#would the assumption then become it wasn’t just bad placement | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quietrainfan · 3 years ago

Text

Hey! Anyone want some heavy platonic Loceit angsty headcanons I've extracted from the new episode? Well, too bad because it's happening regardless. :)

Yes, also some Unsympathetic Patton. You know what blog you're on. (This interpretation/headcanon shall not die. Not here.)

(Also, this is going to combine my observations and thoughts as well, so sorry in advance if this post turns out as a bit of a mess.)

Alright, so! Orange Side confirmation. How we feelin', Sanders Sides fandom, how we feelin'?

Honestly, the Orange Side theory wasn't something I was really all that into. It was a 'meh, could be cool' headcanon for me personally. But I have to say the way the reveal was handled made me jump in my seat with pure joy. No joke, I audibly gasped when Logan's eyes flashed orange.

It was all downhill from there, I was excited. Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm a sucker for character's eyes glowing when they've reached their limit or are displaying a power they've never shown before, combine that with an unexpected reveal and I'm sold.

Plus, glowing eyes have been a common theme with Unsympathetic content and Dark Side headcanons so you could imagine how the first peak into the Orange Side's existence (or, rather confirmation. we all saw the 'hello' hint, Orange, you cheeky little munchkin.) was his color in Logan's eyes made me feel. It was so cool!!! Ah!

Then Thomas had to tease us again at the end card with our boy Orange's eyes popping up in the darkness, waiting for his chance to be too loud to ignore. Like, the audacity. Who do you think you are, Thomas?! (That was a joke. Sorry, I'm just really pumped.)

Also, Remus got quite a few laughs out of me. Ah, I missed him.

Okay, headcanon time! We're going to do Logan first, then Janus, then combine the two. Sound good? Alright, here we go (Trigger Warning for discussions of alcoholism, please if anything I write here sounds insensitive or inaccurate, let me know and I will edit. Also, no need to read if you don't want to. Stay safe.) :

Logan

Logan knew where to grab for that alcohol bottle.

I mean, I guess that makes sense since he lives there and is naturally the most observant Side. But...that bottle's placement was a little too convenient.

Sure it was played up as a joke and it was funny.

But something about the way Logan threw his coffee into the sink and quickly replaced it with the wine stuck out to me.

I've joked about Logan and/or Janus having to "drink to cope" due to sharing the single brain cell Thomas has amongst all the chaos. But seeing that in an actual episode, even as a gag, is kind of...different.

Let me explain.

This may be a common thing for Logan that he struggles with.

He wakes up early to be the first one to help Thomas start the day, naturally. Logan goes to make his cup of coffee and there's always the lingering urge to take a sip of wine before anyone can see because he just...can't face everyone without needing just a little bit of it to cloud out all the gross, petty, negative feelings he experiences every day around them.

He's logic. He can't be drinking and risk any more harm to Thomas's function.

So, it's a constant battle with coffee vs wine, coffee vs wine, coffee vs wine-

Most of the time Logan is able to resist and go with the coffee.

It doesn't make him feel good in the slightest. If anything it makes him feel even worse knowing he'll be more alert that day.

Logan hates that was even a thought at all. He needs to be alert. Otherwise everything will fall apart. He is the rock in the system and without him everything will crumble.

Such a selfish mindset. He needed to focus.

Other days Logan just doesn't have it in him to discard the wine regardless of how much he wants to.

He knows what the day holds for him. It was all so repetitive at this point. Logan knew when he wasn't able to get through it despite it all.

That didn't stop him from shaming himself for caving. He should be able to handle this. He's made so much progress with resisting it up to this point but today he through it away again because he just had to, right?

Sometimes Logan finds himself "cheating" by hiding a couple drops of wine into his coffee on days when he chose the coffee but later felt particularly bad about...a lot of things, into his second cup.

Logan more often times chooses neither. The temptation for clouding out the others was just too strong and was a waste of time.

Logan is beyond tired of the others.

Every single action they have agitates him now. No matter how minor it is.

Roman's loud voice and constant references makes Logan's toes unconsciously curl beneath his shoes. Even a silent warm smile and wave from the prince fills Logan with an unpleasant tingle in his knuckles.

Virgil's neverending foreboding and unnecessary nasty remarks that he doesn't even bother to filter provokes Logan's new habit of biting his tongue. Any kindness he ever gives him makes his stomach twist.

Patton's nicknames, poking for for a laugh, his "sweet" way of shoving away any objection he may have, how casually he behaves as if he isn't part of any problems- how quickly he's prepared to "bounce back". Logan feels like every word, action from him something steps on a guitar cord in the back of his mind that makes the ugliest, loud, screeching sound. He feels this strange warm fuzzy ache he can't define. All he hears is that cord playing faster and faster the longer he stays in their presence. Logan no longer trusts himself alone with Patton.

Logan thinks if he just separates from the others long enough, the ugly strumming noise will go away.

But he's so wrong.

Logan can hear it even when he's all alone. When it's finally silent, he still can't get rid of it.

It's loudest when Logan is alone in his room. Logan has lost count of how many nights he's spent clenching his head, quietly sobbing, and praying for it to just go away already.

Logan often feels like he's losing it.

On nights where the sounds are particularly louder than usual, he swears he can see orange shadows creeping around him, lights of the color flashing on and off, he sometimes even sees it seeping in and out of the cracks of his door like a thick fog. At times he'll even wake to it glowing absurdly bright through his window.

It's just the sunrise. Logan tells himself. He has to believe that. Everything else looked normal, after all.

What's worse is Logan doesn't know how long he's been hearing this sound or seeing the strange lights.

Patton knows about Logan's late night and early morning struggles.

But surprise, surprise, he pretends as if he's nonthewiser.

If either Virgil or Roman asks about Logan, Patton will answer: "Oh, that silly billy's probably got his head in one of his astronomy books again! I wouldn't bother him right now."

Knowing full well he's having an emotional breakdown in his room that gets worse every day.

Knowing about the little sneaks of alcohol in his hot morning beverage. Might even speak about yummy drink combinations when they hang out in the living room, while Logan is present, specifically and even only on the days Patton knows he's cheating with his bad habit, while he's still drinking it.

The further Logan is to the edge, the better. Patton is still bitter about the events of Redux ending in his favor, after all. He needs leverage from somewhere.

When Thomas left to see Nico, Logan heard the cord again. His chest tightened and though he could feel the tears welling up, he kept them down.

Thomas hasn't been very happy lately. He had to let him have this.

No matter how loud those cords get.

Janus

I noticed that Janus was either unseen by the others or unacknowledged by them.

Janus was near all of them but far enough that he was separated.

He could've just popped up at the end without them noticing but...that's less angsty therefore less fun so-

Janus has been the instigator for bringing Sides that have been hidden away to be brought to light for a long time. If the assumption that Janus let Remus out is true.

He's always been hinting at upcoming events that are sure to come if Thomas continues to ignore certain aspects of himself.

He knows. He knows our Orange boy is getting worse and soon will be too loud to ignore. Janus wants to protect Thomas but that's becoming harder every day. Thomas is making it harder.

Janus will reveal the Orange Side eventually. And very soon. Hell, that's looking like less and less of a choice considering Logan's...outburst.

I think Janus has this painful awareness that he can be seriously hated for doing his job. After all, he's always the one who's forced them to acknowledge uncomfortable truths about Thomas.

He's the one giving them all of those hard pills to swallow and especially after Remus, it is definitely overwhelming and exhausting to be met with.

They question their roles more and more because of how used they are to the fixed mindset Thomas has had for such a long time.

That can't feel good.

Janus knows that his job may cause more hatred to fester the more that's revealed.

Janus is being kept at arms length and he knows that won't stop any time soon.

But he's a clever snake. That won't keep him from keeping an eye on Patton.

(Find it real suspicious that Patton was all mushy with Janus in that end card but still is at a big distance from him.)

Loceit

Janus will sometimes find Logan in the common room with his head in his arms, sprawled out against the coffee table. His glasses being discarded from half his face, unmistakable tears lazily dripping out of his lifeless eyes.

Janus would wordlessly go to the sink and grab a glass, filling it with water.

Janus goes over to Logan, giving him a gentle rub on the back. He urges him to sit up. It takes Logan a few minutes but eventually does.

Janus hands Logan the water, supporting the back of his neck as struggles to get it down, reminding him to take his time.

Janus takes his glasses and gently sets them on the table. He hands Logan some tissues.

Logan lifelessly takes them and tries to clean his face. But he always ends up crying into them.

Janus moves Logan unkempt bangs from his face before moving his head to his shoulder. Janus manifests a warm blanket over Logan and uses a bit of his abilities to soothe the shorter man's pain, tenderly putting pressure on his neck.

Janus and Logan have a talk. Logan always asks why he bothers to stop and comfort him.

"You've helped me through a lot, Logan. Not returning the favor is out of the question."

That was always his answer.

Janus and Logan do this often.

Janus opens up about sometimes needing a bit of a drink himself from time to time. Though mostly that consists of tea more often than not, he sometimes has a glass of wine or two to relax on days when it's particularly hard.

He feels ashamed of it. Janus has to be the strongest out of everyone, especially the Dark Sides. Allowing things to faze him was the worst case scenario. At least, to that degree.

But Janus understands that isn't his fault and urges Logan not to blame himself, either. While he hated that weakness he occasionally submitted to, he wasn't going to let the rare slip up to define the worth of his role.

Logan thinks that Janus really is the strongest out of all of them just for saying things like that and he's being too hard on himself.

On nights when things become too much Janus will sit with Logan and share a drink. They try to have as many conversations without wine as possible but sometimes Janus says "screw it" and sits with Logan with one or two drinks.

Just having Janus there helps Logan choose his coffee in the mornings and feel as if he's being heard even a little bit.

Now if only those cords could actually quiet down, that'd be even better.

96 notes · View notes

katytheinspiredworkaholic · 4 years ago

Text

Deleted Scenes: A Character Study (Part 1)

Longer title -- “Deleted Scenes: if the Criminal Minds writers had any idea how to incorporate dramatic back story into a working narrative, A Character Study”

Every once in a while I get impassioned about something that happens in the show, or more importantly that doesn’t happen in the show -- but should have. This will probably be one of at least a handful, but for now, enjoy the pinnacle of my rage. Fueled by all the OPENINGS for Hotch to talk about his past and the writers taking advantage of NONE OF THEM, but this was my breaking point.

Rating: General

Warnings: mentions of past child abuse

Pairing: none

Characters: Hotch, JJ

Episode, and placement: Season 10, Episode 05, “Boxed In”; after the episode

Word count: 2,404

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796501/chapters/73302726

A Prime Example

Very few things get to Aaron Hotchner. Especially things that are said with no relatable context to him or the details people don’t know about his life. His past, in particular. He pushes them back in compartmentalized little boxes, carefully labeled and sorted and set aside to be unpacked at a later date. They aren’t important when he’s on a case. When a twelve-year-old boy is missing and his life hangs in the balance. When time is of the essence.

Which is why, on numerous occasions, he lets the things people say slide.

Especially on the topic of Nature versus Nurture.

He, himself, has written a handful of papers and reports on the very argument. There’s no doubt that Nature and Nurture have complicated roles in why ‘bad people do bad things’, in layman's terms. But the stigma surrounding it, cutting it into a black and white, all or nothing scenario will always rub him the wrong way. Not because he believes in it, one way or the other, but because he lives it. Day after day.

It’s not his team’s fault that they don’t know that. Hotch keeps those parts of his life to himself. Lessons only he has learned, and has grown from, and keeps as careful guidelines.

Until this case.

“I guess we all become our parents at some point.”

The way JJ had said this -- steady, with no hesitation, despite the choice in phrasing indicating it could be a right or wrong assumption -- gave the statement an air of inevitability. Creating a precedent in her mind that set Hotch's teeth on edge, though it had not been the appropriate moment to correct her on it. But it's not the first time JJ has said something along those lines.

“Does the son of a sociopath even really have a chance?”

Not a lot gets to Aaron Hotchner. Every other remark, observation, detail of an unsub’s correlation between their upbringing and their crimes he doesn’t let sting his exposition. It has never affected him before, and he vowed it never will. His father doesn’t get to take that away from him, too.

But the inevitability of her statement, indicating it was only a matter of time. No matter what he has done with his life or the person he has worked so hard to become and imbody, ultimately it wouldn’t matter in the end. That one day, Aaron Hotchner would be just like his father. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself, if that were to happen.

That single, throw-away sentence, with a pedestrian phrasing he has heard over and over again, gets to Hotch. It buries itself in him like a tick and refuses to let go, not for tweezers or fire or smothering indifference. It is still there, echoing in his head as if shouted down a long tunnel, even after they get back to Quantico and are finishing up the closing paperwork later that week. He finds himself barely able to glance at JJ for longer than a moment without hearing her words once more, and Hotch berates himself for it. Over and over again. This is why he shuts it all down and doesn’t talk about it. This is why he keeps it buried, where it will never resurface. It interferes with the present, with his work and his friendships and his relationship with his son.

His past needs to stay dead and buried in a plot in rural Virginia, where it belongs.

“I have those reports for you, Hotch,” JJ says, as if procured by his musings. He glances up for the briefest of moments, barely a blink, to acknowledge her and nod in thanks as she leaves the folders on his desk. Then he’s turning back to the SWAT team justification reports and expects that to be the last of it. Drowning himself in his work, where everything is strict codes and formal speech patterns and no emotional influence whatsoever.

Which is why he is surprised to hear JJ address him, again. Never having left his office.

“Sir?” The formal term catches his attention even more. “Is everything alright? Did something happen after you missed Halloween night?”

“What?” The question genuinely throws him off, though it doesn’t show on his face. He had missed Halloween, the first time he had ever done so, but Jack understood. He was always much more accepting of the parameters of Hotch’s job than Haley ever was. It was all he’s ever known. “Oh, no -- Jack had a fun night. Slept on the couch so I could see him in his costume when he got home. How was Henry’s night?”

“He and Will had a great time,” JJ answers, her careful, worried expression not waning in the face of Hotch’s slightly more upbeat tone. It’s something he slips into subconsciously when speaking about Jack, or to Jack, or anywhere Jack might hear. Compartmentalization. “I just… noticed you seem off.”

Hotch nods once, in acknowledgement, because he knows he has. He’s working on it. There was no need for an intervention like this. He’s the Team Leader and Unit Chief, he wasn’t the one people were supposed to be checking on.

“Delayed reaction to the case,” he answers, looking back to the SWAT team report and signing off on another section for mobilization after hours. Overtime justifications. Bureaucracy needs the ‘i’s dotted and ‘t’s crossed. “Nothing to worry about.”

JJ takes pause, and still doesn’t make for the door of his office. Like she needs to elaborate somehow, now that Hotch has left a small crack of an opening into his inner sanctum.

“I know we all have cases that hit us too close to home,” she concedes, the start of a much longer speech. “Young boys, even the troublemakers --”

“No, JJ, I appreciate the concern,” Hotch interrupts, and does his best to appease her by keeping the hardness off his face. “But it’s nothing to do with Jack or facts we found. It’s a personal matter.”

“Of course, it’s just --”

Years ago, that would have been that and JJ would have left his office. But time and history have blurred their relationship from boss and subordinate to friends and family. Personal matter no longer meant private, it meant a switch in barriers. It meant family.

She steps closer to his desk.

“You are always there for us, for these kinds of cases.” Her blue eyes bore into his, a technique Hotch recognizes as a fellow parent, to get through and make sure the person they are speaking to is really listening. “But, do you ever allow anyone to be there for you?”

He sighs through his nose. She’s not going to let this go, he can see that. No profiling needed.

“Sit.”

Closing the file, Hotch resigns himself to the fact that this was something inadvertently he’d been wanting to talk to JJ about, anyway. She had been a profiler for the team almost nearly as long as she’d been communications liaison, now, and although this could have waited for her performance review -- it tied into what was bothering him. The small smile of victory, and relief, slips from her lips as she sees the serious set to Hotch’s mouth. JJ is one hell of a profiler. The best ones did it without even knowing they were doing so.

“Wait… is this about me?” she looks mildly scandalized to even have to suggest it. Although really, it shouldn’t surprise her too much. Hotch knows he isn’t great about making things about himself, even when the conversation is supposed to be. So he gathers his thoughts, with such little prep time, and decides to start with where this whole debacle had begun.

In the car. When JJ had made her off-handed comment.

“The events of our lives shape us, and bring us here. As they do for everyone. It’s a technique that also helps us narrow down our profiles. How we were raised, what he have gone through. Heredity factors.”

JJ is staring hard at him, now. Deciphering the point, attempting to look ten steps ahead when Hotch has barely revealed three.

“You’re talking about Nature versus Nurture.”

“You could say that,” Hotch acquiesces. “In a lot of ways we are our parent’s lineage. Unless we choose not to be. I only became a prosecutor because my father was. But now, here I am.”

The parent’s lineage is a direct drop towards the conversation in the car. Both JJ and Hotch are intelligent adults, as is the entire team. Sometimes the most direct reference isn’t needed. Sometimes a key phrase is what links the mind back to the moment, replays it in the mind’s eye so it becomes fresh and there’s no confusion. Fewer words can connect more than a thousand, Hotch had learned that early on as well.

“I was… I was speaking more toward behavior,” JJ elaborates, still unaware where the conversation is going. How this has correlated to Hotch’s odd mood.

“I know you were. And my statement still stands,” Hotch answers plainly. “I’ve noticed that sometimes agents, myself included, let bias dictate their profiles. And we need to stray away from that kind of influence.”

JJ’s slight frown becomes defensive. Confused, but not angry. She’s learning quickly, Hotch notices.

“Nature and Nurture are a part of standard psychology practices. With a lot of information and testing to back it up. Spence could give you statistics for days, I’m sure. It’s proven.”

“Yes, as a theory. Not as a rule.” Hotch continues, giving her that steady, stern but gentle tone that borders on chastisement.

“I have yet to see an exception to that rule, when it comes to children of violent offenders,” JJ buckles down. “If they are the target of that violence, it warps them, Hotch. Plain and simple. How do they recover from something like that?” She’s shaking her head, getting caught up in the emotional aspect of it all over again. The hopelessness of its appearance.

“Any way they can.”

Now he has JJ’s attention, because she hears the shift as soon as it forms on his tongue. The air heavier, hazy like an old memory.

“Sometimes they leave home as soon as they graduate just to escape the situation, and spend their whole adult lives trying to eradicate it. By burying themselves in, say… Law School.” JJ’s stare goes vacant, and Hotch at least has the decency to look away from her as he continues. He has a point to make. “So they can put away people like their abuser. But when that’s not enough, prosecuting after the fact, they start to focus on ways to catch the offenders in the act. Save victims in the real world. Use what they know from experience, but in the field, so no one else slips through the cracks.”

“H-Hotch, I--”

“If there was a file on me as detailed as these on my desk, and there probably is somewhere in this building,” Hotch barrels on, not letting JJ get a word in edgewise. “Then the first seventeen years of my homelife would look nearly identical to John David Bidwell's childhood.” He didn’t need to go into further detail, though bullet points from the case all bust flash between them in neon.

Strict, domineering father figure. Church every Sunday, as a control and appearance factor. At home: a constant deluge of beratements, fear, shouting and fists. Something was always wrong, someone always deserved a punishment. No one was safe. They did what they could, followed the rules to a tee, but that wasn't always enough.

They survived, because that's all that they could do.

And he had.

“If you really require a physical, living exception to the rule, I’d like to hope we know each other well enough that you would consider myself that exception.” It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting what happened in his father’s household, and Hotch knows that’s as far as he will let it go. No elaboration needed. “Even if I can be ‘a bit of a bully’.”

Stunned and shocked, the last part probably wasn’t needed. But, again, Hotch has a point he’s trying to get across -- and he wants it to make an impact.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry,” JJ croaks out, and he still can’t look right at her.

“Don’t be, you didn’t know,” he soothes her, swallowing a little hard. “No one on the team does, not even Dave.”

“--No one?”

“The only one who probably did was Gideon, but not because I told him. He was just that good of a profiler. You will be, too, one day -- I see that level of potential in you. Profilers are always learning, evolving, developing their skills.” Hotch finally turns his head, and catches sight of JJ with her eyes bright and her nose red. Her tell-tale physical signs that she’s been holding back tears. “Let this be one of those moments.”

She nods, wipes at her eyes discreetly, and collects herself with more strength than Hotch or anyone else ever gives her credit for.

“Was he ever convicted? Your father?”

“No,” Hotch says, level. “He died of colon cancer ten years ago. He never even met Jack. Neither did my mother, though I am sorry for that.”

Silence stretches in the wake of Hotch’s reveal, and JJ only breaks it when she can’t seem to keep it back any more.

“You’re… you’re not really a bully. You know.”

“Yes, I am,” Hotch tells her, the smallest traces of a smile smoothing the sharp edges of his face. “But only when I choose to be. When it matters.”

JJ huffs out a watery laugh, scoots to the edge of her seat as if to stand, but hesitates once more.

“You didn’t have to tell me. But thank you. I’m… I’m glad you felt that you could.”

The sentiment warms the inside of Hotch’s chest, ice cold from the memories he never dredged up if he could afford it. It helps ease them back under the floorboards of his mind, where they belong.

“Thank you for listening.”

She was right. He didn’t confide in anyone, and he doesn’t know if this will help him -- more than likely, not -- but it helped JJ. And that’s what mattered. His team. His family. Growing, learning, becoming all the better for it. The best people he had ever known.

The family he had chosen for himself.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Night, JJ.”

-end scene-

#I got irrationally angered and wrote a thing #criminal minds fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner #jennifer jareau #no ships #angst #cw: mentioned child abuse #katyswriting #idk what I'm doing but I'm doing it in style

60 notes · View notes

thewayshedreamed · 4 years ago

Text

Operation Ghost Leopard— Lysaedion AU

Thank you for the prompt, Non! I really enjoyed writing this one— it’s the first Lysaedion I’ve ever written and the first Throne of Glass fic I’m publishing. Gotta love a prompt that pushes you!

Prompt: Can u write a Lysaedion fic 🙃 Sorry to send u so many prompts lol I’m feeling inspired but don’t feel like writing haha

Hope you guys enjoy! Feedback is always welcome, especially being that I haven’t written these two before!

——————————————————————————

Lysandra turned her head over, fluffed the loose waves, and flipped them back over as she stood up. She adjusted her cleavage in her low-cut ballgown and pulled the fabric down her hips a little to make sure it was as smooth as possible. Exhaling a long breath, she righted her shoulders and walked from the bathroom to the gala ballroom.

Her gown was a beautiful, rich emerald green that hugged her curves and made her eyes sparkle in the low light of the room. She was attending said gala as part of her current mission, which required her to play the part she most resented. People often commented on her beauty, with her bright green eyes, dark brown hair, generous curves, and full lips. She was flattered by the compliments in her younger years, before she realized her beauty was slowly becoming her identity.

She grew exceedingly tired of the assumptions she so often encountered when meeting new people. She was treated as shallow, vapid, and for whatever reason, less intelligent than those around her. She was by no means ungrateful for her blessings; she knew there were many women who would kill for them. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help feeling underwhelmed by the assignments Arobynn tossed her way, wishing for a little more substance in her work.

She looked down toward her cleavage, making sure the microphone that was sewn into the neckline of her dress was intact and well-hidden. Tern had done a formidable job hiding it within the fabric, but she felt as though he’d felt the need to “adjust it” a few too many times tonight. She was grateful to be out of his company for the time being.

Lysandra scanned the room for her target. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and made her way over to a waiter holding a tray of champagne. She smiled to him sweetly as he handed her drink over, thanking him for serving her. She surveyed the room over the lip of her glass, praying to the gods that she would see that head of golden hair. The sooner she located him, the sooner she could start building her rapport with him, and the faster this night would move.

Aedion Ashryver was anything but an easy target. Not only was he nobility, but he had extensive experience in battle and security, requiring an especially clever agent to complete this mission. When Arobynn had briefed her (along with Tern and the others), he had instructed her quite firmly to complete this mission by any means necessary.

Historically, that had always included bringing men home, whether it be to serve as a companion for the evening or offer her body to them. Lysandra wouldn’t claim that the thought didn’t repulse her each and every time, but her work was not for the feint of heart. Besides, she owed an incredible debt to the man she worked for, and it would be some time before she felt entitled to any sort of opinions on the matter. The consequences of those opinions were too grave to consider.

She knew she was in this position to tempt the young prince away from his post, allowing the rest of the men to move in on Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. His reputation as the party prince and his willingness to sleep with most were no doubt the reasons Lysandra had been selected for this mission. If anyone was going to stand in the way, it would be Aedion, who loved his cousin so fiercely that he wouldn’t hesitate to employ any skill in his repertoire to ensure her safety.

Arobynn and his men needed as many barriers eliminated as possible in their quest for the princess; a ploy to ensure the royals knew of his reach and influence in the area. Additionally, it was no small secret that he carried great affection for Aelin, and he believed she owed it to him to entertain the potential of a relationship after all they had been through.

That thought alone made Lysandra want to punch him in the throat. The nerve. The entitlement. As if the princess were indeed property.

She huffed a breath, still scanning the massive room for Aedion. She meant to walk forward, hoping to make a loop about the room, before a deep voice interrupted her.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, miss.”

Lysandra turned her head sharply and had to look up to peer into the face of her greeter. Her green eyes fell on ones of bright turquoise with a ring of gold; Ashryver eyes through and through. She scanned his face, observing how he had his golden hair swept into a low bun at the back of his head. If she truly had to complete this mission by any means necessary, she decided she could be much worse off than the beautiful man next to her.

She plastered her most dazzling smile on her face as she answered him. “I don’t believe you have,” she said, extending her hand to him. “Olivia.”

His mouth quirked up at one of the corners, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He took her hand in his, bowing slightly to place a chaste kiss to the back of it.

“Aedion. It’s lovely to meet you, Olivia.” He smiled, and she swore her heart skipped a beat. “Care to join me for a drink?”

“I would love that.”

——————————————————————————

About an hour later, they were each several drinks in, having settled at a table near the dance floor. Lysandra had just finished laughing at something Aedion had said moments before, and when she looked back to him, she felt like she wanted to pretend... pretend that she wasn’t an agent hired to sabotage the security of this party. That her participation didn’t effectively ruin any chance that she would ever get to have a genuine night like this with the young prince. He had been nothing but a gentleman the entire evening, and to top it off, he was charming and had a fantastic sense of humor... two things not common in the men she so often spent her time with. She was interrupted from her thoughts, once again, by that intoxicating voice.

“Olivia, would you dance with me?”

“Oh, I’m no dancer. But I appreciate the offer, Prince.”

He chuckled at her. “I told you to stop calling me that. It feels too proper. Please, call me Aedion.”

“Are your intentions with me improper, Aedion?” she asked. She didn’t know what had made her so bold so quickly, but she had a suspicion that it had to do with thoroughly enjoying his company.

She hoped she hadn’t crossed the line too quickly, but she was immediately comforted when he threw his head back and laughed.

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

Something in the words made her toes curl, and she had to shake her head slightly to refocus. He stood, holding his hand toward her.

“Seriously, let’s dance. I promise to lead, and I’ll even let you stand on my feet if you’re that bad off. Trust me.” The way he said the last two words made her stomach sink as if it were filled with lead. Guilt had never struck her on a mission before tonight.

He led her to the dance floor, lifting her hand in the air to spin her once, before gripping her waist with his other hand. She kept her one hand in his and rested the other on his shoulder. He guided her through a waltz, coaching her as needed. She found that he was an excellent teacher, and before long, they were gliding across the floor together.

“You’re a great dancer,” she said. She looked up into his face to find him already looking at her.

“Surprised?” he asked, taking that opportunity to pivot and spin them quickly a couple of times to the rhythm of the music before returning to their original steps.

She laughed, delighting in the way he led her so seamlessly across the dance floor. He wore a matching smile, and she found herself trying to commit it to memory.

“Honestly? A little. I didn’t exactly expect a former General to be so light on his feet.”

He gave her a sheepish smile, not missing a single step as he answered. “Ah. Well, neither the military, nor the war itself, saved me from the years of cotillion.” He ended with a grimace.

“You don’t seem too enthused about that,” she laughed. It was quickly drowned out but the popping of the speakers near the stage, startling her toward.

He steadier her, and she righted herself quickly. “Teenage Aedion was an absolute nightmare regarding cotillion, but my mother was relentless. All comes with the territory, I suppose.” He led them into another couple of swift turns, and as they did so, the damned speakers popped for a second time.

Lysandra jumped despite her effort not to, earning a low chuckle from Aedion. “It’s okay, Liv. Just noise interference.” Even so, he pulled her a little closer to him.

Gods, he was so fucking nice.

Just as quickly as she had the thought, she felt inclined to take it back. His hand started to slide up her waist as they moved, dangerously close to the underside of her breast. She supposed he’d earned his reputation from somewhere, and she was about to experience it.

“What do you say you and me get out of here for a little while? I could use a break from the noise,” he purred.

By any means necessary.

She held her breath, but he pulled his hand away slightly before he placed it on her ribs just below her collarbone, covering the neckline of her gown on that side of her body. He leaned his head close to her opposite ear, her breathing more and more shallow as he moved.

She cursed her heart for beating so intensely, knowing he could feel it due to the placement of his hand. She managed to keep her face somewhat neutral, not daring to look at him. She gave a brisk nod before he continued.

“Tern should have invested in better equipment. Your mic isn’t playing nice with the sound system, Lysandra.”

She stumbled slightly, but she corrected herself quickly, hoping no one noticed. He spoke again quickly.

“Give them the signal,” he instructed, as he brushed his lips over hers.

It took her a second to realize his meaning. Give them the signal that we’re going to find somewhere to enjoy each other.

Understanding dawned on her then— he was playing into his known reputation, looking like the promiscuous prince who couldn’t keep from feeling her up on the dance floor, all the while covering her mic to shield his words from listening ears. Her anger washed over her upon her realization that he was absolutely capitalizing on this knowledge. He obviously knew she wasn’t at the gala for leisure, and he also knew who she worked for if he knew her name. For a man who had seemed every bit the gentleman tonight, she couldn’t believe he was taking advantage of this situation to have his way with her. And to instruct her so arrogantly to give the signal, confident in what he knew. It had her blood boiling in seconds.

Despite her growing anger, she obliged. She ran the lapels of his tuxedo jacket between her index and middle fingers before placing a kiss to his cheek and grabbing his hand. This communicated to Tern and the others what she had planned next, so at least she didn’t have to worry about their eyes on her for a while. If she didn’t return within thirty minutes, they would go looking for her, but that still gave her plenty of time to hand the prince his ass.

Once they emerged from the ballroom, Aedion shifted forward, pulling her hand-in-hand behind him. He walked briskly down the hall, scanning all around them for any witnesses. The coast looked clear for the most part. Lysandra wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing as it applied to her.

They approached a women’s private restroom, and he pulled her swiftly inside. He locked the door behind him, gripped her by the waist, and turned her so that her back was against it. His eyes roamed her body, paying particular attention the assets exposed by her low neckline and his higher vantage point. She was still bristling with anger, and it irritated her that she flushed under his gaze.

He ran his nose along her temple, across her cheek, and then up and down the side of her own. She lifted her chin, shoulders squared, unwilling to back down after his odd power move on the dance floor. He offered a sideways smile, and she hated that it made her heart flip all the same.

“We only have a few minutes, Liv,” he murmured.

Liv? He already called me Lysandra.

“What are you waiting for?” she challenged.

He broke into a full grin at that, eyes glancing at her scarlet lips. His gaze darkened as it dropped past her mouth, landing on the neckline of her gown yet again. His hands came up, his calloused fingers running along it back and forth. She thought he aimed to tease her, but suddenly, he had gripped her gown on each side of her sternum and yanked. The gown ripped open down the middle, and any plans she had to seem collected vanished. She gaped at him, utterly speechless.

Rather than groping her chest, he rubbed the layers of fabric between his left thumb and fingers. Once he landed on what he was looking for, he fished her microphone out from between the layers, disposing of it in the sink and turning on the water. She watched as it danced under the stream, seeming as chaotic as her heartbeat and the thoughts running through her head.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered roughly.

He angled away from her as he shrugged off his jacket. He spoke, but his words weren’t meant for her.

“Come in, Whitethorn.”

A few seconds of silence.

“Have the wolves engaged the others?”

He was unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Once he got four of the buttons loose, he gripped it between his shoulders with one of his large hands and pulled it over his head.

“I’ll keep you posted on our location. Notify me once Salvaterre is in position.”

His attention turned to Lysandra again, keeping his gaze locked above her neck.

“Take off your dress and put this on,” he ordered, throwing his white shirt toward her.

“You’re not serious.”

“Look, I’ll turn around, but we don’t have a lot of time,” he said impatiently as he pulled his belt from their loops around his waist.

She did as he said, letting the ripped gown fall to the floor. She eased the massive shirt over her head and was enveloped in his scent. She didn’t hate it.

“It’s on. Now will you tell me what the fuck is going on?”

He shoved his belt toward her, and when she offered him a confused look in return, he elaborated.

“Don’t women do something with these to make a dress or something? Put it around your waist. I’ll roll up your sleeves.”

He worked around her efficiently, despite her frequent movements to wrap the belt around her. She pulled it tight, wrapping the excess around itself and tucking it under.

“You still haven’t told me anything, Aedion.”

He pulled the elastic from his hair, letting his long, golden locks fall to his shoulders. She couldn’t help but give him a once over. The fact that he was now in nothing but his slacks, a plain white v-neck stretched tightly across his shoulders, and his hair hanging freely was quite distracting, to say the least.

“I’m on a bit of a mission myself. The twins are working the room near your colleagues to serve as a distraction and to buy us some time. Being that they won’t look for us for another 20 minutes or so, we should be okay. But you’re not exactly easy to sneak out of an event in a tight green dress and looking... like you do,” he explained. He handed the elastic to her, prompting her to pull up her long locks.

“You were quite clever out there. With the mic and all that,” she deadpanned. “I should have known you were up to something.” She pulled her hair into a messy bun and regarded him as he shoved his bow tie into his tuxedo jacket.

“Last I checked, people didn’t earn high ranks in the military or high-profile security positions by looks alone,” he joked. He turned to look her over, running a hand through his hair.

“Gods, you couldn’t be plain if you tried,” he remarked under his breath.

She tried not to blush under his praise, but her body had already betrayed her. His eyes fell to her mouth, and she felt her body heat under his appreciative gaze yet again. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. She was holding her breath, but his next words brought her abruptly back to the present.

“Lick my thumb.”

She blinked up at him and pulled her head back slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

He rolled his eyes, daring to look exasperated. “I’m going to wipe off your lipstick. We’re meant to be sneaking out after a quick romp in the bathroom.”

“Please don’t say romp. And, no.”

“Fine,” he said and made to move his thumb toward his own mouth. He was too close and his scent was all over her. She couldn’t think straight.

“Wait! Stop,” she gripped his hand and brought his thumb between her lips. She watched as his pupils dilated, but he shifted his focus to his task as if he was completely unaffected. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, then her top lip, and he spent a little additional time cleaning things up around her Cupid’s bow. She hated the heat that rushed through her at his touch.

He cocked his head as he finished, and she realized it must be because he was receiving some type of communication.

“10-4. We’re on our way,” he responded.

“Why should I go anywhere with you? They’re going to look for me. I can’t just leave. What the hell is this about?” The words poured from her, one statement after the next, all rapid fire. She almost mentioned that he was playing right into her own mission by leaving the princess vulnerable, but she knew it was unwise.

He scooped her gown from the floor and shoved it into the large trashcan in the bathroom.

“I need you to trust me, okay?” The earnestness in his expression broke her heart. “They can come looking for you. They won’t find you, and you’re officially under the protection of the royal family of Terrasen, anyway. They can’t hurt you.” He threw his vest and jacket over his arm, gripping her hand as he opened the door.

He flipped off the light, leading her down the dim hall near the ballroom. They slipped into one of the side doors, and he placed her between himself and the wall as they walked the perimeter of the gala. He walked quickly, his long legs making it nearly impossible for Lysandra to keep up with him without stumbling. She observed the twins holding court near her colleagues, and she dipped her head in the hopes that they wouldn’t see her. She hadn’t made the conscious decision to do so, and she realized then that she was more onboard with this exit than she’d been willing to admit. They approached the doors toward the front of the ballroom, and he shifted her in front of him so that her form would be blocked by his large frame from anyone inside the event.

They made it through the lobby in seconds, and he gripped her hand to guide her toward a large, black SUV. She skidded to a halt, feeling compelled to warn him of the threats to his cousin.

“They’ll look for Aelin,” she breathed.

He pulled her slightly to continue walking, speaking in a hushed tone. “The princess will be fine. We have to keep moving.”

Guilt poured through her, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain everything to him. She wouldn’t have the time, anyway. They approached the SUV, and he pulled the door open roughly, ushering her inside as quickly as she could move. He hauled himself inside after her, speaking lowly.

“Target secured. You may retreat.” She realized he was talking to the twins inside. A dark, intimidating man sat in the driver’s seat, and Lysandra assumed he must be “Salvaterre”. He pulled forward, easing them away from the building, but hitting the gas urgently once they turned onto the highway.

A large, tattooed hand reach from the seat behind them, making her jump in surprise. The hand gripped Aedion’s shoulder, giving it a slight shake. “Well done, brother,” he praised.

“Are one of you going to tell me what the hell is going on? Since Ashryver here seems unwilling to do so?” she demanded, impatience tickling her spine.

None of the men spoke, but she felt the smooth caress of breath over her ear. She turned, and a pair of turquoise eyes identical to Aedion’s locked with her own. The princess of Terrasen looked at her, her chin resting on her folded arms over the back of the seat.

“Evening, Lys. It’s been too long,” Aelin cooed.

“Aelin,” she said as a greeting. She didn’t have anything else to add.

“Maybe I could offer some insight,” she remarked, eyes scanning Lysandra’s face but never showing any signs of discomfort at the tension.

“And why would you be able to do that?” she seethed.

“I’m the one that asked them to find you.”

——————————————————————————

Let me know what y’all think!

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, please send me an ask, a message, leave a comment, or reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!

[And, if I’ve left you off my list unintentionally, please don’t hesitate to remind me! No offense taken!]

Tags (masterlist):

@polireader // @justgiu12 // @hizqueen4life // @sis-it-dont-add-up // @b00kworm // @bookstantrash // @gisellefigue08 // @maastrash // @superspiritfestival // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @sayosdreams // @ladywitchling // @keshavomit // @over300books // @sleeping-and-books // @welcometothespeaknowworldtour // @drielecarla

#lysaedion #lysaedion au #tog #lysaedion fanfic #throne of glass #aedion #lysandra #twsd writes #twsd fics #prompts

140 notes · View notes

starkeaton · 4 years ago

Text

the adventure zone: graduation character list

Well, i accidentally deleted the original graduation character list post, so here i am making another one. Oops. And as always, if anyone has important details i should add then feel free to suggest them!

Here are all the characters introduced in episodes 1-25. Named characters only!

Also i can’t hide spoilers! So, um..... I can’t put spoilers on this one. If you need the version with spoilers try this version of the post that i made on the adventure zone subreddit but youre not missing out on much.

# -EPISODE 1- (19 characters)

Hieronymous Wiggenstaff (he/him): Head of the Hero/Villain school. at least 400 years old. wears shining blue armor with gold accents. also an elf. according to Tomas, he led the charge at the "battle of blood valley", brought the Kingdoms of Rickart and Dawnbreak to a peace treaty, and founded the school. a little boastful, a little prideful, [SPOILERS OMITTED], and overall a pretty good dude.

Higglemas Wiggenstaff (he/him): Head of the Sidekick/Henchperson annex, cranky old elf. has a dog named hero who shows no signs of anything strange at all, ever.

Gary (he/him): friendly room gargoyle. pseudo-hivemind.

Groundsy (he/him): the groundskeeper. a pretty nice fellow. don't go in his shed.

Hernandez (he/him): beautiful centaur professor of animal handling.

Jimson (he/him): human battlegrounds trainer for sidekicks/henchpeople, world famous featherweight champion, wields a staff. married to crushman.

Crushman (he/him): silver dragonborn with a sickle, and self-described beefy boy! heavyweight blood champion married to jimson. never lost a match for 8 years. full name Frostus Crushman.

Rolandus Fontaine (he/him): former prince, son of deposed king, kind of an asshole, maybe. wears a cape (important detail)

Zana (she/her): "terrifying" tiefling villain sorcerer, friend of rolandus. barkept the test tavern in ep2

Rhodes (she/her): hero ranger, friend of rolandus.

Buckminster Eden (he/him): hero guy. son of "The Iron Lord". their dad is stronger than rolandus's dad. his wiki page says rogue so i think hes a rogue? i never caught that and ive listened more times than i wish i did

Leon (he/him): softspoken buff, bald "fighter" (although i dont remember any clarification on how exactly he fights), sidekick of buckminster, around 28. anyone else keep forgetting he's bald? i keep forgetting it. >!gets sorta-drafted into becoming a falcon for higglemas and so far hasn't done much else.!<

Rainer Michelle (she/her): cheerful villainous necromancer with a floating chair. also, her name is pronounced "rainier" despite not being confirmed as such? travis ships her with fitzroy.

Tomas (he/him): human man with "kind eyes" and a good (psychic???) memory. guidance counselor.

Stewart LeBoeuf (he/him): brawny human man. serves food. there is no joke here, i promise

Mulligan (he/him): teaches potions. mentioned but doesn't appear yet. and we're like 25 episodes in. maybe we'll see him someday

Germaine, Victoria, Rattles (he/him,she/her,???/???): Skeleton crew. They live in the training room i guess, and as a result can never die, because "no one dies in the training room!" (note: someone now HAS to die in the training room). also their races are never explicitly stated but i guess they're probably human? in episode 3 travis brings up something about how many bones are in "the human body" and at this point i think i'm looking too deep into this so i'll just forget about it and you probably should too.

# -EPISODE 2- (9 characters)

Riveau (he/him): halfling, blame-taking teacher.

Mimi (they/them): gnome sidekick who builds cool robot prosthetics

Bartholemus (he/him): owl aarakocra accountant teacher, known for being the best accountant in the land and having a face some might describe as "smoochable". very pro capitalist :’( hope he gets better

Ramos (she/her): goliath teacher of shieldwork. *

Dip (she/her): sidekick, half-orc twin of pip

Pip (she/her): hero, half-orc twin of dip

Festo (they/them): fairy with "beautiful gossamer wings", independent study teacher of magic, loves to party

Snippers (he/him?): Let me tell you my story about Snippers the magic crab. When Travis gave the list of animals that Griffin could choose as Fitzroy's familiar's current form, he listed crab near the start, and this gave me excitement. Now i knew that crab was pretty unlikely but god i hoped that he would choose it. When the list went on- Bat, Cat, Crab, Frog, Hawk, Lizard, Owl, Poisonous Snake, Fish, Rat, Raven, Seahorse, Spider or Weasel- I nearly lost hope. I was hoping so hard that Griffin would choose the crab, but i was ready to accept a non-crab familiar. It was just buried in that list. It wasn't the most useful animal and it was an obscure pick. And as Travis informed him that it didn't have to keep the form for the whole campaign, Griffin said those five words i wanted to hear so, so badly. "Well then it's a crab." Folks, I do not often react physically when something happens in media. But in that moment, i remember very clearly, i fist-pumped and yelled, "YES!!!!!!"

so anyway, Fitzroy has a crab.

Jackle (he/him): kenku teacher of sneakery. creepy dude. apparently knows something about argo? also his name is not spelled "jackal" for some reason. Also in later episodes theyve started calling him "The Jackle" for some reason??? *

# -EPISODE 3- (1 character)

Dakota (they/them): tavern instructor, clad in black/red leather. no race stated? probably human. *

# -EPISODE 4- (6 characters)

Gerry & Tom (she/her, he/him): shopkeepers at barns and nobles who seem to have very bad names. also constantly competing for customers? these guys got dropped faster than the heathcliff quests, which is honestly just sad.

Barb (she/her): the bartender. runs Springs Eternal in Last Hope. has a sweet seeing-eye hawk familiar.

Jaryd Reginald (he/him): owner of Reginald Ore. Wants the workers to be held responsible for the damage caused by the xorn. (fun fact: originally i wrote down "Jerrod" because i wanted it to sound like a fantasy name, then realized it was probably "Jared" because theyre named after listeners, but i was pleased to find it confirmed that it's actually "Jaryd")

Candice (she/her): A Miner. thought those werent allowed in bars but, i guess not. Wants the mine owner to be held responsible for the xorn's damage.

Jade Johnson Esq. (she/her): lawyer.

# -EPISODE 5- (1 character)

Xorn: a big hungry gem eating guy from the plane of earth Low-Down Deep with 3 arms and 3 legs. why did travis just say "multi-armed" instead of specifying it was 3? who knows! Anyway it leaves

# -EPISODE 6- (3 characters)

Osric (he/him): the man, the myth, the bursar. finally shows up after being mentioned in episodes 2 and 4. he's an elf.

breeze through the willows (she/her): Pegasus attacked by demons, lost her parents. introduced in ep1 but gets a name here so fuck it. also in ep>!16!< we find out shes a "white arabian pegasus" and i dont think thats a spoiler bc we shouldve really known it from the beginning

Sabor (he/him): Librarian/research teacher. also a TORTLE. Really good at recalling stuff, i guess. kinda reminds me of Tomas's memory thing but i'm sure that's just a coincidence... *

# -EPISODE 7- (1 character)

Mosh (he/him): The goliath blacksmith who welcomes argo into the unbroken chain. Also, and this is specific to the tumblr version of this post, all the characters with an * at the end of their descriptions are also members of the unbroken chain. if someone knows how to do spoilers on tumblr please tell me

# -EPISODE 8-

# -EPISODE 9- (2 characters)

Eeiïäá#æ&éñn (pronounced like "Ian") (he/him?): an imp but without a shitty voice. also happens to not be violent. what a coincidence?

Terence (he/him): a chain devil with a real demonic name. minor boss of the imps. very convincing and very threatening. has the frightening ability to make you zone out during his fight

# -EPISODE 10- (2 characters)

Althea Song (she/her): elf with autumn-orange hair. representative from heroic oversight guild. i'd like to personally thank travis for spelling her name out.

Crabtree (she/her): Artificing teacher. Long gray hair with a long grey beard. no mentioned race, one might guess dwarf but that would be an assumption i suppose. also unbroken chain member, presumably the dwarf argo didn't recognize in episode 7.

# -EPISODE 11- (3 characters)

Marie (she/her): Grey-haired elf woman. She's the school's physician, i guess. Member of the unbroken chain.

Dendra Maplecourt (she/her): Fitzroy's mom. Has hot mint gum, i guess. She was mentioned earlier but i wasn't convinced she was a real person until this episode

Cool Gary (he/him): AYY ITS ME GARYR

# -EPISODE 12-

no new characters again!

# -EPISODE 13- (7 characters hhhyyyuu)

Kale (???/???): Head of the Placement Department, in charge of real world assignments. First mentioned in Ep4 but i missed that the last few times bc it is so brief. Gives exposition about missions i guess????? is that the only reason this chara cter exists

satyr thief (unnamed) (he/him): tries to rob thundermen, dies instantly

Ogre (he/him): teamed up with the satyr. his name is ogre.

Moon (he/him): A Sidekick. small pale sullen guy. no mentioned race. Why is there another FUCKING sidekick WE HAD ENOUGH hhhyuuuuuu

Deanna (she/her): A bigoted centaur with an obnoxious voice. Malwin the Strong's second in command.

Malwin the Strong (she/her): Leader of the centaurs of the scarlet woods. Wants to appease the spirit of the scarlet woods so that thecentaurs of the scarlet woods will be protected in the scarlet woods. Had a relationship with Arturas in the past but their clashes are currently known to get pretty heated.

Arturas (he/him): Leader of the Centaurs of the Valley, i guess. Had a relationship with Malwin. Centaur. Did i mention centaur? i cant think of anything else about this character

# -EPISODE 14- (2 characters)

Calhain (he/him): Human wizard, Malwin's magical advisor. Kind of an amateur wizard in a job high above his skill level. Graduated Wigginstaff's as a hero.

Spirit of the Scarlet Woods: A spirit who requires sacrifice in order to keep Malwin's herd safe and prosperous. Not keen on dubiously canonical combos, i guess. i wouldnt be either. also apparently the sacrifice depends on personal value, not how much value it has to the spirit.

# -EPISODE 15- (2 characters)

Sylvia Nite (she/her): Fitzroy's magic theory teacher at knight night school, who he turned into a catfish by accident. oops!

Chaos (they/them, maybe more): Presumably a deity, gave Fitz his powers and wants him to give in to his chaotic desires. (physical desc: 9 foot tall, iridescent 'mother of pearl' skin, pure white eyes, fine burgundy cloak with gold/onyx lining. their physical form beyond that seems to change every time they show up.)

# -EPISODE 16-

none -w-

# -EPISODE 17-

some demins happened. the big dudes are called "Pit Fiends" and the armored demon ladies are called "Erinyes", by the way. that was incredibly hard for me to figure out the first time, especially without headphones, i thought travis was saying "pig feet" and i just could not discern what the other things were

# -EPISODE 18- (6 characters)

snow on the mountain: shire horse pegasus

storm at sea: peruvian paso pegasus, vehement defender of The Guardian. doesn't have a goofy voice.. but he could have....

thaw of the spring: a winged horse

night of no clouds: a winged hhorse

The Guardian: "An ancient and powerful being that guards the unknown forest." Has protected the flock from demons for many many years. apparently is the voice that was talking to our firbolg in episode 1?

Grey, the Demon Prince (he/him): wants to cause a war, originally wanted to kill hiero and higgs, forces the heroes to build an army to fight his. As "Fauxronimous", he has skin the *color and pattern of* (but not necessarily made of) slate splashed with liquid, pointed ears, sharp teeth, shining eyes, horns of unspecified shape. 12 fucking feet tall. wonder if the slate-looking skin is related to garys. plot twist detected? Also i recently looked at the episode descriptions and found out his name is spelled "Gray", but really does it truly matter?

# -EPISODE 19- (2 characters)

Shabree Keene (she/her): Argo's mom, killed on the Mariah, possibly by the Commodore. Long auburn hair, green eyes. Mentioned earlier but described here, so fuck it.

**Thomas** (he/him): Argo's first mate on the Mariah, as the Kraken, in his chaos-dream. may or may not actually exist.

# -EPISODE 20- (1 character)

The Commodore (he/him): Reknowned hero of the seas, military regalia, great naval hero, presumably responsible for the death of Shabree Keene. No mentioned race. Seriously, they never mention this guy's race. The only thing described about him is how he's dressed and his evil smile. Does that mean he's human? Elf? Dwarf??? Who knows! maybe it just doesnt matter.

# -EPISODE 21-

none

# -EPISODE 22-

not any of them. not any.

# -EPISODE 23- (1 character)

Ozymondelius (sp???) (it/its): A warforged teacher who just so happens to like war or something? i guess its in the name. only mentioned in this episode, doesnt show up yet.

# -EPISODE 24-

they have a fight in the training room but nobody dies :\\ maybe next time. also no new characters. pog

# -EPISODE 25- (4 characters)

Gherkin (he/him): Tall lankier skeleton, has a scimitar and a merkin, which is a pubic wig... and he wears a jerkin? which i guess is a kind of coat? also i think hes mute

Tibia (she/her?) : Shorter skeleton with gold teeth, and long canines. i think both of the skeletons are mute actually.

The Lich King aka Gordy (he/him): Rainer's dad. Commands armies of the undead. lives in The Crypt. described as a hooded, skull-faced man with intricate black lines on his face, but changes to a shaved-head man with dark skin and vetiligo. Abandoned as a babby, raised by traveling parents, had necromancy powers, took Rainier in. Not actually very scary at all i don't know why he did the creepy laugh. Kind of a warm fatherly figure actually. hm. also people are speculating Gordy might be short for Gordita and his parents are maybe supposed to be lup and barry but THAT S JUST A THEORY.

our firbolg's father (he/him): A firbolg who lived by the code and was there when our firbolg was banished. Came to respect our firbolg's interest in a new way of life, in his final moments.

TOTAL: 72 NPCS! (well, including 2 extra PCs, i guess.)

Average: 2.88 NPCs per episode.

i was gonna not include the bone-PCs and have it be 69 but our firbolg's dad was just too important to not respect with a spot on the list.

anyway as always make sure to smack me with a blunt object if i forgot any characters!!!!!

#the adventure zone #taz #taz: graduation #taz g #sir fitzroy maplecourt #argonaut keene #taz firbolg #i dunno what else to tag this with #text post #keatposting

34 notes · View notes

gothhisoka · 4 years ago

Text

ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬 𝔵 𝔒ℭ 𝔖𝔪𝔲𝔱

Warnings: minors DNI, 18+, nsfw, smut, too seggcy for tumblr?

Word count: 3.9k

Background: This is chapter 19 of my fanfic called Hunter University! You can read it on either Wattpad or AO3 by clicking here. Right now, both my OC and Chrollo are drunk after a night out at a ball. They had their first kiss there, and now Chrollo showed up for more(?). He got in trouble at the ball and said he would meet Reiko later. And here he is now.

Chrollo was surprised Reiko looked so intact. He was sure she would come waddling to the door in pajamas as she did the last time he visited her room. Although it had been an hour since the ball ended, her makeup hadn't smudged a bit. Sure, it was faded, and her hair was significantly messier, but overall she looked as remarkable as she did at the start of the ball.

Her tired eyes widened with surprise at the sight of him. He was just as unimpaired as she was. Though now he was missing his suit jacket. His hair had become slightly disheveled, losing its styled waves. He still had on those signature silver rings and little cross earrings.

Reiko attempted to soak in his sight with her intoxicated brain. He looked even more captivating in this particular state.

Her drunkenness had faded a bit but it was surely still there. With a quick rest, she had come to comprehend all that had transpired in the courtyard. Although she had a couple of first kisses to go off of, none were quite like this. Not one made her as flustered as this. Perhaps it was due to Chrollo's quiet yet domineering personality that she didn't know what to make of it.

But after all, he was true to his word. That meant more to her than he could ever imagine. However, it was unclear why he had come back. Maybe for a second round? Reiko could only hope.

"What happened?" Reiko asked. She had the right to know after he left her on the dance floor alone.

She couldn't even bother to be mad. Her intellect said to be angry but her heart failed her. It fluttered at the sight of him. He hadn't even stepped into her room yet.

"Nothing you should worry about," he replied.

Ok, maybe she could bother to be a little mad. How much more would she have to not worry? She ached to know his business. That's what comes after a first kiss, right? They owed it to each other to be truthful. At least as truthful as they could be without getting into the matter of secret missions and such.

Reiko stepped aside to let him in and shut the door. Her room was the same as the last time he saw it, with her drawings hung on the walls and lights strung above the desk. Their small bulbs reflected against the night-stained window.

Upon shutting the door, the tension noticeably rose. It was dark in the small space and they were alone. Again. The last time they were alone like this was only hours earlier in the courtyard. Reiko hoped that this encounter was heading in the same direction.

"No, really what happened?" Reiko looked at him with worry, despite his comment.

Chrollo decided to give a partial truth. Better than no truth at all. He shrugged, "I got off with a week-long addition to my suspension. It's really nothing to worry about. I could have got off with a lot worse but..."

Chrollo took his black dress shoes off near the door, placing them neatly side by side.

So he plans on staying. Reiko tried to hide a smile. The hour of his visit was surely suspicious. There could be only one thing on his mind.

He paused, noticing a drawing on the wall behind the place where the door would otherwise be covering.

He had begun to walk around the room, absentmindedly stopping at a piece of art from time to time. Reiko was too tired to care. The collection included nature scenes, portraits of people he didn't recognize, anatomy studies, and...

A full-body anatomy study of Reiko herself. To be specific, it would fit further in the category of a glorified nude. It was on a miniature piece of parchment sketched in charcoal. It was obviously her: the woman had her long wavy hair and distinct mouth and nose. The paper was hardly noticeable amongst the scatter of papers. You wouldn't see it unless you had a careful eye such as that of Chrollo.

He continued his sentence, now making a terrible attempt to hide a smile, "...But I'm in good standing with the school."

Reiko hardly noticed when he reached the particular spot on her wall. Her tiredness had waned significantly with Chrollo's entrance, but it still fogged her mind.

Additionally, she had long forgotten about her secret behind-the-door location for her drawings that were not meant to be seen by a single soul, including herself.

At the time, she had thought the self-nude might bring her some confidence. It had not. This explains the placement of it in her room.

She didn't lack confidence with her physical form, necessarily. If anything, she felt lewd and embarrassed by any sexual expression. She was not used to being open about it. Being brought up in a small town with a watchful mother had resulted in years of repression and secret partners. This restraint had begun to wane in college, to now, where she was finally becoming comfortable with herself.

She wanted nothing more than to experiment with the boy in front of her. He wouldn't be her first, but certainly, he would be her best.

The sheer amount of tension in the room proved this fact. Reiko was sure they both felt it. She wasn't about to suggest anything outright though. She wasn't that forward.

I probably shouldn't be looking at him like that. This man reads minds, remember?

"Well, that's good. So what're you doing here?" Reiko spoke nonchalantly, acting like she didn't just fantasize about putting the sheer amount of tension between them to use.

Chrollo opened and shut his mouth, his response escaping him. He turned back to her and used his eyes to convey a craving far deeper than any words could admit.

"I said I would come to find you, didn't I?" He said lowly.

When will we stop beating around the bush? Reiko smiled darkly. That was the answer, or lack thereof, that she had anticipated. The heat in the room shot through the roof. She was sure if she checked the temperature it would be well above its normal chilly state. Perhaps it was the heat in her cheeks that was causing such a change.

Reiko thought she had a good idea of why he had come to her room at one o'clock in the morning after a night of drinking and questionably close dancing. She couldn't be certain, though, because that was just how he was: unpredictable and exceedingly complicated.

Luckily, Reiko was prepared with a response. She never failed to come ready for something she could expect. And this, the direction in which their encounter is headed, is inevitable. She had been rehearsing the line in her head for the duration of their conversation like reviewing terms for a test.

This was the only way to test if her assumptions were correct.

Blame it on the champagne if I am wrong. But I really hope I'm right.

Reiko looked directly at him. Time to be daring.

She took a breath and did her best to maintain eye contact, "Oh, did you?"

Walking towards him, she placed a hand at the hem of her dress. Her delicate fingers wrapped around its lacy fabric.

"Well, I actually do need some help. You see, this dress is quite difficult to take off by myself..."

Chrollo looked amused. He sized Reiko up, looking from her hand holding the hem of her dress to her unfazed expression. Unfazed, yet her cheeks were slowly turning a shade of scarlet. Nice try, Chrollo thought.

He gestured, "Turn around."

Reiko obeyed. She desired something far more than the unzipping of her dress, but she was not presumptuous enough to say it. The expression on Chrollo's face told her that he was hoping for the same thing. He hid many emotions well, but being turned-on wasn't one of them.

Chrollo brushed Reiko's hair away from the zipper, delicately placing it over her shoulder. His fingers purposefully grazed her back as he did this, causing Reiko's breath to hitch slightly.

His hands moved to the zipper, carefully pulling it down. It went past the clasp of her bra to her lower back. There was complete silence. Both were still.

Chrollo was the first to move. He pulled Reiko close to him so that her back was touching him. His left arm wrapped across her chest possessively, holding her in a tight embrace. With his other hand, he brushed her hair back from her ear. He still smelt of sweet alcohol. Clearly, he was slightly drunk as well, for the next words he said couldn't be uttered by a sober man.

His whispered breath tickled her neck, husky with the threat of sleep, "I want you so bad right now."

Reiko tensed with a surge of want. Her impression had been right. He let his strong arm remain around her, patiently waiting for a response.

She choked out her reply, "The feelings' mutual."

Under his touch, her streak of audacity from earlier dissolved into compliancy. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to submit to his words.

With complete control, Chrollo took her shoulder and turned her around. Her dress was now loose on her shoulders. He placed his hands around her hips firmly. He looked at her under his thick eyelashes and slowly leaned in. The pressure was growing to an unbearable level, but he still wouldn't go all the way.

Then his lips crashed against hers with the force of weeks of pent-up desire. It was unbelievable how different this kiss was from the one they shared only hours ago. This one didn't speak of courtesy, of patience. This was raw passion. It was furious and messy. Reiko preferred this to sensitive steps around the intensity they both craved.

"You must still be drunk," Reiko said playfully as they both pulled away to catch their breath. She held her hand to Chrollo's chest. His heart was beating surprisingly fast.

Whats happening isn't connected to any feelings. He's drunk, that's all. As Reiko thought this, she still couldn't help but beam up at him.

"If I'm drunk, then what are you?" Chrollo said with a lazy smirk.

"I'm drunk as well."

Chrollo threaded his hands through her hair, pulling the long strands through his fingers. He pulled her in close again with his hand at the back of her head.

Reiko opened her mouth to allow for Chrollo's tongue to slip in. He lessened the intensity and slowly moved his tongue against her own tongue and lips. She couldn't help but let out soft moans that made Chrollo weak at the knees.

He pushed her against the wall to deepen their kiss. Drawings fluttered down, becoming detached with the sudden movement. Including that drawing.

Chrollo pulled away, much to Reiko's shock. She was left panting with reddened cheeks. Please don't let this end now.

He displayed a shit-eating grin. Even with his ego, in the current moment, his expression made Reiko melt. His face was inches from hers, looking down into her blue eyes.

He shifted his gaze down to the floor and said, "Nice drawing you have there."

Reiko finally noticed what he had been so smug about. Shit. Her face flushed ten different shades of scarlet.

Chrollo leaned in as he did before and murmured in her ear, "I wish I could see the real thing."

Reiko failed to not show her excitement. The way her eyes lit up exposed her. "I can arrange that."

At that, Chrollo leaned in again, this time moving to Reiko's neck. His lips fluttered down her throat to her collarbone. Reiko leaned her head back and tried to control her uneven breath.

His lips reached the edge of the neckline on her dress. He raised his eyes to meet Reiko's, asking for permission to go further.

She let out a breathy, "Yes. Please."

What she wanted to say was, Please, take me now.

It could be too soon for him, they had their first kiss that very night. But based on how this was going, Reiko expected it was leading to something more. Whatever that was, she wished she could know right now. The growing tension between her thighs began to ache.

Chrollo slipped his hand across Reiko's pale skin to the hemline of her dress, moving it completely off of her shoulder and down her arms. Her black see-through bra was now in full-view. Her nipples grew hard at the sudden exposure.

At least I went with my fancy bra. She suddenly grew very shy. The last time she went even this far was years ago. Her slim body resulted in average-sized breasts, but Chrollo didn't seem to care.

He evidently liked the lingerie as well for his hands immediately traveled to her breast to caress it as he continued to kiss her.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered against her neck. Reiko's heart fluttered at his words.

Chrollo then moved his lips progressively further down as he slipped her dress off of her body. Soon her underwear came into view, then her feet. He helped her step out of the dress.

"Your turn," Reiko said, unbuttoning his shirt. All the while he continued to distractingly leave lazy kisses upon her face, one on her forehead, her cheek, her lips.

After an agonizingly long time, Reiko pulled off his shirt. Fuck.

She knew he would be defined. But him, this boy standing in front of her, resembled more of a greek statue than an actual human. It looked like his body had been sculpted by the finest stone on earth. He had a six-pack, defined pectoral muscles, and prominent collarbones. His biceps flexed as he leaned his hand against the wall, bracing himself. It was Reiko who needed to brace herself. Her breath hitched again at the sight of him.

She ran a hand up his firm body as she planted her lips upon his once again. This time Chrollo put his hands beneath her thighs, his fingers pressing into her soft skin. He picked her up easily. She wrapped her legs around him as he brought her to the bed, kissing him all the while.

He dropped her down gently, releasing his grip off of her thighs. Reiko took this time to look up at him and admire the beauty of his aroused state. He had a dangerous and wild look, with touseled hair and a constant smile playing at his lips. His heavy-lidded eyes were lazily focused upon her.

They continued to make out on the bed, its white silk sheets creating an angelic halo around Reiko. Chrollo couldn't stand looking at her like this, underneath him. It was far too much power for one man to hold.

Reiko reached to her back to undo the clasp of her bra. She threw it to the ground. Chrollo immediately began to touch her naked tits in a way that made her want to dissolve. He moved in circles around her nipples first, watching as they grew harder under his expert touch. Then he moved his mouth to the sensitive area, playing with her and biting slightly. Reiko audibly moaned at the gesture. Damn the neighbors.

Chrollo sensed her desire to take it further. He looked up, grey eyes filled with lust, "Reiko...let me pleasure you."

It wasn't the suggestion Reiko was expecting, but she was satisfied nonetheless. She didn't care about anything in the world besides what he could do to her at this moment, whatever it may be.

"If you say my name like that you can do anything you want to me," Reiko said breathily. It was exactly what he needed to hear.

Chrollo smirked and moved to take off her soaking underwear. Under his pants, his dick grew visibly harder. He threw the underwear onto the floor.

Gently placing his finger at her throbbing core, he began to stroke. Upon receiving his touch Reiko's back arched involuntarily. She was beyond eager.

"Fuck... Chrollo..."

This served as encouragement for him to insert his finger deeper into her, curling it slightly. It hit Reiko's g-spot repeatedly, illiciting ungodly sounds from her.

As he was doing this, he slowly positioned himself on top of Reiko, grabbing onto the bed frame with his spare hand. He just wanted to look at her face as she opened her mouth in delight.

He inserted one more finger which caused Reiko's arousal to heighten. God, he really knows how to do this.

Just as Reiko felt the heat in her core escalating, he slid his finger out. She whimpered in protest.

Chrollo looked down at her with a wicked smile. "Beg for it."

Oh fuck.

She gladly would. It was more her instincts speaking than any coherent thought.

"Please... Chrollo..." she said between breaths.

She wanted to not only plead for him, she wanted to worship him.

"More."

He belonged in line next to holiness. His fingers and mouth were sacred. He had made her feel like a divine being with his gentle to intense strokes. And oh god, did she eat it up.

"FUCK please do that again," Reiko exclaimed.

It was enough to convince him. Chrollo moved his face towards her slickened pussy.

Is he about to...

He pushed his hair back out of his face with his clean hand, his forehead tattoo revealed. For only a second, he raised his eyes to gaze into Reiko's. She fell for him all over again at that simple glance.

Then he entered her. His tongue made her want to weep. He devoured her insides, soaking up the salty juices. She couldn't help but hold his head, pulling it closer to her body. She ran her hand through his soft black hair. There was so much heat between them that they were both perspiring.

Reiko began to shudder." I'm going to... oh... fuck," she gasped.

She felt the sweet release of cum spread below her onto the sheets and Chrollo himself. She felt self-conscious for a moment. That is until Chrollo began to lick up her juices. He ran his tongue up her soft thighs.

"You taste so fucking good, darling."

Chrollo looked at her like he had fallen all over again as well. Reiko grinned back at him. Her cheeks grew even redder, if possible. Her heart screamed at her to continue but she was too physically exhausted to move. Still, wouldn't Chrollo want his turn?

She laid there, naked and panting on the silk sheets. Chrollo flopped next to her, unaffected beside his flushed cheeks and a wide grin.

The lights were still low in the little room. Looking out the window, Reiko saw that the sun had yet to rise. This was a positive fact because the only thing Reiko needed to do now was to sleep. And preferably, cuddling with the boy next to her. She hoped he would stay. It was more than hope, really. Her body couldn't spend any more time away from him after that.

Damn. He was good. He was really, really fucking good.

He knew his way with words, to begin with. He said exactly what needed to be said to escalate her arousal. She wanted to worship those fingers, the way he so expertly felt around her like he had memorized a map. And his tongue was even more worthy of revere.

Reiko flipped over to her elbows. Her breasts brushed against the bedding, noticeably making Chrollo gulp. Reiko boldly reached to touch the front of his pants.

"You don't want a turn?" she smirked.

"This was more than enough for me."

He stared into her eyes as if he was calculating a complex math problem rather than looking at the girl who just received the best head of her life.

Reiko yawned, despite herself. Her body ached with all the action of the night.

"Go to bed, sweetheart. I'll be here."

Those were the last words she heard before her eyes drifted shut. Exhaustion stilled her naked body. Chrollo reached to turn off the bedside lamp.

He wasn't nearly as tired. He could've gone for a couple more rounds, perhaps take it a step further if Reiko so desired. But he knew she needed the sleep. Most of her makeup had rubbed off, displaying the dark circles under her eyes.

She must have not slept for a while. He wondered if it was his doing.

He hadn't been sleeping lately either. Ever since the painting theft, to be exact. The guilt ate at him in the late hours of the night. I shouldn't have used her like that. But why? What do I feel for her? Why do I feel for her, in particular?

He had a feeling this would be his first sound sleep for a long while.

He slipped off his pants and threw them onto the floor with the rest of the clothes. He found the soft sheets and pulled them across Reiko and himself. The bed was small but cozy. His strong chest was flush against her back.

Her soft brown hair smelt of a summer day, like sunlight and wildflowers. He took this opportunity to feel up the rest of her glorious body. He ran his hand lightly from her shoulder to her hip-dips, to her thighs. All of it was holy to him.

He moved her closer with his arm, protectively wrapping it across her front. Somehow holding her like this felt far more intimate than any sexual activity. The way the moonlight graced her skin was majestic.

How had he fallen so hard, so fast? It was unlike him to act with such recklessness.

Through it all, he still had his mind. Reiko had no way to tell the extent of his feelings. He made sure of this. His libido could act one way, that was clear from tonight. But he was an expert at controlling his outward emotions. She would never know. If she did, it would be over for him. All the planning will be for naught.

He closed his eyes before he could fall upon any more worries. He had already pondered the issue for many sleepless nights.

He fell into a dreamless slumber, Reiko safe in his arms. They both slept soundly until the sun peaked through the window, signaling the first day of the rest of their lives.

8 notes · View notes

skvaderarts · 3 years ago

Text

Hitaeth Chapter 45: Pastimes

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Forty-Five: Pastimes

Note: I rediscovered the Ghost in a Shell theme song Inner Universe last night at 4 am. Words are not enough to describe how it makes me feel. I just needed someone to know that. Enjoy the chapter.

(-~-)

They had long since passed the point of concern and fallen into the territory of worry.

Even equipped with the knowledge that time flowed differently in the underworld than it did in the human realm, and the reality that that was probably where he’d gone, the fact that the eldest Son of Sparda had been gone this long without a word was enough to make them worry. The young summoner has taken an impromptu trip furniture shopping just under a week ago, and today the furniture had been delivered for hell's sake. Where on earth had Vergil disappeared to?

V sat in the living room with Griffon, Shadow, and Flora, the latter of which was indulging in an interesting hobby for someone as young as she was: cross stitching. He’d been surprised to learn that she could do something like that in the first place, to be honest. V had never seen anyone aside from stereotypical older ladies indulge in such a practice, so it was a pleasant change of pace. She had also crocheted a few times as well, and her interests seemed to be split between them. But either way, he was intrigued by her skills.

Much to his fascination, she seemed to be able to do this while reading, using her abilities to turn the pages of the book and even move it a small distance. She’d even used her abilities to help move a few smaller pieces of furniture around the room when V had changed his mind on their placement and the movers had been long gone. It was the sort of ability that he would kill to have. He could only imagine how useful it would be to be able to read while he did random tasks around the house. He would get so much done!

From what he’d been told by her, it was extremely difficult to actually do what she did, and it had taken her years of practice to learn the fundamentals. She was only now going into more advanced studies, the very things she’d been reading up on while indulging in her hobbies. She’d also told him that his family's natural inclination towards things like air stepping, rappid dashing, and teleportation was genuinely fascinating to her since basically no one in her family knew how to do that without set doors to move them from place to place. From what he could tell, she lamented this somewhat, but was still clearly impressed by it. Perhaps it would be best to refrain from telling her that he could teleport. No need to get himself punched.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now what that scroll did.”

“You consented to have a spell placed over your home without understanding its effects first? Poor form.” She said with a mischievous smile, turning the page in the book and glancing over towards it as she continued her project. “No matter, I should have double-checked with you first. That’s my bad. It’s a general protection ward. Darkness cannot touch anything within the confines of this building. Think of it the way that movies always depict churches functioning. How demons cannot enter them because they are sacrosanct and such.”

He had to admit that was an interesting prospect. He hoped that it would actually work towards keeping demons at bay in the way that she had described. He was perfectly capable at holding his own in a fight with a few average demons, and didn’t have much trouble against some of the bigger ones, but that didn’t mean he wanted to have to fend them off every time that he left the house. They seemed to be attracted to him, and it probably wouldn’t be too difficult for them to just follow him home.

“So what in particular does it protect against? Just demons and the like? Or something else?”

“No, all manner of things. Fires, floods, pestilence. Anything unsightly. You name something run of the mill and it probably guards against it. And only those who you will to enter shall be able to step foot on the premises.” She sat the cross stitch project down and walked around the couch, en route to the kitchen. It was noon, and she would be remiss if she didn’t have a cup of tea.” It should significantly halt the progress of any negative effects placed on you as well. Can I get you anything?”

“One can only hope that the last thing you mentioned applies in this case.” He sighed softly, quietly acknowledging the fact that slowly but surely he did feel a change of some sort. It was hard to place exactly what it was going if anything, but he made a point of not dwelling on it. Anything that could slow the spread was welcome. “Nothing in particular. I’m open to recommendations.”

With a polite shrug and a nod, she headed towards the kitchen, leaving V alone with his thoughts and his familiars for a moment. He glanced over at Griffon, noting that the mouthy bird seemed to be snoozing on top of a pile of books that they had been sorting a short while ago. The pair had needed a break from that task, having spent the better part of the last week working on it. But at least they had reached the last box and he would soon be able to enjoy full shelves and rest his eyes before inevitably ruining them again with more reading. Perhaps another trip to Redgrave city could be in the cards at some point? Better yet, what had become of that flower that he’d brought Magnolia a while back? He had to remind himself to ask her about it. He couldn’t place why, but its omission from consciousness bothered him.

Peering over at the other end of the couch, he noticed that Shadow was awake now, the large panther seemingly just relaxing and enjoying the small amount of light that decorated the room they were in. It was a blissful sort of silence, the large panther clearly content with her current surroundings. He sometimes wondered what went on in her head. She was clearly an intelligent creature, equally as much as Griffon if not more so. She just couldn’t speak to him. And then there was the matter of his third familiar. What had become of Nightmare? It was something he thought about from time to time. Could he get him back? And would he have to endure the same treatment that he had the last time that he’d attempted to gain control over the demon?

He shuddered at the thought. He’d nearly died the first time…

After several minutes of blissful silence, she returned with a tray that held a tea set. She had borrowed it from Magnolia when she’d informed her that she might be staying for a little while and simply couldn’t live without access to the tea. V had welcomed the surprise edition to his basically nonexistent dish collection, even if it was only temporary. He enjoyed most hot drinks given the fact that he was basically always cold. He had no reason to turn down a good cup of tea.

“Do you feel weaker at all? Is there anything noticeably different?” She asked as she put down the tray and sat down on the other end of the couch. She seemed to pick up on the fact that something was off suddenly. A sudden shift in the atmosphere that she couldn’t place but knew originated from him. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, how else was she going to figure that out?

V looked at her quietly for what felt like forever but was actually just a few quiet seconds as he tried to figure out how to put what he felt into words. There was no pain, strangely enough, and there was no notable shift in his energy levels. He couldn’t say that he felt noticeably stronger or weaker. He just felt… different as though something had changed about him and he was searching every atom his body contained to try and figure it out. But regardless of the effort he put into doing that, he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“There is and there isn’t. I can’t say definitively. What I can say is that I hope this situation is taken care of before I am required to find out.” A pause then and then another sigh, as he took a sip of the tea that she had brought him. Whatever this was, it was delicious. “Perhaps it is simply knowing what may be over the horizon that’s the problem. Or it could be the not knowing. After all, how can I hope to know what Belial truly wants from me? I know it isn’t anything I want to have any part in, but aside from that, his mind is truly an enigma to me.”

She leaned over and rested her elbow on her shoulder, peering at him in a studied silence before recoiling slightly and leaning back against the couch. She too took a sip of her drink before placing it back on the shelf. It seemed that she was correct in her assumption that something might not be right, but not in the way that she had originally thought.

“You're having a hard time putting it into words, aren’t you?”

A nod then. Yes, he was having a problem doing that. It was strange to him how something as basic and nebulous as thinking about what the future might hold had such a profound negative effect on him that it genuinely unnerved him. Initially, he had assumed that it might be an effect of the curse, the negative influence of the devil prince weighing on him like a dark storm cloud looming in the distance, but the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if that was truly the case. Was it something more that he just couldn’t put his finger on?

“... Have you ever walked into a vast room filled with familiar objects, perhaps ones you placed their yourself and cross paths with often only to immediately know that something was out of place, but despite searching and searching in every conceivable spot that it could be, you found nothing and were forced to leave but unable to shake the fact that you know something isn’t right? And then you have to continue onward and the feeling starts to grow and grow until you just start to consider that maybe nothing was ever wrong in the first place and it was just you?”

She stared at him, not answering the question, but taking the time to think about what her answer might actually mean in the grand scheme of things. Was “loaded question” the correct term to use for something like that? No, this was much too personal and borderline philosophical for that to be the case. This had more to do with him than it did the effects of the curse. Perhaps the curse was causing him to dwell on things that he shouldn’t but she wondered if that was the actual cause of whatever thoughts had led him to saying something like that.

“When you say that, are you talking about the effect that the devil prince has over you that you can’t identify, or are you talking about yourself?”

For a moment, V just sat there. He was genuinely unsure as to how he could answer that question. He’d just considered that same thing in his own way, but hadn’t realized that it was the question he’d asked himself. Seconds turned into minutes as he just sat there, trying to place the part of his brain that might contain that answer. When nothing came to him, he simply sighed and decided to try his very best to actually put what he thought into words. He doubted that it would make any sense, but it was the only thing he could do at this point.

“Both, I suppose. I have my own personal issues to attend to. There is no denying that… but this situation certainly isn’t helping.”

“Understandable.” She said, taking a final sip of her tea. She then poured another, and began fixing it the way that she liked. “Then let’s do everything we can to get it sorted out. I have a feeling that things are going to work themselves out.”

V wasn’t entirely sure why her words affected him the way that they did, but he believed her. Perhaps it was because that was all that he could do right now. He had to continue to hold it together until his father returned, and then they could pitch the idea they had to him. All he had to do now was wait and keep calm in spite of his situation. From what he understood, it took about six weeks for his father and uncle to return from the underworld the first time, and they thought that they had only been gone for a few days. It was highly possible that Vergil simply hadn’t noticed the passage of time like they had. He would just continue to wait and see what happened.

The young summoner knew that he probably wouldn’t say as much, but he was glad that Flora was here to keep him company. He’d probably go crazy if he was forced to sit inside for his safety all day with just his familiars to keep him company. He adored them, but there was some merit to having a companion around, at least once in a while. In moderation, well, it was fine. But frequently? He’d literally move house before he’d accept the presence of constant, uninvited company.

But just as that thought entered his mind, a cold chill crawled up his spine. He had a strange feeling that something was wrong, and this time, it wasn’t anything having to do with him. Something was coming. He could just feel it.

(-~-)

“Honestly Dante, I’m never going to understand why you even try to play poker with me. You already know what’s going to happen.”

Cards hit the worn surface of the fold-out card table as Patty reached across the space between them and slid the black and red pieces towards her, shaking her head as she did so. Dante had never once succeeded in beating her, and it was mind-boggling to her that he still tried. At first, she had assumed that he had been allowing her to beat him as a young child, but as the years passed, she realized that he genuinely just sucked at any form of gambling.”

“You know, Patty, I was just thinking the same thing,” Trish said with a nonchalant shrug as she took another bite of the pizza that sat on the owner of the devil hunting establishment’s desk in the middle of the room. They had brought over a few after finishing up a job for Morrison. It was probably best to come over and pay their longtime friend a visit and distract Dante for a few minutes, at least from what Nero had told them when they had called to see how he was doing.

According to the youngest of the Sparda descendant quartet, Dante was only barely hiding the fact that he was actually starting to wonder where Vergil had gone off to and what he had managed to get himself mixed up with this time. How was he supposed to rest easy knowing that he could literally be anywhere doing anything? Vergil was capable and had certainly been through worse, but his previous track record with his brother proved that he wasn’t as indestructible as either of them would like to believe. And the fact that he had left angry hadn’t helped, either.

“Look Vergil… just come back already. You’ve gotta stop doing this to me. I’m getting too old to be worrying about you like this. And you’ve got kids. And grandkids. They all need you back here. Just… ”

Dante thought to himself quietly, wondering if anyone noticed his intermittent silence. He smirked, shaking his head playfully as Patty stole all the chips yet again, only half paying attention to the game in the first place. He saw what his friends were trying to do, and he certainly did appreciate it, but he couldn’t help but worry over his twin. They had made quite a bit of progress in the short time that they had been back. Well, it was a short time in comparison to the lifetime that they had spent apart, but either way, not very long. It seemed unlike him these days to just leave and not say anything at all.

… Now he knew how Nero must have felt when he did that very same thing to him and left for six weeks to take a scenic tour of the underworld with Vergil. In retrospect, that had been a massive dick move, leaving him at the top of the Qliphoth to clean up the mess and wonder for the rest of his life if they would ever return. He hadn’t meant to do that to him, but it didn’t change the fact that that was actually what he’d done. Once Vergil returned and they all met up again, he would have to say as much. And he would return. Somewhere deep down, he just knew it. In one form or another, he always did. But for now, he would allow him to enjoy his peace and quiet with his family. He probably needed them now more than ever.

“I wonder how that brother of yours would do in a game against me? Do you think he’d win?” Patty said, making a funny face at Dante, clearly trying to snap him out of the slump he was in. He could only hide it so well, and in that moment that he had allowed his mind to wander, he had returned to a dark place that he didn’t like to visit. One that reminded him of when he had first met the lovely young blond girl.

“Absolutely not.” He said, noticing for a moment that his older twin would have probably said the very same should he have been there. He absolutely hated to lose, and despite the fact that he was certain that he had no idea how to play, he knew that he was pretty enough to learn just for this occasion. Or would that be driven? A mixture of both, then.

“Now that is something I would pay to see,” Lady announced from the other side of the room, laughing to herself as she stopped leaning on the desk and headed over towards the couch. Lucia shook her head and retracted her legs to provide her with room to sit. Dante had a comfortable couch, and she had made herself comfortable on it. Watching Dante play games with his young blond friend brought a happy smile to her face. She could tell that there was quite a bit of history between him and everyone in this room. It was good to know that he had so many friends that cared about him.

Even though I am not one for bets, especially coin tosses'' She shot Dante a fake grumpy glare, barely hiding the blush that formed on her face as he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I wouldn’t mind taking that one.”

Both Lady and Trish shared a slightly wide-eyed glance between one another before looking at Lucia and then Dante. The three women then locked eyes and held their gazes for a moment before Lady shook her head and Trish just closed her eyes and laughed a bit to herself. Dante stared at all three of them in confusion, not noticing the mouth agape stare that was plastered across Patty’s face. But to be fair, that wasn’t the only thing he didn’t notice.

Across the office, the distant sound of a low, barely audible sound became noticeable, stopping every few moments before continuing, barely louder each consecutive time. The door was locked due to the fact that they were closed for the time being, so it could literally have been anything from a stray cat to a random member of the public who had wandered in off of the street. But after a moment, each set of eyes in the building started to drift towards the door. They all seemed to feel the strange pull that drew their collective attention towards it.

It was a sort of nebulous empty feeling that lined the bottom of their stomachs and made them strangely uneasy. It grew with every passing second until Dante stood up and the rest of them slowly inched towards their weapons, silently preparing for… something. Lucia grabbed Patty and gently pulled her to the side, tucking her between the couch and the stairs as far as she could from the door, and both of the other girls retrieved their larger weapons.

Lady checked the chamber on her newly upgraded rocket launcher that she had finally retrieved from Dante, and Trish opted to fish a random blade out of the storage closet across the hallway through the back door that faced Vergil’s room. For a moment she thought it was Alastor, but she couldn’t be sure. Her mind was elsewhere. Whatever Devil Arm it was, it would work for now. And if it didn’t, then her lightning and guns would have to do the trick.

Moment’s later, there was a feeble knock at the door. It was louder this time than it had been, or that could have just been the lack of sound in the room now. Even the Jukebox had switched off, hitting its last track. An uncomfortable hushed silence fell over the room. Then, a loud slam and a thump followed by silence. And before any of them could move, something caught their eye. A thick, red substance pooled under the door.

(-~-)

Gah! Sorry, this chapter is SEVERAL hours late. I overslept again. Until like 9 pm. And hadn't finished it. What even is my life lol. This is what running a Minecraft server has done to me lol. Anyone looking to join lol?! Either way, see you in the comment section! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and see you next Wednesday!

#Hiraeth #V #My Post Devil May Cry 5 AU #Dante #Lady #Patty #Lucia #Trish #MY OCs #Devil May Cry 5 #Devil May Cry V #Devil May Cry #DMC

2 notes · View notes

mejomonster · 4 years ago

Note

Some people working at Tencent have watched some episodes for Hyx and, apparently, the first episode starts like the first chapter in the book, with Moran dying of poison, they said they have watched the 2 weddings, and there's a leak with Taxian Jun torturing Chu Wanning instagram.com/p/CMSfvsigKhk/?igshid=mqs72wd9dna8 also, do you know why Taxian Jun was the way he was? Because *nervous laughter* you might want to continue reading that book and not, Shimei dying might be what made him snap but, the actual reason is so much worse than that.

*rough spoilers for 2ha in this whole post PLEASE look away if u don’t want them*

i roughly know that shimei did something with a flower and mo ran let it happen to protect chu wanning but it made mo ran think he loved shi mei or something. i know that much spoilers. i know mo ran, despite being a great evil character arc to decent, actually got fucked over to become that unhinged. and shi mei is a bad guy. and??? i think possibly does shi mei love chu wanning??? (as in fucking obsessed not nice love). do NOT answer that i’ll find out. although if true i find it hilarious that of chu wanning’s disciples we got: xue meng who loves him as a shizun and utterly idol worships him as a hero and is a very faithful disciple traditional type, then we got mo ran who loves him dearly in every way and wants to rail him (and also is Evil Villain as Evil Emperor at Some Point once in some life so he was evil villain in ‘obsession’ with Chu Wanning who wanted to rail and love him senseless). **Then we got Shi Mei who is Actually the Villain who wanted Chu Wanning desperately (its not love when its that fucked up but maybe shi mei calls it love). **this last part is my assumption since i am going on rough af spoilers.

anyway i just. think its so funny chu wanning got the MOST extra disciples fucking ever. His disciples are just kinda unhinged. totally past chill eons ago. xue meng is the most normal one and he’s like the most hardcore dedicated disciple Ever in that first life evil-emperor-Mo-Ran timeline, and pretty dang dedicated and hero worship in the next one.

also it is likely TOO late for me to read farther into the book before it airs ToT because i plan to reread from chapter 1 so. i doubt i’m reading more than 120 chapters before it airs ;-;. especially since im in the middle of some other books. but. eventually yeah. i cannot wait to see everything the book holds ToT

2 ok cool if it opens on evil emperor first life i am Thrilled. its a really good novel opening. i just wasn’t sure if with weird ‘how much mo ran redoing the timeline’ writing changes would have to change some of the scene placements.

the 2 weddings the 2 weddings the 2 weddings im losing it aaaaaaaaahhh

i really really hope the show is good. the book was so good. oh man. please. even if there’s only some good scenes like the book it. its gonna overwhelm me. ahhhhhhhhh

#2ha #replies #ask #anonymous #hyx #immortality #im so excited if i even think about it i !!!!#the thing is i want a trailer desperately #but also i never ever watch trailers for THIS reason #if the actual thing is not out yet i get too excited #also do not tell me ANY spoilers about shi mei ok #i have a weird patchwork of spoilers and guesses i made from it #and i personally love my guesses rn so. lets not shatter them til i read #i hope shi mei is the villain. i hope hes fucking obsessed with having chu wanning.#cause the idea ALL THREE OF CWN'S DISCIPLES SO ATTACHED TO HIM IS so fucking funny #like intensely funny to me #its gonna make me cry probably but in Concept its funny

1 note · View note

baddyxangel · 4 years ago

Text

Go is not like chess. Chess is a battle, Go is a war. Go is played by laying stones on the intersections of lines that form the board, or Goban’s, grid – these are called Moku and represent 1 territory. The two players take opposing sides and unlike chess in Go black goes first but white is awarded a ½ moku handicap, because Go is a game of skill players can be awarded up to twenty stones handicap, and it can be played on three sizes of board. A master might play with a neophyte in a game called Shidou-Go where the point is not to win but to teach. Go is unique in this. Play falls into two forms, Gote and Sente, or aggressive and defensive play, it is generally the player who stays in Gote (aggressive) longest who wins the game. When the board is full (the other way to win is if the other play concedes due to a lack of territory and being unable to catch up) the moku are marked with stones to make them easier to count, the person with the most moku wins. However, again unlike Chess, Go presents the possibility of the Divine Move, sometimes called The Hand of God, a move so out of left field and amazing it turns the game around and takes a player from Sente to Gote. A divine move is considered so rare that professional Go players might go their whole lifetime without one being played – not that they might not see it played against them, but it won’t even be played in their lifetime. Yet a Divine Move might not win the game, it just turns the game from crushing defeat to offer a hope. Understanding Go and how it’s played it becomes apparent how very rare it is. Now, like Chess, Go is rarely played with the move at hand, it’s played as many moves ahead as is possible and between two equals in skill it’s the one how plays that one move more that wins. It becomes a matter of if I move here, he’ll move there, which mean I can move there and he’ll move there and I can then capture that territory for example. A reactionary player will get crushed – speaking from experience. So the idea that Stiles was sat at that Goban playing against the Nogitsune was ludicrous, where a child who knows the moves could possibly beat a chess grand master it wouldn’t happen with Go, and it was a full sized board. I can’t look at the board and say who was winning, I can’t look at finished games and tell you who won without counting off the stones, and until the game is considered complete it can go either way in the placement of a single stone. It’s not like Chess at all in that, so although people could look at the chess board and point out the errant pieces we cannot simply do that with Go, so the point becomes not the moves that are played but who is playing them. Now when Derek rebuilt the chessboard he had seen in Stiles’ bedroom Peter distinctly said “chess was Stiles’ game” and he was right. Stiles admitted in 3a that he could play chess (badly, it was his father’s game) and Go is a game that takes years to master. When Noshiko tried to teach Kira Go Mr Yukimura was able to immediately tell who was who by the style of play and Kira was playing against the Nogitsune – her mother. And that was the final piece I needed, the Divine Move I needed to process the information. Noshiko is the Nogitsune, she always was. A nogitsune is not necessarily evil, it can’t be, it’s not subject to our morality. It is a trickster and vampiric in nature, feeding on chaos, but the only thing that separates a nogitsune from a kitsune is the affiliation to O-Inari. A nogitsune is a free kitsune. Now, a nogitsune is a trickster and because it’s tricks don’t share our morality they might seem needlessly cruel. The old example is if you asked a kitsune (or nogitsune) to make you richer than Bill Gates it would bankrupt Bill Gates so you had more money than him. If a kitsune affiliated with a family saw that the family were poor it would steal money not understanding that this was wrong. Noshiko, in her flashback, incites the riot. Satomi, the wolf lady, tells her that her mischief will end badly but she does it anyway. When the riot happens it gets out of control and Rhys is immolated and Noshiko herself is shot. On the way to death she begs her ancestors to send a powerful Nogitsune but there is no evidence that they did, she merely assumed that they did. Instead Void showed up. It’s quite obvious in retrospect, when the Nogitsune appeared to Stiles it begged him for permission to possess him, but there was no way that it could possess Rhys the same way, it needed permission which Noshiko knew because she offered it to the spirits of her ancestors. So it couldn’t have been a Nogitsune that possessed Rhys, also look at it’s actions, it didn’t play pranks or get even, it slaughtered everyone who came near. There are many shows I would discount it as bad writing but not Teen Wolf, so I just looked more closely. I knew by that point there was a second possessing force, Void, so it was easy to make the leap that Void possessed Rhys, but Void was antagonistic to Noshiko, after all she had trapped it, and this explained why she summoned the Oni to destroy it. We knew it couldn’t be a Nogitsune that was possessing Stiles because of how easily it destroyed the Oni and how easily the Oni had killed the Nogitsune before in Chris’ flashback – therefore it had to be something else and something more powerful – ergo Void. But, we had seen the Nogitsune ask for and gain possession, not once but twice, so we knew that Stiles WAS possessed by the Nogitsune and that the Nogitsune for reasons was appearing as Rhys (looking exactly like the Batman Villain Hush, a character who works primarily on misdirection btw) If we turn our attention back to Noshiko we find inconsistencies, she said she was 900 years old which means she would have 9 Kaiken, she had spaces for 9 in the book but we actually only see 8, the original five Oni, the two she summoned to replace those who were killed and the Kaiken that Void uses to take control of the Oni. So where was the ninth? I think she used it to summon the Nogitsune that possessed Stiles, adoppelgänger form of herself to possess Stiles and she did it to defeat Void. This is where Go becomes important. When Scott and Lydia entered the dreamscape they saw Stiles sitting on the Nemeton playing Go with the Nogitsune, but we’ve already proved Stiles couldn’t play Go against a master, it wouldn’t be a competition, so we have to make the assumption it wasn’t Stiles that was playing Go, that means it was Void. The Nogitsune appeared at the coyote den when Stiles went missing, and this is a good example of the Nogitsune fighting Void. Void wants despair, and by taking Stiles to the coyote den Stiles was meant to die, by alerting Scott and setting up a manhunt it was meant to show them fail. It was only luck that Rafael McCall found him, it wasn’t planned that way, we know that because the Nogitsune asked for possession his exact words “we’re trying to save your life, Stiles.” Now imagine for a moment that Agent McCall had not found him in time, imagine the despair that would have wreaked the town, Scott, Derek, the sheriff would all have lost hope. The brain scans happened before the Nogitsune took possession in the machine, and the cable was doctored before then. If the Nogitsune HAD possession it wouldn’t have needed permission. This is when they start playing Go, the Nogitsune and Void are playing against each other, using Stiles as their Goban. Possessed Stiles went to see Mr Yukimura and caused a fly to go inside Mr Yukimura forcing Noshiko to go to the school to expel it. This meant that Noshiko told Scott in front of Mr Yukimura who urged her to be more honest. But the point of it from Void’s perspective was simple – the sword was broken and couldn't be used to defeat him this time. This would cause despair. This then became the Nogitsune’s move. The Nogitsune knew Kira was a thunder kitsune and could reforge the sword, thus preventing Void’s move and setting up an attack of his own, but it had it’s downsides, Nogitsune knew that Noshiko, seeing the photo, would go to the basement and take the Kaiken with her – thus revealing the Kaiken to Void. Ie the move that Void had put in play to get the Kaiken directly was thwarted but everything was in place for it to get it another way. But with Nogitsune still in control when Noshiko appeared in the basement it used the Kaiken to expel the flies seemingly working for Void but preventing it taking the Oni that early. And although Void could control a corpse – possibly part of it’s idea for killing Stiles – because it controlled Rhys, Nogitsune could create a double so when Scott and Lydia faced it at the nemeton in the dreamscape it did that – which of them made that move I don’t know because it helped both of them – but it meant that the Shugendo scroll suddenly applied. A fox could possess a wolf, but the fox’s fake body was entirely that of a fox and it couldn’t sustain the bite. But look at how Nogitsune acted in the dreamscape, it drove Lydia to the double doors- it pushed her to the solution. The same thing happened in the illusion with Stiles, in pressing Stiles to kill himself it gave him the sword’s reflection allowing him to see that it was an illusion – all without revealing to Void it was working to SAVE Stiles. That was the Divine Move, not that Stiles overcame the illusion, but that the nogitsune managed to play void to the point where it could both be captured and destroyed. The nogitsune’s false body was susceptible to the sword meaning that Void could not maintain it and the sword expelled it, and it did it all without revealing to Void that it was antagonistic. Void wasn’t affected by the bite – but the Nogitsune’s own body was. Nogitsune wouldn’t be affected by the sword – but Void was. It had to be both or Void wouldn’t have tried to escape to be caught in the jar. The victor of the game wasn’t Void who threw aside the pieces in the dreamscape, but Nogitsune who played that many more moves ahead. Nogitsune sacrificed the Oni to get the flies out of Stiles, Nogitsune who led Stiles and Lydia to save themselves. Nogitsune who played consistently in Gote was revealed to be leading Void into the moves it needed to gain final victory. A divine move indeed. And the biggest hint that Noshiko was the Nogitsune was in her interactions with possessed Stiles, and possessed Stiles’ own words. Noshiko recognised Void in the hospital and spoke of it’s choice of host and how it wouldn’t stop her, this was just after Nogitsune had been given possession. It could be argued that she knew because of the killing on the Oni but why wait until afterwards to confront him. Noshiko could play Go. Noshiko was nice to unpossessed Stiles. So we had a kitsune of indeterminate type who had both a vendetta against the force that killed Rhys and could play Go – and then Stiles’ own words – you can’t trust a fox, they’ll trick you every time. It’s unclear if it was Nogitsune speaking here but it is clear that it wasn’t really aimed at Scott at all. If it was Nogitsune it was telling Scott that it would defeat Void and if it was Void it was telling Scott it couldn’t trust Nogitsune – but in reality it was the warning that the fox would always come out triumphant – and that is the moral of Japanese Fox myths = you don’t mess with foxes they always win. The Go game was between Noshiko – Nogitsune and Void, Nogitsune tricked Void and defeated it by showing Stiles how to defeat it and creating the fake body.

#stiles stilinski

1 note · View note

evajellion · 4 years ago

Text

2020 vidya ranking: #2 Fire Emblem Three Houses

The first game I played starting in 2020, and the first Fire Emblem game I also ever played. It was released a year before, but hey-- this list is based off of what I played, not what came out this year.

And if the placement was not obvious enough, it left an impression.

Lemme make a confession-- I only tried this game out after Byleth was revealed in Smash Ultimate. I had no interest in the game prior, especially since the english VA for male Byleth was a complete creep. Thankfully, he did get replaced later on, but I still had no interest trying the game.

When Byleth got revealed for Smash, a wave of anger flooded the internet. I wasn’t exactly too impressed either, and honestly… Sakurai’s attempt at trying to show off Fire Emblem this late into the franchise’s life… was not a good way to sell people on this game. Sorry Sakurai, you’re a great guy! Just not a good advertiser, and obviously a majority were less willing to try FE after that.

So what made me change my mind? Well, it was none other than Alpharad’s video, who was happy about Byleth being in because he said Three Houses was great, but admitted it was poor execution. Byleth wasn’t a bad character, it was just the unfortunate burden to carry right after Corrin and Chrom. Apparently this character was even planned to be in Ultimate sooner, but was pushed back due to 3H being delayed.

From there, I watched a video of Alpharad actually playing the game, and… I liked what I saw! So good job, Alpha, you did a better job at selling Fire Emblem to me than Nintendo did, evidently he should be given royalties for it.

I bought the game about a month before my birthday, just a bit before Byleth’s DLC would even come out, and just before COVID struck. I had no idea what I was getting into-- I was nervous actually, because I didn’t know if I would like the gameplay, even if Alpha made the game look pretty enjoyable.

So there are three houses (but in actuality, there are four routes plus one more if you wanna burn $30), your silent, mercenary protagonist is tasked with becoming a teacher for one of said houses. Black Eagles, Blue Lions, and Golden Deer. I already knew what was going to happen in Black Eagles (haha no I didn’t), so I went the Blue Lions route, because I figured Dimitri would be the generic one to start off with, that and I liked the students there.

About ten hours into the game, I realized how dead wrong I was to make the assumptions I did, because the Blue Lions route tore my goddamn heart out.

When was the last time I actually cried over a video game of all things? I think it was The Legend of Dragoon, that game kept tugging me like a fiddle to the point where I was at tears.

I made the mistake of not recruiting anyone because I was nervous. It was a mistake that I came to regret during the half-way point. Felix kept being rude to Dimitri for some reason, and I figured he was blowing it out of proportion until I got to that point. I wanted to protect just about every goddamn character in my first playthrough!

I ended up venting to my friends who had zero interest in the game about it, which I’m sure was annoying as all hell, but that’s how much this game ended up making me feel. Dimitri is probably one of my favorite Fire Emblem characters ever (followed up by Seteth and Marianne), and the worst part is I don’t wanna say why for people who hadn’t played this game.

Can I mention the soundtrack for this game too? No, really, the composers knew how to make this game’s OST emotional. It’s an absolute crime that God Shattering Star wasn’t in Smash Ultimate, and I don’t care if it was for spoiler reasons.

Gameplay is as refined as it gets here. Sure, you sometimes have an annoying system with the larger monsters, but of all the FE games this one is probably the best for beginners. This game also handles your same-sex relations better than Fates did, thank god. Sure, it’s not perfect like Story of Seasons, but I’ll take it!

My only criticisms are that some of the routes… feel unpolished. This is because, the game wasn’t exactly finished, which is a bit obvious since the graphic quality doesn’t match other Switch titles. Apparently, the writers were having trouble during the Golden Deer and Black Eagles routes. There was also this character known as the Death Knight, who I adore, but it took until an update for the developers to remember he was in the game at all and make him a playable character. (thankfully, that was also the last route I needed to do)

Why is the game unfinished? Well, it had already gone through delays, I imagine Nintendo wanted it out by summer time because any later is the season where they wanna shill Pokémon or something. But this is a situation similar to The Wind Waker where even though a lot of stuff went unfinished, the game is a fantastic gem.

I’ve rambled far enough. If you somehow haven’t gotten this game yet, I highly recommend it, play through it blind so you can really get the story experience… juuuust be wary of the price tag. See if you can get a good deal on it.

And yet, there’s one game that I liked more than this. One I would personally say, should have been a part of GOTY in 2019.

#fire emblem #fire emblem three houses

1 note · View note

introvert-celeste · 5 years ago

Note

Do you have an issues going on with jasper and why it seems like she's getting shafted despite being talked about a bunch of times by RS in the past and the fact that they are possibly not going to address the lapis and bismuth situation and it's possibly resolved off screen in the time skip and it's going to be a barn situation (peridot and lapis becoming friends quickly despite lapis really hated her) which is probably why some people are turned off by seeing peridot, lapis and bismuth togeth?

Oh, anon, anon, anon...you brought this upon yourself. Now you have to listen to my long ass theory about how jasper, Lapis, and Bismuth are all connected and that connection lies in Beta. I don’t feel like linking to all the other posts I’ve done on it, simply because I don’t feel like digging them up, so you’re about to get the long explanation.

Now, do I have a problem how the show is currently treating Jasper? No, not really. Not anymore. I’ve become jaded by her absence and I can stand to wait a little longer if I have to. I would love to see her as soon as possible, but I don’t think her presence...fits with the movie. I mean, she’s still technically an antagonist. Nothing has been resolved with her.

Do I have a problem with Lapis and Bismuth’s miraculously friendly relationship, despite the fact that Bismuth poofed Lapis, which inadvertently led to her being trapped in the mirror for thousands of years? No, because Rebecca confirmed today at SDCC that Lapis doesn’t know that our Bismuth was the one who poofed her (it also confirms that that was our Bismuth, which was never explicitly stated previously).

With that out of the way, I begin.

It all starts 5750 years ago, when Blue Diamond showed up with her entourage to deal with Rose Quartz and her “small but persistent” rebellion, which was basically just her and Pearl wrecking shit. Among her entourage is a gem that looks like Lapis, same gem placement, hair shape, everything.

Lapis claims in Same Old World that “we” (suggesting she was a part of group) “were only supposed to visit for a short time” (meaning Blue Diamond expected to capture Rose Quartz quickly), so it fits in with the previous assumption. She goes on to say “but we got caught in the middle of the war.”

Keep in mind that the rebellion prior to the events in The Answer consisted only of Rose/Pink and Pearl, the only gem she could trust. Pink was fight solely for the Earth and it’s organic inhabitants against gemkind. After she met Garnet, she realized that gems like her are also worth fighting for, so she would have likely started accepting more gems into her group, starting with Garnet. More gems means stronger forces, and stronger forces of gems who have been abused by Homeworld in ways Pink probably wasn’t even aware of meant a bad time for Homeworld. Rose’s little rebellion grew into an all out war.

Peridot says in Beta that “halfway through the rebellion, Homeworld scrambled to generate extra soldiers on the ground.” The rebellion began ~6000 years ago and ended a thousand years later, so halfway would have been ~5500 years ago, which is when Jasper was born. Well, that’s when she started fighting against the Crystal Gems, according to the Guide to the Crystal Gems, but considering Eyeball said that Jasper “came out with [her] helmet on and shattered 80 Crystal Gems before the sun went down!” I think we can reasonably assume Jasper was born in the middle of a battle.

5500 years ago also lines up with the Lapis’ claim that she was “caught in the middle of the war,” a quote that corresponds with the lower image of the two above. 5500 years ago is 250 years after the events of The Answer. To spare you any more unnecessary elaboration, my theory is that the Crystal Gems grew rapidly after Rose met Garnet, and Blue Diamond employed her own entourage to help create more Homeworld soldiers on Earth. The Beta kindergarten strongly resembles Antelope Canyon, which is shaped by yearly flooding, so I’d say Lapis is pretty qualified to help cut this kindergarten.

As you can see, the top image shows Lapis in a green landscape, corresponding with her first assertion that she was “only supposed to visit for a short time.” The second image, meant to be the same location, it rocky and barren, telltale signs of a kindergarten that has sucked the life from the surrounding area. There is also the outline of what appears to be an injector in the bottom right corner and, most obviously,a group of Jaspers running in the background. Immediately after this image, a couple of the Jaspers actually explode into shards. Not poofed, because there is no orange smoke. Only a bright flash of light and bits of rock, whether from the gem or from the ground, flying up into the air.

Here’s when Jasper was poofed for reference.

So, it wasn’t just a battle...it was massacre. Sure, Jasper “took out” more than her fair share of Crystal Gems, and I’m sure her fellow Betas had few scruples over shattering the gems that were attacking them fresh out of the ground, but from how Peridot was trashing it, saying it was “too small” and “obviously a total rush job,” I doubt it would have been hard to shatter them. The way she criticizes the shape and locations of the exit holes suggests that the vast majority of the Betas were defective, with Jasper being the overly perfect exception. We also have to consider who else was present.

As I mentioned before, Rebecca confirmed that this was our Bismuth. As we know, Bismuth isn’t opposed to shattering, not like Rose. While I don’t think she’s a ruthless murderer--after all, she didn’t damage Lapis’ gem here--she’s far from a passive fighter. Bismuth has led a life of hardship, and she was among gems who also led lives of hardship, and Beta was Homeworld’s newest military tactic. To quote Greg, “there’s no such thing as a good war.” That’s only bolstered by the fact that the first time Beta was even mentioned was in It Could Have Been Great, when Peridot pointed it out as the Cluster’s insertion point. You know, THE CLUSTER, as in the gigantic ball of gem shards deep in the Earth’s mantle? That Cluster. Beta is where it was inserted into the ground, which implies that there was such an excess of gem shards that, combined, they could eventually create an entity that would destroy the planet just by forming. I’m sorry, that just...it’s truly upsetting.

That being said, I believe that this is one of the reasons Beta hasn’t been talked about in the show yet, besides via Peridot’s third-party perspective. She didn’t even exist then. It isn’t something anyone wants to talk about, whether out of shame or grief. Many, many gems on both sides were likely shattered there.

SO, what does all of this mean?

It means that no, I don’t think Jasper is being shafted, although I do with they would have addressed all of this earlier, at least some of it. I think the right time hasn’t happened yet, and that nothing has been resolved. Lapis doesn’t know who Bismuth really is, so there really isn’t anything to resolve until they start talking about what happened at Beta which, as I mentioned, doesn’t seem like the sort of thing the gems who experienced it would bring up in casual conversation. It would be a heavy topic.

And as I’ve speculated, I seriously doubt Jasper took the news about Pink Diamond well. She has a history of running off on her own, and Beta is the only logical location for her to go at this point. It was where she was made, and it’s not a place where anyone else is bound to go, given it’s history. I believe this is where the Beta discussion will begin: when they specifically go out looking for Jasper and she reveals the awful truth of the place. That will lead to discussion of Lapis and Bismuth’s involvement, as well as Bismuth’s inadvertent responsibility for Lapis’ suffering.

Unlike before, we’re now in a position where we can hear all three sides of the story. Bismuth is unbubbled, is on friendly terms with everyone, and has made peace with what happened with Rose. Lapis no longer has an incentive to run away, now that the Diamonds aren’t threats, and has time to settle into the family dynamic. Jasper is uncorrupted, but otherwise at her most vulnerable, now that she knows that Rose Quartz, the gem that basically ruined her life, was also the gem jasper has wanted to avenge since she was “shattered.” She won’t do anything to hurt Steven, now that she knows who he really is, and he’s more likely to get an honest answer out of her. Think of all the backstory that was necessary to get to this point and you will find that they really couldn’t have done this any earlier without taking away from it.

So, while I am dying to see Jasper again, I don’t want her to be in the movie. I want them to save her for season 6, when we can have a proper arc for her, like she deserves, and I want Bismuth and Lapis to be a part of this arc. I want them to shed some light on Beta.

#steven universe #asks #su spoilers #jasper #lapis lazuli #bismuth #theories #beta raid theory #tagging for future use #I like to refer to this theory a lot and this makes it easier to find

98 notes · View notes

schtroumpf-a-lunettes · 5 years ago

Text

Smurf Village Upturned, Chapter 13

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12

Read on: AO3 | FF.net | This post

PART TWO: A VILLAGE OVERTURNED

Looking back much, much later, Brainy was able to piece together much of what must have happened that day – as well as the chain of events that probably took place for things to turn out as they did. He was able to make an educated assumption on what it must have been like for Roesia, too. The glowing smurfs' luminescence finally became visible to the average eye, and said smurfs were propelled by magical force into Roesia's special little part of the forest, a portion of the ground waiting for each of them. Before long, they were all lined up in place, forming a circle around her with each smurf equally spaced apart. Papa Smurf and Hefty were the first glowing smurfs to arrive who were not already present, apparently. Vanity and Clumsy's sudden hope for a rescue was quickly quashed upon realising that those two were just as trapped as they were. He was there too, of course – Brainy was trapped just like them, but his enchanted glasses meant that it was a fact hardly registered by his conscious self. No, only a subconscious force reigned at that time – one the other smurfs would describe to him as having been "eerie". But once all of the glowing smurfs that Roesia sought were finally in place, Brainy could imagine that she probably started getting very excited, perhaps as giddy as a child on their birthday. She did not think, after all, that this was going to be her last day. No, as far as she was concerned, she was close, so very close to getting exactly what she wanted.

It was Vanity who'd had the “bright” idea of throwing a rock at Brainy's head. Well, at his glasses, to be more precise. None of them could safely move from their spots on the ground, and it was obvious that continuing to wear them would be bad news. Needless to say, Vanity succeeded in knocking the glasses from his face in a rather painful manner, and that's the point where Brainy's properly fleshed-out memories finally rejoin him, for better or for worse. Upon being separated from those cursed glasses, he was back – back to normal, and with no clue what was going on at that. It was all a confused mess – without his glasses the world was a blur. He didn't quite know where he was and there were voices all around him. He took a single step forward as he tried to gather his bearings, and then immediately leapt into the air with a howl. He'd stepped outside the designated markings on the ground that he wasn't even aware of and could not see, and retaliation had been swift in the form of searing pain. Luckily it was over as quickly as it had begun once he was back in place, confused and not daring to try moving again. "Why are you still conscious?" someone had demanded of him. It had been Roesia. Brainy could hardly know how to begin answering such a strange question. "The markings, you should have…" her voice trailed off, and then, after that, evidently she had turned her attention towards other matters instead. "You know, Roesia," Vanity's voice had cut through the cacophony of everyone present, "I have been meaning to ask about this glowing. I know I tend to have a natural shine about me, but something tells me that this is a little more than that." "Oh, well, it's from a vast build-up of accumulated temporal magic! I've never seen such huge concentrations in a single being my entire life, let alone a group like this… You all must have had quite some experiences among yourselves." Roesia's reply made it sound as if she were excited to share this knowledge. She really had been getting ahead of herself. Vanity ploughed on, probably in an attempt to distract her so that someone would perhaps come up with some way of escaping this mess. "You never did answer our question, either. Why did you give Brainy and I the insight?" A quick laugh. "Well, why not? Isn't sharing a good thing?" Obviously, she had given them insight in order to help with furthering her own goals, although it ultimately wouldn't have made a difference in the end. It had been an easy way to make sure that all of the smurfs she needed were accounted for… which would have been more difficult if she couldn't see the whole village and its occupants with her own eyes to verify who glowed and who didn't. That, and she had no doubt been genuinely curious what effects passing on the insight to them would have - a fun little experiment from her point of view. If there were more words exchanged between Roesia and Vanity, he hadn't heard them at that time, because Clumsy had addressed him directly. How had the conversation gone? "Brainy? You alright?" "Oh, the insight," he whispered to Clumsy miserably once he heard the nearby voice, "I never even got to see myself with it." "I wouldn't worry too much, Brainy, I don't think that's such a big deal," Clumsy tried, replying gently. "Oh, but it is! Vanity is so stubborn sometimes. If only you had been given the insight…" "Ah, I'm not sure I'd have use for a fancy thing like that. I feel like, maybe the stuff in other smurfs' minds, should probably stay there, you know?" "You could've told me what you saw, if you had it…" Brainy insisted. Clumsy smiled. "I don't need a special vision to understand my friend – you don't need special powers to figure yourself out, either. That's somethin' you're 'sposed to do on your own." Silence followed, as Brainy took those words in. "That was so… profound of you to say." It was just after this exchange that Roesia started to make her intent clear. She wanted all of their time magic, wanted it for herself. The stuff that had become attached to their essences, presumably as they put the time crystals to use, which was not normally visible to the average eye. But for Roesia, with her special vision? They might as well have been stars burning brightly in the night sky. "Are you connected to Balthazar?" Brainy had heard Papa Smurf demand as he felt around for his glasses. "We know very well that wizard is obsessed with seeing into the future." "I've heard of his exploits, but no, I don't work for anyone. Why restrict yourself to the future, anyway? Time goes out in all directions. Well, it's been nice talking to you. Sorry to cut the conversation short, but it's all finally ready – time for you all to hand over the rich resources of temporal magic you all have." There'd been two smaller circles marked out within the greater circle where the sixteen smurfs, and Smoogle, lined the circumference, all equally spaced apart. Finally, his outstretched fingers made contact with the familiar feel of his fallen glasses – he could tell that the lens was cracked and damaged a little. How annoying. Unthinkingly, he'd slipped them back on again before it could properly click that oh, that's right, the insight was still attached to them, and given its negative side-effects, he probably shouldn't have done that. But something was different about this time. Because now, he could see into Roesia, too. It must have been due to the crack in the lens… so she had merely blocked herself off from being accessible all this time, along with the other "blocks" she had put in place… and with good reason. He was just in time to see her slip her necklace off and lay it in one of the inner two circles before going to stand in the other. A loud gasp had escaped him, heads had turned in his direction. "It's going to kill us," he said. "We're going to die." "What… what?" Snappy looked about fearfully, wide-eyed. "It's not possible to extract temporal magic non-lethally," Brainy explained flatly, "and as long as we're alive and it's bound to us, no one can ever make any actual use of it, least of all ourselves." Yes, he could finally see with clarity exactly what she'd been playing at. Roesia had made no attempt at denial. "Bound temporal magic… kind of like a piece of decoration for the soul… ultimately useless," he remembered Roesia saying, before Sassette's pleading voice rang out: "Say it isn't true! Say it isn't true!" They were all gazing at her in horror, but still she refused to deny Brainy's accusation. "Sorry, I didn't want you to find out beforehand." Vanity spoke next. "...Say, Clumsy, could you toss me my mirror? If this really is my last day on this earth, I want to make sure I look my best." "No… No, Roesia, you won't do this," Papa Smurf spoke up firmly. He was surely thinking very fast, intent on finding a way out of this, for all of them. "Was it not you yourself who said earlier that you had never seen such huge concentrations of temporal magic in a single being your whole life? I can see very clearly how much I'm glowing – isn't that more than enough temporal magic for you? So you can let everyone else go." "I'm really sorry Papa Smurf. It's very noble of you for offering, but I've already got you all here, so it's not much of a bargain… There's so much that can be done with this magic, interchangeably, when it's extracted. Almost like magic currency. And there's a lot of things I want to do. I hope you can understand." "But with everyone here, you still surely have more than enough, several times over. At least set the two smurflings free right now. Please." Brainy didn't have to think too hard to realise that he was aiming to at least get the smurflings out of harm's way first, and then he could focus on freeing everyone else. "I really wish I could, truly, I have nothing against any of you. But I'm afraid I can't risk it. The structural integrity of the entire extraction strictly requires a full set, working together, all in the correct placements. All your temporal magic is alike and therefore connected… so this set-up I've done here maximises that." It was then that Brainy saw Papa Smurf's expression change, as if something had just clicked together in his mind. "…But you don't have a full set." She hadn't captured everyone with temporal magic who had been time travelling all those years ago. She was missing Baby Smurf. That meant the "structural integrity" of the entire extraction and the magically binding markings on the ground were already compromised. Roesia claimed that she needed a "full set" of everyone for her plan to work at maximum capacity, but she didn't have it. Perhaps that was why Brainy had not fallen unconscious upon stepping outside of the markings' confines. If Roesia had heard him, she gave no indication. She was already chanting, at that point. As far as she was aware, she wasn't missing anyone. But even if she didn't have everyone she needed, she would still be able to perform the temporal magic extraction. She'd already started the process. He could feel it, could feel something being sucked out of him, he was losing energy. "No," Papa then announced loudly, "not my little smurfs." And then he took a step outside of his circle. The retaliation from the binding magic must have been immediate. Everyone could see it in Papa's pained expression – he was in pain, no doubt. But unlike Brainy, who had leapt into the air upon being greeted with the sensation, Papa stayed outside of the circle – and then took another step forward instead. With obvious effort, he kept moving one foot in front of the other, exploiting the weaknesses in the set-up's defences caused by Baby's absence. If it weren't for that, the binding markings would be too strong. Roesia broke off her chanting when she noticed and instead began demanding that Papa return to his place. That's where she needed him, after all. But Papa ignored her and gradually continued shuffling onwards, crawling agonisingly forward when his legs gave out. The closer he got to the circle that contained the necklace, the more Roesia's shouts took on a pleading note. She even tried to swat Papa away, but such a thing required leaving her own circle. She unthinkingly tried to take a step forward, to go and swat Papa away, anything, only to shriek in pain and step back as she was assailed with the very same searing sensation for leaving her place. She couldn't afford to leave her place anyway; anyone out of position would make the whole process more and more unstable. That was not in her interest. None of this was. He was moving towards the necklace that was lying on the ground. He must have realised the sheer amount of power running through it: how it operated as the focal point of the entire extraction process. It was simultaneously the weakest and most sensitive point, yet holding the most power. If it were to be disturbed, the careful structure that Roesia set up would abruptly collapse, and with everything thrown so out of balance, the markings on the ground would no longer be magically binding. "You don't know what you're doing! No…!" Roesia cried. It looked like Papa Smurf knew exactly what he was doing. "Set us all free," Papa commanded. "I will." "She's lying," Brainy found himself saying. He could see now how intent she was in finishing what she'd started. How she wouldn't hesitate to double-cross Papa the moment he no longer posed an immediate threat to the extraction process. Papa was close to the enchanted necklace, now. He was close enough to touch it. And Brainy was close enough to a realisation that came just a little too late. He saw Papa Smurf reach out and wrench the necklace out of position, and *** everyone was thrown off their feet by the magic-infused explosion that followed. Brainy landed roughly on the hard ground, the lenses of his glasses now having been shattered completely. After a few stunned moments, he was able to note that he was relatively unharmed. The rough landing may leave some bruises, but nothing more than that. He then had no choice but to try and rely on his ears to make sense of what was going on, since the world was nothing but a great blur to him once more without the aid of his glasses. But listening did little to clear up the confusion – there were so many sounds all around him. Sounds of distress. Words started to get filtered through. But he didn't want to listen. They were saying the wrong things. There were scattered cries, both distant and close by. Some weeping. "No… No!" He began to see… something. Even though he could not see anything clearly, even with his terrible vision he could still distinguish the difference between light and dark, and there was something brightening in his vision – ah, was this it, then? Was he dying? Was he supposed to "move into the light"? No, when he moved closer he found that the light was not connected to him at all. He tripped over another smurf – Clumsy, it was Clumsy, he'd know that voice anywhere… He tried asking Clumsy what was going on. He was so glad to hear his voice and know that he was right by his side. Clumsy told him they were safe, but there was something else in his voice. He trailed off mid-sentence, his attention so focused on something else that he failed to help inform Brainy just what it was. "Papa. Papa…" that was Grouchy. He kept saying it again and again. "I've seen this before," said Grandpa softly. Weakly. "There's nothing… Nothing left to be done." "That's not true! I hate…!" "Papa Smurf saved us all, but he… He…" Smurfette's voice trembled. The others would later help explain to Brainy that it had been Papa who was emanating all that light, when no one else had been glowing anymore after the explosion. It was a light that was different from the glowing caused by the temporal magic. A natural light that would take hold of a smurf's form once the soul had dissipated, according to Grandpa. And then the body would dissipate too, not leaving behind a single trace. That's how it worked when it came to smurfs. Not that anyone present apart from Grandpa had ever had a chance to discover this before. Brainy didn't get to see Papa's form disappear. He only got to hear the reactions to it all around him as it happened in front of the very eyes that could not properly see it. It was actually quite a beautiful sight, if anyone's words to that effect could be trusted, but no sight could ever be beautiful enough to alleviate the excruciating circumstances behind it. All he really got to see was the bright light slowly dimming, fading, as Papa faded along with it. If only his glasses weren't damaged beyond repair, maybe he would have been able to see Papa one last time.

#smurfs #the smurfs #Brainy Smurf #Papa Smurf #Clumsy Smurf #FINALLY

11 notes · View notes

starry-climes · 7 years ago

Text

Never Alone

For the Yurionicebigbang! Art provided by the lovely @rymyanna here!

Find it here on AO3

The noise was horrible. Something Victor would never forget - as the pain fogged his senses. The blurred shapes as they ran out to him. The way he couldn’t stand up. No, he thought, desperately. It wasn’t to be.

It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was most likely, with age and circumstances, the end of Victor’s career. Yuuri tried not to think of that as he held Victor’s hand in his own. Victor just stared at the ceiling.

“Vitya,” Yuuri started, but Victor shook his head slightly, almost imperceptibly.

They can hear Yakov talking to the doctor outside. It is hushed, quieter than Yuuri has ever heard Yakov speak, and he knows that it isn’t a good sign.

He can see the blond head belonging to Yuri bobbing outside in the hallway. Yuuri knows that he’s worried. Everyone’s worried.

Victor just stares. He finally speaks, his eyes clear, that small smile on his face, his coach voice on, “Yuuri, you need to go home and get some rest. Tomorrow is your long program.” Yuuri is going to protest like he does all the time with Victor’s dictations, torn between being a concerned fiancé and his own competitive streak. “Can’t you listen to your coach?” Victor’s face is kind, not betraying a hint of pain, “just this once?”. Yuuri can feel the light squeeze of Victor’s hand with the words.

“It will be ok, Yuuri.”

Yuuri doesn’t know if it’s for Yuuri’s benefit or for Victor’s, this false lie.

Yuuri feels like the worst person in the world as he walks out of the room with the last thing he sees is his future groom cover his face with his arm.

He knows Victor’s crying. He knows Victor doesn’t want him to know. He wants to comfort him. Instead, he does for the first time as his coach says, and walks to his hotel.

Yakov’s Russian is low, quiet, paternal. Yuuri hovers behind the door listening to this rare unknown world. He has only seen the Yakov that exists in the rink. Demanding, angry, and constantly flummoxed and annoyed by Victor’s antics. Yuuri knows that deep down it is a display. Victor and Yakov have been together for so long it has become a dance and routine, and any divergence is a sign of something wrong.

So to hear this was new.

New and telling.

Victor’s Russian in return is quiet, heartbreaking. It speaks of tears and resignation. Like a child crying to their parent. Yuuri wonders if Yakov has been the only parental figure in Victor’s life, but he realizes, as Lilia hovers outside the room, that it might be a false assumption. He clutches the cold metal in his pocket. He was going to show it to Victor-to have him kiss it. But suddenly that seems childish, stupid, something Victor said when he wasn’t injured. Now Yuuri is torn from ever knowing if he would have achieved the metal if Victor had finished skating. It would never be determined. He grits his teeth and feels the metal warm from his grasp.

Yakov says something and comes to the door. He looks silently at Yuuri and nods, then looks at Lilia. There is unspoken communication there, something Yuuri is jealous of but knows he and Victor do the same thing on occasion; something Yuri has always complained about.

He walks into the room. Victor is staring at the ceiling. A book is at the bedside. Flowers dwarf him. So many well wishes. So many beautiful bouquets and gifts that will never bring back a long program to compete for the placement in the Grand Prix.

“Hey, baby,” Yuuri says gently, leaning forward to kiss his fiancé. He can feel Victor stiffen and pull away. Yuuri feels tears start, but pulls away himself to hide them and instead sits in the chair. Victor shifts in bed to push himself up.

“Yuuri,” his voice is a gravelly whisper teetering on the edge of tears, his sky blue eyes rimmed in red, “I’m sorry.”

Yuuri fiddles with a stray thread on his pants.

“I’m sorry, please come here.”

Yuuri can’t look up. He nods at the apology, he’s still second guessing himself. Maybe he is the worst fiancé of the year. Maybe life. Maybe the metal that sits like a hot coal in his pocket should be for the greatest loser in engagement.

He barely meets Victor’s eyes, but when the pain is so evident once he meets them, he can’t resist. It pushes past his anxiety and worry. He hugs Victor close. Victor puffs out and laughs softly. “I am so proud.”

Tears come then, and Yuuri lets them flow onto Victor’s hospital gown and soak the ugly faded blue material. “I…I…thought of you…and what we did…and I feel like…I don’t deserve it.”

Victor’s voice is calm, always so calm, like a rock in the tempest of Yuuri’s sea of worries. “Don’t deserve it? If anyone deserved that metal, it was you.”

Yuuri sobs out, “I brought it, so that you would kiss it.” It sounds as childish as he fears it would.

“Oh?” Victor pulls back to toss his hair. “Oh, my Yuuri has brought me a gold medal?”

Yuuri leans back, knowing he looks disgusting, probably snotty and tear-stained. He grabs the tissues by Victor’s bed to blow his nose, shamefully in public, and wipes his eyes.

Victor is just sitting there, hiding behind a mask of expression all too familiar from when they first met. The one Yuuri realized later meant he was thinking, seeing life like a giant chess board. Yuuri cannot help the pull to kiss Victor’s cheek. He lets it linger, and then pulls slightly away to kiss small kisses down where he chastely touches his lips to Victor’s. Victor kisses back slowly and tilts his head until they are melded, molded together like it was meant to be. Disengaging from the kiss, Yuuri touches his forehead to Victor’s.

“I wouldn’t have won it if you were there.” It was supposed to be an unspoken sentiment, but it comes out like vomit from Yuuri’s mouth, spewing his uncertainty.

“So I would win a personal best. Outstrip your final score in the long skate, and in the end, outrank you to win that metal? To then do the same in the Grand Prix?”

Victor was looking at Yuuri quite seriously.

“It rankles you know, that you are so good. I thought of you as my true competition. Something to strive for…” Victor’s eyes are clear and bright. It makes Yuuri want to look away, but this is so wild in revelation, he feels paralyzed.

“I might have gotten silver. I might not have medaled. Who knows?” Victor says with that same calm voice he has been using.

Yuuri wants to protest. Wants to cover Victor’s point counting and struggles.

“You are my student. You won a gold medal. I am the proudest coach. Let me kiss your metal, Yuuri.”

Trembling, Yuuri reaches into his pocket to pull out the shiny gold object nesting in the ribbon attached to it. He pulls it up to a heart shape, and Victor, his eyes not closing, never leaving Yuuri’s eyes, brings it to his lips and kisses it.

Yuuri knows.

It’s over now.

It will be the last time Victor will kiss a gold medal.

Yuuri walks through the small path leading from the apartment to the sidewalk on the way to the rink to practice.

Victor is on Facetime. His blue eyes seem dulled by the hospital’s overhead lights. Their dim buzzing neon blue draining Victor’s vitality. Not enough vitality to stop Yuuri from getting a lecture.

“You must go practice, and I want to see the turns sharper on the…”

Yuuri protested, “Vitya, I have so much time until the Grand Prix. I want to go see you instead.”

Victor’s hand comes up to push back his silver bangs. Yuuri wants to run his fingers through their softness, try to tuck them behind Victor’s ears, maybe then lean in to run his lips on that soft flushed tip, cup his jaw, and…

“Yuuri, you’re not listening to me.”

Uh, shoot. Yuuri had it bad. “Sorry, Victor.” He said quietly, “I just miss you. A lot.” The last words come out after a pause.

Victor’s eyes widen and then as he leans back he sighs. “ I didn’t realize coaching from long distance would be this hard.”

Yuuri lets out an incredulous noise.

“Well, how am I suppose to kiss you when you are not paying attention.” It’s mischievous and makes Yuuri laugh and heart gladden that Victor is feeling good enough to joke.

“Is that what that is? I thought you just liked me.” The banter still makes Yuuri’s heart race, and the quiet fear that Victor was going to say one day that he didn’t like Yuuri and wanted him to go away never seemed to leave.

“Oh,” Victor’s voice purred, “I like you just fine.” He goes quiet and seems to be peeking around. “I can’t wait to get home.” He whispered as if he and Yuuri were fast friends in grade school, and everything was whispered behind cupped hands. “I’m going to have a lot of fun.”

Yuuri’s body tightens. He’s been so horny it’s been crazy. When you have a doting fiancé and then suddenly nothing, it was like going back to all those days pining for something far away, imaginary, and non-existent. Back then it was easy to lose himself into skating. Warding off all those vague feelings or worries that he didn’t like people the way others seemed to.

“Please do.” It comes out embarrassingly breathless, and Yuuri gives a slight shriek of surprise as he realizes he almost ran into the gate at the end of the path.

“Oh my, that sounds promising.” He can hear his fiance’s voice tinny and far away as he tries to figure out where he was going next.

“Ha ha ha.” Yuuri says, fishing out his earplugs, so he could hear Victor better and somewhat pay attention to where he was walking.

“I don’t know. My coach is pretty strict. He might have me on the ice constantly. Then what will I do?” Yuuri fake pouts, and smirks at Victor’s heart shaped smile and large eyes.

“On the ice? Every day.” At that Yuuri laughs. He can’t stop for a whole block. He stumbles as he misses the crack in the sidewalk.

Victor suddenly gets serious. “Yuuri, call me at the rink. I want to you pay attention to where you are going.”

Ah, even things like this make Yuuri’s heart clench. Victor cared for him so much and it was so sweet. Then, at the same time, he could be walking next to Yuuri and not have to worry as much.

Victor wouldn’t be walking for awhile.

Yuuri tries not to think about that. “Ok, ok. I’m going.”

“Good.” Victor sounds satisfied as they hang up.

Yuuri realizes he didn’t get to ask about Victor’s day. He makes a mental note to ask at the rink.

But he doesn’t. Victor’s demands puts him through his paces, and actually, without Victor there, Yuuri overworks himself. If he pushes himself to the limit he could sleep better at night.

He comes off the ice exhausted, and the shower and bath can not be hot enough. He slowly crawls into his very empty feeling bed and stares at the glass lights hanging above.

“Hey, baby.” He texts. “I’m home. Our bed is too big without you.”

Victor texts back, “Ah!!! Yuuri, you said it’s our bed!”

Yuuri grins, and rolls to his side. The Facetime request comes up and he smiles softly at the handsome face that appears.

You think you two would get sick of each other by now. The cynical voice of Yuri P. floats through Yuuri’s head.

Victor looks like he is in pain. He is faking though it with a smile that hurts Yuuri's heart. Victor still has a hard time ridding himself of that fake visage he always projects. Yuuri can see it now.

“Hey handsome, “ Yuuri murmurs. He goes right into what he wants to say. The exhaustion of the rink is still there, but his body seems to want more suddenly, as if it’s forgetting all the skating it went through. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Victor’s eyes widen. “Yuuri!”

Yuuri grins and sets the phone down where Victor can have the best vantage.

Yuuri still feels self-conscious when he does this, but it is as if the fear is overridden by the look that Victor gives him. The smoldering blue eyes give him life and seem to urge him on, the look pushing him past his anxiety.

Thank God for modern technology.

He finally hears, through the pull of sleep, “Yuuri. You are so beautiful. You are my loveliest of lovelies. My beautiful one. How I adore you.”

It’s like reading through the valentines that littered stores in Detroit in February. Never in his life did he think he would get to hear those thoughts told to him. “Mm…” He says, “Good.”

It is ridiculous, he thinks later. Of all things to say, and he doesn’t ask Victor about his day once more, is the constant beratement when he wakes up. He hears a soft good night vaguely. Victor has the loveliest voice, Yuuri thinks contentedly. We’ll get married and I will get to hear it every night. He smiles.

The morning sun streams in through the crack. Yuuri sits up suddenly, feeling the drool caked on his face. He feels so much better.

Argh, he flops back with a groan. How embarrassing! How stupid. He’s berating himself, arm flung over his head, when he hears his phone ping with a skype notification. It’s Victor.

Yuuri’s face gets red. They are engaged, he tells himself. He needs to be braver about this stuff. He answers and tries to smile.

Victor tries not laugh at the image. His fiancé’s hair is every which way, his face groggy from sleep, and the crust of drool is on one side. He is very glad one of them had good sleep, and his fondness comes out with his voice. “Good morning sleeping beauty.”

Yuuri is this lovely shade of red and it makes Victor want to do very wicked things.

He can’t do those things, he understands that, but the very dirty thoughts to go away.

Of course, he’s wanted to do those things to Yuuri since the beginning, since he arrived in Hatetsu. “Hmm…looks like you got some good sleep.”

Yuuri is pulling the sheets up all embarrassed like, but the small grin makes Victor happy. Life is pretty boring when all you have is books, flowers to stare at (blue roses seemed to be a popular choice, and Victor loved them the most, but after a while, they seemed dull compared to his fiance’s company) and cards in all languages.

“I’m coming to the hospital today!” Yuuri seems pretty defiant. He’s setting his glasses on his face, and looking determined.

“Of course.” Victor grins. He knows Yuuri hasn’t been doing well lately. He thought if he pushed him in his skating, that he would fare better, but it seemed to make Yuuri just lovesick. He knew the feeling. He thought if he kept Yuuri busy and fulfilled, then Victor would work harder on getting better too, but it had just made him more lovesick. “I look forward to it.”

He leans back after the call ends, and he tries valiantly to get Yuuri to take him into the shower with him, but with no results, and sighs.

The nurses and doctor had said six months. Six months was half a year, and in skating terms, that was a whole season. Then that didn’t even include rehab.

He was done skating. Victor thought when he had gone to Hatestu that he had needed a break. He had needed to find his way back to something he loved for his life, but that had been his choice. This time there was no choice.

Yakov had warned him, “You can never come back.’

Maybe it had been an omen.

Victor shakes that notion off. Maybe it was a way to focus on coaching. Yuuri had years left. Even though people considered a 24-year-old, and soon to be 25-year-old too old in competitive skating, Yuuri still had many gold medals ahead.

The book next to him lays open, and he pulls it to him reluctantly. He tries not to count the clock. He tries not to be impatient. It is like when he hadn’t wanted to go to skating practice. He works on his French, and starts into Balzac with the gusto that he would apply to skating at 16.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

He wakes to feel a warm hand on his own. He wonders who it is, but the thumb runs gently along his hand. Not a friend he realizes he opens his eyes with a smile.

A smile is returned to him, those dark eyes glinting and filled with an emotion Victor had never known he craved. “Good morning Vitya.” He squeezes the hand back. “How are you?”

Victor sees that his book has been moved off of him onto the nightstand, a marker placed in it.

Victor's scared. He wants to tell this wonderful man everything he is feeling. Things he tries not to and foolishly thinks he shouldn’t feel. The terrors, the fears almost paralyze him, and all his face wants to do is smile and lie. It’s overwhelming - the nurses, the doctors, or the many friends he didn’t realize he really had, and all the people who genuinely cared, and had taken time out of their busy worldwide schedules to come and see him. He can feel his throat closing up. “Fine.” He wants to say. “I’m fine. Why aren’t you practicing. Why are you here.” But he would break his Yuuri’s heart, he had earlier this year. He wants to push Yuuri far far away, but at the same time he wants him so close.

Victor closes his eyes. “Are you tired?” he hears his fiance’s soft tenor.

He was. But it was the pain, the nurse had explained. The constant pain drained a person. “Yes.” He says, “I’m in pain too.” It sounds whiny, like Yuri on a bad day. “I mean…” but Yuuri just squeezes his hand. Everything dumps out. He can’t stop talking. It’s like when he was very young, and the train was coming around the track too fast, and it was watching something so horrific, but he couldn’t stop watching knowing it was doomed.

Yuuri doesn’t react like he thought he would, his perfect idol falling apart in front of him. He hears instead, “Well, that is to be expected. There is no shame in that.”

He opens his eyes to see Yuuri lean to him, eyes filled with tears, lips trembling. “My brave, brave Vitya.” Victor doesn’t feel brave, but Yuuri’s words make him believe it. The kiss is light, lovely, like a benediction, his forehead tingles, and he moves to touch it,when those plump beautiful lips and tongue touch his own, and it is like a dam breaks loose in another way.

His hips jar and scream at the extra weight in the bed, the movement filling his body with aches, but the hot lips against his own, pulling him apart, and sucking on his tongue, and filling his empty heart made up for it. Making out like teenager wasn’t on his list of things to do today, but he would take it. Take it for all those years of not making out because he always needed to make sure his skating schedule was met.

They finally part just to breathe, and Victor can feel his real smile fill his face. Yuuri sticks his still cold nose into Victor’s neck, and it makes a warm welling in Victor’s heart.

Yuuri makes no move to leave him. Victor feels silly, but he shows Yuuri what he has been doing. The time schedules, the constant need to fill time logically, to keep him sane. There is an understanding in Yuuri eyes instead of the pity that fills his friends when they see him checking his schedule to make sure it is going well and he’s completeing his goals.

“What’s this?”

It is after lunch, the pathetic remains of it looking sad on the lifeless beige tray. Yuuri is pushing away the lunch tray when he spots the spiral bound book down below Victor’s stack of magazines. They are bridal magazines, but Yuuri doesn’t question it. He sees those large eyes get larger, and a small smile come onto his fiance’s face. The binder is something Victor had been working on, but he squirmed inside. Maybe Yuuri would think it stupid.

“It’s my wedding book.” Victor says, taking it, and Yuuri resumes resting his head on Victor’s shoulder. Like they can’t stop touching each other.

“Oh.” Yuuri pauses over the first two pages. They were tuxedo ideas, and color schemes and flowers. Cut out from magazines and pasted in. Yuuri knew, from Phichit that there were apps that let you snip and paste and make boards and idea collections, but in a way this seemed more intimate, cutting out and collages so it could be touched, and take time. Time was the thing Yuuri got the most. “Black?” He murmured over one of the tuxes.

Victor hummed. “For me.”

“White?” Yuuri moved his finger over it. He likes the cut and color.

“For you.” Victor’s hand covers Yuuri’s hand.

“Not matching?” Yuuri says quietly. This is not his forte. This was very much Victor. Victor who in another world could fashion design or interior design with gusto.

Victor sighed slightly. “ I thought about it. But…” Yuuri listens to his fiancé go on, about everything.

They turn through the pages, and Yuuri gives his imput. It was fun to think about it. It had seemed so faraway but this made it seem real. A real wedding, with real things. “What about peonies? In Japan they are considered good for marriage.” He can feel a flush come over his face, but he sees Victor jot a note on one of the pages in his very precise Cyrillic hand writing. “You should see my cursive.” When Yuuri had complimented it once, ‘It is as bad as Yurio’s attitude.”

“Can we delay it?”

Yuuri’s thoughts and heart freeze.

“What?” He croaks out. Nononononono his mind is running.

For something that had started like joke and yet had been very serious for Yuuri, these words seemed like a death knell.

Victor is looking at him with all seriousness.

Victor didn’t want him.That was ridiculous. He was delaying their wedding, that’s all.

Yuuri looks down at his hands. “You still want to marry me, right?” It comes out softly. He can see his hands swimming in front of his eyes. Panic was setting in.

“How could you say that?” Victor looked shocked. He let the book set down with a wince and reached for Yuuri’s hands. “Yuuri, look at me.”

Large brown eyes, the depths reminded of Victor’s of the creeks in the country estate during summer, filled with golden and amber hues. “I will always want to marry you.” He says it with all the confidence he can imbue the words with.

Yuuri tucked himself into Victor’s arms, and they hug. The words are whispered by Victor’s ear, and he is reminded of Yuuri before every performance, desperately hanging on to truth and confidence instead of the lies that his anxiety told him. “Please only want to marry me.”

Who else would Victor marry?

There was no one.

“Of course. You are my Yuuri. You are my future husband. There is no one else.”

He could only kiss that beautiful shell of an ear, ignoring once again the pain in his hips.

“I know.” It’s said so sadly, and trembling. Yuuri fighting his own fears.

“So brave.” Victor says quietly.

Yuuri stills at that. He pushes away. “Brave to marry you! You are…”

Victor stops him with a finger against those plush lips. “Nonono. You misunderstand me my love. I am proud you are fighting your worries.”

Yuuri flushes and his eyes wander away. He stares at their hands entwined. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Victor says with a smile. He tucks up Yuuri’s chin, and he sees a small smile come back on his face. He rubs his thumb against those lips, and Yuuri plays into it, his pink tongue darting playfully at the finger.

“Oh. God.” The disgust is palpable. They both turn to see Yuri standing in the doorway. “Are you two serious? Victor you have your leg in a sling!”

Victor just grinned, “Yurio!”

“Not my name.” the teenager huffs. He brings a bag to Victor. “I didn’t want them starving you.”

Yuuri says, “That’s so nice!”

Yuri just stares him down. “I see you practicing constantly, what do you think this is, what happens if you push yourself too hard?”

Victor is watching Yuuri now. Yuuri is turning a shade of red. “I’m just getting ready for the Grand Prix.”

“Katsudon. The Grand Prix isn't for a month.”

Yuri snorts at Yuuri's expression and sits in one of the guest chairs. “Ok. Lets get this over.” He is holding a bag of cards. Yuuri just stares as he pulls out one by one, and reads them to Victor.

“You know,” Victor taps his chin thoughtfully. “I can read still.”

“Whatever old man.”

“What do you mean Yuuri’s practicing? Of course I have him practicing.”

Yuri’s face could put lemons to shame. “Yeah, he’s not just only doing that, he is doing more. He just doesn’t tell you how much.”

Yuuri is feeling the world slide and pitch, and he wants to disappear. Maybe he could just go back to bed and start this all over again.

Victor looks at him with the coach look, the one that means that Yuuri’s in trouble. Yuuri feels the defiance flood in, “I just want to be good this season. Better. End it well.”

Without you. Yuuri doesn’t come out and say it though.

Victor smiles, and Yuri sticks out his tongue at the display, "Gross."

“You will be. I know you will. I'll be there - even if it's not physically."

Yuuri breathes deep as he enters the rink edge.

He tries to shut out the noise triumphant, announcers with the scores, the roar of the crowd as they are cheering for their favorite, and the polite clapping for the scores themselves. His headphones are out, sitting by his personal effects.

He ignores Yuri who is doing his best to return the favor. Yuuri realizes that like some things in life, Yuri will be forever a returning item. A thing lost and then found, ever following, ever necessary, and like a moon in the orbit of a planet, will wax and wane and never go away.

Victor is far away. It is like Rosteldom all over again, but Yuuri is somehow more confident, as if the burning talisman of love had been given to him and he could go forth victorious.

Yakov is hunched in the corner, watching him.

He says nothing as he moves to stand by him.

“Let them know that you are not alone.” Yakov says quietly. There are other things left unsaid, Victor would be proud. Victor is here in spirit.

Yuuri’s eyes grow hard as he prepares himself. He steps onto the ice, as he has done for years and years, smiles and raises his arms outwards in a brilliant display as his name is announced overhead. The world fades, and the anxiety creeps in at the edges. But Yuuri briefly closes his eyes to hide away from this world of white, glaring lights, and ice below. Victor he thinks opening them up to this world, this world he will leave soon, never look away, look only at me.

Victor sits in the bed, the dull throbbing making him crave pain medicine, and he ignores it. Ignores it favor to watch his student in the middle of the rink, waiting for the music and then becoming one with it.

There is a fierce bitterness that rides under his skin. Something that whispers, You should be there. Something that tells him tales of woe, of finally competing against his beloved. To fill his dreams, and to finalize Victor’s.

There is no such thing, Victor reminds himself, his stomach churning in the strange feelings of anger, sadness, and loss.

The crowd roars as Yuuri completes his jump, and it is as if Yuuri is burning too bright, too bright against the world, riding some sort of fire that goads him on and on. As the program unfolds, the audience is wild with approval and awed at the same time.

Victor’s feels the tears before he knows he is crying, the warmth dripping down and onto his tablet as Yuuri bows with flowers and stuffed animals and items thrown along with them.

Victor watches through the blurriness as Yuuri picks up a bouquet of blue roses and a katsudon plushie. Yuuri is shocked as he is greeted with a blue rose crown at the edge of the rink, before he goes to sit with Yakov in the kiss and cry. Yuuri grins for real in the cameras waving a bit. Mouthes 'I love you' in English at them. Victor rubs away the tears getting in the way of him watching this spectacle.

His heart burns. It is a wonderful feeling and he lets it overtake him. The sadness and pain seems to be melted away from its flame.

Yuuri’s scores come in, and Victor is yelling and Yuuri’s eyes are filled with tears, as he waves and then hugs an astonished Yakov.

Victor falls back into his pillow, hands raised in triumph.

The nurses rush in. He tries to explain what is going on. Through his excitement and accomplishment he feels the rush of numbness of the pain meds taking away his pain, and triumph, feeling them pull him into sleep.

“Did you like my surprise?” Victor asks flirtatiously, at his fiancé, who had just woken up the day after his triumph.

“The blue roses?” Yuuri said with a small smile. He looks exhausted, purple circles obvious under his eyes. If the banquet wasn’t that night, Victor would have wondered if he had missed out on another fun time with Yuuri, but no, it looked like Yuri and Yuuri had gone on an adventure after their respective gold and silver medals. At least from Victor’s stalking on Instagram.

“Yes, did you like them, my Yuuri?”

Yuuri smiled and reached out to touch the screen. “I loved them.”

Victor misses that touch meant for him.

“We will have to celebrate.”

Yuuri laughs. “Oh, I know what I want as my prize.” He purrs to Victor.

Victor heart leaps. That same strange flutter as going into a hard jump you don’t know if you are going to land.

He laughs breathlessly back.

“What do you think of Hatestu in the Spring?” Yuuri smiles, a faint blush spreading.

Victor feels elation fill him. “Marry me by the cherry blossoms?”

“Yes, if you will have me.” Yuuri grins, the same small grin he had when he had held out the silver metal years ago with a heart shaped ribbon.

Victor's eyes and smiles are too big for words, he couldn’t stop them if he tried. “Of course, my Yuuri. Of course, I will. Great! Wow!”

Yuuri just smiles, real and wide, his eyes closing with that happiness.

Chris is rocking his leg whilst sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, and Victor wants to viciously kick him with his good leg, but on the other side, Yuuri is laying right next to him, head propped up with Victor’s many pillows. His fingers play with Victor’s own. There is the smell of champagne as Yuri pops open the bottle too loudly, cork flying into the hospital ceiling.

Mila pours out the glasses and hands them out. Victor doesn’t want to stop touching Yuuri, and so takes the glass with his other hand.

“To new beginnings…” Chris raises his glass.

Everyone murmurs the sentiment.

Chris and Yuuri are going to announce their retirements tomorrow at the press conference. Mila and Yuri are already sniping at each other playfully.

And the marriage next spring has people already planning their trips to Japan.

Victor smiles and kisses Yuuri’s hand.

It was the beginning of a new chapter.

#yurionicebigbang #yoibb17

5 notes · View notes

poeticandvaguelysweet · 8 years ago

Text

Prompt #165 - Accident Prone

@bryc-dlls-hwrd : 'I cut my finger too deep while cooking but I don't want to go to the hospital and you're the med student who lives in the apartment across from mine; why can't you just stitch it up?'

I am flying through these. Haven’t finished my thesis edits for the week though.

AO3

ACCIDENT PRONE

She knocked on his door with tired eyes and frazzled red hair. Her hand was bound in a dishcloth, navy and white, splotched with red. Her face read as an apology, quiet but bashful as he started at her, one hand on the door, the other in the pocket of his jeans.

Claire Dearing from 12C was clumsy beyond belief. She had been his neighbour for close to three years now, and Owen was sure he couldn’t possibly begin to count her injuries on two hands, let alone any extras. ‘I cut my finger.’ She offered quietly, eyes meeting his with a bold determination. She thrilled him like that, soft and quiet but headstrong and determined to succeed. She was tiny for a college senior, almost as if she was waiting for a final growth spurt to hit her. He knew she had some height on her, but standing in his doorway, injured yet again, Claire looked so small.

Owen sighed, tired but not unsurprised. ‘Okay, come in.’ He stepped aside for her, watching as the small woman slipped past him and made herself comfortable in his modest kitchen. Their apartments were the same, flipped and designed with their own personal tastes. He tried not to think that her comfort in his place was because she had been there so frequently, but that it was similar to hers. ‘You really need to go to the hospital, Claire.’ He told her in a quiet breath, her knees bumping against his hips. She was sitting on the counter, raising her height where he could access her hand easily. It had become his unspoken gurney, Claire propping herself up, waiting to be looked upon.

‘But it’s so much easier when there’s a med student living across the hall.’ She whispered softly, her head turned towards his hands, watching as his fingers pulled at the cloth she had used to stop the bleeding. ‘Why can’t you just stitch it up?’ He could, and he would unless it was beyond his control.

From the moment she found out he was studying medicine, Claire knocked on his door. There were days where she needed a band-aid - an assumption Owen adored. He didn’t have any until after the fourth time she asked, now the stash in his bathroom cupboard is full enough to put a schoolyard first-aid kit to shame. It was all for her. She came to him on days where she was confident she had a concussion, a bad hangover, or curious to see if he had an instant remedy for terrible bruises. He thought she had a boyfriend who beat her, until he watched Claire trip on nothing and fall over, slamming her knees into the hard wood of their building’s hallway and dropping her books. She walked into doorways and slipped on clean floors. He was surprised she wasn’t more banged up than she usually was.

He didn’t have to guess how she managed to cut the end of her finger off, blood soaking the cloth in her hands. Owen turned her petite hand between his, checking her injury from all angles. He tried not to notice how small she was in comparison to him, her hands steady in his.

‘Last day of placement today?’ She asked, keeping up with his schedule.

Owen nodded easily, eyes never leaving her cut as he squeezed the end of her finger softly. ‘Ah, yeah.’ His words were distracted, distant and drifting off. ‘I do another round in November, but it’s done for now.’ She nodded, watching his face as he cleaned her finger, concentration poured into thick lines on his brow. ‘Lookin’ forward to some Netflix then bed.’ He laughed, dinner dishes already in the sink, waiting to be washed when he found the energy.

‘Fuck.’ She swore, hissing at the disinfectant on her open skin. Owen loved the way she swore, the words always a breathless whisper like it was some raspy secret for the two of them to share, something filthy that he didn’t even know yet. He squeezed her wrist, pulling Claire’s attention back to him as he held her hand up for her to inspect. Bandaged tightly, he cleaned the wound and prayed she could keep it as such. ‘Kiss it better?’ Claire asked softly, eyes not quite meeting his as he blinked at her. Owen hesitated for a second before he leant forward and pressed his lips to the bandage on her finger.

‘All better.’ He told her with a smile as she slipped forward and off the counter. Owen thought she would leave, but instead, while he packed away his kit, she helped herself to his couch, her hand in a bowl of Skittles he kept handy as she got comfortable with the remote. ‘Oh, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air! Where are you up to?’

She looked at him innocently as he stood in the kitchen, watching her with avid curiosity. ‘Have you had dinner?’ He asked, knowing the answer was likely no, her injury getting in the way of the meal she was preparing and had now abandoned. Claire shook her head. ‘Do you want some?’ He promised there were leftovers in the fridge, ready to be reheated. She nodded eagerly, eyes following him for a second before she started scanning through his Netflix.

Owen appeared beside her minutes later, hot bowl in his hands. ‘You probably think I’m useless.’ She muttered, accepting the food with small thanks.

‘I think you’re a lot of things.’ Owen shrugged, ‘Useless isn’t one of them.’ He thought she was cute, sweet and funny. She was smarter than him, he was sure of it, more knowledge packed into her head than an entire medical degree could hope to teach him. She held more power in her pinkie than some of the mightiest men on the planet, so what if she walked into walls, or fell a little more than the average person. Claire Dearing could stand up and fight them all with her wits and still come out on top.

She watched him with a curious tilt of her head, food forgotten in her hands as her brow furrowed. ‘I think I busted my lip.’ Her index finger prodded at the skin of her mouth softly, gently running over the small bloody split. Owen didn’t miss it, it was the first thing he saw when he opened the door. ‘Kiss it better?’ She asked, eyelashes kissing her cheeks softly as she felt the cushions of the couch shift with his weight.

His lips met hers gently, barely there and hesitant. Owen kissed her properly when he felt her smile grow across his mouth, her body leaning into his. He accepted her gratefully, hand sliding against her hip as he kissed sweet honey from her lips.

#clawen #Claire Dearing #Owen Grady #Jurassic World #despite the odds #this one is a semi college AU #i like those there softer than everything else for some odd reason #like idk it's an altered sense of reality for me

31 notes · View notes

kai-keda · 8 years ago

Text

I read the entire prologue of "Strong Hearts Are Mandatory: Heart of Glass" on Amazon to hold myself over until my physical copy comes in on the 25th and by GOD this is gonna be even BETTER than I imagined! Normally I have trouble reading, trouble visualizing what's happening, trouble keeping characters in order, even with Dresden, the series written by one of my sister's favorite writers, I had trouble with characters. I need to have a pre-existing image of characters and outfits and objects and locations and all that good stuff before I can fully let myself go to the story. And if I can't let myself go, then it becomes a chore to read. What usually ends up happening is that I fill in the blanks that I missed incorrectly. I make assumptions because certain details don't process right and those assumptions turn out false so I end up thinking "wait, he's making out with the police officer lady? But I thought she died. He was so torn up about - oh wait was that someone else? Ooooh that was some girl that he was training I guess???" That wasn't the fault of Jim Butcher. He kept the names in order, he kept the descriptions in order, he kept everything in order. Some of it just filtered through my brain and didn't sit right. This is why I can manage some fanfiction and not others. I can follow my sisters writing because she doesn't flood me with useless information that I struggle to keep together and only gives me what I need and everything else is stuff I already knew from watching the series. I have visuals to help me. I know what Goku looks like so when she uses his hair as an identifier, I can go "oh, right, that's Goku". That's part of why I was so excited for Mandatory. Teelia's animations and pictures keep everything together for me. I already know so much about the story and the characters because she's been feeding the details to me bit by bit without giving away how it all comes together. If I get confused at who's talking, no problem, check the name again, look up an image on Deviantart and go "oh! That person! I know them! They're on that team of three! The really big and fluffy one!" Reading the prologue put all those fears of not being able to keep up because "what if it's bad writing?" to rest because even if it is (which I don't believe so. It seemed great to me but I'm not a good judge of written word) I know that I can follow it. I know what the Spider Monkey who can't help his Curiosity looks like when he turns into shadow and melds into the wall because I've SEEN it. I know what his jester outfit that he made for himself looks like because I've SEEN it. I know what the magic of the cyan cube looks like and I know the red heart that scattered across all of Media looks like because I've SEEN them. I don't need to stress about making sure the image in my head is perfect. I don't need to worry about having to filter out information because I was handed too much and it's too hard to keep track of all of it while keeping track of who's saying what to whom and what they're doing and what they're wearing and wait why was the placement of the chair important but not the mirror? I remembered where the mirror was but not the chair why would you tell me about the mirror if it didn't matter now I have to read this whole conversation again because YOU had to fill it up with NONSENSE! (Yikes sorry - I REALLY hate when authors put useless information because it means I can't have fun reading it and the story would've been fine without it) The point is - I won't have stress with this story. I have the details set in my mind through direct visual aids. Even if the author bombards me with useless information, it'll be fine, because the character designs will be something I can easily filter out. From the prologue I can tell you this: Everything's on fire and it's the monkey's fault.

5 notes · View notes

operationrainfall · 6 years ago

Text

As of January 2019, there are currently over 1,200 visual novels for sale on Steam, many of which were developed by small teams with big dreams. One such title is Bloody Chronicles – New Cycle of Death. This title serves as Igrasil Studio’s debut release and was added to Steam less than a month ago. Currently in its alpha/early-access phase, New Cycle of Death is act one of what is planned to be a three part series. It’s a murder-mystery visual novel with slice-of-life elements thrown in. It began its life as a Kickstarter campaign back in early 2016 and surpassed its funding goal by an additional $17k. Boasting nearly 30 hours of content and around 70 different decisions to make, Igrasil Studio certainly set its goals high for this one. The question is, was it able to succeed in reaching them?

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The core story revolves around a group of young detectives, all of whom are fresh out of school. As part of the non-governmental detective agency IGRASIL, they take on cold cases that normal organizations like the police are unable to solve. At the onset of the game, a string of bizarre murders has left the public afraid and the police baffled. Most of these have been attributed to a maniac known as “the Phantom”, whose work is both grizzly and grandiose. He or she leaves a series of clues behind with each murder, many of which seem to hold some form of symbolism. Among our group of detectives is the protagonist, Kazuki Koyama. Kazuki is relatively new to the IGRASIL team and makes it his goal to solve these puzzling clues and catch the Phantom before the police can. Along the way, we learn a bit about his troubled past as well. Having lost both of his parents in a fatal car accident just one year earlier, Kazuki seems to have found comfort in solving cases and helping others. He can be a bit of a curmudgeon at times and is often blunt with his teammates, but his heart seems to be in the right place. He’s joined by by fellow detectives Suzumi, Kaoru, Akito, and Aki, all of whom have ended up with IGRASIL under different circumstances. With the Phantom case being their first murder investigation, IGRASIL team (much like the development team) sets their sights high and aims to make a bigger name for themselves.

All exposition aside, how’s the writing? Well, it varies. I enjoy murder mysteries and stories that incorporate a variety of religious elements, so to that end I was pleased. The story as a whole is interesting, but its main problem stems from that fact that it doesn’t seem air-tight. Some loose ends are to be expected when your game is separated into multiple acts, but a number of existing pieces didn’t seem to mesh. For one thing, I’m fairly certain that certain scenes were either missing or pulled out without changing the others. There is a “side-quest” of sorts that is introduced about half-way into the game which involves a character named Bradley. If the dialogue between the characters is to be believed, Bradley should’ve been introduced earlier in the game. All of the characters (including Kazuki) seem to know him and reference meeting him a few days prior. As far as I can recall though, he was never introduced. My assumption is that an earlier scene was removed, either by accident or to quicken the pace of the story. There are other instances where characters are introduced and then never mentioned again. In cases like that, perhaps I simply didn’t make the right decisions. Still, having these character interactions just exist without further context was a bit disappointing.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Stranger still are the points where story elements will change without warning. Towards the beginning (before you meet him), the new police officer in charge of the Phantom case is referred to as General Akiak. When you go to meet him though (and from that point forward), he inexplicably becomes General Coya. I think it’s safe to assume that his name was changed at some point during the game’s development cycle. Finally, the game’s description indicates that player choices can lead to multiple different scenarios, but during my playthrough most of the decisions didn’t seem all that important. There were some larger ones to be made, but the majority of them revolved around choosing to spend time with Kazuki’s teammates or blowing them off. This did seem to affect romantic options with characters, but most didn’t appear to be story-centric. I did read some user comments on the Steam page which seemed to indicate that decisions would carry more weight in acts II and III, but I can’t vouch for that since those are not out yet. There are some romantic moments available, but it would seem that more will follow in acts II and III. My first suggestions to the developers would be to flesh out the story a bit more, make sure all the scenes fit together, and find a way to convey the importance of each decision. Perhaps a flowchart of events or an easier way to return to these decision points would help.

The English voice acting is also mixed in terms of quality. The only options are English or no voices at all, so I chose to stick with the English voices. The voices for the main team of characters aren’t too bad, but some characters’ voicework is better than others. All in all though, the main characters’ voices grew on me over time. Additionally, I could tell just by listening to them that the actors all had a really great time recording their lines. What I wasn’t as impressed by was the difference in pronunciation between characters. Some of the voice actors would address people or things using one pronunciation, only for another actor to immediately pronounce that person or thing differently. The most standout example of this is the way in which the team addresses Kazuki. Some pronounced his name as “ka-zu-key” while others would pronounce it as “kazoo-key”. While I eventually got used to this, it was a bit grating at first. As for the other characters (those not imperative to the story), the voice acting was not nearly as polished. Some of these characters didn’t even have voices at all, but those who did were not voiced as well as the main characters. My second suggestion for the developers is to revisit the voiced dialogue as well as provide more where gaps exist. This goes for both the main and supplemental characters.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

My concerns with the voice acting and the subtitles go hand-in-hand. Spelling and grammar were indeed an issue. I’d say 75% or so of the subtitles were okay, but the other 25% could use some heavy spelling/grammar updates. Given that the game is still in early-access, some spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected. Having said that, there were a number of other issues outside of these simple ones. The largest issue was the placement of the subtitles. More often than not, I’d read the subtitles while listening to the voices and the two wouldn’t sync up. Part of this was likely due to slight variations between the script and the subtitles, but another part was simple misplacement of the subtitles. Not all of the main character lines are voiced of course, so I can see how this mismatch may have occurred. One major example relates to a scene in which your teammate Akito talks with his mouth full after eating some donuts. This audio is played again several scenes later and paired with unrelated subtitles. There are also times when the opposite is true. This issue was peppered throughout the game and I found myself trusting the subtitles more than the spoken lines (though the spoken lines didn’t have translation issues). To their credit, the development team does make mention of possible translation issues when the game first boots up. Since they seem aware of the spelling and grammar issues, I’d suggest that they also take a look at the subtitle pairings and make sure that they sync up with the correct audio.

In terms of art style, I must once again say that it has its ups and downs. Hands down, the best aspect of the artwork is the main character designs. All character portraits are hand drawn and the irises of their eyes really stuck out to me. Each character is uniquely designed and has a distinct personality, which the portraits do a great job of conveying. While not all of the other, supporting characters have portraits, those that do are generally not as detailed as the main characters. All of them are still hand drawn, but the eyes aren’t as detailed (for the most part) and the linework isn’t as neat. Given that some of these extra characters don’t even have portraits, I’m assuming that most of the focus was dedicated to the main characters. While not a huge deal, I would’ve preferred a bit more continuity between the designs. Character portraits aside, there are also times where scenes will break away to chibi art renditions of the characters, complete with matching backgrounds. These were a nice change of pace and, while infrequent, were all very well done. Lastly, the backgrounds for the normal scenes were nice, albeit unassuming. None of them stuck out as overly unique or memorable, but they certainly got the job done and fit well with their associated scenes. In looking at the original Kickstarter images, there have been some noticeable changes since the game’s inception. Having said that, many of these changes aren’t necessarily for the worse. In my opinion, the largest changes exist with the character designs. As far as the main characters are concerned, these changes are merely stylistic and the new designs look really nice.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The music and sound design as a whole didn’t really stand out to me. That’s not to say that there was anything wrong with it, but I only found myself paying attention to one or two of the tracks. The opening song and the track played during melancholy points of the story both stood out as really nice. As for the other tracks, while I can’t say that I found myself jamming out to them, each fit the mood of the game pretty well and I have no complaints. You can actually buy the soundtrack itself through Steam as a separate purchase if you’re so inclined.

While we’re on a more positive note, let me briefly touch on the game’s sense of humor. When Kazuki and the gang aren’t tracking down leads on the Phantom or looking at gruesome crime scenes, they’re either harassing one another or having a good laugh at the Red Dragon restaurant. Akito and Aki are siblings, so they have a tendency to pick on each other and get into childish arguments. Suzumi and Kaoru on the other hand seem content with picking on Kazuki for his laziness and stubborn attitude. Of course, all of this takes a back seat to Akito’s goofy behavior, which all the characters take part in laughing at. Akito is definitely the comic relief of this game, so emphasis is often placed on him during light-hearted moments. Interactions like this helped break apart the more serious parts of the game. I actually tend to prefer serious moments over comedic ones, but I can appreciate the way that they are handled here. Also, I didn’t just mention that Red Dragon restaurant at random. It seemed like after every other scene the characters would all head to a restaurant for food, usually the Red Dragon. They would even take the time to discuss what menu items to order once getting there. I’m being serious here; someone on the development team must really love food and I’m not knocking that.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Looking into the future, there is also a bit of bonus content in the works for this title. The full release will see the introduction of IF Mode, which will include four unlockable episodes. These episodes will each center around a different member of IGRASIL and will feature some form of adult content. There is also a beach-themed episode planned, which will be packed with fan service. The menu options exist for both of these options currently, but the content itself won’t be available until the final release. Also keep in mind that this is but act I of III, so two more games will expand upon the content that is already there.

In short, Bloody Chronicles – New Cycle of Death is an interesting visual novel that shows potential, but its absence and/or misuse of story, voice, and art assets leaves a lot to be desired. Missing assets aside, the fact that many of the existing ones don’t sync up is something that will definitely need addressed before the official release. Bear in mind that there’s still time for the developers to fix these issues and they seem dedicated to doing so. In fact, as I was writing this, several fixes were already put in place to improve the opening chapter (among other things). The team aims to make update announcement each week, so it’s safe to say that the game will continue to see refinement. Some of my more minor suggestions include tightening up the story a bit and making player decisions seem more important (and appear more frequently). I like the idea of having decisions that carry over to acts II and III, but would’ve liked to see some immediate changes in act I based on my choices. Lastly, I would’ve liked the game to last just a bit longer. I put in right around 22-23 hours, but there were a number of things that I would’ve liked to see play out further (namely interactions between non-IGRASIL characters). The game is set to see a full release in mid-February of this year, so there is still time for some of the kinks to be worked out. If you’d like to give the game a try yourself, head over to its official Steam page. It is currently listed at $24.99 USD, but the price will see an increase once the game has officially released. Assuming that all of the above points get addressed and the game releases with all of its content in sync, I look forward to seeing what acts II and III have in store.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

IMPRESSIONS: Bloody Chronicles – New Cycle of Death As of January 2019, there are currently over 1,200 visual novels for sale on Steam, many of which were developed by small teams with big dreams.

0 notes