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hannahmanderr · 6 months

Text

(part 1 of 2)

Newton's third law states for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

The Heart of the Infinite Realms sets out to prove that wrong.

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Danny reeled.

Remnants of fleeting memories that weren’t his own assaulted him like a swarm of angry bees. There was the weight of a pulsating ring lifting from his finger -

- and the distant thunder of a door slamming open -

- and -

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Star rolled her eyes. “Listen Pauli, if he really thinks he can use you like a plaything and toss you aside the moment he thinks he’s found someone better, then he never even deserved to breathe the same air as you.”

“H-he told me I was special!” Paulina sniffled. “That I-I was the on-”

“Girl, you know I love you, but I told you this when you first started seeing him!” Star interrupted. “He’s a player! Like literally! That boy can’t keep it in -”

“But he ch-cheated on me! No one cheats on me!”

She flicked her eyes both ways as she crossed the street. Paulina’s house wasn’t too far of a walk, but she did have a couple of streets to cross to get there. “Exactly. No one cheats on you and gets away with it. You’re the queen. You’re the one who rules.”

Paulina sighed with a dramatic flair only she could perfect. “I don’t feel like the queen. Not when I can’t have what I want…”

It was a rare show of vulnerability from her. Paulina never showed weakness, not to anyone. The only person she would open up to was Star, and even then she would not do it often. Things usually had to get pretty bad for her to be so blunt.

Still, Star frowned. “Are you on about Danny Phantom again? Because I thought we -”

“No! I’m keeping my promise! No ghost boy until he realizes I’m right for him!”

“Good girl.” She skipped over a puddle, and a sudden grin blossomed on her face. “Ohhh, wait, I think I know what this is about,” she said with a mischievous air.

“What?”

Star’s grin widened. “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about what you told me at Dale’s party last month. I know what you really want. Or should I say… who you want?”

She could practically hear Paulina’s stunned expression over the phone. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said flatly.

“Mhmm. Sure. You were drunk, but you weren’t that wasted.”

“I wasn’t anything because it never happened!”

Star laughed. Paulina’s house was just around the corner and a block down the road now. “Pauli, you can admit it to me. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Besides, I think it’s sweet how you pine after her!”

Paulina groaned, and there was a soft thump as she presumably flopped onto her bed. “It’s not pining! Díos mio, it’s not anything! Like I would fall for a goth geek like her, even if she is pretty!”

Star had to bite her lip to keep from guffawing at her friend’s slip. And to think Paulina was denying this crush so vehemently.

“Well, I -”

The sky exploded around her.

Experience had long since taught her to duck immediately. When you lived in a town plagued by ghosts who could fly, there were only so many reasonable responses to loud noises. Miraculously, she managed to keep the phone pressed to her ear.

She glanced up fearfully. The air hummed with potent energy, the kind that usually heralded a powerful ghost, only this was dialed up to an eleven. A series of chills ran down her spine, and in spite of herself, she shivered.

Above her, the sky keened with an ominous rumble that shook her to the bone. Her heart plummeted when the sharp crackling of lightning pierced her ears and a blinding fork of green light split the sky.

The edges of the cracks began to try and pull themselves away from each other, revealing even more green light. Just beyond, if she squinted, she could see the black of a pitch dark void trying to creep into the cracks and push them apart even more.

And just as quickly as the lightning and the cracks had appeared, they disappeared with a deafening snap that jolted Star’s gut out of place and sent her falling onto the sidewalk.

For a minute, she couldn’t do anything other than breathe heavily, trying to catch her breath and calm her racing heart. Paulina’s voice was running at a hundred miles per hour in her ear, but she couldn’t find it within herself to even try to pay attention. Something inside her boiled away at her blood, filling her with a kind of dread she’d only felt a handful of times before.

Very carefully, she propped herself up so she was sitting. She couldn’t find any remnant of what had just happened - only confused neighbors emerging from their homes, peering up and wondering the same thing she was..

“... was that? Star! Star, please! I heard a loud noise, are you okay?”

The words slowly started to take form in her brain. “Y-yeah,” she whispered, still watching everyone point up at the sky and talk amongst themselves. “I’m fine… I think… Did you see the sky?”

¿Qué piensas? Of course I saw it! What even happened?”

Star swallowed. “I don’t know…” But whatever it is can’t be good, she finished silently. Not when you lived in a town constantly plagued by the supernatural.

“I-I’ll try to tell you what I can when I get there,” she promised, hoisting herself onto her feet and jogging towards Paulina’s house. It shouldn’t have been more than a block, by that point.

She didn’t know how on earth she was going to explain it.

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He staggered backward, the blinding green light from the split sky still imprinted on the back of his eyelids. His hand hit the stone wall behind him, and if it was the wall of the Keep or Long Now or the Acropolis or his own house, he didn’t know.

Swooning, he pitched to the side. Fragments of foreign memory still plagued him with the echoes of sounds he didn’t recognize, like the unearthly roar of rage and anguish -

- and the broken cry of a disembodied voice -

- and the sound of -

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Sydney yawned noisily as the shade of his trigonometry teacher, Mrs. Rekdal, wrote out another equation on the blackboard. In life, Ms. Rekdal had been a tiny, crotchety Norwegian lady with a distinct distaste for nonsense. Apparently, her shade held similar attitudes.

She whirled around sharply and pointed her chalk at the classroom. “Who said that?” she demanded, beady eyes coming to rest on each and every student in turn. “If this is so boring, perhaps it’s time I assigned you another twenty problems for homework, eh?”

Sydney froze. Granted, he didn’t particularly care if they got another twenty problems (things like homework become meaningless when your entire afterlife is tied to the shadow memory of a high school), and he knew Ms. Rekdal would easily forget about the incident, but even after 50 years of trig lessons from her, incurring her wrath still shook him to the core.

The girl behind him - not one of the ones he’d finally managed to win over, sadly - kicked the bottom of his seat. “It was Poindexter!” she said. Her voice barely concealed her snickers. “He did it!”

Sydney turned to glare at her. “Real chummy of you, Kathy.”

She merely flashed him a cheeky grin.

“A-hem!”

Sydney yelped at the sharp crack of Ms. Rekdal’s ruler slapping against his desk. Sheepishly, trying to keep his shoulders from creeping up towards his ears, he turned back to meet her fiery gaze. She had always been one of those teachers that seemed like they could stare into your soul, and now felt no different.

“Well, Mr. Poindexter?” she said. She peered over the rims of her tortoise-shell glasses. “Tell me why I shouldn’t send all of you home with an extra hour of homework tonight, since you seem to be the wise guy here!”

He bit back a comment about how it was impossible for her to send them home with extra homework - for all intents and purposes, the echo of Casper High was home - and instead tried for an apologetic smile. “W-well, you see, ma’am, I -”

Ms. Rekdal disappeared.

Sydney blinked. “What the -” He waved a hand around where she’d been standing, but there was no trace of her. “Did you guys -”

He cut himself short when he turned around, only to see the rest of the class had disappeared too. Not even their bags and books and papers remained.

He stood up, and his chair fell to the ground with a clatter. “Alright, if this is someone’s funny idea of a prank, I’ll have ya know this is a lame one, buster!”

Something shifted outside the window.

Something of a girlish scream tore from his throat as he looked out the window only to see a big, gaping rip of pure darkness emerging against the already-dark horizon of the Ghost Zone. Around the edges, ectoplasm warped and wobbled. Neighboring doors and windows were swallowed whole, or disintegrated, or simply glitching.

Even through the glass, he could hear the distant sounds of a guttural, furious roar. His eyes flew open, and his core shuddered to a halt.

He knew that roar anywhere.

“I-impossible!” he gasped. He made to run for the door and tripped over his fallen chair. “He can’t be - he’s supposed to be locked away! I-I have to…”

Have to what? If his ears weren’t tricking him, if this truly was him… what could little old him do? He was a wimp! Nothing like the kind of person needed to beat him up! Nowhere near as strong as -

The answer hit him like a brick wall.

“Phantom!” He worked to untangle himself from the chair. “I’ve gotta -”

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Mr. Poindexter?”

Sydney blinked again, and Ms. Rekdal stood over him, arms crossed and eyes as beady as ever.

“What?” His ears fell deaf to the snickers of his classmates around him as he sat up, staring out the window.

The tear of darkness was gone. The roar had died away. The doors had been returned.

As if nothing had ever happened.

“Sit! Up! Poindexter!” Ms. Rekdal snapped at him. “Unless if you don’t think you need history class anymore, in which case I’m more than happy to send you straight to the principal’s office!”

Sydney stopped in the middle of righting his chair. “History class? But this is trig!”

This time, he heard his classmates’ giggles. “Wow, did you really hit your head that hard?” Kathy said, still laughing behind her hand. “Trig class, what a joke!”

“I don’t -”

“Enough!” Ms. Rekdal barked. “There’s been enough interruption to this class for one day! The next person to disrupt class will earn themselves a one way trip to a month’s worth of detention!”

Sydney gazed around the room helplessly. Sure enough, the posters of formulas had disappeared in favor of maps and posters with the presidents. Rather than the math they’d been working on before, the blackboard was covered in notes about the War of 1812. His classmates all sat in the same seats, but they held history textbooks in their hands instead of trigonometry textbooks.

His mouth formed around soundless words. This… it couldn’t be right. The shade never changed. It never changed. It was impossible! It was an echo, it couldn’t change! Everything always remained the same!

Until now. Until that rip in the sky. Until that roar.

Without another word, Sydney turned and fled out the door.

He had to warn someone.

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He fell into something squishy and warm and loud, something yelling his name into his ear. He flinched away from the sound. It grated too harshly on his ears. It only added to the cacophony of alien memories overwhelming him.

And yet worse than the peppering of unfamiliar memories and the swimming thoughts and the disorientation, was the intense burning that consumed his core and heart, inside and out. Like someone had taken him to the sun and dropped him inside. Or like someone had stabbed it with a knife of fire and blood blossoms.

Like being caught in the crossfire of life and death all over again.

He groaned weakly and drew his knees to his chest. It was too much to bear. Too much. Too hot. Too much like the memory of a razor-sharp sword swinging down into his eye -

- and the angry flames of a crown trying to reject him -

- and the -

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The Fright Knight sighed as he carefully petted Nightmare’s fiery mane. He did not own much; he was a servant to the throne, and the throne provided for him. He had no need for belongings, not like other ghosts. Even if he’d had belongings, he couldn’t guarantee they would even remain the same with the changing of the throne. Everything, even down to his armor, always changed.

Still though, there were a few things he could always count on having. His sword, for instance, christened as Sāwol Rīpere many centuries before, with the coronation of the most recent king. Of course, its name changed with each coronation of each new king, but the sword remained his. The tool with which to carry out his sacred charge.

And his beautiful mare. Her name too changed along with the sword’s (and his own), but she remained by his side throughout the centuries. His duty to the throne aside, Sāwol Rīpere and Nightmare were the two things he prized most. His two constants amidst an existence of rotating rulers and rotating identities.

Granted his relationship with Sāwol Rīpere, now better known by its more modern translation of Soul Shredder, had been strained over the past few centuries. Even now, sheathed and hanging at his side, he could feel its power itching to be freed, its need to reap souls to the Realm of Eternal Terrors, as it had been commissioned to do with the name it had been granted.

It was a power he despised.

And yet it was a power he couldn’t reject.

Not yet, at least.

He still managed to take comfort in Nightmare. Though her appearance had changed to evoke fear in those who saw her, to him, she was the same magnificent steed she had been millenia ago, back when she’d first been given to him. Their bond was strong, one-of-a-kind. No matter what, he knew he could rely on her to be his faithful companion.

As he stroked her neck and mane, though, he felt her muscles tense beneath his hand. Despite having no visible face, the Fright Knight frowned. “Nightmare? What troubles you?”

As if in response, a crashing force of energy slammed into them both.

The Fright Knight braced himself against the barrage. He’d found himself in the midst of many onslaughts before, but none so strong as this. Nightmare whinnied with anxiety, and he suspected the only reason she did not kick her hoof against the ground was because she too needed to brace herself against the force.

Almost as quickly as it came, it left, and in its wake came a rumble that caused his armor to clink together loudly. Across the sky of the Realms above him, green light flashed and forked, and with a great heave that he could feel in his core, it began to tear itself apart, exposing a darkness like none he had seen before.

At the same time, another sensation grew in his core, one that he’d not felt in many centuries. A certain yearning that strained against himself, one that demanded to be satisfied immediately. As he watched the tear in the sky grow, his eyes widened as the recognition of the yearning dawned on him.

“After all these years,” he whispered. “Could it be…?”

For a moment, he stood there, reveling in the feeling. True, this was not an entirely foreign pull on his core, but there was a distinct… lightness to it. Not heavy or forceful or with the sense of impending doom that had accompanied it the last time it had appeared. No, this one felt promising.

Like for the first time in hundreds of years, he could allow himself to hope again.

And then the next moment, yet another sensation wrapped its hot grasp around his core. He gasped at the familiar sting, and Nightmare reared with a loud neigh.

Of course she would. He knew she hated the sting as much as she did.

“Calm yourself!” he said, unable to keep the urgency out of his voice. He reached up to stroke her neck again, and she dutifully relaxed into his touch. Still though, she made sure to voice her displeasure through a series of nickers and grunts.

“I know, my mare.” He couldn’t resist how his fingers tightened around the tendrils of flame that formed her mane. “He’s been awakened again. He’s…” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to reassure his horse in the face of the revelation.

He swallowed thickly. The hot grip on his core was undeniable. It had held him captive for too long now, ever since a crown of flames was placed upon the new king’s head. He knew it all too well. His core demanded that he follow it, that he fulfill his duty to the throne.

And yet the new sensation, the new tug at his core… it too demanded his attention. Though softer and quieter than the sting, it beckoned to him as well. It told him of a duty that needed equally fulfilled. The same duty demanded by the sting.

He sighed again, shakily, and carefully untangled his fingers from Nightmare’s mane. The feeling of his core at conflict with itself was quickly becoming all too much for him to bear.

He needed to choose.

And he knew which one would win out in his core, regardless of his own desires.

Slowly, he mounted Nightmare. With a cry, he snapped the reins, and his mare took off like a rocket.

Headed straight for Pariah’s Keep.

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“No!”

His cry was strangled; his mouth felt too clumsy around it. The scratchiness in his throat didn’t help matters, and he couldn’t remember if it had been from all the screaming, but had it actually been him doing the screaming? He couldn’t remember, and he had too many memories jumbled around in his head.

And he had priorities. Like the last memory of the Fright Knight. And his panging, burning core.

His core, burning with the same hot grasp that had taken the hold of the Fright Knight.

Trembling, he blindly attempted to push himself away from whatever warm, soft thing he’d fallen on. “He’s -” he gasped, unable to catch his breath. “Pa- he’s…”

Voices around him drowned his own feeble voice out. They shouted, only adding to the overstimulation. Were they talking to him? Yelling at him? He couldn’t tell. It was like trying to listen underwater.

With another gurgle, his arms gave out from under him, and -

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He fell face first onto the stone floor. The dome of the Ecto-Skeleton shielded his face from most of the damage, but the force of the blow still shook his body and caused him to crash painfully against the side. Hopefully that crack in his ribs was more imagined than real.

Ignore it, he repeated to himself. The same mantra he’d been repeating to himself the entire fight. Do what needs to be done.

Still though, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing down at the dashboard.

19%.

18%.

17%.

Not enough.

It wouldn’t be enough.

Gritting his teeth, he summoned a picture of Amity Park to mind. Pushed out the pain. Pushed out the feeling of energy draining from him faster than he could replace it. Pulled in every desperate thought about the city and people he loved so much. His friends. His family.

Do what needs to be done. For them.

As he stumbled to his feet, gasping at how much energy even such a simple movement cost him, Pariah cackled above him, his laugh deep and thunderous. “Surrender, child!” he taunted from his place at the foot of the dais. “You can’t possibly win!”

Danny’s eyes narrowed.

16%.

15%.

Pariah was right. God, the thought made his stomach turn and his heart stutter, but Pariah was right.

There would be no winning here.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The sound of Pariah’s maniacal laughter was drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears. Each labored breath pushed his overworked lungs closer and closer to the brink of giving out. His heart and core had long since begun to fall out of their carefully maintained rhythm.

The image of Sam and Tucker, of Mom and Dad and Jazz, began to fade from his mind’s eye.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the tears threatening to fall.

He had to.

He had no choice.

Do what needs to be done.

He inhaled shakily. “I don’t need to win,” he said, making sure to look Pariah dead in the eye. With a heave, he summoned energy to his hands and shot twin blasts of turquoise ectoplasm.

Pariah, of course, ducked, but the blasts soared over his head and into the rubble at the top of the dais. With a deafening crash, the stone was exploded out of the way, revealing an ornate sarcophagus standing alone atop the dais, lid still opened and ready to welcome an occupant.

There would be no winning today.

14%.

13%.

Not for either of them.

Not if he could help it.

“I just need to make sure you lose!” he shouted, lunging forward. Pariah, whose confident aura had faltered at the sight of his old prison, stumbled back, never once averting his gaze from the Sarcophagus to see Danny.

Just before they collided, Danny made a desperate swipe above the king’s head. His fingers closed around hot metal, and he yanked with a great tug.

The Crown came loose.

If his life hadn’t been at stake, he probably would’ve laughed at the bewildered look on Pariah’s face. Unfortunately…

He looked down at the Crown in his hands. Back up to the Sarcophagus. Over to Pariah.

12%.

“NO!” Pariah’s scream was loud enough to shake bits of rubble from the ceiling.

Danny looked back down at the Crown. Something about it seemed to pulse in his hands, almost as if it were alive. He could feel the power within it. Even through the metal mecha, he could feel its richness, its fullness, how pure and unfiltered the power within was…

It reached toward him. He could feel it practically knocking at the door to his core, asking to be let in, and his core ached to do so. It was almost frightening how welcoming the power felt, and how much he found himself yearning to welcome it back.

If only…

11%.

Pariah began to recover from his shock, and in that instant, Danny made another split second decision.

He threw the Crown to the side and lunged forward again.

The instant it left his hand, Danny regretted that decision. The sudden absence of that power hit him like a brick wall, and he nearly faltered from the shock. Maybe he should’ve kept it. Maybe the ghosts were wrong about it only working with the Ring. Maybe it could’ve offered him something, anything, just something enough to make sure he lasted long enough to put this guy away for good.

When he came into contact with Pariah, though, those thoughts were thrown aside just as easily as the Crown.

He had a job to do.

Pushing the king up the dais was surprisingly easy, all things considered. Still ate up too much of his precious energy, but had he held onto the Crown any longer, Pariah would’ve had more of a chance to recover and brace himself against the attack. That would’ve cost him even more energy.

And it didn’t mean his heart didn’t tremble in his chest with every pained breath. Or that his ribs didn’t scream in agony. Or that his body felt any less battered and bruised as it probably was.

Just a little further.

Pariah growled, something feral and guttural, and he tried to dig his heels into the ground.

So close.

Danny pushed harder.

10%.

Something snapped inside him as they reached the top, and with a feral growl of his own, Danny shoved Pariah face-first into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep and shut the lid with a bang that resounded across the Zone.

For one blessed second, he felt lighter than air. Had he managed to do it? Had he really won?

And then the full force of Pariah’s power crashed against him.

Danny’s core skipped a beat as he frantically repositioned himself to hold down the lid tight. Pressed tight against the Sarcophagus with his head bent low, he couldn’t see much around him, but he felt it as the atmosphere around him began to shift violently. Ambient ectoplasm manifested into something tangible and swirled around Danny and the Sarcophagus like an angry cyclone.

Angry was definitely the right word for it. He could practically taste it in the air as the energy around him hummed.

(Little did he know that the same angry cyclone surrounded the kidnapped Amity Park.)

Something was on the brink of happening. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Something familiar.

He looked down at the dashboard.

9%.

8%.

Pariah roared wordlessly from within his prison, the noise nearly deafening in Danny’s ears. The king gave a particularly strong heave, and Danny gasped as he desperately pushed back.

The energy around them was becoming palpable now. It wanted… something. It wanted… to…

7%.

6%.

5%.

His eyes unfocused for a moment, no thanks to the exertion, and when they came back into focus, albeit somewhat blurry, they landed on the keyhole of the Sarcophagus.

His heart dropped like a stone.

The key. He didn’t have it.

No…

Oh God. Oh God. He…

He really wasn’t going to make it.

He wouldn’t win.

And Pariah would be able to walk free over his dead corpse like a welcome mat.

Oh God.

I’m gonna die.

4%.

And now he knew why the energy buzzing around them felt familiar. He’d experienced this before. The ectoplasm and the hum and the desire and the feeling like something was about to break and everything.

He didn’t have the energy to scream as flashes of blinding white and green light filled his mind. The memory of electricity coursing through his body, burning his insides away and reducing him to dust and rewriting him entirely, was almost enough to make him fall away from the door.

3%.

Almost.

He couldn’t breathe now. Whether it was because he was too weak or because the smell of burning flesh and ozone and ectoplasm haunted him or because of some other third reason, he had no clue. Tears fell freely down his cheeks.

Please, he begged silently. Why was he praying? Did he even believe in God? Was it some fit of desperation of hope of a life beyond this one?

2%.

His core felt ready to give out. His heart fluttered in an irregular beat. He was slumped against the Sarcophagus’ door, nothing more than dead weight against it. He was all too aware of the neural receptors attached to him, sapping away any last bit of life they could.

I don’t want to die…

The energy around him threatened to rip him open all over again.

I’m too scared…

Distantly, he felt something wrap around his core.

I’m too weak…

It wasn’t unpleasant, surprisingly enough. If anything it was… comforting?

I can’t do this…

1%.

He began to fall into a lifeless heap. He expected it to hurt as horribly as the rest of him, as badly as everything else had hurt him, but it was strangely soft. In a bizarre turn of events, he was reminded of one of the poems Lancer loved to drone on about. Something about going softly into the night.

Maybe that’s what dying would end up being.

I don’t want to die…

He couldn’t do it.

He couldn’t hold on.

He dropped.

Something clicked.

(The energy moved.)

The roar in his ears died away. His vision went black.

A voice tried to speak to him. He couldn’t understand it.

His core and heart slowed.

Rest. The thought was fuzzy, unclear, more of a feeling than a word. He couldn’t even tell if it was his own.

But he obeyed.

Maybe dying could be like going to sleep.

Maybe…

And as he lost the last threads of his consciousness, a new voice spoke to him, unfamiliar but clear as day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweet little Prince…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He choked back a cry of fear. That voice… Was it the memory, or was it speaking to him now?

With a jolt, he realized it was the same voice that had been giving him those thoughts since he’d entered the Ghost Zone not two hours earlier. Panic gripped his heart, and when the hot hold on his core gave a particularly strong squeeze, he gasped and clawed at his chest.

Leave me alone! He didn’t know if he said it out loud or not; he couldn’t tell. At this point, all he knew was the fear inside of him. Get out of my head!

It was Pariah. It had to be. How he’d gotten inside his head like this, he didn’t know, but it was the only explanation.

Another wave of panic seized him, and he began to claw with more desperation. On some distant, not quite conscious level, he drew on his core, willing the energy into his hands, only for it to respond with another stab of pain. He cried out.

A pair of hands seized his own. He instinctively drew on his core again in an attempt to go intangible and escape, but he was met with the same pain. Instead, he resorted to thrashing about, trying to free himself.

“Par… let go..!” he wheezed.

He couldn’t let Pariah get him again.

He couldn’t go through that again.

He couldn’t.

You won’t have to.

The voice only increased his vigor.

He jerked away from the hands as hard as he could, and -

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The force of the shudder had been enough to bring everyone in the Ancients’ chamber to their knees.

Save for young Phantom.

For a moment, Kala could only watch from his position pressed into the table as the child hung in the air, wrapped in a warped glow. The deathmark on his arm grew brighter and brighter, and frost began to spread on the floor and walls. Power tinged the room, a power that felt as light as a refreshing summer breeze and as strong as a mountain.

In that moment, Kala could believe that this child was truly the next High King, every bit deserving of the title of Pariah’s Bane.

And then Phantom fell and the illusion shattered.

The shudder was almost forgotten as the power and frost dissipated. The child landed on his feet but quickly fell first into the wall behind him, then into one of his human friends, the boy. The boy yelped Phantom’s name, and the other one, the girl, was quick to kneel at his side as well.

If the image of the child floating in the air, surrounded by power, had been kingly, the image of him writhing pathetically on the ground and whimpering nonsense was anything but. Kala found himself at a loss.

He’d never seen anything like this.

Frostbite and Pandora’s attendant reacted immediately, rushing to help ease Phantom off of the human boy. “He’s burning up,” Frostbite murmured. In his arms, the child looked small, weak. He pressed two claws to Phantom’s chest, and Pandora’s attendant took Phantom’s hands in hers to keep him from flailing too much. “His core is overheating.”

“It was that - that earthquake, or whatever you call it!” The human girl sprang to her feet and looked helplessly at the other Ancients. “It’s been doing that all day, that’s what we were trying to say before!”

Zunje grabbed the tablet that had been thrown from her hands. “It’s done this each time?” She began to scroll furiously. “But why would it overheat? Why would it respond so poorly? If it’s the Heart at the root of all this, it shouldn’t…” She trailed off, muttering to herself.

Phantom cried out unintelligibly, trying to shake off the attendant’s grasp, but she held tight, singing something quietly in ancient Greek.

Kala’s frown deepened. Something was not right.

“No king before has ever had such a… violent reaction to being told of their ascension,” he remarked.

The human girl’s eyes flashed his way, and to his surprise, he found himself mildly impressed by the fierce, determined shine in them. “It’s not that! He wouldn’t… It’s gotta be something else! This doesn’t just happen!”

“Precisely,” Kala agreed with a nod. “Perhaps this truly is the work of the Heart. Perhaps it is attempting to reject him.” The idea made sense to him. In spite of whatever image he’d been presented with earlier, he couldn’t accept the notion that Kilaris would choose a half-breed child of all possible candidates. He simply couldn’t! It violated every unspoken law that had already been established!

… Right?

“But the Heart’s rejected folks before,” Babel said. “It’s never done anything like this before. I mean, even if he ain’t the guy…”

“... Kilaris would never inflict harm like this upon one of its own,” Pandora finished.

Kala hummed. “Then it must be someone else’s doing.”

“What?” The human boy glanced at him. “I thought Vlad said that was impossible. Like, someone would have to actually be here to hurt him that way.”

“No, yeah, that’s about right,” Zunje said. She did not look up from her tablet. “Core interference has gotta be a direct thing. Only a strong magic can do anything from a distance.”

“So then it is the Heart,” Pele said with a grunt.

Zunje bit her lip. “I… I don’t know? It’s… I can’t tell?” She stabbed a finger at the tablet. “I’m trying to, but it’s not…”

Phantom rolled in Frostbite’s arms. “P… pah…” he gasped, as though his mouth struggled to form around the sound.

Frostbite himself rumbled. “He needs to cool down. I’d offer to maintain his core temperature myself, but…” His eyes flickered in Pandora’s direction. “I… worry about the practicalities. I may have something that can help, though.”

“Here.” Pandora’s attendant shifted to sit on her ankles. “Go. I will keep him as stable as I can.”

Frostbite seemed hesitant, but after a brief moment of indecision, he carefully lowered the child into the attendant’s lap. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised, and Kala couldn’t quite decide if it had been directed more towards the attendant or Phantom himself.

As Frostbite disappeared through the door of thick ice, Kala turned his attention back to Zunje. “Can you not give us any report?” he asked.

“Believe me, I’m trying. My sensors are going nuts. Things are just so inconsistent…”

There was a loud crack, and suddenly, Babel stood on Zunje’s shoulder. “Lemme see!” They made a grab for the tablet. “Inconsistent is my middle name.”

“You don’t have a middle name.”

“Well, if I did, it would be inconsistent.”

Phantom began trying to speak again. Pandora’s attendant leaned in closer. “Say that again,” she whispered.

Still, the child’s mumbles seemed unintelligible to him.

The human girl had gone back to staring at her friend, picking blindly at her fingers. “So… you were being serious about Danny being a - a king?” she asked quietly.

Pandora nodded. “Very much so. I’ve admittedly had my suspicions for a while now…” She trailed off, glancing at Kala. “But it’s been speculation at best. I’d hoped for his sake that I was wrong, but…”

“Wait, what? Why? Is it dangerous or something?”

Pele snorted. “Danger lies in all things. It is never a question of if. It’s a question of how much.”

“The throne is not inherently a dangerous office,” Pandora said quickly, having seen the way both humans paled considerably. “My concern was… mainly in terms of his age. Even by your human standards, he is young.” Her gaze softened as it came to rest on the delirious Phantom. “It is an incredible burden to ask of anyone, especially for someone as young as he.”

“Right. Yeah.” The human boy licked his lips. “Definitely not dangerous to put a teenager in charge of an entire dimension. Nope.”

“Do not get me wrong. I firmly believe he’ll make a great king, given time.”

“If he is to be king,” Kala said before he could stop himself. “I am still not certain that he is the Heart’s chosen. Especially given these… troubles.”

“You can’t deny that he has some connection to Kilaris,” Pandora protested. She gestured to her attendant, still holding the child in her lap and leaned in close. “How else can you explain a reaction such as this?”

Kala opened his mouth to answer before realizing he didn’t have one. How could he explain it? As much as he loathed to admit, the evidence did seem to point to the boy as the next king. He would, as always, wait to finish gathering all evidence before making a decision, but he couldn’t deny the signs.

He also couldn’t deny the doubt that refused to be satisfied, deep in his core.

The door of ice opened again, and Frostbite re-entered the chamber, holding a bundle of fabric in one of his paws. He wasted no time returning to young Phantom’s side.

“Here.” Gently, he lifted the child’s shoulders and secured the fabric around his neck. “I was saving this as a gift, but… he needs it now.”

Kala watched with attentive eyes as Frostbite carefully wrapped the outer folds of the cloak around Phantom, effectively cocooning him.

His eyes opened.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clockwork hummed a little tune to himself as he spun the dial on his staff. In front of him, a time window showed the image of young Danny, emerging from a portal.

A black, frosted crown sat on Danny’s head.

Clockwork would’ve liked to watch the boy in real time. Sadly, the Observants had made sure to block his view into the Ancients’ chamber long ago.

He’d have to settle for offering a tiny bit of assistance from afar.

Hopefully Frostbite wouldn’t be too upset with him for adding his own little touch to Danny’s gift.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #ghost king danny #hannah writes #supernova #fanfiction #danny phantom fanfiction #dp fanfiction #fanfic #what did i tag these with before #i can't remember #anyway off to finish off part 2 afshdkjladfskj

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jojotichakorn · 3 months

Note

ask game - top five favourite female characters :3

ok so we collectively decided that i will do top five from dramas and then top five from other forms of media, so this is gonna be a long post 😌

top five favourite female characters from dramas

number one. koh ae ri from the eighth sense

she is for real one of my favourite secondary characters of all time. she is so funny and i absolutely love the way she teases her friends, bullying IS a love language yes. i also love how confident and slightly over-the-top she is, she can really stand up for herself and other people as well, which is an admirable quality. also, i am side-eyeing her and her bestie. 🫵🏳️‍🌈⁉️ ykwim

number two. ink from bad buddy

we all know what i think about bad buddy but that doesn't mean there aren't any characters in that series who i still cherish, and ink is definitely one of them! i feel like everything in the world has already been said about her and i don't even have to explain myself. we all love her.

number three. hashimoto mio from kieta hatsukoi

she is an icon, she is a legend, etc. etc. she is so so sweet and wonderful but can also hit you across the face so hard that you fly away if you deserve it. i don't even think that's like dramatic effect exaggeration, she will kick your ass if you're acting like a fucking idiot and i love that about her.

number four. choi yu na from semantic error

true bicon of our generation. greatest fashion sense in the world. so very tired of your bullshit (and that's absolutely fair). a great friend. *bows fifty times in respect*

number five. sunny from our dating sim

she doesn't get too much screen time but i love everything about what we see of her. she is very no-nonsense and deadpan, but also very emotionally intelligent and compassionate (she literally helps lee wan figure out why he started drawing and why it's still important to him, like she literally changes his life with one small conversation). what a legend.

top five favourite female characters from other media

number one. brienne of tarth from game of thrones (tv show)

ok yeah yeah horrible tv show. ANYWAY. i am fucking obsessed with brienne. she is SO!!!! KDGJDFJGDFJGKDF. sorry. what am i even supposed to say. she is a warrior both metaphorically and literally. she is the most knight-coded character of all time. no man can compare to her in knightly qualities. she is noble, she is loyal, she is fair. she is fucking iconic.

number two. clementine from the walking dead games (video game series)

i grew up with clem, actually. i was just a couple of years older than her when i first watched a playthrough of twdg. i suppose we have to make some space for the fact that she is a protagonist in 2.5/4 games, meaning that every player kind of decides what kind of a person she is on their own. but i think overall, no matter what choices you make, she always remains a very strong and resilient person. despite everything she's lost, she doesn't lose her humanity and manages to take great care of her found family (and her adopted younger brother, shout out to our murder baby aj <3). i am very proud of her, almost like she is a literal person who grew up in front of my eyes.

number three. lae'zel from baldur's gate 3 (video game)

ok, now this one was hard. not because i don't love lae'zel so much, but because there is an insanely long list of female characters from bg3 that i absolutely adore, and choosing just one was hard. in lae'zel's place, there could have been shadowheart or karlach or jaheira or either isobel or aylin from everyone's favourite divine lesbian duo or nine-fingers or or or. i can go on forever. but i picked lae'zel for this post. so, first thing you should know about her is that she can step on you and you will be thanking her for it if she does. she is just 21 years old, yet she goes through a completely worldview-shattering experience and comes out the other side not just alive, but with her head held high. her quote "what good this heart of stone, for it to be shattered?" absolutely kills me every time. i'm gonna stop here, but i could go on forever actually yes.

number four. josephine montilyet from dragon age inquisition (video game)

very similar situation with the dragon age games and the amount of characters i could choose. morrigan, isabela, and sera in particular were very strong contenders for this space. but i ended up choosing josie for this post. she is a very sweet and romantic character. she used to be a spy (and she actually got into it because she thought it sounded romantic - she's whimsical like that), but then she ended up killing someone she knew and that experience changed her forever. she is now a very successful diplomat, determined to deal with world's problems through any means other than violence. she is very open-minded, understanding, and just an absolutely lovely person overall.

number five. anne elliot from persuasion by jane austen (novel)

choosing a favourite jane austen herione is like choosing a favourite child, but here we are. the photos are from two different adaptations, and i appreciate both of them in different ways, though i don't think we have a 10/10 adaptation of persuasion just yet. anyway, anne is naturally a rather timid and people-pleasing person, which i think a lot of us can relate to, but throughout the book she really finds her own voice and stands her ground, while simultaneously not having to completely change her personality, which i really appreciate. not everyone can be sarcastic or witty or strong-willed and that's ok. she also definitely shines as the undeniably smartest austen herione, as she figures out all the secrets, decidedly does not trust clearly untrustworthy albeit charming gentlemen, and is overall incredibly sensible, which means it's very easy to read her inner dialogue, because you never find yourself sighing at how blind she is at something that's happening. she sees everything. being inside her head is a great time.

#this is very rambly but you know kgjdflkjkfdlg #also can u tell im a gaymer lmao #archer responds #dee tag

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songship · 1 year

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Xenoblade 3 rambling under the cut (spoilers for all of the base game, I guess)

Xenoblade 3's biggest flaw, I think, is that it's paced really weird in terms of story, gameplay, and the relationship to one another. This is the most glaring post-chapter 4 and onward. The earliest example of this is when you get access to the Cadensia region. This is the part of the game where the majority of side content (in the form of Hero Quests; if I'm not mistaken you also unlock the party side stories at this time as well) opens up to you, but it opens up at a really odd time where you're only a couple hops away from a story segment that you'll be locked into progressing for an extensive amount of time until after the next chapter. The game does warn you of this point of no return, but it's nevertheless positioned at an odd time.

Timing aside though, the fact is that the majority of the game's side content is back loaded, which can make it a slog to clear (you are incentivized to do these to unlock classes due to the level capping system). There's not any real reason to do this; the majority of these could very easily be moved to a different location or have their level lowered such that they're not gated effectively until you're around that level (a side tangent: it's both absurdly easy to over level & heavily disadvantageous to do so because of the way the SP system scales inversely to levelling. In my playthrough I either missed that tool tip or it's not information that was given at all; I'm not sure which. If you're coming like me from a baseline of other games in the series where it's fairly common to overlevel slightly to moderately, it's going to negatively impact your gameplay experience to be suddenly punished for playing Xenoblade how you've always played Xenoblade.)

In terms of story, the couple latter chapters definitely feel rushed, in contrast to the glut of side content you'll be trying to complete at that time. While I really love some plot beats & moments (the whole chapter 5 to 6 sequence, Shania's whole deal, meeting Nia, the ending cutscene) I really think it suffers from both a lack of detail and a lack of allowing plot beats to sit longer; in short, things needed more time to be more fleshed out instead of conveying themes and plot beats through sort of gesturing at them and hoping the audience will fill in the blanks and imagine a more fleshed out story/character arcs (in particular, Lanz and Sena's character arcs really really suffer from this, Sena especially. She isn't even really the central character of her own side story!! This is particularly noticeable in contrast to the love and detail Eunie, Taion, Noah, and Mio's stories get both in the main plot and in their side stories. Speaking of Mio's side story, I do find it really cheap with regards to Miyabi's resurrection (Ethel and Cammuravi are not great too but there's definitely potential there, it just suffers from the same "gesturing at idea of a story beat rather than playing it out" problem most of the latter third of Xenoblade does) as I feel like it does undercut/do somewhat of a disservice to Mio's character arc?)

To wit, I propose my "ideal" director's cut version of Xenoblade 3 would be split into disc 1 and disc 2, being split at chapter 4. The side content would be redistributed such that it's more or less equal between them instead of being so backloaded like before. This would also include lengthening the latter part of the story, allowing for generally more elaboration on thematic elements & conclusions, plot beats, etc. with room to maybe even squeeze in some new ones.

This is all in service of, instead of what we got (just vaguely kinda gesturing at it for two (2) scenes) allowing Sena and Shania to have the toxic codependent homoerotic relationship they deserve

#jasper.txt #xenoblade 3 #dgmw i really do like Xenoblade 3 #i just wish it was better #its very funny to me that xenoblade 3s biggest problem imo is being a 100 hour jrpg that really needs to be a 200 hour jrpg #anyways yeah what xenoblade 3 needs is more fucked up yuri #whatevers going on with eunie and ashera is great but we need more

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tealenko · 2 years

Text

Didn't Have the Heart (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4: A Friend in Need

Hey... I'm alive XDDDDDDD No seriously, thanks for the patience (I'm soooooo glad to be back) Hope you're doing fine!!! Against all odds, I'm in love with this one. Btw, sorry again to the Liara stans... Well, I'm not sorry... I'm actually giving her an amazing development that's making me like her waaaaaaaay more than what Bioware was never able to acomplish lol, and, as I said before, nothing against her... This is just how I imagine the character in MY story.

I swear I don't have anything against Liara (well, maybe a little, but that's because she can't avoid being an asari lol). Anyways, don't freak out by what I do at the beginning if you really like her, I promise this ends well for both of them.

Summary: Now is Kaidan's turn to confront the universe and face the fact that, for better of for worse, her relationship with Shepard is no longer a secret.

Words: 3343 Rating: Teens and up, I guess?

Read in AO3 -> [link] Previous Chapter -> [Link] Next Chapter -> [Link] Through Hell and Back series -> [link]

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His eyes only need a few seconds to get used to the brightness of the room, his brain, on the other hand, needs much more time before it’s able to catch up with the rest of his body.

The first thing Kaidan does, once his head is used to the light too, is extend an arm and look for someone who, to his dismay, is no longer there, and he quickly starts to wonder how long it’s been since his last night companion decided to leave his side.

Summoning all his strength, he sits up slowly and switches on his omni-tool to take a look at his schedule.

“Thirteen hours…” He says out loud, thinking that hearing what he already knows will somehow make it more believable. “I’ve been asleep for thirteen hours.”

And I go back to work… In two. He adds in his mind, after looking at when his next shift is. Okay then, I guess I should get going...

Despite his thoughts, he doesn’t move. In fact, he’s so far from exiting the room that he doesn’t even look at the door. Instead, he redirects his eyes to the pillow laying next to his own.

Kaidan stares at the ivory cloud for a couple seconds before grabbing it, and, after a thorough inspection, he curls around it, giving it a soft hug as he reminisces flashes of what happened in his room thirteen hours ago.

Her scent is still present on the pillow, sweet and airy, fresh and light, with hints of a flower he’s never been able to decipher, and with an overall feeling that reminds him of the autumn air right when the storm it’s about to break.

This familiar smell, that simultaneously soothes and tortures his soul, is the only thing keeping him from thinking that what happened last night was only a dream.

Why didn’t you wake me up? He wonders, deepening the hug, afraid to lose what really grounds him to reality. Why leave just like that? He starts to worry, trying his best to look into his mind in order to find in anything they’ve shared the reason behind her actions.

Ahead of being swallowed by whirlpool of what ifs, a tide of sweet memories comes to aid him. Echoes from their past come back to his mind just in time to rescue him before the storm breaks inside of him, strucking right into his heart like a glowing lightning and leaving behind many flashes of her words.

I’ve just realized… Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

You should go and rest, you’ve earned it.

Let me store this away, you must be tired.

You deserve to take a break.

How are you feeling?

You’re not sleeping, Kaidan?

“Of course…” He says to himself, finally finding the will to stand up and start walking to leave the room. “It wouldn’t be you…” He smiles before finishing his sentence inside of his head. Ayyy Mio… When are you going to learn? Who needs to rest… I… I just need you by my side when I wake up.

Feeling like a new man, after taking a long shower and a quick shave, Kaidan heads as fast as he’s able to the kitchen, feeling hungrier than ever.

In just a few seconds, he grabs all the leftovers he’s able to find from the lunch serving and starts to look for a place to sit.

On his never ending quest to avoid direct light, he chooses the darkest area and starts eating the moment he gets there, not even realizing he hasn’t picked anything to drink, way too distracted by how hungry he is.

Nevertheless, after a few quick bites, a bottle of water magically appears in front of him, making him stop eating for a moment to raise his head to find out who is the person making the kind offering.

“It seemed to do wonders for the Commander… I think it will help you too.”

Kaidan does his best to swallow as fast as he’s able in order to express his gratitude.

“I… Well, thanks, Liara.” He smiles at the asari, suddenly realizing how thirsty he is. “You truly are a gift.”

She smiles and shakes her head, taking a few seconds before talking again, a bit surprised about how different his behavior is from Shepard’s a few hours ago, so calmed and relaxed despite the massive hangover she assumes he must have.

“Do you mind if…” She attempts to ask, pointing at the chair situated in front of him, but he replies before she’s able to finish her question.

“Of course! Take a seat…” Kaidan smiles one more time before resuming with his meal, although this time he manages to control his manners a little in order to eat like a normal human being. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah…” She lies, both to herself and Kaidan, quickly changing her mind about her answer after giving the whole question a second thought. “I mean no… Well… I don’t know.”

He stares at her for a few seconds, trying to find a hint of her feelings on her expression.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but, if you ever need a shoulder...” He smiles at her, giving her a friendly tap on the arm before resuming his meal. “Nothing good comes from fighting wars on our own, you know that, right?”

Liara smiles back instinctively, focusing on him as a lot of her worries and questions start to disappear, finding right in front of her, in his behavior, the solution to many of them.

“Yeah…” She says, more to herself than outloud, getting a bit lost in her own thoughts “Maybe you’re right...”

“You know I am.” He adds emphatically, making her come back to reality at lightspeed. “So, if you ever need anything… Do not hesitate to ask.”

She replies with a smile but doesn’t say anything else, both of them remaining in complete silence for the next few minutes, until he’s finished eating all his meal and drinking all his water.

“Feeling better, Major?”

“Ah, yeah. Please…” He’s about to ask her to forget about his rank, but some quick flashes of the previous night quickly advise him to do otherwise and let it go. “Nevermind.” He relaxes and sits back a little, quickly looking for something else to say. “By the way, you mentioned Shepard earlier, she was okay, right?”

“Ah, yes… Well… She almost killed me for raising my voice…” She takes a second before adding, in a lower tone of voice, “among other things.”

Kaidan doesn’t need anything else to understand there’s something more to the whole situation than what she’s telling.

“Are you two okay?”

“Yes. Never better.” Liara sighs, remembering the whole conversation. “Remind me never to bother Shepard when she’s with a hangover, though.”

Kaidan laughs at her comment, picturing very clearly the scene in his mind.

“Ha. I’m getting the impression you won’t need any help remembering that.”

“Yeah…” Liara smiles at him, watching him clearing the table as she speaks. “And, answering your first question, she is quite well… Or at least feeling better.”

“Good to hear.” He replies, standing up with the intention to clean up his tray. “Well, then…”

“You truly care, don’t you?” Liara asks, taking him completely by surprise with the quick change of subject. “About her.”

Kaidan stays frozen for a couple of seconds, hesitating what he should say next, finally leaving his tray slowly back on the table and sitting again on his chair.

“Well… I…” He says, drumming his right hand’s fingers on the table as he clears his throat. “Yes. I do care about her.”

Liara looks at him for a few seconds and, while she attempts to find the right thing to say next, Kaidan quickly interrupts her line of thoughts, with something inside of him that desperately needs to state the obvious.

“Care…” He almost whispers, meeting his gaze with the asari’s as a big smile forms on his face. “Care is not even close to…”

Kaidan falls silent mid sentence, realizing he is, in fact, talking out loud, which gives Liara a few seconds to reorder her thoughts and return to the conversation.

“What, then?” He looks at her confused before she clarifies her question. “What comes close?”

“I…” Kaidan smiles even more, shaking his head a couple of times and taking a moment before putting his feelings into words. “I just… I love her.” He starts laughing a little, still in awe, after all these years, by the way that Shepard takes up every little corner of his heart. “I love her so freaking much… I mean, you have no idea.”

Kaidan laughs even more and gets comfortable in his chair, letting the hundreds of memories he has of her invade her mind for a few seconds.

“I’m starting to…” She replies, answering his smile with one of her own. “And…” Liara hesitates for a second, rearranging her thoughts mid sentence. “Yeah.”

“And?” He asks, completely aware there’s something else bothering her that she’s not sharing.

“...”

“As I told you before, you don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to… Just… Don’t forget the option is there, eh?”

“I’m fine… But thanks for the offer.”

“My pleasure.” Kaidan smiles at her, making her feel even more guilty than before. “Sure you’ll be okay?” He asks once again, fearing there’s more than what he’s able to see. “I was going to leave… But I can stay if you want to, or maybe we can do something else? I have a deck of cards somewhere in my room, I can go for them and…”

“Kaidan…” Liara cuts him mid speech, unable to stand his kindness any longer, feeling way too much remorse to remain silent after seeing him try his best to cheer her up. “Please…”

“Has this anything to do with what you mentioned? Your conversation with Shepard? You two had a disagreement, right? That’s what’s bothering you?”

“In a way…”

“Don’t give it too much of a thought, Liara…” He says, trying to comfort her. “Shepard is always extremely cautious of not sharing anything with anyone, so, when she cannot deal with things any longer, she just fires against the closest target that gives her any small reason to do so.”

He tries to remember some of their arguments, analyzing the patterns to give her his best advice, while Liara’s awe for the man in front of him increases by the second, only outstaged by the regret that her own past words keep scarring into her conscience.

“Give her time to calm down and I assure you everything will go back to normal.”

She stares at Kaidan with a new light, wondering how blind she must have been to be unable to see him as he is until now.

“Hmm…” She mumbles, not knowing what she should say next.

“As long as you don’t mess with anyone she’s close to, you’ll be fine. Plus, she’s never been the kind to hold a grudge if you’re willing to talk about it…” He laughs a little. “Believe me.”

“Yeah, I’m aware…” She smiles faintly at him, getting lost once again in her own thoughts.

“So… Want to tell me what happened?” Kaidan asks with the sweetest tone of voice he’s able to summon. “Maybe I can help… I can talk to her, if you want to… Or at least I can be used as a tool for you to vent about it.”

He laughs a little, trying his best to lighten up the mood, but it seems that his kind efforts, far from comforting his friend, are having the exact opposite effect.

“The thing is… I… I…” She hesitates for a moment, not knowing how she should phrase what she desperately needs to tell him. “I… How did you put it? Ah yeah… I messed with someone close to her.”

Kaidan’s smile quivers for a second, already knowing where the whole conversation is heading to.

“I see.”

“Said some things I shouldn't have…” She begins to explain, testing the waters. “Well, quite a lot, in fact, and… And… If I’m honest, I think I’ve never seen her angrier.”

He studies every one of her sentences with care, trying to understand better what happened and find a solution that may help her situation.

“Talk to her, explain yourself… She’ll understand…”

“I already did. She already did...” Liara takes a moment to breathe, getting ready for what is about to happen next. “Everything’s fine between us.”

Kaidan is now more confused than ever, seeing the whole thing isn’t heading where he was thinking.

“So, what’s the problem, then?”

“The problem… The problem is, that I said something terrible, and yes… I’ve apologized for my words already… But… But… In my heart, I know, that my apology wasn’t addressed to the right person.

“I…” All the pieces of the puzzle start to come together as one as he starts to understand where her hesitation to talk with him was really coming from since the beginning. “...see.”

“Kaidan, I…”

“Please… Don’t even mention it, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not… The things I said about you, about your relationship with her… What I told her she should do…” Liara’s words start to hasten as they come out of her mouth, desperately trying to lighten all the remorse that invades her. “I have no excuse, none… For everything I said about you.”

The tears start to accumulate in the asari’s eyes while she does her best to keep them from falling down.

“I… I was trying… No. I shouldn’t excuse myself.” She shakes her head a couple of times. “My words were unfair, and cruel, and wrong… And… I’m really in no position to judge your actions Kaidan… I see that now. ”

“I’m sure everything came from a place of concern.”

“You don’t even know…”

“It’s okay.” He interrupts her. “I don’t need to.”

Kaidan smiles, grabbing and squeezing her wrist for a few seconds in an attempt to cheer her up.

“And… That’s it?” The accumulated guilt in her body quickly starts to morph into confusion after witnessing the reaction to her words. “Aren’t you bothered by anything I just said?”

“Not really, no…” He answers after analyzing his feelings, thinking about the whole situation for a second. “I mean, do you have anything against me right now?”

“Goddess, no. Of course not.” Liara replies immediately, fearing part of her message got lost in translation. “That’s why I wanted to apologize. I… I made a mistake, my worries were unfounded, and subjective, and overall misguided… And… And…”

“Liara…” Kaidan’s smile deepens even more. “Relax, It’s okay…”

“And why aren't you angry with me?” She asks in a more desperate tone than intended, both dumbfounded and confused by his behavior, feeling completely unworthy of the way he is reacting to the whole situation.

“Angry?” He laughs a little before resuming his speech. “Now I know how she feels when we ask her…”

“I’m being serious Kaidan…”

“So am I…” Despite his answer, his smile starts to fade little by little, leaving the room in an awkward silence as he looks to the ceiling for a couple of seconds, spending a moment there to take a deep breath before redirecting his eyes back to her.

“Liara…” He starts saying, with a way more serious yet still relaxed demeanor. “How could I be angry if I have the exact same worries that you have?”

“You don’t really mean that, Kaidan.”

“I... I actually do, yeah.” He replies without hesitation, just as calm as he was before.

Kaidan contemplates his own words for a second, trying to find the best way possible to convey his true feelings.

“You see, there’s always going to be that voice inside of me that, once in a while, likes to remind me that I’m not really worthy of her… I mean, it’s been there since the beginning…” Kaidan smiles, reflecting about the whole situation. “But that’s okay. It’s only natural, I suppose, Afterall… We are talking about Mio here. So… Who could ever be worthy?”

Liara immediately smiles as an answer to his words, unable to do anything else after witnessing the depth of his friend’s feelings.

Nevertheless, once she’s able to process everything, there’s something about his last sentence that bewilders her enough to break the enchantment a little, piquing her curiosity just the right amount to make her inquire.

“Mio?” She asks him, completely unaware of the true meaning of the term.

“Yeah…” Kaidan replies, with a few seconds of overall confusion, until he understands the situation. “Oh, right. Shepard...” He laughs a little, finding it amusing that her name slipped out of his mouth that easily. “You’ll see… Sometimes… It doesn’t come naturally, for me, to call her by her last name… Sorry for the confusion.”

“No… It’s okay, I just…” She takes a small pause, thinking about it for a second. “I’ve never heard anyone using it… I mean, I didn’t even know...”

Liara’s thoughts start to turn against her for a few seconds, as she begins to wonder how good of a friend she really is if she didn’t even know her true name. Luckily, Kaidan is able to read it in her expression and react fast enough to erase any hesitation from her mind.

“Well, now you do.” He says endearingly to her. “Welcome to the club… I was feeling quite lonely in here.” He laughs as gives her a soft nudge on her shoulder, making her relax and smile back at him. “And don’t worry about it. No one knows it… I truly am the exception that proves the rule.”

“You really are, aren’t you?” She replies finally at ease with the whole situation, giving more than one meaning to his statement with her question.

Kaidan smiles, taking a second before talking again, hoping that he’s finally managed to put an end to all her worries and found a way to ease her feelings.

“So… Everything good? Now that we’ve, eh… Cleared up the air, so to speak?”

“Yeah… I think so.” She answers, relieved that he knows what happened. “I still owe you a proper apology, though. A full explanation.”

“Ah… I already know you’re sorry, why waste our time brooding on the same stuff.” Kaidan stands up and grabs his tray, already prepared to leave the whole thing behind. ”Come on, let me buy you a coffee.”

“Okay.” She smiles and nods, following his lead and standing up. “We’ll need to brew a new pot… Shepard decimated what was left of the last one.”

“Cannot say that I’m surprised, after what happened yesterday…”

The two walk together towards the kitchen area and, as Kaidan empties and clears his tray, Liara starts to set the coffee maker.

Once she’s done with the preparation process, she sits on the other side of the island, looking at Kaidan as he cleans every dirty tray left behind by the crew in addition to his own, thinking about their whole conversation and the way he talked about Shepard, finally understanding what the whole picture looks like now that she’s been able to put together all the pieces she needed to complete her puzzle.

“You’re wrong, by the way.” She tells him, now with a big smile on her face, mirroring the same words that were used against her only a few hours ago.

“About?”

“You’re exactly what she needs… What she’s always needed.”

“I…” Kaidan takes his time washing the last tray left on the pile as he processes her words, leaving it next to the others before turning around to look at his friend. “You really think that?”

“Yes.” She smiles and grabs him gently by the arm, mimicking the gesture that Kaidan used a few minutes ago to comfort her. “Yes I do.”

“I… Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, really… Thank you.” Kaidan insists. “That… That you think that, well… Means way more than a thousand apologies.”

----------------------------------

Boom! Who thought I'd ever write such a lovely friendship moment between these two? Because I didn't XDDDD I'm glad to have adressed this in my fic... And I'm also excited for the next one (Vega and Garrus are back in the roster babyyyyy ehehehehe) Feeling very proud of this one when it comes to my writing btw... Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Have a nice day <3 <3

#mass effect #commander shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #shepard x kaidan #fshenko #mass effect 3 #femshep x kaidan #fanfic

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juwon-ah-moved · 2 years

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predictably: top 5 beyond evil scenes/moments. but also if you want to, i’m gonna be totally narcissistic and ask: top 5 rahul fics/moments from rahul fics 🥺 i have some others in my head but i’ll let you answer this ask first 😭 love youuuuuuu 🥰💙💛

hii rahul mio caro !!! great questions omg <3

top 5 beyond evil scenes (or at least those that come to mind skdsnj):

juwon-ah, ep 16 i mean. is anyone surprised look at my url LMAO i just. the way dongsik offers himself to juwon while simultaneously juwon lets himself be at the mercy of dongsik... it's SO fascinating their dynamic, they both want to give each other all they can possibly give and at the same time are telling the other: don't break yourself into pieces for me. and this scene is like The Culmination of all that. dongsik telling juwon to arrest him and then taking his hand, smiling at him with so much softness and juwon completely breaking down. changed my life forever no joke

I WILL- I WILL .............. GO TO HELL. ep 15. you and me and ellis have talked about this scene so much already but GOD it's the guilt that's swallowing juwon whole and the way all he wants to do is atone, for his own sins, FOR HIS FATHER'S SINS, and he's sinking to his knees in front of dongsik saying, promising he will go to hell and suffer immeasurable torture just so dongsik won't have to break anymore AND so he, juwon, can get what he thinks he deserves. MAN I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS. N E V E R .

the scene from ep 16 i giffed this morning (here) like it's SUCH a pivotal scene in my opinion. we see dongsik tell juwon straight out that he did nothing wrong and he's not at fault for the horrible acts his father committed. he doesn't have to sacrifice himself. for him. that's not what he's asking of him, actually he's not asking anything of him if not that he doesn't put himself in further danger. and i also think the way juwon is so quiet during most of the scene is so interesting and important. we've seen juwon say he's gonna break himself into pieces, go to hell, to atone. now he's being told he doesn't have to do that. he shouldn't do that. and all he says is: first, he won't apologize. secondly, "i'm sorry". we see how much dongsik's opinion and feelings matter to him and we see it in the rest of the episode too, in how they team up to bring down han ki hwan, how they're partners, they've been for a while but now they've elevated to another level. they're one. SORRY I HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS SMKDSNDSK

the scene in ep 8 where jaeyi finds out about her mother. SO heartbreaking i was literally sobbing and choi sung eun did a FANTASTIC job. the denial, the realisation when she sees her mother's hairpin, the way she breaks down. my dear, lovely jaeyi :((((

the scene at the end of ep 7 where juwon and dongsik go to arrest jinmuk. JUWON'S ENTRANCE YOU ARE SO SEXY AND COOL I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU- and "are you here alone?" "of course not" and juwon TURNS AND SO DOES JINMUK AND WE SEE DONGSIK'S SHADOW I'M AAAAAAAA the cinematography ???? the pathos ????? LITERALLY UNPARALLELED. ep 7 is a masterpiece of his own.

honorable mentions:

in ep 8, the date (yes.) scene, "i'm curious because i don't understand." and the way dongsik ponders over that for a second and then explains. absolutely adore how much they try to understand each other throughout the series. also in ep 8, "i'm glad you're here" brb crying

just juwon's cool girl era. ep 10. he's sitting on a bench looking like he just got over a horrible break up and he now could conquer the world. sunglasses. long black coat. new haircut. "dongsik is gonna WISH he still had me."

the scene in ep 2 where dongsik helps a young disabled man who's lost in the rain, gives him his shoes, his umbrella, and juwon looks at him like he's never seen anything or anyone like him

i could go on and on and on ...... i tried to also choose scenes neither you nor ellis had chosen. for variety sdskdsn (except you know. those scenes.)

okay this is so long already sorry skdksmds

top 5 moments from your(rahul's) fics !!! <3

it's fresh in my mind because i read it recently, so i could just say all of inyeon and it'd be true BUT i particularly loved all the coming out scenes in the fic ANDDDD the scene where taek's dad shows jung hwan the piece of newspaper with his graduating class' pic. IT'S SOOOOO. it made me cry so much because it's him saying, you are part of the family. you have always been. always. 'The article is neatly cut out and tucked into the folder, the same importance given to it as every other snippet, as everything else that Taek has won.' and '“I watched you grow up into a good man, Jung Hwan-ah. You’re good to him, good for him. There’s nothing more a parent could ask for their child. Just take care of him well.”'

OF COURSE i have to mention paper planes. [every mention of the c-word- NO JK] the scene after they've confessed and they find the last paper plane chanon made for pom before everything went to shit ...... i LOVE LOVE LOVE the way you used paper planes in this fic, what they represent. fickle moments. and yet this one stood the test of time. and so did chanon and pom's relationship. AAAAAAA !!!!!! '"I know I promised no trajectory without you. So here’s something to remember me by until I come back, and I can hold your hand on our flight path." Chanon’s eyes flicker up to Pom’s. “Thanks for coming back, Non,” says Pom, sitting up with his disheveled hair and his perfect smile, blankets bunched up around his waist. [...] “Thanks for giving me a home to come back to,” replies Chanon, holding him tightly.'

also the scene in paper planes where pom goes to chanon's house when they're teens .... chanon's mum making chinese food for pom :'))))) also loved the little detail you added that chanon took extra chinese classes when he was younger!! it was soooo lovely <33

i ADOREEE life gets hard (but these days been meaning more) [side note i didn't remember why you titled it that skdsdns] and especially when achara comes into the scene AND the ending .... just the whole idea of the perspective of the trees, it's so lovely and original and THE EXECUTION ! spectacular trulyyyy 'The garden isn’t empty anymore, much less the house, both decorated and made lovely and into a home by two men who love each other and their daughter more than anything else in the world. Every week, their friends come over with their own warmth and plates and pots of food, setting everything up neatly on the table and laughing loudly and joking around as the day stretches into long night, as things are meant to be. This garden was meant to be loved, this house was meant to be lived in -- and now after such a long time, it finally is. Kao will keep planting more vegetables in this garden with care. Pete will remember to mow the grass every so often, keeping his husband company and buying him gardening supplies. Achara will drift back and forth on the swing, teasing her fathers. And the trees? The trees will keep watch for as long as they need to. Such is the way of life -- and they’ve never grown stronger.'

THE ENTIRETY OF SMALL THINGS ARE SPECTACULAR SIGHTS. absolutely adore the fact that every snippet is from one of the kids' pov ANDDD it's just so so sweet it makes me :')))) the way the kids are so happy for pom, the sappiness (affectionate) it's just everything one might need to heal from [gestures vaguely] tgg “No, I mean,” says Pang, fiddling with his shirt, “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’re happy for you. P’Chanon is really nice, and he makes good cupcakes, and he sends you flowers.”

OKAY I'VE BEEN REREADING PARTS OF YOUR FICS FOR LIKE AN HOUR SKDSMDS :HELP: i fell into a hole sorry lmao but also honorable mentions (entire fics):

jeong (I DIDN'T KNOW WHICH MOMENT TO CHOOSE :YELLINGCAT:)

how do you love when you're frightened? [KANIMANO SUPREMACY ALWAAAAYYYYYS]

don't mind growing old with you by my side

my weary heart has come to rest in yours BUT ESPECIALLY: '“You,” says Chanon, very quietly. Pom whips to him, Chanon’s face wide open and vulnerable, almost like he’s caught in a breath. “I wished for you.”'

wherever you're going, i'm going (that way) [i mean. MOON RIVER AS THE TITLE.]

and he got fight stories to tell

my feet are drawn to you [WHEN WILL PERTH READ THIS !!!!!!]

this is so so long i apologize :sob: i've been at it for 3 years . anyway . i love you so so much rahul and love your writing and our conversations and. yeah. <3 :^)

#nico answers #SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS GOT SKDKSKDLS #gaystcr #rahul tag

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3desiderium3 · 3 years

Text

For your love

chapter one - Rage

[ series masterlist ]

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings : reader x damiano david

story summary : damiano and reader are in very loving relationship that sometimes almost too quickly becomes too toxic for anyone likings

warning (s) for this chapter : toxic relationship / behaviour , slight angst , NSFW , adult content , smut , rage , domestic vionlence , abuse , mentions of cheating , verbal degradation , mouth fucking , oral sex , punishment , god complex , daddy kink

"And why should I trust you again? Huh?? What have you done to earn my trust ? " Damiano shouted at his beloved girlfriend which was sitting heartbroken in a chair across him.

She had her eyes puffed red from crying and ciggarete dancing between her two fingers.

The room was filled with smoke and rage. So so so much rage . This was special kind of rage.

The kind that made Y/N 's knees week and her head dizzy , this was the special kind of rage her boyfriend held behind his flaming dark eyes , the kind of rage that could only go away after him fucking her brains out.

But she knew that they had a looong night before the fucking part.

Their relationship was special. Some people questioned it sometimes. They questioned the way they would yell and fight , throw tantrums and scenes on some public places , the way Damiano would cry himself to sleep after he kicked Y/N out of their shared appartment , the way Y/N sometimes manipulate him and guilt trip him for her own needs.

They where not near the perfect couple and they stopped hiding it after a short amount of time dating.

They where flawed and broken but desperate for each others love and care.

Everyone was concerned how much they loved and cared for each other.

Tonight was a casual Thursday night filled with yelling and throwing drama around every corner.

" Will you please stop yelling , my head is gonna explode.." Y/N finally spoke with her forehead rested in her right hand . This was just another rage awakening inside of Damiano . How dare she disrespect him and all the effort he is trying to put inside this conversation?

He furrowed his eyebrows carefully licking his lips and watching her fragile figure.

She was so petite in her champagne silk night gown. She seemed so soft and fragile . Her (hair length) (hair colour) hair was all messy and her (eye colour) orbs where hidden under thick layer of wet eyelashes.

All he wanted to do now was to kiss her. To play with her hair as he was holding her onto his bare chest. To kiss every spot on her body. To make sure she never leaves him.

He wanted to. He really did. But he was so fucking angry. He forgot why in fact. All this rage blinded him.

He was always so energetic and full of adrenaline when it came to performing and putting effort in music , all thanks to his girlfriend who drove him crazy.

"Are you forgetting why am I yelling at the first place?" He questioned as he turned down his cigarette and left it's dump in an over filled ashtray. " I swear to dear God I wanna smash your head with this ashtray now. " He admitted as his eyes wondered on that very same ashtray.

So many times before he was very close to killing her. Well , at least he told himself that.

"Then fucking do it you selfish idiot. I forgot why you where yelling cause you are not capable of doing anything other than that. "

She hissed the venom right back at him.

He let out an ' I cant believe this ' annoyed short laugh , turning his head to his left side and laughing.

" If you deserved more than to be yelled at you things would go different way mio amore. "

An poisoned arrow right through her heart. Fresh tears burned her eyes as she tried hiding them away.

But her sobs gave her away. She couldn't hold it in anymore. Damiano looked in her way. Biting his tongue. This scene was a true heartbreak.

He hated her cries and sobs. He hated her pain. He wanted to be the one to protect her and hide her from all the pain in this world. Yet again he was the only thing that caused her suffer.

Damiano was so afraid that she would betray him and his love that he found this as the only way to keep her close.

He knew all her weaknesses and soft spots. All that there was to know about Y/N he knew.

" How can this be the same man I feel in love with 2 years ago? " She said in a cracked voice filled with misery and sorrow. Each sentence she spoke was tearing his heart and soul apart.

" When did you stopped loving me you possessive asshole?!" Her voice was barely strong enough to even compare to his. " And when did you started being such a greedy bitch huh Y/N?"

Damiano was sitting laid back in his chair with crossed hands on his chest. Smirk on his face , eyes so dark you could drown in them. " Since you stopped being enough. "

'That's it' Y/N thought . ' He is either gonna strangle me right here on the spot , or make me regret my entire life. '

Damiano's face went pale. Y/N knew him better than himself. She knew that he only cared for being good enough to her. He only wanted to prove himself worthy of her.

He stood up as rage took control over his body. The veins on his neck ready to explode , gripping his godly sculpted jaw tightly , he had enough rage inside of him to demolish the entire country.

Damiano made his way towards her. She was now watching him obediently. As soon as he came close enough he fiercely and unexpectedly gripped her jaw.

She tried gasping at this sudden movement. He cupped her small face with his right veiny hand , gripping it hard enough for her to squirm under him. Y/N tried to separate his hand from her face with both of hers hands but no use.

He was towering her with half closed eyes and no emotion on his face left. " I will make you regret the day you walked in my life. " His tumb parted her lips with ease, since she was already seduced by his cold charm , then he slowly gathered some of his salvia inside of his mouth as he watched her eyes realise new pair of tears making him slightly aroused , he spat his fluid inside of her warm mouth closing them as he gripped her jaw with his nails.

" You think I stopped being enough?" He paused as he pressed his nails deeper inside of her cheeks earing a silent whimper. " Well baby you where never good enough. "

She knew he was being mean on purpose. She knew he didn't mean it. But..

Those sinister eyes gave her troubles. She was never fully capable of reading them. They where always a puzzle.

" Tho I gotta be honest darlin'.." He started unbuckling his belt with his left hand as the smile on his face grew wider. " The only thing you where always good in was taking my flesh inside those pretty slutty mouth of yours.." The sentence was finished and followed by his fingers playing with her lips.

" Are you gonna be a good slut and take me again so well baby?"

Oh gosh.. How could anyone say no to that?? To him.. And those eyes..

Y/N nodded , feeling herself drooling at the sight of bulge inside of his pants as he was palming himself glaring down on her.

Just when her hands where about to grab the waist of his pants he gripped her hair with his left hand aggressively earing an small yelp from her.

" You wont get anything from me if you don't start talking amore.. Tell me once again if I'm not good enough." A smirk appeared on Damiano's patient face.

" You are even more than good enough for me master." A sharp hair pull was followed after that. Damiano was slowly getting bigger in his pants but also was getting pissed very soon with her dumbness.

" That's not what I heard. " He was teasing. He was pulling her hair at some of his desired speed and in some of his desired directions as he sharply slapped her face twice.

" But don't worry love.. I will make you regret everything." He was so sure in his words.

And so was Y/N. She knew him and that he was more than willing to go all night on corrupting her.

" I will fuck those dirty unpolite little mouth of yours so good you will never speak properly again."

His hand that was cupping her hair pulled her down onto her knees violently after which he was allowing her to unbuckle his pants to the end.

Almost eagerly her hands flew towards him to unwrap the thing she is logging for ..

He watched her from above , with lust and domination running one of his hands tru his brown hair. Y/N gave him a soft innocent look as her hands slowly pulled his boxers down.

Her fingers brushing over his bare velvety smooth skin sending her shivers down her neck.

Y/N looked so gentle and angelic in her full submission.

Damiano carrased her hair interlocking his fingers in it. Knowing he would have to tug it harshly if she continues to be so slow with her actions.

Finally as she finished with stripping him teasingly his hard member stood straight against his lower stomach , some of precum already visible on the tip.

Y/N wrapped her fingers firmly around him just as he liked it , licking it from its bottom all the way up to his pink tip . Feeling all the veins on his length and every throb and shake her tongue caused.

She made two swirls to gather all that pearly wetness earning a low groan from her lover.

Damiano was now in blissful agony enjoying her teasing while now starting to grip her hair harder.

" If you continue with this speed I will not be in charge of your bruised throat.. I wanna abuse that hole cause it's only purpose is to be in my possession."

Dear God he was so good with his words. His italian accent only adding the flavour to his sharp sour voice .

Y/N understood his warning , after making his member wet enough she slide him into her mouth slowly , she felt his full length stretching her jaw and they both knew she always needed time for her to adjust to him.

But did he care for that actually?

Especially now when he is so mad at her?

His hand pushed her head roughly onto his throbbing cock , holding her in place as she was letting out gags being left with no oxygen in her mouth. Her eyes looked up to meet his face that had a mean smirk . Tears running down her face as she was being held in place under his dominant power.

Damiano's hand was guiding her by her hair at some certain peace. Her head was going up and down on his length , even tho his tip didn't hit back of throat again that hard.

She choked out on her spit and his precum , when he realised her mouth she gasped for air thick string of salvia connecting her plump wet lips and his covered in her droll cock.

He was chuckling again. Laughing at her dumb face.

'Oh baby.. I am just getting started with you..'

With his right thumb he caressed her flaming red cheek, his hand prints still visible from his previous slaps.

He took his member into his left hand slapping her mouth and cheeks leaving thick wet marks and leaving her gasping and blinkin in sudden movement.

" I am growing very impatient with you. "

Damiano started pushing her head now much faster onto him , not letting her adjust once again. " It's bout time I put you in your place once again. " She picked the peace a bit quicker now, bobbing her head up and down , often gagging.

Her boyfriend hissed at her speed , resting his body weight on his left palm that was pressed against the wall.

The room was filled with sloppy noises , Y/N's melodic gags , smell of raw sex and aggressive romance.

"Such a good fucking girl.." Damiano hissed through his gritted teeth now holding her head in his hands thrusting his hips violently in her mouth. He was sparkling in sweat and his mouth feel open as his eyes where closed and his eyebrows furrowed.

Y/N was leaving marks on his thighs with her nails and her salvia was dripping down her chin.

Her eyes hitting the back of her head in the same rhythm as his tip was hitting the back of her throat.

"I am close don't you fucking dare to stop."

She didn't dare not to obey . Her knees where trembling and pool of dampness was soaking her silk underwear. Tears running down her face and mixing with some slight sweat.

"Oh God.. So fucking warm and obedient.. So fucking pathetic and good.. All for me.. All for me to use and love"

His romantic way of speaking those violent words made her heart orgasm.

Damiano was throwing his head back while gripping her sculp harder going faster on her mouth as his member was pulsing and he could feel hot rush in his veins.

Y/N felt him shaking inside of her and felt him twitching not long before he released thick ropes of his hot juice inside her warm wet mouth.

Damiano was panting and breathing hard.She tried pushing herself back from him feeling like she once again was choking with no air left.

" You will stay like this until I say so. " He held her head in place. " Such a good slut. Taking me so well. I will pull out now and don't you fucking dare slip some of my cum out of those filthy mouth. "

He caressed her head , gulping his salvia loudly as his chest rose up and down.

After which he pulled his dick out of her mouth slowly watching as it was coming out all shiny from juices mixed with her spit and his cum.

It was such a lovely sight for him seeing her red face , messy hair and eyes dark from lust. She was holding his seed inside of her mouth slowly gulping every drop of it. She opened her mouth and slowly panted.

"Open your mouth wider, show me if you obeyed me."

She did as she was told and showed him how good she was for him. She loved him. She always did everything she could to satisfy him.

He smiled softly . His eyes soft again watching her with some unexplained emotion.

He kneeled down on her level , once again cupping that face he loved so much , but this time his intention was gentle and caring. He kissed her forehead before meeting her lips and softly licking it asking for forgiveness.

He parted from her tilting his head to the side. How much he adored her eyes . Not just her eyes. He adored her and everything about her.

While sharing such meaningful and special moment it didn't matter at all that they where fighting and yelling the whole day at each other. What mattered was that he was hers and she was his.

"Come here amore." He cooed , sitting down on the floor in front of her instead of kneeling , pulling her on his lap by his hands.

Y/N wrapped her legs around his torso , letting her head rest on his shoulder , head buried in his soft neck. He hugged her body tightly. Rubbing if softly , kissing her hair and nuzzling onto her.

They stayed like this on the floor in each others embrace , not speaking , just breathing , just listening to each others heartbeats.

" I am sorry. " " I am the one that should apologize. " " You know that I could never leave you.. I love you more than myself. "

" I know mio amore.. I know.. "

A/N NOTE : This is my first time writing on this platform and this kind of fiction , I rlly hope u gon like it and please leave a heart if you do ! <33 Also English is not my first language sry if there are grammar mistakes !

#damiano david #eurosong #maneskin #eurovison 2021 #eurovision italy #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #relationship #fanfic #toxic behavior #toxic relationship #slight nudity #slight angst #smut #måneskin

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Ten

Summary: you finally get to visit the boys at the embassy. You and Javier finally get to consummate the relationship.

W/C: 6k+ (I’m sorry it’s the FINALE I had to)

Warnings: language as always, mentions of injury, SMUT! (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation if you squint, p in v sex, Javier Peña is his own warning when it comes to sex

A/N: YOU GUYS. this is it! I’m so honored that you guys love it as much as you do. This series was originally only supposed to be a oneshot but I just fell in love. I’m so glad I get to share it with you all! BIGGEST thanks to @remmysbounty for being my Colombian culture expert in this and helping me with my spanish phrases, listening to my ramblings, and generally being my editor and idea helper.

previous chapter | epilogue

“Ana, phone for you,” Lorena calls as you walk past the nurses’ station.

You nod, but you’re carrying a tray of medicine for a patient. “Can it wait?” You ask.

Lorena asks the person and then looks back up at you. “He says it’s quick.”

Sighing, you walk behind the desk. “Will you take this tray for me? Room 429,” you ask, and she nods dutifully, walking off with it after handing the phone to you. You answer the phone with your name, sitting in the chair Lorena was just in.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” a familiar southern voice says from the other end. You panic for a moment, wondering why he called you, but his voice seems relaxed. It can’t be anything too bad.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, twirling the phone cord around your finger, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk.

Steve chuckles. “Not much. Just Javi bein’ a dumb fuck.”

“What’s new?” You sigh, but you both know that both of you have affection behind your teasing.

“Exactly,” Steve says in agreement. “Anyway, Javi’s back at work, as you know. The bandage he has is falling off, and he says it’s fine but I know enough from Connie to know that’s not good. She said you get off work soon, would you bring some stuff to the embassy?”

You look at the watch at your wrist. He’s right. You get off at noon, and it’s about 10 right now. “Yeah, of course. Could I bring you guys lunch too? Eat with you?”

There’s a small snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Listen, though, there’s some real shitty guys around here. You’re gonna get hit on and Peña isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“I’ll be wearing scrubs, Steve. What is there to talk about?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Lonely and horny men desperate for an American woman aren’t above much. Just… lettin’ you know now.”

“I think I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can hear it in your tone. “I’ll be there at 12:30 with lunch and supplies for Javi, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Thank you, kid.”

“I’m, like, a few years younger than you. You act like you’re my dad.”

“Whatever,” he laughs and hangs up the phone.

After your shift, you enter Valeria’s diner. Her eyes light up as she sees you, rushing your way. “¡Ay, mi hermosita! ¿Quiubo, chiquita?” She asks, grabbing your arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell her genuinely with a smile. “I didn’t know if… the bombing, if it affected you. I’m so glad it didn’t.”

“And me with you! Especially that Javier, dios mio,” she shakes her head.

“Actually...” you chuckle a little. It’s a nervous laugh, afraid to tell her what happened. “Javi was injured. He and his partner were very near the bomb. He’s okay now, but he lost a lot of blood and had to have emergency surgery. He’s got a big scar here,” you tell her and trace along your abdomen where his injury was. “He’s back at work already, but he spent a few days in the hospital and about a week or two at home.”

Valeria frowns. “Oh no. I’m glad he‘s alright now. I worried so much about him, but I figured he lived since there were no American casualties.”

You nod. “Exactly. I’m actually on my way to the embassy now, bringing him some bandages, and I wanted to pick up lunch for him and his partner.”

The woman claps her hands together excitedly. “And here I am, blabbering on! I’ll go get an order in for you. What would you like, dear?”

You put in an order that you figure Javi and Steve would both like, waiting contently at a booth Valeria seats you at and sipping a coffee she brought to you.

The little restaurant makes you smile as you think about the memories. Laughing with Javier for hours in the early morning, sharing life stories and experiences. You realize now that you think you loved Javier even then, on the night when you sat a few booths over, wrapped in his leather jacket while his mustache collected little grains of sugar and cinnamon.

Not long after, Valeria comes to your table with two large bags of food. “I couldn’t help myself- I threw a few extra desserts and snacks in. Javier needs to eat more, tell him that I said that and that’s why there’s so much.”

You laugh happily and stand. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

She takes your payment and hands you a large to-go cup of coffee- you deserve it after such a long shift, she tells you- before sending you on your way. The embassy is a distance away, and you hail a taxi to make your way there. The car fills with the scent of the fresh food, making your stomach rumble. When you arrive, you pay the driver and head inside.

A receptionist sits just inside. “May I help you?” She asks politely and without much interest.

“Uh….” you hadn’t expected this step. “Yes. I’m here for Agents Murphy and Peña?”

She nods, grabbing the phone. She dials a number and talks, making a face of annoyance as she switches to speaking English. She must’ve dialed Steve. She hangs up not long after. “Murphy will be here in a moment,” she tells you with a nod, and you back away to allow the next person to talk with her.

Steve finds you about a minute later. “Hey. That’s a lot of food,” he chuckles as he looks at the large bags you’re carrying.

“I went to Javier’s favorite place. This one waitress there absolutely adores him, so she gave me extra because he doesn’t eat enough,” you inform him with a smile. “She even threw in some free desserts.”

“Jesus. We could feed the whole embassy with those,” he shakes his head, taking one from you to lighten your load.

You walk through hallways and several sets of stairs, before entering the office area and finally reaching the two desks, one messy and one neat. Javier sits at the cluttered one, looking up and eyes lighting as he sees you. “Hey,” he laughs and even dares to smile: a rare sight when he’s at work. “What are you doing here?” He asks, rolling his chair back from his desk and taking your hand.

“Steve said you needed bandages,” you shrug and hold up one of the bags.

He gives him a dirty look and the blonde man simply shrugs, sitting at his own desk.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What’s all this then?” He asks, referring to the bags you and Steve carry.

You set one on a free space in his desk and untie the top of the bag, setting a takeout container in front of him. “Lunch,” you say simply, opening the styrofoam to release a drift of a delicious smell.

Javier sighs at the scent. “Did you see Valeria then? Is that why there’s so much food?” He asks with a little laugh.

You nod. “Exactly.”

Javier sighs and grabs a fork from the bag. “Here,” he says, pulling you to sit on one of his thighs. You squeal at the movement, laughing and grabbing the desk once you’re seated.

“At least warn me, huh?” You laugh and he steals a quick kiss from you, earning a whistle from a man who walks past.

“Wow, Peña has moved on from fucking the informants,” the man chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You both glare at him, though he finds yours more intimidating than Javier’s. “Mm, we’re projecting our sexual frustration, are we?” You ask, taking a bite of food in your mouth with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry about us, run on home to the wife who doesn’t want your dick anywhere near her,” you say with a sweet smile, turning back to Javier’s desk and sipping your coffee.

The man walks away with wide eyes and Murphy laughs genuinely. “Holy shit,” he shakes his head and smiles.

“What? It’s clearly true,” you chuckle, looking back at Javier and taking another bite of the food in front of you. He’s got his heart in his eyes, barely managing to hold back a grin.

“I fucking love you,” Javi laughs contently, waiting you to finish chewing. When you do, he kisses you passionately for a moment, releasing you a few seconds later.

“You got some observational skills, kid,” Steve snorts and shoves a bite of food in his face. “We should get you working here.”

You roll your eyes. “What is your thing with calling everyone kid, Murphy?” Javier laughs, and you nod enthusiastically. You were just about to ask the same thing.

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the phone on Javier’s desk rings. “Peña.” He makes several noises of agreement before hanging up a few moments later. “Trujillo needs something. Be right back,” he tells the both of you and presses a kiss to your head. You stand to allow him to, and he kisses your lips quickly before speed-walking up the steps from the bullpen area and out to somewhere else.

You sit back down and both you and Steve continue eating your food. A minute or so later, a woman walks past but stops as she sees you. “Oh my God, Steve, is this Connie?” she asks, leaning against his desk.

“No, this is Peña’s girlfriend. She and Connie work together,” he informs her. Her face sours at the word girlfriend.

You tell the woman your name and shake her hand with a smile. “Peña has a girlfriend? My god,” she laughs lightly. Javier walks back down to his desk and the woman’s eyes light up. You stand so he can sit again. “Javier Peña, all settled down.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles and sits, pulling you back onto his lap. You squeal again at the sudden movement, more so for the amusement of the woman in front of you. Laughing, you steady yourself on his desk. “Javi, warm a girl!” You chuckle, turning around to kiss him quickly. You’d discovered recently that you couldn’t get enough of it now that you were allowed to do it.

The woman shakes her head and chuckles as she walks away, heels clacking on the tile floor of the embassy.

Steve rolls her eyes. “Ah, Carolina. Last woman at the embassy Javi hasn’t fucked, and she’s been going after him for months.”

“Bullshit,” you and Javier say at the same time, laughing and turning around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Bullshit to the fact that she’s the last woman here I haven’t fucked. Yeah, she’s been all over me,” he admits and nods.

“Well that’s too damn bad for her, isn’t it?” You laugh and offer Javier your cup of coffee.

He takes a swig and sighs. “Goddamn, this stuff tastes good. The coffee here is shit. We really need to do something about that,” he says to Steve, earning a shrug in response as he forks more food into his mouth.

The three of you eat in content silence, Javier keeping one arm wrapped around you as he eats. Steve flips through a file as he munches on his food too.

A couple of minutes later, a stone-faced bald man in army green fatigues walks. He raises an eyebrow as he sees you sitting on Javier’s lap.

You bite the bullet and introduce yourself first, telling him your name and offering a hand to shake. “Javier’s girlfriend.”

Javier chuckles at the man’s confused expression. “Yeah. Ángel, this is Trujillo. We work closely with him and his men. What else do you need?” He asks the man, turning the chair toward him.

“It can wait, I suppose, until after lunch. Wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Trujillo says before walking off.

Javier shakes his head. “Now I see why the two of you can’t get shit done around here,” you tease and kiss the side of Javi’s head with a smile before taking the last bite of your food.

Not long after, the two men finish eating too. You stand from Javi’s desk. “Walk me out?” You ask him softly, and he nods. “I’ll see you later, Steve. Thanks for the invite,” you chuckle, taking Javier’s hand once you’re both standing.

As you walk through the halls, Javier is smiling. It’s a rare occurrence around the embassy, enough to draw stares. You smile proudly, lacing your fingers together as you walk. “So, Superman. I have a proposal,” you offer, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Shoot.”

“You get off work around six?”

“Sure do.”

“And I don’t work tonight.”

Javier chuckles as he looks down at you. “Where is this going, hm?”

You shrug a little. “All I hear about is how good you are in bed. How good of a lover you are,” you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. “Why don’t you prove it to me tonight, hm?” You ask, fingers tracing the seam where his buttons hold his tight shirt together- just barely.

“Oh god, cariño,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if my body is up to it yet, with the incision and-“

“I’m a nurse, Javi. Your nurse. I know medically that you’re stable by now. As long as it isn’t painful for you, we’re safe,” you tell him with a growing smile. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” You ask in a low voice, your hand sliding across the bare ‘v’ of his chest, exposed by his low-cut shirt.

“Yeah, it has.” Javier licks his lips as he looks down at you, a growing smile. “Your place. Sound good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you admit with an excited grin, placing a kiss to his cheek as you reach the door. “You bring the protection,” you murmur next to his ear before kissing him softly on the lips. You break away and smile at his dazed face. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” You tell him and squeeze his hand.

“Fuck, I love you too, ángel,” Javi smiles and kisses your forehead, opening the door for you. “See you then.”

Six o’clock rolls around. You know Javier won’t come right from work, but you wait excitedly anyway. You treated yourself to a long hot shower, cleaning up and waiting. You’re dressed in a wrap dress and nothing else, waiting on the couch and trying to distract yourself with reruns of a telenovela. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on your counter.

Surprisingly, a knock comes at your door around 6:15. You shout for them to enter and it’s Javier. “I thought you didn’t get off until 6:00,” you smirk a little as you look at him, closing the door behind himself.

“Steve covered for me. I left at 5, went home and showered, changed bandages and everything,” he chuckles, locking the door.

You smile and stand, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How kind of him,” you chuckle softly, an arm around his waist. “Listen, I thought about it. If you’re still in pain, this can totally wait,” you offer, looking up at him with big and concerned eyes.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you, ángel,” he murmurs, putting both hands on your waist. “Nothing could hold me back now.”

You throw your arms around his neck as Javier’s lips crash against yours, in a deep kiss that wastes no time. You make a soft noise of content against his lips and that spurs him on, his hands roaming all across your body. He breaks away, eyes wild and lips swollen already. “How many times have you cum in one night?” He asks, smirking.

You can’t help but moan in response, kissing him again deeply, your mouth exploring his. He breaks away again. “Answer.”

“Uh… three. On my own. Only once with someone else,” you tell him breathlessly, your brain so wrapped up in him that it’s difficult to think about anything other than him.

“Alright, then four’s the goal,” he chuckles, kissing you deeply and pulling your hips against his. His hands grope your ass and you moan softly.

It’s already the best you’ve ever had and he hasn’t even touched you. The passion and love you have for each other is evident in how deep and intense every little movement is, from the way you drag your nails down the back of his neck to the way he smooths his hands over the curve of your ass, feeling no panties beneath the dress. “Fuck,” he murmurs into your lips.

“My bedroom, please,” you whine, breaking away from him.

He nods, glancing in the direction of the hallway that leads to your room. He catches sight of the bottle of whiskey. “What was that for?” He asks, breathlessly chuckling.

“Confidence,” you admit with a laugh. “Don’t know why I thought I needed it. Not with you.”

“Well, it’ll go perfectly with cuddling in your bed after, hm?” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. You sigh softly at the feeling and he walks you along to your bedroom, backwards, until you feel the backs of your legs pressed against your bed. “Let’s see what’s under here,” he mumbles breathlessly, kissing at your neck as he frantically fumbles to untie the knot around your waist that holds the wrap dress in place. He’s clearly experienced at removing all kinds of clothing, and you can feel your arousal starting to slide down to your upper thighs.

“Javi,” you whimper, and he swears he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“Oh fuck, dulzura,” he shudders at the way you sound, lifting his head and catching your lips in another intense kiss as he slips the dress off of your shoulders and it falls to the floor. “No bra, no panties,” he chuckles as he looks down, finding your exposed body. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He mumbles, his lips trailing from behind your ear to your neck to your collarbone to between your breasts.

“Please,” you whimper and Javier pushes you to lie down on the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees and spreading your legs. “Javi,” you mumble, gripping your breasts.

He looks up at you and swears he could cum in his pants right now, just from the way you look spread out for him. You’re already dripping and he bites his lip as he takes a long look at you. “Fuck, ángel,” he says with a shudder, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “Play with your tits for me,” he commands as he slips the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and the large gauze bandage covering part of his equally muscular abdomen.

You nod, though it doesn’t do much at this angle, and he finally gives in. His last bit of self control leaves his body as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into you at the way you taste. You whimper and your hips squirm softly before Javier brings a large hand up, pinning you down. “Javi… go slow, please,” you murmur. “It’s… been a while.”

He nods. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he breathes out, dark eyes even darker with his widened pupils. He’s just as entranced by you as he was by those heavy drugs in the hospital, his mind foggy from the way you taste. His nose nudges at your clit, causing you to make a soft noise. Javier slips a thick finger inside of you, shuddering at the way your walls flutter around it. “God, that’s gonna feel so good around my dick,” he mumbles, slipping in a second finger and lapping at your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, one hand sliding into that dark hair, gripping it. “I lied. You don’t have to go slow, do whatever you want to me,” you shiver and whine out, bucking your hips up only for Javier’s hand to push them back down.

“Patience,” he mumbles, latching onto your most sensitive spot and sucking on it softly. His fingers push in a little deeper and curve against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, wishing you had him to do it. You knew he would, with his reputation. Of course he would. He already feels like he knows every inch of your body, every sensitive little spot he can stroke to drive you wild. You squeal softly at the movement, your back arching. He smirks but continues, not bothering to stop and comment.

You’re already close, and it’s driving you wild, the other hand clutching at the comforter beneath you. “Not gonna last. Feels so good,” you murmur to him, almost ashamed at how quickly he’s going to make you reach your peak.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he mumbles into you, his eyes closing in concentration as his tongue works hard against your clit.

“Thought about this all the time. My fingers couldn’t get anywhere near as deep as yours, Javi,” you coo, brow furrowing. “Just wanted you inside of me, doing this to me. I thought about it every night since I met you,” you whimper. “Nowhere near as good- fuck, I’m about to-” you groan but it’s cut off as your orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake and your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the word tumbles from your mouth over and over again as it washes over you. After you come down, there’s a delicious oversensitivity inside of you. Javier doesn’t let up. “Javi,” you murmur softly.

“Gonna get another out of you, ángel,” he murmurs for a moment before going back with renewed intensity. You thought it was perfect before, but the way he continues now allows you to feel every bud on his tongue, every line in his fingerprints inside of you, the way his fingers move at slightly different speeds as they drag against that spot deep inside of you.

Only a few moments pass before you’re there again, whining out his name as you feel something warm gush from deep within you. It’s all too good, all too much, feels like an electric wire threaded through your limbs and core. “Javi,” you shudder as you finally come to your senses. “I- uh, did I just-” you say, eyes widening as you see the damp spot beneath you.

“You sure fucking did,” he smirks, removing his fingers from inside of you and sucking on the two slick digits.

“I’ve never done that,” you admit, biting your lip.

“It means I’m doing something right,” he chuckles a little, sitting up to kiss you softly, slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you moan as his tongue probes your mouth ever so gently. “It’s all good, baby. Wanna see if I can make you do that again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. “You were promised four.”

You shudder softly, hands on his shoulders. “I was,” you chuckle with the little oxygen left in your lungs. “What do you say…” you trail off, reaching between the two of you and palming at his denim-covered erection, “I take care of you, you get one more out of me, and then we finally fuck, hm?” you ask, recovering your senses.

“How could I say no to that?” he murmurs, kissing you deeply again. You squeeze softly at the bulge, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “How- I, what do-”

“Lie down up there,” you tell him and nod toward the pillows. When you stand, you tear the comforter off of your bed and toss it aside. “We’ll just have to sleep without that tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are staying the night, right?” You ask, suddenly taken aback.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes down his jeans and boxers and his dick springs free. He’s huge, not overly long but very thick, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a smirk. “Oh, you like this?” he chuckles a little, lying down with his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” you laugh softly, already imagining how he’ll feel inside. “Yeah, I do,” you nod and crawl onto the bed, lying down on your stomach between his spread legs.

You slowly trace a stripe along the underside of him, paying special attention to the frenulum and noticing the way his leg jerks beneath you. Adjusting yourself, you make big eyes up at him as you suck on the head, tracing the tip of your tongue against the little spot. “Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming in seconds,” he laughs breathlessly. “You’re fucking amazing, baby,” he mumbles, his eyes slipping shut at the feeling. “Wait, stop, stop.”

You do exactly that, looking up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Yeah?”

Javier takes a deep breath and smirks. “You can make me cum with your mouth another time. I want this to be about you. Get up here and sit on my face.”

The boldness of his words makes your mouth fall open into a soft o-shape. You’ve certainly never done that before, but the idea is interesting. “It’ll be good, I promise. I already made you cum twice with my mouth, you know that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of your face.

“But…” Javier is much more experienced than you, you know that, so it must be fine, but there’s a little nagging insecurity inside of you. “What if I squirt again and, like, drown you?” you ask shyly.

Javier looks at you for a second before laughing softly. “No, it won’t. Come here, I can prove it to you if you’d like,” he offers, pushing a wisp of your hair back. The fact that you’re less experienced makes him even harder, if that’s physically possible, and you can feel it in your hand. He wants to do this, and that reassures you. You gulp and nod. “That’s my good girl,” Javi mumbles darkly.

You shudder at his words, your skin prickling. He can feel it. “Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He scoots to lie flat on his back on the bed. “Come on up here, baby,” he says softly, and you agree.

You straddle his legs and gradually make your way over his body, careful to lift your hips as you pass over the incision. You’re hovering above his chest, looking down at him with the question in your eyes. “What if I like, crush your head?” You murmur and bite your lip.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” he mumbles, stroking your thigh. “Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes,” you nod shyly. You’re not used to being this open about your wants.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, hands on your hips and pulling you gently. Inviting you onto his waiting lips.

You slide your hips the rest of the way and moan as his tongue finds your clit almost immediately. He moans back, entranced by you already. He puts on a bit more of a show, making loud noises and digging his fingers into your ass. He murmurs something into you but it’s lost in your folds as he lavishes your clit with his attention.

“Okay, I like this,” you admit with a breathless chuckle, moaning at the way his tongue works against you, his mustache tickles you, his nose nudges your clit when his tongue is elsewhere. You’re still hyper-sensitive from earlier, and you can tell. Your orgasm approaches rapidly, faster than it has ever before. You fall slightly forward, bracing yourself against the headboard as the tingling sensation builds.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, panting heavily, your hands gripping the headboard tight. He makes a noise of approval and the vibrations from it cause you to let go, practically wailing his name. Your toes curl in pleasure, whimpering as it pulses through your body. It leaks from you before you can notice it, squirting into Javier’s mouth. He swallows every last bit of it, moaning at the way you taste.

Javier’s been so patient with you, putting everything about you first. He continues to eat you out as you come down from it. Eventually, you lift your hips, kneeling with your still-dripping pussy over his face. “You gonna fuck me now?” you ask, barely any air in your voice.

“Oh God yeah,” he chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your clit before pushing you over to lie next to him.

“Javi!” You squeal out with a laugh, falling next to him, his face by your legs. You’re giggling as you look over at him, hands on your bare stomach. “What if I would’ve landed on you and hit the incision?” you chide, though you both know it’s joking.

“It’d be worth it,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee. He stands with a groan, cracking his neck and grabbing the condom from the pocket of his jeans. He opens it and rolls it over his leaking dick, and you smirk as you look at it, adjusting yourself back where he was lying.

“You sure this’ll be okay with the abs?” you ask him as he walks back to your side, your fingers ghosting over the gauze-covered incision.

He nods. “Yeah. You ready?” He asks, a hand cupping your face to look up at him.

“I’m waiting on the fourth,” you tease, giving his dick a gentle tug and earning a groan. “Now get on top of me and fuck me, Superman,” you say with a seductive smile, licking your lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles softly, propping his arms up on either side of you and nestling his hips between your legs. You can feel his dick pressing against your folds, and you grind your hips up into his. He moans, shivering hard. “Oh fuck. You better know it’s not gonna take long,” he tells you. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this for so long. First time I saw those tits bouncing on the treadmill, your ass when you were doing those squats,” he admits, hand running up your side and pinching a nipple as he finally admires your bare body beneath him.

“Get poetic later, get inside me now,” you beg of him, leaning up and kissing him deeply. He paws at a tit and you whine into his lips, harder when he rolls a nipple between two fingers. “Don’t tease,” you plead, spreading your legs wider.

He finally slides in and swears he’s seeing stars from the second the head is past your entrance. He groans out before he can stop himself, and you involuntarily make a matching sound. “Javier,” you cry, the way he stretches you making your already dripping pussy even wetter.

He nods. “Yeah baby,” he mumbles next to your ear.

“Start moving, I’m ready, come on,” you urge, nipping at his earlobe that dangles just above your lips. He shivers at the feeling and nods, pulling out and pushing back in. The first thrust and he’s already holding back.

He moans your name quietly, starting a slow but steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you. He looks down and bites his lip as he sees the way your tits jiggle with his thrusts. “Oh, ángel,” he groans. You bend up and kiss at his neck, daring to work a mark into the skin. “Yeah, that’s my girl, marking me up. Want that girl at the embassy to see it when I’m at work tomorrow, don’t you?” he grunts, breathing heavily already.

“All mine, no one else’s.”

“All yours, baby,” he nods, thrusting harder. “Give ‘em something to talk about, mark me up,” he groans, his eyes almost rolling back in his head from the feeling. You nod, leaving love bites and hickeys all over the smooth skin of his neck, the skin that smells like aftershave and soap and cigarettes and his sweat.

He reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs circles into your clit in time with the thrusts. “Oh, fuck do I love you, baby,” he groans. “You gonna come again?”

You’re embarrassingly close already, and the fact that he can tell is even hotter. “Yeah,” you whine into the thick column of his neck.

“Good girl, gonna squirt around me?”

“Yeah,” you whimper again, hips grinding against his hand. “Love you so much, Javi.”

“Love you too. Go for it, baby. Do it,” he asks of you, and who are you to deny him of the sensation in the moment? You stop holding back, your walls fluttering around him and your pussy leaking as your whole body tenses.

“Javi,” you cry into his ear, clinging to the back of his head and pulling him down to where you’re now lying flat, limp as a rag doll from his ministrations.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in his gravelly voice, biting down on his lip. “So good, fuck, love you baby,” he grunts in time with sporadic thrusts as he finally spills into the condom, an animalistic cry coming from his throat.

His thrusts slow and he gradually pulls out of you, lying down and pulling you into his side. “Would you believe me if I said that’s the best I’ve ever had?” He pants out, kissing the side of your head.

You drape an arm across him. “It’d be an honor,” you chuckle softly.

“It was,” he tells you honestly, this time kissing your lips. “God, I fucking love you,” he tells you with a dazed smile, eyes slipping shut.

He’s so sexy like this, sweat beaded on his forehead and dark hair stuck to it. He’s fucking beautiful is what he is, like a work of art with those swollen lips and the developing bruises on his neck. He’s your personal masterpiece. You’ve done all of those things to him, made him fill that condom, hell, you put those stitches in yourself before he left the hospital. He’s fully and truly yours. “I love you too, Javi,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a smile as your eyes water.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks quickly as his eyes open.

“I just love you so much,” you admit with a watery voice. “That was the best I’ve ever felt, and you let me ask stupid questions, and you did this all even though I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms a couple of weeks ago.” You bury your face where his chest meets his arm, the tears freely running.

“Ángel,” he coos and kisses your head. “You are the entire world, you know that? You saved my fucking life, not just from the shrapnel. I would’ve drank and smoked and worked myself to death if you didn’t come in.”

“And I would’ve died from that cold,” you add with a weak giggle.

“And you would’ve died from that cold,” he chuckles and lifts your head. “I love you so much. No solo como te quiero, como te amo.”

There’s a difference in the way Spanish speakers say “I love you” that native English speakers cannot understand. We say I love you to our dogs, to our partners, to our sisters and parents and to our lovers and spouses. It’s all the same way to say it: I love you. In Spanish, there is te quiero and te amo. Javier might say te quiero to his father, to Connie when she brings him food during a rough hangover. Never in his life has the man said te amo and meant it. Not to Lorraine, not to any girl he ever held in his arms as he pounded her senseless. Never, except to you.

And you can feel it in the way he presses a tender kiss to your face, in the way a tear drips from his eye and onto your forehead. He loves you in the way that inspired the greatest artists to write sonnets and plays and make beautiful art, the way that Escobar would do anything, would kill for his beloved Tata, the way Romeo and Juliet loved and fell hard and didn’t care about the repercussions and died for love of each other.

“Javi,” you coo, looking into his big brown eyes that are brimming with tears. “Te amo también, te amo, y nunca lo olvides.”

thanks for reading!

translations:

quiubo- what’s happening, what’s up

Chiquita- girl, girlfriend

dulzura- sweetheart

Y nunca lo olvides- and don’t you ever forget it.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @apascalrascal @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging @pedro-pastel @notabotiswear @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #narcos fanfic #narcos #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic

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caffeinatedbraincell · 3 years

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Hi y’all I’m back with another TOG story!

Summary: Joe and Nicky raise a duckling together during their time off. They're great parents and the ducking is very cute, and absolutely nothing sad or angsty happens because we all deserve some undiluted serotonin.

(Edit: Forgot to tag earlier, inspired by this post by @silly-old-guard-aus <3)

Read on AO3

“How are they?” Joe asked, smiling softly as he held the phone to his ear.

On the other end, Booker ran a hand through his hair fretfully. “I don’t know them like you do, obviously. But I- ah, I don’t know, this might be presumptuous of me. But I think they’re gonna be alright.”

“You know Andy well.”

“Yeah, but not Quynh. This is my first time meeting Quynh.”

“How did she react?”

“She didn’t cry in front of me. Didn’t even yell. Andy broke down instantly, but not Quynh. I told her Andy was mortal now, and then I left. I thought maybe it would be easier for them to be vulnerable with each other if I wasn’t around. Do you think Andy will be safe?”

“Yes. She is always safe with Quynh.”

“But Quynh was so angry.”

“She has every right to be angry. Even though it is not Andy’s fault. Andy knows this. Their love is many millennia old, Booker. These past 500 years will not break them.”

Booker grunted noncommittally. “I’m going to go back. Just to check on Andy. I’ll sleep in a motel if they want to be alone.”

“Alright. Text me, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. How’s everything over there?”

Joe looked over at the couch. Nicky was reclining in the corner spot, watching with rapt attention what Nile had called “one of the best episodes of Queer Eye ever” on their laptop. Nile was curled into a ball at his side. A cool draft snuck in through the cracked window, and Nicky adjusted the plush throw that was draped over them both. Nile sighed contentedly, snuggling closer for warmth.

“Good,” Joe replied, voice suddenly soft. “Everything’s really good here. You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Do you all need anything from Paris?”

“Not that I can think of right now. But I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Okay, sounds good.”

“Sebastian.”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself, okay? They’ll both be alright. Don’t sweat it.”

There was a pause. Then Booker sighed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll relax.”

“Good. Text me when you figure out where you’re sleeping tonight.”

“For sure. Thanks, Joe. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Joe left his phone on the counter and crossed over to the living room. He sat down on the carpet in front of Nicky, tilting his head back to rest it against Nicky’s knees. Nicky smiled, reaching down to run a hand through Joe’s hair. He wrapped a few curls around his fingers, tugging ever so gently before letting go. He shifted his hand a few centimeters and repeated the act.

“Come up here?”

Joe shook his head, practically melting under Nicky’s loving ministrations. The floor was especially comfy when it was closer to Nicky. “I love you,” Joe mumbled, as instinctively as exhaling. After a moment, he frowned. “I love you, too, Nile.” Nicky laughed, and Joe could almost feel Nile roll her eyes.

The episode ended with Tan France demonstrating how to do a French tuck, and Nicky wondered aloud if the technique would work just as well with his highlighter-green shorts. Joe, despite knowing full well that Nicky was trying to provoke him, promptly went off on a well-rehearsed tirade about the detriments of wearing a dress shirt with basketball shorts.

“Nile, back me up here!”

“You’re right. He’s right, Nicky. Why would you even suggest such a thing?”

“You two can’t stop me,” Nicky argued, just to be contrary.

“At least it won’t be as bad as that time you wore only yellow for two months,” Joe said resignedly.

“Yellow?” Nile asked.

“Yes, he insisted it would make the duckling feel more at home.”

“Duckling?!”

Nicky clicked his tongue impatiently. “I wore various styles and shades of yellow, from pressed goldenrod shirts to an actual pastel canary dress. He has no right to complain about my lack of versatility.”

“The duckling liked me better, and I just dressed like usual.”

“She didn’t like you better. You always kept blueberries on you to bribe her with.”

Wait,” Nile interjected. “We need to backtrack. When and why did you guys have a duckling?”

Joe gave Nicky a pointed look that did nothing to hide the mirth in his eyes. Nicky sighed around a smile.

“It was an accident.” ___

“Nicky, stop moping. Booker, get up from the floor. Enough is enough,” Andy said, far more gently that her words implied. She prodded a very drunk, very anxious Booker with her foot. “Book, have you eaten at all today?”

“He hasn’t,” Nicky muttered from the kitchen counter. “But neither have you, boss. You’re telling us to get it together, but you’re equally antsy about this whole thing. Don’t deny it.”

Andy sighed in frustration. “I wasn’t going to. It was a bad call on my part. I shouldn’t have sent Joe alone.”

“It was a one-man job. You said so yourself. And he did have the best-suited skill set out of all of us. I think, tactically speaking, you made the right decision.”

“But you’re still upset about it, aren’t you?”

“Look, boss, just because it’s a one-man job doesn’t mean said one man wouldn’t prefer company. And it would be safer to have someone along.”

“It would have been a lot of extra work for Booker, security-wise. You know that.”

“Noooo, I din’ miiind,” Booker slurred from where he was curled up on the rug. He made a valiant effort to prop himself up on an elbow before collapsing back down with a thud.

Nicky put his head in his hands. “He was supposed to be back today, right?” he whispered into his palms.

“He’ll be back. He’s fine. I know he’s fine.” Andy paced back and forth restlessly. “We just need to get out of our own heads for a bit. Be a little patient. Joe will be fine.”

The stool scraped noisily against the kitchen floor as Nicky got to his feet. “I’m going to go for a walk and not think about anything for half and hour. I’ll bring takeout on my way back. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, solid plan. I’ll drag Booker to bed and try to get him fully conscious by the time you’re back.”

“Sober?”

Andy chuckled. “Don’t get too ambitious.”

Twenty minutes later, Nicky was sitting on a park bench, forlornly looking out over a pond as the sun set behind him. He’d already called a nearby Indo-Pakistani restaurant and ordered one plate each of everyone’s favorite biryani to-go, including Joe’s. Joe had to come back tonight. He had to.

Nicky shook his head in frustration. He was doing a very poor job of thinking about nothing. Suddenly, a tiny movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head, squinting at the reeds growing on the pond bank.

The reeds rustled ominously. Nicky was just contemplating his chances of outrunning a rabid racoon, or alternatively, how long it would take him to heal from death by racoon, when the rustling stopped. Then, with a piteous squawk, a small ball of yellow fluff popped out onto the footpath.

Nicky stared in surprise. The poor little thing had landed on its back, its orange, webbed feet flailing in the air. It didn’t seem to be able to turn itself upright. Cautiously, Nicky approached the creature and very gently scooped it up. It gawked at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he heard himself mumbling soothing reassurances as he set it back on its feet. It stumbled half a meter and fell into the pond with a splash.

Nicky almost jumped to rescue it, before remembering that it was a duck and probably did not need to be rescued from the water. Was this one old enough to swim on its own? At what age did ducklings learn to swim, anyway?

The baby animal splashed around happily in front of him, clearly not drowning. Still, Nicky decided to stay for a few minutes, just to make sure it would be okay. He looked around. The mother duck and her other babies had to be around here, somewhere.

Eventually, his phone pinged with a message from the restaurant, letting him know his order was ready to be picked up. He was startled to find that it had been over forty-five minutes since he’d left the safehouse. If he didn’t get back soon, Andy and Booker might start to worry.

Nicky looked wistfully at the duckling. “Off you go, little one. Go home to your family. I’ll go home to mine.” The duckling blinked up at him quizzically. “I’ll come visit you tomorrow, if you want,” Nicky tried. “In fact, I’ll bring Joe with me. You’ll love him. He’s the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. A ray of pure sunshine, just like you.”

As he spoke, he unconsciously reached out a hand to the duckling. To his utter shock, the creature hopped right up onto his palm and settled down.

“No, you can’t come with me,” he cajoled. “You belong here. In the water. Come on, in you go.” Reluctantly, it leapt back into the water, but made no move to swim away. Nicky pursed his lips, thinking hard. Maybe if he just got up and walked off, the duckling would go back to its family. He figured it was worth a shot.

Nicky got to his feet and turned around. He’d taken only two steps away from the pond when he heard a frantic splash behind him, followed by the soft thwack, thwack, thwack, of webbed feet on concrete. He whirled around.

“No, you have to go back to your pond!” he whispered urgently. The duckling tilted its head. “The pond!” Nicky gestured dramatically toward the fading light on the surface of the water. “You know, your home.”

Nicky sighed. He would just have to walk away as fast as possible. There was no way this baby duck could keep up; it would have no choice but to go back to its family. The thought made his heart break a little, but he had no other option. Taking a deep breath, he began to stride away purposefully.

In a matter of seconds, a series of tiny, woeful quacks stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find the duckling flopped over onto its stomach, crying.

“Ehi, no, piccolo mio,” Nicky exclaimed, rushing forward to gather the poor thing in his arms. He unbuttoned the top of his coat and held the duckling against his chest to warm it up. “Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s alright.”

He looked back towards the pond. There wasn’t one single other duck in sight. He looked down at the duckling, trembling weakly in his jacket as it calmed down. He sighed. Andy was going to throw a fit.

“Looks like you’re coming with me, little one.”

Nicky managed to smuggle the duckling in and out of the restaurant without anyone noticing. As he picked up the warm takeout boxes, the duckling poked its head out of his jacket to investigate this new source of warmth. By the time Nicky reached the safehouse, he was carrying four boxes of biryani stacked one on the other like a Christmas tree, with a sleeping ball of fluff on top where the angel would go.

Before he could even knock, the door flew open and Andy shoved her cellphone in his face.

“Look, it’s a message from Joe! He says his flight got delayed, but he’ll be here tomorrow morning!”

Nicky almost dropped their dinner (and the duckling) in his haste to grab the phone. Beneath the update, Joe had sent a selfie of himself at the airport terminal, captioned with a cheery “See, boss? I’m fine!” and a couple heart emojis. Looking at his beloved husband’s radiant smile, Nicky felt his eyes mist over involuntarily.

“There’s a duckling sleeping on my biryani.”

Nicky and Andy turned around. Booker, who must have maneuvered the takeout from Nicky’s hands while he’d been distracted by Joe, frowned dubiously at the stack of boxes.

“Do you see it, too, Andy? Or did I just drink way too much earlier?”

“Both,” Andy replied without missing a beat. “Nicky, why is there a duckling-”

“It followed me,” Nicky blurted out. “I was sitting by the pond and it fell out of the reeds right in front of me. After that, it just kept hanging out nearby. When I tried to put it by the pond and go, it started crying. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just leave it!”

“Okay, but what if its mother is looking for it?”

“I really, really tried to find the mom. But there wasn’t one other duck in that entire pond. I have no clue where this guy came from.” Nicky spread his hands helplessly.

Just then, the duckling woke up. For a frantic second, everyone held their breath as it flailed around, threatening to topple from the stack of boxes. But the moment it saw Nicky, it sat back down, contentedly preening its downy feathers.

“Oh my god,” Booker said incredulously. “Nicky, I think it imprinted on you.”

“What?” Nicky demanded.

“Oh, no way,” Andy countered. “Ducklings are supposed to imprint on their mother ducks. Nicky isn’t even the same species.”

“Yeah, but ducklings have been known to imprint on other animals, including humans,” Booker continued. “Especially if the mother is absent during the baby’s first few days for whatever reason, it will imprint on whoever it can find. Nicky, looks like you adopted a duckling. Or it adopted you. Good luck.”

“Oh no,” Nicky fretted. “I can’t raise a baby all by myself. Where is Joe, I need a co-parent! Andy, can I have some time off? Maybe, uh, a few weeks? Oh no, I don’t even know how long it takes for a duckling to grow up. I don’t know anything about ducklings. Booker, can you print out the Wikipedia page on ducklings for me?”

“Relax, Nicky,” Andy chided. “You’ve raised chicks before. How different can this really be?”

“8-12 weeks,” Booker read out from his laptop. “Nicky and Joe are going to need 8-12 weeks off to raise this duckling to full maturity. After that, they can reintroduce it to the pond.”

Andy sighed. “Fine. You two were gonna have time off anyway, since I have business in Portugal and Booker’s going to Germany because he scored tickets to the World Cup.”

“Oh, Joe didn’t want to come?” Nicky asked.

“I only managed to get one ticket,” Booker admitted. “I offered to let Joe go instead of me, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said maybe next time, if we get more tickets.”

“Oh. I guess that works out then.”

“For the record,” Andy said as she extracted her box from beneath the duckling, “this is absolutely ridiculous. Only you, Nicky, would go out for a walk to ‘clear your head,’ and come back with a real live orphan duckling.”

In the end, it was a good thing they were in Genoa, because Nicky had maintained his ties to the port city over the centuries and, in a matter of hours, was able to take out a lease for a small cottage closer to the pond. After dinner, Booker and Andy helped him shift his and Joe’s belongings, as well as some meager furniture, into the new place.

“I think I’ll stay the night,” Nicky decided as they finished up. “The duckling is already asleep on my jacket, and I don’t want to jostle it in the process of moving back to the safehouse.”

“Sounds good,” Andy said around a yawn. “We’ll send Joe over as soon as he drops off the mission file. Come on, Book. Time to go.” There was no response. “Booker?”

Booker tip-toed out of the room where the duckling was sleeping, waving his laptop around triumphantly. “She’s a baby pekin. That’s the species. Also she’s a she, in case you were wondering. See this faded eyeline?” He pointed to a picture on the laptop. “That’s how you can tell.”

“A she,” Andy grunted approvingly. “What are you going to name her, Nicky?”

“I don’t know. I’ll ask Joe tomorrow. He’ll come up with something pretty and meaningful.”

“Your laptop was dead, Nicky, so I plugged it in to charge,” Booker said, shoving his own laptop into a bag. “You’re gonna be doing a lot of googling, I think.”

“Thank you, Booker.”

“Mhm. Andy, let’s go? If I fall asleep before we make it back, you’ll have to carry me the rest of the way.”

“I’ll leave you on the footpath.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I might. Let’s go. ‘Night, Nicky.”

“Goodnight, you both. Safe travels, in case I don’t see you before your flights.”

The next morning, Nicky woke up to webbed feet padding determinedly across his chest. He opened his eyes to see beady black eyes staring down into his soul, and very nearly had a heart attack.

“Madre de dio!” he yelped, sitting up sharply. He managed to gather his bearings and catch the little ball of yellow fluff before it tumbled off the bed. “Piccolo mio, you can’t just do that!”

The duck let out several loud, indignant squawks, stomping around in his lap. Nicky furrowed his brow.

“Are you…yelling at me?”

The squawking and stomping continued.

“Oh,” Nicky surmised. “Maybe you’re hungry. Babies usually cry when they’re hungry. Is that right, preziosa? Shall we find you something to eat?”

Nicky doubted the duckling understood any of what he was saying, but she responded to his tone, nuzzling her tiny beak into his hand. He took that as a yes. Nicky climbed out of bed with a yawn, stretching thoughtfully as he walked over to the clothing trunk to get dressed.

That was how, ten minutes later, Joe walked in on Nicky standing at the kitchen table in yellow sleeping shorts and a yellow t-shirt, slicing green grapes in half as a very energetic duckling devoured them happily. Joe felt his lips curl up into a hopelessly wide smile.

“When Andy told me you had a surprise for me, this is not what I expected.”

Nicky dropped the knife and whirled around, practically throwing himself across the kitchen in his haste to wrap Joe up in his arms. Joe gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He clung to Nicky, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in. God, how he had missed him. Finally - finally- Joe felt like he was home.

After a few moments, Nicky pulled back, eyes shining as he cupped Joe’s face in his hands. “You stink,” he accused, before kissing him soundly. Joe’s protests died in his throat, and he grinned into the kiss, feeling full to the brim with happiness. He marveled quietly at his husband’s ability to make 900 years seem like the blink of an eye. Perhaps his body had stopped aging centuries ago, but it was only in his Nicolò’s arms that Joe still felt 31.

Eventually, a series of tentative chirps interrupted them, and they broke apart, laughing.

“Aww, amore mio, how rude! You haven’t introduced us yet,” Joe quipped, gesturing between himself and the duckling.

“Ah,” Nicky smiles sheepishly. “Joe, this is…a duckling. Duckling, this is Joe - remember the one I was telling you about by the pond? The one with a smile like sunshine, sweetest person you’ll ever meet?”

Nicky turned, and Joe kissed him again, impossibly more in love than he’d ever been in his life. The idea of his husband waxing poetic about him to ducklings in a pond was just too adorable to bear.

Later that afternoon, after Joe’s valiant but fruitless attempt to potty train the duckling and Nicky’s stoic re-sanitation of their patio threshold, they decided to swaddle the drowsy baby in a soft washcloth and watch a movie together while she napped. They sat on the loveseat Andy and Booker had carried in last night, the duckling nestled comfortably between them. Both of them elected to watch a soppy romantic indie they’d seen a hundred times before instead of the new action flick; it was Joe’s first day back, after all, and he’d really had enough of gunfire for a very long time. Nicky couldn’t agree more.

Around halfway through, Joe leaned forward and paused the laptop. He stroked a finger gently down the sleeping duckling’s back, and then looked up at Nicky.

“Did you really not pick out a name for her yet, amore?”

Nicky shrugged his shoulders with a half-smile. “I figured that’s your department, no? Coming up with something melodious, beautiful. Poetic. Some worthy descriptor for this lovely little creature.” Nicky yawned. Maybe the duckling’s need for sleep was rubbing off on him. “You’re the creative one.”

Joe gasped in mock offense. “You are creative!” he whispered insistently.

Nicky laughed softly. “Yes, coming up with ways to keep you enamored for nine centuries does take creativity.”

“You could laze about on this couch for the next nine centuries and I’d still love you more than life itself.”

Joe’s retort was very matter-of-fact, but Nicky melted like sugar in a flame. Given how often his husband said things like that, he didn’t see how it was possible to be caught off guard every single time. To be stunned into speechlessness, heart alive with emotion his tongue knew no words for. It made Nicky realize what the poets meant when they compared love to a river of fire that could only be crossed by drowning.

“I know, hayati,” he replied at length, leaning in for a kiss. “Believe me, I know.” Nicky did not add that he felt the same, that if they never so much as left this house for another millennia, their love would only continue to grow - but Joe heard it anyway.

The next evening, Nicky finished showering and, after a moment of contemplation, opted for a mustard-yellow sweatshirt and last night’s sleeping shorts. As he walked towards the kitchen to make dinner, he decided to ask Joe to run down to the local pet store and pick up a bag or two of proper duck feed. The duckling could only be expected to eat grape halves for so long. He reached the kitchen and promptly froze in the doorway.

On the counter was a large steel basin filled with water. Inside the basin was a very happy duckling, splashing around gleefully. Next to the counter was a rather disgruntled Joe, soaking wet and trying in vain to coax the duckling into staying still long enough for him to rub a little Dawn soap onto her back.

“Wallahi, Nicolina, a little soap doesn’t hurt! Come on, baths are nice. You’ll like it, I promise. Would you rather smell like pond water, or, uhh…” Joe squinted at the soap bottle. “It doesn’t say what scent this is, actually. But I’m sure it’s better than pond water, don’t you think?”

“Joe, what are you doing?” Nicky laughed from the doorway.

“Nicky! Oh, thank God you’re here.” The duckling seemed to agree, chirping excitedly at Nicky as he walked towards them. “Give me a hand, amore. Nicolina doesn’t like soap.”

“You’re calling her Nicolina?!”

“It suits her. She’s just a miniature you, see?” Joe managed to seize the duckling and hold it up next to Nicky. “Both yellow, both don’t like soap-”

“I like soap!”

“Both like to swim,” Joe continued, ignoring Nicky and putting the duckling back into the warm water.

“And I’m only wearing yellow to make the duckling feel more…at home, you know?”

“Pekin ducks are white, Nicky.”

“Well, this one’s clearly yellow.”

“That’s because it’s a baby. Mother ducks are white.”

Nicky shook his head to clear it. He’d definitely come in here with the intention of telling Joe something else, not arguing about duck colors.

“Oh, right! Joe, I meant to ask you - could you get duckling feed from the pet store while I make something for dinner? After you’re finished bathing her, of course. That way she’ll have something nutritious to eat tonight.”

Joe nodded, and then leveled Nicky with his best poker face, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “Who will have something nutritious to eat, amore?”

“She will.”

“Who?”

“The duckling, Joe.”

“Yes, but the duckling has a name, right?”

“ I am not calling her that.”

“Però-”

“Yusuf al-Kaysani, I swear-”

Joe put on his best puppy face. “But you said I could name her anything I want!”

“I said you could name her something beautiful and meaningful.”

“There is no name more beautiful and meaningful to me than yours, Nicolò. You asked me to find a worthy descriptor for her - and I found no better way to honor her charm and kindness than to name her after you. You stole my heart the moment I saw you, and she did the same. What can I do? It’s perfect.”

Nicky gaped at his husband. “Wha- I- You- Hayati! You can’t just say things like that!”

Joe gave a tiny smile, trying to hide his triumph and failing spectacularly. Nicky threw his hands up in surrender, circling around the counter to thoroughly kiss the smug look off Joe’s face.

“So the name can stay, then?” Joe asked, a little breathlessly, when Nicky pulled back.

“Don’t ask questions which you already know the answer to,” Nicky scolded, kissing him again. “Now go pick up duck feed before the pet store closes. Remember, if Nicolina doesn’t get dinner, then neither will you.”

Joe burst out laughing. He stashed the bottle of Dawn soap next to the sink, waving an alacritous finger at the duckling as he scrambled out of the kitchen. “Looks like you’re off the hook for today, little one!” Nicolina splashed and quacked enthusiastically in response. “Nicky, there’s a clean towel next to the basin to dry her off with. Can you-”

“I’ve got it, love. I’ll finish up here before starting dinner.”

“Grazie mille, see you in ten!” Joe called from the living room, grabbing his wallet and heading out the door. Nicky sighed, reveling in the peace of the moment, silent but for the gentle splashes and chirps of the duckling in front of him. Eventually, he picked up the towel.

“Alright, Nicolina. Let’s get you dry and warm for your nap, shall we?”

The next few weeks passed happily, with Nicolina becoming a central part of their family. She was extremely intelligent, managing to figure out potty training by the end of week two. It took until week three to convince her that soapy baths were a good thing, but she grew to love it enough that as soon as a bubble bath was prepared, she would hop in of her own volition. Both Joe and Nicky were ecstatic. By the time week four was drawing to a close, Nicolina had even learned how to turn her heat lamp on and off by herself, by stepping on the switch.

One evening, as Nicky was walking back to the cottage after running an errand, he was struck by a thought. Tomorrow, he realized, would be the one-month anniversary of having found Nicolina by the lake. Since the duckling wouldn’t be with them for a full year, this was probably their best chance to have a first birthday celebration for her. He pulled out his phone and hit recent.

“Hello, Joe?” He paused as Joe spoke. “Yes, yes, the post office was open. It went smoothly. Yeah - I wanted to ask, can you feed Nicolina and whip something up for dinner? I just remembered a thing; I’ll have to take a bit of a detour.” On the other end, Joe grumbled something about Nicky going on impromptu shopping trips without him. “I never said I was going shopping!” Nicky laughed. “But you’re right, as usual. Tell me, hayati, how am I supposed to surprise you with what I buy if I take you with me?”

The next morning, Nicky snuck out of bed before either Joe or Nicolina were awake. He decorated the living room of their cottage with baby blue and yellow balloons - some hanging off the roof and walls, others rolling around lackadaisically on the floor. Then, he puttered around the kitchen for a bit, mixing batter and putting two cakes in the oven to bake: a regular one, and a special miniature one made with all duck-friendly ingredients.

Miraculously, neither of his housemates had woken up to all the ruckus he’d made in the kitchen. Nicky tip-toed back into the bedroom and quietly slid a dress box from beneath the bed. He went to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

When he’d stopped at a clothing shop the previous night, Nicky had honestly been dismayed at the lack of birthday-appropriate formal wear available for men in any color other than dark blue, black, or tan. Certainly there was nothing even approaching some semblance of duckling yellow. Nicky had sighed in frustration - he should have brought Joe along after all. Joe would have known what to do.

Nicky could almost imagine his husband’s gleeful smile. “Amore, try this!” he would say, gesturing to the obnoxious excuse for a suit on Nicky’s right. “Or no, wait - what about this?” Nicky’s gaze had snagged on a lovely light yellow dress, on display in the women’s section across the aisle. It was a simple a-line dress with short sleeves and a flowy skirt that would probably come down to a little above his knee. There was no print, only a few tiny red flowers embroidered at the hem and on one sleeve. Also, it had pockets.

In his head, Nicky imagined Joe, who would have suggested the dress as a joke, tracking Nicky’s interest and suddenly getting on his soapbox about how men can wear dresses, too, because gendering clothing is stupid and outdated, and really, it was supposed to be hot tomorrow, did Nicky really want to spend Nicolina’s first birthday all uncomfortable in a scratchy suit, and…

Before he could second-guess himself, Nicky took the dress off the rack. He skipped the fitting room and decided to just pray that it looked good on him instead. He’d made his purchases and been halfway across the street when he realized that he hadn’t picked one out for Joe. He’d immediately turned and started walking back, earning a confused honk from a taxi driver who had to swerve to avoid him.

That was the story of how, on the morning of Nicolina’s first-month birthday, Joe came into the living room to see his husband in a stunning pastel-yellow dress, glowing like the sun itself among a shower of blue and gold balloons, playing peek-a-boo with a delighted duckling perched on the coffee table. Warmth and sunlight streamed through the open patio, and the air smelled sweetly of vanilla and cinnamon.

Joe pressed a hand to his heart, so overwhelmed with love that he was physically unable to breathe for a few seconds. Looking back, he prided himself on being able to remain standing at all. It shouldn’t be humanly possible, he thought, to fully and truly embody perfection to the degree that his Nicolò did. Joe smiled at the irony - he sometimes forgot that the very basis of their existence itself wasn’t humanly possible.

Nicolina spotted Joe first, and ran excitedly off the end of the table in a wildly risky attempt to take flight. Nicky gasped and lunged after her, managing to catch her before she hit the floor. “Nicolina, what the-”

He looked at Joe, standing open-mouthed in the living room entrance, and smiled. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well?”

“You’re beautiful,” Joe blurted out, like a thirteen-year-old talking to his crush. He frowned. Surely, Nicky’s current state of dress deserved something more poetic.

But Nicky’s smile only widened. “I’m so glad you like it, Joe. I have to confess, I had my doubts. But the look on your face convinces me I made the right decision.”

Joe opened his mouth to say, yes, yes this was absolutely the right decision, this might have been the best decision ever - but what really came out of his mouth was “Uh. Yeah. Can I, um. I really want to kiss you. If you want.”

Apparently, he would continue to be possessed by the ghost of an incoherent and besotted teenager for as long as Nicky was wearing this damn dress. Fortunately, Nicky seemed to find this endearing, laughing as he gently deposited Nicolina in his pocket - omg, it has pockets! - and walked up to Joe. He reached out to cradle Joe’s face in his hands, gazing at him like all the stars were in his eyes. Joe, who had just gotten out of bed and hadn’t even combed his hair, couldn’t imagine what Nicky was seeing, but the next moment, their lips were pressed together in a tender, blissful embrace, and every other thought in Joe’s head dissolved like salt in the ocean.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Nicky exclaimed, pulling back all too soon. “I got one for you, too! It’s in a dress box under the bed. Would you be interested?”

Joe blinked as his brain caught up. “One for me?”

“Yes, and don’t worry, I picked something you’ll like. It’s not tacky or unfashionable, I promise-”

“I like everything you pick.”

“That’s not true, you didn’t like the t-shirt I wore two days ago-”

“I like everything you pick for me.”

Nicky paused, trying to find a counterexample. “Ah. I guess you do. Well, go try this one on, then! Let’s see.”

Five minutes later, when Joe hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom in his new dress, Nicky realized that he had vastly overestimated his own ability to remain a functioning member of society with Joe looking like that. Even Nicolina, now resting quietly on a bunched-up blanket on the couch, couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him.

“Well?” Joe asked, giving an experimental twirl that did nothing for Nicky’s screaming brain. “Does it look okay?”

Joe was wearing a knee-length deep teal sheath dress with a dribble of silver sequins spilling down one side like stardust. A shallow v-neck gave way to a sleeveless top, and the richly colored fabric fit snugly against his hips in a way that had not been nearly so breathtaking on the mannequin. Like Nicky’s own, this dress was simple, without excess print or decoration. Still, the way it looked on Joe as he stood there, smiling a little shyly in the late morning sunlight, left Nicky stunned.

He tried to speak around the sudden dryness in his mouth, but no sound came out. Rather, Nicolina chirped up first, quacking approvingly from her comfy spot on the couch. Joe grinned, crouching down next to the duckling.

“Aww, thank you, little one. At least someone has feedback for me.” Nicolina nuzzled her beak into his cheek affectionately.

Nicky sat back down on the couch and put his head in his hands. Joe glanced up.

“Nicky?” he asked, a little worried now. He walked over and sat down next to him. “Amati, is everything alright? Do you not like it? I can change back-”

“Mashallah, Yusuf,” Nicky said hoarsely, taking Joe’s hands in his. When he looked up, Joe was shocked to see tears glistening in his eyes. “It’s just - you are the most beautiful, wonderful, miraculous being that God has ever created, and I never forget this, but sometimes I am reminded anew and I just- I am left in awe of you, of your endless love and beauty. I can’t handle any of this. You’re too handsome, too kind. I wish I had one hundred hearts to love you with.” He sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

For the second time that day, Joe was rendered utterly speechless. On Nicky’s other side, Nicolina whimpered worriedly, climbing out of her blanket nest and nosing at his elbow. He chuckled wetly, reaching out to pet her.

“I’m fine, piccolo mio. Better than fine. Don’t worry.” To Joe, he said, “Sorry. I’m overreacting.”

“No,” Joe mumbled. He dropped his head to Nicky’s shoulder, reverently bringing their joined hands to his lips. “Ti amo, Nicolò. So much. Thank you.”

Nicolina clambered onto Nicky’s lap, snuggling close to him for warmth. Nicky caressed her downy feathers comfortingly. He turned and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Joe’s head. It had been a busy morning, and they still had big plans for the day, Nicky knew. A nice long walk in the park, visiting Nicolina’s pond, eating cake, maybe going out somewhere fancy for lunch or dinner (somewhere that allowed pets; he would have to google it). But for now, he allowed himself to just breathe, swathed in bone-deep contentment.

Over the course of the next month, they took Nicolina to the pond every single day. By week five, her feathers were growing out in earnest, and she could fly quite reliably. In week six, Nicky and Joe got comfortable leaving her at the pond unsupervised, using the time to run short errands before returning to pick her up. By week seven, Nicolina would stay out longer and longer, often loathe to leave the water even after the sun had set.

As week eight drew to a close, Nicky reminded Joe to pack an extra jacket for their trip to the pond. Nicolina ran ahead of them excitedly. The pond was always her favorite part of the day. After watching her splash about for a bit, Joe went for a walk around the park, and Nicky left to go grocery shopping for the upcoming week.

When Nicky returned, Joe was back on the bench in front of the pond. For a second, Nicky had a vivid flashback to the evening this all started - he’d been sitting in that very spot, worrying about Joe, when Nicolina had quite literally dropped into his life. He shook his head fondly at the memory.

“Joe?” He approached the bench. Joe looked up at him and smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

“How was groceries?”

“Ah. Nothing too remarkable. A lady spilled a gallon of milk in the aisle where we were waiting to pay, and then we all got distributed into different queues, so it took longer than usual.”

Joe clicked his tongue sympathetically. For the next couple hours, they sat mostly in silence, listening to the sounds of the evening and watching the last rays of sunlight fade from the surface of the pond. As it got dark, the park slowly emptied out, save for a few teenagers roasting marshmallows over a fire pit in the distance.

Nicky sighed deeply, holding his arm out to Joe. Joe scooted closer, wrapping his arms around Nicky’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder.

“She’s not coming back tonight, is she,” Joe whispered. Nicky squeezed his shoulder, pulling him closer.

“Got attached, Yusuf?”

Joe huffed. “Two months is nothing in the span of centuries, right? So why…” He trailed off, but Nicky heard what was left unspoken.

“The heart only knows how to live in the present, hayati. That is why it falls in love. That is why it cries when something ends. Even if we always knew it would.”

“You’re so composed - won’t you miss her?”

“I will. Terribly so. It just hasn’t sunk in yet, so I can offer you wisdom like a hypocrite.”

Joe smiled sadly. “When it sinks in, I’ll do the same for you.”

“I know, my love. My all.” After a few minutes, he said, “Give me that extra jacket.” Joe handed it to him, and Nicky shook it out, wrapping it like a blanket around Joe’s shoulders. “Lie down.” Joe lay his head in Nicky’s lap, stretching his feet out onto the bench. Nicky wove his fingers through Joe’s hair calmingly. “Alright?”

“Mhm. Nicky?”

“Yes?”

“Are we staying the night?”

“We can stay as long as you want.” ___

“The end,” Nicky said with a flourish.

“Wait, what?” Nile lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously. “What do you mean, the end? You never saw her again?”

“Of course we saw her again,” Joe answered from the floor. “We walked by the pond several times a week, and she would always swim over to say hi when she saw us. It was the sweetest thing.”

“About a month later,” Nicky picked up the narrative, “Booker got back from Germany and Andy from Portugal. We took a series of back-to-back missions after that, and didn’t get to return to Genoa until early spring.”

Joe’s phone buzzed on the counter, and he got up to go check it.

“Mhm, and then?” Nile prompted.

“Well, when we got back, we came by the pond to see if the ducks had returned to their northern habitats yet. As we stood by the water, one duck, a beautiful, white bird, swam gracefully up to us and nuzzled our ankles for a bit. She looked really happy to see us.”

“Oh my gosh - Nicolina?!”

Nicky smiled in confirmation. “Do you know, she had a mate? He was quite lovely, too. They made a good pair.”

“Wow,” Nile breathed. “That’s so awesome.”

“Guys, look at this.” Joe walked back to them, phone outstretched. “A message from Booker.”

Nicky took the phone, and Nile leaned over to see. On the screen was a photo of Andy curled up next to a Vietnamese woman that Nile had only ever seen before in her dreams. Quynh, she knew. Andy was fast asleep, and Quynh smiled serenely at the camera. Her eyes looked like she had been crying, but her happiness was evident, even in the hastily taken picture. The message beneath it read “they’re letting me stay the night,” followed by a tentative thumbs up and smiley face.

Nicky grinned. “Oh, God. I can’t wait to see her. And look at them - I told you, Joe.”

Joe leaned in for a quick kiss. “I never doubted it.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #kaysanova #found family #fanfiction #tog fanfic #kavi writes #loooong post #yeah this one got away from me idk what happened #but I love how it turned out!#feedback always welcome <3 #fluff #no seriously this is just tooth-rotting fluff be warned

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butter3drainbows · 4 years

Note

Ughhh I’ve felt really emotionally drained recently, so is it ok if I request some hcs of Bruno, Caesar, or Lisa Lisa trying to help a neurodivergent/stressed/tired s/o calm down and relax? Sorry for the oddly specific ask lol you don’t have to answer if it’s too niche lolol

I don't usually accept requests but the inbox is empty and you managed to spark inspiration so Imma write you some anon ❤️ I hope they manage to make your day/night a little better 🥺🌃💖

Bruno

Bruno will immediately pick up on your demeanor but won't say anything at first

I know fandom usually depicts him as this smooth, romantic gentleman who knows exactly what his S/O will need or want given a situation but canon Bruno hasn't exactly been surrounded by loved ones for most of his life since he joined Passione so I imagine him being more clumsy in his efforts to make his S/O feel better.

Dealing with an S/O he truly loves and cares about when they're feeling down is admittedly a challenge for him. It takes a little more delicacy and warmth, not like how he would usually go about it when one of his teammates is feeling bummed out where a few encouraging words and a firm grip on their shoulders will do

He will worry if the efforts he's exerting are enough to cheer you up and will constantly be assessing your mood every few minutes

He would take you out for a walk around the city and offer to buy you whatever catches your eye

You've been eyeing that cute stuffed toy behind the glass windows? He'll usher you in the shop and while you browse the items in the store, he will already have purchase the stuffed animal and present it to you.

"For you, amore...O-oh do you not like it? Don't worry! I can get you another one. I'll let you choose this time. You like it? Oh, that's a relief but I can still get you another one of your choosing if you like."

The relief on his face will be evident when he sees you smile genuinely for the first time after a few of his purchasing blunders.

Will feel his stomach flutter when he manages to make you laugh.

He managed to make you smile tonight. He guessed he's doing something right after all.

Caesar

Will notice the droop of your shoulders and the less than bright look on your face right away.

No matter how much you hide your true feelings from Caesar, he will without fail, manage to coax out your grievances to him.

He will coo at you and ask you what's wrong and generally make your own personal bubble his own as he pulls you onto his lap or just holds you close while he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks.

If you don't feel like going out he will offer to make you dinner at home. This man knows how to cook! He can't be the designated cassanova of the series and not know how.

He will announce to his staff that he will be cooking for you and himself tonight but will leave them the responsibility of prepping a table by the gazebo outside his large home.

He knows you are feeling a little better if you hover somewhere beside him while he cooks. He offers you small spoonfuls of the food he will serve and run a thumb at the corners of your lips with every morsel he feeds you.

The light in your eyes when you get a taste of his cooking will have his heart constricting. How can you be this cute!?

"Does it need anything? More salt? Pepper? Perhaps more sugar? Oh, Would you like for me to administer it through a kiss? Haha I'm only teasing, mio cuore. Hmm finally, you're smiling."

After dinner, he invites you to go for a little evening stroll. He will try to bring up a conversation but if he feels like you need more peace and quiet, will indulge you and simply hold you close while you walk.

If he sees you starting to show signs of being sleepy, he will sweep you off your feet and carry you back to the mansion, shushing your protests with kisses if there are any.

You deserve everything that he could offer and more and he will willingly lay all the earthly treasures he can afford at your feet if it means getting to see you smile.

Lisa Lisa

If you made the mistake of letting your stress/tiredness show in front of LL, prepare to explain everything to her.

One look with a soft "Tell me what's wrong, dove." while she tips your chin up will be all it takes to have your thoughts spilling.

I like to think that Lisa Lisa will directly solve your problems for you if the source of your problems are coming from a situation that she can somehow pull some strings on.

You would beg her not to and insist to just let you deal with it on your own and help you relax because that's all you need right now. She would acquiesce with a frown but will agree to help you forget about your worries with activities that will help you relax.

She will either take you out for a relaxing day at the spa or a shopping spree in your chosen stores (clothes, books, pets, plants, hardware you name it, she'll get it for you)

She will keep on bringing up her offer to "pull the problem by the root" while she holds you by the hips while you walk, but you insist that it's unnecessary and that spending time with her is enough.

"The offer still stands, my sweet. There are little things that I am unwilling to do for you, you know that."

Despite your protests, she will do as she pleases anyway and passively clip the thorn/s that have been bothering you.

She imagines that you would tell her how it was really unnecessary for her to do the things she did behind the scenes but it wouldn't have sit well with her knowing you had these kinds of troublesome situations that she knows she has the solutions for.

She just wants you to live comfortably and be happy and she will let you know that she will try her hardest to keep you that way, consequences be damned.

#Asks #Headcanons #CaesarZepelli #BrunoBucciarrati #LisaLisa #MuchHugs #Ihopeyourefeelingokayanon!

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tirorah · 3 years

Text

’Minna’s Sky’ is Road to Berlin’s Crowning Achievement

A long time ago, in a universe far, far away, three young girls met each other during a war: Minna, the caring leader; Gertrud, the stalwart defender; and Erica, the lazy prodigy who kept them smiling.

As the fighting continued, a friendship began to form. And now, years later, that friendship lies at the heart of something truly exceptional.

Minna’s Sky is the culmination of twelve-and-a-half years of relationship development, and it gives this special trio the sendoff it deserves. I was overcome with conflicting emotions while I watched this episode; when it finished, I was left shaken and almost lost for words.

…Which is why I wrote an essay on it! And that entire essay is contained under the cut, so you’d best buckle up and hold onto something, because today we’re diving into what I believe to be the pièce de résistance of Strike Witches.

In a previous post speculating on what Minna’s Sky could hold—which, by the way, was thoroughly proven wrong—I took a moment to outline my love for Minna and my frustration with her neglect. Initially, this trend continued in Road to Berlin: in episodes 6 and 8, the characters were faced with circumstances that would’ve been greatly helped by a Witch with Space Understanding magic. Of course, I understand why the writers chose to exclude Minna from these events; having Minna there would’ve negated the drama of Trude thinking Erica was dead, and of Sanya and Eila clashing over conflicting sensory reports.

But Minna’s episode hit back hard. If RtB is Strike Witches’ magnum opus, then Minna’s Sky may well be RtB’s masterpiece among masterpieces. It combines the intensity and raw emotion of Hounds of Vengeance with a ticking time bomb that ratchets up the tension all the way through, finishing with a series of events that makes you feel like anything can happen.

Role Reversal

Minna’s Sky starts with a surprise right away. In episode 8, Minna and Trude expressed anxiety over losing their magic. At this point they’re just under three months removed from their 20th birthdays, where decay will certainly start to set in. But in this episode, we learn Minna’s already feelings the effects. At first this confused me, as their birthdays are only nine days apart, but I do recall seeing something about how Trude’s magical reserves are pretty large, second only to Yoshika’s. I can’t find my source for that, but this could be an explanation for Minna’s earlier decline.

Trude notices Minna’s flagging strength, and at that point, a switching of roles takes place.

Minna, who once held Mio at gunpoint for refusing to give up on flight, is now doing the same thing. She’s still herself, but she essentially slips into Mio’s previous role. She takes this burden upon herself and stops communicating with the others over it, even avoiding them during mealtime.

Last episode, we could see her mask starting to slip, and here, all her logic and serenity fades, replaced with a wholly emotional desire. She and her girls have worked so hard to get here, and she wants to uphold her vow of retaking Berlin, so she makes the decision to give this fight everything she has, despite the danger involved.

This puts her at odds with Trude, who slides into the calm and perceptive role Minna used to fill.

You know, Trude may be my favorite character of all time, but she hasn’t always been handled well. In Season 1, she was a great balance of the calm and quiet supporter, and the stern disciplinarian who thought yelling at Erica would make her get up earlier. In Season 2, this equilibrium was lost; it leaned much more into her anger, and there were precious few moments of Trude being the gentle and tender woman I know she can be. The movie had the same problem, as it had to reintroduce eleven characters in one sitting. Operation Victory Arrow worked hard to remedy this problem, focusing on smaller casts which gave them time to show different sides of themselves—like Minna and Trude having breakfast like a married couple. Ahem.

This is one reason why RtB has been so gratifying for me. It knows what it’s doing with Trude and while she’s certainly had some angry moments, RtB has built her up as a more mature, level-headed executive officer. Consequently, it feels natural for her to take up the position Minna would usually hold in this type of situation.

Even when she privately confronts Minna over her magic, there is no anger, only attempts to reason her friend out of her decision. But Minna doesn’t want Kiel to be lost, and at that moment, it’s made clear that she prioritizes Operation Southwind over her own well-being.

And this is entirely contradictory with what she usually tells her girls! Like I said before, the 501st is a circle of love, and while that love motivates them to fight for one another’s sakes, as Sanya did, it now leads Minna down a path of self-sacrifice that would’ve absolutely killed her if it was one of her girls doing it. Moreover, with Trude now filling Minna’s role, she’s the one pleading with Minna not to go, and like Minna once failed to stop Mio, Trude now fails to stop Minna.

This causes inner turmoil. Trude doesn’t want to lose Kiel, but if Minna perishes, she’d never forgive herself. Like she said in Hounds of Vengeance, when she thought Erica was dead, retaking Berlin would have no point if Minna wasn’t there to celebrate it with them.

It says something, then, that Trude chooses to go along with Minna’s wishes, and even keeps her waning magic a secret from the others. Instead of declaring Minna unfit for battle—which I imagine she has every right to do—she instead becomes Minna’s most ardent protector, immediately volunteering for the high-risk operation. When Minna becomes anxious and nearly makes a mistake, Trude is there to rein her in and calm her down. Minna even comments on how this would usually be the other way around.

Fortunately, Minna is better at this self-sacrificing stuff than Mio is. While she initially uses her desire to protect Kiel to justify her actions, a heartfelt campfire scene shows us that she’s aware of the ramifications her death would have. As Erica complains about their fake coffee, Minna promises to make her a proper batch when they return; Trude tells her not to make such promises, but Minna reassures her she’ll come back safe, and even proposes they go to a café together once Berlin is retaken. On the surface, they’re making plans for the future; but underneath, it’s an implied message to Trude: I understand. I’m not going out to die. I’ll come back.

Isn’t that first pic just the cutest Trude shot ever, by the way?

And Trude is pacified. She places her trust in Minna and continues to support her as best she can.

Of course, things are never that simple. Minna succeeds at her objective, and just when the episode seems to be steering to a happy conclusion, the Hive screeches and loads up all its rockets at the same time. As Trude once again begs her to stop, she does the unthinkable: she cuts the line and dives into a suicide run, breaking one promise to keep another.

The facial expressions and body language have been god-tier in RtB.

I must commend Tanaka Rie here. I’ve often complimented Sonozaki Mie (who voices Trude) for her impeccable delivery, but Tanaka Rie is equally excellent, possibly better in some departments (like range, just hear her role in Mai Otome for example). Here, as Negai no Tomoshibi starts playing in the background, the gravity of the scene rests entirely on Tanaka’s voice work. And boy, does she nail it! The exhaustion, the desperation, the sheer will, it’s all there. Her desperate pants and cries at the end are especially powerful, and they make this scene even more dramatic when she faints right after.

Trude manages to catch her—and only Trude was there, because 1: we only saw Trude catching her; 2: the hand we see is Minna’s left, and in the next shot, Trude is carrying her right arm instead; and 3: we only saw one blue dot in the Hive, and the episode previously established one dot was one Witch.

Ahem! Trude catches her and brings her back, and she…breaks down.

Wow. Trude doesn’t cry easily, you know. We’ve seen her depressed, despondent, even heard her sob as she told Yoshika to leave her behind, but until Hounds of Vengeance, we’d never seen Trude cry. While that one ended in a victorious moment, here the emotion is allowed to run its course, and it’s heartbreaking. Trude doesn’t just cry, she weeps, and as she yells and screams at Minna that she could never follow an order that would involve leaving Minna behind, her facial expressions convey just how terrified she truly was.

I said earlier that Minna switched to Mio’s role, and while that’s true, there’s something even more poetic at work here: this episode mirrors Season 1’s Episode 4 in some places, to the point that I feel like it has to be on purpose. That’s one reason why I made this photoset. Just look at this:

Oh look, more apologizing! These two are so emotionally responsible to one another. It’s always good to see.

The roles are shown as reversed, with Trude crying and reprimanding Minna, and Minna apologizing for her actions and agreeing on a better path forward.

Sexy Gal

I also need to devote some space to Erica here. She wasn’t as prominent—Minna and Trude’s bond took center stage—but this episode is probably the best showcase of Erica’s qualities. We already saw her surviving in the woods and rationing her chocolate three episodes prior, but here, it’s clear more than ever what her role is in the Karlsland Trio’s support structure: the morale boost.

In the “Erica Hartmann 1941” manga, we’re shown how Erica becomes a ray of hope for everyone, and especially Minna and Trude, whom she begins to develop a friendship with at that time. It’s this aspect which is finally on full display here: while she’s not as overt with her support as Trude is, she helps in her own way, and her easy-going personality consistently puts a smile on her friends’ faces. That’s why it’s so important that it’s Erica who makes Minna laugh—not once, but twice. In a group where the other two members have their fair share of baggage, Erica is a breath of fresh air and equally important.

Rising Tension

Okay, with the character work out of the way, let’s look at the episode’s story. Because holy crap, I felt like I was watching a movie! At first, I was a little annoyed by some of the stiff animation (especially for RtB’s standards). I was afraid they were going to half-ass Minna’s episode. But as the episode proceeded and absolutely everything got better and better, I realized I was in for a very special ride.

I’ve always had the opinion that Strike Witches is at its best when it plays its war drama straight, but it’s not as simple as striking the serious tone and having the characters fight for their lives. Strike Witches isn’t a pure action show; the stakes in battle often revolve around the characters overcoming their flaws, struggling to protect the world and those they hold dear. Thus, Strike Witches relies on its lighter moments to develop the cast so that when danger comes to them, your emotional investment in the characters helps to create additional tension.

In general, RtB has been great at this, but for me personally, the most emotionally intense episode prior to Minna’s Sky was Episode 6: Hounds of Vengeance.

But that one was different. It started off with relatively low tension, then brought it up to full when Erica was left behind and Trude had a meltdown over it. But when it’s revealed that Trude isn’t just moping around, and that she’s working on a plan, the tension evens out. The central question goes from ‘Will Erica survive?’ to ‘How awesome will Trude be in this episode?’ The climactic action is triumphant, and although Trude’s reaction to Erica’s ‘body’ is heartbreakingly real, we as viewers know that Erica is fine; in fact, she hasn’t seemed that down at all, obviously having faith in her rescue.

Episode 9 doesn’t do that. It immediately confronts you with Minna’s magic issue and her hiding it from her friends, then pretends to be innocent for a while, with Patton being an idiot and Ursula introducing her helmet gun. (“It’s a helmet, with a gun on it.” NO, REALLY?) But as soon as the Komet is introduced, the pressure builds and it never lets up.

It all comes to a head when the trio (plus Ursula) reaches the launch point. Minna’s been dropping death flags all episode, and now things go haywire over and over. An hour left? Nope, the Neuroi spotted you and moved up the rocket’s launch. Barely enough time to intercept the rocket? Hey, there’s that Neuroi that beat the two top aces of the world in single combat, and it’s coming to stop you. Thirty seconds to go for the fuel? The Neuroi gets past Trude and Erica and nearly destroys the Komet, hurts Ursula and blows up one of their trucks. Trude and Erica get it away from there? Oh look, the Hive’s about to launch!

We then get an epic scene where Minna takes off, uses her magic, and destroys the rocket. Speaking of which, I didn’t say anything about this when I talked about episode 8, but I’m so happy we finally get to see some of the Witches’ magic from their point of view! Seeing Eila’s future sight was haunting, and Minna’s is awesome to see as well. Erica and Trude manage to finish off their quarry, showing their skill and adaptability; it seems their prior experience means they’re better prepared to deal with its unique movements this time around.

Erica asks for chocolate and grumbles when Trude tells her she’ll get some later. Minna laughs, but there’s still that tension because Minna’s fuel is almost up, and she’s hanging around that damn Hive.

And then the Hive loads up all its rockets at once, and all hell breaks loose. Trude loses control of the situation as Minna goes on a suicide run, and then the insert song starts playing. It’s difficult to explain the impact of that song without simply showing you the episode. The moment that piano hits, it feels as though a veneer of tragedy descends upon the scene. The Komet nearly stops working, and Minna is on her last legs, and she’s reduced to nothing but cries and gasps. She faints moments after she destroys the last rocket.

And then the music gets louder as Minna plummets into the Hive, red slowly filling the screen. We’re treated to a long shot of Minna falling into the swirling, angry clouds, her tiny form fading into its mass. And at that point I freaked the fuck out.

It was somewhere around Season 2’s finale and watching the movie that I realized Strike Witches doesn’t kill off characters. Let’s just say killing a beloved character probably wouldn’t work too well for future sales. (“Hey, look at this awesome figure of the girl who died! Don’t you just love her? We’ll accept your tears as interest.”) If Mio of all people can have plot armor rivaling the size of the planet, then Minna sure as hell won’t perish here.

And yet, for a fleeting moment, I was absolutely terrified she would. All because of the masterful tension of this episode, and this entire fight scene in particular.

Fortunately, Trude manages to locate Minna in the clouds and brings her back, and the viewer can finally breathe easier as we head to the happy ending they deserve.

…Oh right, the ending.

Yuri alert

Let me start off by saying this ending is complete bullshit. It feels shoehorned in—no, I don’t care what historical event it’s referencing—and it doesn’t fit the tone of the episode at all.

Having said that, as much as this made me laugh (even more than Trude’s literal asspull in Hounds of Vengeance) it did get one thing completely right: yes, Ursula, it IS very beautiful. The love between these three is great. What kind of love that exactly is, I’m not entirely sure anymore.

Yes, you’re going to roll your eyes at this—oh no, she’s going to rant about Minna x Trude again—but…I was watching this ending, right, and I could almost hear the gears in my brain turn as I tried to process this image. Emotionally, I felt like this ending was communicating love of a different sort.

Look, for all I know they’re just best buds who’ve come to deeply rely on one another for emotional and psychological stability, but my god, this ending definitely felt like a ‘oh by the way, the three of them are married to each other’ signal to me. I’m not joking!

Does that make Minna x Trude canon, even as part of an OT3? No. In fact, for all the delightful Minna x Trude subtext this episode had…

Deflection by way of flirtation. Oh là là~!

…Trude did all but confess to Erica in episode 6, and later this week, Mio might finally return in a big way and might have screen time with Minna. But my point is, in that moment, my ship felt realer than ever. In that respect, this episode gave me more than I ever thought I’d receive.

Insert clever ending header here

Right, so that’s my ramble on Minna’s Sky. I hope I’ve managed to get across why I believe it’s the best episode of the entire series. The character writing was top-notch, the tension was through the roof, the music was evocative and the animation was beautiful. Barring an absolutely spectacular final three episodes (and I wouldn’t put it past RtB to deliver that), I think this is as good as it gets. It’s not easy to beat emotional stakes that were established twelve years ago, after all.

Minna’s Sky was absolutely the episode Minna deserved, and I was very happy to see the Karlsland Trio getting its spot in the limelight as we gradually draw closer to the ending. It’s their home they’re trying to take back, after all. And while I have no doubt Minna will continue to fly until the end of the season (she seems to be fine in the preview), Operation Southwind will most likely be the bookend to Minna and Trude’s careers.

I can only hope this won’t be the last we see of Minna and Trude. I’d love it if we got to see their lives after Karlsland’s liberation, either as supporting members of the Wing or trying to live normal lives after fighting a war for nearly a decade. (Shameless plug: I have a Minna x Trude fanfic which explores the latter.)

But most of all, I don’t want Road to Berlin to end.

#strike witches #road to berlin #minna-dietlinde wilcke #gertrud barkhorn #erica hartmann #minna x trude #minna x trude x erica?#anime

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sage-nebula · 4 years

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Game Review — Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles Remastered Edition

About seventeen years ago, I played a Gamecube game called Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles, and for the most part I really loved it. I got lost in every single dungeon all the time, and I really hated the annoying moogle I had to drag around, but other than that I loved the game. So it makes sense, then, why I would be excited when I heard it was getting a remastered release on Switch.

Overall Score: 6/10

While I was happy to get a chance to play this game again, I feel like Square-Enix whacked both of its kneecaps in two different ways. One, they did a remaster instead of a remake, meaning they just gave it a little polish instead of fixing existing issues; and two, they decided for some reason to port it to mobile phones, which I feel created some issues, though I admit I don’t have any proof of that. While I still enjoyed my time with the game for the most part, it definitely receives a lower score than I think I would have given the original in my youth. More details under the cut, best viewed on my blog for formatting.

The Pros:

This isn’t specific to the remaster, but rather more about the game itself, but one thing I think is notable about the setting is that it’s essentially a post-apocalyptic story, but it’s one where the people haven’t completely fallen into despair and ruin. I mean, some places have; there’s a village called Tida whose caravan never returned and so they all died slow deaths of miasma as their crystal’s protection ran out. But in other villages, including the player’s hometown, people are living their lives as best they can. Some people are even trying to find a way to get rid of the miasma altogether. While of course there is much to stress about and also people’s memories being taken from them, overall the world looks a bit brighter than in most post-apocalyptic stories. It’s always nice when post-apocalyptic stories recognize that even after the end, life still goes on.

I’ve also always rather enjoyed the way the way the game constantly reminds you that you’re not the only caravan out on this journey. You encounter caravans from other towns and villages pretty often, and their stories intersect with yours, growing as the in-game years pass. It’s another thing that makes the world feel alive, because you see again and again that there are other heroes out there, heroes of their own stories, that you’re just one of many in this world trying your best to get by and keep your village alive.

The soundtrack is also something that deserves praise, because it has a very . . . Celtic, I think? flair to it that really suits the setting, especially since the narrator has (what I believe is) an Irish accent. I can’t think of a single bad song in the entire game, and many of them are catchy and bouncy and fun to listen to.

After each little cutscene or dungeon, you get an entry added to the in-game journal, and I enjoy those as well. It helps keep track of the little side stories going on (since they span over years), and I like how some of them change depending on the choices you’re given in any given cutscene. That said, I do have a slight issue with them as well, but I’ll discuss that in a different section.

If you play single-player, the game assigns a moogle named Mog to carry the crystal chalice through the dungeons with you so you don’t suffocate due to the miasma. (In multiplayer, another player has to carry it.) This results in Mog getting tired, saying, “I’m tired, kupo, it’s your turn!” and making you carry it sometimes anyway, even if you’re being chased by monsters. When I played this game as a kid, it seemed like he was saying this EVERY FIVE SECONDS and it was THE MOST annoying thing. But it didn’t feel as frequent this time, and when I looked it up, I saw that the devs actually did extend the amount of time Mog could carry the chalice before he got tired. I appreciated this very much, even if Mog was still annoying.

The Neutrals:

From what I can tell, there wasn’t really a graphics overhaul done, except to increase the jiggle physics on female Selkies, which . . . I’m not a prude, I don’t really care that much (even though it can be distracting), but of all the things you chose to fix, it was this? Square-Enix, please.

While on the one hand I like that there’s no set order that you can encounter the random travel cutscenes in, that they can happen whenever, because it makes it feel like a more realistic journey . . . it also creates the problem that the events will still trigger even if you’re already finished the associated quest line. For example, to get the Unknown Element that lets you reach the final boss area, you have to complete a series of actions in Lynari Desert. You find out what you have to do through a series of travel cutscenes with a swindler named Gurdy, who gives you poem verses that strongly hint at what you need to do. I had a few of these before I reached the desert, but not all of them, so I just looked up a guide to get the remainder of the instructions. Despite this, I still later triggered the final Gurdy cutscene, and so it was like my character was standing there with the desert treasure while Gurdy told her about the desert treasure . . . it’s not a huge deal, but it does show how the idea of having random travel cutscenes is kind of flawed. (Additionally, you can beat the game without even finishing certain stories as a result, so it’s entirely possible you could get to Mio and not know who she’s talking about in the end. It’s not game breaking, but it is a bit of an issue too.)

The Cons:

The LOADING TIMES, OH MY GOD. This game has the longest loading times of any game I have ever played on the Switch, and I confirmed with someone who has played the original a billion times that these loading time issues were not present in the original game, meaning they are a direct result of development on the “remaster.” Literally, the game goes to a blank loading screen that lasts a good minute or two for almost everything. For every cutscene you have, any time you leave or enter a place, hell, even QUITTING THE GAME has a “Closing Software” box for FAR LONGER than any other Switch title, to the point where it made me afraid for a moment that my Switch, brand new though it is, was broken. I don’t know why the loading times are so bad, but I personally blame it on Square-Enix wanting to make the game multiplatform (multiplatform including fucking cell phones), thus not optimizing it for any one console. And on a similar note . . .

Online multiplayer is region-locked. Yes, you read that right. Two friends who I’d originally intended to caravan with live in Europe, and since I live in North America, we were unable to play together since Square-Enix decided to region-lock online multiplayer. It is honestly the most batshit stupid thing I have ever heard of. The only reasoning I can think of for why they did this is because of mobile phone support; it’s entirely possible that there is something within a phone’s SIM card that would make it not possible to play multiplayer across different continents, but honestly I have trouble believing even that since I believe that’s not a problem in other mobile games. Either way, the entire point of online play is to be able to play with anyone, no matter where they are, and the fact that in the year 2020 Square-Enix decided it was a good idea to region-lock online play is fucking ridiculous.

A minor complaint, but you can’t use the left joystick to scroll between items in menus. You have to use the little arrow buttons instead. This was also the case in the Switch port of Final Fantasy XII, so I think it’s a Square-Enix preference thing, but it annoyed me and I wish they’d at least give the option to change button configuration around.

There’s backtracking as the years go on that I personally found kind of annoying, especially when it made me go to dungeons I didn’t particularly like. The thing is, the gameplay in FFCC doesn’t have a lot of variance; you go to three dungeons, you fight three bosses, then the year ends and you repeat it the next year. The only real variety is in the dungeons themselves as you get to explore new ones. But in Year 5, you HAVE to repeat dungeons because you’re blocked off from going to new areas. And at a certain point there stops being new dungeons altogether, so you have to repeat dungeons if you want to get myrrh for the village. And yeah, the dungeons are a bit harder each time, but the layout is still the same, and so it made what was already a repetitive style of gameplay even more repetitive, which honestly made me eager to finish it as quickly as possible despite wanting to grind as long as possible when I first got the game because I wanted to avenge my childhood self, who never managed to beat the final boss.

The four different races to choose from all have different styles of gameplay, and you can make multiple characters in one file to fill out your caravan / open specialty shops all around town. The problem is, the only character in the caravan who gets stat boosts and experience from the dungeons is the one who goes through them, and the dungeons get tougher each time they’re completed. So unless you constantly rotate your characters, creating more characters to fill out the caravan and be able to use different play styles per different boss (such as using a Yuke when facing a boss like Dragon Zombie who can really only be affected by magic) is a pointless waste of time because your extra characters won’t be strong enough to face the boss you need them to face. I don’t know if this was an issue in the original, but it’s definitely a disappointing issue here.

While some of the journal entries change depending on your answer choices, I found it disappointing that the journal entries don’t change (or at least don’t always) change depending on what type of character you chose to play as. The specific example I have in mind is that I chose to play as a Selkie, and through the course of the journey I of course traveled to Leuda, which is home of the Selkies. If you choose to play as a Selkie, you can participate in a minigame there and no one will steal from you. Additionally, since you see in various dungeons that Selkies have had a very rough time of it and for the longest time couldn’t put a home base anywhere, I had it in my head that my Selkie character would feel like she returned home, in a sense, even though she personally didn’t grow up in Leuda. I mean, this is the land of her people, this is where Selkie history is richest, this is the reward they got for all the suffering they experienced. (And sort of still do, since the other races tend to be prejudiced against them, and one Selkie in Leuda even says that he thinks everyone else wants Selkies to just disappear.) But despite all of this, the journal entry for Leuda states that the main character had their wallet stolen and never wants to go back. That sort of entry makes sense if you’re playing as one of the other three races, but it doesn’t fit Selkies at all and was pretty disappointing. That’s just one example, but I’m sure there were others, and it would have been nice if a bit more thought was put into play here.

All in all, I still think that Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles is a game worth playing. I really like the worldbuilding, as well as the characters, and I did have fun with it. With that said, though, I think that Square-Enix should have given this game a proper remake instead of a remaster, and should have made it a Switch exclusive (just as the original was a Gamecube exclusive) so that they could optimize it for the hardware, instead of being greedy and putting out one that didn’t play very well just so they could make cross-platform money. But despite those issues, if you want a unique action-RPG, I don’t think that FFCC’s remaster would be a bad choice to try out.

#2020 game reviews #final fantasy: crystal chronicles

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robinskalechip · 5 years

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home - chapter fourteen

robin buckley fan fic

a/n: please keep leaving me feedback and comments and questions and etc, they really mean a lot to me and i like getting to know all of your imput and feelings about the series

warnings: smoking, language, mentions of what happened in the previous chapter

masterlist

not my gif!

chapter fourteen - dont cry for me

sofia walked outside after calming down a bit, passing robin and everyone else in the room, not saying a single word. she sat on the hood of her car as she reached into her pocket and retrieved her pack of cigarettes to then take one out and put it in her mouth.

robin opened the door to see the girl in the midst of lighting the cigarette and taking in her first hit

robin felt a sense of anger but also sympathy due to her confusion “what was that”

“what was what?”

“that”

sofia looked up, her eyes red from crying “i don’t know what you’re talking about rob”

robin stood in between sofia’s legs as she inched closer “that last one was your biggest fear. why the hell was it me?”

sofia stood up, knowing she couldn’t handle this conversation right now

she avoided eye contact at all cost

robin chuckled sarcastically “and you won’t even look at me..great”

she started to walk towards the lake that was near the new byer’s household, robin following her

“sof”

no answer

“SOF”

nothing at all

“SOF WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM”

sofia turned around aggressively “YOU ROBIN”

she took a deep breathe and tried to hold back her tears as she spoke softly “it’s you”

she turned around and continued walking

robin,in confusion, kept following her “me? what the hell did i do”

sofia stopped to bend her head back as she looked up at the sky stars before responding “you exist”

robin’s face fell before sofia started to explain “i felt like i couldn’t breathe for three damn years and then-“

she was trying to collect her thoughts and breathe all at once

“then i met you”

her voice began to rise as she started to tear up

“and it was like i could breathe again. and actually enjoying it too. and it scares me robin.”

she got closer to robin, now crying harder

“YOU TERRIFY ME BECAUSE YOU CAN TAKE IT ALL AWAY AGAIN”

robin tried to cup her face but sofia leaned back to avoid it “you think you don’t terrify me? that’s what this is.”

her voice began to rise as she cried as well “we give each other that power and trust that the other person won’t use it. i never trusted anyone sofia. I NEVER LOVED SOMEONE THE WAY I LOVE YOU”

sofia was taken back by the fact that she said it, the l word

robin was now crying harder than before as she walked towards sofia and kissed her

sofia melted into the kiss, giving herself and her vulnerability to robin. she gave all of herself to her in that moment; every physical and emotional part of her.

“i want to ask you...things..but i don’t know if you want me to”

sofia kissed her once more, it was the most gentle kiss she had ever given another soul

she wiped robin’s tears and even her nose with the sleeve of her oversized sweater

“ask me things”

robin looked at the ground as she gathered her breathe and her courage

“what happened after you left?” she was honestly scared to know

sofia gulped as she walked towards the pier that hung over the lake, taking robin’s hand on her way

robin sat next to her

she liked how the lights looked on robin’s face, she just really liked robin’s face but the lights made her look like even more of an angel

she stared at her for another moment before she was snapped out of her daze by robin’s laughter “why are you staring at me”

sofia leaned forward, briefly resting her forehead on robin’s before lightly kissing her “tu sei arte you are art”

sofia pulled away to then lean back on the post that was directly behind her

“well firstly, i’m not going to act like i didnt hear that word back there. but i’m not going to say it back right now.” she took her hand “i want you to know that it’s coming from me..the REAL me when i say it. not when i’m emotionally exhausted and full of booze and tobacco. you deserve me fully and i’m willing to give it to you”

robin understood completely, “take as much time as you need” she smiled once more before pecking sofia’s hand “okay now tell me”

“i left three years ago because my parents found out i was kissing my best friend. of course my dad being so big in the church, he kicked me out and i went to new york. ya know more opportunities and i had heard so much about it. i lived in my car and washed dishes at a diner before lauren found me-“

robin was paying close attention to every word and every shift of emotion

“she owned this club in the popular queer part of the city and it paid way more than the diner so i started to work there for money...and did some other stuff but not too often.”

“other stuff?”

sofia looked at robin as she giggled

“i banged them for money rob”

robin leaned back to the position she was originally in “yeah that’s what i thought”

sofia chuckled, “it was only a few times. lauren never made me do it but she gave me an option if they made the offer. they were all frequent customers and they were hot rob. like next level hot. like obviously they’re below you babe but god they were like second to top shelf”

robin noticed it, babe

“anyways i did that for a while and one night i was leaving when some homophobic assholes jumped me when they saw me leave and that’s when i met natalie.”

“yeah what exactly did you do”

sofia sat up as she explained “okay so basically there’s this like community in new york and it’s all people like us rob” her face was lighting up “and every week there are these balls and we competed in them in different categories. like the face categories were all mine or the ones that were masc-fem were always the ones nat put me in because i always won.”

she felt herself rambling but she could tell robin didn’t mind

“they loved me and i loved them. and judges would score us and whoever got the highest score won and in exchange for competing, nat housed and basically raised five of us”

she smiled thinking back at the memories

“she got me a job at the times with her friend, she always wanted me to write like it was the end of the world and all i had left to do was tell everyone about the people i loved and the things that made me angry about the universe”

she began to tear up slightly but smiled through it

“daniel was my favorite, always. but he got the virus that was taking out practically everyone we knew”

“no one is trying to help cure it?”

sofia chuckled at how naive she sounded “honey they want us dead”

she took out another cigarette and lit it “about six months later nat got stabbed by some dude on her way home. she died right in front of me.” she took a pause “that was my breaking point”

robin began to cry as sofia pushed back a piece of her hair and lifted her chin to raise and look at her. she brushed the tear from her lover’s cheek “dont cry for me il mio amore my love”

“i started using after that. i drank a lot more, smoked a lot more, did some other drugs here and there but coke was always my go to”

“why did you do that”

sofia turned to her “it made me feel...nothing and everything all at once but only the good bits

and that’s all i wanted at that point”

sofia grabbed robin’s hand as she said the next bit “i got a call from my cousin, aka the only person from my family i still talk to, and he told me ma was sick so i came back”

she smiled again, but this time it was her bright™️ smile. she moved closer to robin as she spoke “and i met this smart funny beautifully intoxicating girl who likes sad movies and vanilla milkshakes and makes me feel like i’m going crazy every time i’m around her”

she kissed her passionately as she moved her hand to cup her cheek, robin doing the same

robin pulled back, she brushed her fingertip over sofia’s lips and leaning her forehead against the other girl’s “as much as you scare me, you always make me feel so calm...so safe”

“i got your back rob, through everything”

next chapter

#robin stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #robin #robin fanfiction #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin x reader #robin x y/n #robin x you #robin buckley #maya hawke

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cultho · 5 years

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Dororo Epilogue/Post-ending Standalone episode

*WARNING: SLIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD!!*

So I watched the ending and I had a lot of feelings about it, and I came up with a few ideas for a standalone post-episode to explore some concepts I would like to see from the show. Fyi, the pronouns I use for Dororo vary by situation, with a preference for he/him (my headcanon is Dororo is pretty genderfluid!).

About a year after Hyakkimaru went to find himself, aka end of the series (but before the timeskip where Dororo’s hair is long), the episode opens with opens with Hyakkimaru, feeling more at peace with himself, returning to the village Dororo was developing via dad's Harry Potter level of inheritance.

Dororo, who now basically rules this village despite being a literal 9 year old, hears word from his fellow villagers that a wandering stranger with a sword was spotted helping one of the rice farmers because their horse got caught in a ditch (or anything else of that nature). Of course, Dororo immediately comes running, and barrels straight into Hyakkimaru for the sibling reunion hug we deserve.

Then Dororo punches Hyakki on the arm and gives him a hard time for leaving for a whole year without even a ‘goodbye,’ asks 'So what made you decide to come back after a whole year, huh, punk?’

In response, Hyakki pulls out a small, worn, pouch and Dororo says 'woah - Mio’s rice seeds? I thought you would’ve planted them by now already.’

With a little smile, Hyakki goes 'I thought about doing that, but then I remembered you were close with her too, so you have as much of a right to these seeds… so I decided to wait until we could plant them together.’

The rest follows as one expects it to - Dororo teases him for becoming an even bigger softie, and they set off back to the village to grab some farm tools who Hyakki the place, as the camera pans up until the brilliant blue sky fills the frame. That chapter of their lives ends the same way it began, with Hyakkimaru and Dororo - the latter chatting up a storm while the former quietly appreciates - side by side, wandering where they must.

Then the camera pans back down, and where before there was bare paddy, the field is now golden and thriving (same as it was in the show's ending). After a half decade timeskip, Dororo is 15-16 to Hyakki’s 21-22, and the rest of the episode follows them dealing with a demon terrorizing their village, who turns out to be Daigo’s butthurt evil spirit. I don’t have a specific plot, but here are concepts that I’d love to see explored.

First, Grown up badass Dororo running her town, being like her own Alexander Hamilton, except not only does this Alexander Hamilton know finances, how to run a sovereign state, how to outsmart any opponent, rouse even the most downtrodden souls to action with just a few words, she also kicks major butt from training with her big bro. Shoutout to that one post that inspired the idea that her dad's Big Boy genes kicked in during puberty so she’s actually like... as tall as Hyakki. Maybe even an inch taller. She says to anyone who asks that her bro can 'die mad about it’ but they both know that he’s just happy she grew up big and strong.

She totally runs the town and everyone adores/massively respects her; her city takes in the refugees, the poor, the women and children, the diseased, etc, because, in her words, screw samurai and screw their wars. They absorbed Daigo’a old land after offering food, shelter, and jobs to the survivors, thus their town became a pretty respectably sized settlement.

Now, the key to all this - since they don't want to rely on samurai for their power - is the money, right? So Dororo’s power is her knowledge of the treasures secret location (and all the other badass things about her, but I digress). Imagine at some point a small gang of newer villaghers got the bright idea to try and stalk her during one of her mysterious night trips out (she calls them a way to satisfy her wanderlust, but they’re a cover for her sailing to the treasure's location to grab some cash), and they only get as far as spying her enter the docks before their plan goes to heck when they get accosted by Dororo's more loyal villagers who saw them sneaking. ‘Oh sh*t,’ they’re thinking, Dororo sauntering over to them, ‘Oh sh*t, shes got a big sword, oh man oh sh*t this is the end for me - '

But Dororo’s been there before, at the end of her rope and desperate for any edge to survive, she understands how these guys think, and if there’s one thing she’s stubborn to death about it’s that she does NOT run her town like the samurai. Instead, she talks them out of their misdoing and helps them find an honest living, Tales of Ba Sing Se Uncle Iroh style, (except with more volume and verbal threats).

Another concept with Dororo is when Dororo dresses to look like a guy when he and Hyakki take a couple horses and venture into a nearby city (for whatever plot reason), similar to how he did when he was a lot younger.

It’s not fully a secret, but only the older residents of her city know about Dororo’s 'crossdressing' habit, and are accepting of it.

Dororo mentions that while he’s in no way ashamed of presenting female, it often feels more freeing to present male, especially when they're out adventuring - less questions and stares from strangers, etc. Dororo also just likes presenting as male! This way, he identifies with both genders at different times. (It goes without saying Hyakki does his best to use the right pronouns, he never had a strict concept of gender - re: Jukai is the best mom, so it never struck him as odd.)

As for the actual villain of the episode, when she first hears of the Jerk Dad Demon attacking the farms on the outskirts of the village, she only thinks ‘it's just another demon, time to gather the crew and kill this thing-’

It doesn’t go so easily, as the demon’s exceptional strength proves to draw out the confrontation, and it even ends up escaping the first time.

The first to figure it out was Hyakki - he’s most familiar with Daigo’s wrath and the foul creature reeks of the old man. However, everything happened so fast and he sort of… neglected to inform Dororo. When she does find out, they have a short confrontation about it in classic Bickering Siblings Style. It’s understandable that she’s slightly miffed the demonic incarnation of his own awful dad, yes that one, is who they’re fighting and he didn’t bother letting her know.

Hyakki, who, even after a decade of having his voice back, isn't that great at communication/vocalizing his more complex thoughts and working through conflicts with words and thus often comes off as awkward or silently stoic: 'You were busy... and I thought you figured by yourself already?’

Things escalate when the other villagers overhear, and they almost start a riot; angry shouts accusing him of being the reason the demon attacks their settlement from the all the tired men and women, haggard from fending off attacks of not only the demon but also rival bandits and clans who want to take advantage of the city’s time of hardship. Of course, Dororo gets everyone back in lineright before the crowd got to deciding to sacrifice Hyakkimaru, reminding them to focus on the real enemy instead of turning on eachother - but the situation was incredibly bleak. With everyone on edge partially, it was easy to use Hyakki as a scapegoat due to his pacifist tendencies and his stoic nature coming across as almost cowardice.

He taught Dororo how to fight and that's pretty much all the fighting he's done since he came back to plant Mio’s rice, he’s reluctant to pick up the blade again. But the moment a demon shows up he runs off on his own, risking life and limb to confront it head on. Combined with his character’s less than stellar communication skills, it frustrates Dororo in the 'he leaves for a year and doesnt even text me when he's going’ kinda way’ - she's frustrated when he continually refuses to understand that they're family, and at the end of they day theyre kind of all the other has left. So he needs to get it together better and tell her when he’s about to go off and do reckless nonsense. His behavior also presents an interesting dichotomy as Hyakki also struggles with trying to be emotionally detached (lose worldly desires, etc.) and pacifist in the face of attacks from both demon and humans, so he needs to reconcile fighting with the others against attacking clans and risking a redescent into the demon like madness of his teenage years or standing by non violent means of supporting his comrades while facing expectations that he should do more. He wants to atone for his past sins badly and help those who are still living best he can - but how?

(And also make friends other than literally just Dororo.)

Dororo's arc is about her struggles to do the right thing as a leader - it is a lot, to run a whole city. Recent events have caused more deaths amidst her city than ever before, and moral questions about what to do with captured enemy survivors feed doubt into her mind if one day she’ll turn out as bad as the samurai, and how to continue on after having led people in battles that resulted in their deaths.

P.s. I also entertained the idea of Hyakki’s journey to find himself taking much longer, and so the first time Dororo sees him again ever since he got his eyes back is when she's 20, there's rain pouring from the dark sky as her men are carrying lamps around, accounting for the dead and defeated in a latest skirmish with a small rival band that was trying to access her city the non-peaceful way.

At first her men bring her hyakkimaru, thinking he was with the enemy (he happened to be in the wrong place, wrong time. He simply heard of a group heading to a big place that sounded an awful lot like somewhere he would find Dororo - and followed them).

And from the business end of her sword he's on his knees looking up when she goes 'nah. I know him. This bastard's got hell to answer for, but he's not our enemy.’

Events are more or less the same from there, but filled with way more tension and drama here since Hyakki basically dropped off the face of the earth for 10 ish years and Do’s mad about that because, again, he didn't even say 'bye'. So much has changed, but what hasn't changed is Dororo’s anikki's inability to grasp that if one day he went off without telling her and then died, she would have literally no idea where/when/how that was, she would never know if he was alive or dead, and the idea of living in that limbo would terrify anyone. The story being about them learning to come together again, only at the end do they plant Mio’s rice field together.

I ended up trying to flesh the first idea out more because Do & Hyakki’s relationship is all about the things that don't need to be said; that these two will always be there for the other without needing to be asked. The backbone of their relationship was built up as one that didn’t need explicit affirmation because it was already so ingrained to their characters it would be a disservice to them and a waste of time to contrive an entire plot trying to create unnecessary drama between them.

But then again... drama = satisfying character growth, so perhaps it could go either way! Let me know what you think!

Thank you for reading all this way :) I also posted second part to this of other thoughts I had while pondering why I felt the need to write a standalone epilogue.

Bonus: these gems I had in the rough draft that unfortunately had to get cut:

“But it’s harder to kill bc jerk dad demon is a jerk”

“Dororo's like 'u mean to tell me ur punk bitch biological male progenitor's demonized soul is attacking our fields??? “

“they take down the big bad dad dude daigo”

“Dororo: - pshffyeahh, ur pissy pissfaced pissbaby dad”

#dororo #fandom #my thoughts #anime #hyakkimaru #tahomaru #daigo #dororo to hyakkimaru #essay #disability #my writing

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