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silenthillmutual · 4 years

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daniil dankovsky is autistic and here’s why:

because i’m autistic and i said so

i kid, obviously. what sort of autistic person would i be if i wasn’t read to back up my silly little claim with an overly long post of evidence a total of three people will read? (hi ned hi jordan hi raven :))

i’m aware that this is cringey because adults aren’t supposed to have autism or interests or talk about either of those things, but this is my blog and you are free to block me if the cringe is too much for you.

these are some things i picked out from the DSMV’s diagnostic criteria, found on the CDC website:

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

abnormal social approach

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

defecits in […] understand[ing] relationships

difficults adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

repetitive motor movements or speech

rigid thinking patterns

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input

there’s also some misc. stuff not in the diagnostic criteria (though it may be in the adir or gars-3) i thought was worth noting.

important note from the diagnostic criteria: “symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning”. i’d say that in his case, they do.

spoilers for pathologic classic, pathologic 2, and the marble nest

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

in bachelor route of classic, daniil

seems completely oblivious to eva making advances toward him, to the point where she complains to him that he’s ignoring her in favor of asking questions about simon.

seems surprised when people mention maria being in love with him, despite outright asking her a couple of times if she’s flirting with him.

not to mention the fact that he asks her that at all.

his inability or resistence to making connections with others is typically considered one of his character flaws. although it is not outright stated in the dsmv criteria, one trait of autism and other neurodivergencies is “having extremely high or extremely low empathy” - and daniil, despite being a doctor, lacks empathy. which is not to say he doesn’t care at all. i think that he does, but is terrible at showing it.

for example, this scene from marble nest:

Sticky: You must feel terrible… right? That’s fine. I forgive you. You just got confused… Adults always do. Daniil: Oh yes, adults are always occupied with the most asinine nonsense. Like feeling anxious that a bunch of urchins keep roaming the streets, putting themselves in mortal danger!

daniil clearly cares about sticky’s wellbeing (and the wellbeing of the kids looking after him, though he’s not cognizant that he’s in a coma), but his way of showing it is… kind of by being a jerk. all of which bleeds into the next item on the list

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

he has no problem sharing his interests, but in both pathologic classic & pathologic 2, daniil speaks with a flat affect - which is to say that he lacks intonation. the words we read him saying may be dramatic or come across as passionate, but the actual voice reading his lines is very monotone, which may contribute to being read as lacking emotion.

and in pathologic 2, he has a voiceline lamenting not telling “her” (eva?) how he felt

in marble nest, he’s teased by the tragedians for being “heartless”:

Tragedian: Maybe. Possibly. But it’s useless to explain to a heartless man. …Take heart, Excellency! If you ever find it, that is. And then come back to us… Even though it all sounds like a rather implausible turn of events.

abnormal social approach

daniil has a tendency to say things that are tactless, odd, or just socially inappropriate. i probably don’t need to point out too many examples, as i think it’s fairly obvious - these are the things people love to pick at when it comes to him, but i do have a few in mind. like, for example, from haruspex route in classic:

Haruspex: What of the antibodies essential for making a serum? Bachelor: I don’t know for sure yet, I’ll send you a report in a few hours. Don’t go about cutting people’s hearts out for your panacea until then. It’s a… controversial solution, you know… Haruspex: What?! Do you even hear yourself? Bachelor: Sorry! I meant no offence… it was just a momentary lapse of… well, you know. Haruspex: None taken.

until artemy points out, daniil doesn’t seem to be aware he just said something rude. even with therapy, picking up on social cues doesn’t come naturally to people with autism, so we tend to say things that come across as rude or strange to others without realizing we’ve put them off. we tend to lack a “filter” that tells us when things are or are not appropriate to say. even when we may recognize it, the rules may not make any sense to us. for example, it makes very little sense that allistics favor politeness over honesty.

i think the glaringly obvious abnormal social approach in pathologic 2 is him threatening to hold artemy at gunpoint to get in the house, which is just overkill, but my personal favorite comes on day 7, when he’s complaining about the orders aglaya has given him. artemy stops him to say he doesn’t understand what daniil wants from him, to which daniil replies:

From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

to daniil, they were just having a normal conversation. but some part of this - his tone or his words or maybe even his body language - didn’t give artemy the impression that this was supposed to be a regular conversation. (we could, in fact, attribute the same idea to artemy here; why didn’t artemy pick up that this was a normal conversation? the reason i count it towards daniil is because artemy doesn’t seem to have this problem with anybody else. for the record: i don’t think artemy is neurotypical either.)

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

it’s hard to get proof of this in video games, but i will say i think it’s very funny that in pathologic 2 daniil’s idle animations are “pacing”, “sitting like he desperately wants to start bouncing his knees but is stopping himself from doing it”, and “standing unnaturally still” - but there you go. i don’t know anything about making gifs, or i’d gif this one specific talk menu idle he does where he holds eye contact for about three seconds, looks away uncomfortably, and then looks back out of the corner of his eyes.

deficits in […] understand[ing] relationships

mostly examples from his route in classic:

when the army arrives, he can claim to block that aglaya, whom he’s known for two days, is his best friend

he seems baffled by the fact that everone is smitten with maria and working with her, and seems equally baffled by the idea that she’s smitten with him

despite eva implying on day two that she is in a relationship with andrey, is completely blindsided by the revelation on day 6, asking him, “How in the world is she ‘your woman’?”

i’d also like to use his sign-off on his letter to artemy, day 2 of the haruspex route - he signs it as “Your friend (hopefully)”. i know i’m not the only autistic person who used to ask people if we were friends or not. pro tip, if you’ve never done this: don’t. it really weirds people out.

difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

the fact that he stands out is blatantly obvious even in pathologic 2 and in the haruspex route of classic. people will comment on him being an outsider and mention that they don’t trust him. but you can watch it happen in real time in his route, because he never fully acclimates to the town. he says something about this to aglaya on day 7:

Bachelor: Was there any particularly notable backstory? I’m deadly tired of all these people. They’re inhuman. They tell the future, believe in walking zombies, and die in all manners of painfully abnormal ways. Inquisitor: Your line of t hinking is obviously falacious - and I was implying something rather mundane. I promise you, no one can really tell the future around here: and neither are deaths inspired by third parties uncommon. Mysterious phenomenons do occur here sometimes… but hardly more often than anywhere else.

actually, there’s an example of him saying something similar to artemy on day 5 in pathologic 2:

Damn this town… I feel I’m trapped in a nightmare. The absurdity of it all… There’s no one to talk to. Everyone’s so volatile. They all seem to want to help, but… their help is worse than hostility.

some of this can be explained by the town’s strangeness, but keep in mind that the first instance happens after he’s been there and involved in the ongoing for an entire week, and the second at nearly a week in. clearly he’s struggling to adjust to the changes.

it’s also worth noting that his reason for fleeing the town in the nocturnal ending?

I have no place here anymore.

This town is no longer mine. No longer human. No longer rational. It doesn’t… accept the likes of me anymore.

repetitive motor movements or speech

it’s harder to see the motor movements in classic, but remember how i pointed out earlier that he paces? pacing is a form of stimming. murky, who is canonically autistic, can also be found pacing as one of her idle animations. having stock phrases for characters to speak when you come near them already ticks off the box on “repetitive speech”, but that by itself doesn’t really cover what they’re talking about - echolalia.

but you know what this does fit with? “‘quoting’ things(communication is HARD! sometimes we need to take shortcuts and use someone else’s words)“

i’ll get to the more obvious example in a minute - i want to point out something that happens very early in pathologic 2 first. you know how you first meet him and artemy accuses daniil of trying to guilt-trip him by asking if it’s true that isidor would still be alive if artemy had come sooner? keep in mind that he spoke to rubin first. and this is what rubin says, when you get a chance to talk to him:

Yesterday, I was told you had killed your father.

That’s not far from the truth, Burakh.

You betrayed him. You left when he needed you most. He cried out for your help, but you didn’t care. He was in peril, and you were too busy elsewhere, He believed, truly believed, that your arrival would put an end to his troubles. And, as always, he was right.

i’m not saying this was necessarily the game’s intent, but it’s entirely possible daniil is parroting back to artemy exactly what rubin said to him.

now, for what you’re probably expecting in this section: the latin. people love to refer to his use of latin as “random”, so let’s clear that up:

it is not latin daniil has made up. with the exception of latin that is mispelled in the game’s texts, all of them are proverbs or otherwise common sayings. you can find most of them on the wikipedia list of latin phrases, or through a 3-second google search.

he’s a doctor. him having taken latin isn’t anymore strange than a lawyer taking latin. in fact, if you pay attention, artemy also took latin; this is implied when artemy tells him he’s always sucked at it.

his uses of latin actually aren’t random at all. what he says fits the situation, and sometimes is used in place of him having to come up with something to say on his own.

prime example:

Forget it, Burakh. I have a splitting headache. If you have no urgent business, then we’ll talk later. Later, later… Qui non proficit, deficit.

qui non proficit, deficit - he who does not advance, loses ground. in other words, “i’m sorry, but i really do need to keep working.” one of his voice lines.

as for why he doesn’t translate the latin: it probably wouldn’t even occur to him to. these are not obscure sayings. the utopians all have a certain degree of education - what would he need to translate them for?

this bleeds into something that isn’t really mentioned, but that i’ve found i have a lot of trouble with in everyday life. autistic people have a tendency to either overexplain (and then have everyone get mad at you because they feel you’re being condescending) or underexplain (and have everyone get mad at you because you haven’t explained anything). the latin would be a case where it feels like a justified underexplanation. you’ll notice that when it comes to anything scientific, he tends to do the reverse, and overexplain. this also happens in classic, whether artemy has asked him to clarify or not.

rigid thinking patterns

the thing i had marked for this was simply his strict adherence to western medical practices and refusal to acknowledge the supernatural, even when it seems obvious - he has a conversation in his route in classic with yulia about this, and that is in fact how he manages to get to her: by asking saburov if there are any other logical skeptics in town. it should be noted they seem to be breaking with this in pathologic 2, where one of his voicelines is “I’m no positivist. There are things in this world beyond our mundane perception.” i have no idea where they’re planning on going with that.

there’s also a quote floating somewhere around twitter about him having been raised by a military man, and militaries tend to enforce very rigid routines. you could say the same thing of block - who (in classic at least) i also have my suspicions about.

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

special interests. the one that should obviously come to mind is thanatology, though i would argue latin if not classics in general is a special interest of his as well - in addition to his usage of latin, he also references pericles in the marble nest and was probably refering to the roman occupation of haruspicy in addition to augurs in the same text. he also makes references to shakespeare more than once in both marble nest and pathologic 2.

hyper- or hyperoreactivity to sensory input

i don’t have much written down for this one but there seem to be several places in classic especially where he asks npcs to stop shouting at him. we don’t really have the privilege to know their volume or how they’re interacting with him, but i think it’s also worth noting that he’s the only one of the healers who wears gloves. in pathologic 2 he’s the only named character i can think of who wears them at all. his thing in the lucid dream about the brain being “a border”? gloves are his border, as is his jacket, which may be worn to cut down on sensory issues.

he will also sometimes seem to “overreact” to the situation at hand - such as in classic, when some dogheads mispeak and say that daniil is going to “sterilize” them, and instead of understanding that they must have mispoken, freaks out over the idea that they think they’re going to be… well… sterilized. or in haruspex route, when his reaction to the inquisitor arriving is to threaten suicide.

miscellaneous

he never goes anywhere without that carpet bag. we don’t see it in pathologic 2, but we do hear about it and he doesn’t let it go for a second in classic - not even in the cutscenes where he’s using the microscope. his bag could be a comfort item.

“getting very attached to things like inanimate objects” could work for the bag - but you know what it actually fits the bill much more obviously? the polyhedron. in the haruspex route he recognizes that it’s a lost cause, but he’s still too attached to it to let it go.

in classic at least, daniil is absolutely terrible at lying. most autistic people either are not good at lying, or feel uncomfortable or anxious with having to lie. when he’s asked by yulia and the kids in the polyhedron to lie to block (for different reasons) he’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea that it’ll work. and when it actually comes time to come up with a way to lie to block about why he needs five rifles, your options are to either buckle and tell him the truth, or simply say that you need them for “self-defense”. block believes that you’re not lying to him, but daniil can’t come up with any embeleshments to explain why he needs what he’s asking for.

Commander: Are you hiding something from me? Bachelor: No.

he comes across as naive to other characters. in classic, capella has a voiceline saying, “The Bachelor is not smart. Intelligent, yes… but not smart.” in Pathologic 2, Daniil complains that Aglaya takes him for “a useless dreamer”. he’s also easily used by the Kains to fulfill their endgame in classic.

my final, and absolute favorite: he takes things way too literally. autistic people (and adhd people, from my understanding) have a hard time differentiating jokes and sarcasm. so my favorite moment in marble nest is a case of him taking that earlier advice - to “take heart” literally, by bringing the tragedians a literal human heart:

Tragedian: Oh… Excellency. What a sordid sight! Sorry for underestimating you. You definitely do have… how shall I put it… a creative touch. But this is pure madness. You can’t take things so literally! Daniil: You wanted me to come back to you with an open heart. Well, here I am. …It looked too fitting to be a coincidence.

your mind map, after this, updates to say “I misunderstood the tragedians.”

conclusion

people don’t stop being autistic with age and i think he’s a good example of what it’s like to be in your late 20s and be autistic. i’m sure i missed things as i haven’t finished haruspex route of classic yet and there may just be some other things he does or says that i missed! if anyone has anything to add they think fits i would love to know, thank you for your time :)

#icarus.txt #autistic daniil dankovsky #daniil dankovsky #pathologic meta #ok to rb but i'm not interest in your ''but he's just weird!'' arguments #please keep in mind that this post is about autism #and that this is written by someone w autism...#popular

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onlysarah235678 · 3 years

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A Little Bit Part 8

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: So here is a break from the death. Just a little dog fluff, annoying people, and flowers and lube as promised. Thanks for reading 😊. Also special thank you to illuminated-blue for helping me figure out what gifs I wanted and then making them for me again (and for listening to me rant today). You’re the best ❤

Warnings: annoying people, brief mention of blood/wound cleaning, and slight dog aggression/distress.

The next day at work you feel like you’re floating you’re so happy. Everything is going well so far with appointments, and you’ve seen at least three happy, healthy puppies today. Not even the reporter waiting for you outside your building this morning could bring your mood down. You and Milo had just waltzed right by them to your car because you were determined to make it through this day unscathed. At least up until you went to Billie’s house.

The two of you had decided that you should come over because then Billie wouldn’t have to worry about the cats being left with the sitter. You felt bad for Heather who always seemed to be watching them, and Billie most likely wouldn’t be able to see you until after dinner time. The teen probably had better things to do than watch kittens all night. Even though they were adorable.

Speaking of cats, you look to your schedule and see that it’s changed a little. You take a minute to review the new client’s information before running up to your desk to finish up some notes while you had the chance. They should be here soon if they were in fact on time.

Claire smiles as she arrives at the clinic with her cat. She shuts the door behind her after grabbing the meowing cat in the back seat. She had specifically taken the day off so she could get her cat’s vaccines updated. Fridays were ideal because they were usually the busiest at the pet store. That’s why she’d picked today. She didn’t want to work. She also had wanted to make sure you’d be here, and that she could schedule an appointment with you. That was the real reason why Claire had taken today off of work.

She hadn’t seen you since running into you and Milo at that bar and that was too long for her liking. That meeting hadn’t gone the way she’d wanted so she was going to try again. She also had never gotten the chance to see you in your element, and she was way too excited for this opportunity today.

As Claire walked in through the front door, she immediately looked around for you, but came up empty. She turned to the blonde at the front desk with a half-smile.

“Hi, I’m here with Jonesy. I have an appointment with Dr. Y/L/N.”

You had never bothered to learn Claire’s last name. However, after being harassed by the brunette numerous times, you’d think that you’d want to have that sort of information. Unfortunately, you realize your mistake too late, and you walk into the exam room with Claire and her cat only to be completely blindsided. Dammit.

You barely hold back the urge to groan as you allow your professional persona to take over. You stomp down your personal feelings toward the brunette for probably the umpteenth time since you’d met her.

“Hi, Claire. Good to see you.”

For fuck’s sake. You had to stop saying that to her.

The exam went pretty well. Claire’s cat was a little shit for some of it, but he wasn’t the worst you’ve had to deal with. You’re at the point where you just need to get samples on him, but you have a feeling that you’ll need a little help. At the end of the exam, Jonesy got a little feisty and not too keen with being poked. For this reason, you asked the assistant helping you, Maria to go get another person to lend a hand, but Claire spoke up before she could leave. They exchange an uncomfortable look before you manage to cut the tension by smiling and effectively shutting Claire down.

“Don’t think you can handle little old Jonesy, Dr. Y/L/N?”

Maria’s jaw drops and you remind yourself to be a professional as you just laugh slightly instead of rolling your eyes.

“Not at all. I just want to make sure that no one gets hurt and that Jonesy is as least stressed as possible.”

Jonesy was very stressed. He hadn’t wanted any of the baby food that was offered and it took two holders wrapping him in a towel to keep him still. You pulled his blood easily enough, despite him having old cat veins that were practically non-existent, but there was no way in hell you were going to be able to get pee on him with how he was squirming.

As you did your job, you pretended not to notice Claire’s eyes on you. It was unsettling to say the least, but you weren’t going to call her out on it and let your assistants know that you’re tense. Well, you were all tense because Jonesy was getting pissed off.

You finish up quickly and pull out the needle from Jonesy’s leg, but you have to hold it for a moment to make sure his blood clots. That’s when he claws you with the nails you hadn’t gotten around to trimming yet. Maria had lifted her hand off of his leg like she was supposed to, and Jonesy took that opportunity to claw the shit out of your hand.

“Oww, okay! Let. Go.”

You pull Jonesy’s nail out of the back of your hand as carefully as possible before dropping his foot back onto the table. You used the towel wrapped around him to wipe up the blood that was already pooling before you go to grab the nail trimmers.

“Are you okay?”

You nod before grabbing the first paw with dagger-like nails. Jonesy of course hates it, but you finish quickly enough and manage to get out of there before Claire says anything too inappropriate. First thing you do is go to treatment and grab some gauze and disinfectant to put on your cut. It was still bleeding and you hiss in pain as you scrub it clean. This one is going to hurt like a bitch for a while.

Once done you wave your hand to dry it off before returning to pharmacy. You are about to start writing up Jonesy’s note when Maria comes out of the room you’d just been in with an uncertain look.

“Dr. Y/L/N. She has another question for you.”

You hold in your sigh before you nod and head back into the exam room. Hopefully this goes quickly.

Billie Dean was on lunch when you texted her about Claire. She had been working non-stop since she arrived to the studio at 6 this morning. She was ready for a break long enough to finish a cigarette because she was long overdue for one. She was grateful that Michelle had gotten her lunch and had it waiting for her once she finished her most recent episode. She only had one left to get to, and she was excited to be done. Even though it would definitely take the rest of the day.

After re-recording was done for the season, she was going back on television and radio to promote it. The thought made Billie exhausted, but she had to admit it would be nice to leave this studio for the next one. She had a television interview scheduled for next week, and she had already decided to talk to you about it beforehand.

There was no doubt in Billie Dean’s mind that the interviewer would ask her about her relationship with Y/N. She couldn’t just sit there and dodge it, well she could, but it would be too obvious. She needed to figure out where you both stood with your relationship. It was something she’d have to mention tonight when you came over.

Billie had to stop herself from smiling at the thought of what tonight would bring. You had agreed to come over, and you had even offered to cook. Billie wasn’t very good in the kitchen despite learning a couple of your favorite dishes, but she knew how much you loved cooking. You had practically begged her to let you make her dinner, and of course she’d said yes. How could she have said no to that?

She was eager to see what you made and was certain that the image of you cooking in her kitchen would be enough to get her through the rest of the day.

Billie sighed as she put out her cigarette before grabbing her phone out of her purse. She ignored the emails and immediately looked to your messages. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she reread the texts a couple of times.

Even after doing that, she still had no idea what you were talking about.

You were angrily texting Billie in your office when Erin came upstairs to give you your stethoscope. You’d left it downstairs in your hurry to go vent to Billie and you hadn’t even realized it. You didn’t hear her because you were muttering darkly under your breath, and you nearly fell out of your chair when she spoke up.

“Damn, annoying persistent little--.”

“Uh…Dr. Y/L/N?”

Your feet hit the ground fast as you spun around in your chair to see Erin standing in your doorway with your stethoscope in hand. You smile before laughing awkwardly and reaching out for it. You see Erin look to your phone before shooting you a concerned look.

“Oh, thank you!”

“Everything okay, doc?”

You nod despite the fact that you’re lying. You are annoyed at Claire for reasons you can’t really work out, but it’s enough to tick you off. You were having such a good day, and then she had to come in here and trap you in a room with her. She didn’t really have any questions for you, at least ones related to Jonesy. You try not to think about those same annoying questions before you shrug and decide to tell a little bit of the truth.

“Yeah, I just saw a client who I’ve had not so fun encounters with before.”

This piques Erin’s curiosity and she can’t help but ask who you just saw. You mention her name and how she works at a pet store you go to, and Erin practically jumps at this.

“Wait, is she brunette and kind of lanky?”

You open your mouth to reply, but don’t want to be unnecessarily mean so you just shrug noncommittally.

“Possibly?”

Erin groans as she moves a little closer so she can whisper and not be overheard. You are a little surprised by what the brunette says but you figure you shouldn’t be. She has pets too after all, and she is the one who told you about the store in the first place.

“Oh my god. She is the worst. She’s always there when I go get something for Dex and she-.”

Erin trails off as she looks to you uncertainly before deciding that you should probably know. She was really hoping that what she had to tell you didn’t surprise you. If you were annoyed with her it was very likely that you were well aware of Claire’s creepy tendencies.

“She always asks about you, but I promise I don’t tell her anything!”

Despite the chill you feel travel up your spine at the thought of Claire being that creepy, you smile at Erin. You’re grateful that she can tell when someone’s being a creep, and that she’s smart enough to not give them anything they could use against her. It’s also nice to know that she has your back when it matters.

“Thank you for that. She’s always just a little too pushy.”

Erin frowns a this before nodding to herself and you. She decides that she was going to have to run interference if this Claire showed up again. She leaves you alone after that to go back to work, and you almost forgot that you’d texted Billie when your phone beeps. You jump slightly in surprise before looking to what she wrote.

Who is it that’s bothering you? One of your coworkers?

You look back to the messages you sent to her as if you’d forgotten and cringe at how you let Claire rile you up this much.

This bitch won’t leave me alone.

Her cat’s a little shit too.

Okay, so maybe this had been a little unnecessary. Sure Claire was kind of a bitch and annoying, but you probably shouldn’t have said this. She just wouldn’t leave you alone no matter what you did, and now she was showing up at your work? Next thing you knew she’d be showing up at your damn front door.

The part about her cat was true though. He was a little shit.

You type a response before returning to your records. You write up the last details for Claire’s cat, you’d been waiting until everything else was done before doing that, before heading downstairs. It’s almost 1:30, so you only have about half an hour until your next appointment. You take the steps two at a time going down on your way to the kennels. You see Milo sleeping and smile as he jumps up at the sound of the door opening.

“Hey, Milo. Want to go out?”

He nearly knocks you over in his excitement to get out. You curse before grabbing onto Milo’s harness to lead him outside. As soon as you reach the yard and make sure it is empty, you release Milo and watch him run away. He pees here and there before coming back to jump on the bench that you were sitting on. You sighed before standing up and grabbing a frisbee and holding it up with a smile.

“Ready?”

Milo runs after the frisbee until he’s exhausted and panting ten minutes later. He’s lying in the grass with the frisbee near his mouth because he still had to hold onto it so you wouldn’t take it from him. You walk over to him because you figure he needs to go inside for some water, but Milo grabs the frisbee when he sees you coming. He runs away despite still panting and you sigh as you watch your dog run around with his frisbee. You decide it’s a lost cause and leave him to play with it for a minute as you run inside really quickly to grab something.

You nearly run into Erin on your way inside, but you stop just in time before shooting her an apologetic look.

“Sorry, Erin.”

She waves you off before glancing outside. “Milo out there?”

You just nod and she asks if she can take the twins out there. The ‘twins’ are two golden retrievers that are boarding for about a month while their home is under construction. They’re super sweet like most goldens and Milo loves them. You smile before nodding and continuing on your way into the clinic. You don’t make it very far before you’re stopped again.

“Dr. Y/L/N!”

You turn at the sound of someone calling your name. One of the receptionists is holding a large arrangement of flowers that almost completely hides their face. You smile about to ask who they were for before she hands them to you.

“For you. Do you want me to put them in your office?”

You shoot her a confused look and it takes you a second to respond. You eventually shake you head before reaching out to take them from her. You thank her before watching as she heads back up front before you look to the flowers again.

They’re beautiful and bright and they smell wonderful. The arrangement is a mix of roses, lilies and a couple other flowers you didn’t know the name of. You were halfway up the stairs before you attempted to look for a card. It was hidden and you couldn’t pull it from the flowers easily. You set the vase down on your desk before freeing the card from the petals and flipping it over to read what was written.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

Billie Dean.

You smile at the note before tucking it away somewhere safe. You were touched that Billie would surprise you like this and you couldn’t wait for tonight either.

It was going to be different from any of your previous dates. You were going to cook because you had been wanting to since you found out how much take-out Billie ate, and it was going to be at her house so you could see the kittens. You were only a little nervous about going over to Billie’s house again, but you were determined not to make it a big deal.

It had only been a few weeks since you met, but you hadn’t felt like how you did with Billie, with anyone else. Certainly not with your horrible exes. Billie Dean made you feel comfortable in a way that no one else ever had. She was different. Obviously because she was a medium, but honestly that wasn’t the difference that mattered to you. You hadn’t been lucky enough to be with someone that was as considerate and understanding as Billie. She never faulted you for your awkward and depressing past, and she was busier than you were so the sporadic texts and the even more sporadic dates didn’t upset her like you feared it would.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of yet someone else calling your name. This time however it was more frantic than you were expecting and you hurried out of your office. You’re met at the stairs by a slightly panicked Lindsey who must have been on lunch because she still had half of it in her hand.

“What’s is it? Is something wrong?”

Lindsey just hurries back down the stairs and opens the door to treatment. You follow her without question as she nods and fills you in on what’s going on.

“Milo was playing with the twins and he got stuck in the fence chasing the frisbee.”

You have to hold in your groan of disbelief because of course your overzealous and slightly impulsive dog would do this. You just mutter an okay under your breath before heading back out into the yard where you see Erin and Mina standing beside your screaming dog. He’s thrashing and trying to pull himself out, but he’s pretty stuck and really must have been running full speed.

You run over to the trio to try and calm Milo down because it seems like he really is stuck. You crouch down next to him on his right before reaching out for the panicked shepherd.

“Hey! Milo, hey, hi. It’s me, you’re okay. Shh, it’s okay, buddy.”

You reach through the bars of fence to pet Milo’s head and he calms enough for you not to be worried about him injuring himself further. You look him over quickly and don’t see any blood immediately, but then you reach his head and you see some dripping from his nose. You sigh in frustration as you try to figure out what the best thing to do is.

“Could you run inside and get a couple of towels and some lube?”

You figure that’s the best thing to get him out of this jam and you watch as both Erin and Mina leave, the latter leading the twins inside so they don’t get in the way. You turn back to your dog who is still panting in either exertion or stress, you’re not sure, and you do your best to keep him calm while you wait for your supplies.

“It’s okay Milo. You’re alright. We’re going to get you out, okay?”

Milo just whines before he turns to lick your hand that had been scratching his neck. You realize that you should probably take off his harness if you hope to slide him back through the fence, but you only get it halfway off before it becomes stuck.

“Dammit.”

Erin returns first and she stands back a little not sure if you want help before she speaks up.

“Anything I can do?”

You nod before motioning for the brunette to come closer so you can show her what you’re trying to do. If you pull on his harness while Erin pushes him away from the fence post a bit you might be able to get it off. You explain this and Erin just nods before moving to put her hands on Milo.

“Sorry buddy.”

It works but Milo yelps as you do it, so you decide to leave the other side be. Maybe you can slide him forward enough on the other side and figure it out from there. He was trapped from just behind his shoulders with most of his body still inside the yard, so maybe you could just pull him back in. When Mina arrives with the towels and what looks like all of the lube in the hospital, you relay the plan and put on the gloves that Mina luckily had the foresight to bring.

“Okay, Milo. We’re going to put this on you and try to slide you out alright?”

You know that he’s not going to respond or even really comprehend what you’re saying, but you know that hearing your voice will calm him down. He’s always been anxious when having things done to him and this was going to be worse due to the fact that he’s already highly stressed before anything has even begun.

You start to rub some of the lube on his right shoulder through the fence while Mina and Erin take his left side. Milo turns as they talk to him too, but is unable to see and growls as they touch him.

“Hey, Milo, stop that. They’re just trying to help you, okay?”

You try to keep going, you even move one of your hands to his left side but it doesn’t help. Milo just gets antsier and he’s growling louder before you realize it’s not working. You can’t be mad at him for being scared. He doesn’t know what’s going on and he can’t see them so he’s distrustful.

You make the decision to switch sides with them so he can see them and just hear you on his blind side. You berate yourself for not doing this initially because Milo immediately calms down and his tail starts to wag as you scratch him between his shoulder blades.

“Good boy, Milo. Almost done okay?”

Now that Mio is sufficiently lubed, you try and slide him back through the bars. You manipulate one of his legs forward to try and slide him backwards but he’s still too wide. You instruct Erin and Mina to do the same and Milo’s legs are stretched out as far forward as they can go before you try again. You have to readjust as Erin moves to pull him from behind, and you breathe a sigh of relief as Milo finally slides back into the yard. You hold onto him as his head whips around to see who’s at his rear end, and you look at his nose carefully before taking his harness off completely. You try to wipe off some of the lube with the towels, but it’s no use. Milo’s too excited about being freed and he’s already shaking it everywhere anyway.

“Look at you Milo. You’re a mess, huh? You need a bath.”

He just licks your face and you groan in annoyance before thanking both of your helpers. You scratch your dog behind his ears for another few seconds before you stand up and motion for him to follow you.

“No more frisbee for a while, okay?”

It turns out that Milo’s a little sorer than anticipated and after his bath he yelps when you reach underneath him to pick him up. You try again more carefully before just letting him jump up on you. You regret this immediately once all 70+ lbs of him is in your arms, but you put him down quickly as he shakes all of the water off of him. You groan in disgust before covering him with a towel and attempting to dry him off.

He whines when you put him in the kennel with the blow dryer, but you have to get to your appointment. You’ll check on him afterwards, but for now you have to go see a dog about some skin issues.

“I’ll be back Milo. Be good.”

It’s 4 before you are able to take the time to examine Milo again. You are in between appointments when you pull him out of his kennel and bring him into treatment. You brush him out because he looks like a mess and as you’re doing that you notice he’s a little sensitive along his ribs. Not that you’re shocked. He’d forced himself through a damn hole he shouldn’t have been able to fit through.

You listened to him and didn’t find anything else wrong and decided to just give him a little something for the pain that would be worse tomorrow. Your next appointment arrives as you are finishing up with him but it’s taking you a minute to get Milo to take his pill. He’s always been horrible about taking medication.

“Dr. Y/L/N. Billy’s here.”

You’re a little confused by this and you turn to Erin with a frown. You’re currently holding open Milo’s mouth to try and shove this pill down his throat when you realize what she means. Billy. The cat with arthritis.

“Right okay, what’s going on with him?”

Billie Dean checks her phone again once she’s done with work. She hasn’t heard from you yet which makes her think you’re still working. It’s nearly 6:30 which is a little late for you, but she decides to just head home and get things ready.

Other than taking care of the kittens and making sure there were clean dishes for you two to use, she didn’t have much she could do. You had refused to tell her what you were cooking and had insisted on shopping yourself. Billie was already in the car when her phone rang. She answers it without looking to see who it is because she’s driving, but she doesn’t have to wonder long.

“Hello?”

“Hi! Billie I’m so sorry for not calling you sooner! Things got crazy here. Milo got stuck in a fence, a dog came in after getting hit by a car, but thank you so much! The flowers are beautiful!”

Billie chuckles under her breath at your flustered state, but then she registers everything that you said and she frowns in concern.

“I’m glad you liked them, Y/N. Did you say that Milo got stuck in a fence? Is he okay?”

You turned around to glance in the back seat briefly to see him fast asleep. He was exhausted from his exciting day and probably would sleep the rest of the night.

“Yeah, he was having too much fun with some friends and a frisbee and ended up halfway through an iron fence.”

Billie shakes her head at the image this conjures up and she sighs as she turns into her driveway.

“Aw poor baby.”

You laugh at this before pulling up to your apartment building. You still had to go shopping to get groceries, but you had to make sure that Milo was situated first. You weren’t sure how long you would be gone and were a little stressed by this, but you would figure it out.

“Yeah, he had a rough day.”

You both were silent as you turn off your cars and consider what to say next. You were trying to figure out how much time you needed to take care of Milo and shop before you could head over to Billie’s. Billie was trying to figure out things for Milo as well, but you hadn’t even considered what she suggested.

“How was your day?”

“Do you want to bring him?”

You both speak at the same time and it takes you a second to realize what she’s said. You shake your head as you turn around to see Milo still out cold. You hoped you wouldn’t have to carry him. Again.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just get him set up here before heading to the store.”

Billie’s already out of her car by the time she responds. She doesn’t mind either way, but she has a feeling she knows what you want to do. Not to mention, she supposes that the kittens need to be socialized and Bit possibly scared obedient. As if that would ever work.

“Would you feel better if you brought him?”

You don’t answer immediately which is honestly the only answer that Billie needs. You’re thinking about how you would love to bring him along because you’d be able to watch him and you could see how Milo would act around the kittens. You had always wanted a cat, and you supposed now was as good a time as any to see how it might work. Or not. As long as Billie didn’t mind.

Eventually you answer and Billie has to force herself not to smile smugly at how well she knew you already.

“I guess. I don’t want you to feel obligated though. I can’t exactly promise that he won’t get hair everywhere!”

You jump out of your car quickly before opening the back door startling Milo awake. He sits up quickly and you reach into the back seat and unbuckle him before grabbing his leash. He jumps to the ground a little more carefully than he usually would before you hear Billie reply.

“I want you to do whatever you need, Y/N. I’m fine either way. You know I adore Milo.”

You smile at this as you look to your dog who is yawning as you walk to the elevator. You suppose that you can take him with you. He might actually enjoy it. You just had to make sure he behaved and didn’t hurt any of the kittens. Billie said this before you got a chance to and you laugh as you nod in agreement.

“We’ll just have to see how he plays along with the kittens.”

You follow Milo into the elevator before leaning against the wall with a sigh. You suppose it’s decided then. You feel your excitement for tonight increasing again, now that you know Milo won’t be home alone. You just smile as the doors close and you take a deep breath.

“We will. I’ll feed him and then be over in about an hour. Does that work?”

Billie’s nodding before she greets Heather who is with Mickey in the living room.

“I’ll see you both then.”

Part 9

#american horror story #ahs fic #ahs #my ffic #ahs murder house #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard #a little bit #IS IT TOO LATE TO TAG THIS AS SLOW BURN???#Y'all I promise it's coming

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doomarchives · 3 years

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David Annandale’s The Harrowing Of Doom: An In-Depth Review

So, I was kindly offered an advance reviewer’s copy of The Harrowing of Doom by David Annandale for the Marvel Untold series, a new prose line revolving around Marvel’s villains. Although I’m not personally familiar, the author’s prior written work and academic scholarship indicated a strong background in fantasy, science fiction, as well as horror film and literature - all essential elements of Doom himself honestly, whether in his character, design, or formative influences. A promising start from the outset!

To no one’s surprise, I was especially excited for this one. Doctor Doom is both my favorite Marvel character and area of nerdy comics expertise, and Annandale sounded like the perfect candidate to tackle him.

The Harrowing of Doom centers around a conflict familiar to those who know the character. Taking place fifteen years after his ascension to the throne, Victor von Doom is still hellbent on rescuing the soul of his mother, Cynthia, trapped in hell by the demon Mephisto. His yearly attempts to save her have been fruitless thus far, but he believes he can really do it this time, enlisting the help of a new character, Maria von Helm, and some of his lesser known subjects (also new characters) to accomplish the task, by building a machine called The Harrower. The noble scheme is further complicated by the reappearance of Prince Rudolfo Fortunov, son of the monarch deposed and murdered by Doom years prior, who is equally determined to take back what he believes is his birthright by any means necessary. The novel is a relatively dense and detailed one, and as a true blue Doom enthusiast, I have a dense and detailed review to match.

The first thing that I personally take note of in any material involving Doom is the author’s perspective on the truth of Latveria’s “benevolent dictatorship.” It immediately speaks volumes about a writer’s perception of Doom’s accountability and sense of morality; it kind of ends up coloring his entire characterization. That being said, I was really pleased by the evenhandedness with which Annandale treats Doom’s Latveria and his influence upon his subjects. It slots in neatly with some of the greats, Lee & Kirby, Jonathan Hickman, Roger Stern, etc with the acknowledgement that Doom is indeed a despot with an iron fist and a will absolute, but one who cares for the wellbeing of his country. Through dialogue from his subjects like the skittish Father Grigori Zargo and diehard loyal Captain Kariana Verlak, the reader gets the sense that Doom’s rule may be the best leadership Latveria has ever known. (A brief aside: another great strength of The Harrowing of Doom that has to be mentioned is the fleshing out of these different original characters. Maria von Helm was a particularly welcome addition, as a close friend of Doom’s mother and a far more empathetic magic user compared to him.)

Verlak is openly married to Dr. Elsa Orloff, a trans woman and neurosurgeon of international renown. Both of them had experienced the Fortunov rule that predated Doom’s, with Orloff even having fled Fortunov’s Latveria when she first come out as transgender, in fear of his tyrannical rule and the dangerously transphobic legislature he enforced called “The Laws of the Person.” It is apparent that Doom exists in obvious juxtaposition to the prior ruler’s bigotry. Beyond the total erasure of all previous discrimination and state-enforced bigotry, he has Verlak appointed in a role of great prominence, gave Orloff the tools she needed to succeed in her field, and even shares an exchange with her where he remarks that he knows her from her publications in the Lancet Neurology and that he appreciates them for their “speculative” approach. In an excellent exchange between Father Zargo and the rebel Prince Fortunov, the priest, who is by far Doom’s number one fan, explains Doom’s mesmerizing hold on the populace and the benefits they reap from his rule, despite it being a despotic one:

“I’ll be explicit, all the same,” said Zargo. “Doom is a sun king, even more fully than Louis XIV ever was. Latveria is a world power. How? Because of Doom and only because of Doom. Latveria’s strength and its wealth come from his inventions. And the beams of his sun touch every citizen. Universal basic income, free healthcare, free schooling, free universities, free training to the highest level of your calling - all of these things flow from Doom.”

“Free?” Fortunov snarled.

“The price is obedience, yes,” said Zargo, “And yes, Doom is feared.” Zargo stopped himself from saying Vladimir was feared and hated. [...] “Even though Doom is feared, he also is Latveria in every sense that matters.”

What I really appreciated was the author’s ability to walk the tightrope of acknowledging how beneficial Doom is for the country and his protectiveness over his domain, whilst also acknowledging Doom’s intense paternalism that ultimately favors his own goals. Doom, as well-read comic fans would know, is heralded as one of Marvel’s master manipulators. It’s a great strength of this novel to see him exerting his willpower and the strength of his personality to manipulate and sometimes, fully overpower that of his subjects. Father Zargo is definitely the most profound victim of this, a man with ties to both the church and the occult. Through the novel, Doom insistently pushes him towards the latter, his priorities made clear in one sentence: “The work was what mattered. Zargo’s soul was not Doom’s concern.” An especially interesting scene occurs later in the novel. Without too much elaboration, Doom performs an experiment where he uses the old Latverian nobility as guinea pigs. This was something I immensely liked, corroborating one of my own personal perceptions of Doom. It’s always made sense to me that Doom would continue to hold a certain amount of disdain for Latverian high society, even after he went from low class Romani boy to monarch himself.

(“The Fantastic Origin of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four Annual #2.)

Afterwards his partner, Maria von Helm, muses aloud that she always wondered why Doom let vestiges of the old regime remain, to which Doom responds: “Now you know. The aristocracy has its uses, and the advantages of being disposable.” It’s maybe my favorite example in the book of the exceptions to Doom’s purported benevolence. He does want the country to flourish and for his subjects to prosper, but this intent can be superseded by his innately ambitious nature and his own personal biases. It’s clear at several points in the book that Annandale is obviously well-read on Doom himself, but it was especially in the capturing of this nuance that it really stuck out to me in a big way. (As well as the fun reference to Doom’s brief jaunt in the French Riviera in Supervillain Team-Up!)

Outside of this core aspect of his characterization, I really enjoyed how the novel not only built up Doom’s cult of personality, but emphasized the sheer magnetism of Doom himself, in person. Constantly, characters find themselves buffeted by strength of his will, craving his approval or cowering and scrambling to avoid his displeasure. It’s a great true-to-character depiction of interactions between Doom and Latverian citizens, dynamics that were only touched upon briefly in the periphery of most comics involving Doom. I think, ironically, this is also perhaps the source of one of the novel’s few weaknesses. By keeping the book very Latveria-focused, Annandale does an excellent job of adding world-building on every level, from expounding on Latverian national holidays to the layouts of Doomstadt to the country’s storied history with witches predating Doom and his mother. But the fact that Doom mostly interacts with those beneath him or those who work for him gives the reader a bit of a myopic, overtly flattering perspective of him as almost too certain, too powerful, too unfeeling. I suppose it serves the scope of the novel for Doom to be more an obelisk of a man than fully well-rounded, but I contest that one of the best things about his character is that his indomitable exterior hides a deep well of pain and uncertainty.

(“In The Clutches of Doctor Doom,” Fantastic Four #17.)

(“Oath of Fealty,” Doctor Doom #7.)

The novel obviously perceives Doom as Byronic, there’s even excerpts from Manfred interspersed between chapters that I greatly enjoyed, but I did find the heart of the Byronic character a little lacking here. Where Manfred bares his soul alone in monologue or to others, Doom, for the most part, does not. There are definitely brief allusions to the trials he’s faced, but he seems rarely prone to doubt or vulnerability until the very end. (For example, the central task is the attempt to rescue Cynthia von Doom’s soul, but little time is spent dwelling on this very human connection between mother and son.) Or even self-admitted imperfection! Interestingly, I only ever caught one mention of his scars in the entire novel.

The Harrowing of Doom seems to prescribe to the line of thought that the mask is the only true face of Doom’s that matters, but I think with that philosophy, it stays firmly within the character’s own comfort zone. And his psyche never feels truly challenged, because there’s no worthy challenger. Doom knows without a doubt that he is Fortunov’s superior, so there’s no real interpersonal friction there. It left me keenly interested in seeing how the author would write Doom in the presence of someone like Reed Richards, an opponent who has historically brought out Doom’s baser instincts and invoked his self-doubt, drawing out his flaws and humanity in the process. Hopefully Marvel approves a sequel!

Doubtlessly, it’s still a strong entry into Marvel’s Doom canon and an excellent read for anyone who enjoys the character and is familiar with his history. The novel gives a sprawling, detailed look at Latveria and fleshes out both country and countrymen with aplomb. I took real delight at the indirect peeks at Doom’s personality through other characters’s observations or simple exposition. Some notable examples include Doom’s occult librarian wondering if he had been appointed out of spite of his witch-hunter ancestry, Zargo noting the west wing of Werner Academy was dedicated to clinical research in a nod to Werner von Doom’s work as a healer, and my favorite: the paintings within Castle Doom being impressionistic depictions of Doom’s ancestors, “people long buried, long forgotten, and in their lifetimes ignored or worse.”

The conflict also moves at an engaging, brisk pace and smartly takes advantage of the widely known fact that Doom is preoccupied every Midsummer Night and turns that into an opening to be exploited by Fortunov, who also is well characterized throughout the novel and even experiences his own personal growth.

(“Though Some Call It Magic!”, Astonishing Tales #8)

Essentially, the product is a great novel about Doctor Doom influenced by strong comic lore knowledge, Gothic and Romance literature, horror cinema (According to the author, Doom’s lab is modeled after the lab from The Bride of Frankenstein!), and fantasy. If that sounds like something up your alley, definitely check it out. It gets a wholehearted recommendation from me.

About Marvel Entertainment

Marvel Entertainment, LLC, a wholly-owned subsidiary of The Walt Disney Company, is one of the world’s most prominent character-based entertainment companies, built on a proven library of more than 8,000 characters featured in a variety of media for over eighty years. Marvel utilizes its character franchises in entertainment, licensing, publishing, games, and digital media.

#victor von doom #doctor doom #media type: book #Marvel #MarvelEnt #aconyte books #review

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drmazel · 3 years

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certified maria tma speculation (TM) (lazy version)

this turned out way longer than i thought it would. it’s a collection of snippets from tma transcripts just barely hinting at a speculation i have so if you don’t care then scroll fast!

i don’t feel like spending a bunch of time coming up with some speculation and theory when 1) i could be wrong and 2) i just wanna have fun but! for no reason whatsoever here are just some fun and cute quotes from s5 that i haven’t been able to get out of my head that don’t seem to have really been addressed much if at all in the narrative yet and i definitely don’t think are just pressing at the edges to come back and smack us in the face as the finale approaches <3

not that i think they’re all necessarily tied together but mmm a few of these taste of Essence of Foreshadowing yummy! a.k.a. (jonny voice) martin is not going to be okay

MAG167

Jon: W-Without trust. W-Without a reason. Gertrude needed both the purpose her mission gave her and the control her position allowed. To be here, like us, without a – a reason, without someone to ground her? She – She’d have power, but – no control. No real purpose. Perhaps she’d have dedicated herself to a doomed quest like us but – No. I think this would have broken her. And she’d have resigned herself to – ruling her domain.

...

Martin: So. If you say Gertrude wouldn’t have been able to go on without a reason –

Jon: Yes, Martin, you are my reason.

MAG170

(sudden lucid moment amongst a cloud of forgetfulness) Martin: Why. The Eye has won. It can already see everything; it wouldn’t need a – w-wouldn’t need a –

MAG171

Martin: Don’t do that.

Jon: What?

Martin: Don’t use me as an excuse.

MAG172

Martin: If you look, and I was – influenced, then how can I trust anything else? How can I believe any of my thoughts and feelings are really mine?

MAG176

Jon: I don’t like betraying someone’s trust like this.

Martin: It’s not a betrayal if you’re doing it to help.

Jon: I’m not so sure.

Martin: Look, if it was me in her shoes, I’m sure I’d forgive you. It-It’s for the best!

MAG177

Basira: And if I killed you now?

Jon: You couldn’t. And even if you could, it wouldn’t be enough to undo what’s happened to the world.

MAG178

Jon: No-one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most. Even me. [personal note: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm bark snarl bark bark bark bite bite snarl grrrrr!!!!! bite!!!]

MAG179

Jon: Hmmm. Apparently. I mean, I know it sounds strange, but it… it felt right for Daisy to be able to hurt me.

Martin: Dream logic again?

Jon: Mmm. The… resonances from our relationship before the change carried over and –

MAG181

Annabelle: Don’t worry, Martin. We’ll meet again. Hopefully when you’re feeling a little bit more… open-minded. [personal note: SNARL GROWL BITE BITE GROWL SNARL wife GRRRR BITE!!!!!!!!!]

MAG183

Jon: Well, you’re a watcher, Martin. You worked for the Institute, you read statements. The Eye is… fond of you.

MAG184

Jon: What was I supposed to do? I owed you. Didn’t want to just watch you suffer.

Martin: It’s what you’ve been doing for everyone else. It’s what you’re expecting him to do.

MAG185

Jon: Either way, even if I wasn’t here, I don’t think you’d be in any danger. Not anymore. I wasn’t sure when we first started out, I hadn’t properly, er… looked into it, as it were. But now I’m certain.

...

Martin: Even though I didn’t ask for it? Did nothing to deserve it?

Jon: ‘Deserve’. Huh. Now there’s a word that always causes trouble.

Martin: Don’t be patronising.

Jon: I just mean that nobody here deserves the position they’ve found themselves in, not really. I suppose a few may have asked for it, sought it out even, but far more didn’t. They just made the wrong choices for the right reasons. Or even the right choices. But ones that still led them here in the end.

...

Martin: I guess we should get used to it. Knowing that all these awful things are happening for our benefit.

MAG186 (this is a big one that ties a lot of my scattered thoughts together)

Martin: So, this price. What do you think? Are we going to have to kill John?

Also Martin: I don’t know because you don’t know. But it seems like something we should at least consider.

Martin: I… have thought about it. And… I won’t. I don’t think I could. But anything else? Any other price? I’ll pay it.

Also Martin: Even dying?

Martin: Yeah!

Also Martin: Jon’s as bad as we are. He wouldn’t let it happen.

Martin: It’s not his decision.

Also Martin: Fine. So flip that round, then. What are you going to do when he tries to sacrifice himself, because you know he’s going to try?

Martin: I don’t know, all right? I don’t know.

Also Martin: And that’s okay for now, but I just want us to have thought about this stuff properly before it comes up. Because even if that’s not it, chances are it’ll be something else you don’t want to do, and we need to make a proper choice. We can’t just react out of shame or fear or whatever.

Martin: What, like with Peter and Elias?

Also Martin: Yes.

Martin: That was a proper choice?! I chose wrong!

Also Martin: But you made a decision. Your own decision. Regardless of the outcome.

...

Martin: But I can’t keep existing like this at their expense. It’s not… it’s not right. Whatever happens with Elias, W-with the rest of the world… I can’t live on the misery of others.

Also Martin: They’ll suffer either way.

Martin: I get it, okay? I can’t decide what happens to them. But… I just might be able to decide what happens to me. And… And if it comes down to it… I’ll get John to destroy me like the others.

Also Martin: You don’t really believe he’d do it?

Martin: I don’t know. Maybe?

Also Martin: This took a dark turn.

Martin: Yeah. But… this time, it doesn’t feel like despair. It feels like resolve.

MAG188

Jon (statement): She looked at the eye, and the eye looked back. Carmen’s arm shot out, thrusting the tip of the blade right into the pupil. But it did not cut anything, for there was nothing but empty blackness. Carmen’s knife, then her hand, then her forearm passed into the void of that pupil, her skin bristling with the cold. And then the iris closed around her arm, the thin flesh of the tightening muscle clenching with astonishing strength as it held her in place. Then, inch by inch by inch, it began to pull her in. But her flatmate simply shushed her. Her terror was pointed and crimson, and tomorrow she will wake up hating London and worrying about how many characters there are.

MAG189

Jon: No, Martin, listen, what I’m saying is that whichever way you cut it, ultimately it just comes down to who The Eye chooses. [personal note: MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM]

...

Jon (statement): They can all hear him now. Any words he speaks will ring out through the chamber. He wants to talk of the people outside, the bruised and abandoned ones that suffer and die to slake their appetites. He wants to cry for restitution, for justice, for a future, for anything. But all eyes are on him and he falters. He remembers the cold, the hunger, the ache of concrete beneath him. He is afraid. And his chair is so very comfortable. The minister coughs, once, uncomfortably, and sits down. [personal note: wow if only there was a character that had a thing about comfortable chairs this season? anyway,]

Act III trailer

please go read the rime of the ancient mariner or the wikipedia synopsis or something. for real. like for real for real oh my god i can’t believe i didn’t think of this of course jonny chose that shit on PURPOSE

MAG191 (of course)

Martin: And you have to promise me you’re going to do everything in your power to live. That you’re not going to sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity, just because you feel guilty about what happened. [personal note: see MAG186. Jon isn’t the only one that feels guilty that this happened, and I can’t stop thinking about how this promise did not go both ways.]

MAG193

Jonah: Enough. Tell me, why are you here?

Jon (statement): I… I don’t know.

Jonah: Were you drawn here?

Jon (statement): Yes. I was.

Jonah: Against your will?

Jon (statement):No.

Jonah: Then why did you heed the call?

Jon (statement): Because… this is the place I know I should be.

Jonah: Good. The job is yours.

[personal note: OBVIOUS parallels with jon and being promoted to archivist then being promoted to Archivist, but my “martin is not going to be okay” brain is very guilty of reaching for connections and i do see this parallel with the conversation between jon and martin in MAG039 about why martin hadn’t quit. inch resting.]

anyway i said i don’t have the mental energy to come up with some long speculation and i DEFINITELY don’t now after pulling all this out of the transcripts. i could be wrong i could be right i could be somewhere in the middle, but i think it’s very possible that jon tries to accept the eye’s “offer” to take jonah’s place, martin doesn’t let him, martin does it instead then something i don’t even want to think about happens because he does NOT want to feed off of people’s suffering as has been repeated over and over. i’m probably way off but i’ve just been thinking about it and needed to get it down somewhere. maybe i’ll reblog this on thursday after the release of 194 with an update, who knows! whether i’m right or wrong both martin and jon will be fine tho <3

#THAT 178 ONE REALLY GETS ME AHAHAHA MMMMMMMMMMMM #FORGOT ABOUT THAT UNTIL SCANNING THROUGH THE TRANSCRIPTS JUST NOW HEHEHE HOOHOO #tma speculation #the magnus archives #LONG post #sorryyyy

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neeterloveschenford · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on RNM 3x09

Ok y’all, here we go. Finally we are an official couple! Malex for the win!! (Other things happened, but ya know. Priorities.) I was very happy overall with the progress our boys have made. And as much as I’ve enjoyed this season, I’m glad we’ve had a bit of a time jump. Even if I think it’s only been a few days. I was pretty sure that Kyle and Max would already be up and about. It would have taken too much of an episode to deal with bringing Max out of the pod and Kyle waking up from his coma. Do I feel a little short changed? Yeah. But I get it. There’s only 13 episodes and there is a lot that we have to get to before the finale. So on that note, I’m gonna dive right in. Care to join me?

You go Nora with your badass self killing all those clones. (I mean harsh, but hopefully they were just vessels and had no consciousness to speak of.) And Jones being his crazy dictator self killing that scientist was super harsh. And can we for the love of God get Lucky away from him!?!?!?! He is the goodest boi! He deserves better.

Go on science Liz. I don’t understand half of what she said, but I believe it. And I love how badass she is when she sciences. And there we get our first glimpse of Malex goodness, “Me and Alex are working on the Lockhart machine.” Because of course they are. Because their brilliance only intensifies when they work together. Loved Isobel’s gross face when Liz talks about Noah’s spores. And here’s where we get the Heath story taking off. Max is not gonna like this one!

Ok, Deep Sky doctor lady. I really dig your hair, but do you know who you’re talking to here? Kyle is the premiere alien doctor on this planet. He probably knows more about weird biology than you’ll ever learn. Listen to my boy! And Kyle honey, you are completely justified in your righteous indignation. And you are correct in that no one is more qualified in top-secret ET shenanigans than you baby. (I really need to figure out how to use that line in real life. It’s like the best thing he’s ever said.) I still don’t know whether or not to trust Eduardo. I want to, but I’m still not sure what he’s all about.

I love how dedicated Isobel is. She’s downright obsessed and I love this side of her. And her cockblocking Delmanes was so funny all episode. I also really love that Greg is fully involved now. The Pod Squad needs all the allies they can get at this point.

That phone call almost made me cry. They look so incredibly happy to just be together. I knew as soon as Alex said he wouldn’t forget their date that it wouldn’t happen, but still. Just the fact that they are both ready for that step is amazing. They have both grown so much. I’m just so happy to see them so happy. It was truly amazing. And I agree with Michael. Alex needs to talk codey more often!

It was totally cute that Max had a get Liz playlist, but does he know what the song The Way is about? It’s not exactly romantic.

Heath, you’re in trouble now!

Delmanes are so cute! Isobel is so adorable when she is flustered by a pretty girl!. I will admit though, that I really wish Anatsa hadn’t slept with Max. I mean these guys tend to be a little too close sometimes. But, you know, that seems to be the way this show is going to roll. Blame it on Carina’s lingering messes from the last two seasons and move on.

Of course Alex would manifest Nora. Despite his growth, he still has a lot of guilt over her death and his father’s role in it. I love that Michael is his focus. Alex’s love for Michael will always be the guiding factor in everything he does. He wants more than anything to make sure that Michael has a good life. And I think he’s finally learned that his presence in Michael’s life is what makes it good. I love these two dumbos! (said lovingly) They make me so happy!!

Come on Max. Tell Liz how you not only kept her tapes, but you would listen to them in the desert while crying and missing her! These two are the real dumbos in this show. (said not so lovingly)

I love how powerful Isobel’s become. And that was way cool the way she pulled that pod out of the lake. I’ve really loved her journey this season. And Maria was right, that camp was really beautiful.

I just don’t know if we can trust Eduardo yet! He says all the right things, but he just seems too good to be true! I hope my misgivings are wrong. I really want Kyle and Alex both to have someone who will be a good father figure. They both deserve it.

You know what would have been an awesome twist? If Jesse had shown up when Alex saw the project shepherd tech in Nora’s machine.

I love how Michael just wants to take care of Alex. Lovingly breaking into his boyfriend’s house. What a romantic.

You know what Maria? Get it girl! I think Delmanes is both sexy and adorable. I am ok with them being together!

I love that Kyle is so determined to do the right thing. He has really grown to care about all the aliens. He just wants to do the right thing and I love him for it. He is proving every day that he is the best member of the Valenti family. I’m so proud of my baby boy!

And now we’re getting down to business with Echo. They both have made mistakes and they both have admitted as such, but it still surprises me that Liz cannot see why Max is so scared of his secrets getting out. (Am I really taking Max’s side in something? What is wrong with this picture?) Also, she is so determined to believe the best of Heath that she doesn’t want to see what’s glaringly obvious. I saw this coming like five episodes ago. Just saying.

If Vlamis doesn’t make that shirt part of his next merch drop, I will scream. I would wear the heck out of that shirt! And Eduardo’s face when Michael is standing in his office was the best! And bragging about how smart his boo is! Michael just adores his brilliant hacker boyfriend!

Admittedly, yoda Maria is getting a little old. But I am glad that Maria and Isobel are friends now. They really compliment each other so well. And I loved how Isobel took drinks out of Greg’s hand all ep.

My sweet Alex! I love him so much. Pushing himself so hard to try to help Michael. It’s all about Michael. His capacity to love is so huge. And then Michaell comes to the rescue. He’s always got him. That’s the kind of grand declaration that we need in our lives. The way that Alex grabbed onto Michael’s shirt was everything. They just bring so much joy to my soul.

Isobel and Anaste are cute, but my Kybel heart still beats strong. Also, I still think she’s an alien or something. I have decided to just not trust anyone new.

Michael listening to Alex, comforting him, and admitting he’s had the same fears was beautiful. I love how strong he is now. He’s really putting himself out there to be there for the people that matter the most. And that Sander’s story was so sweet. Of course that would be the perfect date for these two. And the fact that they worked together perfectly to take out the evil PS part and put the machine back together the way it was meant to be was such a great metaphor for their relationship. I can’t believe we are getting so much goodness right now. We are truly blessed.

Still making me take Max’s side Liz. You really are letting me down. Oh wait, helping Michael be less Michael. Yep, Max made me remember why I hate him. Never mind.

So Dallas is an alien. (At least somebody new is!) Not who I thought it would be though. And since we saw him in one of the s4 bts pics, then we know he’s probably sticking around. I am intrigued. And now we know what Heath’s been up to. I guess he’s supposed to be a not so bad guy since he’s trying to help his best friend. But you hurt my Kyle dude. There’s really no coming back from that.

I am still pleased with 99% of this season. We’re coming down to the wire now. I just hope for more and more goodness with every episode. Even if we have to have another episode without Alex, I am expecting there to be some mentions of him by Michael. This season has made me so so happy. I can’t believe we are living in a time when Malex is together and building a beautiful relationship that will stand the test of time. We are a blessed people. And I cannot wait for more! Till next time guys!!

#roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico s3 #s3ep9 #s3 spoilers #it's only my opinion

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asgardianthot · 4 years

Text

Flesh And Bones - Part 5

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

A/N: This one’s a long one to make up for how awfully long it took me to post it :D I’m so sorry I literally suck I don’t deserve your interest BUT it’s also a good one so hopefully you’ll forgive me :D and hopefully I’ll post a LOT more regularly. Enjoy!!

TW: one short mention of suicide

Words: 3557

"Bucky, stop!" Wanda shouted.

She did her best to ignore the flying items of clothing that were being thrown with no specific aiming, and instead was directing her stern look towards Barnes. The soldier’s room was a current mess, with its inhabitant grabbing everything from inside his closet and throwing it out in the most dramatic manner possible, to the floor, to his bed, it didn’t really matter as long as his message was clear: he was packing up. There was an open travel bag over at the corner, waiting to be filled so that the man could flee.

Wanda seemed more concerned than shocked at the news. Sure, finding out those two were soulmates wasn’t anything she had expected to happen anytime soon, but there would be time to digest that later. Right now, Bucky was either making a scene or going mental, or probably both, so she focused on getting him to stop.

"This is insane.” She scolded him, disappointment clear on her tone, “Nat, tell him."

When the Maximoff girl turned to ask for backup from Natasha, the latter showed no real aid whatsoever: she was holding back laughter, still at awe from the reason behind the disturbs, which was Barnes and Wilson were soulmates, and it for some reason was the most ironic, hilarious and tragicomic thing she had ever heard of.

"It-" the redhead tried to support Wanda, but failed as her contained chuckle escaped her lips, and she had to cover her smile with her hand; she quickly nodded, attempting to get rid of the smug look on her face, "It is, it's crazy."

Maximoff looked at her like she was the biggest disappointment in the room at the time. If there was something she didn’t need right now was unhelpfulness.

She turned to the man in question, "What are you trying to accomplish?"

"I'll just move out!” he yelled back, sounding like not even he trusted his own plan, “It'll go away!"

"No it won't, and you know it!" the witch pleaded, growing more and more exasperated.

"No, I don't.” Bucky stopped his actions to shrug dramatically, “You don't know it, nobody really knows how this thing works."

Eventually, Romanoff swallowed her giggles and decided to step in in more seriousness.

"Wanda's right.” She tilted her head, sympathetic, “You're just gonna have to face it."

Barnes didn’t care to dignify the intervention with an answer. He easily shook his head and grabbed the travel bag from the corner. A loud sigh was heard coming from Wanda, who stood there rather defeated and crossing her arms. Looking around, she frowned at the amount of clothes and garbage that lied all over the floor and didn’t seem to bother Bucky in the slightest.

"Have you always been this messy?” she judged him, taking her anger out on that unimportant detail, “You were a fugitive."

Barnes faced her and replied in ridiculous anger, "I got messier, it's one of the perks of not being on the run!"

Wanda went along with their deaf debate and proceeded to scold him about it, so that he would at least stop moving for a few seconds.

"You're running away as we speak!" Maximoff threw her hand in the air.

"Don't."

Steve hadn’t produced a single word since Barnes had abandoned the common room, followed by Natasha. The zone had remained static, only disrupted by Sam’s slow walk to the couch, where he slouched with lost eyes. Steve stood in the same spot he had been standing for the last ten minutes, both in absolute silence until Sam phrased the negation.

Rogers raised an eyebrow, "I didn't-"

"You're thinking it." Sam cut him off in annoyance.

The blonde was left to open his mouth only to shut it closed again. Both resumed their processing. Steve, even if not one of the actors of the situation, was finding himself at a mental bifurcation. Both of his best friends, the ones he had attempted to turn best friends to each other and failed multiple times, were bound. And none of them seemed too happy about it.

After minutes of more silence, it appeared as if something clicked inside of Sam’s brain.

“Fuck.” He let out, then stared at the ceiling with a sarcastic smile that was anything but happy.

He shook his head and stood up, headed to his room, and rarely to be seen again.

In fact, he began avoiding the rest of the team quite successfully. He picked up every small, individual mission or debriefing, and made sure to spend as much time away from the kitchen as possible. Tony asked him what was going on at the tower that had everybody so tense, when Sam met him at Stark Industries.

Back at SHIELD headquarters, an unexpected visit surprised him on labor hours. He was dropping some paperwork at an empty office where Maria Hill was supposed to be, and as he turned to the open door, his eyes clashed against a figure standing in his way.

“Look who’s still alive.” Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms.

Sam was left to do less than nod. He merely acknowledged her presence and didn’t deny his disappearance for the last days.

“Just taking some time.” He let out with detachment, “I think I earned it.”

He was referring to the injury he had suffered on the job. Samuel Wilson was never one to cut schedules or skip work; as a matter of fact, he was the first one to openly judge and poke fun at whoever showed themselves lazy when it came to avenging. That whoever being, very often, Bucky. Usually, and he hadn’t failed to prove it, not even getting his ass kicked would be enough for Sam to take any sort of injury leave. However, this time, even with his ribs and shoulder healed, he decided to pretend like he hadn’t been working as much. Of course, he simply had managed to get work done without alerting the nosy –and preoccupied- team members nor Barnes of his whereabouts.

“As long as you need.” Romanoff did her best to support him and let him know he wasn’t being judged nor reprimanded for shutting out. “We just miss you ‘s all.”

A small, appreciative smile popped up on Wilson’s face, which was enough for Natasha. All she wanted was to make sure Sam was alive and well, after all. And to report to Steve that Sam was alive and well. Seconds of awkward silence passed until Natasha uncrossed her arms and took one step forward, in order to attain some sort of intimacy.

“You okay?” she asked endearingly.

“Yep.” Sam popped his lips, failing to sound very convincing.

Another wave of quiet hit the office. Now that Natasha had reached out, perhaps he could get some information from the other side. Asking the former double-agent seemed fitting.

“Is-?” he tried to formulate the question, yet fell short of words.

Noticing his struggling, Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“You’re asking me if James is alright?” she managed to assume, which earned her a hesitant head tilt from her coworker; the redhead couldn’t conceal an amused grin, “I wouldn’t know. You’re so good at avoiding each other, we don’t see any of you anymore.”

However, Wilson didn’t appear as amused. Instead, the spy’s response only made him remember how deeply bad he felt about this whole thing. He wanted to talk to Bucky. He wanted to clear things out, even if Sam himself didn’t know what clear was at that point, but he figured they could decipher it together. For some unknown reason, Sam felt drawn to being in Bucky’s presence. He would often find himself pursuing said presence, without even realizing how willingly. And especially now, he felt the need to confront the man. Maybe he was used to his company, or maybe it was something else. Maybe it had to do with the bond.

“Something on your mind?” Natasha drew him away from his thoughts, yet quickly realized how both oblivious and redundant that sounded, “Besides the obvious.” She tilted her head to the side with sympathy.

Sam thought hard about that one. Yes, there were a million things on his mind at that very second, but he lacked the energy and courage to build an entire therapy session right there and then. The amount of things he could get off his chest would take him hours to go through, probably. Still, there was one specific detail that he considered to be a good start in his process; hopefully, communicating it to someone –with that someone being interested enough to ask– would help.

So he leaned on the desk and sighed, preparing to tell the story as he stared down to his dressing shoes.

"Remember when we were taking down SHIELD... back in the warehouse where they kept Fury." Once he pushed through the opening sentence, he stared up to check on Natasha’s attention.

She nodded, a frown planted on her face, and went back to crossing her arms over her chest. Sam knew she didn’t mean to look unapproachable but was simply attempting to understand him fully. Therefore, he took another breath and continued.

"We had just fought... him."

Sam meant the Winter Soldier. Natasha knew that Sam meant the Winter Soldier. Everyone knew that Sam never referred to the man under brainwash as Bucky, because he knew that that wasn’t Bucky. Bucky was innocent and protective and grumpy and good and Bucky would regret joining the army if it wasn’t for Steve and Bucky had nightmares about everything he did during the war and while under Hydra. The man that all three heroes had fought back in 2014 wasn’t Bucky.

"Yeah." Natasha nodded, allowing him to keep talking.

"Hydra got him at that point, right? And I can't imagine what they did to him, but... back in that warehouse, I started feeling this horrible pain.” He described the scene squinting his eyes, “Like my brain was set on fire."

"You didn't say anything." Romanoff recalled with curiosity.

He shrugged, "You had a gun wound, a headache wasn't exactly a priority to anyone at the moment." He received an understanding look from Natasha, thus agreeing with his better judgement, "Besides, it wasn't the first time."

Another concerning look plastered itself on the woman’s features.

“What do you mean?”

Suddenly, Wilson began regretting opening up in the first place.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, but quickly regained the strength to at least finish the story, “Just… that soulmate bond? I felt it way back. Before Barnes and I met.”

Nobody had knocked on Sam’s door all afternoon, and still, there was a piece of paper that had been clearly slid under it. Whoever had dropped it off didn’t want to face him, which gave him an idea of who that was. He sighed, already emotionally drained from his talk with Natasha, one that had become much longer than anticipated, and bent his back to pick it up from the floor.

Once in his hands, he noticed it was a note. And in it, although there was no signature nor name, an apology he easily trailed back to Bucky.

"I'm sorry for coming at you like that.

I don't think you're obsessed with soulmates.

And you're definitely not crazy.

That would be me, actually."

The former assassin continued to try and find a way out of the situation, and exclusively, a way out that wouldn’t hurt Sam. That was all he cared about, really: not dragging a good and kind man into his mess.

He often locked himself with distracting activities, but lately, he had become much more proactive in not avoiding reality. First, he had slid an apology note under Sam’s door. Now, he needed to come up with a solution.

Googling about soulmate research and crazy theories, he stumbled upon a website, a help group for people who felt their soulmate's bond when it was too late: people who felt the injury that killed their unknown significant-other-to-be. The first testimony was already dark and unnecessarily informative: a woman narrated the sensation of sliced wrists on her untouched skin.

Bucky felt the mix of sadness and frustration revolting his guts, and he shut the laptop closed with a groan. Not only did the thought of people suffering such unjust fates regarding their love-lives disgust him, but it also killed his hope of an escape. If the whole thing could be so cruel to simple human beings, then maybe his bond to Sam was a sick joke.

He decided to walk up to Wilson’s room complex, and this time, he did knock on the door.

The man’s voice was heard from inside, "Come in."

For some reason, the sound of his voice hit Bucky in the stomach. He hadn’t heard him in a while, which wasn’t usual for them, but still, this wasn’t like the other times they had spent time apart. This time, they knew about this weird, unknown and unspoken bond. It could mean that the other had feelings for them, or it could mean they themselves felt things and didn’t even know it.

It was confusing as it was, and now hearing Sam’s voice made it all much more dizzying.

Nevertheless, Bucky gathered up some strength and opened the door. Sam was sitting on his desk, working on a laptop. It looked like he had been taking a little break, by the look of his relaxed body leaned on the chair and the mug of coffee on his hands.

As soon as Sam recognized the person walking into his room, he stood up and abandoned the mug on top of his desk.

"Did you read my note?" Barnes broke the ice.

Sam nodded, suddenly forgetting what to do with one’s hands.

"Yeah."

Bucky replied with a similar nod. The quiet tension surrounding them was too much to ignore, so Bucky simply slid his hands inside the back pocket of his jeans and shut his eyes, preparing for the conversation they were about to have.

"I don't-“ he sighed, still not opening his eyes, and went straight to the point, “I can't be your soulmate."

Sam raised his eyebrows and pretended the sentence didn’t hurt.

"Gee, thanks." He mocked.

"You know we can't." Bucky reiterated in all seriousness when he met Sam’s gaze.

Unfortunately, both men meant completely different things. On his part, Wilson had processed the bond as something tricky, because they hadn’t been best friends in the past. For some time they even believed to dislike each other.

"Yeah, took me by surprise as well. But I doubt there's much we can do about it." The veteran shrugged, doing his best to conceal how unwanted the chat was making him feel.

Bucky scratched his forehead with nervousness.

"If I just... go away." He began, and before Sam could interrupt the presentation of his dumb idea, he raised his palm in somewhat desperation, "Just, hear me out.” He pleaded, “I leave. For good. And eventually you can find someone else."

"That's not-"

"Not how it works, I've heard that.” Bucky spat with frustration, “But what about people who skip the rules? The ones who never have a soulmate. Or the ones who swear they've had two in a lifetime, that's...” the soldier had to stop and breathe after such a declaration, “…we can skip the rules."

After making sure that Barnes was done explaining his brilliant plan, Sam stepped in.

"Sounds awfully romantic for a plan to avoid romance." He said sarcastically.

Bucky knew that behind the jokes, Sam had actually listened and therefore was considering the offer. He let the thought sit in for a few more minutes, but as Sam failed to say anything, which consequentially meant he wasn’t agreeing, the brunette continued to try and convince him.

"I just... it ain't me.” He shook his head, “That's not fair."

Eventually, Wilson started to follow Bucky’s trail of thought. It suddenly didn’t sound like the problem were Bucky’s feelings for him, but Bucky’s feelings about himself.

He frowned, “What, for me?"

Barnes stared at him like he had expected him to understand that ages ago.

"Yeah, you know...” He said now with less confidence, “I'm Barnes. I'm pretty sure this is the universe punishing you for something."

The former assassin had a rapid intrusive thought about how he didn’t use to believe in bigger purposes, and now that he was part of one, any divine reason behind a soulmate bond could potentially make sense to him.

"Unless you got a dark past we haven't heard about, you don't deserve this." He finally added, making sure they were on the same page.

The total picture finally kicked into Sam’s brain.

"Is that why you think I don't like this situation? Your baggage?"

On his part, Bucky kept thinking that he was in the right, so he figured Sam wouldn’t have the nicest opinion on the matter.

"Just forget it, okay? I'm telling you I can be out here by tomorrow.” He insisted, avoiding the subject of his baggage, “Just don't tell Steve or he'll try to convince-"

"Do you think-“ Sam cut him off, raising his voice, “Do you think I don't want you as my soulmate because you used to be the Winter Soldier?"

By then, it was Bucky who felt a little in the dark.

"I mean..."

"No! It's because you're annoying as hell!” Sam snapped, his disbelief becoming plain anger, “And this is the perfect example. You didn't even let me face you, you jumped- no, sprinted to conclusions, and can't even hold a proper conversation without trash talking over me."

The fact that Sam actually wanted to give the bond a try got through Bucky’s thick skull after weeks of denying the possibility of it. And it should have made him joyful, to know that Sam didn’t view him like some sad obligation or cruel punishment. He wanted to be happy about it, but receiving a scolding from Wilson never failed to offend him. It was sort of their dynamic.

Bucky’s shocked expression turned into a tantrum-like one, "Oh, like you're so amazing yourself!"

"Trust me, I am amazing.” Sam flaunted himself with a big accusatory hint in his tone, “I'm over here trying to discuss things, despite you being emotionally unavailable.”

Barnes wanted to comeback, to interrupt Sam with a winning argument, but there was none. He hadn’t given any situation a try; not talking to Sam when he found out in the first place, not communicating their mindsets, not listening. He found himself at a loss of words, his mouth gaping and closing again. Sam continued to get hyped up in the worse way possible.

“You keep saying how you'll leave the tower forever, meanwhile I'm-"

Bucky’s loss of words turned into a raging wave of bravery. The knot in his stomach made him feel impulsive, and the sensation that just trying would solve everything pushed him to do the unthinkable.

He interrupted not with an insult, but with a kiss. He took two large leaps in order to close the gap between them, grabbed Sam’s face by each side and collided their lips roughly. The messy mouth crashing against his took Sam by surprise, but he easily gave in, which not only allowed Bucky to continue, but also to tidy the contact. They became gentle, their lips mending with each other like fitting puzzle pieces, and instantly moving in synchrony.

The hands that were holding Sam’s face lowered to the back of his neck, which Bucky held sweetly with his flesh thumb running up and down his nape. It only took Sam half a second to react and hold Bucky’s waist, dragging him close until their chests were impossibly together. They could both feel the other’s heartbeats thumping and decreasing their rapid rate as they reacted to each other’s caresses.

Nothing could have prepared them for how right it felt to have their heads spinning, stomach churning, warmth setting a home inside their ribcages.

As soon as one of them ended the contact and their wet lips were feeling cold without the other, both pairs of wide eyes met in shock.

"Oh." Sam let out.

The onomatopoeia not only let Bucky know that Sam wasn’t expecting the chemistry either, but also that the chemistry had been just as explosive for Sam as well. The brunette stepped back, losing his grip on Sam’s shoulders and losing Sam’s grip on his own waist.

"Yeah." He let out with a breath, agreeing.

Sam copied Barnes and stepped back as well, allowing some distance between them while they let what they had just felt sink in.

A frown took over Sam’s eyebrows.

"I still kinda hate you, though."

Bucky let a small chuckle escape, "God, this is so stupid." He said before engaging in a penetrant stareoff, which he lost; he glanced at the door and ran one hand down his face, "I'm gonna go. Not walking away from a discussion, just... leaving it at that." He defended himself although he wasn’t being accused of anything.

Still, the second that he stepped out the door and into the hallway, Sam spoke in hopes of being heard by the long gone figure.

"That's the definition of walking out."

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sam wilson x bucky barnes #soulmate au #sambucky fanfic #marvel fanfiction #ftws #the falcon and the winter soldier #angst #fluff #tw: suicide #tw: self harm #sam wilson/bucky barnes

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evien-stark · 4 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 144

[Dear readers there’s a couple of trigger warnings for this chapter which include a suicide attempt, physical violence, wounds involving blood and burning, and people being ordered to hang themselves. Not in gratuitous detail for any of these things, but still there. Kilgrave territory is the worst. Please be safe and happy!] It was intensely hard to focus on work and Tony at the same time. Mostly because all you wanted to do was sit by Tony’s bedside. Talk to him. Comfort him. Wish none of this was happening. But thankfully after a couple of hours the nurses came in and gave him something for his fresh wave of pain as the anesthetic was completely wearing off. That knocked him back into woozy and drifting territory, so that made it easier to make a few calls. Set some things up.

When Happy appeared in the doorway, Tony was completely down for the count. It didn’t feel right taking off. Leaving him here without a word. Even now you could still feel that simmering worry he was holding onto. Worried for you. Worried how this was going to end. What lengths you would go to to force that hand. Even unconscious, he was still worrying.

But your mind was made up. And even still waiting for the next ping on the map, you had to go clean up. A small team from Damage Control was going to meet you at the defunct CDC facility. You’d wanted Maria to go but she was apparently on leave helping Coulson with something- a conversation for a later date. It was obvious that she probably didn’t really work for you, and was just biding her time in the position until she could branch to something more meaningful to her. Probably something with Fury, you wouldn’t doubt. Whenever that moment came.

Either way. There was no use dwelling on it. Happy was a little hesitant as he waited by the door, cat carrier in hand. You had to physically invite him in with a gentle pull of his arm. Already he wanted to leave, it was easy to sense that. So you had to force him to stay. “I have to go.” Stated as calmly as possible as you took the carrier from him, knelt down, and opened the door to allow Dvahli out.

The second she padded onto the floor you picked her up in your arms, crushing her close without hurting her. Hoping she understood how sorry you were for the mess. For the loud sounds. The terrors. And for disappearing immediately after all of it. Maybe somewhere in her she understood. She started purring up a storm. But maybe that was also her just shaking with the need for security and love after what had just happened.

As you stood up and set her on Tony’s bed, Happy shuffled nervously. “Sure. I’ll stay. How long has he been out for?” Asking simpler questions probably in an attempt to delay you from going somewhere neither of you wanted you to go.

“Only a little while. He’s been in and out. He’s also fine. He’ll make a full recovery.” Not fine just yet but he’d get there- and also probably argue that he was. Even now. But the point of saying it was to calm Happy so that he’d stay in the room, not just guard the door. And hopefully have a talk when Tony woke back up. Because they desperately needed to. This could not go unchecked.

“Glad to hear it.” A hot flash of self-made disappointment spiked through him, along with a heavy fall of gloom. Things he was quick to shove aside. “Where are you going?”

“I have to clean up the recent mess Kilgrave made.” There was no need to mention after that you’d have to go on the hunt. To end this.

Happy stopped you at the door, just as you reached to open it. His hand covered yours and his gaze was serious. “When’s the last time you slept?”

The question surprised you, almost as much as that touch did, but as you lifted your hand you understood why. And then suddenly wondered how long your hands had been shaking for. “I honestly don’t know.” Truly. You truly could not remember the last time you laid down in a bed and closed your eyes for a little bit. Two days? Three?

Adrenaline, fear, and responsibility were the only things powering you now. ...and maybe a little bit of an animalistic need for revenge. But you were scared to admit that even to yourself for more than a couple of seconds. Happy frowned. “Can this wait? Can you just take a few hours?”

Already you were shaking your head. “No.” Firm. Not needing to give him an explanation as to why. You had to go to work. You had to keep moving. Otherwise this was going to get further and further away from you.

In that moment, as he looked at you, he just seemed so… sad. Sad for you. What life had become. And perhaps sad over his lack of control, his inability to do anything to help you. He could no longer whisk you away and keep you safe inside a house. How long ago that lifetime was. “Just- be careful, okay? And come back. Soon.” He couldn’t do anything else but serve these platitudes.

“As soon as I can.” This at least you could promise. You wanted this to be over, for sure.

All you had to do was make it happen.

---

Despite not being able to sleep you did head home for a quick shower and to just… take in the place. Happy had done his best in trying to clean up, by picking up overturned furniture and… wiping blood spatters off the wall and floors- ...it was something, but not enough. Though that wasn’t his fault. There was just a lingering hopelessness that seemed to permeate everything. It was hard to ignore as you took the quickest shower of your life and changed clothes.

Eager to not only get out of there but to be on your way to hopefully closing the rest of this out. It seemed premature to hope for that but… you were foolish, you supposed. It was hard not to hope.

Damage Control had blocked off press from the building and had already begun cleanup by the time you got inside. The room looked so much different, considering you’d only been away from it for what- you only just realized your sense of time had slipped. You really had no idea. Better not to dwell on it.

One of the panels of Kilgrave’s cells had been shot out, broken glass and dirty water were all over the floor. Not to mention puddles of blood on the floor of the cell, as you stepped closer. A pair of scissors had been barred off with an evidence marker.

There was a body bag on the floor near the upturned desk. The computer was trashed- but the camera on its tripod still stood. Going over closer you checked the tape. One of the agents came over. “We watched it back. It’s pretty clear what happened.”

“Mum, for every year that you left me alone, stab yourself.” Kilgrave’s voice was so eerily calm as he commanded her. You had to turn your head down. No use in watching it- in watching him murder another person. The whole room erupted into panic on the tape. Jessica tried to push the shock button- it failed- she went in to get them- Trish shot the glass out-

God what a fucking mess. If you’d just stayed… if you’d only just stayed here… the body in that bag so close to your feet would be alive. Maybe Kilgrave would be dead. Maybe this would all be over by now. But at the cost of Tony’s life?

...that was it, wasn’t it? That was the conclusion that had been drawn here. You’d picked Tony’s life over someone else’s. There had been no way for you to know that Jessica would have gone to these lengths, that this would have fallen apart this way- but if you’d just stayed in that room- if you’d just finished it a little sooner…

“I want-” Your voice was wobbly as it came out, and you cleared your throat to stand a little sturdier. “Hold all evidence right now under A-files. We’ll hand over to the police when we’re finished. We have an enhanced running around, and nothing is to be released to the public until we bring him in.”

The agent gave you a small nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else for me?” You needed to get on the move. This helped you paint a clearer picture of the severity of the situation, but really… you hadn’t needed to come down here to see all this.

“The police were called to Wendy Ross-Hogarth’s apartment a couple hours ago. From the chatter we pulled, it seemed like she’d been killed by Pamela Romeit- self defense. Wendy was attacking Jeri Hogarth.”

What a fucking mess. There was your ping on Jeri. Okay. So… Jessica apparently thought Jeri had something to do with Kilgrave’s release. So Jeri had brought Kilgrave somewhere. Kilgrave turned on her, probably commanded Wendy to attack her- for what reason? There were too many blanks- but. They’d been caught. Pam- whoever that was- Jeri’s life was also a fucking mess. At least the two of you had that in common. Though maybe not in the same way. And you didn’t have enough time or energy to spare pulling the threads together of who did what or why or who was important to Jeri in what way.

No use thinking about it now. You just nodded weakly. “Okay. Any mention of a male on the premises?” You doubted it. The situation over there had spiraled into chaos. He’d turned on Jeri, even if she’d brought him there for whatever reason. He was definitely not there anymore. But you still had to ask.

“No, ma’am.” At least you were prepared for this disappointment.

There was a sudden commotion in the hallway. Just about every agent in the room drew their guns, yet all heads turned your way to look for direction. On edge as you were, you double tapped the Reactor and led the small squad outside. Someone behind you started giving orders. “Hands up! Now!”

Two men you’d never seen before- no, scratch that. “You were outside Jessica’s house.” The same tall man- blond you could see now in proper lighting- projecting some very dangerously angry energy. The other man you’d never seen before. An older gentleman, graying hair, grizzled-

As you inspected him he started speaking, “My name is Oscar Clemons. I’m a detective with the NYPD, 15th precinct.” On closer inspection he looked pretty hurt. Not that that made you trust him. However, “I came here with Jessica Jones.”

“Oh.” It was more a breath than anything. “You’re her cop.” The one she’d been trying to get. You held a hand up to signal your agents to lower their guns and then you pointed at the other man. “What’s your name? All I know is that your a friend of Trish’s.”

“Will Simpson. Where is Trish?” He was avoiding looking at you. Frantically he was looking around. “Trish called me- I need to see her- where is Trish?”

Nodding to your agent closest, “Cuff him.”

“Me? Are you out of your fucking mind, lady?” That explosive spark lit up as he gnashed his teeth your way.

“You brought three men with you to kill Kilgrave the first night I saw you. You’re still hunting him.” This was the only thing that made sense. And he’d only get in the way of what you had to do.

As two agents approached him he held a gun up. “You can’t just arrest me- you don’t have a charge- you’re not even-”

“I am an official member of the Avengers and this entire debacle is now under our jurisdiction.” Projecting as much authority as you possibly could. “We’re dealing with an enhanced. That falls into our territory.”

Will scoffed. “Make that two.” Said about as swiftly as the reel back of his arm to punch one of your DC agents right back into a wall. Would this ever fucking end?

Now that he’d cleared himself you held both hands up to get a repulsor blast off, sending him straight down the corridor and through the wall. With a quick lift of your jets you flew the rest of the way down to meet him, yanking him so that you could wheel him around onto his back and smash him onto the ground. “That’s assault with a deadly weapon.” Pinning both his wrists in one hand and putting your other one between his shoulder blades to keep him down. Even with his struggling.

He had a little extra strength, but he was no Jessica Jones. No Captain America. That was for sure. An agent came to a running stop, uncapping a syringe and injecting it into the side of Will’s neck. His raging and screaming died down in a matter of seconds. Turning him over onto his side, the agent gave him a patdown. You were almost surprised at the sudden rattling of not one but three pill bottles behind held up your way. “Ma’am.”

You took hold of them, examining the clear bottles. No labels. Just red, white, and blue pills. Nothing like you’d ever seen. And… probably not good news. Did this trail ever fucking end? Jessica Jones’ world was just… too full. You shook your head. “Bag them and have them brought to the labs.”

“And this guy?”

“Put him in our holding cell.” He’d have to be questioned. And maybe charged. It would entirely depend on how you felt once he came to. Or what you were dealing with. Going over to the agent he’d slammed against the wall, you knelt down. “You alright?”

She held a hand to her head, bleeding from her temple, but god bless her, “I’m okay, ma’am. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just go get checked out. You’re done for the day. For as long as you need.” It wasn’t easy. Doing this work. Being this close to danger almost constantly.

It seemed like she wanted to fight but she just wilted. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” Her superior officer had relieved her. There was no fighting against that.

Standing up you eyed down Clemons. “You got something for me too?” Tired as you asked.

He held one hand up- and you noted he was cradling his other bandaged one to his chest. “No. I’ll be glad to wash my hands of all this. This case belongs with your people.”

“You were here. When Kilgrave escaped.” Explained why he was still lingering around. Why he was surprised to see your people here. And why he was hurt.

“I was. Yes.” At least he was forthcoming. Any more interference and you really might have just collapsed. Or imploded. Not sure yet which. When you waited in silence for him to expand he just sighed. “Jessica took off with his father. They want to make a vaccine.”

“Vaccine?” ...for Kilgrave? To nullify his powers? Was that possible?

“Yeah. They think it’ll stop the guy. I don’t know about all that. I just know that I witnessed a murder. And have been made to realize I’ve been dragging my feet. But. Now that you’re here…”

You couldn’t help the long sigh that escaped you. “Yeah. I’m here now.” A better debrief had to be had, but your phone started ringing. Probably not a good sign in all of this. Turning away from him with a finger held up, panic touched up your chest as you saw it was a number associated with Hope Shlottman. “Hello?”

Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised you anymore, to hear Kilgrave’s voice on the other end of your phone. “Puppy. I think we have a lot we still need to talk about, don’t you?”

“If you hurt that girl-”

“That’s the thing of it, puppy. I’m trying to show you I’m not such an irredeemable monster. I’ve released Hope. For you. And for Jessica. It was such a big sticking point for the both of you and now we can be done with it. Does that make me less worthy of cold-blooded murder, I wonder?”

You allowed yourself to freeze over, just to avoid the other feelings trying to crawl through you. “Why don’t you tell me where you are. And we’ll talk about it.”

He chuckled. “So like you. But I’m feeling very generous. Tell you what. You can join us for dinner. You and Jessica both. She knows where I am. Pity she didn’t invite you like I asked. Had a feeling she wouldn’t.” His delighted laughter continued until the line cut.

Jessica would not answer her phone right now, of this you were sure. She hadn’t wanted Trish to contact you, either. She no longer wanted you involved. But you had to figure out where she was- you had to get her to talk to you- your brain started scrambling. The clock was ticking. Waving your hand at the gaggle of agents still taking statements and cleaning up you started making quick commands, “I need a squad deployed immediately-”

“Where to, ma’am? What level of force are we dealing with?”

“The threat level is high- mind control- this is a DNE until my signal-” You started texting Jessica. Eventually, quickly, settling on: Kilgrave just asked me to come to dinner. Where is he? Where are you?

You had to ignore the stares of everyone in the hallway, waiting for you to give an answer while you stared at your phone. You just had to hope. Hope she was figuring out going alone was not in anyone’s best interest-

And, finally, you were rewarded with an answer:

Niku.

That was it. Just that one word. So you rolled your arm up. “I need a squad directed at the restaurant Niku. Clean up team on backup.” The strong answer drowned out underneath the boost of your jets as you jumped down the stairwell again and took off. This was the second time you’d flown this particular coop with just as much urgency. LUNA already lit up a path for you. Niku was located in the Nolita- and it took you too long to get there.

You were sweating in your suit. Drenched in fear. You’d make it there before your agents would but even then you felt like that still wouldn’t be enough. The restaurant was not as empty as you thought as you came in for a landing. But it was the way the heat signatures were positioned that brought you on a crash course through the back wall of the restaurant.

Four people were standing on top of the bar, nooses around their neck. Kilgrave was within ten feet of you- obtainable. You could end him now- he had an older man in a half hug- his father you barely recognized from the tape. Jessica was standing on the other end of the table-

And Hope-

Hope had just shoved the broken stem of a wine glass into her neck and promptly yanked it back out, blood splashing everywhere as her knees gave out. Kilgrave lit up in terror- you were here and you could end this. “STEP FORWARD!”

Your mind started a dizzying rush. Kilgrave was running. Running away with his father. Hope was bleeding out. The people on the bar stepped off and started struggling. And as you half turned, mind made up to go after him and finish this, Jessica shouted, “If you let her die you’re just as much of a monster as he is!”

How? How had it come to this? How did Jessica Jones have any right to ask you to save one life over the lives of hundreds of others?

Yet there you were. Dropping to an immediate kneel. Commanded by her guilt almost as much the same as when Kilgrave had yanked you around by your proverbial leash. “LUNA what are my options here?” Trembling as you held her in your arms, pressing your hand over her neck. She was gurgling.

“She’s losing too much blood. We can heat up the repulsor plate without launching to cauterize the wound-” “Just do it.” Resigned to this. To doing what you had to do. Hope’s arms reached up, wildly trying to hold on to anything. “Keep still- hold on-” Hearing the charge of the repulsor.

“We’re at sustainable temperature, ma’am!”

The sizzle of flesh and her screams were probably branded somewhere inside of your brain forever. But you sat through them. Sat through her struggles. Through welding her skin shut so she wouldn’t bleed out and die. Because that’s what you’d been told to do.

You’d been ordered to save Hope Shlottman instead of going to end Kilgrave.

She passed out a few seconds in. About around the same time Jessica had gotten everyone down from hanging, by yanking the pipe they were tied to and letting them slide off onto the floor. Damage Control erupted on the scene as you sat there, a little empty. Their guns were drawn. They were barking orders. Hands up. Back away. And then…

“Ma’am.” Kilgrave had taken his father. Kilgrave had escaped. Tony was in a hospital bed. A woman was in a body bag in a messy room. What was it all for? “Ma’am?” Someone put their hand on your shoulder.

It was a weak snap to, but you managed. “Take her- she needs medical attention. Immediately. Take her to our wing of the hospital.”

“Ma’am, is the enhanced still on the property?”

You looked up. Jessica was holding to herself tightly, arms crossed, staring back at you. Her heavy guilt might have made this okay. But there was just a small light of triumph. So you couldn’t help the glare when you answered, “No. He’s not.”

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Forty Four #Jessica Jones Spoilers

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 5 years

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Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Denmark to Eurovision with a cute multilingual jingle

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Dansk Melodi Grand Prix is... a NF I don’t really have anything to say about. Like, you expect me to rile up 3 big paragraphs about the pre-NF dramas and what-not, but honestly... what’s the point.

Well, aside from the fact people did not really get excited over the lineup this year. Me neither from the names alone, actually. Even last year was more interesting to look at despite with another lineup of songs you can’t give a fuck about and then move on - I noticed they had Sannie who used to be known as Whigfield (”Saturday Night” <3333 the duck quacks <333), Ditte Marie (anyone remembers “Overflow” from 2012?) and Albin Fredy (which seems to be the same Albin that brought me my one of the two DMGP 2013 favourite songs, “Beautiful to Me”???). This year was a big “WHO IS SHE?? WHERE DID YOU FIND HER???”, so I just left DMGP in the corner where it picked cobwebs until not too long ago when someone got chosen.

Well, this NF keeps being a NF where I don’t personally feel too emotionally fucked about any of them entries, so that’s a big plus in my book, which will mean that I won’t throw a “THIS WAS ROBBED!!!1″ post on Denmark NF-wise... at least this year and the last year because I really loved “Venter” in 2012 and the said “Beautiful to Me” and “Invincible” in 2013 (I also liked “Only Teardrops” but I was mad its victory was so obvious xD). As for why I like it when the NFs don’t toy with my feelings, A Dal 2019 is an obvious demonstration, but more on that on my Hungarian writeup, which is significantly longer than this one - that’s how much of a demonstration it is.

Anyway, let’s talk about the chosen song, shall we? Performed by a smol skater girlie Leonora (Jepsen), here comes “Love Is Forever”, which was co-penned by the ever-so-notorious Lise Cabble - the champ-mastress of writing Eurovision songs for the Danes (by that I mean she wrote their 1995 entry... and then none of her entries got chosen for ESC until 2011 lol). And this is a significally softer turn of hers compared to “Only Teardrops” - ever since Anna Ritsmar in 2018′s DMGP, she tends to write cute, acoustic tunes sung by young ladies with their lil cute and lil crispy voices. “Love Is Forever” is just that, tbh.

Well THAT and also it sounds like a lovely acoustic background song for those funny photos/student quotes/test answers/etc. compilation videos on Youtube (I actually am talking about the channel Scoop, because other kinds of compilation videos use Youtube Audio Library-like pop songs or something straight off NoCopyrightSounds). Or the theme song for a TV programme for animals. Or the theme song for a children's programme they show at hospitals. There's so many places you can insert it into, I guess. At the same time it feels like a cupcake with pink frosting that tastes nice. And a cup of warm cocoa with whipped cream and sprinkles. It's a delightful bite. Yum.

Realistically though, the song itself has an easy noddable-along-to rhythm, cute violin string plucks, the capability to melodically progress to sound even more joyful (I mean, the chorus just adds more and more layers of brass as it keeps repreating, just giving it a bit more of a typical Scoop channel background music material), the D flat major key of this song’s uplifts the spirits of this whole shebang and it also somehow includes lines in some more languages than expected in a Danish song ever, how odd it seems like??? And it’s especially given that we haven’t really heard Danish in a song since like what, 1997?? We only got “shout insh’allah” and “taka stökk til hærri jörð, taka” ever since then, and these aren’t remotely Danish lines. But this year we’re getting some Danish, and French, and even German. Feeling the love in multilingual. L’amour est pour toujours, y’all! Liebe IST für alle da!

There are also people that aren’t buying into the song all that much because Leonora looks way too creepy to sell a song about love love peace peace, like someone emerging out of a demented cabaret. I suppose that other people think that this song was forced onto Leonora when she didn’t really want it, and now has to pretend that we have to spread love to the world, make friendships with others, don’t get too political, and then act all supercool about it. The saddest bit that she does sound like that person that would sing a song like that... young, with a passion for skating, looks like a person that could probably hug you when you least expect it, the one that posts light purple sweater pictures with a glitter effect applied to them on Tumblr, the one who would wear white mittens with a giant red snowflake painted on/knitted into them... I don’t know if that’s all Leonora wanted to compete with in DMGP to make a breakthrough with her singing career after skating so darn much, and if she even believes in what is she singing (this is my rare reminder of the war situation in Israel that’s going on, and I’ll probably never have to speak of this again in any writeup, hopefully. Yeah sure, love is for ever...), but I somehow buy it, sue me. Those acoustics and that touch of brass instruments won me over.

So my final thoughts on this song is that it’s a joyball with that kind of song message so overused I cannot be angry on it because it’s not slapped on a dreary Russian peace ballad - it’s a singer-songwriter-esque small showtune, which makes it all seem a lot different because love is cute and this song is cute. So I guess I have no issues with it, whereas I can’t stand the aforementioned Russian peace ballads all that much because if you remove the good singers singing it, they’re cliché af; “Wars for Nothing” (Hungary 2015) sounded too innocent while having a full gun tree serving as a backdrop for them and if you looked too much into Boggie’s eyes, you could very well feel her penetrating your soul with war imagery; and Iceland last year was a knock-off Russian peace ballad that sounded too good to be unbearably dreary and the vocalist wasn’t even a belting girl. So yeah, I like it. More adorable songs about spreading love, less overdone ballads about world peace.

Thing is though, why did she really dress like a barista from a late-night-open cocktail club? I get that looking like a princess à la Maria Olafs won't cut it anymore as it would look way more saccharine, but Leonora is up like she's there to serve you your damn drink as soon as possible so she could go outside for a small smoke break, not to advertise love. Watch me make "when you have Eurovision at 9 and job at a cocktail bar at 11" memes on the night of the 16th. Seriously, her image barely even fucking suits the song!

Approval factor: Well, one of my faves won DMGP again, for the 2nd time in a row, so why wouldn’t I approve? ^_^ Love from me is forever!

Follow-up factor: For Denmark it kind of seems like a decent follow-up? For all those out here that remember Denmark as the nation that plagiarises every other entry, it would just seem logical for them to finally send a generic royalty free ukulele song for Youtube videos. Which is spectacular! No one knows which song did this one exactly plagiarize - the entire concept was ripped off! Jokes aside, it’s an interesting one after Rasmussen. After a song that urges you to lay your weapons down in a war and go find higher ground more peacefully, we’re now getting a morale on the fact that love is for ever and everyone. Isn’t it sweet. I’d rather these than a bland love song about laying down armours and guns. ^_^

Qualification factor: depends. For now I feel like writing it off because to the 1% of the people who’ve already heard this song beforehand and hate this song, the whole thing feels like “love :) is :) forever :) please love everyone you little shit :) :) :)”. To some others however, like Luke Malam from ESCXtra, it’s a song that definitely makes them feel the love being forever, just like “yaaaay we love each other and the world yaaaay!!! ^o^”, so it’s perhaps a bit of a mixed bag. I wanna see it through though, just as much as I want to see Lithuania, about which I will be talking next in these write-ups. But I see it very much so as a borderline because... idk, just a gut feeling. Sometimes songs that ooze loveliness just don’t quite get themselves across the other hand side of the viewer thus they don’t really qualify, for example, Finland 2012, another song sung by a lady better known as a sportswoman rather than a singer (but maybe that’s just because there was too much intimacy of hers with her and her celloist’s mom, and she looked too awkward to pass the intimacy to the viewers so they too could feel the loving bond and the life metaphors coming from a Finnish entrant singing in Swedish). For now from me it’s a positive borderline. Yes, I think that it probably will make it and we’ll see that large Ikea chair prop with many people swaying to the rhythm on it next to Leonora on Saturday as well.

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

Even with me not having much to say about DMGP, I will go ahead and cherrypick the favourite songs from the event:

• The big favourite of mine this year was brought by Julie & Nina, who served a bilingual schlager-like midtempo track, “League of Light”. Hats off to sounding properly Eurovision-y but without using a “rent-a-NF-songwriter” songwriter for to write this! It’s soaring, majestic, somewhat memorable and inclused Greenlandic. Yeah. Do you believe that this would have been a year where we could’ve gotten more exotic Language spins? Now we have lost both Aboriginal and Greenlandic out of Eurovision, hopefully just for this year so the languages can return again sometime. I’m proud of these women being so courageous and delighting some that really wanted schlager pop that still can click with some that are bored of Eurovision NF schlager cliches. Oh and this song is in A flat minor, probably one of my favourite keys in music. Not too bad, everything this was, although the aggression they transmitted through the song during their live DMGP performance kiiiiinda made them looked like pissed-off housewives imo?

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• Them both and this guy below, Sigmund, were picked to the superfinal to compete against Leonora. What was Sigmund’s contribution and why did he deserve to be there so much? Well, I really love his colourful flamboyant electropop track that has piano influences, “Say My Name”, which lyrically reflects on the song’s protagonists big power that he will probably have if only the invisible force Sigmund’s singing to would just “say [his] name”. And I definitely think he deserved his spot over some really nice pop entries that the fandom definitely overrated. Oh and the song is in A flat minor too. Maybe I’m biased, maybe I’m not. You judge. >:)

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• See, I don't feel like talking about the DMGP songs this year. It's a cool bunch of songs that some of them I like but nothing quite outstanding to talk about beyond those I already have paragraphs for. Well maybe you'd like to look up the entries by Humorekspressen (for to get a pub singalong song) and Jasmine Gabay (for to get yet another Latino-influenced Havana club track). But that's it. Here from me the last one you'll be getting is Simone Emilie with her teen-flavoured light radiofriendly dance-ish song "Anywhere". Why didn't it do better despite having the power to click with the Eurofans quite much? Well, maybe it's because her backdrop and the fairytale-esque dress went for another kind of atmosphere than it was required to have on the song.

• I don't know, I just find this particular winning reaction shot funny. Not sure if she's yawning or being like "yaaaazs bitchesss ;) 😄 ✨" in here. I gotta say - her lipstick was definitely on fleek that night.

That guy below her takes the cake at making this shot memorable too. Do you want the invisible meal Leonora is about to take a bite of too?

And besides that moment I don’t really have any on-show moments besides songs that were somewhat memorable. Why do Danes always have to be this vanilla in the Nordic country barrage, I will never get. That’s it. That’s their crime. Of being average. And being sued for plagiarism a lot in the past.

For now I’d just wish Leonora good luck in Tel Aviv and show ‘em that love can and will prevail before hatred does, if only people remember to love... ah wait, wrong kind of philosophy.

#eurovision 2019 #tel aviv 2019 reviews #denmark 2019 #leonora #love is forever #denmark

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zaolat · 6 years

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Consequences

so my salty ass hates the Fall of Osiris comic with every fiber of my being so i wrote a fix it fic that ignores it entirely lmao

tagging @dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd and @littleshebear in it because their salt fuels mine, as well as @house-of-kells because their fix it fic inspired this one

the Speaker is mine now and Bungo can’t have him back

note: if the formatting messes up just read it on my blog it’s being fucky for some reason (edit: yep it’s being fucky just click the readmore it fixes it i swear)

“Ikora,” the Speaker says warmly as the younger Warlock enters the Observatory. “Thank you for coming. I am sorry to pull you away from your duties, especially at a time like this.”

Osiris’ apprentice looks nervous, and he does not blame her. Especially with the responsibilities she has had to take up. The Fallen are only a week away, marching on the City en-masse, and their Vanguard Commander is nowhere to be found. Lost in his own...obsession. Stirring up conflict in the City at a time when they need unity the most.

The doors close behind her, and she glances back, her Ghost’s nodes shifting nervously from where he hovers over her shoulder. The Speaker’s own Ghost gives a sigh, noting their obvious discomfort. [“Relax. You’re not in trouble.”]

Ikora’s shoulders sag a bit, the tension easing out of them, and she stands up straighter, her expression morphing into one of professionalism. “What’s this about, Speaker?”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping a bit, looking away from Ikora briefly to glance out over the Traveler, the City. Everything looks peaceful from up here, as if nothing is wrong. But that’s far from the case. The Fallen are marching on their walls en-masse and the people are in a state of panic while the Guardians prepare.

And where is their Vanguard Commander?

Everywhere but where he’s supposed to be, apparently.

His former apprentice has lost his way. And while he sees what he is trying to do, this is neither the time nor the place for it. So they must do what has to be done.

Does he want to? Does he take any pleasure in stripping his former apprentice of everything he’s worked so hard for? No. But they cannot continue like this.

“You and I both know what this is about,�� the Speaker says forlornly, turning back to Ikora again. She says nothing, but her expression says more than any words could ever say. “How goes the coordinating of the Warlock Orders?”

“I will have to ask Osiris-”

“Ikora.” He holds up a hand, shaking his head. “You don’t have to lie to me. I know you’re covering for him.”

She sighs, as if she’s been expecting this conversation. In all honesty, she probably has. “Someone had to,” she says firmly. “His...research is very important, Speaker.”

“Yes...his research. Vex simulations and timelines. Did any of his research tell us the Fallen would be marching on our doorstep?”

“I...I don’t know. He never mentioned anything of the sort.”

“Hmph.” He folds his hands behind his back, pacing in front of her. He’s trying to hide his own anxiety about the entire situation - Osiris has been a valuable asset, especially after his actions at Six Fronts. But that was then. What has he done recently but obsess over the Vex? “Research is important. And maybe he’s right. Maybe these...simulations he speaks of could help us predict the future. But the thing about the future is that it is always in motion. But what good is all of that if it turns their attention on us? Right now they largely ignore us, unless we are on Mars or Venus or Mercury. Osiris speaks of the Vex as a threat, but what good is all of that, what good is all this talk of the future, if the very real threat in the present is ignored? If we ignore this threat there will be no future.”

Ikora is silent for a few moments, a conflicted expression on her face. Her Ghost looks between the Speaker and his Ghost, as if trying to read them. The older Warlock sighs, taking a few steps closer to the two of them. “Ikora…”

Ikora closes her eyes briefly, then opens them. “It’s not,” she admits. “He’s obsessed, Speaker. I couldn’t pull him away, even to talk about the defense of the City. He just told me the Vex are the real threat.”

[“He and Sagira barely even acknowledge our presence anymore,”] Ikora’s Ghost says, sounding insulted on the behalf of both him and his Guardian. And though Osiris may not think so, it is an insult. It’s easy to see that Ikora Rey is brilliant, well respected among all Guardians.

The Speaker sighs. So this is what it comes down to. Osiris won’t even listen to his own apprentice. “Something must be done.”

“But what?! Speaker, I know he has lost his way, but-”

He holds up a hand, and she falls silent. He sighs. This entire situation is giving him a headache. He hates putting her in a position like this, where she must choose between the people she loves and her duty to the City.

“I know you care greatly about him. He is your mentor. He was my apprentice, too. But we can both see how far he has fallen. We need our Vanguard Commander now more than ever. And he is simply not there.”

“I know.” The words are like an admission of guilt, Ikora’s carefully crafted expression falling. She has had to be so strong for so long, to carry the burden that shouldn’t be hers.

“You’ve been coordinating the Warlock Orders, and have handled the responsibility with grace. I would ask that you continue to do so, for the time being,” the Speaker says, moving forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

She doesn’t shrug him off, instead looking straight at him, as if she could see his expression through his mask. If she could, she’d see a million different emotions. Anger, sorrow, regret. He closes his eyes briefly and sighs, drawing his free hand down over his mask.

“And what of Osiris?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Speaker sighs again, tearing his gaze away from Ikora’s. “I need your help, Ikora. You are the one person he may still listen to. And if not him, I know Sagira values your input.”

“I don’t think he’ll listen to anyone at this point. Not even me,” Ikora admits quietly. She sighs and pulls away from him, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closing briefly. He can’t imagine how frustrated she is, to have her own mentor brush her off. Someone she was supposed to be able to rely on. “What do we do in the meantime?”

The Speaker sighs. This is the part that will be the hardest, for both of them. He folds his hands in front of him, and she stands only a few feet away, a questioning look on her face. But her eyes are full of conflict. He can see worry, anger, and doubt in them. And he doesn’t blame her one bit.

“I have spoken with the other members of the Vanguard and the faction leaders,” he says, and Ikora makes a noise of surprise. A Consensus meeting that Osiris wasn’t invited to. “Off the record. For now, we have agreed to strip Osiris of his role as Vanguard Commander and Warlock Vanguard.”

Ikora gives a deep, long sigh. She knew this was coming. They both did. [“Who will coordinate the defense of the City?”] her Ghost asks, his nodes shifting and voice full of worry.

“Lord Saladin has stepped up as temporary Vanguard Commander for the duration of this crisis. And you have done a fine job coordinating the Warlock Orders in his place. I would ask you continue to do so.”

She straightens, and in that moment he is proud of her. She has stepped up when no one else has, in a time of deep conflict both in the City and outside it. She will make a fine Warlock Vanguard, when this is all over. “It would be my honor.”

“I know you will do the job well,” the Speaker replies warmly, placing both his hands on her shoulders, and she gives the smallest of smiles. But then she is all business.

“Something still needs to be done about Osiris.”

“Go to him. Try to make him see sense, and inform him of what we and the Consensus have discussed here. If he refuses to see reason, further action may be required.” Ikora nods firmly, but there’s conflict in her eyes again. They both know what “further action” means. And neither of them want to do that. But something unspoken passes between them at that moment. Sacrifices must be made, even at great personal cost.

For the good of the City.

He lets his hands fall off her shoulders, and then she’s all business, nodding to him respectfully. “I will go to him immediately. Hopefully, he will at least see reason.”

They both know their fellow Warlock is too stubborn to do such a thing.

“Take a contingent of Guardians with you, just in case. He always has those...cultists, hanging around him. As much as he dislikes them, he does little to dissuade them. We don’t know how they’ll react. And...thank you, Ikora.”

She nods to him, and he motions for his Ghost to open the doors. She strides with purpose out into Tower North, and he watches her go, both pride and sorrow in his eyes beneath the mask.

Nothing will be the same after this.

The doors close behind Ikora and her Ghost, and they’re alone in the Observatory once more. The mask and cowl are removed and the Speaker draws a hand down over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving a long sigh, his other hand running through his long white hair. A nervous habit.

[“Vadim,”] his Ghost says, speaking his name in the quiet of the Observatory, with just the two of them, her tone hesitant. [“Are we doing the right thing?”]

Vadim gives a sigh, his hazel eyes flickering to his Ghost before they both turn to look out over the City. “I hope so, Maria. I hope so.”

#the speaker #ikora rey #destiny fanfiction #mine: writing #fanfic: destiny #c: vadim yousafzai #c: maria #this was brought to you by SALT #and written in like half an hour #vadim is my version of the speaker and i love him #the speaker is mine 1v1 me bungo #i've been fighting with the formatting for like half an hour i give up

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xperfectlite · 7 years

Text

PruCan Week 2017 - Day 4, Transforming

Forgive me for the late post, I’ve been under the weather today :/ Anyway, this one’s a little different. Features trans hcs, rated T i guess, and it’s under the cut!

Each day was the same routine: roll out of bed, stare at himself in the mirror with a critical eye, get dressed, then return to the mirror with an even more critical eye. Gilbert stood sideways, smoothing his hands over the flat expanse of his chest and abdomen. Did it look natural? It was so hard to tell when he was used to picking out imperfections every day.

After begrudgingly accepting his clothing choice, he fussed with his hair, making sure it was put together in an exact way. Meanwhile, he couldn't help but glare at the softness of his face, hating how cute he looked rather than chiseled and handsome. The silver haired man sighed as he straightened and gave himself one last examination. Like every day, he was annoyed and anxious about how obvious it felt.

He stepped out of his room and made his way down to the kitchen, where his brother sat. Ludwig nodded to him.

“Good morning, brother.” Gil couldn't stop the smile of appreciation at the nickname.

“Morning.” the blond gestured to the stove.

“I made some eggs and sausage, they might need reheated.” Gilbert shook his head, getting a cup of coffee and picking up the unread parts of the newspaper instead. “Any plans for today?” the older brother made a face and nodded.

“Yeah. Thanks to Elizaveta, I have a blind date in an hour.” Ludwig looked over and took notice of the time.

“Did you mean to sleep so late?”

“Gotta be well rested, man.” after finishing the coffee, he gave his brother an appreciative pat then prepared to head out for the day. As he got into his car, he rolled his shoulders, his body already feeling a little too constricted. He knew it was just due to his anxiety about the date, but that didn't relieve the pressure at all. Hopefully eating would make him feel better.

The silver haired man stepped into a small brunch restaurant and looked around for a blond man in a flannel. It was pretty easy since it was the middle of summer. He walked up to the table and the other man smiled and stood.

“Gilbert?” Gil smiled and nodded, sticking out his hand.

“The one and only. You must be Matthew?” they shook hands and the blond nodded, sitting back down and gesturing for the other to join him.

“That's me. Nice to meet you. You look great.” the albino beamed and nodded, gesturing to the other.

“Thanks, that means alot coming from someone so handsome as you.” Matthew blushed and smiled. Before he got a chance to speak, their server came up to them.

“Hey guys, how are we doing today? Can I get drinks started for- Oh my gosh, hey!” Gilbert's face fell, realizing the server was a former classmate of his who was always known for being a jerk. “Maria, how's it going? You're looking.. pretty decent.�� she said, scanning his chest. The silver haired man clenched his fists on his knees and smiled lightly.

“Actually, it's Gilbert. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” the server scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“Please, as if I could forget the only transgendered person I've ever met. I'm so sorry about the name, it's just an old habit, y’know?” she smiled at Matthew who gave a sheepish and awkward look in return before glancing away. Gilbert clenched his teeth and shook his head, standing up.

“I don't need anything. This was a mistake.” he hurried out of the restaurant and into his car, leaning his head against the steering wheel. How could he be so stupid? There was never any way he would be able to have a normal relationship. No normal person would ever be interested in him.

A knock on his window made him jump up. He looked out and saw Matthew smile shyly and wave. Gilbert sighed and rolled down the window, refusing to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Aren't you hungry?” he scoffed and looked at him.

“Not anymore, no.” Matt sighed and leaned against the car.

“Listen, Gilbert, I knew. Liz always talks about you, so when she started calling you Gil instead, it was kind of obvious.” the albino flushed in anger and glared at him.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” the blond shook his head.

“No, but I just wanted you to know that I was interested in meeting you despite that. I like people for who they are, not what they are.” he smiled and shrugged, pulling up his shirt to show the hint of a crescent scar under his chest. “Plus, it's hard to judge what someone is when you’re the same.” Gilbert looked up at the man, shocked. Someone who was like him? It was so hard to understand. For the longest time, Gil thought he was the only one in this town that was struggling like this. “How about the McDonald's down the road? I could go for a McGriddle.” Gilbert smiled softly and nodded.

“Yeah. I could go for one too.”

As they walked down to the fast food place together, Gil mused to himself. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about the situation, but he knew he wanted to see Matthew again. He seemed so well developed and.. truly handsome. Gilbert wanted, at the very least, to grow closer to him. Maybe this could be the start of something wonderful.

#prucan week 2017 #trans prussia #trans canada #trans hc #aph canada #aph prussia #matthew williams #gilbert beilschmidt #prucan #mine #writing

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archive-creamycomet · 7 years

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Sorry if this is annoying, but Tumblr didn't eat my ask? It was, I believe what you might do differently from your Magical Girl au if it were a straight Madoka AU.

٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ OH MAN PUT ON YOUR SEATBELTS KIDS, IT’S MADOKA MAGICA TIME.

So, the big question is of course who would be who. Which really seems obvious at first blush, but a lot of the different characters and their relationships with each other can be interpreted as a lot of the different Bokumachi characters. Specifically, Satoru can fit into a lot of roles. I’m going to start with the obvious and hopefully work the way down, showing how a lot of them could be SatoKayo, KenSato, SatoAiri and YashiSato depending on who you put where.

Satoru as Homura, Kayo as Madoka: This is probably the most obvious choice – and I’m happy to see that there’s even fanart of them filling this role! There’s a lot that works here; Satoru going back in time to keep Kayo safe, becoming more cold and jaded as a result of her death, becoming increasingly desperate. Being the only know who knows the truth and the danger they’re all in, but not being able to say anything. If we slot Yashiro into the Kyubey role this works surprisingly well.

My only problem with this is that past the time traveler mechanic, I don’t feel like this fits them all too well. Specifically, I think if you look at the role that Madoka played in the original timeline – and where they ended up at the end – I would propose an alternative.

Kayo as Homura, Satoru as Madoka: Okay just hear me out though. We have to keep in mind exactly how they met – and in that original timeline, it was Madoka who was the bright and outgoing confident one, and Homura was shy, isolated, and hoping to disappear. Here’s the scene where they first met, for reference. Their relationship literally began because Madoka saved Homura. And Homura was only able to become that strong, confident person because Madoka was there for her in the beginning. (Well, and Mami, who I guess would be Kenya in this situation – which makes some scenes weird.)

Plus, we have to consider the roles they play for each other at the end. Ultimately, Homura isn’t enough to stop Kyubey/Walpurgisnacht. It’s Madoka who has to sacrifice herself – to make “a world without me” – in order to accomplish that. She has to disappear, but in exchange, all of her friends are happy and safe. The antagonist – Kyubey/Yashiro – gets what they want (Satoru’s “death”/Madoka’s wish) – but it doesn’t give them the end result that they wanted.

Kenya as Homura, Satoru as Madoka: Frankly, you could make this argument for Satoru and Kenya as well, and it arguably works better. You can trade “Madoka saves Homura” for “Satoru inspires Kenya” pretty well. Frankly, this works best when you consider what happens after the series – Homura continuing to fight, wanting to protect the world that Madoka saw worth protecting. Hoping that they will see each other again, even though he knows it might not be possible. Hearing Satoru’s voice in his ear, whispering: “Good luck.”

We’re going to be coming back to MadoHomu later on, but for now I’m jumping to the other main ship – KyouSaya, and how that could also work for a bunch of relationships too.

Satoru as Sayaka, Kenya as Kyouko: Hey, they’re both S’s and K’s. I didn’t notice that until now. Anyway, I think there’s a lot of ways that this could work – and I feel like the ways that Kenya is similar to Kyouko might take some explaining.

First of all, Kyouko is someone who tried to help and failed, and this affects her a lot going forward. She decided to stop helping people, that doing so will always backfire on you and hurt you somehow. I think there are some parallels with Kenya here: he did everything right when he tried to help Kayo, and got nowhere with it, didn’t see any returns. So he let it be, trusting that things will work out the way they were supposed to – which, in the original timeline, led to Kayo’s death, and ultimately to Hiromi and Aya’s. Kyouko’s blind faith also led to that kind of end.

We don’t know how Kenya reacted to the murders in the original timeline, but I think you can draw some similarities to their stories. And I think this gets cranked up to eleven when you throw in Satoru/Sayaka.

Sayaka wanted to be a hero of justice. She wanted to help people, save them. And Kyouko – although at first found it naive – began to really believe in what Sayaka was saying, by the end. She saw in Sayaka what she had wanted to do. And that’s what Kenya saw in Satoru: he asked “Who are you?” because Satoru was doing what he wasn’t, what he thought he couldn’t. And Kyouko begins to open up to Sayaka and care for her.

But meanwhile, Sayaka is becoming increasingly desperate and spiraling out of control. Kenya was the one who saw Satoru go around throwing rocks into houses and considering hurting Kayo’s mother – which I think you can draw some parallels to the train scene in Madoka Magica. You can swap out Sayaka talking to those men about their girlfriends to Satoru talking to Kayo’s mother about Kayo. (Besides, if we assume that Kyousuke is Kayo – the hurt one, the one who was falling apart that Satoru/Sayaka was desperate to save – then I think we can slot Hiromi for Hitomi and see it continue to work really well.)

Ultimately though, Kyouko/Kenya aren’t enough to stop Satoru/Sayaka from sinking into that dark water. I think you can take a lot of the lines from the Oktavia fight and apply it to Kenya wanting Satoru to come out of his coma.

“Can you hear me? Do you recognize my voice?”

“You said you wanted to be a hero, remember? Please, come back!”

“I know you’re mad. You can’t forgive anyone for what happened to you, I get it. But once you get over that, come back to us – okay?”

Holy shit let’s not even get into their character song, “And I’m Home.” It’s one of my go-to KenSato songs. (This English cover of the song is really top-tier, too.)

Satoru as Sayaka, Airi as Kyouko: This really comes from the idea that the closer that Sayaka becoming a witch parallels Satoru becoming his jaded, original timeline self. Specifically, I encourage you to look at the scene where Sayaka transforms and some of the lines she says. Specifically:

“I saved quite a few people, but in exchange, hatred and jealousy filled my heart.” – I think this echoes back to what Satoru saying about Revival, about how he saves people but it always backfires on him. Plus, during the Elsa Maria fight, Sayaka notes about how “if I do it like this, you don’t hurt at all” which is an interesting tie-in to Satoru’s own apathy.

Kyouko and Airi have some similarities: like how nobody believed their fathers when they spoke, how that really affected them going forward. But Kyouko wants to believe in Sayaka, and is the one who fights to get through to her when she falls into her darkest. Just like Airi holds a hand out to Satoru when he’s deemed a murderer, trying to “snip-snip” through his cocoon.

Jumping back to MadoHomu now…

Satoru as Madoka, Yashiro as Homura: Rebellion was a gift and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. But basically, I think Rebellion can be very easily be compared to YashiSato.

Homura in Rebellion is living in a world without Madoka, and that causes her to fall further into despair and herself – becoming obsessed with seeing Madoka again. I think you can compare that very well to Yashiro waiting for Satoru to get out of his coma. And when she finally sees Madoka again – when Satoru finally wakes up, well.

This scene from Rebellion basically speaks for itself.

Yashiro admitting that he’s “waited so long for this,” and then grabbing hold and not letting go. Even tearing Satoru apart, if it means that he gets to keep a part for himself. This entire exchange is just, so Yashiro-like:

“It’s only natural that you don’t understand. Yes… no one in this world could possibly understand. This emotion is mine alone – it’s for Madoka alone!”

“I told you, Madoka. I’ll never let you go again.”

And later, when Kyubey is trying to confront Homura about what it is that has infected her – something darker that curses, something that Sayaka had guessed was “Insatiability? Desire?!” – Homura confirms what it was. Love.

All of this to say, if I made something that’s a straight Madoka AU… hm. I don’t know which of these combinations I would go with. Probably some combination of KyouSaya/SatoKen, Rebellion!MadoHomu/Yashisato? Though I really like MadoHomu/SatoKayo too, so… aaaargh I don’t know! So many options!

#madoka magica #bokumachi #erased #boku dake ga inai machi #kensato #yashisato #MY LOVES #ask #anonymous

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rafael-theonewhowanders-blog · 7 years

Text

the wanderer & the songbird

Parties: Liliana and Rafael

Location: Starts in Slave Cells and ends in Rafael’s Suite

Date: Jan 20th

Summary: Rafael breaks a dry spell and Liliana loses her virginity

Triggers/Other Notes: Nothing really. It is a pretty fluffy bit of deflowering

@liliana-cassily

Rafael had learned of his privileges as a Master at this school. It still struck him as rather ridiculous. A privilege for puffed up people too in love with their own sense of consequence. But, at the same time, the idea of sex without commitment seemed rather ideal. It was his first weekend at the school and he found himself strolling through the halls of the slaves sleeping quarters. He stopped outside the door of a fair-haired female. She appeared to be alone, slight and pretty. "Good evening." he greeted, his voice traced by an accent he had never lost despite 400 years of travel.

Lily 's roommates were either sleeping or away, rented or otherwise, and she had been left to her own devices on this quiet sleepless evening. She sat quietly, curled up in a corner of her bed with her fingers skimming the pages of an open book in her lap, lips moving with silent words to herself until a voice interrupted her thoughts. Fingers pausing and lips stilling, her head canted upwards to listen at the unfamiliar voice. "Are you speaking to me, sir?" It was rare any visitors came to see her aside from Simon and perhaps few acquaintances from time to time, and she couldn't be quite certain if this stranger was addressing. "I beg your pardon," She finally amended, offering an apologetic smile, "I meant to say good evening. Is there something I can help you with?"

Rafael nodded, "Yes. I was. What is a pretty young girl doing on her own tonight?" Rafael asked as he stepped further into the room. She was lovely. The lingerie requirement (which he still found absurd for an educational institution) suited her well. How long had it been since he had had sex. A year ... three .. he was losing the thread again. It appeared tonight he would get the chance to change that particular fact. "Yes. I am seeking a companion. For the night."

Lily gently closed her book and set it aside politely, scooting to the edge or her bed to better face him. "I was just reading, nothing terribly exciting. It's always so very loud down here that in those rare moments of quiet I like to try and read a little." It was only as the cool air, rustled by his movement, brushed the skin bared by her skimpy clothing that she remembered her attire for the time being and she shyly crossed her arms around herself. "If you need a companion I can certainly help, sir. If you'd like you're more than welcome to sit and chat." She offered gently, a soft smile perching on her lips as she pat the empty end of her bed.

Rafael chuckled at the invitation. It was rather charming and innocent. He lifted a hand, brushing a finger over her shoulder. "I don't think I want to stay here. Will you come with me pretty girl? Come out from your funny little cave and join me?"

Lily shivered a little as his light touch brushed her cool skin. He'd yet to give her his name she she wasn't exactly certain what he wanted with someone he'd just met, but the request seemed innocuous enough. "Of course…" She responded quietly, carefully pulling herself from her bed and moving to find her cane she'd left perched by the dresser. "Yes, of course, if you wish sir. There are probably far nicer places to speak than in here, certainly. Oh, um, I'm Lily, by the way. Liliana, but most people simply call me Lily. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr….?"

Rafael was startled when she selected the cane and for a moment he stared. But did it matter? No. It really didn't. So he shrugged away the thought. "Rafael Garcia. But please. I like it when people call me Sir. I shall call you Lily." He stepped toward the door, holding it open for the female. "Come along Lily. Let us get out of here." He escorted Lily past the guards and out into the cooler evening air. The moonlight made the silk of her skin glow and the little outfit covered very little of that skin. He placed one hand on the hollow of her back. "This way ... What do you study Lily?"

Lily made no mention of her handicap or the reason for the cane. The reason was usually obvious enough and speaking of it would only make the situation awkward. She'd found over the years that letting people realize and adjust on their own was usually far more smooth of a scenario. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rafa--Um, Sir. Is it safe to assume you've only recently arrived? Hopefully the island has offered you a warm welcome thus far, if so." She kept her voice soft and low, cautious of speaking too loud and being reprimanded by the guards whose breathing she could hear as they passed. As they walked outside her free arm wrapped all the more around herself, "I wish we were permitted to wear something more conservative out and about," She murmured, mostly to herself, as moonlight filtered through the thin ice blue fabric of her clothing and left very little to the imagination. "Music, Sir. I'm a singer and fairly competent pianist. I'm also studying vocal pedagogy. And what about you? Or are you a professor, perhaps?"

Rafael almost laughed at the idea of a warm welcome. "Well, I did arrive on a most timely beginning since they imposed a rather absurd dress code on all of you." Rafael shrugged. "It is silly but I will admit that you all make a pretty picture. Ah, a musician. Do you have a favorite? One whose pieces fill your soul?" As they walked he kept his hand on her back, guiding her toward his assigned room. It had a large bed and he intended to have Lily in it and those shapely legs wrapped around his waist before morning.

Lily blushed a faint shade of pink at his compliments on how she wore the current dress code and her head bowed demurely for a moment, "That's very kind of you to say, Sir, but I'm afraid that I have to agree it's quite on odd thing to have all of us wear. Detrimental at times to paying attention in classes and whatnot for some people, I would imagine. Thankfully not many have made any comments about myself in particular." She'd always had a knack for moving under the radar of the island's Masters and Professors, their interests more trained on the out-going and more..um, freewheeling types. Out of nervous habit her hand strayed upwards to fidget with the locket dangling below her school collar as she nodded, "Yes, a musician. I don't know what I would do without music in my life. As for favorites…oh my goodness, that's like asking me to pick a favorite star in the heavens. It changes from day to day, but two of my top ones have always been Ave Maria and Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. The first was my mother's favorite and the latter was my father's. Do you have any suggestions for artists I should try?"

Rafael enjoyed the flush in her cheeks. "Hmmm... yes ... I have found that. But after a bit, you get used to it, until someone in particular jumps out at you." It was clear he was currently speaking of her. He noticed her attentions to her small locket but he didn't call her out on it. "Ah yes. I think I met him once. He was quite funny. A very insightful man." People were like threads, he lost them after a while, but a few stood out. He didn't mention that he had pocketed a small heirloom a fan had given to him, although he was fairly confident that the singer had no idea of its value. "I always enjoyed Alexander Glazunov. That was one of the most moving performances I have ever seen."

Lily nodded thoughtfully until it dawned on her who the particular someone was that he might be referring to, the realization serving only to deepen the color of her fair skin as the color brushed down over her neck the small swells of her breasts. "Yes, I suppose that, um…that if someone catches your eye the dress code may have its virtues. Yes, I'm certain." She would not admit it out lot, but part of her wished desperately for her sight, only for a brief time, to see Simon in this state they were in. A wicked thought that she felt incredibly guilty for. "You got to meet Leonard Cohen? Holy crow, I'm quite envious! Although I would have been afraid for him to here me perform his work for fear of messing it up. Oh, Alexander Glazunov," Lily nodded again, "I've heard of him in passing but I don't believe I've studied his music. I'll certainly have to fix that, but…wait, you're not saying you've heard him play in person, are you? If I'm not mistaken he passed away in the 1930's and you don't sound old enough to have…but if…are you…never mind, it's very rude of me to pry."

Rafael slipped his hand up her back, resting now at the nape of her neck as he guided her toward the door to the building. "I am very certain of it, never more so than at this moment." Rafael replied calmly. "Oh yes. I've met a lot of people ... trouble is that I forget them. Terrible memory." He nodded again and then was annoyed realizing she could not see that. "Yes I did see him. Russia is a particular favorite." Largely because of their propensity to claim and hoard art, especially in the days of the Tsars. Less so in the more modern eras where austerity was favored. Rafael pushed open the door to his suite. "We are here. Please come in Lily."

Lily appreciated the guiding touch he gave her, but she wondered if he could feel the involuntary shiver that ran up her spine as his palm grazed upwards to her neck…and even more so if he'd intended for that to be her reaction. Reflexively she let her head tilt slightly, resting for a brief moment against the arm whose hand perch on the back of her neck before she recalled her manners and straightened back up. "You flatter me, Sir. Greatly. I'm not a creature people pause for." She returned with a soft shy laugh. "A short memory is not always a bad thing, not in my opinion. I'm afraid I can be a bit historical at times and remember too much. What's important is that you hold on to the meaningful memories and carry them with you. The rest…well, the rest is all just noise." Obediently Lily followed him inside. The hallways was blessedly quiet and she was thankful when they made it to his suite and she could be out of the public eye in her attire. Moving past him her brow shot up curiously. "You saw him in person? How incredibly fascinating! And to travel to Russia..goodness, I can only imagine how amazing that must have been. Are you a…forgive me if this is prying terribly, but are you a supernatural then? To have lived so long there must be something very special about you, Sir."

Rafael almost laughed at her words. She had to be kidding. "Then they are fools." he murmured as his thumb traced the side of her slim throat. "For you are very beautiful Lily. Perhaps you are just too accustomed to going unnoticed. Where it is safe ... but it did not keep you safe tonight, now did it?" His lips quirked into a smile at his tease and there was humor lacing his words. He closed the door behind her and took a deep breath as he confirmed the door was closed and locked to the treasure room. "I am not. I am just a human ... who cannot die. It is not a blessing. Would you like something to eat? To drink?"

Lily echoed his laugh with her own, the sound light and lilting, "Or perhaps they have better sense and taste. But than--" her words caught in her throat, neck arching of its own accord to the brush of his thumb along the column of her throat. It was as if her nerve endings were standing on end for a moment before she caught herself once more, "Thank you, I mean. You're incredibly kind to say such nice things to me, Sir. I suppose your'e right in a way. I've been raise to stay in the background where it's familiar and safe, and I suppose it's served me well enough, but it does become lonely after some time. But…I beg your pardon, are you saying I'm not safe, Sir?" Concern knitted her brows a fraction. Surely she was just being paranoid. "A human who cannot die? If I may nosy for a moment, may I ask how that works?" She moved further into the entry, hovering on the threshold as she was unsure where to move to, where she would be least in the way. "Oh, um, something to drink would be very nice, thank you. Please don't trouble yourself too much. Just water would be fine."

Rafael noticed her responsiveness. Yes this delightful female would be an excellent end to his dry spell. "I think those who cling to shadows only imagine there is safety there. Sometimes the light is better ... you should try .... sometime." He laughed at her follow up question. "I do not know how it works. It is a curse, not a blessing, but I have been killed many times and yet here I am. My heart still beats, my blood still flows, I have no abilities that would mark me as unusual. But I do not die." Rafael moved to the small kitchen and filled a glass with cool water from the tap. He never understood the trend of water in bottles. If these spoiled beings only knew the filth they used to drink and called good water. Now from taps poured better water. Miracles of modern age. He returned to the girl's side, placing a hand on her back and guiding her through until they were in the bedroom. He pressed the glass into her hand and urged her in. "Please have a seat."

Lily was uncertain of exactly what to do as Rafael still hadn't really explained what he wanted from her company. Conversation was flowing smoothly enough, but as she felt the edge of a bed behind her knees, not a couch she expected a sitting room or living room would have, she began to wonder. "Abilities or no, you're still quite special. So many people would give quite a bit to have an endless life; They search for elixirs of life and fountains of youth. While I'm sure it would be fascinating to live a life long enough to travel and see everything there is that the world has to offer, I'd never wish for eternity myself. It would grow achingly lonely I'd wager." She took a thoughtful sip from the glass, head cocking curiously as she continued, "Is there a way for you to break the curse, or do you know?" She prattled on out of nerves, uncertainty with how to act around a practical stranger. Thus she kept her glass carefully clutched in her hands like a security blanket. As if it would protect her to keep it cradled in her palms. "Thank you for the water, by the by. It's lovely. What they give us in the slave cafeteria is not…well, it's not always so pleasant as this."

Rafael shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over the edge of a chair before taking a seat next to Lily. "They are fools." he murmured softly, "It is not ... what is the expression ... I heard it and I liked it ... oh yes, all that it's cracked up to be." As he spoke he placed his hand on Lily's small back again, her skin very warm and very soft hidden under the very small outfit she was wearing. "You are most welcome. Another time perhaps we could dine together. I've only tried the pub and it was good. I also could prepare food. As soon as I sort out where the market is located." His hand moved slowly, tracing up her slim back.

Lily nodded in agreement. "I wouldn't wish eternity on anyone, I don't think. To watch the world change and move on and never be able to move on yourself. I think it would be terribly sad." For a moment she nibbled at her lip, thinking, before she took another sip of her water and offered him a soft apologetic smile. "Forgive me, I'm dwelling on the morbid." The glass rose to her lips for another drink, the water shaking a little in her grasp as her body shivered under his touch. "I, um…" She struggled for a moment to find her thoughts, "Um, yes, that would be lovely I think. The pub is wonderful and there are a few other places on the island that I'm sure are lovely. Perhaps I could help you cook? I'm actually quite good it, if I do say."

Rafael was amused by her chatter. Such a delicate little flower girl. But the shivers were speaking as well. "Yes .... it is." he was distracted by her warm skin. He slipped a hand over her shoulder now, tugging on the small strap so that it fell off her shoulder, "I would enjoy that. Cooking with you." He leaned in to press a kiss to the girl's shoulder. "What do you enjoy cooking Lily? Do you have a favorite?"

Lily was always a bit of a talker, even more so when she was even remotely nervous, and as her heart thrummed faster with the brush of warm gentle lips against her skin she found herself fighting for more to say. "I...I, um..." she swallowed hard and her neck instinctively curved with his touch. "I like to cook southern classics mostly? I w-was raise mostly in the south and, um, comfort food has always been my go-to." Her water was forgotten, the glass perched on her knee as she caught her senses and bowed her head shyly. Her blush had grown even lower, warming her skin all the more. "And what if you, Sir?"

Rafael's lips travelled, moving along her slim shoulder to her throat. "A Southern girl hmmm? American yes?" He reached stretched out a hand to take the glass and placed it on the bedside table. "It is on the table to your right Lily. I just didn't want it to spill when I did this." He cupped her small face and leaned in to kiss her. It was a leisurely kiss, soft, letting it build slowly.

Lily's mind was racing, working all over the place with conflicting thoughts. Part of her wanted to bolt but the other...oh, the other part was unwisely curious. "Y-yes, Sir. I was born in Georgia and lived there until I was twelve. But even in the other homes where I lived they were always in the southern states." Her hands empty she wasn't sure what to do with them now. One absently fretted with the hem of her too small outfit and the other began to raise again to her locket. The kiss, however, caught her off guard and her free hand moved uncertainly to his chest. For a moment it seemed as if she might push him away, a reflex, but slowly the limb softened and simply rested there, her head tilting to sceept his kiss hesitantly.

Rafael slipped one hand from her cheek to slid down her arm and take her small hand in his own. He lifted it up and place it over his shoulder so he could lean in a little closer. He broke the kiss slowly and tipped his head to kiss the slim column of her throat. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him.

Lily allowed her arm to be moved and of its own mind it wrapped carefully around his shoulder, delicate fingers moving to lace into the hair at the nape of his neck. Holding on to ground herself as she allowed her body to be pulled flush with his. As she allowed his kissed…and, much to her astonishment, kissed him back with innocent curiosity. When warm lips trailed lower, capturing that shockingly sensitive curve of neck, she felt her breath catch and her arch involuntarily. "I'm sorry--" It wasn't a reaction she was accustomed to and she was certain it wasn't normal. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't--" Shouldn't what? She couldn't seem to remember as she allowed her free hand to skate tentatively up and down his back.

Rafael broke off his attentions to her slim throat to murmur, "Shouldn't?" he questioned before catching her lips in another long kiss. His hand traced over the smooth skin of her thigh. "You are very lovely. I think by now my evening's intentions are very clear. If you wish to leave, say so now." he murmured against her lips, before sinking his mouth against hers again.

Lily made a soft sound of disappointment when his lips left her skin, "I shouldn't want this," She clarified very quietly, even as her arms tightened around him a fraction and she leaned up to steal a chaste kiss from him. Even more softly she added, "Please don't stop…" It was a plea, and once the words left her lips she scooted closer on her own, her fingers tightening at the back of his shirt.

Rafael chuckled softly at the plea. "Good girl." he praised softly before shifting slightly so he could more easily kiss down her soft shoulder. He let out a soft groan as she pressed closer to him. He slipped a hand under the thin fabric of her almost-outfit. He traced his fingers up her spine. He loved sex. Next to eating it was the only need that made him still feel real, still a man, still human after all these centuries. "Such a beautiful and good little girl." he crooned as he dusted soft kisses over the line of her clavicle.

Lily 's lips flicked up a fraction, a faint smile gracing her lips at his praise. It made her feel more confident in this situation for the time being and sent the strangest thrill through her veins. His kisses were intoxicating and she found her head swimming and wanting to give back him some way, help him feel the little pulses of electricity that his kissed drew from her, but she wasn't certain what she should do. What would be appropriate. "Thank you, Rafael," She breathed, her heart fluttering so rapidly against the cage of her ribs that she thought it make break free. With need of something to do, something to touch, her hands moved again, slowly exploring the lines of his back and then forward to his chest. Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt and paused there, almost as if asking permission before she undid the first in the row.

Rafael was a little disappointed when the pretty girl called him by his first name rather than the Sir he requested but he wasn't about to turn down the girl's small efforts. He glanced down at her waiting hands and kissed her again, "They aren't going to undo themselves Lily." He slipped his hand on her thigh a little higher, teasing the warm skin with knowing touches. With his teeth, he nipped at her other strap of her small outfit and tugged it down before kissing the tip of the breast bared by his efforts. "Are your breasts very sensitive Lily? Like the rest of you little musician? Let's see." he murmured as his lips latched onto her pert nipple and sucked on the bud.

Lily realized her mistake after the fact and could have kicked herself for forgetting his request, "Sir…" She murmured against his lips. "I apologize, Sir." Her lips brushed his cheek in a contrite kiss for her mistake, and she was certain her skin was flushed positively scarlet from his permission…and from that hand that seemed to be scooting ever higher along her thighs. Her legs came further together demurely, a reflex born of her raising. "I don't know if my--oh goodness." Her words caught in her throat, her back arching as her finger tightened into the loose edges of the shirt she'd unbuttoned. "Sir…" She mewled ever so softly, her head nodding belatedly to his question. "I, um…yes, ah--I think they are." The most certainly were. With his shirt unbuttoned her fingers now skimmed the warm skin of his chest unhindered, and her arms snaked to wrap around his shoulders again, pulling his lips closer to her skin. "What can I do to make you feel like this, too, Sir?"

Rafael didn't address her apology, moving onto other things. It amused him when her thighs came together. Soon he would be between them. Moving his hands away from her body momentarily, he shrugged off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. He then pushed down her small outfit entirely so that it was bunched around her slim waist and for a moment, he just stopped and admired her. "Dios. You are beautiful." he murmured, more to himself than the girl. He chuckled at the question. He collected one of her small hands in his own and guided it to his cock. "Here. Touch me here. If you are a very good girl, you will give it sweet kisses later." he teased lightly.

Lily was thankful that he didn't seem to be one to dwell, focused instead on other more pressing matters, but the speed with which all of this was progressing made her wonder if lingering here and there a bit more might be wise. But she was too captivated to quit, too curious by the rush of new sensations to stop now. Fair was fair, she supposed, and she made no protest as he slid down her clothing in the wake of removing his own shirt, and for a moment she sat there obediently, letting him look if he pleased. "I'm not…" She said, more to herself than to him, "But that's very kind of you to say. And you, I'm certain you're a vision, Sir." A gentle smile etched its way across her lips. Perhaps this wasn't something to feel guilty about, exploration. No…for now she was resolved to take this experience for what it was and as he moved her hand she willed herself not to move from the shock. Slowly, carefully, her hand wrapped around the shape in his trousers, warmer than the rest of the skin she'd touched as yet and growing firmer under her touch. "I promise that I can be a very good girl, Sir. I like to be good…to make people proud." Her words were soft and sweet as her hand moved a little, palm tracing his through the fabric. "May I…um…" Hesitantly her fingers hovered over the zipper of his pants.

Rafael laughed. "Nah. I am very ordinary but you may imagine whatever you wish. I don't mind." he teased softly. It was nice to tease and laugh again. "You are a very good girl." he groaned softly as she explored. "Yes Lily. You may." he permitted as he traced one hand up her body to card through the silk of her hair. "Such a good girl." there was a rasp to his voice now as she teased him with the proximity of her small hand. With his other hand, he cupped a soft breast, teasing the nipple with the edge of his thumb.

[missing piece]

Lily 's petite built served well in moving her easily and soon enough she found herself sinking into the mattress, his hips moving in conjunction with her wandering had as a sort of foreshadowing to what she was pretty certain was to come. The thought was daunting and for just the briefest flicker of a moment her hand slow, really assessing the situation at hand. "Yes!" She all but purred as she felt the heat of his mouth on her overly sensitive skin again, writing a little, unable to hold still under the sensation. "Yes Raf--Sir, I mean. Just like that, please." Each time his lips closed around a pert nipple a small mewl would creep from her throat and her hand on him seemed to speed up ever so slightly as an echo to those noises. She was afraid to make too much noise, to do something incorrectly, and so to quiet herself she took up one of his hands, kissing each of his digits in turn as a distraction for herself.

Rafael suckled the rigid little peak that had formed before moving to the other breast, teasing her nipple into a hard peak. He let out a soft groan at her attentions to his fingers, such a sweet little girl. This did not deter him slightly, in fact it only made him want to fuck her more. He hooked a finger over her panties and tugged them down her long slim legs in order to toss them to the floor. He leaned in once again but this time he paused, kissing the soft skin he had just bared before dipping lower to lick over her pussy lips.

Lily's back arched and, as a little test, her lips closed gently around one of his fingers. He'd said if she was very good she would gives kisses to the object in her other hand. Would it be like this? She wondered to herself as she let her lips slide down the length of his finger, imagining it to be something much different and causing a soft moan to tumble from her lips. She was distracted to the point that she barely noticed him removed the last skimpy articles of clothing until she felt his tongue, wet and warm, trace the length of her lips. "Oh god--" She gasped, practically coming off the bed as her body twitched with the feeling. Leaning up on her elbows and no longer able to reach his cock, she let her fingers curl into his hair. "That--I…." Words were lost and a soft whimper clawed from her throat, hips giving an instinctive little roll. "What are you…" It was indecent, it simply wasn't done, not in her world, and yet… "Please. Again."

Rafael chuckled at her rather little greedy response. "Of course." he teased, his breath tickling over the skin he had just made wet. He leaned in again, licking over her core and then circling his tongue over her clit before dipping lower again. Again and again, he payed homage to her little pussy, licking deeper and deeper until his tongue pressed against the entrance to her channel. "You taste very good ... yes I think I shall dine on this pussy again in the morning."

Lily had never felt anything like this before, like shots of electricity were firing through her veins and causing her to moan and writhe beneath his mouth. She should have been ashamed, she should have been embarrassed, but in the moment she couldn't bring herself to think about anything else other than the tight ball that was starting to form in the pit of her stomach. "Thank you, Sir. T-Thank you--" She panted softly as his tongue worked further into her and lifted a hand to cover her mouth, muffle the noise. "In the m-morning? I….oh god…W-will I be here in the morning, S-Sir?" Words were difficult. Words were annoying little things that distracted her from what she was feeling and pulled his touch away when he had to respond. "Am I staying the entire night?"

Rafael pulled back slightly, teasing a finger along her folds and over her clit as he responded. "Well afterwards I don't see much reason to walk you across campus. The bed here is comfortable and I may wish to wake you up in the night to have my way with you again.... then again in the morning. If I am going to spend time like this, I prefer to be quite thorough. Do you object?" he inquired before dipping his head and sucking hard on that bundles of nerves.

Lily nodded distractedly, "I..I suppose that makes sense, of course. And certainly if it makes you happy, Sir, I'll stay." Something about what he said, the way he said it, almost seemed to imply that she was just there to be used. That she was an object. In the grander scheme of the island she knew that was the general purpose of the slaves, but she'd thought…she'd hoped…that it wouldn't be like that for her. Her concerns were fleeting, though, and she chalked it up to nervous paranoia spurred on by all of the new and overwhelming sensations claiming her. "No objections, no Sir." She was getting so incredibly wet for him, her body quite obviously responding favorably to his attentions, and she felt something starting to built more and more quickly in her. LIke the tightening of a thread just before it was pulled too far and snapped. "Sir…" She panted, whimpering.

Rafael smiled. "Good girl." he praised gently. He wrapped his hands around her slim hips and pulled her close. "Let go Lily. I have you." he murmured, setting to his task again as he proceeded to enjoy himself with the small girl's most delicate core. "Come for me. Just let go...."

Lily's legs fell further apart for him, inhibitions currently forgotten as that tight feeling built higher, higher, until finally she snapped with his words. "Oh my--Sir!" She came on a gasp, body arching almost as if to try and get away from so much overwhelming sensation firing off in her at one time. It was almost more than she could bear. Small fists clenched into the bedsheets as her hips rolled against his mouth.

Rafael felt the orgasm roll through her, keeping her as still as he could with the hold of his hands on her small hips. She was so tiny. He nudged kisses northward, brushing his lips over the flat belly to the rising curve of her breasts until he was laid out just above her. His hard cock pressed against her. Shifting slightly, he wrapped his hand around his own length so that he could direct it toward the small woman's core. He caught her lips in a soft kiss.

Lily felt as if every single solitary nerve ending she possessed was sparking off, one after the other and without reprieve to let her catch her breath. It was overwhelming and difficult for her to process, but she didn't particularly want it to end. But all things must stop eventually and slowly she felt the orgasm ebb, leaving her skin tingling and sensitive to even the most light of touches: The brush of his lips, the friction of skin against hot skin, and even more than anything else was the pressure of him against the apex of her thighs. Through the embrace of his lips she made a soft sound, a mixture of a sound that was very much wanting in nature twisted with a whimper of uncertainty. "I'm--" scared, worried, intrigued, endlessly curious, "What do I need to do, Sir?"

Rafael smiled at the girl's sweet question. She was definitely a virgin. This did not deter him slightly. In fact, it pleased him. He kissed her again. "Just hold on little Lily ... I have you. It may hurt a tiny bit at first but I promise it will feel very good, very soon." he crooned as he dusted soft kisses over her lips. He shifted his hips and pressed forward, penetrating the small female in a slow and steady movement. He watched her face as he took her, savoring the feeling of her tight heat wrapped around his cock.

Lily nodded, the smallest of movements, before resting her hands on his shoulders to quite literally hold on as he'd said to. She sought solace for her frayed nerves in his kiss and tried not to think about what he'd said, that there may be pain. But that fact couldn't be ignored so easily as she felt him easing into her, stretching her more than she thought her body was capable of and a faint little yelp escaped her lips as her fingers tightened on his shoulders. It was more the shock than the sensation itself. The pain was sharp but quick and she pulled her lips from his to muffle her noises into the fabric of the pillow. "Sir," She breathed, trying to find her words, "Just...a moment. Please." Her head rose again as she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, her grip on him relaxing slightly. "Just one moment before you move again, please." She needed a moment, just a brief one, to wrap her head around what was happening and adjust to the new feeling.

Rafael held himself still at the girl's request. He ran one soothing hand over her soft fair hair. "You are doing so well Lily. Such a good girl. I am all the way in now. Just breathe, I promise the worst is over." he murmured in the shell of the girl's ear, "Thank you for being so good. You feel so good to me. Your body all around me, warm and wet and so soft." Rafael continued to praise the small female, delighting in the feel of her around him, but also knowing his restraint, after over a year of celibacy was not going to be unlimited.

Lily murmured a breathy "Thank you" as she took a moment to slow her breathing, using her grasp on his shoulders to try and slow her draws of breath to his own. Centering herself in the moment. As soon as she began to relax any lingering pain waned and all the was left was a deep, somewhat uncomfortable, pressure and the beginnings of the same tingling she'd had before with his mouth on her. "Thank you, Sir," She whispered again, pulling back to give him a small smile brought on by his reassurances. "You can, um..." Her hips shifted a little against his, drawing a soft moan from her lips. "You can keep going," she finished, finding his throats again with her lips, brushing sweet kisses along its length.

Rafael let out a groan of relief and then a moan of pleasure as her mouth moved on his skin. He began to move, slowly at first but then gradually increasing in speed. "I have you beautiful girl. You are being so good for me." he murmured again and again, as his lips traced over hers and then along her jaw. He slipped one hand between their bodies to toy with her clit again. "Touch yourself. Right here." he instructed.

Lily winced a little as he started to move, adjusting still to the foreign feeling, but slowly she eased. Slowly her hips started to move with his. His praise pulled a soft moan from her throat, or was it the pace change? Both in tandem would be her undoing, she was certain, and her head fell back to allow his kisses further access to the slender column of her throat. "I want to be very very good for you, Sir." She echoed, her leg lightly hooking around his waist and silently urging him faster. The quicker they moved together, the fast that sweet tightening feeling in the pit of her stomach started to coil. Following his instructions, her hand disappeared between their writhing bodies and delicately she made small circles around her clit, the added feeling drawing a sharp intake of breath from the small girl and making her clench around his cock in response. "Oh my god, Sir, yes. Just, ah--" She arched a little, as if trying to make as much of her skin press flush against his as possible, "Just like that. That feels…" But adjectives were not in her arsenal at the moment, not ones appropriate for how he was making her feel. Instead she leaned up and, without thinking about it, bit down very lightly on the curve where neck arched into shoulder.

Rafael wondered how long had it been since he had been with a virgin. Too long because he had forgotten how delicious it was to peel away that first bloom. She was so tight around him that he had to concentrate to maintain his control and not move too quickly into the young girl's tight pussy. She followed his instructions beautifully, teasing her own body as he rode her. He dipped his head to nip at her clavicle and then the curve of her full breast. The nip had him jump and then chuckle softly. "Good little girl." he murmured at her responsive behavior. "When you feel it build, let go for me, yes? I will follow you over next time Lily." he instructed before pressing his own kiss to her slender throat followed by a gentle nip.

Lily felt every movement he made, no matter how small, resonate through her body like an electric current and as the feelings became more and more intense she found her embarrassment falling away and her sounds grew louder and more urgent in response. Tiny moans and stifled whimpers morphed into open gasps as her fingers more fervently worked over her clit, already made overly sensitive by her previous orgasm. "Did I…did I do something wrong?" Lily queried, breathless as another cry tumbled from her lips as teeth found gentle purchase in her soft skin. He'd jumped when she'd bitten him. She hand't meant to do it, and if she'd hurt him it simply would not do. "Yes." She acknowledged his instructions with a tight little nod, trying to hold back the building tension as best she could, not wanting that sweet simmering moment of flaring heat to crest just yet. "Yes sir, I will." Lily's kisses ventured to his shoulder again as her free hand trailed down his side and then between them. As her fingers found his nipple and she let her thumb brush across it she wondered if it felt as good to him as it had to her.

Rafael chuckled and nipped at her again. "No my good little girl.... nothing wrong at all." he murmured, his accent soft and his voice low and husky. He liked her brave little kisses. She was a sweet shy thing. He groaned as her small hand brushed over his chest and teased his nipple. "Exploring, little flower?" he purred softly.

Lily enjoyed the way is groaned, low and rumbling and entirely satisfying. Again her thumb brushed across his nipple, hoping for that sound again. His voice sent twinges tingling low in her stomach, deepening that delicious pressure we was stirring between her legs. "Yes, Sir. Is this alright?" Lily asked softly before leaning down enough to run her tongue lightly across the trail her thumb had left. There was that tightening again, pressing and urgent at her core, and with a strained whimper she pulled her fingers away from herself, holding on to his shoulders instead. She was struggling desperately to hold off her orgasm.

Rafael groaned at the soft words, "Yes little flower. You are doing very well. Such a good girl." he purred. He dusted a soft hand over her silky hair. He dipped his head forward and kissed her deeply. He began to pick up speed, riding her harder and harder, pushing her down into the mattress as he fucked her. He slid one hand down her hip and tugged her thigh up. "Put your legs around me Lily."

Lily reveled in the noises she was able to draw from him and let the tip of her tongue trace that bud again, circling it softly until he capture her lips again in a simmering kiss. Arms wrapped bracingly around his shoulders and her legs obediently followed suit, tucking around his hips and drawing her hips up to met his thrusts. The change of angle was enough to do her in, his length brushing against every single right nerve of her slick walls, and her fingers knotted into the hair at the nape of his neck, lips sinking into his desperately as she hovered on the edge. "Sir--" She let out a frustrated little noise, mixing with more and more frequently moans, trying with all her might to hold back her peak. She wanted him to fall with her, but the building of sensation was too much. With a sharp cry her head fell back, her body tensing like a violin string, and she clenched around him so very tightly as she came even harder than the last time.

Rafael enjoyed what a squeaky noisy little thing she was. He enjoyed pushing her over the edge, watching her tumble was a delight but as her pussy tightened around him, he couldn't stop himself any longer. With a loud shout, he tumbled right after her. His face contorted as he shouted out his pleasure in a language that no other living person spoke. His head fell forward to her small shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. When he finally recovered enough to come to his sense, he carefully pulled out of the petite woman's soft body and rolled to the side. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. "How are you feeling hmm little flower?”

Lily couldn't think straight, the noises falling from her lips an unintelligible cocktail of broken words and deep resonating moans and gasps as she came with him. For several long minutes she lost the ability to speak completely and simply shook in the aftermath of her orgasm, lips pressing soft kisses into Rafael's hair until he moved, taking her with him. The feeling of him leaving her body drew a faint wince from the small woman, her muscles a little sore from use, and it was with carefully slow movements that she curled against his side. Her head came to rest in a mussed mass of blonde hair against his chest, using the slowing sound of his heartbeat to match her breathing to and slowly calm down. "Achy," She answered with a faint giggle as another small twinge swept through, "But good. Very good, Sir. All warm…and tingly." Her arms wrapped around his waist and the closer she curled and the more she came down from her high she felt herself grow very tired. "Are you, um….did you, um…was it alright, Sir?"

Rafael smiled, "Yes. I'm afraid you will be a bit tender for a few days but it should be more than that." He brushed a hand over her fair hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You were wonderful Lily. Thank you so much. Being with you ... it was perfect. Now shhh... get some rest." He continued to pet her soft hair, softly singing an old lullaby in a language no living person spoke, but the tone was soft and the words, although unintelligible to anyone but him, were comforting.

Lily's lips quirked upwards into a tired smile at his complimentary words. To know she had done something right, to know she had made someone feel good, and happy, and fulfilled…it was what she strived for. Wasn't it? Something still itched at the back of her mind, though; An uncertainty and faint sense of guilt whispered in her head, an odd empty sensation that echoed to her feelings earlier when he'd almost made her sound like a thing, not a person. But surely he didn't mean that then and there was no sense in lingering on it now. "I'm glad that I was able to make you feel good, Sir." Lily offered softly, curling her body closer to the heat of his side and letting her mind ease as she listened to his singing. "What language is that, if I may ask?" The girl's voice was quiet, a faint murmur as she started to nod off.

Rafael smiled a little bitterly at the question but of course Lily would never know. "A dead one little flower." His reply was a mere whisper as he trailed one hand up and down her slim back before finally settling on the nape of her neck.

#lily #chatzy para

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