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erenaeoth · 4 months

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Hiii! I'm here to read your ramble about TK8's story. Personally I've tried to keep my expectations as low as possible. But I still ended up disappointed. So what's your take? Gimme the good, the bad, and the missed opportunities.

Tekken 8 Story Thoughts

hello hello hello. Tekken 8 spoilers ahead, I'll put them under the cut.

First off, I have to say I'm having a really good time. I enjoyed playing through story mode, I enjoyed the character episodes. I'm loving customising characters, I'm looking forward to my fight stick arriving and learning some cool new combos and playing with mates.

Everything feels really nice, looks very cool (aside from some giant shoulders and oddly proportioned necks), and I adore little touches like Jin and Hwoarang getting to wear each other's clothes.

Story mode.

Well, what can I say.

It's as I feared, really. Honestly, all I can say is that there's a deep lack of appreciation for the skill of writing in the video game world. One day, perhaps Tekken will hire people who care about stories, about plot, about character development and character presentation. There is no conflict in the Tekken 8 story. I know this sounds weird given that 90% of it is Jin and Kazuya punching each other, but here's an example of what I mean:

Leo meets their father for the first time in nearly 15 years. It happens off screen.

Lars goes from wanting to kill Jin, to forgiving him. It happens off screen.

Kazuya goes from having life ambition 'kill Heihachi' to developing a philosophy that advocates the enslavement of the world to his will. It happens off screen.

Hwoarang travels back from the Middle East with one eye; Claudio decides to stop being conniving and instead genuinely help Xiao; Lee builds airships and perfects battlesuits; the UN decides to work with Yggdrasil despite Lars gunning down their troops in TK7. All of this happens off screen.

And still Kazuya and Jin do not manage to have a single conversation. The closest we get is in chapter one, where Kazuya accuses Jin of being just like him. Jin fears, rightly, later, that Kazuya is right, but he's essentially told that if he chooses to be nicer, then no they're not the same. There's no consequences for his actions as head of the Zaibatsu, no real conflict between Jin and any of the people he's hurt, not even Alisa, who sits down for a heart to heart with him and never brings up the way he forced her to hurt Lars and spoke of her as merely a tool and not a person. There is conflict in this story but no Conflict. No drama. No points of difficulty that require meaningful resolution.

And instead we have trite versions of a story that boil down Jin's conundrum to one of acceptance of a force that has destroyed his life, literally torn apart his friends, eaten people, and been a source of torture to him. He's told 'just accept it's a part of you!' as if this is about a surface level appearance, rather than a violence that has destroyed everything he loves, and that he can see the consequences of in Kazuya. I think Devil Jin was treated poorly and tritely in this story, and that if one wants a 'redemption' acceptance for this devil power, it has to come with interrogation and recognition of the way it has hurt Jin and those around him. It canonically hospitalised Hwoarang, and there's no awareness of this in the story.

That said, I really, truly loved this line from Jin to his mother's apparition.

It moved me emotionally in a way that no other video game cutscene has, and for all its misdoings, I'm so pleased this was included in Tekken 8. This is a deeply Jin line to me, written by someone who understands him. Jin's suicidal tendencies have been a recurring theme ever since Devil first awoke, and post-TK6 this is exacerbated further. There's no one on earth who hates Jin more than Jin, and him needing the desire to live as an important part of his strength against Kazuya, is really well done. I wish we could have seen more from Jin conencting with his uncles, Xiao, and Hwoarang to achieve this state of mind, but I commend the sentiment anyway.

When he asked his mother and she granted him the ability to help him, I thought for sure this was going to be about purification. In a way I suppose it was, but I was very tired and unimpressed by Angel Jin. From the overdesign to yet another emphasis on pure violence to defeat Kazuya, I was just completely uninterested. This uninterest was momentarily suspended when they lost their Devil powers, something I thought was brave and interesting of them to do. Somehow this changed absolutely nothing though, and Jin and Kaz don't even pause for a conversation really before they go on.

I do think it's in character for Kazuya to consider his Devil a tool to use for an end, but I think that's much more something he'd say than actually feel. He's had Devil's power with him since he was five years old, and he's relied on it time and again to save him, I think internally he'd be terrified of losing it. Devil is all that's stood between Kazuya and Heihachi for all his life. There's some trite remark about Devil Jin trying to 'protect Jin'. This is only true in so far as DJ awoke when Heihachi gunned Jin down. Devil Kazuya, however, has kept Kazuya alive all his life, and given him the strength to survive in a world where he's constantly been at Heihachi's mercy. Kazuya's desire to live is absolutely what fuelled him all his life, and his need for power comes out of that survival. His infatuation with power grows beyond this, and after Heihachi's death, we see how warped and out of control this grows, but I feel there are deep inconsistencies in the Tekken 8 story because no one ever sat down to really think about Kazuya's relationship with his Devil, and what that might mean for what they were spinning for Jin.

That said, someone was drinking the good stuff when they wrote this:

This is Kazuya's only good line in Tekken 8, in my humble opinion. It's the one moment where they let him have a tiny bit of actual characterisation. They hint at tying his motivations back into experiences linked to fear and lack of control. It's such a shame, because they acheived this much better in Tekken 7, where they drew clear parallels between the childhood trauma Kazuya faced and his final fight against Heihachi. And yet they leave his motivations again in obscurity in this game, leaving the majority of people, including Jin, none the wiser for why he is doing this other than to be evil for evil's sake.

Why does Jin never ask him about Jun? Or mention that he's been seeing his mother? Why does he not talk about purification linked to being a Kazama? Why has he got so much time for thinking about his own difficulties, but never seeks to ask about Kazuya's? One of the reasons I love Kazuya as a character is because he revels in his own villainhood, and will never volunteer a justification for his actions in the way Heihachi or Jin would. He would rather be seen as cruel than as weak. And it's weakness to him to admit or even evaluate within himself why it is that he needs to be all powerful. But that means that, narratively, he needs a foil to play across from him, and ask the questions that will otherwise never be raised. He needs someone like Jin, or Jun, or Lee, who knows him or has the interest in understanding him, to force him to speak about his past.

There's so much missing from this game, I don't really know where to start. I was discussing this with friends, and we feel like someone on the team had some vision, and was trying to do something interesting, but they were largely shot down at every turn by whoever watched Blood Rebellion and wanted that but 2 hours longer and no cute refridgerator scene.

I can't believe I played all of Tekken 8 and I still don't know if Jun is alive, or why Jin isn't being held accountable for his actions, or why Jin and Kazuya even have any beef. Tekken 7 left us with so many questions and Tekken 8 answers basically none of them. At least they managed to tie more of the cast into this game? But then why did everyone just forget about Zafina and Claudio when they collapsed? Don't they care? Where did Hwoarang go? He got on a bike in that fight then never had a battlefield fight or appeared in front of the Sanctum at Yakushima. Why don't Victor or Raven care about Lars defying them last game? Is Raven salty that Jin blew up a helicopter with him (maybe) and all his men in it? Does Jin hear Azazel return to life? Is he affected by it? That MF was talking in his head for months. If Kazuya could have defeated Azazel so easily, why did he just waltz off in TK6?

I do like the idea that the 'two evil stars colliding' as the end of Azazel being Jin and Kazuya destroying each others devils, forshadowed in TK6 and brought to conclusion here, but all the meaning and interest in this is destroyed by whatever they're trying to do with Reina. I cannot expressed how frustrated I am with her as a character. I suppose perhaps she's from the Devil-Human Integration period of research Heihachi undertook, though my understanding was that he never retrieved Devil cells that were needed for the research, or he would have injected himself with Devil. Perhaps Reina was part of a programme that continued on where Steve and the supersoldier programme were left off. I don't know. I just know that it takes a way a lot of impact that could have meant exploring a devil-free Tekken game in future.

One thing I do Not want to see, is Tekken 9 waltzing in with Kazuya suddenly being a good guy, teaming up with Jin and fighting Reina. Not without serious weight and reflection on his actions, or discussing the corrupting influence of Devil over him. And I've lost a lot of faith in Tekken really understanding their characters or story-writing enough to do this.

I didn't even get on to character episodes, but I think I've rambled enough for one day! Thank you for the asks.

#tekken 8 #tekken 8 spoilers #tekken #asks #tekken thoughts

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burningvelvet · 8 months

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More thoughts about The Tenant of Wildfell Hall after finishing it…

1 good movie adaptation WHEN?

2 the themes of universalism and the idea that everyone can change if they want it bad enough and nothing is permanent and we have the ability to make choices and self-destruction has social repercussions bc it affects the ppl around you… yeah, my heart is full!

3 helen successfully microdosing her own child with poison to give him a pavlovian response to alcohol so he wouldn’t end up as an alcoholic like his father and grandfather because she intuitively knew he had a genetic predisposition to addiction despite having no modern knowledge of science or psychology. excellent.

4 the shit helen goes through in this novel is unreal. our girl is basically trapped in a frat-house — complete with the booze, drugs, laughter, fraternizing, sportsmanship, anti-intellectualism, infidelity, and rape culture.

5 as a sad aficionado of the romantic era & byronic studies i can 100% without a doubt say that not only is arthur based on some popular victorian conceptions of lord and lady byron and their marriage, but the brontës must have been familiar with biographical writing on byron’s life! i’ve found several academic texts to support this and it’s 100% true.

6 also, as a person who grew up with relatives who suffered from severe substance abuse and mental illness, i’m pretty confident in saying that the brontë sisters must have had some inside knowledge to spark their sustained interest in writing about these subjects. there are specific details and feelings pertaining to these topics which are documented with so much acuity it must have been personal to them. it seems a lot of academics theorize this as well — however, i still don’t know enough about the brontë family biography to form my own opinions on this topic yet!

7 helen is such a progressive mother (considering her circumstances and level of education, and the non-harmful drugging aside which is questionable today but within the narrative understandable) and her theories on education and parenthood are so advanced.

8 i think arthur’s friends (especially mr. hargrave and annabella) are as bad as he is, considering the fact that they enable him and they could easily use their influence to try and sway him considering but they choose not to — only partly because he’s the “leader of the pack,” but partly because they also have zero respect for helen and enjoy openly bullying and abusing her in her own household

9 big shoutout to the servants in this novel who are the real heroes. all throughout the novel (especially starting from Gilbert’s POV considering he and his family are a little poorer off than those of the Huntingdon circle) we see the lower-classes and smaller owners gradually triumphing against the upper-classes, gentry, and larger land owners. i love the line about rachel having to sell helen’s fine gowns for cheaper ones, and how helen notices that rachel still looks decent while dressed like a more common woman.

10 the very ending with everyone’s resolutions was a bit choppy and rushed but i don’t mind because everything went how i wanted it to go lol. but the ending for arthur/helen — the fact that he never repented, but helen still believes in universal salvation nonetheless, and still took care of him even though she didn’t have to, after everyone else abandoned him — the person he treated the worst still cared for him when no one else did — she fulfilled all her marital vows and he fulfilled none of his — his fear of death — her letter of december 5th, her holding his hand until the very end — his last words, “pray for me!” don’t leave me!” — all the unspoken words on her part, her feelings of helplessness, her telling him that she cannot save him, his crying and cursing the world — her fainting from exhaustion — him continuing to act like a brat on his death bed — her taking control, her cleverness with the contract — her lack of closure — aahhhh! just so heart wrenching and frustrating and angsty yet also cathartic and realistic.

#the tenant of wildfell hall #english literature #literature #book thoughts #book opinions #anne bronte

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bookishjules · 8 months

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I can only imagine how sizzy will be like as parents any thoughts on that?

so, so many thoughts.

i am so adamant that simon and isabelle would be some of the best parents. the way they both show their love in their actions, and how together they'd have the protective and self-sacrificing nature of parenting down pat.. the way they have experience with kids from years of babysitting their nephews, and for izzy.. from being there as max grew up.. the way they would both harbor just enough trepidation when approaching parenthood that it would make them just that much better at being parents, if that makes sense..

the way i see it, izzy didn't have the best examples for parents. they love(d) her, yes. but they also weren't all that good at being the adults, and their problems always seemed to come before those of their children. she took on the strength of her parents, but i think as much as izzy had to learn that romantic love isn't necessarily a weakness, she'd have to do similarly with parenthood. because god this child in her arms could break down every brick of the fortress she's built around herself. there's just such an innate and all-consuming love there. and it will obviously scare her, but by the time she and simon have kids, she's learned that there is strength in giving your entire heart up, too. she's learned that the barriers her parents may have put around their love are exactly what she doesn't want to pass on, even though it scares her.

meanwhile, simon.. simon knows exactly what it feels like for unconditional love to be tested and come up wanting. and i believe he will fight tooth and nail to never have his kids feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable at home. i do think that simon would have a decent amount of doubt during izzy's first pregnancy and the early months of that child's life, though, due to the early loss of his own dad. on the one hand, you have the lack of a father to refer back to, both in memory and as a means of advice--thankfully, luke exists, and has existed as a father in simon's life for a long, long time. but on the other hand, simon is all too aware of what it feels like to lose a father too soon, and with the heightened mortality rate among shadowhunters... instead of letting that fear of being forced to leave his child(ren) behind control him, though, he decides to just be that much more intentional with the time he is given with them.

this idea of intentionality is absolutely something izzy would present to simon, as it's one of her greatest regrets when thinking back to max's childhood, despite her being a child all that time as well. it was was a resolution that would have a concluded a conversation i think she had with herself years before she and simon even got married, as she considered whether or not she wanted kids at all. i think she would have gone through something of a "what's the point?" phase before that she doesn't want simon to endure after all he himself had gone through.

and so they're intentional. they have family reading time every night they are able to. simon dm's kids dnd games. they eat meals together. they have game nights and movie nights. izzy sings to them when they cry at night, like her mother used to. they host sleepovers with the cousins. izzy lets them try on her heels for fashion shows. they encourage their kids' interests outside of shadowhunting; this one likes to sing and that one's learning to sew. they take them trick-or-treating in the best nerdy constumes. they don't shelter them from the world, but rather show them the lives and the people they'll be protecting one day. i love you's are abundant, as are hugs and kisses and tickles and teasing.

in my mind their household is the perfect mix of cool and warm. cool like adamas and the truth and the spring. and warm like fire and dark eyes and fresh baked cookies. and maybe it smells like cookies too, like whatever secret recipe they finally got right and refuse to stray from bc they just know they'll mess it up.

#i have clearly thought about this A LOT #sizzy #tsc #sizzy hc #anon <3 #asks #simon lewis #isabelle lightwood #tmi

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elliemarchetti · 8 months

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The Snake and the Wolf

Chapter 4 - Dancing

The ending is rushed, I did little to no proofreading but I have to go to work in like ten minutes so here's the last chapter of this story for @erisweek2023. See you tomorrow (which already is in Italy but shh) for the first chapter of my modern AU.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Words: 1.802

He transmuted as soon as he held her in his arms, heading for the village he protected from his father’s wickedness and Amarantha’s cruelty for all these years. The cluster of houses greeted them with its lights and colours, welcoming in the way only secluded places can be. It was almost dinner time, and a riot of appetizing aromas came out of the open windows, but Eris wouldn’t have been able to ingest even a spoonful of soup, his stomach twisted with terror. The mere possibility that Nesta might not wake up gnawed relentlessly at his heart, so he lifted her legs up in one fluid motion, resolute in wanting to carry her quickly to the modest residence he purchased at nearly double its value after Jesminda’s death. At first, no one in the village trusted him, and on the rare occasions he left the domestic walls, he had been regarded with suspicion and a good dose of resentment. Not that he blamed them, after the misery his father reduced them to. Ironically, he started to make friends only thanks to his hounds, the first people who smiled at him a handful of children dressed in rags who wanted to pet them. They were all adults now, two of them dead because of Cassian and Azriel, their loyalty and gratitude towards him yet another condemnation to which all those he loved were subject.

“I’m sorry...” he murmured to Nesta as he laid her down on the bed, unsure as to why he was apologizing. Perhaps he felt guilty for leaving her in the Night Court for so long, despite being aware of the injustices she was facing, or perhaps he wanted to make amends for having kept the secret about their connection to himself, even though he was still convinced he was in the right. After all, Rhysand and his friends hadn’t given her enough time to adjust to her new condition, hadn’t supported her after the war, after she’d seen her father die, and these were the consequences, so he could hardly imagine what reaction she could’ve had if she’d discovered she had a Mate too. No, Eris wanted to go slow, allow her to heal and make her own decisions, even if he didn’t like them. A part of him would’ve died forever if he had to watch her go away, thank him for his generosity but still turn her back on him to return to the human lands, or leave for the Continent, but he would’ve accepted it, because there was no point in trying to control a spirit like hers. Of course he still wanted to be the reason why she rediscovered her passions and how beautiful life could be, even if the Autumn Court as it was at the moment could be a little dangerous to explore. If the other High Lords had trusted him more, perhaps he could’ve taken her on a visit elsewhere, where she could’ve danced in halls decorated for the holidays and ate exotic delicacies, but for now he could offer only boring simplicity, although he had every intention to gift her even the Moon, if she asked.

“Wet her lips,” a voice suggested from the doorframe, making him jump in surprise. It was rare to see a Fae old enough to have wrinkles and greying hair, but in that very village lived one of them, a somewhat nosy wise female who had taught him to cook and take care of himself when there were no servants around.

“Will she recover?” he asked, hating the fragility in his tone, the fear showing in his gaze and the agitation making his hands tremble.

“Only if you take care of her and allow us to do so as well,” she replied, with a solemnity that made him wonder if she weren’t a Seer, and hadn’t glimpsed something in the pages of a future he hoped would be long and prosperous. It took a couple of days before Nesta managed to sit up again without any help, and almost a month before she rudely chased him away.

“I’m not dying, and I only got up to get an apple,” she blurted out angrily when he found her in the kitchen and ordered back to bed. When she’d regained consciousness and realized what happened, she was perplexed by his intervention, and although he explained with his usual detachment that it was his dog who’d found her and he had merely exploited an opportunity that could play in his advantage, she hadn’t believed him, going damn close to discovering the truth.

“She says you’re not as bad as they describe you,” the old woman told him one day, but he knew she’d only did it to mess with him, not because she would’ve reported the content of their conversations. Almost all the villagers brought food, clothes, books and every sort of pastime they had, but the thing Nesta seemed to prefer were his hounds. In no time she’d memorized almost all the names and after about ten days she already distinguished one dog from another, although her favourite was Dysomnia, to which Eris had to gave up ownership rights when he saw her curled up at his guest’s side, with Nesta reading her a bedtime story.

“It took me decades to train them and you’re undoing it all in less than a month,” he’d told her, and Nesta did nothing but smirk, making his knees feel like jelly. In her presence, he was an insecure and inexperienced schoolboy, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what he witnessed on Samhain night. As usual, he’d celebrated the festivities at the Forest House, but before anyone could approach him, when his father and brothers’ attention were on the countless females waiting to be chosen, he’d transmuted to the village, suppressing all carnal desires and jealousy, but still determined to make sure no one tried to get close to his Mate. He’d expected to find her home, perhaps annoyed by the noise, instead he’d seen her silhouette stand out in front of the bonfire, her arms raised above her head as she moved sinuously with the only other young female present. Eris knew that dance: two steps forward and one step back, then three forward again until the couples were eye to eye. Loose and harmonious, the girls twirled in frenetic pirouettes, their voluminous skirts rising to their knees like bluebells shaken by the spring wind.

“Enjoying the show?” she asked once she’d reached him, leaving the General speechless in front of such disarming beauty. Some locks escaped her usual, rigorous hairstyle, falling to the sides of her angular face like a frame of burnished gold, and her usually icy eyes shone with ecstasy, her cheeks, rosy and sweaty, fuller since the day he’d saved her.

“Incredibly,” he confirmed, his mouth strangely dry.

“I thought it was customary for a gentleman to ask an unaccompanied lady to dance,” she teased him, when the musicians resumed their playing. The instruments were out of tune, and the players certainly lacked the technical skills to perform that specific song, but Eris would’ve danced even without music if it allowed him to held her in his arms again. He took her hand with a half smile, placing the other on her slim waist, and she lifted her chin, looking straight into his eyes just as the first drumbeat rang out, her breaths one with the music. He accompanied her, his body at once tense and relaxed as his Mate bent and took shape with the rhythm. It was as if the music burned inside Nesta, as if it filled her veins and flowed there instead of blood. There wasn’t enough space in the small square for the pirouettes she should’ve performed, but Eris took his hand off her back anyway, and she managed to follow the series of notes with ease, returning her gaze to him at the exact moment in which the music returned to the central melody. Smugness wasn’t enough to describe what he felt as she swirled like a nocturnal storm, wild and indomitable to the point of making him drunk with a single smile. He wasn’t sure he was able to hold back the wild desire he felt for her much longer.

“You never told me you loved dancing so much,” he murmured to her, on the last notes of the song.

“It’s been a long time since I last did it,” she admitted, letting herself be led away from the festivities, into a dark alley that reduced everything else beside them to a distant buzz.

“It didn’t seem like it,” he replied, leaning his back against the damp wall. In another life, she would’ve been in his place, and he would’ve had a firm grip on her thighs.

“There are things that are hard to forget,” she went on, moving so close to him that Eris felt his heavy breathing on his exposed chest. He wanted to touch her like he’d never wanted anything in his life, wanted to feel her heartbeat, see what was inside, make sure she was aware of what she was doing.

“We should go home,” he finally suggested, making the animal inside him hiss with disappointment, although he was sure it was the right thing to do. A little over a month had passed, she could neither be ready for whatever she was looking for from him, nor she loved him as he already loved her. It was strange to say, even to himself, for Eris had never been in love. Infatuated, maybe, when he was still too young to understand he had to put a certain distance between himself and his lovers, but with Nesta it was different, regardless of the Mating bond. She saw beyond his mask, she knew his weaknesses and not for an instant she used them against him. Together they discussed politics, laughed and faced the ghosts of their past, without ever being intrusive, without ever feeling the need to distance themselves from each other.

“Or we could stay here,” she suggested, brushing his fingers with hers.

“Your every wish is an order,” he tried to joke, but when she put her other hand on his chest, sliding up to his neck, he couldn’t resist any longer. He stood trebling like a tree struck to breaking point, but now his lips were on hers, soft and full and hungry. In the back of his mind he realized he took her face in his hands and pushed her into the barn, their bodies pressed together, her nails leaving mark on the pale skin of his back. She moaned, cursed and murmured his name between kisses, a completely new music to which Eris would’ve danced all night long, if she asked him to.

#erisweek2023 #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #neris #i have nothing left to say people #just that i'm sorry this turned so neris centred #i wanted to post two chapters per day #and if i followed the schedule i originally planned i would've been able to do so #but work is a bitch and i had to condensate a seven chapter story in this #i'm sorry and i swear you're going to have something a little more gotesque in the future

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

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October 25th

Gravestone

This one is for @laurfilijames and @fandomfaeryreads.

I'd also tag @legolasbadass and @lathalea for the tiny world-building, @middleearthpixie and @fizzyxcustard for the dwarves and...anyone else who enjoys a bit of dwarven sadness.

@lordoftherazzles look, I wrote kiddies!

Words: 552

Warnings: Sadness

Kíli was not frightened; he was convinced that – if only he repeated these words often enough to himself and to his brother – it would soon be true.

It was not at all due to him being a “baby” that the hair at the back of his neck and creeping down hesitantly along his soft cheeks stood on end; no, even the hardiest, strongest, and bravest warriors would certainly have felt a little queasy in the endless silence of the forsaken patch of earth they were standing on.

Everything about this felt wrong, but he didn’t dare bring up that point to Fíli for fear that it might offend or hurt the slightly taller boy who held his little golden head up proudly.

“Come along,” Fíli hissed, “you’re such a slow-poke.”

As fast as his stumpy legs could carry him, Kí hastened after the quickly retreating figure – swallowed by ominous mists – and set his jaw stubbornly.

As they reached the point of their destination, Kíli pulled back his pudgy hand – already half-stretched out to grab his brother’s – at the last moment and stuffed it into a candy-filled pocket resolutely.

A dreadful sense of absence washed over the two huddled figures, hardly pebbles anymore but not grown dwarrows yet either, as they stepped closer to each other instinctively.

Throughout their lives, they had been instructed and trained in the unique skill of their people in sensing living stone and trusting their instincts to be guided by the veins of minerals and ore running like warm blood through its unyielding flesh.

The slabs in front of them were dead though, as dead as the brave warriors supposedly resting beneath them, and they shivered as no pulsating echo caressed their senses, no matter how much they quested and focused.

“Did you know that the elves just go up in a burst of flames or fall to dust?” Kíli asked in an unsteady voice; he simply wanted to fill that awful stillness that started weighing on him like a physical boulder sitting at the nape of his neck, pushing him down mercilessly.

“Nonsense,” Fíli snapped but his own words were wavering in the ambient mist.

They had come, a wreath of dry boughs at the ready, to pay their respects to the father they had lost through no fault of theirs; unlike all the other things that they had misplaced or destroyed by accident and careless handling over the years, this brave dwarf had just vanished despite their efforts to be on their best behaviour.

“Good evening, da,” Kíli whispered and curled up on the cold stone to infuse it with some of his own living warmth, “we miss you so. Ma still cries when she thinks that we’re asleep and Uncle Thorin looks away every time you are brought up.”

For a while, they babbled on like that, but – no matter how impeccable their princely behaviour and how vivacious their speech – the stone bearing their father’s name stayed devoid of any sign of life.

It was a hard but necessary lesson to learn that not all that was lost could be found again, and they vowed to be more zealous in their study of the famed stone-sense so that they may never find themselves – helpless and desolate – in the face of dumb, silent rock ever again.

@fellowshipofthefics here's another one :D

I am sorry if this one was a bit heavy...

Lots of love

-> Masterlist

#fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #fotfics October challenge #fotfics fictober #ficlet run #1 scene per day #a different pairing every day #hobbit #Fíli #Kíli #Fíli & Kíli #stone sense #gravestone #sadness #family #grief

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sheev66 · 1 year

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Denji, The Door and The Dream

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about Denji’s journey in part 1 of Chainsaw Man, especially the symbolic meaning of the door. Makima spells out the literal secret that was hidden, but I feel that it goes deeper than just the death of Denji’s father. In Fire Punch, one of Fujimoto’s other works, the question of how the main protagonist can continue to live despite all he goes through is the central stake of the narrative. In Chainsaw Man, Denji is effectively immortal. As such, his central conflict is also how he can continue to live in the symbolic dimension, as his own person with his own dreams. Throughout the manga, Denji has a new life constructed for him, watches it be obliterated, then reforges himself anew. At the most fundamental level, this arc is propelled first by the opening of the door, and the nature of Deni's dreams.

Denji's dreams of simple comforts and security are quickly achieved when he's taken in by Makima to work with Public Safety. At a very early stage however, Denji finds the fulfillment waning and sets up a new dream to work towards; reaching second base.

Just as before though, the experience of reaching his goal leaves a feeling of emptiness in it's wake.

In response, Makima just sets out a new goal for Denji. An interrogation of what true fulfillment may mean for Denji is deferred for later.

Throughout his journey, Denji experiences the recurring dream of the door, the one that should never be opened.

By the end of the International Assassins arc, he makes the resolution to leave the door closed, to let ignorance be bliss as Quanxi put it. Too many times already has Denji let down by the truth behind the curtain, such as with his relationship with Reze.

Makima, however, forces the door open by implicating Denji in the death of his new family, Aki and Power. It is revealed that Denji's locked away the memory of murdering his own father deep in his own subconscious as a way of protecting himself.

With that revelation, a long carried but never acknowledged fear is given voice by Makima; that it's wrong for Denji to dream at all, that he is undeserving of any good that may come to him.

This the moment that utterly crushes Denji and it's represented symbolically by his child-self affirming it to Makima.

This image is illustrative of how Makima strives to reduce and pacify the people around her, but it also shows that the belief was born the day he murdered his father, and carried with him ever since. When Makima congratulates and calls him a good boy and congratulates him, Denji suddenly begins to cry.

Hearing someone say to him hits so hard because he never believed it about himself.

Denji choses to keep living after Power sacrifices herself for him, but his dreams need a new direction. It's in Kishibe's underground safehouse where he is finally able to reflect. As it turns out, there had been a misunderstanding at the heart of Denji's dreams. When Makima thought of how to break Denji's contract with Pochita, she believed it was necessary to prevent him from having a "normal life". Denji too equates his dreams of a better life with the achievement of normalcy in chapter 1 and throughout the story.

Here is the crucial fact, however. Pochita never mentioned normalcy in his contract with Denji. He merely asked Denji to show him his dreams.

The word "show" is pivotal too, for Pochita does not say "achieve" or fulfill". Dreams of fullfillment and contentment are not measured by any real condition of normalcy, for one does not exist. As Makima said, Denji was happy enough in his routine with Pochita. Dreams have a life of their own and are constantly renewed and reformed. The joy is in dreaming and striving itself. That is the realization that Denji comes too when Kobeni asks him if he ever actually wanted to be normal.

Normalcy is being controlled, being pushed around, being kept on a leash. The truth is he didn't want it then and doesn't want it now; he dreams of more. With this revelation, a new way to keep living presents itself to Denji. He shouts that he wants more, that he wants ten girlfriends.

His new goal may seem juvenile and petty, but it's not the goal itself which Denji is recommitted to. Instead, it is a synthesis of all Denji has learned thus far. He knows he is just a dog chasing cars, but through deliberate ignorance, he can choose to believe in the chase, to keep moving forward and sustain himself. To be Chainsaw Man for his own selfish desires. He's knows it's wrong and he knows he shouldn't, but for his own survival, he can push those feelings aside too. That's the place Denji ends part 1, and it will be interesting to where his dreams will carry him in part 2.

#chainsaw man #csm #makima #denji #denji hayakawa #pochita #chainsaw man part 1 spoilers #csm pt 1 #meta #character analysis

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sapphoetics · 4 months

Note

" come. you’re staring at ghosts. " — robb to jon

gone girl rp prompts

The curling smoke from dragon’s fire wafted from the craggy remains of the city. Cersei had set as much of her own city alight as Daenerys had, leaving most of what was left, smoldering ash. The rancid stench of death and excrement hung low on the city like a cloud as the smattering small-folk left standing drifted between the desolation like ghosts. Some wept, their shrieks throaty and haunting, but most were silent as they trod amongst the remainder of the city and what once had been vibrant, lively neighborhoods. Thousands on thousands of innocent lives were given in their pursuit of the throne and even on the precipice of victory, Jon couldn’t help turning his nose at the foul taste. It was a necessary evil, he reminded himself, one made far more severe by the reigning monarch and they’d been forced to answer in kind. The facts did nothing to soothe the hollow in his chest, the nagging thought that they’d made a mistake along the way, as they marched through the ruins, winding their way toward the Red Keep.

Soot and flecked blood was smeared over the sharp lines of Jon’s face, making him look older than he was. Mud was caked in his hair, knotting the curls and pasting them to his scalp and neck. He’d fought with the best of them in the field, never more than a few meters from his brother, who now rode a dappled destrier just ahead. Robb would make a good king, he knew, had never doubted that fact in all the trials of their youth. Despite the Tully red of his hair, Robb was a truer Northerner than any of them. Jon, for his part, was painstakingly exhausted, his mind was flocked with static and his were eyes itchy where he hadn’t slept in days, never once leaving his brother’s side. The fear kept him sharp amongst the fog, the reminder that betrayal always came unexpected, from the dark.

The Sept of Baelor had been decimated before they’d taken wing from Essos, but even its ruins were awe-inspiring. The polished white marble steps had cracked and crumbled, all but the strongest pillars blown out from the explosion that had killed the remainder of House Tyrell and any hope for a more peaceful resolution to their war. Jon reigned his horse to a stop, allowing the marching ranks of Unsullied to continue on without him as he paused to stare. It was no secret that this is where Ned Stark had been beheaded on manufactured crimes years before, cowed at the steps of the great sept to atone for charges that weren’t his to bear.

Jon frowned as he took in the sight of what remained, imagining Lord Stark on his knees before the executioner, silent and resolute in the crown’s decision. He felt the lump in his throat at the thought, unable to grieve his father where nothing had stabilized under his feet from that moment on, leaving Jon to roll from grieving one tragedy to the next, unable to catch his breath.

Robb had noticed his brother’s absence in moments, looking over and then back to where Jon was frozen, resplendent in the glow of the evening before the holy pantheon. The king turned his horse, nodding to the battalion to continue on without him before he came up beside Jon. He was quiet for several moments, taking in what was left of the temple of foreign gods before realizing what Jon what doing and where his mind had gone. Robb’s relationship with their father had been the more complicated of the two, and though he missed his father, his eldest trueborn son held no reverie in his death.

“Come,” Robb offered gently, rousing Jon from his daydream at the sound of his voice, “You’re staring at ghosts.”

Jon blinked back to himself, the set of his jaw gone slack and the stony expression on his face softened at the sound of his brother. He turned over his shoulder to where Robb waited, smiling gently in return and thankful for the lifeline lest he wander too far back into the past. There was still much to be done where the Red Keep remained unexplored—Cersei Lannister likely hid like a snake poised to strike amongst the rubble. Dragons still wheeled overhead, charting their progress through the city before Daenerys touched down at the barbican and the three of them would continue on together.

#the only aus i want are ones where robb is alive tbh #jon snow . ( prose )#meme response .#ofapocrypha

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irithnova · 1 year

Text

The weight of grief

Genghis breaks the news to Chagatai that his eldest son - Mutukan, has passed. Mongolia is present.

See end of work for notes

Read on AO3!

Mongolia stood firmly at attention, though within him a deep sense of nervousness churned. Despite the proud posture conveyed by his armour and helmet, his true emotions remained well concealed. His eyes darted around the tent, fastidiously scanning the other generals and guards, searching for any telltale signs of apprehension or discomfort. A twinge of pain from a still-healing wound caused him to wince, and he silently lamented his lack of liquid courage before entering the meeting.

As Chagatai stepped into Genghis' tent, he felt a palpable sense of trepidation thrumming through his veins. The air hung heavy with an unspoken weight, suffocating in its intensity. His heart, a frantic bird trapped within his chest, beat a wild and erratic rhythm, a prelude to the doom that was to come. He stood before Genghis - his father, the Khan's gaze weighing heavily upon him, and felt a constriction in his throat, a fear that threatened to choke him. Chagatai knew, with a gnawing certainty, that what was about to be revealed to him would shatter his world into a million irreparable pieces.

Upon his entrance into the tent, Mongolia's gaze settled on Chagatai. While it was true that Chagatai was not his most preferred of Genghis' sons, the gravity of the news he was about to break was not one he wished upon any of them. Mongolia couldn't help but ruefully ponder on the potential impact this loss could have on their future military campaigns.

He turned to his Khan.

Genghis sat in stoic silence, his visage an enigma, as if contemplating the weight of the cataclysmic tidings he was tasked to impart. In that brief pause, he observed Chagatai with a penetrating gaze, as if assessing his fortitude to bear the unimaginable burden of his loss.

Mongolia loomed behind him, his heart oppressed with an indefinable sense of foreboding, for he was privy to the portentous fate that was to befall them. He gnawed at his inner cheek.

At last, Genghis spoke, his voice a lament, a bittersweet dirge that struck at the core of Chagatai's being.

"The warrior spirit of your son, Mutukan, has passed from this earthly realm," Genghis uttered, his timbre sonorous, and his tenor portentous. "In the face of death, he was unwavering, a testament to his valour, but fate has decreed that his time among us has ended."

As those words resonated through the air, Chagatai's world crumbled into irreparable fragments, his cherished son, his raison d'être, lost in an unfathomable abyss. His knees quavered and buckled, a manifestation of the overwhelming desolation that consumed him. Yet, with immense effort, he maintained his footing, his mettle unbroken, a testament to his tenacity. Despite the torrent of tears that threatened to spill forth from his eyes, he resisted, his anguish a personal burden to bear.

As Mongolia stood by, observing the utter devastation that had descended upon Chagatai, he was compelled to avert his gaze, the weight of the tragic scene an intolerable burden upon his conscience. The semblance of detachment that he had so meticulously honed over the past few hours running up to the breaking of the news has cracked, and he could no longer maintain the facade of stoicism.

But Genghis, resolute and unwavering, was not done.

"You must not cry," Genghis said, his tone firm. "You are a leader, and leaders must show no weakness. Your grief must be private, for the good of our people."

Chagatai was seized with a tumult of emotions at his father's ' command, his initial act of incredulity giving way to a sense of mounting outrage. The very idea that he, a father in mourning, should be enjoined to stifle his grief in the name of leadership rankled him to the core. Yet, mindful of the delicate balance that underpinned the fabric of their society, Chagatai suppressed his resentment, granting a deferential nod as a concession to the dictates of propriety.

Upon hearing those words, Mongolia shifted his gaze towards Genghis, his countenance betraying a conflicted mélange of confusion and consternation. The act of composure he had sought to project was further ruptured, laid bare by the jarring announcement that had been made. How could he say something like that?

As Chagatai pivoted to exit the tent, an overpowering wave of anguish inundated him, besieging his senses with a torrent of sorrow. Despite his fervent attempts to restrain his emotions, tears streamed uncontrollably down his countenance, rendering him disoriented and unsteady. He faltered and collapsed onto the ground, his frame quivering with heart-rending sobs, and he called out to Genghis, voicing his allegations that Genghis had betrayed his promise to protect Mutukan and had failed in his responsibilities as a father and leader.

The scene was one of visceral anguish and despair, leaving onlookers feeling exposed and vulnerable. As Chagatai was carried away, Genghis turned to his generals with an inscrutable expression, his thoughts shrouded in secrecy.

Mongolia observed with deep sorrow as Chagatai was conveyed away, unable to suppress his urge to approach and console him, but ultimately restraining himself from doing so. In an assertive tone, he commanded the guards in attendance to depart, leaving only himself, some generals, and Genghis in the now-quiet tent. He sat down.

He regarded Genghis with a hard gaze, his expression one of unyielding determination. "Your words to Chagatai were unwise," he stated firmly. "To deny him the opportunity to grieve in his own way is a disservice to him and to our people."

Genghis met Mongolia's gaze with equal intensity. "It is a leader's duty to put the needs of the many before the needs of the few," he replied sternly. "Chagatai's grief is understandable, but he must learn to control his emotions in the presence of his people. It is for the good of the greater Mongol nation."

Mongolia's outburst had taken everyone in the tent by surprise, and the silence that followed was heavy with tension.

"Baatar - how can you even suggest that a leader should be allowed to show such weakness?" Genghis continued, his voice laced with disdain. "A leader must always be strong, no matter the circumstance."

"But what good is strength if it's just a facade?". Mongolia countered, his tone rising.

The other generals watched in rapt attention.

"You're missing the point," Genghis insisted, his voice calm but unwavering. "It's not about pretending to be strong, it's about being strong for our people. They look to us for guidance and protection, and if we show any sign of weakness, it could put them in danger."

"But what about Chagatai?" Mongolia retorted, his voice tinged with desperation. "He's lost his son - don't you think he deserves the right to grieve in his own way?"

Genghis paused for a moment, as though considering his words carefully. "Of course he does," he said finally. "But there's a time and a place for everything. Right now, our people need to see that we are strong and united, even in the face of tragedy."

The two men fell into a tense silence. The other generals watched on, unsure of what would happen next.

Mongolia rose from his seat, his heart heavy with defeat. He knew the pointlessness of furthering this into a full blown argument, no matter how strongly he felt, and it weighed on him like a leaden cloak. With a deep sigh, he straightened his back and turned towards the exit, his eyes scanning the faces of the nervous generals as he passed by.

Upon arriving at the tent's entrance, the Mongol halted momentarily and glanced back at Genghis with an intense stare, silently conveying his mounting vexation. As he prepared to vocalise his dissent, he reconsidered, shaking his head resignedly. He knew that once the Khan had taken a firm stance, it was impractical to try and sway his decisions. Much like himself.

In a low, subdued tone, Mongolia finally spoke, enunciating his words with great emphasis, "I shall locate Chagatai." Though his sentence was brief and concise, the manner in which he spoke carried a plethora of unpleasant emotions.

Indeed, he was going to find the mourning father, though his thoughts turned to the peace that a drink or two could bring him afterwards.

He made his exit from the tent.

Notes:

Chagatai Khan was a prominent figure in the Mongol Empire and the second son Genghis Khan. He would go on later to rule the Chagatai Khanate, a subdivision of the Mongol Empire.

His son Mutukan was also a notable military commander and leader within the empire. When Mutukan died, it had a significant impact on Chagatai.

The exact details of Chagatai's reaction to Mutukan's death are not known, as historical records from that time are limited. However, it is believed that Chagatai was deeply saddened by the loss of his son.

It's believed that Mutukan died while fighting in a battle against Khwarezmian forces in a region called Khorasan. He was leading an army of Mongol soldiers who were invading the Khwarezmian Empire in what is now Iran and Central Asia. During the battle, Mutukan was hit by an arrow and died.

This scene is based off of a scene in a Chinese series on Genghis Khan (its actually quite accurate to the secret history) when Genghis breaks the news to Chagatai that his son died. You can watch the whole thing on youtube, the title of the playlist is called Genghis Khan 2004 I think.

I wanted to write this, because whereas I do wholeheartedly believe that Mongolia deeply respected and revered Genghis, I don't think he blindly agreed to everything he said. He himself is quiet hard headed. This is an example of a situation in which Mongolia makes it known that he is unhappy with how Genghis conducted himself.

I wrote that Chagatai was not Mongolia's favourite son of Genghis because - although he was a good leader, he often displayed all or nothing thinking, especially when it came to personal affairs. He was also the biggest bully of Jochi - the eldest son of Genghis, levelling accusations of being a bastard and not truly Genghis' son at him. Whether Jochi was Genghis' son or not, Genghis still accepted him as his own.

#hetalia #aph mongolia #hws mongolia #Hetalia mongolia #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia world stars #hetalia world series #hetalia fanfiction #Hetalia fanfic #Historical hetalia #Mongol Empire #Hws Asia #Aph Asia #Mongolian Empire #Hws east Asia #Aph east Asia #Hetalia writing

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riewritten · 2 years

Text

31 SEMBLANCE

DUSK IN THE BRIGHTEST | chapter directory

erwin smith/fem!reader, erwin smith/you, no y/n | slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff & smut, mutual pining, canon AU, college/univ AU, professor erwin smith, commander erwin smith, non-linear narrative, manga spoilers

Trigger warning: canon-typical violence, graphic description, explicit sexual content, suicidal thoughts, mental health issues, trauma, implied/referenced sexual harassment, implied/referenced abuse, attempted murder, overdosing

Plot: It was always the nightmares, really. Entrapped with walls, human-eating giants, fighting through metal strings and swords – utterly violent, dreary, recurrent. But behind the blurry faces was a man with menacing blue eyes and vivid features; eventually appearing before you as your new reputable professor, Erwin Smith. Since then, the disaster had slipped beyond your subconscious. AO3

As you dwelled on your cries, the commander finally sat down again; his fingers continuously glided on your cheeks to soothe you somehow.

"How are they in that world?" He finally spoke again after a while.

"The two are living as Levi's siblings. Isabel, while a full-on brat, stuck to me since we were children. Furlan is very composed and he helps Levi in lots of things." You chuckled a bit despite the tears due to random memory. "You won't believe me when I say he used to hold me with affection and now he's having a happy crush on the current queen."

Indeed, that would be hard to imagine. Erwin had to register that with a small laugh as well. "The others?"

"I haven't met Miche, Hange, and the others yet but they're friends with you two. I hear them a lot from you and Levi."

"Miche… he's living a better life as well, I see." He pondered. For some reason, his voice was a mixture of relief and bitterness. "How am I in that world?"

"You became quite like your father despite having him for just a short time. You've been very gentle to everyone, especially to me, and helped me without hesitation because I was left behind for so long due to lots of things…" You bit your lip to suppress another wave of emotions. "And you also chose to remember everything in this world by dreams so you could pay for your debts. That's why our paths crossed again. You were my saving grace in that world. Having this vision was too tormenting for me until you came."

"It's good that I didn't end up too much of a bastard somehow." He finally withdrew his palm on your cheek and rested it on your hand instead. "Are you healthy enough in that world?"

"I am. I was poisoned with soup then stabbed but I think I'm fine in general."

"Soup?" Erwin repeated in surprise. "So all this time—"

"I quickly overcame my fear towards the dish when you repeatedly accompanied me while eating it." You clarified with a chuckle. "But that's why you're on the edge in that world as well. Despite some distinctions, you're completely the same cruel man."

"If I ever did murder the perpetrator in that world, would you be able to forgive me?"

"Of course, I would. I'm staying no matter what." You answered resolutely. "It doesn't need to clash with seeking accountability, after all."

Silence enveloped the whole room. You heard Erwin gulp after a while as if trying to articulate the next question. Then you realized he might be having a hard time voicing it out because he squeezed onto your hand.

"Was I able to give you all the love you deserve in that world?"

That's when you finally let the tears drip down again. It was silent weeping this time and you held onto his hand tightly as well. "You're a man full of teasing and banters but you also keep on telling me that I'll get everything I want in that world. That you'll make up for it somehow."

"Is that so," He weakly muttered and stayed still again. When you glanced at him, you almost sobbed out loud. He looks so sad and on a closer look, it's as if he's a lost child who's so conflicted about what to do. His eyes are glued on the hand he's holding and it's obvious that he's taking quite a while coming up with other things to say. Never in your life did you think you'd ever see this man so lost with his words.

"Do you want to go back?" He muttered.

Somehow, as the sight continuously burns your vision, you notice how he's trying to muster up the courage to finally let you go.

You weren't able to stop the sobs then. "I could live everywhere as long as you're alive."

"But the people dear to you are alive in that world. It's needless to say that you'll be happier there."

"You're the only reason I existed again. You strongly wished for me to exist, that's why I'm here even after using the power granted to me. Your existence is what matters to me the most."

"You say that I'm still the same man in that world… but do I actually have the ability to protect you with all my might?"

"You have. We could protect ourselves. There are no monsters in that world." You repeated what you had said back in Wall Maria.

His eyes widened then as if that remark ultimately concluded the whole bargain. Finally, his grip on your hand untightened.

Despite the calm wistfulness, he looks more broken this time. You weren't able to take it so you gripped his hand again. "I'll stay here. You don't need to convince me anymore. I could live with you here. I would love to do so."

That's when Erwin finally smiled. It was the most poignant smile you've ever seen of him, in this world and the other one. He gently removed your grasp on him and shook his head. "You came here to save me and so your job here is done. That's more than enough for me."

"No. You said it, right? We can do the things we weren't able to do before. I would love to have that life. You told me I'd look good living inside the walls as well. Then live with me." You're the one doing the bargain this time. "It's not fake security anymore and I'd be able to live beside someone I love. We don't even have to quit at all. We just have to—"

You were cut off gently when Erwin leaned in for a kiss. He held on to your cheeks and languidly glided his lips to yours. It's slow, too slow that you just know he is savoring it for the last time. You let him melt down your sobs then.

He halted after a while with both of your lips barely touching and breathing in each other's air. "Isabel needs someone right now." He whispered.

"No. She has everyone to take care of her." You begged, completely setting aside the worries in pursuit of coaxing the man above you who had nothing in this life but pure suffering.

"Furlan is having a hard time. If a man as composed as him is having such difficulty keeping himself up then you really need to go back."

"Again, you just have to let me live with you. They have each other and we don't need to worry about them."

"How about me in that world? Who do I have there?" You were shot into silence then. Somehow, Erwin hoped you would be able to pitch in a name. Perhaps that'd make him reconsider his decision. When you didn't respond, he just smiled again and landed a chaste peck on the bridge of your nose.

"You need to come back and stop me from doing something irreversible or if I already did, you have to be there and forgive me." He landed another one on your forehead. "Because you're sweet like that, my dearest girl that's holding me with so much affection. You're the one who's been saving me all this time and I need another saving in that world right now."

"But I could just stay here, don't you want that? We could finally have good things together."

"The fact that there's a world where we could get that is more than enough for me. What you did in this world is more than enough for me." He said while hushing your tears away.

You start to feel as if you're being pulled away from your body, each second ticking until you disappear into thin air, until you leave the body that Erwin is holding so dearly.

No, just a moment. I'm not done yet. I need to have him realize that I'm meant to be here.

"You went through a lot as it is and I could finally stay beside you to get past our miseries. I was dead set on dying there but if I could have the chance to live with you here—" However, you realized that Erwin's words are to be heard as well because it's by his will that you're here. He's the one who vehemently desired to see you again even if it's just a glimpse. He's the one who begged for the parallel and had it full of glitches. "You won't let me go, would you?"

"I won't. I have you beyond worlds after all. See, you have this terrible man stuck on you for several lifetimes." It's as if the Erwin smiling in front of you also knows well that he had the final say as much as you do.

He lands another kiss as he finally decides to let you go, for this moment is the last one you'll ever have of him — the man who had tons of mistakes and sought to be forgiven, the one who died and still begged for you to save him, and the one who vehemently believed that seeing you again even just for a minute is more than he could ever wish for.

"Thank you for coming to me."

It’s as if your mind has been flying away inside an abyss since then. You could hear words but they’re just playing around in the air. What’s keeping you from breaking is that last moment playing inside your head so vividly on repeat. Despite not knowing how long you've been doing it, you're still more than thankful at the sight. There's no way you'd get sick of it when you're well aware that by the time it stops playing, you won't see nor feel the commander ever again.

On the day you finally got agency with your thoughts and body again, even for a short period, you woke up screaming. Your body reeked of sweat even though the temperature was not even high. The peaceful and well-cleaned room is spinning around your eye. Every corner of it is threatening you with death, kitchen knives, blood, scattered utensils, and broken plates. This wasn't even included with your worries until this very moment. There's a lump in your throat that makes it hard for you to breathe and it's more than enough to acknowledge that you're back for good. It's your body that's reacting to all of this, not your consciousness beyond this world.

Fortunately, everyone is inside the house today including Erwin. Kuchel’s household usually takes turns tending to you so everyone stopped in their tracks as soon as they heard you screaming in the room, from words like "mom" and "I'm sorry" up to painful cries about how you want to see your brother again. They stormed towards where you are. Everyone who'd go near you during these episodes could be perceived as a threat, that's why they have to be careful not to invade your space.

It was Kuchel who spoke first, gently and tranquil. The rest waited at the door. "It's okay, it's okay. Look at your surroundings. You're in a completely different place. No one's gonna hurt you here." Kuchel slowly walked.

You can't even hear her, not at all. "Mom, I don't–" You gripped your hair with both hands “I don’t remember. This isn't what I intended to create when I—" You cut yourself off with a shaky gasp as you clutched on your left stomach. "—it hurts. Oh, it hurts. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" You felt how it's bleeding, how it'd spurt out the blood from you anytime soon, your organs gushing out along the way.

Furlan and Isabel can't even look at you anymore. Levi still had his composed face but his eyebrows were curled, perhaps in worry, anger, or both. Erwin's expression was grim, nearly unreadable, as he followed your every move. Despite Kuchel's completely composed demeanor, this is an utterly painful sight to see as there's no wound in your stomach anymore. Your mother's not holding a knife at you because she's dead. She can't hurt you anymore. No one could.

Nothing but the flashes of memories that'd stay in you for the rest of your life.

That's the cue for her then as the pain perceived by your brain would distract you from seeing someone walking as a threat. She tried a palm on your head at first to test, but you flinched and screamed so she pulled back. Kuchel then stayed half a meter away, knelt down to your level, and whispered things only audible to the both of you. Slowly but surely, her whispers subsided your panic down into sobs. You still had your eyes shot really wide but the mind hysteria decreased. Kuchel tried to touch you again, this time you were calmer; she took that as the cue and gently engulfed you in her embrace. As she caressed your head, you hugged your knees. The sobs weakened until they became mere huffs. She then laid you down, let you curl yourself up in a fetal position, and closed your eyes after a while. Breathing became steady then. You're sleeping again. Kuchel finally halted her hands. That's when those who'd like to go near you entered, Erwin first.

Upon sitting on the bed, Erwin placed a hand on your cheek to check something, "She's having a fever again.”

Isabel is crying this time but she didn't dare utter a word anymore. She walked out to get a towel and basin with water. Levi reached a hand on top of her head though, halting her for a while. "I know that face. Don't blame yourself again. She's already here."

Her bottled-up thoughts finally broke. "Why did you listen to me? I'm your stupid sister, a good-for-nothing brat. I didn't even dare go to college. Why did you? Both of you should've known better!" She also shot Furlan a glare.

The way she's shouting at Levi is a completely new sight to see. Indeed, she tends to shout a lot but this one’s completely angry and spiteful. Even Furlan is completely taken aback. Isabel's train of thought has been crippled since that evening. Not only you who got physically harmed would be scarred in the mind. The only time she stopped waking and throwing up in the middle of the night was when you finally woke up.

Levi ruffled her hair. "I told you she's here already. No one will blame you. Not even Mom blamed you when you finally told her." He then moved Isabel's head to turn it towards Kuchel's. The mother flashed an apologetic smile at her. "Not even the brat lying down beside her would blame you. You know that much by now, don't you? You're the one closest to her here."

Isabel gulped the lump down her throat. Everyone paused. After wiping her face, she walked away without a word. She's still shaking. Her fists are clenched just as usual, so hard that her hands are stained with red marks.

"I'll buy meds outside." Furlan quietly excused himself.

Kuchel walked towards the two and patted their shoulders to say something. "Her father won't be coming back. He cut all his connections off and I discovered the other day that he already has a new family overseas. Maybe the divorce was what pushed that woman to her limits. I don't even know about it. Not even their child got aware." Erwin then widened his eyes. He's the one who initiated the search for him after all. "That's pretty much it. She's got nothing but us now. Not that it made any difference. It's been like this ever since." Then walked away as if nothing happened. Her composure did not falter at all. It says a lot about how her eldest is the same.

Then Erwin and Levi were left alone. Levi started. "You're fortunate she killed herself first before you could."

Erwin folded his arms as he leaned on the door jamb, watched your now tranquil figure then clicked his tongue. "Fortunate, you say?"

"What do you think would happen if this girl finally came back to her senses and discovered you became a murderer instead?"

"She already knew that'd happen.” He blatantly uttered it to you after all. He’s just quite uncertain if you would actually remember. “And yet I'm too livid to care, I don't think I ever could."

Of course, Levi should know this much by now. He changed the topic then. "When you went to her that day, did you bring a weapon?"

“I'm the one who gave her the weapon, even asked her to kill me. I got nothing but words. Do you think I'm the one who led her into that?"

"Don't throw questions on me. Explain what happened instead."

Erwin silently walked toward you and sat on the bed. Before answering, he fixed the blanket so it'd cover you properly. He made sure your head would be the only thing visible as if recalling your humorous exchange way back at the balcony could help in toning down his grim thoughts. His demeanor stayed dark though, utterly dark. "Nothing dangerous. Just told her she's already dead and I'm giving her the chance to choose if she'd be the one to do the final act or me. If she chooses me then I'd do her some service like the good man I am. Something that'd take a whole day."

"You—" Levi shot his eyes wide. "Urged her to do that?"

Instead of answering, Erwin busied himself brushing his hand on your head. You squeaked and moved a bit but didn't wake up. When he gave Levi a look again, the latter had to register the sight. Erwin looked utterly perilous right now despite his tranquil touches. His face was flat as stone, not even a curl on his eyebrows nor a scowl. The menacing glint in his eyes is more than enough to remark how angry he is right now and how unremorseful of what he did. He might be willing to do more, even. Levi almost shuddered. Considering how Erwin holds you right now despite the face he's having, it seems like you're the only one safe in this space as of the moment.

Levi doesn't want to imagine what would become of him if you really died. "What the fuck is up with that face?"

"She's the one who ended her suffering. Did herself a favor and died. Who do you think is the more fortunate one here, Levi?"

"What have you done, exactly?"

"I do deadlines in my profession a lot so I tried having it to her as well. If this angel doesn't wake up in two weeks—" Then his caresses slid on your cheeks instead. "Perhaps a stab, or having the nails removed, hour after an hour, no drugs involved, let her blood dry out all over her house. Anything, really. I also visited her daily for gentle reminders; told her that the time is ticking and that I accept requests. Gave her intricate details of what I would do to her if the deadline came. She tried to stay from one place to another to avoid me but I always ended up bumping into her coincidentally. I think the setup in this world is pretty much in my favor, unlike the previous one."

The search warrant didn’t even last for more than 24 hours. She was quickly found dead.

Realization daunted Levi. “I thought you only went to her place once.”

"You think that'd suffice? I'm as good as dead might as well bring her down with me. Want me to get more detailed about it?" It's not even a question meant for Levi's approval. It was perhaps a mockery he intended to voice out in this world. He's making every dust in this space right now hear how low he went and how he'd go further if the conditions set upon the girl he's holding are way crueler than what just happened. "I might've done my words so well because every day I visited her, she'd end up screaming and sobbing. I didn't even need to soil my hands. Her deranged mind is way too easy to corrupt. I gave her some gifts, perhaps the last one was her breaking point. It was the portrait of her dead son in Paradis. How he looked, how healthy and happy he was thanks to his sister who loved him so well like the sweetest girl that she is. How precious my woman is because she ended up saving everyone's asses, including that wicked mother only if she knew better than to make her existence known to me."

If something's horrifying Levi, it wasn't what Erwin did, not at all, but rather the lack of guilt on his features. It's as if a completely different man is sitting on the bed because the thing that's been crippling Erwin all his life is the same one he's lacking right now.

"All this time your life revolved around remorse and now you'd shit on me at how you didn't feel that at all?"

"Paying debts. Bullshit. Completely stupid.” He spat sardonically. “This girl's the one who paid for it all this time. I thought so highly of myself."

Levi brought a hand to his temples, massaged them slightly then spoke again. "I'm not in the mood to ask anymore. Spill everything now or get your hands off her and walk out of this house."

"When she told you that she wasn't supposed to exist, it's not a bluff to save that woman. She's the one who instigated this world in exchange for her existence." And finally, Erwin's grimness subsided. It was replaced with dread. "I don't even know why she's lying down here as we speak. A moment ago I was fighting my other self for dear life because I want her here and now I can't comprehend what's happening anymore."

"How do you even know it wasn't a bluff?"

"She's the one who instigated this world, made me survive my demise, and ensured that I'd witness everything in Paradis until the end. That's why I was sure to kill her mother, Levi. Because I don't think I'd have her again. Back then, I just knew she was dead the moment I saw her in my subconscious, and the thought of that woman living in a world granted by the girl she almost killed repulsed me." Erwin just looks tired, even worse than what Levi used to see when they were younger. "And now that she chose to come back to this world only to suffer like this: completely unresponsive and broken, I feel nothing but regret that I actually did that woman a favor by not having her dead in my hands."

Levi finally calmed down and silence enveloped the room for a while. He understands, he really does, but still, "I doubt you'd be sputtering grim shit out of your mouth if this girl's actually in her right mind and could hear you." With that, Erwin's dreadful face was replaced with sheer lament as if what Levi said brought him back. The latter could finally see him again then, the Erwin that he and everyone knows well.

"She already knew what I would do if she remained unconscious in this world. That's what took her to come back here even, but still, I don't think I'd ever regret what I did even if she comes to despise me, and I also saw something right after that woman died."

"Are you gonna tell me her mother instigated something as well?"

Erwin nodded, "I saw her brother, the one she had in that world but didn't have here, approximately a week after. He's in the form of a young child who doesn't remember everything about him at all."

Levi's eyes widened again. "How sure are you that it's him? Let alone it's because of that woman's death?"

"Aside from the fact that he completely looks the same, he's got nothing of himself aside from his first name. When I asked the foster home, that boy came to them a day after that woman died. He appeared out of nowhere, with no traces of people associated with him. What explanation is there aside from that?"

Levi doesn't even know what to say anymore, no follow-up questions and utterances of possibilities. The revelation is quite too overwhelming for him as well and he needs to wind out for now. "Nonetheless, you better tell her in complete detail about what you've done to her mother, Erwin. No matter how everyone here wouldn't take what happened against you, she’s the only one who holds the final verdict because she lived." Levi then grabbed his things in the room so he could finally go out. "Just as you told me that night, I'm neither a soldier nor a thug. You must remember that in yourself too because the only time I'd tolerate that deranged face of yours again is when she's finally buried six feet below the ground." He's in the doorway now and before he finally disappeared at the man, he shot him a glare. "If you dare show it to me again, let alone to her or anyone in this house, might as well go back to where you came from. I wouldn't be able to see you as someone safe to be close with my family by then."

Erwin pondered in silence as he looked down at his palms. He understood it very well and that's the same reason why he feels like laughing at himself now. He always had blood in his hands just because of his mouth and the feeling’s way too normal for him already, too normal that he can’t bring himself to care.

Perhaps not only that woman who laid her hands on you got an inherently wicked existence. That's why he knew how to deal with it when he came for her. He's not any different.

"You need to come back and stop me from doing something irreversible or if I already did, you have to be there and forgive me."

The bitter laugh was let out, then. Shameless. Utterly shameless. Poor you, to be associated with deranged beings even in this life. Even after sacrificing so much.

Moments after, Isabel finally entered and Erwin let her tend to you as she usually does. She cleaned your body first and after a while, woke you up to drink meds. You've been seated since then. After her task, she sat down on the chair beside your bed and faced Erwin.

She noticed how grim the man's expression is as if he was just mirroring your face. His eyes are only glued to you as well and Isabel can't grasp what he's thinking. He's been like this ever since that happened. It's just that his face is way milder now that your eyes finally opened— she can't even say you're back because you're not. Since you got conscious until this very moment, no one was able to hold a decent conversation with you. If you're not asleep, you’d just stare out of nowhere or mumble incoherent stuff. You could nod sometimes but your muscles aren’t that responsive. What happened earlier is not the first one as well and they're all too scared, too horrified that you'd stay this way forever — gone for good, crippled for the rest of your life.

And thus Isabel looked down at the floor, clenched her fists again, eyebrows curled, and lips pursed all because of worry. "Erwin, uhm, it's been days since you last visited and she's…" Talking to Erwin about you makes her terribly anxious as if she's completely indebted to this man for being negligent all this time. "…still as unresponsive."

"Is that so," Erwin's gaze didn't leave you. You're staring at the wall with a face not moving at all, just as usual. He lifted your arm to see if you could hold it up this time but as soon as he released it, the limb fell down flatly as if it was dead. It's as if you're a breathing doll. Breathing but dead. "Have she eaten already?"

"Yeah. Recently, I'm able to make her smell the food and then urge her to open her mouth slightly. She could do that much now."

"She's improved a lot, then. Didn't she have any reactions to the utensils you used? Like what she did back at the hospital?"

"I used a plastic spoon this time. We realized she's particularly getting hysterical at the sight of metal spoons and bowls. Odd. She's not afraid of the soup itself. Only with the utensils." Erwin just nodded and didn't say more. He just blandly busied himself by randomly picking on your face to see if a reaction would be pulled out — pinching your cheeks, holding your breath by pinching your nose, gliding his fingers on your eyelids and pulling it up a bit — but nothing happened. Isabel clinched on her knees further. "Recently, Levi told me that you're actually the one who gave him a heads-up about this. When you came here for the first time years ago, you said that you saw a wounded girl buying bandages and disinfectants at the convenience store."

"Levi decided to tell you everything now, I see." He recalled the incident. "I rushed to the counter first to pay it on her behalf and even added some stuff but that's all I was able to do. She looked so out of it, though. It's as if she's in auto-pilot mode. She didn't flinch when the cashier crew said her stuff had already been paid and left without a word. Similar to this, but she was able to walk and grab things somehow."

Isabel gulped the lump forming up in her throat, "And apparently, that's when Levi told us that the wounds she's been getting ever since we're children aren't accidents unlike she claimed so. We tried to slowly gauge her to address the matter at hand but we realized she doesn't remember them at all. On our next attempts, she said she saw it happening in her dream instead." Erwin hummed to acknowledge the redhead's remark. Isabel still can't decipher the look on his face and that alone reverberated her anxiety. It didn't take long until she started crying. It was when Erwin finally looked at her. "I'm so sorry. I was afraid because her mother had custody over her and if my mom confronted her about it, she might take her away from us and we'd never see her again. That's why Mom never knew everything until this happened. My brothers listened to that stupid remark and agreed that we should just take care of her behind the curtains. Look where it got her."

He's already aware of what Isabel just said and if he's on his usual self, he would immediately sense her impending cries — enough to comfort her before she could let them out. However, he's utterly spent right now, too exhausted to channel his astuteness. "It's not your fault. You never wanted this to happen."

"It is. We should've just forced her out of there. I can't believe my brothers listened to such a stupid remark." She hit her head with a hand continuously and sobbed. "Why did they listen to me?"

"The wounds Levi claimed she usually gets aren't grave. It could be classified as some sort of corporal punishment and it's more likely that she'd get away from it as most parents would. She doesn't even remember it herself. I'm not saying that the way you didn't inform Kuchel was right and wise but your fear was valid." Erwin replied and after pondering, added. "And Levi's actions were valid too. All of you are the ones who always rush to her whenever she needs help but Levi still tends to find her primary guardians every time. They're the ones most aware of her medical records and had direct contact with her physicians. You guys did what you could."

"But still, we could've done so much more if…"

"I don't think she'd ever blame you for that. Levi's right. Your remorse will just make her feel worse. She'd think you wouldn't be crippled with guilt if she worked on not being a burden. You should know how her mind works by now." Erwin proceeded to massage your limbs, a habit most people in the house developed since you really don't move most of the time. "Besides, everyone will really end up living with that guilt had she died but she's here instead, and so the present is what we must dwell on. You wouldn't be able to tend to her properly if you're burdened with that, don't you think?" It took time for Isabel to respond and when she finally nodded, Erwin smiled. It's a small one, but the first time she saw it again after a while. "You're one of the greatest reasons why she came back here. Thank you for sticking to her until now."

Isabel almost felt herself crying again as if a thorn finally plucked out of her skin. Erwin wasn't angry at her. Not at all. "You don't have to thank me for that."

Even before Erwin could reply, however, they heard you talk. It's a weak one. He scooted nearer and urged you to repeat it.

"Erwin… Nightmares…"

Isabel shot the man a look but he was as taken aback as she was. You never mentioned anyone's name aside from your mother and brother since you woke up. She scooted nearer as well, "You're not having nightmares, and yeah, Erwin's here."

"It's okay, you don't need to…" You murmured again, your face still dead. "...nightmares about them while holding me." As if you're a robot.

Isabel turned to Erwin again. Despite the shock, he still managed to answer. "Your words are enough for now."

Your response almost made Isabel gasp; you smiled, a genuine one at that.

"Can you go outside first? I'll talk to her." Erwin said to Isabel without shooting her a look. She quickly nodded and excused herself.

You didn't say anything after that so Erwin called your name as if to test the water, "You're back now."

Your face went back to flatness again. "I'll stay here. You don't need to convince me anymore. I'd love to…" Then your words become too incoherent to comprehend.

"That's right. You're here. You're talking to me."

"We can do the things we weren't able to do before. I would love to have that life. Inside the walls." You murmured flatly again.

Never in his life had he imagined himself to be so utterly lost on what to do. What would wake you up? What'd snap you back, perhaps a cue that'd make your mind perceive where you really are?

After a long while of pondering, he started. "Seems like you ran from Levi's place up to here. That tea helps a lot with relaxation—" He trailed and urged himself to recall more. What did he say to you that day? "…welcome to my class. You may sit wherever."

Slowly but surely, your eyes widened. You're suddenly scared and your breath hitched. He let you process that at first.

When you started calling out for Historia, that's when he cupped your face and turned you to him. "There, there. Finally realized what world you're in now?" You looked completely horrified as soon as your eyes landed on him though. You're on that day again — the first time you met him, the moment you saw the man in your nightmares up front.

He quickly recalled another fragment of conversation to calm you down somehow. He can't afford to make you faint. "…if I get to remember the fact that I charged soldiers to death even by dreams then I have to atone for it." Slowly and fortunately, your reaction changed again. You curled your eyebrows as if questioning what he just said. It was the same one you gave him when he calmed you down at the lantern.

It's working. "I don’t think we’ll see each other die in this world somehow." He almost choked midway, maybe due to the bitter feeling that remark exuded. Still, he continued. "—perhaps we could take that instead?" Your expression still had a hint of doubt but more relief washed your face now. Just the same one he saw when he picked you up on the road that midnight.

Another one, then, perhaps the last one if fortunate enough. "Setting an equal ground with me will not happen in that room and I'm close to finishing that nightmare. I'm preparing you for it."

"Are you gonna leave me after that?" You suddenly huffed in disbelief. "You said you won't!"

There.

"Try to look around then. Did I leave you?"

Finally, for the first time since you woke up, you looked around your surroundings. He removed his palms on your cheeks and regained his seat to give you air.

Still not done. The grounding is the next one. He asked you to label stuff: five things to see, four things to feel, three things to hear, and more. He made you raise a hand up, and more things to check on your movements.

It took quite a while to finish but when you did everything he asked for, Erwin finally smiled — the first genuine smile he had for a long time. Slowly but surely, he was able to come to terms with his ponders again. Whether or not his existence is inherently wicked, you came back here to forgive him. Like the dearest girl that you are, holding him with so much importance, saving him with your unwavering affection every single time.

He sat on the bed, tipped your chin, and called your name. "You did so, so well. You've been such a strong girl for us. You don't need to worry anymore. Everything's okay now."

It took you a while to reply. When you finally realized everything, you shakily asked. "Really? It is?"

"It is." He went for a kiss, then. A completely gentle one that lasted for a moment, something that both of you thought was gone for good. "Thank you for coming to me again."

The one who started his life selfishly was the one to let go, while the other who embodied selflessness in his entirety clung desperately.

what you wish for the commander, above anything else, is that he'd be happy worlds beyond. if he finds someone in the world where you managed to save him then what is to be sad for? indeed, he knows it well just as he knows you. he did as you want. but then again, what is grief if not love persevering? no matter how able are them to take the world off his shoulders or turn the stormy cloud into a rainbow, there'll still be a glimpse of you lurking around his windows—or perhaps on his own reflection, on the sword, even on his emerald bolo tie—for your existence is a shredding light, always illuminating the dreariest of days.

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theangiediary · 1 year

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hey Angie i love picking your brain and was wondering if you had thoughts on dad!dean or even Dean with Jr.? I saw you mention the idea of dean as a father in the tags of a post and it hasn't left my head 😊

Oh man, I feel like I’ve called him mommy more than dad 😭Very different vibe (horny. it’s horny).

Unless this is about the “Dean sleeping on the couch” gifset?

For serious: by s6ish, when he’s calmed down from the frat-y fuckboy ease of s1, he acts A LOT like a typical white, blue collar upper midwest dad. Believes in hardwork, humanity (or at least Good People), beer, and rolling his eyes at fancy tech. If this wasn’t Supernatural he’d have 3+ kids, a big belly, and a New Years resolution to go to the YMCA more often with his slightly anxious God-fearing wife.

I might be projecting. Just a little ;)

But anyway this IS Supernatural so let’s talk about that.

Dean’s Iconic interactions with kids includes:

Ben

Lucas (Dead in the Water)

Timmy (Bad Boys)

Bobby John

In the first three, YES Dean is pretty good with them. He empathizes and connects in a way that solves the case (Lucas/Timmy). However a key component here is that those boys remind him of him. Ben (despite being not related (cop out)) is a mini-Dean, and even the others are parallels. Would Dean be good with a kid who acted completely differently? One with disabilities, or a girl?

[I think the show answers this somewhat with Claire and Jack, but that’s.. beyond my wheelhouse sorry.] [There’s also Emma, but.. she was woefully underexplored as a character before Sam killed her. An Amy/Benny plot device].

In comfort/“good days” Dean is great. And he’s certainly willing to make sacrifices. But... the other “kid” of Dean’s is, well, Sam. He brought Sam to the hospital when he broke a bone, he fed and cared for him days on end, I mean come on. There’s “watch your sibling while we go on a date”, “pick up X after school” and then there’s THAT.

Did Dean do a good job? Eh. He was a child himself. And what parent does it perfectly? etc. I think something that’s consistent though with his character is that he’s 1. dramatic 2. flustered in conflict.

All that to say: he’d be a mostly decent father. Say things in anger that he may or may not apologize for, that his kid(s) would have to internally forgive him for- that “you hurt me, but family means loyalty/duty, so...”. I don’t think he’d rock a PFLAG sticker or handle his daughter’s complaints about a sexist teacher well. But he’s nurturing: he cleans! Nests! He changes diapers! In a room full of other people, they look toward Dean to keep a baby safe! So he’d make the other moms at the neighborhood cookout jealous. Sam (bc let’s be real, that’s the only real co-parent option, wincest or no) would have to put up with a LOT of “You’re so lucky 🙂” comments.

⬆️I am very fond of semi retired SamDean, who are known by Lebanon’s waitresses as a cute “keep to themselves” gay couple. I guess you can throw Dean Jr in there (hopefully named something else). I think the fact that so much of Spn is biology/bloodlines, it's a good thing that they'd have to adopt, magic, or at least be very intentional about how this child comes to be. Which is good, because if that baby looks just like Sam did, prepared or not Dean's getting like 12 new disorders. OR if we're not doing Wincest and Sam's married to some thin thing who popped out Dean Jr. and Dean's the uncle he's always wanted to be, then sure! I think the above stuff works for that, maybe even better bc he can hand the boy back when it gets Too Much. Never forget, it was Bobby John 🥲.

#or if you really did mean the first thing #mommy!dean #in which case uuh. I Have fic recs 😌#they're mostly pregnant omega lol #spn meta #I suppose #Thank you for the question !!!!#I almost always have Thoughts about dean #two and a half men.... Top Ten Episodes

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feen-feet · 1 year

Text

How's this for a new year's resolution: I'll post my list of (mostly) Genshin fic ideas and see if I can knock at least half of them off the list by years end.

List of ideas below the break.

Short fics (1k-5k)

Hollow Stone

Ningguang coping with Keqing's temporary absence

Thought she was the strong one in the relationship, caring for Keqing's vulnerabilities

Now Keqing's away for a bit and Ningguang finds herself miserable and jealous

Corvids

Sara and the Shogun considering crows

Their qualities, and the way people perceive them

Keqing the Conquerer (this is not the final name lol)

Keqing and Jean reunite in Liyue after their time together* in Mondstadt

*Time together = doomed fling

Keqing and Ningguang are together at this point

At the Core (RWBY)

Ruby rescues Penny's core from the arena during the fall of Beacon

Hangs Penny's core from her belt because that's where everything goes lol

They can talk via Ruby's scroll

Follow the two of them on the road as they attempt to track down Yang and her kidnappers (mild post V3 rewrite ideas**)

Icebreaker Chapter 3 (RWBY)

Blake and Weiss get to work on their training commission, despite being badly hungover

Eula and Jean oneshot

Eula and Jean sparring session

Jean's cramped up from too long at her desk, can't fight properly

Eula forces her to undergo a painful therapeutic massage, as 'vengeance'

As usual, Eula's 'vengeance' is actually helpful

Eula/Lisa oneshot

Reading as the sun sets

Almost entirely inspired by this

Sara and Kuki's friendship over the years

Meet at the shrine, reconnect later, bond over mutual inability to fit in

Long fics (10k+)

Tidal Forces

Mona, post the fountain incident

Fears reprisal from Jean, worries about her unstuck place in the world

Bothered by Fischl, seeks advice from Albedo

A Sextant's Narrow View

Mona is down bad for Jean, makes a fool of herself in front of her repeatedly

Eula/Lisa, Post-Drunk Eula

Eula wakes up in Lisa's quarters, unsure how she got there

They talk and connect as Eula recovers over the day / hides out from anyone who might have seen her

Eula knows Lisa is kind and non-judgemental, wants some of that affection

Lisa admires Eula's unwavering good heart, despite everything she faces

Kindred Spirits

Keqing's trip to Mondstadt, where she meets and falls for a dashing Master of Knights

Inevitabilities

Mona and Jean struggle with their fears for each other

Yae adopts Sara AU

The Youkai are dwindling, Yae's lonely for her own kind (will not admit this)

Yae has a glimpse of Sara's future - a honed, powerful weapon for the Shogun, but almost entirely severed from her Tengu roots

She chooses to employ (raise) her at the shrine instead, show her what it is to be a Youkai

Basically lonely Yae & feisty teenage Sara dealing with supernatural threats to Inazuma, Light Novel Shonen Action

Kuki stumbles on Sara's secret and interesting adventures at the shrine, decides to stick around this time

Get Itto in there somewhere too, why not

Beidou adopts Bennett

Finds out about his curse, relates too hard

Takes him under her wing to attempt to prove that he isn't cursed

(He is cursed)

**Basically; after the fall and Yang's injury, Raven kidnaps her in a fit of motherly instinct. She helps Yang recover as she tries to rope Yang into her scheme to steal the Relic of Knowledge – doesn't have much of a plan past that beyond wanting to burn most of the current order down. Yang spends some time getting to know her mother as an adult, working through her own anger, finding she can relate to her mother's anger but can't get on board with her plan and has to find a way to thwart it, also meanwhile there's a whole arc where Weiss returns home but finds herself semi-trapped and SDC returning to its uglier history under her father's leadership, she needs help, maybe from someone familiar with social uprisings and SDC security systems, a certain cat-eared Faunus, maybe they kiss I've spent too much time thinking about RWBY to escape brain worms like this I'm sorry

#fanfic #fanfic ideas #new years resolution #genshin impact #jeanmona #qingguang #jeanqing #sarashogun #RWBY #monochrome #nuts and dolts #I know having lots of options is a good thing but every time I look at this list I get intimidated lol

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mindsmade · 8 months

Note

home - aeren pulls sh closer until sh’s face rests in the crook of aeren’s neck

@weaveshadows / meme

The terror rarely ceases these days, but Aerendyl can find reprieve from them here and there. In a way, he's stumbled upon one such occasion tonight — and then silently retreated from it. That moment by the statue of Selûne was meant for Shadowheart and her parents, and he can only feel glad to have played some part in bringing them together at all, circumstances be damned.

He stands now in the abandoned chapel bordering their camp, casting a cursory glance at the broken statues, the ruined pews lying about, and the flickering candle flames every now and again. He spent a minute or two leaning against the altar before his thoughts veered elsewhere — away from the Hallowleaf family, their reunion and the aftermath they're faced with now, and towards that of his own.

In the absence of distractions, he thinks of the letter etched into his memory. His mother's sloppy handwriting was and is unmistakable, but that what it described bemuses him still. Aerendyl briefly dwells on the initial relief he'd felt upon receiving it, thinking her safe after all, indeed, but the lack of sense in her words swiftly whittles that sensation down to mild despair.

The answer as to why she'd chosen to reunite with his father now, after that momentous fall-out decades ago, eludes him. Their impromptu reunion said to only be lacking his presence might have induced unbridled elation in his ten-year-old self, but his present-day skepticism wins out every time he meditates on the matter.

Something is wrong. His first thought always leads to Orin playing games; his second leads to those accursed tadpoles. There are no alternatives — even if he tries to fool himself into thinking his paranoia's getting the better of him at last, and he can simply no longer recognise a good thing when he sees it. Reconciliation between those two was never an option.

Aerendyl snaps out of his thoughts and reaches a standstill amidst his pacing as the heavy wooden door creaks. He forgets what he was thinking about for a while, and he's all too content with that. There's a welcome distraction in studying what he soon recognises as Shadowheart's silhouette against the backdrop of moonlight pouring in.

❛ I hope my leaving didn't cause any offence. I thought the moment best kept between you three. ❜ He remains stock still in the middle of the aisle for another moment, briefly wringing his hands. By the time his hands fall to his side, Shadowheart's already within arm's reach.

'Are you all right?' Somehow, it takes until the second echo of her words in this vaulted building for him to register it. They form a simple question with a complicated answer, for he's beyond pleased to see Shadowheart reunited with their family ( despite any initial unease ). They have a future with each other in it now, and something to fight the Elder Brain that much more fiercely for.

But Aerendyl finds himself hoping the same might lie in his future, yet fears – expects – he will see any possibility for it shatter before his eyes.

❛ I'm not sure. Are you? ❜ He won't lie to her, and he expects she'll offer him the same courtesy. They're both navigating troubled waters now, even if the directions of the tides they sail vary all too greatly.

The absence of an instant answer begs a change of tactic. Perhaps not everything needs to be put into words; some things can simply be felt, rather than discussed. But he wishes to share and partake in the resolution of what ails them both, even if it proves only to be a temporary reprieve — and so he reaches out, his right hand to their left, and pulls them his way.

Close, closer, closest — until they come together and he can snake his arms about her, coaxing her into resting her head in the crook of his neck. A sigh flees him as he rests his chin atop her head and languidly starts thumbing her shoulder blade beneath his hand. The other seeks refuge at the base of her head, right where it meets her nape.

He drinks in the comfort of their embrace, registering every point of contact. His chin to their hair, their breath fanning across his collarbone, the gentle ( yet somehow urgent ) press of their arms along his shoulders and neck — all rousing a sense of connection he feels more at home in than he can describe.

The faintest smile touches upon his lips as he shuts his eyes, pondering the solace that's draped itself across him ( and hopefully across Shadowheart, too ) like a warm blanket. ❛ Well, I do feel much better for having you here, for what it's worth. ❜

#weaveshadows #query / ic.#❛ thread / aerendyl.#under the cut bc it's a lil long ... the scene setting got out of hand!#sorry abt that KSDFKS #anyway who doesn't love a comforting hug?!?!!!

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redstringraven · 8 months

Note

For the OC Ask Game I don’t know much about Cassia or Ash, so could you answer #20 for Cassia and #23 for Ash? owo

i absolutely will and i adore you so much for asking about them, thank you!! c:> !!

oc ask game

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20) a nostalgic memory from your OC’s childhood? (cassia)

the first trip she ever got to go on with her mom and her dad, hands down. i think i've mentioned in passing that cassia's father, oliver, is a train conductor. he's often out of town due to this, but he calls very regularly at night, so he can talk to both cassia and esme (her mom) before they go to bed. when she was old enough that she'd be able to appreciate sight-seeing and experiencing new places, meeting new people, oliver and esme decided to make a little trip out of his occupation. while she doesn't remember all of the details, cassia has fond memories of getting to see new towns, watching landscapes pass by, talking with various passengers alongside her father and getting to hear their stories, and the constant rumble of the train lulling her to sleep. she doesn't get to relive this memory often, as esme is very high-anxiety (especially after the triceraton invasion), but cassia will always treasure the magic and whimsy that came with getting on her first train, getting to see her dad's "workspace", and getting a small taste of just how big the world really is.

23) what are your OC’s biggest flaws and biggest strengths? (ash)

so SPEAKING of anxiety-- ash is a very high-anxiety/fear person, which means that she also tends to be a very pessimistic person. she worries a lot, she often expects and anticipates the worst, and she can be a little dependent on gwyn when it comes to making decisions (like, beyond the fact that she's the one trapped in an inanimate object). i guess her biggest flaw in 'present' is that, despite still being sentient and conscious in the shapeshifting weapon she's in, she considers herself dead and doesn't expect a resolution. gwyn is the one clinging to optimism and hope--the idea that she'll find a way to get ash's spirit/soul/consciousness out of the weapon and into a new body. ash... has quietly accepted her death... but she's given up on arguing with gwyn over this for gwyn's sake. as for strengths, ash is often five steps ahead of the immediate problem (the 'plus side' of expecting the worst) and vigilant/aware of solutions or escape methods should gwyn--or those around her--need them. she can be quite analytical, good at troubleshooting as well as piecing together tidbits of information and conversation she's overheard when people thought she wasn't listening (leaning into the fact that to 90% of the people she and gwyn meet, she's just a dagger in a sheath; most people never realize she's sentient). she's very good of keeping track of resources and getting priorities in line. ash is also just... loyal. there were many times 'disowning' gwyn throughout their childhood would have benefited her or helped her status in the community, but she never did.

#tmnt oc #tmnt 2003 oc #;tmnt oc: aislinn #;tmnt oc: cassia dubois #;meme: oc ask game #[ my hobbies include loving cassia and crying into my hands about ash semi-daily ]#[ thank you again ;u; ]#;letters

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eldritchstarclan · 1 year

Text

Brambleclaw And The Code

Brambleclaw was intended to be a caring father and mate in canon, but turned out abusive due to poor work on the Erins’ part.

His personality turned out rather bland, like many of the male protagonists of Warriors, leaving him adrift in a sea of different depictions and discourse.

He is so close to being something, but simply isn’t.

Then where does that put him in Eldritch StarClan AU?

Well, his one trait is how people go “oh wow! He looks like Tigerstar! Scary!”, and how he wants to step out of that shadow, despite following his father around like a lost puppy as an apprentice.

So I decided to lean on his fear of being his father a little more, and to take out some of the ground under his feet.

When Bramble is made into an apprentice, rather than being taken on by Fireroot (who is a medic anyway), he is taken on by Bluestar.

Bluestar was the previous mentor of Tigerclaw, and when Tigerclaw turns against her, that stress is put onto Bramblepaw tenfold, due to not only his resemblance to his father, but also Bluestar feeling the need to ‘set things right’ where she couldn’t before.

Bluestar grows incredibly strict, and he’s taught less and less about battle, and more about the warrior code. She is harsh on him, causing his training to be much more of an obstacle.

Tawny urges him to escape Thunderclan with her, insisting they will only be seen as their father’s children, and that within ShadowClan, there might be resolve for them, even if it means being with their father. Bramblepaw— who has grown to despise his father— is disgusted Tawny would suggest such a thing, and refuses.

After Bluestar dies, Bramblepaw comes to feel he simply isn’t good enough, and is harder and harder on himself. The code becomes incredibly important to him, but there’s one thing that he is truly unable to break, even moreso than the rest of the code.

He could not kill anyone, even if he needed to.

Obviously, this sounds like a bump in the road when it comes to TNP; he must kill Hawkfrost, right?

But actually, Brightstar is the one to finish him. This scars Brambleclaw, causing him to become even more resolute in avoiding murder.

Still, he is praised for rescuing the leader, and is assigned the role of deputy.

In PO3, he imprints the importance of the code into the three— but Holly ESPECIALLY. She admires her father greatly, and probably even gets called his little ‘shadow’, as she tends to follow him around camp as a kit, watching him perform his duties. It is endearing, although it often results in Hollykit hearing the arguments between him and Squirrel.

Now... his devotion to the code doesn’t come back until he discovers what Hollyleaf has done.

When he discovers his daughter— his DAUGHTER— murdered Ashfur, he doesn’t know about Ashfur burning down the gathering island.

All he knows is that he’s worked so hard to distance himself from the violent legacy of his father, and the daughter he loves so dearly has UNDONE that. He will surely only be the son of a murder— the father of a murderer—

At the gathering island, this comes to a climax when he yells at Holly for what she’s done. The crime of killing a Clanmate is unforgivable without the context of what Ashfur had done, so she is chased into the tunnels.

After this, he is estranged from his family, and his position is taken from him.

Jayfeather and Lionblaze are furious, refusing to talk to him. Squirrelflight, finally fed up, breaks up with him. Tawnypelt, who had discovered why Holly had murdered him due to Holly confessing, is horrified that he would oust her like that.

Brightstar reprimands his brash actions and his lack of restraint in dealing with this, as it should have been a private clan matter before being announced, and tells him his temper makes him unfit to be a leader, revoking his title as deputy.

He is left to think of his actions.

Brambleclaw is a incredibly bland character in canon, but I believe that given the right spin, he can be intriguing, preserving his flaws while giving the characters around him the power to impose consequences.

#tl;dr: to counteract the lack of real problems in canon he has been given so many new ones #including but not limited to: divorce. impostor syndrome. constant consciousness of his father’s sins. and much more.#don’t worry I’m not cleansing his own sins i’m just making him a lil more pathetic #brambleclaw #eldritch starclan au #eldritch lore #tommy's art vault

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snowdice · 2 years

Text

Best Laid Plans (Part 6/8: Following a Van) [Sometimes Labels Shift Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Virgil & Logan, Virgil & Patton, Virgil & Roman, Logan/Patton

Characters:

Main: Virgil, Roman

Appear: Logan, Patton

Mentioned: Remy, Emile, Janus, Remus

Summary:

Virgil (now) Sanders was once a villain vigilante kid down on his luck. After being injured helping the superhero Bluebird, he ended up being adopted by him and his husband. Logan and Patton Sanders helped Virgil in ways he didn’t even know he needed. Since then, he’s put away his persona of Shadow Caster, the strange, hard to label, super who haunted the city for a few years. Instead he’s opted for being a normal teenager and university student.

But while Logan and Patton often forgot in the midst of ice cream and movie nights and arguments about silly little things who he had been, he never had. And when worst comes to worst, Virgil will be willing to reach for a mask once again despite his fathers’ wishes and expectations.

Sometimes even the best laid plans fail.

Thanks to @bilgisticallykosher, @kiapet2, and ASmallForest (on discord) for being betas!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

They landed on the top of the bridge with a surprisingly light clink. The bridge only shuddered lightly, which was all that Virgil could hope for from the rusted old thing. Prince set him on his feet immediately. The trip up had been fast and painless, but Virgil much preferred being flown up places via Logan’s powers to being carried up like that.

“He’s definitely been up here,” Prince said, looking around as Virgil stepped away. Virgil glanced around at the empty area in confusion.

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“Bluebird has little, what I call, ‘bird nests’ all over the city. They’re usually pretty secluded but have a good view of things. I know about some of them, but not all of them.”

He pointed a thumb in the direction of the newer bridge.

“This one has a view of the major interstate into town,” he said. “And there, a bit in the distance is the trainyard. It’s a good middle spot.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “It makes sense one of the ‘bird nest’ things would be here, but how do you know for sure that it’s one?”

Prince leaned over and tapped on a wall. A compartment in the side popped open.

“Basic medical supplies and snacks,” said Prince. “He keeps all of them fully stocked at all times, just in case.”

“Of course, he does,” Virgil said with a headshake and small smile. “So, between the tracker and knowing that, this is almost certainly the last place he was.”

Prince nodded.

“Now, people might notice if we have light up here for too long,” Virgil pointed out, already raising his hand anyway.

“They probably will,” Prince agreed.

“So, let’s look fast.” With that, he let light flicker to life in his palm.

The light made one thing immediately apparent.

“Fuck,” said Virgil. “That’s blood.”

It wasn’t a lot, not to the point where Virgil was worried Logan had died here, but enough that Virgil was worried Logan had been injured here and dragged off somewhere to be killed. He resolutely swallowed those fears and the emotions associated with them.

“I don’t think it's just his,” Prince said, pointing.

There was another blood splatter on one of the ledges leading to the little base at the top of the bridge. It was smaller, but it was also right above what was clearly a missing piece of metal.

Prince and Virgil looked down, down into the rushing water.

“So more than one person, then,” Virgil surmised. Whoever that was had almost certainly gone into the water unless they[,] too[,] could fly. “That’s good.”

“Why is that good?” Prince asked skeptically.

“One person could disappear,” Virgil said. “Any more than that and they almost certainly made a mistake somewhere. We just have to find it.”

Virgil had once been terrified of heights. He still was a bit, but having a father that could catch him easily no matter how high he fell from had helped him calm down about it over the years. Logan had even taken him flying a few times. Virgil used that control over his fear to take a step out onto the metal beam that led to the bloodied metal beam. Logan might not be here, but he was still the reason Virgil was able to ignore his anxiety over the height.

“What are you doing?!” Prince asked.

“Looking for clues.”

“Weren’t you the one worried about this thing crashing to the ground a couple of seconds ago?”

“That’s before I found blood in the last known location of Bluebird.”

That shut up Prince.

Virgil could put together what had happened out on these beams. Whoever had stood here had been on the beam below, which was now doubtlessly in the water. He must have taken Logan by surprise and Logan must have pulled the beam out from under him, sending him down. It looked like whoever it was had had their head slammed against a beam above them.

Virgil looked around carefully. He’d always been good at those find-the-difference games as a kid. He thought it was probably the anxiety.

After a couple of seconds, he noticed a small, far too shiny piece of metal within the more rusted pieces of metal. It was laying very precariously on one of the beams a few feet away and below him.

He considered it for a moment, and then solidified one of his shadows enough to carefully wrap around it. He used the shadow to bring the small piece of metal into the little hideout next to Prince.

“Don’t touch that,” he warned.

Prince gave an insulted noise. “I know.”

Virgil ignored him, choosing to put most of his focus on where his feet were going. He slipped back into the more structurally sound area with a breath of relief.

Then, he shined a light on the piece of metal sitting on the floor between him and Prince.

Prince knelt down to look at it more closely. “Bullet casing,” he said, “but it’s a weird one.”

“Weird how?”

“I know what most commercially manufactured bullets look like,” he said. “This one looks custom-made. Can you use your shadows to roll it over?”

“Sure.”

“It’s a weird shape too,” Prince mused. He paused for a long moment, thinking while staring at the bullet. “It’s not quite the same, but it does remind me of a bullet casing found in the house of a missing woman named Brenda Young about 6 months ago.”

Virgil frowned. “How on Earth would you know that?”

Prince shrugged. “I hang around the police station sometimes.”

“And they just let you eavesdrop on their case?” Virgil asked.

“I didn’t say they let me do anything,” Prince replied, amused. “The reason it stood out to me was, first because all of the cops were confused about where the bullet had came from, and second because there was circumstantial evidence that Brenda Young may have been the vigilante Ice Hornet.”

“The one that went mysteriously missing from the scene 6 months ago?” Virgil asked.

“Bit of coincidence, huh?” Prince said, looking at the bullet and the blood splatter on the floor.

“Her thing was water manipulation,” Virgil contemplated.

“Yep.”

“That’s close to telekinesis.”

“It’s very close to telekinesis,” Prince said, supporting Virgil’s suspicions.

“Well, that’s worrying,” Virgil said, pinching his brow.

“She hasn’t turned up dead yet,” Prince offered.

“That doesn’t mean she’s alive,” Virgil said, “and it certainly doesn’t mean she’s okay.”

“Hmm,” Prince said. “They only found one bullet casing at Young’s house, under a couch. However, there were clear signs that more than one bullet had been fired, but almost all of the casings had been cleaned up. The police thought there were at least 3 shooters. Think they’d bring fewer people for Bluebird?”

“Never in a million years,” said Virgil.

“So, at least 3 or 4 people and one fully grown unconscious man,” Prince said. “They probably had a car. Maybe a big car.”

“Or a boat,” Virgil pointed out.

“Or a boat,” Prince agreed, “but either way there had to be some vehicle which would be a lot easier to spot than a single person, especially since it doesn’t look like a lot of cars come this way, and a boat docking around here would be strange.”

“Right, okay,” Virgil said, thinking. “That’s a start. Bluebird has access to basically every camera in the city. I’ll check any security cams that would have a view of roads coming in this direction and any that might have a view of the river.”

“And we should check for physical signs of vehicles at the base of the bridge,” Prince suggested.

Virgil nodded. He let Prince pick him up again to jump to the ground. That trip was more anxiety-inducing than the trip up, but he forced himself to recover quickly.

Prince ended up being the one to scan through the camera footage on the computer Logan had in the Birdmobile of Death. Meanwhile, Virgil used his light manipulation powers to closely scan the ground around the base of the bridge and the surrounding areas. Prince joined him after about half an hour.

“I made a list of the vehicles and license plates that any cameras caught coming in this direction. Unfortunately there aren’t many cameras around here, so I had to use some footage of cars that could have come this way, but also may not have. I also jotted down any boats the cameras caught. There aren’t any views of this location, but there are some up and down the river.”

“Okay. I’ve searched all around here and found nothing.” Virgil said.

He looked back up at the bridge with the secret shelter nested in it, trying not to think about the blood on the floor up there.

“Of course…” he said after a long moment. “If I was coming to kidnap someone, I wouldn’t be parking here, especially since Bluebird went missing before or just at dusk.”

Virgil turned away from the river and cast his eyes across the landscape. It was unfortunately very dark, but he could still make out most of the area. He thought for a long moment.

“If I was going to kidnap someone who was up there,” he said, glancing at the bridge, “and I wanted to surround him with the least chance of him seeing me… I’d park there.” He pointed.

There was a group of trees and bushes across the main road. It was pretty much the only area close by with a lot of foliage. The trees and buses hid what was behind them from the road and more importantly from above. It spread out to the left and the right a bit, and probably would still be hard to see through in the light of day because of how dense the vegetation was.

Prince followed the direction he was pointing. “That would be a good place to hide a van,” he agreed.

They had to cross the small road together and walk down into a very overgrown ditch in order to get to the area Virgil had identified, but it was more than worth it, because the second Virgil shined a light across the area, they immediately saw tire tracks. Deep, obvious, tire tracks, because the ground had been just slightly wet.

“Read me that list of cars,” Virgil said.

The tires were from a larger vehicle but didn’t really look large enough to be a truck. A van was their best guess, and lo and behold, there were only three vans that had passed by the cameras Prince had looked at.

One of these vans had a “baby on board” sticker, which didn’t necessarily discount it as a vehicle for kidnapping superheroes, but Virgil and Prince decided to tentatively eliminate it for now. Of the two other vans, one had taken a one-way trip through the area and been caught leaving the area on a camera on the opposite side. The last van, however, had come into the area on one road and then left the same way it came, almost 2 hours later. The time it was missing from the cameras overlapped the time frame during which Bluebird had gone missing.

Both Prince and Virgil agreed: that van was the most suspicious. So Virgil got on Logan’s computer and carefully combed through the database of cameras to see exactly where it had gone. He eventually lost track of it near another, more abandoned area of town, but looking at the map, there weren’t many buildings there. There was just an old factory and some warehouses.

“At least it’s a direction,” Prince said.

Virgil nodded. “I’m suspicious of the factory,” he said. He typed the address of the old factory into a database of online sources for any recent mentions. “There’s a newspaper article about a company buying it a couple of years ago, but they haven’t done anything with it yet.” He glanced at Prince. “At least… nothing on paper.”

“Let’s check it out,” Prince said, and Virgil started the car.

~~~

The drive only took about 10 minutes. One good thing about Logan’s Birdmobile of Death was it was sleek, silent, and dark blue. It made sneaking up on things incredibly easy, especially in the dark. Still, they parked a good distance away from the factory to observe.

“A lot of guards for an abandoned factory,” Prince noted.

He was right. They were a bit hard to spot, but there were a good number of people crawling around the outside of the factory, and Virgil could only assume more on the inside.

“Alright,” Virgil said. “I have a feeling this is the place.”

He glanced at Prince. “Coming in with me?”

“Of course,” Prince said.

They got out of the car.

“I’m going to put shadows around us,” Virgil warned before doing so, making their forms fade into the inky blackness of the night.

They were silent as they snuck closer to the factory. Virgil eyed the place, looking for weaknesses. He tugged Prince’s arm who noiselessly followed him around the side of the building.

There was a smaller side entrance, though it was still guarded. Virgil eyed the guards and his hand went to his waist. He pulled out the electrified baton he’d taken earlier and pressed the button to make electricity spark.

Instead of just the baton lighting up with electricity though, Virgil pushed, and electricity shot out of the tip straight towards the guards. They were down before they even knew they were hit.

Prince turned his head to look at him, clearly shocked. (God, Virgil spent too much time with Patton.)

Virgil shrugged. “Works better than a normal taser.”

“That’s fucking terrifying,” Prince commented, but he didn’t seem too torn up over it. “We should check them for keycards.”

“I can just electricity-manipulate through any doors we need to get through,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, but they might have alarms for things like that,” Prince pointed out. He walked over to one of the unconscious guards and briefly rifled through their front pocket.

“Found one,” he said. “Now, the only question is, are we doing this guns blazing or stealth?”

“Can you do stealth?” Virgil asked.

“Believe it or not,” Prince said, placing a hand over his heart, “stealth is my preferred method.”

“I don’t believe it, given your reputation,” Virgil said, “but okay. I’m better at stealth, so let’s do that.”

He pulled his shadows closer to them again, and Prince swiped the keycard he’d grabbed at the door. The two of them slipped inside.

Luckily, there was no one directly inside the door, though Virgil could hear people moving and speaking a bit down the hall. Without a word, he and Prince decided to move in the opposite direction of the voices.

Despite the building looking very much like an abandoned factory from the outside, from the inside it didn’t look abandoned at all, or even really like a factory anymore. It looked like a cross between a military base and a hospital. The floor was metal, and their footsteps would be very loud if Virgil didn’t know how to use his shadows to muffle them.

It was also fucking huge.

“Wandering around isn’t working,” Virgil breathed after listening and making sure he could hear no one around. “We need a computer, or a map or something.”

“I think we’re going to have to go towards the more populated areas,” Prince said back, just as quietly.

“You’re probably right,” Virgil agreed, gripping the baton.

Prince nodded questioningly at a hallway to the right that went deeper into the building. Virgil nodded once, and they walked that way.

They certainly were walking towards a more populated area, judging by the sounds of people speaking and moving around. They snuck closer and closer, and eventually found the nexus of the activity.

They briefly peeked through the window of a door into a large open room filled with fancy computers, desks, and a bunch of people milling about. The door they were at was not the only one; there were many other doors leading out of the room.

“This place is a fucking maze,” Virgil whispered.

“If we could get to one of those computers, we could probably figure out where they’re keeping Bluebird,” Prince said.

“Yeah, but that’s fucking impossible,” Virgil replied. “They’re crawling all over it like wasps around a nest.”

“It’s not completely impossible,” Prince said, slowly.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, not that Prince could see it. “My shadows wouldn’t work in such a big, lit up area,” he pointed out.

“I can get you to that computer without anyone noticing,” Prince said.

“How exactly can you do that?” Virgil asked.

“You’re not the only one with fancy powers,” Prince said.

“What power related to superstrength is going to make it so no one sees me walk up to a computer and look up where they’re hiding a prisoner?” Virgil asked, taking one more glance into the room. Yep, still full of people.

“Not superstrength,” Prince said. “I have something else. Like I said, stealth is my preferred method. Trust me for this?”

Virgil considered him for a long moment, then nodded decisively.

“Alright,” said Prince. “Come stand at the door.”

Virgil did and felt Prince move to stand behind him. The superhero took a slow breath and then reached out to touch Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil immediately felt something strange, though for some reason not entirely unfamiliar, wash over him. It was like… pineapple flavored jelly with bits of the fruit in it. Except Virgil wasn’t eating it, someone was rubbing it up and down his spine. And it was cold. He didn’t know where he would have felt something like it before, but it still scratched at Virgil’s memories. However, the intensity of the feeling was certainly new.

“Don’t move away from me,” Prince cautioned near his ear, “and be quiet.”

Virgil nodded and Prince pushed at his shoulder, using his grip to guide Virgil to the door. He opened it slowly, and no one turned to look at them. Virgil couldn’t help but be tense as they walked into the light, but no one seemed to pay them any mind.

They walked straight to the computer Prince had indicated before. One of the workers even looked at them briefly and then walked around them without even a flinch. It’s like they saw them, but then immediately threw that knowledge away. Virgil didn’t question it, at least not for now. They had a job to do, and Prince’s steady hand had led him up to the computer. Prince reached over to gently push the person who had been standing at it away, and she walked off to a different computer without comment.

Virgil turned to the computer now in front of him. The person had been logged into the system, which made this a lot easier. Still, finding things on an unfamiliar computer wasn’t simple. They didn’t exactly have a file named “map to prisoners”.

He took a few minutes to search through the computer, anxiety weighing down on him heavier and heavier until he finally found one thing that could possibly indicate where they might be keeping a superhero.

He'd already found a map that was somewhat useful, but it wasn’t labeled with anything that told him where they might be keeping prisoners. It was all just numbers and letters with no key.

However, he then found a live updating chart of the power usage throughout the facility, and one area was using way, way more power. Either they had a nuclear generator in here or they really wanted to keep someone with incredibly strong and precise telekinesis contained.

He brought up the map of the facility he’d stumbled across earlier and matched the label of the room with the highest power usage to the corresponding label on the map. He glanced back at Prince and pointed to the room. Prince nodded, and Virgil took a moment to commit the path they’d need to take, as well as a couple of alternate paths, to memory. Then, he closed everything he’d opened and shot a thumbs up to Prince.

Prince then slowly pulled him away from the computer. At the last moment, Virgil snagged the access card the woman who’d been standing there had left when Roman had pushed her away. Virgil pointed at one of the doors they hadn’t entered through, and Prince walked both of them out of the room hopefully with the correct destination in mind.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 7

Labeled Master Post.

My Masterpost.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #platonic moxiety #platonic analogical #platonic prinxiety #logicality #adriana writes #not pieces fic #labeled universe #sometimes labels shift #best laid plans #past child abuse #past child neglect #implied/referenced torture #blood and injury

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