stick with you for years. I think I liked them just when Oh My just came out—I’m sure that they’re my first big member group.

Wonwoo was my bias but before I left my boy-group agenda, I’ve been into DK. I’m proud of where they are now, and I’m honestly contemplating going back but I’m just so into LOONA that I don’t know how I’ll cope if I even miss a single release from them—even news from some TV program Chuu gets invited to lmao (we love a booked and busy queen though).

Anyways, where are the other members of the Lee Family? And how exactly will this play out with this crazed lunatic that tackled Hyejoo once he gets sent back to the Mansion? I have a few ideas already in mind~ And if I finish Act I before this month finishes.. Then what?

It’s getting crazier and crazier~

Oh, and Hyunhye FOTM today—I was writing this so I completely missed it but I read from orrery-nim for translations anyways, but I feel more pumped to write after that, oh boy..

This update was meant for tomorrow, but since Hyunjin breathed today I'll keep writing lmao the grip~

Laters,

JJ.

>ovc: V COOKIE (200213)

https://www.vlive.tv/post/1-18290715

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Double Heart | Chapter One ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: G

Word count: 2100

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour-rainycity” if you like!**

A/n Thanks for the love on the prologue <3 also, this is the first time I’ve scheduled a post, so please let me know if something looks weird!

Translations: Av-‘osto = Don’t be afraid // Odúlen le natho = I’m here to help you // Pedil edhellen = do you speak Elvish

I was right — the peace deserts me instantly.

A sharp pain pierces my chest, my lungs ache, and my brain throbs inside my skull. A man leans over me. His long, dark hair tickles my neck. He is beautiful and smiling, but I do not know him. Fear quickens my breath. I try to jerk away from him, but he keeps a firm pressure on my shoulders, holding me in place. He meets my wide, panicked eyes with calm, reassuring ones of forest brown.

“Av-‘osto. Odúlen le natho.”

What? I shake my head at him, fear temporarily making room for confusion. The words he speaks, which had proven so irresistible when I was under the weight of the water, now sound only strange and indecipherable.

I stare at him, uncomprehending and very much on my guard.

His brow furrows, and, when he speaks again, it is with a note of hesitation. “Pedil edhellen?”

“I don’t think she does.” Another voice—confident, commanding—comes from my right. I turn my head just in time to see a tall man in peculiar armor slide off his horse. He takes quick strides towards me, then crouches near my side. “What is your name?”

I find myself momentarily silenced by his proximity, as well as his eyes. They are a clear ice blue—beautiful, depthless—but cold and calculating. They hold none of the warmth the other man’s eyes do, only suspicion. As much as I don’t like behind held to the ground by him, I turn my head, searching for the deep, honest brown I met upon awaking.

He meets my gaze with a soft smile. “Do not feel fear, we are not here to harm you. We found you unconscious and alone near the river, and stopped to help.” His voice is light, unsure, and strangely accented, placing emphasis on the wrong part of the words, but I am pleased that I can understand him now. As if to illustrate his point, that I am not in danger from them, he releases his hold on my shoulders and allows me space to sit up.

“Slowly,” he cautions. “I worry you have hit your head.”

That would explain the pounding. I grimace, supporting myself on my forearms, and turn my head to observe my surroundings. It’s all very green and brown, I suppose, though vibrant, not at all like the waters I found myself trapped under. Tall grass, puddles of mud, a river behind me. I see no roads or signs to indicate where I am.

The man to my right answers my unspoken question. “You are near the Gladden Fields on the bank of the River Anduin.” I recoil. None of those words mean anything to me. I search my mind, trying to conjure up an image, a memory, anything that would give me context as to where I am.

But I come up blank.

“I will ask you again,” the man continues. His voice is hard, completely devoid of patience, and though I don’t exactly want to, I find myself turning my head to look him in the eye. “What is your name?”

Well, that answer, I know. “Cosima. What’s yours?” I raise an eyebrow, unable to stop myself from challenging him a little. I don’t like his attitude, how he acts like he doesn’t have the time to deal with me. He is the one who stopped, after all.

“So she does speak,” an amused voice remarks from over the shoulder of the brown-eyed man. I jump, not previously noticing the two others—blond like the man to my right—who sit high atop large horses.

Okay, that doesn’t seem right.

Fragments of memory come to me, brief flashes of tall buildings, busy sidewalks, and honking yellow cars.

America.

The name comes to me just as my own did—suddenly and detached from other clues. I piece together what I can, and am left with only the feeling that this is wrong. There should not be deserted, untouched land, nor men in armor who travel on horseback.

I should not be here, I realize. Wherever ‘here’ is….

The blond to my right stands, and I shrink back, intimidated by his height. The sword at his hip and the bow on his back make me even more wary.

“I am Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlórien. The ellon to your left is Baranor, a healer respected by the Lady herself. The ellyn on horseback are Rumil and Orophin—my brothers, and wardens of our realm. Where do you come from? Were you traveling somewhere?”

I don’t recognize half the words he says. Their language and phrasing is unfamiliar to me, which gives me reason to believe that I am not in America. My limited worldview expands slightly, and I become aware of the existence of other countries, vast seas and expansive continents. A theory begins to take form. I must be in another country. Perhaps I was traveling, and hit my head, and now I’ve gotten separated from my group. Though, I don’t have any memory of a group…perhaps I will remember them in time. I did hit my head.

Haldir clears his throat impatiently.

“I…think I’m from America. Do you know if I’m close? Or at least which country I’m in?

For the first time, I see the irritation in his eyes break, giving way to something akin to concern. “You are in Arda.”

I wrack my brain, searching for anything that even remotely sounds like Arda. Africa? Armenia? Nothing helpful comes to mind.

Baranor, still crouched at my side, brings a gentle hand to my temple, brushing his fingers lightly over the tender skin. He notices my wince, and turns back to Haldir. “She definitely hit her head. Her mind is not fully with us…I think that, as she heals, she will speak with more sense.”

“Excuse me,” I huff, annoyed at his assessment of me and them talking as if I weren’t here. “You’re not exactly making much sense, either.”

Haldir purses his lips but gives no other indication that he’s heard me. He turns to his brothers and the three of them engage in quick conversation in that language I do not know.

I keep the three of them in the corner of my eye—just because they haven’t hurt me yet doesn’t mean I should let my guard down—and catch Baranor’s attention. “I can’t remember much—anything, really.”

He nods, looking at me with clinical concern. “I guessed as much. You remember your name and seem to have some idea where you are from, even if I do not recognize the realm. It’s better than nothing—encouraging, even. I believe your memories will return to you with time.”

That’s something, at least.

The one called Rumil hops off his horse and swaggers up to me, crouching low like his brother did. “Are you human?”

I recoil. What kind of question is that? “Of course I’m human.”

He shakes his head, a coy smile on his face. “Do not say, ‘of course’. There are many races in this realm, some much more interesting than the race of men.”

I swallow, pieces of information that I’ve gathered since waking clicking into place.

I don’t want to ask.

Asking might mean confronting, and I’ve only just woken up. I’m not ready for that.

But I have to. Because I’ve woken up in an unfamiliar place with people who don’t speak my language, don’t seem to know anything about the existence of my country, travel on horses, wear armor and, Rumil has just tilted his head to the side, revealing an ear that comes to a point. I bring my hand up to my own ear, checking. Yep. Not pointed.

A sinking feeling settles in my gut. I gather what courage I can. Just ask. There’s probably a perfectly normal explanation. Maybe they’re playing a trick on me. “Are you…not human, then?”

His teasing smile never falters and he gives a sort of mocking bow. “No, my dear lady. You have the pleasure of encountering four of the eldar. We are elves from the realm of the Lady Galadriel. We have been here long before the time of man, and we will be here long after.”

This is ridiculous.

I push myself to stand, Baranor rushing to help. The world sways before me, and I wilt against the cool surface of his chest place. He holds me awkwardly—trying to keep as much distance between us as possible while still supporting my weight.

“I’ve hit my head,” I mutter, trying to fight through the fierce onset of dizziness and nausea. “I-I’ve been in some sort of accident, or had a strange reaction to medicine. Or maybe this is a bizarre dream, and I will wake up and laugh at myself and all this will have been in my imagination, or…or…” My breathing quickens, and I bring a hand to my forehead. My hand is so cold. Is it meant to be that cold?

I pitch forward, and Rumil darts a hand to grip my shoulder and keep me in place. His teasing smile disappears, and he turns to Haldir, looking alarmed. He calls out in that unknown language, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, though the motion makes me feel worse.

“Come on, you’re in my dream, so you can at least speak a language I understand!”

Baranor twists to study my face, his frown deepening. He joins the indecipherable conversation.

“Not you, too,” I whine, glaring accusingly at him. Stupidly, I had already come to see him as a sort of ally. All four of them ignore me which is quite rude, considering they’re obviously talking about me. Their discussion grows heated—they’re arguing.

Dark spots dance in my line of vision and I groan, wanting to lie down. Baranor tightens his grip around me, and his voice rises in volume. Does he have to be so loud?

Haldir barks out something that sounds very much like an order, and I focus long enough to see him mount his horse. Rumil releases my shoulder, sparing me the quickest of looks before returning to his own steed. Before I can process what’s happening, Baranor uses his grip on me to guide me towards the tall chestnut stallion.

I guess his intent.

“No!” I begin to fight against his hold. “I don’t want—”

“Hush now, it will be alright,” he soothes, his hands tightening on me as I try to get away. “We do not know of the realm you speak, but we are on a journey to a trusted friend—a wise friend—who may be able to help you. We will take you with us.”

I go stiff in his arms, weighing my options.

I have no reason to trust his word. But they haven’t hurt me yet, and the fact remains that I have no idea where I am. I probably wouldn’t fare any better on the riverbank. I don’t have food, or supplies, or a map. And traveling with them would allow me to see more of the landscape. Maybe we’ll pass a city, and I can sneak away. And from there…

Well, that’s a problem for later.

So, resigned to my situation for the time being, I nod. Baranor gives me a look of relief—I imagine he has no desire to lift a kicking woman onto a horse—and releases my shoulders to kneel and lock his hands together. I don’t particularly like heights, and this animal is much too tall for my liking, but everything about this day has been absolutely insane. I may as well get on the unpredictable beast. Baranor pushes on my foot as I pull on the horses’s mane. A second later, I’m sat firmly on the animal, Baranor in front of me. I look down to see how high up I am—a clear mistake, especially given the dizziness that hasn’t quite receded—and immediately wrap my arms around Baranor’s stomach. It’s difficult, given the armor he wears, but I manage, seeing as it gives me extra insurance that I won’t go tumbling to the ground.

“Get my attention if you feel faint,” he murmurs, taking the reins in his hands. “There is a canteen of water near your right foot if you get thirsty.”

And, before I can contemplate if I have the core strength to reach for the water and stay on the horse, we’re off, racing along the riverbank and leaving behind any chance I have of turning back.

A/n Thanks for reading! As always, comments, likes, and reblogs are so appreciated. Let me know if you would like a tag! See you on Thursday with Chapter Two :)

|next part - to be posted|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw

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